#yandere park jimin x reader

[wildestdreamsblog]

Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 2

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3

“Am I that hopeless?”

“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“

You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.

However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.

“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“

“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”

“I don’t understand-“

“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.

That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.

Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”

“I’m not thanking you-“

Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room.  He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.

The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.

Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.

Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.

 “Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector. 

Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.

You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.

“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”

You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-

Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler. 

The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.

Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.

Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.

Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.

And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.

“Don’t drink that!”

Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.

Oh heavens, no.

He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!

Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.

“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.

“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.

“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”

Little one???

 Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”

Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”

Was that…an invitation?!

You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”

“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.

“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”

He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.

This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.

You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.

“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“

His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”

Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“

He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”

“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“

“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”

Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!

“I-“

“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“

“But hyung, you already have one-“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.

“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.

“Where are you going!”

“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”

Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”

You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.

“So, they drank it?”

“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”

You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”

“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”

“Well, honey, how did they act?”

“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”

She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“

“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“

You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.

Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).

You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.

You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.

Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!

You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.

Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!

Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.

Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.

V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.

Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.

At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?

You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.

WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!

Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.

Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?

And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.

You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.

A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him

“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.

You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!

“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”

Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re so…honest.”

He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!

The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.

“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”

You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.

“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”

What pain?!

Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.

“Daepyonim Kim-“

“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.

You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.

You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.

For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?

It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.

“Good morning, beautiful!”

“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.

“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”

You nodded, “He did…”

He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.

“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.

God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.

“He did what?!”

He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.

“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”

Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.

Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.

You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.

You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.

Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.

“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.

You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.

“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“

“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”

He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”

“What memo?”

He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.

“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“

You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!

You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.

He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.

So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.

He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?

Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.

“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”

You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”

He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”

“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”

“You do?”

He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”

It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!

You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.

The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.

He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.

“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”

“W-why did you cook all these?”

He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.

How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.

You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”

It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…

---

If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.

The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!

You were just a girl.

And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.

Hi, my little one,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.

Best regards,

CEO Min Yoongi

He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.

He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.

And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.

“Daepyonim Min-“

He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”

Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.

“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”

He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.

“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”

“Excuse me?”

And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."

At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.

Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.

The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.

The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.

“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.

“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.

You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.

A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”

You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.

But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.

The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.

He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”

You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”

He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.

“I shipped them off to Antartica.”

“You what?!”

“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”

My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.

On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.

It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.

Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?

There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.

The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.

The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.

‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’

You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.

“S-sir, are you okay?”

His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.

‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’

“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.

You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.

“Don’t leave me.”

‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’

You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.

“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”

You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.

“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“

“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.

“Y-you know…”

He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”

“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“

The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”

“H-how?”

“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”

Part 2

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #yandere min yoongi #kim seokjin fic #ot7 x reader #kim seokjin x you #kim namjon fic #jung hoseok fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #kim seokjin x reader #bts x reader #park jimin x you #kim taehyung x you #jeon jungkook x you #bts x you #jeon jungkook x reader #kim taehyug x reader #park jimin x reader

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The Pitfalls of Silk (m)

synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series

p.jimin x f.reader

⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k

⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst

⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3

⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.

While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!

But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.

You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.

Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.

In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.

It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.

Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!

Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!

The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.

Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.

A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?

“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.

It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.

Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.

What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.

You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.

You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.

You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?

…

You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.

Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.

You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?

Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.

Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.

If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.

It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.

But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.

Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~

Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–

Bang.

What the fuck was that?

Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.

A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.

You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…

Human.

Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.

The room, it freezes over.

Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.

If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.

That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.

But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.

The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.

No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.

The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.

You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.

Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.

He sees you before you see him.

“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.

Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.

Just as petrified as you.

Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.

Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.

He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.

The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.

He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.

Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.

He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.

What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–

Holy shit he must be frozen solid.

It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.

His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.

Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.

The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.

“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”

You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.

It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.

He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.

He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.

Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.

You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.

Don’t notice the recognition on his face.

You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.

You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.

The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.

Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.

You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.

Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.

You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.

“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.

You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?

Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.

“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.

“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.

“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.

“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”

It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.

“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.

“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”

You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.

“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”

“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”

“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”

The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.

“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.

“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”

He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.

“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.

“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”

You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.

“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”

He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.

“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”

“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?

You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.

His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.

Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.

“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”

“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.

“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”

He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.

“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”

“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.

“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.

All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.

He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.

As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.

Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.

To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.

Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.

You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.

You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.

Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.

One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.

But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.

So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.

A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.

“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.

It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.

He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.

Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.

Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.

You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.

“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.

You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.

But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.

“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.

His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.

“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.

“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”

Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.

A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”

He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.

“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.

“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.

Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.

How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.

You frown.

“Min, I’m so sorry…”

He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.

“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.

“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?

“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?

“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.

Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.

Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.

Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.

“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”

You shake your head, “what?”

“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.

You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”

You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?

The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.

Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.

You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.

A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.

“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”

You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”

A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.

He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.

Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.

He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.

“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”

A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.

You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.

He can.

“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.

You have to buy those glasses.

Being a spider is just too difficult!

At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.

It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”

Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.

Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.

That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.

His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.

His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.

In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.

At least, that’s what he tells you.

The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.

Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.

It always works. Always will.

Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.

No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.

r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.

You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–

You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.

Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.

But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.

Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.

You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.

Or maybe you’re over thinking things.

Yeah. It’s probably that.

“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.

His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.

Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.

He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.

“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.

He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.

The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.

You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.

“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”

“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”

His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.

You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.

“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.

Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.

Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.

The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.

Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.

The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.

Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.

Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.

And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.

A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.

“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.

Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.

It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.

A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.

A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.

To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.

“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.

He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.

He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.

You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.

Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.

He’ll win it soon. August.

“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.

Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!

“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”

“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”

His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.

Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.

That’s what he promises to himself.

“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.

Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.

Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.

His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.

You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.

Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.

You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.

“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.

Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.

You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.

Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.

Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.

“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!

You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.

But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.

If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.

“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.

Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.

Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”

“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.

His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.

Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.

“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.

Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.

“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.

“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.

You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”

His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.

He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.

It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.

Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.

Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.

It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.

“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”

His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.

How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.

Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.

He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.

Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.

But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.

Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.

Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.

Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.

Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.

So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.

You think you might hate them.

You sigh.

No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.

You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.

“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”

August 11th.

A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.

Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.

Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.

But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.

“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.

“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”

“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.

You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.

Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.

You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.

Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.

August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.

A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.

Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.

“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.

Gorgeous, gorgeous you.

Mate.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.

No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.

Wait, does he have your love yet?

Now he isn’t sure.

All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.

More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.

The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?

Wait, spider.

Spider.

His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.

He hasn’t even presented his web yet.

He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.

“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.

That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.

He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.

The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.

He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.

So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.

He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.

He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.

Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.

“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.

He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.

“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.

Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.

He hadn’t even noticed it.

He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.

Leave. He needs to leave.

He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.

A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?

No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?

He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.

The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.

A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?

You are.

“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?

And so you do.

He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.

To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–

Shit.

He needs to leave.

Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.

His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.

He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.

The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.

You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.

It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.

He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.

You’re sick of it.

Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.

So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.

Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.

You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.

Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.

Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.

He doesn’t. He never would.

His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.

You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.

His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.

Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.

Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.

You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.

Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.

Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.

You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.

“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.

“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”

Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.

You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.

“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”

“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”

“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.

He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”

Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”

“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.

It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.

You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.

“Okay.”

He holds your hand as you walk.

Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.

You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.

The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.

Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.

He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.

It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.

Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.

You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.

Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.

As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.

You almost want to curl up in it yourself.

Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.

You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.

“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”

He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.

He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.

Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.

He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–

No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”

His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.

You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.

You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?

Oh.

It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.

You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?

Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.

You’re an idiot.

“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.

His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.

“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.

The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.

Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.

Only him.

Only Jimin.

He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.

His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.

He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.

His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.

His spider is winning.

“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.

“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.

His spider has won.

Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.

His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.

You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.

His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.

Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.

He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.

Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.

Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.

He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.

You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.

His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.

“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.

“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”

He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.

Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?

He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!

His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.

A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?

“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.

His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.

“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.

Tie you up. Breed full.

Breed you.

His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.

His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.

See exactly how you struggle against the strings.

Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.

You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.

“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.

Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.

He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?

“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”

You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.

“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.

Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.

He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.

You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.

Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.

“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.

“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.

You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”

The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.

You’ve both done enough waiting.

It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.

The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.

“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.

“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.

Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.

Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.

“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.

He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.

“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”

He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.

“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”

You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.

“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.

His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.

Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.

He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.

You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.

All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.

Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.

“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.

Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.

He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.

“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”

“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.

Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.

“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.

A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.

“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”

His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.

He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.

“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”

He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.

No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.

“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.

“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.

His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.

Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.

He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.

Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.

He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.

The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.

“I love you.”

“Y/n! Hurry up!”

The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.

“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.

“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”

He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.

You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.

He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.

He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.

All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.

You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.

It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.

Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.

“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”

He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.

You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.

His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.

The human way is never easy for him.

“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.

“Hybrid’s do it different?”

“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.

“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.

“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”

He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”

Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.

The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.

“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.

The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.

“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.

You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.

The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.

“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”

“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”

“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”

You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.

Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.

“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.

You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts #jimin #park jimin #park jimin x reader #yandere bts #yandere jimin #hybrid bts #hybrid jimin #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #hybrid bts smut #bts reactions #bts drabble #bts oneshot #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts hybrid au #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #bangtan x reader #bangtan #bangtan smut #🖇️ ctrl.the pitfalls of silk

[piedinthepiper]

Prima Ballerina ˖ ⊹

Yandere!Jimin x ballerina!reader

Summary: What’s the difference between a great ballerina and the greatest ballerina? The answer is Park Jimin. And he had his eyes on you in more than a professional way.

Warnings: heavy dubcon, Jimin is super cocky and thinks he knows everything (misogyny?), cursing, corruption, Jimin is also a creep, age gap (reader is of legal age), stalking (non descriptive), smut

Wc: 4.3k

A/n: Written for this request. I love black swan and ballet so I had to do this! Hope you enjoy! Don’t be a silent reader! Like, repost and comment!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I know nothing about ballet except for whatever ballet they show in the Barbie movies. Everything is off Google, so some technical terms and such might be incorrect.

You did a final jump before the dramatic music came to an end. His eyes were piercing through you. Watching your every movement, your every step, your every breath. But he watched you all, you thought to yourself. Everybody had to be perfect for the premiere of Swan lake. The hardest and most demanding ballet you had ever danced in your career. The choreography was almost impossible. So Mr. Park had yet again kept you there for hours overtime, and all of you were exhausted.

“Agh, my feet hurt. I hope this was the last round.”

Your friend, Maria, whispered to you. You smiled at her and was about to answer, when a loud clap was heard throughout the room. It silenced everyone.

“Ms. Sanderson, do you have something to tell the company?”

Mr. Park locked eyes with her. Staring her down from across the room like a predator. She looked a bit tongue tied for a second.

“Ehm- no. No, Mr. Park.”

He nodded at her answer.

“I do think I heard complaining back there, are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

She looked down to the floor and carefully shook her head.

“I don’t believe you, you’re pathetic. Out of my studio!”

He yelled at her and pointed a sharp finger towards the exit. Her eyes continued to stay on the floor. Accepting her fate.

“I said it!”

You yelled back and raised your hand. His eyes turned back to you.

“Bold of you, Ms. y/l/n. Thanks to you all the swans have to practice for another hour. The rest are dismissed.”

The room was filled with sighs and groans.

“Ok, let’s make that two.”

No one uttered a single word, afraid that the time would get longer.

“That’s what I thought. You, come with me.”

He briefly pointed at you, before he started to walk out of the practice room.

“The rest of you can take a 10 minute break.”

Maria looked at you with a apologetic look.

“Thank you, y/n.”

She said and grabbed your hand. You gave her a small smile. Of course you would stand up for her. She was your best friend in the company.

“Yeah, thanks a lot y/n.”

One of the other girls said sarcastically. You didn’t pay it any mind, you would also be furious if someone made you stay two hours overtime when you already were on overtime. You grabbed your leg warmers.

“No worries, you know I got you.”

You comforted Maria, before you started walking towards the exit. You knew Mr. Park went to his office. It wasn’t your first time being scolded.

“Sit down.”

He said once you entered. He was already sitting behind his desk. You sat down opposite of him, leaning down to slide into your leg warmers.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park.”

You started off with. Trying to sound as apologetic as possible. He sighed.

“Do you think I do this for fun, y/n?”

You got up from your crouched position and looked him in the eyes.

“No I don’t.”

He was one of the best ballet teachers and directors in the whole world. It was obviously an honour just to be able to dance for him. But you knew he had a soft spot for you for some reason. That’s why you were comfortable taking Maria’s place.

“I would much rather be at home as well, relaxing and eating a good meal. But there would be no Swan lake, and there would be no good ballerinas without me.”

He pulled his hand through his black hair in stress. It was slicked back like usual, but throughout the day a few strands had loosened.

“If everyone stopped practicing at five o’clock like scheduled, the premiere would be nothing but chaos. Do you understand that, y/n?”

You nodded. He looked you up and down for a second. Taking in your form. He slowly got up and walked towards you. He grabbed your chin harshly, making you look back up at him.

“I’ve been observing you for the last days, you truly are far too beautiful and talented to be just a swan.”

You raised your eyebrows at his sudden compliment.

“You’re prima ballerina material, for sure.”

His hand slid to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.

“Too bad I have to fire you.”

“What?!”

Your eyebrows crossed as you shook your head out of his grip. His hand went into his pocket, making him look surprisingly relaxed.

“The two of us, let alone the entire company, knows that this isn’t your first time being sent to my office.”

You looked at him in shock. You couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“If I don’t give you the consequences, it’s going to look suspicious.”

You shook your head. He was going to fire you just because something as simple as complaining?

“You can’t do that.”

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

He smirked again, before walking to stand right in front of you. You looked up and down his long body. Before looking back at him with your most innocent, but still sultry eyes.

“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Park. You wouldn’t do that to me would you?”

He cocked his head at your plea. Scanning you up and down yet again. He had a puzzled look on his face.

“Don’t test me.”

You grabbed his hand as you fell down to your knees. You knew he liked it when you begged. And since this was a life or death situation for your career, you didn’t mind being a little extra.

“I’ll do anything. Please just let me continue to dance for you. I’m nothing without you. I can’t- you can’t-”

You knew what buttons to push. His ego was too big to not take the bait.

“You’re right. It would be a shame to waste your potential.”

He lifted your head up again by your chin. A sudden sexual tension hit you, once you saw the outline of his bulge. You knew your actions had an effect on him, but not to that extent.

“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty face.”

You tried your best to look him in the eyes. It was hard to not shy away at a situation like that, even for you.

“Please, Mr. Park.”

He inhaled sharply, before he broke out in a smile.

“I forgive you, y/n. I can’t live with myself if I don’t give you another chance.”

You smiled up at him as well, preceding to get back up on your feet. But his arm found your shoulder and stopped you in your ascend.

“Wait.”

He warned you, and you quickly sat back down on your knees.

“I like seeing you like this, it’s not often you look so- submissive.”

Chills ran down your spine at his words. You definitely did not take that as a compliment. You were quite fiery, yes. And in any normal situation you would never let a man speak to you like he did. But the fear of losing your job, combined with the reverence you felt towards him, made you defy yourself.

“After this season I want you to take private lessons with me. Every Tuesday and Thursday.”

You nodded carefully, not looking up at him.

“Don’t look so down, darling. I’ll make you my next prima ballerina.”

“He said what?”

Maria half whispered in shock.

“Ms. Sanderson.”

Mrs. Petrova, your instructor, who was so old she probably was alive when swan lake was composed, hushed her. Maria looked at her before looking down at her moving feet. The company was warming up, standing in clean lines against the railing, moving to the rhythm of the slow classical music.

“Not only did he not fire you.”

She whispered once Mrs. Petrova was at the other end of the room.

“But he also said he would make you a prima ballerina?”

You nodded.

“Switch to third position!”

The two of you switched.

“Wow, you are so lucky. Mr. Park hasn’t had a prima ballerina in years.”

You smiled at her, and lifted you head higher when Mrs. Petrova walked by. You remained silent until you knew she was far enough away.

“I’m happy of course, it’s just- I don’t know. There’s something weird about him.”

“Yeah he’s like really cocky.”

She answered and held back a laugh.

“That too, but he’s just eerie. Like I don’t know if I want to spend so much time with him alone.”

“Ms. y/l/n! Would you like to share something with the company? Or do I have to send the two of you to Mr. Parks office?”

Mrs. Petrova suddenly bursted out. You locked eyes with Maria. Not knowing what to answer the old hag.

“We were just talking about-“

“Boys, just boys.”

You interrupted Maria. Not wanting her to say anything about you or Mr. Park. Mrs. Petrova gave the two of you a strict look, before the music started playing again.

“Please focus on your movements, not the opposite gender.”

She scolded before walking away from the two of you.

“And fourth position!”

“He just kept looking at me weirdly, and telling me that I’m beautiful and shit.”

You said as the two of you were walking down towards the cafeteria for lunch.

“Oh my god! He probably has a crush on you or something!”

Maria said a little bit too loud. You poked her in her side with your elbow.

“Please, keep it down.”

She started laughing, and you quickly followed. As you turned a corner you crashed into something. Or rather someone. A hand snuck around you waist, keeping you from falling. You looked up, finding the familiar brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I didn’t see where I was going.”

He looked at you for a second, before smiling. He didn’t let go of your waist, and when you became aware of that you awkwardly stepped away from him.

“No harm done.”

He simply said and walked away. You looked over at Maria.

“I get it.”

She simply said as you started walking again.

“Right?”

You asked, looking back at her as she tried to keep up with you.

“What ever look he just gave you was not the look you give to someone you have a crush on.”

The season had ended, for a minute you felt relief. Knowing you had time off now to just relax before the next season. But as you read the message on your phone, you felt that relief fade away.

“Studio 5, next Thursday at 07.00 am. Don’t be late.”

You sighed, was this really what you wanted? Of course it was a dream come true to potential become Mr. Parks new prima ballerina. But you couldn’t help but feel weird about that time in his office. It seemed like he had other intentions in mind. Mr. Park was an attractive man yes, but he was way older than you and you didn’t want his attention in that way. He was your teacher, your mentor. Not a potential hook up. You didn’t see him in that way, and you hoped against all odds that he didn’t see you like that either.

What you didn’t know was that in that moment, outside on the dark street. He was there. Looking at you through your window. Watching your puzzled look at his text. He didn’t know his intentions fully yet either. But he did know they were not good.

“Higher.”

He simply said as he watch you dance to the music. It was your fifth lesson together, and everything was going well. You hadn’t seen the side of him that you saw when he proposed this idea. And you were enjoying yourself, getting these private lessons had really helped you improve. In the next second arabesque, you lifted your leg even higher. Showing him that you listened. But he still shut the music off. You stepped down from your tips, looking at him as he walked up to you.

“Turn around.”

He said once he reached you. And you did as instructed. You looked at him through the big mirrors.

“Do your second arabesque.”

You stood back up on your toes, and gracefully bent into a second arabesque.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

He said, and you did. You instinctively pushed your leg even further up, once you saw your own reflection.

“Now back to full position.”

You moved your face upwards again, looking away from the mirror. You felt his hands touch your waist. He straightened your back, before one of his hands went to your lifted leg.

“Look back at yourself.”

He almost whispered in your ear, now with one hand on your waist, and the other holding your leg higher than what you were comfortable with. You smiled once you saw yourself. Your arabesque looked different, more sophisticated.

“When you do your second arabesque, or any arabesque for that matter. Remember this. Straight back and high leg.”

He said in a low comforting tone once he saw your smile. You nodded, and stepped down from your tippy toes. He let go of your leg, but moved that hand to the other side of your waist.

“Think of me holding your waist, it’ll help you stabilise.”

He whispered now, you felt his warm breath on the back of your neck. You turned to look at him.

“Thank you.”

You muttered. His eyes immediately fell to your lips, and in a split second his lips were on yours. You were caught off guard, and didn’t respond at first. But once it dawned on you what was happening you quickly moved your face away from his. You felt his hands on your waist tighten.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

You looked up at the mirror, wanting to see his reaction. He was looking you dead in the eye, with anger written all over his face. He leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder, still maintaining eye contact. Before he deeply whispered.

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

His hand moved up to your face as he turned to kiss you yet again. You pushed him away, and tried to make a run for it. But he snaked his arm around your chest.

“Let me go!”

You struggled against him, now scared of what would happen if you didn’t get away. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you elbowed him as hard as you could in his side. His hand loosened and you ran. But not quick enough. He grabbed you by your arm and threw you into the big mirror. It was pure luck that it didn’t shatter. His body locked you in.

“Hush, I won’t hurt you.”

He said, and for a second you stopped fighting. You were out of breath, but still managed to give him a death glare.

“Let me go!”

You tried once again. He shook his head.

“Do you think I just give away free lessons? Don’t you think you need to repay me?”

You felt something hard against your abdomen. You wanted to cry, you didn’t know what to do. His face shifted once he saw your eyes watering.

“No, no. I’m not a rapist, y/n! God no. But if you want to be my prima ballerina. You have to get your priorities straight.”

You clung onto the little bit of relief you felt from his words.

“I’ve tried my best to stay away, y/n. I really have. But there’s just something about you.”

You felt his hips grind against yours.

“You make me fucking crazy. I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”

He let out a small moan at the friction. A tear fell down your face.

“Please, Mr. Park. Let me go.”

You sobbed. He hushed you again.

“I’ll let you go. Just listen to me.”

You took a deep breath, collecting yourself as much as you could.

“By next Thursday I want an answer. Either you show up or you don’t. Don’t be late.”

He pushed himself off the wall and gave you one last look before slowly walking out the studio. Leaving you alone in the big dance room. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

“I don’t know what to do, Maria. This is like a fucking nightmare!”

You said sobbing onto Marias lap as she comforted you. You called her the minute you got home, knowing that she already knew most of the backstory. She immediately came over to your place, wanting to be there for you in a situation like this. You were forever great full for having a friend like her.

“You have to report this. Surely the police could do something about him.”

She said in a calm voice, stroking your hair lightly. You sat up in your bed, wiping your tears away from your swollen face.

“Would they though?”

You asked defeated. Mr. Park was a rich and famous man. You wanted to believe Marias theory, but the hard sad truth was that you didn’t stand a chance against him. Especially with no proof.

“Either I don’t show up and give up my career or-“

You paused, collecting your thoughts.

“Or you give that bastard what he wants.”

Maria finished for you. Knowing exactly what you were thinking.

“Look, being Jimin Parks prima ballerina is huge. It really is, but- I don’t know, is it really worth it? Is it really worth loosing your dignity for a life of fame?”

She asked you with a worried face. You blinked away your tears, not wanting to cry anymore.

“What else would I do? I’ve been dancing my entire life, everything I’ve ever done has lead up to this moment. I can’t-“

You shook your head, not letting the emotions take control over you again.

“I have to show up, I have to talk some sense into him. I can’t give up now. I just can’t.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap as you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You could go to college, get a degree, get a nine to five. Anything but this, please I can’t watch you go through with this. It’s not safe to see him again.”

You looked up at her again.

“And be a complete failure? Not only to my parents, to you, to the company, but also to myself. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of, Maria.”

“You won’t be a failure! You’re an amazing dancer, you have real talent. But it’s not worth it.”

You shook your head. You had already made up your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

You mumbled. Maria sighed and got up from the bed.

“You do you, girl. But you better not call me crying next Thursday. I won’t feel bad for you.”

She said before walking out your room. You were alone with this now. But like you told her, you couldn’t give up on your dream. No matter the cost.

Thursday. You were sweating. A lump had formed itself inside your stomach, and it was impossible to to ignore it. You took what felt like your last breath before you opened the door to the studio. He stood in the other end, hands crossed over his chest, with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“You’re late.”

His voice rang through the big room, leaving an echo. You stepped into the room, the door shutting behind you. Another echo filling the otherwise dead silent room. You didn’t walk towards him, you stayed by the door. The silence making the lump in your stomach grow even larger.

“What are you doing?”

He asked, still with a slight smirk.

“Come here, we have dancing to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Your entire body was screaming for you to run out the door and never look back. But your brain didn’t let you move.

“Come over here, y/n. Right now!”

He said in a strict tone, once you didn’t listen. Your own feet moved against your own will, as you slowly started moving forward. You put your bag down on your way.

“Good girl.”

He said, barely audible. But you heard it. All your senses were sharpened. He watched you like a predator, as you can closer and closer. You stopped at a reasonable distance. Close enough to have a conversation with him, but still just out of reach.

“Why so gloomy? You’ve made the biggest decision in your life, baby.”

He stepped closer to you. Every single muscle in your body tensed as his hand met your face in a loving embrace.

“I’m going to make you a star.”

He whispered. You shook your head.

“I don’t want to have sex with you, Mr. Park.”

His smile faded at your words. You straightened your back, trying your best to seem confident and not afraid of the man standing in front of you.

“This is all I’ve ever dreamt of. It’s all I’ve ever worked for. But I refuse to think that this is the only way I can get what I want.”

You said as you tried to conceal the shaky breath escaping your mouth.

“Please, I don’t want to sleep my way to fame. I want to earn it. So tell me, do you see a true and genuine prima ballerina in me. Or am I just a piece of meat?”

He looked at you directly in your eyes. You didn’t break eye contact. You were not giving up, not yet. He broke out in laughter after a few seconds of staring into your soul.

“Oh, y/n. Please.”

He continued laughing, as if this whole thing was a joke. You stayed as serious as ever.

“This is what I like about you. You’re so stubborn, so strong. You don’t see that often around here.”

He turned serious in a split second.

“Why would I be lying to you? Huh? I can sleep with whoever I want. If I wanted just a one night stand I’d pick one of the other girls. Someone easier to manipulate.”

His hand slid around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“I’m a man of my word, y/n. I see potential in you, I wouldn’t just say that to anyone.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips. You instinctively turned your head away, opting to looking at the two of you in the mirror. He looked back at you in the reflection.

“I see my next prima ballerina.”

He said and pointed at the mirror.

“You’re not just beautiful and talented, you have a strong mind. You’re perfect.”

You sighed, looking back at him.

“Why would you waste it all?”

He asked and softly caressed your chin. Your gaze flicked down, wanting to look anywhere but him. He was right, why would you waste the opportunity to have everything you’ve ever wanted?

“It’s honestly a package deal. You get fame and fortune, and good sex. I don’t see what the problem is honestly.”

You looked back up at him again. Trying to conceal the ick you just got.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

His face turned into a devilish grin.

“Join me in my office.”

He hastily got rid of your bollero, throwing it onto the floor. The second you stepped into his office his lips were on yours. Your fate was sealed, there was no return now. He grabbed at your hips harshly, digging his fingers into you with desperation and lust. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked over to his desk, leaving your lips for a moment to push whatever was on it onto the floor. It all hit the floor and made a loud crashing noise. He placed you onto the desk, continuing his heated attack of your lips.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, baby.”

He said in between kisses. Working on your wrap around skirt and tights. You lifted yourself off the desk so he could slide your garments off. Leaving you in your underwear and tank top.

“You have no idea how crazy you’ve made me. How many sins I’ve done in your favour.”

His lips crashed back onto yours. You started thinking of your career as you heard him removing his belt. Preparing yourself for what was to come. He pushed your upper body down onto the desk, making your head dip over the edge of the desk. You looked at his office upside down, staring at the expensive painting hanging on the wall. You felt him sliding your underwear to the side.

“What a pretty pussy you have, baby.”

He said before sliding himself into you, making you moan as you felt yourself being filled up.

“Better than I ever imagined.”

He groaned as he started to slowly move. You continued to look at the painting of the ballerina with a bouquet in her hands bowing down in a gracious pose. Your hands found his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. Your breath got heavy as you felt his speed increase.

But still you focused on the ballerina. You imagined it was you. Maybe that would be you after this. Bowing deeply to the applause of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people in the audience. They all applauding you. You moaned loudly once he hit a good spot.

“You like that? You want it, huh?”

“Yes.”

You said in a shaky voice. You wanted this, you wanted this more than anything. This was all worth it in the end. You would be a star, a prima ballerina. Someone little girls looked up to, and adults wanted to be. You would be like that ballerina in the painting. Gracious and beautiful in every way. Everything you ever aspired to be. Everything you were meant to be.

“God, I’m gonna-“

You belonged here. On that desk. In that studio. Alone on a stage, bowing to the audience after the greatest performance of their lives. You were Mr. Park’s new prima ballerina.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

#bts yandere #yandere bts #jimin x y/n #jimin x you #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #bts jimin #park jimin #jimin #yandere jimin #yandere!bts #yandere park jimin #yandere!jimin #jimin smut #jiminie #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #yandere jimin x reader #jimin dark icons #dark jimin #yandere x reader #jimin x female reader #jimin x fem!reader #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #park jimin x y/n

[hobicakess]

PLAYING DANGEROUS | (one)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: warnings: no thoroughly edited, EW Ai , character death (nothing to cry about), black/plus sized coded reader, talks of murder, talks of torture, corporate evilness, violence, Mc reads hobi to filth, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), one maknae introduction, maknae helping cause chaos, cigarettes, Yoonie is an angry kitty this chapter, bratty mc, mc is kinda a bitch (a bad one at that), unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday) SMUT— nothing too crazy , choking, sub mc , missionary, mating press , man handling (yummy)

a/n: HEYYY omg this took me so long to write and it's just a little over 2k words... LMAO I suck i know, but we're getting there I pinkie promise. I really hope you all enjoy this and constructive criticism is welcome!!

TAGLIST: @sumzysworld @bbgniecyy @paramedicnerd004 @heartsbr0ken @grltwin @superbbananananana @secfir @darkuni63 @thisladysperspective @p34rluv @secfir @sarcastic-cookie @coffeedepressionsoup @ot7nem @italiekim @cynicalbitch666 @jalexd @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop

2 MONTHS BEFORE JACKS ESCAPE

Kim multimedia station.

The place of business was always busy and there was never not anything to be done, Endless reports and stories in need of being written, the podcast teams always chattering about the hottest topics.

KMMs was a journalist's dream — your dream.

You were a known face around the company both online and in person. A pretty foreigner who was damn good at her job and that made you favored by the late CEO Kim. You were always hand picked by him to attend press conferences in his favor. He treated you kindly, allowing you into a large world of business pulling strings to get you the best stories helping you— a once broke freshly graduated English major climbing up in the world of reporting.

It's only been three months since CEO Kim passed away and the company was changing fast. You were grateful that you weren't a part of the many that were fired and replaced by new faces and AI, and you were now noticing how low the viewers were on podcasts, social media and blogs.

KMM was dying out very slowly and that meant you might go away with it. You were dedicated to your work, and the company that helped you become the person you were today.

And you were willing to do anything to not be forgotten.

Sleeping was not on the agenda right now.

A quick double tap to a cell phone showed an awfully bright screen reading 4:40 am. You had been lying in your bed mind racing while staring at your wall for the past hour and a half.

Jack in the box.

Rolling out the tangled bedsheets and arms you pull on a large T-shirt that'd been discarded a long with the other items of clothing on the floor shuffling towards the desk in the corner of your room. Laptop already open from your previous research when you pull out a pack of cigarettes from your drawer before plunging deep into the web. Your mouse clicks every site as your pen moved furiously taking in all the information you can about said serial killer.

“On May 14th, 2018 Serial Killer Jack In The Box was finally caught after a murdering spree in Seoul. The killings of ordinary outgoing individuals taken with a quick swipe of a knife and a long torture method.”

"Before his kills Jack likes to taunt his victim. He ironically sends them a Jack in the box to let them know they're next. The next few days said victim lives in constant fear, looking over their shoulder, leading the mostly known outgoing victim to slowly isolate themselves from loved ones in fear of them being hurt, eventually this leads to insomnia and in some cases hallucinations and histera. Then Jack disappears for a while making them think they're finally okay and he's gone until he wasn't."

The scoff that left your lips echoed through the quiet room, breathing out the nicotine smoke from your Cancer stick.

So Jack was an antisocial loser and took out his lack of social skills on people who could.

"No one knows of Jack's real identity. Police have reported that the man has lived many lives and has owned many faces for the past 11 years. Reporters have tried their hardest for the past 4 years to get a one on one interview with the man but unfortunately he refuses to talk only resorting to violence."

A reporter says he went for a handshake and left with two missing fingers.

Another says he watched the man bang his head on the wall hard enough to bleed when he asked the murderer's real name.

A broken arm??

“Fuck” you huff flicking the ash at the butt of your cigarette. You stare at the mugshot photos supplied at the end of the article. Dark wide eyes, shaggy black hair falling over his forehead, the piercings sticking from the bridge of his nose eyebrow and top lip.

The look definitely screams psycho but…. he was kinda hot. It took everything in you not to go and click the endless fanfiction that you stumbled upon.

A pair of warm lips press onto your shoulder causing you to jump. Turning to look over your shoulder at the shirtless sight of Kim Namjoon.

“We have to be up in four hours, baby, come back to bed.”

You hum into his embrace with a pout stubbing out the cigarette into the pink ashtray beside your computer. “Did you know Jack went through eight lawyers? Until one day he randomly called Kim Seokjin. That high profile guy from the law firm we're partnered with? they must know each other”

Though Namjoons attention was not on the words that were leaving your mouth. Hands wander all over your body while placing kisses on your neck, and cheeks.

“He literally bit the finger of the last reporter clean off. Like do you know how much force you have to put into that? I think he reads too much gothic liter—”

Cutting you off with a quick grab of your jaw turning your head to connect his plump lips to own. Pulling away with a cheeky dimpled smirk, “I’m not sure how I feel about you talking about another man.”

“Well you shouldn't feel any type of way because you aren't MY man.”

You squeal when you're lifted up from your chair and throw over a broad shoulder. He huffs when he throws you onto the memory foam comforter, your (his) shirt lifting up your thighs exposing your bare cunt. Immediately his big body was hovering over you as he slightly pressed his body weight onto you.

“Get off you dick” pushing and smacking his tan shoulders but that did nothing for you at this moment. “Well I'm trying to put it in you.”

He bullies your legs up over his shoulders as he taps his hard piece against the wetness between your thighs. “If something happens to me during this case I swear” choking on your words as he slowly but surely presses his thick head into your cunt.

“Fuck — may the man himself strike me down.”

Hand reaching to grip your throat smashing your lips together. Luckily your mind left the thoughts of the serial killer , the only thing on your mind right now was Namjoon and his ridiculously large cockm

It wasn't weird for you to obsess over your assignments to the point where it was all you thought about. Everyone does that.

Though this one you couldn't seem to finesse your way out of. Without the help of the late Kim you'd have to pull your own strings to get what you wanted and now that Namjoon was in charge he loved making your life harder.

“Y/n.”

Your head snaps up from your laptop hand stalling from moving on your notepad face to face with gorgeously pale Detective Min Yoongi.

“Yoonie” you smile, motioning for him to sit in front of you. He looked different from when you last saw him all the months ago, more tired and cat- like you guessed it was from the heavy responsibilities that came with the position as Chief of Seouls police department

“Did you just call to look at me?”

“Sorry it's just been . . a while” you push the large Iced Americano towards him as a peace offering. He gladly accepted it with an amused raise of an eyebrow, “You know I just wait for your call.”

“The phone works both ways” you internally wince , you sounded like an estranged father talking to his child.

“What do you want?” A frown spread across your face and lips, shutting your laptop. “I can't call an old friend for a friendly coffee date.”

