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#park jimin x y/n
btsugarush · 3 months
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I’d Hate To Say it | pjm (m.list)
❝i needed you and you fuckin’ left me.❞
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summary: when you return home from studying abroad, you come to find your former best friend, jimin, has made drastic changes to his life that could put him in danger or behind bars forever.
pairings: drug dealer!jimin x f!reader.
warnings: smut, violence, fluff, blood and gore, ex best friend!jimin, gang member!jimin, tattooed/pierced!jimin, long hair!jimin, use of guns/knives, mentions of self harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drugs, drug addiction, angst, murder, strong language, 18+, minors dni.
author’s note: yes, yes another one. obviously i had to write something with my love jimin. also if you can’t tell i have an obsession for tattoos and piercings.
©btsugarush. please do not repost.
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jkbabiey · 1 year
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Rock Bottom | PJM
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⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader
⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, angst, fluff, smut, establishedrelationship!AU, marriage! AU
⇢ Synopsis: When, in a four-year marriage, you get to the point where you question its worth, you know that’s your rock bottom. How many I’m sorry’s will you handle? How many times are too many times?
⇢ Song Rec: Rock Bottom by Hailee Steinfeld, Teach Me by Kyle Dion, Sorry by Heize, Home by Ailee and Yoon Mirae, Tide by Woodz, Pride and Prejudice by ZICO and Suran, Want You Back by 5SOS
⇢ Word Count: ~4.7K
⇢ Warnings: brat OC, anger issues in here, this is honestly a sad angsty au, workaholic Jimin, frustrated OC and frustrated Jimin, unprotected sex, Jimin doesn't care about sleep, OC may be lacking some self-respect but Jimin will fix that for her
⇢ Authors note: After a long time without writing, I'm back. I loved writing this. It was supposed to be a Jungkook one-shot like always, but then I realized that it fits Jimin's vibe so much better. So I decided to change it up :)) Really like how it turned out tho. Enjoy <3
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You loved Jimin with all your heart.
You loved him more than you had ever loved anyone else. Five years into your marriage and he still erupted the most euphoric butterflies in your stomach. A thousand of them. Everything from his voice, to the way he snored softly when he slept, to the way he looked at you... You loved him.
Your life with Jimin felt like a fairytale. Always had. You married in a botanic garden after 4 years of secret dating, with all his and your family and friends by your side. You bought a house together right after, figuring the one you had been living in until then wasn't big enough for a future family, and have been living in it together for four years now.
Tonight was the fourth anniversary of your marriage. Four years since Jimin officially became yours and you became his.
So you had asked your boss to leave work earlier today and rushed home, at 5 PM, to prepare Jimin's favorite dish. You also bought vanilla-scented candles and an extra pretty table towel on the way home. You texted Jimin a quick 'can u be home by 9?' and got a 'yup, I'll be there' back. You were sure Jimin didn't remember what today meant - but you didn't blame him and didn't even have the strength to get mad at him. He was a busy man and you knew his work required his full attention. Most of the time, you stood in second place in his priorities. And, surprisingly, after four years of dating him and another four of being married to him, you had gotten used to that.
You took a shower after the food was ready and the table set, at 7:55 PM, and put on the prettiest, sexiest lacy black lingerie you owned - the one you knew Jimin loved. You squeezed into the tightest black dress you saw after searching your walk-in closet, and the prettiest high heels. You let your hair natural and loose like you knew Jimin liked and did your make-up - red lips and a pointed eyeliner. You looked amazing.
All for Jimin.
At 9 PM you headed downstairs and sat down patiently at the dinner table, after lighting the candles. At 9:30 PM you texted Jimin a 'u coming?' and at 10 PM you still had no answer. At 11 PM, you looked out the window, searching for his black shiny car and at midnight you were blowing out the candles that were almost completely melted at this point. You headed upstairs, finally losing all hope that Jimin would still show up to have an anniversary dinner with you, his wife, because, after all, it wasn't your birthday anymore. You hadn't seen your husband at all throughout the whole day, since he had chosen to sleep in the dorms the prior night - always the busy man.
At 2 AM Jimin wasn't home yet and you weren't asleep, because you had started to worry. What if something had happened? Jimin would call if he noticed he wouldn't be able to make it home at 9, right? So at 2:20 AM, when Jimin got to his car to head home and turned on his phone, after turning it off to focus on his work, he noticed the 14 missed calls and 9 worried text messages. All from you.
At 2:35 AM you heard the bedroom door open and you sighted in relief watching Jimin coming through it, from your seating position in your bed, under the covers. You didn't say a word, noticing Jimin's late realization of the compromise he had missed - if you hadn't left the table set in the dining room, you're pretty sure he probably wouldn't be aware of it yet. You laid down, ripping your disappointed gaze from his, with your back against him.
"Baby..." you heard him mutter and closed your eyes "I'm sorry I forgot, I didn't know you had prepared dinner for us-"
"Don't talk Jimin," you interrupted, knowing there was no way that Jimin would be able to make you feel better or make himself feel better right that moment. Hot-headed Y/N wasn't cool to talk to. "Let me sleep."
Jimin didn't say a thing. You heard the ruffling of his clothes being thrown to the armchair inside your walk-in closet. His steps towards the bathroom sounded heavy and slow - tired.
You knew Jimin was tired. He had been having full days of practice, producing and recording, for the new album. You did understand how he could forget the dinner, but the fact that he did forget just reminded you how you'd never be at the top of his mind, like he was at the top of yours, all the time. And, no matter how you tried to push it to the side, it still hurt.
Jimin, on the other side of the door that separated you guys' bathroom and bedroom, couldn't feel worse for leaving you waiting after seeing the pretty dress you had worn for him thrown across the bathroom bench and your heels neatly placed on the tiled floor, next to the door. When he got back inside the bedroom, he heard the quiet sobs you were trying to hide from him, your shaking back facing his side of the bed, and your shiny hair laid out on the bed, on top of his pillow.
Jimin felt bad, but he couldn't understand why you'd be so upset over a missed dinner. He knew you had gotten dressed up and had cooked for him - but you could have dinner tomorrow or eat the food you had prepared and that he knew was delicious by lunch.
Your anniversary was the furthest thing from his mind.
"Y/N, can we talk?". When you didn't answer, he placed a gentle hand on your exposed shoulder, turning your body towards him. "I know you're not asleep, baby."
"Leave me alone," you cried, turning around abruptly to get rid of Jimin's hand, which was now rubbing your arm. Jimin's heart clenched when your eyes finally rested on his and he saw the pain behind your teary gaze.
"I'm sorry," Jimin whispered, not bothering your aggressiveness and still resting his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. "We can have lunch tomorrow, or you can put on your dress and heels and I'll take you to an expensive restaurant," he laughed lightly watching you roll your eyes at him.
"I wanted to have dinner tonight, Jimin," you whined, trying to wipe your tears away. Jimin laid down next to you, evolving your waist in his strong arms and pulling your body closer to his, now face-to-face. He kissed the tip of your nose and your tear-stained cheeks, smiling at how adorable you looked to him with pouted lips and wet lashes.
"Why's that? Tomorrow the weather is gonna be better than tonight, tonight is cold. I can take you out tomorrow and you won't be cold in that dress," he joked while your lips parted in realization. He still hadn't remembered what today had been.
You knew Jimin had forgotten what day today was. But you thought that seeing the dinner laid out on the dinner table had reminded him that tonight was your fourth anniversary. He couldn't really think you'd prepare such a fancy dinner just for fun, right? "Are you kidding me?" you asked, your gaze regaining the anger it had lost shortly. The panic was back in your husband's eyes and he didn't know what was wrong now. "Do you even know what today is?"
"Wha-"
"Jimin, today was the 6th of April. Do you know what that means?" you asked and when Jimin's eyes wandered around the space behind you, looking for an answer, you grabbed his arm and lifted it off your waist, getting up from your bed.
Not only had Jimin forgotten your birthday, but he was also completely unaware of what the 6th of April was supposed to mean like it wasn't the day he had gotten married to you - what did that say about him? what did it say about what you meant to him? and above all that, what did it say about your relationship?
"Y/N, calm down. I'm sorry. I don-don't... I can't remember," he said, his tone getting smaller and smaller. He rubbed his temples, trying his best so that something would come to his mind. Nothing.
"Oh my god, Jimin," you laughed ironically, covering your face with both your hands, as tears started forming in your eyes once again. "You really don't know what happened on the 6th of April?"
Jimin didn't answer, looking at you with confused eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" you chortled, almost sounding mean to Jimin. "This is what always happens! You're always too busy. Too busy with work. Too busy to take care of yourself! Too busy to take care of me! Too busy to even think of me-"
"That's not true, I'm always thinking of you-"
"Oh! Is that why you missed our fucking fourth birthday dinner tonight?" you screamed, interrupting him and watching his eyes get wide and his lips part. "You are way too busy, Jimin. You don't have time for anything other than work," you whispered as he stood up from bed to stand closer to you.
"I'm s-so sorry," he whispered. "I totally forgot..."
"I know, that's the problem, Jimin! You are the love of my life and you are my priority, always."
"Y/N, please-"
"Let me talk." you raised your hand to stop him and he did just that, pressing his lips together in a straight line and resting both his hands on his hips. "What I'm saying is, I'm never gonna be your priority-"
"Y/N, you are my priority!" he couldn't help but burst that out, running a frustrated hand through his messy dark blonde hair. He sighed, looking at you as your disappointed eyes bored into his tired ones. "I work a lot. I'm rarely home. There are days we don't even see each other. But I work so that I can support a future with you. A future with kids. A future where I can keep buying your fancy dresses and taking you to expensive restaurants-"
"You could buy me the fanciest dress in the world and it wouldn't matter a thing if you still showed up at home at three in the fucking morning." you interrupted, your voice sounding even angrier than it was before. "Jimin, I couldn't care less about that shit. I didn't marry you for your money. I don't care about fancy dresses or expensive restaurants. I lived without those things before meeting you, and I can live without them now!" you exclaimed and Jimin lowered his head, looking at the floor. "I married you because I love you. You! Not your money!"
"I know that-"
"It doesn't seem like you do. When was the last time we had a meal together? When was the last time you took me out on a date? And I'm not asking you to take me to a fucking expensive restaurant, I'm asking for a stroll in the park! Or maybe a picnic! I'm just asking for you to take me to go eat fucking ice cream or some shit!" you paused, taking a deep breath as Jimin sat back in your shared bed, looking down and fidgeting with his fingers. "When was the last time you touched me? We don't even have sex anymore, for God's sake!" Jimin poked the inside of his cheek at that and let out an entertained chuckle. "Really? Is that funny to you?" You asked, angry as ever, and Jimin looked up at you.
"Can you stop yelling?" he asked with the calmest voice you'd ever heard coming from him as he stood up once again to stand right in front of you, with his face inches away from yours. "Y/N, if what you wanted was sex, you could've just said that." he spat out, anger and annoyance filling his voice tone.
Instinct spoke louder than you as you raised a hand as if about to slap him, but Jimin was faster than you, grabbing your forearm to prevent you from doing something you surely would regret later. "Don't go there," he said sternly, with a grave deep voice.
You looked at him angrier than he had ever seen you, with a clenched jaw and fisted hands. You shook your arm, letting Jimin's hand fall, and ran your fingers through your wild hair. "Fuck you," you whispered before walking out of the bedroom. You walked towards the kitchen. Not even five minutes after you left the room, heavy footsteps could be heard throughout the walls. Until you felt his presence by the kitchen door even though you had your back to him.
“Do you think I stay at work this late because I want to? Don’t you think I’d much rather be home having dinner with you by 9?” he asked, his tone angry but still calm and collected. “It’s my work! I have no choice whether I want to do it or not-“
“Jimin, leaving work earlier one day wouldn’t be the end of your career, I’m telling you,” you mocked sarcastically and could feel Jimin rolling his eyes, even without facing him.
“I’m sorry I missed dinner, but it’s not like I was out partying with the boys. I was working. I’ve been working since 7 AM. I was supposed to go sleep in the dorms so I wouldn't have to wake up even earlier tomorrow, but I still came home, because you asked me to. The last thing I need is for you to spend the night mad at me” he sighed when you finally turned around, to show him that his speech hadn't had that much of an effect. You were still mad. Very mad.
“You came home because ‘I asked you',” you mimicked, “not because you wanted to see me after not seeing me for two whole days?”
“Oh my fucking god” Jimin growled and looked up at the ceiling before running both his hands through his hair.
“And so what? You’re tired! But am I supposed to just shut up and don't be mad when you forget our marriage's fourth anniversary? I'm sorry for expressing my feelings-"
"Can't we just have dinner tomorrow?" he interrupted. The annoyance back to his voice.
"Jimin, go to sleep." You finished, leaning against the balcony behind you and looking down at the floor.
"No! What the fuck do you want me to do now? I already said I'm sorry! What do you fucking want now?!" it was his turn to yell now. The anger of expecting to come home to a warm bed and coming home to an angry wife was finally getting to him. "I come home absolutely exhausted and you still manage to keep me up and yelling, like I had the easiest day of my life! Stop being so selfish, for fuck's sake!"
You looked up at that and felt your eyes tearing up once again. You stood up straight and walked past him, towards the bedroom. You grabbed your pillow and a warm blanket. "What are you doing, Y/N? Jimin asked, and you wouldn't deny the tiredness was already showing in his voice. "Go to sleep, I'll stay on the couch."
"Stop, Y/N, please," he muttered and you turned to face him.
"Jimin, I don't want you to do anything. I get it, you were working and you're sorry. I know you're sorry. But my point is, how many times are you gonna keep saying sorry? Because I don't know for how much longer I'll be okay with being left behind for your career."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I don't know whether I can stay in this marriage if I keep being forgotten like this," you shrugged with teary eyes and watched Jimin tilting his head to the side while the anger in his eyes subsided. His eyes quickly got teary and he held up his hand to grab at your right arm, trying to prevent you from leaving the bedroom you two shared.
You shook your arm from his grip and turned your back on him, walking out of the bedroom and closing the door behind you.
And no, it wasn't okay with you to go to sleep angry at him. You weren't that type of couple. You worked things out before going to bed. But you knew how tired he was. He was supposed to wake up at 5:30 AM the morning after and you were supposed to wake up just an hour after him. You knew that if you kept fighting, neither of you would get any sleep. You and Jimin were two people with strong personalities and whenever you two fought over something it did not end up quickly. Besides that, you two had never fought like this. Had never had an argument that caused either of you to question the worth of your marriage. This was your rock bottom.
But you hated that you weren't sleeping in your bed, in your husband's arms. And it was impossible to fall asleep, no matter how careful you and Jimin had been to choose the most comfortable couch in the store when you bought your house. No matter the position or how many times you turned - you couldn't fall asleep.
It was 4 AM when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
You felt Jimin coming closer to your frame on the couch and kneeling down next to it. "You're sleeping?" he whispered and you mumbled a tiny 'no'.
"Can I sleep in here?" he asked and you made space on the couch for him to slip under the blanket with you, which he did quickly. He enveloped your waist in his strong arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck as if nothing had just happened. "Please, don't leave me," he whispered against the skin of your neck. You stayed quiet, just taking your hands to envelope his neck and pull him closer. "I don't think I can make it without you. I've been awake the past hour trying to find a way to stay less time at work and more time with you, but I can't find one. I don't think there's any way to solve this."
It was completely dark in the living room, and that just made this feel much more intimate than it was supposed to. "But I love you," he whispered again. "I love you too," you answered and felt a light kiss on your neck.
"I'm sorry for not being able to give you the life you deserve. I promise you that one day all this activity in my career will calm down and I'll be able to give you everything you deserve, but for now I can't fix anything we're going through. But we can fight for this, okay? We can keep up with my schedule and with yours. We can keep coming home to a warm bed. We can keep building a future for us both and for our future family. We can keep fighting every time there's something wrong, without really getting to solve anything. If you're up for it, I'll gladly stay up until 4 AM, if it means we can be alright in the end. But please, don't leave me. I love you. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. And you're not behind my career. You're always at the top of my mind, but work is work. And when I'm working with the boys I can't just bail on them and let them work alone. I really hope you understand that."
And by now, you were already washed in tears. Jimin could feel your wet tears on his neck. "I'm sorry, baby," you cried and Jimin lifted his face from your neck, to look you in the eyes. Even with the almost absolute darkness of the room, he could still figure out your beautiful features.
"You have nothing to be sorry about. I understand why you'd be mad at me-"
"No, I'm sorry, I should have been more understanding, or at least wait until you were well-rested. I'm sorry for making you fight with me for like half an hour. And I'm sorry for trying to slap you, I don't know what that was..."
"I love you. I don't care how bad we fight, I still love you. I always will," he whispered as his face got closer to yours. You could feel his light breath on your lips. "And I was being a jerk when that happened so you're fine."
"I love you too," you answered as you let out a soft giggle, to which Jimin smiled. You raised your head from the pillow, to softly press your lips against Jimin's to seal your reconciliation. His pillowy lips moved softly against yours, as he put one hand on the back of your head, to deepen the kiss. You heard him moaning against your lips as his other hands moved from your waist to your ass. "You should get some rest babe," you said, pulling away from him.
"No, let me make you feel good," he whimpered as his lips were redirected at your neck, sucking your skin and leaving love bites on his way, as his hands moved towards the hem of his your t-shirt, taking it off in a heartbeat and throwing it to the floor, next to the sofa.
You moaned as he pressed his thigh to the middle of your legs, urging him to go faster. His t-shirt and sweatpants quickly joined your oversized t-shirt on the floor, and soon he was panting against you as you raised your hips to create some friction between your crotches.
Jimin reached down, palming your still-covered pussy, with his whole palm. "How are you so wet?" he asked as you moaned and slightly trusted your hips up against his hand. "How are you so hard?" you asked back, teasing him as his hard length pressed against your thigh. You heard Jimin chuckle and felt him pushing your panties to the side, and running two of his fingers through your slit.
"You have such a smart mouth don't you?" he asked ironically, shoving his, now, soaked fingers inside your mouth. Your lips, quickly wrapped around his long fingers, sucking on them. He reached down with his other hand, to plunge two fingers inside your pussy. You moaned against his hand, which he quickly retracted from your mouth, just to press his lips against yours once again. He started fingering you, making scissor motions inside of you to try and prepare you for him. "How are you always so tight?" he groaned after you pulled away from the kiss to let out a series of moans from how good his fingers felt inside of you.
"After you not fucking me for so long, I'd be surprised if I wasn't," you teased once again, chuckling and Jimin rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"You're so annoying, baby," he answered, starting to finger you faster as you threw your head back on the couch, giving him enough space to suck the skin of your neck as if he hadn't marked you enough earlier. "Do you think you're ready for me?"
"Yes, baby, please. I want you inside me, please," you mewled and Jimin moaned hearing your cries of pleasure so close to his ear, after so long.
And in a second he roughly shoved his entire length inside of you, as you both let out loud groans of pleasure. Having Jimin inside you never failed to blow your mind. Everything from his length to his girth felt overwhelming. And you loved it. Sex with Jimin felt better than with any other man you had been with before - firstly because Jimin knew what he was doing, and second because you had never been in love with someone as much as you are with Jimin.
Patience had never been your forte, and it showed when Jimin decided to stay still to let you get used to him, but you rose your hips urging him to keep going. It did burn but you liked the slight pain of having Jimin inside you. So he kept going, first slowly, but he quickly grew as impatient as you and started to pick up his pace. Until his hips were crashing against yours, with one of his hands grabbing your waist to stabilize you two. One of his forearms was supporting Jimin's body, next to your head. You reached forward to press your lips to Jimin's in a heated kiss. You two moaned and growled against each other lips, as your hips started to thrust upwards against Jimin's and soon enough you were both in a frenzy on the couch.
Jimin moved one of his hands from your waist to your cheek, softly caressing it. “Baby, are you close?” he moaned loudly. “Hum? I can’t last much longer- Ah… Baby, you feel so good around me.”
“I’m so close baby, just keep going. Please, just a little more… Please,” you moaned and Jimin stopped his movements for a couple seconds after hearing you pleading for him. He knew that he was way too close and you weren’t helping. You begging for him had always been one of his biggest weaknesses.
“Anything for you,” and just like that, his hops were back at it, full speed and thrusting with a strength you hadn’t felt before.
Jimin's and your loud moans were a clear indication of how close you both were. And when you enveloped both your arms around Jimin's thick neck and he thrust himself inside you one last time, before falling on top of you, you came together. Your insides milked him as he kept thrusting his hips softly against yours.
"I love you," you heard him sigh, breathless, against your neck.
"I love yo-"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
5:30 AM. It was Jimin's time to get up and you looked at him as he reached for his phone, on top of the coffee table. "That's my cue," he chuckled, still breathless. And you looked at him in pity.
"You didn't even get to sleep, baby."
"You gave me enough oxytocin to last the whole day. Also, it's not the first time I stay up the whole night. You try to get some sleep, you still have some time," he whispered, still trying to leave your warm embrace.
"Can't you ask the boys to meet up like an hour later or so?" you asked, tightening your arms around his neck, so he wouldn't be able to leave.
"No... Hoseok would kill me," Jimin answered, smiling at your attempt to keep him close.
"If you faint, I will kill you."
"If I faint, I will blame it on you, you sex-starved woman! Always tiring me out!" he laughed against your neck and you slapped his strong shoulder. He raised his head, pressing a soft and long kiss against your lips. "I'll go get ready. Bye baby, see you tonight."
You didn't answer, just resting your head on the soft pillow, already starting to drift off to sleep, just before hearing Jimin scream from the main door.
"Be ready at 8:30! And think where you want to go get dinner."
Jimin wasn't home at 8:30 that night.
He arrived at 10:25 PM, but as you looked into his tired and apologetic eyes, when he stepped inside your house, with flowers in one hand and a bag of KFC takeaway in the other, you knew that no matter how many times Jimin said 'i'm sorry', he'd always mean it. And that was what truly mattered because for as long as he meant it, you knew he loved you. And you loved him.
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thvlouvre · 10 months
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[Teaser]
Little Mouse — Park Jimin
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✔︎ Summary: the principal's son, the reason why you can't enjoy school and the reason why you can't leave it finds out you're having a date with somebody that isn't him. ✔︎ Word Count: 1.12k (teaser only) ✔︎ Trope: Bully yandere Jimin x chubby female reader, enemies to lovers? ✔︎ Warnings: 19 year old Jimin (yes, it is a warning), bullying, evil teenagers, humiliation, degradation, jimin is obnoxious, voyeurism (sort of), se*ual tension, bratty reader, dom jimin, public s*x, jealousy, possessive Jimin, praise, regret, stalking, supplication (this is going to be a ride). ✔︎ thvlouvre's note: YES, I AM AWARE I HAVEN'T FINISH THE TAEHYUNG HADES X PERSEPHONE ONE SHOT 😭💀, but I couldn't resist the idea of bully Jimin realizing he's in love with his victim, this was highly influenced by l.j. shen's vicious and saffron a. kent's bad boy blues, anyways enjoy please and tell me if you liked it.
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You walked down the aisle, your eyes following the book’s spine, looking for the one you were needing for your essay. You previously had asked the librarian to add you to the waitlist for that specific book, since your school only had one copy of it and it was highly requested. According to the date, the book should be free for you now.
You kneel down to keep looking at the title when a noise pulls you out of your thoughts, the sound of two mouths crashing together and the clicks of tongues came to you from your left and before you could stop yourself you looked in that direction. There he was, the person you hated the most on this planet earth, kissing a blonde girl.
His hands were all over her body, he was facing the hallway and her back was all you could see of her. She had her hands on his black hair and his were moving up and down her thighs, and you recognized him just with one look at his hands. The same hands that would throw your books to the floor, the same hands that had push you and the same hands that pointed at you mockingly.
You didn’t want to see Park Jimin making out with someone, even when you found unbelievable he had the ability to feel something pleasing, you would have swear that man could only feel anger and bitterness inside him, but something about the way he was kissing her kept you interested. He opened his eyes, and without breaking the kiss, he smiled when he recognized you, eyeing you during the kiss.
You could tell his eyes shone with that devilish light of his, and his performance during the hook up got heavier. You collected yourself, remembering your task of finding the book and leave the hell out of there, but the book wasn’t there. There was an empty spot where it was supposed to be, and just when you were about to stand go with the librarian the monster spoke.
“Enjoying the show, little mouse?” his out of breath voice was raspy and profound, he was turn on.
“No, I came here looking for a book as the rest of the people here, this is a library not a motel” you pretend to keep searching even when you knew the book wasn’t there, just to not look at him.
“Oh, wouldn’t it be this book the one you want?” the irony leaking on his voice made you turn around and watch his hand wave a small book, it was indeed The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm.
“Give it to me!” you shouted almost forgetting you were on a library, someone staring at you with disgust.
“Oh, you want this?” and he shove the book underneath his white buttoned shirt “Sorry, you will have to look for it” the blonde girl laughed at you and Jimin remembered she was there; it always pisses him off how he forgets about other women easily when you are near, it makes his blood burn.
“Leave” he said to the blonde one, and she opened her eyes with surprise “I said leave” and he pushed her away, he didn’t even let her mute a word when he was taking her backpack from the floor and throw it to her.
She ran out of the library and you followed her with your eyes until she disappeared because you were as confused as her; maybe Jimin was indeed a mentally unstable person, you had no other explanation for his abrupt mood swings.
He stared at you in silence, fascinated with your legs showing off down the uniform skirt in your kneeled position. He walked towards you, grabbing your chin roughly with his fingers.
"Didn't you wish it was you on her place?" He speaks, his breathy voice crashing with your face and he smelled like cigarettes and coca-cola "Didn't you want to be praised by me instead of bullied?"
"I'd rather be your victim than your friend, you're disgusting Jimin, I would do whatever it takes to free myself from you" you spat and before you could add how much you hated him because he grabs you by the neck and forces his mouth in yours. You protest, your hands on his chest trying to push him away but he's bigger.
"Whatever it takes, uh?" He repeated, his lips moving above yours, the tip of his nose touching your cupid's arch and his eyes fixated in yours, "so will you be my slave?"
"You're sick" you responded, trying to push him away, but the harder you tried the strongest his hold was. "I can't believe there's people who genuinely likes you"
"You make me sick, one glance at you and I want to throw up"
“Why did you kiss me then? Why don’t you leave me alone?”
“Because I love charity” he smiled, actually founding funny his own joke "I'm making you a favour just by looking you right in the eye"
"You are the one who's salivating everytime you look at me, Jimin, I'm starting to feel you're in love with me" the voice of the two was starting to get loud, and neither of you notice when the librarian appear in the hallway.
"The two of you, I must pleath you to keep the sound low if necessary for you to keep talking, this is a library not the school yard, you can't be shouting in here" the librarian look at the two of you with stress, and when she notices that it was Jimin himself, her face features softents.
"Mrs. Chester, he has the book that I reserved for this week and I need it to finish my essay, I reserved it last week" you defend yourself.
"Mrs. Chester, I believe we can make an exception per se, and share the book since I need it as well, I'm pretty sure you will understand and any complain about this incident can be notified with my father" he spoke to her with that petulant tone he loved to use, and the old woman opened her eyes impressed at his sutil warning.
