Pjm Fic Rec List By Btsis7okay - Tumblr Posts

important ass-et | pjm

Summary: You've been tasked with a very important job that you absolutely can't fuck up. After a long day at work, you're at your wits end and who better to end the evening with than your boss?

pairing: CEO!jimin x employee!reader

word count: 8,489

rating: 18+. this work is not suitable for younger audiences.

genre/au: office romance au, coworkers to lovers (?) | smut

warnings: sir kink • mirror kink • spitting • light bondage • squirting • oral (m. & f. receiving) • dirty talk • dom/sub themes • alcohol consumption (not drunk!) • safeword mention (not used!) • impact play (pussy, ass, and thighs baby) • name calling (bitch, slut)

author's note: this self-indulgent thing is for the lovely siya aka @missgeniality! surprise! but not really since i've been teasing this for a HOT minute huh? this is also my first full length fic for the lovely folks over at @btsgoldnetwork! thank you for accepting me into the network! anyway, i do hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think! constructive criticisms are always appreciated!

credits: smoke texture

m.list | ao3

Tick. Tock. Tick.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

When you open your eyes again, you're met with the scowling face of one Park Jimin, lines settling deep into the crevice of his face as he looks at your report silently, eyes darting between line after line of what you've written. Gulping, you school your features into a mask of neutrality, unwilling to betray the nervousness you're currently feeling as you maintain your breathing to endure the scolding that's bound to happen. The waiting is agonizing, the perfectionist CEO in front of you scrutinizing every verb and word choice with pursed lips, pen marking on the margins to make scathing notations on what could be improved upon.

You didn't come this far only to fail. After working for his company for almost eight years of your life, you've managed to climb the ranks quickly, proving yourself with every challenge dropped in the palms of your hands. When the CEO himself approached you in your tiny cubicle, asking you to meet him in his office, you were sure that it was the day you were getting fired and you paced nervously in front of the large wooden doors, thinking about all the mistakes you've done in the past, tears threatening to fall before you push open the doors and await your fate. To your surprise, you're still hired. He lifted an eyebrow at your panicked state, but didn't ask anything as he dropped a large burgundy file on the sleek mahogany table in front of you, an uncaring smile dancing upon his lips.

"I heard you're the best of the best. Show me. Make me proud."

His words still ring in your ears, motivating you to this day. Yet back then, as you perused the file, what you saw was an impossible task in front of you because you were just tasked to lead the audit team for a hotel establishment under Jimin's rule. You should've known than to accept the offer, but something trapped you into saying 'yes'; maybe it was the charisma and sheer power rolling off of the young CEO in droves or the sweet tone of approval in his voice when you signed the non-disclosure agreement, but your mind was off elsewhere when you sold your soul to the devil that day.

Park Jimin has disrupted your simple life since then.

You were giddy at first - trying your best to meet his impossibly high expectations of you by spending night after night in the office. Some days, you don't even go home with the amount of work you had to do; sleeping in the office break room and eating cheap ramen to tie you over. Lately though, you've been feeling frustrated, your needs not being met as you focus on the mountain of paperwork threatening to pull you under and Jimin's offhand flirty comments leaving you absolutely hot and bothered. You've made an effort to ignore your delusions. After all, why would someone like Park Jimin ever want you? With no family name or money to back you up, you're insignificant at best.

"Good," Jimin clears his throat and hands the report back to you. Looks like that's all the praise you'll receive after slaving on the report for two whole weeks. "I've made a few comments on the margins. Please fix them by tonight."

The stress must have made you brave because for the first time, you foolishly snapped, hands balled into fist at your side as you fixed your icy glare towards your boss. "It's 6pm and I'll fix the changes tomorrow."

Jimin blinks, the only twitch in his otherwise cool features that show his surprise. He furrows his brows, tapping his pen against the dark table as he clenches his jaw, sizing you up. The long seconds accompanied by only the clock causes your head to swim, the silence palpable as he looks like he could kill you where you stand. You chastise yourself briefly before opening your mouth to apologise.

Just as the words begin to leave your lips, there's a cat-like grin on Jimin's face as he leans back against his plush white chair, hands folded across his chest. "Answer a few yes/no questions for me."

It isn't a request.

"You've come here to work, is that right?" Jimin leans forward and threads his ringed fingers together before placing his chin on top of it.

You nod.

Jimin stands up then, gliding over towards the edge of the table, propping himself there momentarily. His eyes never leave yours and there's a glint of something dark; something predatory in his gaze. "I'm your boss. Is that right?"

You gulp and nod hesitantly, mind churning in an attempt to find out where he's going with this line of questioning.

"And" - Jimin draws himself to his full height, prowling towards you languidly with his hands in his pockets - "if I asked you to do anything, you'd do it, right?" Jimin drawls the last word, letting it hang in the air as his face leans close to yours, only a hair's breadth between your noses.

You gulp, nodding weakly as you feel yourself get swept away by the intimidating man in a grey suit that surely costs triple your wages for the year. Your own panicked reflection stares at you from his dark sunglasses and he brings his ring-clad fingers to remove them from his face only to toss them carelessly on the table. Jimin tilts his head, colourful tresses falling on his forehead and framing his face, as if he's waiting for something.

"Y-Yes," you squeak out, eventually realising that he wanted to hear an answer from you.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

He lifts his hand and gently cups your trembling face, a dark look in his features that you can't name. Your body betrays you when a gasp leaves your lips, knees threatening to buckle if he comes any closer. There's a dial-up tone beeping through your mind, the roaring of your blood mixing with the fog of desire rendering you useless and all you can do is to maintain your steady breaths, counting the seconds as you wait for him to move.

Jimin's lips turn from a simple smirk into a cruel smile. You can see the flame of excitement in his eyes as his pupils dilate and you bring your knees together as you feel the dampness from your arousal threatening to leak down your thighs.

He chuckles upon releasing you, sauntering away towards his desk and plopping down on his chair as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened; as though he didn't just cause your heart to fall into a thousand floors below you in fear and… in desire.

"Finish it by tonight," Jimin's voice calls out as you dismiss yourself from his office, clutching the burgundy folder against your thrumming heart.

---

Flipping through the notes Jimin left, you gnaw on the inside of your cheeks, thinking about his soft, pillowy lips that were mere inches away from your face and the cologne that has since infiltrated your brain. You've always admired Jimin and you'd be lying to say that you don't find him attractive, but even with the few flirtatious comments he's said towards you in the past, you've never found him so… appealing.

No, you nag firmly as your brain comes up with possible images of a naked Jimin. We are not doing this today.

Huffing out a sigh, you try once more to focus on your work and for some time, the distraction helps. You're well into finishing your first page of corrections when the last employees wave their goodbyes, encouraging you to stay strong. Sitting alone in the dim office, you let your tired body slump forward, putting your head in your hands. You glance at the bottom corner of your laptop screen to find that it's 8pm, which explains why your stomach is growling with hunger. You check through your favourite app for any deliveries, only to find that you're suddenly without appetite for anything they're currently offering. Ah, well, looks like it's another cup noodle day for you.

Making your way to the office pantry is like second nature to you. Hell, this entire office is already becoming your second home. There's a blanket at the very bottom drawer of your desk and extra supplies like a toothbrush, deodorant, and some simple makeup for when you need to look presentable the next day. Showering is easy since the office has a gym on the bottom floor too. All the office needs is a functioning stove and you could probably sell all your furniture to move in permanently into the space. Your musings put a smile on your face as you chuckle while you wait for the water to finish heating up.

"You look nice when you smile."

Whirling around in shock, you're met with your smirking boss leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Embarrassed, you quickly drop into a bow before turning your attention towards the singing kettle. The surprise from unexpectedly seeing him in the pantry causes you to touch the hot piece of metal and you jump backwards, clutching your injured hand and dipping it in your mouth. Heat flames your cheek and you can't bring yourself to meet Jimin's eyes, so you stare resolutely at the bright red packaging of the cup ramen instead.

"Are you okay?" There's genuine concern in his voice that makes you look up. Jimin's eyebrows scrunching slightly on his forehead as he moves closer towards you.

"Yes" - his eyebrow quirks upwards - "...sir," you answer swiftly, ripping open the ramen package and pouring out the hot water into the cup before making a move to dash away, clutching the warm styrofoam in your hands.

There's a quiet, disapproving tsking sound and Jimin's arm shoots out in front of your chest, barring your escape. "Cup ramen is bad for you. If you're hungry, come with me."

"I still have work to do," you mumble weakly, trying to get as far away as you press your back towards the counter.

"I know. I assigned you that work. And I believe we had a chat earlier about doing exactly what you're told to do, didn't we? Hmm?"

When you don't answer immediately, his jaw tenses and, in one swift moment, he rips the styrofoam cup away from your hands to slam it on the counter. "Come with me," he commands quietly and circles his large hand around your wrist as he tugs you with him, ignoring the weak protests falling from your lips.

You stop struggling eventually, letting him drag you to the elevator down to the basement. It's not until he unlocks the car door - a sleek black Tesla that probably costs half of the houses in your neighbourhood combined - and opens the passenger seat for you to slide into that he lets go of your wrist, gesturing with a mischievous bow and a wink.

"Thank you," you mumble as you duck into the car. Jimin simply nods, closing the door after making sure your feet are inside. As he walks towards the driver's side, there's a strange coiling in your stomach as you take in the scent that is so wholly Jimin mixed with the smell of the luxurious leather seats.

"Where do you want to eat? Don't worry, I'll pay." It's with those words that you realise you've left your purse on your desk and another wave of embarrassment washes over you, causing your hands to shake as you attempt to buckle in.

As though he's sensing your distress, Jimin leans forward, warmth radiating from his body, as he helps you push the metal in the slot. You don't know how much your heart can take anymore. And you're unsure if it's intentional, but you feel Jimin's hands linger on your waist, your skin searing underneath the white blouse. When he pulls away, you gasp, feeling his fingers skirting over your exposed thighs and you clamp your lips in embarrassment, noting the devilish smile and the quirk of his eyebrows before you quickly turn away.

A quiet chuckle comes from his direction as he starts the car, drumming his fingers on the black, leather steering wheel. There's an occasional clink of metal as his rings hit one another and it takes everything in you not to look at his beautiful hands. You can imagine them though, and you close your eyes momentarily, reminiscing at the strong grip he had on your wrist, though your eyes snap open when your mind delves deeper in your thoughts, pulling an image of Jimin wrapping those very same fingers around your throat.

Oh my, if cup noodles aren't good for your overall physical health, Park Jimin is not good for your mental well-being.

Jimin plays some music as he drives, a smooth jazz beat that thumps across the car filled with expensive subwoofers. Your ears perk up when you hear him humming, voice lilting as it plucks notes out of thin air, harmonizing beautifully with the low tones of the saxophone. You can't help but slide your eyes to his handsome face, marveling at the way he's moving his body as he sings along to the rhythm. The lights blurring past your speed enhances the rainbow in his hair and you're awestruck.

How can a man be so beautiful?

Jimin must have sensed your eyes on him because he flashes you a grin, perfect rows of teeth glinting at you like a toothpaste commercial. He laughs freely when your cheeks redden and you glare at the road, wishing the car had an 'Eject' button you can push to get you out of this situation. Although your heart betrays the calm demeanor you're trying to project, you can't help the smile that forms on your lips and you realise that it's the first time that you feel comfortable and relaxed in the presence of your boss.

When he stops the car, you gawk at the grand building that stretches so high up, you can't see the top even as you careen your neck. There's a marvelous statue made of gold where small throngs of people walk on the steps on either side, all of them dressed in refinery. Feeling out of place in your simple black pencil skirt and white blouse, you turn to Jimin, eyes pleading towards him to take you somewhere else, but he pays you no heed, already exiting out of the car and tossing his car keys towards the valet before crossing over and opening your door.

"Come," he commands, holding out his arm towards you.

Your eyes turn into slits as you regard his hand, yet you gingerly loop your own around it anyway as he helps you stand. There's a ripple of gasps around you, but before you can figure out what's happening, Jimin's already whisking you away, reminding you to be careful as the marble steps tend to be slippery.

"I hope you like Italian. You didn't say anything in the car and it's been a while since I've been here. I hope the menu is to your liking," Jimin whispers as he leans closer, his breath tickling your ear.

You nod mutely, staring at the large glass doors ahead of you as it swallows the people inside. The ripples of murmurs start again, but as you're about to turn your head to see the commotion behind you, yet again, Jimin captures your attention and your eyes fall back to his side profile.

"Do you like wine?"

You shrug nonchalantly. You're not much of a connoisseur for alcohol, preferring to get drunk on liquor that costs $5 or less. "I like reds," you answer simply.

