#jimin imagines

[divinelyparkjimin]

— taste of you [m] | pjm.

◦ summary ↠ getting yourself off to your childhood friend’s sexual escapades was definitely not on your radar, but seems like it should’ve been a long time ago.

◦ pairing ↠ jimin x reader

◦ word count ↠ 5.2k

◦ genre ↠ smut, fluff, angst-ish

◦ content warning(s) ↠ fuckboy!jimin, childhood friends to lovers, roommate au, suggestive/explicit content, dirty talk, thigh riding, penetrative sex, ejaculation, f. and m. orgasm, oral sex, fingering, vouyerism (?), masturbation, alcohol consumption

a/n: i put together another one for you guys! hope you enjoy <3

masterlist

Sitting on the couch in the living room, you held a book in your lap, though you hadn't turned a page in the past twenty minutes. The soft glow of the late morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm light on the cozy apartment. The space was a blend of both you and your roommate, Jimin’s, personalities: your collection of plants thriving in the corners, and Jimin's eclectic mix of posters and musical instruments scattered about. A framed photo of the two of you at your high school graduation hung on the wall, a reminder of the years you had shared.

Your eyes kept drifting to the hallway, waiting for the inevitable sound of Jimin's bedroom door opening. The apartment was unusually quiet this morning, the calm before the storm. Sure enough, the door creaked open, and you heard the soft, murmured goodbyes. A minute later, a petite, pretty brunette emerged, looking slightly disheveled but clearly satisfied. She glanced at you with a polite nod, her high heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the front door. The scent of her perfume lingered in the air, mixing with the aroma of fresh coffee.

Jimin followed shortly after, wearing his usual post-hookup grin. His dark hair was tousled, and his t-shirt was slightly wrinkled. There was a certain smugness in his stride that was both infuriating and oddly endearing. He stopped in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Another one, huh?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow as you set your book aside. "Didn't you have a girl over just last night? What’s going on, Jimin? Suddenly in heat after being a big ‘ol virgin in high school?"

Jimin chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. "Guess I'm making up for lost time," he said, flashing you a playful wink.

You shook your head, unable to keep the smirk off your face. "Never thought I'd see the day. The shy boy next door turned playboy extraordinaire. What happened to you?"

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "People change, you know."

As he sauntered into the kitchen, you followed, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. The kitchen was bright and airy, with sunlight streaming through the large windows. The small dining table where the two of you often shared meals was cluttered with the remnants of breakfast: an empty cereal bowl, a half-finished cup of coffee, and a plate with crumbs. Jimin moved to the coffee maker, his back muscles rippling under his shirt as he poured himself a cup.

"You sure you're okay with this?" he asked, turning to face you, his expression suddenly serious. "I mean, if it's bothering you, I can tone it down."

You forced a laugh, waving off his concern. "It's fine, Jimin. We're adults. You can do what you want."

But the truth was, it wasn’t fine. The more you tried to brush it off, the harder it became to ignore the growing tension inside you. Each night, as the sounds from his room filled the apartment, you found it increasingly difficult to sleep. The moans, the bed creaking, the unmistakable intimacy—it all sent a shiver down your spine, making your cheeks flush and your heart race. You’d lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to push the images forming in your mind aside. But the curiosity and arousal were impossible to ignore. You started seeing Jimin in a way you never had before, wondering what it would be like to be one of those girls.

Mornings became a minefield of awkward encounters. You’d bump into his overnight guests in the kitchen, exchanging polite smiles and trying to mask your discomfort. Jimin, for his part, seemed oblivious to your internal struggle. He would flash you his usual bright smile, completely unaware of the turmoil he was causing within you.

One morning, as you poured yourself a cup of coffee, you couldn’t help but steal glances at the girl Jimin had brought home the night before. She was stunning, with perfect hair and a confident air that made you feel oddly inadequate. You wondered what Jimin saw in her, and whether he had ever looked at you the same way. The thought sent a pang of jealousy through you, but you quickly shoved it aside, forcing yourself to act normal.

This newfound awareness of Jimin’s sexual escapades was driving you crazy. You found yourself unable to concentrate on anything, your mind constantly drifting back to the sounds and sights that had become a part of your nightly routine. The more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feelings grew.

As the days passed, your curiosity began to flourish further and further towards lust, which it was already quite a lot of. You started paying more attention to Jimin, noticing the way his muscles flexed when he moved, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the way his voice deepened when he spoke to his conquests. You were seeing him in a completely new light, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

That evening, after a particularly loud night of giggles and thumping from Jimin's room, you found yourself in the kitchen, brewing a pot of chamomile tea in a desperate attempt to calm your nerves. The door to Jimin’s room opened, and you heard soft footsteps approaching. You stiffened, your heart rate picking up as Jimin entered the kitchen, shirtless and looking annoyingly perfect despite the late hour.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter.

“Yeah, something like that,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He grinned, clearly oblivious to the turmoil he was causing. “Didn’t mean to keep you up,” he said, his tone teasing. “Or maybe I did,” he added with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, though a small part of you couldn't help but appreciate the sight of him. “You’re impossible, Jimin.”

He stepped closer, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him. “You know, if you ever need a distraction…” he started, his voice dropping to a low, seductive tone.

Your breath hitched. “Don’t joke about that,” you said, more harshly than you intended.

He looked taken aback, his playful expression fading. “Hey, I was just kidding. Are you okay?”

You sighed, turning away to pour your tea. “I’m fine, Jimin. Just tired.”

But you weren’t fine. You were far from fine, a potent mix of jealousy and desire taking root within you. It was like your body had a mind of its own, going into heat anytime you’d cross paths with him.

It felt strange to you, considering this was the boy you’d grown up with for such a huge portion of your life. You’d been by his side when he was an ultra nerd, when he wouldn’t dare make a move on a single girl. You’d never imagined you could ever see him as more than that, but here you were.

“Jimin, can I ask you something?” You felt your heart skip a beat.

“Anything,” he replied, his expression soft.

“Why do you do it?” you asked, surprising even yourself with the question. “All the girls, I mean.”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just…easy, I guess. No strings, no complications.”

You looked at him, trying to keep your voice steady. “But isn’t it lonely? Doesn’t it make you feel empty?”

Jimin shrugged, a nonchalant smile on his face. “Not really. I’m just having fun, you know?”

Your chest tightened, but you kept your tone light. “You’re not as invincible as you think you are, you know. One day, you’re going to meet someone who makes you want to risk everything.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe, but I’m not worried about that right now. I’m just taking things as they come.”

You nodded, though your mind was far from at ease. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Jimin.”

He gave you a casual smile. “Thanks. And hey, don’t worry about me. I’m doing just fine.”

You forced a smile in return. “Yeah, I know. Just take care of yourself.”

And with that, you returned to your room, plunging onto the soft cotton sheets that covered your bed. The memory of his teasing words lingered in your mind. “You know, if you ever need a distraction…” His voice had dropped to a low, seductive tone, and though you’d laughed it off at the time, the suggestion had planted a seed in your mind.

Alone in the dim light of your room, your thoughts wandered back to Jimin. You couldn’t deny the magnetic pull you felt towards him, the way your body reacted to his touch, his voice, his presence. You found yourself imagining what it would be like to take him up on his offer, to let him distract you in the most intimate way.

Your hand drifted down your body, your breath hitching as you let your fantasies take over. You imagined the feel of his strong, thick thighs under you, the way they would flex and shift as you rode them. The thought made your pulse quicken, and you let out a soft sigh, your fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.

In your mind, you could see Jimin’s intense gaze, feel his hands on your hips, guiding you. The way his muscles would ripple under your touch, the low growl of his voice as he whispered your name. You imagined the way his thighs would feel beneath you, strong and steady, the friction igniting every nerve in your body.

Your breathing grew heavier, your movements more urgent as you lost yourself in the fantasy. The thought of being with Jimin, of feeling him in such an intimate way, sent waves of pleasure through you. You could almost hear his voice, feel his breath against your skin, the heat of his body enveloping you.

It wasn’t long before your fantasies reached their peak, your body trembling with release. You lay there for a moment, catching your breath, your mind still filled with images of Jimin. The intensity of your desire surprised you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to turn your fantasies into reality.

The next weekend, Jimin knocked on your bedroom door, poking his head in with a grin. “Hey, you got any plans tonight?”

You looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow. “Not really. Why?”

“I’m heading to the club with some friends,” he said, stepping inside. “You should come with us.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You know I’m not into that scene, Jimin. I’m fine here.”

He walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge. “Come on, you’re always sitting at home. One night out won’t kill you. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You sighed, setting your book aside. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t know what to do there.”

Jimin smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just let loose for once. Dance, have a few drinks, and enjoy yourself. I’ll be there with you the whole time.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I’m really not sure. It’s not my thing.”

“Please,” he said, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes. “Do it for me? I hate seeing you cooped up all the time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his expression. “Alright, alright. I’ll go. But if it gets too much, I’m leaving.”

“Deal,” Jimin said, standing up and pulling you to your feet. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I better not.”

As you got ready, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves. Jimin was right—you rarely went out, and maybe it was time to change that. You put on a nice outfit, something that made you feel confident, and met Jimin in the living room.

“Ready?” he asked, smiling warmly at you.

“Ready,” you replied, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your stomach.

With Jimin by your side, you set out for the club, wondering what the night had in store.

The music was loud, the lights were dazzling, and the drinks were flowing. After a few shots, you felt more relaxed, the alcohol dulling your inhibitions. Jimin stayed close to you all night, dancing and laughing in a way that made you feel like you were the only two people in the room.

The club was packed, a sea of bodies moving to the throbbing bass that reverberated through the air. Flashing lights painted the room in hues of blue and red, creating an almost hypnotic atmosphere. You and Jimin had already downed a few shots, the alcohol buzzing warmly through your veins, making everything feel a little more vibrant and a lot less restrained.

You found yourselves on the dance floor, pressed close together by the throng of people. The music pounded around you, a sultry beat that seemed to dictate the movements of your bodies. Jimin's hands found your hips, pulling you against him, and you didn't resist. You’d never felt his touch in a way so intimate before. The feel of his body so close to yours was electrifying, and you let the music take over, swaying in perfect rhythm with him.

Jimin’s breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in to speak, his voice barely audible over the music. “You’re a really good dancer,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin.

You shivered, pressing closer to him. “So are you,” you replied, feeling bolder than usual. The alcohol had stripped away your inhibitions, leaving you more daring and less concerned about the consequences.

As the song changed to something even more sensual, Jimin's hands roamed a bit more, sliding up and down your sides, occasionally grazing the small of your back. Each touch sent a jolt through you, making your heart race. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, your bodies moving as one.

Your faces were inches apart now, and you could see the intensity in Jimin's eyes. There was something different about the way he looked at you tonight—something that made your pulse quicken and your breath hitch. His eyes flickered to your lips, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you right there on the dance floor.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, his voice husky and filled with something you couldn’t quite identify—desire, perhaps, or something even deeper.

“Good,” you whispered back, the word escaping before you could think better of it.

The tension between you was palpable, a current that made every touch, every brush of skin against skin, feel like a spark. You weren’t sure how much longer you could stand it. The alcohol had dulled your fears but sharpened your desires, and all you wanted was to close the small gap between you and feel his lips on yours.

Jimin seemed to feel the same way. His grip on your waist tightened, and he leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching your ear. “You wanna head back?” he suggested, his voice barely more than a breath. “It’s feeling a little stuffy in here.” You nodded, simply wanting to be alone with him. You quickly bid your friends goodbye, before taking off.

Jimin took your hand in his, leading you through the crowd and out of the club, the cool night air hitting you like a shock after the heat of the dance floor. The tension between you was still there, simmering just below the surface.

The ride home in the Uber had been a blur, the tension between you growing with each passing second. You both sat close, his leg pressed against yours, the occasional brush of his hand against your thigh sending sparks through your body. You exchanged lingering glances, the desire in his eyes reflecting your own.

Back at the apartment, the door had barely closed behind you before Jimin was on you again, his hands on your waist as he backed you against the wall. The electricity between you crackled in the air, making every nerve in your body stand on end.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice low and intense as he looked into your eyes.

You shivered, pressing closer to him. “I think I’m starting to get an idea,” you replied, breathless.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and hungry, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

The kiss deepened, growing more intense as the pent-up tension between you finally found release. His hands roamed your body, sending shivers down your spine with every touch. You could feel the heat radiating off him, matching the fire that burned inside you.

Just as things were escalating, Jimin suddenly pulled back, breathing heavily. “I can’t do this,” he said, his voice strained.

You blinked, trying to process his words. “What’s wrong?” you asked, your heart sinking.

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can do this with you.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, your heart sinking at his words as your throat grew tight. “You do this all the time. Why is it any different with me?”

Jimin sighed, looking tormented. “Because it’s not the same. It’s... it’s different.”

You felt a mix of anger and sadness rising. “Different how? Were you not liking it?”

“No, it’s not that,” he said quickly, reaching for your hand. “I just… really care about you. And I don’t want to just have a quick, meaningless hookup with you.”

His confession left you stunned. “What do you mean?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I thought sleeping around would make it easier to stop thinking about you, but it’s never felt right.” Jimin took a deep breath, his voice tinged with regret. “I can’t treat it like you’re just another girl because you’re not. I’ve always wanted it to be you, but I knew I didn’t really stand a chance.”

You felt a lump in your throat, tears welling in your eyes. “So you’ve been avoiding me because you care about me?”

He nodded, looking both vulnerable and relieved. “Yes. I know it sounds messed up, but I didn’t know how else to deal with it. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

You took a step closer, your heart pounding. “Jimin, I want you too. I know I said it didn’t bother me, but it’s honestly been driving me insane. I couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever you’d bring all the girls in, you know?”

His eyes widened with surprise and relief. “You did?”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of hope and longing. “Yes. I wanted you, Jimin. I still do.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken desire as you closed the gap between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that was filled with all the emotions you had kept bottled up. This time, it wasn’t just about lust—it was about love and longing, and the connection you both craved.

As the kiss deepened, you felt Jimin’s hands on your back, pulling you closer. This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. You both knew what you wanted. Jimin slipped his firm hands beneath your thighs, lifting you up in a swift movement, keeping his lips connected to yours. You locked your legs around his torso, arms placed around his neck.

His lips felt perfect against your own, the pillowy feeling of them pulling you deeper into the moment. You gasped for air every now and then, but were not given much of a break before the two of you were at it again, more passionate than before. Your fingers traced along the back of his neck as you were buried in each other’s faces, occasionally gripping at his hair.

“F-Fuck Y/N, I’ve wanted this so bad,” Jimin croaked, heavy breaths escaping his lips.

“Trust me, I have too.” You chuckled, pecking his nose before going back into his lips. You found yourself sucking on his bottom lip and had each other’s tongues periodically crossing the barriers between the two of you.

Jimin placed his hands at your ass, as if for a better grip on you, before carrying you over to his bedroom. The journey there was a shaky one, as neither of you could seem to separate from basking in the feelings of one another. Upon arrival, he set you on his bed, before pulling off his shirt and crawling atop you.

Your eyes followed him with delight, staring up at him with doe eyes that he couldn’t help but grin at.

“God, you’re so cute.” Jimin’s hand rose up to touch your face, his large thumb swiping along your cheek. He pecked the same spot, sending shivers down your spine. He then leaned back, his eyes taking in your form with a mix of admiration and desire.

Slowly, you tugged at the hem of your own shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Jimin's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, and his hands quickly followed, exploring the newly exposed skin. His touch was both gentle and possessive, making your body arch into him with every caress.

Jimin's lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses that made you shiver. He nipped at your collarbone, eliciting a gasp from you as his hands roamed over your curves. You felt his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra, and within moments, it was discarded, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his lips finding their way to your breasts. He took his time, savoring each kiss and lick, driving you wild with need. Your hands roamed over his toned back, feeling his muscles flex beneath your touch as he continued his ministrations.

You couldn’t wait any longer. Your hands traveled down his torso, fingers tracing the lines of his abs before reaching the waistband of his jeans. You fumbled with the button, your eagerness evident as you finally managed to undo it. Jimin chuckled softly, a sound filled with both amusement and anticipation.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased, but his voice was thick with desire. He helped you with the rest, quickly shedding his jeans and boxers. The sight of him, fully naked and aroused, sent a jolt of anticipation through you.

He leaned back down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his hands made quick work of removing the last of your clothing. Now, with nothing between you, the heat of his body against yours was almost overwhelming. You could feel the evidence of his desire pressing against you, making your own arousal spike.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs, his fingers teasing your entrance before slipping inside.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he muttered. “I guess you really haven’t gotten any in a while.” A sly smirk appeared on his face as your face turned into a face of shock.

“Hey—!” you began, before you were cut off by his hand covering your mouth.

“Shh,” Jimin whispered, his eyes darkening with desire. “Let me take care of you.”

You moaned into his mouth as he pressed further against your g-spots. Your hips bucked against his hand as he worked you with skilled, deliberate movements. Every touch, every stroke, brought you closer to the edge. His fingers thrusted inside you, curling to hit that perfect spot that made your vision blur even harder.

Your moans grew louder, the sound filling the room as your body tensed, every muscle tightening in anticipation. Jimin’s other hand slid up your body, cupping your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers, adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

“Jimin, I’m so close,” you panted, your hips moving in time with his thrusts, chasing the climax that was just out of reach. He bit down gently on your earlobe, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“Come for me, baby. I want to feel you,” he growled.

The combination of his words, his touch, and the raw intensity in his eyes left you pooled with desperation. Your orgasm hit you with a force that left you breathless, your body convulsing around his fingers as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his back as you rode out the climax.

Jimin didn’t stop, continuing to pump his fingers inside you, prolonging your pleasure until you were a quivering mess beneath him. When he finally pulled his hand away, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied smirk.

“God, you taste amazing,” he said, his eyes dark with lust as he looked down at you. You were still catching your breath, your body humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Jimin,” you breathed, reaching up to pull him down into a kiss. Your tongues tangled together, the taste of yourself on his lips adding to the intimate connection between you.

He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “Ready for more?” he asked, his voice a low, seductive murmur.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Always,” you whispered, your body already aching for his touch again.

It was not long before his lips were back in contact with your skin, trailing kisses down your body which left a scorching path from your neck to your navel. Every touch sent shivers through you, your skin tingling with anticipation. When he reached your thighs, he gently spread them apart, positioning himself between them.

“Jimin…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. The sight of him, his eyes locked onto yours with such intensity, made your heart race.

“I’ve always wondered what you’d taste like,” he murmured, his tone laced with eagerness. He leaned in closer, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation made you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you in place as he continued his exploration. His tongue moved with expert precision, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through you. He sucked gently on your clit, making your head spin and your breath come in ragged gasps.

“Jimin, please,” you begged, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. The need for release was overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with lust and satisfaction. “Not yet, baby. I want to make you feel everything.”

As the intensity between you reached its peak, you felt a surge of boldness wash over you. Breaking away from the kiss, you looked up at Jimin with flushed cheeks and a determined gleam in your eyes.

"Jimin," you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, "I want to ride your thigh."

His eyes widened in surprise, but a smirk quickly spread across his lips. "Hell yeah," he replied, his voice husky with seduction. “I didn’t know you were into that.”

You straddled his thigh, feeling the heat of his skin against yours as you positioned yourself just right. With a shaky breath, you began to move, your hips rolling against him in slow motions.

The friction was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body with each movement. Jimin's hands roamed your curves, guiding you as you found a rhythm that drove you both wild.

You threw your head back, letting out a low moan as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. Jimin's thigh provided the perfect amount of pressure, hitting all the right spots and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Despite the immense feelings of pleasure, it didn’t seem to be enough, so you wanted more.

“I need you, Jimin,” you breathed, barely able to form the words as pleasure clouded your mind.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Aligning himself with you, he slowly pushed his length inside you, filling you completely. The sensation was both intense and intimate, making you gasp as your bodies finally joined.

Jimin set a slow, steady pace, his movements deep. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, building steadily until you felt like you might burst. His lips never strayed far from yours, kissing you with a passion that matched the intensity of his movements. The familiar sound of his headboard banging against the wall filled the room as his thrusts grew rougher. It was a noise you were used to hearing from the other side of the wall, but were now able to experience for yourself.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you rode the waves of pleasure. The rhythm between you was perfect, a dance of desire and emotion that brought you closer with every thrust.

“Jimin, I’m gonna—” you cried out, unable to hold back any longer.

“Do it, Y/N. Come,” he urged, his voice a low growl.

The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with an intensity that left you trembling. Your vision blurred, your mind going blank as pleasure consumed you. Jimin continued to lap at you yet again, drawing out your climax until you were completely spent. Jimin held you close, his own release mingling with yours, the connection between you deeper than it had ever been.

Finally, he pulled away, crawling back up your body to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss. As the waves of pleasure subsided, you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, your bodies still entwined. Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin.

“That was amazing, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with contentment. In that moment, everything felt perfect, the years of friendship and unspoken desire finally culminating in something beautiful.

Jimin chuckled softly, breaking the silence. “So, does this mean we can make this a regular thing?”

You laughed, playfully swatting his chest. “Are you saying you can’t get enough of me already?”

“Pretty much,” he grinned. “I don’t I could ever get enough of this.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as they drifted down the length of your body.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Neither do I, Jimin.”

With that, you both settled into a comfortable silence, cuddled close, bare skin against bare skin. As the night grew quieter, the rhythm of your breathing began to sync, and you found yourselves drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

a/n: feel free to leave a comment or slip into my inbox to let me know what you think! feedback is always appreciated :>

masterlist

[perfectlyoongi]

HUSBAND!JIMIN who offers you a cat instead of an engagement ring. when Jimin entered the house with a small orange cat, you smiled widely at the thought that you would finally have an animal to keep you company; however, when you looked at the collar, a small inscription sparkling in the silver locket, you almost cried, the tears coming so naturally with the confirmation of Jimin's love for you — finally the beginning of your family. “the beginning of a new chapter: a marriage and a family. i couldn’t be happier.”