"Miss ___ and I got the book issue covered" he continued.
"Okay, I'll leave it to you then, keep the tone low" and she walked faster to her place again.
"Give me the book" you said once again in between your teeths.
"You said 'whatever it takes' and we are about to see how far you're willing to go to set yourself free from me, meet me at the lab at four" and he picked his backpack from the floor and leave you in the library's hallway, scared and hesitant.
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✔︎ thvlouvre's p.s. I don't know if this got the vibe I wanted it to have, but I feel like the warnings might change when I finally get it done, you should get the vibes of the authors I previously quoted, and I'm also trying to see if I can make her portuguese speaking or I should do it just like I first imagine it. However, this one is definitely coming after the taehyung hades one shot, leave your feedback and your kind messages freely 🥰 and remember that english isn't my first language so please forgive and forget any mistake, take care and stream Park Jimin 💋
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wildestdreamsblog · 10 months
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When They Realized They’re Falling
Pairing: Maknae line x Reader
Warnings: This is fluff
A/N: See, maybe I can write stories without making it dark...right?
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Park Jimin
When Park Jimin realized he was falling for you, he had a mental and emotional breakdown. It was on a random night when you squeezed his cheeks as you bid him goodbye because well… you couldn’t resist his cute cheeks. You waved at the six other boys before following your colleague out of BTS’ dorm.
And since then, Jimin remained frozen in his spot that his age-mate, Taehyung, looked at him with teasing smile that he didn’t return. He didn’t move. He was just standing there in their living room so still. And so, he did the only logical thing in his peculiar mind- he pushed Jimin’s shoulder only for him to fall on the sofa behind him. That must have woken him up from his stupor.
Gingerly, he touched his cheeks. It was three seconds before he slid down to the floor.
It was another three hours later when Hoseok and Taehyung stepped out of their rooms, walking to the kitchen in the dark when Taehyung tripped on Jimin’s form.
“Jimin! Why are you still here?” he groaned as he rubbed his knees that hit the floor. Hoseok looked up from his phone before squatting down to look at Jimin’s eyes. When he didn’t move, he poked his shoulder using his phone.
“Hyung,” he whispered before looking at Hoseok with shaking pupils, “Help. I…I think I like Y/N.”
“You’re only realizing that now?” Taehyung scoffed in disbelief before sitting down properly on the floor. He looked down at Jimin before showing him the messages he sent to Taehyung for the past few weeks- all of which were about you. Or the thing you did that he thought was so adorable. Or the joke you told him that made him laughed so hard. Or the way you did your hair that made you looked so cute.
“I think you’re already past liking her at this point,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice before remembering the their hyung was also there- only to find him looking at Jimin’s broken down form with his famous side-eye that couldn’t hide what he was really thinking.  “You’re absolutely right, Tae!” he beamed in realization.
“Hyung, your facial expression hurts just as much as your words,” Jimin said as he sat up, looking at his hyung with serious eyes. “Don’t worry, this is also going to happen to you. You’re going to get hit by love out of nowhere and you’d be the one on the floor breaking down,” he said it so ominously as though he was already setting the course in motion that J-Hope gulped.
Jimin smiled at him before standing up and marching to the door while running his hands through his hair.
“Where are you going? You take that back, Jimin!” Hoseok shouted at him, uncaring about the volume of his voice or the fact that the four other men were probably sleeping. He shouldn’t be joking about that!
He turned his head and grinned at them as though he hadn’t had a breakdown mere minutes ago. “I’m going to ask her out.”
“It’s three in the morning! Get back here and take your curse back, Park Jimin!”
 Kim Taehyung
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“I cannot wait to sleep on my own bed,” Taehyung groaned on the muscular shoulder he had been leaning on the whole ride back to Seoul.
Namjoon could feel the weariness emitting from the younger man. He looked down on the expanse of dark hair leaning against him. “We’ll be home soon, Tae,” he said with empathy in which the man just groaned. He honestly thought he wouldn’t stop groaning that Seokjin even kicked his seat in annoyance to get him to at least be quiet. In case he didn’t know, people were sleeping for heaven’s sake.
Yet he didn’t.
Namjoon was about to reprimand the man when said man’s phone dinged. Taehyung suddenly stopped, sat up straight and opened his phone, uncaring if the man beside him could see the messages.
Taehyung, 12:32 pm: How’s your day, pretty girl?
Taehyung, 01:03 pm: Did you eat the lunch I sent you?
My Pretty Girl, 3:09 pm: I did! Thank you so much. Work is so crazy right now.
My Pretty Girl, 3:10 pm: How are you?
Taehyung, 03:13 pm: My poor girl :< I sent you coffee.
Taehyung, 06:03 pm: On my way back to Seoul. Are you on your way home, pretty girl?
My Pretty Girl, 9:10 pm: How did you know my favorite coffee shop?  And no, still stuck at work. I dread driving at night though.
Taehyung pouted at your message. His girl (yes, his. You just didn’t know it right now) was a hard worker. He loved that about you. Your independence and how capable you were were just some of the things that attracted him to you. But also, that was your downfall. Your independence and your inability to let anyone take care of you were his headaches.
He wanted to take care of you so bad. If you let him, he would even pay for your apartment and your car. But when he brought it up one dinner that you agreed to meet him because believe it or not, your schedule was more packed that his, you stood up and left him in the restaurant. So now, he was settling on just buying you food and coffee. But in his mind, once you were really his, he would buy you the greatest pleasure this world had to offer.
Namjoon watched the younger man as his brows furrowed. He looked out the window before telling the driver to drop him off near your office.
“I thought you wanted to sleep, Tae?”
“Yah! You woke us all up with your whining and now you’re not coming home with us?” Seokjin erupted in which Taehyung just flashed him his boxy smile in apologies.
“You said you wanted to rest, hyung!” Jungkook mumbled loudly and his words muffled, his own head burrowed on Jin’s shoulders.
“I am,” he blinked innocently at his members as the van stopped. “I’m going to my rest.”
You were massaging your neck, your eyes trained on your phone as you walked to the almost empty parking lot. It was a long day but you were glad all your deliverables were done now. And tomorrow was weekend so you could sleep your heart out.
Taehyung hadn’t replied yet. He must have already been sleeping, you thought. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he was enamored by you. You couldn’t understand why his interest hadn’t waned yet despite the limited time you gave him. But you must admit, his constant effort was affecting you now. And Heavens, the way he looked at you was something else.
Kim Taehyung was a masterpiece, and that masterpiece had eyes on you.
All you could hear was the sound of your heels as you walked. You were lost in your own thoughts. And when you looked up once you neared your car- there he was. Kim Taehyung was smiling as he watched you walked near him. God, you were so beautiful and…he realized he was in love with you. Maybe he had been in love with you for a while now. The realization of his own feelings gave him nothing but strangely, peace.
You could feel yourself smiling so wide as you finally stood near the man leaning against your car. “What are you doing here?” you breathed as you took him in. His unruly dark hair, his blue jeans and black leather jacket, his relaxed form, and his eyes that seemed to shine as he looked at his girl.
“You said you dreaded driving home,” his deep voice replied as though it was so simple. “So here I am.”
“B-but…you’re exhausted, Tae. You don’t have to-“
Suddenly, his strong arms were wrapped around you. His head rested on your shoulder as he hugged you tighter. “You’re here. I feel okay now.”
Jeon Jungkook
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“Why are you frowning so hard?” Seokjin asked the golden maknae as he watched him looked at his phone as though it personally offended him. It was peculiar for the youngest member to not wolf down as soon as Jin placed the plate in front of him. Didn’t he whine an hour ago that he was hungry and demanded his hyung to cook him his favorite meal at eleven in the evening?
“She’s not yet home,” he mumbled under his breath, his lips in an adorable pout that made Jin cut his food himself and feed him a bite.
“Who’s not yet home?” he asked patiently as he watched the muscular man chewed the food he begged for and now wouldn’t even touch.
“Y/N.”
Ah. You, Seokjin thought. You were the only one who managed to make their maknae acted like this. In fact, this kid had no close relationships that he maintained except for the members and well…now you. And the worst thing was that the kid looked like he lost his wife and he didn’t even realize the hold you had on him. It was both entertaining and frustrating for them to watch their maknae got so giddy whenever he saw you, jumping up and down and sliding next to you to monopolize you attention. But the moment you left, he turned into a puppy that had been kicked to the curb- whining and pouting about how he was losing you.
And through it all he swore he saw you merely as a friend.
Well, a friend didn’t look at you the way JK did. A friend wouldn’t look at you leaving as though he wanted to shackle you next to him for eternity but was attempting so hard to stop himself, Seokjin thought.
A friend wouldn’t look at you as you laughed as though he wanted nothing but to finally taste your lips. It was a source of entertainment to the maknae line to see Jungkook navigate his way through these new emotions and an exasperation to the hyung line to see him be so fucking clueless.
In fact, that night, even the leader had had enough of his sadness.
“It’s late,” Jin commented before feeding him another bite. “Why is she still out?”
“She has this paper she needs to finish for her grad school,” he replied with a hint of worry and annoyance. He meant, seriously it wasn’t safe outside! So many terrible people were out there and you had no one to protect you. “It’s already ten pm and she’s still out and there’s no way she’s safe. Seriously, what is this girl thinking?”
Namjoon sighed for the fifth time. His grip on his book loosening before turning to look at the golden maknae. He was sporting a diplomatic smile before ruining JK’s sanity, “Perhaps she’s studying with a classmate outside?”
“Who?!”
“Maybe her girl classmates? Or…a male classmate?”
They had never seen Jungkook walked out of their dorm that fast.
Namjoon grinned at the bewildered Seokjin, “They grew up so fast.”
You looked up as soon as you saw those familiar black boots on your periphery. Your focus was taken by the man now sitting in front of you, his hair covered by a bucket hat.
Slowly, you removed your headphones in surprise. How was he here?
“Kookie…what are you doing here?”
He pouted at you before opening his tablet. He had his digital pen in his hand as he made himself comfortable. “Don’t mind me. Do your thing, sweetheart.” And then he quietly focused on drawing on his tablet. You reluctantly went back to your laptop and periodically looked up at him only to catch him looking at you with his doe eyes that seemed to be deep in thought.
It was two hours later when you decided to finally call it a night. You closed your laptop carefully. And when you looked up, you saw him hunched down on his tablet, his eyes gleaming with focus as he put on the finishing touches of his drawing…and to your shock, it was you.
He looked up and caught you looking at his drawing. You looked up painstakingly slow to meet his dark eyes. The look he gave you was intense, and dark, and full of emotions you couldn’t name.
“You’re done, sweetheart?”
He smiled so sweetly when you nodded. “I’ll walk you home.”
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dollfacerecs · 6 months
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— park ⋆ ji ⋆ min
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pjm fic recommendation list by clover. 🍀 ↓
♡ = smut ; ♤ = angst ; ♧ = fluff ; ♕ = favorite
main list
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♢ rage ; ♡ || one-shot (part of a series) — by @hamsterclaw
⇝ cop!jimin, hobbyist!reader // reader is so hot in this. so bratty n not afraid to speak her mind. jimin as well OOOOF. the fact he didn’t care to learn all that shit but kept going to see you lets go.
♢ when the camellia blooms ; ♤ || ? — by @tanniesjeom
⇝ hanahaki disease, unrequited love // i put the question mark cause i can’t find the first part anymore but part 2 can be read as a stand-alone so? oh well. sad. heartbreaking. just angst. it’s also been a whileeee since i read this
♢ faded love ; ♤ || one-shot — by @jamaisjoons
⇝ shitty marriage, cheater!jimin // again, read this years ago but i remember the development of jimin hating the counseling appointments and meeting you for an hour but slowly looking forward to them just for you to start giving up just good ole angst.
♢ horizon ; ♡, ♤ || one-shot — by @hamsterclaw
⇝ dystopia, sexworker!reader // beware, mentions of violent clients! jimin making sure to be gentle w u :(( running away w u :(((
♢ heartburn ; ♤ || completed — by @jiminrings
⇝ cheater!jimin, wedding season // this is more like emotional cheating but yes jiminrings has done it again. the way they write angst and the things they come up with im just… so obsessed w them like.
♢ pending…
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eoieopda · 1 year
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menace (pjm) — pt. ii
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“Be careful with that lip,” he warned in a thick voice dropped low, “Pout like that again, and I might bite it.”
Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 2/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Word Count: 6.5K Content: (General) Seokjin’s younger sister AU; fuck buddies that hate each other; reader is AFAB & queer; surprise cameo by my current dream girl. (SMUT | 18+) this part is written in sort of an omniscient POV; brat-tamer!Jimin & brat!Reader; oral sex (m); manhandling; spanking; slight degradation & spit kink; unprotected sex (p in v); safe word in place (unused). A/N: Absolutely re-worked a shit ton of this part after “Smoke Sprite” dropped because I needed this cameo to happen 😵‍💫 I'm gonna put the tags in the comments this time because Tumblr has been shitty about them lately, lol.
Immediately after Jimin left you in that green room, dangling off a ledge, you did your best to bury that blush on your cheeks in pressed powder. The lip balm he was wearing when he kissed your temple caused that powder to cling where you didn’t want it, and it left you with two options:
You could uproot the flawless base you’d created prior to his unwelcome arrival, spend time you didn’t have destroying evidence. Alternatively, you could pretend not to notice the faint lip print shining in a shade just slightly darker than the rest of your face. Even if it was more or less invisible to the naked eye, it was a flashing, neon sign to you.
And just like that, his unanticipated crumb of affection made sense. So, you grabbed a makeup wipe from the travel-sized package you brought with you and set back to work.
That motherfucker.
When you’d gathered yourself to the best of your ability, you glanced in the mirror. Still a bit flushed, still a bit shaky, but still deadly. Any other loner you'd run into wouldn’t stand a chance; and though your primary goal was paying off the orgasm debt Jimin had defaulted on, it didn’t hurt to consider how far up a wall it would drive him to watch you weigh your options.
You wouldn’t chalk it up to jealousy, the way Jimin reacted when he saw you convert strangers into acolytes. From where you were standing, that telltale clench of his jaw wasn’t precipitated by your habit of looking at anyone but him. More than anything, his problem likely had to do with the fact that it was you people were staring at — not him. The name of the game was desirability, after all; and Jimin seemed to really fucking hate it whenever you pulled ahead — collected more merit badges in the form of phone numbers.
Of course, he might not have hated it as much if you didn’t love rubbing his nose in it to the extent you did.
Upon walking out into the club’s private bar, the first face you caught sight of was that of your brother. Judging by the way he was sputtering, Seokjin was witnessing your weather-inappropriate outfit for the first time — and he was not handling it well. You rolled your eyes, refusing to give him and the burnt-red tips of his ears a second glance. If you did, he’d be launching himself over bar stools to force you into his winter coat.
Worse, knowing how reactionary he was when it came to you, it was safe to assume that he’d enucleate every wandering eye he found fixated on you. That wouldn’t bode well for the stranger seated at the center of the bar, whose whiskey-warm gaze in your direction was an invitation in and of itself.
Coincidence or kismet, it didn’t matter — the only open spot at the bar happened to be right next to her, whoever she was. She grabbed her clutch off the bar top in front of that unoccupied stool as soon as she saw you headed her way. Despite the distance, you could see the smirk working its way across her lips; and the nearly imperceptible dimple she’d unearthed in doing so.
Target acquired.
When you finally reached her, it was difficult to tell whether the slight tremble in your knees was due to the discomfort of your heels, or the sharp cut of her jaw jutting out beyond the razored edge of her hair. Pretending that it was neither, rather than both, you gestured to the open seat with a coquettish smile, “Saving this for someone?”
The stranger’s voice was deeper than you expected from someone as petite; it left your whole hopeless body vibrating.
“My Valentine,” she said with a dreamy sigh, and it sounded like a song. Mirroring the movement of your finger, she pointed nonchalantly to the stool, silently telling you to claim it. “Lucky for me, I think I found them.”
“Lucky for them,” you corrected, sliding into your seat and title simultaneously. Now with your elbow resting against the bar, you propped your chin up on the heel of your hand and narrowed your eyes thoughtfully. “If only they knew your name.”
The same finger that guided you to your spot raised to flag down the bartender. What else can it do? Killing two birds with one stone, she told the bartender which tab to put your drink on: “Hwang Soyoon —”
“Someak, please.”
“— but naekko works, too.”
It might’ve been the cheesiest line you’d ever heard, but goddamn, was it effective. You accepted your drink with a quick bow of your head, then even more quickly, you took a swig to calm the heat threatening to burn through your cheeks. Once the butterflies in your stomach were sufficiently drowned in alcohol, you set your glass back down on a coaster and picked up Soyoon’s hand in its place.
“You this smooth on the dance floor?” you asked as you tilted your head in the direction of your destination.
In lieu of a verbal response, she got to her feet and, with another smirk, she helped you to yours.
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Two drinks and no small amount of shameless, wholly observable flirting later, you and your prize stumbled off the dance floor to reclaim your seats at the bar. Soyoon’s arm likely would’ve remained draped around your shoulders whether your heels hurt or not; but you had no qualms about playing it up, playing right into her hands.
Tragically, with you deposited safely on a bar stool, Soyoon’s hands slipped away — but not before her fingertips slid slowly down the length of your spine, leaving you to tingle hopelessly in her wake. Oh, for fuck’s sake, was it really that easy to get to you?
She ducked down and came in close so you could hear her over the music. “I’m headed for the restroom,” she said, “Don’t run away, yeah?”
Eyes wide and twinkling, you nodded obediently — albeit more enthusiastically than you wanted to let on — and you felt a small crack form in your nonchalant façade. Never were much good with a poker face, huh? Unable to cover it, the corners of your mouth automatically curved downward as she turned away. They didn’t stay there for long.
Several meters away, now unobstructed without Soyoon in front of you, stood Park Jimin. To put it mildly, he was incensed, angst radiating off of him like a smoke signal. His stony gaze pinned you where you sat; and those eyes narrowed further, flashing a shade darker when you raised both middle fingers. They were near to black when you used those neatly manicured fingertips to push the corners of your mouth into a shit-eating grin.
“Smile, fucker!” You mouthed.
Jimin, now positively glowering, held up his own middle fingers in response. This time, he didn’t imitate your smug antics. The look on his face was a bullet, hitting you hard in the chest and causing your body to clench on instinct, and your stomach to flip with anticipation. Oh, you were going to get it for this.
So, you figured, why not push that thorn a little further into his side?
Without stopping to think twice, you rose again to your feet. God, these fucking heels. You swallowed down the pain emanating from the balls of your feet and strutted up to him like it didn’t ache to do so. Unfortunately, none of the heads you turned in the process would suffice.
By the time you were halfway to his small, circular table, Jimin had already looked away. Drink held up to his lips, he sipped and stared coolly off into the crowd. Like you weren’t there, like you weren’t worthy of ongoing attention.
Liar.
He continued looking everywhere else when you slipped in beside him — when you flicked your hair over your shoulder and grazed his in the process — when you failed to conceal the pout beginning to form on your face.
This motherfucker.
Even as you glared up at him, Jimin ignored you. With a huff, you crossed your arms over your chest and shifted your weight from one leg to the other.
You played this game with him constantly but in reverse, allowing him to feel like he was invisible, like you couldn’t be bothered to register his presence. With that ego of his, you knew it stung — and you knew exactly how childish it was to hate the taste of your own medicine.
“You know, it’s rude to leer,” you breezed, “Worse, the optics are a bit… predatory, don’t you think? Weird, lone male shooting daggers at a couple of sapphics?”
He took another sip of his drink, set the glass down, and tilted his head to flutter his eyelashes at you. His tone was dripping in feigned innocence when he replied, “Would the optics be better if I left a pretty girl alone at a bar? What if I did it just to throw myself at someone else?”
You didn’t know why you felt the need to defend yourself, but you did; rushing headlong, right into the pitfall, “I didn’t leave anyone — she went to the restroom.”
Jimin smirked and nodded once over your shoulder, “Well, she’s back now.”
You quickly turned your head to see what he did: Soyoon rolling her eyes while you froze and Jimin waved at her with a frighteningly accurate imitation of friendliness. She was gone again in the blink of an eye, slipping off towards the door, before you could even dream of catching up to her.
Shit. Why were you like this?
“Poor baby,” he cooed with the world’s most patronizing frown. “Gonna pout some more?”
Already cutting your losses, you plastered on a saccharine smile, “Of course not.” Your fingertips whispered over his forearm as you leaned into his ear. With a voice that dripped dark and sweet like honey, you quoted him and watched his pupils blow, “I’m going to make you cry.”
Jimin grabbed his glass and tossed back the liquor that remained without flinching. Then, he leaned down, lips damn near touching your ear, and snapped, “Get your shit and meet me outside in ten minutes. If you’re late, you’re walking.”
You exhaled a laugh through your nose and raised an eyebrow, “Who said I wanted to leave with you?”
With how closely he was standing to you, Jimin had completely shielded you from the throng of people standing nearby. Cloaked in low light, his hand ducked under the hem of your dress so he could scrape his thumb nail over the spot he’d marked earlier with your own wetness.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he whispered darkly with eyes fixated on your mouth. He licked his lips, then emphasized each word: “Ten — minutes.”
Jimin disappeared and left you to stand there with a wildfire tearing through your insides. You waited until you knew he was gone to let go of the breath you’d unintentionally been holding, now a shaky gasp that died as soon as it hit the air.
It took you less than three minutes to race off to the green room and gather your coat, purse, and regrettably large makeup bag. Despite that fact, you made a point to stand a few meters from the club’s exit for what remained of your ten minutes. You stared down at your watch, still aflame, and watched the seconds tick by; smirking as you allowed one extra minute to slip away.
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Eleven minutes after you’d parted ways, you slipped past Seokjin and out the back door to find Jimin leaning impatiently against his car with his arms crossed.
“Brave of you,” His tone was light, but his eyes were anything but. “You gonna be like this all night?”
You cocked your head to the side the way he’d done earlier. “I’m not sure what you mean, Park,” you said with your blinking eyes sweet enough to cause a cavity. “You gonna stand there, or are you gonna help me with these?”
He watched you raise your encumbered hands like your cosmetics were made of bricks, and let out a long-suffering groan. Jimin knew you were full of shit; you were the last person who ever needed — or wanted — his help. You were just an unmitigated pain in his ass, always. But he clearly had places to be and people to ruin, and your brattish behavior was once again interfering with well-laid plans.
When he crossed over to you, his footsteps kicked up a cloud of dirt that swirled in weak pirouettes around his ankles. In no time at all, he grabbed the bags you pretended to struggle with and carried them just as easily as you could’ve, if you deigned to lift a finger. He shot you a look that broadcasted: I’m only doing this to get your ass moving.
You giggled meanly as he dealt with your burden and sauntered off to the front seat of his SUV. It took a bit of effort to balance yourself on your fucking heels as you slid onto to leather, but you were immediately grateful to be off your feet again. Once you’d settled, you glanced down and realized how far the hem of your dress had shifted in the process.
In any other circumstance, you’d fix it, cover the dangerous expanse of your exposed, upper thigh. Now, though, you opted not to do a damn thing about it. Instead, you did what came naturally: you made it worse.
With a contented sigh, you kicked off your pumps and rested your feet on his dashboard, bare legs stretched out ahead until they crossed at the ankles. If your brother were here, he’d tell you that you were being rude; and in anyone else’s car, Seokjin would be right. Still, you knew it ate at Jimin whenever you did whatever improper thing you wanted.
You knew the way his cock twitched when he watched you not give a fuck; when you suckered him into doing menial tasks, like tucking your belongings into the backseat of his car. He’d never say so and you’d never ask, but there was no other explanation you could think of for why he gave in. Punctuating your thought, he slammed the back door and made his way to the driver’s seat.
Jimin slid into the spot next to you and immediately clocked the way the skirt of your dress had hitched up. He stared for a moment longer than he likely meant to, then his eyes trailed down your legs to find your bare feet resting on his dashboard.
“Were you raised by wolves?” He waved his hand at your legs with annoyance that only grew alongside your smirk. “Seriously, you’re a fucking animal.”
You let your head roll to your shoulder as you leaned over the center console. “Oh, you cut me, Park.” You teased and poked out your bottom lip out in a put-upon pout.
Adding injury to insult, you threw your hand up to your forehead in your best imitation of his usual theatrics — then, you let it drop. The back of your hand collided with his bicep as it fell; and it remained there long enough for him to reach out and grab it. His fingers encircled your wrist easily, doubling over and gripping hard.
“Be careful with that lip,” he warned in a thick voice dropped low, “Pout like that again, and I might bite it.”
You raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to try. To the contrary, Jimin let go of your wrist and pushed your hand off him so he could slide the key into the ignition. The engine sputtered without turning over, leaving you to wonder if it was going to start at all.
He scoffed, “See? Told you that if you weren’t here in ten minutes, you’d be walking.”
To both of your surprise, you exhaled a laugh — a genuine one, no less — at his little joke. It caught him off guard and caused him to chuckle, too, for just a moment before he stopped abruptly and muttered, “Shut up. I’m concentrating.”
“Like I’ve never heard you say that before.”
You rolled your eyes and then your neck to lean your head against the seat rest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shoot you an indignant look; but as usual, you ignored it. “Should I just leave then?”
When his exasperation briefly flickered over to confusion, you gestured out the window to a taxi parked nearby. If you ditched him now, you’d be home in five minutes instead of however long this was going to take.
“Patience,” Jimin growled as he wiggled the key and turned it again. “If you could — just once — stop bitching and wait —” The engine roared to life with one last turn of the key. “— you could wipe that miserable look off your face.”
You turned in your seat, genuinely offended, as he pulled out onto the street. “I look miserable?” You laughed hotly, “You look like a kicked puppy every time I see you.”
Jimin’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. “Did you ever think about the timing of that?” He fired back. “You think it’s a coincidence that I look like this whenever I’m confronted with that?”
He didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he did remove one hand to point it right at your face, which featured wild eyes and gritted teeth.
“I swear to God, it’s like you were designed in a lab somewhere for the sole purpose of sapping my will to live. How the fuck else does a person end up being this much of a nightmare?” Jimin was nearly shouting now. As his voice raised, so did your heart rate — so did your chest as you heaved forceful, angry breaths.
Though the heat of your seething bodies was starting to steam up the windows, you could still see the shadow of your tiny house approaching quickly from the middle distance. Throwing your arm out, you pointed to the driveway he was about to rocket past and snarled, “Fucking brake!”
Jimin begrudgingly did as you said. Your bodies both lurched forwards. Your seat belt gripped you the same way his arm had earlier, but when you crashed backwards, your back was flush to your seat instead of his chest. Just as suddenly as he’s braked, he whipped his car into your driveway and came dangerously close to your garage door before throwing the gear shift to park.
“You absolute fucking menace!” You smacked his bicep again, harder now, “Are you trying to forfeit my security deposit? Why don’t you just open my wallet a burn every won you find?”
With a grunt, you threw off your seat belt and let the end of it smack against the plastic molding as it returned to its resting place. He did the same, in the same manner you had, but went ahead to criticize you for your roughness.
