Kim Namjoon Fic Rec List ()

 kim namjoon fic rec list (Ⅰ)

here’s a list of my favourite namjoon fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs, some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed ♡

a- angst s- smut f- fluff ❣- ultimate favourite

july kiss by @personasintro f s (dilf namjoon idiots to lovers au) ❣

prohibido by @personasintro f s a (brother’s best friend au) ❣

fool for you by @cutechim s a (rebound au hospital au unrequited love au)

try again by @bangtanfancamp f s (roommate au best friend to lovers au)

it’s december (and I still want) by @smoochkooks f s a (ex husband au)

more than anything else by @seokkgenie f s a (CEO au)

there was a bug @kimnjss f s a (roommate au best friend to lovers au) ❣

nothing like us by @jiminimoon s a (ex boyfriend namjoon) ft. fuck boy jungkook ❣

the rich man’s crochet club by @kpopfanfictrash s (virgin au college au) ❣

spilling coffee by @bts-roses f a (idol au intern reader)

dizzy by @joonessence f s (friends to lovers au) ❣

promise by @joheun-saram f s a (college au roommate au enemies to friends to lovers au) ❣

to make a power couple by @joheunsaram f s a (idol au ceo reader) ❣

daisies and dinosaurs by @dark-muse-iris f s a (single father au)

intro: her by @jamaisjoons f s a (single dad au strangers to friends to lovers au) ❣

a sight for sore eyes by @siderealmyg f s (established relationship au)

good to me by @httpjeon f s a (dating service au)

what are friends for by @kookdiaries s (best friends au friends to lovers au)

out of my league by @ppersonna f s a (office au) ❣

promises by @jeonsweetheart f s a (marriage au infidelity au idol au) ❣

the bodyguard by @rmnamjoons f s a (bodyguard au fake dating/marriage au) ❣

the father, the son and the holy whore by @taesinferno s (dilf namjoon infidelity au) ❣

nice guys finish last by @ktheist f s a (arranged marriage au) ft. Ex fiance Yoongi

cyanide on my bedsheets by @jimilter s a (friends with benefits au unrequited love) ❣

partners by @btssmutgalore s a (friends to lovers au slow burn) ❣

dimples by @sweetmisery f s (idol au friends with benefits friends to lovers au) ❣

after rain by @rmverse​ f s a (patient namjoon patient reader)

once upon an us by @yoonia​ f s a (inspired by the movie sweet home alabama past lovers au exes to lovers au established relationship) ❣

bothered by @lavienjin f s a (brother’s best friend)

sincerely, but no longer yours by @ttttaehyungie s a (exes au) ❣

lavender honey by @oftenderweapons f s a (chaebol au friends to friends with benefits to enemies to lovers au)

2AM by @xpeachesncream f s (college au) ❣

black swan by @helenazbmrskai s a (co-workers to friends to lovers tattoo artist joon) ❣

love is blind by @helenazbmrskai f s a (best friends brother au college au enemies to lovers au) ❣

ramen? by @solarwonux f s ❣

only a lifetime by @dopejk f s (dilf joon marriage au pregnancy au) ❣

emerald by @dewykth s a (bodyguard au)

love bytes by @stutterfly f s a (friends to lovers au slow burn)

spice by @breakiebunny f s a (enemies to lovers au chef joon)

new parent syndrome by @1kook f s (dilf joon husband au parents au) ❣

the perfect date by @suhdays f s (established relationship au)

flower cloud by @suhdays f a (soulmate au friends to lovers au college au)

hammer it home by @gukslut f s a (domestic au) ft. Jimin ❣

nailed it by @gukslut f s (hammer it home couple) ft. Jimin ❣

feels like home by @gukslut f s (hammer it home couple) ❣

a wrench in the plan by @gukslut f s (hammer it home couple) ❣

totally screwed by @gukslut f s (hammer it home couple) ❣

obligated by @underthejoon s (arranged marriage au) ❣

bass and strings by @jimlingss f (slow burn au slice of life college au music au)

letting go by @bangtan-babe f a (doctor au) ft. Jimin

one morning stand (m)

+ featuring . . . dom nerd!jungkook x gn!reader

+ summary . . . in which you and jungkook have one night stands with roommates and happen to be sneaking out at the same time.

+ genre . . . smut, fluff

+ wordcount . . . 7.9k

+ warnings . . . don't be fooled by the first half being fluff lmao; rough sex, a lot of dirty talk (jk will not shut up), heavy degradation (use of ‘slut’, 'whore', etc.), consensual slut-shaming (reader is into it), exhibitionism, cumplay, cum swallowing, unprotected sex, breeding kink, reader gets tied up at one point

Most mornings arrived like a lover’s gentle touch, beguiling the horizon’s rays to surface with a golden grace; yours, however, often arrived with an acute headache, nausea, and the race to gather your clothes and dip before your one-night stand roused from snore-filled slumber. Though short was the list of things worse than hangovers, the dreaded walk of shame was often far more perilous with its intricacies and social hazards.

Between tossed beer cans and workout gear was a Chewbacca-themed alarm clock ticking away the minutes until it would wake its owner with a recorded growl. You, still in disbelief you had slept with a man with Star Wars paraphernalia, quickened your pace.

Some would call you tactless, but you were simply realistic. What else could come out of meaningless breakfast offers and forced conversations if not minutes wasted on both ends?

By the time you had wiped your face clean and thrown the prior night’s clothes over your head, the sun had arced through the sky with an obstination better suited for the winter months. For it was not the light that had awoken you, but the quiet rumble of steps falling down staircases as those who lived in the party house began their morning clean-up.

This, you’d argue, was the worst part of falling asleep after a hook-up: avoiding the ‘walk of shame’.

And it appeared as if you weren’t the only one facing this conundrum.

You opened the door to see a figure lurked near the hallway’s end, fluffy hair peeking at the crowded living room. The young man stuck close to the wall as if he were one with it, desperate to remain hidden. His coffee-colored eyes scanned the scene as if envisioning a multitude of escape routes and calculating their likelihood of success. His frown said that he wasn’t too pleased with the conclusion.

The sigh was a familiar one – one that had been directed towards you one too many times.

“Jungkook?”

His shoulders jumped as if he were the hare to your fox, fight or flight senses kicking in at your abrupt arrival.

Jeon Jungkook. Captain of the debate team, frequent charity donor, homework answer sharer, your seatmate, and the last person you’d ever expect to encounter on a Sunday morning.

His neck, besmeared with an array of violent hickeys, whipped towards your standing figure. He shushed you with a finger to his pink lips – an image you’d seen whenever you would bother him with useless remarks in the middle of a lecture.

You crept beside him, crouched to copy his pose. Though you nodded, your mind meandered yonder. The Jeon Jungkook you knew from History and the Jeon Jungkook who wore beer-stained Hawaiian polos appeared as two separate entities. One you were familiar with, the other you were unsure of.

He fixed his hands through his hair and buttoned his shirt higher, clearing his throat with a demure smile better suited for school hallways than sticky trash-covered floors. “Hey, you,” his voice cracked, causing the ‘you’ to sound like two words smashed together.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” His brows raised as if the answer hadn’t been right in front you – which it had been, in the form of violet blotches and scratch marks across his sun-blessed skin.

“Did you trip down the stairs and pass out?” You half-joked. It was arduous to imagine how the teacher’s pet who did algebra for fun could find himself in the same spot you were in. ‘It’s relaxing!’ He’d argue, before timing himself on his Samsung’s stopwatch and beginning another worksheet while waiting for the professor. You were more inclined to believe the scratch marks had come from some cat Jungkook had pet-sat than someone he had fucked a room across yours.

His doe eyes grew, as if both offended and bewildered. “Do you seriously not-” The approaching sound of steps slashed his sentence short.

They must’ve been done cleaning the living room – which meant they were heading straight towards you.

Jungkook had always been quick to raise his hand during lectures. It was as if he was in constant competition with himself, as no one else bothered. And his answers were always right.

You weren’t sure if this one was; not when he nearly dislocated your shoulder dragging you up to a stand, and especially not when he shoved the pair of you into the nearest room.

With the precision of a bomb defuser, he closed the oak door as silently as his sweaty palms could.

“Jungkook, what-”

He pressed the rough pad of his fingertip to your lips.

Imprisoned within the cage of your ribs, a nestled heart thud.

This was the closest you’d ever been to him.

In the dim room, light fragments leaked from the doorframe’s gaps and highlighted his face in soft shades. You thought about sunlight: how it travelled at a nearly instantaneous speed, how distant it journeyed if only to linger on him, and how, in its earliest hours, it turned Jungkook’s brown eyes into honey.

This close, you felt more than heard the pace of his breathing; the warm air caressed your forehead as he leant past you to make sure the door was shut.

The silence allowed you to observe the room you had been pulled into, though you found it to be less of a room than you’d given it credit for. While the floor and lower shelves were crammed with an assortment of shoeboxes and house slippers, the upper half was littered with winter coats and gear. In the limited space, you could hardly exhale without your chest touching his.

It was a closet. Jungkook, in his panic, had trapped you both in a closet.

Beyond the door was the loud banter and cacophony of people as they cleaned up the prior night’s apocalyptic aftermath. Crushed plastic cups. Mops against floors. Changed bed sheets.

The two of you waited. A minute passed. Then, another. And another. They continued to clean the area outside where you hid, each too-close step causing him to flinch.

Whether it be his proximity or your ennui, you could no longer take it.

“Okay, you might have a problem with being seen but I don’t.” Your movement stirred a response from his then rigid frame. He had to maintain his golden boy reputation, after all. You, contrarily, had no notoriety of which you were caged by. The general population didn’t care about you the way they did Jungkook. The simple miracle of him attending a party would already be made a spectacle by Monday.

He reached for your wrist as you clutched the doorknob. His pout (which was horrendously endearing) compelled you to pause. “Please.” He kept your gaze, as if it were an insurmountable fact that one didn’t go against his wishes when faced with such a guise. You loathed how he was right.

“Fine, at least entertain me,” you whispered. Already, he looked as if he regretted not letting you go. “I’ve never seen you at a party before. Didn’t think you were the type to hook-up.”

You’d expected him to flush at your confrontational assumption, rather than the raised brow and head tilt you were met with. “And why’s that?”

“Because you’re so… you.” At his look did you shrug, rattled mind settling for the first adjective it thought of. “You’re cute.”

“Cute?”

“What? It’s a compliment.” You pat his head.

“What am I? A dog?” He huffed, blown air inflating his cheeks. He swatted your hands away and crossed his arms. You didn’t think it was a good time to point out how, in that moment, he very much looked like the kicked puppy he tried not to be. “You know, I’m not as innocent as you think I am.”

“Evidently not,” you said. “Or you wouldn’t be here, stuck in a closet with me, sneaking out after a one night stand.”

“Who said anything about a one night stand?”

Your brow raised. “You have a partner?”

The dark did little to conceal the crimson burn of his cheeks and ears. “No, but I’m just saying. I hypothetically could have one. You don’t know me.”

“We’ve been seatmates for five months, Jungkook.”

“And not once have we actually talked.”

“Unless I’ve been talking to your secret twin, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You complaining about our prof everytime she gives out an assignment isn’t a conversation.”

“Only because you’re a teacher’s pet.” You huffed. While he might not have appreciated your circadian quips, you didn’t think it was the worst seatmate bonding time. “Which brings me to my next question: why’d you go last night?”