HUSBAND!JIMIN who almost cried at the end of your wedding day. the entire day was a river of emotions that drowned Jimin in the depths of happiness without any chance of escape; but he didn't care; even consumed by extreme euphoria, Jimin felt the happiest in the world that day and he knew this feeling would last for days — he could only cry, he was finally happy, with you, forever. “i just love you and i can't believe we're actually married. my life will never be sad again, i’m sure.”

HUSBAND!JIMIN who sends you random messages throughout the day just to encourage you. Jimin's fingers were quick to send you messages daily, almost instinctively; whenever you appeared in his mind or when he saw something that reminded him of you, Jimin would start writing small tender words soaked in passion on his cell phone to make your day better, to show you that he will never forget you. “don’t forget to drink water. straighten your back and keep kicking ass at work.”

HUSBAND!JIMIN who likes to surprise you at work during lunch. whenever Jimin had extra time during his lunch break, he would make a point of surprising you at work, taking you out to lunch to clear your head and tell him about all the stress you might have accumulated in the first part of your job; just relaxed conversation, your husband supporting every word and delicious food to make that lunch ideal. “if we leave now, we can get a table at that restaurant you like. i’ll pay today, don’t worry.”

HUSBAND!JIMIN who randomly kisses you when you're at home. Jimin was simply full of love for you, it was impossible not to show you; when he met you in the kitchen, before leaving the house, when you were watching tv or before he went to take a shower, it didn't matter what you were doing or when, Jimin always made a point of kissing you gently and quickly, showing you day after day that the flame that arose in both of you when you were younger would burn forever. “my lips were a lonely, they just wanted company.”

HUSBAND!JIMIN who goes on long night walks around the city with you. holding your hand, without any destination in mind, Jimin walked relaxed through the city, letting the city sounds become the background music of your walk; you rarely spoke, but there was no need for words either, not when the city sang you private serenades and made you lose yourself in long moments of contemplation. “next week it will rain every day. do you want to go for a walk today and enjoy the clear sky?”

HUSBAND!JIMIN who will ensure that your love is forever genuine. Jimin knew that the feeling that united you was true, kept inside you for so long that it was already part of you; so, it was impossible for any of you to force the fire that burns your hearts, it was impossible to recreate that fire — Jimin was sure of that, but that didn't stop him from, day after day, year after year, remembering the love he felt for you, the love that makes his life more beautiful. “one day, one of us will be alone, but i know that even then, our love will continue to exist and make us happy.”

[cybsoo2]

a bleeding bruise

╰┈➤ synopsis — Two failures have unfolded tonight. A failed escape attempt on your part, and a punishment that leaves more lasting damage then the boys had expected. 

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!vminkook x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 4.2k

╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, violence, assault, verbal abuse, injury, strong language, angst, jk’s a bit of a jerk :(

ੈ♡₊˚｡ over to ⇢ pt.2

“NO! NO! PLEASE STOP! I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY!” Shrill screams suffocate the silence. Your useless pleas are ignored as three men carry you back to where you belong. “I WON’T DO IT AGAIN, PLE-”

“BE QUIET!” Jungkook muffles your crying with the palm of his hand. He masks his words with anger to hide his anguish. Your tears create a hole in his heart.

Three sets of hands grasp you tightly. Their rough grip leaves raw imprints onto your wrists and waist. You try to squirm under their hold, and it works for a second when you free your legs to try and kick at them. In the end the struggling creates more problems when Taehyung tears you apart from the others and throws you over his shoulder.

You pound your fists against his back and continue begging to be let go. Pathetic pleas of ‘Please let me go,’ ‘I’ll be good now,’ or ‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ fall down to the forest floor. Your punches grow more panicked and as you fight through your fury, Jimin grabs your wrists to stop you.

“Stop hurting him.” He pleads with you in a gentle tone. He’s two seconds away from bursting into tears, but he chokes his cries back by begging. “I love you, I love you, why can’t you make this easy.” His hushes are spoken as they continue to walk. 

Small crystals begin to fall from the sky. Your own crying is muted by Taehyung’s sweater. Your sadness leaves stains that he’ll have to worry about later.

While Jungkook leads the way back to the house, Jimin mutters pretty prayers that you won’t hate them after this punishment. He strokes your hanging head and says, “This is for the better, you’ll understand once it’s over.”

Jungkook successfully navigates your way through the forest and the backyard of your home peeks out of the treeline. Once you step out under the protection of the bristles and branches, the rain begins to leave you drenched. It’s an uncomfortably cold wetness that makes you shift atop Taehyung’s shoulder. Jimin and Taehyung lead you to the middle of the backyard and you’re lifted off Tae’s shoulder to stand on two feet.

You shiver against Taehyung’s chest. He holds you tightly to him with his gentle hands holding your hips. His touch doesn’t hurt, but it’s strong enough to let you know you won’t be able to get away again. He stares straight ahead to where Jungkook walks away back into the house. An anxious feeling buries its way into your bones once you pick up on his nervous ticks. He shifts his weight and tugs you tighter against him. His jaw is clenched, keeping secrets stored about what sort of punishment you’ll be subject to. Despite being so close, he keeps his distance. Usually so affectionate, now he doesn’t make a move to melt into you. He keeps his head up against the rain and doesn’t spare you a single look.

Jimin can barely contain the nervous jitters that jostle him. His uneasy eyes switch between you and Jungkook’s figure now emerging from the house. He carries cold chains that hang over his shoulders and wrap around his wrists. They’re so long that the excess drags down behind him. 

The sight of the chains instills an instant panic. You tremble against Taehyung’s touch and forget how to breathe when Jungkook’s footsteps get closer. Shocked by a sudden rush of adrenaline, you strike Taehyung in the gut and turn to run. You only make it a few steps before you’re forced to the ground. Jimin slams into you and you fall face-first into the cement. He catches your arms as they thrash about and holds them in a vice-grip. Taking your wrists with one hand, he reaches down to your waist and flips you over. 

The next thing you see is Taehyung in front of your face. He straddles over you with his knees restraining your legs. His hands slide up to your shoulders, staring at you with dead eyes. 

You’re forced away from Taehyung’s gaze when Jungkook tugs at your hair, turning your eyes up to focus on him. 

“If you want to act like an ungrateful bitch, then we’ll treat you like one.” The venom he spits strikes your heart. It stings to be subject to his twisted tongue. Cruel words collide with their punches. The cold chain wrapped around your leg is the only thing keeping you connected with the world. You’re so sure that if you didn’t have this steel tether, you’d be beaten down to hell by the heat of their attacks. 

You’re struck with kicks and punches from one while another assaults you with rotten words. Someone else is settled at your side, holding down your body despite your stillness. 

You blocked out most of their beating. Seeing those loveless eyes sent you into isolation. The bleeding and bruising so overwhelming that you ended up running away from your mind. Yet, you remember the rain. It cried alongside you, relentless and cruel. Your focus found the sky and stayed there until they were done. 

A semi-silence wraps itself around the four of you. Only small pants for breathe and soft sobbing are audible. The rain blends into the background as you focus on the three men that now stand above you. It’s so dark out you can hardly see their faces. Black borders surround your shaking body and stare. You now realize that this midnight madness has come to an end. 

You now sit as a sobbing mess under the crying sky. The rain ricochets off your beaten body. Rain and tears fall forever; all sorrow is soaked back into the earth. The cold air kisses all the skin you have to spare. The metal chain wrapped around your leg clanks together due to your violent shaking. 

No matter how much the cold bites at your back, your heart feels more frostbitten. You can barely even feel the phantom kicks and punches anymore. Your mind only replays the memories of them turning their backs as you beg.

Did you really go too far? Did you fuck up so badly that life will be even more tortuous than before? Even if you hated them for stealing your freedom and feelings away, at least they loved you. They showed you kindness and empathy. Such curious killers that haven’t shown you any animosity since they stole you away. 

Each raindrop that falls rips into your heart even further. This punishment is proof of your wrongdoing. You don’t even care about the beating at this point, you only yearn to be loved. To be caressed and cradled with care. Do they still love you? Can you prove to them that you can be better than this, that you will be better. Even a hopeless situation can feel the opposite when love turns your attention the other way.

You hadn’t even felt scared when they began to cut and kick you. You deserved it didn’t you? How selfish of you to keep denying these soulmates your love. They’ve given everything they have to make you happy and you went and threw it in the trash. 

You don’t want to suffer any more. Maybe making the best out of this broken life will bring better days.

As you lay lifeless on the pavement, scarlet sorrows spill out of you. It covers the concrete and coats every inch of your existence. As you fall under sleeps spell, you dream of three men. You imagine a man with black hair holding you close. The second fights off the rain with an air of annoyance. And the final illusion soothes away your sadness.

Taehyung finds himself trying to fight off the darkness that suffocates him. The house is too silent and still. It makes him anxious. He wants to peek out the window to check the damage they’ve done, but Jimin grabs his shoulder and guides him upstairs. A dark despair stains the cream carpet as he slowly makes his way upstairs. Jimin and Jungkook drag themselves ahead of him. A heavy weight holds them down. Their shoulders slump and their smiles sag. 

So slowly, they remove their shoes as they continue their steps and throw them every which way. Soaked shirts and wet pants are quickly taken off.

“We’ll just leave her like that for a little bit.” Jungkook mumbles with an exhausted expression. “Once we warm up and clean off we can go back and get her.”

“Isn’t that too long?” Jimin holds hesitance between two lips. His eyebrows frown and he purses his lips in pain. Everything about Jimin shows he’s doubting his decisions. He already began to regret his actions once the rain relapsed. 

“She has to realize there’s consequences for her dumb decisions.” Jungkook stares into Jimin and his tired teary eyes give away everything. “I love her too and I don’t like hurting her. But we can’t let her think she can try running away whenever she wants.”

“But what if she just ends up hating us even more.” Jimins words tremble with terror. Shining streaks start to fall off his face as he fails to hold back his tears.

Taehyung turns Jimin towards him and rubs his shoulder as an attempt to soothe him. “She just has to learn her lesson. Then we’ll rush right back out and fix everything. We’ll clean her cuts and warm her up,” Taehyung tilts his head to look Jimin in the eyes. “It’ll be okay.” 

No one says anything about the lie that leaves Taehyung’s lips. Hopeless words slide down a throat better when they’re coated in honey. Three men tell each other little lies to keep themselves from collapsing. However, they can only float in a fool’s paradise for so long before they come crashing down. 

As the three men take turns in the shower, a sick sense of guilt begins to smother them. A cold chill creeps into their bones that not even a sweltering shower can wash away. 

An hour has passed by before they decide your punishment has reached its end. The clock strikes 2 and three sets of feet stumble over each other. Everyone trying to be the first to erase their terrible torment. The boys scramble down the stairs, only tripping two times in the restless race. 

They pick you up off the pavement and you welcome their warmth in the rain. 

You cling to Jimin like an extra layer of clothes; he holds you in his arms with a warm welcome. He tugs you closer to his chest, small squeezes and sniffles fill in the silence. In an awkward position, Jimin shuffles the both of you into the house and upstairs with Taehyung leading the way. Jungkook trails closely behind, shushing your cries and smoothing down your hair. 

They don’t speak about the pain and punishment other than the consistent mumbles of ‘I’m sorry.’ 

Your silence scares them. Somehow, it feels easier to be faced with your hatred and indifference than nothing at all. Although, they still hang on to a small sliver of hope that they haven’t lost you yet. They can see the subtle way you grasp onto Jimin’s jacket; holding on with white knuckles as if it’s a lifeline. There’s a shimmer of sadness in your eyes, bordering on bittersweet emotions. They can tell you’re hanging onto the same fated string as them. The four of you have nothing but hope. 

These three men don’t know how to be gentle. They’re love is rough and full of risks. And you don’t know how to be docile. You’d weren’t made to shrink down smaller just so they can control you. But when you reach the bathroom and they tell you to sit, you obey so easily. This change is for the better. The first step to an easier life. Four fated fools that all long for love. Stripping away the pieces of singularity to forcibly fit the puzzle. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathroom counter. Taehyung sat at your side to keep you company. Jungkook and Jimin have wandered off to wherever they went. Most likely getting stacks of medical supplies. Taehyung takes your hand and rests his head on your shoulder. You lean back against the mirror, screwing your eyes closed when another sharp sting of pain presses into your side. Taehyung gives a squeeze to the hand he’s holding, silently begging the boys to hurry up. As if they heard his prayers, Jungkook and Jimin reach the bathroom in record time. Jimin takes a seat on the toilet while Jungkook rummages through the first aid kit. 

The small boy at your side lays his head down on your leg. His tears sink into your soaked blue jeans. Anxieties taste like acid on his tongue. And when he leaves lingering kisses to the cuts that litter your legs, that tainted taste is now blurred with blood. He wears your crimson carnage like lipstick. The blood smeared all across his face. Attempting to drown out your pain with passion. His kisses then crawl upwards. Coming close to the cuts on your stomach that Jungkook is stitching up. Every time you wince from the needle stabbing into your skin, Tae and Jimin take turns trying to distract you. 

While Jungkook cleans up your cuts, he asks the others to tend to your bruises. Taehyung takes the ointment from Jungkook’s open hands. He takes a generous amount and mixes it around, efficiently warming it up. Heartbroken bruises burn against his tender touch. The tiniest of touches burns through your bones. A small gasp that stumbles out of your lips causes him to still. He stares at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to tell him to continue. 

Through clenched teeth you mumble a weak, “Keep going.” He hesitates but abides by your words. He traces your bruises with the tips of his fingers, leaving behind hearts that beg for forgiveness. He stares at your scarlet stained features while he trails shapes up your hips and along your arms. A look of pain is plastered on your face. He shares your sadness, taking each tear that escapes your eyes as another stab of torment. 

Jungkook stands between your legs. He works with a deep set determination. Diligent and dangerous with how he handles the needle. He’s quick with every stitch, cursing under his breath every time you pull back in pain. And every so often, when a scarce cry escapes you, he lets his hand slip. Stabbing his skin ever so slightly to feel even an inkling of the pain he’s caused you. Putting pressure on the cut and combining your blood with his. 

Jungkook tries to keep you as steady as possible while he puts together the pieces of their destruction. He lets you lean into Taehyung’s chest and be tainted with touches by Jimin. He doesn’t have time to envy their affections. So, he keeps on stitching, doing the dirty work when the others can’t bear the burden. 

Taehyung and Jimin wrap you in white bandages. You lay limply against Jungkook. Breathing shallow breaths and whispering into his ear, “Do you still love me?”

Jungkook could cry right there. Break down in the bathroom under the weight of his wrongdoing. He can’t hide his emotions when it comes to you. He struggles to stay strong. Hot tears trail down his face and he squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the teardrops will come to a stop. 

“How could you ever think that?” His voice shakes under ultimate sadness. “I love you more than you can imagine. So much so that it makes me sick, and I can’t stand the thought of you ever leaving me. Leaving us.” He raises his hand to run through your hair. Gently pushing your face down to sit on his shoulder. Away from his face and naive to the sobs he tries to stifle. 

When they finish fixing you up, you’re held together by silver string and rotten, red kisses. Taehyung pulls you off the counter and cradles you close to his heart. He carries you to the bedroom and doesn’t let go even when you’ve already reached the bed. He sits you on his lap and watches as the other two rush around him. In a frantic frenzy, they rush to turn off the lights (leaving on the bedside lamp), bundle you in blankets, and grab a dry change of clothes. 

When Jungkook can’t seem to find your clothes fast enough, Taehyung takes matters into his own hands. Sliding off his shirt and slipping it over your shoulders. He then works to slide off your drenched jeans. He leaves your legs bare but covers you in a burden of blankets. Tucking in the corners and tying you up tight. 

Jimin enters the room with water and what seems to be small pills. He kneels down in front of you, his hand resting on your knee and holding out a remedy.

“Take these,” he drops the pills into your empty palm, “and drink some water to wash them down.” You pop the pills into your mouth one by one, washing them down with the water. 

Once everything starts to settle, silence shushes the room and darkness bleeds in through the blinds. You all begin to feel the remnants of your adrenaline-rush. An uneasy exhaustion sticks to your skin. You crawl under the covers and seek solace in their embrace. 

Taehyung drags his fingertips over the skin of your spine. A gentle touch that attempts to settle your shivers and sooth your sadness. The movements are slow, and he distracts himself by counting each indent his fingers reach. He’s cautious to avoid the cuts and bruises, still fresh and fragile. He repeats this motion for many minutes as a way to take both your minds off everything. 

Taehyung doesn’t like to think back on the events that unfolded only hours ago. Your betrayal and beating are tucked away behind blinds in the darkest parts of him. Taehyung tucks away his turmoil and sinks into the sheets. He shimmies down deeper into the mass of blankets and bodies. He hopes tomorrow won’t turn out as terrible as today; wishing on a star that you’ll begin to settle into your new life with new lovers. If you never love them like they want, then you’ll just have to learn how. Playing pretend in a dollhouse made for demons. 

The silence is split by Jungkook’s concern, “Baby? Are you sure you’re okay?” After the damage they’re done he feels the need to double check everything. 

Your mouth is sealed shut. The words you want to speak stick to your insides. You settle for a small nod against Taehyung’s shoulder. The youngest man outstretches his hand to stroke your hair. With such softness, he presses your head into the pillow. He then makes himself more comfortable, sliding into the sheets and slotting himself in between Taehyung’s touch, and the wall. He does so without lifting the hand that holds your head. 

“You’re tired aren’t you? Just try to fall asleep. We’ll be watching over you, don’t worry.” You give a grunt in response. Taehyung’s silent strokes are sending you to sleep, and Jungkook’s fingers running through your hair finally set your heart at ease. Your tiredness takes over and dizzy dreams dance in the distance. 

Before you fall asleep, Taehyung tells you one last thing, “I’m sorry we hurt you… I’m sorry we’re so selfish… But we can’t let you go.”

You wake during a wilted sunrise. Pink clouds are beaten bloody leaving bloodstains to soak the sky. The red tint of the light lingers above you. The blinds allow just the slightest sliver of sunshine into the room.

Your tired eyes struggle to see in the dark. Fighting off the fatigue only takes a minute or two before clarity can calm you. You drag your head up higher on Taehyung's chest, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. He sleeps soundly under the scarlet sunrise. Short puffs of air tickle your nose whenever he takes a breath.

You look over to your left and see that Jungkook is also a slave to slumber. His youthful features appear worn and weary even in his sleep.

Even if you can’t check behind you to see, you can only assume that Jimin hasn’t woken up from your movement. As his body had sunken into soft slumber, his weight seemed to have doubled. Heavy limbs are draped over you with a possessive person that lags behind. This burden begins to grow painful as your fresh bruises blossom in irritation. You shift closer to Tae, trying to escape the pressure that piles on top of you. When you move only a millimeter to the left, you’re stuck with a sudden pain that leaves you paralyzed. Shot with an icy wave of shock, you struggle to suck in a single breath. A crippling pain swarms in your stomach. It stirs up a sickness that threatens to spill out of you. You slap a hand to your mouth, forcing the feeling back down. 

Once the nausea wanes away, the ache in your abdomen appears to triple. You attempt to stifle a sob, but you should have known that any slight discomfort from you is bound to be discovered. Jungkook begins to stir from the subtle noise. 

He can feel you trembling under his touch. Your name falls from his lips in pure panic. His eyes search your body for any signs of harm. His hands ghost over the bruises that are turning blue. A frown forms when looking at the white bandages that cover the cuts he caused. When he can’t find anything out of the ordinary, he switches his sight to stare right into your eyes. “Is it hurting again? Is it the bruises or the cuts?” Concern chokes him. Sin and shame sting like a venom in his veins. 

You’re still struggling to take control of your tears. Hiding them with your hands and biting back your cries. Jungkook grows more anxious with each second that wastes away. “What do you need? Anything, anything at all. How can I help?” He reaches out to remove your hands in front of your face. 

A fit of coughing chokes you. Jungkook acts fast, sitting up to steady you. His hands almost hover, afraid to cause you anymore harm. But when a second round of coughing and crying starts up, he takes you in his arms. The rapid movements rouse Taehyung from his slumber. His words are slurred with sleep when he asks “Are you okay?” and “What’s happening?” Neither you nor Jungkook answer him. 

Your agony is over spilt and you start coughing all over again. A silver taste mixes with your saliva. “Jungkook,” A tremor takes over your tone. “Jungkook, it hurts.” 

“I know, baby. I know. But where does it hurt?” He runs his rough hands along your back. Settling the shivers that trail up your spine. He shushes your cries and tilts your head up to him. He stares into the saddest sight he’s ever seen. Red-rimmed eyes, pathetic whimpers of pain, and a bottom lip so bitten it’s bleeding. He feels an ache in his chest at your pitiful appearance. He uses his thumb to pull your lip from in between your teeth. 

It’s at this time when Taehyung starts to shake off the effects of a deep sleep. He sits up and leans against your back. One arm is used to steady himself while the other wraps around your waist. His fingers are tied up with the bottom of your (his) shirt. He fidgets with the fabric, trying to focus his mind on anything other than the sounds of your sobbing. He tucks his head over your shoulder and squeezes you a little tighter. 

“It’s my stomach that hurts. I think I might throw up.” At your words, Taehyung loosens up his grip. Instead, he sticks his hand under your shirt to soothe your stomach. He draws circles with his thumb and follows Jungkook’s lead. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom then.” Jungkook pulls you up, letting you lean on him as he prepares to take you to the bathroom. Taehyung trails behind, struggling with the sheets tied around his legs.

“Jimin,” Tae shakes the man rather roughly. “Wake up. Sweethearts not feeling well.” He doesn’t wait for his friend to wake, too restless at the thought of you injured and too far for comfort. He rushes out of the room and stumbles upon a sight he wishes he didn’t have to see. 

Blood burns through your throat and the next thing you know scarlet is being spilt onto the tile. You share a shaky look with both boys, tears lining all your eyes. Red runs down your lips and stains your shirt. As you stare at Taehyung, scared out of your skin, he can’t help but think that his selfish, lovesick soul will be the cause of your demise.

© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved

[kth1fics]

Safe Haven (M) | PJM

Safe Haven

⟶ Pairing: Park Jimin x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: royalty, smut, 18+ ⟶ Tropes: forbidden love au, medieval royal au, royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin ⟶ WC: 16.2k+ ⟶ Warnings: mild birth scene mention (hardly any details!), mentions of d*ath, brief fighting/attacking descriptions, blood mentions, hair pulling (when attacked), weapons mentioned, poison/venom mention, random side character d*aths, soft pining, kisses, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Beta: Sarah bean! @caelesjjk ⟶ Summary: When a wolf protects the royal family for many years, he’s faced with one special princess who he’ll do anything for. ⟶ Author’s Note: Apart of the “To Love a Monster” collab! I took a long while to get this fic out – and I am sorry for those who have been waiting for it. It may take me months to write and readers minutes to read, but I do hope that this fic holds a special place in someone’s heart in the end! Please enjoy & leave some feedback if you have the time! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Bound to You by Christina Aguilera

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi 

Freshly welcomed into the King’s Guard, Jimin, a sprouting young wolf, rushes around the corridors of the castle to obey the barking orders of his higher-ups. Making haste, all servants and guards make their purpose of assisting the Queen.

“Hurry!” Hoseok, another royal guard and close friend to Jimin, shuffles through the utility room. “Gather more cloth!”

“Aren’t people usually more prepared with things like this?” Jimin frantically follows, his voice rushed with the fast pace movements. 

“I’m afraid not,” Hoseok huffs a laugh.

The two younger royal guards speedily ransack each drawer and closet until their arms are full of materials. They stumble back down the hall towards the birthing chamber. A room enclosed for the parties who participate with the anticipated arrival of the next royal kin. A domestic, darkened room provided with the country's softest furnishings. Royal officials and servants are permitted to be within the room for the delivery to ensure that there are no scandals around the birthing practice.

A midwife places herself before the legs of the Queen. A moan of pain rips from her Highness’s throat. Jimin and Hoseok stand idly as the birthing of child number three crowns at the entrance of the world, preparing to gain its first breath of fresh air. The scene is natural for humans, even more common for a royal to carry out in front of an audience.

For Jimin, he prefers not to stare like the others. His polished amber eyes trail to the lines of the floorboards, using any peripheral view for his advantage.

“It’s a girl!” He hears the cries from a newborn baby, the declaration announced by the midwife who’s wiping off residue from the infant.

Placed on the chest of her mother, the newest child of the royals whines freely. The sound rings through the ears who listen. The King is joyous, regardless of being unable to create a proper heir to his throne. But with the first two daughters – and now third, the royal guards know his Highness will move quickly in trying for a son.

Servants flutter about, handling the delicacies of aftercare for childbirth. Jimin follows after his friend, handing off the pile of cloth to a maiden. Bodies move around another like an assembly line. 

For a moment, and only a moment is needed, did Jimin finally take a swift glance at the newborn who screams her upset. He locks eyes with the infant over the shoulder of Hoseok, seeing a warmth of an everlasting hearth as she cries wet droplets down her face.

Then it happened.

Jimin is struck with something that is indescribable. Something that couldn’t be defined. He’s heard through stories and lores within his lineage that this phenomenon could happen to anyone at any time in one's life. He hears about it through those he’s close to and those who experience it. It’s a once in a lifetime deal.

He can feel the shift of his weight when he locks eyes with the newborn baby. As if this new formed motion represents an outstanding astronomical level. Where his world, which once revolved around the Sun as it does for everyone, now revolves around this small, fragile child.

Jimin’s heartbeat thumps in his ears as the world freezes around him. Hoseok and the other royal wolf guards all sense a change in the wind. If it isn’t Hoseok ushering him out of the way of the other servants and departing out of the chamber, he’s sure the royal family would have done it themselves. 

With his head on a silver platter.

Hoseok’s palm slaps the side of Jimin’s cheek to gain his consciousness from whatever daze he’s fumbled in. It takes him a few good taps before Jimin blinks. His blood runs rampant inside him with warmth and excitement.

The second Jimin looked at the third child of the royal household, everything changed within him. All of a sudden, nothing else matters. The yearning of knowing and willing to do anything, be anything, for her is the only constant demand singing at the back of his head.

“You didn’t,” Hoseok’s hushed tone stays low. “Not a royal!”

“How am I supposed to control that?” Jimin stresses. “I can’t choose who this happens to! I didn’t expect this to happen to me!” He runs a hand through his soft hair, exhaling sharply as his mind begins to race.

“You’re going to learn,” Hoseok claims. His eyes are sharp and narrow. “You will learn to control it. A wolf is not allowed to be mixed with a royal. They’ll kill you.”

His imprint will be kept secret from the royals and the precious baby girl. But for his wolf mates, each of them knows the severity of the situation. Not one member will speak of it, they only can respect it. As for Jimin, he’ll spend the rest of her life – your life – being what you need him to be. A friend, a brother, a protector. Whatever you require of him, he will act accordingly in secrecy while obeying his rightful duties to the royal throne.

White flurries fall slowly from the gray clouds above, decorating the large courtyard, you look down towards the sheet of fresh snow. Most of the garden that blooms the most gorgeous flowers is now a mess of dead plants and weeds. The bare trees stand firm. But those who stand strong in the winter months like hollies with red berries and camellias, continue to stand out next to the beauty of sheared evergreens and deciduous shrubs with colorful stems.

Your eyes are not trained on admiring the bright snow that cascades from the sky so beautifully. Normally you would. As you sit by your glass window with a blanket around your shoulders, you look down from your chambers on the third level of the castle to fancy something different.

Men – some of the royal guards – play around with one another in the cold weather. Some have shifted to their wolven form, others remain in their noble suits. The one you fixate your stare on is your personal guard, Jimin.

He stands leaning against the stone staircase beside a few of his equals. Chatting away about who knows what, watching the others roughhouse. Jimin is quite handsome, he always has been. For as long as you can remember he’s looked the same, minus the fluctuation of hair styles and added tattoos that linger his body and a few added battle scars.

As a guard he wears your family's sigil proudly – a lotus flower – on each of his articles of clothing. Customized into each of the guards’ crested plates of metal armor and sewn into each leather hide. 

Jimin possesses the unfair mix of unlimited masculine and feminine traits, having a soft-looking composure and full lips plus a sharp jawline and toned muscles. His voice is nearly angelic when speaking in hushed tones but also stern as ever when he leads with his strong confidence. He may not be as large as his fellow wolves, but he’s proven himself countless times to your family to have the privilege to be your personal guard. There’s nobody quite like him; no one you’ve met in your life that is.

You commend him in silence, appreciating what you can watch from afar. Even from a distance behind a glass window, he somehow manages to make your heart race. An infatuation some may call it. A yearning. He and your family have been consistent in your life, he’s comfort – as are they. But you knew from a young age, from when you began favoring Jimin’s company over others, that you need to call it ‘nothing’. Because whatever feelings that spin deep inside you are never to be spoken aloud. It’s foolish for your Kingdom, family, and you to long for a wolf who doesn’t see you as anything but a duty.

What’s more disappointing is that you don’t need to admit these infuriating feelings to Jimin, he already knows. He would never allow it to get far by cutting you short and being curt with clipped words and disapproving looks.

He is a wolf and you are a royal. Two beings who have no business intertwining besides with loyalty to the family and the job of a guard. Your acquaintanceship between another is only going to be professional. Perhaps it’s to keep the bloodline pure, untainted. How every sibling of the family is betrothed to a neighboring kingdom, growing the alliance across countries. And not one of them has a blend of wolf’s blood in them. Even though werewolves are evident in the world around you.

“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for the party tonight?” A maid who's making your bed quips up as you're daydreaming down into the evergreen.

“I’ve been stuck on deciding which dress I should wear.”

“No, you’ve been stuck staring out into the courtyard,” she corrects.

You slump in your seat as you stubbornly hold your position by the window. When you look back down, you admire the off-brown and black tones of that particular wolf you fancy. She isn’t wrong, you know. His kind eyes and kind smiles make you feel warmth like no other, and you enjoy seeing them when you gain the chance.

“I can multitask,” you feebly argue. You drag the blanket tighter around your shoulders, keeping in the warmth of your body as much as possible. “Besides, the party isn’t for a few more hours.”

“Princess, you already have guests arriving. Half the guard is at the entrance welcoming the parties who show up early. Let’s not begin to mention how several potential suitors are arriving today. You’ve failed to marry even when betrothed. Such a shame what happened with the Jeon family.”

“I prefer not to be a royal. It doesn’t feel right the way we work,” you sigh as the joyful wolves down below have fun while you’re stuck in your tower with envy. “Can we braid my hair the way we did at my Aunt’s wedding? It cascaded down beautifully.” You speak while staring out of the window, purposely ignoring the heavier topic your maid mentions. “I’ll go with the silver dress. That one that comes with the gorgeous fur shawl.”

You notice the way that Jimin has suddenly turned to look up toward your window, half expecting to see you through the glass. Even in the midst of his comrades, he finds a way to give you an ounce of attention. He shakes his head momentarily, already scolding you without knowing what you’re supposed to be doing. Jimin knows looking for him isn’t on your agenda, you purposely put him there.

“For me to do that,” – you hear the voice of your maid – “I need you to get out of your chair and into your washroom.”

A small frown carves into your face when Jimin circles his finger in the air and directs you to turn around, go back to your business. He knows he’s escorting you tonight at the party, you will see him later. To make his point come across sternly, he disassociates his eye contact – bringing his attention back to his other peers and away from you.

“Princess,” your maid bids you once again.

Reluctant to leave your post at the window, you stand up regardless. You have a long night ahead of you while the castle starts to fill up with guests for your younger brother’s birthday party.

You can’t be bothered with the chattering staff or the nuisance of guests who flutter around the halls of your family’s castle. Each moment you find open to run away, to a quieter place and away from their eyes, you take it. Swiftly moving left and right until you can find your favorite spots to hide since you were a child. 

One of which happens to be past the hallway of family portraits. If you travel far enough you find yourself at a dead end. With cabinets, paintings, and curtains outlining every inch of the stone walls. Torches are lit to illuminate the surrounding areas, bringing light to the beautiful surroundings.

But little do most know, that behind painting number two – the one in the golden frame with green shrubbery and a little boy playing the flute – lies a secret behind it. You just need to get here without anyone seeing you sneak in. There’s no point in a secret hideout if you accidentally show it to other guests.

You wait for the time, seeing when that end of the hall becomes vacant and people rush toward the call of the buffet lines. The small talk you make with a few distant relatives is only an act, pretending to walk along with them but slipping away when you find your moment to.

Pressing lightly, the nook of a room behind the large painting greets you. It’s closet sized, filled with a few pieces of your past and littered in dust from lack of touch. Tarps are draped over unused furniture; you’re thankful that this hideout is never really used. The painting that acts as a door allows you a small peeping eyehole to look out and judge when you can come out.

The silver dress you picked for tonight's gathering is a smart choice for you; you’re able to sit down comfortably without restriction. You love the look of a free-flowing gown, falling nicely with the way you walk. Patting off a layer of dust from a chair, you’re able to seat yourself as you take an old notebook in your hand.

Small doodles linger on the pages, all drawn by your younger self. You remember each of them, no matter how terrible they may look. It’s how you pass time while hiding in here. The low lighting from the cracks of the portrait gives you most of your light source, and occasionally you will add flame to the candle that rests on the top of the desk beside you.

You scowl at the dried black ink next to the quill pen, the feather beaten up and torn. It’s been years since you’ve last touched it. Maybe browsing through all the pages of your books won’t be so bad as you loiter in your small den.

“Princess Y/n.”

A spark of panic zaps through you like lightning in the sky on a stormy day. Surprised by the voice of none other than Jimin, your personal royal guard. You watch as fingers curl around the edge of the portrait-door and a beautiful, yet stern, face peeks through. His amber eyes catch you as they squint at your mischievous behavior. 

“I knew you would be hiding somewhere.” He comments as he pushes himself through the opening and into the room. Jimin wears the guards festive wear, a beautiful pink etched coat with cream leather hide armor. He’s sure to close the door behind him; he’s more stealthy than you can ever be. “Are you upset?”

“No,” you turn your head back to the book in your hands. The weight of his gaze on you is nearly suffocating. “I simply wanted solitude.”

“You know you are to be returned. They’re calling upon your brother shortly for his ceremony. It’s a big event for him,” his tone is low but he maintains a soft tenor to it. Jimin is far too kind toward you even though he’s meant to be a guard and nothing more. His exterior has toughened over the years, as it should to fill his part. Although, the sweeter half of him sticks out to you and perhaps that’s what you’ve held onto all these years.

“Sadly, I know.” You shut your eyes and sigh heavily, “I’m not quite in the celebratory mood. I would much prefer to be in my chambers.”

“That’s selfish of you.” Jimin’s hand comes to take away your book, placing it on the desk where it belongs. He bends down to level his face with yours. “You should be happy for your brother, he’s of age to carry out duties now. To be what he needs to be. Something you should understand.”

You hear the underlying hint Jimin gives you. He’s softly scolding you, as usual. 

At first you say nothing in response. Downcasting your eyes to your empty hands as you think what can be said to counter him, but you draw nothing.

You’re the third child in the family of four. A role where you feel invisible and forgotten. Always having second bests and hand-me-downs. Once your brother, who is a few years younger than you, sprouted from the womb of your mother – all chances of your favor flew out the window. As a male in this royal world is keen, any daughter is denied the spotlight. But you never craved a place to rule, or to do what a princess must do. Your oldest sister, the most responsible one of all, desires that for herself. You see it in the way she presents herself. Aces every test and diplomacy role she is given.

The second oldest is the fairest, she didn't need to do much to gain the popularity or attention she is given. It comes so unfairly natural to her thanks to the outstanding looks she’s been blessed with. A privilege only few and far between are given. Life for her is as simple as breathing, all she needs to do is point and ask.

Your younger brother is everything that your father waited for. Of course, your father, the King, treats all his children with love and passion. Keeps you sheltered, fed, and protected. However, the moment he received a bouncing baby boy – that tears any favoritism away from you or your sisters. A male has an unfair advantage in the royal family, it’s just how the world is.

“Princess –”

“– I know,” you unwillingly stand up from your chair. Jimin straightens himself as well, taken aback by your swift movement. “I want to retire after his ceremony,” you say curtly.

You take a single step toward the door as your hand reaches out to push against it, Jimin’s hand  grabs your wrist gently, like catching a delicate rose. Softly, he lowers your arm down as he steps before you with a concerned look on his face. His eyes search for signs of distress on your face.

“You’re upset,” he affirms.

“Nothing works in my favor,” you address with a choleric tone. Anger isn’t something you want resting on the surface, but it’s leaking out of the seams of your composure. “Sometimes, I truly despise being a royal daughter.”

You stare at the digits wrapped around your wrist, noticing how Jimin hasn’t let go of you yet. It feels cruel how you wish there was more meaning to the contact. Why can’t he hold you the way you long for him to?

Your eyes meet his with confusion and sadness. The pretty amber color still stands out in the low lighting, they’re beautiful to stare at. But you can’t read what’s going on in his mind. 

Jimin feels your sadness. He is connected to you deeply, little do you know. You can never know. It’s safer this way. Slowly, he releases your wrist letting his fingertips be the last thing that brushes against your skin. He can only comfort you so much without overstepping his boundaries. If he capsizes every time you give him those hopeless eyes, he’ll lose his placement in the guard and lose you indefinitely.

“Please,” he breathes, “We must go.”

Jimin pushes the hatch open steadily, peering out through the eyehole to make sure the coast is clear to sneak back into the festivities. He leaves space between the two of you as you walk side-by-side.

Silent tension surrounds you as your heels click with every step you take. There’s a dullness in your eyes, a lack of enthusiasm the closer you approach the center of the party. The amount of people here drains you even as you wear a kind smile.

Your little brother’s coronation will go quickly, you hope. Jimin’s words resound in your head, causing you to reflect on what he said.

“That’s selfish of you.”

You make your way to your designated chair at the family table quietly. The talks and commotions between the castle’s guests, family from far and wide, don’t phase you as you blur out the noise. The red liquid poured graciously in a chalice beside you becomes your saving grace; your delicate fingers grasp the cup and run over the smooth jewels embedded on the sides.

Your eyes find Jimin’s across the crowded room as he stands on guard near one of the walls. His hand rests over the handle of his sword casually, a weapon they choose first before shifting as a last resort. He can read the longing in your eyes with a mix of desperation and gloom. 

You wait to see his expected disapproving look. The one that tells you to pay attention to something else other than him – but you don’t. He stuns you confused as, instead of his typical stern look, he looks down at the ground. Deep in thought.

Are you truly selfish when nobody around you is selfless?

Your chamber is a sanctuary. Filled with all the necessities you need to live like royalty. An abundant amount of candles have been lit to brighten the room, giving it a soft aura. 

You wear your hair down, untied from the tight braids you wore for the majority of the night. Your nightgown, cream in color and silk to the touch, is loose in all the right places. The ceremony took its time as you waited to retire for the night with the little patience you have left. You’re positive plenty of men are still celebrating at their feast. 

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

A loud thud shakes the doors to your room, a verbal grunt can be heard. You look over at your maid who does the same as she slowly walks toward the noise. There's a scurry of traffic beyond your door as the two of you try to make out the words that are being shouted. You take a step with her, but with that single step you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. Through the window you see a flash of red light. Smoke rises as pieces of the garden have been lit to flame. Upon closer inspection, you peer down your window into the once beautiful scenery to find brawls of fights. Men fighting enemies with swords, crossbows and guns.

Another thump hits the outside of your chamber’s doors and you twist your head to see your maid inches away from the handle, ready to pull.

“Don’t!” You turn frantic to shout at her.

But it is too late. Your maid already has her hand twisting the handle to pull the door open. But a force pressed the door faster than she anticipated – a body of a man standing guard slumped against the doorframe and now falling to the floor. A wound across his neck as blood smears across your family’s sigil on his leather chest plate.

Both you and your maid screech at the sight as you back away from the door. You can hear the commotion louder now as bodies rush past the halls as they run away from the intruders.

“Hide!” Your maid shoos you quickly and frantically while her first attempt of shutting your chamber’s door fails.

You’re not given a moment to think before you watch as two ruffians walk up to the door, one holding a flamed torch and a hand dagger as the other holds a handgun. They’re dirty from appearance, wearing torn up clothes but come armed with weapons that look like they belong to someone wealthy. They smile evilly, curling their lips at the sight of you as they advance on your maid.

“There’s a royal,” one comments in a ghoulish tone. They step over the body below them like it’s a fallen tree trunk. They laugh among each other, giggling at whatever is playing on in their minds. You definitely do not wish to know.

Your maid twists away, hoisting her skirt up high enough to let her legs lounge as she begins to run toward you. It provokes one of the men, making him chase her immediately as he finds it funny to stalk her. Threaten her with the slices he mimics with his dagger in the air.

Slowly, your feet have backed up along the path of your room. You make sure you keep as much furniture between you and the intruders. Your eyes remain open wide, trying so hard not to blink and miss any sudden movements.

You feel small compared to the man’s stature as he creeps closer and closer to you. Hectically, your hands reach around the tops of dressers and tables to find anything to use as a weapon. A letter opener? A pen? Anything to defend yourself from whoever these men are who impose your safe space.

More screams and shouts can be heard throughout the castle halls and outside. The place is being run down with bandits, unknown persons who you cannot identify from first glance. They wear close to all black attire, worn down from several years. Protected by pads and suitable armor, as if they collected stolen pieces and placed them together.

You hold your arms closer to your body with the heat of the males heavy gaze on you. His eyes look bloodshot as he studies your options of escape.

“Come here little royal,” he sneers while his beaten up boots scuff across the floor.

Your maid is chased across the wall, quickly making her way toward you as the other man follows her like a hunter. Herding his prey together before they set to kill.

They rush the two of you, forcing you to nearly trip over your own feet as your gown betrays you while you step on the very end of it. A small rip of fabric resounds but you’re in too much of a haste to notice from where.

Your maid screams in horror as you yell out for help. Your bodies fumble across the expanse of your chamber’s, trying to find the opportunity to rush out of the door if you can. To escape the men who run after you.

Where are the rest of your guards? What is happening and why are your werewolf guards not attacking? Who are these men and what do they have to attack the castle with? In all your years on this planet, you’ve never been caught in a situation like this. No intruder has ever made it past the front gates until now.

A knife is thrown in your direction, missing you but landing straight into the wall beside your head.

“Oops, guess I need to try that again,” you hear the male speak with malicious intent.

The other has gained enough momentum to grab your maid, pull her in as she struggles to fight him off. He’s rough, holding her arms as he pushes her against the wall. You're already rushing to her side, using your fists to hit the man on his arm and back.

“Get off of her!” you bawl, throwing your fist at him as fast as possible.

A hand grips your hair, yanking you back away from the two and onto the closest table. Your back hits the surface hard as the man presses you down. He threatens you with a dagger pointed at your face as his other hand holds you down by your shoulder.

The brute force immediately makes your eyes water as you stare up at the man in fear. You wrap your hands around his wrists to push him off, holding him off for as long as you can. Your kicks and screams do nothing to phase him, only fuels him.

You feel his hand slide to your throat; latch his ugly, dirty fingers around your neck. It’s brief, like a flash of lightning. But just as soon as he repositions himself, an arrow shoots straight into his head. Visibly shaken, you struggle to process the vicious man above you losing the life he has.

Your efforts of pushing begin to work as his lack of strength weakens by the second. A final push, not made by you – but from your personal guard, Jimin, knocks the man entirely off of you. He’s quick, already primed and prepped to shoot the other ruffian the second he turns away from your maid and to see his comrade passed out on the floor. Jimin launches another arrow with a flick of his finger, a perfect shot.

Both ruthless and merciless men seem to be dead, fallen to the floor of your chamber’s as pools of blood leak from their bodies.

You and your maid tremble in fear and anxiety. Frightened at the series of events and how the two of you were nearly brutally attacked.

Jimin wears streaks of blood across his face as his hair falls out of place. His beautifully tailored festive armor is now beaten and destroyed with stains. You look at him with confusion and anguish as reality sets in.

“Jimin,” you cry out in a broken sob. Your throat tightens and feels as if it’s being pricked by a dozen thorns while your hand runs up to touch the area where the man laid his fingers on.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth. Solemn and saddened. But he’s relieved to be here for you, even if he is cutting it short and close to being a second too late. 