“I only give a shit about the dents you’re so dead-set on making in my car,” Jimin spat. Turning abruptly to you, his hand darted out, dipped under your left leg, and prompted you to pull your feet down from his dashboard. “Your rental means dick to me.”
You rolled your eyes for the hundredth time that night as you slipped out of your seat, grabbed your heels, and slammed his passenger door shut behind you. Shoving your clenched fist into your coat pocket, you gripped your keys and pulled them out as if you were wielding a knife. Rage still simmering, you stomped barefoot up to your doorstep just to fumble with the lock on your front door.
As you struggled, the key slipped from your fingers and clattered down against the concrete patch below. That pin dropped from the grenade and exploded through the quiet. As you stared down dejectedly at it, your tiny growl came out like a whine.
Before you could snatch it off the ground, Jimin swooped in. “Give it here, crybaby,” he said while shooting you an exasperated look. With ease, he jammed the key into the lock, turned it, and shoved the door open.
The inner doorknob smashed against the wall of your foyer, and you rounded on him immediately. Jimin raised one finger in your face, and it stopped your shout before it could fly out at him. He stared straight ahead of him, positively seething, “If you mention your security deposit again, I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”
Beyond fed up, you huffed once more and stomped off over the threshold. You didn’t give a shit if he followed you.
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As you tore down the hallway to your bedroom, you didn’t bother switching on any of the lights you passed. You were too busy throwing down your shoes and wrestling out of your jacket; leaving a trail of outerwear behind you as you went. Entirely incapable of caring that you’d created an obstacle course for the boy mere steps away.
Jimin staggered along after you, dodging the various items of clothing you’d left scattered across the hardwood. His jacket and shoes clattered to the ground on top of yours, thudding heavy like his pulse in his ears. Twin tornados as usual, you left a path of total destruction in your wake — every single time.
When he finally reached your bedroom, Jimin was panting. You were sitting and seething on the edge of your bed, trying desperately — and failing — to reach the zipper on the back of your dress. True to form, he leaned against the wall and watched you with quiet amusement but offered no aid.
Truthfully, he liked the idea of you wearing that stupid little number while he fucked you; he’d been marinating in that little fantasy all night. Unlike every other person in that club, Jimin didn’t have to imagine the curve of your ass underneath that red satin. He didn’t have to dream about kissing at your thighs the way the edge of that fabric did when you danced, or sunk down onto a bar stool and crossed one leg over the other.
No, Jimin had no quarrel with that dress — he felt equal to it, rather than robbed by it. He’d been everywhere it had and then some, a million times or more.
As he watched your frustration build, he wondered if you’d give up soon. His dick was swelling uncomfortably against his chinos, and he was beginning to lose his already limited patience. So, apparently, were you. Reaching behind your back, you gripped the sides of your dress in both fists and pulled — hard. You gasped as if it’d hurt you, but Jimin knew it would take much more than that.
There was the unmistakable sound of plastic breaking, and then the familiar look of triumph on your face as you stood. Your dress slipped off you like water and dropped dead in a pool of red at your feet. The mangled zipper was somehow still attached, but its teeth had been pried open. Jimin tried not to look impressed — your ever-present ego didn’t need to be bolstered.
You stepped out of the halo around your ankles and kicked it carelessly aside, vowing silently to replace the zipper tomorrow. You lifted your head, breathing hard, and locked eyes with Jimin. The sight of him standing there, doing fuck all, forced an indignant groan out of your parted lips.
“Why —” You hissed, “Are you still dressed?”
Jimin shrugged noncommittally, knowing full well it would enrage you. “Figured you had a knack for zippers,” He murmured innocently, “Was thinking you could handle mine.”
He was goading you, and you knew it, and you still took the bait. He wanted your animalistic hands clawing desperately at him, and to an extent, he’d get them. But he should have been more careful with what he wished for because he wasn’t ready for you.
You closed the distance between you and pushed the center of his chest — not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough for the unexpected force to knock his head back against the wall. You were on one tonight, and for once, he didn’t bite back at you. The look in his eyes admitted that he enjoyed this side of you; that he wanted to see what came of it.
You wasted no time dropping to your knees in front of him and flicking open his belt buckle. Once you had proper access, nimble fingers undid the top button of his slacks, exposing his zipper. You were half-tempted to rip it the way you’d ripped your own — to teach him a lesson — but you didn’t. You inhaled slowly, and exhaled more so.
As sluggishly as you could, you tugged the zipper down. Your knuckle brushed against the side of his cock as it pressed eagerly against the fabric of his trousers and underlying boxer briefs; it twitched at the brief contact. Even more slowly, you slid your fingers through belt loops on either side of his hips and tugged. With the pressure of his pants alleviated, you heard him sigh softly overhead.
It was so stupidly easy to get him hard like this. And on the off chance it wasn’t this easy for everyone, you were an expert at making him like this. You leaned towards the tip, and as you did, you looked up at him from under your lashes. His cock jerked in response, begging for attention you were still refusing to pay it.
You had him, hook, line, and sinker.
Without breaking eye contact, you let your tongue slide out from between your lips. As chastely as a thing like it could be done, you ran it over the tip of his clothed cock, fabric already dampened by pre-cum before your saliva could stain it.
“Fucking touch it already,” Jimin snarled from above you.
You smirked, bumping your chin against the side of him but childishly refusing to put your mouth back on him.
“You begging, Park? Is that what that was?” You pressed up higher on your knees so that his length rested against the center of your throat. If your hypothesis panned out, the vibration of your voice alone might kill him. “If you’re going to beg, you should use your manners.”
He groaned exactly as you predicted he would, letting his eyes screw shut — half blissed, half vexed. With them still closed, his hand reached out and carded gently through the hair at the crown of your head; uncharacteristically soft until he grabbed a handful. The sting at your scalp caused your eyes to water, and your head to tilt back.
Now with half-lidded eyes, Jimin watched the column of your exposed throat bob as he used his free hand to push down the waistband of his briefs — the last barrier between his cock and your mouth. He wanted you full of him if that’s what it took to finally shut you up.
Your index finger traced the vein running along the underside of his length, dragged out another involuntary twitch that burned him up inside. You then switched to your thumb as you went gliding back the way you’d come, and when you finally reached the base of him, your hand teased his balls. Left without words to hurl at you, all Jimin could do was swallow a groan and grip your soft strands tighter.
It was a drag-out fight to keep his eyes open, but he had to if he wanted to watch you kneel in front of him as if you were praying. So perfectly obscene; he’d die a thousand times before you finally took him in your mouth.
You spat in the palm of your hand — unexpectedly crude for a princess like you — and then you began working the length of his dick with alternating pressure. As your small, soft hand pumped him, your mouth surprised him. When you enveloped one of his balls with your mouth, he keened and allowed his eyes to flutter shut again.
As far as Jimin was concerned, there was one use for that bratty mouth, and this was it.
After too few moments massaging his balls with your mouth, you tragically pulled back. The interruption in contact caused him to crack his eyes open and peer desperately back down at you. Under a curtain of dark lashes, your gaze rose to meet his — and then, without warning, you spat directly on his cock. Involuntarily, Jimin’s mouth dropped open and stayed that way as he watched the trail of saliva connect your bottom lip to him.
Oh, fuck you.
Your tongue swirled expertly over his tip while your hand worked over the base of his cock. Try as you might, you’d never fit all of him in your mouth at once — at least, you were sure Jimin assumed so. You hallowed out your cheeks and bobbed your head along as you took more and more of him; earning shuddered moans as you did.
Every now and then, he’d pull at your hair and roll his hips forward, fuck himself a little further into your mouth. You’d feign a whimper as if he was pushing you to your limit, and you let him think so. The sick sound of you pretending to struggle was dragging him close to the edge, but Jimin had no idea what his undoing would truly be:
Smirking to yourself, you wrapped your hands around the back of his thighs to anchor yourself. Undoubtedly confused, you felt him tense in the moment before you pushed further, further, further. Blinking away tears, you noted the way his eyes sparked when his tip slid past your soft palate and touched the back of your throat. They screwed shut as soon you caught him staring and swallowed.
“Ohh, fuck!”
The words sputtered out of Jimin’s mouth the same way his cum shot down the back of your throat. Tensed fingers twisted in your hair as his hips jerked helplessly against the heat of your wide-open mouth. Unable to process any part of what you’d just done to him, he couldn’t seem to get any air in his lungs either — somehow, you’d broken his brain, and his body didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.
You pressed against the front of his thighs as you leaned away from him, eyes still locked. Then, you lifted the back of your hand to your mouth — twisted in some devilish grin — and wiped the spit that had dribbled down your chin.
You little fucking demon.
Jimin hated it when you finished him off during the first round; and you knew it. It infuriated him to no end when you spent him like that — right out of the gate — because he’d have to wait to retaliate. You were well aware of that fact, too. Goddamn menace.
As blissed out as he was with his cock shoved down your throat, he was bubbling over with exasperation in the aftermath. “What the fuck was that?” He panted.
Jimin had so many questions, but he wouldn’t ask you anything further. Who does that? Who planted that idea in your head? Who had you been practicing on, and why hadn’t it been him?
The impish glint in your eyes didn’t dissipate when you shrugged noncommittally — just as he’d done to you, mere minutes before you’d successfully scrambled his brains. Because there was nothing you loved more than weaponizing his own words against him, you sighed with a frown, “Was thinking you could handle me. Nobody busts that fast, though. D’you think you should see a specialist about that?”
Instant gratification came when his arms hooked under your arms and lifted you abruptly from your feet to your knees. So, maybe there was one thing you loved more than firing his bullshit back at him. You tried not to let the excitement show on your face when he spun you around, left you staring down at your bed while you dripped with anticipation.
“Shut your mouth,” Jimin demanded while he took your arms hostage behind you. Evidence of his returning arousal was pressed flush against the small of your back, stoking the fire building in your core. “And lay down on your stomach.”
For once, you did what he said without putting up a fight. Despite the scowl on your face, there was a hurricane inside you that left your mind dizzy, and your panties soaked. Falling into place atop your duvet, you stretched your arms up and under the coolness of your pillows with a sigh. The soft fabric against your cheek and naked chest nearly had you in a trance.
It was a hard slap on your ass that brought you back to the present moment; and ravenous hands tugging down your underwear that kept you there. Your pleasured cries filled every space between his words and his swift smacks, but they went ignored; dead and buried in the fibers of your bedding.
“Why is it —” His warm palm collided with your doughy flesh again and you whimpered, though you tried to swallow it. “— that you look your best — ” He kept his hand still to dull the sting, only to dig blunt fingertips into your ass cheek. “— with your face buried in your pillows?”
You turned to putty in his hands every time he played so roughly with your skin, left little keepsakes behind to remind you where he’d been. If you hadn’t encouraged him to mark you, you suspected he wouldn’t. To his credit, Jimin was much gentler before you stopped letting him be; and as time passed — to your surprise — turning you on seemed to factor heavily into his own arousal.
Not inclined to waste any more time, he leaned over your reddened, stinging backside and grabbed the hands you’d stowed away under your pillows. Though he took care not to ring out your shoulders, he nipped cruelly at one with his teeth as he encircled your wrists with his fingers and jerked them down behind your back. He held them in place with his left hand and brought his right hand expectantly to your mouth.
Jimin didn’t have to say a word for you to hear him, loud and clear. You spit into his hand and, within seconds and without speaking, he pulled away again. In your peripheral vision, you watched in a daze as he pumped his fist back and forth to spread your saliva down his length, rolling his wrist as he worked the tip, bottom lip clenched between his teeth.
Selfishly, albeit predictably, he was more fixated on himself than you – and it drove you mad. You knew better, but you still interjected: “If you’re not going to fuck me, can you get out of my house?”
“Really sealed your fate with that one,” Jimin laughed dryly before smacking his hand down on your ass. As he gripped, he spread your cheeks apart, though his knees on either side of your legs kept you from moving. “Remember to say boksunga when you can no longer handle the consequences of your own actions.”
With that brief reference to your safe word — the one neither of you had used since it was chosen several months ago — he lined himself up at your spit-slicked entrance. The feeling of his tip at your slit caused you to swallow hard; and knowing what was coming next made your stomach flip. Your lips parted in the anticipation of a gasp.
The pressure of him driving himself into you — slowly and conscientiously, but to the hilt, nonetheless — was all but blinding. You needed him to move for you to acclimate to his size, but he stayed torturously still, leaving your shocked walls struggling to adjust. With your legs pinned together the way they were, you felt every vein, every slight curve — but what you still didn’t feel was movement.
“Move, Park,” you hissed through gritted teeth. The stretch brought on by his girth threatened to split you clean in half, no matter how many times he’d entered you before. It was difficult to breathe apart from gasping.
He responded in your own words, mocking the tone you’d taken with him not ten minutes earlier. “Are you begging? If you’re going to beg, you should really use your manners.”
“P-Park, I swear to God —”
He leaned down to your ear and somehow — though you’d have thought it impossible — his cock buried deeper inside of you. One wrong move, and you could kiss your cervix goodbye. In every way that mattered, you were trapped.
“There’s gotta be a please rolling around in that space between your ears,” He teased in a low voice that broke you.
Your swallowed pride burned on its way down. “Please,” you begged, “Please move. I need you to move.”
Satisfied that he’d snuffed out the fight in you, Jimin acquiesced. As he pulled away from your ear, he rolled back — tantalizing but, as you quickly learned, a false front. He pushed back in just as deeply as the first time without ever pulling out completely. The curve of his cock ground against your g-spot; the hands gripping hard at your captured wrists did nothing to stabilize you as you shuddered.
“Is that all it takes to make you go quiet?” His laugh struck harder than his hips did when they snapped forward. “Shit — if that’s the case, then why do I ever stop fucking you?”
Every time his pelvis collided with the flesh of your ass, the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the electrified air of your bedroom. It was all unholy, but still, you begged God that he’d never stop. He was wrong, though – you were anything but quiet.
To the contrary, you were on the brink of babbling as your cunt gushed around him. With each thrust into your wet heat, Jimin shook another useless thought loose; sent you out of your mind over him.
You’d devolved into a muttering fool by the time your orgasm crept up from the pit of your stomach. When it finally crashed over you, you sensed that it was compensating for the one you’d been denied earlier. Every sensation seemed doubled, and twice as hard to fight.
You screamed as you came — a sound Jimin had never heard from you before — and he was entirely unprepared for it. You came undone around him with a half-sob and forced his release in tandem with yours, cunt squeezing him so tightly that his vision started to blur.
And when the firefight was over, you were both silent. Fucked stupid, neither of you were capable of speech, let alone critical thought.
It was funny, you thought as you re-entered the Earth’s atmosphere, that the only peace you’d ever known with Jimin came immediately after you did.
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aquagustd · 2 years
Text
lust for life - PJM
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your summer holiday takes an interesting turn when Park Jimin, your step brother’s best friend, barges into your room asking for directions around your parents’ new home, dripping in the same charm and allure you remember from all those years ago, still willing to teach you a few things.
⤷ lust for life masterlist
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pairing — stepbro’s best friend!jimin x reader
genre/rating — R | smut, fluff, slight angst, fwb2l
word count — 7.4K
play — lust for life by lana del rey, the weeknd
warnings/tags — summer holiday, friends with benefits, rich kids au, college au, strong language, small age gap, sorta weird family dynamics, inexperienced!reader, flirty jimin, he has a filthy mouth, blond jimin, sexual discovery, corruption kink, loss of innocence kinda, insecurities, virgin!reader but she’s a secret freak lol, bickering, her fave color is pink, vaping, teasinggg, mouth fetish?, slight coercion, fifty shades mention, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, mentions of masturbation, explicit smut — food play, first kiss, dirty talk, hair pulling, tongue sucking, biting, oral (f), multiple orgasms, grinding, cum eating, overstimulation, cum on stomach
note: SHDJSJ finally !! i hope you guys enjoy this jimin 🫦 he’s honestly straight out of my dreams 😩
italics are y/n’s thoughts
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It’s the first night of summer and you’re alone.
Well, not really, if you count the fake excitement and curt greetings shared by the sea of sybarites, holding a metaphorical knife behind the other’s back even as they exchange somewhat fond smiles – you’re not alone.
Sat at the scarcely populated area of the courtyard, observing your mother as she hops from table to table, ensuring that her guests are comfortable and entertained through the night. Of course, you don’t mind sharing a table with the oldies since no one would bother to approach their table and you’d have some reprieve from your mother’s punitive stare, urging you to ‘behave like a host and entertain.’ But you’d much rather listen to Mr. Jon’s tall tales for the eighteenth time than entertain a bunch of backstabbing idiots.
Lips pressed to the edge of glass, you drink up the last drops of champagne, glad that you found this spot, otherwise you’d be forced to engage in conversation with people your age and that’s an experience you’ve been dreading since the words ‘housewarming party’ left your mother’s lips. You knew that little is something she can never do, so when you saw the setup, amazed that your own backyard was transformed into an 18th century ball setup, only with seventeen tables lining the edges for the guests to dine, you weren’t surprised.
Although it isn’t entirely a terrible night. You spot a few cuties but don’t look more than twice because if they’re here, attending your parents’ housewarming party – an excuse to brag about their new mansion and the yard and everything else – they’re guaranteed to be insufferable snobs.
If Farah had decided not to go on that trip to Germany with her parents, you wouldn’t be alone, probably getting up to shit in your room or finishing up the chocolate-dipped strawberries.
That reminds you…you straighten your posture to get a better look at the snack table, cursing when you accidentally make eye contact with your mother. She excuses herself from her table, charging toward you like a bull with its eyes set on the blaring red target.
The target being you…grabbing another glass of champagne to busy yourself but it’s too late.
“Good evening,” she’s speaking with that customer service voice, the one you hate, directed at the other guests seated at the table which is no longer your safe space. “___.”
You spin around, feigning innocence, “hmm?”
She hooks her hand around your elbow, stiletto-shaped nails digging into your flesh as she drags you from the table to the side, speaking through gritted teeth.
“What do you think our guests would say? Doc’s daughter can’t entertain—”
“Technically,” you yank out of her grip, sneakily pulling her to the snack table, “I’m not Doc’s daughter, you’re Doc’s wife.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing with annoyance, “not this tonight. Grow up, ___.”
You fold your arms, tapping the skin she had just bruised with her talons, “I’ll grow up when you stop treating me like a child, Mum. I don’t see you tailing around Doc and—”
She knows you’re talking about your stepbrother Doc this time and not her husband Doc, but she still dismisses your statement and places a tender hand on your lower back.
“Come, just walk with me for a bit and then I’ll let you go. Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight? I saw a few eyes on you when you walked in.”
You hook your arm in hers, a bored eyeroll accompanying your words, “I didn’t, was too busy wondering why you invited Mr. Kim and his wife when he literally threw you under the bu—”
A shout of your mother’s name has her rooting you to one spot, taking you with her as she spins around to flash a smile to none other than—
“Mr. Kim!”
She leans forward to accept Mr. Kim’s wife’s air kisses, eyes falling on you once she’s done showering them with her half-hearted praise. They’re both dripping in jewellery, teeth as white as the pearls on her neck.
“This is my daughter, ___.”
He has the same eyes as his son, it’s a shame they don’t hold the same emotion, all you see is malice behind his. They tip their heads in your direction, tight-lipped smiles in place as their gazes drift from your feet to your face.
“It’s lovely to finally meet you,” he beams, tucking his hand in his suit pants pocket, “we’ve only heard wonderful things about you.”
You scoff. Wish I could say the same for you.
That earns you a painful jab in the ribs from your mother, “of course, it’s fantastic that she and Namjoon have grown so close, no? Since they will probably graduate together and join the family business…”
You’re aware that your mother is just fishing them for information, wondering if Namjoon would join their business after he graduates like you since that’s pretty much been the plan for you…from the day you took your first breath.
“Ah,” Mr. Kim chuckles, the sound a little familiar to you, “I would have to consult with him first and get back to you on that, since he changes his mind every few days.”
It isn’t long before your mother gets distracted by another family of leeches you’re surprised to see at the party, enduring awkward introductions and her justification as to why you’re not married yet at the ripe age of twenty-three.
“She’s grown to be a beautiful young woman,” Mrs. Park compliments, taking a lock of your hair between her fingers.
Your mother blushes as if the praise was directed at her, “she has,” her eyes skate behind the friendly couple, a question on her lips.
Mr. Park nods to himself, “Jimin should be around here somewhere. Must be with Doc.”
Very poorly, you hide the feeling of excitement behind a yawn, enthusiasm for this night to be over diminishing now that you know –  Jimin is here…Park Jimin, your brother’s best friend who you haven’t seen since your sixteenth birthday.
God, what does he look like now? Is he still close with your brother? How will he react when he sees you? Will you even get to see him?
It’s funny how over the years, you even forgot about the possibility of him returning someday with your brother. And now you’re starting to hate this night a little less.
Somehow you manage to slip away, only to bump into another blood-sucking Kim.
“Wow, what a surprise to see you here.”
You groan, about to turn around but decide against it since your mother has already noticed your absence.
Seokjin rounds the drinks table, nudging into your shoulder with the side of his arm, thick navy-blue suit tailored perfectly to his lithe frame.
He grabs a bottle of beer, dusting of the shards of ice with the side of his hand while you’re scanning the table, feeling his stare burn into the side of his face. Despite knowing that you enjoy his brother’s company far better than his, he sticks around, irritating you with his ridiculously perfect face.
“Where’s your husband?”
You sigh deeply, waving your very empty ring finger in front of his face.
“That’s funny, shouldn’t you be married?”
“Shouldn’t you be writing your will?”
He laughs, shoulders shaking with the action and by the way he bares his teeth, you know he’s hardly offended by your statement, not as offended as you that is. You don’t believe that he’s been out of the country for so long that he didn’t have a chat with his brother. Your best friend would’ve definitely informed his brother had there been a wedding.
He’s doing it to annoy you.
“Why didn’t Namjoon come tonight?”
“He stayed in to study,” Seokjin sniggers, raising a long finger in your direction, “that’s why I’m surprised to see you out tonight, shouldn’t you be studying too?”
Ignoring his question, you tread a bit to the right, hoping he gets the hint that the conversation is over. Thankfully, the snacks table is only a few feet away from the drinks table, so you get your share of chocolate-dripped strawberries and some fresh cream on a plate, ready to make your sly escape but even with the clamour behind you – you still hear the crunch of grass behind you.
“Where’s Doc, your brother? Didn’t see him around tonight.”
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask his PA?”
Seokjin’s eyes widen, “he got a PA now? Damn.”
You level him with a frustrated stare, “I was being sarcastic.”
He grins, “I know.”
Dashing past you, you nearly drop your plate of strawberries and cream as he bumps into your shoulder, balancing several bottles of beer in his arms, disappearing into the crowd.
“Well, if you see him let him know I was looking for him!
Muttering to yourself, you decide to take the staircase around the pool into the house, breathing a heavy sigh of relief once you’re inside since your mother wouldn’t want to leave her guests out alone to look for you inside. But your relief is replaced with the same tension from earlier when you spot Julian and the rest of your brother’s friends barging in through the backdoor, the lounge echoing with their whoops and hollers.
As swift as you can be, you make a run for the staircase, yelping when you’re caught by an arm around your neck.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Mum’s looking for you,” you grit, wriggling out of his hold, “I think I’ve done my fair share of socialising for tonight. It’s your turn now.”
He plucks a strawberry from your plate, ignoring your protests as he lets you go, flinging his blazer over his shoulder.
“She’s gonna come looking for you,” he warns, blocking your path up the stairs.
“That’s my problem, just keep your mouth shut and she won’t know where to look.”
He tsks, gesturing for his friends to follow him up the staircase. You gasp, annoyed that he’s not at the party when you had to hear a lecture before it even started. He doesn’t even seem the slightest bit worried.
To your horror, Julian waves a baggie in front of your face, “wanna join?”
“What the f—Doc? Seriously?”
He scratches the back of his head, holding his room door open for his friends while you’re left to stare at his hooligan friends stupidly as they rush into his room.
“Yeah,” he clicks his tongue, not expressing even a bit of sorrow, “might wanna keep your balcony door closed tonight.”
With that, he shuts the door behind him, leaving you to, once again, curse the fact that even though your parents just bought this twenty-five-bedroom, fifteen-bathroom, pool, garage, etcetera, mansion, you still have to compromise like you always have since you were six years old. Doc’s room is right next to yours, and your rooms have an adjoining balcony, so if they’re going to smoke it up all night – the smell is something you can’t avoid, no matter how tight you lock the doors and windows.
So, the first thing you do when you enter your room is lock the door behind you, the balcony door, crank up the heat since it’s a bit chilly in your room and switch on your LED lights. Unfortunately, you’d have to find a way to get comfortable in your velvet dress and a full-face of makeup since it’s still early in the night and you’d probably have to see the guests off once everything is over.
Leaning back against your fluffy, pink cushions, you pull out the book you were reading from under the covers, bottom lip caught between your teeth at the sight of the cover art – the image alone gets you all hot. With eager fingers, you pinch the bookmark and find the exact paragraph where you left off earlier tonight, grinning to yourself.
Wait.
Quickly switching on your speaker, you link it up to your phone and dial up one of your reading playlists, munching on a sweet strawberry. And resumed reading…
I shivered as he trailed a hand up my thigh, inhaling a sharp breath, his eyes holding mine.
“Tell me to stop,” Eddie began, voice as cautious as the hand lingering near my womanhood, “and I will.”
But I said nothing, words failing me as he dared to go higher, and higher, brushing the frills of my underwear and when the heat was too much for me to take, I clamped my thighs shut.
Keeping his hand there too.
His blue eyes sparkled, leaning forward on the table as his thumb brushed my cheek with the faintest of touches.
“If you want me to stop, you would need to let my hands free.”
“I…”
My lips hung open, trembling as I enjoyed the heat his rough, calloused hands brought to my skin. So foreign, yet so familiar.
“I don’t want to let you go.”
With my confession, I spread my legs apart, head falling back as he finally, finally pressed into my sweet petals with the pad of his thumb. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, and I wish he would quench my thirst with that very same tongue. Aid the dryness of my mouth. It’s a feeling I miss, deeply.
He watches with intense lust, my sweetness seeping through the fabric of my underwear, drawing me closer with slow, yet precise, movements of his thumb.
“Did you miss me? Touching you like this?”
I grip the seat of my chair, my feet kicking forward to meet the shiny points of his shoes under the table.
“Oh, I did,” I moan so loudly, “I missed it very much.”
The grunt he lets out awakens something carnal within me. I spread my legs further, feeling his fingers dip underneath the very material keeping him from breaking me. A mere graze and—
KNOCK KNOCK
You jolt upright, cursing to the walls, “who is it?!”
KNOCK KNOCK
“Oh for fuck’s sake—” shoving your book back under the covers, you spring up from the bed and stomp over to the door “—Doc, if you—”
“Oh, hi.”
The man you see waiting on the other side of your room door is a face you never expected to see…for a while now. You stand stock still, fingers gripping the door handle while he purses his lips, eyeing you up and down.
“Jimin.”
He tips his chin up, eyes disappearing into slits, “___, almost didn’t recognize you.”
A compliment. Since you despise your past self.