You waited for his answer as he took his time generously drinking from his plastic cup. With a smack of his lips he sat the cup down leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You only call me ‘Yoonie’ when you want something” eyes scanning over the scatter of papers and notes taking up your side of the table.

“This must be serious”

Hands going to clasp under your chin you sigh, cutting the bullshit. “Three years ago you were the lead investigator on the Jack in the box case which brought you from rookie detective to Chief of police.”

“I was wondering if you could help old friend out tell me what you know about-”

“No.” He cuts you off with little to no thought.

“No? Why not? This isn't our first rodeo Min”

There were plenty of times Yoongi helped you with stories without a second thought. He'd give you case files, witnesses, and anything you needed but why not now?

“Anybody but him”

You scoffed at him, irritation rising in your body. “I need this story not anyone else.”

“Well I can't help you, princess.”

“That's bullshit!” Your voice raises causing a couple people around you to turn their attention towards the two of you. He stood up, chair scraping the floor, slamming a few dollars on the table. “Call me if you need anything else.”

Turning on his heel he leaves you sitting there in your slowly growing rage. You quickly hopped from your seat chasing after him, managing to catch up with his long strides. “Yoongi slow down dammit”

He twirls around grabbing onto you by your arm, “Who gave you this story.

“Namjoon he-” you whine as his grip tightens on your arm as his eyes slit. The angry red scar on his face makes his angry stare look even more intimidating. “You don't understand how dangerous Jack is. Just because he's behind bars doesn't mean he won't have people on the outside that will whack you for being a nosy reporter.”

He softens his hold, lifting his hand to rub your cold cheek. “If something happens to you. . .” He shakes his head letting you go.

“Sit this one out Y/N I don't want to see you in our precinct mortuary.” with that he walks away disappearing into the crowd.

You sniff doing the walk of shame back to the Café sitting back in your seat with your head in your hands

Detective Min Yoongi.

“Excuse me Ma’am” the blonde barista came over holding a box of blueberry doughnuts which happened to be your favorite. “It's on the house.. everyone saw your fight with your boyfriend, manager said this might help cheer you up.”

“Oh! Thank you but he wasn't my boyfriend, just a work colleague.” You tried to defend yourself but the sympathy in his eyes only grew so you accepted the treat with another thank you. “What is your name? I've never seen you here before.”

A soft brightens his pretty face, eyes scrunching slightly adding to the prettiness of his face. “Park Jimin, Ma’am.”

MEANWHILE

The buzz of the electrically wired door opening didn't alert the man that stayed deep in the corner of his cell. “Long time no see.”

“Why now?” the visitor asks, “After all this time you choose now.”

He giggled, the haunting sound bouncing off the walls. “Did you bring what I asked for”

The visitor threw the pictures and the box of cigarettes into the cell. “Answer my question.”

“It's been three longgg years.” He finally answered, moving from his corner to pick up the photos. “Tell me is she this gorgeous in person?”

“Just for her?”

“And I need to stretch my legs” he laughs louder this time the high pitched sound echoed even through the thick steel door that kept him locked in tight.

Jack was ready to play more games

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

#bts x black reader #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #yandere yoongi #jungkook x you #bts series #bts fic rec #bts fanfic #yandere bts #yandere hoseok #park jimin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #hobi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #bts poly au #bts poly #bts yandere #yandere kpop #bts mafia au #bts a/b/o #august d x reader #ceo bts #min yoongi x reader #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #bts smut

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | Chapter One

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 1,3k

Warnings | +18, explicit language, kidnapping, yandere, use of a sleep-inducing substance (not specific which one), mentions of prostitution

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Here is the spin-off of Happy Ending, I hope you like the first chapter! 🥰 I would like to warn you, Jimin in this story will not be kind and soft like Jungkook from Happy Ending, he is very cruel and selfish, he is a hard yandere

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Next

2020.

Three years ago.

According to Kim Seokjin's rules, the choice of a whore was something very important. The girls chosen had to meet very specific requirements, such as not having anyone who would one day - following their disappearance - look for them. Seokjin did not want any trouble, and Jimin was not about to give him any. He took a long, deep drag from his cigarette, inhaling its bitter addiction, before blowing a thick, white cloud of smoke out the car window. He stretched his gloved hands over the steering wheel, waiting for the next move. Namjoon, at his side, checked that the situation outside was okay -nothing was moving in that neighborhood, not even the shadow of a stray cat - and this created the perfect moment. "Are you ready, Jimin?" asked the older man, beginning to prepare everything needed. The dark-haired boy's eyes sparkled, he nodded confidently as he adjusted his coat. One last glance at the clock and shortly after exactly 1 a.m. they got out of the car, long strides on the asphalt counted only by the ticking of their smart shoes. Seeing them, anyone would have said they were two well-to-do men about to attend an important event, except to glance at the squalor of the houses shrouded in darkness around them. Namjoon carried a dark briefcase in one hand; Jimin walked confidently beside him before turning into a small, narrow, grim alley.

"They have to stay here, don't they?" asked Namjoon, observing the crumbling building. "That's what they wrote," confirmed Jimin, finding the lobby door already wide open; it was a low-level Motel, it wouldn't take long. They found a guy half asleep behind the counter, the two exchanged a glance of understanding before Jimin approached the man in his forties striking him dryly in the back of the head, the latter only having a chance to let out a choked scream before passing out completely. "Thanks, man," sneered the boy, beginning to look up the names he was interested in in the register, along with the room number and corresponding key. He nodded to Namjoon when he had everything and they went up to the indicated floor. Jimin's alert and shrewd eyes immediately found what he was looking for, he pointed the door to his taller friend and together they opened it, they found the lights off, but they were trained to see even in the dark so they went straight to the two beds in the middle of the old and stale room, it was clear that such a Motel could not have all the comforts and amenities with what little they paid, there were not even cameras, it was an unsuitable and unsafe place for young girls like those asleep in those beds, Jimin thought with a grin.

Namjoon set the briefcase down on the floor, retrieving ready-made syringes from it, handed one to his friend and headed for one of the beds, Jimin chose for himself the one near the window and as the filtering neon sign light increasingly put the young girl's sleeping face on display, he inspected the young girl's face carefully, drinking in the sight of her softly parted lips and the warm breath rhythmically lowering and raising her chest. He lowered himself slightly to her neck, cautiously inhaling the light scent of roses emanating from her inviting skin. Namjoon, meanwhile, had already finished gently injecting the pinkish liquid into the other girl's arm, the substance would send her to sleep for a few hours, and Jimin should have hurried to do the same, too bad that he was merely gazing longingly at the woman, completely rapt. Namjoon noticed this and with a shade of reproach in his voice, called him to his senses. "Jimin, get a move on! Don't let your cock harden just now," he scolded him in a low, irritated tone. The young man puffed slightly, before uncorking the loaded syringe, unfortunately not accounting for the girl's light sleep, who squinted her eyelids as if disturbed by the presence looming over her with the eyes of a hawk.

She thought she was dreaming, but the figure of Jimin took a distinct and material form in her field of vision, which at first glance left her speechless.

Then a shrill scream left her throat, she tried to pull away, but Jimin was immediately on her, trying to block her, Namjoon caught up with an expletive clenched between his teeth and grabbed the girl by the shoulders, pushing her against the bed, the latter only in time to kick like a horse, managing to hit Jimin at jaw level, which pissed him off in no small measure, without any kindness or regard he stuck the needle of the syringe on her exposed thigh thanks to her pajama shorts, it penetrated the skin like butter and the girl stiffened screaming in pain, she fainted from shock without needing to wait for the injection to take effect. Namjoon let go a sigh before staring furiously at Jimin, who was touching the affected area with glacial eyes fixed on his victim. "What the fuck has gotten into you! Did you have to give her time to wake up?" he hissed, his silver hair glowing with the neon light outside, and Jimin gritted his teeth at the saintly appearance he was displaying at that moment. "I didn't think she'd wake up so easily, okay?" he blurted out, before pulling the girl's body to himself without any care, Namjoon shook his head before retrieving the other one more gently, the one had been good the whole time and he hoped the other Motel patrons hadn't heard the screams.

They should have moved in complete silence inconspicuously, but Jimin did not know what silence was, evidently. They went out with a placid step, from the other doors they heard absolutely nothing. Perhaps they were not occupied rooms, or most likely no one wanted to risk their skin to go and see what had happened to the girls, it was still a bad neighborhood that one. Jimin held the unconscious body rigidly in his arms, full of lividity. When he had watched her sleep he had called her a tender little angel in his head, well he was wrong, and very wrong, too. The bitch squealed like a goose and he would have loved to stretch her neck, which Namjoon wouldn't let him do anyway, they served without the slightest bruise to the Dark Moon. They arrived at the car without further trouble, even the road had remained deserted, and loaded the bodies into the back seats. "Let's get out of here before something else happens," muttered the friend, Jimin huffed annoyed, getting back into the driver's seat. "You're making it too tragic, no one heard us," he said, earning an angry look. "Because it was a sleazy Motel, you make all that noise in a normal house and see if no one hears you."

Jimin waved a hand, as if to say that he didn't give a shit about Namjoon's worries, bit his own lower lip piercing as he drove taking semi unfamiliar roads to leave no trace of himself. It would not happen again, after all. Yes, it hardly ever happened that he got a hard cock in the middle of a kidnapping on behalf of the Dark Moon, that had been new for him as well. He cast a glance at the other girl as well, but she said absolutely nothing to him, his body seemed to be attracted to the bitch who had kicked him, this made him even more irritated. "Should we take them to the warehouse?" The warehouse was an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere, they used it to hide their equipment, but also often to torture and kill, or as in this case, keep the goods cool just long enough to make decisions about them, it was convenient and practical. "Yes, Jungkook said that Seokjin will lose time at the Dark Moon, there have been clients giving the girls trouble and he is cutting some names off the list," Namjoon replied, reading their maknae's messages. Jimin nodded, taking the last descent of that country road that would lead them straight to the warehouse.

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[sopejinsunflower]

a/n: so this was stuck too long in my WIP it might feel a little rushed at the end but  I’ve been in a slump for awhile so this is a small win to be able to finished. I hope you like demon Jimin. 

Warning: 18+, minors DNI, virgin reader, deception, a little Stockholm Syndrome-ish, death/suicide insinuated (this one’s dark, so please be caution before reading)

Summary: Having an imaginary friend is normal for most kids. What’s not normal is when you don’t outgrow it well in your teens. He’s persistent and possessive but when you meet who you thought was the love of your life, can you really deny your own heart? Even when he’s a demon lord?

Pairing: Park Jimin x you, Kim Taehyung, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin

Tags: Demon Jimin! Yandere Jimin! Penetrative sex, controlling partner, deception, dom Jimin ofc because obviously this is supposed to be Set Me Free inspired.

Word count: 14k

FIVE

The small hand wrapped around the pencil made the stationery look twice its usual size, gliding over the white paper as the little girl scribbled, forehead creasing in concentration, tongue sticking out. 

“What are you drawing?” her mother asked, leaning over to see the purple drawing. It’s a little difficult to make out but she can see two stick figures, one sitting down at a table with pigtails, drawing something, the other hunched down in the corner of the room. The woman pointed to the figure with pigtails. “Is that you, sweetie?”

The little girl nodded, pigtails flying into her face. 

“And who’s this?” her mother pointed to the figure in the corner.

Without looking up, the pencil still moving over the paper as she added in more details, she answered, “Jimin.”

“Who’s Jimin? Is he your new friend from kindergarten?”

The girl shook her head. 

Her mother frowned, a little confused. “Oh? Is he one of the Kim boys? I forgot their names.”

Again, the girl shook her head. She finally stopped drawing and looked up to her mother, sighing as if annoyed she had to explain this simple thing. “No. Jimin lives in my closet, mummy. He doesn’t go outside.”

Her mother’s blood ran cold, the words stuck in her throat. She watched her daughter go back to drawing, not even realising the way her mother’s heart was going wild. She licked her lips and tried to calm herself. An imaginary friend. That’s all, she thought. “I see. I didn’t know you have a friend in your closet. Is he a little boy?”

The girl sighed. “Of course. He’s my age.” She paused, putting the end tip of the pencil to her lips. “I think.”

The mother breathed a sigh of relief. She stood up and ruffled the little girl’s head. “Okay. Well, make sure you two play nicely, okay? And clean up after you’re done playing. Got it?”

“Okay, mummy,” the girl said, going back to her little art. Just as her mother was about to leave the room, the woman heard the girl continue to talk. “Did you hear that, Minnie? We can’t make any messes, okay? Or I’ll get in trouble.”

The woman smiled bitterly to herself. Being a single mother is hard enough and her daughter having an imaginary friend only further proves how lonely she was. She just hopes the Kim boys will be good friends with her, enough so that she won’t need an imaginary friend anymore. New place, new possibility, right? 

Sighing, she disappeared into the kitchen. “Honey, we're leaving in ten minutes. I need you to be ready by then,” she shouted over her shoulder as she prepared the girl’s overnight bag for the Kim’s household.

THIRTEEN

“Give it back, Taehyung! Give it back!”

You chase the laughing boy around the kitchen island, grabbing an apple from the bowl, ready to lug it at his head when Jin appears around the corner and easily plucks the ribbon from Taehyung’s hand. He gestures for the apple instead and you exchange the items; throwing the apple his way as he slides the ribbon across the island. “Thanks,” you say to him as Taehyung sulks. “It’s good to know not all of you are jackasses.”

Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you before going upstairs to his room, leaving you with the eldest. Munching on the apple, Jin points to the ribbon. “Another award?”

You nod, suddenly shy. “Yeah.”

“Oh, which one?” he asks, intrigues.

“Jimin.”

Jin chuckles. “Don’t you draw anything else?” 

“I do,” you snap, the shyness quickly replaced with annoyance. “But the Jimin ones always come out the best. And why is everyone so pressed about what I paint?”

“Because,” Jin says, taking another bite of the apple, “you’re literally drawing a ghost. He doesn’t exist yet he’s so,” he waves his hand around, “vivid. Enough for you to paint him like that. You’re obsessed with him.”

“I’m not obsessed!” you retort. “And he’s not a ghost.”

“Right. Your imaginary friend when you were five,” Jin adds. “That you keep drawing even until today. It is a little weird considering the fact that you’re drawing him the same age as you.”

You shoot him a dirty look. “Aren’t you going to class or something?”

Jin laughs. “I am.” He picks up his bag and slung it over one shoulder. “And this is my house, by the way.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Fine. I’m leaving anyway.”

“I’ll drive you home,” Jin offers.

“No, thanks. I’ll walk. I don’t want to meet your college friends,” you say, hurrying out the back door before he can protest. You stuff the blue ribbon into your bag and briskly walk up the street to your place. 

“You’re angry. Why?”

“I’m not,” you huff out, keeping your eyes up front. 

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re lying to me.”

At the change of Jimin’s tone of voice, you finally turn around to look at him. His eyes have grown darker, pupils dilating to the point that the whites of his eyes are gone. The stormy look on his face is enough to scare you to admit the truth. “I don’t like it when people talk about you like I’m crazy.”

“Why do you care what others think?” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You don’t answer, looking down at your feet sullenly as you walk. 

“And what’s with Jin, huh?” he prods, leaning close to your face. “I told you to keep away from him. I told you to keep away from all of them.”

“They’re nice,” you say lamely. “I don’t know what your problem is with them.”

“They’re always trying to break us apart. I don’t like anyone who tries to break us apart.”

You remain quiet the rest of the way home because arguing with him is futile. He always gets his way, you think, as Jimin places a cold hand on your shoulder, his fingertips sinking into your flesh.

TWENTY

The world is spinning a mile a minute and the arm wrapped around your middle is only making you want to puke even more. 

Namjoon slowly places you across the sofa, making sure both your feet are up before he finally fully lets you go; gently, of course. He rushes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and an ibuprofen for when you wake up just as Taehyung emerges from the bathroom with a bucket to place by your side. 

You’re murmuring something, your words slurred, making it hard for Taehyung to understand. He puts his ear close to your mouth, listening hard in case you’re telling him something important. 

“What’s she saying?” Namjoon asks as he comes back in. He places the glass of water on the coffee table and the painkiller tablet next to it. “Damn, maybe we should’ve gone easy for her first time drinking.”

Taehyung shrugs, motioning for him to stay quiet. 

“Jimin,” you mumble through barely opened lips. “Don’t hurt them.”

Taehyung backs away, eyebrows raised all the way up. He turns to his older brother. “She’s calling for Jimin.”

Namjoon’s face clouds over, frowning in concern. “I thought she'd gotten over that phase years ago.”

  “Jimin, Jimin,” you call out, your voice growing louder, somewhat distraught. Taehyung and Namjoon exchange glances, unsure of what to do. Just as it suddenly started, you become quiet, breathing evens out as you sleep. Occasionally, your forehead creases over like you’re having a bad dream but the two brothers are just relieved that you’re passed out. 

“That was” Namjoon says, “unnerving.”

Taehyung gently pushes back your hair from your face, subtly caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. He thinks Namjoon doesn’t see it but if he did the older one remains quiet. Taehyung stands up. “I’ve texted her mum. She’ll be home soon. Let’s go.”

“You sure we can leave her alone?” Namjoon looks unsure about leaving but he also can’t deny the unsettling feeling creeping down his back, like he’s being watched. 

Taehyung hesitates before answering, “She’s sleeping now. Should be fine. Come on.”

In the old leather armchair in the corner of the room, Jimin watches as the two Kim brothers walk out of the house, not missing the way Taehyung looks back at you before closing the door behind him. He had seen the way that boy touched you, had seen the way he had pined over you all these years yet you never listen. 

Jimin squats down next to your head, one finger tracing the outline of your face. “I told you to stay away from those boys but you never listen to me,” he whispers, his words piercing straight into your dreams. “And here you are, drunk from your first time drinking. Twentieth birthday and you spent it with them.” You moan, turning your head away. Jimin smiles but there’s no tenderness in his face. 

When you open your eyes, the room is pitch black, so dark that even the bed underneath you is invisible. You turn your head, trying to look around but one movement makes you realise that both your wrists are shackled to the bedposts, or what looks like the direction of where the bedposts are supposed to be. The iron chains clang noisily as you pull on them. Immediately, your heart drops. 

“Jimin,” you call out, your voice coming out weak. “Jimin, please. Where are you? You know I don’t like being here alone.”

“I know, my sweetness,” comes his voice from within the darkness. He materialises in front of you, standing at the foot of what is supposed to be the bed in his usual all black leather pants and boots. He’s bare from the waist up, his toned body on full display; something that’s never happened before. “It’s amusing that after all this time, you still haven’t gotten used to this place.”

“Get these chains off, please,” you say, doing your best to keep your voice soft despite the panic rising in your chest. Yes, you’ve been in this space before but never like this. Something is different. “My wrists hurt.”

Jimin tuts, shaking his head. “Not yet. They need to be on for now.”

“What’s going on? Why is it different this time?”

“Because, my love,” he says, walking over to your side, the echoes of the heels of his shoes loud in your ears, “today’s your twentieth birthday. It’s time for your initiation.”

“Initiation?” you ask, looking up at him. 

“Yes, love. Have you forgotten?” He places a hand on your head, the icy cold of his skin making you shiver to the bones. 

“For what?”

Jimin smiles widen, something that has never offered warmth for as long as you’ve known him. Something inside you withers in fear but you can’t deny the other sensation starting up like a fire being lit up at the sight of his beautiful face split by that awful, awful smile. Jimin kneels down on one knee, bringing his face close to yours. “To entwine your soul with mine.”

A dry chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop yourself. “ You’d have to be real to have a soul, Minnnie. You’re just a…”

The look on Jimin’s face takes away the words from your tongue. He knows something you don’t, something you’ve had a hunch about all these years yet had been too stubborn or too scared to actually make yourself face it. With a blink, Jimin’s eyes turn jet black and your breath is stuck in your throat. “What are you?”

Jimin lets out a laugh, a loud belly-aching, rumbling laugh that seems to echo all around the space as he throws his head back. It’s not a nice sound and yet he never ceases to look just as mesmerising as always. The contradiction is throwing you off. 

“Fifteen years and only now you’re asking,” says Jimin when he finally stops, looking down at you with such pity. “I think it’s too little too late, my sweetness.”

You gulp tightly around the lump in your throat. “And what if I refuse? To do the initiation?”

The smile is quickly wiped off his face and suddenly he’s on top of you, straddling your chest but not really sitting. He leans his arms over the wall behind you, sneering down at you in a way that strikes both fear and anticipation of what he can and will do, making your stomach turn in a somersault. “It’s not a choice, love,” he hisses, his breath hot on your cheek. “I will have you, one way or the other.”

The menacing tone of his voice makes your heart beat faster. “Wh-what do you mean? Jimin, you’re scaring me,” you stutter out, the chains around your wrists rattling ominously. “I want to go back. Take me back, Minnie.”

“I will, just not right now,” he purrs into your ears. “Honestly, I’m hurt. Your twentieth and you celebrated with others, the Kim brothers no less. And you ignored me the whole night.”

“They threw me a surprise birthday party,” you counter, pleading. “How can I just walk away? They’ve been nothing but nice to me. They’re like my own brothers. They took care of me when my mother wasn’t around.”

“I took care of you!” he bellows, his eyes burning red this time. “I kept you company all of those times you’d cry yourself to sleep missing your dear mummy. I chased away all the bad dreams at night, I stayed with you every night when you couldn’t sleep without a night light on. Not them! They just swoop in when you move into a new place, free babysitting for your neglectful mother. They did all the easy work.”

You can’t help the way your throat constricts from being yelled at, something Jimin, in all his sadistic traits, had never actually done. Jimin sees the way your face crumples as you bite on your upper lip to keep them from wobbling and he cools off a little. He leans his forehead against yours, his dark fringe falling over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. You ignored me at the party.”

Your heart jumps at the sight of him sad. You try to touch him but your wrists are still bound, clanging the chains noisily when you move. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I- I got carried away. I was overwhelmed. There were so many people. You know I won’t ignore you on purpose, Minnie.” 

Jimin stares into your eyes, that same puppy-like look still swimming in his gaze, the kind of look that melts you so easily. It effectively wrecks you with guilt whenever you do something he doesn’t approve of, an ammo he’s used over and over again throughout the years. You lean into him as best you can with the chains’ restriction. “You believe me, right? Minnie? You know I need you.”

“Do you? After all these years, I’m starting to think you’ve forgotten that promise you made me,” he says, visibly pouting, sounding the saddest he had ever been. “You promised me that you won’t ever leave me if I keep the monsters away.”

You lick your lips and nod. Yes, you remember that promise, made when you were five, that first night he climbed out of your closet last, after all the other shadows came out first. In return to keep you safe from the others, you made that promise that only a child could. 

“I’ve kept the monsters away, haven’t I?”

You nod. 

“I’ve kept you safe every night from then on, haven’t I?”

You nod again.

“And so why do you choose the brothers over me?”

You swallow, shaking your head. “I don’t. I choose you.”

The corner of Jimin’s lips twitch. “You do?”

You give a small nod. 

“Really? I’m not convinced,” he states, readjusting his position, sitting a bit lower so that he rests on your pelvic bone. 

“I do,” you whisper out, feeling the heat creeping up from your waist down. It’s an odd feeling, something that has never happened before. 

Jimin’s more of a childhood friend, imaginary as he is. You both grew up together, just you and him against the world when your world had been so dark and so lonely, back when your mother would leave for work before the sun had even risen and come home when you’re already asleep. He was your saviour first then a friend, a protector and a companion but somewhere between being a tween and when puberty hits, he became a deep, dark secret. 

No one could see him and after enduring being called a liar and ostracised in the first grade, you learnt the hard way to keep your mouth shut and pretend he wasn’t there following you everywhere you go when in public. You told everyone that Jimin had disappeared, that you had outgrown him just as any children with their own imaginary friends. Only the paintings remain. In truth, you’re not even sure why you painted him in the first place but those paintings are the only times when people would actually listen when you talk about him. In the past tense, of course. 

Jimin is beautiful. He’s ethereal and your paintings of him were haunting. They evoke emotions from those who see them, making them pause and stare and weep if they look too long. You don’t paint him a lot, only five among the hundreds of canvases, one for each time Jimin had brought you into this dark space you don’t have a name for, yet they attracted the most attention, so much so that you got a full ride to the Royal College of Art. But Jimin won’t let you go. 

Jimin grinds onto you, leaning over so his face is inches from yours. “You do what? Give me the full sentence, love.”

Your throat is dry but you force your voice out anyway. “I choose you, Jimin.”

“Always?”

You whimper as he presses his crotch against yours, the sneer back on his face. “Always.”

The first time Jimin brought you into this space, you were six. It was an escape, a quiet safe space from the raging storm outside and your mother was still not home. You two had huddled together. The second time was at twelve, when your mother’s boyfriend of 6-months kept creeping into your room at night. Jimin had been furious then and while you hid in this space, Jimin promised you he would tell the man to stay away. He never returned to the house since and though your mother cried for his disappearance, claiming that she’d been ghosted, whatever that meant, you had been the happiest.

At fourteen, when the boy you thought you liked, asked you out as a prank for the whole class to laugh at you, the dark space was where you ran to hide, sobbing into Jimin’s embrace. It had been at the end of the school year but when the new semester started, the boy and his family had left town so suddenly that people only heard about it two weeks after. Taehyung had said, “Good riddance,” and even though you were relieved, it had felt too coincidental.

It was at sixteen when the hunch came about, growing in the pit of your stomach like some kind of fungus. A family had just moved in next door and they had a son, Adam, a year older than you; shy and sweet-seeming the first time he came around with his parents, exchanging pleasantries and jokes with your mum at the front door. They moved in the middle of the year and your mum had assured Adam that you would show him the ropes at school, to which you had obliged. Both you and Taehyung had gladly taken him under your wings, including him into your fold of friend group (which included only you and the Kim brothers, really). 

It took him less than three months to finally show his true colours. He had broken into your house when nobody was home and when you came back from your part-time job at the yoghurt shop, he had sprang out from the closet and pinned you to the bed. You don’t remember the rest of the details, except seeing Jimin looming behind him. You blinked and you were in the dark space, away and safe from danger. The next morning, his parents found him hanging in his closet, stiff and blue. They moved away shortly after that.

“I prefer you being here with me, mind, body and soul,” drawls Jimin, pulling you back to the now. “Where did you go?”

You’re pulled away from your train of thoughts and see Jimin leaning over you, eyes black, anger written all over his face. “Sorry,” you whisper. 

“You’ve chosen me,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Act like it.”

He grabs your sides, nails digging into your flesh and you wince in pain. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I’m here. With you.” You take a deep breath. “Mind, body and soul.”

“As you should,” he says, his voice softening. He nuzzles your neck and you feel his teeth nip just along the collarbone. “Tonight, you will officially be mine.”

You feel his hands move slowly to your chest, softly kneading your breasts while his mouth never leaves your neck. You feel him press himself flat against you, the bulge in his pants so prominent you can feel the shape of him. You lay there, frozen, unable to say no nor even move away. Your heart is in your mouth and you’re too afraid that if you say something, it’s going to jump out and you’ll be dead. 

Jimin pulls away, staring directly into your eyes. The jet black orbs in his sockets reflect back your fear-stricken face but he isn’t fazed. He smiles and your stomach twists and before you can do anything (not that you are capable anyway), his lips are on yours and it feels like your whole body is on fire, and not the good kind either. Your lips feel like someone had stuck live wires directly to them and the burning pain makes you scream out, muffled by his mouth. Tears pool in your eyes.

Then you feel his tongue snake in and your eyes widen in surprise: a forked tongue. You struggle to get away but Jimin holds the back of your head in place, grabbing a fistful of your hair. The chains around your wrists clang noisily next to your ears as you start to squirm under him. Squirm as you are, your mouth seems to be reacting the opposite way; moulding with his like they want to be fused together; you both want him and are disgusted by him, lips pulling him in, body resisting. He finally pulls back, displeased.

“I want to go back. Please,” you sob, unable to hold back the tears anymore.

“We’re not done yet,” he says, forked tongue catching the tears. “I haven’t even started, my sweetness.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Start?”

“The initiation, you silly goose.” He continues to lick down your neck, catching your earlobe in between his teeth. 

You swallow hard. “Jimin, what is the initiation?”

“You have to give me something you’ve never given anyone else before,” he whispers into your ear and the hairs on your neck and arms stand on end. He moves to the other ear to add, “Your virginity, my love. Your one and only. It shall be mine.”

Jimin’s fingers unbutton your jeans and just as he’s about to shimmy it down, your brain clicks and you finally yell out, “Wait!”

Jimin lets out a growl, raising only his ember eyes to glare at you. “What?”

You’re breathing hard as your mind races to try and find a good excuse. You’ve never even had a boyfriend, never even got the chance to go on a first date. While your female friends, limited in number as they are, gushed about their partners, about the things they would do, about the sweet little gifts they’d get on Valentine’s, you had smiled and been happy for them, doing your best to ignore the bitter feelings clawing at the back of your throat. 

You’ve had suitors, of course, but for some reason they never stick around. They’d ask you out but then stood you up when you arrived with not even a text to explain or apologise. If they managed to get past the first date, you never hear from them again after it ends. You’re only twenty, your whole life is ahead of you. It’s stupid but you want your first time with a man to be special. You want to be loved up, taken out on dates, wooed off your feet and be promised the world even if it’s all a lie. 

Jimin is looking at you, head tilted to the side. “You want all that?”

You stare at him. “Huh?”

Jimin frowns. “All the things you were thinking about just now. You want all that?”

 “How-”

“Just answer the question,” he snaps impatiently.

You nod, unable to say the words. Jimin sighs, tilting his head upwards like he’s facing with a minor inconvenience. “But why? It’s such a waste of time.”

“I-,” you stutter but clear your throat and try again, although your voice comes out small. “I’ve never experienced it. I want to know what it feels like. All this time I’ve only ever seen others go through it and I just…I just want to know what it feels like. To fall in love and to be loved.”

When Jimin doesn’t say anything, you quickly add, “I won’t…I won’t have to sleep with the person. I can tell them I’m waiting for marriage.” At this Jimin snorts but you ignore him. “Just…just let me experience all that and then you…you can have my…my everything.”

You’re not sure what Jimin will say but he looks like he’s actually thinking about it. “I promise,” you say, just to convince him. 

Jimin crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes going back to normal. “Okay, fine.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “Really?”

He nods, almost excitedly. “Sure. Anything for you, my love.” He leans down once again, caressing your forehead. “I’ll let you have all that. And after that, I’ll take what’s mine.”

“Thank you,” you whisper out, feeling elated. “Thank you, Minnie. I promise I’m yours.”

Jimin smiles. “That you are.”

You’re back in the real world, already in your own bed. Jimin is nowhere to be seen and he’s still not around the next day. A week passed by and you haven’t seen any sights of him anywhere, like he’s just gone. Like he was never there. It’s strange to suddenly be alone, truly alone for the first time in years but it’s also liberating. You’re free.

A month later, you’re starting to believe that it had all been your imagination after all, that maybe you believed in him so much so that you made him real. You spend more time with the Kim brothers, even get to travel to Europe to visit the Royal College of Arts with Taehyung to see if you’d like the place. You do, so you take up the scholarship and move abroad with him, although he goes to a different school. 

You made a lot of friends, went to a lot of parties and art shows. You painted a lot, too, and none of them of the man that haunted your youth. Even his face is a blur, memories that seem to be fading faster than normal and by your sophomore year, you’ve forgotten all about him. 

You travelled a lot, mostly around Europe, with different friend groups as well as the Kim brothers whenever your holidays aligned. You met a lot of people, went out on a million dates, experimented with different genders and even had a short fling with an up-and-coming actor, but the one thing you could never do was fall completely in love.

You’d meet someone you think will be the one but nothing ever survived past the third month. This time, it’s not them; it’s you. You just can’t seem to give them your all, pulling away the moment they fall. You don’t know why either and you have no intention of hurting people. So you stop, telling people you no longer have any interest, that you’re asexual, that you’re anything but normal so that people will leave you alone instead of trying to set you up or ask you out.

You miss the connection, you miss having someone to come home to, someone to be there when you wake up from another nightmare. But if you can’t give it your all, it’s only fair you don’t give anything at all. Thus, your purity remains.

 TWENTY-SEVEN

You finish applying the fresh coat of lipstick in the mirror, standing back and admiring the view, making sure that not a hair is out of place and your makeup is perfect. Satisfied, you give yourself a nod.

“Let’s do this,” you say to yourself, snapping your purse shut and fixing your skirt. You exit the ladies’ room and make your way to the meeting room. A new partner is coming on board and you, being one of the leading managers for the big project next month, will have to give a presentation to the man, a briefing to bring him up to speed. You take a deep breath and enter.

Your team and your boss, Martin, are all sitting around the big oval table. They look up and visibly relax when they see it’s you. You look around the room. “He’s not here yet?”

“He’s coming up now,” Martin answers, pulling out the chair next to him for you. He leans in to whisper, “Everything ready?”

You nod and smile. “Yes. Everything’s taken care of, don’t worry.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “We need to make sure he’s happy with this. He’s bringing in a lot of money.”

You bend down to retrieve the folio that you’ll be using when the door opens and everybody stands up. You’re still trying to pull out the thick papers from your bag as you hear a new voice greet the room. You freeze, confident you’ve heard it before. You pull out your materials and look up, seeing the new partner for the first time. 

He’s handsome, dark hair with a middle parting to his fringe giving him a boyish look. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his grey slacks as he makes his way around the table towards your boss. He extends one hand and then turns to you, the smile never leaving his lips. You take his hand and jump a little at how cold his skin is. “Jimin Park,” he says, his voice velvety pleasant, “Pleasure to meet you, y/n.”

The way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine for what reason you’re not sure. Have you met him somewhere before? Everybody takes a seat and the meeting begins. You speak for most of the time and Martin beams at you proudly at how well your presentation is. All the while, Jimin only watches intently, listening and nodding but not saying anything more than a few clarification questions here and there. He never stops smiling. 

When you reach the end of the presentation, the room gives a round of applause, and so does he, eyes never leaving you, that same smile constantly on his lips. You should be happy, you should feel accomplished that he seems happy, too, but a nagging feeling tells you that something isn’t right. As everyone gets ready to go for a team lunch, Jimin included, you finally realise what it was that bothers you so much. 

He’s smiling but it never reaches his eyes; there’s no warmth in them. 

***

“So, how long have you been working here?”

Jimin sits across from you, casually leaning back against his chair like he’s very comfortable, monolid eyes sharp on you. 

You clear your throat, shifting in your seat like you’re uncomfortable under his gaze. “A little over five years now,” you say with a polite smile. “Got in right after graduation and never left. They’ve taken great care of me.” You turn to Martin who  puffs out his chest proudly. 

“One of my best, that one,” your boss chimes in, pointing at you while your coworkers chuckle lightly. 

“I bet,” Jimin mutters, eyes still on you, but you think you’re the only one who caught it. “Well,” he says, louder now, turning to your boss, “you have me on board. Just let me know what support you need and,” he turns back to you, “I’ll do my best to give it my all.”

The table cheered and everyone fell into light conversation all around. All except you and Jimin, staring at each other, him looking like he knows things you don’t, a smug little smile on his lips, you, a little put off by how much attention he’s giving you. You think about telling your boss of how uncomfortable Jimin makes you feel but you’re a little hesitant that it might backfire since Martin is awfully fond of him. You wrench your gaze away from Jimin, finally, focusing on your food, doing your best to ignore the fact that you can feel he’s still watching. 