“I can’t go to parties like a regular college student just because I’m me?”

You sent him a pointed look because, yes, you didn’t think he went to parties like a regular college student. While you might not have known what he got up to during his free time (seeing as he didn’t have social media), you were certain that none of it involved vomiting in his grandmother's antique vase after declining a three-way with his dealer and her boyfriend – something that has totally never happened to you.

“What?” he whined.

“Who’s the lucky person that managed to drag the golden boy away from his studies?” If you were sure of anything, it was this: infatuation led people to the most unexpected of places. For what other reason would you stay entrapped in a closet with a man in a Hawaiian polo?

His hair, as wavy as a stygian sea, bounced as he shook his head.

“If you don’t tell me, I might accidentally start speaking too loudly,” you teased, voice rising in volume.

Panicked, he placed his palm over your lips. “Keep your voice to a whisper.” He sighed, relenting. “I… I came last night because I wanted to see you.”

You blinked.

“To see me?”

His bunny teeth gnawed his lip. “I’ve always thought you were kinda cool.” His hands rose to cover his overheated ears. “C’mon, you definitely know I like you. I always act like such an idiot around you.”

You didn’t know. How could you have possibly known when he never spared you a second glance?

Reading your disbelief, he continued. “You don’t remember the notepad incident?”

The cogs in your brain turned until a memory snapped to the surface; one of him leaving his desk unattended during lecture, and you ruffling through his post-it notes out of boredom (because for reasons unknown to you, he had dozens in numerous colors). What you weren’t expecting to find were short letters—if they could even be called that—written in the backs of them. They talked about infatuation and the art of unrequited passion, thoughts you’d never associated Jungkook to having. So engrossed in their messages, you hadn’t realized when he had come back. “Who’s this about?” you had asked him as he swiped his stationary back from you, face flushed.

“You said it was poetry.”

He groaned. “What about all the times I let you copy off my homework?”

“I thought you were just being nice!”

Jungkook pouted, his foot softly stomping in frustration at your idiocy. “I’m not that nice.”

“Then why didn’t you approach me?” You hadn’t seen him the entire night.

He took a step back. “You were… busy.”

“Oh.” Your stomach dropped. “Jungkook, I-”

“No, no,” he panicked. “You don’t have to explain yourself, you don’t owe me anything. Seriously.”

“But I still feel bad.”

“Well, don’t, it’s not like I didn’t… yeah.”

“Well, the past is the past.” You forced him to meet your eyes with a tug of his chin. “We can always make up for lost time.”

His adam’s apple bobbed. “What?”

Your hands trailed his arms, surprised at the hard muscle. He shivered as you blew on his ear. “I’ve always thought you were cute, too.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really,” you giggled. “You don’t think I have good taste?”

“If you did, I would’ve fucked you last night.”

You liked this bolder Jungkook. The one who met your gaze rather than shied from it.

“Well, if you had approached me, maybe you would have.” Your hands trailed his chest. “But we can always do it now.”

“What? Now? There are people outside.” His words supposed one thing but the hands resting on your hips said another.

“Should’ve thought of that before you dragged me in here.”

He curled inwards. “Sorry about that, by the way. I panicked.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” You pressed against his chest. The rise of his heartbeat drummed against your skin. “But if you hadn’t then I wouldn’t have been able to do this.”

The back of your hand grazed his crotch.

The teasing motion awoke in him something you had yet to see. His eyes darkened as he took a step closer to you, hands spread against the door behind you. He trapped you between his arms, his breath cascading across your skin. So slowly did he lean in that your wrist’s pulse began to tick like clockwork, as if it too were counting the seconds until he closed the gap.

When he did, you were knocked breathless.

His kiss was rough, not at all like the way he pressed against you. It was soft and passionate. Strange yet comfortable. Everything and nothing like you’d expected from this Jungkook.

Your hands ran through his hair, tangled in its softness. He tasted like mouthwash and smelled like baby power. He was the definition of intoxication, and you were content to be engulfed in his waters.

Pushing his hair from his eyes, he used his other hand to drag you closer to the center of his storm, the music of lips against lips a resounding orchestra. His giggles as you touched his neck were just as melodious as he wrapped his arms around your waist as if the closet were a ballroom and you were its guests.

There was no need for violas or harps, not when he pressed against you in harmonic promises. Soft groans fell from his lips faster than wisps of smoke dissipating after a lit candle had been extinguished. More than the fear of getting caught, you thought of the pressure of his hand on your back and his nose touching yours. You’d lost count of the times you had stepped on Jungkook's feet in the dark but his smile never dulled. He was the sun to whom you’d risk lighting yourself ablaze for even just a moment of his warmth.

In the eye of the storm, you were but a bird, flailing about until you could take off with outstretched wings and storm-swept feathers. You had taken care of a bird just like that in your adolescence, young and injured. You nursed it to health until its wings could carry its weight across the ether canvas. The next day, you’d seen a pack of hunting dogs and feathers across the field. You never took care of another wounded bird again.

You wondered if that were you, rising only to fall. It’d been years, yet the memory lingered. Would he only stay for as long as you were risen or would he be the genesis of your undoing?

Jungkook was infamous for all the wrong things yet loved for all the right ones. He was smart, diligent, outgoing – but he was also awkward, arrogant, and obsessive, only caring about his grades even if it meant putting his peers down and eating alone at breaks. He did internships and extracurriculars all day and studied until the break of dawn, but with every second that his rare attention was spent on you, your delusions that he was telling the truth about liking you grew bigger and bigger.

You were aware of all of this and still you fell into the depths of his being so completely that to let go of him would be to drown and never resurface. You didn’t believe that it was his intention to be so beguiling, but it didn’t stop him from entrapping you in the net that you had crafted yourself.

He liked you. Three words, he had said. Three beautiful words. When he looked at you like you were the answer to every question he had been asking the universe all his life, how were you supposed to want to let go? He said it once more against your lips. Then twice. Then thrice, until you no longer cared if you’d wake up the next day and find that only feathers remained. And so, you said those three words back, even if it would be the cause of your ruin.

You had no want for his reaction to your scarce genuinity. So when he inched away to confirm that he hadn’t misheard you, you pressed against him harder. “Did you-”

“Shut up,” you were quick to reply.

His tongue slipped between your lips. He sucked on the muscle as his once shy hands roamed behind you, squeezing your ass. Motivated by your soft groans, he ground his crotch against your front.

“I want you to fuck me,” you panted into his open mouth.

For a second, he stilled, as if shocked by the bluntness in which your words pierced him.

“You want that?” he tested the waters, resuming your kiss.

But you were impatient. “Please, Jungkook.”

“You really want our first time to be in a closet where anyone could hear us?”

“Yes,” you said. You wanted it. Needed it. “You could fuck me anywhere, I just need your cock in me now.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he groaned, unable to stop the jerking of his hips against you.

You smirked against his lips. “Really? Never thought my innocent little seatmate would be into this sort of thing.”

His eyes narrowed. “You really want me to prove it to you, huh?”

You played along. “I really don’t know what you mean.”

“You want me to treat you like the slut you are?” he teased. You shook, putty under his words. “You’re really sure?”

The dark rings in his eyes softened as he waited for your consent. His hands caressed the outside of your arms with a gentleness so sudden it gave you whiplash. Not that you needed his forbearance.

“Please, Jungkook, I want it.”

The heat between you returned at your panted answer. “You like being called what you are, huh?” The tone of his whisper made his voice that much more provocative.

“If I’m a slut, then what are you?” You eyed the marks on his neck with a grin.

He laughed as he dragged against your clothed core. His lips hovered over your own, smirking as you chased it when he pulled away. “You talk too much.” He tapped two fingers against your bottom lip. “Real sluts know what to do when I do this, don’t they?”

He pressed you harder against the door with his hips as you began to suck on his fingers. You had half a mind to tease him as he had teased you, but you had never been a patient person. Your tongue slobbered all over his digits as spit fell down your chin and onto your chest. You sucked and sucked; it rolled in your mouth the way you wanted to do to the cock rubbed against you. You humped him like a bitch in heat as his fingers reached as deep as they could in your mouth, trying to locate the spot that would make you gag.

He smirked at the sound when he found it. “Can’t even take my fingers? How is my cock ever going to fuck your warm throat?” His unoccupied hand applied pressure around your neck. You gasped at the new feeling and the delicious lightheadedness that came with it.

“Filthy slut, fucking some guy you barely know when you know I like you?” He grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. “Had to watch you act like a dumb whore just for some cock when you could’ve had mine so easily, baby. I had to fuck some random chick because of how hard your little outfit made me.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his clothed crotch. “You feel how hard I am? This is all for you.” He sighed. “Whoring yourself out for some other guy and not even offering me your services? I’m disappointed in you.”

The prior night had been a drunken blur, and you could barely recall how you grinded against the stranger you’d spent the evening with. Apparently, he had seen it all; how that other man had almost fucked you in the middle of the dance floor, lips pressed against your neck, fingers pinching your nipples through your top.

Jungkook grabbed your face. He squished your cheeks together until your mouth opened. His tongue swirled in his mouth to collect his spit. “Say ‘ah’,” he cooed, before dripping his saliva down your throat. He used his thumb to push back the bits of it that leaked from the corner of your lips. “Swallow.”

Your body burned as you swallowed both your pride and his fluids. He pried open your mouth after he watched your throat bob to ensure you had swallowed every last drop. “Messy slut,” he degraded.

His lips collided with yours once more. A nasty, wet kiss, that left your toes curling and lower stomach fluttering. He sucked on the skin all around your face, dragging his tongue back and forth as if claiming ownership over you in the messiest way possible. He suctioned his way to your collarbone, only stopping to help you out of your top.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned. “I’ve jerked off to you so many times – even when I was fucking someone else last night, I thought of you. Do you know how difficult it was not to moan your name? I can’t believe I finally get to taste you.”

“But I wanna taste you first.” You pushed him away to unbutton his shirt.

His defined abs were a surprise in itself, but they weren’t what caused you to gasp.

“Okay, I know now that you’re not my innocent little classmate, but I didn’t expect this.”

‘This’ being the two metal rods pierced through his nipples.

He snorted at your genuine reaction. “Yeah, yeah, geek in the streets, freak in the sheets,” he said. “Now, suck.”

You didn’t need his command to lower your head and place his pierced nipple between your lips. You lapped at the left peak, the cool metal resting on your tongue.

He only bothered to unbutton and lift his pants low enough to free his cock. It bounced against his stomach, rockhard and covered with pre-cum.

Jungkook was huge. And he knew it.

“You’re…” There were millions of words in the dictionary, yet none could describe how wanton he left you feeling. His hands gripped the base and tapped it against his stomach. A droplet of cum leaked down the side, and it took all your mental strength not to drop to your knees right then. “Can I please suck your cock?”

He pet your head. “You’re only an obedient puppy when you want something, hm? Bet you say that to all the other guys you whore yourself out to.”

He pushed on you until you fell to your knees. You kept your gaze on how he licked his lips and looked down on you, though it was difficult when his large cock swang near you like a meal to the starved. He slapped his dick around your cheeks and forehead, his pre-cum rubbing across your closed eyelids to your chin. He avoided your lips.

You thought yourself akin to Tantalus, a man cursed by Zeus to stand in a pool of water beneath a fruit tree with low branches; when he’d go to drink, the water would recede, and when he went to eat, the branch moved out of reach.

“How badly do you want my cock in your dumb whore mouth?”