It isn’t his fault the castle has been blindsided and an evil group has snuck their way inside its walls and started a reign of terror. But he takes blame for not being at your side every second that he should have been. Instead, he rushed to the frontlines once called upon. Tried to stop the invasion from penetrating deeper into the castle. 

In most cases this strategy works, but unfortunately tonight – it doesn’t.

But as the fighting continues and larger groups of people begin rushing in from all areas of the castle – equipped with tainted metals containing mountain ash and wolfsbane – the royal guards are not as prepared. A minor setback, yet it almost costs your life.

“I came as soon as I could,” he steps closer to you with sympathetic eyes. He’s hurt, more worried about how you are as he feels your dread and fear. “I’m so sorry.”

There’s still many battles being fought throughout the castle. People being slayed as guards protect as much as they can. Jimin helps you stand straight, holding you close to him as he’s escorting both your maid and you out of your chamber’s.

“Jimin,” you repeat as you hold onto him, wrapping your hands desperately around him. “Who are they?”

He brings the two of you deeper into your chamber, rushing you to a secret doorway that leads to a hidden passage. Your castle is littered with these; most guards know several entrances but not a lot of exits. It’s a maze down there; dark, cold, and gloomy as well. As a child, you would wander through some just to see how far you could reach without cowering out.

“They must be from the South. They’re fighting with wolfsbane. Their weapons are laced with it.”

It’s common knowledge that wolfsbane is rare near these grounds. It’s ordinary for them to grow down South, but they can be imported. Your family is known for being guarded by werewolves; so an attack like this must be heavily planned.

“Remember the passageways?” Jimin grunts as he pushes both you and your maid toward a panel against the wall. It’s colored like an archway, but the third one can be open with a twist of a lever. Specifically the sconce hanging to the left of it. “I need you to escape through them.”

You hear the falter in Jimin’s voice momentarily, how he sounds like he staggered his breath.

“Are you hurt?” You ask alarmingly. Your eyes frantically scan over his exterior, looking for any noticeable signs of a wound.

“Princess, I need you to go through the passageways,” he turns the lighting fixture swiftly. The secret door clicks open, a cool gust of air puffs through and hits against your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I need to protect you and the rest of your family.”

Your maid understands, already stepping through as she’s pulling you with her. Jimn is a guard, he needs to go and maintain his duty. Your maid is a servant – she is here to assist you until she can no longer. She begs you to step quickly, down the stone stairs into the pit of the passages.

“Jimin, no!” You grip tighter on his forearm as he tries to shrug you off of him. Blood tarnishes your cream colored nightgown as you’re pulled away from Jimin. It must be from those Jimin has fought already. “Come with me!”

Jimin takes your chin in his hand and inspects the distress on your face. Even when rushed, worried about your safety and life, he looks at you like he’s lost in your eyes. The gentle touch of his fingertips feels serene, featherlight even though they’re calloused through the years of combat. 

He’s moving you back into the passageway, gripping the door with his other hand to shut it on you when the moment comes. There’s displeasure spilling out of him only because he is infuriated by the way you stubbornly won’t see the concern for yourself.

“I need to protect the family. This is me protecting you,” he speaks sternly. “Please listen to me, princess,” he exhales slowly. His eyes flicker across your features with tenderness, “I am not losing you. Use the passageways,” he reminds you. “Exit at the stables. I will meet you there. You know which way to go?”

You stare at him dumbfounded at first. Like time is slowing down, but you cannot shake the feeling that you won’t see him again. You don’t feel convinced.

“B-But –”

“Go!” Jimin practically growls out his demand to you. In an instant, his amber eyes shine with a blue ring around his irises. It’s the first time Jimin has ever used that timbre with you, making you jolt away with shock. 

He warns you to watch your step and stay on the correct path toward the stables. Keep close to your maid and stay quiet. He rips off his cavalier shoulder cape, draping it around your shoulders to keep you warm as you descend into the chilly pathways. Jimin closes the door promptly, forcing you to turn with your maid and to escape to safety. Your heart ricochettes inside your chest, pounding erratically as you rush.

Throughout the narrow hallways, dripping with leaking water spouts and cobwebs, you hear the signs of savage wolf growls and barks as your royal guard begin shifting as their last resort. Cries of pain and fighting scare you further as you follow the lead of your maid, wondering how you’ll survive what comes ahead. The thin slippers still on your feet dampen with every hurried step you take as you hold Jimin’s cape tighter against your frame to stay as warm as possible.

“I am not losing you,” replays inside your head and inside your heart.

Moonlight shines from above as your maid cracks open a hardened rock exitway. You came across many forks in the maze of the castle's passageways, but you remember from your past the correct ways to take. The two of you are at the stables, you can smell the mixture of horse and hay in the air. The area is unhit from the onslaught of violence for now.

“Shall we take a horse?” Your maid suggests as she creeps behind a bundle of stacked hay.

“Jimin said he’ll meet us here,” you remind her. 

The chill of the outside runs straight through your body. You curse to yourself at your poor choice of attire.

Together, the two of you watch the distance of all the violence. You see bloodshed with many reinforcements coming from every side of the castle. The thought of Jimin being caught in this mess sends a shiver down your spine. Wolves – your family's guards – have shifted to their creature form. They’re larger than any wild wolf; standing on all four limbs taller than most humans. 

They’re very swift at responding to the attackers, taking them out one by one. But you know the attackers are fighting against them with poisonous tactics – an advantage to go against such beasts. With these weapons, the werewolves near invulnerability, speed, and strengths are weakened once hit with the toxins. You can already witness it with a few of your guards.

“We’re still inside the castle walls, Princess. We need to get out of here fast,” she insists. Her eyes scan around for an opening, an escape route for the two of you. You’ll have to be fast.

“He knows we are here!” You yell at her in a hushed tone. “I’m not leaving unless it’s with –”

Just as you attempt to finish your sentence, the loud sound of wood snapping through the entrance door interrupts you. Men rush in, manically screaming in an uproar as the flames of their torches begin touching the fodder in the stables. Setting the straw ablaze in a matter of seconds.

You and your maid slouch back into a corner, away from view for as long as you can. Horses neigh with anger, jumping and kicking as the brightness and heat of fire creeps toward them. You cannot fathom the thought of losing these beautiful warhorses as they’re each tied to their own box.

“Release them,” you whisper to your maid before you frantically get up from your position and reach for the first horse.

Your soft hands flick up the lever to the wooden door, opening it up for the horse to run through and stumble toward the exit of the stables.

The maid begs you to stay hidden, but you refuse with stubbornness. In the same breath, you hear a shriek from her as you are in the midst of lifting another lever. The attackers have noticed her and shortly spot you as well.

She looks at you with panic, “Run!”

In seconds, she is being grabbed once again by these aggressors. Forced down with a hard shove as she hits the ground. You shout, scream, and cry at the men who flock over toward her. A pitchfork near you is the first thing you see to use as a weapon. Surely you can scare someone off with the points of the tines. 

A bellowful growl grows from a stampede of three wolves bursting onto the scene. They’re far too fast for your eyes to keep up, seeing flashes of their fur dashing around you to strike your attackers. Their teeth bare as they snarl and bite into the flesh of the men, claws digging through the fabrics and skin.

One wolf is nearly all black, slicked fur making it shine in the night. Another has a warm russet color, speckled with hues of beige but warm under the ember of the fires around you. The last wolf is your wolf – you know him far too well. Brighter shades of light brown are in his face as the rest of his pelt darkens into a deep dark, chocolate color. His amber eyes, now sparked with blue, casts over to you briefly as he takes out an enemy, his paw stepping hard against his chest and pressing down.

It’s like whiplash with how fast the royal guards cleared out the stables as the fire consumes the fixtures around you. Smoke fills the air, rising heavily as thick clouds form. Pieces of the loft areas begin to break and fall as the other roped up horses huff and puff.

The stark black wolf is the one lifting your maid off the ground as it nudges her. She’s wounded, you can tell as red covers the fabric of her left arm. You take a step toward her, wanting to console and help – but in return you are barked at by Jimin. He rushes toward you, his speed frightening you as you backpedal away from the area. He stares hard at you, growling in a low tone as ashes fall behind him.

He’s moving you away, wanting you out of the area. The other two wolves bark in his direction, some form of communication you cannot understand as Jimin glances back and responds with his own call. 

The russet colored wolf jumps toward Jimin as you watch your maid latch onto the black fur of the other. She gives you a sympathetic look, mouthing the words ‘get out of here’ to you.

A large beam from above falls and crashes in the middle of the stables, breaking other fixtures in its path. Ember’s rise from the burning building with a massive gust of wind as you turn your face away from the crash.

“Jimin!” You cough as your arms shield you. Your eyes tickle in pain from the smoke, the fire’s brightness doesn’t help either.

You can feel the brush of fur against you as a heavy body presses into your front. You smell the wilderness immediately as you fall forward, burying your face and arms into Jimin’s coat. He nudges you with his shoulder and a grunt. Somehow able to understand what he’s saying.

Quickly, you pull yourself up along his back like one would do for a horse. Your face remains embedded into his fur as you wrap your arms around his neck, hooking your fists onto his coat to anchor yourself.

You move with the russet colored wolf as he clears out the path ahead of you and Jimin. Taking down any attacker standing in the path to escape. It’s difficult to hold onto a wolf, feeling your limbs tighten around Jimin as hard as you possibly can just to stay on top as he dashes through the terrain.

His goal is to get you out of here safely, remove you from the premises. He brings you farther and farther away from the castle and closer to the woods. The last glimpse you dare to make shows you the image of the russet wolf turning back toward the scorched castle grounds.

You pray for the good safety of everyone. Hope the castle is still together after the royal guard protects and saves the night.

It’s freezing as Jimin runs through the thicket of the wilderness, deeper than you ever dare to go alone. You keep your head down, pressed into his back as bitter cold breezes over the surfaces of your body that aren't protected by Jimin’s warmth. The nightgown you wear is thin, not topped with layers among layers of fabrics and wiring like a corseted dress would have. Not to mention the tingling burn to your bare feet as the winter air touches them. But he is warm. A heated beast beneath you, emitting a comforting temperature the more your fingers curl into the roots of his bristle fur.

His breath is labored, chest heaving as his limbs carry you fast. Jimin zips through the rough terrain of the earthy woods, jumping and dodging the obstacles in his way. You fear the tightness of your muscles as you cling on to him, feeling the exhaust of your body as they sore.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been a passenger on Jimin’s back. Everything has happened so quickly. It isn’t until you hear the noises of strangers. The padding of snow under Jimin’s paws begins sounding different. Now stepping on hardened ground.

Your eyes blink open as you take in the surroundings passing by. Glowing lights in tapered windows of wooden cabins flash in seconds. Secured doors and moss growth along the sides of several cabin-like housings. 

Jimin leads with a howl, rushing toward the only place he knows will keep you the most protected. He slows his pace as he draws near, beckoning with a warning call for the door to swing open and allow him in. You find yourself entering with him, a soft warmth from a low burning fireplace greets you as the two of you enter.

You feel the way Jimin stumbles, his body catching up with how taxed he must be. The way his shoulders shrug tells you to dismount him as his mouth pants labored breaths. Carefully, you slide until your toes touch the floor below you.

“Jimin?” Your first concern comes out worriedly. Your hands still roam his fur as you notice the warmth of red liquid staining your palms – even pieces of your clothes. It’s enough to make you feel uneasy about the open wounds you fail to find through his pelt.

He’s quick to move from you, tripping over himself as he walks deeper toward the back of the cabin. A low growl rumbles from his chest as a warning, unwanted contact from you.

You take a step to follow him, seeing how hurt he is – it only wrenches your heart tighter. Your eyes grow wider the further he steps away from you, scurrying himself as he barks in the air for help.

A soft pair of hands hold onto your elbow, keeping you from the beast in pain. You snap your head toward the contact, searching for the reason why you’ve been halted.

“Don’t.” A woman with dark, long wavy hair speaks in a low tone. Her skin is aged but glows beautifully. Bundled up in layered clothes, she wears a worried look just like you. But it’s because she is stressed about your concern over the wolf in agony. “He will be alright.”

The door behind her has already been shut tight as the woman urges you to sit on the closest couch. Your eyes flick back to Jimin who continues to pad down the end of the hallway, twisting into a new shape as his body slowly transforms back into a human state. It’s an image you never expected to see, completely magical and out of this world as you catch glimpses of a wolf morphing into man.

His deep groans turn more audible as his real voice is able to break free.

“Wolfsbane –” he curses out into the open as he’s hunched over. He breathes heavily, open mouth catching air for his lungs as his fingers now claw at the bloody abrasion on the left side of his chest.

From your spot on the sofa, you witness Jimin suffering in a fetal position with no clothes. He’s turned to the side, hiding what he can in his vulnerable state. His long hair, usually kept neatly pulled back, falls dramatically across his face. His nose scrunches as his lips pull back to show his seething teeth.

“Jimin!” You begin to stand up, but the woman holds her hands out before you.

“Stay, Princess! Please!” Her voice is soft.

She tries her best to be respectful, honoring your title even in the severity of a situation. “I’m his mother.” She claims before gripping a knitted wool blanket off the back of a chair and rushing over to her son.

You blink, stunned as you process all the movements and information playing out in front of you.

Jimin coughs as his head presses into the floor. You watch in horror the way Jimin’s body rejects the burn of the wolfsbane that entered his system. Jerking and moving in his place as some mystical natured element helps overcome his pain. Jimin’s mother places the blanket over Jimin, shielding him from your innocent eyes. She squats beside him, hand placing over his forehead as his face twists with strain.

“Fight it,” she encourages as she pushes back his bangs to inspect his eyes. They’re reddened on the edges. The infection attacks deeply within him. His blue shiny irises that come out when he taps into his wolf form is stationary, shining brightly as he internally battles the poisonous herb. “Push it out, you can do it.”

You catch him staring at you as he overcomes this annoyance. It’s not enough to be deadly for him, but it is a good amount to weaken his overall state for the time being. His body fights to heal properly, but he’ll be ready soon.

The first initial wave of pain eases on Jimin. You don’t notice it due to the blanket covering his body, but a small pool of tainted blood leaks out of his wound. Spoiled by the wretched poison. It’s what his body needs to do, reject it and remove it entirely from him.

“Can I help in any way?” You stand and step toward him as his panting calms.

“No, no!” Jimin’s mother’s hands shoot out, shooing you. “You don’t need to do anything! His body is healing,” she reassures. “It may not make any sense, but he is going to be good. Just give him some time. Wolves have an accelerated healing power.”

“But –” you begin to counter. You feel helpless, powerless. Your heart hurts from seeing Jimin in such a distraught state. You can’t shake the image out of your head.

“Stop,” you hear Jimin breathing out. His tenor voice aching as his body shivers. “Stay over there,” he begs. “Just give me a second, Princess.”

All you can do is wait. Watch the way the man you care for struggles with himself as his supernatural body convulses and kicks out the vicious wolfsbane as he rapidly recovers. His grunts and groans do nothing to help, making you worry even more. 

When Jimin finally settles, he lays limp on the floor. Relief washes over him as the surging pain seizes and his body begins to feel like normal once again. Sweat has slickened the roots of his hair, surely the rest of his skin expelled other toxins.

He starts to lift himself off the floor, using his arms to push him up to a sitting position first – then enough to stand. He clutches the blanket around him. Holding it tight around his waist and covering his lower region.

“Take your time,” his mother whispers. She, too, stands with him. Using her hands to help guide him if he wavers on his feet. He’s taller than her, but you can tell she’s strong from the way she helps hold her son up.

“I have to go back,” he says to her, but stares at you.

Jimin takes a few tentative steps until he catches the motion easilier. He walks over to you in concern, abandoning the dripped blood on the floorboard from where he once laid. You're shivering in place, not realizing it yourself.

“Mom, would you mind finding something the princess can change into? Clean her up a little as well?”

You waste no time rushing yourself to him regardless of Jimin pleading for you not to. That doesn’t stop the way your arms wrap around his torso, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin as you hold him. Your head curls into his shoulder as his free arm surrounds your back, pulling you against him.

“Please, be good. Back up,” he slowly walks you in his embrace. 

You feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as you press desperately against him, not wanting to let him go just yet. He’s homely like your favorite hiding place back in the castle or the comfort of your bed after a long day of duties. It feels right to be with him as your mind speaks these words of nonsense.

“Don’t leave again,” you beg as your heartstrings twinge with sadness. You think latching onto Jimin even more would be the answer of his choice, but alas it is not. His arm is placing you down on the sofa for you to sit as he kneels on the floor. Even when you try grabbing at him, he politely pushes your hands away.

“Mom,” Jimin calls out as his hands grip the bottoms of your bare feet. He runs his palms across them, feeling how frigid they’ve become. Jimin ignores the way your cold hands try to turn his head to look up at you, stubbornly keeping it down and focused on your toes. When he fails to hear a response, he shouts again, “Mom!”

“Jimin!” You call to get his attention, fingers running through his thick locks to expose his face. Cupping his cheeks doesn’t suffice either, even your attempt to tilt his jaw fails. He isn’t budging from his position.

His mother comes out of another room with an abundant amount of clothes. Each of them look heavy, thick. Enough to hopefully keep you bundled up in the chill of a winter’s night.

Jimin squeezes your feet with his hands, trying to circulate more blood flow as he tries to warm you. He suffers knowing you’re freezing, not in an ideal state. But he can also feel the way your heart pangs with confusion and hurt. He can smell the fear radiating off of your body as you process so much.

“Would you mind changing into these?” His mother comes into your view. She begins placing pieces out in order to dress. Layers ready at your will. “I can wash your nightgown. Rid you of those stains. I can try patching up the tears in your skirt.”

The doleful look in your eyes tells her enough at one glance. She sighs as a tear trickles down the bridge of your nose.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Your voice cracks mid sentence as you stare helplessly at Jimin.

It’s languid the way his eyes flick up to you, shrouded with sadness behind his lashes.

“You’re freezing,” he states.

“I’m more hurt that you won’t let me do anything for you,” you respond with irritation. “I’m fine. You’re not.” You gesture to his exposed chest, muddied with swipes of blood on his left side.

“There’s nothing there anymore. The wound is sealed already. It’s just drying blood.”

He looks down back at your feet, finally noticing his stained hands – how he’s holding you with his own filth. The thought upsets him entirely.

Abruptly, Jimin stands. Turning away from you and rushing over to the fireplace to place more wood in the burning embers. He tightens the blanket around his waist, pacing across the floor of the cabin for anything he thinks you need before he departs.

“Run a bath,” he tells his mother. “It’ll warm her up faster. Then she can change into the clean clothes.”

“I don’t want that,” you speak. “I’ll take the clothes as they are. But Jimin –”

“– I need to go back,” he whips around in his spot. Jimin is fast on his feet, gathering some more blankets and gripping your hand. “My old room is just over here. Make yourself at home. I know this isn’t ideal but it will keep you safe and warm. My mother,” Jimin glances over at her, “She’ll be a great help. Please, take care of the Princess before I return.”

You rip your hand away from Jimin while stubbornly holding your place on the couch. It’s an act you never suspected yourself to do so harshly. The appalled look on your face puzzles Jimin. Makes him look down at you in silence, awaiting for you to speak.

“No,” you stare back. “Why can’t you just stay?”

“I have a duty,” he responds just as fast. “One to serve the royal family.”

“I am the royal family!”

“I am a part of the entire pack fighting for the kingdom right now. I must be with them.”

The frustration causes your blood to boil under your skin. Heat rises to your cheeks as anger takes over. He’s staring you down. Jimin is right after all. But yet again, without him even speaking, you can hear his voice repeat the words ‘that’s selfish of you’. It rattles inside your head as your lips quiver with emotion.

You turn your head, eyes filled with sorrow dropping to your lap. The scolding fire from his bright eyes hurts you deeply. Yet he doesn’t have intentions to upset you, Jimin only wants to protect you.

“Go.”

The single word comes out so cold, so unlike your usual tone. It catches Jimin off guard.

The entire time Jimin’s mother stands in silence, trying to read the room herself as the two of you cast a tense environment. She has no place to utter a single word, not here. For a moment, she shares a cautious glance with her son. Something in her eyes that tells him that he needs to do something – say something.

“Prin –”

“– I do not want to see you.” Your voice sounds meek, on edge of falling over in the pool of emotion laying inside of you. If only he can understand how important you’ve made him in your life. How special he is and the comfort that comes with him when he’s around. Imagining him returning beaten up again bothers you. Thinking he might not come back at all is even worse.

“Just, go.” You command.

“Y/n,” Jimin speaks in a gentle voice. He steps closer to you with a heavy heart, “I’m sorry.” Slowly, he leans down to level his head with yours. It’s alright with him that you refuse to look back. Jimin knows he has your attention regardless. You feel the soft graze of his knuckle run along the edge of your jaw, surprised from the tender touch. “I really am sorry,” he smiles faintly as he leans in just enough to place his plump lips delicately on your temple.

Jimin leaves your side, turns on his heel and swiftly moves out the front door. It’s a rush from the way his body forms back into wolf and his paws press into the ground, carrying him further away from you. He wants to be here for you, but his loyalty lies deep to the guards and your family. Jimin knows you are safe, under the protection of his mother and the community surrounding the cabin. He would never just leave you.

A gust of wind blows in from outside, the chill reminding you how low the temperatures are. Jimin’s mother kindly shuts and locks the door. Silence stills softly in the ambiance of the crackling fireplace.

It breaks you knowing Jimin isn’t staying by your side. The rational side of your brain screams at you, telling you he is doing the right thing. But the emotional soft boundaries you have, that are more tender than a baby bird, weakens the further Jimin is. Like a piece of your heart constantly stripping from you. Cracking and bleeding from unreciprocated love.

The gentle face of Jimin’s mother approaches you, her soft hand places it upon your shoulder to gain your attention.

“Princess,” she begins with a kind tone. “Please know, we’ll do anything to protect you. You’re in a safe place now. My name is Mira. Let’s have you change into something warmer. I can make some tea as well.”

Her words do not stop the slow streams of tears dripping from your face. You wipe away each of them the moment they pass the curve of your cheeks, frustration and heartbreak laying deep within you.

