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gimmethatagustd · 3 months

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take what's yours | pjm + jjk

To secure his rightful place as next in line to the throne, Jimin must marry the neighboring kingdom's youngest heir, Jungkook. Jimin is prepared for his kingdom's invasive marriage traditions, including the need to prove that the marriage has been consummated. Unfortunately, Jungkook is not.

○ Pairing: Prince!Jimin x Prince!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Pistilverse, royalty, arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, vaguely historical, angst, smut, (fluff?)

○ 5 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Pistilverse)

○ Word Count: 3,660

○ Warnings: This is literally just emotional smut, Stamen!Jimin x Pistil!Jungkook, it's like fuck or die but instead of death they'd both be exiled from their communities RIP, loss of virginity, anal fingering, anal sex, crying during sex, it's actually very soft

○ Notes: Hello I'm back again with more Pistilverse 😌 and a drabble that's too long, of course. This is my brand atp. As usual, I added a glossary to the end of this post for those of you who are unfamiliar with the concept~

○ Post Date: January 18, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? DIE 4 YOU - DEAN

Jungkook runs his fingertips along the edge of the mahogany desk in Jimin’s chambers, opposite the large bed where Jungkook’s night dressings lie out for him. The clothes are made of sheer white lace like a fisherman’s net meant to snatch him and string him up on a line to be picked at. He took one look at them and was overcome with a panic so severe that he felt as though he couldn’t breathe.

The thick leather-bound books and messy parchment scattered across Jimin’s mahogany desk call to Jungkook, though even the friendly book spines and elegant ink scrawls pierce Jungkook’s heaving lungs.

A marriage of alliance.

The words stare at him, inked in his father’s handwriting many moons ago, in a letter addressed to the king whose land meets the sea and whose stamen son was said to be more beautiful than anyone in the seven kingdoms combined.

They were right, the rumors.

Not once has Jungkook dared look Jimin in the eyes, too consumed with embarrassment and fear. If asked, the poor prince wouldn’t be able to recount a single detail of his wedding ceremony other than the little pieces of gold that adorned his and Jimin’s shoes, for his eyes never lifted from the floor all day.

“Prince Jungkook,” a voice calls from the bedroom’s entrance.

Snatching his hand back, Jungkook spins around to meet the stern gaze of a stamen guard, one of many he has seen stationed around the palace. This one is different than the guards who escorted Jungkook to Jimin’s bedroom after the last wedding guest left for the night.

Jungkook’s stomach rumbles as if reminding him that he should regret not eating during the reception. Nerves still twist Jungkook’s insides too tightly to force food into his system.

“Yes?” Jungkook asks, hardly able to raise his voice above a whisper.

“You must be examined for marks before changing for our Highness.” As he speaks, there’s a mean shine to the guard’s eyes, something dark that makes fear unfurl in Jungkook’s chest.

“I have already done the examination,” Jungkook explains. He shuffles backward, taking small half-steps that he hopes aren’t noticeable to the guard. “It was part of the marriage stipulations, that I arrive to the Prince unblemished. And I have.”

“That examination occurred many days ago.”

Jungkook can’t hold back the look of disgust that muddles his soft features. “Are you insinuating that I would… defile myself mere days before I am to be wed?”

Anger flashes across the previously stoic guard’s face. As Jungkook’s waist hits the desk, preventing him from moving any further from the guard, he wonders if it’s appropriate for the guard to speak to his new prince or if this kingdom’s people genuinely hate him as much as he feared they would.

“You mountain dwellers are not known for your honesty,” the guard sneers. He steps toward Jungkook, posed to grab him when the bedroom’s double doors fling out.

Even in his night clothes, Prince Jimin is ethereal. Fire dances in his eyes from the many candles decorating the room, casting shadows on the downturn of his mouth. His white robe flutters behind him as he advances on the guard like one of God’s angels on the Day of Reckoning.

Something is terrifying about an unarmed man willing to move aggressively toward one who has a sword hanging on his hip. Does Jimin own a sword? Jungkook assumes so as a prince. Then again, Jungkook was never taught to use one himself.

“Sochun,” Jimin crowds the guard, his jaw pulled taunt and sharp enough to cut, “Get out of my sight before I have you stripped before the court.”