“More than anything.” Your hands tightened around his thighs. He still wore all his clothes, and the image was as teasing as the cock he continued to slap you with. “Only need you.”

“Oh, I know that, baby,” he said. “The question is whether you’re a good enough whore to deserve it.”

“Please let this whore suck your large cock,” you begged, taking a page from his book and staring up at him with puppy-dog eyes, mewling against his leg. “I’m just a dumb bimbo willing to do anything for cock.”

He, finally, tapped his length against your lips. You waited for his command before you licked the head, scared he’d retreat if you didn’t obey him.

“Open,” he said. A word you’d never been happier to hear.

Prepared now for his length, you held in your need to gag as you slid him down. His brow raised, impressed. “You must’ve taken a lot of cock down this throat, you’re too good at this.”

Deeper and deeper, he went. You winked when your lips met the base of it.

“You’re too fucking good, bet you have a line of guys dreaming about your pretty lips wrapped around them.” His hand pushed and pulled you harder, treating you as nothing more than a toy thats only purpose was to suck cock. “Do you know how my friends talk about you? They think you’re so pretty, baby. I can’t even blame them for talking about how much they wanna fuck you. Turn you into their cockslut. They’re so jealous that I get to see your cute face everyday. Of course, it’s not only your face that I look at.”

With the way your arousal increased with his every thrust, it was as if your mouth was connected to your hole.

The room filled with his heavy breathing. He bit his fist to keep quiet, conscious of the noise that continued to permeate the hallway a door away. You whined when he threw his head back, no longer able to watch how his skin pinked and his pupils widened at your ministrations.

Jungkook was ethereal, using your face as a glorified hole for his pleasure.

“Doesn’t take much to turn you into a cockslut, does it?” He pulled you to your feet, ignoring your complaints of wanting him back in your mouth. “You’re so easy that it’s almost boring.”

Every word out of his mouth made your core clench.

He turned you to face the wall and pulled your bottoms off to have access to your hole. You jumped when he lightly spanked your center.

When he noticed the ceiling hook directly above you, he grinned. “Lift your arms, slut.”

Your back to him, you couldn’t see how he grabbed one of your clothes and used it to tie your wrists to the hook. He adjusted it until he deemed you comfortable enough.

He pinched your ass, spreading your cheeks to reveal your winking hole. “Such a slutty fucking hole, all for me, isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you said. “All for you, only you.”

“You probably don’t even need to be prepped, huh? Sluts are always ready.”

Still, he sat down on his calves and began to trace you with the rough pads of his fingers. His other hand held onto your hips as you began to buck around, the touch so teasing that it left you desperate for more.

You were no stranger to sex and the pleasure that came with it, yet Jungkook’s touch felt so different from all the others you’ve been with. Even your own hands, hands that knew your body better than anyone else, paled in comparison to his teasing movements. He would give you just enough of what you needed before retreating, leaving your body in a constant tug and pull of ecstasy and wanting.

And then his lips. Plush and soft. He kissed around you before diving in, his tongue making a home for itself in you. The muscle wiggled around to touch your tight walls.

“I knew it,” he groaned, losing himself in you. “You taste so fucking good.”

Wads of his spit were shoved into you with his fingers. He would gather his saliva and finger it as deep as he could, repeating the process until you were overflowing. It wasn’t even that he was prepping you, you realized, he just loved turning you into a messy slut covered in him.

He spat onto your ass once more, massaging it into your skin.

“I’d ask if you were ready for my cock, but I know you are,” he said, pressing his chest onto your back and rubbing his length down your crack.

“I need it.” You rubbed your ass against his crotch, enticing him to fuck you full.

So, he did.

“It slid right in,” he moaned. “Do I have to thank whoever fucked you last night for loosening you up for me?”

You wanted to watch him, but the knots above you were too tight to turn. All you could do was hang pliant, nothing but a body to be used for Jungkook. After all his teasing, he didn’t wait for you to adjust to his ginormous length before bottoming out. His pace was rapid as he jackhammered into you.

Your mouth hung open, brain emptied in pleasure.

“I’m gonna need you to be quiet, baby,” he whispered in your ear. “Wanna be a good slut for me and keep that whore mouth shut, hm?”

You’d been left drunk by his words alone, the consonants and vowels swirled in your mind until all you could think of was the shaft that dragged against your insides. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“Nothing but a dumb little fuckhole for me to breed, isn’t that right?”

It became more difficult with every thrust to hold back your moans without hands to bite on.

“You like that?” He delivered a harsh thrust into you. “Want to be nothing but a cumdump? Gonna make you take all my cum, have it dripping down your thighs as you walk home, forced to think of me fucking you every step of the way there.”

“Fuck,” you hiss. “Feels so good.”

“Did I say you could speak?”

You whined when his cock slipped out, fearful that he might leave you unfinished. Instead, he rustled through your fallen clothes on the floor. When he stood, you had a suspicion of what came next.

He shoved the wad of lace into your parted lips.

“Snap your fingers twice if you want out, okay?”

He slid his cock back into you, moving at a slower pace this time. He would pull out until only his head remained, before violently shoving back in until his balls pounded onto your ass.

“I think I like you better like this,” he smirked as he tugged your chin to face him. He angled your face side-to-side, as one would inspect goods in a market. After a moment, he nodded in approval. You could imagine what he saw: a slut with snot dripping from their nose, tears raining from their eyes, and new marks littering their neck replacing the ones before it. “You know what I’d do if you were mine?” He sniffed your neck, hot breath tickling your skin.

Your head shook.

“I’d fuck your pretty ass until it’s dripping with my cum. Would plug you up and have you walk around and attend class, feeling all of my seed in your belly with every little movement you make. You wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything without my help, hm, baby? I’d turn you into a dumb little bimbo who needs me for even the littlest tasks.” Your eyes rolled at the purr of his tone as he whispered every single thing he’d do to you against the lobe of your ear. “Good sluts take whatever I give them.”

“I need that so bad,” your voice came out muffled from beneath the fabric. You wanted to tug your wrists from where he’d tied them above you and feel his skin beneath your palms.

He caressed your nape with a condescending laugh. “I know you do. I’d train you to be the perfect cumdump. My cumdump. Would have you wearing the shortest clothes and bend you over every surface so that everyone passing by could see your messy hole. And you’d love it, wouldn’t you? Would love everyone watching you, knowing that I’m the only one allowed to touch you… until I ask my friends to play with you, of course. I’m not that selfish.” You tightened around him. “Oh, you’d love to be passed around and gang-banged. You’d be so filled up with cum that your stomach would bloat.”

Clearly, he had an exhibitionist streak (among a plethora of other kinks). Something you should’ve guessed by how quickly his pants tented when you suggested fucking in a closet. Evidently, you had the same streak, if your clenched slit had anything to say for it.

“You’re so fucking tight. I never wanna leave this hole.”

You were thankful he had stuffed your ruined panties in your mouth lest he heard your mindless babbles as you neared your climax.

His hips began to thrust even faster than you would’ve thought possible. Your heart spiked as each motion made noise loud enough for the outside to hear – but you could no longer care, lost in the sensations of his hard cock belitting you into nothing more than a hole to fuck.

“You take my cock so easily. Didn’t even need much prep. You’re just a common whore, aren’t you?”

You feverishly nodded.

He reached around you to remove the wad of cotton from your mouth. “Where do you want my cum?” he groaned, the words rushing from his lips as he chased his climax.

“In me,” you cried into your shoulder, barely conscious enough to not want to get caught. “I need you to fill me with your seed.”

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re so hot, you know that? Could fuck you for the rest of my life.”

In and out. In and out. His hips moved so swiftly that you could no longer think, sufficiently dick-drunk. He no longer cared about pacing, simply using you as a doll to get off.

“I want you to cum with me,” he said. His dominant demeanor faded as he desperately clung onto every inch of your skin, hand roaming your sides as he chased his end. His fingers began tugging at your nipples roughly, urging you to reach the finale with him. His words were breathlessly rushed as if they fell from his lips without thought: “Need you to cum, need to feel you cum around me. Shit. You look so pretty fucked out. Such a good slut for me. You’re doing so good, baby.”

Your orgasm crashed against you like a tidal wave, unexpected and violent. Your body thrashed against your binds, hips jerking back and forth as pleasure overtook you - possessed you, almost. Your hole pulsed against his cock, tightening around the length as fluids overflowed.

He jerked into you once more, his cum painting your insides. Soft expletives fell from his lips between praises as he gently rocked his hips into you to ensure his cum wouldn’t spill.

The sensation of his cock slipping out of you felt like heaven and sin.

You hadn’t orgasmed so destructively in… you couldn’t remember having ever experienced anything that came close to that. You weren’t certain if it was because of the risk of getting caught or because Jungkook was that good. Perhaps, it was a mix of both.

You shook at the binds above you, tired from your orgasm.

He wasn’t quite finished, however.

You waited, confused, until you felt his tongue lap your hole, sucking his cum out of you. Sensitive, your feet kicked at him to stop, but he was relentless in his mission to fill his mouth with his own seed.

Your stomach curled at the mischievous glint in his eyes as he stood. He pried your mouth open with his fingers before depositing all of his saliva-mixed cum onto your tongue. “Don’t swallow yet, baby.”

He leaned on your body with a softness that matched his gaze, his hand resting on your hip, his chest on your back. His fingers played with the fluids in your mouth, swirling it with your spit until it combined into a mess that ran down your chin (which he licked up and spat back in). Content, he finally commanded you to swallow.

The thick concoction ran down your throat slowly, becoming a part of you. You groaned at the heady sensation alongside Jungkook’s pliant kisses around your nape.

He gently untied your wrists from the hook, rubbing the skin from any soreness. When he was done, he rocked your tired body back-and-forth to soothe you. You crumpled onto his figure as if your bones had disintegrated to dust.

“We… We really just did that.” Jungkook had finally come back to himself, doe eyes widened as if he had broken from a spell. “Are you alright?”

You laughed breathlessly. “Yeah, you?”

He nodded, scratching at his nape.

The next few minutes consisted of an awkward dance, the pair of you picking up your clothes, constantly stumbling against each other in the process. Each time, Jungkook would avert his gaze to the ceiling or the floor – whatever he could do to give you privacy in the confined quarters of a storage closet. The silence was so thick that to distort it with words felt unnatural. He only spoke to tell you that the hallway was quiet, no longer occupied by the residents of the house, and that you were both free to leave unnoticed.

Even the goodbye was stilted, as if you had been possessed by beings other than yourselves during the incident and were now left to deal with the consequences.

Under the morning light outside, Jungkook flushed as red as a polluted sunset. He gingerly waved from where he stood, making sure that you got into your Uber safely (only after nagging the driver to escort you with utmost caution). Your lips parted, but the words wouldn’t surface. Instead, you settled for a wave back.

A smile cracked on his lips as he watched your car hug the corner of the street and disappear from view.

The next time you saw Jungkook was during a lecture. His glasses were back on his face, sweater vest tucked into his trousers. He looked nothing like the man who had fucked you dumb the weekend before, back to being the epitome of what you’d expect every nerd who took college too seriously to look like.

You took your usual seat beside him, unsure if bringing it up casually would make him uncomfortable. Already, his cheeks and ears were red, and you could almost feel the heat radiating off of them.

You exchanged shy greetings before returning to your individual tasks: him, pretending to rewrite notes (when really he was doodling on the corners of his notebook), and you, pretending to send a text (when really you were swiping your homescreen back and forth).