Jimin makes a humming noise and he slips from your grasp to put his hand on your lower back. The electricity that runs down your spine at the contact causes you to gasp and you stumble slightly forward before his hand shoots up to wrap around your sides.

"Careful," he whispers low.

Finally, you reach the top of the stairs pressed up against Jimin's side and you can note the stares that are thrown your way. What is this place anyway?

"Mr. Park, please, come in," the bellman greeted him warmly, bowing low as he opens the wide door for you.

"Chase. How's the family?"

You blink at the colorful man, surprised that he knows the man's name, let alone make small talk to an employee. It's not that you think Jimin's cold-hearted, but billionaires like him don't tend to care for people like you. Perhaps you've judged him too harshly.

The bellman and Jimin exchange a few pleasantries, laughing at a few shared stories before he says his goodbye, whisking you into the grand, golden building.

The inside is just as luxurious as you'd imagine, tall marble ceilings and plush scarlet carpet trailing to the receptionist desk at the far wall. A gigantic, crystal chandelier glints in the room, swaying gently as it refracts beams of light to dance on the walls. The conversations within the space are hushed, people leaning towards each other intimately. A beautiful, white grand piano is playing on its own in the center of the room, a haunting melody filling the space. There's a few seating areas scattered about the corners of the lobby, gentlemen dressed similarly to Jimin pointing at thick reports and looking sternly at their phones while sitting back on dark chaise lounges.

Jimin veers left, squeezing your waist in indication because you momentarily forget that he's there, too transfixed at the movie set-like interior. You notice the look of surprise on the hostess' face when the two of you enter, but it disappears quickly when she puts on a mask of professionalism, bowing quickly at you.

"Mr. Park, it's a pleasure to see you again. Same table, sir?"

Jimin doesn't talk to her as affectionately as he did with Chase, but he still calls her by her first name and without a name tag on her lapel, you are even more impressed by his memory.

She takes you to the seating by the window where the view outside is of a garden with soft lights filtering from the ground. Placing a menu on your side, she rattles off the specials for tonight, though your knowledge of Italian food is rusty and you can't quite figure out the dishes she's suggesting. The hostess leaves you with a quick bow, letting you know that the waiter will be there shortly with some water.

"What do you think?" Jimin asks without looking up from the menu, legs crossed over the other as his hand rubs his chin in thought. "Anything caught your eye yet?"

Quickly scanning the menu, you find some familiar words like lasagna and beef and your eyes widen when you see that there aren't a lot of zeroes next to the particular number. Maybe you should come here again, treat yourself to a beautiful dress and a wonderful evening with yourself. "I'll have the lasagna, I think. You?"

Just as Jimin starts to speak, the waiter comes to place two glasses of water in front of you, introducing himself quickly before asking if you're ready to order. You point at the menu in lieu of actually saying words, afraid that you'll butcher the Italian words and become more of an embarrassment in front of your boss.

"I'll have the usual. Oh, and a glass of wine for the miss. Anything from '96. Red, please, " Jimin smiles warmly at the waiter, gesturing at you with an open palm.

The waiter bows after repeating the order and informing you that the food will be done in twenty minutes. When he departs, you're hit with the sudden realisation that you're alone with your boss in a fancy restaurant and the awkwardness of having nothing in common starts to creep under your skin. So, you busy yourself with staring straight outside the garden, ignoring the pointed looks that Jimin throws your way. Your mind is in a frenzy. Jimin's always been a kind boss, but he's also been somewhat cruel with his remarks on your performance, expecting nothing short of perfection from all his employees.

Does he treat all the female employees like this? A sudden thought worms its way to your mind. You can't help it, but you feel a pang of something akin to jealousy, but that's ridiculous. Sure, you find your boss extremely attractive, but you don't want to date him… right?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jimin's voice cuts through your daydream and you turn your head to find him smirking as he drinks from the glass. The only warning you receive is a waggle of eyebrows and then he's fucking with you; allowing streaks of water to dribble down the column of his neck, Adam's apple bobbing as he takes in a large gulp.

Don't think about the dampness between your legs. You're only going to make it worse! You groan inwardly, resolutely looking away from Jimin. Yet, as you hear the clinking of rings against glass, your eyes find their way towards him again. Jimin's using a napkin the wrong way. He's patting the front of his shirt dry, that much is evident, but then, he brings it to his mouth, tugging the pillowy lips to bring attention to how pink and utterly kissable they are.

You take a shuddering gasp, legs locked tightly in place underneath the white table cloth. Much to your relief, the waiter returns and captures Jimin's attention, rattling off French names and you assume they're discussing the wine pairing for the night. It takes a while for him to choose and you use the time to really look at him.

His colourful hair is the newest addition, he's been indecisive about which colours to choose from, so he decided that the most logical option is to have all of it. Then there's his hands. You've heard laughter from inside his office when his friends come over, teasing him about how cute he is and how dainty his fingers are, though you frankly can't see it. The man is intimidation walking on two legs. You've thought about those hands ever since he gripped you in the pantry and again when he's plastered you by his side as you walk through the doors of the hotel. Finally, there's his jaw. Smooth and sharp that you'll let him cut you over and over again. Although it's definitely not on purpose, you find the tensing of his jaw incredibly attractive and you've made simple mistakes over the past few weeks just to irritate him. You're not sure how a man can be so perfect; like he's made to literally cause suffering for all mankind because of his beauty.

You blink when you realise you've been staring at him, long after the waiter has left your table. Jimin doesn't seem to mind, giving you a wink when you come to your senses. He leans back against his chair, hands resting on his knees like he's the king. Like he owns the place.

Oh.

Oh.

"Do you… own this place? Wait, is this the hotel you assigned to me/" you ask dumbly, not really expecting an answer.

Jimin laughs anyway, bringing his hand to cover his mouth as he nods. "I own a large part of the building, yes."

"And all the people here?"

"I hired them. I'll let you in on a little secret, but you have to promise me that you won't breathe a word to anyone."

Jimin leans closer and as if you're pulled by a magnet, you do too, faces meeting at the middle, so close to one another that if you scooted your chair forward, your noses would bump.

"Most of the staff here have been in prison."

That's not a sentence you expected to hear.

You balk, but he continues. "I give them a fresh start by working here and if they do a good job, they can continue to climb the ranks. Being in customer service isn't easy, what with having to deal with so many rude customers, but I hope it gives them a new purpose in life." There's a wistful look in Jimin's eyes, a momentary lapse of silence before he opens his mouth again. "The audit I've placed in your hands? You're right. It's this very hotel and everything involving these employees. From their room and board, which they get for free as soon as they sign the contract, to their families. That's why I've been so hard on you. I know you'll do a tremendous job, and you've exceeded my expectations so far, but this is important to me."

As he finishes his sentence, he leans back on the chair, a small, shy smile forming on his lips. Maybe one day you'll find out why he's doing all this, but your heart blooms with pride; with joy, at the epiphany that you're working directly under a CEO that cares a little too much about people. Not that it's a bad thing.

The food arrives shortly afterward and you find that it's much easier to talk to Jimin after knowing his secret, promising him again and again that you won't say anything to anyone. The waiter returns once more as you're digging into the lasagna, bringing a bottle of wine and showing the two of you the label before he pours it into your glass. You'd be a goddamn liar if you knew what the cursive French words said, but you nod in thanks anyway, bringing the red liquor to your lips, swirling the liquid around slightly as you take the first few sips.

Fuck. This wine is better than sex.

You close your eyes, relishing in the way it coats your tongue. The bitter liquid has a sweet, chocolate aftertaste that's so delicious, you can't help the sigh that escapes your lips. You hear Jimin's tittering chuckle and when you open your eyes, he's staring straight at you, an amused smile on his features. Cheeks flushed pink, you set the wine glass down and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, hands trembling as you pick up the silverware to eat again. Dinner resumes with quiet conversations and at one point, the lights start to dim and your waiter comes back with a tea candle and a small vase filled with roses, setting it on the end of the table closer to the window.

This feels-

"...feels like a date, huh?" Jimin laughs, shaking his head to the side, unaware that he just finished your sentence in your head.

You press your lips together, trying to hide the demure smile that's threatening to take over. And perhaps it's the fact that this is the best conversation you've had with a guy in combination with the delicious wine you just finished, but you gaze into Jimin's dark eyes.

"I wouldn't mind if it is."

Giggles burst from your stomach as you take in his shocked expression. For the first time in the many years you've worked for his company, you've never seen him so wide-eyed before and, dare you say, eager.

"Your dessert, sir." The voice of the waiter seems to shock the both of you, heads snapping to his direction as he presents two bowls of vanilla ice cream. "It's on the house. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening."

You stare at the bowl in front of you, mind churning with possibilities on how you can turn the tables on him. Jimin's always been the one teasing you; is it so wrong that you want it to be your turn? With a wink, you scoop the ice cream in your mouth, letting some of it dribble on the corners of your lips as you bring your tongue to swipe the stray streaks. A quiet moan leaves your lips as you lick the spoon clean, pulling it out with a soft pop. There's a telltale sign of hitched breathing coming from the man in the grey suit and his hands shoot forward to grip at your wrist, a flame of desire burning behind his eyes.

"Don't you fucking dare."

You're not sure what he meant by that exactly, but you break free from his hold to do it again, eyes never straying from his handsome face. You relish at the shadow that passes through his features: jaw locked tight as he glowers at you, pupils so dilated that it turns his irises black. He growls in warning, silently commanding you to stop, but you don't care, the alcohol in your system makes you brave as you forget the embarrassment you've endured that night.

When the bowl is thoroughly emptied of ice cream, you take your finger and dip it in, humming as you coat your digit in the cold sweet cream before popping it in your mouth, eyes closing as you suck.

"Okay. That's it." Jimin whispers harshly, slamming his chair back as he grabs your wrist and pulls you up. "Send the bill electronically," he barks at the poor waiter, who could only bow in respect as he scurries away.

---

"You," Jimin roars when the elevator doors close. In an instant, he's trapped you effectively with his body and you're unable to move without meeting either of his hands that are slammed to the sides of your head. "What the fuck was that?"

Giggling nervously, you play with the hem of your pencil skirt as you look up at him through your lashes, tilting your head slightly to give him an innocent smile. "What's wrong? I was only eating ice cream." You bat your eyelashes for added effect, the stain on your panties growing wetter as you anticipate what he'll do next.

You're surprised, but not really, when he wraps his pretty, ringed hand around your throat, giving it a slight squeeze in warning, a sinful gasp leaving your lips when he looks at you with those lustful eyes.

"You're a fucking brat is what's wrong. And I see that you're not the slightest bit trained." Jimin's breath is hot as it fans across your cheek. As you're about to retort, he rolls his hips forward, dragging his erection against your stomach. Your eyes widen at the drag of his cock, eyes rolling backwards when he presses his knee between your legs and digging it harshly on your wet cunt. You grind on the sensation, moaning wantonly in the confined space.

"Pathetic slut," he spits, tipping your chin harshly upwards to meet his glare. "Look at you, all needy and panting when I've barely touched you. Fuck, you've ruined my pants."

Your walls flutter at the derogatory pet name, hands finding their way to grab at his collar to pitch him forward, needing his lips on yours immediately. Of course, Jimin doesn't indulge you, pulling away just as swiftly to flip you over, your cheek pressed firmly on the cold mirror of the elevator as he loosens his tie, using it to bind your wrists together.

"The safeword is 'audit'," he growls into your ear, his back firmly pressed on yours as he rolls his hips again, directly on your cunt. "Say it, so I know your head is useful for something."

You repeat the word back to him and though you know resistance is futile, you make an attempt to loosen the tie, only to have a firm hand swat at your ass. You groan at the pain, loving the way it causes your legs to shiver as you feel him press up against you again. Though you would typically prefer some privacy, it excites you to be doing something so indecent where people can walk in at any moment.

Cold metal grazes your heat as you feel his fingers drag across your panties. You arch your back and push into his hand, whining at the contact. Jimin chuckles, unrelenting in his slow pace as he traces alphabets on your clothed cunt.

"Already wet for me, dearest? Would you like me to fuck you here? Right now? Where someone can catch us at any point in time?"

You can't form a coherent sentence, tongue laden only with moans that almost resemble his name. Your breath fogs the mirror of the elevator, chest pressed up so tightly against the metal that you struggle to breathe. Jimin rucks your skirt up around your waist and strips you of your ruined panties, presumably stuffing it in his pants, a moan leaving his lips when he sees your glistening cunt for the first time. There's not a moment of hesitation when he plunges his middle finger in, the loud squelching mixed with the sounds of your moans rattling the walls of the elevator.