Jungkook watches with his trembling hands clasped behind his back as the stamen guard rolls his shoulders. Sochun steps into the hall with the little dignity he has left, slamming it shut behind him. Jungkook doesn’t exhale until Jimin bolts the doors.

Instinctually, Jungkook flinches when Jimin turns toward him.

“Did he touch you?” Jimin asks softly, the anger in his face settling into something gentler. If Jungkook were naive, he would think Jimin cared.

“No.”

“Good,” Jimin nods, his gaze never leaving Jungkook’s face despite Jungkook’s wish that he would look away. “If anyone ever touches you, you must tell me. Immediately.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and whispers, “Yes, Prince Jimin.”

“Please, no need for titles. We are wed, Jungkook. It is silly to use such words in the privacy of our bedroom.”

We.

Our.

Jungkook doesn’t want to be a we or an our with Jimin.

Leaning against the desk, Jungkook isn’t sure how to respond. He supposes there’s nothing to respond to; he has no say in this. His father made that abundantly clear, as did the rest of the sea kingdom’s court. It will be long before Jungkook becomes accustomed to the contempt in the King’s eyes when he looks at him.

Jungkook may have been used for an alliance that promises his safety, but it certainly doesn’t promise kindness.

“You haven’t changed.” Jimin holds the silk pajamas. He lets the fabric slip through his fingers, gliding between his hands like water. “You must be uncomfortable in those ceremonial clothes.”

It’s true; the robes are uncomfortable. The fabric is heavy and scratchy. Since the wedding was abrupt, the seamstresses didn’t have time to tailor the clothing to Jungkook’s body appropriately. It sits on his shoulders oddly and makes him feel smaller than he is.

But taking them off would mean accepting the inevitable, and Jungkook isn’t ready.

“I'll turn around?” A small smile curves Jimin’s plump lips. Jungkook only has a moment to appreciate the playful look before Jimin spins around to face the opposite side of the room.

For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t move. Jimin must know because he chuckles lightly and taps his fingers against his thighs.

“I swear I will not peek, Jungkook-ah.”

Quickly, Jungkook snatches the clothing from the bed and works on undoing the ridiculous number of buttons and little clasps keeping his ceremonial clothing together. A little voice inside his head reminds him that it doesn’t matter if Jimin peeks; Jungkook is putting these clothes on only for Jimin to remove them whenever he pleases. And then, once they have consummated their marriage, Jungkook will have to show the royal court Jimin’s flower adorning his body.

It upsets Jungkook, knowing something so personal will be taken from him and made public — not to mention how embarrassing it will be for everyone to know that they had sex.

“I’m done,” Jungkook states simply once his ceremonial clothing is folded and placed atop the trunk in the corner of the room. He hasn’t had the chance to unpack. It feels strange to think that his personal items must be placed amongst those of a stranger.

Jimin’s dark eyes sweep over Jungkook’s body much like the guard’s had, but his gaze isn’t as intimidating as Jungkook once thought. Jimin has kind eyes like he’s appraising Jungkook to make sure he’s comfortable, rather than ogle his body — even though he could.

Without needing to see a reflection of himself, Jungkook knows he looks good, the sheer material leaving little to the imagination while cloaking him in something soft and alluring. A mystery within arm’s reach.

“May I help you remove your jewelry? It’ll get in the way, and you’ll want to keep it nice,” Jimin offers.

Turning around, Jungkook stands rigid at the end of the bed as Jimin approaches him from behind.

“I wish you to know that I am sorry,” Jimin’s breath tickles the back of Jungkook’s neck just like his fingers do as he unclasps the gold necklace. “It may seem as though none of this bothers me, but I have spent my entire life preparing for this day. You… you have not, and for that, I am sorry.”

“You frighten me,” Jungkook whispers once Jimin has stepped back, putting distance between them again.

“I know.”

“I’ve never done this before.”

Jimin knows this; they all know this. If Jungkook wasn’t a virgin, the flowers of the stamens he’d slept with would be scattered across the beautiful marking of tree branches that creep up his spine like a snake with dozens of heads. But Jungkook is a virgin pistil, so his tree is barren, unmarked, and unblemished. Fit for the grand prince, the heir to the throne, who deserves nothing less than an innocent virgin.

“I have,” Jimin admits freely. He sits on the edge of the bed. Jungkook tries not to look at the thick thighs revealed when his silk shorts ride up. “Are you disappointed?”