When will he come back, you begin to wonder. Will he come back? Flashes of the ruffians and ruthlessness they project remind you how dangerous they are. What damages have they done with your family's castle? To your precious belongings?

And then it reminds you… You haven’t thought about your family. Your father and siblings, are they safe and sound? Are they escorted off the property by the guards as they clean up the mess of the intruders? How selfish of you, truly, to only think of yourself and Jimin.

Your realization serves you like the small piece of bread and tea served to you on a platter from Mira. It makes you cry more about how childish and foolish your mind is.

“He does love you,” Mira speaks again. Her eyes crinkle with wrinkles as she smiles. “He does the things he does because he loves you.”

Jimin yearns to return to your side the moment his feet step out of his childhood home. He rushes back to the castle grounds, reconnecting with the king's royal guard and abolishing any trespasser standing in his way. He fought for hours with righteousness and duty, tearing apart men limb from limb as he dodges the poisonous silver weapons laced with a venomous herb. When the time comes that the invasion of hoodlums either retreat or have been eliminated by the brute force of the royal guard – Jimin doesn’t hesitate to rush back to you. 

He’s been given the blessing from his higher-ups. Notified that the castle will be on high alert while the rest of your family has been scattered to their own locations of safety. They too have their own personal guards who stand their grounds and hover their sides. What matters now is that the kingdom is still intact even after such a brutal attack. They are not overthrown and they will continue on as supreme rulers.

As for any hostages held from the invaders, they will be judged appropriately and prodded for questions and answers before the royal court. Jimin has seen this many times, but never to this extent. This is the first time in his line of duty that the castle was attacked – but he is thankful for the outcome.

He wouldn’t know what would have happened if it turned out different.

His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he slows his pace the moment his eyes lay on the door to his mother’s house. Inside he knows you are waiting, impatiently he assumes. But seeing your face again will give him a sense of relief. A calming vortex that sinks deep inside his body and warms his nerves.

Jimin’s blood pumps in his ears as he calls out to his mother in the form of telepathy – a unique trait wolves have with one another. An inner circle of connections that allows wolves to speak to other wolves. Mira is ready by the door, twisting the handle and allowing Jimin a swift entrance into the house.

He tries to step quietly as his heavy wolf form causes the wood flooring to creak under his steps. His pads resound a soft thud as he walks. At first, he expects to walk straight to his room as he remembered he offered you his place to rest. But as his nose picks up your immediate scent, he realizes that you’re still resting on the couch right in front of the fire.

“She hasn’t moved,” Mira murmurs under her breath. Jimin’s mother stayed up all hours he was gone, watching and keeping you company. “I’ve given her plenty of tea and washed her face with a heated cloth. I’ve kept adding more wood to the fire to help. Even in her sleep, she still shivers. She may have hypothermia,” she warns.

He wouldn’t put it past him if this is the case. You were never made for enduring February winters in just a nightgown after all. Barefooted may he add.

Jimin walks over you, his nose sniffing at your skin to seek any discomfort your body may radiate. You lay there bundled up as much as you can under heavy fabrics of wool and fur. Jimin smiles to himself fondly as he sees the way you tuck your chin into the blanket and cover your nose.

A tentative look is shared between Jimin and his mother before he nudges his head against your arms.

You rouse from your slumber momentarily and your immediate reaction is to tighten your body and move to a more comfortable position. However, Jimin doesn’t allow you. He nudges you again and this time he digs his nose between the crack of your arms, prying them open so he can slot his head through and force your arm around his neck.

Mumbling in your sleep, you groan at the annoyance of being woken up. But when you feel the soft bristles of fur against your face and the undeniable warmth coming from them, you cling onto whatever is pressing against you.

It wakes you further. Enough to make you register enough to know Jimin is in your arms right now. Your fingers cling onto him tightly, screwing them into knots as you inhale deeply into the side of his neck. He smells like the frozen forest mixed with burning embers; the smell of smoke clogging between his roots.

His warmth is what reminds you of home. It forces happiness to leak out of your eyes as a warm tear drips onto his fur the more you bury your face into him. His movement forces you to wake up, urging you with a tug to get off the couch and follow him.

Leisurely, you hang from him while he ushers you to the other room – his room. Your feet stumble as the two of you pass Mira. You don’t care how clumsy you look, you’re just happy to have Jimin back.

“Jimin,” his mother tries speaking in a hushed tone. “Remember who you are to her.”

He doesn’t stop his stride as he enters his old bedroom with you nearly hanging off of him. It’s upkept well thanks to his mom. Nothing moved or changed over the years. With a few more nudges and suggestive pushes, he has you falling into place upon the mattress. It’s low to the ground, easy for him to step on it even in wolf form and lay comfortably as you attach yourself to his back. 

This form is undoubtedly the warmest. And with his wolf form he serves as a natural furnace for you. He doesn’t mind the way your fingers dig into his fur or the way your cold body presses desperately against his. He allows anything that will warm you up.

His eyes meet his mother’s as she leans in to shut the bedroom door. Words and feelings cannot describe his unfair bond to you – but with werewolves, they have a mutual understanding of how things work.

Jimin groans with a huff before putting his head down on the bed. He stays awake, alert, and listens to the sounds and conversations running through his head. Even when the threat is over, he still stays guard. Ready to pounce on anything that comes toward you.

For now, you may sleep comfortably. Jimin will be able to tell you later about the results of the castle and your family. 

You’re greeted by coldness as you toss and turn. The fresh chill pricks your cheeks, jolting your nerves to wake when you want nothing more than sleep. Chirps of wild birds sing outside of the window that casts a dull ray of sun into the room. It still looks dark out. There’s also an ache in your joints and muscles, particularly in your neck.

Perhaps you slept awful,  used to having your luxury linens and perfectly fluffed pillows. Instead you spent the night balled up, tight, against the only thing that holds heat.

The fire isn’t what saves you from the brisk cold of winter. It is the tender bristles of a wolf’s fur that hordes blissful heat, warmer than a copper pan filled with rocks warmed at the edge of a fire.

But you are not welcomed with that same softness of Jimin’s fur anymore. When you turn again, you realize you press against the smooth surface of his broadened back. Black ink decorates down his spine in the phases of the moon as your eyes focus from the haze of sleep. Does it make any sense to see the man you adore, shirtless with his back to you in the same bed? 

Absolutely not.

Your clogged head tries to clear the fog of confusion as you edge away from Jimin. He’s tucked under the covers, just as you. His chest rises and falls slowly, in a deep sleep. He’s more exhausted than you, his body fought all night. It makes sense he finally collapsed into a resting state; relaxed and dare you say, delicate. The branded ink shines subtly as his skin, miraculously still smooth, feels even warmer under your tender fingertips. Slowly, you trace invisible patterns onto his skin, mesmerized by the way he doesn’t pull away from you.

You feel guilty for snuggling up closer to him, knowing very well he isn’t in a conscious state for him to put you back in your place like all the other times. But you feel drawn in and addicted to his warmth and security in such a tender position.

Jimin inhales and exhales deeply, shifting his head when he feels your fingers tickle the nape of his neck. He shifts in his sleep, moving his body enough to force you to freeze. His hand reaches back, swatting away your hand as if it is a dainty bug crawling on him. But he realizes it’s nothing but a hand – your hand – and instead, he grips it. Pulling it around him and stretching your arm across his torso so that he can hold it against his chest. Jimin curls himself in a fetal position, dragging you flush against his back.

“Stop tickling me,” he murmurs in a groggy voice. He huffs out a small burst of air, humor laced with it.

Your forehead presses into his spine, a small smile creeping up on your lips.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Silence falls once again except for the subtle sounds of Jimin’s breathing. You could stay like this forever if you were able to. Ignore all responsibilities of life and stay with Jimin. Deep down, you secretly wish this. Having his protection and solace, bringing you solitude and clarity. You know that he is all you will ever need. He’s been exactly everything you need him to be in your life, even when times get tough and he guides you to do something you’re stubbornly against. It’s all for your well-being. Your overall happiness. Jimin has never steered you down the wrong path; even if it’s the path you wouldn’t pick yourself.

He is strong in many ways you aren’t. Rational and accountable. You know he will do everything in his power to let you have the perfect life and he will never leave you.

This feeling of unfulfillment with your heart always reminds you how a large piece of him belongs there. No matter how much room you make for your family and potential suitors that come your way. Nothing will fill the undeniable love you have toward your personal royal guard.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. This time with a different reason.

You’re apologizing for yourself. For the position you put yourself in even though you never win the fight with your emotions. How you cannot control this bond between the two of you and how you cannot change the way you feel toward him. You know you could never be with a wolf, let alone your own personal guard. The years between you doesn’t matter either. Jimin still looks as you first remember him, minus the added tattoos, scars and array of hair styles he’s sported. He has always been your guard, a figure to look up to, a brother, and a best friend without being them at the same time.

The connection you feel with Jimin is unexplainable. A natural magnetic draw you feel. A compelling force screaming at you that this – he – is exactly what your mind, body, and soul needs.

“Get some more rest,” Jimin urges as he squeezes your hand a little bit tighter.

“I am being honest with you,” you declare.

“So am I,” Jimin’s sleepy voice seeps through.

Your small tiff stirs Jimin awake. He turns slowly, still maintaining his hold on your hand as he faces you. The small puff of his cheeks shows you how tired he must be as his eyes remain closed. Jimin leans in, pushing your head into his chest as he rests his face into the top of your head.

“Rosemary,” he speaks out loud. He inhales slowly, admiring the sweet scent of the herb used to wash your hair every night. “It suits you so much.”

You feel a flush of warmth coursing through your body in such an intimate position. You have never been this close or tangled with Jimin like this before. There’s faint scars across his chest from what you can see, memories of past battle wounds that cut too deep perhaps.

“Are you hurt?” You question. Wondering how his body never correctly healed these specific marks.

“Not anymore,” he hums as he pulls you in tighter.

You can hear the faint beating of his heart as you twist your head to lay against his chest. It thumps calmly, like a lullaby whispering in your ear.

“Why are you here?” You dare to question. 

A heavy thought that’s been weighing on your mind for far too long. You want to thank him for welcoming you into his solitude and keeping you warm throughout the night. Even then, you hardly remember moving from the couch to this bed. Jimin sharing a bed with you doesn’t make any sense to you. Especially how he rests with no clothes on; assumingly you believe as the blankets cover more than your eyes can see.

“Warmth,” he responds. “I had to keep you warm. But I fell asleep.”

“Why are you still here then…?”

Jimin exhales deeply. He still rests as much as he can even with your quizzing questions.

“I’m pretending I’m still dreaming.”

“Dreaming?” You blink.

“Yes.” Jimin’s hand gingerly raises to stroke the side of your head, brushing off any stray locks. His palm is so warm against you, the contact heating you instantly. “A dream. Would you like me to leave?”

“No,” you blurt out faster than you expected. “I just don’t understand,” you try leaning back to look at his face.

“Princess,” he tsks. “How can I explain this?” He questions himself more than you. Jimin places his lips on your forehead and rests them there as he contemplates his words. “A wolf cannot be mixed with a royal. But you desire a wolf. And a wolf desires you.” He hesitates with the next sentence that leaves his mouth. “However, it will never be allowed. And thus… a dream.”

“You dream of this?” You ask, stunned.

“Don’t you?” He huffed a laugh. “I know you do. There are times that I can read it all over your pretty face. I can feel it too.”

“I-I,” you feel flustered. Your feathers fluffed every which way as Jimin speaks so carelessly of such a sensitive subject.

“I know how you feel for me,” he states. “I’m sorry you do. Even when I try to keep you on the right path, show you your responsibilities and guide you to your title's destiny… you found a sanctuary in me.”

Jimin continues to stroke your face with his thumb, his nose breathes out hot air against your forehead. He caresses you tenderly, holds you dear to him as if he is afraid to let you go.

“I’ve… I have always loved you,” you confess. Swallowing thickly as your throat closes up with emotion. Jimin allows you to slide your arms around him again.

“I know. I can feel everything you feel,” he sighs. “Your happiness. Your sadness. That painstaking broken heart every time you’re forced to live your reality.”

He smiles softly against your skin, peppering small kisses where his lips rest.

“I also feel the way you can’t control your emotions. How you constantly battle with what’s right and wrong. How not a single person draws your attention more than I do. I can’t really explain how I can feel these things,” he tilts your head to look down into your eyes. “It won’t make any sense.”

In the soft morning light, his features are more admirable. His skin glows beautifully, like a natural highlight illuminating off of the edges of his face. Jimin cracks open his eyes, only slightly, to peer down at your innocent expression. A face he’s seen for many years after being scolded or pressed for answers. The beauty in his eyes, that crisp amber hue, shifts a shade darker as they land on your parting lips.

“Jimin, I don’t want this to be a dream.”

You’re honest about it. The aura of intimacy is fueling the room so purely, it’s nearly smothering. Jimin allows his walls to break down for you to enter; let’s you in his space even when it goes against everything the two of you know.

His thumb flicks your bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh under his digit. He can feel the natural draw, how his body is aching with a tantalizing need to kiss you. To have you, just for now, before he must go back to reality.

“I’ll do anything for you,” he declares as he looks down at you sadly. “I devoted myself the very first moment I saw you.” His breath shakes as he lets out a breath he was holding.

“Princess,” he begins, the small curve of his lips upturning. He knows this is dangerous, it’s not allowed. Years of pining and rejecting you, fearing the system of the world and the way of life, he’s taking his one and only opportunity to be selfish. A thing you know so very well. Jimin leans down, lips nearly brushing yours, “Please forgive me.”

Your lips press together in a gentle embrace. He pours his unannounced love for you with this kiss; all those years of pent-up, hopeless desires and unfathomable attachment finally burst through with the only way he can show you. 

There’s no way of telling how long your kiss lasts; and eternity sounds like an understatement. Your breath hitches in your throat, surprised by the act and realism of Jimin – the man you’ve grown to love throughout all these years – has committed such a sinful, yet delightful, treason for the sake of his own greed. The same act you do not disgust, appall, or dislike. You greet it, after a few moments of shock, with happiness. A passion of feeling what you pined for all this time. Acceptance, understanding, and need.

Jimin’s warm fingers run along the side of your face and down the length of your arm. “Pretend it’s just a dream.” He smiles in between kisses.

A subtle tear breaks the brim of your eye as you capture Jimin in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. You bring him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting his tongue in your mouth. 

When it’s just a dream, you’re allowed to cross the lines of right and wrong. Do the things you want to do, impulsively or not. That’s why you don’t bother to wait when you desperately cling to him, tangling your soft fingers through his messy hair. You feel the way Jimin presses himself into you, not a care of his royal guard status or what your title is. He brings his love out to another being – you.

You feel the gentle pull of his hands at the lining of your padded clothes. There’s so much keeping you bundled, but he’s sure he can keep you warm with his body. His hands roam under the fabrics, feeling the touch of the soft skin of your hip. He skirts his hand up your back, pressing his palm onto you to drag you into him.

“Are you sure?” You question him as if you’re being fooled. Tricked into thinking this truly is a dream and not something you will remember.

“I’ve never wanted something so desperately,” he admits with no embarrassment. “So many times I’ve had to tell you to look away from me. Entertain these other suitors… It hurts. But I know I will always be there for you even if your feelings aren’t as they are now. Even if you didn’t feel for me. I can’t help that. I’m bound to you.”

Your eyes roam the expanse of his body that you can see against the pale sheets of his old mattress. His words send glee to your heart. Had you known this hurts him as much as it hurts you, you would do something about it. Find a way to make something work. There must be a way.

“I’m sorry for being so distant with you in regard to your emotions. But, I do it to protect you. I’m not right for you.” Jimin whispers as his lips reconnect with yours. A carnal desire brewing deep inside of him, no doubt inside of you too.

“Jimin,” you whimper against his mouth. The crack in your voice is threatening to snap.

“Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t,” you sniffle. 

Your head is a clutter of sensitive emotions ransacking your brain. Clouding your headspace as if you are in a daydream. But you accept it. Allow this illusion, real or not, to be as real as it can ever get.

You accept him and this moment of time.

The heat of Jimin’s body keeps you warm from the chilled air outside of the sheets. Slowly, he shifts to have you laying on your back as his body crawls over you. Jimin plants soft and wet kisses down your jawline to a sweet spot on the side of your neck, multitasking with the buttons of your thick clothes.

The second he is able to free portions of your body from the garments, his skin slides over yours. Touching every delicately smooth surface of your body. Rising goosebumps through each sway of his fingers across every inch. You melt into his touches, a quiet whimper and pleasant hum escaping your nose.

“You’re so beautiful,” he comments as he levels his head with yours. He takes a moment to peer down at your morning face, admiring the way you look even with a rough night. Jimin remembers your eyes the most. How genuine and curious they are. He reminisces about the first time; when a shot of an electrifying spark penetrated his entire being because of his imprinting nature… how it connected him to you for as long as you live. “I will never lose you.”

Jimin can feel the way your body speaks to him. How together all your nerve endings and atoms feel as if they join like a perfect puzzle. It leads him further to your core, trailing his hand tentatively as he waits for a clear sign for him to continue.

He presses himself gently against you, showing you his growing need for you. The hardened appendage pokes you like a soft tapping on a door, trying to be as polite as possible.

You take his face in your hands, pulling him down for another emotional kiss. You nod to him, giving him the clearing to roam your most secretive bits.

After removing the access clothing from your legs, his fingertips glide up your inner thighs. He shivers when he inhales suddenly, taking in the small whiff of your scent. Instinctively, and almost casually, you bend your knee to allow more access for him.

Jimin’s fingers ghost over your core, brushing against the edges before feeling the slick heat from your lower lips. He teases you at first but not on purpose. Jimin swallows nervously, fighting with his body to remind himself to take things slow.

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at the plump piece of flesh as his index finger runs down your slit. You shutter with a breath of hot air blowing out, enjoying the foreign touch.

Unsure what to do with your hands, you begin to run them down his hard chest to mimic the similar style of approach he does on you. Though you’re halted the moment you hit his navel by his hand.

“Allow me to focus on you,” he requests in a soft tone. He raises your knuckles to his mouth where he plants a chaste kiss to them.

He suggests for your hands to remain away as he descends down the valley of your breasts. Each tender kiss he leaves to your feverish skin in the commute to your lower region has you squirming. You hoist the blankets over your body as Jimin disappears underneath them, taking the heat too. He’s able to maneuver skillfully between your legs, slotting himself neatly as you spread them wider.

You don’t get to see the way Jimin licks his lips when his eyes focus on your core for the first time. How your scent hits his nose at full force, reminding him how beautifully wet you’re becoming with the tension built up around you. His finger returns to you, sliding down your slit and nudging against your clit. It causes you to jolt, instinctively closing your legs around him as much as possible. But he keeps them open with his hands and body as he moves closer.

Peeking under the covers, you see the dark hair of Jimin sinking between the junction of your thighs. You capture the scene, branding it in your memory the moment Jimin’s mouth abruptly comes down on to your clit. You cry out, gripping the blankets in hard fists as his tongue languidly flicks over your sensitive bud as his finger teases your entrance.

“Shh,” he tries to tame you when he inserts his finger into you. You clench tightly, shift your legs even more as your body adjusts to Jimin.

He’s wondering what you’ll feel like if he inserts another, if it’ll pull another whimper and a moan from you. And he has to; to spread your entrance wider and stretch your walls open enough to allow him inside. Prepare your body for the intrusive thoughts bleeding into his mind of your body shaking under him with pleasure.

Jimin curls his fingers once he adds a second one into the mix, slowly pumping them in you at a steady pace as his lips caress your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud so dangerously, it makes you cry out even louder and begins to disturb the silent winter morning air.

His free hand comes down to your waist to stop your hips from bucking into him. Jimin releases his mouth from you and calms his fingers as he hushes you once again.

“Quiet, Princess. Please.”

“Jimin, I-I’m-” You pant softly. Your chest shakes with the rise and fall and intense pounding of your heart.

“Don’t be sorry,” he interjects. Jimin slides himself up your body again while still securing his fingers inside your core. “I know it’s hard to not be loud.” He places a kiss to your cheek before finding your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his plump lips. Gently, he adds a third finger into your entrance and captures your whine with a sealed kiss.

He uses this moment to experimentally widen your walls with the scissoring effect of his fingers. Fighting off the impulsive clench your body naturally does. When his thumb presses into your clit your body jumps.

Your hands rush to his head, combing through his hair as you fight to anchor yourself on something.

Jimin winces from the strength and harsh pull, but he doesn’t let it bother his actions. Instead, he is kissing your neck again as his hand wraps around your back. He lifts you up like it’s easy until you’re straddling his lap, legs still parted wide for him. Jimin removes his fingers from you, allowing him to push you closer against his hardness. The contact makes his neglected member flinch with excitement.

Your cheeks prick with sparks of warmth as you look Jimin in the eyes again. Both completely naked and in each other's own embrace. Your hot slick presses against his shaft and Jimin cannot help but use his hand to push you into him again.

The blankets have fallen around the two of you, leaving Jimin’s strong muscles to hold you upright on top of him and exposed for him and only him.

“You can’t tell anyone…” he begins as his lips lock with yours. “What happens here must stay here.”

“But what if I don’t want that?” You ask, catching your breath in between kisses.

“Want and need are two different things.”

“I want both of those though,” you exclaim. “I want and need you, Jimin.”

He silences you again, but this time with his tongue. He dives deep into your mouth, groaning with the taste of you that excites him.

“Don’t ever speak of this,” he reminds you. “You mean more to me than you can ever imagine. You’re special to me, Y/n. You will always have me.”

Your heart tightens in your chest as you hear his sincere words. Relief is an understatement. The reassurance and verbal notice of Jimin’s confession is enough to send you to cloud nine. His loyalty and dedication to your family's name isn’t the only thing he cares for. The importance of you and how you are something more to him sends your heart into eternal bliss. Maybe all it took is to finally hear it from the source.

“I’ve always loved you,” you declare as if Jimin never knew this himself. 