"Pathetic cunt," Jimin hisses and uses his other hand to tip your chin upwards, your eyes instantly meeting your reflection. The girl in front of you is disheveled, clothes wrinkly and eyes glassy as you take in the evident pleasure written on her face. "Look at you, so beautiful like this. So submissive."

When Jimin inserts another finger in your cunt, you abandon all your thoughts. You scratch the mirror in front of you, unable to find purchase in anything as your cunt gushes arousal down your legs, making a mess on the floor. Then, to your horror, the elevator dings. Your attempt at pushing Jimin off of you is met with a slap against your thighs as he picks up the pace.

"Jimin, fuck, please," your mind tries to form coherent sentences, but he takes the moment to run his thumb on your clit, halting your thoughts immediately.

Your cunt seizes his fingers when the elevator doors open and to your surprise, a grand office greets you instead of some poor shocked souls. Walls lined with bookshelves and a gigantic window on the far end casts the moon's light on a large oak desk. There's sofas in the center of the room, a glass coffee table settled between them, and a large persian carpet nestled underneath.

"Surprised?" Jimin laughs, still thrusting into you albeit he switches to a more languid pace this time. "Your cunt wrapped around me real tight when you thought we were going to get caught. Is that what you want, bitch? You like the idea of possibly getting caught?"

He doesn't let you answer, working his fingers inside of you as you howl his name. "That's not my name, slut. You'll be referring to me as 'sir' from now on," he growls, fingers curling inside you to drag across your g-spot.

After a few more thrusts, he leaves your pussy empty as he struts out of the elevator, sucking on his sodden fingers as he winks at you, his reflection smug in the mirror. You try to gather what energy you have left and you stumble after him, hands bound together and legs weak from a high that you haven't quite achieved.

---

"Tease," you pout, bottom lip quivering as the tears threaten to fall from your eyes when you regain your senses. How can a man this beautiful exude so much power?

Jimin chuckles at that, leaving his chair to lessen the distance between your bodies, rings digging painfully on your cheeks as he grips them tightly. "Tease, am I? Pray tell, how am I the tease?"

"You knew we were going to be in this office, didn't you?" you challenge. "The elevator just automatically spits us here. There's no way we were going to be caught."

Jimin laughs, shrugging his shoulders in confirmation. "I believe I wasn't the one enjoying myself. I'll make it up to you, hm? Come here."

Foolishly, you close the gap between your chests fully and Jimin dips his head lower to capture your lips in a chaste kiss. His hand tugs at the strands of your hair and you gasp, letting him run his tongue all over yours in the process. You can faintly taste yourself and you're raring to go again.

"On your knees, darling."

The dampness that pools between your legs threaten to spill on the floor as you watch Jimin finally unbuckling his pants, revealing his thick, veiny cock into his cold office. You gulp at the saliva that's about to spill from your slack jaw and you pant heavily at the sight of the red, weeping head, wondering if it'll even fit inside you.

He strokes his length a few times, groaning as his gaze drifts towards yours, whose eyes are wide in fascination. "Open," he pants, leaving traces of precum on your lips.

Moaning, you do as you're told and Jimin abruptly shoves his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat in one go. You gag around his length, the burn causing fresh tears to roll off your face, but it's so good. With shallow breaths, you swallow around his length as your hand cups and plays with his balls. The sound of Jimin groaning above you is music to your ears. Your pace starts out slow, saliva clinging to his length and down your chin. Hollowing your cheekbones lets you hear more of those sweet sounds stumbling from Jimin's mouth and so, with one more shallow breath, you increase your efforts until his breathing stutters and he removes himself from you with a hiss and a hard grip on your head.

"If I knew what that mouth could do, I'd fuck you sooner," he rasps, breathing still heavy despite the tired smile he gives you. "Do you want to cum, darling? Creammy cock and make an absolute mess of yourself?"

You nod almost too eagerly.

Chuckling, Jimin moves to sit on his office chair and leaves you on the floor, crooking a finger towards you and patting his leg. With trembling legs, you pad slowly towards his lap, the tie binding your arms together making it hard for you to balance. Your blouse is sticky with a mixture of sweat and saliva, making your skin crawl. All you want is for Jimin to rip it all off, seam to seam, leaving you naked and breathless in front of him, but you say nothing as you get closer, breathing in the heady scent of his cologne instead.

Gingerly, you place both your legs on either side of the chair, trying to balance yourself in the tight space as you lower your aching core. Jimin's not helping, hands gripping firmly at the handles of the seat and a smile dancing on his lips. "If you want to cum, do it yourself, slut," he taunts, rolling his hips upwards to glide his cock on your entrance.

With what little bratty attitude left in your body, you begin to slide across his length instead, smearing his pants with your arousal. You let the moans tumble freely from your lips, mutters of expletives and his name wedged between the sounds as you continue to build your high. A triumphant smile graces your lips as you see Jimin shudder, eyes closing halfway before his grip leaves the chair and slams firmly on your ass. You keen, head thrown back at the pain, yet your cunt gushes out in response, soaking the front of his pants completely.

Jimin tuts as he chuckles, lifting you up and away from his lap and placing you face first on his oak table instead. "My slut still needs to be trained, huh? I guess the earlier punishment in the elevator isn't enough for you, hmm?" Each word is punctuated by a harsh slap on your ass, the flesh reddening with every contact from his hand.

"Ah - Jimin - no more!" you cry, tears flooding your vision at the onslaught of pain and pleasure.

At the mention of his name, Jimin growls, thrusting two fingers harshly inside you, already knuckle-deep as he curls his fingers inside your velvet walls as he continues to spank you with his free hand. "That's not my fucking name, and you know it. I have in my hands a pathetic slut who can't even follow simple instructions. What's going on in that pretty head of yours, hmm? I bet it's the thought of my cock fucking you raw on this table," Jimin laughs as you struggle, another swat on your ass makes you fall flat on the table, unable to keep your legs up any further. He takes the opportunity to land a firm hand across your weeping cunt, massaging the sensitive bud with the tip of his fingers when you shudder at the contact. You don't have to look behind you to know that the table is coated with a new layer of varnish. "You're not done yet, are you? We haven't even fucked yet. On your knees, baby."

"...Sir," you whimper, letting the force of his fingers bring you closer to the edge of oblivion.

"Good girl. Fuck, if you wanted to be punished, you should've just said so. Instead you try and try my patience. Look where that's gotten you?" He ends the statement by ceasing all movements. "Bad girls don't deserve to cum, you know?" he taunts, mocking laughter slipping from his lips as he watches you howl and thrash against the table, orgasm rudely taken away from you.

With those words he slips his ring-clad fingers away from your cunt, the force of the removal causes you to squirt some more, warm juices gushing out of you in waves. Jimin hums his approval, loving the little spasms that wrack through your body..

Jimin walks over to where your head lays and smiles, threading his dainty fingers on your hair to tug your face upwards. Your eyes are unfocused, too lost in the way he's looking at you; at the prideful smirk on his lips. His other hand comes to stroke your cheek before placing his thumb on your lips. His smirk grows into a full-on smile when your eyes close and your mouth opens, sucking and mewling around his digit. "Had enough, slut? Are you going to be a good girl now?" he whispers softly as he places a tender kiss on your sweat-covered forehead.

You nod, letting his thumb go before replying. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Relax, let me take care of you, okay?"

Jimin drops your head gently on the table, smoothing out the strands away from your face as you sigh against his gentle touch. As he walks to the other side of the desk, his fingers don't leave you, always touching a part of your body before it stops to rub circles on your lower back. You moan, arching your tired back to feel more.

"Would you prefer if I give you a massage here," he asks while he digs through your sore back momentarily before Jimin's fingers trail lower and push two digits deep into your cunt, "or here?"

Your head snaps upwards, a guttural sound ripping itself from your throat as Jimin thrusts languidly inside your sopping cunt, relishing in the tremors that shake your body. His free hand massages your ass in an attempt to soothe the smarting flesh caused by his wicked hand.

"Ah - fuck - sir," you gasp, feeling his tongue on your clit as he continues to curl his fingers inside, bringing you dangerously close to the edge with just a few strokes. Jimin hums, the vibration making you rut against his face as you struggle against your binds.

"Can you squirt again, baby?" he moans between licks. "Wanna drink you up."

"I don't know - fuck, fuck, right there, right there. Shit, I'm going to - ah - gonna cum, please, please let me cum, sir!" you keen, gripping the ropes that bind you on your back. Your face is marked with splotches of drool and tears, but you don't care that you look like a mess because Jimin's face is about to be just as ruined.

Jimin thrusts his fingers faster and his mouth sucks up all the juices that dribble freely from your cunt. He's unrelenting as the fire continues to spread across your body, the familiar waves making your toes curl. You're unsure what words you're panting out at the moment, brain and pussy filled with Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, but after a particularly deep thrust, you soak the front of his expensive dress shirt with your arousal, a high-pitched whine bouncing off the walls of his office as you finally reach your end.

His thrusts slow before stopping completely, moaning as he removes his arousal-covered face from your body. Jimin makes quick strides to loom over you before dropping his face to capture your lips in a heated kiss. He pries your mouth open with expertise, tongue chasing yours as you moan, tasting yourself. The kiss is sloppy, drool freely running down the column of your throat as he continues to fuck your mouth with his tongue. When the two of you part, gasping for air, Jimin's eyes are glassy, his jaw set as he takes a hold of your chin gently.

"Open."

Eager to please, you do as you're told, opening your mouth wide and extending your tongue outwards. Jimin tips your face upwards towards him and there's a slight movement from his jaw and throat as you realise what he's about to do. A fat glob of spit falls on your tongue and you moan, shutting your eyes. Jimin does it again, filling your mouth slowly with a pool of saliva and your own arousal. You keep the mixture in your mouth, still parted slightly, so he can see your obedience.

"Good girl. Swallow."

And as you do, your cunt clenches painfully over nothing. You whine against his hold, hands completely numb from the tie and you have no upper body strength left to keep you up. Jimin kisses you chastely once more as he places your head on the table. Moving back to the other side, he unties your wrists with deft fingers, massaging them to get the blood flow going.

"Hands and knees on the table," he commands, voice ringing from all directions.

Limbs trembling and bones screaming with exhaustion, you force yourself to comply, even as you hear your joints popping from the tension in your body. Praise trickles out of Jimin's mouth with careless abandon as he massages your hips, voice low as he remarks how good you're doing, turning your body pliant in his hands.

And - oh, there. Jimin's cockhead rubs against your weeping cunt, slapping it against your clit a few times only to bury himself all the way to the hilt, a groan slipping from his plush lips as your walls clench around him. You buck your hips backward in an effort to get used to his length, silently begging for him to move slowly at first.

"I should've fucked you ages ago. Fuck, you're so tight, baby."

Jimin ruts slowly into you, a small bit of mercy, as he lets you adjust to the stretch of his cock. You shudder at the slight burn, the fullness inside you making you writhe on the wooden table as you wiggle your hips. There's a chuckle from behind you as Jimin unsheathes himself, leaving only the head, before abruptly slamming his cock wholly inside. Your muffled whimpers and pants do nothing to stop his movements as he continues, gradually building up momentum until he's rapidly thrusting his cock deep in your pussy.

For the second time that night, Jimin brings you closer to the edge of pleasure, flame erupting from your core as he snakes a hand to play with your clit. He's unrelentless, his desire to drive you crazy fueling the snap of his hips, especially when he brings a knee on the table to fuck you deeper, the angle causing his cock to brush repeatedly on your g-spot. With only a few more thrusts, your battered cunt spasms, walls flutter tightly against his length, and you see stars when you close your eyes. There isn't enough time to give him a warning as you cum and you scream his name as you flood his table again.

Jimin growls your name, his high also rapidly approaching as his hands leave your hips to grip your hair in a makeshift ponytail, pulling you away from the table. "Fuck, this cunt was made for me. I'm going to fuck you full of my cum." His words send fresh shivers down your spine as you keen, muscles screaming with exhaustion and overstimulation as he continues to pound his cock repeatedly inside you. "Yeah? You like the idea of walking around filled with my cum? Oh, fuck, baby, you're going to be the death of me."

With a final grunt and a stutter in his hips, Jimin cums, heat filling your insides as he paints it white and you moan his name in reverence, tightening your cunt to milk him of his cum completely. He removes himself from you with a groan, eyes dark with lust as he watches his arousal oozing from your cunt. You groan tiredly when you feel his fingers fuck the cum back inside, a silent instruction to keep it in for as long as you could.

A pleased hum leaves his lips at the sight of you on the table and with a gentleness that he hasn't displayed all night, he lifts you up and carries you to the dark sofa in the center of the room, dropping your tired body on the heaps of pillows. Though he had instructed you to keep his cum inside, he leaves momentarily and comes back with a handkerchief, wiping the lower part of your body as you try to steady your breathing.