Weeks go by and you’re thrown into one of the most hectic phases of the project, launching in a couple of months. This is when your phones won’t stop ringing, business people coming and going from your office in constant streams and a lot of fuck ups with orders. You’re running around everyday, barely even sitting down, never mind to eat and it’s starting to show by the slight gaunt look on your face and how your skirt is barely hanging on your hips. But you love what you do so you power through. 

You’re on your hands and knees in your office, going through the white blueprint of the event hall spread over the floor in front of your desk, checking every minute details to correct before you send off copies to the vendors when a voice from behind you makes you visibly jump. “Nice view.”

You turn around to see Jimin leaning against the doorframe of your office,a coffee cup in each of his hands and a white paper bag tucked under his arm. You scowl at him, wondering what he meant because your ass would have been pointing in his direction when he said those words. You sit up on your knees. “That’s sexual harassment,” you say, your voice curt.

Jimin’s lips twitch but his eyes widen in surprise, whether genuine or not, you can’t tell. “I was talking about the venue. I’ve been there and those wide windows at the back will give a really great view of the city. The clients will love it.”

The scowl remains on your face but you move sideways so you can bend over the blueprint again, but this time, not ass presenting him. You hope he goes away, taking the hint that you’re busy. 

“Here. I brought you coffee and some sandwiches,” Jimin says, entering your office without asking for permission and placing the paper bag on your desk. The coffee cup, he holds it out for you. 

You glance at the cup briefly before nodding to your desk. “Thanks. Just leave it there. I need to finish this.”

“No.”

You pause, looking up at him in surprise and confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I said, no,” Jimin repeats; the same easygoing smile on his face, the same cold look in his eyes. “You need to take a break or you’re going to collapse before this project even finishes.”

You stare at him, contemplating on not satisfying him because who the hell is he to tell you what to do? But a steaming cup of coffee sounds so good while it’s still hot, rather than later when it’s lukewarm. You sigh and take the cup from him, standing up as you do. “Thanks,” you say again, much softer this time and almost shyly, mostly for being told off. You take a sip and immediately feel the tension melt away. You sigh heavily, tilting your neck this and that way, cracking them to relieve the stiffness.

“Do you always throw yourself into work like this?” Jimin leans against your desk, the rim of the cup at his lips but eyes looking down at the spread out blueprints and other papers all over the floor. And yet, it feels like he’s watching you anyway, from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s a busy time.”

“Really?” he asks, looking sideways at you. “You sure you’re not running away from something? Distracting yourself with work?”

You turn to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

He meets your gaze. “Oh, just wondering.”

You stare at him, incredulous, but decide not to answer him. “You should go.”

“Don’t you paint anymore?”

You freeze, looking at him like he’d just grown another head. Your heart rate spikes a little as you comb back through your memories, trying to think if you told him anything about your past hobbies. No, you don’t think so. No one in this office knows that you come from an art background, only assuming that you had graduated from the business school of RCA. You swallow thickly, subconsciously backing away from him. “How do you know I even paint?”

Jimin looks at you calmly, letting five seconds pass by before moving away from the desk to point at a picture frame set on it. It’s a picture of you and Taehyung on your graduation day, the Royal College of Arts main building in the back. “Oh, I just assumed that from that picture.”

“Most people assumed I came from the business school,” you say, your voice a tad bit shaky.

Again, Jimin looks slightly alarmed. “Oh, I didn’t even know they had a business school.”

Bullshit, you wanted to say but your mind is reeling.

“Well, from your reaction, I’m guessing I was right,” Jimin continues, languidly relaxing back against your desk. “So, my question still stands. You don’t paint anymore?”

You don’t like his tone of voice; condescending and smug, like he knows more than he lets on. You find yourself answering, “No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t.” Then, on second thought, you add, “I can’t.”

Jimin tilts his head. “Why?”

Your forehead creases over as your eyebrows stitch together, struggling to keep your emotions in check because you hate it when someone questions your past. It’s always been one of the problems with prospective partners; they always want to know everything. And then get hurt when they do. But to Jimin, you square your shoulders and the look on your face hardens. “None of your business,” you snap, a little too harshly before regretting it. He is your boss after all. Sort of. 

“Is that how you talk to me?” His voice is low and cold, devoid of any of the friendliness he had earlier. 

You gulp. “Sorry, sir. I’m just- I’m a little stressed out right now,” you confess, not even sure why you are. 

“Go home,” he says, his voice back to normal. “Take a rest.”

“But I have to get this-”

“I’ll handle it,” he promises, pushing off the desk and coming over to you. In a few steps, he’s standing in front of you, toe to toe, too close for personal space, looking down his nose at you. He’s even more handsome up close, breathing down on you like you’re nothing but a child that needs to be put in place. “Go.”

You give him one last look before gathering your things, including the sandwiches he brought, and leaving out the door. You glance back only once at the elevator, looking at him looking at you, sipping on his coffee casually, one hand in his pocket. 

- - - 

You remember going to bed. You remember falling asleep. But you don’t remember waking up and being…here.

Where am I? What is this place? Everything feels so real, so vivid that you’re very sure you’re awake instead of dreaming. But there’s nothing here, just pitch black. You can’t see anything except for yourself, like a game character in a glitch where the world didn’t render correctly. You walk around but no matter how long and how far, there’s still nothing, making you feel like you probably didn’t move at all. 

If this is a dream, how do you wake up? Because this darkness and nothingness is unsettling, even more so when you can feel the cool linoleum feel under your bare feet but can’t see it. You stop moving, feeling defeated, hoping you’d wake up soon. 

“Hello, my sweetness.”

You jolt, turning around towards the cool voice and seeing the silhouette of a man a little further away. You squint, trying to see better who it is, stepping closer. “Who are you?”

“You know exactly who I am,” comes the voice and then, like a lighting on stage, his whole feature grows more visible. Jimin Park, your second boss. 

“What the hell?” you exclaim. “What are you doing in my dreams?”

Jimin’s mouth perks up. “You think this is a dream?”

You look around. “It’s the only explanation.”

You blink and suddenly Jimin is right in front of you, looming so close you have to look up to look at his face. You teeter and step back a pace. Like usual, he has that same smile on his face but his eyes, his eyes are different. They are jet black. “Still think this is a dream?”

You nod but hesitantly. You notice then that he’s bare from the waist up, toned muscles on full display and you think, So this is what he looks like under the suit. You can’t help but stare, unable to deny to yourself the arousing interest in your chest. A wet dream, you think, that’s why he’s here. 

Jimin laughs lightly, like he can read your mind. He leans closer and you half close your eyes, expecting his lips on yours. When it doesn’t happen, you blink your eyes open again to see a smirking Jimin. “Were you expecting something?”

You pull away, huffing. “No.”

A finger catches your chin, holding it in place as he makes you look at him. “You’re lying to me,” he says, his voice threatening and your heart races. There’s something familiar about his words, something familiar in the way you feel in his presence. The more you think about it, the more you realise that there’s a subtle fear of him. You wonder why because these past months, Jimin had been nothing but nice and a fair new boss to everyone.

Nice. But not warm. There’s always a cold edge to his demeanour, like everything is an act. Like he’s only pretending. 

The look in those jet black eyes is heavy and almost searing at the same time. You want to say no again, but something in the back of your mind warns you that he won’t take another lie and you wouldn’t like the consequences. “Yes,” you breathe out in a whisper.

“Yes what, my sweetness?”

Your mouth is dry but you force yourself to speak. “Yes, I was expecting something.”

“Good girl,” he coos and you feel his cold hand settle on your side, pulling you closer. “See, wasn’t so hard to admit it, was it?”

You don’t answer, feeling his fingers trace up and down your side, sneaking under your pyjama shirt and grazing your skin, making you shiver from the coldness and the anticipation. It’s a dream anyway, right? You can do anything in a dream. You tilt your chin up, looking at him through puppy-eyes and pouty lips. “Well?”

Jimin smirks again, only one side of his lips turning up. “As you wish.” He leans down and connects your lips to his and the searing pain shoots through your lips and down to your toes, making you moan into his mouth. Your eyes shoot open and you’re suddenly back in your bed, staring at your ceiling, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. 

You sit up, looking around the room but everything looks in place. The clock on your bedside table shows it’s three in the morning and you have to be awake in another three hours. You lay back onto your pillow but you’re too worked up to go back to sleep. Your lips are still tingling and you touch it gingerly with the tips of your fingers. You recall the dream, seeing your half-naked boss standing in front of you and you shake your head.

Ugh, you think, I have to get that image out of my head. 

The next day at work, you’re barely able to look Jimin in the eyes. You can’t help the image that keeps popping at the front of your mind every time you see him so you avoid him at all cost, leaving a room when he comes in, looking away when he’s talking to you. This continues on until the next week to the point that everyone else is starting to notice. Martin finally pulls you aside into his office one day.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks, steepling his fingers together on his desk. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you reply, feigning ignorance. “Is something wrong?”

He sighs. “You’ve been avoiding Jimin and even I can see it. Did something happen between the two of you?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. In truth, you’re replaying all of the dreams you’ve been having the past week. Every night, without fail, your second boss, Jimin, has been visiting you in your dreams, doing things you only wish he would do in real life, things you don’t even dare to admit to wanting. Every spot he lays his lips on burns like he’s made of fire and yet you crave it every time you wake up. “No, nothing happened,” you reiterate. 

“Are you sure?” he prods. “I thought you two were getting on well. He speaks highly of you, too.”

“He does?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

“Yeah. It’s starting to make me a little jealous,” Martin says with a chuckle. “I brought him in but it feels like he’s stealing away my best worker.”

You shift in your seat, ignoring the unsettling feeling in your chest. You laugh lightly along with him. “Don’t worry about it. He’s not stealing me away from you. I’m all yours, boss.” 

“Really?” 

His tone of voice shifts and dread fills your lungs. No, please no. He’s been so good to you and you have loved this job. Please don’t. Martin stands up and walks over the desk to stand in front of you, his crotch rightly aligned in front of your face as you sit there. You push back the chair a little bit. 

“You’re an amazing employee, y/n,” he says, his voice low and soft. “And I would like to make sure that you’re loyal to me.”

“Of course I am,” you say with a smile. “I’ve been here for a long time, haven’t I? I love my job and I would like to stay here as long as I can. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh, but I do.” He leans his hands on both the arms of your chair. “And with a new, young partner in the picture, I’m worried that he’s going to get all of your attention.”

Your throat is tight and swallowing is painful. “He’s-he won’t. I mean, you’re both my bosses so I don’t really have the power to say no if he has other projects for me when this one finishes.”

“Well then, prove it,” he purrs, his face up close to yours. “Show me how loyal you’ll be to me.”

You lick your lips. “But- but I have. All these years I’ve-”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he says, his eyes darkening. 

“Then what do you mean?” 

Martin smiles and steps back. His hands go to the fly of his pants and you think you’re going to throw up. Your skin feels clammy and cold and there’s a ringing in your ears. The office door bangs open, slamming against the wall and both of you look around to see in shock. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” says Jimin in a serious tone. If he knew what was happening, he didn’t show it. “But we have a problem with one of the vendors. I need y/n to help me smoothen things out.”

You spring up to your feet and excuse yourself, hurrying out of the door with Jimin behind you. You make a beeline for the ladies’ and shut yourself in a cubicle, breathing heavily, leaning against the door as if Martin might just burst right in. You lean your head against your arm, pressing against your eyes to kind of shake yourself out of the panic that’s building. 

“My sweetness.”

You look up, blinking at the sudden change of environment. The cubicle you locked yourself in has disappeared, replaced with nothing. Nothing but darkness. The voice that calls for you isn’t the usual flirt; it’s serious, solemn, commanding. You turn around to find Jimin standing there, this time, for the first time, fully clothed in all black. His eyes, though, are fiery red. 

You don’t know why you did what you did next but it felt like the right thing at that moment. You sob, running into his arms as he catches you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. He lets you cry into his shirt, caressing your hair and holding you quietly as your body shakes with every weep. It takes a while until you’re finally calm enough to step back, wiping at your face with the back of your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “I just- I didn’t know what came over me.”

Jimin watches you, quiet, not saying a word until you finally look at him. “It’s not the first time you’ve run to me when someone’s hurt you, my love.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”

The fire in his eyes dim a little as he tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re always so stubborn. You never listen. So even if I tell you, you won’t believe me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin sighs but the kind of sighs that tired people let out when dealing with annoying situations. “Still so stubborn. Never mind. What shall we do about him?”

Your eyes widen. Does he know after all? Or is this just your subconscious making him know what had transpired in Martin’s office? The latter, of course. It’s the only explanation. You’re dreaming again. Or hallucinating. The thought of what Martin had done resurfaces and suddenly you’re angry; angry at him but also at yourself for being such a fool for not seeing it for what it is even when he has been hinting at it for all these years. But why now? Why only now showing his true colours? 

You bark out a bitter laugh. “There’s nothing I can do. He’s the boss. He’ll get away with it or I’ll be asked to move away.” Then you start to nod your head. “Yeah, maybe it’s time for something new.”

“Go back to painting?”

You glare at him. “Why are you so obsessed with that?”

Jimin chuckles and changes the subject. “Well, if you want I can make him go away.”

You wipe the remaining tears from your cheeks but the anger is still there. “Yeah, sure. Do that.” You press your palms to your eyes, an act to rub out all the crying you did earlier but when you open your eyes again, you’re back in the cubicle. 

You step outside and wash your face, steeling yourself to leave the ladies’ room to face whatever or whoever is outside. You take a deep breath and open the door and Jimin is waiting on the other side, leaning sideways against a wall. 

“You okay?” he asks, approaching you. “Did something happen with Martin?”

You stare at him blankly, thinking back to that conversation, although imaginary, you just had with him in that other place. Thinking of what Martin did to you, or almost did to you, and the fact that you had been dreaming of your other boss nearly every day this week feels hypocritical. “Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Nothing happened. You said something happened with a client?”

“Vendors,” he corrected, eyes as cool and calculating as they always are, looking at you as if he’s trying to figure out why you’re lying, not that he knows that. Does he? “It’s fine. I took care of it while you were in there.”

You raise your watch to your face. “That soon? Are you sure? I can call them up again just to ensure everything is good.”

Jimin gives you a small shake of his head, a small hint of a smile on his lips. “Nope. It’s fine. All taken care of.” Something in the way he says the last part gives you a strange vibe, like he wasn’t talking about the vendor problem entirely. 

It doesn’t take long until news reaches you, literally on the 8PM broadcast on TV while you are eating dinner of microwaved pasta. The picture splashed on the screen is one you recognise well, having seen the man for the past five years or so everyday at work. The news talks about how, with the help of an anonymous tip, Martin J. Russell of Rocket Media Ltd has been arrested for multiple sexual offences, spanning years of sexual assaults of past coworkers with pictures and videos found on both his work and personal devices. 

Your fork drops into the container as you stare, mouth agape, at the TV. What in the-

As much as a part of you is singing with relief, another part of you can’t completely dismiss the persistent notion that whatever happened to Martin wasn’t coincidence, that it didn’t just happened right after he tried it with you and you had-

You stop thinking, standing up abruptly that your chair scuttles backward noisily. Jimin. Something about Jimin is squirming at the back of your mind but you can’t quite put a finger on it. Not a minute later, you receive an email from HR, blasted to all employees, requesting that if you need to speak to someone, you may contact HR representatives or a mental health hotline, as well as the office will be closed for a week due to the current investigation ongoing. All employees will have the option whether to take days off during the week or work remotely and either choice will have you be paid like normal. 

There is more to the email, including a subtle request for employees to keep their mouths shut except to authorities or HR and it makes you think about earlier today. Bile rises to your throat at the idea of having to admit what had happened today when you just want to forget about it all. Your phone rings.

It’s Jimin, now the one and only boss.

You take a deep breath and answer it. 

“If you’ve heard the news then you know why I’m calling,” says Jimin over the phone, his voice sullen. “I’m asking you again, did something happen between you and him today in his office?” 

You’re quiet, your voice stuck in your throat. 

“Y/n,” he calls, a warning tone. “I don’t want to have to ask twice.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you finally answer, your voice sounding breathy. “He’s caught. It’s done.”

There’s a brief pause before he finally speaks. “So something did happen.” When you don’t respond, he takes that as an affirmative. He lets go of a deep breath. “Take the week off.”

“But the project, we’re already behind on-”

“Fuck, y/n,” he snaps. “We have worse issues on our hands right now. Take the week off. I’ll deal with things here and the clients.” Then he sighs. “Have you spoken to the authorities yet? About what happened today? They would want to hear about it.”

“No. I don’t intend to,” you reply shortly. 

“Why? You’re protecting him?”

“I’m not!” Your blood boils at the accusation, your free hand in a tight fist on your side. “I just want to forget all about it. Nothing actually happened. He…he didn’t manage to do anything before you came in.”

“I see,” he replies softly. “Are you okay?”

You want to tell him yes, of course you are, nothing happened, right? You should be okay, you should be fine because you were luckier than his other victims, people you worked with and who you were completely oblivious to the suffering they were going through right under your nose. You were so ignorant of what was happening around you that you had respected the man, and had even admired him as an amazing boss. How many times have you gushed about the man? How many of those times had it been to a victim?

Fuck. 

Before you even realise it, the tears are already spilling, big, fat pearls crawling down your cheeks. You don’t manage to say anything when Jimin says, “I’m coming over,” and the line cuts. You’re not sure how long you remain on the floor crying, hugging your legs close to you when there’s a loud knock on your door. You can’t seem to get up, the few steps to the entrance area seem too much for you. 

You hear some shuffling around outside, hear the person lift up a flower pot and retrieve the spare key you hid there. You hear the sound of the key in the lock and doorknob turning. You see Jimin standing in the doorway, his eyes easily zoning in on you huddled on the kitchen floor. You watch as he strides over and picks you up so effortlessly and carries you to the sofa. He places you down gently and goes back to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he’s back with a cup of tea for you.

He makes you drink it, sitting next to you without saying anything much, letting you cry it out. He remains quiet even when you’re hiccuping through leftover sobs, sitting there leaning on his knees, his fingers locked together, staring down at the floor. He only finally looks up when you make no more sound except for the occasional sniffles. “Better?”

You nod, taking a tissue to blow your nose. 

“Hungry?”

You shake your head but your stomach betrays you, sounding out like a dying whale at sea. He smiles softly, pulling out his phone. “Does Thai sound good to you?”

This time, you nod happily, eyelashes still glistening with tears.

You both only start to talk after dinner is finished and pushed aside, when Jimin, his coat jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, had offered to do the dishes. You stand next to him to do the drying, making small talk, exchanging little information about each other’s lives. 

“You’re from Busan?” your eyebrows go up in surprise. “I’m from there, too.”

“I know,” he replies. “I read all the staff’s profiles.”

“I see.”

“Have you been back?”

You shake your head. “Not really. There’s nothing left for me there. My mum has remarried and the only family I have left are actually here.”

“Oh?”

You smile. “Yeah. Well, we’re not related by blood but I practically grew up with them.”

You don’t see it but Jimin’s eyes flash dangerously. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you say, “the guy you saw in the picture? That’s Taehyung. Him and his brothers are like brothers to me. Growing up with a single parent is hard and I was always stuck with them when she had to go to work. And she worked a lot.”

“So just them then? No one else?”

You tilt your head, thinking. “No, I don’t think so. Just them.” When Jimin doesn’t respond, you ask, “What about you? Any families around here?”

“Just one,” he says, eyes on his hands washing the forks and spoons. “We grew up together. I was always the one she runs to when she has problems and I make them go away.”

“Oh. That’s interesting.” You take the fork from him, drying it in between your fingers. “What’s she like?”

“Clingy and a crybaby.” He chuckles softly. “But I love that about her. I love being needed and I know she needs me.”

“She lives with you?”

“Not yet.” Jimin finishes the washing and dries his hands. “If you’re feeling better, I should get going. But…”

“But?” you look up at him.

“I know it’s weird timing but,” he pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Would you, um, want to grab lunch tomorrow? Or not, if you don’t want to.”

You’re not sure about going on a date with him for two reasons: one, he’s your boss and two, well, with the whole shitshow happening at the office, it’s hardly a good time for a date. 

“Um, sure. I guess,” you answer, feeling a little shy. “If it’s just lunch.”

Jimin’s lips twitch upward. “Sure. I’ll pick you up around noon?”

- - -

That lunch turned out to be more than just lunch.

Jimin is funny and makes you laugh with his deadpan jokes and ridiculous punchlines. Underneath that cold and aloof demeanour, he’s actually sweet and caring. He plans things, takes you out on surprise dates, cooks meals for you and even gives you little gifts on random days, things that made him think of you. He makes playlists for you and even one of those classic mixtapes on CDs when he finds out your car has a CD player. He gathers small bunches of daisies when he finds out you love them more than roses. He surprises you with little things like your favourite tea or your favourite snack and takes candid photos of you to share with you later at the end of the day.

On days when you are watching movies together at your place, he would rub your feet and make cups of tea for you. He would listen to you vent or tell stories about your day. He’s your biggest cheerleader with work, walking that thin line between being a fair boss and a good friend and flourishing at it. When the relationship passed three months, you both decided to report it to HR. You were moved to a different department but you both go out for lunch together almost everyday.

You are completely and madly in love, for the first time ever at twenty-seven. He’s everything you ever wanted, everything you ever dreamed of even as a young girl. He sweeps you off your feet and makes you feel the most comfortable. He respects your wish of waiting a little bit more the night he sleeps over that first time, ending up just cuddling the whole night. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t make you feel guilty about it. You do a lot of the other things, kissing and going even as far as third base and not once did he ever try to push your limit.

 By the time you hit six months, he surprises you with a promise ring and you think it’s time to introduce him to Taehyung and the others. 

“What’s his name again?” Taehyung asks over the phone as you get ready for the meeting tonight. Both Namjoon and Jin will also be there, excited to meet your first serious boyfriend.

“Jimin,” you quip, the phone pinned in between your shoulder and ear, hopping on one foot to pull up the stocking over your knees. 

“What?” Taehyung’s voice comes out a little too loud, a little too panicky. 

“I said, his name is Jimin,” you repeat. “Look, I got to finish getting ready. You can ask all the questions later at the restaurant, Tae. I’ll see you guys there.”

“You ready, babe?” Jimin’s head pops in.

“Yes,” you answer, getting your handbag and slinging it over your shoulder. “I’m a little nervous. It’s the first time I’m bringing a boyfriend to meet them.”

Jimin laughs, pulling you by the waist. “Wait, you’ve never introduced anyone before me?”

You shake your head, pouting. “No. Nothing ever lasted long enough for me to do that.”

“I see.” Jimin twirls you around. “I’m honoured.” He gives you a little bow and you giggle. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be on my best behaviour tonight. I promise.”

***

“This is Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jin.”

“Jimin, my brothers.”

The four of them exchange handshakes all around before finally sitting down, Jimin pulling out your chair, of course. The dinner starts with small talk, mainly the brothers asking you and Jimin the typical questions: how did you two meet? How did you guys get together? How did the company react to the news of the relationship? 

When the main course arrives, Namjoon switches gears by focusing the questions on only Jimin, asking his background, interests and his work. Jin adds in here and there but Taehyung remains quiet the whole time. He would stare intently at Jimin, frown and then look away. He would give you the same look, too, but he’s sitting too far away to actually ask you anything quietly. 

During dessert, Jin stares at Jimin for long enough that the other man notices. “Do I have something on my face?”

Jin shakes his head. “No. You just look familiar.”

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Jimin chuckles. 

“Yeah, but I can’t shake this feeling off like I’ve seen you somewhere.” Jin tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. “Hmm. I wonder where.”

“Me, too, hyung,” pipes in Taehyung, surprising you slightly since he’s been quiet this whole time. “The name, too. I’ve heard it somewhere.”

Jimin smiles politely. “My name is very common, especially for girls, actually.” He gives a lighthearted laugh, squeezing your hand under the table, a signal for you to say something. 

“So, how long will you be in town, Jin?” you ask, diverting the group’s attention and it was enough to move away from the topic of Jimin. The rest of the night goes well and the both of you arrive at your place giddy with happiness.

Jimin heaves a relief sigh. “Well, I guess that went well.”

You beam up at him, both hands in his as you stop in front of the front door. “I think it did.”

He nods, gazing lovingly into your eyes. He pecks a kiss on the tip of your nose and you scrunch it up, giggling at him. He pecks another kiss to your forehead and you lean into him. Your heart is beating a little bit faster than usual, both nervous and excited for what’s to come next, what you will ask him for. You know he won’t, but you will. You think it’s time.

“Jimin,” you call him softly and he catches your lips in between his. You moan into him, feeling yourself melting into his front, his arms strong around your waist. He feels safe, like home. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he murmurs against your lips. “What was it you wanted to say, hm?”

“Well,” you say, suddenly shy, suddenly looking down at both of yours and his feet but you steel yourself and put on a brave front. He’s been so patient for you, you can do this for him. “Do you want to go inside for a cup of tea?”

Jimin smiles, his eyes giving you a knowing look. “I would love that.”

Inside, he insists on making the tea, telling you that he knows how to make it just the way you like it. You both sip the tea in silence at the kitchen island, exchanging glances over the rim of your cups like some kind of young teenagers flirting across the hall when you’re only sitting opposite each other. His eyes turn into little half-moons and you know he’s smiling behind the cup, the butterflies in your stomach kicking up a storm. Oh, you are very much in love and for a person at your age to feel like this for the first time, you think it was worth the wait. 

You both finish the tea and you take the cups and saucers to the sink. You can feel yourself vibrating with nerves, your hands shaking a little making the cups rattle against the saucers. You place them in the sink and wonder about how to go about it. Do you outrightly ask him? Do you bring him up to the bedroom without saying anything? Do you invite him as a heads up? Ugh, how come there’s no manual for these things.

Your hand reaches for the faucet but Jimin’s hand catches your arm and you feel him press up behind you, warm and strong. With his other hand, he gently pulls back your hair from your shoulder and pins a kiss at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Leave it, my sweetness,” he says into your ear. “We’ll think about the dishes later, why don’t we?”

You hum in response, closing your eyes and leaning your head back onto him, letting him kiss up your neck. You turn yourself around, placing your hands on his chest, feeling the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against your fingers. You look up at him through your lashes, heart in your throat, shaking so bad from…you’re not sure which, excitement or anxiety. He seems to know what you wanted to say by the small smile on his lips but he’s letting you take the lead.

“Do you…” you trail off, not even sure what to ask. You try again, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want to head upstairs?”

Jimin’s smiles widen. “Only if you take me there.”

A strong sudden urge to kiss him overwhelms you and you crash your lips onto his, roughly, desperately, wanting nothing more than to taste him more than you ever had. Your hands go everywhere; around his waist, around his neck, his chest, his arms while he holds you steady, moving backwards and somewhat blindly out of the kitchen with the two of you connected at the lips. When you pull apart to breathe, you’re already in the middle of your bedroom. Wow, that was fast. When did we climb up the stairs?

The bed is right behind you. Jimin leans his forehead against yours. “Are you sure about this?”

Your heart flutters, the anxiety now pushed aside by the anticipation building up from a place you’ve never truly explored. You nod your head once, breathing hard, your fingers fidgeting with a button on his shirt. Gently, ever so gently, Jimin lowers you to the bed, you in between his legs. You continue to make out, suddenly so very hungry for him, catching his tongue with yours everytime it slips in. 

You undress him, plucking at one button at a time, your fingers clumsy. He does the same for your dress, pulling it off little by little until you’re in nothing but your underwear and him with his chest bare. 

Jimin takes you in, nose flaring at the sight of you. You feel yourself shrink, making yourself smaller because no other man has ever seen you like this before. It’s daunting. Exciting, but scary. 

Jimin buries his face in your neck, his hands gently caressing your bra strap and then your side. “White lace,” he breathes. “Did you put these on especially for me?”

You don’t answer, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. And other places. Jimin pulls back, sitting on his knees, looking down at you, raking his eyes from your head down to your toes. There’s a glint in his eyes that you can’t quite read but it makes you shiver. “You know,” Jimin says, eyes locked on yours, “some people say you wear white for your first time.” He chuckles, coming back down for your lips.

“I know,” you mumble. Jimin pauses to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Because it is. My first time,” you say bashfully. “I…I hope that’s okay. For you.”

Jimin’s lips twitch upwards and you see a sort of change in his eyes. But it’s dark so you’re not sure. “Of course, my sweetness. Don’t you worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

The words sounded odd to your ears, a little too commanding, a little too smug. But the moment Jimin’s lips are back on yours, his hands roaming your body, touching in places no one has ever touched before, your head goes completely blank except for thoughts of him, of Jimin, your lover, the one you’re finally sure of surrendering yourself fully; mind, body and soul. 

You’re lost in the throes of heated passion, unaware that downstairs, inside your handbag where you left on the kitchen island, your phone is ringing for the third time in a row. Taehyung’s face is flashing across the screen because back at his place not thirty minutes away, while he lays across the sofa, wracking his brains about where Jimin seems awfully familiar, he had to scroll through his phone gallery. It had taken some time, going back years of pictures until he finally found it: the last photo of you standing in your childhood bedroom, leaving for the last time.

There in the background, placed on its side, is the forty by thirty painting of your imaginary friend, a blue ribbon tacked on one corner.

- - -

The room is filled with your loud moans, unable and probably don’t even care to keep your voice down because, fuck, his tongue feels so goddamn good. 

You fist the sheets on either side of you, legs spread open by Jimin’s hands on your thighs, keeping them from closing around his head. He has two fingers in your cunt, pumping hard, in time with the flick of his tongue against your very swollen clit. You can hear how wet you are by the sloshing sound his fingers make and that alone is arousing to you. You alternate between moaning with your mouth clamped shut but when it gets too much, your mouth will fall open and the room echoes your voice back at you. 

Jimin’s fingers feel so good, enough to make you feel full. In the back of your mind, you’re a little worried about when he finally enters you. How much would that hurt? He clamps down your clit and all thoughts escape through your ears, desperate to clamp your thighs shut but unable to. 

With his fingers still jammed inside you, Jimin crawls up, trailing wet kisses up your torso and then letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “So sweet for me,” he coos, licking his lips. He curls his fingers upward, feeling your walls squeezing his digits. “And so tight.”

You mewl, squirming under him. You fumble for his fly, pulling the zipper down and hooking your fingers around the waistband of his pants, along with his boxers. He helps you pull them off of him, wiggling himself to let the materials fall loosely to his ankles. You sit up on your elbows and Jimin brings his hip to your face. Your eyes bulge at the sight of him; thick and long, precum leaking from the tip, sticking straight against his stomach. 

“Open your mouth, sweetness,” he says, guiding your head with the back of his hand, sliding himself onto your tongue, hissing at the contact. “There you go, just like that. That’s a good girl.”

You place your hands on his thighs for support, eager to please. You may be a virgin but oral sex is something you enjoy giving. You start slow, teasing him with your tongue against his tip and only focusing on the head, sucking on it like your favourite lollipop. Jimin watches you through hooded eyes, hands on your shoulders. He lets out a muffled grunt as you flick your tongue against his frenulum, feeling the way his cock jumps from the pleasure. 

You push yourself down his length, slowly, gauging how much you can take him without gagging. Adjusted, you start to bob your head. Jimin holds your head, both guiding and sometimes pushing your face as low as possible before you start to protest, gagging and slobbering all over his length. You can’t see it but he’s grinning ear to ear. 

When he’s had enough, he pulls you up to kiss you, noticing how red your cheeks are, how your eyes see only him, and how your body is reacting to him. He gently pushes you down to the mattress, one hand behind your head. He leans backward to look at you. “How are you feeling?” he whispers against your lips. 

“Good,” you whisper back, squirming under him, arms around his waist. “I want you, Jimin.”

He smirks but in your haze, you barely recognise it for what it is. “I know. I’ve been wanting you, too. For a long time.”

You nod, thinking that he had meant these past six months. You’re clawing at him, lightly scratching at his skin as he kisses your face, lowering himself down onto you. You’re so sensitive that at the touch of his pubic bone against yours, you gasp. 

“Shh,” he says gently, thumb rubbing your temple. “Look at you. You’re shivering, baby. It’s okay. Relax. I’ll take good care of you.”

Something about his smile sends a shiver down your spine and instead of feeling comforted, panic bells have started ringing in the distance. Your heart rate spikes and suddenly you’re having second thoughts. You quell them down, fighting against yourself to backtrack now. No, he’s been patient enough. He deserves it. He’s the love of my life, there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just nerves. Relax. Calm down. I want this. I want this. Right? You breathe slowly, nodding into his hand, desperate to find the solace you always feel when in Jimin’s presence. Where is it now?

“Jimin,” you squeak as he positions himself in between your legs, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, massaging lightly as he presses your legs apart. You raise your head to look at him and in the dim light, Jimin’s eyes are so dark they’re like abysses as he looks back at you, a soft smile on his lips. 

You feel him pressing against your hole and slowly pushes in. It stings and you throw your head back, eyes squeezed shut. Jimin stretches you out and it burns so much it feels like you are being torn open from the inside out and yet…yet it feels so excruciatingly delicious. All these years of holding back, of never finding the right person to give yourself fully to, and Jimin feels both like a reward and a punishment, like it’s both wrong and coming home at the same time your brain is going fuzzy. You feel him bottom out but the pain isn’t going away and at the same time a tingle is starting from somewhere deep within you. 

Jimin remains unmoving, letting you adjust. The burning dulls a little bit but a fire has been lit up in the pit of your stomach. You wrap your legs around Jimin’s waist, pulling him close. You blink your eyes open and gasp. You blink a few more times but the sight that greets you never changes. Everything is dark. There’s nothing. You see nothing.

You look down towards where Jimin is in a panic but finds him grinning at you in a way that doesn't feel friendly. He starts laughing. 

“Finally!” he exclaims, running a hand through his hair, pushing his hair back. “Years of waiting and it finally pays off. Patience is a virtue.” 

“Wh- what’s going on?” your voice is shaking. “I don’t understand. What are you saying? What’s happening?”

Jimin leans down, arms on both sides of your head. His eyes are like two coals staring straight into your wet ones. “Oh, my sweetness. I let you have a little bit of freedom and you forget about me. But don’t worry. We’ll have all night to catch up.” He kisses you and your lips burn, moaning into him but he doesn’t relent. You feel his tongue licking inside your mouth and your eyes shoot open in alarm at the realisation that it’s a forked tongue. Just like that, the box of suppressed memories springs open and it all comes flooding in.

Pulling back, the same smug grin still on his face, Jimin whispers close to your face, “Do you remember now?”

Your eyes are like two saucers, staring back at him in horror. “No,” you shake your head, the tears creeping slowly down into your hairline. “No.”

Jimin’s lips spread wider. “Oh, yes, my sweetness.” He pulls out of you and starts to gently rock back and forth, ignoring your silent cries. The faster he moves, the more your body reacts, so much so that you pause in between the tears, confused. Your heart rejects him yet your body yearns for him, needs him to keep moving or you might wither away and die if he doesn’t. Your fists tightens around his upper arms, both in anger at the long deception as well as the desperation to let him know that you want more; more of him and more of what he can give. 