Is there a correct answer? Jungkook isn’t sure. He frowns and stares down at the fluffy blanket tucked around the mattress.

“There are other pistils with the Prince’s flower adorning their bodies?” The question is polite but judgmental.

Rather than be upset, Jimin tosses his head back with laughter. It’s giddy, almost giggly, and nothing like the harsh prince Jungkook was taught to assume Jimin was.

“I have enjoyed time with other stamens,” Jimin explains with an amused smile. He leans back on his palms so he can look up at Jungkook. “Thus, no gold roses to worry about leaving behind.”

Despite himself, Jungkook looks over Jimin’s body, suddenly wondering where his pretty flower marking may be. Perhaps the gold rose is on his ribs or his chest? Jungkook’s gaze drops lower, and he lets himself wonder if it’s on the soft inside of his thigh.

“Are you curious?”

Blushing, Jungkook looks away. “I suppose there is no use in being curious if I’m to find out…”

Taking Jungkook’s hand, Jimin gently coaxes him to stand between Jimin's knees at the edge of the bed. Everything about Jimin is gentle, even when his tone is painted with playfulness, and his eyes sparkle with mischief. Jungkook finds those qualities comforting and must remind himself that Jimin has no say in this, either. They are both bound to each other by force.

Jimin could be rough with him and demand that Jungkook submit to his will because this is his kingdom, and Jungkook is merely a pawn in a twisted political game. Instead, Jimin touches Jungkook kindly. He runs his fingers along Jungkook’s jaw and tickles the underside of his chin until Jungkook has to duck his head in embarrassment.

“I want this to be enjoyable for you, as much as it can be,” Jimin lifts Jungkook’s chin so they can stare into each other’s eyes again. “And after tonight, if you wish to never speak to me again, I will respect that. I can get you your own wing of the palace and your own servants. Whatever it is that you desire, I will make it happen for you, okay?”

Such thoughtfulness is nearly too much for Jungkook to comprehend. How is it possible for Jimin to be this kind? Should Jungkook even trust him?

Breath caught in his throat, Jungkook only nods. Despite how quiet Jungkook is, Jimin seems to understand him. He gives Jungkook a small smile and hesitantly places his hands on Jungkook’s waist.

“Would you feel more comfortable if you kept your robe on?”

Jungkook hadn’t thought much about this moment, too afraid of giving himself to a stranger to want to consider what it would be like.

“I don’t know what I like. I won’t do well,” Jungkook admits, shame burning his cheeks. He was required to keep himself pure, but knowing Jimin has experience makes Jungkook feel inadequate.

“I will guide you.” Jimin squeezes Jungkook’s waist and pulls him closer. He tilts his head back to look up at him. “You are gorgeous, Jungkook-ah. You’re already more pleasing to me than you can imagine.”

“Oh, well…” The look in his eyes makes Jungkook’s stomach flip. “Okay.”

With a light chuckle, Jimin reaches up to run his thumb along Jungkook’s bottom lip. He hums in satisfaction when Jungkook licks his lips after, the tip of his tongue brushing against Jimin’s thumb.

“Have you been kissed, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook shakes his head.

“Will you sit with me so I may kiss you?”

With butterflies in his stomach and a heart on the verge of cardiac arrest, Jungkook slowly gets on the bed with his legs crossed to face Jimin. He always imagined his first kiss would be sweet and soft, something innocent with someone he loves and who loves him. Most of those things aren’t true now, but there’s no denying that Jimin is soft as he cradles Jungkook’s face and presses his lips to Jungkook’s.

What is a chaste kiss quickly deepens and becomes more passionate, Jimin showing Jungkook how to suck and bite bottom lips and wrestle tongues.

Jungkook feels heat spread through his limbs. He grabs Jimin’s robe and squeezes the fabric in his fist to steady himself when he begins to tremble.

“Are you alright?” Jimin asks against Jungkook’s lips.

“Can’t breathe,” Jungkook gasps as Jimin slowly guides him flat on his back.

He sinks into the fluffy blanket and stares wide-eyed at Jimin, who hovers over him, his legs spreading Jungkook’s thighs open and his hands pressed on either side of Jungkook’s head.

Jimin runs his fingers down Jungkook’s torso, flicking the folds of his robe to the side to expose the smooth skin underneath. The tips of tree branches creep around Jungkook’s sides, and Jimin’s hand slips beneath his robe to trace what part of his tree he can see. The light touches make Jungkook suck his stomach in as he tries not to squirm.