“You too,” you admit, taking in his sandy blond hair slicked back, dressed in a military blazer with gold detailing, but the same angled jaw and naughty eyes to match.
He places his hand on the doorframe, crossing one ankle over the other as he looms over your anxious figure, peeking inside your room. You swallow, breathing in his citrussy, cottony scent, another thing that hasn’t changed along with his silver rings and jewellery.
“Was looking for the restroom.”
“You can use mine,” you blurt, stepping aside immediately for him to enter the haven that is your room. You realize that none of your friends have seen your new room yet, and it’s quite ironic that Park Jimin is the first to step in and use your bathroom.
He surveys every corner of your room with inquisitive eyes and you’re wondering if he shares your thoughts.
The first time you moved into your old house, when you turned fourteen, Jimin was the first to see your room, since he came over to play video games with your brother, but this time you’re adults – and you shouldn’t be feeling this way all over again.
Why does it seem so personal to have him in your room? So intimate? Because he’s the only guy who’s ever been in your room? The only guy that counts…
“Uh…”
“Oh, there—” you point to the door near your cupboards, watching him disappear into the bathroom before you flop down on your bed and turn down the music.
There are literally more than ten bathrooms in this house – but he just happened to knock on your room door before he found one…Weird.
But you don’t want to seem weird either, even though you have countless questions for him, so you return to your position in bed, and spend some time on social media. Ensuring that the book is hidden under your covers.
Several minutes pass and he exits the bathroom, you’re covering your face with your phone, unsure of what to say and awaiting the sound of the door closing so you can react to seeing Park Jimin after nearly eight years…But the sound never comes, instead you feel a dip by the foot of your bed, clutching your phone to your chest at the sight of Jimin lounging there, blazer hanging off your desk chair.
He throws you a slow, appraising smirk.
“Err…”
Unbothered, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, now laying down fully. You shift uncomfortably, hoping to get his attention, but he doesn’t stir.
From afar, one would say that this shouldn’t annoy you – but it does. It does annoy you. Because you haven’t seen this man for eight years. Eight years no contact. And if you had a fairly good friendship in the past, all that faded away with time and space and separation. You also can’t just relax since he’d definitely have something to say about your reading choice…
“Are you waiting for…Doc?”
He lifts his head briefly, blinks twice, then goes back to typing on his phone.
“Nope.”
“Okay…”
Two minutes seem to pass with you trying to figure out what he’s still doing in your room and how to ask him that, politely.
While figuring that out, along with his distraction, you take the time to drink in every inch of his face. And it’s like he hasn’t aged a bit. With the pink LEDs on him, he looks…ethereal. His nose still has that distinct slope, his sharp eyes, thick eyebrows, perfectly sculped jaw and cheekbones and his lips…Oh God his lips…Sixteen-year-old you is squealing right now.
You know it.
She’s ecstatic to have Park Jimin just casually hanging out with her in her room, listening to her music, sitting on her bed, his chest touching your feet under the blanket as he rests his head on his fist, held up by his elbow.
You’re far from relaxation with him around…Quite the opposite, really.
He takes out something from his pocket and brings it up to his lips. You yelp, acting on impulse as you grab it from his hands.
“You can’t vape in here!”
Genuine confusion settles on his face, eyebrows furrowed, “why not? Doubt it would set off the smoke alarm.”
“No,” you sigh, holding it back when he tries to reach for it, “I don’t allow smoking in my room, if you wanna smoke—” you gesture to the balcony “—go outside.”
His mouth quirks to the side, “it’s too cold out there. Plus, it’s cherry flavor…your favorite.”
You feel your cheeks heat up.
Clearing your throat, you toss the vape in his lap, shooting him a warning glare before he finally decides to set it back inside his pocket. He goes back to typing on his phone, head hanging off the edge of the bed.
“You…What are you doing here? I thought you just wanted to use the restroom?”
He shrugs, “yeah, but it’s better in here.”
Even if you are flattered by those words, still, that’s not a valid explanation since he’s invading your alone time.
“Yeah, but shouldn’t you be hanging out with…Doc, Julian and them? How long has it been since you saw the rest of the guys?”
He tilts his head to the side, lips curled in a smirk, “as long as it’s been since I saw you.”
It’s a little too hot in here…You reach for the remote to turn down the heating, head snapping in his direction when you hear him chuckle. He sits up on his elbows, head cocked to the side while your back is pressing into the headboard, avoiding his discerning stare.
“You know you haven’t changed a bit.”
Offended. Because you know you’ve changed. No more in your awkward teenage years. His last impression of you needs to be forgotten.
“I have.”
He clicks his tongue, running his fingers through his hair which is a habit he seems to have kept.
“Nah.”
“I have,” you challenge, annoyance spiking with his ignorant comment, “I haven’t seen you in eight years. It’s been eight years, of course I changed, not sure about you though.”
His eyebrows shoot up, “so you’ve been keeping count?”
You splutter, quickly finding your words again when he begins to laugh.
“It’s not that hard to count how many years it’s been since my sixteenth birthday, the day you left.”
“Ah, right,” he snorts, now crossing his legs in front of him as he faces you, “so it’s almost eight years since your birthday isn’t over yet.”
He remembers your birthday.
“Right.”
“Hmm.”
Even if Playboy Carti fills the silence, you’re still thinking of something else to say. While he stares you down with the same scrutinizing stare from earlier.
“Sooo…your dad said you plan on doing your practicals next year?”
His gaze shifts to your pink comforter, fiddling with his rings, “yeah, his plans. And you?”
“Graduating this year,” you smile, hands slipping under the blanket, “finally.”
“And Doc is still Doc,” he laughs, rolling onto his side.
“Yeah,” you giggle, “still a total…idiot.”
“Just with the official Doctor title now.”
“Yeah…”
Your gaze flickers up to his face, cheeks burning even hotter when you find his eyes skating up and down your figure, lingering on your thighs that peek out from under the skirt of your dress.
One thing he can’t deny – your body changed too. You’re no longer the little girl he can push around, the one who would cry over a minor bruise when he would be too rough with you. You’re a woman now.
“Doc must have his guns locked and loaded,” he laughs, eyes set on yours.
Your eyebrows pinch together, “hm?”
“I mean, there must be tons of guys after his sister now, so he’d have to be prepared.”
That makes you laugh out loud, so loud the music fades out for a second before you come back to your senses. Yes, you do get catcalled here and there, but once you open your mouth it’s over. Because no man wants a woman with strong opinions, right? – Your mother’s words.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” you giggle, wiping away a stray tear, “nothing.”
“Is it funny that I think you’re pretty and there’s probably plenty of guys after you?”
You swallow, finding sincerity in his eyes. To be called pretty…by Jimin? The guy you had a crush on since you were ten years old?
He holds up his arms defensively, “I’m just saying, your boyfriend must be on guard.”
And he thinks you have a boyfriend…Wow. He overestimates you.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you say quickly, seeing him suck his lower lip into his mouth as he nods.
“Hmm, so what do you do with your days?”
“Study…read…hang out with friends,” you shrug, “pretty boring stuff since my days are packed. But I’m hoping this summer is fun.”
He leans forward, “it will be fun, since I’m around.”
“Really?! I mean—” you clear your throat “—you’re staying over for the summer?”
“Yep,” he pops the ‘p,’ scooting up on the bed and yanking the covers back, “it’s so col—”
Your eyes bulge out of your skull. Shit.
He holds up ‘The Guard’s Arrow,’ wearing a shit-eating grin, “this is what you read, huh?”
Surging forward, you try to get it out of his hands, heart pounding in your chest. But it’s far too late, the cover art itself just gave your deepest, darkest secret away. You look on with sorrowful eyes, hoping he wouldn’t spill your secret. But it’s far worse that he, himself, knows that what you spend your time reading are dirty novels. Feeding your desires in the form of words in the meantime…
Flipping the book over, he reads the summary at the back while the artwork of fingers dipping inside a very wet rose and stems to depict spread legs stare at you. You watch as a colorful display of emotions flash across his entertained features before he finally sets the book down and dares to speak.
“So you enjoy reading…erotic novels?”
You bury your face in a nearby plushie, groaning into the fluffy material.
“Shit, I’m sorry, okay?” He yells, “I just find it…fascinating.”
“Fascinating?” You squeak, bordering on tears, “how is it fascinating?”
He holds the book close to his face, “is this supposed to be a—”
Yanking the book out of his hands, you fling it under your bed, “I think you should go now.”
“Wait,” he laughs, grabbing your knee insistently, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I watched all three of the Fifty Shades movies, did you?”
“I read the books and they weren’t even that goo—”
You clamp your mouth shut, seeing his eyes shimmer with newfound interest.
“So, you’re actually a really…dirty girl if you think Fifty Shades wasn’t good.”
“I—” A shiver runs down your spine hearing him call you ‘dirty,’ “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean then?”
His eyebrows lift, and you know that the more you speak, the deeper hole you’ll dig for yourself.
“Just—” you screw your eyes shut, hands clasped together, “don’t tell anyone. Please. Don’t tell Doc.”
He presses a hand over his heart, rings glinting in the hot pink lighting, “of course I won’t. Haven’t I kept secrets for you before?”
You chew on your bottom lip, nodding coyly at the mention of other secrets you share but won’t mention.
“Yeah, so my lips are sealed,” he ensures, both hands splayed across your bare knees now, “but I just wanna know…isn’t it boring to read? When the real thing is out there?”
You suck in a sharp breath, “I love reading, and I prefer to conjure up the images myself rather than watch people bang it out on the screen with no passion.”
He grins, a short laugh leaving his lips, “I wasn’t talking about porn.”
“Oh? Then what are you talking about?”
As if it couldn’t go any higher, his eyebrows raise up to his hairline, “I said the real thing…As in you know? Real sex? Hooking up with someone?”
It’s difficult for you to hold eye contact at this point, stuttering through your words while he giggles and laughs at your flustered reaction.
“Told you,” he chuckles, pinching your cheek softly, “you haven’t changed a bit.”
You might know what he’s talking about this time, and you can’t argue with that.
Twenty-three years old – and you haven’t been kissed yet. Haven’t experienced any form of intimacy except that one time you hugged that one guy after class when he was moving to another country, it felt intimate but it may not count since you were just friends.
That hasn’t changed since the last time you saw Jimin and he knows it. You can tell by the way he’s looking at you now, but that gaze itself, has changed. You would hate the way he looked at you, just his best friends annoying, little sister.
But now…it’s different. More searching, inquisitive, and lustful.
It makes your heart skip a beat.
“So you read these books to fill that void?”
“I guess so,” you mumble into your shoulder, “is it even considered a void?”
“It depends,” he hums, moving back as he examines your face, “do you feel like it’s something you need?”
“What? Sex?”
He nods, eyes serious and clinical this time, “yeah.”
“I don’t know…”
“Do you find yourself wanting it sometimes?”
“I can’t want something I never experienced,” you breathe, wondering if it’s the champagne that has you so loose-lipped.
“Good point…then, do you find yourself wanting more? For example, when you’re kissing someone, do you wish you could take it further?”
You toy with the strings holding up your dress, “kissing?”
“Yeah.”
“I…” You cover your face with your hands, “this is so embarrassing!”
He pries your hands away from your face, voice as soothing as his gaze, “it’s just me! Jimin! Remember? Even if we haven’t seen each other in a while, it’s still us!”
Swallowing thickly, you smile, sounding out the words in your head before finally breaking it to him.
“I’ve never…kissed anyone before.”
Somehow, his eyes go blank and for once, you can’t read him, gaze drifting from his eyes to his mouth for any indication as to how he’s feeling.
“Jimin?”
“You’ve…never been kissed before?” He says robotically, as if the idea is so alien to him which has you shrinking in on yourself.
“I know, okay!”
“Why?”
You narrow your eyes at him, “why? What do you mean ‘why’?”
“I mean why didn’t you kiss anyone before? I’m sure there were plenty of opportunities for you.”
There he goes again.
“I just haven’t found anyone worth kissing yet! And all the guys on campus suck! Doc’s friends suck! Plus, I don’t really go out much which is entirely my fault and I know if I do I’d meet someone and I’d be down to you know…get down and dirty with them. It’s not like I’m saving myself for the one or anything…I just don’t go out of my way to get it and roll with the universe, and it seems like the universe doesn’t want me to lose my virginity anytime soon so like I said, I’m just gonna roll with whatever the universe throws me…”
He blinks.
You realize that you rambled.
“Sorry for rambling but I just…hope you understand.”
“You know you’re cute when you ramble.”
He’s a lot closer than you last remembered, his breath like hot puffs on your cheeks. It also doesn’t help that his lips gets glossy as his tongue darts out. You’re leaning back on your palms as he moves closer and closer, stomach twisting with want.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Mhm.”
“Do you—” he takes his lower lip between his teeth, whispering “—do you touch yourself?”
Everyone masturbates, right? It’s normal. Why should you lie?
“Yes.”
Your voice sounds more like a squeak, heart beating a thunderous rhythm. He seems pleased by your answer, cheeks puffing up.
“How?”
“W-What?”
His thumb brushes your cheek and your freeze, eyes fluttering shut with the simple yet heart-staggering touch. It makes you wonder what else he could make you feel…
“How do you like to touch yourself?”
“With my hand…”
He grins, “I know, but how? Do you lay on your back, your stomach…?”
“Oh,” you giggle, head pressing into the pillow behind you, “on my back…when I use my fingers but sometimes I…”
“Sometimes?”
You shut your eyes as you say the next few words out of diffidence.
“Sometimes I like to grind on my…pillow.”
“I bet you do,” he growls, his voice lowering to an octave you never heard before, nearly unrecognizable. And you find it incredibly sexy. “I bet that clit gets all puffy and swollen and you cum all over your pillow hm?”
Your pussy clenches, arousal brewing in your lower abdomen. And you want more.
“Mhm, I’m really sensitive.”
“Yeah? Can I ask you something else?”
“Yes.”
“Would you let me kiss you?”
It feels like your ears might be deceiving you, something out of your dreams. Park Jimin asking if he could kiss you? Your first kiss?
His eyes are half-lidded, lips parted as he awaits your answer.
Fuck it.
“Yes.”
Eyes shifting to the side, he hunches over you so you’re laying flat on your back, anticipation building as his chain dangles over your face. God, he’s so hot. He dips into the fresh cream, giving you no warning as he smears the cream across your lips and chin. You whimper with the cool texture settling on your face, waiting with bated breath as he lowers himself onto your trembling frame.
The weight of his body pinning you to the bed is something you never knew you’d enjoy, consuming you with each passing minute. You can’t believe this is happening, something out of a fever dream as his lips kiss your skin.
“Jimin—” you gasp, feeling the first brush of his lips against your chin as he licks up the cream to the corner of your mouth, drawing little pants from your gaping mouth.
He takes your wrist and guides your hand to the front of his shirt, asking you to hold onto him as he covers the other corner of your mouth with his. The feeling of his tongue, so wet and warm, licking off your face has you short-circuiting, and nothing could prepare for when he finally captures you lips with his, so lost in the feel of him that you register the taste of cream and cherries after he pulls away. Pecking your lips softly before angling his head perfectly and taking your lips between his, tongue clashing lewdly as you’re trying to gather your wits and kiss him back. Thinking of everything you’ve read – slipping your fingers into his hair, tilting your head in the opposite direction, giving the same amount of tongue you receive until your lungs burn for air and he’s pulling away, your jaw caught in his hand.
If you thought he sounded different before, then his voice after he catches his breath is something you will never forget.
“Sure you haven’t kissed anyone before?”
You’re at a loss for words, crinkling the front of his shirt in your fist as he covers your mouth with his lips again. His taste so intoxicating, his movements hypnotic and him. Just him. This is probably far better than the way you imagined your first kiss. He’s pressing into you, kicking your legs apart, heat building right there – but there’s no pressure. It throbs, and you moan as his tongue flicks against the roof of your mouth.
You’re trying to keep your sounds down, but you can’t help but moan, lips burning as he tugs on them with his teeth and then he’s reaching over to turn the music up, tugging at the strings on the front of your dress.
Subconsciously, you grab his hands, prompting him to move away.
“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, “I should ask first.”
But the top of your dress is already loose, and your plain pink bra with a bow right in the middle is peeking out. He takes it all in with greedy eyes, silently asking permission as he buries his head in the crook of your neck and his mouth on your pulse point – might be the second-best thing you’ve felt tonight.
If you couldn’t help your moans before, now you’re gasping for air, shivering as he trails wetly down the slope of your neck to suckle on your collarbones, nipping at the meat spilling from your bra.
“That okay?”
“Yes,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut when he peppers kisses across your chest and then his hands are slipping up your dress, bending your right leg at the knee then his lips are there, kissing up your inner thighs while you watch with blood rushing through your veins at four times the normal speed, body heating up when he smirks upon seeing your matching pink panties.
“You smell as sweet as the cream,” he groans, head disappearing under your dress, “bet your cream tastes even better.”
His knuckle drags up and down your clothed clit and all you can think of is how terrified but turned on you are to have someone else give you pleasure, vibrating when his hot breath hits your folds as he pushes your panties to the side.
Thank God you waxed this morning. Who would’ve thought that Park Jimin would return and ask if he can kiss you leading up to his head buried between your thighs? Certainly not you.
The breath gets knocked out of your lungs once you feel his hot tongue against your folds, back arching as he holds open your pussy with his fingers and delivers several broad stripes up your cunt, not giving you time to breathe. A thousand times better than your fingers.
“Jimin,” you moan, reaching down you grab his hair in both your hands, anchoring yourself to the bed as he continues to assault your pulsating clit, sighing when he teases the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue earning a whimper from your swollen lips.
He moans into your pussy, the vibrations shooting straight through you to have you fisting the sheets in one hand and keeping his head in place with the other. You keen as he grabs two handfuls of your ass and rocks you against his face, the thought alone of his tongue pressed into your dripping pussy has sparks flying up the length of your body, crying out his name as you feel the cool metal of his rings press into your heated flush before you’re seeing those same sparks behind your eyelids.
Cumming on his tongue with sharp spasms, mouth hanging open.
Slurping up your juices with loud squelches, you ride out your high by grinding on his pink tongue, sweat beading across your forehead.
“Fuck, how did that feel?”
You laugh breathlessly, “that felt…amazing.”
His hair is a mess, falling on his forehead which has him looking even sexier to you. In a burst of confidence, you wrap your arms around his neck and slot your lips into his, whining when he tugs on your lip with his teeth.
“Wanna take this further?” He husks, nosing up the column of your throat and that’s when you feel it – his cock, what you think is his cock, pressing into your thigh.
“How…further?”
His tongue traces the shell of your ear, goosebumps erupt on your skin with the action which he is quick to smooth away with his plump lips.
“Just the tip? I know it’s your first time,” he chuckles darkly, the sound inebriating to your ears, “let me stick in the tip only, please.”
You mewl as he rolls his hips into yours, already unzipping his pants. When he pulls out his cock – sorrel brown, thick, veiny and stick at the tip – you make up your mind. Somehow you want to do everything with him, what if this is your only chance.
“Just the tip, okay? You’ll be a good girl for me? Fuck, letting me have all your firsts huh?”
“Fuck, Jimin.” Your head tilts back, feeling him press his hot and heavy cock into your clit, tapping the tip there before rolling his hips back and forth in a slow drag, spreading your wet folds with his cock. “Yes.”
“Just the tip, baby, Oh fuck, you’re so tight.”
Gritting your teeth, you feel the bulbous head of his cock breach your walls, whimpering when he pulls out and pushes in the tip over and over again till you’re a moaning mess under him once again. The fabric of pants grazes your thighs, the collar of his shirt kissing your neck as his tongue rolls into your mouth, swallowing up your moans before he begins to rock at a rapid pace. Cock sliding up and down your folds before he sets the tip on your clit.
“So fucking hot,” he grunts, lips dragging into a snarl as he tosses his head back and kneels between your legs. You watch as he shivers and trembles, the veins in his forearms prominent as he fucks into his fist before he collapses onto you again, the shaft of his cock grinding into your clit which has your core tightening, clit even more sensitive from your previous orgasm.
Planting your feet on the mattress, you grind into him, feeling his cock twitch, “fuck your cock feels so good rubbing on my pussy.”
“Shit, gonna cum all over this wet cunt. Fuuuuck.”
His eyebrows furrow, whimpering into your mouth as you feel hot liquid spread across your belly with an angelic moan of your name, setting off your second high of the night as his cock stays flush against your pussy, grinding up into him to get out the most of that numbing orgasm.
He meets your gaze and you both burst into a fit of giggles, still catching your breath, but laughing it off as you recover from what just happened. With a light hand, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear,
His cheeks are flushed, lips a bright red and you wonder if you look as pretty as him, bathed in that post-orgasmic glow you read about.
“I never came that hard before,” he snorts, covering his eyes with his arm.
You blink, about to move closer to him when you feel his cum drying on your stomach. Grimacing, you sit upright and make your way to the bathroom, doing whatever you can to clean up the mess.
Some got on your dress but oh well, you’re going to shower in a bit anyway.
He’s sat up on your bed when you return, handing you his phone.
“You can…put in your number. I have a new number and…if I ask Doc for your number he’ll probably take the chance to play some stupid prank on me.” He gives you that same boyish chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.
Chuckling lightly, you enter your digits and hand him back his phone, ignoring the weird feeling settling in your stomach at the thought that he wanted your number.
“You should uh—” you rub your arm, nodding toward the bathroom “—you should clean up.”
He cards his fingers through his hair, “yea—”
KNOCK KNOCK
“MUM’S CALLING! COME DOWNSTAIRS NOW! OPEN UP!”
With unspoken words, you and Jimin seem to share the same panic, rushing to fix your appearance while he cleans himself up and you’re still panicking. Panicking because your brother wouldn’t like the idea of…whatever happened a few moments ago.
What just happened a few moments ago?
Oh my God, you hooked up with Jimin? And not only that you had a bunch of your firsts with him? Holy crap.
“Hey, hey, how do I look? Good? Okay?” Jimin tilts his head from side to side, holding up his thumbs and completely oblivious to the internal battle you’re facing right now.
“OPEN UP!”
Jimin is about to unlock the door when you grab his arm, the sudden closeness too much for you. You take a step back, chest heaving.
“We can’t just open the door! You need to hide!”
Jimin shrugs, “it’s fine, I’ll just say I was using your toilet.”
“No,” you whisper-shout, “he’ll definitely know something is up!”
“No, he won’t,” he sniggers, grabbing you by the shoulders, “it’s totally fine. We used to hang out before.”
“Yeah,” you deadpan, “when we were kids. We’re adults now.”
“I don’t see the difference.”
Of course he doesn’t. Doc is your brother. Step-brother. You’d always have to face his unwarranted wrath.
“Exactly,” Jimin begins, eyebrow jumping, “you’re literally an adult now, you’re free to make your own decisions and fuck whoever you want.”
He spins around but you grab his hand, pleading with him.
“You cannot tell Doc.”
He sighs, “okay, I won’t.”
“I WILL BREAK DOWN THIS DOOR IF—”
The door flies open to reveal Doc and his gang waiting, their eyes zeroing in on Jimin who exits your room as cool as a cucumber.
“What the fuck were you doing in there?”
Locking your door behind you, you sprint passed them, hoping to dodge their confused stares and Doc’s endless questions.
“I needed to use the bathroom,” Jimin chuckles, “so ___ let me.”
Doc’s eyes narrow, catching Jimin under his bulky arm, “you do know we have like a thousand bathrooms in this house.”
“I know.”
The passage lights are bright and harsh compared to the lighting in your room. As if exposing you to the reality of the situation. You don’t want to think about it again, but you have no other choice when he’s right there. Speeding ahead of you with the rest of the guys while one thought remains.
A nagging thought.
Arm around your brother’s shoulders, Jimin tilts his head to shoot you a wink, a wink that’s reminiscent of the one he gave you earlier. The throb between your legs returns along with that incessant thought.
You want more. From him.
 It’s gonna be a long summer…
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AHH okay this was just the beginning for them !! i hope you guys enjoyed this <3 please send in feedback, I would love to hear what you think !! ✉️
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kingofbodyrolls · 7 months
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39,5°C (Fever) (m) | pjm
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Thank you to everybody who follows, either for my own fics or my recs - it's much appreciated and means so much to me 🥹 So, for my 100th follower milestone, I give you this; I hope you like it 💜
Pairing: Jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”)
Genre/AU: Established relationship, non idol!au, pwp, smut, fluff if you squint
Rating: mature/explicit/R18
Word count: 6,2K
Summary: When you get sick you want three things; rest all day, eat your comfort food and have as many orgasms as you can.
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tags: Explicit smut in the form of, masturbation (female), fingering, nipple sucking/play, unprotected penetration (they are in an established relationship, but please use protection irl), some cock warming, a lot of orgasms, fucking while sick, OC is so fucking needy and desperate and Jimin just wants to please her.
This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.
Main masterlist. Cross-posted to Ao3.
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Morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues as you slowly roused from sleep. 
Blinking away the remnants of dreams, you stretched languidly, only to realize that the warmth next to you, Jimin, was absent. 
Confusion furrowed your brow, a dull ache throbbing at your temples. It was as if your mind was wading through a fog, struggling to piece together the events leading up to this moment.
A damp sensation beneath you snapped your senses awake. 
Panic fluttered in your chest as you registered the wetness on the bed. 
Your skin prickled with discomfort, a blend of clammy sweat and shivers that chased each other up and down your spine. Hot and cold sensations mingled, creating a disorienting dance across your flesh. Your body trembled and you felt a surge of arousal run to your core, a telltale sign of a fever. 
A hand to your forehead confirmed your suspicions - heat radiated from your skin, the feverish touch undeniable. The realization sent a sinking feeling through you, an unwelcome interruption to your routine. 
You contemplated checking your temperature, not just to provide a concrete reason for your absence from work, but also to validate the intensity of what you were experiencing.
With a resigned sigh, you fumbled for the thermometer, its cool surface a stark contrast to your fevered skin. 
As you watched the numbers climb, anxiety held its breath alongside you. 39,5 degrees Celsius glared back, a glaring testament to your body’s turmoil. ‘Yikes’ barely covers the magnitude of this fever, the word echoing like an alarm in your mind.
Reluctantly, you reached for your phone, fingers dancing over the screen to dial your workplace. 
Explaining your condition to your boss felt like admitting defeat, you were rarely sick, a palpable sensation of vulnerability washing over you. The conversation passed in a blur, your voice sounding distant even in your own ears as you negotiated the details of your sick leave.
Once the call ended, you were left with the weight of the day ahead - or rather, the weight of what wouldn’t be. You really love your damn office job. Resignation settled in as you acknowledged that rest was your sole agenda. 
This was no mere inconvenience; it was a mandate from your own body, an uncompromising insistence on self-care.
Your thoughts drift through a dense fog, each one a weighty presence that seems to slow time itself. 
Amidst this mental haze, a singular desire emerges, commanding your attention like a beacon in the darkness; to get off.
When you get sick, you’re out of commission, but Jimin possesses remarkable resilience, bouncing back from ailments with an almost enviable speed. He might slow his pace a tad, yet he’s soon up and running again, his vigor only temporarily dimmed. 