It doesn’t take much for Jimin to get the message, the latter one, the grin only growing bigger, the satisfaction palpable even in his two obsidian eyes. He leans down to your face, fingers softly combing back your hair. “I know you’re angry at me, baby, but you can’t deny me either. You’ve promised me yourself.” He kisses your cheek and the spot feels like your skin might melt away. “I’ve only come to collect what’s mine. Heart, body and soul. Well, maybe not the heart. Not yet anyway. But all in due time, my sweetness. I’m a very patient man.”

“You’re not a man,” you gasp in between strokes, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from letting him know how good he’s making you feel. You can feel the girth of him, the length of him every time he buries deep, can feel the delicious stretch of your walls hugging him. Jimin only laughs, a deep rumbling that vibrates straight to your core and with that, you release your lip to let Jimin hear you. 

- - -

When Taehyung arrived at your place at three in the morning, out of breath from cycling like hell, he was already too late. 

The house was empty, void of anything that ever proved that you lived there; no clothes, no photos on the wall, no shoes and definitely no you. Only furniture left behind and food abandoned in the fridge. The police insisted that you must have run away with your lover and your workplace had no clue who Taehyung was talking about when he mentioned Park Jimin, looking at him like he had lost his mind.

“She quit,” the receptionist told him with an incredulous look, turning the PC monitor his way. “See? She sent this email talking about finding something new. It’s all a bit sudden and the boss is pissed. If you hear from her, tell her never to come around here unless she wants her head on a platter. Personally, for me though, I think she got balls of steel. You go, girl.” 

Namjoon told him to quit worrying, that you’re an adult that can make your own life choices and take care of yourself. Jin just laughed when Taehyung showed him the photo of the painting from long ago, shaking his head and telling him he needs to get his eyes checked. Neither of them had any recollection of that dinner with Jimin. Except for him. 

It took him six months to finally calm down enough for his brothers to stop worrying that he might need some serious intervention in the form of hospitalisation. He spent his days at work, pretending to be fine while at night he scoured the internet and the dark web for any signs of you, barely sleeping, one wall of the spare bedroom at his place covered with any clues and hints and circled maps of places he’s searched in. 

- - -

On the other side of the veil, you watch your childhood best friend struggle to find you to death, sitting next to Jimin on the throne, your hand in his as his underlings worship his feet. 

As the dark lord of the underworld, Jimin lavishes you with anything and everything your heart desires, loves you like no man ever could and satisfies you every night like gods themselves are pounding into you. You smile when he kisses you, look demurely as he holds you and pulls him closer each night under the cover. 

You see Jimin in all his underworld glory; a king with a black heart, tattered black wings that spans six feet on either side when he’s enraged, eyes like the abyss when he’s staring deep into your claimed soul. You’re his; mind, body and soul, as promised. 

And yet…

Each night, you realise you’re getting better and better at slipping away without him noticing, coming back into the human world, into Taehyung’s spare room with the maze of threads all over one wall. You’re getting good at moving small objects, like a pen or a pencil. And even that marker Taehyung uses to circle cut up articles and places on the map. 

One day, you’ll be able to send him an SOS, a message for him to help you cut yourself free. But in the meantime, you’ll sit quietly in Jimin’s arms, pretending like you hate where you are, pretending like you’re not in love. 

Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:

#bts jimin #jimin x you #park jimin #park jimin x reader #bts one shot #jimin one shot #jimin smut #bts pjm #jimin fanfic #bts fic #yandere jimin

[trivia-yandere]

hiiii 💕

since you guys are doing requests, can i request one of the members idolverse {whoever you choose} has a fantasy or kink thats kinda looked down upon but they pay someone {mc lol} to live out the fantasy?

i love your guys works 🥰

hello, yes we can write up something quick, I'm sure!

of course with a little twist

creep

park jimin had it all. he was loved throughout the world as an idol apart of one of the biggest groups. he had the popularity, respect and adoration - and a few haters; but what idol didn’t? what park jimin wasn’t expecting for was infamous blogger, Creep, to be reporting on him. writer: lyse @momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree

warning: idol! Jimin, dirty talk, r*pe fantasy/consenual-nonconsensual, yandere moments, crying, screaming, fingering, blackmail, impregnation kink, spitting,

The buzzing sounds of phones surrounding Jimin startles him. He offers a soft smile, raising a brow as he feels eyes on him. Murmurs erupt and he’s concerned.

Jimin feels his own phone vibrate and he goes to remove it from his pocket. He unlocks it and is horrified by the words displayed on his screen.

Jimin’s heart beats faster - as if it’s going to explode out of his chest. The sounds of the murmurs surrounding him grows louder - yet he cannot hear a word.

“Please stop!” a cry erupts through the loudspeaker, a woman’s voice. “Please don’t do this Jimin-ssi.”

Oh no. Jimin heart sinks. His eyes weld with tears.

“Shut up.” Jimin’s voice sounds next and now he feels his feet picking up to move - to get away from this; whatever this was. “You’re nothing but a dirty whore who’s going to take what I give her.”

Please stop.

“Jimin-ah, wait!” Jimin knows the voice of his Hyung, but he doesn’t stop moving. Not until he’s running as far as his legs take him until he collapses on the ground in a fit of tears.

Jimin recalls first meeting you - the beauty of a woman you were - so simple yet effective. You weren’t an idol - which was an added bonus. He was well known outside of the K-pop industry and gossip between idols was something he didn’t need. If you were a fan of his, you did a good job at hiding it. You spoke to him as if he wasn’t famous, an act he appreciated.

“It’s normal.” Jimin recalls hearing.

Normal. But was it?

Jimin takes a deep breath and nods his head, palms sweating as he signs the few documents - most of them being NDA’s and contracts. His heart thumps rapidly and his cheeks are slightly flushed with embarrassment.

“Idols do this all the time.” His lawyer assures, giving him a slight nod. “Not everyone has time to date but we all have needs.” Jimin flushes deeper at the words ‘needs’.

Jimin takes a deep breath and nods once more. He understood he wasn’t the only idol who did this - after all he was recommended by his own hyung. But knowing that essentially, he was signing dozens of contracts and NDA’s (as was other woman) and paying a subscription to meet women who are willing to partake in his sexual preferences. If teenage him could see his adult self and understand what he was doing, he would surely laugh. Paying for sex would have never crossed his mind back in those days.

“We have a few matches.” The Lawyer declares, turning the laptop towards Jimin. “I’ll give you privacy since you have no desire in letting me know your…preferences.”

Jimin nods. He takes hold of the laptop and skims the matches - only a few, yet he understands his own kinks are not exactly ideal.

You sit across from him, legs crossed. You were here in the flesh now - not over a screen on the expensive laptop his lawyer showed him. He was nervous while you appeared nonchalant - did you do this often? He wouldn’t ask, it was none of his business what you did outside of him.

“Jimin-ssi.”

Your voice startles him, it’s sweet and low; seductive. It makes his brain fog with a million questions.

“Relax.” You continue, uncrossing your legs. You wore a skirt and Jimin’s mind swirls at the thought of touching your smooth skin - and bruising it beneath his hands.

“Are you thirsty?” Jimin gulps. He turns away from you where you sat at his kitchen island. His hands are trembling when he grabs a glass ready to fill it with whatever. “I have water, juice, wine-“

“Jimin-ssi.”

Jimin yelps when he turns to find you directly in front of him. You place both of your hands upon his chest, eyes glancing up at his. You were good at this - this couldn’t be the first time. Maybe you were a trained actress?

“How do you want me?”

Your words shoot to Jimin’s core. He can smell your scent - a vanilla cashmere that entices his senses.

“I-I don’t-“ Jimin shakes his head.

“I know what you…like.” You smile up at Jimin, innocent eyes shining with mischief. “…How do you want me to act?”

Jimin was never proud of what his sexual fantasies were. It was disgusting - he couldn’t imagine actually acting out his desire with a woman that wasn’t willing. Even now as you stand before him - paid in advance - to act out his desire, he’s unsure if he truly should be doing this.

Jimin flinches when you begin to cry - real tears streaming down your face. You shake your head and push yourself from him. He reaches out for you, grabbing your wrists. “Y/N-ah? What’s wrong?” His eyes are wide.

“Jimin-ah…” you shake your head, tears halting. “I’m fine. Promise.” You giggle. “I’m here to please you. You have a rape-“

“Please don’t say it aloud.” Jiimin gulps - the word itself disgusts him and he wishes nothing more he would be normal and have a foot fetish; it would be easier if so.

“I apologize. I won’t.” You nod, understanding. “I’m here to help you. Remember my safe word?”

“Apple sauce…” Jimin nods, cheeks flushed.

“Right.” You nod. “Anything you do with me is safe. We’re both consenting adults.”

Jimin nods.

“What do you see in Porn? Maybe I can reenact it with you?” you suggest and Jimin is unsure. He never showed his preferred porn to anyone - it was all far too graphic to show anyone.

“I-I don’t-“

You slap Jimin hard across the face. he’s stunned, unsure what to do.

“I’ll never let a man like you touch me.” You seethe, eyes glaring at Jimin. It’s obvious you’re attempting the best you could at getting Jimin to reenact his desires with you - but he wasn’t going to do anything if you didn’t lead.

“You think just because you’re Park Jimin that you deserve me?” You begin to laugh, shaking your head. “You’re pathetic.”

Jimin licks his lips. He touches his cheeks; the stinging feeling feels like a kiss.

“Did I hurt you?” You snicker, tilting your head and puckering your lips mockingly. You turn away from him. “I’m leaving. I can’t believe-“

You yelp when you feel your hair being yanked back. A hand wraps around your neck and squeezes it.

“You’re a bitch.” Jimin hisses.

“Get off of me!” You flare your arms to push at him, but Jimin is stronger - he may appear petite compared to other men, but he’s a man, nonetheless.

Jimin pushes you into the island. Your back hits it and within seconds, his hands are on your legs. So smooth and it causes him to release a low moan. “You came here dressed like a slut for me, didn’t you?” Jimin chuckles, eyes darkening and tone of voice becoming much deeper. “Smelling good tempting me.”

“Get off!” You scream, pushing Jimin away from you but you don’t succeed.

Jimin’s hands find their way to your bare thighs. He rips them apart, index finger swiping between your clothed clit. “You’re dripping.” Jimin laughs. “Whores are always wet.”

Jimin’s eyes catches yours just in time for the tears to fall - it excites him; the frightened look contorted onto your beautiful face, the tears dripping from your terrified eyes.

Jimin yanks your panties down - it’s simple cotton ones that nearly rips with the force. Quickly, he dips his fingers inside of you. You’re tight but dripping wet and his fingers enter without much force.

“Please stop, Jimin-ssi!” You cry out, hands pushing at his shoulders, but you clench around his fingers.

“Your pussy is so wet, bitch.” Jimin chuckles, thrusting two fingers inside of you. “Crying for me to stop but dripping all over my hands!”

Jimin removes his fingers and enters them into his mouth. You gulp - the sight surprises you and arouses you even, but you don’t break character.

“And taste so sweet.” Jimin moans, popping his fingers from his mouth. He enters them again, thrusting even harder. He could hear your moans mixed with your cries and it fuels him to thrust even more.

You cry louder - it was to die down the moans. Jimin was good at this - you note that this couldn’t be his first - or even tenth time - doing this to a woman. He was sexy, he had the look and the experience; he just needed someone (you) to assist in fulfilling his deepest, darkest desires.

Jimin removes his fingers. The number of times he pleasured a woman signals him when you were close to cumming - and he wasn’t here to pleasure you.

“Open your mouth, bitch.” Jimin doesn’t wait for a response before shoving his fingers into your mouth, tips of his finger reaching your throat.

You gag, vision blurring due to the tears. The taste of your juices hits your taste bud, and a gush of wetness is dripping down your thighs.

Jimin removes his fingers from your throat and you instantly cough. He plays with the string of his sweatpants, untying it so he could be a few steps closer to violating you.

Your eyes widen when he easily removes his sweatpants and underwear at the same time, hardened cock springing out. You lick your lips, but the show must go on.

“Please don’t.” You cry out, attempting to hide yourself.

Jimin slaps you - it stings your face just as you were sure it did for him when you had. He continues to slap you a few more times on the same cheek until it’s red and throbbing, your tears burning your cheek when it falls.

Jimin grasps the length of his cock and inches closer to you. He was going to fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but even then he wouldn’t.

You gasp when you felt Jimin’s cock enter you - he has the correct amount of girth to have you stunned.

Jimin cannot stop the deep groan that comes from his throat. He should make sure you’re alright - this was nothing but a fantasy. This wasn’t him. He was a good man; but he doesn’t want to stop. He fucks into you at a rough pace, savage like. The sounds of your sweet pussy gushing for him, mixed with your cries and pleads for him to stop (and the echoes of skin slapping) was music to his ears. No porn he’s ever watched could ever compare to this moment right now.

“Please stop!” You plead - but you don’t want him to. You were doing what he paid you to do, but you clench around his cock. “Please don’t do this Jimin-ssi.”

“Shut up.” Jimin hisses, it prompts him to slap you across your face again; this time him spitting directly on you. “You���re nothing but a dirty whore who’s going to take what I give her.”

Jimin was never one to cum quickly - yet this was a dream come true to him. If he could be here with you all night and violate you, he would.

“I should breed you.” Jimin taunts, voice raspy that it sends you over the edge. You’re creaming around him, but still continue your waterworks.

“No!” You shake your head roughly. You were on birth control - he could cum inside of you if he truly wished. “Please-“

“Get you nice and pregnant like a whore likes.” Jimin’s fingernails dig into your thighs, thrust sloppy. “To show everyone who you belong to.”

“I’m not yours.” You hiss, hands slapping his chest as hard as you could.

“But you are.” Jimin removes his hand from your thigh to squeeze your throat. His thrusts are powerful and he’s cumming - inside of you as you continue to cry. He’s breathing hard, his vision blurring at the sensation; the thought of violating a bitch like you and impregnating her sends him over the edge.

Jimin falls to his knee’s when he shoves the doors open. The cool air greets him, but the soothing feeling doesn’t last long. He releases everything in his stomach onto the ground below him.

“Jimin…”

“Hyung,” Jimin gags, shaking his head. “…go away.”

“What’s going on, Jimin-ah?” Seokjin sounds concerned, startled to see his dongsaeng in such distress that it caused him to vomit. “This blogger Creep….”

“Hyung, please.” Jimin pleads. His head is pounding. His career would surely be over soon - his respect along with it. “I-I can’t.”

Jin swallows. Creep was far worse than any other blogger - they ruined the lives of countless idols for their own entertainment. Authorities don’t appear to care and whoever runs the creep blog had to be loaded - no idol has come close to paying them off.

“Is it true?” Jin murmurs after a few moments of silence. His eyes roam around the quiet street - paparazzi weren’t allowed (by law) in this area, however Creep appeared to be above the law.

“Hyung…”

“I’m not judging you, Jimin-ah. I’ll never do that.” Jin places a hand on Jimin’s back, kneeling down beside him.

Jimin releases a few short sobs but nods his head. He was humiliated - his peers wouldn’t look at him the same. He would go from respected to disgusted and despised - his fetish was looked down upon. It was sickening and the audio proof was more than enough to prove that it was him.

Jimin recalls the first time he was involved with the Blog known as simply Creep.

It was a few months after his first time with you. You and he saw one another every weekend - until it became more frequent. He couldn’t allow himself to be caught in a dating scandal, so you were only ever at his home, yet neither of you cared. You two would fuck disgustingly - him violating you (consensually) while you begged and cried for him to stop - and he never did unless he heard the safe word.

Jimin grew comfortable in his sexual fantasy. It was easier to relieve himself and the pent-up frustration when you were around. You never said the safe word and after it was all done, you and he talked. He assured you were safe while he got into the moment, and you insisted you were - even enjoyed it a great deal. Jimin would offer you food and drinks before you left - sometimes you would stay over. It began when Jimin insisted he would pay you extra to spend the night with him; you insisted he didn’t need to (but he did).

Jimin recalls the way his phone went off nonstop with notifications and waking him up from his nap. He was guilty to following the blog Creep, but he never would have thought he would be the trending topic of it.

Jimin’s heart stops for a mere second, eyes wide. He takes a few deep breaths to process everything. There wasn’t a picture attached to you entering his building - that was a good sign. However, creep was notorious at dropping little hints here and there before the big reveal - and that frightened him. If they knew about you, what else did they know?

As if clockwork, Jimin’s phone sounds again with a call from his lawyer. He answers it and places it upon his ear.

“They don’t know anything.” His lawyer assures, but the tone in his voice isn’t convincing. “Y/N has signed countless contracts and her going against them would be costly.”

Jimin takes a deep breath and nods. He knew it wasn’t you nor did he ever expect you had anything to do with it.

“Creep is nothing but an attention seeker, after all.” His lawyers snicker. “They and countless other blogs have been doing every and anything to get Bangtan involved in a scandal.”

That was true - his hyungs and him were by no means as squeaky clean as the public thought; but they weren’t bad people, either. They deserved privacy like other idols did - most scandals weren’t even scandalous. Idols had sex - if they were consensual what was the problem? Idols dated, they drank, smoked - lived.

Jimin understood that he was told strictly by his Lawyer to not engage; to ignore it. But he couldn’t. By the comments, most didn’t believe the Blogger and that only frightened him into a state of paranoia. If they didn’t believe Creep - then that only meant that Creep would give them something to believe in due time.

Jimin takes a deep breath and opens the email sent to him directly from Creep - the email responding to his own.

Creep: Park Jimin, what a pleasure for you to reach out to me! A big fan of your work if I do say so myself. I frequent your father’s cafe and I would have to say it’s worth the hype! But we’re not here to chit chat, aren’t we? You asked what I knew about your little…situation? You know a Creep like me has eyes and ears everywhere. How about this…I’ll show you a little snippet of my next post!

The attachment sent with the email makes him sick. It detailed everything that went on with you - about his fantasy and how he paid you to relive it with him. How Creep knew was beyond him, but now all Jimin could feel was sadness, confusion and disgust with himself and how he allowed himself to be in this position.

Jimin feels his hands shaking as he reads the text on his phone over and over until it’s permanently scarred into his brain. The notification popping onto his screen breaks the trance he was in - it was from Creep.

Creep: It’s been an hour…

Has it been that long since Jimin had sat and stared at his phone?

Creep: I know Idols such as big as yourself have a reputation to hold up to, so I didn’t release it all. I can make this next post go away for a price.

Jimin gulps. He understood well enough that idols and actors never paid off Creep.

Creep: I don’t want or need your money. But to keep doing what the public loves, how about we trade information? I’ll sweep this under the rug if you give me juicy secrets on the next Idol…actor…political figure. Your choice. You have 3 hours. Tick Tock.

“How do you think this got out?” Jin asks Jimin. They both stood in the restroom now, secluded from everyone else.

Jimin spits out the water he rinsed his mouth with and shakes his head. He’s unsure himself.

“Maybe it was…Y/N?” Jin hesitantly suggests. You were a soft topic for Jimin - especially now.

“She wouldn’t.” Jimin denies. “She’s just as involved in this as I am, Hyung.” Jimin’s hands turn to first. He inhales and exhales slowly, attempting anything to bring his sudden anxiety to ease. “How do you think I got out of this the first time?”

Jin raises a brow.

Jimin glances at himself in the mirror, Jin’s eyes meeting his on.

“You never told me Creep has contacted you before.” Jin signs.

One thing Jimin wasn’t expecting was for you to be outside his door an hour after he received the email from Creep, while he paced back and forth and contemplated what to do, you appeared far too calm. He’s apologized one too many times for getting you involved, not giving you the chance to speak until you interrupted him.

“Creep contacted me.”

“What?” Jimin quip, halting yet another apology. “What did-“

“I had to give them information on someone if I wanted to help you.”

Jimin shakes his head. He didn’t want you involved with his mess. Sure, he had way more to lose than you did, but you were also a human being. You deserved just as much privacy as he did - people's words were vicious and if you were involved in this scandal with him, who knows what you’d have to endure.

Jimin’s phone vibrated once more, and he releases another sign. He checks it, eyes scanning the screen with a puzzled look.

“Y/N…”

“I would rather it be him than you.” You shrug your shoulders. “He doesn’t have much to lose. He’ll recover.”

“Ignore it.” Jin hisses.

Creep had contacted Jimin again via email once Jimin was done recanting the memory with Jin. Jimin’s eyes are staring at his phone, contemplating what he should do. 

“I’ve been ignoring it for months, hyung.” Jimin responds low. “My life is ruined.”

Jin takes a step forward, hand reaching out to support his friend. 

Jimin takes a step back with a shake of his head. “I want to be alone, hyung.” he says to Jin without taking his eyes off of his phone. “Please.”

Jin wants to fight back and refuse. Jimin was a good man with no scandals. One such as big as this would shock the nation, even if it was with a consenting adult. However, Jin doesn’t want to push his friend over the edge and only nods. 

Jimin opens the email sent by Creep and begins to read.

Creep: Ah, Park Jimin. How are you? Rape anyone lately?

Jimin's blood boils at the tone in which Creep is emailing. He’s trembling - with fear? Anger? Possibly a mix of both. He’s trained for years to debut alongside his members. He worked hard for years on end to establish a career in the entertainment business just for it to be wiped away in a matter of seconds.

Jimin: Why did you do this to me?

Jimin awaits for an email in response, constantly refreshing his notifications to see it. When he does, he’s quick to open the email and read.

Creep: Why not? What makes Park Jimin special from gossip? I got tired of sitting on juicy information and now…now your secret is out! To think all you had to do was be a man and save yourself but you’d rather have a woman save you.

Jimin’s throat clenched when Creep mentions you. His life was not the only one ruined in this equation. If word got out who the woman was, it would be a nightmare for you just as it would be for him, as well. 

You lean back into your computer seat and sigh. You wait for Jimin’s email to come and when it does, you cackle.

Jimin: Y/N has nothing to do with this. Leave her out of my mess. I’ll pay whatever you need for me to ensure that she doesn’t get involved with this.

Jimin was sweet. To think that he was willing to pay you - Creep - to make sure that you weren’t involved in this scandal. It’s sad to see the man that everyone admired go down such a path of destruction. However, you’d do anything for a story and Jimin was one that was too good to pass up.

You didn’t need money, you had enough of it. Instead, you enjoyed the torment. Watching these idols, actors and politicians scramble and make public apologies to right their wrongs was like a binge worthy tv show.

Your phone sounds suddenly and you hum when you see the name on it. Jimin was calling you.

You take a deep breath before answering the phone. Instantly, tears form into your eyes and you’re crying onto the phone. 

“I’m so sorry Jimin! I don’t know what’s-”

“I’m not mad at you, Y/N.” Jimin assures. His voice is low and you can tell the man is deep in thought. “I know you had nothing to do with this.”

You want to laugh. 

“I…I’m going to do anything in my power to make sure your name doesn’t get released to the public, alright?”

“Jimin…”

“This is my mess. I’ll get myself out of it.” Jimin sighs. “I’ll talk to you in a bit, okay?”

When Jimin hangs up the phone, you slam it onto your desk and groan. Why did Jimin have to be such a good guy - it only made you want him more.

“I’m sure I can ruin someone else's life and make the people forget about Jimin for now.” you hum, opening folders on your desktop with a small smile placed onto your lips.

#creep #jimin x reader #bts smut #trivia-yandere #bangtan smut #bangtanwriters net #bangtanwritershq #btswritersclub #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #park jimin #jimin #yandere bts #bts fic #idol bts #idol jimin

[bangtangalicious]

nexus (m) part 4

pairing: ot7 x f-reader | smut: jimin x reader, jungkook x reader

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest

summary: the murder of your best friend prompts you to team up with a vengeful detective to navigate a web of lies, betrayals and love. trust no one. people are never who they seem, and the most horrid one of all might just be the one you love most

characters: detective!jungkook, ex/bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime/mafia!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 8.8k

warnings: multiple & explicit smut scenes, proceed with caution. public sex, dirty dancing hehe, breast play, degradation kink, some hand stuff, fingering, dubious consent, somnophilia, rough sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, obsessive, possessive, manipulative behavior & themes, allusions to gambling addiction, implied stalking behavior, mentions of psychiatric facilities, implied sexual trauma, depiction of unethical therapy, physical violence (jk beats jimin up woo), slight slut shaming, gaslighting, alcohol use, partying, themes of social class resentment, but! also! love confessions! kissing! and! reunions! but lots of angst

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind @toughbook @mini-euphoria-deactivated202302 @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

“Taehyung” The name left your lips in a shudder. Shut eyes quivering, entrapping you in your nightmare.

Miles away, Taehyung stared out the window. The rolling hills hinting at a familiarity. His head ached, he felt nauseous as the vibrations of Jungkook’s car hit his core. He didn’t want to see you—not that anyone would understand. He remembered you vividly—remembered his own infatuation with you. You were a shining idol in his eyes. Someone who he looked at in awe, like he did his eldest brother.

Years locked away can change one’s perception.

Years left alone can brew resentment.

You never came for him. He was certain you didn’t even try.

A grin tugged at his lips.

The name uttered from your lips had Jimin’s eyes shooting open. Woken up from a dream—the dream where you and him were forever, and he wasn’t pretending. A world where you loved him—Park Jimin.

Your body lay curled into itself. He couldn’t help but touch you—fingers drawn to the curve of your back. Trailing down softly.  You were a troubled sleeper. He could see it in the way you flinched at his actions.

Pulling you into his warmth, he kissed the nape of your neck with a loving tenderness, ghosting up to your ear where he whispered your name sweetly.

Your name. The first words Seokjin ever said to him. He was the most complex patient he’d ever faced. One that brought meaning to his monotonous existence.

Jimin had been bored. Bored with his brilliant mind that allowed him to become a young doctor. Bored with his high profile patients who were all simply rotten with their first-world problems. He was losing his mind. Day in and day out—stuck within the four walls of his office. One brat in, another out.

Kim Seokjin was a special case. He had asked him simply—what’s on your mind?

You. You were on Jin’s mind.

It was tough to say if you had a leash on him, or he you. As Jin would ramble on about how he couldn’t rationalize his feelings for you, Jimin would bite back his smile, scribbling the word obsessed onto his notebook.

The irony.

It started as curiosity. Jimin had a reputation for being successful with all his patients, but it often required a hands on approach. In the corner of the casino, Jimin would observe you like an animal in the wild—you in your element. Throwing yourself at Jin’s elitist friends, while swindling them out of millions.

He watched you. Learned you. Studied you until he swore he could write a thesis.

And here you were.

Engaged. To be married. To be one.

Sighing deeply, he let his hand trail between your legs. Fingers prodding at your folds, smiling lazily at the way you’d twitch and shudder. Simply unphased. Deep in your sleep.

He let your wetness coat the sensitive pads of his fingers. Nose pressed against your neck, he inhaled, reveling in your scent as his fingers pushed in and out of your cunt.

The intrusion into your tight walls was slick. Yet you accepted him so well he simply had to add another. He still couldn’t believe he got to have you—got to cum inside you. Something he knew for a fact Jin never had the pleasure of doing.

Jin was an enigma and you were his doll. His plaything where he could easily manipulate your surroundings and puppet you without you realizing it. A fascinating man. Attached to you like a baby to a binkie. As if knowing you since birth gave him some right over your life.

Jin had cameras set up in your house, which he revealed in a delusional confession about how he was upset his younger brother had taken your virginity. Of course, Jimin already knew this. He hacked into them to watch you as well.

Jimin chuckled to himself. You were so naïve. Clueless. Didn’t know how badly you needed Jimin to save you. Jin was far more dangerous than Jimin could ever be.

Jimin was simply there to fill the hole in your heart. Ease the tension between your legs where he let his flushed tip prod. Cock heated with need, heavy with desire. He cursed, sliding his shaft through your folds slowly. Your body responding through subtle twitches. Cunt seeping at his touch.

His cock sunk inside you with ease, feeling you clench down violently at the intrusion. Your body shifting, coming alive, regaining consciousness, because here he was to save you from yourself. You knew not what forces bound you. Kept you from freedom. Jimin was here now. He would take care of everything, lest you worry your pretty little head.

He’d keep you safe. Away from the Kim brothers, away from the judgements of society. He would purify you. Wash out your sins with his cum, fuck you until you only knew pleasure in his name.

“Taehyung” Your lips parted, forehead furrowing as you realized your reality. He shushed you—you wouldn’t want to make him angry with that name, would you? Maybe one day he would tell you to call him Jimin. Under the guise of roleplay, or perhaps, if you had no escape.

“Good morning, princess” He could feel you shudder. He was so deep in your trenches you couldn’t move. Couldn’t run from him—his hands slipping over your breasts. Pinching at your nipples. He cooed at the warmth spreading to your cheeks. The way your eyes fluttered, euphoric in feeling. Wedging himself even further inside of you with a sharp thrust.

You yelped, a soft, gorgeous sound which he elicited with every move. Tight, rough—as he hooked your leg over his arm. The other wrapping generously around your neck. Your back arched against him, his teeth shadowing over your ear. Splashing into your waters, he rammed into you like a fever. Balls slapping against your ass, smacks echoing through the serene room. Tangled with the early morning sunrise.

He could easily lose himself in your sensation. How Jin time and time again passed up the chance, he knew not. The man had self-restraint, if nothing else. Your pussy squeezed the life out of him, making him want to give you everything he had and more. For what purpose was anything else? This is all he ever wanted—all he ever needed. Fucking into you just like this. He’d make you fall so in love you’d never want to leave. Exist pliant with his cock stuffing you as he pleased. His own princess. His virtue and his demise.

“Taehyung” Your voice muffled by lack of air. His hand so tight around your throat, constricting more when you uttered that damned name. “C-can’t breathe” You slapped his hand, as though signaling him to release you. Jimin chuckled, as if you had any say in this.

You were a puppet even before he came into your life. A puppet before he knew of your existence. Why should you ever be anything else? You didn’t know any better. Nevertheless he let you breathe, let you gasp for air because he wanted you to remember that he allowed it. He listened and he cared. Shoving you onto your stomach, he battered himself back onto you, ass cushioning his pistoning hips. You were a means to his end. He wanted to die buried inside you like this, so close to his edge his vision was red hot. The unsatisfying and addictive heat sprawling over his bare chest.

Teeth digging into his own lip, the best and worst sensation combined. He didn’t want the pleasure to stop, the tight, unwavering grip of your cunt as his cock hit you straight in your core. Over and over again, fusing your bodies together. Holding down your shoulders, keeping you in place as he pounded into you with fury.

He swore he’d never been so high in his life—no ecstasy could quite compare. The bed creaking underneath. The only sounds of your bodies clashing, your lips gasping and him—groaning deep as his cock twitched inside you. Swelling before everything snapped at once. Dozed over, cum spilling hot inside of you. He collapsed onto your back, spent for all his worth. Keeping himself nested in you even while he kissed your cheeks.

You slipped away from him, limp cock falling out as you reached for a robe. He admired the brief glimpse of his cum, sticky between your thighs.

“You awoke a beast in me” Jimin chuckled shyly, resuming his act as the whipped Kim Taehyung. “Couldn’t even help myself”

Jungkook gripped the wheel of his car with a ferocity that had his knuckles turning white. The tension in the car thick. In the rearview mirror he could see him. Kim Taehyung. The root cause of all the shit he’d ever faced. The rat that sold out his father and got him killed.

He could never forget. Never forget the eyes that watched in horror as his father was shot by an animal. Jungkook so badly wanted to blame him. To let out his anger and get his revenge on this bastard—but he couldn’t.

For your sake.

You were the centerpiece now. Caught in a web of whose design—Jungkook was still trying to figure out. Internally he battled his opportunity to avenge his father, with his duty to you as a Detective. You fucking little brat who he loathed and yet had an inexiplicable desire to shield you from all harm.

His foot lowered on the gas. Who knows what you were doing with this Park Jimin creep. Miles whizzed past as he sped up. What if you were hurt—what if he—

The Kim mansion was in sight. Jungkook parked the car, turning to face Taehyung with skepticism in his eyes. The boy had barely uttered a word in the car.

“Jimin could be armed and dangerous” Jungkook swallowed thickly, “I’ll go in first just to make sure, and I will bring Y/n to you. You guys wait here”

Taehyung looked down at his hands. He was playing with something in his palms. Finally looking up, Jungkook was taken aback.

The look in his eyes was dark. Almost terrifying.

He said nothing. After getting an uncertain nod from Yoongi, Jungkook stepped out. Making his way to the side entrance, hand glazed over the gun sheathed by his side. With a light nudge, the door opened—he stepped inside, muddy shoes staining the crystal clean marbled floor.

Silently, he slipped through the halls of the maze-like home. He could hear something—following the echoes into the kitchen. You were there. Alone. Bent over the sink while the microwave hummed behind you.

You were choking out. Gagging as if you would throw up. Only a flimsy silk robe holding you together.

Jungkook’s gut twisted.

You didn’t.

He couldn’t afford to scare you in the state you were in. If you screamed, Jimin would know he was here. Quietly, he treaded towards you, nearing until he was close enough to lick the sweat beading on the hollow of your neck.

In a swift movement, his fingers covered your mouth. You jumped in shock, eyes wide. “It’s me” Jungkook assured you as you writhed in his hold. He repeated himself until it sunk in, whispering “It’s just me. Don’t scream”

Backing away from him, you wiped your mouth on your sleeve.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered angrily.

Jungkook’s eyes dropped to the cleavage of your robe, splitting open more than you likely meant it to. The round edges of your breast vulnerable to his sight. Flustered, you tightened it around your body, ignoring the dark flash in his eyes.

Jungkook’s eyes still steady on your chest before snapping back to reality. He looked at you, serious, “Are you alright?” He glanced towards the sink which was empty. “Sick?”

You shrugged, brushing off his concern. “Why the fuck are you here, Jungkook?”

 “Did you fuck him?” You made a face. Sighing, Jungkook explained. “He’s not Kim Taehyung. He’s an imposter”

“Oh I know”

Jungkook’s lips pursed. “You know?”

Chuckling lightly, your head turned as the microwave began to beep. Grabbing what seemed to be a muffin, you casually took a bite. Jungkook squinted as your teeth sunk into the pastry, crumbs dotting the edge of your lips.

“Sure. Taehyung had a mole, it wasn’t there. This guy has the tattoo—Taehyung wasn’t there when they got it. And he won’t answer any questions about where he’s been.” You spoke while chewing, “You know but the way I knew for sure was when he began fucking me while I was asleep”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed.

“What?” He searched your eyes. Is that why you were—he looked again towards the sink.

“Yeah” Your voice was curt. He seriously questioned if you were hurting more than you let on “Maybe you and I should try it sometime. Kinda hot”

Jungkook huffed, “That’s not—”

“What?” You grinned at him, batting your eyelashes. Moving in closer as your finger hooked into the collar of his shirt, tugging playfully “You don’t wanna? Me lying all helpless while you ram your big fucking cock in,”

“Y/n” Jungkook’s voice raised sternly as he pushed your hand away.

“That’s what all you guys want anyway, to bend me over like a little brainless cocksleeve” You tossed the half of your muffin into the trash with a tantrum-like attitude.

“Tell me where he is” Jungkook heard you, took note of the subtle bitterness in your tone and to talk to you about it later, but focused on the task at hand. “He might be Jin’s killer”

You nodded, gulping down your bite. “He’s upstairs, follow me”

You led Jungkook through the halls, up the grand winding staircase of the foyer. A large, glimmering chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling. So much excess wherever Jungkook looked.