He nods, leaning in to capture another kiss from you as your hands tugs on his shoulders. Your mouths move together so perfectly, reminding you how you want nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life. Lightly, your clit brushes against his hardened and untouched dick. The sensation of how close you are to it sends excitement through your body, arousing you more as you desperately rock against him for more stimulation with his help. Your slick drips along his lap, making the glide easier for you.

You admire the tip of his cockhead pointing up toward you, silently requesting to be touched.

“Help me,” you whisper as your legs try to help raise you above him.

Jimin positions his cock when you’re hovering over him. Your arousal drips teasingly over him, dressing the mushroom head of his tip in a shiny coat. He breathes out a strangled breath as the curse word ‘shit’ runs out of his lips. 

Slowly, you drop down on Jimin’s cock. Allowing him to stretch you open as the first inches penetrate you. He holds you up, allows you to sink down at your own pace as both your mouths open with pleasurable surprise. A silent gasp leaves the two of you breathless as you sit flush against him, ignoring any prickling pain as your walls flutter around his cock. Squeezing and unsqueezing rigorously as your head tosses back with eyes screwed shut. Jimin groans with a string of incoherent words, muffled by the way he presses his lips into the side of your neck.

“Oh,” you whimper. 

Knees already threatening to buckle and morph into jelly, your hands hold onto Jimin’s sturdy shoulders when you look down between the two of you. There’s fascination running through you as you watch the way your breasts rub against his chest each time your body moves down his; watching the way he disappears inside of you and filling you up.

The two of you moan in unison as you experimentally roll your hips into him. Jimin’s fingers tighten around your thighs, jerking his hips up to meet yours. He keeps a leisurely pace with you as he wishes nothing but to make you feel pleasurable. You can feel the way your orgasm slowly builds within you as you hold Jimin’s head closer against your neck. A desperate way of holding onto something while you begin to tremble with sensitivity.

“Is it too much?” He questions as he holds you impossibly closer to his body.

You breathe deeply, clutching his cock with your walls.

“No,” you choke out. “I need more.”

Jimin pulls you off of him to greet your face with his. He lays you down expertly, letting your body rest soft against the mattress again. Jimin is able to hook his arm around one of your legs and gently lifts it higher, testing the new angle and watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. 

You cry out his name as you feel his cock run across a specific spot inside of you, making your toes curl and back arch. The sparks in your body flying like lightning in the sky.

There’s a tightness in your stomach that shoots down to your lower region, alerting you of your approaching orgasm. Jimin notices from the way you shake with each thrust he gives. He holds your legs wide, allowing deeper access to push into you as his abdomen flexes every time his body bangs into yours.

“Like this?” He breaths out, a glimpse of blue shining from his eyes.

“K-keep… Y-yes,” you moan, feeling him hit every mark with this new angle.

Jimin lowers himself down to catch your lips with his, closing your mouth and muffing your noises to the best of his abilities. He absolutely loves hearing the sounds of your whimpers and pleasure, but he’s not trying to allow everyone else to hear them.

Another quick and particular movement of Jimin’s hips has you coming undone beneath him, bucking your hips up to match his thrusts as you squeeze tight around him. You feel the way your nails dig into his shoulders as you shake uncontrollably as Jimin continues to thrust through your orgasm. The sounds of your bodies colliding heightens with squelching noises, your dripping arousal coating his entire pelvis and leaking onto the sheets below.

With a few more sharp thrusts, Jimin pulls out of you and spills his seed onto your stomach. Dressing your smooth skin with strings of milky residue. You catch the ending bit, watching the way his cum spurts out of his cockhead as Jimin presses his pelvis down, using both him and you to squeeze his slick-hardened cock.

Jimin moans with you, still molding your lips together as he holds you close to him. When the two of you calm down from the euphoric sensations, he places his forehead against yours. He looks down at you with soft and serene eyes. Filled with love and adoration. This new sense of energy and vulnerability flows through him.

It’s happiness he shares with you when you both shyly smile at another. Ignoring all the heated labor breathes and dampened hairlines. You get lost in his eyes, wishing that the crisp amber coloring is the solution to all your worries and problems. And in some ways – they are.

“I love you.”

Jimin speaks calmly as he declares his emotions for you. His lips press into yours once more to seal his statement.

You can’t help but look up at him with watery eyes. You want to burst into a full blown cry when you see the way his eyes glisten too, but you don’t. Not wanting to spoil the moment of sincerity for either of you.

“I love you too,” you respond as you brush strands of fringe away from his softening face. It’s almost long enough to tuck behind his ear, which you scowl when you watch the piece fall right back in his face.

You share a soft chuckle with him as he moves slowly, making sure to not spread the mess on your stomach everywhere.

“I’ll clean us up and we can go back to resting for a bit.”

“Okay,” you smile softly. Your hands begin to cover yourself the further Jimin pulls away from your body. 

Jimin is quick to find a feasible cloth from the corner of the room and just as fast to return to you on the bed. He wipes you off first, as he should, before cleaning himself. He kneels down on the mattress as you try to subtly admire his entire naked body. Realizing he is still so unfairly beautiful without the suited armor and clothing he usually wears.

“I should have you know, now that you’re awake…” he huffed a laugh. Jimin slides himself under the covers, meeting your body with his. His arm crosses over your torso, hand running down the other side of you until he pulls you close by the waist. “Your family is safe. We defeated the threat last night and your castle will undergo some reconstruction from the damages. But everything is maintained again. I’m sure we will have to return within the day.”

The news makes you happy. The outcome could have been far worse in many ways. But hearing these words from Jimin is comforting. It makes you proud and grateful for him. You aren’t sure what the future will bring. How this dreamy secret must never be spoken about. What this could all mean now. But what you do know, is that he loves you too, and that is enough for now.

Moodboard credit: @/kth1

© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[colormepurplex2]

The Demon Is In The Details | Sweet, Sweet Soul

↳ Demon!Jimin x Human!f.Reader ⤜ Crossroads Demon AU, Accidental Enthrallment ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 9,928 ⚠️ Crass language, soul sucking, dick piercing, cock sucking, kissing, biting, mild nipple play/biting/there is blood involved, blood drinking, face fucking, hair pulling, choking, body worship, enthrallment/instant infatuation, begging, vaginal sex, creampie, cum play/eating, insatiable lust, lost soul, demon metamorphosis

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You’re not sure what you expected—but, a lavish bedroom complete with a four-poster bed and sitting area with plush upholstered furniture wasn’t it. It all feels so…human. You can almost pretend like you are just on an extended vacation, staying at some ritzy hotel.

“So, this is where demons live, huh?” You try not to let too much sarcasm thread into your words. “Was expecting more fire and brimstone and less velvet and lace,” you say, plucking at the lacy fringe of the canopy drapes that are pulled back on the bed.

The demon sniffs, his chin turning up in mild indignation. “Fire and brimstone? What utter nonsense,” he mutters, but you can tell he’s just sure to be loud enough for you to hear.

That prickles a bit. It’s not like you’re precisely well-versed on the whole demon thing. Are you supposed to know that demons enjoy the lap of luxury instead of broiling in sulfuric pits of steaming sludge? Everything you’ve ever read, heard, or been taught hinges on the idea that demons are hellish monsters that dwell in Hell. And considering Hell is supposed to be a place of fire and brimstone, well, put two and two together, and you don’t think your assumption is a stretch.

“Is this even Hell?” you ask.

Red eyes cut your way, and the demon’s top lip curls in disgust. “This is a hell, yes.”

“A hell?”

“Mm,” he hums lightly in acknowledgement. “One of many.”

Many? Interesting. “Like the different circles?”

The demon sighs, his red eyes rolling in annoyance. “Whatever it is you think you may know, forget it. There are no ‘circles’, no pits—unless you count the sanguine pits, but you probably don’t want to go there,” his top teeth sink into his bottom lip for a moment, his eyes turning mischievous, “or maybe you do. Another day, perhaps. Anyway, this is the…Inferna is the best human word to use to describe it. But, you may call it home, considering that is exactly what it is now; your home.” He chuckles, but you think it’s a poor joke.

“Home. Okay, sure, very funny.” The sarcasm helps to bolster your mood a bit, knowing that you can still spit words with at least a little venom.

That’s all you’ve been able to think about since the understanding of what was happening dawned on you. The fear of not being able to think for yourself, that your free will and ability to think would be stripped from you, and you’d become nothing more than some mindless demon slut.

The fact you’re able to hold this conversation is promising. But you are curious. With the deal settled between this demon and Dominique, you feel like you’ve been put in an ambiguous limbo of sorts. Dominique’s deal included you, but as she said, it wasn’t your own deal.

So, do you even have a deal with this demon? But, before you can express your curiosity further, a loud knock echoes from the double doors on the other side of the sitting area that you hadn’t noticed before.

“This should be fun,” the demon says, and it almost seems like he’s…pouting? “Come in.”

The doors swing open on a blast of hot air. Clouds of grey-blue smoke curl through the space before dissipating and revealing what you can only describe as evil incarnate. At least, that’s the feeling you get, like happiness and joy can not exist in the presence of this being. Your energy immediately wanes, so much so that it makes your knees weak.

Pitch-colored eyes set in an angular face framed by thick, inky hair give way to taught lips drawn in a severe line. His body is hidden by the billowing folds of a robe that seems made of gossamer and iron, with its constant shifting in the room's ambient lighting.

A voice as deep as the darkest chasm in the ocean and just as cold hisses through the room. “What have we here? A pet?”

“Dark Lord,” the demon at your side says, bending at the waist and bowing deeply. He straightens, casting a quick glance in your direction. “A pleasant mistake is all, My Lord. A soul come to me by the blundering of a supposed friend.”

“More fiend than a friend, it seems, if the result is this.” A smirk curls the pale pink lips of the man—demon?—standing in the doorway.

You want to jump to Dominique’s defense and argue that she’s not the fiend here, but a scathing look from the male at your side silences anything you might have mustered in protest. The look on his face says opening your mouth is probably the last thing you want to do right now. Whoever this ‘Dark Lord’ is, even the demon laying claim to your soul is intimidated by him.

“Very well,” the newcomer says before sucking in a deep, drawing breath as if scenting the very air around him. “Yes, yes, I think she’ll do well. A strong spirit, but not so strong that she won’t break. Perhaps…you might find it in you to share.”

“Share?” The word is gritted out between clamped teeth, stilted and forced. “Of course, if that is what you desire.”

“Please, Jimin, I aim only to tease you,” the being chuckles, wafting a hand complete with blackened nails and spidery purple veins. The billowing robes bend and sway with the act, stirring long shadows along the walls to either side of the doors. “Keep the little mouse. Enjoy the luxury of a pure soul for once. You’ve earned it.”

With that, he turns to leave, vanishing in a swirl of grey that disappears as the doors swing closed once more. Even though he’s gone, there is one thing that he left behind. A word. Or more so, a name.

Jimin.

“So, Jimin, huh?”

A low growl rumbles from the demon before his ruby eyes slice your way. “You will not use that name.”

Despite your lack of belief in demons and all the abracadabra nonsense prior to this, you’ve read enough to know there can be power behind knowing a demon’s name. However, you’re not sure how much power there is. But you’re willing to find out.

“What’s the matter, Jimin—” you twist the name with emphasis, “—don’t like it when someone might have power over you, Jimin? It is a taste of your own medicine, perhaps, Jimin?”

You part your lips, tongue poised to continue your taunting tirade, but in a flash, a warm, rigid hand is clamped over your mouth. Fire burns in the deep recesses of Jimin’s eyes. It's not just a pseudo-flame trick of the light, either. Real flames dance within the blood-colored irises. They undulate and grow brighter with each rise and fall of his chest until you’re certain smoke is going to start pouring out of his ears at any moment.

“You know, I thought I quite enjoyed your fiery spirit. But now, I’m not so sure. Maybe just a little tweak, a little taste, and you’ll…be…just…right.” As he says the words, drawn out and slow, you feel a little tug in the center of your chest.

The feeling starts out light, barely a string’s caress between your breasts. But gradually, it turns into a thick line of yarn that you’d swear was slowly unraveling your soul the way it would from a skein. There is an ebbing clarity, a fleeting thought that this is something you’re certain you should be resisting.

But you can’t seem to tear yourself away from staring into those flaming depths. Simply a moth drawn to the flame, heedless of the blaze threatening to engulf you.

His body presses against yours, hard and hot in contrast to your soft and freezing. The fact your body is chilled right to the bone only registers now. The trembling starts at the tips of your fingers and toes before your entire body shudders against his. Yet, you still can’t will yourself to look away.

“W-what are y-yo…you do-doing to…to me?”

The words sound hollow to your ears, thin and thready, like a weak pulse compared to the hammering of your heart that’s forcing your blood to woosh with staccato punches. The edges of your vision darken, and you struggle to blink or look away, to do anything to break the fevered contact.

“Perfect,” Jimin purrs, the sound registering the second before whatever is holding you in place diminishes, and you slump forward. Strong arms cradle your body, an arm sliding under the backs of your knees to lift you bridal style. Whereas your eyes wouldn’t close before, they now refuse to open. The darkness, such a contrast to the fire you were captured by before, makes your eyes ache and water. You can feel the trails of your tears cut through your hairline and blend with the perspiration gathering there.

Hot and cold. Light and dark. It’s hard to tell up from down at this point—warring emotions, seemingly endless confusion. You feel like you’re floating weightless in an abyss, though distinctly aware of how your body curls against smooth silk covering warm flesh.

With a sigh, you find the strength to open your eyes, meeting those crimson rings once more. Except, this time, there is no fear…no confusion…only peace, deeply rooted and infinitely spread through every fiber of your being.

You can see yourself reflected in those endless, vermillion depths. And what you see is…different; still you…but different—hungrier, a feral tinge that you know should frighten you.

😈😈😈

Jimin

The taste of your soul still lingers in Jimin’s mouth, making saliva pool under his tongue. It was the tiniest taste, just a sampling of what’s to come. But, fuck, if it didn’t make his cock hard and his chest ache from the restraint he used to hold himself from draining you completely dry while sucking the marrow right from your bones.

You are quite possibly the most exquisite creature he has ever laid eyes on, much less had the pleasure of savoring. His anger at Yoongi is quickly dissipating, replaced by the erotic thrum of the call of your soul. It beckons him to drink more, to devour you completely.

Jimin didn’t want to do this so soon. He’d intended to drag this out as much as possible, playing a game with his own constraint to see how long he could withstand your allure. This is Yoongi’s fault. If the Dark Lord hadn’t come in here sniffing around things that were not his, letting things as precious as names slip, Jimin wouldn’t have been so forced to jump the gun.

He had little choice in it, he’s sure. If you had continued to twist his name with your perfect lips, you would have indeed begun to wield the power behind it. With each additional drop of his name, he felt the knot forming at the base of his spine. The one that triggers his survival instincts and forces his hand.

Perhaps it’s for the best, he thinks, as he effortlessly carts your limp body over to the bed and lays you out. Your head lolls from side to side, eyes fluttering as they adjust to what Jimin knows must be an unpleasant ache deep in your psyche. It might be millennia since he became forsaken, but the memory of how it felt has not diminished.

Not that he’s going to let that happen to you. As it is, he’s undecided on how this is going to play out in the end. He has a deal with your friend that you will remain unharmed, and sucking out your soul until you become a demon doesn’t necessarily harm you. It’s mildly uncomfortable, but all together, not exactly harmful. Well, not to you physically, at least. That’s not saying much for you emotionally…spiritually.

Dominique should have been more precise in her demands—unharmed can mean anything. Though, he knows there could be room for argument that he was being deceptive. He shrugs to himself. He’s a demon…it’s to be expected. Words hold all the power. They are Jimin’s preferred weapon of choice for a reason. It’s why he’s so good at what he does, why Yoongi bestowed the crossroads task upon him all those centuries ago. Yes, if your so-called friend had truly cared, she should have been far more specific in her request and should have read between the lines before offering her blood and sealing your fate.

Jimin looks down on you from beside the bed as you slowly regain your senses. He has to adjust himself in his trousers, his arousal growing with each barely audible mewl that whimpers from your lips. If he were a lesser demon, he might not be able to keep himself from pouncing in your weakened state. As much as Jimin likes to dominate, he’d be curious to see what comes naturally now that a part of you resides in him.

“Mmm,” you moan softly.

Your eyes slide closed once more before finally popping open, wide and full of clarity. They find his, and what Jimin sees there has his whole body going taut with anticipation. You look like a feral wolf about to spring on an unsuspecting rabbit, and Jimin just so happens to be said rabbit. If you keep looking at him that way, perhaps he won’t mind being the prey for once.

“Whoa,” Jimin chuckles as you lurch upright in the bed, swinging an arm wildly in his direction, fingers hooked into claws. “Give yourself a minute.”

There is a thick, sultriness to your voice that wasn’t there before as you say, “I…I feel—I want…what did you do to me?” You bring the hand you swung at him up in front of your face, flipping it from front to back again and again as if somehow you’ll be able to physically see the change in yourself.

“Only what I’m entitled to.”

Your eyes snap to his, sharp and calculating. He’s intentionally cryptic, but he knows you can see straight through his deliberately obtuse response.

“Entitled to? The deal was for you not to harm me!” you snarl, teeth barred in his direction. Jimin decides it’s a cute look on you, like a stray kitten gearing up for a hissing match. Too bad for you, Jimin’s trained in the prowess of being a lion.

“You are unharmed,” he snaps back, eyes flashing.

You cringe, and Jimin almost wants to take it back. But that won’t do. No, not for what he has planned for you. As appealing as your defiance is…no, Jimin needs this far too much.

He realizes just how hungry he is.

Absolutely, ravenous. And he knows exactly what he wants to satiate the ache.

You mutter something under your breath, and if Jimin didn’t have the super hearing of a demon, he’d surely miss it. “Why am I so gods damned horny? Now is not the time to be jonesing for a joyride on a monster dick.”

“I think now is precisely the time to be, as you say, ‘jonesing for a joyride on a monster dick’.”

The surprise on your face is second only to the way your heart lurches in your chest, so intense that Jimin can distinctly hear the upbeat roar it launches into at his words. Both make Jimin feel powerful, in vastly different ways. Your lips form an enticing tiny opening as you gape at him, and the blood rushing through your body notches up the pulsing thrum he knows you can feel spiking through your clit now. The mere notion of riding a dick has your body primed and aching already.

“What did you say?”

“I merely repeated what you said. I don’t typically fuck on the first date, but seeing as how this isn’t a usual first…I think I can make an exception.”

In fact, Jimin is almost sure that if he doesn’t find himself in one of your holes in the next five minutes, he might make a fool of himself, similar to something a teenage human boy might experience. Typically, he doesn’t get to enjoy the tender confines of a human, not unless it’s part of the demon deal they make—which, thanks to the influx of paranormal romance stories out there, has increased somewhat in the last handful of decades.

The tip of your tongue pokes out and absently moves over the roundness of your bottom lip. “I don’t know if I understand what you’re saying.”

That’s cute; you trying to play it off like Jimin’s proclamation didn’t just create a wave pool in your panties. He can smell it, the light, tangy scent of your arousal. It blooms in the air as you shift to your knees on the bed; you’re unknowingly filling Jimin’s lungs with the smell of your dripping cunt.

He takes a deep, appreciative breath and allows a moment of tense silence to hang in the air between you. The thread snaps, thin as gauze. You’re on him in the next instant, one hand fisting in his hair and the other ripping at the buttons on his shirt. Your knees slide over the silk of the duvet as you simultaneously pull Jimin until his thighs knock the side of the bed and your front is pressed to his.

“Take your clothes off,” Jimin states, and you immediately stop your frantic groping of him and begin to shed your own clothes. “Bare yourself to me.” Jimin’s top lip quivers as his mouth forms around the commands, power bubbling in his veins as the small piece of you burns his insides; pain-laced pleasure threads through his every fiber, and he wants more.

Jimin follows your movements, watching as you strip off your long-sleeved shirt, tossing it aimlessly to the side before doing the same with your bra. You roll back onto your ass and kick your legs out in front of you across the bed and tear at the zipper and button on your jeans. It’s cute, the way you snarl and hiss at the offending denim as you wrestle it, along with your panties, down your legs. You finally kick free of them and, in the process, send a cloud of your heady arousal right into Jimin’s nose.

It’s enough to make him feral. The moment your last article of clothing falls to the floor, you splay yourself back on the bed, knees wide and arms extending above your head. Like a present, freshly unwrapped, and his to play with. Your hooded gaze meets his, like a challenge daring him to let his eyes drink their fill; and, oh boy, do they.

You are utterly divine. Jimin wants nothing more than to lick and kiss every inch of your striking skin, starting with the tender flesh behind your ear and ending with the points of your toes, mapping out your body like the temple that it is. Your nipples are tight peaks straining toward the ceiling, and your pussy lips are already slick and swollen with want; you paint the picture of perfect sexual carnality.

Jimin watches as your mouth tries to form his name. When it doesn’t come, a line forms between your brows, and you manage to gruff out a different word instead, “Demon.” It’s nowhere near as seductive as his name, but he’ll consider it a term of endearment all the same.

He chuckles, gripping your ankles and using a flex of strength to flip you around and position you on the bed just how he wants you. Your head hangs off the edge, hands raising in surprise to brace on his hips. Your chest rises and falls in quick succession, your breathing so harsh he can feel the thick exhale of your breath through the linen of his trousers.

“I’ll show you ‘demon’,” Jimin purrs seductively.

The button on his pants pops under his thumb, and the zipper slides down swiftly. Before Jimin can push them down, you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants and shoving them down. It’s an awkward angle for you; with your arms bent how they are, you only get them down his thighs. But, it’s enough. With a sway of his hips, Jimin gets his pants to drop to around his ankles.

He could use his power to disrobe instantly, but he finds this far more entertaining. Jimin revels in the slack-jawed look on your face as you take in his rigid length protruding in front of your face. The piercing in the tip glints in the ambient light, the first pearly string of his arousal already beaded and webbing along the silver ring.

Placing a thumb against your bottom lip, Jimin gently pries your jaw open until you’re stretched wide enough he can tease the tip of his cock inside. Your chest convulses, nostrils flaring as you continue to suck in greedy breaths through your nose, considering your mouth is growing fuller by the second as he continues to feed himself into the hot, wet confines. Using twin fistfuls of your violet hair, he holds you steady.