However, your own journey through illness is an entirely different narrative. When illness casts its shadow upon you, it’s as if the world grinds to a halt - a relentless fog that blankets your thoughts and body. 
You only want three things really; rest all day, eat your comfort food and have as many orgasms as you can.
It’s a craving that rises like a tempest, demanding to be acknowledged. 
The desire for intimacy, for the warmth and connection that only your boyfriend can provide, becomes a beacon in the haze of your illness. It’s a need that fluctuates in intensity, an ebb and flow that mirrors the unpredictable nature of your symptoms. 
In a daze, you squeeze your thighs together while dirty fantasies run through your mind.
Determinedly, you set your sights on the first craving: a day of uninterrupted rest. 
As the world outside continues its bustling rhythm, you cocoon yourself in a cocoon of blankets, the soft embrace of your bed a sanctuary from the demands of the day. A season of your cherished TV show flickers on the screen before you, its familiar characters and storylines a comforting companion in this isolated respite. 
Yet, even the most captivating narrative can’t entirely distract from the persistent itch of restlessness. As episodes blur into one another, you find your mind wandering, the confinement of your surroundings reflecting the confines of your own body. 
The hours stretch, each minute an elastic band tugging at your patience.
The promise of comfort food beckons like a siren’s call, and soon, the aromatic allure of pizza fills the room. 
You indulge in its cheesy embrace, the combination of flavors a temporary reprieve from both your physical discomfort and the monotony of your confinement. The first bite is a symphony of sensations - crisp crust giving way to a burst of savory satisfaction, a moment of bliss that lingers on your taste buds. But even indulgence has its limits. 
As the pizza slices dwindle and the ice cream follows suit, the novelty wanes, leaving behind a subtle undertone of longing. You try navigating the vast expanse of social media, but it yields little in the way of fulfillment, each swipe a fleeting encounter with curated lives that only serve to amplify the quiet void within.
Your energy reserves are far too depleted to muster the focus required for anything more substantial.
In time, you discover yourself reclined upon the bed’s embrace, solitary in Jimin’s absence, your eyes are gently shut, a willing surrender to the world’s demands, while the low sensual R&B beats of your beloved ‘dirty hoe’ Spotify playlist weave a cocoon around your senses, cradling you in a symphony of horny melodies on an endless loop. 
You rub your thighs together and get lost in the bliss of the feeling. You’ve got nothing to do. Might as well do yourself.
Your fingers glaze the top of your panties, digging deeper until you reach the spot just over your clit. 
Rubbing circles on your clothed clit, you spread your legs and throw your head back into the bed, already feeling the beginning of an arousal. You can’t help the sweet noises that escape your mouth, as you roll your hips in search of more friction. 
You press harder on your clit, imagining it’s Jimin’s hands instead of yours, knowing that he would be able to make you climax in a matter of minutes. 
Pinching your clit, you let out a high pitched moan as you feel the knot in your stomach forming. 
Images of Jimin flash before your eyes, him kissing you deliciously, fucking you like it was the last time.
Beads of sweat gather along the precipice of your hairline, a glistening testament to the fevered symphony playing out within. 
Each breath you draw is a ragged melody, a reminder of the battle your body wages against the searing heat that courses through you. You set a fast pace, rubbing mindlessly, as you pant for air. 
Almost there, you can feel it coming. 
In frustration, you pinch your clit again and come undone with a scream of Jimin’s name. 
Your body thrashes around the bed, as you come down from your climax. 
Your thoughts wade through a dizzying haze, an intricate labyrinth where clarity is but a fleeting visitor. Meanwhile, your body becomes a canvas of discomfort, a sticky and clammy landscape painted by the relentless brushstrokes of sweat. 
You register an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, and discard your soaked panties to the floor.
Your body remains a furnace, its warmth radiating through every fiber as you continue to draw breath in ragged gasps. Seeking relief, you shift onto your stomach, a desperate attempt to find a position that might offer some respite. 
Your hand gropes beneath the pillow, finding the cool touch of your phone. Fingers trembling slightly, you navigate to Instagram in pursuit of distraction, a temporary escape from the confines of your condition.
Yet, the respite is fleeting, evaporating like mist in the face of a relentless sun. Your desires surge once more, a hunger that refuses to be quelled. The allure of the digital world fades in comparison to the voracious craving that commands your attention, rendering your attempts at diversion feeble and futile.
You surrender to the tempest within, rolling onto your back as your hands traverse the landscape of your fevered body, fingers tracing the contours of your clammy skin. 
They land on your already pebbled nipples, and you give them a hard tug, moaning and rolling your hips mindlessly. 
Jimin's cotton shirt adheres to your skin like a second layer, a tactile reminder of the stickiness that has become an unwelcome companion. 
With a sudden resolve, you sit up, a surge of urgency propelling you as you shed the shirt in a swift motion, the fabric slipping away like the bonds of discomfort being cast aside.
In a matter of seconds, your hands return to your breast, cupping them like Jimin usually does. 
Your fingers run over your nipples again, and you feel a tingle run down your spine. As you tug and pinch your nipples, you imagine it’s Jimin doing it. 
The way he would lick your perked buds, occasionally giving them a light bite has your walls clenching around nothing. 
You moan, thinking about the pleasure Jimin usually delivers to you with his plush and wet tongue. 
One of your hands leaves your breast to travel down to your throbbing naked pussy. 
Spreading your legs, you find your clit and give it a few rubs. 
Your fingers glide easily, as your clit is covered in your earlier orgasm. Your fingers travel down to your folds, opening yourself up more. 
Sticking one of your fingers into your warm cunt is easy with the insane amount of arousal pooled there. 
You groan in pleasure, as you stick another finger into your clenching hole. 
Rolling your hips, you begin to fuck yourself as your other hand is pinching and tugging a nipple. 
Once more, a hazy fog blankets your thoughts, veiling your mental landscape in a disorienting mist. 
In this moment, your deepest wish unfurls - a longing for Jimin’s presence, his soothing touch, the steady rhythm of his breath and the unfaltering warmth of his embrace to tether you amidst the turbulence of your body’s rebellion. 
The feeble attempt you make to alleviate your distress pales in comparison to the soothing magic that Jimin's touch possesses. It's a stark reminder of the chasm between your efforts and his unparalleled comfort. 
Nonetheless, in this interim of absence, your makeshift remedy will have to suffice, bridging the gap between your yearning for relief and the eventual embrace of his return.
You think about Jimin fucking you with his thick cock, stretching your pussy deliciously. 
Hitting your g-spot, and thrusting into you with fervor, while his balls hit your folds. The imagination, a force as potent as it is relentless, takes hold of you with unyielding fervor, reducing the barriers between reality and desire to mere dust. 
In its wake, you sense the foundations of your resolve begin to erode, like cliffs succumbing to the relentless assault of waves. 
Squelching sounds fill the room, as you finger yourself frantically, searching for another release. 
A palpable tension simmers, coiling like a slumbering tempest just beneath the fragile surface of your composure and when the image of Jimin fucking you gets too much, you moan loudly as another orgasm coats your walls. 
Your chest rises and falls in desperate rhythms, each breath a struggle as you labor to coax your body into a state of surrender.
A gnawing sense of insufficiency takes root, an undeniable truth that settles like an ache in the core of your being. 
Compelled to fill this void, you reach for your laptop, your fingers dancing across the keyboard to unearth a video - a cherished artifact of you and Jimin. 
As the footage unfolds before you, you stick your fingers into your already drenched pussy again. 
As the symphony of sounds spills forth, a captivating crescendo that weaves through the air, your gaze becomes ensnared by the screen's luminous embrace, you fuck yourself again, while you rub your clit with your other hand.
“Ah, Y/N, you’re so tight! You’re taking me so well.” Jimin's voice pours forth, a mellifluous cascade that saturates the room, its dulcet tones mingling with the very air you breathe, a sweet intoxication that leaves you hovering on the edge of delirium, rolling your eyes while you search for yet another release. 
You add another finger into your throbbing pussy as the screen shows Jimin fucking you from behind. 
A moan leaves your lips, mixing with squelching sounds from your pussy and the obscene sounds from the laptop.
“This pussy was made for me, ah.” video Jimin says followed with a slap to your ass. 
Your pussy clenches around your fingers. Your clit is throbbing with your fast rubbing on it and you insert another finger into your cunt, finally feeling a small stretch. 
You feel your orgasm approaching rapidly, with the images of your home made porn playing before your hooded eyes unraveling you.
“Fuck! I’m coming!” and then you’re orgasming to the sound and visual of Jimin releasing inside your warm and spent pussy. 
Your body throbs with a weary cadence, each pulse echoing the exhaustion that courses through you, leaving you feeling spent, both physically and emotionally. 
The discomfort intensifies, a relentless reminder of your sticky, sweat-slicked state that clings to you like an unwelcome second skin, refusing to relent. 
You draw in ragged breaths, your lungs yearning for air as you hastily halt the video's playback, the sudden cessation of sound echoing the turbulence within your chest.
Tired, you envelop yourself in the gentle glow of the screen, as you dive into another episode of your treasured TV series. You lay in your bed, naked, with only the covers draping your legs. 
The door’s soft creak heralds Jimin’s return, his presence a soothing balm to the quietude that has wrapped itself around you. 
As his eyes fall upon your prone form nestled within the sheets, his gaze deepens with understanding - silent communication that transcends words. 
Without a syllable spoken, he knows about your illness.
A gentle smile dances at the corners of his lips, a mixture of concern and affection that paints his features. His voice, warm and tender, breaks the silence, the words like a soft caress against your weary senses. 
“How many, baby?” 
The question hangs in the air, laden with a delicate balance of worry and steadfast promise that he’s here to shoulder the burden of your discomfort alongside you.
With the mere entrance of Jimin's presence, a subtle electric current courses down the length of your spine, a tingling sensation that dances between the realms of anticipation and recognition, as you rub your thighs together and bite your lip, “Three.”
A gentle chuckle escapes from his plush lips, a melodic sound that unfurls like a whisper of warmth, as he strides toward the bed and eases down beside you, his presence a soothing balm to your discomfort.
“You know it’s a vital part of my self-care ritual whenever fever pays me a visit,” you protest, your lips pursing in a playful pout that hints at a mixture of defiance and endearing vulnerability.
“Yeah, I know about your fever horniness,” his laughter erupts with a resonant force, a vibrant symphony that reverberates through his entire being, yet his approach is marked by a smirk that dances across his lips, an alluring blend of amusement and intention.
“What do you need, baby?” 
His finger traces a tantalizing path over the sensitive expanse of your ass and thighs, each touch akin to a lightning bolt of sensation that ignites a perilous shiver, sending a cascade of exhilaration down the length of your spine. In its wake, a fresh wave of desire surges, pooling on your pussy.
A gulp tightens your throat, a visible testament to the sudden intensity of the moment, while your breath catches in your chest, a gasp that hangs in the charged air like an unspoken invitation, “Your dick and your tongue.”
“Hmmm, I don’t know,” a playful smirk graces his lips, a mischievous expression that hints at a secret understanding, as his touch traces a tantalizing path along the contours of your waist as he feels his dick throb with want.
“You started without me,” he utters the words in a mock pout, his tone a blend of teasing and longing, as his fingers dip down to your pussy with deliberate intent, trailing a path that ignites a symphony of sensations. 
You raise your hips in search of more of his touch.
“I’m sorry. But I couldn’t wait…” A frustrated whimper escapes your lips, a raw sound that encapsulates the intensity of your desires and the ache for more. 
You just want to get off again.
“I know, baby. You probably did so good by yourself, huh?” 
His gaze drinks in the contours of your naked form, an appreciative hunger that's palpable, causing goosebumps to rise like a symphony across the landscape of your skin.
“Not as good as when you touch me. I need your touch, Jimin.” 
In a voice etched with ragged urgency, you plead, the words a raw testament to the overwhelming desire that courses through you, while your lustful eyes blink rapidly, revealing the depth of your need.
He seizes a generous handful of your ass, an electrifying touch that sends shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your being. In response, you groan, your very essence melting under the mastery of his hands, reduced to pliable putty that he molds with deliberate expertise.
You open your legs invitingly, showing him your glistening pussy, “Won’t you come taste me?”
A teasing flick of his tongue moistens his lips, a gesture loaded with an unspoken promise, as he inches closer to you, his presence a tantalizing magnetism that sends anticipation crackling through the air. 
His form hovers over yours, a suspended moment pregnant with the weight of desire and the thrill of what's to come.
“Since you asked so nicely.” 
In a voice dipped in seductive tones, he murmurs the words, a sultry invitation that hangs in the charged space between you, as he positions himself on his knees. 
The fabric of his shirt yields to his skilled fingers, sliding off his form in a fluid motion that reveals the sculpted contours of his body, each movement a declaration of intent. His bare chest emerges into view, an arresting sight that captures your gaze and holds it captive, a canvas painted with the contours of his sculpted form. 
Your eyes trace the lines of his delicious abs, his ‘Nevermind’ tattoo, a visual feast that leaves you with an insatiable hunger, and your fingers, guided by a magnetic pull, begin to explore his torso with a reverent touch.
He leans in with a calculated grace, his intent clear in the intensity of his gaze, as both of his hands find the curves of your breasts, his palms cupping them with a touch that conveys possession and longing. 
A moan of pleasure escapes your lips, a raw sound that encapsulates the exquisite sensation that courses through you, as his hands remain a source of warmth on your fevered form, a stark contrast that heightens the sensory journey. 
An involuntary surge of sensation propels your body, causing your back to arch with a fervent response, an unspoken invitation for more of his touch, as he begins to roll your nipples. 
He leans his head down, giving a nipple a quick lick before he captures it in his warm mouth. He sucks lightly at first, while he pinches your other nipple.
The melodic cadence of your sounds forms an intoxicating symphony, an improvised composition that resonates in the charged air, while a surge of arousal courses through you, electrifying your senses and heightening the fervor of the moment.
One of Jimin's hands embarks on an exploratory journey down the landscape of your body, a purposeful exploration that leads to your pussy, where his touch transforms into an unyielding grasp, squeezing your clit with a deliberate force that ignites a symphony of pleasure-pain.
You release a crescendo of uninhibited sounds, each one a testament to the exquisite sensitivity that courses through you, a maelstrom of sensations amplified by the presence of your already three orgasms.
His fingers, a skillful symphony of touch, bestow a few tantalizing rubs to your clit, a prelude to the main act that follows. 
With deliberate intent, he slides a finger into the depths of your wet pussy, each movement a rapturous dance that sends shockwaves of pleasure through your every nerve ending.
“So wet,” a chuckle, laced with both amusement and desire, escapes his lips, the room now painted with an intimate soundscape as the squelching echoes through the air. 
His single finger, a masterful conductor of sensations, explores the depths of your being, each thrust a declaration of intent that creates a symphony of pleasure only the two of you share.
He returns to his skilled ministrations sucking on one of your nipples, a sensation that unfurls like a velvet caress, while his other hand continues its purposeful exploration, working to fuck you open with a deliberate determination that merges pleasure with a heady sense of anticipation.
A surge of urgency courses through you, compelling your hips to roll with a fervent rhythm, an instinctive dance that strives to align with his thrust, seeking a nexus where desire and connection intertwine in a symphony of shared pleasure.
He skillfully introduces a second finger into the equation, his touch an intricate dance that navigates the canvas of your pussy with purposeful intent. 
His quest becomes a search for the elusive spot that ignites a cascade of sensations, a treasure trove of pleasure concealed within the intricate pathways of your body.
Your breaths escape in ragged bursts, a symphony of urgency that fills the air, each inhalation a desperate attempt to quench the growing fire within. 
As your chest heaves, you huff for air, the oxygen a lifeline that barely keeps pace with the tumultuous pace of your desires, all while a knot of anticipation tightens in the pit of your stomach, a tangible reminder of the impending climax.
A third finger joins the symphony of sensation, a deliberate intrusion that causes your pussy to clench around him, an involuntary reaction that amplifies the intensity of the moment. 
The palpable tightness he encounters tells him that you're teetering on the precipice of release, a knowledge that fuels his own desire.
With the dexterity born of desire, his free hand embarks on an exploratory journey, seeking out your other breast with a determined touch. 
His fingers dance with a skilled grace, deftly rolling its nipple, each movement a calculated rhythm that weaves an intoxicating tapestry of sensations, a tactile duet that resonates through your being.
“It’s so good, Jimin!” a gasp, unfiltered and primal, escapes your lips, the sound a testament to the exquisite pleasure that courses through you, as you endeavor to arch your back, an instinctual response that seeks to press your body into the electrifying path of his touch.
A low, reverberating hum escapes his lips, a resonant vibration that sends ripples of pleasure through your breast, the intimate connection between his mouth and your body forging a sensory bridge that defies words. 
Meanwhile, his fingers continue their masterful dance, striking your elusive spot with a relentless rhythm that sets your senses ablaze with each deliberate touch.
You feel it coursing through your body like a surge of electric intensity, each nerve ending awakening in a symphony of sensation. 
Your toes curl involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the overwhelming pleasure that radiates from within. 
Your hands seize Jimin's hips with a fervent grip, an anchor in the tempest of ecstasy as you succumb to the cascade of release, a moan escaping your lips like a melody, a reverberating chord that sounds eerily like his name.
You pant, your breath a delirious cadence that echoes the crescendo of sensations that have washed over you. 
Your body basks in the radiant afterglow of a fourth orgasm, a testament to the heights of pleasure scaled throughout the day, each peak and valley etched into your memory like an intricate map of desire.
Jimin's gaze rests upon you, his eyes hooded with a potent blend of desire and satisfaction, a witness to the tableau of your body's unraveling beneath the skilled ministrations of his hands and mouth. 
In this intimate exchange, unspoken understanding flows between you, a language woven from shared pleasure and the unbreakable bond you share. 
The depth of his affection knows no bounds, a love that transcends the ordinary and propels him to the edges of devotion. For you, he's willing to traverse any distance, cross any threshold, and brave any challenge. 
His heart beats in harmony with yours, a melody of adoration that echoes through the moments you share, an unwavering testament to the lengths he'll go to ensure your happiness and well-being.
He rises onto his knees with an irresistible allure, shedding the confines of his pants and boxers in a fluid motion that unveils his already hardened dick. 
The air seems to crackle with anticipation, the atmosphere thickening as his form becomes a portrait of primal need and unabashed vulnerability.
Your tongue darts out, an instinctual gesture that moistens your lips in a silent anticipation that hangs in the charged space between you, a silent agreement forged by desire. 
“Gawd. It’s so beautiful.” 
You say, the words a sultry whisper that hangs in the air like a secret promise, a declaration of intent that sets the stage for what's to come. 
Your hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around his cock with a teasing touch, each stroke a deliberate dance that fuels the fire of desire between you.
Jimin's chuckle, a featherlight sound that dances through the charged atmosphere, becomes an auditory caress that sends shivers down your spine. 
His form hovers over you, a poised predator basking in the thrill of the chase, the air practically crackling with the intensity of his presence.
"What do you crave now, baby?" he murmurs in a voice saturated with a potent blend of desire and longing, a low timbre that wraps around the words like a silken caress, igniting a spark of anticipation in the air.
“I want to be ravished,” your hips engage in a rhythmic dance, a deliberate movement that aligns with the symphony of sensations cascading through you, while the telltale sensation of sweat prickling down your forehead adds a tactile layer to the sensory landscape, a physical manifestation of the fevered desire coursing through your veins.
“I want to cream your dick,” you breathe, the exhalation a fragile bridge between reality and reverie, as the haze of desire blankets your thoughts in a seductive shroud. 
In response, a hiss escapes Jimin's lips, a sound that teeters on the edge of restraint, a symphony of shared yearning that hangs heavy in the charged air.
“I want you to come in my pussy.” You tease, the words a playful invitation that resonates with the promise of shared pleasure, your voice a delicate melody that dances through the charged atmosphere. 
Your hands find purchase on his thighs, fingers squeezing with an artful pressure that ignites a symphony of sensation, a tactile duet that harmonizes with the unspoken desires that course between you.
Jimin's hiss echoes once more, a sound that reverberates like a whispered plea amidst the charged tension, as if his very being is ensnared within a cloud of desire and longing. 
His dick, a pulsating ache that demands attention, throbs with an insistent rhythm, a relentless reminder of the friction and release that his body craves, a symphony of need that courses through his veins.
With a firm resolve that belies the intensity of his desire, he seizes his dick in a purposeful grip, aligning it with your pussy. 
The air seems to hold its breath, a suspended moment pregnant with anticipation, the magnetic pull between your bodies poised to culminate in an explosion of shared ecstasy.
Before he gives in to the tempest of desire that surges between you, a primal force that demands satisfaction, he seizes a pillow with a thoughtfulness that speaks volumes. 
With a gentle nudge, he situates it beneath your head, a gesture that adds a layer of comfort to the impending intimacy, a reminder that amidst the flames of passion, he's attuned to your every need.
Then, in a languid dance that seems to stretch time itself, he eases into you with a deliberate slowness, his cock head parting your folds in a teasing, torturous symphony of sensation. The exquisite friction becomes a dance of pleasure and anticipation, a measured cadence that ignites every nerve ending along the way, as he navigates the delicate balance between fervor and restraint.
His dick glides into you effortlessly, aided by the slickness that envelops him, a liquid promise of pleasure that makes every inch of his entry a journey of shared ecstasy. 
As he becomes one with you, your walls embrace him with a tantalizing grip, a response that reflects the profound connection between your bodies, a fusion of desire and intimacy that transcends mere physicality.
“Ah, you’re still so tight,” 
He releases a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, a sound that escapes in a mixture of relief and surrender, as he reaches the depths of your being, a tangible joining that renders him fully immersed in the euphoria of the moment.
You savor the overwhelming fullness that finally envelops you, a sensation that satiates the craving that has persisted throughout the day. 
It's the culmination of a desire that's been building, being filled to the brim with the thickness of Jimin's dick, a union that ignites a shiver coursing down your spine, electrifying every nerve ending. As the moment unfolds, he initiates a slow retreat, a movement that draws you both through a symphony of sensations, a dance that echoes the intimacy of your connection.
He surges forward once more, a determined movement that drives him to the very hilt, his relentless desire mirrored in each of his swift thrusts. 
With a masterful touch, he discovers your hidden spot in mere moments, a revelation that sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, the intensity of the sensation causing your vision to blur as the world momentarily fades, overtaken by the overwhelming cascade of ecstasy.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he pants, the rhythm of his breath a synchrony with the fervent pace at which he fucks you, his grip on your hips an anchor that thethers you to the reality of the moment. 
His dick plunges into you with an unyielding force, a declaration of possession that melds raw passion with an unspoken promise of unity. 
He artfully guides one of your legs up, positioning it against his torso in a deliberate display of intimacy, your foot finding purchase against his neck in a sensual image. 
With this angle, he plunges into you with a newfound depth, each thrust a revelation of pleasure that leaves you breathless, the arrangement of your bodies a testament to the choreography of desire that unfolds between you.
“Ah! Jimin!” you release a breathless moan, a symphony of pleasure and vulnerability that dances on the edge of bliss, a melody woven from the rawest depths of your desire.
“I’m so fucking close,” you pant with each measured breath, caught in the intoxicating rhythm of his thrusts, a symphony of desire that leaves you gasping for air between each electrifying connection.
One of his hands embarks on a deliberate exploration, seeking out your swollen clit with an intent that radiates through his touch. The glide of his thumb becomes a source of intoxicating sensation, igniting a cascade of pleasure that courses through your body.
“Ah!” a breathless cry escapes your lips, the sound a mixture of surprise and ecstasy as the sensations wash over you, while your body responds with an instinctual arch, a graceful curve that seeks to amplify the pleasure within the constraints of the position. 
“Fuck!” the word bursts forth, nearly a scream but instead a fervent exclamation, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you. 
Simultaneously, Jimin's fingers continue their skilled dance, maintaining a tantalizing rhythm on your clit, while his dick delivers deep and forceful thrusts that threaten to unravel your senses entirely. 
With a primal scream that carries his name on its wings, your release squirts forth in a torrent, an explosion of sensation that engulfs his dick and fingers. 
The world around you dissolves into a white-hot haze, your vision momentarily obliterated by the intensity of the moment, as you pant in a frantic rhythm, each breath a lifeline that stitches you back to the reality of the room. 
The culmination of pleasure leaves you suspended in a euphoric liminality, every nerve ending aflame with the afterglow of ecstasy.
“Fuck!” Jimin's hiss reverberates in the charged air, a testament to the exquisite sensation that courses through him as your walls clamp around him, an embrace so tight that it borders on suffocating intensity. 
As the waves of your orgasm surge through you, a tempest of sensation that engulfs your being, his thrusts mirror the tumultuous rhythm of your release. 
Each movement becomes a study in controlled chaos, his own desire reaching a crescendo as he hurtles towards his own climax. 
“Ah! I’m coming, babe!” he pants with a rhythm that mirrors the frenzy of his desire, each breath a tangible testament to the passion that courses through him. 
With a final, hard thrust, he stills within you, his essence flooding your depths in a torrent of warm cum that paints your walls with an intimate declaration of shared intimacy. 
He surges forward, a final thrust that extends the boundaries of pleasure, his movements a testament to his need to savor every last fragment of the climax he rides out. 
The rhythm becomes a reflection of his own ecstasy, each thrust a stroke of intimacy that weaves a tapestry of shared release between your bodies, a culmination that leaves you both suspended in the aftermath of pleasure.
Despite the sheen of sweat that adorns your skin and the fever that courses through your veins, an urgent need propels you to draw him close, your arms enveloping his form in an embrace that defies the constraints of physical discomfort. 
Your body radiates heat, a testament to the fever's grip, yet the desire to feel his heartbeat against your own is a force that eclipses all else. 
“It’s hardly fair,” you remark with a playful huff, a mixture of exasperation and laughter tingling your words, “that you’re not even breaking a sweat.” 
The words carry a lightness that dances amidst the weight of your fevered state, the exchange a testament to the shared intimacy that allows for such candid moments even in the midst of vulnerability.
“I guess I’ve got better stamina, sweetheart,” he chuckles, the sound a gentle ripple that lingers in the air, even as his dick goes soft within the warmth of your pussy. 
With a tenderness that belies the intensity that has passed between you, he seals the moment with a sweet kiss pressed to your lips, a lingering connection that speaks of the intimacy shared and the unbreakable bond that defines your connection.
A blend of his cum and your own arousal trickles from your heated core, a physical reminder of the fervent exchange that has unfolded between you. 
He withdraws from you completely, a deliberate movement that creates a sudden void, a palpable absence that contrasts with the intensity of moments prior. 
Slumping down beside you, his breaths come in ragged pants, each exhalation a testament to the exertion of shared pleasure. 
The space between your bodies becomes a canvas that captures the echoes of your intimate dance, an image of vulnerability and release that lingers in the air like a whisper.
A sense of emptiness washes over you, an aftermath of the profound connection that has left a void in its wake. Your lips form a subtle pout, a silent plea that rests in the curve of your expression, a wordless request for the closeness and intimacy that you yearn to preserve. 
“Oh, I know that look,” he chuckles softly, the sound a warm caress that mingles with the air, as his hand sweeps through his blond hair. 