He shot you furtive glances when he thought you weren’t looking. His fingers drummed against the table and his knee shook as if he was working up the courage to say anything. Gone was the boy who had had all the words ready in the palm of his hand that morning.

“Hey,” you smiled. “Did you start on the final project already?”

His head whipped towards you, wide eyes and parted lips telling you he hadn’t expected you to make the first move, perhaps content to fester in the ruined classmate relationship after your somewhat strained goodbye post-rendezvous. How does one act after confessing your feelings and subsequently fucking in a closet? You knew how to react to hook-ups, and you knew how to react to confessions, but both? At the same time? Your head spun.

“I- That-” He struggled to gather his words as each consonant slipped through his fingers like fine sand. He, a past valedictorian, had been left dumb. “I did,” he croaked out. “You?”

“Of course, you did.” You laughed, the sound more metallic than you’d intended. “I’m gonna start next week.”

“Cool,” Jungkook replied.

The silence thickened the air between you like smog. The minute stretched on for forever, the pair of you waiting for the other to break the silence first in an unannounced game of chicken.

“I just-” “I don’t-”

Your voices overlapped each other, causing you to exchange awkward grins.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Can I start?”

You told him to go ahead.

“I just wanted you to know that I meant what I said about liking you.” He rubbed his nape. “I didn’t mean for what happened to happen, but I don’t regret it.”

His gaze burned into your own as if he were searching for any clues as to what you felt. It was terrifying, the sincerity in which it pierced you. But you had no want to run from it. Not anymore.

“I don’t regret it, either,” you said. “Plus, that might’ve been one of the hottest hook-ups I’ve ever had.”

He blushed. “And about the ‘me liking you’ part?”

You dragged your chair closer to his. “After the way you treated me, how could I not?”

It took him a moment to compose himself, back ramrod straight as goosebumps ran down his arms at the turn he hadn’t expected the conversation to take. He anxiously glanced at the row behind where you two sat, teeth biting into his bottom lip in a way you found infatuating. You were thankful to every god out there that he had been caught in traffic that first day and forced to sit in the back row beside you. Jungkook, who had been nothing more than a cute, grade-conscious stranger at the time.

The minute it took for him to steel his nerves was worth it, you found out.

Just in time, the professor walked through the door and began taking attendance. You were so focused on waiting that you jumped when Jungkook’s hand began trailing up and down your thigh.

Your eyes widened.

“Did you really like it?” he whispered.

“Like what?”

“The way I treated you.”

There were thousands of ways you could’ve affirmed his statement, but you settled for a nod.

His hand moved up your inner thigh, nearing your crotch. The upward jerk of your hips caused a satisfied smirk to settle on his lips. “If you want to continue being my good pet, then don’t make a sound.”

So enthralled were you in his touch that you hadn’t realized that your professor had called you. Twice.

“Present,” you yelled, embarrassed by the startled shakiness in your tone.

“Good pet,” he praised, rubbing harder through your clothes. “You want more?”

Jungkook licked his fingers with a nymph gaze. With his free hand, he unbuttoned your pants.

Paranoid, you glanced around the lecture hall.

“Don’t kid yourself,” his low tone caused goosebumps to run across your arms. “I know a common whore like you wants to be stared at while being used.”

His hand dipped into your underwear, moving directly to your hole. He rubbed the area around it before inserting a finger into you, deliciously wiggling it around. His spit allowed it to smoothly enter you with a soft ‘squish’.

In front, the lesson had begun. Not that you could pay attention. Your focus zeroed in on the intoxicating slowness in which Jungkook made a toy out of you, hand moving back and forth.

“Can someone please read the first section on page 130?”

You froze as your professor began glancing up and down the rows in search of a prospect, disappointed at the disinterested gazes of her students. This would be the time that, like clockwork, Jungkook’s arm would raise. And yet it stayed, connected to you below the table.

A historical moment: Jungkook not volunteering.

Instead, he did something entirely different.

You gasped when he grabbed your arm and made you raise your hand.

“Great,” the professor acknowledged you, gesturing you to begin.

You quickly flipped through the pages, hands shaking when you realized that Jungkook wouldn’t stop. If anything he began to finger you faster, hitting the area that caused spots to cloud your vision.

Your voice shook as you read out the passage. Scattered letters chased each other on the page; your eyes raced to keep up with them. Had the words always been so small?

Jungkook had fingered you dumb enough to forget how to read.

“Though scholars believed that–” He pushed his fingers directly against your most sensitive spot. “–That, um, though they believed that–”

You accidentally made eye contact with a few of your classmates, their impatience with your slow pace making it hard for you to wring the words into sentences. Your voice came out breathy yet stilted, guttural stops after every few words.

When you finished the section, you leaned against the back of your chair in relief as the class resumed. Jungkook, however, was a stranger to giving you breaks, simply speeding his ministrations.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach heightened the faster he went. Your eyes bounced around the nearby rows to check if anyone noticed the slight creaking sound that came from this new speed, but were reassured to find that everyone was busy analyzing a chart on the projector.

When you turned to face him, you were pleased to find that half of his notes were in scribbles. You’d be quite offended if your tightness around his fingers weren’t at least a bit of a distraction to the star pupil. You had half a mind to joke about fucking one of your classmates to borrow their notes to lend to him just so that he’d jealousy-fuck you the moment class dismissed. You were just about to when you felt it – that tell-tale tightening.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, your legs beginning to shake. “I’m coming.”

His lips brushed against the lobe of your ear. “Cum for me then, slut.”

You breathed so heavily from holding back your moans that you became lightheaded, lost in the euphoria of your danger-filled release. The world was but a blur as you crumpled into your seat exhausted. You hadn’t even realized how Jungkook’s fingers slipped out of you, nor how he buttoned you up and kissed your forehead.

Above, the bell ringing signalled the end of the class, alongside the routine sounds of chairs scraping against hardwood floors and stationary being stuffed into totes and backpacks.

The two of you were left alone in the classroom, eyes finding one another in the solitude.

You grinned, still in a daze. “There isn’t a CCTV in here, right?”

He moved you onto the desk, hands gripping your hips. “Even if there was, would you care?”

And the answer was ‘no’, you didn’t. As long as you were wrapped in your seatmate’s warmth and greeted with his shy yet teasing smiles, you wouldn’t have cared where he touched you. What could’ve been a one morning stand began a series of trysts both public and private, and you both wouldn’t have had it any other way.

thank u for reading!! <3 if u liked it let me know ! : ✉

© rendaze 2021. all rights reserved. copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.

this is how you fall in love | jjk

(banner made by me. do not steal or repost. not for personal use. / minors dni.)

— pairing: jungkook x f!reader

— genre: rockstar au, established relationship, fluff, smut, light angst

— summary: After years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, Jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

— playlist: listen here <3

— warnings: not-so-linear storytelling, my attempt at writing soft giggly sex 🤭, slight sub!jungkook, big dicc!jungkook, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, brief cockwarming, hint of exhibitionism kink if you quint 👀, mentions of insecurities and anxiety. i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything

— word count: approximately 9.3k (i thought it was gonna be 11-12k at one point lol)

— note: here she is, my first proper oneshot !!! the title is from jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler’s song ‘this is how you fall in love’ lol how creative, but you should listen to it while reading this bc i feel like it sorta adds to the experience. also my first time writing smut lmao bear w me 😫 anyhoo this jk in particular is so special to me i enjoyed writing this so much !! btw it’s not as edited as i would like but oh well lol

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Jungkook commands the attention of every room he walks into; and just like right now, he’s basking in all the attention, all the screams of his name from dozens of girls and boys alike in this packed bar. You knew he was a charmer since you first met him, and you had known from the start that no matter how hard you try to resist, you would succumb to him eventually.

Sometimes, you feel as though he doesn’t belong to you—he can’t possibly, right? Not when people are shouting along to every word falling from his lips and you are… well, you’re just you. He’s destined for the world, for bigger things than just your two-bedroom apartment. Loving him is a privilege, and the thing about privileges is they can be taken away.

Keep reading

Black & White

Pair: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Slight Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count: 24.7k

Summary: You finally confessed to Yoongi after he asked if you like him. His response is to give you a contract to sign. However, you soon realize that Yoongi manufactured your emotions and manipulated you to like him all for the sake of his senior project.

“(Y/N), can I have a word with you?” Yoongi calls out to you after class.

You can feel your heartbeat skyrocket the moment Yoongi said your name. You shot up from your seat, ears turning red just at the thought that Yoongi wants to talk to you. The other classmates don’t seem to care as much as you do, but right now, Yoongi is all that matters. And he needs you.

You haven’t been talking to Yoongi much. In fact, it’s only been recent that you met him. He decided to take the same art history course as you, despite being a sociology major, so you can only assume that he’s taking this to get rid of his general class requirements. Though the reason is vague, Yoongi has been talking to you since the first day of the semester, and as time went on, you couldn’t help but develop feelings for him.

You can’t quite put your finger on it, but there’s something about Yoongi that you really like. Perhaps it may be because of how fair his skin is, being as pale as the moon, or it could also be his smooth, slender hands that complements his lean body figure. But personality wise, it could be his intelligence that you find attractive. Every time he talks to you, he always sounds so smart, every statement he makes has facts to back it up. Everything about him is the opposite of you—he has everything that you’ve always wanted.

You follow Yoongi from behind, feeling too timid to raise your head up. All you can do is stare at your own feet as you follow Yoongi to wherever he’s taking you. The two of you are surrounded with sounds of a lively college campus—students scurrying to their next class on their bikes or scooters, professors with their briefcases, and even a few young parents taking their toddlers on a walk on campus. This is a perfect scenario to be in under the rising summer weather.

Keep reading

our little private love affair | jjk; masterlist

plot | You and Jungkook have been dating for almost two years now. It sounds normal and great except you two have been keeping it behind everyone’s back.  A bunch of scenarios happens as you and Jungkook tries to keep your relationship in private.

genres | fluff, angst, crack, smut, secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au

pairing | jungkook x reader

note | just a bunch of drabbles/scenarios. there’s a big chance that these didn’t happen in order. below are the titles/prompts. drabbles will be posted in a random order. asks are open :))

main masterlist

dogs can keep secrets, right?  — You and Jungkook decided to adopt a dog. When your friends met your dog for the first time, they cannot help but to notice how Bam and Jungkook became close pretty much quickly. 

blind date  —  With the knowledge of you being single, your best friend tries to convince you into a blind date. All while your secret boyfriend watched as you rejected the idea.

new year’s eve tradition  —   How you and Jungkook got together before the secret relationship.

the morning after  —   It’s new year’s day. As you and Jungkook talks about last night, an unexpected visitor came.

sunshower  —   Just a water fight with your boyfriend and dog during the blazing heat.

sick day  —  After having a spontaneous water fight with your dog and boyfriend, you ended up sick. Jungkook takes care of you as you tried to keep your distance.