“You’re very pretty.”

People have told Jungkook this before, but it feels different coming from Jimin. Perhaps it’s because Jimin is commenting on his naked body, not just his face or how stylish he looks in fine clothes.

“Thank you,” is what Jungkook assumes is the proper response. It makes Jimin laugh, though he doesn’t know why.

“Can I touch you, here?” Jimin’s fingers play at Jungkook’s hipbone.

Too embarrassed to look down where he’s already half-hard just from a bit of kissing, Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut and consents with a whimpery whisper.

“This part of you is pretty, too.” Jimin’s voice deepens, sounding rougher than it had. Jungkook feels his cock twitch in his hand when Jimin squeezes it, swiping his thumb along the head to smear the wetness there.

This time, Jungkook can’t thank him. He’s too overwhelmed by the pleasure of having someone else touch him where even Jungkook rarely touches.

“I’m going to get lubricant, okay?”

A gentle kiss on Jungkook’s abdomen makes his eyes fly open. When they adjust to the dim lighting, he sees Jimin reach for an ornate bottle on a shelf near the bed. He has shed his silk shorts and robe and is now fully naked. It makes Jungkook’s cheeks heat up to compare Jimin’s nakedness to the half-dressed state Jungkook is in.

Now that Jungkook can look at Jimin properly, he notices the cluster of gold roses decorating Jimin’s ribs on his right side. They're a delicate contrast to the dark tattoos scattered all over Jimin’s body, most words in the language of his people— one Jungkook is unfamiliar with. The gold roses are pretty, and Jungkook finds a tiny part of himself giddy at the knowledge that he’ll soon have those gold roses on his body, too.

“Do you like them?” Jimin asks with a cheeky grin, having noticed Jungkook staring.

Unable to lie, Jungkook merely nods.

“They’re pretty.”

Jungkook’s heart feels like it will break his ribs as Jimin returns to kneel between his legs. A virgin, yes, but Jungkook knows what the lubricant is for.

“Talk to me, Jungkook-ah. Tell me what you’re thinking,” Jimin asks with a firm hand slipped under the small of Jungkook’s back to lift his hips.

Jungkook lets him slide a small pillow beneath him and realizes he’s likely making this difficult for Jimin if he’s not actively participating in what they’re about to do.

“I’m nervous,” Jungkook admits, searching for the words to explain how he feels while Jimin pours the lubricant on his fingers. “And I don’t know what to do. I want to do well, but I don’t… I don’t know.”

Holding the back of Jungkook’s thigh, Jimin pushes one of his legs up slightly, giving him more room to reach between his thighs.

“You don’t need to do anything,” Jimin says softly as he rubs Jungkook’s rim. When Jungkook jerks away, Jimin waits a moment before touching him again, slower this time. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Ookay,” Jungkook lets out a deep sigh when Jimin presses his finger past his rim.

It feels strange but not terrible. Jungkook finds it easy to relax his body as Jimin adds a second finger, and then a third, because he has been given permission to not worry about performing well or pleasing Jimin. It seems that Jimin is perfectly fine working his fingers inside Jungkook, massaging his walls and finding a spot where he rubs until Jungkook’s leg kicks uncontrollably, and Jungkook feels like he may die.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Jimin whispers against Jungkook’s throat as he trails kisses down his torso to distract from the press of his cock against his rim once Jungkook is stretched enough.

Jungkook thought it would be unbearable, but Jimin’s kindness makes up for the momentary pain. He wraps his arms around Jimin’s shoulders when Jimin leans down to kiss him. The fit is tight; Jimin is only halfway in, and Jungkook already struggles not to tense his body.

“You were so worried, my prince, but you’re doing well,” Jimin sucks a little mark at the corner of Jungkook’s jaw and doesn’t complain when Jungkook digs his nails into his back. “Just a little more.”

When Jimin bottoms out, Jungkook locks his legs around his hips to keep him in place. The feeling is almost too much, too full and foreign.

“Can you wait, please?” Jungkook’s voice cracks as fat tears slip down his rosy cheeks.

He does his best not to hiccup or heave into Jimin’s neck, just keeps his eyes squeezed shut and pants with a stuffy nose and a headache blooming in the middle of his forehead. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Jungkook was supposed to fall in love.