"Let me take you home. You've been wonderful," he murmurs as he sits next to you, lifting your head so it rests on his lap. His hands massage your battered limbs and you whine, the strain beginning to settle in from fucking on a hard surface.

"I have work to do…" you whisper. "This was only supposed to be dinner."

Jimin chuckles, pride twinkling in his eyes. "I'm the boss. I'm commanding you to worry about work tomorrow. After all, you've already proven yourself to me plenty." He opens his cellphone then, talking in hushed noises as his hand drifts to play with your hair. You only hear bits of conversation as your eyes droop close, the exhaustion catching up to you, rendering you close to sleep.

Your eyes snap open when Jimin whispers your name, still stroking your hair. "Come on, let's get some sleep. I've reserved a room already." He helps you up and goes to the elevator, picking up your ruined panties along the way as you blush, trying to fix your appearance to look semi-presentable.

"Do you want to know something funny?"

You tilt your chin in his direction, having just finished putting your hair in a bun.

"Our room number is 69."

thank you so much for reading. please feel free to like and reblog to share the story with everyone! my inbox is always open for kind words and comments!

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Posted: 6.22.21 at 2:20am CST

all of you | masterlist

banner by the lovely @kithtaehyung​ 💕​

pairing ↠ ceo!jimin x reader

genre ↠ friends to lovers | arranged marriage AU (fluff, angst, smut)

18+ | series warnings ↠ drinking, swearing, explicit sexual content, an unwanted arranged marriage, pregnancy. (warnings will be more detailed for each part.)

summary ↠ Park Jimin is your definition of perfect. He’s talented, handsome, and dedicated to everything he does, making him the man of your dreams. But what happens when you both wake up one day and realise that’s all you had together…  a short dream?

word count ↠ 115k+

↠  prologue

↠ part 1

↠ part 2 (m)

↠ part 3

↠ part 4 (m)

↠ part 5

↠ part 6

↠ part 7

↠ part 8 (m)

↠ all of you: forever (epilogue)

bonus drabbles: (coming soon!)

# 1 — the first time

# 2 — tobias returns

mini-playlist here!

taglist is open — comment/dm/send an ask to be added :)

if you read and enjoy this series, please let me know!  send an ask / message / comment — it would mean so much to me! thank you <3

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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Lovely Demons (M)

Author: @kpopfanfictrash as part of the Nightmare on Tumblr.com collab with @underthejoon , @bratkook​ , @hobidreams​ , @junghelioseok​ , @jungkxook​ and @suga-kookiemonster​ 

Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight FOR THIS MOODBOARD LIKE. look at it. 

Pairing: Jimin / Reader (female)

Genre:  Fantasy / Enemies to Lovers / Princes of Hell!AU / Witch!AU

Word Count: 41,774

Rating/Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Fingering, dirty talk, oral (female), condom-less sex (with mention of other protection), breast play. 

Graphic injuries occur to main characters throughout the story. There are action/fight scenes.

Summary:   As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.

[[ Lovely Demons Glossary ]] 

[[ Cross-Posted to Wattpad ]]

Keep reading

excited to know how this goes from here!!

(Please add me in the tag list)

Love Again | PJM (One)

Summary: A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

Pairing: Jimin x Female reader

Genre: exes au, exes to ???, fluff, angst, smut

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of depression, mentions of sex, uhhh I think that’s it.

Notes: A new story! I hope you guys are able to give it a chance. It will have quite a bit of angst but mostly it will be very fun and messy. It won’t be a very long series but I think for those who will read it will like it! (here’s hoping) Send an ask if you want to be added to a tag list or just want to chat:)

Tag list: @yoongimentita7 @aajames217

© taestefully-in-luv

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimin’s eyes drag around the place—the stage is covered in squeaky dark wood and obvious layers of dust. He closes his eyes and lets a long sigh leave his mouth as he tries to collect himself. He really can’t believe he is here again…not just this theatre…but this city. A voice suddenly speaks up and Jimin is shooting his eyes open, his hardened gaze falling onto Mr. Smith, the man he just auditioned for just a week prior.

“Oh, don’t look so unimpressed, Jimin.” The older man quietly chuckles, walking closer. “I know you may have gotten used to something of a different standard…but…well, this is what we’ve got.”

“It’s been five years and you still haven’t replaced these drapes?” Jimin points at the dark red curtains that look past their expiration date.

“With our budget?” The old man raises a brow, “You’re lucky you are even getting paid at this point.”

Jimin rolls his head back, his eyes closing again as he groans—not caring how obvious he is making it that he is less than happy to be here. Mr. Smith takes a moment to watch Jimin…the first thing he has noticed is the change in hair color since the last time he saw him—five years ago—he was a dark haired man back then but now is sporting a soft blonde.

“Jimin…” Mr. Smith says his name with a careful, tender tone. His hand reaches forward, gripping Jimin’s shoulder. This earns him a curious look from Jimin, his eyes opening and his head tilting towards the shorter man.

“I don’t know what happened in New York…” Mr. Smith takes a pause to think on his next words, “Well, it doesn’t matter.” He decides to grin genuinely, squeezing Jimin. “You’re back and I know with you taking the lead in these productions again we are sure to sell out!”

The second thing he has noticed in Jimin is his change in personality. He understands five years is enough time for a person to change or grow or whatever, but Jimin has changed in a way that makes Mr. Smith question if this is even the same guy. He doesn’t know what occurred in New York that completely wiped the smile off Jimin’s face but whatever happened did two things. One, it hardened the poor boy, Mr. Smith thinks. And two, it made him an even more incredible performer.

Last week he auditioned for the role of Peter Pan, the male lead in the upcoming production. But he paired it with an intense and emotional dance piece that left Mr. Smith speechless. Clearly his work and time in New York really perfected his performance abilities—but the raw emotion and utterly devastating expressions he showed were enough for Mr. Smith to see the change in Jimin. Enough to see he is no longer the fun, mischievous, charismatic and dare he say flirty boy.

“Are you nearby?” Mr. Smith asks, referring to Jimin’s living situation.

“Literally down the street…” Jimin groans again, “The only place I can really afford with the paychecks I will be getting.”

“You know you used to not mind the pay here?” Mr. Smith’s cheery laughter only makes Jimin roll his eyes.

“Yeah, well back then I was used to being a broke college student. Only needed money for cheap food from the convenience store.”

“Don’t forget for the times you begged me for a little extra so you could take your girlfriend on those dates you insisted on…oh, what was her name?” Mr. Smith glances up at the various lights on the ceiling as he thought about it. Jimin slowly turns his head towards Mr. Smith…his body tensing unknowingly as he waits for him to figure it out. The name he was looking for. Your name.

“Ah…y/n!”

Jimin only tensed more…his body reacting to the sound of your name faster than his mind. His brain finally starts processing the word that slipped out of Mr. Smith’s mouth…a word—a name—he hasn’t heard in years.

“Did you two stay in contact when you left for New York? You were awfully close.” Mr. Smith innocently reminds Jimin of the past, “You two really brought out such fun sides in one another.”

Jimin doesn’t like how his insides feel at the mention of you…he stares at Mr. Smith without blinking, his gaze remaining the same as before—empty eyes, Mr. Smith thinks.

“No.” Jimin says almost under his breath, “No.” he says more clearly now, his voice sounding a little strained. “We didn’t.”

“Ah, well that’s too bad.” Mr. Smith’s eyes find the floor as he nods his head, thoughts of how life is. It’s not too surprising that a couple parts way under those circumstances but it really is too bad, he thinks.

“Well. I guess I will see you for rehearsals tomorrow.” Mr. Smith offers Jimin a smile and a pat on the shoulder before leaving him to observe the stage.

Jimin watches as Mr. Smith makes his way out of the auditorium…when the man was finally out of the room, Jimin turned his head back towards the stage and felt the heaviness he has grown all too familiar with come back to haunt him.

This theatre. This city. The place he left five years ago to pursue his dreams in New York. He never saw himself coming back here…he never saw himself go through life backwards yet here he is. From leading some of the most popular and loved Broadway productions to here—his city’s local theatre. He lets out a pathetic puff of air, he almost wants to laugh. But how could he? He doesn’t even remember the last time he laughed.

Jimin takes one last look at the stage that creaks with every step and accepts his situation. It’s not like he would be wanted anywhere else…the reputation of him being someone who was fired from Broadway…well, it doesn’t look good. Although, they used the term ‘let go’ everyone in this world has heard enough rumors of his behavior that led to such thing. Fucking assholes, he thinks.

He has only been back here—his hometown—for maybe 5 months now. Crashing at his parents as he wallowed in his sad, depressing life. But his parents constantly eyed him with pity, constantly reminding him why he should be as depressed as he is. So, he waited for a new production to be announced at the theatre and surprised Mr. Smith with an audition. He landed the role without much thought on Mr. Smith’s part, the old man just happy to see Jimin’s familiar face.

He took what he had in his savings and started renting out an apartment in an old, dingy building a block away. He just needs to move forward with his life the best way he can…performing. In those moments when he is in character, he only has their problems. He doesn’t have to be Jimin. He can pretend for a while.

Eventually he got into his new routine…weeks pass and every day is more or less the same. He comes to work for rehearsals and stays for hours even after they are done…he connects to a speaker and puts on one of his dance playlists and works himself into exhaustion. His expression remains the same as the days go on…his empty eyes never making eye contact with one of his costars for more than two seconds.

Jimin refuses his costars when they invite him out, he never smiles for them or has conversations. In fact, most of the words he says to others are just his lines as his character. He is lonely and he wants to stay that way. Because truly at this point nothing actually brings him joy. He lost everything that meant something to him.

“You know,” A voice cuts in. Jimin recognizes it immediately, already rolling his eyes, keeping his back to the owner.

“If you keep practicing like this you will become so amazing that everyone else is going to look like amateurs and well, that just wouldn’t be fair.”

Jimin quietly huffs out before spinning in his spot to face the owner of the voice.

“What do you need, Lucy?” He looks at her, clearly tired from the looks of it.

“Well, hello to you too. I am doing fine thank you—”

“Come on,” he rubs his temple, “What’s up?”

Lucy playfully rolls her eyes, a sign she isn’t actually offended by Jimin…unlike many others.

“I finished your costume.” She grins proudly, her hands reaching out to stuff the material in his own hands. “Try it on for me so I can make sure everything is perfect.”

“Oh?” He looks down at the green costume, “I’m sure it’s fine. I can try it on later, I really want to finish up what I was doing.”

“Oh, sure, sure.” Lucy gestures towards him, urging him to continue. “Be my guest.”

“Alone.” Jimin narrows his eyes at her and uses his hand to shoo her away but Lucy just stands here, a goofy grin on her face.

“Actually I have been watching you—well, your dance moves. And honestly, I think I have it pretty much nailed.”

Well, it makes sense, Jimin thinks. Lucy has lingered for weeks now, always bugging him with gossip or some lame joke that she insists is ‘hilarious’. She is the head of costumes, her fashion design degree allowing her to hold down a job—somewhat—in the field. Does she wish she was creating for runway models? Sure. But theatre can be fun…even if she was one of those people in high school who made fun of theatre kids.

“Yeah, I bet you have a real talent.” Jimin brushes past her, squatting down to the floor as he adjusts the volume on the speaker.

“Oh definitely.” She agrees right away, “Would you like to see?”

“Lucy—”

“Oh, come on! What if I want to audition for the next production? I could be a really cute side character with amazing moves, you know, the type of character the audience falls in love with and totally wish that I had more lines—”

“Okay.” Jimin stands, his tired expression only hardening. “Go for it.”

“Okay, let me get in the zone.” Lucy channels her inner Sharpay from High School Musical as she does some warm up exercises. She was hoping Jimin would laugh even a little at her attempt to mimic the character perfectly. She rolls her eyes with the slump of her shoulders before saying fuck it and giving her best shot at a dance routine.

And it is horrible. Truly the worst thing Jimin has ever seen. Her clumsy feet, her awkward shimmying shoulders and her incredible talent for being off beat. But she is dedicated and nothing amuses Jimin more. For the first time that she has ever seen it, the corner of Jimin’s lips lift and finally, the sound of Jimin’s laughter is filling the auditorium.

Lucy’s eyes go wide, her genuine shock written all over her face before she breaks into the most heartwarming grin.

“You laughed.” She says softly, almost proud.

Jimin’s laughter starts to ease as he composes himself but the atrocious image of her dancing is still in his head and he can’t help but smile.

“Yeah.” He agrees kind of quietly, “I guess I did.”