(i’ll add more soon)

Keep reading

esse tuus | pjm

esse tuus (latin) ↳ translation: to be yours

synopsis: You’ve been plagued by dreams of your boss ever since you started working for him to the point where you’re unable to “play” with anybody else. Frustration and possible lack of sleep has you feeling lethargic, to a point where you find yourself falling asleep at work, but little do you know that someone is behind it all.

part of the dulce somnii universe.

pairing: jimin x reader

wc: 9.8k

genre/au/rating: 18+ | incubus, office au, f2l | S, F

warnings: minor descriptions of injury, oral (f. receiving), fingering, heaps of feelings, orgasm denial/delay, sex dreams? name-calling, degradation, praise kink

lil note: happy birthday jimin <3 and happy halloween!

listening to: serendipity

m.list | ao3

The night sky only darkens with the evidence of rain. With most of its denizens asleep, the city winds down quietly while it waits for the storm to pass. Two men stand in the middle of the downpour, two sets of eyes staring at the same window – the third-floor apartment belonging to a woman, the only one awake in the otherwise quiet night. They’re silent, waiting with bated breath for the lights to turn off, so that no one could listen into their conversation, despite them surrounded by a powerful aura that shrouds their identities while wicking away the rain to keep their coats dry. As they say, you can’t be too careful when the walls have ears.

When the final inhabitant of the city surrenders to the call of sleep, their conversation begins.

“That’s her.” It isn’t a question, but Jimin nods in confirmation. “How long?” his companion asks, his deep voice clear despite the thundering stampede of rain colliding with the asphalt around them.

“Ever since I’ve known her,” Jimin replies wistfully. “Five years now.”

“I mean, aren’t you the same way? Isn’t that why you haven’t changed your form in nearly two years now?” he questions his tall companion curiously. “Surely that girl you were toying with is under your control by now, right? Why not move on to a different target, Tae?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer him immediately, the glare he throws at Jimin a sufficient reply. “It’s different,” he sighs after a heartbeat. “I don’t love her; I just need her to feed – to survive.”

“Bullshit,” Jimin counters with a roll of his eyes. “Pretend all you want, but you can’t fool me. I know the way you talk about her when you’re drunk.”

“It’s different,” Taehyung insists with a growl. Seizing Jimin’s shoulders, Taehyung’s golden eyes glint with irritation under the dim streetlight. “Because I’m not willing to give up my life for her… Unlike you,” he spits as he shakes his head. “I want you to think carefully about this. Are you sure you’re willing to give up your immortality, and eventually your powers, for a mere mortal?”

Jimin laughs, loud enough that it would normally wake everyone in the neighbourhood, but his powers have given him a gift of anonymity, so the sound is merely carried away by the wind. Instead of staring into the gilded eyes of his friend that mirrors the storm around them, he looks up at the darkened room again.

With a graceful smile, he peels Taehyung’s hands away from his shoulders before turning away to leave, away from this dreaded weather. Indifferent about whether Taehyung could hear him, Jimin’s ruby eyes twinkle as he grins, “Oh, I have never been surer.”

---

You’re not sure when the dreams started, but it was shortly after you started working under the new CEO, Park Jimin. They weren’t so frequent before, maybe happening about once or twice every couple of months with you recollecting bits and pieces come morning. Now, not only were the dreams occurring nightly, you’re left with an uncomfortable mess in the morning – made evident by the growing wet puddle soaking your sheets, but also the way you can no longer look at your boss without heat flaming your cheeks.

When you confide your issue with a good friend of yours, she only gave you a weird look, telling you that the dreams were attributed to the fact that: (a) your boss is fine as hell; and (b) the stress that’s been accumulating with the mountain of tasks he’s assigned to you.

“If you want my opinion, I think you just need to get laid,” Jessie scoffs with a roll of her eyes.

Heeding her advice, you donned on your battle armour that consisted of a dark-red dress with a plunging neckline. You’ve been blessed that night with an array of beautiful men who vied for your attention, but even after deciding to go home with the mysterious soft-spoken one whose arm was covered in tattoos, you couldn’t go through with it.

It’s not that he was bad in bed either. The raven-haired boy had kissed you like there was no tomorrow, sending your nerves aflame as you reciprocated his passion. But, as you closed your eyes in pleasure when he laid you down on his bed, his visage was replaced by a certain blonde CEO. And the wonderful night that seemed so promising ended up with you apologizing profusely in embarrassment before speeding away from the mystery man’s apartment at 2am.

Rain has graced the earth more often lately, so by the time you reach your apartment in the outskirts of the city, you’re drenched, adding another tick of irritation to the already shitty night. After you finished towelling your hair dry, you decided that it’s time to sleep, and when you drifted into the abyssal darkness, you hoped that your dreams weren’t plagued by a familiar swoop of blonde hair.

---

The room spins as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. There’s a hand on your shoulder that shakes you gently, but try as you might, the pounding in your head makes it impossible for you to keep your eyes open long enough to distinguish its owner.

“Breathe,” says a familiar voice. “It’ll go away if you just breathe.”

You do as the voice suggests, inhaling deeply while screwing your eyes shut, in hopes that it will drown out the ringing in your ears. Something soft glides across your eyelids and like magic, silence returns, a trusty companion.

Gingerly, you open an eye before wincing at the harsh fluorescent light. You blink a few times to allow your eyes to adjust to the brightness before finding yourself in the file room of your office, with steel shelves stacked with various kinds of blue binders, each containing reports of the company’s financial burdens and achievements through the years.

And in front of you, tie askew and flushed in the face, is your boss; the one and only Park Jimin.

He has you pressed up against a file cabinet, caging your body between two strong arms, white sleeves rolled to the elbows. You notice the hint of ink on the corner of your eye – a 13 on his wrist. You open your mouth to ask him about its significance, only to close it back up when his face looms closer.

Before your brain has a chance to register what’s happening, Park Jimin kisses you.

He kisses you with urgency, but not with haste – undoing you with every sweep of his plush lips against yours.

Though it takes you a moment, you pull him closer by his tie, earning you the familiar quiet chuckle that speeds your heart rate, and you too, kiss him back with fervour. Even when the inches between your bodies fall to zero, you want him to be closer still. And when he parts, you feel the ache of being torn apart. Your hands fall to his chest, the desire to rip the buttons off his white dress-shirt grows stronger with every second that passes as you study the swell of his lips, wet with saliva, glinting in the light.

“Do it.”

It takes you a second to register his words, but when your brain deciphers his meaning, your hands tighten their grip, wrinkling the white cotton fabric. With a heavy inhale, you yank. The buttons don’t fly off and clatter to the ground like in movies, but your strength did cause a few to strain against their threads. You run your hands down the expanse of Jimin’s chest as he shivers under your touch. You look up to see a marvel stand before you; one where his eyes are closed, and pretty mouth slightly parted to accommodate his staccato breathing.

“Kiss me.” Your words seem to be carried away with the hum of air conditioning, but before you have a chance to repeat yourself, Jimin slams into you, tangling his hand in your hair to tighten the hold he has on your head.

The cabinet clatters as he pairs the kisses with a buck of his hips, dragging his clothed erection up to your core; and you moan, your voice foreign in your own ears. You beg him for more as his nose trails the column of your throat, your own impatient hands fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

“Patience, my dear,” Jimin chides playfully. He puts a stop to your unsuccessful efforts by claiming your hands, kissing the knuckles with a smirk. You’re left stricken when his eyes meet yours, hypnotized by the ruby irises that stare deep into your soul.

“Your eyes… Were they… always that colour?” you mumble with a tongue that weighs like lead, but the fog descends on your mind again, rendering you incapable of speech.

“Ah!” you screech. The sudden high-pitch ring returns to block your senses and you cover your ears tightly to try and shake it off. From the din, you hear Jimin call your name desperately, but the pain is too great, and soon, you’re unable to see as a bright light consumes your vision—

Until you sense the same gentle swipe against your closed lids and the searing pain disappears, as though you imagined it all. When you open your eyes again, Jimin’s frowning. You try to remember the last few moments before the pain, only to draw a blank. Have you done something to upset him?

“Are you okay?” There’s a thin sheen of sweat above his brows and you reach out to wipe it away with your sleeve.

“I am,” he whispers despite the obviously pained smile. “But what were you saying?”

“Hm? I only asked if you were okay, sir,” you say hesitantly. Jimin’s acting strangely, ruby irises scouring your face desperately for an answer, but you’re not sure you know the questions to the test he’s given you.

“You were about to say something about my eyes,” he says slowly, evenly, like he’s explaining something to a child.

Your brows furrow. “I was?”

Jimin nods.

“I… don’t remember,” you admit with a shake of your head. Blinking at him now, you wonder why you would make such a comment – if you did. There isn’t anything wrong with his eyes. They’re the usual ruby red, flashing brightly against the light… right?

Yet, you can’t shed the nagging tug, the insistent voice in your brain that’s telling you that something’s wrong, but just as the low throb begins again, Jimin smiles sweetly, like he always does, and you feel at ease. A gentle brush of his knuckles against your cheek silences the part of your brain that’s trying to rationalize everything.

And when his lips return to glide against yours, you don’t remember what it was you were worried about.

“Oh—” You gasp into the kiss as his hand trails shapes on the skin of your thighs. Jimin takes the opportunity to kiss you deeper, swiping his tongue over your own. While you tangle your fingers in his hair, he hikes up your skirt and cups his hand over your pussy before he grinds your clit with the heel of his palm.

“Jimin—” Your fingers dig into his neck as you roll your hips into his hand. All of it is too little and too much, you’re unravelling too quickly – burning like a comet as you hurtle into his atmosphere.

Yet Jimin doesn’t stop, refuses to comply though you sob for his fingers; his cock; anything – to satiate the unbearable need to be filled. You claw at his arms, unable to fret over the long red lines you draw across the expanse of his skin. And just when you think you can no longer hang on, Jimin stops, a regretful smile on his face.

“What a shame. That’s all the time we have for now.”

---

“Holy shit!”

You’re up immediately, Jimin’s words still ringing in your ear. You swear you could still feel his hot breath against your skin, as though he was here the night before, but the absence of a warm body next to you signifies that last night was all but a dream.

Yet… it was so much more real than the ones prior.

Usually, you’d wake up recalling just the barest of details: Jimin’s lips curling into a smile or the way he’d coo your name as he draws patterns on your skin. But this time… you remembered everything; your mind highlighting every mole on his perfect porcelain face.

You wanted nothing more than to soothe the ache from between your legs but glancing at the wall clock on the opposite end of your bed suggests that you won’t have time to bring out Mr. Rabbit to play, considering that you have about 15 minutes to get ready before you miss the bus. With a regretful sigh, you left the warm comfort of your bed to brave the day.

---

“Good morning!”

Despite the enthusiastic chatter you’re engaging with your co-workers, you feel anything but. You’re still reeling from the dream, unable to stop recalling the way Jimin’s cool fingers brush against your blazing skin. You leave the pantry with a steaming cup of coffee and a heaving sigh before settling down to work.

Your calendar is full of reds and greens, indicating meetings that Jimin must attend and the ones you must attend with him respectively. A secretary to the CEO is a task that would normally require two people, but ever since your partner left, you’ve been left to work the pace of two people. Though Jimin has suggested that you hire a second person, you have refused, claiming that you’re saving the company resources since you’re capable of doing the tasks just fine on your own. Being so close to Jimin fills you with pride, especially knowing how much he relies on you to keep things running smoothly.

Fortunately, it also comes with you receiving a significant raise, much more than what you’d originally entered with. You have no doubt Jimin is to thank for that, having convinced the Chairman in a meeting to renegotiate the contract. Speaking of your boss, the time on the lower right corner of your screen indicates that he’s late – something that has never happened before in your five years of working together.