The knowing amusement in his eyes speaks of an unspoken understanding between you, a connection forged through countless shared moments, a familiarity that transcends words.
Beside him, you shift restlessly, a subtle squirm that speaks volumes about the growing hunger within you. 
Your thighs press together with a desperate urgency, a physical manifestation of the insatiable desire that has rekindled within your core. 
The air seems to crackle with anticipation, the atmosphere electrified by the magnetic pull between your bodies, a force that threatens to engulf you both once again in the flames of shared longing.
“Just give me an hour or two, then we can go again,” he chuckles softly, the sound a tender reassurance that carries within it a promise of more to come. 
His lips nuzzle against the delicate curve of your neck, a gesture that's both affectionate and possessive, the fervor of his kisses an echo of the passion that simmers between you. The intensity of his touch leaves a mark, a phantom sensation that lingers even after his lips have moved away, a tangible reminder of the connection that binds you together.
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Author’s note: I get incredibly horny when I have a fever, so this idea popped into my head 😇 My husband calls it “fever horny” 🤣 I’m so sorry, am I the only who’s like this? 🫢
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chimchimmarie · 2 months
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OUT OF THE FRIEND ZONE (Part Two)
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: College Au, Friends to Lovers
Word Count: 1,500ish
Summary: Jimin finally realizes he wants out of the friendzone, but will you feel the same way when he finally makes his feelings known?
AN: I finally found the time to write pt. 2. I hope you like it. I listened to “Fire Away” by John Michael Howell while writing this.
Read Part One.
The mood in this movie night has quickly shifted from playful banter between friends into one in which you feel judged for sharing that you had finally met someone. You feel yourself crawling into yourself more and more. For a moment, it feels like your friends were ganging up on you, deeming you as some unattractive, poor excuse for a woman who is unworthy of attention and love.
They didn’t actually say that, of course. But your mind has gone into the rabbit hole of overthinking that fast. At this point, you believe it’s becoming more of a second nature to you. You just can’t help it, and you hate yourself for it.
The whole conversation had really made you so self-conscious. You genuinely believe that Taehyung doesn’t mean to hurt you in any way. He’s not a bad person. He’s your best friend. But sometimes words could cut even if you don’t intend them to.
You just don’t get why he just had to make it sound like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life, that you’re being crazy for wanting to finally date.
What’s wrong with dating anyway? Don’t you have a right to meet guys and go out on actual dates?
Are you really that awful as a person to the point that even your friends would forbid you to go out with a guy you think is great?
You feel so betrayed. What kind of friends would gaslight you into thinking you aren’t good enough to date?
And if they tell you one more time that this is them being protective of you, then they’re being complete jerks. This is absurd, you think. You’re a consenting adult, capable of making choices for yourself. And you don’t need to be babied like a middle schooler.
By the time Jimin showed up, Taehyung started acting more frantic than he was prior. He’s still going on and on on why you can’t be thinking about going out with Namjoon. The other guys chimed in, too. Going so far as judging him because he’s a varsity player. But you genuinely think that Namjoon looks decent and nice for someone who plays sports.
He’s nothing like most jocks you’ve come across with in campus. Most of which have either been a fuckboy or a totally egotistic maniac. Namjoon was a great guy. And all these misconstrued notions they have of him is getting in your nerves.
Jimin has been quiet ever since. He hasn’t said a single word to you. He didn’t back you up like he usually does. He’s being too quiet, actually. You’ve been trying to catch his eyes but he hasn’t looked at you since he entered the room. He also suddenly picked a seat on the floor, instead of his usual spot next to you. It’s almost as if he’s suddenly ignoring you.
Feeling so frustrated, you fire back at Taehyung, raising your voice and startling everyone in the room.
“And why should I listen to you!? You’re not my dad, none of you are! You can’t tell me what I can or cannot do! ”
“Oh come on, that’s not even what I’m trying to do, y/n. I’m just worried about—“
“Worried about what?? Can’t you just be happy for me for once?! Damn it Tae!”
“Hey, hey, guys… Stop it. We came here to watch a movie and hang out. Come on.” Jin tries to pacify the tension while blocking your view of Taehyung.
“Right. I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to—“
You didn’t even let Tae finish, you stood up and made a beeline for the door.
Before you could hit the elevator button, a firm warm hand grips on your wrist.
“Y/n. Please… Don’t leave.”
You recognize Jimin’s voice. You feel the warmth of his body close to you. His scent overpowering you for a moment.
You scoff as you try to pry your hands away.
“So, now you speak. Where were you when Tae was in my face the whole time in there?”
You turn around with much force, yanking your arm away from his hold.
“He doesn’t mean it. He’s just—”
“—being Tae. Right. And I’m supposed to just let it slide, like every time?” You cut him off. Frustration and disappointment laced heavily in your tone.
“You know what, I’m sick and tired of taking all this shit from you guys. Whenever I talk to you about my dating life, you get like this. EVERY. DAMN. TIME! Am I not allowed to do that? Is there some kind of rule that I cannot go out there and meet people? I know you guys care about me, but for crying out loud, stop treating me like the helpless little sister you never had!”
The silence that followed your outburst was excruciating. Jimin was wide eyed as he watches you lash out on him, mouth agape and jaw stuttering before he could manage to respond.
“That’s not how I ever saw you.” His voice was soft it’s almost a whisper.
“What?” You ask.
“I never saw you as just a little sister y/n.” Jimin pauses to look at you.
You don’t understand where he’s trying to go with this but you keep mum and decide to let him talk.
“You were more than just that to me. You have no idea.” He scoffs. He keeps his eyes on you as continues to speak his mind.
“And can you please stop thinking that we’re ganging up on you. That we don’t care. That we’re out here to hurt you—God! That’s the last thing we’d ever want for you! And Tae—he’s just trying to… get me to do something about it.”
“About what?” You press him to go on.
Jimin seems hesitant to speak again but he decides it was now or never.
“Y/n, listen to me. Don’t go out with Namjoon. I—“
“Jimin, not you too! For fuck’s sake just—“
“I like you, okay!! There! I said it! I like you!” He cuts you off, hands thrown in the air.
You stop moving and breathing altogether. His sudden confession rendered you unable to speak. You didn’t really know how to respond to that. You feel like you’ve been blindsided by your best friend. You just stood there with eyes bulging, seemingly shocked at what he had just blurted out. Before you could figure out what to say, he’s talking again.
“Look, this isn't how I wanted to do this. Part of the reason Tae acted so rashly is because he knows I was supposed to tell you tonight after the movie but.. you just—I mean, you’ve started seeing people and you’re not supposed to—I mean, I can’t dictate what you can or cannot do.. but.. I haven’t… I just… I had to— God, why is this so hard!? I feel like an idiot!”
Jimin pauses to catch his breath. He rakes his fingers through his hair as frustration starts to crawl up to him.
Taking a step closer to where you’ve been frozen in place, Jimin takes your trembling hands in his. In another breath, he bares his soul to you.
“I’m in love with you y/n. I have for quite some time now. I just— I haven’t been brave enough to admit it. Even to myself. But I want to change that now. And this is me finally doing what I should have done the first time I realized it.”
Jimin watches you for any reactions. But you’re beyond speechless with how things turned out. You’re suddenly hyperaware of his existence in front you.
He’s held you like this before, so many times actually that you’ve lost count already. But the touch of his skin and the way he tightens his grip suddenly feels foreign to you. It almost feels wrong. Like he’s not supposed to hold you like this. He’s your best friend. He’s not supposed to touch you and tell you these absurd things while looking at you like… like he… like he’s actually in love with you.
“Please say something?” He demands with his voice that suddenly sounds so sweet yet yearning.
You look into his eyes as your mind goes haywire in full panic mode and all you can think of doing at the moment is the one thing you genuinely believe you’re good at—running.
And so that’s what you do. You run.
You run from this situation. From your best friend. From the feelings that suddenly feels so suffocating.
Your voice finds you as you tremble and break the contact to hastily step back into the elevator.
“I… I can’t— I can’t do this.. Jimin, I—I’m sorry.”
As you wait for the doors to close., the last image you see is Jimin’s hopeful eyes morph into pain. Like someone just ripped his heart out of his chest.
Part Three tbc.
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bts-0t-7 · 9 days
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BTS | PJM | FIC RECS
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Jiminie is here!! Hehe... Don't forget to tell the authors how much you have liked their work. I know they'll love hearing from you
Have a meal, darlings 😏
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Into The Wilderness, @gukyi (angst, fluff, comed,f2l, camp counsellor au, unrequited love)
The Iron Ring, @sailoryooons (fantasy au, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers)
Long Term Couples, @taetaespeaches (series, fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, idol au)
Placebo, @bangtanlicious (smut, soulmate!au, love triangle, s2e2l, hurt/comfort, fate versus destiny, dystopian backdrop)
Crystal Snow, @minniepetals (figure skating!au, fantasy!au, king jimin, supernatural power)
Schrödinger’s cat, @dovechim (guardian angel jimin, comfort)
Destined With You, @borathae (Forbidden Love!AU, Fantasy!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers!AU, Romance, Smut)
Backtrack, @mapofthesea (smut, dom!yoonmin x sub!reader, fem!reader, producer!au, feat. Yoongi)
Rock Bottom, @jkbabiey (Idol!Jimin, angst, fluff, smut, establishedrelationship!AU, marriage! AU)
Nectar, @gimmethatagustd (roommates to lovers, supernatural au, smut, angst, fluff)
Desperate, @ressjeon (smut. That's all I'll say. Heavy fricking smut)
38 notes · View notes
cupoftaae · 11 months
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Hate To Love You (PJM Drabble )
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Summary- you and your ex husband, Yoongi, reunited at one of your mutual friends party. You haven’t spoken to him in years in resentment for his behavior towards you and assumed he despised you just as much, only to find out it’s actually the opposite, despite you being ready to move on when someone unexpectedly shows up….your best friend.
warnings- well its basically a friend hookup thing, minor smut (oral female receiving) (no penetration) sexual tension, swearing, alcohol, mentions of divorce and cheating, angst, sadness
rating- 18+
It was a stupid argument, really
You never guessed it would spark the conversation that would months later be the result of your divorce with Yoongi.
"you are just always at work, and I understand-"
"you cant get upset with me for working, y/n, who the hell would pay for all the bills?" he scoffed, sitting at the desk in his recording studio.
taken back, you decided to defend yourself against your husbands sudden coldness.
"I work too, thank you very much"
"you work two days a week in an office"
"so?" you stood, beginning to grow annoyed "I still make money and pay for half the shit we own"
He laughed, seemingly amused at your efforts, "you dont have the pressure to make said money, y/n, and plus, our jobs, our lives arent...."
"arent what? yoongi?"
He sighed, "dont you have higher aspirations for yourself? rather than working twice a week?" he looked over, quick to defend his statement before you flipped out,
"I know you work, y/n, but you cant compare our schedules....I hope you see what im trying to say?"
Scoffing, you paced around, you felt insulted. You didnt have the pressures of being a musician, sure, however you still had to take on the pressures of being a woman, wife, the maid, the chef, the doggy daycare worker, the therapist, etc etc because the list can go on for hours
You sensed the conversation took a turn in a direction you had not been aiming for, your objective was to kindly seek more time off with your husband considering your 4 year anniversary was coming up, and he took it and did a 360.
It didnt get better, either, because this exact conversation would end up becoming the topic every time you argued, and in a short amount of time it quickly got heated.
"Yeah, you are probably off somewhere between her legs, because wouldnt you fucking love that yoongi??" you threw your water bottle at him as he stood at the doorway of your bedroom, he watched you intensely
"I told you, I had to stay late tonight, I fucking texted!" he defended
"you are telling me you were in that fucking office until 3am? okay..."
He brushed his hair back in disbelief, "yes, if you dont believe me, text hoseok"
"Let me see your phone then" you spoke up after a few moments
"what?" he scoffed
"phone, let me see it"
".....y/n, you dont trust me?" he seemed genuinely upset at this, putting his guard down
"no, I dont"
"that girl who works as an intern has never even spoken to me, you think im off having sex with her??" he snapped
You shrugged, keeping your arms crossed, "I dont really know what to think anymore yoongi, you keep disappointing me, we keep disappointing each other, it seems."
He glared at you, trying to read your face, you were serious. "well then what are we doing this for?"
You bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged again, shaking your head and looking down, "I dont know."
and thats exactly how one week later, you showed up at his job with the divorce papers, slamming them on his desk silently.
And thats what leads us here tonight, at Namjoons house party exactly a year and a half later.
The divorce was never finalized, never made legal, he put it off until you threw your hands up and moved out, and if anyone asked- you were a divorced woman, no long a Min.
You swore you would never trust him again, never him creep back into your life in the same way he always tried. you were done, over him, even.
But God, did it strike the deepest nerve in your system when you saw him sitting on the couch, his arm draped around some other girls waist while he chatted with friends.
You watched, leaning against some crowded doorway with a half drunk cup of liquor in your hand.
"bored?"
you looked to your left to see your friend Jimin pop up next to you, almost scaring you.
"jesus, jimin" you sighed, turning your body away from yoongi to look at the boy in front of you.
"seems like you are not having fun, we can change that" he smiles and holds up another expensive bottle of alcohol, making you groan.
"rather not have a hangover tomorrow" you frowned and looked back at yoongi, Jimin noticed.
"hey, whos that hes with?" he asked, following your gaze to the crowded couch in the other room.
"no idea..." you exhale, turning back to jimin with a sad look.
"oh my god" he froze
"what?"
"dont tell me"
you tilted your head in confusion "tell you what?"
He began to smile, laughing almost "you are jealoussss"
You scoffed, nudging his shoulder "no-im not. we arent married anymore I dont give a shit what he does"
"seems like you do, though" he smirked
your face fell into your hands before shoving him teasingly, something that caught yoongi's eyes as he gazed across the room at your back facing him. You were talking to another guy.
"I know you guys arent even divorced legally" he whispered
"what? yes we are!"
"yoongi spilled the beans...no you arent"
You frowned, crossing your arms. "that motherfucker."
"he was drunk and was going on a whole tangent about how he refused to sign the papers and what not...tried to like, push it back as much as he could"
You shook your head "when was this?"
"like a week ago, when I mentioned you would be at the party"
"Jimin we havent even talked in over a year....pretty sure he blocked me, why the hell would he care?"
He shrugged and looked back at the couch, surprised to see Yoongi looking already at the two of you.
"I dont know...but something tells me he cares a lot more than you think"
"dont be cryptic and ominous" you rolled your eyes, "what do you know that I dont? what did he tell you? be honest" you pleaded
"listen" he half smiled, "all im saying is that you two had known eachother for 8 years before getting married, then you were together for 4 more years, I dont think that kind of connection suddenly falters you know?"
"no-I dont know, I know nothing at all"
"ok well you are impossible to talk to, also- you suck at taking hints" jimin teased before turning to walk away, "oh, and by the way, hes been staring at you for the past few minutes"
You froze and turned your body slowly, jumping when you realized Yoongi had gotten up from his distant seat, and was now right behind you.
"holy fuck" you gasped, putting a hand over your heart.
He didnt say anything, his casual blank emotion plastered over his face as his hands fell into his pockets. "hi" he mumbled
"hello?" you scoffed, "you scared the shit out of me to say 'hi'?"
he slightly smiled, "yes"
you glared at him before walking past, directing yourself to the kitchen, he followed behind, unable to help his gaze trail from your back, down to your ass-the dress you chose to wear tonight definitely suited your figure.
"why are you following me? are you lost?" you sarcastically mumbled, turning away to grab some of the crackers that were next to the snack trays, softly nibbling onto them.
"what were you and jimin talking about?"
"oh please" you laughed, turning to see him, "this is why you are talking to me? for the first time in a year? to discuss jimin?"
he nods.
"hes in the other room, heard he is single, your hair is nice-you might have a chance" you joked coldly, wishing you could run away right now.
he released an airy laugh, leaning against the counter as he waited for the random person in the room to leave before speaking, "You look nice"
You raised an eyebrow, "...thanks...you do too i guess?"
"im just complimenting you, didnt have any mal intent behind it" he gazed at you "its not like we are strangers, you know"
"i know" you mumbled, continuing to eat the dry ass crackers.
He sighed and looked around the kitchen, grabbing a drink for himself.
"dont you have some girl to entertain, why are you sitting in here with me?"
He laughed, "you have not changed at all"
"whats that mean?" you asked defensively
"i mean, we havent spoken in so long and you still only care about if other girls are getting into my pants" he smirked, taking a sip of his drink.
son of a bitch.
"I dont care! also-dont need to know!" you pressed your lips together tightly.
He sat silently, watching you
"stop staring at me, freak" you sighed, knowing you could just walk away but somehow didnt choose to.
"you know your mouth is gonna get dry from all those crackers" he spoke calmly.
"i can handle my own, thank you" you spoke, putting down the stack of crackers in your hand.
He smirked and walked over, tipping your chin up to press his cup of alcohol to your lips, giving you a sip, "there you go"
You stared wide eyed at him before taking a step back, wiping your mouth. "what do you think youre doing?" you bit
“Socializing. It’s a party, no?” He raised a brow, pulling back a little
“Go socialize somewhere else, you’re in my personal bubble” you fixed your hair and tried to calm your breathing before once more pushing past him, walking into the other room.
He snickered and took another shot before catching one of his friends and striking up a conversation.
“How’d it go?” Jimin suddenly popped up next to you, scaring you again.
“You need a fucking bell”
“Sorry” he giggled, standing next to you against the wall.
“Literally nothing happened, he is still the same snappy person he’s always been” you spoke, eyes trailing over across the room to see yoongi speaking with his friends. The purple lighting of the party reflected onto his long black hair and pale skin, no one could deny his beauty, especially when he smiled.
Jimin noticed, a softer smile peaking up onto his lips, “do you want me to go speak to him for you?”
You immediately shook your head, crossing your arms as you tried to change your glances at someone else, eyes shooting onto Nayeon who was 2 seconds away from making out with jungkook.
“Get a room” you whisper
Jimin laughed, “rather quick to the point”
“Jimin shut up” you whined, “I wasn’t talking about you! I was talking about-“
“Wait” he perked
“What??”
Jimin giggled mischievously and looked back at yoongi before looking back at you, “just be honest, you still have feelings for him, huh?”
“No!”
He raised his eyebrows
“Jimin-“
“Admit it! It’s okay!”
You sigh and cover your face, “jimin….of course I do….I just can’t stand who he is now. I fell in love with the old him, before everything came crashing down…I have to remember that’s not him anymore”
He smiled gently, rubbing your shoulder “he has changed”
“No he hasn’t, and it took less than 5 minutes of banter to figure that out”
“Y/n, he still….” He stopped himself from talking, realizing it might not be his place to say.
“What? He still what?” You inquired
“Nothing…”
“Jimin.”
“He may or may not have feelings im not sure I can’t remember”
Your eyes widened before relaxing “yeah no, he was flirting with other girls like a few minutes ago”
“Mmm….maybe he was trying to get you jealous”
You rolled your eyes at his words
“I saw we give payback”
“What….?”
He smirked, “cmon, pretend to be up all on me or something, he’s looking, he will get jealous”
You laughed, “I don’t think he will believe the fact that I’m interested in you”
He pretended to be offended
“Hey, you’re cute but we are friends and have been since diapers, I don’t see us like-“
“God you complicate everything, just…follow me” Jimin sighed, taking your hand and throwing yoongi a quick glance before leading you up the stairway behind you.
You followed along, trying to see what Yoongi’s reaction was as you crawled upstairs, he seemed annoyed, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.
Jimin led us into a room and shut the door, a smile on his face as he searched for the light switch.
“It’s dark” you whispered, “we didn’t actually have to hide in the room you know, we could have just sat in the hallway until he came up for me”
“Whatever, if we are playing the part we do it right” he mumbled, still scanning the wall with his hands trying to find the switch. “I can’t find it”
“Whatever” you huffed, sitting behind the door and tucking your knees to your chest. You don’t know who’s room your in, the only light noticeable is the moons reflection peaking in from the windows.
“You ok?” He whispered, finding a spot next to you.
“I don’t know” you shrugged, “I just….wish I never showed up to this party, and I wish you never told me yoongi still has feelings for me”
He felt suddenly guilty, “I’m sorry”
“It’s okay, I think …despite me still having ‘feelings’ for him, I just need to be away from yoongi. I fell in love with him years ago, he was so different and family oriented….he has changed so much and I can’t submit myself to that just because it’s him, and I’m attached”
He nodded, taking your hand “I understand”
You tried to even your breaths in fear of crying, “he treated me badly, and I did the same to him, we don’t work together and I refuse to try again just because he thinks it’ll be good for us”
“That’s reasonable, y/n, you can make your own decisions, im sorry if I put you in an uncomfortable situation”
“It’s not your fault Jimin, if you weren’t here I wouldn’t have even come to this dumb party anyways” you slightly smile
“Hey, I’m always here for you” he raised his hand in a fist bump, where you happily reciprocated.
“Thank you, I’m here for you too Jimin”
He hummed softly “do you wanna go back downstairs?”
You thought for a moment, “not really….I might head home soon anyways, you can go back though”
He shook his head “nah, I’ll chill with you until you decide to go”
“Really? You don’t have to, I know you have many possible girls and boys downstairs for you to entertain” you giggled
“Eh…”
“You’re like the number one flirt, don’t tell me there’s no one at this party that has hookup potential”
He sat for a moment, looking down at his knees as he quickly tried to wipe the smile off his face “mm…nope”
“I doubt that” you snicker
He shrugged, an eyebrow raised as he kicked his feet out straight in front of him, arms in his lap.
“I don’t know if I would hook up with anyone here, yoongis friends are okay looking but the idea of doing it with anyone associated with him just grosses me out”
You both giggled as he nodded “nah that’s reasonable, I almost hooked up with one of his studio friends and then I found out he literally had a girlfriend”
“What!??” You looked at him despite the dark room making it difficult to see his face
He nodded shamelessly “yup” he popped his mouth at the “p”
“It probably would have been bad sex anyway” he couldn’t help but laugh at himself
“I mean yeah, not to talk shit but yoongi and I usually didn’t have the best chemistry with shit like that, must be the studio guy genre” you joked
“Really?? He looks like walking sex, you’re telling me it sucked?” Jimin questioned
“It didn’t suck necessarily but….I don’t know I don’t wanna talk behind his back”
“No no no tell me” Jimin giggled “because a few months before you got “divorced” he was preaching about how good he was to you in the bedroom”
“He was discussing me in front of all his male friends?….”
“Nothing graphic, that’s all he said is that he knew how to satisfy a girl” he shrugged in defense
You rolled your eyes “yeah….sure yoongi.”
Jimin laughed
“He…god this is embarrassing…I wouldn’t even finish most times, and I had to fake it”
“No way” he seemed genuinely shocked
“Yeah, maybe I faked it a little too good, striked his ego up and shit” you giggled, hiding your face.
“So you’ve never had an orgasm?”
“Oh I’ve had a few, but like it was always 50/50, I never knew if it was gonna be a good time or not you know”
He nodded, taking in the information as you spoke.
“But whatever..” you sighed, leaning your head against the door. “We should probably head downstairs”
He sighed, looking at you as you began to stand to your feet, he stood too. “We don’t have too”
“Well what else is there to do?” You giggle “we can’t sit in the room forever, it’s pretty late too”
He looked at you as best he could
“I could give you an orgasm” He calmly spoke like it was no big deal
Your eyes shot wide open, “w-what??”
He shrugged, silently
“What did you say?” Your voice was startled
“ I said I could give you an orgasm, if you want one”
“Um….Jimin you are my friend” you whispered
“I know, I just feel bad after hearing about the yoongi thing, and I want to make it up for you”
You tried to not freak out at the fact your best friend calmly asked if he could make you cum.
You bit your lip, “uh…”
“We don’t have to do anything” he gently waved his hand “it’s just a sudden horny suggestion”
You softly giggled, looking at your feet.
“Wouldn’t it be kinda, I don’t know, odd?”
“Not really I guess, I mean I always thought you were hot”
You blushed, feeling suddenly overwhelmingly shy.
“Do you think I’m attractive?”
You bit your lip nervously.
It would be a lie to say you’ve never thought about Jimin like this, which is why it’s such a shock that it was randomly happening in some random persons bedroom at Namjoons party.
“Yes” you breathed out
Jimin smiled “then…the offer stands” he begins to walk towards the door before you gently hold his arm and stop him.
“Jimin”
He looked back, a soft expression as he waited for you to finish speaking.
“Make me forget” you whispered after a few silent moments, your faces close together as he began to smile slightly.
“Are you sure?” His voice was low and quiet
You nod slowly
“We don’t have to, you seemed unsu-”
“I’m sure” you began, “I’m just kinda in shock that it’s actually happening”
He giggled “you’re cute…come here” he gently held your hips in his hands, your heart racing faster than it ever has as he pushed you softly against the door.
Jimin finger raised to his mouth, “quiet, mm?”
You nod, already feeling breathless before his lips suddenly crash into yours, taking any air out of your lungs.
Your hands flew to his hair, pressing him against you as much as possible. “Mm” he moaned against your lips, the vibrations sending straight to your core.
He didn’t fail to notice your red, blushed face even in such a dark room. “You okay” he quietly panted, pulling back a little
“I-I’m okay, that was nice”
“Good” he laughed, returning his lips to yours for a quick peck before trailing down your jaw and neck, so slowly that you felt you were going to explode.
He had you trapped against the door and his body, Jimins warmth only stimulating you more.
“This okay..?” He whispered, pulling his lips away from your cleavage as he fell to his knees, arms softly trailing your sides.
“Yes jimin, it’s okay”
“You trust me?”
“Mm” you nod, feeling his fingers at the hem of your dress, thighs tingling. “I trust you”
With that- jimin gently folded up the bottom half of your dress, exposing your laced red underwear, he felt prideful in seeing the slight wet mark that had dampened them. He went against mentioning it in fear of embarrassing you, rather instead keeping the image in his head that he was able to do such thing to you.
“I can take these off? They are so pretty” he whispered, looking back up at you
“Yeah you can….” You bit your bottom lip, trembling slightly
His fingers delicately hooked into the hem of your underwear, slowly pulling them down while making sure you were still okay with his actions.
“Tell me to stop and I will, okay baby?”
The pet name had you almost moaning, you found the strength to nod, “o-okay”
“God….so perfect” you mumbled to himself once he caught a glance of your dripping core, he’s never seen anything like it.
Jimin took a breath after tossing your underwear to the side, his hands climbing up your thighs as he encouraged you to part them for him, his two fingers gently exploring your folds, pressing against your clit, making you gasp.
“Oh-” you pressed your lips together and leaned your head back against the door behind you, knowing that there are possible people on the other side who might hear.
He was in amazement at how wet you were, the soft squelch sound was the only audible noise in the entire room, making your cheeks red.
You tried to thrust your hips a little to silently plea for what you wanted, his eyes raised up to you
“Use your voice, tell me what you need”
“Jimin….” You whispered, his fingers still slowly rubbing your bud. “Your m- ah…your mouth please”
You wanted to fall into the floor as you heard how needy your voice had become for your friend, but one look at his shit eating grin and suddenly you reminded yourself he was enjoying this just as much as you.