In that moment, Jimin felt his body relax for the first time in ages. He stares at Lucy, processing how good it feels to have a smile on his face. He doesn’t want to feel guilty for smiling and for the first time, he doesn’t. For the first time in so long someone has been able to make Jimin laugh…he doesn’t know what can come out of this but maybe this is what he needs. A distraction.

“Would you,” Jimin clears his throat. “Would you like to get some dinner with me?”

3 Months later

“Really riveting stuff.” Your monotone voice, clearly unenthused, doesn’t go noticed by your date for the night.

“Oh I know!” his wide smile almost makes you want to get up and leave. “That’s the thing though, women really just—”

“Oh, yes. Please tell me how women are.” You tilt your head and offer one of your sweeter smiles. “Since you are the expert.” You blink at him repeatedly, hoping he gets the hint.

“Of course” he agrees quickly making you drop your knife to the plate while shaking your head. “Women who think they need to orgasm every time are actually—”

And this is when you decide to tune him out completely, is a free meal really worth all of this? Dave was honestly full of red flags since the beginning but you decided to go through with it regardless because hey, maybe the sex would be decent enough. But considering his current topic, you have thrown that idea out completely.

“Oh no,” you say blandly, “I think I am getting a call.” You glance down at your phone on the table, its screen completely black.

Dave looks at your phone and tilts his head to the side, expressing a look of question on his face.

“I don’t think it is—”

“Yup.” You say again, doing little to convince him. You pick it up and bring it to your ear and start mumbling some random words. Dave stares at you and accepts that maybe you are on the phone. Fucking idiot.

You finally lower the phone and then slide it in your purse before looking up and locking eyes with Dave.

“Yeah, it’s an emergency.” You tell him, an exaggerated look of apology on your face. “I have to go. But thanks for such a…” You gesture around the table and leave it at that, standing up from your chair and grabbing your bag. You turn to leave when you hear Dave calling out after you but you ignore his voice, instead focusing on finding the restaurants exit.

Maybe just maybe you should have done this much earlier. Perhaps around the time he first opened his mouth when he saw you. “Oh thank god, you are actually hot.” Or maybe even when you both sat down at the table and he was already trying to suggest you stick to salad tonight. Definitely would have been a good time when he mentioned his ex and brought up how beautiful she is then paused and added, “Well, you’re hot too.” It was just a night of red flag after red flag. But his opinion on women’s orgasms was kind of just the last straw.

If you are being honest, this night of a failed date isn’t even surprising anymore. This just seems to be your luck lately. Even when the man isn’t totally unbearable, you just find yourself not satisfied every time. That includes with the conversation, the sex and well, the company in general. You are honestly just bored. Feeling left more and more unimpressed as time goes, something like ‘excitement’ never making your body tingle.

You feel the crisp breeze on your exposed skin, goosebumps suddenly rising on your body and you stare down at the bumps forming and chuckle bitterly. You wish it were a man giving your body such reaction but well, nature will have to do.

You quickly make your way to your car in the parking lot, your shoes clacking against the pavement, a sound you actually enjoy. Once inside your car, you take your phone out and dial the only person you can think of that will turn this night around. Your favorite coworker and also favorite friend.

“Come on, don’t let me down.” You groan to yourself as you listen to each mocking ring happening on the other side of your phone. You’re sure there are only a couple rings left before you are greeted with a voicemail box, a frown decorating your face at the thought but suddenly you are met with a chipper ‘Hello’ instead.

“Hoseok!” You whine theatrically, “Thank god.”

“Yes, thank god for me.” Hoseok teases on the other line, “But why this time?”

“Disaster date.” You inform with a shrug that he can’t see but definitely can imagine. “You know how it is already. Anyway, since we already saw that coming I am sure you can see what’s coming next.”

“Your strong desire to go out and get shit faced?” Hoseok asks with a playful tone, already knowing your answer. “I’ll inform the rest of the group. What do you say? Diablos?”

“Oh god,” Diablos is one of those places that you hardly actually remember your time spent there—it’s probably the fault of their Thursday night deal…$1 tequila shots.

“Hey, you want shit faced! I am just trying to help you with that.”

“I feel like shit faced and dying a horrible death are actually two different things.”

“Oh don’t act like you aren’t going to be downing those shots and telling all of us how much you love us by the end of the night.” Hoseok giggles to himself while you notice the sound of his fingers tapping against his screen. “Okay, we got confirmation from Jeremey, Naomi and Lucy in the group. And literally every single one of them complained about the fact we are going to Diablos. Which you know, only makes me want to go there more.”

“You are a heathen.” You laugh into the phone, “Lucy is coming too? No surprise there.” Hoseok can hear the smirk in your voice and is immediately groaning.

“It’s not like that!” He tries defending, “You know guys and girls can be just friends right?”

“Obviously, dumbass. But when I am just friends with my guy friends I don’t have total heart eyes like some cartoon character.”

“Anyway, meeting time is pronto. So get your ass over to Diablos.” Hoseok doesn’t wait for you to respond, you just hear new silence on the other line as he had ended the call.

Hoseok never lets you drink alone…if you are getting shit faced well, so is he. You chuckle to yourself, the thought of going to work tomorrow and seeing Hoseok just as miserable as you with a heavy hangover brings a little comfort. You finally stick your keys in the ignition and turn on the car and begin making your way to the bar.

You aren’t surprised…with a deal like $1 tequila shots and the fact people love making horrible decisions, the bar is packed. You fit right in though, being a person who also loves to make horrible decisions, you’re well aware of that fact as you swallow another disgusting shot of cheap tequila.

“Oh my god, do you think we will get in trouble tomorrow if we just…slept through that 9 am meeting?” Hoseok asks, his raised brows making you laugh. You wish he was joking but unfortunately, you know him, and you know he is serious.

“Well, if we get fired, we get fired together.” You bring your mixed drink to his as you both clank your glasses in cheers.

“I actually have no idea how you two haven’t already been fired.” Jeremy deadpans, “You both make me look so good at work. And I didn’t even show up yesterday.”

“Don’t know how Hoseok has a job but we all know Mr. Lincoln wants to fuck y/n so she somehow manages.” Naomi points out, laughing when you glare at her. “I vote you do fuck him though. God, how steamy would that be?”

“That would literally be so—you do realize he is married!” You shudder at the thought of fucking your boss, “Plus, he does not want to fuck me.”

“Nah, he definitely does. Probably jerking it to the thought of you when he closes his blinds in his office.” Hoseok starts jerking his hand up and down to demonstrate and you hit his shoulder making him laugh harder.

“This is so unfair.” Lucy pouts, “I wish I worked with you guys too. I never know what you guys are talking about half the time…so, our usual rule! No work talk!” She grins happily, knowing you all will agree because you know, fuck work and all that.

“Fine by me!” Jeremey sings, “How’s your job going though, Lucy?”

“Yeah, aren’t you guys going to have a show soon?” Hoseok nods his head towards the direction of an open table and you all follow. “We would love to go and support. See all the amazing costumes you created!”

“Oh yes, please come! The male lead is pretty sexy.” Lucy smirks, making you all laugh as you sit down.

“You’re just saying that because he is the guy you are currently seeing.” Hoseok rolls his eyes, “Does he have any talents? Or like, is sexy all he good at?”

You snort, listening to them talk.

“Hobi,” you chime in cutely, “Being sexy takes a lot of skill.” You assure him and he gives you an unamused look. He’s always like this when Lucy brings up a new guy she is seeing.

“It really does though,” Naomi agrees, “I would know.”

“It might be your only skill then…” Jeremy says, earning him a soft punch to his arm, Naomi then giving him the middle finger.

“Anyway,” Hoseok turns his attention to you, “What was wrong with this guy?”

“Huh?” you say, a little caught off guard as you suck up your drink.

“Your disaster date.” He reminds you, “They always end in disaster so what was wrong this time?”

“Oh that.” You dramatically get the chills, shaking your body with a shudder. “Too many things to count but I about had it when he tried schooling me on women’s orgasms. Basically, he would have never given me one.”

“Bullet dodged.” Naomi gives you her best disturbed face along with a look of pity. “Men, am I right?”

“I’m so sorry to hear that y/n.” Lucy gasps, “That’s horrible!” Then her face lights up with an idea, “I could always set you up with someone from the theatre? There’s some pretty decent looking guys…” Lucy nibbles on her lip before breaking into her usual grin. “Actually, forget the cast. There’s this pretty hot dude who works with the stage lighting. And—”

You feel your heart twist a little, the mention of the theatre leaving a weird taste in your mouth. You’re a grown ass woman and you don’t think of the past too often but sometimes when there are things to remind you, you feel a little uncomfortable.

“Uh, no. Not really into that scene.” You chuckle awkwardly, “No offense!” you get out quickly, “I just—”

“Oh none taken. They’re kind of nerdy, I get it.” Lucy winks before bringing her drink to her lips and taking a sip.

“So then you are into nerds?” Hoseok playfully nudges her shoulder with his.

“Only if they are sexy.” Lucy nods her head in approval, “Real sexy.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes again, his smile wide as usual. You don’t remember how they met but they became friends and since then Lucy has been hanging with your group.

“I really need to meet this guy. Make sure he’s the real deal.” Hoseok eyes Lucy with a grin, “You sometimes have trouble choosing someone decent.”

“Ew, yeah. Remember that dude you brought that one time and he literally hit on me in front of you!” Naomi shouts over the music, “He was a creep.”

“Don’t feel too special,” Jeremey shakes his head, “He also hit on me in front of everyone too.”

“Oh yeah,” Hoseok bursts out into laughter, “That was fucking gold.” Then Hoseok’s attention goes from Jeremey to his buzzing phone, “Oh finally.” He mutters before his head whips up and he is smiling at you deviously.

“What…” You narrow your eyes, “You did something, I can tell.”

“Just trying to end your unlucky streak.” He winks, your face dropping quickly.

“I think there is only one thing that could end y/n’s unlucky streak…” Naomi’s face lights up with amusement. “Please fucking tell me you hit him up.”

“Hoseok, what the fuck!” You lean over the table to snatch his phone from him and stare at the screen. “I am going to kill you.” You say, staring down at his latest incoming text.

“We all know why you aren’t satisfied with any dude you go out with…” Naomi sips her drink, her knowing eyes fluttering cutely at you. “Because none of them are the one you have a massive crush on.”

“It’s not massive…” is all you manage to say, your voice gone quiet as you look around the table, your friends trying to hold in their childish giggles.

“Remind me again why you two haven’t fucked yet?” Jeremy asks, “Or like gone on a date, if that’s what you’re more into.”

Your lips set into a firm line as you glare at Jeremy because he knows exactly why. His lips curl into a demonic looking smile, nodding his head like he just remembered.

“Ah yes, that’s right! Because you accidentally fucked his best friend in his apartment, not knowing they are roommates.”

“God, it sounds horrific every time I hear it.” Hoseok tries to contain his laughter again. “You have this dude you have a massive crush on—”

“Not massive.” You defend in a pout.

“—and you had been trying your hardest to get his attention, even kind of getting it at one point. Then went out one night, found some guy to hook up with, went home with him…only to see the dude you were trying to woo the next morning at breakfast.” Hoseok loses his shit, his loud laugh booming in the bar. Everyone joins of course, loving how sulky you are getting.

“Honestly, I’ve been in a similar situation before.” Lucy giggles. “Turned into a threesome though.”

“Didn’t they both try to date you after?” Hoseok looks over at Lucy, “I remember you were trying to decide between the two, then ended up with both.” He shakes his head with a laugh.

“Your dating history is always so wild.” Naomi applauds her, “We should all be taking tips from her.”

“Anyway.” You grit your teeth in annoyance, “Why did you invite him?”

“Oh, relax. It’s been like two years since then. I’m sure the bro code has expired and it’s fine by now.” Hoseok starts chugging his drink back, his smug smile irritating you further.

“I don’t blame you for still having a thing for him though,” Naomi nods her head, “He’s a hunk, not going to lie.”

You sigh out, not believing it really has been two years that you’ve maintained a crush on the same guy. You still have Hoseok’s phone in your hand when it vibrates, another text from you know who.

Namjoon 11:22pm

On the way.

“Here’s your stupid phone back.” You groan, sliding Hoseok’s device across the table. “Suddenly I don’t feel drunk enough.” You stand from your chair and nod towards the bar. “Anyone want something?”

“Oh me!” Lucy stands as well, “I’ll come with you.”

You both push your way through the crowd, you’re basically Lucy’s body guard, the very petite girl almost getting her fucking lights knocked out by random elbows as you try to make a path for you both.

The bar is busy as usual, cheap shots of tequila getting passed around like candy. You almost vomit at the smell of the shots, realizing maybe a shot isn’t the route you want to go.

You and Lucy wait for an opening to settle against the wooden bar and wait your turn for the bartender to notice one of you.