Just as your thumb hovers over the green call button, Jimin enters with a brilliant smile, greeting everyone and asking about their weekend. You’re almost annoyed at the way he nonchalantly enters through the door, acting like it doesn’t matter that he’s a few minutes late just because he’s the boss, but mostly because it isn’t fair that he’s doing just fine when you’re left stunned in your shoes; the memories of the dream lingering in the forefront of your mind when your gaze drops to his hands.

You snap to attention as he approaches, slipping on a mask of professionalism as you greet him. “Good morning, Mr. Park. You have a nine o’clock this morning and another one at eleven. Should I bring you the coffee now or in a little bit?”

As Jimin enters his office, he gives you a noncommittal hum, so you follow him inside and close the door behind you, sensing that there’s something in his mind.

“That skirt looks good on you,” he praises with a smile before settling in his desk.

You’re left momentarily speechless, surprised at the sudden compliment. You nod your head in thanks, one Jimin returns with another quirk of his lips. As you stand there in silence as he pulls up his laptop, you allow yourself to admire Jimin in the morning light.

You’d be remiss to say that he isn’t handsome. Everyone in the office, including yourself, may have pined for the young CEO’s attention once or twice since his arrival a few years ago, but you don’t delude yourself into thinking that the harmless banter between you was anything more than friendship. However, it’s moments like these, where he’d catch you off guard with his compliments, that has your heart thumping a little bit faster in response to his honeyed words.

He says your name with a chuckle. “Have I lost you already?” he smiles. You clear your throat and shake your head, stumbling out apologies for daydreaming at work, but Jimin only smiles wider, drumming his fingers on the oak table below.

“Please tell me if you’re not feeling well. Don’t make me worry,” he nags lightly.

You force a bright smile to hide your embarrassment. “I’m feeling just fine, Mr. Park. Better than ever,” you reassure him. “Sorry for spacing out, what were you saying?”

You catch the slight frown on his pouty lips and the strange shadow that flickers in his eyes, the obsidian melting into soft earth under the sun—

Wait a minute.

“Were your eyes always brown?” you blurt out, tilting your head to the side.

Jimin blinks in surprise, lips parted as he inhales sharply at your question. “I’m… sorry?” he mutters incredulously.

Silence.

There’s a creeping feeling of déjà vu as you’re unable to tear your eyes away from his. Something is amiss in this image in front of you, but you haven’t figured it out just yet.

Then, a chuckle, though it sounds strained and airy as Jimin breaks through your thoughts. “Of course, my eyes are brown. What other colours could they possibly be?”

An unpleasant fog descends on your mind, and you close your eyes momentarily to see if it’ll go away. When it doesn’t, your heart increases its speed instead, you offer him a pinched smile before turning to leave. You’re more tired than usual it seems, standing is starting to become impossible. You hope that a few hours of sitting at your desk would make you feel better.

“Right. Of course. My apologies, sir. Well, if you’ll excuse me…”

Just as you turn around to grab the handle of the door, your vision turns hazy, the images blurring together like remnants from your dreams. You try to blink through the fog, but the more you attempt to push through, the heavier your lids fall. Whatever Jimin is muttering is muffled in your ears, the language sounding foreign like he’s communicating underwater. When you turn around and see him stand, approaching your helpless swaying figure, he’s nothing more than a dark silhouette.

Before you descend into darkness, you think you saw a pair of ruby eyes and a voice, so full of regret, whispers in your ear.

“Sleep now, you’ll feel better when you wake up. I promise.”

---

When you finally blink awake, there’s a black jacket covering your body. It takes you a few seconds to register that you’re lying on a semi-familiar sectional, and you scramble to stand when you recognize the numerous awards decorating the wall in front of you.

The sun casts hues of oranges and yellow from the large window into Jimin’s office and you watch in horror as the door opens to reveal your boss walking inside with a mug in hand.

“Mr. Park! I…” You don’t have an excuse ready for what happened: how you dozed off on his couch for an entire workday.

Jimin holds up a hand to stop your floundering speech. Instead of fury, worry exists in the lines of his brows as he approaches your seated figure. “You should have told me that you weren’t feeling well,” he murmurs gently as he hands you the mug of steaming hot tea. “I’m sorry. I really should have hired a new partner for you when Soyoung quit.”

“N-No. Not at all. I’m sorry for making you worry.”

To your pleasant surprise, he smiles. “No, please. Don’t apologize. As your manager, I’m taking responsibility for going against the company policy. Your job is meant for two people, and though you’ve done a stellar job so far, this only proves that we need to hire someone else.”

Jimin wouldn’t dig at your work ethic like that, you know it better than anyone that it wasn’t what he meant, but you still feel like you disappointed him. You let your heart sink for a few minutes before picking it back up, a new fire of ambition surging behind your eyes. “Mr. Park, if I may be so bold, today is an anomaly. You’ve said yourself that I’ve done a stellar job, so please…”

“Why are you so intent on doing this by yourself?”

Okay, so maybe the teensy crush you’ve developed for him hasn’t fully gone away. You can’t answer his question without revealing your secret, so you merely repeat ‘Please’ with your head bowed.

Silence stifles the air around you as Jimin thinks. “All right, fine,” he says with a reluctant sigh, though his lips quirk into a smile at your insistence. “But please tell me if you start feeling unwell again. Seriously, it’s better you stay home than coming to work sick.”

“Thank you,” you beam gratefully at him before taking a sip at your tea. It tastes pleasant, despite you not being able to pinpoint the flavour. Chamomile maybe? As you finish the last sip, you stand and make your way outside, intent on staying late to catch up on all the work you’ve missed today.

You relay as much to Jimin, but he stops you as you open the door to his office. “Would you do me a favour and grab these files from the file room?” he asks as he hands you a sticky note filled with corresponding dates and numbers. “Now would be preferable, but I’m not leaving any time soon. Oh, and be careful. I think a few of them are placed on the higher shelves.”

His warning falls on deaf ears as you scrutinize the numbers on the note. Strange. Why was he looking for records all the way back to when the company was founded? Figuring that it isn’t your problem, you promise that you’ll bring him the documents in a bit…

Which turns out to be the biggest promise you regret making thus far.

“Ow…” you whimper.

Your ankle stings where you had landed on it, having failed to grab the last file you need, which just so happens to also be placed at the highest shelf. The step ladder you used to reach it wasn’t tall enough, and despite standing on your tiptoes, your fingers barely graze the bottom of the folder. Your fate was sealed when your distracted brain started thinking about the dream you had the night before.

When you attempt to stand to clean the mess you’ve made, gravity pulls you back down when your injured leg is unable to support your weight. Now, you’re sitting on the ground littered with papers, unable to call anyone for help with the shitty cell service in the file room.

Tears well up in your eyes when you think of your sorry state. Would Jimin fire you for your incompetence? Probably not, but it’s been an embarrassing day so far, especially since you spent most of it dozing off on his office couch that’s usually reserved for his guests. You wonder how he fared with all his meetings that you couldn’t attend with him – what sorts of excuses had he come up with when they asked where you were?

“God, I’m pathetic.”

Just as you’re wallowing in your self-pity, the door to the file room opens and you spy Jimin’s blonde hair between the empty shelves.

“Over here,” you answer pitifully when he calls your name.

You can almost see the comically large, pulsing angry symbol as he frowns at your slumped figure.

“I told you to be careful!” he grumbles as he surveys your foot. You cry out when his fingers graze at the ankle, the tears you’ve been holding onto slipping away down your cheeks. Jimin’s eyes soften at your whimpers, and with a gentleness you didn’t know he possesses at the moment; he wipes away your tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry. It’s not broken,” he whispers reassuringly. “It’s a little swollen, but I promise you’re going to be better in the morning. Can you stand?”

You shake your head, hiccupping a ‘No’.

“Okay, put your arms around my neck. Yep. Just like that. Now, hold on,” he instructs before lifting you up.

“W-Wait,” you protest as he carries you in the direction of his office. “Aren’t I heavy?”

You could feel the rumbling of his laughter with your cheek pressed against his chest. He chuckles as though you couldn’t have asked a sillier question. “Of course not. You weigh nothing more than a couple of grapes.”

You pray gratefully to whatever deity can hear you because when he turns around the corner, the office is otherwise empty, save for the janitor that has his back turned. Your cheeks are so heated that you plant your face further into his chest, refusing to look at your surroundings. You stopped wondering if Jimin could hear the manic pounding of your heart when you hear his, and you carry that secret with you until you hear the door click shut.

---

Jimin rests you gently on his desk before retrieving a first aid kid from your desk outside of his office. He’s gentle as he examines your foot, taking care not to move it around too much and risk injuring it further.

“Okay, you’re definitely good, but make sure to ice it when you get home, okay? And please call into work if you can’t move tomorrow. I have faith that you absolutely can do your job from home,” he smiles confidently.

True to his word, the sharp pain has since ebbed into a dull throb as you twist your ankle around. Perhaps if you stayed in the file room longer, you wouldn’t have risked embarrassing yourself in front of Jimin, but you won’t lie – you enjoyed being wrapped up in his arms as he carried you into his office.

“Thank you,” you mumble, shifting forward to stand.

“Nuh-uh,” Jimin tuts, stopping you in your tracks with a gentle nudge on your shoulder. “That doesn’t mean you’re good to go anywhere, missy. You’re staying here until I finish my work so I can drive you home.”

“But…” you protest, only to have the words die in your throat when he shakes his head firmly. Relenting to his decision, you agree. “Only if I can buy dinner,” you persuade.

“Deal,” Jimin replies with a grin.

---

When the food arrives, you’re mostly done with catching up with your tasks, having worked through most of the evening in silence after Jimin retrieved your laptop from your desk. You didn’t realize you were starving until he returned with a giant white plastic bag’s worth of food. You weren’t sure what he’d like, so you got one of everything, allowing yourself to splurge a little bit after he took care of you that afternoon. Hell, the entire day.

“God, I’m starving,” you comment, closing your laptop to place it on the coffee table in front of you.

Your stomach grumbles louder with each plastic container Jimin opens, the smell of spices mingling deliciously in the air.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he grins, tapping on the plastic plate that was provided in your massive order. “Do you want me to bring the food over to you or can you stand?”

You test your ankle a few times by standing slowly, making sure to put most of your weight on the other leg. Finding your balance is a little tricky, but you’re happy to report that you’re able to at least hobble over to his desk without any chance of falling.

“Careful…” he mumbles as he watches you, arms outstretched as if he’s ready to catch you should you slip and fall. You have no doubt that Jimin would be able to do it too.

“See, I’m fine?” you grin with a roll of your eyes, scooping out some rice and every other side dish that catches your eye.

Jimin joins you on the couch, a hand holding his large stack of food while the other hovers over your elbow despite your protests. As you settled in and began eating, it’s only then that you realized how, dare you say, intimate this was. Of course, you’ve had plenty of company related outings where you end up in a restaurant with just Jimin, but that’s mostly during the day. And here, in his office so late in the evening, the surroundings are akin to a candle-lit dinner, especially since he decided to turn all the lights off aside from his sole table lamp, casting dancing shadows on his face that make your insides flop around while you attempt to focus on your plate instead of his gorgeous face.

When the rest of your dinner has been put away, you’re now left with a limbo in your schedule. On one hand, it’s approaching 9pm, and you still have work tomorrow, so you really should get going, but watching Jimin settle back into his chair, round glasses perched on his nose as he returned to his tasks, you’re reluctant to part from him.

“Do you normally work this late, sir?”