This was normal for you—this was your status quo. Your silk robes and ignorance. You slept with a man who could have killed your best friend—knowingly. Jungkook tried his hardest yet he swore he couldn’t understand a thing about you.

And he’d never care to admit just how much of his headspace you consumed.

If Jimin had hurt you.

If he had taken advantage of you in someway.

Jungkook’s fists tightened.

Opening the double doors to what he could only assume to be your bedroom, Jimin sat on the bed, waiting expectantly.

“Park Jimin, you’re under arrest under suspicion for the murder of Kim Seokjin” Jungkook slid past you quickly before Jimin could try to escape. He didn’t move, allowing Jungkook to handcuff him without resistance. He simply stared at you, amusement in his eyes.

“Murder?” Jimin tilted his head, grinning “I didn’t murder him baby”

“Why would I believe a fucking word you say?” You spat at him. Jungkook watched as your eyes flashed with rage. “You lied to me. You pretended to be my Taehyung”

“You’re gonna regret this” His smile didn’t waver. “You’re gonna wish you played along like the good little doll you are. What, you think this is good for you? Oh baby, you just wait. Put me behind bars and you see what hell is going to come knocking at your door. Who’s going to look out for you hm? This fucker?” He nodded in Jungkook’s direction.

Jungkook ignored him, calling on his radio for backup. Pulling Jimin to stand, he dragged him out the door. Jimin dug his heels in, slowing him down.

He laughed, a dark sinister cackle. “I’m the only one who cares about you Y/n. You think Jeon Jungkook is going to help you—please,” Jungkook shot him a glare, “You don’t know what I know”

“That’s enough” Jungkook roughly pushed him forward. Suddenly he heard something shatter.

You had thrown a vase in Jimin’s direction.

“You crazy prick” Your teeth were gritting. As though this were your last straw, letting down the series of dominos do drive you over the edge. “I’m not a doll—I don’t need anyone, least of all a fucking psycho like you!”

“You love it baby” Jimin taunted, “You think Jin is any better? He allowed it, princess. This was all his doing. I was perfectly content watching the footage he’d send me of the cameras he set up in your room—”

You lunged towards him, but Jungkook stepped in your path. Hands gripping your waist, holding you back. Touch gentle, but firm.

“Y/n” Jungkook whispered, “Easy”

“Let me fucking at him. I’ll show him”

“I know” Jungkook stood, pushing back as you tried to resist him, “Let me take him in okay. He’s gonna get what he deserves. Go grab something to wear” Jungkook urged, “Meet me downstairs, yeah?”

You frowned slightly, before ultimately agreeing. Jungkook exhaled, turning back to a thoroughly entertained Jimin. He swung a punch straight into his gut, causing Jimin to buckle over. Immediately then grabbing his neck, choking him as he lifted him onto his toes.

“That’s for Y/n” Jungkook hissed, “Psycho” Jimin squirmed in his hold, but Jungkook simply tightened his fingers. Jimin’s smile grew.

“As if you wouldn’t have done the same, Detective. Like father like son”

Jungkook tossed him across the room. Crashing into the wall, Jimin let out a pained grunt. The officers had arrived. He left Jimin on the floor, knowing he’d have nowhere to run.

Downstairs you waited, a baggy shirt and sweats which likely belonged to one of the brothers. Jungkook was reminded suddenly of who was waiting in his car. Police officers rushed passed him, grabbing Jimin and escorting him out. Jungkook took you and followed, watching as they drove off with him, twisted smile steady throughout it all.

“You good?” Jungkook asked again, voice barely above a whisper. His fingers brushing against your palm as if to nudge you. The sirens screamed loud in the distance. From the corner of his eye, he could see you take a deep breath.

He hated that he noticed. The way you fought to stay afloat through it all. He much preferred his own cowardly ignorance, where you were not someone he’d destroy in his quest, but rather righteous, deserving collateral.

Reality kicked in. Taehyung was waiting to see you in the car. He wondered if maybe throwing that on you now in the state you were would be unwise.

Maybe he just didn’t want you to meet Taehyung. He wanted to talk to you. Ask about what you said before, make sure you were really alright.

Unfortunately for him, the choice was robbed.

“Namjoon?”

The look in your eyes made Namjoon’s heart crumble. You looked so hurt. So betrayed.

Namjoon looked between you at the man by your side—vaguely familiar. He glanced as his badge to see Detective Jeon roughly inscribed.

“Bold of you to show up here” The detective muttered; arms crossed over his chest.

“Hobi said you called so I came”

It was a poor excuse. Just like when his mother died, again he had ignored your needs. Disappearing wordlessly, abandoning you when you needed him most. Left you to face your grief, the pain from Jin’s death which was no doubt hitting you the hardest of all.

How could he ever explain himself? Justify himself or earn back your trust? He was never blind to your affection, but simply possessed by a battle more prominent at the time. A battle with his brother which in hindsight felt pointless. The demands of the company consumed his every waking moment.

You said nothing. Simply stared at him in shock. He longed to reach out, to hold you, and offer a shoulder to lean on. Doubt held him back.

“Are you okay? The cops outside told me what happened. About the imposter.”

Still nothing.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know, I hadn’t seen him since—”

“You killed Jin”

Your voice boomed. Echoed through the grand walls of the foyer. Seething with anger, your jaw clenched. Tears brimming at the edges of your red eyes.

The words stung. Stung because he couldn’t say you were wrong. Because you could be saying fact—and Namjoon didn’t know if he killed his brother or not.

“Y/n please”

He didn’t want to lie to you—perhaps it wasn’t lying until the trust was discovered.

“You killed him and I loved him”

Perhaps those words stung even more.

Namjoon reached for your hands. “I need you to know that I never wanted you to marry Taehyung. I never wanted to force you to do anything. You deserve to live your own life”

He fell to his knees, keeping your palms in his. Not knowing how else to beg for your forgiveness.

“I got so drunk the night he was killed. The night before your engagement because—fuck Y/n, I didn’t want to do this to you. I didn’t know how bad things were, I was so blind—I wish I could go back. Fight for you”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t kill him Namjoon”

Namjoon swallowed tickly, diverting his eyes.

“Tell me the fucking truth”

He kissed your hand softly. He didn’t want to hurt you any more than he already had. But perhaps it was that mentality alone that was his biggest betrayal. His family’s biggest betrayal to you—lying. Lying under the guise of your protection when all it did was dig you a deeper grave.

“I-I don’t know” He confessed, giving in. This was how it had to be. This was the only way he could even hope to repair his relationship with you. Glancing briefly at the detective, he continued “Maybe”

He stood up, “Can we go somewhere quiet and talk, please?”

“Actually um—” Jungkook interrupted, only for Namjoon to shoot him a glare.

“Don’t you have a fucking criminal to interrogate? We’re obviously pressing charges. Go to your job—I don’t pay so much fucking tax so you can harass me and my—”

He bit his tongue.

“Fine” You broke the pause. “Let’s go talk.” Turning to the detective, you gave him a reassuring nod.

“Well can you please come to the station after?”

“She’ll come when she’s ready” Namjoon snapped. The detective rolled his eyes.

Namjoon took your hand in his again, leading you upstairs. Into your room. Noticing the messy sheets. The remnants of your clothes thrown around the room. His jaw hardened.

“You slept with him” Namjoon rationalized. “The imposter”

“Yeah, and?” Huffing, you leaned against the window. “I already feel shitty enough about it so don’t you run your mouth at me”

“No I—” He moved closer to you, searching your face. Your eyes mixed with vulnerability and resilience. You were tough, he knew that. He saw that so clearly even through the years he dismissed you. “Come here”

He pulled you into his chest, hand cradling the back of your head. He hugged you—he couldn’t remember the last time he had. Probably over a decade ago. He didn’t deserve to hold you, he knew it deep down. But whatever little he could offer you now, he would do it. He would do anything for you.

“I’m so sorry” He mumbled into the top of your head. “I won’t abandon you again, I promise”

He could feel your shoulders relax, your arms wrapping around his torso.

“This is your fault” You sobbed, “Everything is your fault Joonie”

“I know” He kissed your forehead, gazing into your teary eyes. His palm cupping your face, thumb wiping away your tears. His heart twisting in his chest.

Seconds passed so incredibly slow, yet too fast for him to think.

“I love you” His eyes widened as the words left his mouth. You blinked at him in confusion.

“W-what?”

“I know you hate me, and you have every right to. But I—I love you Y/n. I always have. Jin looming over my shoulder all my life just made me not realize it”

“Are you fucking kidding me Joonie? I always wanted you” You stared at him in disbelief. “You—you used me. I still have trouble opening my heart to anyone because of what you did to me—and now you’re saying you love me??”

“I know. Okay. I know what I did and I regret it every single day. I just hated Jin so much. More than I loved you, and now that Jin’s gone I can finally let myself feel it”

“You’re the fucking reason that I was engaged to Taehyung! I had a choice—I chose you”

Namjoon blinked. “Huh?”

“Yeah and you asked me if I loved Jin and I said I didn’t, so you told your mother to set me up with Taehyung”

“That’s not what happened”

“The fuck you mean it’s not what happened Joon? I clearly remember—”

“Y/n” Namjoon held your shoulders tightly, “I didn’t even know they asked you. Jin just told me one day. I swear”

You receded in silence.

“I’m pretty sure Jin was the one who decided too. Did you know, mom never left the company for him? He tricked me. Made me promise to see your engagement through and give him Nexus shares in exchange for the casinos”

You gulped, quiet for a moment to process before speaking: “He was also apparently seeing someone. A serious relationship”

“Yeah” Namjoon gulped. He had a pretty decent idea who it was, but didn’t want to tell you anything he didn’t know for sure. He’d put you through enough today. “I heard”

You gulped. Staring into his eyes. Until your eyes dropped to his lips. Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat. Rhythm rushing the blood in his veins.

“Namjoon—” You looked away, but Namjoon held your chin steady with his finger. Tilting your face up to his.

“I love you” He repeated. “I’m here now, nothing will happen to you. No one can hurt you anymore. Not even him”

He leaned in just a tad. Pausing to ensure you wanted this. He wouldn’t push you. Wouldn’t manipulate you ever again.

“Don’t”

A man’s voice came from the door.

“Please—don’t”

Jungkook rushed back to the car. Taehyung and Yoongi were clearly in the middle of some sort of intense discussion.

“Where is she?” Yoongi asked, looking around. He squinted at Namjoon’s car. “Wait—is that—”

“Yeah” Jungkook exhaled, turning on the engine, “Namjoon is back” He looked to Taehyung, “You can go in if you want, but we already arrested Jimin”

Taehyung remained still. Silent. Only the sound of his shaky breath until finally his eyes rose to meet Jungkook’s.

“Yeah” Jungkook glanced at Yoongi who shrugged. “I’ll go in”

“Do you want me to come with you Taehyung?” Yoongi reached out to him. Taehyung shook his head.

“Thanks Yoongi hyung. I should be fine. They’re family”

“Tell Y/n to call me when she can okay” Yoongi called out as Taehyung exited the car. Jungkook peered at him, an uneasy feeling in his gut. Alas he had more pressing issues at the moment. He rushed back to the station.

Jimin was locked in a cell when he arrived. Grinning wide. Infuriating Jungkook.

“You father would be so disappointed in you, interfering with the fall of the Kim’s” Jimin taunted from behind bars.

“You don’t know my father” He hissed under his breath.

“I was Kim Seokjin’s therapist—I know quite a bit about your father” Jimin walked up to the bars, pressing his face in between them. “And that he deserved to die”

“Enough” Jungkook snapped, his voice dropping low. “I have a few questions, and then I’m leaving you here to rot, got it?”

Jimin clicked his tongue in amusement. “Go ahead then. Ask me what you really want to know” He grinned wide, “Like how tight Y/n’s little cunt was”

Jungkook’s fist slammed against the pole. “Haven’t I beat you enough for today? Or are you a freak who likes it?”

“You like it too I bet. Beating people. Your dad sure did”

“Say one more thing about my dad” Jungkook hissed. Jimin pursed his lips in amusement.

“Am I in here because of impersonation? Because I didn’t commit any fraud, technically. Lying isn’t a crime”

“You’re a person of interest in the murder of Kim Seokjin”

Jimin giggled, “God, you’re all fucking idiots. I didn’t kill Seokjin. I was his doctor. And you can’t ask me about him because that information is protected by law”

“I can, since he’s fucking dead, and whatever he confessed in therapy might help us find out what happened”

“How long are you going to pretend, Jeon Jungkook?” Jimin asked, “How long are you going to act like this wasn’t all you?”

“Please—don’t”

Both you and Namjoon turned towards the voice. Namjoon’s lips parted in shock, while you stood—frozen in time.

Curly black hair. Eyes that glimmered so uniquely they made you want to stare at them for hours. Soft, thin lips. Pretty lashes. The resemblance was uncanny.

Pain seared through your chest.

“Taehyung?” Namjoon’s voice shattered your flashback. “Is that really you?”

He nodded, turning to his brother. Namjoon hesitated, before awkwardly opening his arms to embrace him. Taehyung melted into him—a boy reunited with his brother. It was a heartwarming sight.

“My god, Tae” Namjoon muttered, “Where the hell have you been?”

He turned back towards you. You were still too stunned to speak. His eyes scanned you up and down—in a way that made you feel like he could see through you. Straight to your bones.

“Hi” His eyes softened, but his face remained still. “Remember me?”

He must have spoken, but you couldn’t hear anything but your heart hammering in your ears. Panic flooding your veins. Your head feeling light—dizzy. Everything shifted, everything blurred.

"Are you scared of me, princess?"

There it was. The nickname. You stiffened as he leaned forward, fingers trailing up your jaw until he held your cheek in his palm. Held you gaze in his own, eyes drifting with mystery. His voice was so incredibly soft. Sweet even. Contrasting the ever so slightly amused glint in his eye.

You exhaled, heart throbbing through your ribs, almost to the point of suffocation.

"Hyung," Taehyung shifted to look at Namjoon who was watching the scene unfold intently, lips pursed in worry. Truth be told, he had been shocked at the intimate moment he almost walked in on. He never recalled Namjoon having any affection for you—or anyone for that matter. “Can we have a minute?”

"Yeah, of course. I’ll be in my room" Namjoon stood up slowly, looking to you for some sort of affirmation that it was okay to leave. You sent him a slight nod, to which his shoulders relaxed.

Ten years. Shocking nightmares every single night. Screaming to you, if maybe you might look back. If you might spare him a second glance and save him.

Taehyung was no idiot. He wasn’t oblivious to soft glances of attraction between you and Jin, speaking through nothing but the shy glimmer in your eyes.

Year after year passed, and he wondered if you’d care enough to find him. Wondered if you’d dare to question the actions of his brother—you didn’t.

And his resentment grew like a tumor in his soul.

You stood, a ghost from the past—a figment of this twisted reality. And Taehyung could finally drink you in. Your eyes were filled with a dead numbness. There used to be a light in there.

You were his princess. He was the first to say it, the first to think it, and as far as he was concerned the only one who truly had the right to call you it.

But where were you during his darkest days?

Your features softened, a mix of recognition and affection filling your gaze.

Taehyung didn’t know when he moved. Who moved first. The whole moment was a timeless blur. Wrapping his arms around you, the storm seemed to fade. All the years of separation melting away, resentment and distrust fading to dust, leaving only the warmth of your embrace.

He didn't want to hold you too tightly and yet, he couldn't bring himself to let go. Truth be told, Taehyung had never been more afraid in his entire life. Afraid of you. Afraid of his feelings for you.

Afraid of the ability you had to drive him completely and utterly insane.

“Are you real?” You looked into his eyes. “Fuck, Taehyung, I missed you so much”

Stepping away, he regarded you. Looking you up and down before his jaw hardened. The dark spells of his mind knocking on the forefront.

“You missed me?” He scoffed, tongue rolling in his cheek as he cocked his head. “You could have tried to find me, Y/n”

“Taehyung I—” His heart leapt when his name left your lips. “I don’t—I don’t even know why they sent you away”

“Did you try and find out?”

You gave him a guilty look. Reaching out for him but he flinched at your touch. “I thought about you all the time”

“Answer me” He snapped. You gulped.

“Well, Jin—”

“Don’t say his name to me” Taehyung hissed, “He did this to me, do you even know that Y/n?”

“I can’t” You shook your head rapidly, tears spilling from your eyes. Taehyung felt queasy at the sight, “I can’t deal with this. Why can’t you be happy to see me?”

“I spent ten years. Ten fucking years locked in psychiatric facilities, Y/n” He gripped your shoulders, “You were here, playing princess in my house—don’t tell me how I should fucking feel”

“I didn’t know” You pleaded, reaching for his face, “Taehyung I swear to you, I didn’t know”

“My mom is dead” He exhaled, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I didn’t even know about it—no one even fucking told me. And hyung too”

“Taehyung” You ran your fingers through his hair. He couldn’t help but croon into your touch. Muscles relaxing under the sweet sensation. “I’m so sorry”

He let his eyes flutter shut, you rested your head on his chest. He was taller than you. His hands holding your waist steady. Forehead resting against yours as tears began to drip down his face.

“I want to know everything” You spoke in hushed tones. Your voice soft, like music to his ears. He could feel your breath on his lips. “I want to make up for the time we lost, okay, I promise you”

He nodded lightly, sniffling.

“You’re so handsome, Tae” There was pride in your voice that brought a shy smile to his face. “Look at you, all grown up” He chuckled, wiping his tears away. He looked at you again, sighing deeply before resting his head back on your shoulder.

You pressed your lips to Taehyung’s cheek before stepping away from him. He gasped for air, the walls closing around him suddenly at the loss of your touch.

“Listen, I need to go to the station to give my report. I’ll be back soon, okay?” He watched, again you were leaving him. Without looking back.

He almost believed you.

Almost.

It was a lie.

A pathetic lie, but you couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing Taehyung—the real Taehyung, made it all too real.

Can we not meet at the station?

You sent the message—not knowing if Jungkook would respond.

Could use a drink. Meet me here—he sent an address. Tucked away in the inner city where no one would recognize you. None of Jin’s lackeys, or your mother’s goons. It was hardly your kind of crowd. You were surprised—pleasantly even. Jeon Jungkook didn’t come across as someone who liked to party.

“Hey” He showed. No longer in his stupid leather jacket, he looked different, simply in a white t-shirt. Chain on his neck. Hair haphazard, rather than the slick back he wore to work. “You good?”

Jungkook orders two shots at the bar, sliding one to you as you settle into the barstool next to him. Remembering the last time the two of you were like this. The first day you met.

You clink your glass against his before downing the bitter liquid. You watch Jungkook’s face scrunch with distaste, followed by a smile.

You avoid his question, asking him instead: “Did you talk to Jimin?”

Jungkook nodded, “First, I want to talk to you about this morning” He placed his elbows on the bartop, leaning forward slightly. His voice lowered, “We were in a rush, but I want to hear what you were trying to say”

You scoffed.

“Did he hurt you, Y/n?” You glared at him. “You said he fucked you in your sleep…”

You exhaled slowly, “Honestly I wouldn’t mind what he did, if we had discussed it first. But in my gut I just knew, Taehyung—would never violate me like that” Your fingers curled into your palm, “He was so rough. So insane. I just” You shook your head, disgusted by the bought of pity in Jungkook’s eyes. “I’ve grown up with men like that”

He nodded, absorbing every word.

“Wanna dance?”

You looked at him skeptically.

“Detective Jeon Jungkook dances?”

He gave you a sly wink before grabbing your wrist. With a tight pull, he leads you into the crowd. Locking his eyes with yours, everything else fading to dark as his magnetic pull drew you in.

You tried to focus on the music. The familiar feeling of a loud bass, a crowd of people and booze. Even still, intrusive thoughts knocked at your mind—Namjoon was home, Taehyung was home.

Taehyung resented you. Taehyung blamed you.

“Look at me” Jungkook leaned into you, hands ghosting over your hips as they began to sway to the pulsating beat. “Don’t think about them. Only look at me”

His eyes flickered with a softness. A pain which he also was trying so desperately to escape. You reckoned that Jungkook might have been a kind, fun loving person if not for the trauma the Kim’s put him through by killing his father. Instead he was trapped in the same web as you.

Your hands slid around his neck, loosely as your fingers weaved through his hair. He guided you, shielded you from onlookers. His eyes on you and nothing else. Transfixed to you like a curse.

It was ironic. Dangerous even. Everything about Jungkook made you distrust him. And you had no doubt he didn’t trust you either. Within the walls the two of you built, you had somehow grown closer. You couldn’t even pinpoint when. Somewhere along the way you began to see him clearly, or let him see you.

His touch is tender as he pulls your ass in, pressing your chest up against him so he can grind into you. His bulge gratifying, easing the tension throbbing between your legs. Stroking your ego, making you feel desired without the ugly aftertaste that often came with it. His large hands feel so good on you, you never want him to let go.

Your eyes flutter shut, surrendering completely to him. He turns you around so he can trace your neck with his nose. His fingers light fires across your sides, and you want to feel more but he doesn’t push it.

He stops suddenly, gazing at you with the colors of the flashing lights reflecting through his wide doe eyes. A glow on his face that you weren’t sure was real, or if it was simply the tone of his stare.

He looked as though he wanted to say something. And you desperately wanted to hear him. His mouth opened slightly, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips.

The space between you vanishing.

Inch by inch.

Until you swore you could taste him.

Your phone vibrated suddenly. Jungkook flinched, stepping back. With a guilty look, you excused yourself, slipping into a quiet corner of the club.

“Mazel tov” The snarky voice echoed through, “The prodigal son returns”

“Where the fuck have you been?” You snapped. “How could you let this happen? How did you not know?”

“Relax darling, I’ve been caught up entertaining your lover boy. Glad to finally have him out of my hair, truly. He’s bad for my cortisol”

“Well did you get a confession?”

“He doesn’t remember. Which is good for us. I can easily plant evidence for your Detective”

“Good. Do it soon. Jungkook wants the murderer to be Namjoon so it’s likely he will believe anything he gets. Not sure what to do about this Park Jimin fellow”

“Well darling, like I said last time. You say the word, and I’ll clean up your mess”

Rolling your eyes, you hung up the phone. Turning back around, Jungkook stood where you left him, bewildered.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed past the sea of dancers. You didn’t know why—you didn’t care. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than that Jungkook’s hands all over you. His lips on yours. You wanted his snarky little comments, his profound advice. To learn his every scar. Every crevice. And show him yours. You wanted to run away with him and never look back.

“Kiss me Jeon Jungkook” You hooked his shirt, dragging his face down to yours. Catching his lips in a desperate kiss.

The heat was overwhelming. Shamelessly, you kissed him in the middle of the crowd. Music numbing out into the sounds of two pounding hearts. His hands finding the small of your back.

You’d kissed him before but this was different. Even in the fire of the moment, you could feel how much he wanted you. How much he craved your lips, just like you craved his. He was water, and you were dying of thirst. He was air, and you were drowning.

He cupped your face, deepening the kiss as he pulled you impossibly closer. Finding breaths through your parted lips, you dared not pull away.

“Car” He breathed into your mouth. Voice raspy, feverish.

Grabbing his wrist, you led him out of the club. The fresh outdoor air hitting you with a sharp coldness. Loss of the bodies around you.

Jungkook slammed you against the hood of his car, pinning you down before sucking into your neck. You moaned loudly, his thigh slotting between your legs giving you barely any friction. You bucked your hips desperately as his lips moved down.

You were still wearing Namjoon’s clothes. Jungkook hissed, grabbing the hem of the hoodie and yanking it off of you. There was nothing underneath. Your nipples hardening in the cold as Jungkook smirked, rolling his thumb over one. Watching you writhe and twitch under him.

“You’re so fucking hot” He hissed, latching his teeth onto your tit and sucking lightly. Tongue darting out, flicking the sensitive flesh as your back arched. Looking down at him, as much as you wanted to look away. The pleasure unbearable.

He moved onto the other breast, taking his time as if the two of you weren’t in public. As if someone couldn’t just walk up and see how Jungkook shamelessly sucked your tits. Pulling away, you could see a string of drool land on your chest as he smacked his lips.

“Tell me what you want” He ordered, fingers gripping around your neck. Not tight enough to impact your breathing, but enough to make sure you knew who was in charge.

You were speechless. Irritated, Jungkook slid his thumb into your mouth and watched you suck it obscenely.

“What do you want, Y/n?” He asked again, replacing his thumb with his tongue, tangling it with yours into another kiss.

“You” You gasped, loving the weight of his strong body on yours. “I want you, Jungkook”

You could feel his lips curve into a grin. “For the record” He whispered, teeth grazing your lips, tugging at them. “I still hate you”

You nodded. Awestruck as he pulled his cock out, not letting you look anywhere but his eyes.

“I hate how entitled you are” He tugged your sweats down to press his heavy tip against your clit, “I hate how you’re so bratty”

He pressed his cock in, sliding into your folds just a bit. “Full of fucking attitude, think you’re fucking invincible.”

You gulped, recalling Taehyung’s similar words.

“I hate all these men in your life. You’re complicated. You’re messy. You’re manipulative, and I can see it” With every word he pressed in a little more until he bottomed out. Hissing sharply, he met your eyes again. “Playing victim, but you’re just as bad as the rest of them”

“So why the fuck” His lips were tight against yours, hardly kissing but more just breathing into one another, “Do I want you so much?” He thrust into you slowly, rolling his hips. You kissed his neck, moving your hands through his hair and onto his back as he found a steady rhythm.

Your legs caressed his back, moving up and down against him with every thrust. It was filthy. Your naked body against the cool metal of his car. Desperately throwing yourself at this man.

And yet, you held onto him as tight as you could, crying out as he pistoned in and out of you.

His hands moving under your thighs, nails gripping into them painfully as he lifted you up. You forgot how strong he was—effortlessly he carried you, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as he bounced you up and down on his cock. Face burying into your neck, lapping up the skin with open-mouthed kisses.

“You think you’re a princess do you?” Jungkook grabbed your neck, setting you back to lie on the car.  Stilling for a moment he watched your fucked out eyes. “I’m thinking you’re more like a little desperate slut”

“I am” You exhaled, nodding dumbly, “I’m a slut for you. Wanna do whatever you want Jungkook please f-fuck”

He rammed back into you. Cock hitting you deep. You walls clenching around him, leaking to which Jungkook growled under his breath. His fingers finding your clit, working it expertly, causing your eyes to roll back as pleasure seized you.

Twitching all over, shocks of lust pouring through your veins. Jungkook coerced your orgasm as his cock sheathed into you. Your folds fluttering around his length, tightening it’s visceral grip.

“They can’t make you cum like I do baby” Jungkook pulled out, stroking himself against your thigh. “Get on your fucking knees”

You obeyed. Sliding down the car until your bare knees were on the parking lot. Jungkook’s cock stood proud in your face. You watched, eyes blasted and needy, before placing your own hands in place of his.

He watched as you stroked him. As your lips pressed against his tip before you let him sink down your throat. Hollowing your cheeks, you gave him everything you possibly could. Bobbing your head up and down, the noises bringing shame to your cheeks.

“Show me your pretty tits baby” Jungkook grabbed a fistful of your hair, “Want to cum on your tits”

You gasped, releasing him with a pop of your lips. Immediately pressing your tits together so Jungkook could slide his heavy cock between them. It felt good. Him rubbing up against you like this. Your heart against his pulsing need. You pulled him closer, wanting to feel him more. He licked his lips, watching you intently.

You stared up at him. Eyes gleaming. Jungkook spurted all over you, cum landing on your chest. Your heart sunk, knowing the moment would end. Reality was waiting for you at home. Your escape had ended.

Jungkook’s eyes softened, as he helped you up. You kissed him again, urging him for more. Urging him to fill you up again. To fuck you senseless all night long. Moaning into his mouth, you rolled your body against him.

“Fuck baby” Jungkook gripped your waist, stilling your movements, “You need me that bad huh?” You nodded, biting your lip as he teased you, “Yeah? You want more huh?”

You turned around, bending over so your ass was on display. Jungkook cursed under his breath as you spread your legs. An open invitation. Every man’s dream.

Licking his fingers, he ran them through your folds, spreading them out and pushing through the wetness. You gushed over him. Whimpering. He kept rubbing you, his movements strong but not rushed. Lips grazing your bare back.

His other hand slid between you and the car, gripping your breast hard. He pumped his fingers inside you, chest pressed against your back. You could feel his breath against your nape, riling you up even more. Heat pooling all over you.

He chuckled. The vibrations of which hit you right in the core. You were so turned on you couldn’t help it. You leaked all over, squirting into you palm. Jungkook laughed more as you came. Your fingers digging into your palms as you screamed.

“Already? You’re so fucking desperate”

“I don’t wanna go home” You confessed. Jungkook paused.

He turned you around, palm resting against your cheek.

“I know” He stiffened, “I’m sorry, for what you’re going through”

Jungkook pulled you up, grabbing your clothes from the ground. He led you to the backseat of the car where he let you tear his clothes off of him.

Settling onto his strong lap, he let you grind your wet pussy against him. Naked bodies fused together. You clawed at the back of his head, moaning at the top of your lungs as you sunk down on Jungkook’s cock again.

He watched you, amazed. Your eyes shut, bouncing up and down on him. Rutting desperately.

You’re not sure when you stopped. The two of you like hormonal teenagers, touching kissing and fucking until your limbs were sore. Jungkook, surprisingly, ever the giver, made you cum more times than you ever had in one night. And even when you were too sensitive for anything more, you still couldn’t find the will to leave.

Until you remembered the look in Taehyung’s eyes.

Jungkook held you. Lightly kissing your back as you cuddled into him. Again, another position you never thought you’d find yourself in with Jeon Jungkook.

“You should go” Jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper. You gave him a hurt look, “I know, I know. You’ll be okay”

Sitting upright, you began to put your clothes on. Jungkook watched before speaking again,

“Jung Hoseok”

You stilled.

“Jin was seeing Jung Hoseok. The two of them were dating. I had a suspicion and Jimin confirmed it earlier.”

Shit.

“You acted like you didn’t know”

You looked at him. To see if he was actually hurt by your lying, or used to your games.

“I don’t know anyone named Jung Hoseok”

Jungkook stared at you before scoffing.

“Not only do you know Jung Hoseok, but I know that you called him many times before Jin’s death. I have evidence that both he and Namjoon were with you at some point that night,”

You remained silent, fuming.

“He was the one who called you earlier, wasn’t he?”

You swallowed.

“I’m not the one unwilling to be on the same side” Jungkook sighed, “I told you before, we can help each other out. You’re hiding so much from me, and have the audacity to think of yourself as a victim. All you need to do is tell me what happened that night, and I can help you figure this out”

“Fuck you Jeon. This was a mistake” You snapped, “Take me home”

Jungkook clicked his tongue, “Right. Home to your Kim boys. To your palace”

⟵|| previous || next ||⟶

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#jungkook smut #jimin smut #bts smut #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere jungkook #yandere jimin #yandere taehyung #bts yandere #yandere bts #bts series #jeon jungkook x reader #park jimin x reader #park jimin smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #bts jimin smut #bts pwp #bts mafia au #yandere bts smut #bts x reader #yandere bts x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #pjm x reader #yandere jimin smut #jungkook fic recs #jimin fic recs #jungkook smut recs

[hobisstar]

hobisstar presents

y!= yandere themed

•Headcanon

• possessive!jk

• WAYHFL!jk

•One and done

•blue. |y!taehyungxreader

Summary: Breaking up over a difficult reason was always tuff to handle. Everyone had their different ways with dealing with them. Taehyung wasn’t everyone and he’d be damned if the love of his life thought it was okay to say such a thing.

•Still with you |y!jungkookxreader

Summary: being the most famous and popular YouTuber and singer has its kicks. great fans, terrible fans, weird fans, yn has seen and had them all… but this fan, she wish she never had…

•mine for eternity |y!jiminxreader

Summary: y/n is a dance student in Jimins ballet class. They’ve had this friends with benefits thing going on and it was stopped when yn decided it was good for them, jimin so happens to disagree.

•Holdin on |hoseokxreader

Summary: yn and hoseok have a falling out, but you need to return his belongs on a stormy night.

•Dance for us |y!ot7xreader

Summary: Being the choreographer for the biggest group of the 21st century seems to be a dream come true. YN has been with BTS since debut, they’ve been close since then. of course with love there comes the protect…right?

•Autumn leaves |y!jiminxreader

Summary: if autumn is so beautiful, how come love seems to end in autumn? Jimin is scared to loose the love of his life in autumn. The only thing is, they aren’t even dating.

•Toxic Attraction |y!jungkookxreader

Summary: Jungkook doesn’t know when his love for her grew, doesn’t even recall ever not loving her. to him since the day she moved in next door, she’s always been his. He would do anything for her, even kill. Of course she wouldn’t leave him, right?

•Loving you |y!hoseokxreader

Summary: Hoseok has a confession. He fears living without his doctor. His obsession for her was what landed him in the asylum anyway or maybe it was his shitty family.

•3 D |jkxplussize!reader

Summary: Yn caught Jungkooks eye since freshman year in college, The only problem is Yn is his professor but he needs her bad.

•Series

•Fly to my room |ot7xreader [still in works]

Summary: Vacation, gotta love me! Working day and night with no break, this is something they all desire. the guys invite their best friend, YN To The In The Soop Vacation. Of course, they told their camera crew to not record her. She’s fine! But, she’s conflicted with sexual tension from each of the seven men. I II III IV V

•What are you hiding from love |y!jungkookxreader [coming soon..]

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one. I II III IV V Complete

#bts x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park Jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jeongkook #bts ff #bts smut #yandere bts

[wildestdreamsblog]

When you tried to move on from them

Pairing: Maknae line x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

Jimin

“Go home, Jimin,” you ordered in a hard tone. You came home from a date only to see him standing in front of your door, clearly waiting for you. You heard him sniffed as he looked up at you, his pouty lips shaking.

“W-were you on a date?”

You looked at him dead in the eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

“B-but, I love you,” he pleaded at you, tears falling from his eyes, the same eyes you thought was the most beautiful.

“Apparently, not enough to stay loyal to me,” you replied dryly before opening your door. You were about to slam the door to his face when he pushed the door, careful not to hurt you. Jimin had always been strong. His built made him looked harmless, but you saw the muscles in his body, felt how strong he was on the nights he couldn’t be gentle as he made love to you.

So it came to no surprise to see him easily stopping the door with only his one hand.

“If you’re trying to make me jealous, stop it. You don’t want to see me jealous, baby. I don’t know what I will do if you ever look at another man again,” he said in an emotionless voice, his face losing the sadness it had mere moments ago. In its place was a serious, yet terrifying expression.

You should have been scared.

“Go home, Jimin.”

Why would you listen to him? You weren’t cheating on him. He did. And now you were moving on, he had no right to go to you and cry as though he wasn’t the reason why you had to start over again.

But you should not have underestimated his obsession for you.

“Mom!” You called out as you entered her home. She hadn’t been responsive of your calls for days that you decided to finally visit her. She normally didn’t answer calls, too busy with her own group of friends in the neighborhood that at first it didn’t bother you. But you felt that this was something different.