You swallow around him, the contracting of your throat sending tingles down Jimin’s spine and making his balls draw up as his whole body shudders. His control slips the tiniest bit, siphoning a sliver of your soul. It slams into him, causing him to jerk forward and drive even further into your throat, cutting off your air.

“Fuck!” Jimin roars, his eyes squeezing shut as he denies his body the release that nearly swept him away. This can’t be over yet; he’s just getting started.

😈😈😈

You gag, effectively choking on his cock as his pelvis presses flush against your chin, and you can feel his heavy balls crowd in close to your nose. There was a moment there, where you felt connected to him in a way that should scare you, but a different kind of fear quickly replaced that feeling. Panic looms heavy in your chest as your lungs protest the lack of air, but you can’t bring yourself to shove Jimin away.

It’s infuriating to be able to think his name but not be able to utter it aloud. “F-fuck you,” you rasp when he finally withdraws. Saliva strings from your parted lips to the glistening head and shaft of his cock, the tip heavily leaking pearlescent drops that mix with the glossy strands. His cloying taste lingers, and you want nothing more than to stretch your neck up and scoop those milky beads away with your tongue.

Every second since Jimin did whatever he did to you, you’ve barely had a hold on your desire to burrow into him, get beneath his skin, and pick away at his insides until you figure out how he ticks. You want to be inside of him and have him inside of you, anything to diminish what feels like a miles-deep trench between the two of you.

You’ve never felt such a visceral desire to fuck. It’s not that you’re a prude; if anything, you would consider yourself to have a healthy sexual appetite. However, this is different. This is you wholly and utterly wrecked, wanting Jimin in all possible ways.

“Oh, I plan to. But first—” Jimin teases, a wicked grin curling his plush lips. He forces you to watch upside down as he finishes disrobing. With each additional inch of flawless porcelain flesh he reveals, you grow wetter until you’re a whimpering, slick mess staring at his naked body, “—you’re going to choke on my cock some more while I taste that pussy.”

Jimin’s dirty words are like gasoline in your veins, and his hands slapping against the insides of your thighs to pry them open is the match. Heat boils beneath your skin, sweat beads and pools between your breasts, and glides down the slope of your neck to tickle your hairline.

Your mouth is open, and your tongue sticks out flat in welcome as Jimin juts his hips forward. The thick length of his cock slides past your lips, velvety smooth and tasting faintly of hot metal. His body molds along the front of yours, slick chest resting against your stomach.

The warm fan of his breath hits a second before the molten lick of his tongue slides from your clit to the cleft of your ass, his hands gripping the meat on the back of your thighs to raise your hips. Your scream at that initial contact is muffled by the thickness of his cock in your throat. Jimin buries himself in your esophagus, pistoning his hips in and out so relentlessly that you only manage tiny gasping breaths.

He doesn’t let up, pounding into your mouth with manic abandon. You have to brace your hands against his thighs, fingers digging into the muscles and nails leaving deep, crescent divots in the flesh. Sensations assault you from both ends as Jimin buries his face between your thighs.

Jimin feasts like a man—demon—starved. His tongue swirls, slides, and dips in intervals between his lips sucking and teeth dragging. Pleasure builds, starting at the base of your spine and moving up until even your tongue writhing on the underside of Jimin’s cock feels like a direct line to your clit.

“Mmf–uh!” you garble a moan that ramps into a shriek as your orgasm barrels through you.

“That’s right,” Jimin murmurs into the wet folds of your pussy, “cum all over my face and tongue, just like that.” He continues to lap at you, suckling and humming his delight.

He grunts and moans a litany of guttural words you can’t understand before emptying himself down your throat. Hips stuttering against your face, he throbs in your mouth, his piercing sliding along the roof of your mouth as he begins to pull out.

You lick your numb lips and work your aching jaw when Jimin fully withdraws from your mouth, but not before gripping the base of his swollen cock and tapping it against your tongue a few times, smearing his still-leaking arousal across your lips. You know you should feel mildly degraded, being used as a proverbial cum rag, but if anything, it turns you on even more.

“Fuck.” The word comes out like a whimper, your body clenching in the aftermath of one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever experienced.

Jimin chuckles, “I’m getting to that part.”

“What are you doing to me?” you ask breathlessly. It’s not a question you expect an answer to, more a rhetorical musing that drifts from your muddled brain. So, it surprises you when Jimin steps back and cradles your upside-down face between his hands, lifting your face until it’s inches from his.

His scarlet eyes have taken on a golden ring around the edges. They pulse in tandem with each of his breaths. “I’ve laid claim to you is what I’ve done. And before you even think about spouting off about the deal, being that you are to remain unharmed, you are. You can feel it, you know I’m speaking the truth. My claim on your soul has nothing to do with your well-being. If anything, you are now stronger and more resilient than you’ve ever been before.”

He’s right. You can feel it in your bones. Not just their additional strength but the way your muscles cling to them, and you’re sure they would neither snap nor tear no matter how far you bend them. You are no longer the delicate mortal you once were. And you’re not sure if you care, either.

If anything, the strength is addicting.

You. Want. More.

“More,” you tell Jimin. “I need more. Please.”

You’re pretty sure you would do anything at this point for another taste, another dose of whatever this is that’s now zinging beneath your skin. Jimin drops his hold on your face and stretches his arms in the air above his head, lithe body stretching in all its glory before you.

It’s rapturous watching the way his body moves. Wanting to see the vision of him properly, you roll over and push up onto your knees. Jimin slowly brings his arms back down, threading his fingers together in front of him and pushing his palms out. The distinct crack of his knuckles sends chills down your spine.

A predatory glint catches in his eyes, eliciting another visceral response from your body, this one of desire. Not caring how desperate you seem, you once again throw yourself at him, hands gripping and tugging until you’ve wrestled him on top of you on the bed. He lands in the valley between your thighs, and you wrap your legs around him, holding him in place.

“Tell me your name,” Jimin whispers in command, lips brushing over yours.

It forms on the tip of your tongue, your impulse to give him exactly what he wants. But, perhaps you’re not as far gone as you thought because you are able to resist this. Slowly, you shake your head, and a sly grin forms on your face.

“No.”

Jimin’s brow pinches and his top lip curls in what you’ve realized is a tell, indicating that his patience is thinning. You roll your hips against his, thrilled by how the action makes the line between his brows disappear, and his lips pop open with a soft grunt.

“You’re not the only one that’s clever here, Demon. If I can’t use your name, you won’t have mine.”

You can see the challenge in his eyes, the pure delight at the prospect of the battle ahead. “So be it, little mouse, but be warned: you’ll break long before I do.”

His mouth covers yours, silencing any protest you might have made to his statement. The vehement denial turns fleeting the instant his tongue presses between your lips and invades your mouth.

The tangy taste of your own arousal mixes with the intoxicating natural heat of the demon himself. He tastes like blood and ash but also like a crisp drink of water after days in the desert, both your salvation and your demise.

“Ah!” you yelp as Jimin fists a hand into your hair and cranes your head back, breaking the kiss and exposing the length of your neck to him.

“Pay close attention, pet. You don’t want to miss a second of this.” His words are murmured, so soft against your skin as he says them between open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat.

With every press of his mouth, his hips swivel in lazy circles that rub the thick shaft of his desire over your clit. It’s just enough pressure to drive you mad but not nearly enough to give you what you truly want.

Jimin takes first one nipple and then the other into the wet lock of his lips, lashing the pert tip with his tongue. The hand that was tugging your hair loosens, sliding down the side of your face before clasping around your neck like a five-fingered necklace.

You can feel the moment he begins to squeeze with his fingers and thumb, as they are so precisely placed on either side of your neck that they press against your jugulars. It creates a subtle pounding in your head, a lightheadedness that makes you hyper-aware of the way his teeth scrape over the tender flesh of your right breast before lightly piercing the skin.

A moan comes out in place of a scream as your body gives in to the depraved pleasure. This shouldn’t feel as good as it does, but it’s like Jimin is turning your entire body into one giant, throbbing erogenous zone. Pain is no longer something your body tries to pull away from. Instead, you find yourself arching your back so the points of his teeth pierce your flesh once more.

“F-fuck!” 

You can feel the heat of your blood pooling between your breasts for a moment before Jimin is lapping it up the same way he was licking at your pussy just moments ago. The sharp scent of hot copper punches the air when Jimin lifts his face and laughs, the sound dark and gravelly.

Peering down the slope of your nose the best you can, you catch a glimpse of his face before he dives back down to once again ravish the tight buds of your nipples. But that one glimpse is enough to paint a vivid picture of Jimin bathed in your blood, red eyes ringed in black, crimson smeared at the corners of his mouth, coating the tips of his teeth as he opened his mouth to laugh.

It does something to you, something primal and instinctive. Your body goes limp under him as your muscles coil before you snap. You throw your weight into him, shoving up with your hips and using the hold you have with your legs wrapped around him to your advantage. One moment, Jimin is buried between the mounds of your breasts, feasting on the tiny rivulets of crimson from his bites, and the next, he’s beneath you with a pleasant surprise on his bloody face.

“Look at you,” Jimin croons, his hands landing firmly on your hips. Using his hold, he undulates your hips, forcing the wet slit of your cunt to rub along the length of his dick, the ring in the tip catching on the hood of your clit with every pass. “You’re making a mess all over my cock.”

Bracing yourself on his chest, you let his hands encourage your hips with ease, luxuriating in the silky glide between your thighs. You’re relatively certain with just a few more minutes of this, and you could get yourself off, Jimin’s own pleasure be damned. But, it seems he picks up on that, and with a scoff, he uses his grip on your hips to force your body still.

“Don’t be an asshole!” you whine, digging your nails into the muscles of his chest. His dusky nipples stand out, and without thinking about it, you lean down and capture one between your teeth the same way he did yours. The skin pulls tight, and you love the sharp sound Jimin makes; something between a moan and a grunt.

A fist buries in your hair, and your head snaps back as Jimin wrenches you up, your teeth snicking free from his nipple. Black blood oozes from around the small rip in the bud, filling the hollow between his pecs and the notch at the base of his throat. The wound closes right before your eyes, sealing closed almost instantly. “Look at this mess. Clean it up,” Jimin growls low in his throat, the words barely above a whisper.

You immediately stick out your tongue, and with the grip on the back of your head, Jimin guides your mouth down to his chest. His blood is hot and thick, tasting strongly of rich spices, like the fiery notes of a mulled wine. You feel unhinged, so completely removed from who you were before Dom buried that little box in the woods. Maybe it’s delirium, and you’ve snapped, or perhaps this is just who you’ve always been…whatever it is, you can’t seem to stop.

Lips swollen and covered in demon blood, you leave a trail of macabre kisses up the length of Jimin’s neck before covering your mouth with his once again. The mix of your blood and his is heady and addicting, the perfect match of iron and spice.

“Why can’t I stop?” you whisper against Jimin’s lips, not giving him time to answer before you’re licking into his mouth again. “Why don’t I want to stop?”

😈😈😈

Jimin

You’re not the only one who doesn’t want to stop. It’s never been like this for Jimin before. He’s never once experienced something so raw and carnal. He is wholly and utterly fucked. Or, well, he will be in just…one…moment.

“Be a good girl and give us what we both want,” he commands you, using his grip on your hair to pull your lips off of his. “Ride my cock, and don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Jimin watches as you rear up, head cocked back because of his continued grip on your hair, reach between your thighs, and wrap your fingers around his rigid length. You stroke your hand up, thumb toying with the ring there, before sliding down. Continuing, you work your hand from root to tip a few more times until Jimin is sure he might explode.

The command to stop fucking around and start fucking him is on the tip of his tongue when you finally comply. You take him in one swift plummet, impaling yourself on his cock with a strangled cry that echoes through the room.

Cracks form in the dried blood around Jimin’s mouth. He can feel it pull and tug as his lips part with a groan. Your body moves over his, hips and tits bouncing. Loosening his hand in your hair, he slides it down at the same time he brings his other up. You fit perfectly in his hands, and the soft mounds of your breasts mold around his fingers as he squeezes them appreciatively.

“I can f-feel you so deep.” You’re mewling, panting and whining, the sounds a symphony of eroticism and pleasure to Jimin’s ears.

The bite marks on your chest have stopped bleeding, but Jimin still appreciates the way the dried crimson smears of his feasting look under his hands. Everything about your body drives him crazy and turns him into a barely-restrained animal.

The only reason he hasn’t shoved you face down on the bed and rutted you like a beast is because he wants to enjoy you a little bit longer before completely destroying you. He knows he would lose control of his abilities, gobbling down the rest of your soul in one gulp.

“Look at you, taking my cock so perfectly,” he grunts, digging his heels in and flexing his hips up as you drop down, forcing himself even deeper. You keen, increasing your pace as he continues to meet you stroke for stroke. Slipping his hands down, one latches on your hip, and the other presses to your lower belly, thumb finding your clit and swirling in precise circles.

“I, uh, fuck! I’m going to—”

The cresting of your orgasm cuts off your words. Your body shudders with the release, walls intensely contracting around his cock. Warmth floods Jimin’s body. He can feel every pulse of your body as if it’s begging for a reward.

Keeping his hold on you, he redoubles his effort, pistoning his hips into you at a manic pace. His thumb continues its assault on your clit, earning him delightful whimpers and moans from you.

“Give me another one. Fuck!” he grunts. Tears streak down your cheeks at the overstimulation, but your body gives him exactly what he wants by clamping down on his cock with your next orgasm.

Jimin can feel the way his tip pulses and his shaft grows engorged before his body succumbs to the pleasure, and he explodes, filling you so completely that torrents of cum leak from around his cock and string across his pelvis and your thighs.

The release rips his control to shreds and before Jimin can stop himself, he’s taking another hefty draft of your soul. It settles along the fibers of his being, coating his insides as thoroughly as he just coated yours.

There is no regret or remorse for the accidental slip. Jimin luxuriates in the euphoric aftermath. Post-soul sucking is nearly as good as post-orgasm, and he just so happened to experience both in the span of mere seconds. Reaching with one of his hands, he scoops a thick drop of cum up with his finger and lifts it to your mouth.

You don’t hesitate, wrapping your tongue around the offered digit. The moan you release is soft and sweet. Jimin drags you down, capturing your mouth once more in a devouring kiss.

He’s wholly and utterly satiated…for now.

He only hopes you’ll be as amiable to his new revelation because he’s finally made up his mind. Jimin plans to keep you…no matter what he has to do, no matter the words he’ll have to twist or who he will need to manipulate.

You will be his…

Forever.

😈😈😈

You try to resist Jimin as the weeks pass by, but your resolve is as formidable as wet paper. You’ve lost count of the times you’ve had him inside of you—welcomed him within the confines of your body and subsequently fed him slivers of your soul.

After a while, you begin to seek it out…hungry for his touch or rousing him with your lips around his cock, swallowing whatever he’ll give you. It’s unclear where the line was or when you crossed it, but here you are…lost in some in-between limbo.

You roll over, shoving away from Jimin’s naked body, and slide off the bed, his taste still clinging to your tongue. You’re still feeling the aftereffects of whatever just happened. Whatever it was, it wasn’t sex. At least, not regular sex. It was something…just something else.

Each time, it feels like a whole new experience. He shows you something you never thought possible and has you so wrung out you forget to question it. You can still feel him inside you, not just the phantom girth of his cock, but somewhere deeper. It’s like he’s permanently etched onto your bones now. As weird as that sounds, it’s exactly how it feels.

Crossing the expanse of his room, you stare at yourself in the mirror above an ornate chaise. You prod a finger beneath your eye, pulling the bottom lid down. No matter how much you poke and rub, the distinct red ring circling your pupil doesn’t go away.

From what little Jimin has told you over the weeks about what’s happening, you understand that you’re now a few pieces of your soul lighter. He assured you that you’re unharmed and as long as things go well, then when the deal with Dominique is complete, your soul will be restored…if you want it to be. Those were his exact—cryptic—words.

If you want it to be?

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask, not for the first time.

Jimin shrugs, not having to ask you what you mean because somehow he has this innate ability to just know what’s on your mind. His nonchalance as he lounges against a mound of pillows on the bed grates. He’s acting like a cat that’s gotten the cream…and you suppose, maybe he has.

“It means exactly what it means.”

Dropping your hand from your face, you turn and bracket your bare hips with your hands, eyes narrowing in his direction. His answers are nonanswers, and no matter how much you try to muster anger at him over it…it doesn’t come.

You’re frustrated, yes. But anger isn’t something you’re able to grasp right now for some reason, and that should make you even more angry…yet, it’s as if you’re incapable of mustering one ounce of vitriol.

“Why can’t I get mad at you?” you ask instead of pressing your previous question, hoping maybe he’ll afford you some semblance of an acceptable answer.

Jimin laughs softly. “Because you don’t want to. And before you open that pretty mouth of yours to tell me differently…think really hard about it, and you’ll see that I am right. You love being here. Dare I say you might even love me.”

Now you’re the one laughing, though it’s a bit more hollow than you intend. “That’s absurd.” You taste the lie on your tongue as soon as you say it. “Go to hell,” you mutter under your breath.

“Already here, sweetheart.” Jimin slinks off the bed, very reminiscent of the way a serpent moves, all smooth lines and sinuous fluidity. “You’ll find some new clothes in the chifferobe. Get dressed unless you want to go to your little rendezvous like that.” His eyes sweep your naked body, and you can feel the intensity at which they smolder.

To avoid potentially missing your meet up with Dom, you rip your gaze from his and approach the aforementioned wardrobe. Within, you find an entire arsenal of clothes, all in your sizes. That’s one thing you’ve grown to really enjoy: the pure magic of the endless possibilities. You can have anything you want as long as it doesn’t go against Jimin’s wants and desires.

 You may have put on a fashion show or two at the expense of Jimin’s powers. With a simple snap of his fingers, he'd manifest it for you no matter how ridiculous the garment. It’s helped to pass the time. Between the endless fucking and having nothing better to do, well…

It’s been a month since that fateful night with your best friend at the crossroads. A lot can happen in a month. A lot that you’d never have expected. The muttered assurances and pleas you made to one another before you left with Jimin linger in your mind. Her promise to find a way to free you, your unfailing belief and assurance that she would and could do it.

And now? Well, now…you’re not so sure. Should you want to escape your ten-year fate? Probably. Do you? The jury is still out. There is one thing you do know, though. Every day you spend here with Jimin is one more day you get to enjoy the power and grace of whatever connection there is between you. You get to lose yourself in the contours and planes of his impossibly immaculate body; whether it’s human or not, you’ve decided you don’t really care because it just feels too fucking good.

The red ring in your eyes is a small price to pay in the grand scheme of it all. Your fingers flick over some of the newer garments, taking in the sleek feel of silk and the soft brush of leather. Everything in here exudes sex. Something you might have once been embarrassed by, but not now.

Grabbing an off-the-shoulder emerald silk top, you pair it with a simple pair of black jeans. The thick-soled Docs you wore the night of the deal go on after you pull on a pair of socks. The lilac of your hair has remained despite the numerous times you’ve washed it over the last month. Jimin just chuckled and fingered a lock of your hair when you asked him about it, saying something about how much he likes the color on you.

You’ve chalked it up to a flex of his power. After the first week of oddities, you stopped questioning it. The bathing chamber connected to his room offers a variety of luxury products, none of them ever seem to run out. Jimin enjoys soaking in a bath, something you’ve done with him more than a handful of times after a rough but fun session. Sessions such as dirtying up his sheets—which are always pristine and clean once more with just a flick of his wrist.

That little taste of power may make you no longer eager to escape your situation. Who you were before, the responsibilities you held, the people in your life…they all seem like a dream now, hazy and unclear. With the exception of Dominique, of course.

You’re excited to see your friend, but that’s about as far as your enthusiasm goes. Sighing, you turn to face Jimin. Who, in the span of however long it took you to get ready, has cleaned the entire room and dressed himself in a suit similar to the one he wore the night you met him.

His black hair is mussed in a way that looks sexy, tendrils falling from the coif to frame his ruby-colored eyes. Eyes that you have lost yourself in countless times and that are starting to mirror your own. You watch as a cherry lollipop appears in his hand, the wrapper already gone. It shouldn’t be so seductive, the way he using his tongue to seat the candy past his teeth. But you’re desperately turned on by the display.

“Fuck you,” you gruff, knowing he’ll deny you if you proposition him for a quickie before the meeting because it’s never just a quickie with Jimin. No, he turns anything into a full-blown, hour-long experience. Not that you’re complaining.

“Don’t pout…or do. I like the way it makes your lips poke out.” Jimin gestures toward you with the lollipop. “I’ll make it up to you when we return, little mouse. Promise.” He pops the stick into his mouth once more and then holds out his hand to you, one eyebrow raising in silent command.

It doesn’t hurt, necessarily, sliding through the space between Jimin’s world and the other—the one you used to call home. Used to? You’re not sure when that became the distinction.

The moment your feet find the solid ground of the crossroads clearing, you anticipate a forlorn feeling or for an intense desire for salvation to slam into you. Only, it doesn’t come. But maybe seeing Dominique will be the key; unlock the floodgates or something.

She appears a few minutes later. The sound of her boots crunching through the underbrush draws your eyes to the two trees across the clearing through which you followed her just a month ago.

Dominique yells your name before breaking out into a run. Jimin squeezes your fingers where his hand is still wrapped around yours. In all the time you’ve been with him, you still haven’t given him your name. But, now…he knows.

Irritation colors your insides. You snatch your hand from his, earning a soft chuckle from him, and try to plaster on a smile as Dom closes the distance and throws her arms around your neck.

“Oh my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods,” she chants, voice on the verge of hysterics. “Let me,” she begs, her hands sliding to your shoulders so she can hold you at arm's length. Her eyes sweep you from head to toe, clearly checking to make sure you’re unharmed.

“Not a hair out of place, I believe, is what you said,” Jimin says coyly. “Even the color is the same.”

Dominique ignores him, keeping her focus on you. “Your eyes,” she whispers. “What happened to your eyes?”

“Side effect of my time there.” You shrug. “I’m okay, Dom, really.”