You weren’t paying attention when he had taken off his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, but right now, with the sliver of skin on his chest exposed, he doesn’t look like the CEO you’ve worked under for several years now. In fact, you’re reminded just then that you’re about the same age, still relatively young and fresh-faced, and surely the hours he put in outside of work is the reason why he’s able to attain this prestigious title today. Jimin doesn’t reply to your question right away, mumbling a ‘one moment’ under his breath as he types.

“I don’t normally stay this late,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. “But a certain secretary of mine decided to play Sleeping Beauty on me today, so I have a bit more work that needs to be done.”

You open your mouth to apologize, but you’re cut off by his boyish grin. “I’m just kidding,” he teases with a wink.

“Well, umm, I should probably clean up the files since I’m mostly done with what I have to do for tomorrow,” you mutter sheepishly.

“Sure, don’t get hurt this time, all right?”

“That’s cold, sir,” you pout at his teasing grin. “My ankle is still a bit numb from the pain.”

You leave Jimin’s office accompanied by the sound of his sweet laughter, and when the door closes shut behind you, you can’t help but lean against it for a moment, smiling to yourself.

---

You spend way too long picking up the scattered papers from the floor due to your earlier injury. By the time you are done, Jimin appears, peeking his head in to ask how you’re doing. You gesture at the stacks of folders on the nearby table in triumph, proud that you were able to complete such a task.

“Colour me impressed.” Jimin examines the stack of folders in admiration, praising you for a job well done.

“Thank you, but this was the least I could do after making such a mess.”

He hums as he surveys the stack, flipping through the first few pages before placing them back down. “I’ll help you carry these upstairs. I wouldn’t want to be sued for negligence,” he chuckles as he picks up a stack.

Ever considerate, Jimin left you a stack to carry by yourself, so you don’t feel useless. You can only grin as you follow him into the elevators (and you may have stolen a few more glances than usual while you were waiting).

“Ah, look how late it’s gotten,” Jimin comments when the two of you reach his office. The old grandfather clock he keeps in there rings eleven times, but despite the lateness of the evening, you’ve yet to feel tired.

After placing your stack of folders onto his desk, you approach the clock out of curiosity. It stands out of place in the modern-looking office, the ornate swirls on the wood a great contrast to most of the sleek black furniture. It’s the first thing you notice when you first meet Jimin in the office all those years ago. You never had a chance to ask him what it’s about despite being so close… and you realize that tonight was a rare occasion for you to satiate that curiosity of yours.

Your fingers trace the swan etched on the side of the clock, admiring the way it comes alive in the wood, wings spread out as though it’s about to take flight in front of you. “What’s the story about this clock? It looks older than I am.”

Jimin looks up from where he sits, gazing warmly at your profile while you play with a relic from his past. “Oh, him?” he smiles fondly, leaning back on his chair. “He’s been with me for over 200 years or so? I’m surprised he still works, to be honest.”

You can only gape in surprise. “You mean this clock has been in your family for over 200 years?”

A shadow passes over Jimin’s face. “…Not quite,” he mutters, though he’s not sure you heard him. “Anyway, he’s given to me by a friend. It’s the only furniture I carry with me from my house every time I get a grand office to myself,” he gestures at the room, splaying his arms wide.

Your fondness for him grows as he talks wistfully about the clock like it's alive. It suits him, you think, how he treats everyone with such kindness, you’re not surprised that it extends to objects as well. Turning back to face the clock, you sigh, knowing that it probably is time for you to leave if you don’t want to risk being late tomorrow morning.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, sir, I think I’ll get going now.”

Jimin looks at the clock and nods, and to your surprise, he stands up from his desk, placing his glasses on top of his keyboard before offering an arm towards you. “All right, I’ll walk you to your car. It’s awfully late and I don’t want anything to happen to my favourite secretary.”

The compliment makes you laugh, butterflies threatening to burst from your stomach. “I believe I’m your only secretary, sir.”

“Ah, I meant what I said,” he winks.

Just as you’re crossing the threshold of his office, your heels catch on the edge of his rug, sending you tumbling forward with a yelp. You expect your flailing arms to catch yourself when you hit the floor, but the impact never comes because Jimin’s suddenly right there, strong arms holding your waist as his eyes expand in shock.

“Are you all right!?” he half-shouts. “You really should be more careful!”

You can barely listen to his nagging because your hands are pressed on his sculpted chest, a sliver of skin peeking through from where he undid the first two buttons of his dress shirt. Your breath hitches in your throat as you graze the heated skin with your fingertips, and you hear Jimin inhale sharply – whatever words he was uttering caught in his throat as he zeroes in on your hands.

He whispers your name oh-so quietly, caressing every syllable with his tongue, and you slowly bring your eyes to his face. Jimin traps you in his hypnotizing gaze, never letting you break away, not even when your heart pounds so loudly against your ribcage, you’re sure it’s about to breakthrough; not even when your breaths turn into shallow staccatos, your head beginning to swim from the lack of oxygen. You can sense the strong emotion that rests behind those knowing eyes, and as you continue to stare, you wonder if it matches the one you hold in yours.

“Why do you look at me like that?” you murmur.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kiss me?” You didn’t mean to make it sound like a question, but your voice catches in your throat when Jimin leans in, his eyes drooping close.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispers, lips ghosting over yours, faces merely inches apart.

“Yes.”

The breathless affirmation barely left you when Jimin attaches his lips to yours, kissing you with the same urgency that you’ve felt in your dreams, only this time it’s real. One of his hands travel from your waist to cup the side of your face, his thumb swiping against your cheek. He catches the bottom of your lip with his teeth, tugging it lightly to make you moan against his hold.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he rasps into your skin as he undoes your blouse. “To touch you; to kiss you this way… You’ll be the death of me.” Every word is punctuated with a searing kiss, his lips setting your skin ablaze when he passes by your neck, your jaw, your collarbone.

“Ah—Jimin,” you gasp, tugging the ends of his blonde locks as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Jimin lifts you up with little effort, his mouth never leaving your neck until he sets you down gently on his desk; his things thrown haphazardly on the floor below with a sweep of his arm.

“Beautiful,” he mumbles at your half-naked state. His thumb swipes over a pebbled nipple, causing you to arch your back with a whimper. He lets his nail scratch gently along the sides of your breasts, almost absentmindedly, while he watches your reactions with amusement. “Would you let me see all of you?”

All you can muster is a breathy ‘Please’.

You help him remove the remainders of your clothing to join the mess on the floor, your body shivering as you lay naked on his desk. Jimin hums as he traces your curves with the palm of his hand, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. “Let me take care of you first, yeah?”

With wide eyes, you watch him sink to the floor while his strong hands push your legs apart to reveal your glistening slit. Jimin breathes in deeply as he kisses along your thighs, his lips leaving a trail of reminders before he dives in.

“Jimin…” you whimper as he drags the flat of his tongue along your folds.

Jimin notices the way your spine locks in place when he repeats the action. “Relax for me, sweetheart. I got you.” A hand reaches out from below to intertwine with yours and he gives you a firm squeeze before resuming his task.

He starts out slow – dragging the flat of his tongue across your folds while his remaining hand circles around your entrance. You’re left shaking where you lay, unable to connect your thoughts together to stammer out a coherent sentence. All that’s left in your brain is his name, increasingly becoming permanent with every second that goes by.

When he feels your body relax underneath him, Jimin prods your entrance with his tongue, sinking in and out of your hole as you pulse around him before he replaces it with a finger, and then two. You hiss at the slight burn, squeezing the hand you’re holding into a tight grip.

“Relax,” he reminds you gently, swiping his thumb across your pale knuckles. “Focus on nothing else but me.”

“More…” you mewl, shivering under his grip. “Praise me more.”

Jimin chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. Instead of a sassy remark, you receive the soothing lilt in his voice. “Good girl,” he whispers. “My good girl. You’re doing so well; look at this cunt greedily sucking me in.”

You’re lavished in praise, though his voice shifts into a deep growl with every coax of his fingers inside you. And when his thumb swipes across your clit, the tight tether you held onto slowly unravels.

“Are you close, sweetheart? God, you’re really tight,” he hisses before replacing his thumb with his mouth. “You’re gonna be a good girl and cum on my fingers, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe, burning like a thousand suns under his attention. “I’m so close!”

“Let go for me. I’m right here,” Jimin reassures you in whispers before silencing himself with your taste.

“Jimin!”

You think you screamed, but you can’t be too sure, not when your body is pulled apart and pieced together as you come undone before him. You’ve never had an orgasm like this – a great abyss threatening to pull you under as the waves slams against your wavering figure repeatedly. Through it all, Jimin drinks your essence, his sleeves soaked through as he continues to thrust into your walls.

“I can’t—not anymore,” you protest weakly.

“You can and you will. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” Your feeble attempts to push his head away stop at his emphasis. “That’s it,” Jimin praises as your hand returns to your side before planting a series of kisses along your folds, “Just relax one more time for me, okay?”

Jimin is by no means gentle this time around, slipping a third finger inside before increasing his pace. His once sweet words morph into growls laced with passion, washing your body aflame with desire. “God, you’re so fucking tight. This tiny cunt can barely fit my fingers, I’m not certain you’ll be able to fit all of me inside,” he grunts. “Do you think you can handle the stretch?”

You can barely keep your eyes open through his taunts, your mind spiralling out of control as you focus on the pleasure derived from his fingers. The answer you give him is intelligible, a choked whine of his name in place of agreement.

“Oh?” Jimin lifts an eyebrow at your state. “Too fucked out to talk already? I’ve barely started,” he chuckles. “What’s wrong, baby?” In his dangerously low voice, the otherwise cute pet name sounds demeaning. “Are my fingers too much for you?”

He tuts in disapproval when a beat lapses without a coherent response. Then, like sweet torture, his pace switches into a snail’s crawl. “I don’t know if you can take me in if you’re this out of it with just my fingers. Squeeze my hand once if you want to continue. Twice if you want to stop.”

“No!” The protest you utter is whiny and grating to your ears, and your attempt to sit up fails when your body refuses to peel itself away from his desk. “Don’t stop, please? So close.” That was… barely a sentence, but you beg silently that it does the job. Remembering his request, you squeeze the hand you’re holding once to reassure him.

Jimin smiles at your resilience. “Okay, but we’ll go slow this time. Ah, ah,” he tuts when you begin to whine. “Slow or not at all. Your choice.”

You grit your teeth at the illusion of choice, but the pace he’s set doesn’t seem so bad at all. With a great sigh, you relent to his wishes. “Slow,” you whisper. “We can go slow. I promise I’ll be good, sir.”

“Sir?” he muses with a raised brow. “Hmm… Well, I do like the sound of that. And what about you? Do you like ‘sweetheart’,” he plants a kiss on your thigh. You shiver. “…’baby’,” another kiss, this time higher, “…’pet’?” Jimin replaces his fingers with his mouth as he makes out with your cunt, his tongue slipping in and out of your pulsing hole. Face soaked with your arousal; he returns his fingers in their rightful place, eyes glinting with mischief as he fucks you slowly. “Or maybe, you prefer something harsher… how about ‘slut’?” Jimin attaches his mouth on your clit, grazing the nub ever-so-gently with his teeth.

Your gasp slips into a moan at the spine-chilling sensation, your eyes rolling back. “Love it—ah! Call me whatever you w-want.”