What alleviated your fears was seeing the lights turned on in the house, the sound of someone cooking in the kitchen made you shook your head. Perhaps, you had been watching too much murder mysteries. “Why weren’t you answering my calls…” you trailed off when your ex-boyfriend, Jimin, stepped out of the kitchen.

“Baby, you’re home!” He beamed at you, walking around the dining table to go to you when you stepped back.

“W-what are you doing here? Where’s my mom?”

He smiled in that angelic way of his, one that made you say yes to him before. But now, it looked sinister. Now, it looked wrong.

“She’s…somewhere.”

“What did you do?” You whispered as you felt the wall behind your back. You had nowhere else to go and he knew it. “J-Jimin please-“

“Shh,” he gently shushed you before caressing your face. God, he missed your face. He missed your heat. He missed you.

He craved you.

“She’s safe, baby. Do you want to go to her?”

You could only nod.

He smiled at you, “We’ll go to her, baby. As long as you’re a good girl.”

It was obvious. This was a threat, a barely concealed threat. It was like Park Jimin, a devil wrapped in an angelic face.

“Will you be my good girl once again?”

Your nod cemented your fate.

Taehyung

“Let go of me!” You shouted at the man carrying you over his shoulder. “Unhand me, you brute!” You were trashing your legs around, beating your fists against his broad back, yet Taehyung kept walking. His incessant need and despair for you made him determined to finally make his move, no matter how small it was.

Really. It was supposed to be a little thing, just something to see and talk to you. After all, it had been almost a month of you evading and ignoring him. Really, he was supposed to be calmed.

He really was.

But you just had to go and date some other man who could not even give you everything you wanted. And so, Taehyung saw red. If it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around him, he would have beaten the undeserving man to death. But Taehyung was too touch starved, too desperate of you that one touch of you managed to clear the haze in his mind.

He was quiet as he walked to his fancy car. He deposited you as gently as he could on the front seat, never minding your attacks on him as he fastened your seatbelt. The image of you seating in front of someone else that wasn’t him, the image of you holding someone else’s hand unleashed the barely restrained beast he had inside him. One that you only managed to peak at during the times when he slipped.

“Calm down or I’m going back there to finish what I started,” his deep voice was terrifying, yet the message he partook made you froze. The Taehyung you knew was a gentle soul, someone who would never even kill a fly, someone who took his time to appreciate flowers. This was not him.

But really, did you ever know him? The real him?

You watched in bated breath as he got in the car, your eyes wide as you watched him movements. How could he be so calm as though he didn’t beat someone? As though he wasn’t a punch away from almost killing him?

He terrified you now, a feeling you were unfamiliar with when you were still with him. Would he hurt you? Would he be too uncontrollable that he would lay his hands on you?

Taehyung took a calming breath as he drove away. He could finally feel peace now that you were near. He could finally feel the beast inside him retreating, making him feel human again.

“W-where are you taking me?” Your voice trembled. He was driving calmly with one hand, the other gripping your hand despite your obvious resistance.

“Where else?” He flashed you his sweet smile, his eyes leaving the road for a second to look at you. He was utterly handsome, but his eyes were frightening. “To our new home.”

“W-we broke up-“

“We just had a small fight, princess. That’s all,” he cut you off in a hard voice, signifying that this was the end of discussion.

“It was not a small fight and you know it! You cheated on me in that house-“

You felt his hand squeezed yours for a moment before running his thumb on it. “That’s why I bought us a new house, princess. It’s in a good neighborhood, close to good schools. And our house has more rooms so when we finally have a child, we would be ready.”

Your jaw slackened at his delusional words. Child? A house? School? Taehyung was certifiably insane, you were certain now. He brought your clasped hand to his lips, looking at you with all the love he felt before placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

“We will never be apart again, princess. I promise you that.”

Jungkook

It wasn’t easy leaving Jungkook. But hiding from him proved to be a challenge. If you thought he was bad when Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi had to hold him back just so you could leave, he was worse now. After that fateful day when Yoongi managed to stop the golden maknae by some divine intervention, you went straight to your best friend’s house, seeking refuge from the chaos that was your life. You couldn’t go to your parents’ house because you knew he’d immediately go there. You couldn’t go to your and his apartment because that would be similar to walking straight into a lion’s den.

You rationalized that you wouldn’t hide forever, that it was just now because you couldn’t face him. Not when he betrayed you. Not when the image of that girl sucking him off was still ever so present in your mind. Not when how he reacted terrified you.

But days turned into weeks. And his desperation for you only seemed to multiply, his messages and calls seemed more frequent. In his twisted head, you were still his and what happened was merely a bump in your road. And if you were his, didn’t he deserve to know where you were? What you were doing? Who you were with?

You sighed in irritation as you reject yet another of his calls. Couldn’t he take a hint?!

“I’m sorry about that,” you said apologetically to your date.

He merely smiled before putting down the glass of wine. He was your colleague, a friend of yours before you even dated Jungkook. He was kind and simple, exactly what you needed right now. He waved off your apology, “Clingy ex?” He asked jokingly.

“Something like that,” you mumbled.

A date turned into two, which turned into more.

It felt nice to go out there and date simply without any restrictions that came with dating an idol. Perhaps, your breakup was a blessing. But to Jungkook, it was a curse.

It was especially a curse now as he looked at your social media. You were tagged by some asshole on a picture of you drinking wine, your eyes looking at the camera and a small smile on your lips.

Was that it? As he was breaking down, you were out there trying to forget him? Trying to move on from him? As if he would let you?

As though he would go down without a fight?

Well, if you thought he would let you slipped from his grasp that easily, if you thought he wouldn’t die first before letting you go, you were so fucking wrong.

It was midnight when your phone kept ringing. And when you finally looked at your notifications, your whole world collapsed before your very eyes.

Jungkook just posted a picture on his social media of you and him on the day he proposed to you. You were proudly showing off your ring to the camera as he looked at you with all the love in the world.

God, what had he done?

You could feel your heart beat louder, drumming against your bones. You could feel the walls closing in on you. You couldn’t breathe just thinking about what would happen to you now that the whole world knew your face, now that the whole world thought of you as his. You were certain you couldn’t leave the apartment, that you couldn’t go to work with all the reporters and fans that would be flocking to you.

Jeon Jungkook, in a snap of his finger, confiscated your freedom.

You didn’t waste anytime. You called him immediately as you walked around your apartment, distressed apparent in your face. You thought he wouldn’t answer, you thought he would be petty. But not a second later, you heard his voice.

“Hi, my love. Miss me?”

“How dare you, Jungkook! How dare you-“

“No. How dare you date someone else? It was a wrong move, my love.”

“We broke up!”

“Did we?” He pondered, his voice deep. If you could see him now, you would be terrified of him. “The whole world now knows we’re engaged, my love. You can no longer run away from me.”

Jungkook smiled for the first time in more than a month. Finally, you would be back in his arms. You had to because he left you with no choice. This time though, he wouldn’t let you leave.

Checkmate.

He had you cornered.

You knew he had you cornered.

#bts fic #bts yandere #yandere bts #jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #maknae line #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x you #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x uou #jungkook x you #taehyung x you #jimin x you

[bleuside97]

When Jungkook Comes Home from Tour

paring: boyfriend!jungkook x fem!reader

genre: long distance boyfriend au

summary: when Jungkook can't keep his hands off you.

warnings: slight smut, feels the reader up mostly, will not stop flirting with you, like one cuss word.

fluff, slight smut.

You and your boyfriend Jungkook have known each other since childhood. Growing up from childhood best friends to each other then to high school sweethearts. You always had supported Jungkook decisions with a pure heart. He was the first to tell his best friend he wanted to be a trainee, and like a good friend you wished him the best and supported him. His trainee days were probably the toughest time in his life and the friendship between you guys. But you loved him so much so you pulled through for years. And it worked out because you're in a committed relationship with your best friend. Now Jungkook happens to be one of the biggest and most successful idols in the world. So that does require him to be away from the love of his life a lot. For months at a time. But when he does come home you better be waiting with open arms and open legs.

You and jungkook both lie on his bed. Jungkook can't seem to keep his hands off of you smiles softly, his fingers travelling up and down your body as he rests on top of you. He gives you a gentle nibble on your neck, kissing the spot afterwards. “I missed this…” He says, his mouth hovering over your ear as he whispers softly. Light pecks met the skin of your ear. Not wanting this question to be avoided you ask, "How long are you staying here with me for?" “Hmmmm…” Jungkook begins, his eyes trailing down over your body. Passion and lust for you are ridden in his doe eyes. “I think the company allowed me to break for a couple months now." He chuckles softly, leaning forward as his fingers trace along your waist. Creating circles and nipping the skin of your waist. He slightly pinched the skin of it seeing redness appear. Happy with the reaction. He licks his lip ring before prepping your waist with soft kisses. "I'm happy you're on break for months. I'm so lonely when you're not with me."

Jungkook smiles warmly through your hair. “I know… I hate being away from you, I’m so much happier just having you in my arms.” He nuzzles your neck, kissing it softly. You smile. "I watch the videos your company posts on YouTube I see you cuddling with your members when I'm not there." You teased with a smirk. Jungkook chuckles, his lips pressing against your cheek. As he felt up your sides. “Maybe occasionally…” His fingers travel higher up your body, his arms tightening around you once more. Pulling you even closer to him. He starts to feel you up. He cups your breasts in his hands and with his warm hands he massages them with his fingers and making small circles with his thumbs. Pinching the nipple slightly. "Am i better than Jimin?" You ask staring up in his eyes. Jungkook smiles, his fingers stroking and massaging both of your thigh. Occasionally glances up at you to see if you like it and want him to keep going.

“Far better…” He whispers softly, his lips brushing against your skin softly. “Nobody could ever be better than you.” "Mean that?" You asked, you know no one can have Jungkook the way she has him. You are his and he is yours. Jungkook gives a soft nod. “I do.” His fingertips continue to stroke the inside of your thigh, his mouth hovering close to your skin. He kisses each thigh all over. "Is this what everyday is gonna look like when your here? You wanting to fuck me ever chance you get." Jungkook chuckles, leaning over to bite your ear as he responds.

“Everyday isn’t gonna be just me having my way with you…” Jungkook smiles warmly, his eyes fluttering as his hand travels back down your thigh. “How bout we have some time like that now?” Taken a back you answer stifly. "Can you handle me?" Jungkook shrugs slightly. “I think I can… Maybe you should show me what I’m in for first.” His eyes fluttered and he grins devilishly.

a/n edits: so this is my second time posting on here and it's been 3 years since my first post. Ik. but I'm actually going to start writing and posting on here more. i have a couple ideas so far ranging from fluff ofc course to angst to yandere to hard yandere. ummm.. it's a wide range but yeah.. ima js mostly write about Jungkook for now cause im currently obsessed with him and the rest of members. but there's something about Jungkook. also the gif is supposed weird it's supposed to be in the beginning. but this is how i see Jungkook looking at his s/o while she's talking. checking her out and licking his lips. oh to be Jimin here. this man is too fine frr 😭.

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts reaction #bts army #yandere bts #yandere!bts #bts fluff #bts x reader #park jimin #park jimin x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook oneshot #boyfriend jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook angst #jjk #jung hoseok #bts jungkook #bts icons

[piedinthepiper]

Disease ˖ ⊹

Doctor!Jimin x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve had a sore throat for months now, good thing Doctor Jimin has a cure.

Warnings: dark content, dubcon ish, corruption, smut, mention of bullying, yandere?

Wc: 2.3 k

A/n: wrote a little something based on this request! Reader is innocent in the beginning, but throughout you will discover that she’s not innocent at all, but not in a sexual way… This is a great concept, but this is just so unserious. But I had to! It was right in front of me and I had to!

Another A/n: This is also written based on my firm belief that all doctors were pretentious nerds in high school. Because no one gets grades like that from actually having a life.

This can be read as both a pt. 1 or a pt. 2 to before: disease. They can also be read separately, you decide!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I’m not a doctor, everything is off Google! Some technical terms might me wrong, don’t sue me! Also it’s a really stupid story, it’s pure fiction! If any doctor or medical personnel ever does this to you it’s not ok! Ok?

“Y/n y/l/n.”

Your name was heard throughout the waiting room. You smiled at the woman in scrubs, getting up from your seat to follow her. You clutched your bag to your side. Anxiously walking down the hallway.

“Dr. Park will be with you in a minute.”

She smiled as she stopped, holding the door open for you. You walked into the empty doctor’s office. She closed the door behind you, leaving you alone. You sat down in the chair, placing your purse carefully in your lap. You let out a deep breath. Being in a doctor’s office was just scary. You knew it was safe and all that. It was just something about giving a random person information about yourself that made you nervous. The sterile room that so many people had received bad news in. You were dreading the thought of you also receiving such news in that room. The possibility of not knowing if you’re terminally ill or if you just have a flu. Well, that was why you were there in the first place. The door opened, and your face turned in its direction.

“Good morning, ms. y/l/n, right?”

A sweet calming voice erupted from the man. You nodded and stood up to shake his hand. He sat down opposite of you, starting to click and type on his computer. You nervously looked down at your hands, waiting for him to talk again.

“I see you’ve had a sore throat for quite some time now. Is that the reason you’re here today?”

You looked back up at him again. He was leaning forwards on the desk on his elbows. His hands neatly put together.

“Yes, it’s like I’ve had a cold for months now. It just won’t go away.”

He nodded and typed something on his computer.

“Have you noticed any swelling in your lymph nodes?”

He asked still focused on the computer screen. You thought for a second.

“I don’t know, I haven’t checked.”

He nodded at your answer.

“Any peculiar or ugly coughs? Like slime coughs or even blood?”

“There was this one time where there were a little blood.”

He looked back at you, clearly concerned about what you told him.

“How much?”

You shook your head.

“Very little, it was more the taste of blood. Nothing visible.”

He went back to typing.

“And it was only once.”

You added, trying to make the whole situation sound a little better. It wasn’t even that bad, it was probably just because you had been coughing so much that day, your throat was so sore that a little cut appeared. But it was the reason you decided to go to the doctor in the first place.

“Ok, are you ok with me examining you a little?”

He asked calmly, his full attention back to you. You sighed but nodded. He got up from his chair and pointed to the bed looking thing with a long sheet of paper on it. You got up as well and followed him, jumping slightly to get up on it. You wiped your clammy hands on your jeans, trying your best to calm down. He put on white latex gloves and came over to you, positioning himself between your legs. You straightened your back a little.

“Look up for me.”

You did as asked and looked up at the ceiling. His gloved hands immediately went to your neck. Slightly pushing on the sides of it.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and you nodded slightly.

“Your lymph nodes are quite swollen actually. It’s weird that you haven’t noticed.”

He said as he quickly moved to your stomach. Your back quickly straightened even more at the sudden contact.

“Just relax for me, I don’t bite.”

He jokingly said. You let out a small laugh and tried your best to relax. He put pressure on your waist.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and looked you directly in your eyes while his hands roamed your waist. You shook your head, not trusting your voice. He stopped.

“Do you mind taking your sweater off?”

He asked calmly, looking down at where his hands were seconds ago. You panicked for a second, not knowing what to answer.

“Your sweater is quite thick, it’s purely so I can examine you correctly, ms. y/l/n.”

You nodded and started taking off your sweater.

“Of course.”

You mumbled as you pulled it over your head, leaving you in just a black bra. Goosebumps littered your skin at the sudden contact with the cold air. For a second you saw him looking at you, mouth slightly open. It made you uncomfortable, the look was not a professional one.

“Amazing.”

He said and licked his lip slightly before finding your waist again. You tried your best not to freak out at how close he was now. You felt so much more vulnerable now that you were half naked.

“Does it hurt now?”

He asked and did the same motion he did earlier. You shook your head again.

“Can you turn to the side for me?”

He almost whispered. You turned to the side, placing one leg at the floor for stability. You felt his hands slide up your back, pushing at some spots and asking if they hurt. You suddenly felt the cold touch of a stethoscope on your back.

“Breathe slowly in for me.”

You took a deep breath.

“Keep going, keep going for me, y/n.”

You breathed out once those words escaped his mouth. He didn’t say it like a doctor would. There was something behind it you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Try again.”

He uttered and you did. You managed to hold your breath.

“Good girl.”

He said as you breathed out again, making you cough.

“That cough doesn’t sound very good.”

He said as he stepped back into your view. You positioned yourself fully back on the bed.

“I’ll examine your mouth now, ok? Tell me if anything feels too uncomfortable.”

You nodded.

“Open up.”

You did as he commanded. He put two of his gloved fingers flat on your tongue.

“Wider, please.”

You opened your mouth as far as you could. He pointed a flashlight down your throat. Tears started forming in your eyes as his fingers almost choked you.

“Looks like you got some tonsils down there.”

His fingers slowly slid out of your mouth and you closed it and swallowed whatever spit had occurred during the examination. He started removing his gloves, throwing them in the nearest bin. He came back to you and placed himself close to you again. So close that it would be awkward to reach for your sweater that had fell to the floor.

“They’re not big enough to remove just yet. They might shrink if you do the right things.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to get a little bit of modesty.

“What do you recommend?”

You asked him.

“Take cough syrup and cough drops, drink as much warm beverages as possible.”

You sighed.

“But I’ve been doing that for months now, and it hasn’t helped as far as I’m concerned.”

You said and looked down, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him that close. He hummed in understanding, stepping slightly away. You took the chance to reach for your sweater again. But his arm stopped you. You sat back up, looking at him confused.

“There is another solution. It’s a bit- well. Unorthodox.”

“What?”

You asked, willing to do whatever he told you. You didn’t want to walk around with a constant sore throat for the rest of your life.

“Do you have a partner?”

He asked. You shook your head, still confused about where he was going with this.

“That’s a shame. You see, recent research has found out that fresh and warm semen can do wonders for a sore throat.”

You swallowed feeling the saliva sting your sore throat. You knew what he was aiming at, you weren’t dumb. Or at least you didn’t think so.

“Really?”

You asked, not convinced that he was actually asking you to blow him.

“Yeah, I’m a doctor, you can trust me.”

You nodded and stepped off the bed, hearing the thin sheet of paper slightly rip. You looked him in the eyes as you sunk down to the floor. Letting your hands drag down his body.

“Woah ok. Didn’t know you were that desperate.”

His hand went to your face as you positioned yourself on you knees.

“I’m just doing this to get better, alright?”

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll help you.”

He was quick to answer, almost eager. You started working on his belt, trying to get it done as quick as possible. Maybe you were dumb, maybe he tricked you to give him a blow job. The thought definitely crossed your mind. But like he said, he was a doctor, he knew this better than you. And after months of trying everything to cure your throat, you were willing to try just one more thing.

You pulled his half hard dick out, giving it a few pumps. It was a good size, even at its half hard stage. You were about to put your lips to it, but his hand reaches your forehead.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?”

He asked with a sly grin. You looked confused at him. He clicked his tongue, hissing slightly.

“Well, I don’t offer this to every patient that comes in with a sore throat. Maybe a thank you, a little begging for my help would work?”

You mentally cursed yourself, but you were too far in to back out now. You let one of your bra straps fall down your shoulder as you looked up at him with doe like eyes. Your hand started jerking him slowly.

“Please, Dr. Park. Please let me suck your cock. You’re the only one that can help my sore throat.”

His eyes changed from slyness to horniness at your words.

“Good girl, you deserve a cure for that throat.”

You kissed his tip.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Park.”

You said before your mouth covered his tip. You started sucking on it watching his face twist in pleasure.

“That’s it.”

He whispered as you swallowed his cock. His head turned to the ceiling, as a moan escaped his lips. You started bobbing your head up and down, not wasting any time and keeping a steady rhythm. His hands reached your hair, grabbing a fistful. He didn’t force you to go deeper, he just held your hair as some sort of stability for himself.

“I always knew you were a little slut. Sucking me dry in my office with other patients waiting outside.”

He started talking dirty once the initial pleasure wave was over. Swearing in between his words.

“I’ve waited for this for so long. Fuck- Ever since I first saw you I’ve wondered what those lips looked like around my cock.”

You choked at his sudden comment, his hand in your hair stopping you from removing yourself of said cock. You started going faster instead, wanting this to stop so you didn’t have to listen to his creepy speech.

“You remember me from high school right?”

You now realised you were very very dumb, as your mind raced through your memories from high school. Park Jimin, the nerdy weirdo in science class. You would always catch him stare at you, but you couldn’t remember ever speaking to him. Well, except for when you and your friends would call him names and break his glasses. He pushed his hips forward, making you choke again.

“Of course you don’t. You were too popular. But- shit. Look at me now.”

You looked up at him with teary eyes. His hand went from your hair to your cheek, and caressed it carefully.

“I made a shit load of money to have you sucking my dick today. Shit- I have the most gorgeous girl from high school blowing me right now. Finally.”

He started moving his hips, you knew he was close.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

He moaned as you felt the warmth of his seed fill your mouth. You waited for it all, not wanting to have any of it actually hit your skin. You swallowed, before you got up again. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a deadly look.

“I remember you, you little freak. You were disgusting back then and you still are to this day.”

You erupted adjusting your bra strap back over your shoulder.

“There you are, that’s the y/n I remember. Always something mean to say.”

He said as he tucked himself back, that sly look creeping back onto his face.

“Who’s the bully now, y/n?”

You snarled at him and turned around to get your sweater from the floor. You were ready to leave and change doctors immediately. But before you could get up again you felt his body crash into yours, pushing you up against that bed thing. He bent you over it, whispering in your ear.

“You were always the meanest. And I loved it. I loved you so much. I practically worshipped you.”

His groin was pushed up against your butt. You felt his bulge growing by the second as he took a deep sniff of your hair.

“Please, let me go. I’m sorry, I’m sorry ok?!”

You practically screamed, now afraid of the boy you never thought would be able to overpower you. But that was in high school. He was a man now.

“I will let you go, y/n. I’m not like you.”

But before he did as promised he got a good grip of your tits. Letting out a satisfied moan.

“Even better than I thought they would feel.”

He whispered before stepping away from you slowly. You immediately got away from him, quickly throwing the sweater back on your body.

“Remember that I had the power today, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes and walked towards the door. You stopped, and didn’t speak before your hand was placed firmly on the handle.

“Whatever you fucking weirdo.”

You said and opened the door, not looking back. You regretted being this fucking dumb. Falling for his trick, thinking that he had good intentions. The worst part was that it didn’t even get any better.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

#bts yandere #yandere!bts #yandere bts #yandere jimin #jimin x you #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts jimin #park jimin #yandere park jimin #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #park jimin x y/n #jimin x y/n #jimin x oc #jimin yandere #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #jimin #yandere!jimin #yandere x reader #yandere!jimin x reader #yandere!park jimin #request #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader

[linos-luna]

Club ❣️

Jimin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: rough sex, implied drinking, cursing, groping, dom Jimin ?

————————————————————————

You and your friend Jimin were in a club. The loud and blaring music made it hard to hear anyone but it didn’t matter as the drinks kept coming. Soon you found yourself getting pulled into the bathroom with the door locking behind you.

It was Jimin. He was kissing you, forcing in tongue as he backed you into the wall. You moaned into the kiss and he reached under your top to grope your braless breasts.

You weren’t sure it was because of the alcohol but you kissed back and let him roughly manhandle you.

He was quick to unbuckle his pants and lower his boxers before messing with the waistband of your panties.

“Jimin-… w-what are you doing—?”

“Fuck baby, you’re just so hot…” he sighed while lowering your panties.

“Jimin-…” you moan as he suddenly rubbed his tip to your cunt. “Agh Jimin!”

Your back arched as he entered you and thrust hard.

“Let me fuck you, baby…” Jimin grunted as he thrusted again while kissing your neck.

“Ji-ji—…” you gasped, unable to form a sentence as he pounded you into the wall. “Ah fuck~”

“You like that?” He teased with a smirk, getting close to your ear. “You like me fucking your filthy pussy?”

“Mmm… mmhm…”

“I wanna hear it!” He snapped with a hard thrust.

“Yes!”

“Yes what?”

“I like it!” You moaned. “Fuck me Jimin! Fuck me harder~!”

Jimin chuckled as he sucked hickeys on your neck and pounded you harder. You arched your back away from the cold walls while whining and gasping, completely fucked out until you felt him hit his high. Which you did as well.

He let go of you and you realized that you a little raised off the ground.

You lowered you skirt and watched as he lifted this pants.

“Wow you’re so good.” He panted. “So fuckin sexy.”

“Jimin…? Are we…? Are we a thing now…?” You asked awkwardly.

“Hm… what do you think?”

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #fanfic #kpop smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x female reader #jimin smut #bts x poc reader #bts x fem!reader #bts park jimin #bts #bts x reader #jimin #jimin yandere #jimin x y/n

[vinetae]

Can I please ask for a neighbour jimin who gets intensely attracted to y/n, they flirt a lil here and there and due to a guy's visit he gets extremely possesive and claims his ownership 💦🥵

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Your eyes lull to the back of your head at his shameless attempt. 

“And you’d be really cute with this knife shoved in your thick head.” He laughs, raising an eyebrow up in questioning. 

“So you think I’m cute?”

You scoff, eyes rolling. “Not in the slightest.” He hums, tilting his head before following you into your room. 

“But you said really, which means that I was just cute before. So therefore, you think I’m extra cute.”

Smile - PJM

____________________

Genre: Neighbours!Jimin x Neighbors!Reader, (Ft. Love interest Taehyung)

Word Count: my guess... 12K ?

Warnings: Lying, accusations, broken friendships, cunillingus, f.masturbation, wet dreams, pinning, vaginal fingering, games under the table, exhibitionism, voyeurism, light ass play, dirty talk, hurt no comfort (I'm so sorry Tae Tae), use of the word 'faggot', cursing, harsh language, foul language. Camera play, videotaping of sexualactivities, pornographic described photos sessions. Possessive!Jimin, Yandere!Jimin, sub!reader, usage of 'wifey' terms and Y/n being a helpless damsel in distress. Y/n being innocent, and Jimin loves it lol. Jimin coerces Y/n into a nude photography shoot. Jimin is VERY VERY sneaky and charming.

A/n: this got lost in my Tumblr drafts which I don't use anymore. I'm so sorry, anon! Please forgive me 🙏🙏🙏🙏💜 I wanted to post this to remind myself to write part 2 when I get the chance. To give you guys a sneak peak I guess? I just gotta write the steamy.. 🥵

.

.

You take in a deep breath, nodding your head in assurance. “Thanks again for the help, guys! Really appreciate it.” They’re quick to ignore the comment, brushing past your shoulder quite roughly. You silently groan, rubbing at the sensitive skin before turning back around to meet their gazes. 

“Total’s 120 for the three hours plus lift.” He gruffs, jotting down the amount on the piece of paper. You nod, feeling the jolt of him shoving the little slip into your grip. 

“Have it paid by next Tuesday.” He turns around, picking the large toolbox up off your oak flooring before exiting. You rush over, leaning in the door to thank them once again but they don’t return the same attitude. 

You huff, folding your arms at the annoyance. Blowing a piece of hair from your view, your eyes scan the loitered hallway full of your things.

Your eyes follow a dark shadow across the corridor, waving at the young man. A black ball cap covered his face, along with a darkened gray mask. His clothes had resembled ones that someone would sleep in to keep warm in the cold winter days. Black sweatpants and sweatshirt to match. 

Your arm flies in the air, waving as he passes by. “Hi!” 

He brushes your arm, moving past your body before walking into the doorway of his apartment. 

“Hmph. Rude much..” You gruff, taking in a breath.

 “Alright..”  You lean down to lift the heavy box. It had been quite heavy, until suddenly the weight felt light as a feather. You lean to the side to look past the large cardboard box,  seeing a young flash you a bright smile. 

“Here, I’ve got it.” He adds, pushing his way past the rest of your things before turning around for guidance. 

“Oh uh- just set it down in the livingroom.” He nods, placing the large box down before walking back to the hallways. Your hand catches his shoulder before he continues. 

“Uhm.. who are you?” 

He flashes a quick grin before lifting another box. “I’m part of the moving crew. Sorry my dad’s such a..” 

“Pain in the ass?” He laughs at the joke. 

“Exactly.” His hand extends out, a boxy smile plasters his expressions. “My name’s Kim Taehyung.” You nod, shaking his hand with the same enthusiasm. You take a glance down the hallway, frowning. 

“Won’t you miss your ride?” He shakes his head, while hoisting two boxes into his grip.

“I drove here myself. I’m just working as a mover for the summer. Just some extra cash I can show off.” He winks before taking the boxes back into your apartment. You chuckle, watching as he makes quick work of the boxes that would’ve taken you hours to finish moving. 

“Oh- How rude of me!” You yelp, running to the kitchen, peaking out from the fridge’s door to call out to him. “Would you like anything to drink?” He sets the box down, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. His permed fluffy, puppy-like hair had floofed up even more from Korea’s hot summers. 

“Water please?” He asks. Your body freeze at the sight. Eyes trailing down the plains of his torso, watching as his six-pack tenses with each move of his joints. The lump in your throat felt as thick as a golf ball. 

“Uh- yes. Of course!” You laugh it off, trying to hide the nervousness in your tone. You’re quick to make work of his water -like there was much to do anyways- before you set it on the coffee table he’d already placed down. His sweating body takes a seat on your hardwood floors, legs crossing in manner. 

“Thank you” He glances up through the glass, flashing you a bright smile. You plop down onto the edge of your sectional, taking slight-

Who were you kidding? 

You’re watching this Taehyung guy drink water like it’s the best telanovela you’d ever seen. 

He downs the glass quickly, setting it quietly on the coffee table in front of the two of you. “Anything else I can do?” He questions, internally smirking at the way you’d been staring at his adam’s apple for the past minute or so. 

You shake your head, pulling yourself from the rabbit hole of dirty thoughts. “I think that’s it.” You reach out to your purse, rummaging through the tiny folds of tightly laced fabrics before taking a glance up. “How much do I owe you?” 

He smiles, pulling out his phone to calculate the total. His eyebrows knit together, watching as his face intensifies on the numbers. After a few minutes of torture, he contuines, sliding the phone back into his pocket. 

“Sixty-nine dollars, or.." He eyes you up and down, lips trailing out to pad across his bottom lip. "you.”

Your eyebrow quirks at his weird statement. He shakes his head, chuckling nervously.

“No I mean- Ah fuck.. I’m not good with pick up lines, am I?” His hand reaches back to rub at the nape of his neck, acting as if he’s shying out of asking his highschool date to the prom. A few seconds go by before you get it. Your face immediately flushes. 

“No- Oh my God, I’m so dumb- Sorry! My Korean’s still a little wonky, you know?”

You smile, trying to hide the embarrassment behind your laugh. He chuckles at the irony. 

“But your total would be sixty-nine. Just saying.” You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “No way.” He pulls his phone from the pocket of his khakis, showing the blue an black screen which indeed had sixty-nine calculated in for about an hour. 

“Damn.” He chuckles, nodding. “It’s a sign, right?” His eyebrows raise, flashing a cheeky grin towards you. 

“Oh, for sure~” You tease, reaching into the pouch of your purse, pulling your phone from its concealment. 

“How about this? I pay you, and ask you out?” You watch as a little hue of pink flushes his round cheeks. “Ask me out? Hey, I was the one to ask first.” You laugh, nodding. 

“Yeah but you sucked at it.” He pouts but eventually agrees. “Yeah.. okay fine.” He stands up, getting a little more confident. “So how about this Saturday? 8:30?” You nod, rising to meet his level. Your hand reaches out, handing him the correct amount of money, as well as your number written on the piece of paper. 

“Sounds like a date.” He smiles like a little kid in a candy store before making his way quickly out the door. Before you hear the lock click, he’s quick to rush back in, using the door as support. 

“Wait! What’s your name?” You giggle, leaning down to start unpacking one of your boxes. 

“It’s Y/n.” 

.

.

You let out a deep breath, setting the huge load of laundry down onto the floor, admiring your hard work. You’d gotten almost everything done in just a few hours, since it hadn’t been a huge apartment. Now, all you had to do was wash your clothes. 

You lean down, throwing your darks in first before setting the machine’s timer. 

[Error]

“What?” You groan, pressing the button again, just for the little alarm to beep at you again. 

[Error]

“Ugh!” You bend down more, examining if there had been anything wrong with the machine. Once you knew it wasn’t it’s compartments, you rise back up to meet with the annoying error signal again. 

“Okay.. try this again.” You inhale calmly, trying to remember your breathing techniques you’d learned from the free month of yoga you’d signed up for. 

“Breeeathe, Y/n. It’s just a little-”

[Error]

“Why you piece of shi!-” 

A hand comes to bang in front of your face as you fumble back at the sudden noise. Your eyes glance over to your left side, watching as the man who’d hit the machine had been reaching down to take his things out of the lower machine. He glances up, the black face mask hides any kind of emotion he might’ve shown. 

“It gets stuck sometimes. Gotta hit it.” He says monotony, lifting his charcoal gray basket to his chest. You flash a quick smile, bowing.

“Thank yo-” 

He was gone. 

.

.

Jimin lets out a sigh, throwing the bag of laundry down onto his duvet cover. Shuffling over to the computer, plops down into his gaming chair. He slides his headset over, turning on his PC. The screen flashes a few times before loading up his game. 

“Heyyyy it’s J-man!” His friends chant on the other line. He scoffs, quick to choose his gun and character. 

“Yeah yeah, don’t shit your pants, alright? I’m only gonna play one round.” They all laugh at that, echoing through the mics. “Jimin and only one round?” 

“Oh please, his girlfriends beg to differ!” The two boys snicker over the lines, making Jimin groan in frustration. One thing his stupid mates had said caught his ear though. 

“You hear about the new girl who died in Chun-dae complex?” 

“No shittt bro. Wait- Jimin isn’t that where you live?” 

Jimin’s body freezes. His mic goes silent, as he calms his labored breaths. His finger hovers over the mic button before finally replying. “Yeah.” Everyone goes crazy. 

“Oh shiiit. Bro do you know what happened?”

“Did you know her?

“Did you fuck her is the question, gentleman.” They all agree, waiting for his response. He groans, eyes lulling to the back of his head before pressing the T button. 

“Of course I didn’t know her. It was all over the news, though. Cameraman and news channels cleaned every inch of her apartment.” They all ‘ooo’ in curiosity. 

“Hah, knowing him he probably was the one to kill the poor thing.” 

“Hey, Ji-bom, that's not funny. My sister knew her.” 

Ji-sung scoffs over the mic before replying. “Oh yeah? Only ‘cause they were scissoring each other the night before, isn’t that right?” 

“Ayoo, Ji-bom chill man.” Kwang chimes in at the banter. Jimin scoffs at his idiot teamates. 

“I’m just sayin’. Fucking faggot got what she deserved, dude.” 

“Alright alright that’s enough guys-” 

“That’s enough, both of you.” Jin barks back at the two, silencing the chatroom. 

“Thank you, hyung. Anyways, Jimin isn’t there a new girl moving into her apartment?” 

“Oooo yeah. Go check her out. I heard she just moved to Korea, too.” 

“Foreigner?” Jungkook chimes in.

 Jimin lets out a sigh, questioning why he’s even friends with any these idiots. He picks up the mic piece, making himself as clear as he can before answering. 

“I’ve already seen her.” He scoffs, spinning quietly in his chair to face the wall. 

“Ain’t much.” He retorts, clicking out of the call before throwing his wireless headphones to the side. 