“Okay baby, remember, be quiet yeah?”
You nod and close your eyes, preparing for what was to come.
The moment you felt jimins plump lips reach your core, your arched your back away from the door, moaning softly “oh shit, jimin” a hand reached down to rest atop his head.
“Mm taste so good” his voice was pressed against you, the vibration only stimulating you more. “Here baby” he pulled away a little, helping you lift a leg and throw it over his shoulder so you hadn’t lost your balance while standing.
His tongue resumed to your clit, sucking and swiping through the wet folds, savoring the flavor that was you
“Oh…fuck jimin!!” You whined, throwing a hand over your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, “it’s so good”
Jimin brought up the hand that wasn’t holding your leg, tracing it up your thigh before pressing a finger into you, the wetness making it easy for him to slide in.
He groaned, “oh shit”
Your mouth had fallen into a small o shape, the pressure of his one finger turned into two, and before you knew it, he was curling them upwards and around, searching for your g-spot
“J-jimin!” Your hand clutched his hair, he only smirked before returning his lips to your swollen clit, sucking vigorously as if it was his sole mission in life to make you cum all over him.
You suddenly moaned out loud, mentally cursing yourself for the volume, he knew in that moment that his skilled fingers had found your frontal wall perfectly, he continued to press into that spot quickly as the wet sound between your legs got louder and messier, tongue lapping at it all.
“Jimin im gonna cum, oh god, oh god” you whispered, squirming your hips a little so you were quite practically riding his face.
He silently encouraged you, the hand holding your leg up began to softly rub into your skin, giving your permission to let go.
“Fuck!!” Your vision suddenly turned white with one last thrust against your g-spot, you tried to balance yourself before you felt jimin help you keep still, “shit” your voice was shaky as the orgasm ripped through your body aggressively, his fingers swiping between you to gather your slick, licking them off in front of you.
“How was that?” He panted, pulling your dress down as he stood
He gave you a moment to catch your breath, “that was….so….oh my god”
He laughed, reaching down to pick up your underwear “I’ll take it was nice?”
“Absolutely”
“Good” he smirked, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Here” he whispered, giving you back your undergarments.
“No no” you smiled, taking them and putting it into his pant pocket
“Oh?” He raised a cocky brow, “does this mean I qualify for a second round?”
You smirked “do you have plans this weekend?”
“I can clear them” he spoke quickly, making you laugh
“Ok…let’s go before people get suspicious” you whisper, trying to quickly make yourself presentable as if he didn’t just suck the life out from between your legs.
He nodded and helped you fix your dress more before opening the door, both of your eyes following over to yoongi who stood on the other side of the hall, watching you.
“Oh fuck”
228 notes · View notes
kiestrokes · 6 months
Text
Geonbae Pt.2 | NSFW
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Pairing: fuckboy!Park Jimin x Reader/You/Yn Rating: NSFW! Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Word Count: 4,594 Genre: three part mini-series, smut, a smidge of fluff, friends to ??? Warnings: drinking, cuddling, the seductiveness that is Jimin’s libra sun, idk let me know if I missed anything.
Sexually Explicit Content: marathon sex, sexual intercourse, vaginal penetration, penis in vagina, fingering, kissing (making out), biting, marking, ear biting, nipple stim, clit stim, overstimulation for both parties, missionary, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, mild choking, multiple orgasms for both parties, condoms, one small creampie slip-up.
Summary: Looks like that bootycall to the one Park Jimin has worked out in your favor, just don't expect to walk straight tomorrow…or for a week basically. He has a notorious fuckboy reputation to uphold still, can't let you leave without at least four orgasms.
🗝️ Note: listen, it is finally here, and I am satisfied with it. Not just satisfied, but overjoyed, elated, all the dopamine chemicals screech in rejoice. Hasn't been beta-ed!
Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.
DLS Masterlist ⭒ Santa’s Dirty Little Secret ⭒ Geonbae Pt.1 ⭒ Read it on Ao3!
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“I’m ready.”
Jimin's fiery gaze meets yours and you raise your knees to give him better access. His hips tremble as he rubs himself between your damp folds before allowing himself to sink gradually into you. A low groan leaves his parted lips as your entrance stretches to accommodate him.
“Fuck, sorry, it’s been a while” Your fingers tighten on the back of his neck, while the other fists his hair.
“Why are you apologizing?” Jimin grunts.
His hips snap up once he is fully nestled inside, causing your body to flex up against his, the sensation echoing across your skin.
“Habit” you pant, pressing your knees into his sides as your pussy adjusts to him.
“You don’t have to do that with me,” His hands rustle up the sheets coming to rest on his forearms on either side of your shoulders. “I want you to just enjoy yourself tonight. Can I enjoy you?” His tone simmers to a low on the question and you nod.
Jimin’s grin catches you off guard more than the kiss does. The crinkling of his eyes under the rise of his plush cheeks, a quality you have adored from the beginning of your friendship. Combined with the way his sumptuous lips are soothing the stirring of your nerves, how they blanket your mouth like your favorite sweater.
Jimin hips start an unhurried rock into you, and you mirror the movement. Feeling the familiar warmth begin to flame out across your body from your core. Each stroke brushes deep into every muscle, the sensations lighting each corner of your skin.
Jimin moans your name into the crook of your neck, chased by each of his grunts. Just as lost as you are in the feel of him. His hands have found purchase on your body, digging into the back of your thighs at the summit of your ass. Lifting your hips into his thrusts, so that he is entirely submerged in you at each advance.
“Shit, you feel so good,” his lips skim across your cheek, blackened eyes meeting yours.
“So do you,” Your voice pitches as he ruts into you hard, his width spearing you open. Causing your cervix to flare against the tip of his sheathed cock.
Jimin's eyebrows pinch together as you squeeze him internally and he groans, throwing the rest of his weight into your joined sexes. Seeking more of it, more of you.
You claw at his back, head falling back and gasping as the stretch nearly consumes you. Jimin cries out, his body shuddering into yours, and then he's gone and you’re clenching around nothing.
“Fuck that was just…too close.” He stares down at you, hands in tight fists and pretty dick standing at full attention.
“I want on top.” You lift up onto your elbows, gaze devouring the very nude Jimin who is still standing stiffly at the side of the bed.
He gives you a tight nod and you exchange positions. Jimin sits at the edge of the bed before tugging you into his lap from behind. Your legs slip to the outside of his thighs and you glance over your shoulder to center yourself.
Jimin palms your ass open, to give your cunt an easy path to his swollen cock, and for a moment your brain short circuits at the intimacy of this. How your other partners had to beg for this view, and yet you’re giving it to Jimin so easily. His eyes jump to yours when he feels you freeze.
“Hey, you ok? Still want to do this?” His hands leave your ass instantly and smooth up your sides.
You nod eagerly and Jimin blinds you with another smile, forgetting the penetration and tugging you down into his lap for a kiss over the shoulder.
His hand presses into the valley of your ribs and the other cups your jaw as he hums into your mouth. The vibrations soothe your anxious mind, tossing them away like waves in the ocean, getting rolled down into the undercurrent.
Jimin pulls away, his eyes still closed, “we can go slow.”
You nod, nose rubbing his, and lift your hips just enough so that you can take him in your hand. The motion causes Jimin’s lashes to flutter open, and his eyebrows to converge as you rub him between your folds. Your own body jerks when you bump his fat tip against your clit.
Jimin’s hands drift to your hips and he laughs breathlessly against your moan when you finally sink onto him. He has the perfect dick, and you just know that he knows it. Not too long that you have to worry about impaling your cervix, but deliriously thick. How his broad base stretches your entrance and tugs at your g-spot with every rise and fall.
“Jimin,” You moan against his mouth once fully seated.
Jimin whimpers your name in response when you kick your ass back, rubbing him audaciously all those previous nerves having sunk away. His eyes drift open and close as you begin to draw him in and out, your pelvis tilting forward and squeezing him mid-length before slowly pressing his dick back into your slick walls.
You nudge his cheek, lips seeking his and he moans a compliance. His mouth devouring yours as you pick up the slightest amount of speed.
Jimin’s tongue rolls across yours, before sucking it into his mouth. The motion causes your speed to increase, and Jimin grunts in response into the depths of your mouth. His hands tighten on your hips earning a shudder from you as he dives impossibly deeper into your mouth, one hand returning to your jaw. You let out tiny whimpers in between the movement of lips.
“Fuck, Jimin,” you mumble as he kisses you harder, nibbling at your bottom lip.
He breaks with a gasp trailing kisses down your neck, until his nose is pressed between your shoulder blades and he's bouncing his hips in time with you, driving right into the front wall of your cunt.
“Oh fuck” you grasp at his hands, one on your hip and the other between your cleavage with his small fingers spread at the base of your throat holding you tight into his thrusts. “Jimin,” you whine.
His breathing is heavy as he places a kiss on your shoulder, “You ok?”
“Yes, deeper.”
Jimin lets out another breathless laugh and slips his arm across the fold of your thighs and hips. Pressing you into his lap with a drawn-out moan of his own as you swirl your hips. You do it again and feel his body tighten.
“Fuck,” your name and the curse are hissed together through Jimin’s clenched teeth.
You moan in response, bracing your hands on your calves and bearing down as hard as you can on Jimin’s thighs. Relishing in the new, strangled version of your name that escapes his lips. Tossing your head back at the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you at this tight angle.
“Oh Jimin, you feel so good” you breathe.
He stutters your name again, you don’t know if it’s from your praise or the fact that you returned to your previous motions. Slamming your pelvis down with a tight squeeze of his cock each time.
“Jimin,” you moan and his hands clench against your skin.
Lights scatter across your closed eyelids suddenly and the distant sound of more fireworks startles your eyes open. You watch the fire blaze against the stars and the inky night sky.
You pitch forward slightly to get a better view causing Jimin to cry out at this shift, his hands dropping from your body. You huff a laugh and bring your palms up to your thighs, bobbing up and down with newfound leverage at this angle.
There's a soft thud as you feel Jimin collapse behind you, “s-shit.”
You moan a laugh, looking over your shoulder catching Jimin watching you with hooded eyes, his eyes jumping to yours from your ass when he catches you staring at him.
“You’re fucking amazing” he breathes, gone is the warmth of his chocolate irises and in their place is the darkness of his spread pupils. Heat radiates up your chest at the sight of him so fucked out and all for you.
“Jimin,” you whisper almost as a beg.
“As soon as you come I’m right behind you,” his hands drift to the outside of your hips.
You nod, body already tightened on itself. You sit back, hands bracing beside Jimin’s torso and slip him in and out against the front of your pubic bone.
“Ohhh shit,” Jimin’s body stiffens almost instantly. “what are you doing?” Jimin moans underneath you, relaxing again.
“Coming” you pant, hips thrusting erratically, you press a hand to his cock squeezing the half that isn’t buried inside you.
“Fuck-shit” Jimin stiffens under you as you climax, entrance squeezing his tip tightly.
Jimin’s hands are on your breasts, suddenly squeezing each globe firmly, before pinching your nipples.
“Shit, Jimin!” your body snaps forward and Jimin sits up with you, his resolve lost. His hips drive up into you as your hands skid on your damn thighs, slick from sweat and effort.
Jimin groans and suddenly you're on your knees and Jimin is pounding into you from behind. He presses you down into the bed with one hand on your shoulders, the noises coming out of his chest almost savage.
“Jimin,” you cry and his front folds over your back, abs rippling at each curve and pull of his spine.
“That's it love, come for me, please come for me” Jimin groans through clenched teeth. Burying himself deeply in you with each slam of his hips and so deep it nearly consumes himself.
His hand slips up to the nape of your neck and fists tightly into your hair. That’s it, that's all it takes for your walls to seize around his cock, your moaning intertwined with his voice as Jimin repeats your name like a prayer.
“Coming so pretty on my dick,” each word punctuated with a rough drag of his swollen member.
Until you’re squeezing your thighs together as hard as you can, in an attempt to ease your own orgasm as it rolls through you in waves, drowning you in overstimulation.
Jimin finally stills as your pussy squeezes him tightly, his release spilling into the condom with a throaty groan. Your ragged breaths are a soft backtrack for the fireworks continuing to explode outside.
“Fuck Jimin,” you whimper as a familiar lightness fills your bones, like your marrow has been replaced with helium and you could float away at any moment.
You shift your hips forward, in an attempt to escape Jimin’s cock that is still embedded in you. He gets the idea and pulls out with an intake of air.
While Jimin is busying himself with discarding the condom you move to drag yourself to the other side of the bed. But Jimin catches you, pulling you back by your waist. Rolling the two of you over onto your sides and spooning his naked body against yours in a way that is so painstakingly intimate, but so very Park Jimin.
“I told you to quit avoiding me,” he trails the pads of his fingers over the curve of your hip.
Laying skin-dimpling kisses across your shoulder blades, up to the crook of your neck.
“I'm not avoiding you now, you just finished so I thought-”
“We aren't done yet,” Jimin nuzzles into the junction of your shoulder, fingertips curling into the soft skin of your stomach. “Do you think after a decade of friendship, I’m going to let you go so easily?”
“You’ve fucked all of our friends,” you say casually, with a blasé shrug all the while your mind is racing at the thought of what Jimin was promising; more orgasms.
“But you held out the longest, why is that?” Jimin’s tone is flooded with candid curiosity.
“I was always content in my relationships,” you glance over your shoulder at his face, but his eyes are downcast, watching his hand glide across your sweat-glazed skin.
He hums, “What about when you were single?”
“You know I never remained single for long.”
“How come you never gave me the chance?” His eyes skip to yours finally, his brown irises alight with inquisition.
“Park Jimin, dating? That's laughable,” you can’t stop the actual snort that leaves your nose.
“I have dated!” Jimin flips you onto your back in mild offense, making you erupt into full-bellied laughter.
“And none of them ended well!”
You feel the heat creep into your cheeks as he nuzzles himself between your thighs again, pinning you to the bed with his well-muscled thighs.
“So I’m just good to fuck?”
Jimin’s eyes lid and you know he is feeling the same rush of renewed arousal that you’re experiencing under his touch and gaze.
“And a great thrower of house parties, and to go shopping with, and picker of the best gifts,” you prattle off a short list of his talents.
Jimin lazily circles one of your nipples, his eyes absentmindedly watching the flesh pucker against the scrape of his nails, “Mmm sounds to me like I’m boyfriend material.”
“Maybe rentable boyfriend material,” you laugh, but it sounds wispy and thick, catching in your throat on its way out.
“Fine,” Jimin pouts, “I guess I’ll take what I can get. Consider me yours, and yours only to rent whenever you need me.”
“I’ll hold you to it Park,” you stroke his bangs back from his brow and he turns his face to kiss the palm of your hand, mumbling an ask about how many orgasms you’ve had in one night.
“Maybe two? Definitely no more than that. Why?”
“Our goal is to at least double that amount,” He slants his torso up your body while his other hand dives between your thighs.
Lowering his mouth to hover over yours whispering your name in promise, “god you’re so fucking wet.”
You gasp as he rolls your clit between his thumb and forefinger languidly, before dipping two fingers into your swollen entrance painting your release over the sensitive hill of nerves.
Jimin's mouth seals to yours as he begins to strum, and you anchor yourself to him by tangling your hands in that fluffy chestnut-colored hair of his.
Your moans become lost in the cavern of his throat as his tongue dances with your teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Jimin pulls back, lips kiss bitten, puffier than you imagined they could get when your body starts to tremble with the approach of your next orgasm.
You clutch at his wrist, your hips trembling as you get overwhelmed by not just his touch but his eyes. How his perceptive gaze jumps from your rolling hips, over the rise of your upturned tits, to your face, where he holds your hooded eyes with a fixed stare as you gasp and beg.
“Jimin,” you whisper and he groans, slanting up to kiss you again, a simple but weighted kiss.
Before his digits dive to your core, fingers curling into the front wall of your cunt, you claw at his back and arm. Jimin watches as you arc off the bed under his touch.
Jimin’s brows pinch together and he unintentionally presses his swollen dick into your leg, letting you know he's equally as turned on.
“Jimin,” your hips roll shamelessly into his hand.
Calling him to you both visually and verbally. He's up on his knees, hand still thrusting into your rocking hips as he nudges your thighs wider and you fan them open eagerly.
“Jimin, I’m close, oh please don’t stop” you vocalize your praise, having discovered that kink of his moments before your first orgasm of the night.
“Not stopping love, come on I can feel you, you’re so close” Jimin moans, one hand on you and the other on himself as he sits back on his heels.
You press your head back into the bed at the sight of him fisting himself, his tip swollen and leaking.
Your body arches again and everything snaps, Jimin’s hand is gone suddenly and he's buried in you to the hilt. His lip is bitten between his teeth as you work him, chasing the echoes of your orgasm. His hands firm on your hips as you thrust, he gasps your name as your cunt continues sucking him in harshly. Jimin’s hips bear down on you, unmovable as you continue to come around him.
“Fuckkk, love, oh,” He gasps out.
Jimin’s orgasms right behind you, his hands leaving your hips with one final press. You watch as those hands rub up his chiseled stomach, across his nipples as he spills into you. You understand what is happening; why Jimin is rubbing himself, needing to be touched everywhere as his orgasm twinges each nerve ending. You flip him over, palms pressing hard into his chest as he moans low in appreciation.
Finally the right direction on the bed, with Jimin’s head resting on the pillows. You rake your nails lightly down his stomach, watching as his pupils dilate and he gasps your name.
You stretch to reach for a condom, Jimin slips from your cunt with a shiver as you rifle through his bedside drawer. Sitting back on his sculpted thighs once you’ve acquired what you need. Jimin watches you with wide eyes as you rip the condom open, rolling it over his sensitized length with full intent to ride him again.
He’s more vocal than before, alternating between moans, whines, and grunts the entire time. Thrashing against the bed, clutching you to him, his hands trembling up your spine, digging into the crease of your thighs, clenching your hips and breasts all in deep appreciation as you ride his cock.
“F-fuck,” Jimin stutters out, before breaking off to moan your name.
His head tossing, mussing up his hair even more. You moan at the sight of him, so wrecked and all for you.
“Love, if I knew you were like this in bed, damn.” His body tenses under your spread thighs, “I would’ve kicked everyone out during the Secret Santa party,” he pants out, head pressing back into the pillows as he fights off his orgasm.
You laugh just as breathlessly, as your body pulls taut, “It’s better this way, starting the New Year off right.”
The moan that escapes you, vibrates pre-echoes of your climax through your body and across his.
“Shit why do you feel so good?” You ask as you stroke his stomach again watching his skin erupt into goosebumps and following it with a quick snap of your hips.
Jimin looks more fucked out than ever, cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes blazing into yours as he says the next words a firmness that nearly makes you come, “I was made for you.”
You moan, hand pressing between the swells of his pecs and Jimin shudders, “Gonna come for me, Park?”
Your body shakes with effort, just as overheated as his, but determined to ruin the man beneath you first.
Jimin cries your name, rutting up into you as you thrust back, orgasm exploding up his body. His hands seize your waist as he arches into you. You continue to ride him through the aftershocks, your climax dancing just at the edge of your vision.
“Uhh-mmm” Jimin whimpers underneath you, head tossing with each slap of your ass.
His hands flexed helplessly against the outside of your leg. You moan again, and Jimin stiffens under you when your walls give one final squeeze as the band inside you snaps.
“Jimin,” you wail, coming apart, causing the muscles of his thighs to spasm as he looks at you wide-eyed, mouth gasping in a perfect circle.
You slam your ass down, pussy sucking him in as you orgasm.
“Stop, stop, fuck- please,” he gasps.
His body shakes as his cock pushes out another release, an empty one into the condom as you incite a dry orgasm from him. Jimin mumbles your name in a quiet plea as you cease your movements.
You comply graciously, slowly folding over him for a light kiss that he tilts his chin up for before you roll off to lay beside him, your body spent. His own body shudders hard beside you and he groans through the aftershocks of the overstimulation you just inflicted.
While he is catching his breath Jimin asks what you were laughing about earlier.
You huff a laugh, “Namjoon being the king of destruction breaks the door lock.”
Jimin sits up shakily, hands rolling the spent condom off his length, “Oh it doesn’t actually lock, so the only thing he broke was his nose.”
“Park, your bedroom door doesn’t lock?”
You lift up onto your elbow as Jimin ties a knot and tosses the condom into the waste basket beside the bed. He shakes his head, reclining back in the dampened spot next to you.
“No, I had an incident with a hookup. She locked herself inside and I had to call the fire department to get her out.” He winces at the memory before his eyes drift over to take in your horrified stare.
Jimin waves his hands with a laugh,“She’s fine now married, and has a baby I think.”
“Do you keep tabs on all of your hookups?”
“I’m not heartless you know,” he rolls on his side to face you.
The moment thickens but for a different reason. There is a sadness in Jimin’s eyes that you hadn’t quite noticed before, it takes you a moment to realize what exactly it is, loneliness.
“I just haven’t found the right partner yet.”
You nod in understanding and pull him into your body for a hug, fingers tracing up his spine as he nuzzles into your neck.
“Do you want to shower?” He mouths into your collarbone.
“I don't have any clothes,” you laugh softly as Jimin pulls away from your embrace.
Jimin rolls his eyes, “You can borrow some of mine.”
With that, he slinks out of the bed, and you roll on your back to admire his bare ass.
“Playing into the boyfriend act already, hmm?”
You scramble across the soiled sheets to follow him.
Jimin winks over his shoulder at you, “Come on, let's have a shower.”
You shower together, in muscle rejuvenating clouds of steam and tangerine scented body scrub. Jimin diligently cleans you from behind before his hands drift lower to work out another orgasm, kissing the water off your neck
“Jimin,” you whine.
“I want you to come as hard as you made me earlier,” He huffs huskily before nipping the shell of your ear.
Jimin traps you between his body and the cold tile, both nearly equal in their firmness. The porcelain bites painfully and pleasurably into your nipples. He encases your thighs together with his while his hand starts to rapidly stroke across your clit.
The direct touch, the cold tile and Jimin rubbing himself listlessly into your backside have you begging and whimpering in no time. Your head is thrown back on his shoulder, while his hand drifts up from your hip to squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers.
“Oh fuck,” you shudder into him and damp lips meet your neck with a sly laugh.
“I think you can come harder than that,” his hand makes its way to your neck and you bite your lip at the squeeze, trying and failing not to pant.
He squeezes lightly as he rocks your hips into his working hand with a slow roll of his.
“Jimin,” you plead.
“Yes love?” He rumbles against your ear, voice tainted with pride before sucks your earlobe into his mouth.
“Ah fuck, harder.”
Jimin moans softly before squeezing your throat harder, a panting gasp escaping you as you rub your hips against his arm. His other fingers move so rapidly that you’ve lost count of the orgasms that have come and gone.
Lost in the dizzying featherlight stroke that he slows to as each orgasm coasts over your body. You whine deeply, everything is so slick and hypersensitive.
“Ahhh” you scream, pressing into Jimin's hand at your throat to cool your forehead against the tile.
Your legs shake violently at this climax and Jimin groans proudly, catching you quickly as you begin to fold.
“Oh damn, I need to sit down” you mumble in belated realization.
Jimin's musical laugh fills your ears as he carefully lowers the two of you to the shower floor, your back resting snuggly against his chest.
“How many was that?” You tilt your face to him, blinking against the misting spray of the shower.
“I uh...wasn’t counting, I was busy.” His cheeks tint at his confession.
You laugh out loud and tug his face to yours for a deep kiss full of appreciation and admiration.
The two of you leave the shower once you gain some sea legs and Jimin has the chance to clean your latest releases from the folds of your cunt.
Swaddled up in fluffy towels you stop short, surveying the damage you both had done to his bed. Jimin quickly slips past you, pulling open dresser drawers to gather you a pair of his briefs, socks, sweats, and a hoodie.
“You get dressed and head to the couch,” He presses the clothing into your waiting hands with a soft peck to your lips. “I will put the blankets in the wash, so we can cuddle up and watch The Holiday.”
“Ok, bring blankets,” You give him another quick peck before turning back to the bathroom with your newly acquired wardrobe.
Once clothed you pad out in Jimin’s thick socks and collect as many of the pillows from his now stripped bed that your arms will hold, and waddle towards his living room.
Jimin is clothed in a simple white t-shirt and gray sweats when you arrive, his hair drying in haphazard waves as he pours champagne into two flutes.
A massive pile of white comforters awaits you. Spread out across his plush, deep-cushioned couch. He retrieves some of the pillows from your strained arms and the two of you pile into the makeshift bed with soft laughter.
All the lights have been extinguished, the curtains open just a smidge and Jack Black’s quick fingers working across the keyboard on the television. Only the soreness between your legs sets this night apart from your usual hangouts with Jimin.
Once you’re settled against each other, Jimin leans forward to pluck the glasses from the table.
His warm eyes meet yours in the dim light as you clink glasses, “to the New Year.”
“Geonbae,” you whisper as the two of you take heavy swigs, Jimin already reaching for the bottle to refill your flutes.
The two of you drift into a gossamer cloud of champagne bubbles, the early 2000s romantic comedy, and fluffy blankets backed by the sound of the washer filling. With every sip of the sweet ambrosia Jimin’s stolen kisses increase in carnality as the two of you drain the bottle.
Your name is spoken like an incantation against your lips between each press of his until he’s nuzzled into the hollow of your throat.
Jimin's breathing levels out to a steady rise and fall and you wonder how someone so angelic looking could be the most careless heartbreaker you know.
Distantly, like a faint echo in the deepest recesses of your brain, you wonder if you were going to let him break your heart too.
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© COPYRIGHT 2023 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.
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thvlouvre · 11 months
Text
[One-Shot]
Let Him Know — Park Jimin
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✔︎ Summary: Jimin is tired of seeing you suffer; he is done with watching you cry over men that don’t deserve you. And he is especially sick of seeing your self-stem being hurt every time you find them cheating on you or leaving. So, he takes the problem on his hands one last time and decides to make you feel better in his own way.
✔︎ Trope: Exes to lovers, exboyfriend! bestfriend! Jimin x female! Reader, smut. (it will make sense once you read their story I swear)
✔︎ Inspired by: Let Em' know, Exchange and Don't all by Bryson Tiller (basically the entirety of bryson's discography lol)
✔︎ Word count: 3.6k
✔︎ Warnings: Cheating, low self-stem, mentions of toxic relationships, possessive jimin. Dub-con, body restrictions, slight knife play, panty sniffing, oral sx (f receiving), over stimulation, crying, dirty talk, praise, fingering, somnophilia, male mastubation, no aftercare.
✔︎ thvlouvre's note: remember when I said I didn't have much experience with smut? yeah, this one shot feels a little unfinished for me... still the freakiest thing I've done, I need to go to church, byeeeeeeeee.
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Jimin’s jaw was clenching in anger, his knuckles cracking every time he clenched them.
You were breaking down on the elevator, hands covering you face with shame while you cry your heart out, tears falling endlessly down your cheeks and the glimpse of face he could see under the places your small hand couldn’t hide he could see red fluffiness.
It all started with you and Jimin coming back to the office, where you, him and your boyfriend work. The three of you had made a reservation that Friday night on a jazz club in downtown, so you all could have a few drinks and hang out together. Your boyfriend had said in the last minute that he couldn’t go, since he was tired, and his mom was out of town and he needed to go to her house and check the cats.