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin calls to him. He swipes his thumbs across Jungkook’s cheeks, wiping away his tears as best he can. “Have I hurt you?”

“No, it feels good. That’s not,” Jungkook pauses as a sob rips through him, “That’s not why I’m crying. I just, I didn’t think this would happen to me like this.”

“Oh, baby,” Jimin wraps his arms around Jungkook and holds him tightly against his body. The movement makes his cock press against Jungkook’s prostate, and Jungkook moans through his tears, which makes him cry even more.

“I’m sorry I’m crying,” he sniffles once his body feels as though it’s run out. “It isn’t your fault. If anything, I am thankful it was you. Others wouldn’t be so kind to me. I don’t understand why you are so kind.”

With a long sigh, Jimin nuzzles his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck. They both smell of sweat and sex, but it’s comforting to have Jimin close, a warm, solid body to hold onto.

“You deserve kindness, Jungkook. It is the very least I can provide you.”

Jungkook knows Jimin is right, but he can’t sort through the feelings turning his brain to soup and making his heart flutter somewhere in his stomach. He and Jimin are both victims of royal duty.

“Thank you,” Jungkook says softly, turning his head to kiss Jimin’s temple.

“You do not need to thank me, my prince.” As simple as it is, the little nickname makes Jungkook feel warm. “Would you like to stop and try again in the morning?”

Right. Because they must do this before the court calls for them.

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook relaxes his body until he’s no longer squeezing Jimin so tightly.

“We can keep going. It was nice.”

“Okay. If you want to stop, tell me. We can go at your pace.”

Giving Jungkook a light peck on the lips, Jimin rolls his hips. The thrusts are slow and shallow, with just enough movement to get both of them adequately aroused again and for Jungkook’s body to grow accustomed to the stretch.

There are no declarations of love or screams of pleasure. Perhaps one day, Jungkook thinks, as he watches how beautiful Jimin looks as he thrusts into him. It feels good; Jungkook’s moans and whimpers are evidence of that, but it’s still strange for him to be doing this for the first time with someone he doesn’t know.

“You feel good, my prince,” Jimin murmurs in Jungkook’s ear, sending shivers down Jungkook’s spine.

“Go harder,” Jungkook moans, his fingers finding Jimin’s hair to twist.

“Fuck.”

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook feels the build-up of pleasure ready to snap and spill over. Unlike anything he’s felt before, it builds from inside him, shooting sparks of pleasure through his cock and in the pit of his stomach. He cries out, unsure how to get where he needs to be.

“Jimin,” he whimpers, “Jimin, Jimin.”

“It’s okay,” Jimin reaches between their bodies to jerk Jungkook’s cock, “Just breathe.”

Jimin cums right before Jungkook does. Jungkook feels it, not only inside of him but across his back, as Jimin’s gold roses bloom on his barren branches. The thought crosses his mind that he’ll look pretty in the morning with the mark of a royal prince on his body, proof that he has Jimin to care for him.

And, perhaps, love him.

When they come down from their highs, with rosy cheeks and bitten lips, Jungkook watches Jimin prepare a damp cloth to clean him of lube and cum, and he thinks perhaps one day he could love Jimin, too.

GLOSSARY OF TERMS

(Borrowed from here and revised to fit my fic)

Pistilverse AU - A South Korean fanfic trope wherein almost all humans experience an “awakening” during puberty that assigns them into one of two botanically-inspired groups: Pistils and Stamens. These groups are denoted by marks on the person’s body, similar to tattoos.

Pistil and Stamens - Pistils develop a mark of a barren tree that appears along their spine after their awakening, while stamens develop a flower somewhere on their body after their awakening.

Awakening - The moment a flower or tree appears on a person’s body, signifying their status as a pistil or stamen. You could look at it as a coming-of-age moment in a person’s life. These are typically painful for pistils. A pistil might experience more than one awakening if their tree becomes too full of flowers.

Marks/Marking - When a pistil sleeps with a stamen, the stamen’s flower blooms on the pistil’s tree branches. The number of flowers a pistil has is proportional to that of the stamens they had sex with. In this fic, pistils with many flowers are considered promiscuous and experience slut shaming based on religion.

Marked - The term used to describe a pistil who has received a stamen’s flower on their body.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

@jooniesxbby @taegeum

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