His eyes take a glance to the organized white board decorated meticulously with red and blue strings, the woman’s face in the center had made a smirk creep up his face. 

.

.

“Oh fuck-” You curse, watching as the little orange from your net rolls from the paper bags and down the stairs. You whines, setting the little bags to the floor, following the rolling fruit. 

“Come back here you little-” Right before you’re able to catch the run away, a soled shoe props itself ontop of the orange. Your eyes flash up, seeing the same man from earlier towering over your figure. 

“Oh- thank you..” You bow to reach the object, but he’s quicker to pick it up. The black hat had been capped over his head, revealing the flat of his glistening forehead. His milky skin gleams in the floruescent lights, as he observes your orange like an artist admiring their work of art. 

“It’s gone bad.” He comments, throwing it up the stairs as you both watch it land in the space of your bag. Perfectly sitting ontop of the thin paper container. 

“Wow..” You awe at his skills, turning around to thank him once more. His black mask is pulled down to reveal a set of large and cherry red lips. A smirk plasters his face. 

“Why didn’t you just take the elevator?” 

You take a look down, trying to remember why you had gone this was in the first place. 

“I.. Don’t really remember.” He hums, leaning against the white stair railing for support. 

“You’re the girl from room 13, right?” You nod, flashing him a bright smile. 

“Yep! I think you’re..” 

“Room 14.” 

You nod sharply, sticking your hand out. His eyebrow raises at the gesture.

“Oh right.. Korea.” You cheek flush with a red tint, as you slowly go to retract your hand. However, he’s quick to take it in his grip, giving you a firm shake. His grip had pulled you closer in proximity, your body almost flushed against his completely. You could see the little twinge of gold specks peaking from his chocolate irises.

Where had your voice gone all of a sudden??

“I..I- Uhm.. My name’s Y/n.” You watch the corner of his mouth tug upwards at your stutter. 

“Jimin.” 

.

.

It had now been the second day of moving in. You decided to go explore the complex a bit more, wanting to know its history further than what the website had briefly explained. 

Your feet click against the old marbled flooring, and echoed clatter sounds through the empty rooms. Your head swished back and forth, taking a few glances at the passing doors on your way to the elevators. 

That’s odd. 

You’d been told that this apartment was constantly having people coming in and out all the time, but you haven’t seen a single soul since the guy in the stairwell. 

You shake your head, pulling yourself from the rabbit hole of your silly thoughts. You chalk it up to a weird coincidence. You’d moved in on a Wednesday anyways. Everyone was probably at work when you had tried greeting them. 

You make your way past the set of elevator doors, pressing the button to make quick work of getting downstairs. 

“Hold it!” You hear someone call out, reaching out to pause the elevator doors form shutting completely. He sighs, bowing to thank you as much as the boxes in his arms could. He sighs, taking in deep breaths. 

“Ah, thank yo- Y/n?” Your head cranes to the side, seeing Taehyung’s boxy smile and permed, curly locks flowing in the elevator’s A/C.

“Taehyung? What are you doing back here?” He smiles, flashing you a thousand-watt grin. “I’m helping an ajuma switch rooms.” He leans down, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. 

“She said she hates hearing the little ghost girl running across her ceiling..” Chills spiral down your back like a mattress coil. He chuckles, hitting your back gently. 

“I’m kidding! Well, I mean she did say that so.. I guess I wasn’t kidding..” He shrugs, fixing the collar of his Frank Sinatra hoodie. He continues to keep the conversation going, trying to explain himself. 

“Would it help if I said she was diagnosed with schizophrenia?” Your eyebrows knit in fear. A cold rush flows through your blood. 

“Not really..” He pouts, lip peeking out to quiver. 

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to scare you, promise!” You finally let go a bit, flashing him a slight smile. 

“It’s okay.” He nods in excitement, glancing around the room awkwardly before turning back to catch your attention. “So how are you liking your new apartment?” He questions, rocking on the balls of his heels, clasping his hands behind his back. You let out a sigh, slightly nodding. 

“I like it. I wish people were a little more friendly, though..” He nods, a compassionate look plastering his face. “Yeah.. it’s got a lot of old people in it, so can’t really ask for the nicest of treatments.” You sigh, nodding at the truth. 

“But hey! It’s got a nice view, huh?” You giggle at his excitement, agreeing. “Indeed. And I’ve got one kinda nice neighbour?” He flashes you an adorable boxy smile. “Really? Who?” 

“He said his name was like- Jimin or something.” 

The whole atmosphere feezes. Taehyung’s once bouncy and energetic vibe fades, and a dark, mysterious look plasters his face. 

“Y/n..” He turns to face you, taking your hand in his gently. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him, alright?” Your eyebrow knits in confusion. 

“What? Why? He seemed okay.” He shakes his head quickly. “I don’t know much but- he’s got a not so nice reputation around here..” The elevator dings, as the doors slides open. He sighs, taking the boxes back into his arms before turning to give you one last piece of advise. 

“Just- stay away from him.”

.

.

“Come on you freaking- Ugh!” You’d been trying for the past two hours to hook up the wifi and ethernet cables so you can watch Netflix, but you lost the instructions packet while moving your things around. You groan out, throwing the screwdriver to the side in frustration. 

You rise before walking out of your apartment door, as Taehyung’s voice rings in your mind. 

“He’s got a ‘not so nice’ reputation around here..”

“Just- stay away from him.” 

Your head shakes the thoughts away as you ring the doorbell. 

A few minutes after, the door starts to unlock, cracking open to reveal a messy haired man standing in the doorway. 

“Uh- Jimin?” You ask, wondering if it had been the same man you’d see earlier. He hums, leaning on the doorframe for support. The fuzzy blanket wrapped around his small frame had made him look completely harmless. 

Which only fueled your motives. 

“Uh- Hi. We met in the stairway earlier and-”

“Ah yeah.” He yawns, face resembling one of a little baby puppy waking up from it’s naptime. “Y/n, right?” You nod, happy that someone had remembered who you were. 

“Yes, that’s me haha. Uhm so- I was wondering if you knew anything about wifi cables?” His eyebrow raises at the question, but continues on. 

“Yeah. Why?” You flash a large grin, putting on your best ‘I’m a woman, I need help, please help me’ look. 

What? 

It’s worked before. 

“Great! I’ve just been struggling with hooking up my wifi cables to the outlet and it’s really frustrating and-” He cuts you off with a chuckle. “That’s the easiest thing setting up in the apartment.” You huff, but continue. 

“Well if it’s so easy, then it won’t take you long at all.” He chuckles, arms crossing over his chest as you’d taken notice of his more aware self stealing ‘sleepy’s’ spotlight. 

“What’s in it for me?” He teases, flashing a cheesy grin. You nod, trying to think of something a man would want. 

Other than that..

“Uhm- I could make you dinner?” He thinks for a second, before opening the door all the way. 

“Alright. Just lemme grab a shirt.” 

.

.

Jimin’s eyes take a few double takes around Y/n’s apartment. The tiny couch tucked in the corner, covered in plastic wrapping and dusty blankets. The cream colored high walls stood twice his size, and really? That was the only beautiful part about living in these shitty apartments. 

“So where’s the cable?” He questions, head craning a full 180 to observe the lack of decorations. She flashes a small, embarrassed grin while pointing to a separate selected room. His fingertips graze the surface of her marble countertops. Lifting his finger, he examines the light dusk bits his skin had picked up. He’s quick to wipe the dirt on the fabric of his jeans. 

“You know, the landlord said that the internet cable would be in the mainroom but-” 

“What the fuck..” His feet stop behind yours, observing the cramped space of your bathroom. 

He watches your nails reach behind your head, scratching as you let out a small chuckle. “Yeah..” 

He scoffs, eyes taut on the little internet box shoved on a low rickety shelf above the toilet. You bend down to meet his level, waiting for his next move. “Makes sense on why they knocked off a few bucks..” You laugh nervously, eyebrows knitting together in frustration. 

He lets out a short chuckle, reaching around to pull the plug. He rises to his feet, arms crossing over his chest. “What a bunch of idiots..” He mumbles, sighing. 

You rise as well, glancing up at his frustrated figure. “Anything I can do?” He stops running his hand through his black toussels, taking a glance at your way. 

“Yeah.” He comments, bending back down to reach into his toolbag. 

“Got any beer?”

.

.

You take in deep breath, knee tapping anxiously against your hardwood floors. You’d been waiting outside the bathroom for the past ten minutes. He offer to relocate the router so it wouldn’t be a future firehazard. You happily agreed, trusting his insticts. 

He was the man, anyways. 

Your nails had almost been cleaned right off from the tightness of your jaw nervously chewing on the poor things. Every few minutes you’d heard a sigh of frustration or mumbled curse as he’d been removing the wires from inside your walls. 

“Hey, wifey,” He yelps out. You’re quick to make your way into the small bathroom. 

“Need anything?” Your jaw drops at the sight. His tanned skin had glistened with a sheet of sweat, jet-black locks greased and pulled back to sit slick against the crown of his head. A few dry and perfectly good stragles make their debut on the slick of his forehead. His white shirt you’d seen his thrown on prior to coming over was drenched making the thin material completely see-through. 

He gripes, rising to his feet once more. His large hands held the tiny router in one, with wire cutter in the other. He chuckles, watching your eyes blow as wide as cartoon characters. 

“Might wanna close that mouth if you’re not gonna put it to good use, darling.” 

That-

Didn’t help. 

You’re quick to pull yourself from the train of spiral thoughts, nodding at his commentary. He lets out a short laugh, pushing the little router into your chest. You yelp a little ‘oof’, gripping onto the device. 

“What.. am I gonna do with this?” You ask, watching him packing the things in his toolbag, slinging it over his shoulder before replying with a smirk. 

“Replace it. Piece of crap is older than my mom's kimchi recipe.” He reaches upwards, stretching the length of his elongated spine. You silently gawk at the peak of skin underneath his shirt. He twists around, giving you a little smirk. 

“Dinner ready yet?” You shake your head, pointing at the clock on the wall. He glances over, reading the time set. 

6pm.

He scoffs, throwing his bag onto the floor to lean up against the edge of your little centered table. 

“Besides,” You add, finally having found your voice once more. You watch one of his darkened eyebrows quirk at the comment. 

“I asked you to fix it.” 

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t fix it.” 

He chuckles, leaning further into the table’s edge. “Can’t fix something I don’t have.” 

You pout, crossing your arms to match his. “Why don’t you have it?” 

“You don’t get it, do you?” He asks, leaning towards your direction to lazily tower over your figure. You back down, feeling his intense aura consume yours like a little bunny caught by the big bad wolf. 

“You need a new router, the other one won’t connect to the complex’s main central.” You watch his narrowed eyes soften upon seeing your intimidated ones. He sighs, carding a hand through his greasy locks, flipping his chin up to shake the entirety of his head. 

“Hardware store’s closed for today already. You can check tomorrow. If you order it online, it’ll take up to a week to have it shipped.” You huff, annoyed with the cursed thing. 

His smirk toys with your aggravated posture. 

“I don’t supposed you have an extra one?” You plead, flashing your most intense puppy-like eyes.He smirks, shaking his head.

“Nope, sorry, Wifey.” Your eyes flash up to meet him. 

“What’s with that?” His shoulders shrug, an innocent look splays his sharp features. You groan, walking away to tug the roots of your hair in frustration. You twist around, throwing yours hands down. 

“There’s NOTHING you can do?” He lifts from counter, slowly coasting his way to stalk your frame. He towers over you, a smirk plasters his features. 

“There’s alot I can do. But for that?” His finger points to the little old device on the counter where you’d placed it. 

“No can do.” 

You take in a deep breath as he makes his way to jump onto the counter’s surface, feet swinging back and forth like a little kid. He watches your features slowly fade from hopeful to hopeless in a matter of seconds. Your eyes quicken over the area of your apartment, as if he could almost see the little gears trying to push their way to start. 

After a while of pacing and panic, you’d just settled on giving into fate. “Alright.” You sigh, slowing your paces to a stop. Your eyes glance up, seeing him propping himself back on the heels of his palms, an amused smirk paints his face. 

“Still up for dinner?” 

.

.

“Not very wifely of you, Y/n.” He comments, stuffing a face full of the hot rice you’d ordered for him. 

“I’m not trying to be wifely, Jimin.” He chuckles at that. 

You’d settled for just ordering in. So here you sat, using the flat of your old couch as a backrest as the two of you sat on the hardwood floor eating sticky rice and crunchy chicken you’d gotten from the place across from your apartment. 

“I like that.” Your head cranes, giving him a questioning look.

“Like what?” 

He grins, taking another bite of his largely portioned rice bowl.

“When you say my name.” 

You chuckle, clicking the remote to find something to entertain this kind of awkward situation. You feel him shift a bit, crossing his legs to get into a more relaxed position. 

“So,” he starts, digging in the little to-go box for the last of his rice. His voice strings with casualty and familiarity which he laced to ease this into a more comfortable atmosphere for the both of you. 

“Why this shithole?” You chuckle, reflecting back on the selection process you’d forced yourself to go through. 

“It was kind of an emergency situation. I wanted to come here for animation and graphic designs.. But, I had to move out quickly.” His eyebrow quirks at the questioning sentence. 

“Why?” 

You sigh, fingertip grazes over the ridges of your hardwood floor. Should you really be letting an almost stranger know so much about your personal affairs?

Well, you two were neighbors now. 

“Stuff just got too complicated in my house.” He nods, not wanting to pry on more of the obvious still fresh wound. His throat clears, as he begins clearing your table of the plastic wrappers and trash. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I got kicked from my own house.” You chuckle, head turning to face him. “Really? What could you possibly have done?” He laughs, leaning back against the couch’s front. 

“What? Don’t think I’d get into trouble?” Your head shakes at his question. “Frankly, you look like a cinnamon roll.” He chuckles, taking a sip of his soju. 

“Oh really?” He leans in further, the pad of his lips brushes your ear’s shell. Hot breaths roll past your heating cheeks. His voice is low and sensual now. 

“I mean- you just like blacks, right?” He chuckles at that. He reaches out, ruffling your hair between his fingers.

“You’re cute.”

.

.

“Oh fuck..” He moans out, hand palming himself over the clad of his boxer-briefs. His body, slung forward, propped up to leave the back of his chair lonely and cold. His chin tilts upwards, eyes focused on the bright of his screen. 

“Mmmm just like that, baby” He groans, free hand gripping the edge of his chair, knuckles hueing to a white tint at the pressure. He watches the woman drop the fabrics of her remaining clothing items. Her pink, basic underwear slipped from the waist of her tight skin. 

“Yeahhh” His heavy moans pant at the sight of the beautiful woman exposing herself for the camera. His palm wrapped around the base, a slow pace up and down the length of his throbbing cock. His sweaty bangs come to fly forward before sticking to the damped of his forehead. His mouth stifles sounds that would be a one-way ticket to hell.

Oh, how he wished she'd caress her breasts.  

His eyes focus on the way her hair falls out of its messy bun to cascade down the beautiful plains of her back. A small, cursive tattoo sits atop the nape of her neck. The little decoration only furthers him deeper into his state of temporary euphoria. 

The soap slides down her body, grime and grease being removed from even the most difficult crevasse. Suds and white foam paint a thin sheet over the bare of her entire frame. His hips slightly raise out of control at the sight. The red and angered tip of his cock leaks a thick string of pre-cum from his slit. 

Her hand reaches out to steady herself, making sure she doesn’t slip from the sudsy shower floor. Her long, manicured nails made him wish she’d ruin his back with them. Red scratches running up along the plains of his shoulder blades only edged him on further.

His balls tighten, warning him of his nearing end. He groans out, leaning back against his gaming chair as he lifts a leg to prop up on the desk, showing the invisible camera on his computer all of his lengthy and girthy glory. After a few minutes of slowed strokes, his balls ached with pain. 

He loved it.

His hand wrapped around his cock picks up the pace. Body practically leaping from his seat. 

“Fuck!” He moans out, lips dropping to form an O-shape as a string of hot cum shoots onto the towel that he’d held to his tip right before blowing his load.

He clicks a few buttons, watching as the camera zooms in at the perfect time. She’d finished up, exiting the shower to wrap a warm and fuzzy looking lengthy towel around her fitted body. The steam had fogged the glass mirror above the sink, but the camera still stood clear as fresh water. 

The cameraman had cleverly sprung for the fog-avoidant cameras.

He, being the cameraman..

.

.

You reach over, answering the incoming call that had rung for the past few seconds. You hug the portion of your towel to your body, clinging it as to not accidentally flash a single soul. An all-too-cheery voice answers. 

“Y/n! So, I was thinking- We never really decided on a place to eat at.” He pouts, a teasing tone peaks his expressions. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could see the child-like boxy smile he’d always sport. 

You decide to have a little fun with your new found friend. “I’m sorry- Who’s this?” You could hear the hurt in his voice. 

“It’s Taehyung.. Already forgot about me, huh?” You giggle, throwing the phone onto your bed after pressing the speaker button. 

“I’m playing with you Taehyung.” He huffs. “Not very funny of a joke, ma’am.” He retorts, making you snicker at the nickname. 

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry Taehyung-ie. How about I make it up to you?” His voice cheers up quickly, amusement peaking his interests.

“And how would you do that, milady?” His voice sports a gentleman-y, british accent as if he’d been just brought out of a shakespeare play. 

You throw on a quick T-shirt before sprawling out on your bed. ���Well, how about coming over tonight? I could make us some coffees.. Or I’ve got wine too.” He sucks in a breath, a saddened tone controls his voice. 

“Sorry, can’t tonight. Dad’s got me working extra hours all over Seoul, I’m not even home yet.” You pout, toying with your little anxiety ring you’d gotten from a friend back home. 

“Oh, okay then.” You’re quick to flip over, getting into a more comfortable position on your back. You stare up at the ceiling while talking with your only friend. 

“So, how is work?” Before you get a response you hear a loud crash on the other end. 

“Shit- I have to go, Y/n. Bye!”

“Oh oka-” 

He ends the call.

You sigh, rolling back and forth on the surface of your bed. You’d still been on Chicago’s clock, so you were wide awake right now. Your eyes roll at the time blinking on your nightstand’s alarm clock. 

12:39AM.

You needed to get to sleep. You KNEW you needed to get to sleep. But, your body had different plans. You decide to roll yourself out of bed, making your way to the little walk in closet right before the front door. You slide on your little fuzzy boots and a pair of sweatpants before walking out the door. 

“Oh!” You turn around, seeing Jimin leaning outside of his front door to drop off the trash in the hallway. You run up, catching him before he has the chance to slip back into his dungeon. 

“Hey-” You call, flashing him a warm smile. 

He slams the door in your face. 

Your frown reappears, sighing. 

What was everyone’s problem with you?

You were about to continue on your journey for late night convenient store snacks, but something inside of you had irked to get a hi from him still. So, you knock on his door. 

No answer. 

“Come on, Jimin. I know you’re in there!” You call out, banging on his door now. After a few minutes and a rude comment from a neighbor telling you in a very passive way to ‘shut up’ he’d finally opened the door. You push right through, hands on your hips to signal off confidence. 

“Y/n what do you-”

“Why didn’t you say hello back?” He shakes his head, not following. 

“What do you mean-” 

“I just said hi to you, and you slammed the door in my face!” He chuckles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“I just woke up.” Somehow, you don’t believe that. 

Your stupid self decides to rummage through his things. 

“Oh really?” You walk yourself over to his desk and gaming chair, feeling the monitor’s heat. “Hmm, computer’s still warm.” You comment, accidentally bumping the mouse with your wrist. The screen lights up, as your face drains with color. 

A bunch of women barely dressed on a leopard-print bed, hands rubbing and touching all over each other while some had fully been going down on one another. 

You could hear a dark chuckle in Jimin’s voice. A body comes up behind yours, towering your frame from backing.

“Caught me.” He whispers,fingertips trailing up the skin of your arms. You flinch, backing away from his touches as he lets out a laugh. “What? Aw, I’m just having a little fun with you.” He flashes you a cheeky wink as you try and calm your beating heart. 

“I– Sorry. I-I’ll just leave now-” He chuckles, opening the door wide. As you make your way through the exit, he leaves a few words to trail in your ears.

.

.

For the past few days you’d been bickering with Taehyung over where to go. Since you both were in moving saving mode, you decided to just cook up a nice dinner and watch a movie instead. 

You’re almost done putting the final touches on the dessert pie until you heard the doorbell ring. Walking past, you reach down to fluff a few pillows on your couch before answering. You crack the door open, a wide smile plastered onto your face until you’d seen who was behind it. 

“You..” He chuckles. 

“Me.” 

Franky you’d been avoiding Jimin for the past two days. Ever since your jet-lagged brain decided it was a good idea to march into his apartment and check out his browsing history, things had been pretty awkward between the two of you. 

Well, just for you. 

“I’ve got something.” He teases, holding his hands behind his back. You nod, keeping him outside of the door. “Uhm can it wait ‘til later? I’m kinda busy..” He pushes past your shoulders before you could even protest. 

“Payback, wifey.” A smirk tugs the corner of his lips as he holds out the tiny box on front of you. 

“Take a guess.” 

You sigh, shrugging. “I don’t know.” 

“That’s the whole point of taking a guess. You’re really bad at this game.” He chuckles, swinging the little box in his grasp. 

“I don’t know, Jimin.” He groans, pouting. “You’re no fun.” He unboxes the object, holding it out to show you. 

“I still don’t get what it is.” He shakes his head, obviously annoyed by your adituttde. 

“Fine, then I guess you don’t need the router.” Your eyes widen. 

“Wait!” You reach out to pause his actions, making him smirk. “Oh now you answer me.” He chuckles, setting the little device on your kitchen counter. 

His eyes take a glance to the kitchen table, feasting upon the delicious, mouth-watering platters and bowls filled with some of his favorites. 

“Ah, good! You remembered our deal.” Your eyes look at the food, then back to him to quickly shake your head. 

“Uh no- actually-”

Ding.

Dong.

.

.

Jimin’s eyebrow quirks at the revealment of the guy behind your apartment door. Taehyung’s bright and boxy smile soon drops as his eyes land upon the strange man in your livingroom. The newly dyed locks tinted with colors of the sky had shifted from their styled position. 

“Who’s this?” Taehyung comments, questioning the new man. Jimin’s lips tug more into a smirk at his confusion. 

“Her cousin.” Jimin retorts, watching as you flash him a ‘what?!’ look. Taehyung’s eyebrows knit in confusion as Jimin’s quick to correct himself with a light chuckle.

“Distant.” 

You let out a nervous chuckle at his words. 

Shit.

.

.

The dinner table felt like a couffin. Suffocating and awkwardly tight. Hadn’t helped that your little circular table could barely fit two people, much less three.You had tried to kick him out, really you did. But he had been too stubborn, pulling up his own make shift seat of your lidded trash can to support on. The smug and tight grin on Jimin’s lips had made your jaw clench with annoyance. Taehyung’s quick to clear the thick air, along with his throat. 

“So, Y/n. How do you feel about sea animals?” He smiles, trying to ignore the elephant in the room. 

Your mouth falls open to answer, but the slick circles drawn against your thigh halts you.. You take a glance over, Jimin on the sidelines taking a large bite of his pork and rice, completely unfazed by the situation. The tense of his right arm doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand slipped up the space of your dress, caressing your knee before rising his touch higher. 

Your eyes flash back to Taehyung’s who had a questioning look. You let out a loud chuckle, trying to shift your leg away from Jimin’s fingers as your answer. 

“Love ‘em.” You flash him a quick smile. He returns the little expression, a relaxed ease sets upon him. 

You? Not so much. 

“Well what about getting a little wet?” Taehyung quirks, leaning a little closer to make his voice clear. 

Jimin’s fork swirls around the surface of his plate, a bored expression plasters his features as he cuts in. “Easy.” You feel the tips of his fingers drag along the heat of your skin, resting on the outers of your underwear. His index finger presses slightly against your soaking panties, your lips fall to form a small O-shape. Thighs squeezing together at the sensation. 

“I don’t think she minds getting wet.” Jimin comments, an unamused expression toys his features as he takes a sip of his soju. You nod, shifting slightly in your seat, which in turn had made Jimin’s touch fall further in the gap of your thighs. His fingertips tease your clothed heat, a silent moan rumbles from the deep of your chest. 

“Perfect!” He turns his reach into his pocket, pulling out two pieces of thick paper. “The new aquarium in Incheon just opened. I was hoping you and I could maybe go tomorrow?” You nod, trying your best to stay silent. Jimin’s touch lingers on the outerparts of your heat, silently commanding you to beg him. 

You weren’t. 

Your grin follows the sweet tone in your voice you’d forced yourself to keep, even though everything in your body had been screaming to do quite the opposite. 

“So Taehyung,” Jimin comments, sliding the fabrics of your underwear to the side, carding one finger through your slick folds teasingly. Taehyung’s head tilts, smiling friendly even though he’d been quite disappointed in Jimin’s unannounced presence. 

“Yeah?” He questions. Jimin shifts, crossing one leg over the other to make himself appear smaller. 

Though, his actions had been quite the opposite. 

“How’d you two lovebirds meet?” He asks, quietly catching the way your chest tightens as his finger teases your entrance, coating the digit in your juices. A smirk presses his lips. 

Taehyung chuckles, a shy glance directed to you. “Well, here actually.” Jimin faints a forced interested look, nodding at the stupid interaction. 

“Yeah, my dad had hired me for his moving service for the summer before I go back to college so I could make some more money. I had helped her move in, then shot my shot.” You fight back a moan, letting out a sharp breath as he inserted the length of his finger past your velvet walls. Your hands reach out, one catching on Jimin’s forearm to steady yourself. Silently begging for him to stop so you could enjoy your date with Taehyung. 

Jimin nods, almost making your loose it when his finger starts to pump in and out of you at a teasingly slow rate. His eyes narrowed, getting bored with Taehyung’s little story. 

“Hah, how funny.”Though his words matched his features, his tone had not. A cold and hardly-entertained looks paces his face. 

Taehyung mentally groans at Jimin’s pulsing bicep. He stands, pushing hismelf away from the table with force. You startle, eyebrows meeting in concern. 

“Taehyung what’s-” 

“You know, it’s kind of common courtesy not to let your neighbor finger fuck you while you’re on a date with another guy.” Jimin smirks at his words, releasing you in his grip, watching as you rise to meet Taehyung’s level. 

“Y-You kne-” 

"Of course I fucking knew, Y/n. I helped him install his gaming setup when he moved in.” Your head cranes to Jimin, seeing the cocky grin upon his features. Turning back, your eyes meet Taehyung’s. His burned with anger and fury. 

“Taehyung I’m so sorry-” He chuckles, scoffing with a harsh tone. 

“My thing isn’t that he was groping you on our date, Y/n. It’s the fact that you lied to me.” Your heart aches at his words. Your feet close the space between you and him, but he backs away. 

“Don’t, Y/n. And you.” His eyes narrow to Jimin who’d shifted to your seat to lean back. Leg crossed over the other, while his shiny finger had been popped into the crease of his mouth. Taehyung’s hands fist at the sight. 

“Dick move, Jimin.” 

With that, Taehyung storms out. You tried following him down the hall, but he had been too fast for your7-inch heels to catch up with. You let out a silently breath, leaning up against your front door. 

Your eyes land crack open to land upon Jimin’s laxed figure. He’d risen to lean up against the back of your couch, arms crossing his chest. He shakes his head, smirking. 

“Not cool, Y/n.” Your fists clench at his cocky tone. 

“Get out.” You command, swinging the door open to lead him. He shakes his head, making his way to the door, walking out. 

.

.

“Over here!” You wave, signaling your location through this messy crowd. He makes a beeline to your table before sitting down quietly. A silence had drawn out for far too long. You take notice in the tanned, unusual overcoat he’d thrown over his white button up and navy blue suit pants. Black loafers to compliment his whole attire. 

“Thanks for meeting with me..” You let out a deep breath, trying to break the awkward silence between the two of you. He nods, eyes glancing around the restaurant to look anywhere but your pleading self. 

“You’ve got a probem with lying, Y/n.” He comments coldly. You could do nothing but nod, agreeing with his harsh but true words. 

‘I know.. Taehyung I’m so sorry for lying to you.” You lean forwards, trying to catch his gaze. He’d done a pretty good job of ignoring you for the past few weeks. 27 missed calls and 14 text messages later, he’d finally caved in and agreed to meet you at the little cafe you’d originally planned to meet at for your first date. 

His arms fold across his chest,, leaning back to entertain your guilt. “Go on.” 

Your fingers clench around the mug, toying with the warmed handle from the hot joe inside. “I shouldn’t have lied to you about him being my cousin. It was stupid, anyways.” You let out a short chuckle, feeling the atmosphere soften just a bit. 

“Indeed.” He still holds onto his firm and upset composure. You push the basket of break rolls to his side, a silent peace offering sits in front of him. 

“I do like you, Taehyung. You’re really sweet, and kind and always so considerate of others-” He chuckles, scoffing at your generic sayings. 

“Sounds more like a breakup rehearsal than an apology.” You nod, hitting your head at the stupid comments. 

“What I’m getting at is; I never should’ve let Jimin do any of that. He was honestly just there to replace my wifi router, swear!” He leans forward, studying your features for any sign of a lie. When he finds none, he returns to his slouched posture taking a sip from his wine glass he’d ordered. 

“Then why did you?” His question throws you off. 

Why did you let him touch you like that? Get away with it…

 Let it go so far.

Taehyung scoffs at your silence. His feet shift, eyebrows raised with sarcasm. His tone lowers, mumbling into the bottom of his wine glass. “Silence of the lamb.” 

You sigh, banging your head gently onto the tale before raising up. He takes pity on yourself, deciding to ease you. 

“Do you like him?” Your head shakes. 

“Liar.” 

“I’m not lying!” 

“Then tell me,” He leans closer, closing the large, table-sized gap between the two of you. 

"Would you have let me do that then?” Your pussy clenches at the thought, Taehyung’s slender fingers thrusting themselves deep against your slick walls, hand cupped over your mouth to shut you up from the ears of others.

Your lips fall flat. Eyes looking at Taehyung, imaging him doing all of those things, 

Yet, when you’re thinking of moaning his name, all you can hear is..

“Jimin.” He states coldly, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. If green was jealousy’s color, he’d been a fucking broccoli stalk.

You shake your head, flushing the stupid thoughts from your mind. Your hand reaches out, eyes shading darker to his narrowed ones. You lean closer, brushes of hot air roll past his cheek onto the shell of his ear. 

“I want you.”

.

.

His dark chuckle stripes the atmosphere from the sexy and alluring scene you’d tried to play. He toys back, giving barely any attention to your neediness. 

“Oh really?” You nod, hand reaching down to palm at the forming tent between his thighs. His lips roll out a soft grunt at the touch. 

“How much.” He demands, warm hands coming to rub on the balls of your knees. Your lips brush the outer of his reddened ear, tongue poking the sensitive. You moan, sending the thin skin vibrating in waves. 

“So badly.” 

.

.

“Oh fuck-” You moan out, hands gripping onto the skin of his back for a false safety. Nails digging and scratching at the rededened the bare complexion. Your tongue grazes his lips, before he takes you in his reach to swallow yourself whole. Hands roaming each other like wild animals in some kind of feral heat. The headboard claps against the wall’s poor dimensions, securing the dents and markings that were sure to follow tomorrow’s awakening. His voice deepens with each passing, passionate second. 

“Shit!” His lips fall to a large O-shape, uncontrollably snapping his hips into yours. His large frame towers over yours, leaning down to plant heavily sloppy kisses to the base of your neck. 

“Mmm, gonna cum-” His raspy voice thickens, becoming easily weary of his nearing climax. You could feel the way his throbbing cock pulses in the depths of you, as yourself had been efforting the same pulse around his meaty cock. 

“Oh God-” You head falls back, arms catching yourself onto his neck to make sure you remain unscathed. Your legs wrapped around his waist, sucking his girth into yourself to your limit. His large banded arms coil around your smaller frame, pulling your body flushed against his. A few gruff and loud moans here to there, shared between the two of you. Soon, you’d felt the rushing wave of pure ecstasy coarse through your frame. His sweaty form drops onto the length of you, heavy pants exile his chest from the intense session. You glance down, seeing the blonde and greasy locks blocking his features. 

“Jimin!?”

.

.

Your body jolts itself awake, propping up like a doll with a metal pole as its spine. Your chest heaves with heaviness and anxiety as shock flushes your system from its previous ecstatic state. You find your hand slunk down into the space of your mini shorts, fingers pressed against your aching bud. Memories from the day’s events had coarse your mind like a taunting, awaiting jack-in-the-box. 

He pushes your body away from his own, hands releasing the tight grip you’d formed around his hardened length. Your frame falls backwards, catching itself right before impact. He stands, a furious aura surrounds his whole once bright and soft figure. 

“Good-bye, Y/n.” 

You groan, rolling over to reach for the pillow, suffocating yourself with the plush object. You head spins with uncertainty. You felt like shit. 

Your feet land on the floor, guiding you unconsciously to the self-indulgent kitchen you’d stocked. The darkness that floods your apartment had been good for keeping to yourself, not having to worry about anything else you had to get done, until you wake up for work in a few hours. 

“Morning.” A sudden voice becks out from the silence. You’re quick to land your grip on a steak knife from the counter, waving it blindly in the abyss for protection. His chuckle makes your heaty drop into your stomach. 

“Put that away before you hurt yourself, wifey.” You groan, tossing the sharp object into the sink, reaching out to find the light switch. His cocky smile makes your teeth grind with frustration. 

“How the hell did you get into my apartment?” You scoff, watching as he points his index finger to the wide open door. 

“You left it unlocked.” Your arms cross, a narrowing look paints your tired and gaunt features. His wide and torturous smile makes your stomach bubble. 

“Enjoy your sleep?” He questions, reaching over to put the bowl of cereal he’d made himself into the left side of your sink. 

“Did, until you came.” He chuckles, stalking your figure before he’s standing right infront of you. “Really? Cause it looked like you were wide awake before I even got here.” Scoffing, you push at his chest making him stumble back a bit to catch himself. 

“Go home, Jimin.” You make your way to the fridge to place the milk back on the shelf. He follows, hoping up onto your counter like a kid. 

“Don’t wanna.” You huff, slamming the cabinet. 

“Go. Home.” You repeat, already tired of his shinannigains. He leans closer, meeting your gaze. 

“I. Don’t. Want. To.” 

“Wasn’t. A. Question.” You retort, making him smirk. 

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Your eyes lull to the back of your head at his shameless attempt. 

“And you’d be really cute with this knife shoved in your thick head.” He laughs, raising an eyebrow up in questioning. 

“So you think I’m cute?”

You scoff, eyes rolling. “Not in the slightest.” He hums, tilting his head before following you into your room. 

“But you said really, which means that I was just cute before. So therefore, you think I’m cute.” You plop down on your bed, body feeling extremely heavy from your sleep-deprived state. 

“Not listening, I’m sleeping.” He chuckles, scooting his way over to your side of the bed to lay next to you. His arm rests under his head for support. 

A few moments of silence flows by before he continues. “Didn’t know you were such a daredevil.” You sit up, giving him a stern look. 

“I’m not.” 

He chuckles, shrugging. “Really? Cause letting a stranger finger you while you’re on a date sure sounds like something a daredevil would do.” Your eyes roll, pushing his frame away with the soles of your feet. 