“So.” Lucy leans her head against her hand on the bar top, “I think I want to introduce my new guy to you all.” She says, her voice sounding a little nervous.

“Hm?” you glance down at her, “Your new—oh! Yeah, sounds cool. More the merrier, I guess.”

“Yes, but…” Lucy’s eyes slide to the side, maybe finding Hoseok before she looks at you again. “I don’t want to like overwhelm him with like a big group setting you know?”

“Oh?” Your head snaps back up towards the bartender who is now waiting on you to give your order. You order your mixed drinks and when the bartender gives her ‘ok’ you look back towards Lucy again. “What did you have in mind then?”

“What do you say you meet me for coffee this weekend?” Lucy asks, her eyes filling with hope. “I will tell him to meet with us and we can just hang out, you know? I really feel like out of everyone you two would really get along!”

“M-Me?” You point at yourself, a little surprised by Lucy’s request. “You want me to meet him first?”

“Honestly, you guys would really vibe well, I think. Plus, you are the coolest one here.” She winks at you and you feel yourself blush a little at the compliment.

“I guess that’s fine?” You question, “Sure—” Suddenly, the bartender is sliding over your drinks and you turn to grab them, ending the conversation there.

The walk back to the table is a long one, you slightly stumble through the crowded dance floor, avoiding sweaty bodies as they move all around you. It doesn’t help that at the moment it’s just you and Lucy, a pretty pair to a lot of onlookers. Naturally, you two are stopped by a pair of guys looking to get lucky tonight. You exchange some meaningless words, and finally bid farewell, disappointing the men who didn’t succeed in picking you up.

You spot the table your friends occupy when your eyes expand, you see Namjoon and Yoongi getting comfortable in some chairs at the table as well. You look around the table as you get closer and say a few greetings. Your eyes going straight to your good friend Hobi, your panicked expression making him grin awkwardly.

You sit down in your chair when Jeremey leans over to whisper into your ear.

“What are the fucking odds he would show up with his friend that you fucked?” He teases while you turn red from embarrassment.

“Shut up.” You pinch his side and he yelps, gaining the attention from everyone around the table.

“Hey y/n. It’s been a while right?” Namjoon’s voice makes its way to your ears and you turn to face him. You muster a smile that feels forced but you continue to try it anyway.

“Yeah. It has.” Then your eyes find Yoongi, “Hi.” You nod at him awkwardly, and he waves his hand with a smile that reminds you why you hooked up with him in the first place.

“Good to see you, y/n.” He says.

You know most people know this, how being around certain people bring out certain sides of you. With most men you are confident, proud, nonchalant, and maybe just a tad bit bitchy if they deserve it. But around someone like Namjoon, he brings out sides of you that you don’t even recognize half the time…someone who tries to come off as shy, cute and flustered at just the sound of his voice.

Yoongi got really confused when Namjoon talked about you, he mentioned how sweet and shy you were. He talked about how he wished you would speak up more often…Yoongi wondered if they were talking about the same y/n. The same girl who just left in a hurry when they all realized they knew one another. Yoongi didn’t meet that version of you—no, he got to know the woman who knows exactly what she wants. Someone confident, sexy and a little mean, he will admit. But he realized at the time, it was a part of your charm. It didn’t take much for him to agree to sleep with you, your straight forward attitude going straight to his dick.

But now, he realized after some time that the version of you that Namjoon knew, was the you that had a crush. God, you were so obvious. He stares at you now, seeing how flustered you are once again as Namjoon makes conversation with you.

“It’s great timing actually,” Namjoon takes a swig of his beer. “I was looking to go out tonight as well!”

“Oh really? What’s the occasion?” Naomi asks, taking a sip of her own drink.

“Celebration.” Namjoon grins, his dimpled smile making your heart flutter.

“Of?” Hoseok pries further. “Wait. Oh shit, it’s for your book, right?”

“Yup. Finally got it published.” Namjoon leans back in his chair, his arms going above his head, your stupid little eyes following his every movement. His biceps flex and you accept that you aren’t making it out alive tonight.

“Wow! A book!” Lucy squeals, “I wish I was good at writing, I have a lot to say but man, putting it on paper is not my specialty.” She giggles to herself, the rest of the group nodding along in agreement.

“What’s your book about?” Jeremy sounds genuinely interested, “I can only imagine it’s full of life quotes and solid advice.”

“Actually…that’s not far off.” Namjoon blushes, a small, proud smile on his lips. “It’s nothing really though.”

“Oh stop that.” Yoongi shakes his head, “It’s amazing. I read it so quickly and felt surprised he came up with all of that!”

“Surprised?” Namjoon chuckles, “I speak profoundly at all times.”

“Yeah, right.” Yoongi teases, “This morning you couldn’t even remember what you were talking about mid-sentence. Paused. Thought about it for a moment then ending up saying “and you know, blah, blah, blah.”

“Yeah. Very profound.” Namjoon begins laughing and you join, his eyes shooting to yours. He softens when he hears your giggles leave your mouth, something he feels like he doesn’t see too often.

“I feel like you are more dressed up than everyone else.” Namjoon points out, his eyes on you. “Were you doing something before this?”

“Disaster date.” Hoseok answers for you. “She knew he couldn’t give her an orgasm.” He shakes his head with exaggerated sadness. “Devastating, right?”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, you two speak with just a look and he snickers to himself even though he can read your expression well—you’re totally going to kill him later.

“Oh.” Namjoon looks a little surprised, a little awkward and a lot of cute. “That’s uh, too bad.” He swallows more of his beer.

“Orgasms are important.” Yoongi winks at you and you look at him, clearly unamused.

“Anyway,” you roll your eyes to the back of your head, as sassily as you can manage. “I’m sure no one is shocked at how totally anticlimactic my dating life is. Has been for some time.” You lazily take your drink in your hand and chug the entire thing through your straw.

“Still think you should just fuck our boss.” Naomi comments nonchalantly, making you choke on your drink.

“Really?” you wipe at your mouth, cleaning some of your drink off your skin. “He is literally married!”

“You’d be totally living that main character life like you’re in some drama.” She tries to reason, as if that was a totally acceptable thing to say.

“As entertaining as that would be,” Hoseok laughs, “I think she needs someone closer in age.”

“What I need is to stop being the center of conversation and throw away the topic of my dating life into like a trash can.” You say with a straight face.

“Oh come on, don’t be lame.” Hoseok slurs, “We’re all basically single here.”

“I literally have a boyfriend?” Naomi raises her hand, “Why do you guys always forget this?”

“It’s long distance, doesn’t count.” Hoseok shrugs.

“You’re the worst. It totally counts.”

“When’s the last time you guys fucked?”

“When I saw him last?”

“Which was?”

“Like…four months ago or so?”

“See?” Hoseok looks at everyone like he’s made his point. “Basically single!”

“I am in a serious relationship! That’s more than any of you can say,” Naomi motions towards all of you. “When’s the last time you guys were really committed to someone, hm?”

“I have had a few serious relationships in the last couple of years.” Hoseok says proudly, “So,”

“Same.” Everyone starts collectively saying around the table…well, everyone except you. This causes Hoseok to realize and he becomes too curious for your liking.

“You know…you haven’t been in anything serious since I have known you y/n.” he decides to call you out, “I mean, you’ve been on a shit ton of disaster dates but you’ve like, never had a boyfriend.”

You release a long, tired breath. Realizing you are still not drunk enough. You notice everyone’s eyes on you as they realize as well.

“It’s not like I have never had a boyfriend, guys.” You scoff, “Jeez. You—”

“It’s true!” Namjoon speaks up, “In college…like even after graduation she had a boyfriend. It was super serious too.”

Right. Unlike everyone else here, you actually have known Namjoon the longest. You both attended school together and that’s how you got to know him.

“What was his name again? Ah—”

“It doesn’t matter.” You cut him off quickly. “Yeah, I guess I had a thing back then.” You shrug, “But that was like…what? Five years ago?”

“Wow!” Lucy sings out, “I can’t even imagine you with an actual boyfriend. You’re so…I don’t know, like Miss Independent, you know?”

“Independent?” Namjoon chuckles, “They were totally attached at the hip.”

“y/n? Our y/n? In love?” Jeremey gasps, “I just refuse to believe it.”

“Same.” Naomi points at you, “Remember that time you went out with a guy and when you realized you weren’t into him you told him you were possibly pregnant with another man’s baby just so he would lose interest?”

“Didn’t she use that line on more than one?” Hoseok yelps when he feels you kick his leg under the table.

“It sounds like you just need to find a guy you actually like, y/n.” Namjoon smiles at you, it’s one of those smiles that make you feel like you are floating. He has no idea. Or maybe he does. But you really wish that person would be him.

“I think she does have someone she actually li—” Hoseok yelps again when you continue finding that sensitive spot on his shin with your foot.

“I would love if we shifted the focus of this conversation.” You basically beg, groaning into your hands and deciding that yup, definitely not drunk enough.

With it nearing 2 am, you have finally let Diablos do it’s nasty little number on you. Tempt you with those $1 shots and have you making questionable decisions. The first one being the guy you are currently grinding against, his hands roaming your body as you try to remember how you even ended up on the dance floor.

You waste no time in turning around to see what this man even looks like and you are questioning your taste in men now. He isn’t exactly you know, drop dead gorgeous or anything. In fact, if you were getting a little excited and wet from the grinding, well that dried up real fast. You awkwardly escape his arms and without saying a word, you just walk away. Classic.

“I was wondering if you were actually into him.” You hear a deep voice from behind you. “I definitely have no idea what your type is.” He laughs.

You turn to see Namjoon, sipping on his beer and watching everyone else have a great time on the dance floor.

“You aren’t dancing?” you slur out, “S’fun.”

“I am fine with watching.” He gazes at you, “You know…”

“Hm?” you look up into his eyes, your shy expression making him feel his chest tighten.

“I think maybe you just aren’t going on a real, proper date.” He blurts out, “I mean, with a guy that you know well enough that you’d probably have a good time.”

“Oh.” You blink at him, “Well, yeah. I don’t know these guys at all. I rely on dating apps more than half the time.” You admit with a chuckle.

“Maybe…” he gulps more of his beer, bringing the bottle back down to his side. “Would…would you be interested in going on one? With me, I mean.” He clarifies. He watches your expression shift into like 4 different emotions, he quietly laughs and waits for your response.

“What?” You blink at him again, “A date? With you?”

“Yes, and also you.” His soft laugh makes you feel drunker than you are. “Would you like that?”

“Would I like that?” You ask in comical disbelief. “Well, I wouldn’t not like it!”

Namjoon finds himself cracking up at your response and nods his head slowly.