“My good, pretty slut. So turned on she’s making a mess all over my desk. I’m sure the smell will linger for days,” he chuckles into your skin. “Oh, look at you, clenching hard around my fingers. You like the thought of me walking inside my office tomorrow and thinking of you, huh? I’ve always known you were territorial. Isn’t that why you won’t let me hire a partner for you? Staking your claim as the only person that always has access to me?” At your subtle nod, his smile widens into a mischievous grin. “Looks like I was wrong about you being good. You’re a naughty thing, aren’t you?”

Jimin couldn’t help the taunts coming out from his mouth, the true nature of his being – the need to corrupt – showing itself through the cracks in the control he wields. And you… so responsive, beyond anything he’s ever imagined. Your body is so sensitive that it doesn’t require him to use his powers at all. Maybe the dreams he’s been poisoning you with have taken affect. The thought saddens him somehow. Could this not have happened without the use of his powers after all? Was he nothing without them?

Caught in his thoughts, Jimin doesn’t realize the stutter in his movements. He’s about to apologize when you interrupt him, as you assume that it’s your fault for not responding to his questions. “Sir, please! I swear I’m a good girl. Please don’t stop… I’m so close.”

His spirits lift at the sight of you mewling before him, your body jumping with every crook of his fingers inside. No, he thinks, it’s time for him to focus on you and nothing else, resonating with his earlier advice. He releases a little bit of his power, letting it mingle with the air to heighten your senses. “If you’re so good, cum for me then,” he breathes, drowning you in praise and kisses along your heated skin. “One more time. Let me hear you call my name one more time.”

“Jimin—” you obey, breathless and shaking. “Jimin.”

His name is a prayer etched upon your lips and with every inhale, Jimin’s unaware of the mark he’s left, not just riddled along your skin, but at the very core of your heart. This time, when you come undone, it’s with a blazing inferno, your body calling out to your release and a strong desire for him to be yours.

“That’s it. Let go.”

So, you do. With your heart trapped in your throat, pounding along to the tune of his fingers; with your nails scratching the back of his hand that you’ve held through the entire duration; and with all your adoration, pouring out from every crevice you didn’t know existed in your body.

This time, when you beg him to stop, Jimin listens. He stands to claim your lips sweetly, engulfing them with his, a slow kindling in comparison to before. Your eyes can barely open, but when you manage to peek, you see the knot of concentration resting on his brows. The smile finds its way into the kiss, one that Jimin reciprocates. It doesn’t matter that you can taste your saltiness on his tongue, because all that exists now is Jimin.

Jimin, your attentive boss, who’s always had his team’s best interest in mind.

Jimin, the harmless flirt, who reminds you every day that you’re beautiful when he catches you staring at your reflection in the mirror with a cocky grin.

Jimin, colleague, friend, and hopefully lover.

You intertwine your arms around his neck to pull him deeper, closer, until there’s not an inch of air between your bodies. What you’re doing hardly constitutes as kissing – lips gliding across each other. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, making them heavier than before. When you part, there’s beautiful silence, a serenity created from unspoken words, though there’s a quiet certainty that both parties feel the same way despite their unshared feelings.

“Jimin, I…” you begin to whisper, the confession sitting idly on your tongue. Your lids are heavy, refusing to open despite your desire to see his face. “That was incredible.”

Jimin nuzzles his face on the crook of your neck, breathing you in, sweat and all. “Satisfied?”

You chuckle breathlessly, a shaky hand absentmindedly playing with his hand. “I don’t know if I can stand, injury aside. I’m pretty sure my legs are wobbly.”

“I can always carry you to your car,” he hums. “Better yet, let me take you home.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Jimin helps you up with a firm hand on your back before handing you the clothes he threw earlier on the floor. When your hands are too shaky to loop the buttons of your blouse, he chuckles and takes over, so you take the time to admire his beauty – at the now-messy blonde hair that frames the sides of his face, a complete disarray compared to his normal slicked-back look; at his cheeks, dotted crimson from exertion; and all the way to the satisfied smirk resting on that perfect pout. Oh, you can kiss him all day.

Naturally, your gaze gravitates to his eyes, and you smile when you notice his expanded pupils, how they almost engulf the crimson of his irises that they’re almost black.

…Crimson?

Your hand wraps around his wrist to stop his current task while your eyes search his face for an explanation.

At the death grip circling around his wrists, he stares into your wide eyes with confusion. “Is there something on my face?”

“Red,” is all you say, a whisper of disbelief, but it’s enough for Jimin to connect the dots.

There’s a crack in his carefully constructed façade.

“Shit!” He rips his hands away to turn around and shield his eyes from yours. Jimin has used his power the entire day, and now he’s left spent, an empty battery, unable to erase your memory and change his appearance. He tries to think of an excuse – something to put you at ease for now, but nothing would make sense, and his panicking brain has left the building in lieu of aiding him.

Red. Just like your dreams. The feeling of déjà vu, the heavy fog that puts you to sleep… was it all his doing? Your face pales into horror as you look for an answer in his quaking shoulders. It couldn’t be… right?

“Are you the reason for my dreams?” You had to make sure. He can’t be the reason for it… right? When he doesn’t respond, you leave the desk and approach his figure. “Jimin?”

Just before your hand touches his back, Jimin moves away. “Stay back,” he murmurs in warning. “I… I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

You retract your hand away, but you’re firm in your stance, refusing to move until you have an explanation. “Tell me. Just who are you?”

Jimin struggles with his options. Erasing your memory is the safest bet, but it’s a power he has yet to master. The fickle nature of the magic would mean that he’d risk losing this entire night with you. Going back to your relationship before would be agony. There was no way he’d be able to be the same boss, you’d spy the longing on his face a mile away. No, erasing your memory was not an option… so, what does that leave him?

“The truth.” You voice his thoughts so easily. “I want to know the truth.”

This entire day was all wrong. You weren’t supposed to find out so soon. He figured he could hide his true nature a little longer, but now any hopes of a relationship with you have been thrown out the window… all because he couldn’t maintain his control over his powers. Stupid. So, stupid. He’d have to relocate, so he doesn’t have to see your face.

The soft call of his name breaks him from his thoughts, like a hand reaching out into the darkness. In his agony, he accepts your help, which means turning around to face you.

To face the truth.

A gasp leaves your lips. And then he begins.

“I’m not human, though I don’t doubt you’ve probably figured it out.” Jimin offers a rueful smile that you don’t reciprocate. You clamp your lips to avoid interrupting, letting him explain from the very beginning.

Your mind whirls with information about supposed mythical beings of old. When you ask how long he’s walked the earth, he winces. “Too long,” Jimin mumbles, but doesn’t delve further into the matter. You don’t broach the subject either. Jimin explains that he’s an incubus, who feasts on dreams to regain energy, but he swears he only takes a little at a time and that it hasn’t affected any of his previous targets.

You skirt over the fact that there’s been others before you. It makes sense, but the ugly green monster that rears its head is less rational than you are.

“So, your previous… targets,” your lips curl in disgust at the word, “don’t remember their dreams… Why do I remember mine?”

Jimin shrugs and stays silent, though you have a feeling it’s not from lack of knowledge.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whisper with regret.

Though he isn’t surprised by your decision, his heart breaks all the same. He hangs his head in shame, letting the curtain of his hair shield you from his tears. Of course, you’d feel cheated; manipulated. Any rational human would assume so – that their emotions are completely fabricated because of his powers, even he couldn’t be deluded enough to believe the possibility of your feelings to be genuine. Yet, your next words bring a flutter of hope in his heart.

“10… 15 years will go by like a blink of an eye and everyone will begin to wonder why you haven’t changed.” You shake your head, not in disbelief, but to rid the thoughts of a domestic life ahead with him as you begin to lay the foundation of a wall around your heart. “And if we have kids…” That’s a delusion too far in the future, but you’d be lying to say you hadn’t thought of it. You shake your head once. Firmly. Discarding all hopes of a future with Jimin.

When you lift your head to apologize for a final time, you’re surprised to find him amused instead of grief-stricken.

“What?”

Jimin can hardly contain his excitement. “So… your only problem is time-related? That I won’t grow old with you?”

Was he insinuating that your concerns are stupid? “Okay, Mr. Demon,” you scowl. “What other problems should I be worried about?”

He chuckles quietly before reaching out, the tips of his fingers brushing against your cheek. Your body turns rigid, and you’re hardly breathing. With a wicked grin, he whispers, “How about the fact that I have the ability to compel you to serve me? Haven’t you considered that I, a demon, may be dangerous?”

This time, it’s your turn to laugh. Through your heaving breaths, you manage to see the pout on his face, which only makes you laugh harder. “Jimin,” you chuckle, wiping your tears with the palm of your hand. “I have no doubt that you would have done it already if you wanted to. So, yes, I’m more worried about the time thing.”

“Does that mean…” he whispers, hopeful. “Does that mean you want to grow old with me?”

“Yes. I mean no! I mean—”

“Please,” he cuts you off. “The truth.”

It isn’t fair how he used your words against you, but you answer him anyway. “I don’t know if we should jump into talking about marriage so quickly,” you mumble, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I mean! We’re not even dating yet.”

“Then be my girlfriend.”

You must be hearing things. “What?”

Jimin takes a step towards you, his palm now fully resting against your cheek. “I mean it. If your only issue is time, I already have a solution. I gave up my immortality a year ago now,” he confesses. His crimson eyes hold the same intense yearning you’re too familiar with: of sleepless nights alone, and of unsatisfactory touches from strangers. “I would’ve explained everything to you if you hadn’t found out today, but, I guess this is sort of fate?”

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs. “In all my time on this earth, I’ve never met someone like you, and I don’t think I’ll meet another after you either. That’s why it must be you. Even an immortal being dies eventually, and I’d rather choose my way of ‘going’, so to speak.”

Jimin lets the words sink in, waiting patiently for your response. “You meant it all?” you parrot, stunned at the confession. “How long have you been… interested in me?” Was it too early to say ‘love’? Depending on his answer, you assume so.

“When you introduced yourself five years ago in this office,” he sighs wistfully, stealing a glance at his door like he’s relieving the memory. “All I’ve wanted to do was to touch you;” he leans in, face inching closer.

“To kiss you;” he whispers as his lips mould against yours.

“To hold you.” Jimin wraps you up in an embrace, holding you tightly in his arms. In your ears, he whispers, a final confession that eases all your worries. “I want to grow old with you.”

The sincerity in his voice brings you to tears, and you let them fall, soaking the white of his shirt grey.

“Hey, hey, are you crying? Did I say something wrong? Please don’t cry…” Jimin frets, lowering himself to hook his chin on your shoulder, so he could squeeze you tighter.

You nuzzle further into his chest with a teary chuckle. “N-No. Nothing’s wrong. Just happy.”

“Good,” he mumbles before planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “Although now that I think about it, I haven’t heard your response.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you forgotten already?” he chuckles. “I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“More like demanded,” you snicker. “But yes, I’d love nothing more, but you’re going to have to prove yourself to me first.”

Jimin lights up at your response, the ruby in his eyes glowing bright despite the dim light. “Of course, anything you ask, I’ll do it. I’ll show you every day that my feelings are genuine.”

He then proceeds to hold up his pinkie towards you. “As long as you promise to stay with me?”

With a laugh, you join your pinkie with his, sealing the promise with a final kiss.

“I do.”

moon's notes: i didn't include sex in this because i'm kind of bored of writing it tbh? but i will have a drabble out sometime next week for this couple because i love them so so much! what do you think about the dulce somnii universe so far? do you like it? what theories do you have for the other members 👀

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