You both believe him, and just when you and Jimin were halfway to the jazz club you came back because you had forgotten to give your boyfriend the apartment keys, you both found him fucking the marketing girl on your desk. The one that was in the middle of Jimin’s desk and his own. You throw his keys to his head to catch his attention and leave, Jimin following you disgusted with the sight of the imbecile trying to put back on his pants, shouting your name.
You didn’t want to go home, since probably your boyfriend would go to your apartment looking for you, and obviously you wouldn’t go to his so you ended up on a silence ride to Jimin’s flat.
While he drove all the way to his apartment, he reminiscences the beginnings of your relationship with him. You and Jimin had met when you both started college, you instantly clicked, the type of friends that would always end each other’s sentences and knew the other better than the palm of their hand. Some other friends of yours would always say that there was some chemistry between the two of you, a tension anyone could feel.
So, after six months of being best friends, you went for it. Gave each other a chance.
It was a disaster, unfortunately you dated Jimin when he was going through a hard period of his life. He didn’t give the attention you needed, the affection you deserved and even when you always let him know you could never hate him for anything he could do to you, you were surprised when you found out he wasn’t exclusive to you during the month you both were together.
You ended the situation. That’s what you used to call it, because maybe for you it was an experiment to see if you could see him as something more than a friend, but for him it was real. No matter how awful he acted towards you during your relationship. You went back to being friends, “We work better as friends” that’s what you have said to him to make Jimin feel less guilty, so he thought that giving you sometime for yourself would work. He would become a better man for you for the next time you give him a shot.
That shot never came.
You started to date guy after guy after guy, and he was your number one beholder for every single failed relationship. Years went by, and he still hold hope dear close to his chest knowing that there would be enough space and forgiveness for him in your heart once again.
But Jimin was starting to lose his patience, for every tear you ever drop he had been there. For every unfaithful man that ever had the audacity to betray your trust, he was there. For every heart piece they ever broke he was there to pick them up. But what hurts him the most is see how you have lost your confidence wondering if it’s you the one that’s cursed or there was indeed something wrong with you.
“Is there something wrong with me?” You asked in between moans, the tears blurring your sight so you could only see shadows and sparks of light in the darkness of the car.
He did not answer, his heart already aching and his hands holding tightly the driver as he wish he could speak softly to you, but Jimin knew that if he talks now he would lose it.
“Am I ugly?” You kept silence waiting for a response of his, all he could do was deny with his head “Am I annoying? Am I a bad person? Am I a bad lover?” He kept moving his head aggressively denying everything.
“No, __. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Then why I can’t make anyone happy enough to stay with me? To choose me and be loyal?” You didn’t wait for him to answer, you just broke down sobbing and hiding your face with your hands.
Because men are stupid. He was stupid once, those two months where you and him were together were the happiest shiniest of his life and yet he somehow managed to screw it up and turn his problems against you. You, the one and only person that knew him and the things he was facing, you the person that had always hold his back. He had the nerve to cheat on you and being the first name on the list of men who mistreated you.
He hated himself for it. And even if you forgave him, he hadn’t.
“You can take my room” he said once you arrived to his house, in several occasions you and him sleep together innocently, but this time he wouldn’t be forcing you to sleep on his bed with him because you needed time alone “I’ll take the couch”
“It will be just for tonight, I’ll change the lock of my house tomorrow” you said in a low voice tone, arms crossed in front of you like hugging yourself. His heart felt heavy when he was making dinner and you showed up on his kitchen fresh out of the shower with one of his cottons t-shirts, but your eyes were inked in blood, you cried in the shower.
You two ate in silence, watching a comedy movie. You could feel his fingers going up and down to your thighs, massaging them, trying to make you feel better. One thing about Jimin is that he will always give you contradictory messages, just when you would think you were over him and his two-month situationship that happened years ago, he will always show you moments of how he used to be with you.
Foot massages, movie nights, surprising you with a cake after a work meeting, ordering clothes that he saw online and thought they would look good on you.  But he was always respectful to you, never crossing the line of friends ever again after you two broke up.
You finally feel asleep after you cried for a whole hour, tears dried out on Jimin’s pillow, and you thought you were discreet with your sobs, but your best friend had heard each of them. He stayed on the couch, TV on but muted. He was staring at the screen but watching nothing, he was just abstracted in his own thoughts. Anger and frustration boiling the blood on his veins, wondering what he could do to make you feel better.
You wake to a sensation of restriction in your body, your late-night dream suddenly interrupted and forgotten as soon as you realize you’re still inside Jimin’s room, but there was a light turn on in a corner, and Jimin himself was standing in front of you, pacing from side to side like a tiger inside a cage.
You could feel your arms being forced one down to other in a restraining position; the cold breeze of the air greeted your body and you also notice that the blankets that covered your body were gone now. And you started to move your legs in protest when you finally realized what was happening. It took you about twenty seconds to connect the dots and see what he was doing. He tied you up.
“What is going on?” you asked, raspy voice cracking in nervousness since you were actually freaking out, but one part of you deep inside knew that Jimin would never harm you.
All the contrary, what Jimin wanted to do with you was to make you feel better, and to make himself a little relief that he could make you stop crying, from sorrow at least. He was also very angry still, it hurt him deeply to see how you were doubting yourself, how your strength and self-stem was being destroy by a stupid man; so he had two choices for that night, either going to that scumbag house and beat the audacity out of him, until Jimin’s knuckles were bleeding and he no longer had any strength left on his body and the idiot was barely breathing or, give you pleasure.
His number one priority that night was to make you stop crying, because the more he heard your cried, the angrier he gets. A reasonable voice in the back of his head was telling him to stop, to not proceed to whatever perversity he had in mind, but he was so mad to even care about the consequences, he needed to show you how you should be treated.
“Jimin, what is this? What are you doing?” he could feel the anxiety in your voice, but he told to himself that he was going to release all that angst and stress off your body very, very soon.
“You said some shit you shouldn’t have said, __” he stated, unbuttoning his shirt, his low deep voice tone sounding a little to petulant. You coughed confused and a little outraged, what could you have said to make him so upset?
“Don’t you remember? You telling you’re ugly? That you’re annoying and a bad person?” he pointed at you, knowing it wasn’t your fault to feel that way because you were hurt over your ex’s actions, but still he founded insulting how you were talking to yourself “Why are you even doubting yourself? Because of that asshole?”
You stayed silence, not knowing what he really wanted to hear and fear to make him even more upset.
“Not tonight, baby. You’re not crying for that bastard” he started to walk towards the bed and kneel in between your legs, and in your short sight you could see something silver and shiny on his left hand.
The moonlight was leaking through the curtains, and in his open shirt you could see the shadows and the lights that marks the cusp of his abs. His body was always something forbidden and delicious you wanted to taste, even before your situationship, you have always been week for his physique. His delicious and exquisite tonified body. You would dare to say that you tried to look for that in the other boys you’ve been with, a similar physique.
He moved the scissors on his hand to your right thigh, caressing the skin with the cold metal and you started to get afraid of him.
“What are you doing?”
“Removing your shirt” he smiled devilish, the moonshine covering the left side of his face “Or should I say my shirt?”
“Jimin get off me, please. This isn’t right” you started to deny but it was all too late, when the scissors finally ripped the shirt open showing your naked torso for him and the cusp in between your legs he could already see the wet spot in your panties.
“This isn’t right, but it will feel so good, I promise” he whispered once he could finally take your panties of and sniff them. He has missed your smell and the taste of you, one of the things he would never forget not even when he becomes an old and resentful man would be the taste of your cunt. He inhales deeply once he takes the chance to stare at your naked body.
Finally, after all these years, he can see you bare again. His shirt ripped open, the slacks falling down your sides, your arms wrapped and tied to his bed headboard and your legs open for him.
“Goodness, look at you…” he growls licking his lips, and you could feel his eyes everywhere “Gorgeous pair of tits, ass to die for, tiny waist and that fucking pussy…”
“Jimin, please…” you didn’t know for what you were begging now, for him to stop or for him to stop teasing and eat you out already. However, he took your cries as a forward sing and his head fell in between your folds.  He started slow, kissing and pecking your lips with adoration, making you wetter for him if possible, the breath of his crashing to the sensitive skin of your vulva and making you shiver.
“Jimin!” you scream desperate, pleading him to put his whole mouth and start sucking just the way you wanted.
“What baby?” he asked innocently, finally relieved that your mind was thinking something else besides your tragedy “You want more?” and you nodded in response. You moan madly, making sure to wake up his entire floor when he sucked and bite one of your lips. You felt him smirking against your cunt, and he continued his attack on your pussy as if the men haven’t got a good round of oral sex in decades. And the funny thing was that he was just getting started, he could feel how close you were when your belly started shaking and your legs were kicking the air, but he wouldn’t stop.
“I won’t stop” he said in between kisses and lickings to your soft, domesticated pussy “I won’t stop until you have come so many times the tears rolling down your cheeks are from pleasure and not sadness” and when you started to come for the first time, he started to lick the juices of your first orgasm of the night like a little kitten.
“Uhmm, you taste so good, how can anyone cheat on this pussy?” he prologues your orgasm when he entered his tongue on your hole and pass it all the way to your clit like a credit card, and when all he could hear was your cries and sobs from pleasure he found a moment to say “This is how you should be treated, beautiful. Crying every day before sleeping but of how many times you have come, not because someone is making you suffer.”
He entered his tongue and he wished he could replace the hardness of his tongue with his cock, but that night was all about you, your pleasure, you feeling better, you knowing you were beautiful, not him. No matter how much he wanted to sink his dick on you and make you scream his name. If Jimin could fuck you right now, he would call your ex over the phone, put the call on speaker and let him know how good you were being fucked.
“If this pussy was mine, I would eat it every single day, twice a day. You would limp perpetually because I wouldn’t let that pain leave your cunt” you moaned to his words, to his tongue and the way his lips curved when he was talking against your folds.
“He made the biggest mistake of his life, that poor miserable idiot” his sight was locked on the juices that were falling down your legs and leaking down your ass cheeks following your second orgasm “You will have him regretting everything in the next forty eight hours if not less, and he will realize he just lost the most beautiful, sweet and smart woman that has ever walked this planet, you’re such a blessing to have around, __” and in between his hard sucks and bites to your vagina, he pecked your entrance devotedly as if it was the entrance to an altar.
“He will kneel every night to the foot of his bed, praying on God for you to forgive him and give him another chance, he will ask God to make him a better man, someone that deserves you…” even in your mind-breaking, life-changing, religious experience stimulation you were having, you still found some lucidity to notice that Jimin was projecting himself on your ex.
“No men on this planet deserves you, __. But if someone is going to marry you that’s going to be me” and with that he stopped his monologue and started to fuck you with his face, sniffing, inhaling, licking, and sucking the smell and taste of your vertex as if it was the life elixir.
You were reaching the climax for a third time, when you heard Jimin saying something in the distance. You didn’t answer to anything he could be asking, the feeling of pleasure being too distracting for you to pay attention to him. He stops kissing your middle, and death stares you. You cry in protest, waving your hips to his face.
“I asked you something” he spitted.
“What’” you could barely articulate.
“Say you’re beautiful.” He smiled, looking at you like the crying mess you were. “You’re beautiful” you say moving your hips to the direction of his face. He spanks the soft flesh of your legs, anger.
“You think I’m stupid? You got to say ‘I’m beautiful’” he starts to enter a finger in you, and you understood his motive for you to say what you needed to say,
“I’m beautiful” you whispered, trying to catch air when his fingers reached a new spot in your cabins.
“You don’t sound so convinced, pretty. I might stop if this isn’t working” he teased but the idea of stop the pleasure drove you crazy and you found yourself screaming “No! Please, Jimin! I get it, I’m beautiful!”
“Again” he demanded, his mouth attacking the abused pink flesh once again.
“I’m beautiful!” you shouted.
“Again!” he growls, his voice echoing his whole bedroom.
“I’m beautiful, I’m so fucking pretty, so, so gorgeous” you lost your patience and screamed whatever synonym that could work for him. He smiled when he finally had you repeating those words like a mantra, again and again.
You came three more times. You were sleepy and profoundly relaxed when he was finally satisfied with the crying mess you were to his sight. His boner could have never been bigger, and his mind could have never been blurrier, so he sticks out his cock and starts jerking off with the view of you naked, tied and sleepy, adding one more sin to the list.
And that’s when it hit him, what he had done. He stood up from his bed as soon as it hits him, separating his body to yours like you were on fired and he felt the shame roam his body. What had he done? He rushed to undo the knots on your wrists and let the circulation in your arms run after he briefly massages them. He covers your body with the blanket again, and turn the lights down, closing the door softly to not wake you up.
He was panicking, the feeling of crossing that line he had carefully trace and respect all these years was again in his throat, not letting him breath. What if you reclaim him in the morning? He could deny everything, tell you it was a bad dream and gaslight you, but it would make him even a worst man. No, he would face you and let you kick his ass.
You wake up again, the sunlight covering your face and you could feel noise on the other side of the door. You started to remember what happen during the a.m., how he entered the room and tied you when you were still asleep. How he devoured you and make you scream not just his name but your own followed in praises.
You notice your bare body under the duvet and the smell of sex his mattress radiated. His ripped shirt was gone and in the bureau there was a pajama set, a red stripped pants and a grey shirt. You put them on and prepared to go outside and face him. For a reason you felt ashamed, you were so lust driven last night, you never stopped thinking he was your best friend and that he was crossing boundaries without your consent. But at some point, he ended having your consent, you were begging for it.
“Hi” he shyly greeted you; he was making breakfast but his body freezes when he sees you, eggs getting fried in the pan his left hand was holding “Good morning” he whispered.
“Good morning” you responded; the sound of boiling oil filled the awkward silence between you too. You wondered in the memories of what he did to you, and you indeed felt better now. The last of your worries was your cheating boyfriend and now was to come clear with your friend.
“I’m so sorry” he finally speaks, loud and clear “I don’t know what happened to me last night, I just know I wanted to make you forget but I promise it won’t happened again, I hope you can forgive me, there’s no excuse for my behavior last night I-I”
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry, what happened last night was… amazing, and maybe you don’t want to do it again, but I’ve never felt more beautiful and praised than last night” Jimin smiled at your words, at the end of the day all he wanted to do was to make you feel better.
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✔︎ thvlouvre's p.s. the cover pic is horrible, grammar is not on point and I didn't proof-read it so please, be kind 😭. This is meant to be just smut with a little bit of plot, but I got a block in the middle of the hot scene and it was just better to end it nicely than leave it unpublished, remember english isn't my first language and I am publishing this during my break at work, I have no fear of God. Take care and stream Park Jimin💋
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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year
Note
Hello there! Congratulations on your followers count! Much deserved. 🫶🏻
May I please request a Yandere!Jimin with this scenario - “What was supposed to be a one night stand with a member turned out to be more when he couldn’t let go.”
Thank you for giving us great stories and being my guilty pleasure when adulting is soooo hard. I find your account one of my safe place. ☺️
Pairing: Mafia!Park Jimin x Reader
Warnings: Soft Yandere, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Light sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: thank you so much my love!! I’m happy to hear that you consider this account as one of your safe place. A highest of compliment ahuhu 💜
3000 followers
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“You’re so beautiful,” Jimin said in admiration, his eyes taking in his fill as you stripped off of your dress. His soft words did not move you. Instead, you pushed him on the bed and crawled on top of him. This was not the time for romance.
This was the time for you to lose your virginity.
It would be the biggest ‘fuck you’ to your family who thought that you were all living in the 1800s when it was acceptable for arrange marriages. However, your anger was squashed by the thought of your fiancé who was just as against the would-be union as you were. He had only communicated with you through messages, never in person. He said that the two of you really weren’t going to go through it, so why would the two of you waste time knowing each other? He was so blunt that you actually laughed while reading his messages. He was so disgusted by the marriage that it seeped through the words.
You agreed to show both your disagreement tomorrow to the families. In a way, you were lucky to have been promised to a man like him. He was as against it as you, if not more. So really, you weren’t worried for tomorrow.
But still, you were mad that they thought they could decide for you.
“Shut up,” you growled at him before kissing him in his seductive lips. He chuckled at your cute attempts in dominance. Jimin let you lead for so long, until he flipped the two of you off with so much ease. His strength was unexpected from his lean body.
When he knew you were ready, he slowly thrusted into you…only to feel the barrier signifying your innocence.
He lost his playful smile, his eyes suddenly turning serious as he looked at your tearful ones. “You’re a virgin?” He asked in disbelief.
“Well…not anymore,” you replied in a small voice, somehow certain that he was going to leave now that he knew. But Park Jimin did the exact opposite. You felt him kiss your forehead so slowly you could pretend that this meant something. He smiled at you in assurance before resuming his movements.
Park Jimin would take care of you.
Park Jimin woke up without you.
His happy mood turned sour when he saw his arms empty. He hated it. He didn’t know why he hated it when he had never, ever spent a night with someone he fucked with.
But that was the thing. He didn’t just fuck you. It felt more.
“You let her go?” He repeated to the trembling guard. Despite his height, Jimin had an explosive anger. His rage was hard to reach, yet once he did, he was even harder to calm down. “What time did she leave?”
“I-I wasn’t aware she wasn’t allowed to leave, sir,” he answered the mafia heir, his head bowed down. “She left at two in the morning, sir.”
Oh. So you left like a common thief, then.
You left him like what you both did was something inherently wrong.
You left him as though he didn’t take care of you.
You left him.
And he couldn’t have that, could he?
He would look for you, but first he needed to settle something.
“Where on earth were you?!” Your mother shouted as soon a she saw you entered the mansion. “Your fiancé will be here in an hour and you still look like a mess!”
You almost couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes from her over-the-top dramatics. Whatever you had to say, she wouldn’t listen to anyway. You were dolled up as soon as she ushered you to your room. Her choice of dress for you carefully laid out as though you were just a doll. You hair was styled to her liking, your makeup to her preference.
You looked at yourself on the mirror with no emotion. This would end, anyway. You and your so-called fiancé would make sure of it.
You were done being someone else’s doll.
You smirked as you sipped your tea. Your parents were getting impatient. Meanwhile, his parents were already in the vast living room, his father seething as he tried to contact his son. They were all a mess, except for you. You were thoroughly enjoying this. Who knew? Maybe after this debacle, you and him could be good friends.
It was almost one hour after the agreed upon meeting when the door opened. The air changed significantly as though a storm was about to come. If only you knew…
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” a smooth voice sounded from behind you. Finally, he was here. You gently placed the cup of tea back on the table like the princess that you were raised to be. You straightened your back as the families kept up with pleasantries.
“I came here to announce that I-“
Finally, he was going to say it. With a smile on your face, you looked behind you.
Only to see him.
Park. Jimin.
He blinked owlishly at you, processing what was happening in front of him. And then the fucker smiled like an angel.
It was just his luck, he thought. There you were- meant for him. He didn’t need to go far to search for you. You were within his reach all along.
This was destiny.
He grabbed your hand in his before facing your family. “I’m here to announce that I will gladly marry your daughter.”
What the fuck?
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eoieopda · 1 year
Note
One where y/n is the airhostess on Mr Park's pvt jet : smut
put your tray tables up, fam, we’re in for a wild ride.
cw: 18+ MINORS DNI — not necessarily public sex but there’s obvi a pilot on board not far away so??; one night (flight?) stand; protected sex; jimin’s hand over reader’s mouth to keep her 🤫 quiet 🤫.
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When you took this position, there was a thick training manual dropped in your hands that nearly knocked you off balance. That, combined with the rigorous preparatory courses and certification exam, left you ready to respond to just about anything: emergency landings, injuries requiring first aid, heavy turbulence, hijackings…
Unfortunately, no part of your onboarding prepared you for Park motherfuckin’ Jimin.
Your first conversation had been a brief introduction — to yourself, to the pilot, to the procedures you may need to follow if a wayward goose finds its way into the turbines and sends you hurtling towards death’s lap. Throughout what was normally a thoroughly rehearsed and meticulously delivered speech, Jimin’s half-lidded eyes told you he didn’t give much of a shit about a properly-affixed oxygen mask. The tongue that darted out to wet his lips had made it crystal clear: what Jimin wanted on his face was more likely to suffocate rather than respirate.
And you knew damn well that, despite your risk-avoidant training, this was the one instance in which you’d willingly crash and burn.
You did try your best to stay out of temptation’s way, for whatever that fact was worth. The jet was smaller and significantly less occupied than most flights you worked, so your options were limited from the start. Jimin’s presence loomed large, too, leaving you feeling exposed. More afraid of hovering than being sucked out the emergency door, you’d resolved to tuck yourself away in the back most area for as long as you could stand it.
Of course, you’d make rounds to determine whether there was any purpose for you to serve, but you didn’t expect to be of much use — not burning up the way you did when his eyes lingered on you, not with your weak knees trembling like that.
During your first of these rounds, you’d had your second conversation; you’d offered him a drink. The surplus of alcohol on board meant that you were outnumbered three-to-one by bottles, all of which could buy you out of your apartment lease. Jimin had accepted your offer.
In doing so, he’d nodded, shot you a confused expression that landed halfway between a smirk and genuine surprise, and said, “It’d be rude of me to drink alone, don’t you think?”
If girls like you deserve Dom Pérignon, you had to wonder what else made the list. Mercifully, you didn’t have to ruminate for long.
Your third conversation didn’t come where you expected — oddly prophetic, in hindsight. Instead of waiting for you to make your anticipated rounds through the main cabin area, Jimin sought you where you hid. Burning hot under your company-issued dress, your first instinct was to crack a window. Thankfully, you quickly realized that this course of action was ill-advised.
The exit sign floated overhead while he had you effectively caged off by the door. The angel on your shoulder, it begged you to listen, be professional, keep your damn hands to yourself. But the devil was in front of you in a leather jacket and, shit, the weather in Hell must be lovely this time of year.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jimin began, looking entirely unapologetic, “I had a question for you.” He noted the way your eyebrows raised in acknowledgment, then he continued, “I heard that pilots sleep through long flights — autopilot, you know? — and wondered if that was true.”
Oh, you cheeky bastard.
You bit your lip thoughtfully, then sighed, “Couldn’t say. Classified information, you know? Trade secret.”
When you leaned in to whisper the next bit, you didn’t have far to go — Jimin was close enough for you to see your own reflection in his eyes.
“I can tell you that the last layover wasn’t very restful.”
Jimin tilted his head to the side, eyes flicking down to your lips then back again. “Is that so?” He hummed. Your heart nearly rocketed out of your chest when he tucked a flyaway strand of hair back behind your ear.
“So,” your gaze was handcuffed to his as your hand drifted to his belt buckle, “Be a doll and keep the noise down, yeah?”
Jimin was smirking when the hand near you neck was rescinded. Index finger extended, he held it up to his full lips in understanding. If the look in his eyes didn’t already have you gushing, you would’ve been swept away entirely when he twirled that finger in the air, directing you to turn around.
With your palms flat against wall, you bit down on your lip to stifle the moan he threatened to steal when his warm hands grabbed the hem of your pencil skirt and tugged up, up, up. His right hand grabbed the doughy flesh of one ass cheek; the other disappeared from you. As you heard the metallic clink of a belt buckle opening, he hovered over your spine and his mouth found your ear.
“No panties?” came Jimin’s murmur with a low chuckle, “Feels like fate to me.”
You didn’t have the heart to tell him it felt like running out of clean laundry for you. You didn’t have to lie, though; the telltale crinkle of a condom packet took up the few decibels you would’ve had to spare. The subdued stretch of latex followed as he sheathed himself.
Then, if you listened closely, you could likely hear yourself dripping as he quoted you, “Now, doll, keep the noise down, won’t you?”
Jimin made silence a near impossibility. Cock in hand, he teased his tip over your drenched folds, flicking upwards to abuse your clit in the process — and you wanted to whine, to beg, to groan like a woman starved. You had half a mind to growl and demand that he stop toying with you; and you opened your mouth to do so.
He slid into you just in time to convert your plea to a strangled gasp.
He was deliberate with his unimaginably deep thrusts, grinding slowly into your heat to avoid the sick squelch of your cunt overtaking the dead air. You whimpered every time his cock ruttted over your g-spot — so much so that Jimin had to pull your back to his chest and place his hand over your mouth.
Holy shit holy shit holy shit —
When you came, pussy clenching tight around his length, you had to clench your jaw, too. Your eyes screwed shut as he continued to bury himself in you with staccato strokes. Knees trembling, your whole body threatened to fall limp to the floor; but he grunted softly in your ear when his climax came for him, and the sound of him coming undone shot you straight up into space.
You were still trying to unscramble your brain when Jimin pulled his softening cock out of you, muttering “shit” as he went. Eventually, you were able to pull your dress skirt back down. When turned around to face him, his face was flushed, having just discarded a tied-off condom in a trash bin built into the wall.
Thoroughly fuck drunk, Jimin looked at you with a blissed-out, lopsided smile, “Is there a kilometer equivalent to the Mile High Club?”
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woncon · 5 months
Text
Flufftober Day 3
"Wait you love me?" - "I always have"
🍁 jimin x gn!reader
🍁 special thanks to @honeytwo for helping me translate this into english, correcting my grammar and other mistakes. thank you for everything! °♡̷•.
🍁 flufftober masterlist | main masterlist
✁- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Is it about us? "Jimin stands in the doorway, headphones hanging from his neck, bass almost as lively as your heartbeat.
You wrote a song. A silly little song about an unreachably sweet love. Which was perhaps too honest, with some strong hints of real elements.
The truth is, you didn't think about what would happen if the person you imagined listened to the music when you created the lines, where you wrote your emotions instead of graphite. You just wanted to get over the block and the sadness. When you said goodbye and Jimin moved away, you could barely even look him in the eye because of your tears, let alone tell him how you felt.
You didn't even want to chain him to the city just for yourself. He was born to freedom, and you had to let go of your love for him as you did with him. So you took it into a song. Then Namjoon happened to found it while looking for his earpiece and said it was damn good. And then one thing led to another, and it was on the radio. And Jimin obviously listens to the radio.
He listens to the radio and has a bit of a heart attack and then drives all the way to your flat to smash your door down.
"Is it about us, Y/N?" he asks again. He is so desperate, it's like a reflection of your own soul.
"Hmm."
A little silence. Jimin blinks, shakes his head, tries to piece it together. You are still clutching the wooden door panel with your fingers.
"Wait, you love me? I mean-"
"I always have. I gave you my favorite shovel in the sandbox, let you read my diary and snuggle in my bed. I shared everything with you. Even my heart. But if you don't need it, feel free to give it back."
Jimin strokes your cheek. You shudder at his touch and the harsh words that have nothing to do with his tender skin.
"No fucking way."
Though the words are harsh, unresisting, his mouth is soft as he brushes against yours, taking you off your feet a little. He gently pushes you inside on the fluffy carpet, and you let go of the door to grab on his upper arm, this sweet dream. Your own pained resignation rings from the earpiece as Jimin kisses you with the love you've always wanted.
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flufftober taglist (send an ask! <3)
@jaeheekangslover
@haechansbbg
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