“Okay.” He brings his beer bottle to his lips again, “Then it’s a date. How does Saturday night sound?”

~~~~~~

It’s around 3pm when Lucy sends you a text, reminding you of your little hang out today. To be honest, you had completely forgot about meeting her new boy toy or whatever. You are more focused on the fact that tonight, in just 4 hours from now you are meeting with Namjoon for a date you drunkenly agreed to.

You honestly just want to get this little meeting over with so you can give all your attention to your racing heart who needs some extra, tender love and care. You want to make sure you have enough time to prepare for the date…not just like, choosing an outfit, but mentally prepare. You have been crushing on Namjoon for some time and finally, finally you have an opportunity. Maybe Hoseok was right, maybe the bro code has a two year expiration date and now it’s suddenly not weird to you know, share the same girl.

Whatever, you aren’t going to question it. It’s not like you and Yoongi had continued the activities of that night at any other time. You are just going to move past that and hope it is never brought up ever again because well, your dignity begs for that.

You decide on getting like, half ready for your date. Hair and makeup done but instead of wearing the cute dress you have planned for tonight, you are opting for something more casual while meeting with Lucy and her special friend. Lucy texts you again, telling you that she is on her way to the café and she can’t wait to see you.

~

“He’s so sweet, y/n…you guys are going to get along so well!” Lucy continues to gush about her new man as you nod along. You have a straw between your lips as your eyes wander around the cafe…it’s dead today. You honestly have no idea why Lucy is so eager to introduce you to her new boy toy…you two aren’t even particularly close. But this seems so on brand for her, like she needs to show off something new. This reminds you when she got her shiny, new car. She even let you drive it around.

“He’s late though.” you note nonchalantly, “No brownie points for him.”

“He’s always like this…I’ll send him another text.”

Your eyes continue to drag around the empty cafe, you notice small things like the dribble of ice cream left behind on the table next to you, the wet floor sign put up near the bathroom and the cute barista on his phone, probably playing some game by the looks of it.

Lucy is more Hobi’s friend than anyone else’s…they’re always together, in fact it’s pretty surprising those two haven’t gotten together. But Lucy always has a new boo thang lying around while Hobi is waiting for Miss Right. Maybe they aren’t as good of a match you all thought, or so you think.

“Hobi hasn’t met him yet…” Lucy decides to speak of the devil. “I’m so nervous!”

“Why?” You ask, the straw still between your lips.

“You know how he is when I date someone new…he gets so…”

“Protective?” you laugh, your eyes finally landing back on her. “Yeah, we know.”

“So I thought I would…have someone else meet him first…you know, to hype him up a little so Hobi can relax.”

“Ah, so you’re using me.” You say with a straight face, but your tone is clearly teasing. “I’m sure he’s—"

But then the ding of the front door catches your attention, you lazily slide your eyes towards the entrance when the straw slips out between your lips back into the glass.. There’s—There’s no way.

In comes in a familiar face, a gorgeous familiar face at that. The way he runs his hands through his hair, pushing it back so smoothly. The way he glances to the side, exposing his sharp jawline. His eyes are covered by some oversized dark shades but you know he sees you when you notice the drop in his jaw.

“Oh there he is!” Lucy stands from her chair, the loud screeching against the wooden floor has you flinching. There’s no way… “Jimin!” she begins waving him over.

Yes, Jimin. Park Jimin. Your first love…your first heartbreak. The man who left you 5 years ago to pursue his dreams in New York.

“Come over here!” Lucy waves him over excitedly. Jimin stands frozen as he eyes the both of you, his hand motioning between you and lucy. He reaches up and takes his shades off and you finally get a real look at him.

He’s as gorgeous as the day he left you. He’s hesitant but walks closer and closer…you swear the closer he gets the more you can smell that familiar scent that has you feeling woozy. Is it getting hard to breathe in here?

“Jimin. this is y/n. y/n…Jimin.”

“y/n….” Jimin tries out your name for the first time in years “This is…”

“Nice to meet you.” you say with a tight lip smile.

“Meet?” Jimin raises a brow and then realization is hitting him, a sly smile works itself on his thick lips. “Right.” he clears his throat. “Nice to meet you.”

“Great!” Lucy ushers him to take the seat next to hers, “I am so excited guys. I really, really feel like you will get along.”

At this point in conversation you should be opening your mouth to agree with her, saying something, anything to keep this conversation afloat. But instead you feel your entire mouth dry and speaking becomes something of a challenge. Jimin, however, looks at you with a sparked amusement. He nods his head enthusiastically when Lucy emphasizes how well you two will hit it off.

“From all the great things Lucy has said about you, feels like I know you already.” Jimin has this knowing look in his eyes that really irritates you. Why can’t he mask his obvious pique of interest, why is he acting like this is all fun? Is it fun?

Jimin understands immediately why you decided to pretend to not know each other. The situation could become messy otherwise, he gets it, totally gets it. But seeing you here, seeing how obviously panicked you are, seeing how utterly hilarious and cruel this situation is, he can’t help but want to have a little fun. Something he hasn’t had in quite some time.

While Lucy has been a great distraction for his grieving heart and he was finally able to laugh again thanks to her—seeing you, lights a whole different flame within him. Seeing you, he feels himself grow more and more comfortable. Seeing you, he feels things he hasn’t felt in a long time. They say, different people bring out different sides in you—Jimin believes this. He thinks the sides you bring out in him…are his favorite.

“Excuse me for a minute,” Jimin glances at you and Lucy, his smile making Lucy smile in return and you? His smile making you feel your insides crumble. Shock. That’s probably what you are feeling right now. Your ex-boyfriend of several years, who you were so sure you were going to be with for the rest of your life, is here. And he is supposedly in some sort of dating relationship with your best friends friend, and well, your friend too. Jimin stands, heading towards the front to order a drink.

“Well?” Lucy asks excitedly, “Cute, right? I promise he isn’t just cute! He’s great and—”

“Why do you want me to get along with him so well?” You mumble, your mouth finally okay enough to speak again.

“Be—” Lucy’s expression goes soft as she begins explaining herself, “Because if you like him then Hobi will be sure to like him. You’re his best friend…if you approve of this guy then Hobi will be more willing to give him a chance, you know?”

“I can’t tell if you want Hoseok’s approval so badly because you really like Jimin…or because you just want Hoseok’s approval.” Your eyes fall to your hands on the table, avoiding Lucy’s gaze.

“W-What do you mean?” She feels her nerves beginning to spike uncomfortably. “I don’t get it.”

“Nothing.” You look back up, “So, he is the lead in the production coming up?”

Lucy lights back up again, her previous thoughts gone at the mention of Jimin. “Yeah! He is so talented, you have no idea.”

Except you do have an idea. A pretty big idea actually. But…you’re confused. Why is he back? Did something happen? Surely he wouldn’t have left his successful Broadway dreams in New York to come back here. Here of all places, to the same theatre he got his start in. And…although his smile made your entire world shake…it is not the same smile you had always been familiar with. It was different. Distant. The same type of smile he reserved when he was playing a character on stage. It wasn’t his. And the empty look in his eyes—

“That’s nice.” You finally say, “I’m sure he is.”

“He’s talented on stage and well, in other places.” Lucy gives you a goofy grin as she wiggles her brows, her suggestive comment making you cringe.

“Right.” Your monotone voice making Lucy wince.

“Oh, sorry. I know you haven’t been getting you know, lucky lately. I don’t mean to rub it in.” She apologizes. “But!”

“But what?” Jimin comes back, a frappe in his hands, taking a seat next to Lucy, across from you.

“But that will probably change. Real soon too, right?” Lucy sends you an obnoxious wink and you tense at what she is implying.

“Uh—”

“Finally after all this time, you and Namjoon are finally going on that date you’ve always dreamed of!” She brings her hand to her forehead, swooning at the idea.

“Namjoon?” Jimin tastes the word in his mouth, wondering why this flavor seems so familiar.

“Yeah. A friend of ours,” Lucy fills Jimin in, “y/n has had a crush on him for like ever and he finally asked her out.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” You mutter under your breath, suddenly feeling very over this entire situation.

“But it is!”

“Nope, not really.” You try again, avoiding both Jimin and Lucy’s eyes.

“Get this,” Lucy turns to face Jimin, “y/n is like a serial dater, basically—”

“Oh my god.” You groan, “I am not!”

“y/n…You go on a minimum of like 3 dates a week.” She points out, not totally realizing how super fucking embarrassing this is for you.

“It’s not that many—”

“Anyway, they always end in tragedy.” She continues filling Jimin in on your very sad and very pathetic dating life. “And it makes me sad because she is so cool…well, you don’t know her but she is like such a bad bitch.”

“Lucy I am literally begging you to never speak again.” You lower your head to the table, “You are stripping me of what little pride I have left.”

“You don’t know y/n, but she can be kind of dramatic at times.” Lucy whispers towards Jimin and he just looks between you and Lucy over and over with wide eyes. “But anyway, it’s totally fine. Jimin will be hanging with us so he’s going to know all of this information one way or another.”

“Joy.” You deadpan, lifting your head up again until you’re locking eyes with Jimin. He studies you for a second, you feel yourself shrink under his gaze and he smiles. It’s that same smile you don’t recognize as his own, you think he is feeling as stunned as you…but his eyes, once looking empty, are now twinkling in excitement.

“You’re right, I don’t know her.” He says, his eyes never leaving you. “But I look forward to learning.”

You gulp. You know everyone knows this, that people bring out certain sides of you. Every person can bring out different versions of yourself. They can bring out your worst, your best. Your confidence, your vulnerability. Jimin is no exception. But unlike every other person you know, Jimin is the only one who has ever managed to bring out sides of you that once made you love yourself. He also brought out sides of you that you never want to see again.

“What do you say y/n?” Jimin has this glint in his eye that you know all too well, “Would you like to know me too?”

You truly, very truly, like so sincerely, as genuinely as possible would love to know—what the fuck is going on? You know this can only end in a mess, you know this is a situation you should not involve yourself in…but, you match the glint in his eye with your own…finally, in so long you feel intrigued by something—someone. You realize the thing Jimin brings out the most in you…is someone who is actually fun.

“Sure.” You reply back, “I’d love to.”

What are you doing? And why does it feel so fucking exciting.

us, from yesterday

❥ synopsis: when you broke up with jimin a year ago, you never expected to see him again. after all, the two of you were out of school and living in entirely different cities. the chances of meeting again were quite minuscule. that is, until your best friends announce their summer cruise wedding and you come face-to-face with the past you left behind and the love you wish you never lost.

❥ genre: fluff, angst, exes to lovers, wedding au

❥ warnings: explicit content, cursing, reader suffers from a little anxiety, mild violence

❥ word count: 53.7k

❥ playlist: galaxies by isabella richardson; one step closer by shane harper; nobody compares to you by gryffin; un-break my heart by toni braxton; can i by teddy; please notice by christian love; ruin my life by zara larsson; jealous by labrinth; in my head by peter manos; the only reason by 5 seconds of summer; feels like this by maisie peters; make it right by the jonas brothers; you love me by brighten; dancing with your ghost by sasha sloan; heartbreak anniversary by giveon; film out by bts; clarity by zedd ft. foxes; not angry by chris james; scars by miley cyrus; already mine by us the duo; dive by ed sheeran; if you love her by forest blakk; someone you hate by sasha sloan; miss me (when you’re gone) by will linley; remember that night by sarah kays; see you later by jenna raine; intro by sabrina carpenter; memory lane by haley joelle; and, you were good to me by jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler

❥ dedication: @yesalexus, thank you for always cheering me on and being so sweet. your compliments have a very special place in my heart. i know you have been waiting for this, so i really wanted to dedicate this to you especially. thank you for waiting. i hope you love it!

❥ author’s note: this fic has been a long time in the making. for some reason, i kept putting it off for weeks and weeks even though the premise for this was laid out and planned meticulously. maybe it was writer’s block or maybe it was just me being lazy. who knows? not me! haha. happy reading~!! :]

Keep reading

Induratize (m) | 01

Pairing: Prince!Jimin x Princess!Reader

Genre: Royalty AU.

Warnings: Angst, Smut (future), Fluff.

Words: 7k

Summary: Prince Jimin had grown up despising people from your empire and vice versa. When your father weds you to the crowned Prince of Haelyra, your kingdom’s sworn enemies, as a form of alliance to fight a greater evil, you struggle to make sense of your new life as the future Queen to be and deal with a husband who cannot stand you.

A/N: this is the cliche cold prince and sweet princess (mostly) trope bc @jimin-calicocat and I are sucker for those. also this is dedicated to her as well uwu. Ty for hyping me up. This is just the start as it will be hopefully a short series but no smut in the first chap this time lads. Gotta build up to the sexy times :))) don’t forget to drop by and let me know how you liked this fhjbfjwerefhjrebf bye. Moodboard cred. to @yminie

This was it. The day had finally come. Not that you were awaiting it too eagerly. You had contemplated running away, really. But where could you go? On one side of your kingdom lay the Auzopan Empire whose threat of invasion was already becoming imminent. The other lay the Haelyra Dynasty, your kingdom Munia Empire’s sworn enemies for generations. Rivals that have been slaughtering your kingdom’s peoples for centuries and vice versa. It was a never ending battle of making sure the other did not get the last kill. It was horrific and preposterous but it had been this way for as long as you could remember. And you were to marry the crowned prince from that same kingdom, Park Jimin, in less than an hour. Tales of the brutishness of his empire had been the ones you’d grown up hearing from the maids in your castle. The same tales mothers told their crying children at night to quieten their shrieks. Tales your father told his own kingdom in favour of inciting appreciation from his people for his generosity as a king, as a protector of your nation. But where did that get him? Indebted to the same King he had claimed would tear your nation apart if it hadn’t been for your family ruling the land, making sure the beasts were at bay and to make sure his people where never intimidated.

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him after all (m) | pjm

➵ summary; a guy you’ve never met before scoops in and saves you from a very embarrassing situation and you can’t help but notice how cute he is.

(based on this prompt)

pairing; jimin x f. reader

final word count; 17,176 (sorry y’all)

rating; 18+

content; strangers to lovers au, fluff/angst/smut, infidelity, multiple appearances from jjk, oc’s boyfriend being nasty and stupid af