“Get out of here, Jimin. Why did you even come in the first place?” He smirks, walking around to the side of your bed, kneeling in front of your pillow cover face that’d been hanging off your bed’s edge. 

“Why, I heard my name of course.” Your eyebrow quirks at his words. “Oh yeah? Who called you.”

A devilish grin toys the corner of his lips. He lowers his voice to a deep tone, much like the one you’d heard earlier in your little escapade-like dream. 

“You did.” You let out a sharp chuckle. “Me?” He nods, making the fits of laughters wash in waves even more. Once you’ve settled down, you can clear the air. 

“Hate to break it to ya loverboy, but I was sleeping if you couldn’t already tell.” 

He lowers himself to meet your level once more. Hands slid into the fronts of his jean pockets, blonde locks falling to the sides of his face to frame his features perfectly. 

“I’m aware.” 

Your eyes narrow, not following in his little innuendos. He reads your expression, and decided to elaborate some more. 

“Well, these were more along the lines of ‘Jimin’.” He mocks a woman high-pitched moan, head thrown back to add a dramatically erotic effect. 

“Yeah right, like I did anything like tha-” 

“Oh Jimin! Oh fuck ah- Mmm, gonna cum!..” Your eyes widen like saucers at the little sounds. Eyes training upon the little cellphone held in his hands, showing you the recorded melody. His smirk never faulters from amusement of you. 

“You were saying?” 

Your body froze. That had for sure been your voice. Hell, it even showed a sliver of your bedroom for a second. You had been sprawled out on your bed, covers thrown off as your hand had been stuffed into the lining of your underwear. Thighs trembling to signal your nearing climax. 

You. Were. Mortified. 

“I- Well that- My dog-” The longer you’d tried to come up with an excuse, the stupider you sounded. He chuckles, tilting his head back while holding his stomach. 

“Your dog?” His eyes well into little crescent shaped moons, irises disappearing from sight. 

“The only bitch in heat my dear, is you.” You groan, reminding yourself later to go jump off Seoul’s largest bridge. 

“I called out your name,” He starts, sitting on the edge of the bed to slide his phone back into his pocket. He chuckles, remembering your sleep-induced reaction. 

“But you just got louder.” You grab the nearest pillow and start suffocating yourself. He laughs, prying the beautiful death away from your grasp. 

“Hey, you saw my porn collection.” He teases, poking at your side to try and get you to laugh this off like friends would. 

“Yeah, but it’s not me!” His body stiffens at the words. Lowering his tone, he mumbles.

“It might.” 

You sigh, wanting the earth to swallow you whole. You take the pillow from his grip, digging your face into the soft plush once more. “Just let me die.” He smiles, tugging the pillow from you once more. 

“Nah, I’m not into that necrophilia shit.” You huff, pulling your knees up to hide your face in. He leans closer, brushing a few strands of  hair from your vision. 

“Guess this means we’re even now, huh?” You chuckle along with him, cheeks still burning with embarrassment. 

“Was quite a unique sight.” He sighs, taking the pillow to tuck it under his clasped arms. Leaning back, he supports his weight against your headboard while continuing. 

“Never seen a girl masturbate to me.” You scoff, not believing that for a damn second. “Yeah right.” His torso twists to face you, giggling. 

“It’s true.” 

“No girlfriend?” 

He shakes his head. “They just wanted sex. Nothing else.” You shift, not really knowing what to respond to that. 

“They also thought I was weird..” Your head cranes, tilting to listen better. “Why?” 

His hands fidget between the thick of his thighs, shrugging. “I liked taking photos.” You smile, laughing. 

“Everybody does. Photography’s a very popular hobby nowadays-”

“Of them.” 

“Well yeah, you like to remember the fun times you had with loved ones-”

“Naked.” 

Yeah, you had no counter for that one. 

He chuckles, a tint of red flushes his cheeks. “See? You think it’s weird too.” Your head hesitantly shakes, denying it. 

“No- It’s just- I wasn’t expecting it.” He sighs, leaning his head back against your headboard. “I just think that women’s bodies are exquisite.” You chuckle, nudging his arm. 

“Large word for a small guy.” His eyes flash towards yours, suddenly not so bright eyed and puppy-like. 

“Think I’m small?”

You nod. “You’re not that big of a guy. Taehyung’s much larger-” He’s quiet to flip you on your stomach, sitting atop your lower back while holding your arm behind yourself. 

“Can still do this, though.” He smirks. 

“Yah! Get off me!” He chuckles, leaning down to brush the pads of his lips to your skin, ghosting your heated body. 

“No.” 

“Yaaaah Jimin, my baaack!” You groan, muffling your noises into the pillow below you. A smile creeps his lips, before he’s rising off from you. You groan, sitting up to speak. 

“Yah, that really hurt du- Jimin?” As quick as he’d left, he’s right back at the end of your bed, This time, sporting an old polaroid in his right hand. Your eyebrows raise in confusion. 

“What’s that for?” He smirks, edging himself closer to you on the bed. His proximity makes you fall back onto the bed as he towers your frame, camera still firmly held in his hands. 

“Mind being my model?” You laugh, hands pressing at his chest as he leans back to sit atop your lap. 

“For?” 

His eyes glance up, taking a peak from filling his camera with film. His blonde locks fall loosely infront of his vision, making the scene so much more intense.

“Me.” 

“Well of course you, idiot.” He smiles, wiping the camera lens with the thin of his black T-shirt, lifting the material up to give you a little peak of his softly defined abs. 

“I don’t need you jacking off to them.” He quirks, taking a glance to look back up to you. “You jacked off to me.” Your mouth falls to answer, but then shuts. He smirks, taking your silence as a win. 

“Just lift your top a bit.” He teases, holding the camera up to his face, peaking out the little lens. You laugh, bucking your hips up to try and nudge him off of your small frame. 

“Oh come on, Y/n. I feel violated.” He pouts, lip-quivering in a fake pained expression. 

“What? How so.” He whines, shifting on your lap like a little kid. 

“You violated my privacy. Barged into my apartment, and went through my laptop. Sexual harassment at it’s finest.” You scoff, eyes rolling at his stupid reasoning. 

“Your laptop was already on. And I’ve never sexually harassed you. If anything, that shit you pulled at the dinner table was sexual harassment.” He smiles, using his free finger to tilt your head to the side, getting a better angle. 

“Part your lips.” 

“Jimin I’m not doing this.” 

“Open your mouth or I’m gonna tie you to this bed and slip a vibrator into your panties. And take pictures of that instead.” Your eyes widen at his choice of words, suddenly feeling the room heat from his proximate figure sat atop you. 

He smirks, moving a few strands from your vision, while positioning your hair a bit to get a nice shot. Your mouth had opened slightly from shock, which he took as a chance to snap a little picture. 

“Got it.” He smiles, hiding the little sheet of film under the nearest pillow. 

“I’m pretty sure this is sexual harassment.” 

He chuckles, reloading for another shot. “Not harassment if you’re enjoying it.” 

“Now who made up that rule?” A devilish smile crack his straightened lips.

“I did.”

He reaches down, flashing you to the little polaroid picture from a few seconds ago. 

“Wow..” You gawk, admiring the beautiful position he’d moved you to. Pieces of your messy hair falls into your forehead, framing your face perfectly. The lack of light plus his flash had made this simple photo look like a work of art. 

“Natural beauty.” He picks up the camera once more, pulling the picture away to get another shot. 

“Okay you’ve had your fu-” 

“I think you’d look better tied up.” He giggles, scooting off of your body to sit on the side. He stands, walking to your closet to rummage through your things. 

“Hey, I didn’t give you-” 

“Perfect!” He holds out a silky tie that you’d forgotten to give back to your ex. The silky red material dangles loosely in his grip as he makes his way over to set himself next to your laid out figure. 

“Hands?” 

Your arms reach out, giving full access to whatever he wanted of you. The motion makes him smile, patting your head. 

“Good girl.” 

“Jimin it’s almost morning-” His eyes glance towards you, previously focused on binding your hands together. “So?” 

“So- I need you to let me up.” He chuckles, motioning down to your figure.

“I’m not holding you down.” 

He’s right. You’d been giving him permission to do all of this. You were the one who didn’t want it to secretly end. 

He reaches up, loosely tying your hands above your head to bind them to your grid headboard. He picks up his camera from off the side once more, holding it up to his face to angle it down your way. 

“Smile for me.” You shake your head, not being in the mood. 

“Smile.” 

He reaches down, tickling at your side torturously. Your head throws back, mouth popping wide open at the giddy sensation. One flash of his camera later, he throws the little old device to the side. 

“You’ve got an adorable smile.” He coos, hovering over your locked in figure. A rosy tint paints your cheeks. 

“Thanks..” 

His lips lower, bushing the soft skin of your forehead before dragging the back down a bit, mumbling something sweet. 

“Mine.” 

.

.

The smell of freshly baked bread waffs through your apartment. Your counters had been filled with sweet and gooey treats. Your whole upperhalf had been dusted heavily with flour and egg whites. Though it had taken almost 5 hours, you’d finally baked all of the necessary goodies you needed. 

You walk yourself through all of the desserts, making sure you hadn’t missed a single thing. “Pudding, cherry pie, hotteoks, creme brulee..” You sigh in satisfaction, admiring all of your hard work. 

You glance down, seeing your messy and caked in self. A chuckle exiles past your lips. Making your way to the bathroom, you’d just taken off your sweater before hearing the doorbell sound off. 

Walking over, you try fixing your hair best as you could before opening the door. 

“Welcome.” You swing the door wide, allowing the man to enter. 

“Thank you.” He takes in a deep breath, sighing at the delectable aroma. You take his coat, hanging it on the rack before leading him to the dining table. 

“Smells amazing.” You smile, silently patting yourself on the back for his commentary. 

“This way. I- Didn’t know what you preferred, so I just made all of them..?” He chuckles, making his way through your living room to sit upon the balcony’s patio. You’re quick to bring the treats out, only taking two round trips before settling yourself in the seat across from him. His dark button up, and white, creamish dress pants had made him look even more elegant than ever. 

“So, how's the progress going?” He questions, as you sigh in relief. 

‘It’s going great. The product’s development is really coming along. I could even move the release date up a month.” He smiles, watching as your delicate hands cut a few slices of the pie for the two of you. His large hand comes to cover yours, stopping your motions gently. 

“Y/n.. You didn’t have to make all of this. I would’ve been fine with cough drops for all I care.” You giggle,  shaking your head. 

“You’ve been a huge stepping stone in getting my stuff out there… I owe you.” He smiles, his face coming to close the distance between the two of you. His breath mixes with your own, a different kind of feeling settles over the scene. 

His voice lowers, but a bare whisper. “Y/n..” 

A brightly lit flash of light separates the two of you quickly. “Annnddd, got it. See Y/n? Told you you’re photogenic.” Jimin’s face scrunches at the picture. “Mmm, you bro? Not so much.” 

“Jimin!” You gripe, standing to push him out of your apartment. 

“What? Just trying to capture nature’s beauties.” He leans to the side, sending your co-worker a narrowed glance. “And.. uglies.” 

“Jimin, I’m in the middle of something!” Your voice lowered so he couldn’t hear. A deep chuckle exiles his chest. A hand places itself upon your shoulder, making Jimin’s fist clench in silent anger. The man’s hand extends outwards, offering Jimin a passive shake. 

“I’m Namjoon.” Jimin smirks, taking his hand in a firm shake. 

“Nice to meet you.” You sigh, rubbing your temples from frustration. 

“Jimin could you please just leave? I’ve got to discuss some things with Namjoon.” Jimin huffs silently, quirking his eyebrows. 

“Nah, Think I’ll stay.” He plops onto your couch, crossing one leg over the other in a relaxed position. You were about to protest but a beep cuts you off. 

“Ah, sorry Y/n. It’s Eleana, I’ve gotta get going.” He’s quick to make his way to the door, grabbing his trench coat from the rack. He throws it over his figure. 

“Wait- Who’s Eleana?” You call out, making your way over to his spot. He fixes the collar of his button up, tightening his tie. 

“She’s with High Lines. She’s our rep, but the bidders aren’t biting so she’s calling me in to sweet talk ‘em.” He calls out, making his way quickly down the hallway before turning around. 

“Thanks for the pie!” 

You wave, smiling brightly as he leaves. Once he’s completely out of sight, you slam the door, huffing from frustration. 

“Jeez, Y/n. So desperate.” He teases, taking a bite from the apple displayed in the bowl set on your counter. You turn around, ears -would be- steaming from anger. 

“I am NOT desperate!” He leans back from your volume, covering his ears to shield them from your anger. 

“I was trying to have a nice dinner with a coworker-” 

“Who you wanna fuck.” 

“And eat some pie with him-”

“Who you wanna fuck.” 

“And then a stupid photography student had to barge in and ruin my damn day!” 

He smirks, dragging out his words. “Who you want to fuck.” 

Your fists clench at your sides, face reddening from fury. You reach over for the throw pillow, putting its name to good use. He’s quick to dodge, laughing at your sad attempt. 

“And what’s with you, huh!? One minute you’re completely avoiding me and the next you’re trying to take nude photos of me?!” He goes silent, slowly reaching forwards to take a bite of one of the hotteok you'd made. 

“Been deciding.” He comments, licking his thumb clean of the chocolate. 

“On what.” You gripe, going to clean up the kitchen in anger. He hops off the counter, placing himself behind, gently slowly moving your movements to a halt before he has his hands on each side of your hips. His front gently presses against your back, his warm breath coming to creep up behind your ear like a little kid on halloween. 

“On you.” 

You turn to turn around to face him, but his hands steady your hips preventing you. Your head lulls back, originally trying to talk to him but he’d taken the opportunity to press wet kisses to the side of your neck. Your lips part, a soft moan escapes into the thin air. His hands follow the lines of your body, reaching forwards to cup your breasts. 

“You smell like cookies.” He whispers, making you laugh. 

“Gee, I wonder why?” He chuckles, twisting your body around to press flush against his. You two had been in the most intimate embrace of a lifetime. Your arms coiled around his neck, his hands settled back to steady your hips. His forehead nudges closer, pressing against your to tease your lips with his breath. 

Your voice softens, “That tickles..” He smiles, back the two of you into the counter. “Mmm, ticklish?” He wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you up in one swoop to set you down on the counter. He plants himself between your widened legs, hands resting on the small of your waist. 

“Have you no memory of last night?” His head tilts, faking a confused expression. “Mmmm, remind me.” You laugh, going to unwrap your arms from his but he’s swift to scoop you up bridal style. 

“Or, shall I remind you.” 

.

.

Your pushed back into the soft plush of your bedsheets. The cream colored fabrics jumping in alignment with your bounce when pressure is applied. His body stalks yours, leaning over you like a falling Jenga tower.

"Jimin are we-" His finger comes to press against your lips, quieting your rambling mouth.

"Tell me right now that you don't want to fuck me. If you don't, then shut the fuck up kindly, wifey."

Your arms fall to your sides. You were going to protest, push him off of you and kick him out of your apartment never to be seen again but-

You did want him to stay.

Your head nods softly, earning him a small grin. His hands snake up your body, lips pressing against you neck in a slowed and hushed manor. Fingertips graze the hem of your cropped tee. His chest releases a lowered grunt, slipping the thin fabric over your head before throwing it somewhere across the room.

His fingers trail along the lace of your brassiere. A smile paints his lower face at the sight. "Pretty." Suddenly, his expression switches. From loving and soft, to demanding and hard.

"Were you planning on fucking that Nam-shoe guy?" You chuckle at his insult, hands cupping both sides of his cheeks.

"Honestly? A little." His hands grip onto the lace fabric, ripping the expensive-looking material from your warmed body.

You let out a short yelp, hands flying to cover yourself. He groans, pulling your hands away.

"Don't you fucking even try, baby." He smirks, leaning his head down to your level. His soft breaths roll across the skin of your cheek, landing on your ears. "Wearing these tight ass jeans, and a shirt that wouldn't even fit a fucking baby doll? You're just asking for it."

You nod, flashing him some cute pleading eyes. "I am asking." He lets out a dark chuckle, hands coming to pinch lightly at your exposed nipples. Your head lulls back, groaning at the sudden touch.

"I don't need asking. I want you begging."

Hands gripping the bottom of your thighs, he pulls your your body down until the hardened outline of his jeans had been pressed firmly against your aching core.

his arms lock into place, trapping you in his grip.

"What do you say?"

Your throat feels dry. However, your panties had become more than soaked through. You shouldn't do this. You really shouldn't. You'd already fucked up with Taehyung, and now with Namjoon? This man has caused you nothing but trouble.

Yet, you still couldn't help the words that seemingly fall from your lips so easily.

"Please."

________________________

PART TWO WILL BE RELEASED ASAP.

#park jimin #jimin x y/n #jimin x oc #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin yandere #bts yandere #jimin smut #Jimin slow burn? #bts #bts masterlist #bts fics #pjm #bts smut

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | Chapter Two

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3,7k

Warnings | +18, explicit language, kidnapping, yandere, mentions of prostitution, Jimin is really a bastard, harassments, threats with a gun, forced vaginal inspection, humiliation and teasing, light blood consumption, virgin girls are sold, forced separation

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! The second chapter of Dark Moon has arrived, thank you for all the compliments and support ❤

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Previous - Next

When Y/N regained consciousness she felt her head spin and something go up her stomach, she was nauseous as well as very cold, even her leg did not seem to be in optimal condition. A white light filtered past her eyelashes, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut before groaning, trying, in vain, to move. She turned wearily on her side, realizing only then that she was lying on an icy floor. "The mare has awakened," said a voice with a deep cadence. The girl tried wearily to at least get on her knees, but failed to do so; her head was assailed by memories of a few hours ago, they were confused, but one thing she distinctly remembered. A face. A male face full of piercings, of cruel extraordinary beauty. "You better not move a step, you have a gun pointed at your head, baby doll," said another voice, higher and smoother. As her eyes adjusted to the light she focused on the gun in question, clutched in the gloved hand of the same man she remembered. His face was as beautiful as a god's, he had piercings on his lower lip, as well as on his eyebrow and all along the side line of his neck, stretching all the way under his leather coat. His dark hair, on the other hand, was combed so that his forehead was left uncovered, his amphibians also stood tall and menacing, just like the rest of him.

He held that gun with monstrous ease, his stoic expression telling her that he would not think twice about shooting her if he had to. She licked her lips, finding them dry and cracked, before she began to speak. "What do you want from me? I have nothing to interest you," she said in a scratchy voice, hugging her legs in a vain attempt to shield herself from his eyes. "You are quite wrong, dear," the other stepped forward, he was taller than the man with the piercings and his hair was silver, yet the hardness of his eyes was the same, "You have made a request and we are here to fulfill it." The young woman frowned, before the realization finally came. "Now you remember, right? You asked to work for us, in fact ... you both asked." The young woman widened her eyes and immediately remembered her younger sister, looked around in panic noticing the smaller body far away from her. She tried to get up to reach her, but the sound of a trigger froze her. "I told you not to take a step, I might blow your leg off, but that would not please my boss, so let's avoid giving each other trouble," huffed the dark-haired man, he was ruthless. She began to tremble, realizing the trouble she and her sister had gotten themselves into.

They had applied to work everywhere from small bars to supermarkets, not leaving out discos and more domestic jobs. But there was no work, or the pay was starvation. Finally she had made the leap, finding herself applying for jobs in a variety of red-light clubs, and before she could say or do anything, her sister had also followed suit, but she didn't think it would end like that for them. "We never received any recruitment letters or emails, so what are you talking about?" she hissed through clenched teeth. The taller one looked at her sideways, "The Dark Moon is not used to hiring the way you imagine, sweetheart...to fit into its standards you have to possess certain qualities and you two have all of them." If possible that answer left her even more confused, the dark-haired man with the piercings huffed, "Boobs and three holes to fill are not enough, once you enter the Dark Moon you never leave, those who "win" our attention do so because they live far away from their family and with a low lifestyle," he explained vulgarly, heedless of the increasingly evident pallor on the young woman's face. Everything was clear now, one of the brothels to which she had sent her application was much more than that, there was a highly illegal prostitution ring behind it, involving the total disappearance of girls from the rest of the world. The menacing appearance of the two men spoke volumes.

What had they gotten themselves into? "Wait a minute, ours was a request made without thinking" she tried to negotiate, but the grin on the pierced boy's face grew. Jimin was amused, did the poor deluded woman really believe that there was any way back? He shook his head, "Without thinking? You ran away from home because of an abusive family, dropping out of school and cleaning here and there to earn enough to afford a low Motel in the lowest neighborhood in town...it doesn't seem to me that you applied without thinking, in fact, it was desperation that convinced you and you even got bingo," he chuckled nastily. The girl cashed the blow, bending over herself; there was no remedy. She had been kidnapped and a madman was pointing a gun at her with impressive ease, the other man would probably hurt her sister if she decided to challenge them. She felt like crying, but she pushed back her tears; she would not let them see her whimpering like a child. After a few seconds a choked sigh was heard, Y/N opened her eyes again with fear. She turned toward her sister, who terrified looked at her with a lost and confused look. "What...? Y/N, what's going on?" she asked with some difficulty due to the drug used on her.

"Blair, stay there!" she exclaimed, but her sister tried to get up anyway, and the taller guy had to intervene, pushing the younger one against the concrete wall without any kindness, pulled the gun out of his jacket, and Y/N felt herself dying, yelled at him to leave her alone, pushing herself toward them, but a heavy kick to the leg stopped her actions. She groaned in pain, staring at the piercing guy's boot pressing right against her thigh, there where a purplish bruise had already taken shape from the violent sting. "Ha-ha! You're such a naughty little girl, you know? Lucky for you that wasn't a step, because otherwise I would have had to use this," he said in a childish tone, teasing her by moving the barrel of his gun left and right. Y/N swallowed hard, chewing between her teeth the pain she so badly wanted to vent, that boy was scary to her, there was a veil of madness behind his dark eyes. She did not want to find out how far she could push him, that madness. Namjoon, on the other hand, went no further with her sister, just put her back in her place. She resumed breathing as the man moved away from her, but a knock on the door made her stomach flip over. The two men exchanged a brief glance; it was Jimin who opened it without lowering his gun.

Y/N saw three other men enter the building, one of whom towered prominently over the others. He wore a gorgeous fur coat over his smoking, and his incredibly handsome face was obscured by an apathetic expression. The other two, on the other hand, were dressed quite similarly to those who had taken her hostage; they, too, were beautiful and surreally dangerous. "Are there only two of them?" the man in the fur coat asked, pointing at her and her sister. "They are the only ones who passed all the requirements, they are also quite pretty, Jin," shrugged the man the girl had labeled "The Tall One." The Jin in question squared them carefully, Y/N felt naked under his gaze and wished she could hug her sister to protect her from them, but she could not. She would be of no use to her dead. "What are their names?" "Byeon Y/N and Byeon Blair, they are sisters, they used this surname in the application, definitely not the right one...as you can see, they are not Korean." "Good job, Namjoon... As for their status?"

The girl didn't know how they could know all that, because it was true, they had changed their last name so that they didn't have to be related to their father and his family, but what made her cringe was the word "status," underlined in a strange way. The one she seemed to understand was called Namjoon remained silent a few seconds, then shook his head, "We haven't checked." "No problem, we'll do it now," he moved a finger toward the other two, "Taehyung, Hoseok," he said, but the pierced boy got in the way. "Leave this one to me," he said, intriguing Seokjin. "Why, Jimin? You usually avoid by saying it's too hard to handle them." Now she knew the name of that devil, but still not understanding what they intended to check, something told her she would not like to find out, she exchanged a glance with her sister. She saw her as frightened as she had ever been in her life, and it certainly should not have helped to see her, her older sister, in the same condition, so she tried to calm her expression, though with little result. "I have a score to settle with her," she said earnestly, it was then that Y/N remembered the kick thrown at the man's face in her fury to escape him, but she couldn't see any bruises so it must not have hurt him that much, right? The other nodded, "All right."

Next she saw the man named Hoseok heading toward her sister, who pushed herself against the wall trying to escape, but she was surrounded by men with guns and could do nothing. Y/N sprinted toward her, but Jimin was quick to grab her by the collar of her shirt. "Be still and quiet, behave yourself and it will only last a few seconds." But she did not understand, what would last only a few seconds? She blanched at the younger one's shocked screams, turned quickly toward her, and what she saw left her bewildered. The red-haired man, Hoseok, was holding Blair's body crushed to the ground while he did something with his hand under the fabric of her shorts, the insight made her shudder and she threw herself at her once more, heedless of Jimin's firm grip, who gritted his teeth at such stupidity. "What the fuck are you doing to her, you bastard! Let her go immediately, before I kill you!" she snarled bright-eyed, aware that as her sister kicked trying to get the man off her, she could only watch with no chance to react. A laugh behind her back made her skin crawl. "He's doing just that to her," she heard him say, before she was pinned to the wall hard, missing her breath for a few moments, time for Jimin to imprison her wrists in one of his hands, reaching with the other to the fabric of her underpants, which he went over, ending right under her panties.

In horror the girl felt the fingers still wrapped in the leather glove tracing her folds and without any care penetrating her tight slit, she cried out in pain and shock, the fingers went all the way, finding nothing to stop them, but Jimin wanted to provoke her a little. "You're so dry that if I continued you would bleed, wouldn't you? Like a virgin, too bad you're not," he whispered in her ear. The young woman, red with shame, overcame her shock and tried to kick him in the groin where an obvious bulge was taking shape, but Jimin ducked in time, stared at her with icy eyes before stepping firmly out of her intimacy, causing her another painful twinge. He let her fall back to the ground observing his fingers, only a few drops glistened on their surface, nothing striking. "She's tight as hell, but she's not a virgin," he communicated to the others in an impassive voice. Hoseok turned away from the youngest, who cowered in shock. "With this one I stopped pretty much right away, she's a virgin," he showed everyone a few drops of blood present on his fingers before licking them.

No one commented on that gesture, as if it was normal for them, Y/N just felt like throwing up, she clenched her legs trying to calm the burning that the bastard had intentionally caused her, god... if they were on equal terms she would have destroyed him. Seokjin nodded, "We'll make a lot of money with that one, I already have an interested customer." Y/N widened her eyes, rising up sharply. "At least let my sister go! She is young and unfit for such a life!" she exclaimed, staring into the eyes of what appeared to be the boss. Taehyung laughed, "Then why did she apply for such a job? Besides, what would she be different from you, is she a princess or something? Come on, we are fair and consistent people we, it wouldn't be fair to you," he teased her, ignoring Blair's sobs, still hunched over herself because of the pain she was feeling. Hoseok did not seem to have gone easy on her, as he had said. "Miss Byeon, the Dark Moon is a place that lives in anonymity, our clients are important people who want to spend moments of pleasure in complete relaxation, I can't afford outside witnesses other than my men, that's exactly why we only pick up girls like you," he began to explain calmly, "Beautiful, but desperate, I offer them protection and comfort, as long as they abide by my rules." Simply put, 'You know too much, and since you've been brought in, you will do as I say'.

Y/N felt lost, there was no turning back, she would be a whore without freedom until the end of her days, and her sister would follow her freewheeling. At that point, with another needle stuck in her flesh, tears flowed copiously without her being able to do anything to stop them.

Y/N regained consciousness in what was no longer a dingy warehouse, but lying on a soft bed with silk and velvet blankets. Smelling of essential oils and wearing a satin blouse, she widened her eyes, turning around. Next to her a girl was arranging some things in the sliding door closet. She was not paying attention to her. "I-where am I?" she asked in a low voice, the girl blocked her actions, then turned to her, glowering at her. "You should know, shouldn't you? You asked to work here yourself," she arrowed, Y/N looked at her shocked. Why had the woman answered her in that rude way? "I don't think I did anything to you to deserve such an attitude," she said in fact, the other rolled her eyes. "You newcomers are all like that, all naive holier-than-thou. You're at the Dark Moon, girl! Place of pleasure and sin, where you will open your legs without a single complaint and I recommend it for your own good," she blurted out, made to leave without adding more, but Y/N stopped her. "My sister! Have you seen my sister?" she ignored the scurvy attitude of that girl as beautiful as she was rude to ask about the younger one, the other looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, yes...when you arrived they just asked me to get you ready for the room, but I heard about the other one.... She was a virgin, virgins are always sold and never stay at the Dark Moon.... so it was your sister, huh? I'm sorry," she sneered, before leaving the room. The world came crashing down on her, her sister was not there with her, she had been sold without ifs and buts, they had not even given her a chance to see her one last time. She clutched her chest, trapped in a painful grip, and let herself fall on the bed without energy, she merely sobbed for what seemed like hours. She had definitely lost her entire family and there was absolutely nothing she could do to change that. She was gone, Blair was no longer with her, and she would spend the rest of her life spreading her legs for any man with a sizeable bank account. With tears still clinging between her eyelashes she saw the door open once more, revealing the slender figure of another girl, wrapped in a pattern similar to her blouse, but much darker. "Hey. You're the newcomer, aren't you? Nice to meet you, my name is Hanon," she said jovially, waving her hand, Y/N remained impassive, too exhausted and bitter to be in the same mood as her.

"Y/N..." she mumbled back, shutting herself up. The woman was not impressed by that closed attitude; on the contrary, she found herself smiling more. That girl reminded her of herself at first. Almost no one wanted to end up trapped at the Dark Moon, but getting used to it wasn't so bad. They had food and beautiful clothes, as well as a roof over their heads. "Well, hello Y/N! Welcome to the Dark Moon, I was asked to show you around a bit," Hanon said cheerfully, Y/N instantly glowered at her. She didn't want to take the prostitute prison tour, she wanted to go back to the horrid old Motel with her sister, better poor than divided and slutty. "I don't care for that, thank you," she replied through gritted teeth. If possible Hanon's smile grew bigger, a strange light shone in her eyes. "Oh, believe me ... it's in your best interests to listen to me, Seokjin here is the boss and his word is law, if you don't do as he says you'll end up bathing in the icy waters of the Han River, with no chance of rising" from the satisfied voice Y/N guessed that it had already happened and that Hanon was probably someone quite important among the girls, he believed she had power over all of them, that's why she smiled like that. Without uttering another word, Y/N got out of bed, found some bedroom shoes placed neatly on the polished wooden floor, and putting them on followed the other woman.

Hanon showed her several rooms, numbered and with a key inside each shiny, well-oiled lock; almost all the rooms were the same, except for a few cases of far more luxurious suites suitable for clients quite important to the boss of the "shack." Hanon explained to her that the one where she was a few moments earlier was her personal room, no one had the right to enter there, and that every client had one of those other rooms rented for a set amount of time that varied from the fee paid for each type of service requested. Y/N felt disgust and nausea with each piece of information she learned, the customer paid and they automatically had to obey him. Hanon finally showed her their relaxation room; it was a large greenhouse where one could play freely and grow flowers and plants of all kinds. That was perhaps the only area Y/N would appreciate, she told herself. "From this corridor instead you get to the kitchens and the dining room, instead to ask for any kind of information you can ask me, if I will not be available go ahead to Namjoon's office, I will show you where it is" at that name the young woman felt sick. She remembered the silver-haired man, she had no idea he personally worked at the Dark Moon. "Namjoon?" she swallowed, Hanon stared at her for a moment confused by her sudden pallor, then understood. "So this time it was his turn, I guess it went well for you then, he is very kind to girls and-"

"Namjoon kidnapped my sister," she said harshly, "He was not kind to do such a thing, much less his friend with piercings all over his face, who was simply an animal with me," she growled. Hanon winced, he could tell she was talking about Jimin from the description-he was the only one of the men in Seokjin who had piercings all over his face, not to mention his neck. Those seven were divided into distinct and separate personalities, and Hanon knew for sure that the worst were Jimin and Hoseok themselves. "All right, for any doubts ask me, then," then she remembered something important, "Oh, I almost forgot the most essential thing! In case you need help during a session with your client, on the bedside table next to the bed there is a white phone, it has a unique number and communicates with the bodyguards, if you will be in trouble don't hesitate for a moment to call" she explained seriously. A shiver ran down the young woman's spine, she had not yet thought of such a possibility, she believed that with clients of a certain caliber something dangerous could not happen, evidently she was mistaken. When she was escorted back to her room, Y/N stopped Hanon. "Um... Hanon?" "Yes?"

"Before you came, there was a girl in the room with me, she was very rude and I would like to know why, I'm new and didn't give any trouble...I wish I could at least live peacefully here, though I doubt it." Hanon weighed the words well, but decided to be honest. "I told you we have personal rooms, but not as much as they are..." Y/N widened her eyes, "Your room belonged to Ester, the girl you met." "What... Why did you give me her room?" she asked wordlessly, Hanon shrugged her shoulders. "Well, only five other girls have the room like yours, these girls are selected by Seokjin's most trusted men because they are their favorites, and you are now one of them, indeed, of us." If possible, Y/N found herself more confused than before-what was Hanon getting at? The latter sighed, "Ester was Jimin's favorite, but I don't know how...now you're the one who will share a bed with him if he decides to stay here from time to time, when he arrived he didn't think twice about sending her away to give way to you, I think you intrigued him and quite a bit too." Y/N found herself staggering back, everything simply had to be an absurd and horrible joke, should she have shared a bed with such a beast? The disgust did not leave her for a moment longer.

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[taehyungday]

𝗚𝗔𝗗𝗙𝗟𝗬, 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀…𝗃𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾…𝗒𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗎

𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍…𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗉𝖾.

My feet were getting wounded as I was running yet this was my most trivial part of my concerns. My head was pounding with torment. I was certain the little bit off my garments were torn. In an effort to stop me, his maid was loudly yelling my name. Be that as it may, I just couldn't stop regardless of whether I needed to. His cruel treatment of me was just too much for me to bear. When I saw the approaching gates of his mansion, I accelerated my run.

My legs were desensitizing and I could feel my heart beat ascending as I was simply arriving at the entryways. Relief  was filling my body as I was going to leave his poisonous manor. Two dazzling lights flashed in front of my eyes in a sudden manner, blurring my vision.  To avoid the flash, I closed my eyes, but as I tried to open them, I froze when I saw his car barreling toward me at top speed. I was rooted to the ground, my legs having ceased to move. He wasn't meant to return until the next week.

His car came to a stop directly in front of me. He gave me a worried expression as he exited his vehicle. When he saw my disorganized demeanor, he came up and gave me a tender hug. He gave me a loving gaze in my eyes and gently stroked my cheeks.

"What are you doing outside the house at this time. Running around the mansion is not the proper thing to do at this time. Come on, let's head inside." He stated.

He let me out of his hug and held my arm for leading me inside the house. At the point when I felt my feet move, I recoiled in pain,  feeling as I was stepping on thistles.At the point when he saw me wince, he took a gander at my feet while moping a bit.

"How often I have told you not to go outside shoeless. See now your feet are wounded. But don't stress, your husband is here now, I will carry you inside our manor." He said.

Then he wrapped his arm around me and held me in his arms. I was too worn out to communicate with him. My mind was racing with ideas as he brought me inside the home. As soon as we entered his mansion, I knew he would punish me once more. But I could only pray that he wouldn't retaliate as harshly as the previous time he caught me running away.

I only wanted to curse everything. Why I chose to marry a monster like him. I regretted meeting him and saying yes to his marriage proposal.I merely had the capacity to put up with Park Jimin for longer.

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