warnings; swearing, making out, smut; dom!jimin, nipple play, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, light choking, orgasm denial, oc begging for jimin’s dick bc it’s just so good

a/n; i am SO sorry for this long ass wait after promising to post the other day, but here it is, y’all!! i hope you like it, i’m actually pretty proud of it myself so yeah, please let me know what you think, thanks!! ps. please ignore any typos if you see some lol

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Omggg this was so good💥 Please add me in your taglist. Thankyou!💗✨️

.DarkSide.

Teaser. Part One. Part two.

Pairing : dark! Mafia Jimin x reader (f)

Genre : oneshot, yandere, arranged marriage.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings : No warnings for this chapter tbh, just a lot of cursing by our y/n , hot and sexy jimin, mention of violence and blood, angry and frustrated y/n, annoyed jimin, slight angst, cold and super rude jimin. ( the next chapter is probably gonna be full of filth and gore violence. Jimin's darkside will be visible in the next part)

Summary : after the demise of your father, you were forced to marry a mob boss who was a decade older than you. He has always been ruthless and marrying someone like him wasn't your first choice, but living with him made you crave for his attention. For getting his attention you were repeatedly acting out until one day he decided to take the matter in his own hands.

A/N : this is purely fiction, I don't encourage these type of activities outside the fictional world. Please go through the warnings before reading it. But if you would like to read more please let me know. 💗

You were naive, Naive enough to think that love like fairytales exist. Often as child you heard your mother explaining how you were going to get your prince Charming who would take you away from here and will end your misery. You always believed that one day you'll going to find someone who would love you wholeheartedly unlike your dad.

You knew your dad wasn't too emotionally attached to you but you had faith in him that he would find the perfect Prince Charming for you. you barely knew your dad.  He was the boss of one of the biggest gangs in Seoul, and as his only daughter, you had been kept well away from the criminal lifestyle he led. Expensive boarding schools, lavish holidays abroad during Christmas and summer, a fat allowance every month and free reign with his black credit card that you never had to pay off. Growing up, you’d had everything you’d ever wanted – except for the love and attention of a father.

You loved your father, yes you did but you were disappointed when you heard his last wish.

When you thought of marriage, you always wanted someone different from your dad. you thought of tender caresses and knowing smiles between husband and wife. You dreamed of shy, newlywed touches and a honeymoon phase that lasted forever. You dreamed of being doted on, spoiled, taken care of, shown off – you dreamed of it all and wanted it all.

But your father had different wishes. He promised you to someone who isn't even completely familiar with your presence. He didn't even asked you beforehand. You were too shocked and hurt to even voice out your opinion in front of everyone other than your own mother.

“I won’t do it!” You had yelled, stamping your heels against the marble floor of your foyer. “Mom, I swear to God. You can’t make me marry some man I don’t even know, just because Dad wanted me to! For fucksakes, I’m meant to be going to las Vegas with the girls next week! The Vegas, Mom! Not a wedding! Not my own fucking wedding!”

“You have to.” Your mother had said simply. “It’s been arranged. It has been for a long time. You may not have known it, but your father and the Park family have been planning this union for years. To bring the two biggest families in the city together as one. It’s what your father would have wanted. And Park Jimin has graciously agreed to marry you. It’s all set.”

“Fuck Park Jimin ” You had whined. You knew him. You had seen him around the few summers you had actually spent in your hometown. He was older than you, a fair bit older. But he was handsome – every girl in the area was crazy about him. He was also silent, brooding, dangerous – the man in charge of the one gang bigger and deadlier than your father’s. “I don’t care what he’s agreed to. I’m not agreeing. You hear me, Mom? I don’t want this. It’s not happening. It won’t happen. I won’t let it!”

Your wedding was held privately, only yours and Jimin's family were present. You had to admit, Jimin was looking the finest piece of ass on your wedding.  Shoulders broad and fit snugly into a black and white tux. Blonde hair neatly gelled back. You wondered if Jimin is really forced by his parents too. Because every time he looked at you, he smiled. The softest kind of smile. The kind of smile which told you he isn't here because he was forced to.

You never knew Jimin personally, you've only heard about him. Even if he's smiling at you like he's the kindest person you've ever met,  you should know he is NOT. He's the head of the underworld's dirty business, he takes care of every illegal shit out there with a smile. He's ruthless, cold, dangerous and what not, you've heard every thing about him.

You still had a vague memory his, when you were in  your last year of school and your cousin had taken you to a club, showing your fake id to the security. You saw him there, surrounded by girls. There were rumours about him, about his bachelor lifestyle, how he used girl after girl and then discarded them without a second glance. Somehow, it didn’t make sense for a man like that to be settling down.

But Jimin seemed so assured as he said his vows, exuding power and charm with every word he spoke; even the small crowd seemed amazed by him. Which was crazy to you, because all of them must know that this whole thing was an act, right? But when it was all said and done, and Jimin leaned down and kissed you, pressed his pillowy lips softly against yours and held your jaw gently as he did, you could feel your heart flutter just a tiny bit.

Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.

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" Fuck, it taste like shit. " You whined as you tasted the kimchi stew. You exactly made it like the recipe which the maid gave you, but guess you can't actually cook. For once you wanted to do something like an actual housewife does. But it's all in vain, you can't serve this to Jimin. You pinched your nose in disgust and threw the food in the bin, washed your hand and settled down on a nearby chair.

Jimin would be home soon- you called him before to make sure if he's coming tonight or not. Almost every three or four days in a week, Jimin stayed outside because of his illegal work. You thought of making him dinner but now you are back to zero.

You have to think fast before he arrives. You can't serve him nothing, nor like he would care- you murmured bitterly. You walked up to the front door, swinging it open. The guard on duty raised an eyebrow at you.

" What do you want Mrs. Park.? " The guard asked.

" I cooked shit, so make one of your guys go and get rose ttaekboki for two people along with some cheese gimbap and make sure to add the glass noodles in ttaekboki. " You ordered and the Guard immediately nodded his head, gesturing to the other guy to bring it for you.

Jimin sure did have a lot of guys stationed outside his house – “Anything else, Mrs. Park ?” the guard asked.

" No, that will be all. " You as you closed the door and went back inside. That was one perk of being the wife of Park Jimin -  having about a dozen of his   men working for him at your beck and call. They’d get the food and wine and anything else you asked for, knowing Jimin would do something drastic like have them killed if they disobeyed.

You wonder if they knew what happens inside the house.

Jimin isn't really fond of you. He made sure to let you know that when you guys returned back from your wedding. As depressing as it sounded. You didn’t even know why you were bothering to ensure there was food for him when he got home. Because he had let you know from the moment that he married you, he hated your guts.

When you first arrived here, after your wedding you still remember his actions. You had grown up with money but it was nothing compared to how lavish Jimin's house was. He had pools, tennis courts, an indoor cinema, he practically lived in a palace. And he had stood to the side, hands in his pocket and an unreadable expression on his face and you on the other hand were feeling giddy to see such luxury.

Your room’s on the second floor, third door.” Jimin had said curtly. “All your suitcases have been unpacked. The maids are in their quarters downstairs if you need anything else.” And then he had left. Without another word. Just turned on his heel and walked out the door, probably to attend to some type of his wicked business – on his wedding night no less.

And three months later, it was still more of the same. Jimin barely looked at you, barely spoke a word to you unless he really had to. You hadn’t even seen the inside of his bedroom, and he had never stepped foot inside yours. Your bedroom which was all soft pastel coloured and girly, fluffy  rug and vanity table and everything. You wondered if he’d ordered it to be decorated exactly to your taste, thinking it was what you’d like – which it was – but no. Jimin barely knew you, he hadn’t even tried to get to know you.

The only time Jimin did act like a normal, nice and loving husband was in public. In the eyes of other people, he was perfect, doting, amazing. Often, you’d go to events with him, club appearances or charity galas thrown by his business partners – fronts for more money laundering, undoubtedly, not that Jimin ever shared any inside knowledge about his business with you.

And you’d be on his arm at those galas, dressed in some expensive dress you’d bought with his money, letting him parade you around with his large hand on the small of your back. And you had to give Jimin props for his acting skills, because he’d look at you with sparkling black eyes that actually looked like they were in love – how did he even do that? – and he’d introduce you as his wife, he’d kiss you, whisper softly to you, tuck your hair behind your ear. And everyone would smile and congratulate you both on being such a beautiful couple.

And then you would come home, and he would go to his room and you would go to yours. No words spoken. No more touches. No more smiles. Not even a look.

So you couldn't understand why we're you stressing yourself for him. You shouldn't care if he's well fed or not. Three months into the marriage and you can't believe nothing has changed, and you don't think it'll ever change.

But still you try, wearing a cute blue knee length dress, bought by of course Jimin's card now, styled your hair in a cute messy bun and few strands of your hair were falling on your face which made you look cute tbh.

You wish that Jimin might today notice and realise that, oh my wife is looking actually cute and hot and maybe i should treat her more like a wife or maybe a human atleast......... You thought bitterly.

The doorbell rang. It was one of Jimin’s guys, a bag of food in his hand. He handed it to you quickly, barely making eye contact with you before scurrying away. That was another thing. Ever since you’d married Jimin, no other man ever looked your way. Which sucked, because you had liked the attention. And it wasn’t like you were getting any from your husband.

You had just finished setting the table when his Highness came home. Jimin was imposing as he walked in through the door, acting like he owned the place – which he did. He had on a white dress shirt, collar button undone and sleeves rolled up, and specks of suspicious red dotting the otherwise pristine white fabric. He had his suit jacket scrunched up in his hand, and his blonde hair looked tousled, like he’d run his hand through it many times throughout the day.

He looked like he’d come straight home after torturing some poor somebody, but you had to admit he still looked unreal. He always looked handsome.

" Hyung, I don't want to deal with that shit right now. I have a lot to deal with already, just take care of it and I'm not repeating myself. " Jimin was obviously talking to someone while he walked towards you.  It was pretty normal for you now, just some criminal men talking about criminal shit everyday which you found plainly boring.

Once Jimin finished talking, you looked up then only. God, you would stop breathing if he continued to run his hand through his already messy hair. Words caught up in your throat as he quirked an eyebrow.

"Do you want to say something? " Jimin asked as he tossed his jacket on the sofa and wiped his sweat from his forehead.

" You must be hungry, I ordered the food. Have some. " You said as you tried looking somewhere else other than him. You practically cringed because  of your wavering tone.

Jimin threw a glance towards you and then sat on the on the chair.

" I have some people coming over tonight.” He said, surveying the food, the kitchen, the fridge, the floor, and then gracing you with eye contact that lasted about two seconds before it was back on the food again, “You need to be inside your room around 9pm. Get all you need from downstairs before then. Don’t come down here after that, got it?”

He said and he didn't even waited for you to respond, instead picking up his plate and heading down towards the office. His office, where he practically lived. Where he would go disappear whenever he chose to stay at home and you hated the fact that he doesn't give two shits about you.

" Are you Fucking serious.? Huh? " You said as you stood abruptly from your chair making a skeech noice. Jimin stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at you.

What the fuck is his problem? You can't fucking believe him. Is he doing this on purpose? Making you loose your mind? You don't even fucking know at this point.

" What do you think of yourself? Are you my dad? Ordering me shits around. You can't just lock me in my room every fucking time jimin. It's also my fuckin house. " You raised your voice as you walked towards him.

" Watch your tone y/n. You won't like to cross your limits. " Jimin's eyes flashed warningly, his tone authoritative yet somehow still nonchalant. As if he was speaking to one of his subordinates, rather than his own wife. “And I’m serious. Grab your things and go to your room before 9pm.” He said as he continued walking towards the hall, you followed him. You can't muffle your thoughts this time.

" Why, why the fuck do you want me to stay in my room after 9pm . What, is your other whore gonna be around? Is this the reason park? " You asked sarcastically really letting it go with the expletives. God. He made you so angry – marching into the house, not even thanking you for the food – it was takeout, but still he should have thanked you- and then ordering you to go to your room like you were five fucking years old.

" Don't you dare talk like that to me love.” Jimin eyed you annoyingly because you could say that you were crossing your limits, and as if on cue, his phone began buzzing in his pocket. It was probably some cranky drug lord on the other end, since those were the type of people you knew he worked with on a regular basis. " I don't have time for this drama of yours right now but I'll talk to you later about this. " He ran his hand through his hair for the 6-7 time annoyingly before turning his heels back.

He twisted the knob of his office door and said, " Don't make me repeat myself y/n. Go to your room before 9pm or else you'll regret it. " And with that he disappeared in his office.

Fuck him. You thought, stewing and swearing as you stomped your way up the stairs. Tears stinging your eyes as you marched towards your room. Out of sheer irritation and spite, you took out your phone out and quickly bought one necklace and anklet of Cartier along with 3 heels from Manolo Blahnik, rapidly typing out Jimin's card information before you could change your mind. The notification from his bank would probably piss him off, but it wouldn’t really make a dent on his bank balance. No. This wasn’t enough. You wanted to push him even further.

It seemed like the only time Jimin spoke more than two words to you was when he was ordering you or angry at you. Well. You could give him something to get angry over. You could give him plenty to get angry over. No more playing at caring little housewife. It was time to get creative.

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