When you were first taken, that would have felt like a lie. Now, however, it’s so far from that. You are okay—more than. You glance at Jimin over your shoulder, trying to gauge whether or not he’s listening. He’s absently twirling the lollipop's stick and humming softly, seemingly wholly tuned out.

Still, you let Dominique pull you further away. She pitches her voice low, pulling you in for another hug to disguise the fact she pushes her mouth close to your ear and whispers, “I’ve figured it out. Grann knows a way we can entrap the demon. All I need is his true name. Do you know it?”

You’ve been able to say it for the last two weeks now since Jimin lifted the demand for you not to use it, but for some reason, you don’t want to tell her, so it doesn’t feel like a betrayal. You subtly shake your head. “Sorry.”

“Fuck. Okay. I know you didn't ask for this, but you're handling this better than I thought you would. I mean, I was prepared for something like this for me, but you had no idea what would happen. Not that I think you’re handling it better than I would…I just, yeah, I’m glad you’re alive.”

Dominique pulls back a little so she can look into your eyes but still remain close. The skin around her eyes is darker, her hair a bit disheveled and the purple strands completely faded and washed out. She looks tired, exhausted, really. But what she just said sparks something in you, tickles a niggling you had in the back of your mind from a month ago that resurfaces now. She was prepared for something like this for herself? Interesting. Before you can think further on the matter, Dom sighs heavily, and your attention draws back to her tired expression.

You pause for a beat, waiting for the concern and love for your friend to come crashing down on you. Much like your anger, it doesn’t so much as tickle through your mind. If anything, you’re feeling restless and eager to finish up this meeting and return to Jimin’s quarters in the Obsidian Fortress. Quarters that, you realize now, feel more like home than Dominique’s arms do.

“Maybe I can try, though. For next time.” You try to offer her somewhat of a reassuring smile, but you’re not sure it lands. Her eyes flick over your face, searching…for what, you’re unsure. Whatever she finds there, though, must satisfy her enough that she nods.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers.

“I’ve missed you, too, Dom. You need to take care of yourself. Can’t rescue me if you can barely keep your feet.”

😈😈😈

Jimin

“...rescue me…”

Jimin admits he was barely paying attention. His own fault, really. But those two words ring in his ears as if you’d shouted them for the entire world to hear. He had really thought you were coming around, enjoying your time with him.

But this? You’re still maintaining some sort of fantasy where your little witchy friend comes to your rescue? Oh, that makes Jimin’s blood boil. How dare you. He’s done nothing but satisfy your every gods damned need and desire.

His plan for forever jumps right to the forefront of his mind. Apparently, he can’t continue to dawdle over this. It’s time to make his move, consequences be damned.

Jimin watches as you giggle and chat with your friend, completely unaware of the fury brewing a few feet away from you. He hopes you’re enjoying yourself because this will be the last time you ever do this again.

The hour drags by. But, when it’s finally time to say goodbye, it doesn’t take much effort on his part. If he hadn’t overheard the little bit of your conversation earlier, he’d almost think you were coming to him willingly—eager, even.

After the fifth time Jimin tasted your soul, he found it hard to read you. Your mind was closed to him; otherwise, he would shove right in and scour it for any morsel of information. Clearly, he’s coddled you too much. So unbecoming of a demon, and there’s only one way he can think to rectify his folly and move forward with his plan all at once…one way—or demon, more precisely—that can give him what he wants; the deal with Dominique be damned.

😈😈😈

It feels right, sliding your hand into Jimin’s. You give Dominique one final, half-hearted wave, and then your breath is stolen by the sensation of falling. It sweeps through your belly, and when you blink, you expect to see Jimin’s lavish room, but instead, you’re somewhere else, somewhere colder and more bleak.

“Where are we?” you ask.

“Jimin, what a pleasant surprise,” comes a dark, familiar voice behind you. Chills cascade down your spine, replacing the confusion from seconds before. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Jimin tightens his grip on your hand and turns, pulling you with him to face the same being from the first day you were brought to this realm. “I have a favor to ask.”

Coal-black eyes meet yours, and they widen in surprised delight. “My, my, Jimin, you’ve been busy, haven’t you? And yet, her soul is still mostly intact. Restraint and commitment, I’m impressed. What’s the favor?”

“I want to keep her.”

“Keep me?” you ask, startled by this revelation. 

Ignoring you, Jimin continues, “Forever. Dissolve my deal, make her mine in all ways.”

“Interesting,” the dark figure coos. “So very interesting.” With a swirl of dark fabric and smoke, he’s standing before you, so close you can see the purple-black pallor around his eyes and the fine points of his teeth as he smiles. “Mm, I’m intrigued. What’s brought about this request?”

Jimin opens his mouth but closes it again before clearing his throat and tightening his grip on your hand. “I’ve taken a liking to…her.”

“More than a liking, it seems,” Dark Lord chuckles. “Though, it doesn’t seem like you really need my interference. She seems willing enough.”

“What?” Jimin asks, finally looking at you for the first time since pulling you here. “But, I heard—”

“What she wanted the human to hear.”

A long, pale finger hooks under your chin and angles your head, tilting your face from side to side. “Yes, quite willing. Isn’t that so, kitten? Ah-ah, don’t lie to us.”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“If she’s a willing soul, then there is no need for protection. By that account, the deal is void,” he continues, slowly examining your face. “All you need to do is take it all…every drop of her willing soul.”

Without responding, Jimin whisks you away. You suddenly find yourself standing in the middle of Jimin’s room, with him standing right in front of you and his eyes boring into yours so intently.

“Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask.

Jimin gathers you against his chest, arms banding around your waist. “Tell me he’s right.”

“He’s right, Jimin. I’m willing. I-I don’t know…what happened, or when…maybe you’ve manipulated me somehow, and this is all your doing—but, fuck, somehow he’s right.”

His reply is hesitant, uncertain, “You want to be with me?”

Instead of reassuring him once again, you turn the question back on him. “Only if you want to be with me. Tell me I’m more than just part of a demon deal, that I’m not some coveted prize that you’re going to toss away in ten years.”

“No, no, I’d never do that. Even if I had to force you, I’d have never let you go.” At least he has the sense to look sheepish at admitting he’d use force if necessary.

“Wouldn’t that have hurt you somehow, breaking the deal?” Worry creases your brow, even at the mere thought.

Jimin shrugs, pulling you impossibly closer. His warm breath fans over your face as he says, “What’s a few years of punishment in the sanguine pits for breaking a deal compared to an eternity with you?”

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head at the crazy turn of events. “So, what now?” you ask, voice a little shaky at the sudden prospect of what he might say.

“Say it again,” he requests, breathy and fervent in his need to hear it once more, just to be sure.

It comes naturally now, saying precisely what you want.

“I’m willing.”

Jimin responds by cupping your face in his hands and slanting his mouth over yours. You recognize it the instant he starts to sip from your soul. With deep, long swallows, Jimin pulls at that little place inside you…and you let him.

You open yourself to him, accepting this as your fate. Maybe he truly did manipulate you and took away your free will all those weeks ago, but right now, in this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care. Because it feels right…this feels right.

“Sweet, sweet soul,” Jimin murmurs against your mouth. He’s greedy, tongue and lips working as he continues to taste you through the last few drops. “You’re now mine forever, little mouse.”

With eyes of vermillion and honey, you come alive…perhaps for the first time in your life.

All because your friend buried a box.

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[namfinessed]

i have died - p.jm.

genre: angst, mild fluff (7.1k) royal au! (mentions of blood, fighting and all information might not be accurate to history.)

summary: jimin knows his queen has a heart, he's known it since he set eyes on her, even if rumours whispered that she was cold, calculated, merciless, jimin held on, his queen had a heart.

masterlist

-

to be a queen, was to be powerful, they said.

it was to be graceful yet stern, commanding but caring, soft but strong, beautiful but not so much, that it took away from your strength.

to be a queen, was to be miserable, you said.

you sat on your throne, with the burden of the world on your shoulders and not a touch from someone else to cure it or take it away. your arms stayed firmly on your lap as you tried to concentrate on your advisor’s words.

“war is upon us, your majesty, everyone’s saying it.” he gestured to the court filled with old men, greedy old men who were waiting for you to slip up.

“on what basis, did you make this conclusion?” you tried to stay calm, even if a shiver went down your spine and your hands started sweating.

you knew war was going to descend on your kingdom any day now, your parents warned out about it when you were still a kid, you had been preparing for this your whole life, but it didn’t stop the nightmares, chills, or fear. war would devastate your kingdom, it would run your people and resources dry and as the queen, you were expected to stop this devastation.

“do you not see what is happening in your kingdom, your majesty?” one of the old men sneered at you as their hands tweaked their mustaches and your patience almost gave out.

beside you, your general, park jimin, tightened his hand on his sword, ready to slay the man on your command. you lift a hand in his direction, showing a sliver of your patience, and he brings his hand back down.

“i do know about the riots and the grains,” you started, leaning forward, “i also know about the affairs.” you stared pointedly at the old man, whose eyebrow started sweating as you stood up.

“be careful with how you speak to me, or i will not hesitate to tie you up and throw you in the middle of a bloody riot.” you stormed out of the room with park jimin hot on your tail, concealing his smile and an audible hush resounded around you as you walked out to the barren land.

you weren’t known as the heartless queen for no reason, you were merciless, with whomever you deemed deserved to be treated that way and you knew it wasn’t fair, but as a queen, you could care less about being fair.

“should i ready the swords, your majesty?” jimin spoke and you nodded, turning and disappearing into a room to change. you hastily undid the layers of clothing you wore, feeling more and more air enter your chest as you stood naked in front of the long mirror covering the wall.

scars from many wars ago littered your chest, thighs, and arms, you wanted to pile on all the layers of your clothing back on your beaten body.

you pushed the layers away instead, a queen shouldn’t worry about battle scars, she should celebrate them. you got your armor and boots on, feeling better when everything was covered, and stepped out.

but a sight made you stop in your tracks.

across the practice field, were two lovers, oblivious to the world, hiding away from the world under a sheer curtain, the women were holding back their smiles as they stroked each other’s cheeks, leaning into each other but leaning away, as if a magnetic pushed them close and far. one of them reached out and kissed the other’s cheek, your hand instinctively reached to your cheek, unconsciously patting the area.

never a kiss.

never has a kiss ever touched your skin.

never has a touch from someone you loved, left a ghost on your skin, like your scars did.

across the practice field, jimin’s worried eyes saw your hands stroking your cheeks, his gaze followed your line of sight to see the poorly concealed lovers, his heart twisted as he watched you push your hands away and a grimace fell on your face. jimin had never seen a smile on his queen’s face but with the role you had, he knew you didn’t have much to smile about.

“your majesty, they are ready!” he yelled, capturing your attention, away from the lovers who brought tears to your eyes. your eyes snapped to his and the vulnerability disappeared, a hardness settled in them again and jimin wished that he let you stay lost in your vulnerability for a little more.

you grabbed your sword and protective gear, struggling to put on the headpiece as you always did, jimin stepped up and snapped it into place, it was the only thing you let him do for you.

and jimin looked forward to it every day.

you fell into a rhythm, jimin was a formidable opponent, never letting you be distracted for too long, which was relieving. the sounds of swords clanging, boots kicking the sand up, and heavy breathing drowned out everything else for you.

your eyes stayed laser-focused on jimin’s movements, they were natural, clean, and sharp, and so were his father’s.

you had known jimin your whole life when he was still just a kid and learning from his father, who was your father’s general, when he followed his mom around, who followed your mum around.

his parents weren’t alive now, nor were yours.

someday, you were ten years old, your parents had left for another town and never returned, and you had to be a queen while still not understanding what death was and why it had taken your parents, jimin’s parents protected you until an unknown disease took the two of them as well.

jimin’s sword hit yours, bringing you back to the present, where you had no one to love nor protect but jimin did, jimin always knew he would protect you.

you swung back, twisting your leg to bend and hit the armor covering his stomach, he recoiled at the contact and you smirked underneath your headgear. this continued, you played the dance of defense and offense, and soon, you ripped the headpiece to force some air into your body.

“i’ll be going now.” you walked out, without looking back and jimin nodded, dropping his sword, wordlessly watching you leave.

somewhere, between being a queen while still being a child and losing everyone you loved, you had forgotten to care for another person, and between protecting you since he was a teenager and losing everyone he loved, jimin had only grown more determined to care with all the heart in him.

that was the difference between you and jimin, you lost your heart and he gained a second one. and naturally, you two never spoke anymore but jimin had always wanted to tell you about his second heart, that it beat for you, even if it meant that his head would be at the end of your sword.

-

the talk of war kept spreading throughout the kingdom and your palace became louder, so did your heartbeat in your ears, so did your sword hitting jimin’s, and so did your internal cries for help.

you marked the map as you circled it, checking entries, exits, and secret pathways that could leave you vulnerable to the enemies.

“seal the exits, don’t allow goods transport till the next week, we will put up announcements when it can be resumed, station two guards at every secret route and give them our best guns, station one guard at each entry and exit, make sure meals reach them from time-to-time and distribute palace supplies to the people, without good transport, they won’t be making money” commands flowed easily out of you, you took every advisor’s bullshit advice and decided to ignore it at all, you came up with the most efficient plan you could.

“should we seal them tonight, your majesty?” jimin stepped forward and you nodded, “tonight would be best, we have to protect ourselves before we regret it. and later, i need to discuss battle strategies with you, keep that in mind.” jimin bowed to you and stepped back as the advisors argued with you.

he watched with a smirk as you calmly explained how miserable their plans were, he watched as you put all of them in their places and left the room, leaving the air of your power lingering in the room.

“she’s just as arrogant as her father” the same old man who had questioned your knowledge of the kingdom in the court, turns his nose up with a nasty sneer on his face. jimin feels his skin start to burn in anger when he hears the noises of agreement from the others.

“she’s even worse, at least her father was a capable ruler, she’s just arrogant and nothing else,” another one adds with a smirk, and everyone laughs at the comment, jimin wonders how you hold onto your patience with these men.

“she’s not even beautiful enough to be arrogant, did you see the scars covering her arms? no wonder she isn’t married” they continued to add snide comments, sipping their drinks and doing everything but be the advisors they are.

a slam on the wooden table startles them all, liquid jumping out of their cups and onto the floors, they all turn to see jimin’s eyes burning holes into them as his hands twitch on the table.

“one more word about our queen and i will personally wield the sword that chops your necks off.” jimin says calmly, though his fury is poorly contained. the advisors quirked an eyebrow at him, “who do you think you are? you are a general, not the queen’s lapdog, behave.”

another one piped up to reprimand him, “you are no one to lay a hand on any of us, learn your place, or we will make you.”

a dark chuckle bubbled out of jimin as he quickly realized if given the chance, he would take the lives of everyone in this room in a heartbeat, “my place is to serve her, so if i ever lay a hand on you, it wouldn’t be for me, it would be for my queen.”

the advisors grew wide-eyed at the storm-like fury that brewed in jimin’s eyes as he stared at them, jimin was known to be kind, friendly, and sweet around the court, but seeing him this way, had them all clearing their throats and looking away as a sheen of fear covered their faces, their eyes flickered from jimin to the sword that rested on his hips.

it would only take him a minute to kill them all and that knowledge had all of them gulping for air.

outside the room, you held your hand to your chest as a long breath released out of you, you never left since you heard the first comment from your advisors and even if it wasn’t supposed to hurt you, it did.

and you knew jimin didn’t have to say anything, you knew he could’ve just left the room, this was the first time anyone had ever stood beside you and not against you.

jimin opened the doors to see you beside them, eyes gazing up at him with concealed fondness, your face stayed cold and distant but jimin noticed the tiniest curve of your lips.

he remembers how you used to smile as a kid, wide and with teeth, dimples curved in as you ran around the palace, having your maids chase you around, he remembers the first time you had talked to him.

“get the swords ready, general.” you rush out of the area, leaving jimin a little startled but without another word, he follows you.

-

the sounds of your swords clanging brought you peace, as your chest slowly started to loosen up, though you had to admit that your focus wasn’t great, your eyes kept flickering to catch glimpses of jimin, hidden under his protective gear and your mouth kept opening to say something.

“you didn’t have to stand up to them, park jimin” you muttered, just loud enough for jimin to hear and his movements paused.

so, you had heard.

he was wishing that you hadn’t.

“i know, your majesty.” his arms lifted his sword again, but dropped it as soon as your sword hit the ground.

“then, why would you do it?” you hated the tremor in your voice, it was so unlike you, so unlike a queen.

“i don’t know, but i can’t think of anything else i would’ve done at the moment,” he removed his headpiece to see you, to see what you felt about his words.

you nodded with uncertainty, you expected him to say that as your general, it was his duty to defend you, you hadn’t expected anything more than that.

“i appreciate it,” you said breathily and jimin nodded back, his cheeks attaining a flush from both the cold wind gushing around you and also from your words.

i would do it again, by the way, even if my life is on the line.

he felt the urge to tell you as you turned away but then his eyes caught the royal emblem etched on your armor and he swallowed his words.

“i wasn’t always like this, general, i think you know that.” tears, that you couldn’t stop, lined your eyes as you thought back to the child that you were and the world that you had to grow up in, and jimin felt his chest fill with sorrow because he knew so well, knew more than you thought he did. “i know, your majesty, i know.”

you straightened your shoulders, any trace of vulnerability escaping your body as your advisors passed the field, all of their eyes analyzing and judging you.

“we still have to discuss those strategies, come.”

-

the rest of the night, you went over your defenses again and again, eyes catching fleetingly, accidentally, and then returning to the table with flushed cheeks, jimin was delighted to be so close, yet so far, from you.

and each time, your eyes met, you felt your heart beating again, you felt yourself wanting to say things that had nothing to do with the maps spread out in front of you.

“we knew each other before all this, didn’t we, park jimin?” before you became a queen, before you owned a kingdom, jimin was present in your distant memory, “you gave me flowers.” he smiled at you, images of your younger self flashing brightly in his mind.

“no! that can’t be true, general” a smile of disbelief curved on your face, you never looked at flowers, you couldn’t imagine any part of you that would gift someone flowers.

“oh, but you did, your majesty” jimin cheekily replied, making you shake your head and look away from him, trying to remember a time when you weren’t a queen.

but jimin remembers too clearly, how you had met, how your hands touched him for the first time, when it was all innocence and warmth.

it had been a hot, summer day.

jimin’s mother was busier than usual. it was the princess’s birthday and the entire palace was geared up to celebrate it grandly.

but jimin wasn’t happy at all. his eyes were hurting from the tears he had cried, his cheeks were firing up with heat as his body burned.

he was sicker than he had ever been and his mother couldn’t take care of him, her own eyes were filled with tears that she couldn’t take care of her child but she had duties to fulfill.

jimin sat in the garden, sniffling and pulling grass, refusing to listen to his mother’s request to stay inside as his cheeks puffed up with defiance.

then, he heard soft giggles falling from the corridors into the lonely garden.

he turned to see the princess, her hand in the queen’s, her other hand gripping tightly onto freshly picked jasmines, as she walked merrily, it was her birthday after all. and even as a kid, jimin couldn’t look away from the princess.

she was a joy to see, a joy to hear.

when the princess turned to look at him, to look at sad, pouty jimin, sitting by himself, picking the grass with tear-stained cheeks, jimin wouldn’t have guessed that she would run over to him. he wouldn’t have guessed that she would take the jasmines in her hand and place them above his ears.

“flowers are happy, you should be happy.” you had told him, with a dimpled smile, staring at him for a few seconds before running back to your mother, but he watched as you looked back at him till you left the corridor.

jimin felt the traces of love bloom in his heart for the first time.

now, he sees you, so tough and powerful and as his queen, but he remembers too well how you used to be and jimin fell for you then, unfortunately for him, he hadn’t gotten back up.

at some point in the night, the sleeves on your dress ride up and your eyes widen as you push them back down, you hurriedly look up to see if jimin has seen anything, you wait to see if his face twisted in disgust, but jimin only smiles, “you are so strong, your majesty. i wish i was more like you.”

he doesn’t speak about your tears.

or your scars.

or the fear on your face.

you know that he notices it all, but he doesn’t say a word.

you didn’t know that even if you weren’t the queen of the kingdom, you would still be jimin’s queen, hot or cold, kind or ruthless, heart or heartless, nothing could change that.

and jimin might have felt it when he was still a kid, but this was the first time, that something bloomed in your heart, you weren’t sure it was love, you were just sure that it was because of him.

-

weeks later, your kingdom was sealed, business halted and time as it was, didn’t move as you and your people prepared for the war.

tensions were high, and the kingdom got quieter as everyone waited for any news about their fate, you spent every minute with jimin, formulating and discussing plans that could bring you even a sliver of hope, and every minute, your heart unwillingly grew sprouts and flowers.

“hand over the kingdom to us and there will be no blood staining your land or else, your entire kingdom will drown.” your minister read the last sentence of the letter that was sent over to you that morning and you tried to resist the chill crawling on your back.

but you knew who it was from, a much more prosperous kingdom, a much more powerful kingdom with a king, not a queen, not like your weak kingdom.

you were powerful and you have won many wars but your opponent has colonized several countries at a time so realistically, your chances of surviving his quest were slim to none.

jimin eyed your tightening fists with a glint of worry and concern as your minister hung his head, solemn from the words he just read, “what do we say, your majesty?”

you knew the gravity of your decision here, you could either abandon your land and people, hand them over to a stranger, and not look back, because you knew even if you fought back, you would be weaker, you would lose.

but you also couldn’t turn your back on your people, your father and mother wouldn’t have done that, they wouldn’t have handed your people over, and they would have fought with everything they had.

sometimes, you just wish they would be beside you, gently guiding and firmly telling you what to do. sometimes, you wanted to crawl on your mother’s lap and cry until you couldn’t, sometimes, you just wanted your father’s hand on your head, telling you to be brave.

but your wishes remained wishes, hard decisions had to be solely made by you, whether you liked it or not.

“tell them, they will be the ones drowning, not us.” you feigned the confidence you knew your court needed, and seeing everyone’s face light up as their loud cheers echoed in your court, made it easy for you to say it, even if you knew it wasn’t true.

you would drown.

and never float back up.

all because you couldn’t be the queen your people needed.

you told yourself, that it was justified to give false hope to people whose hope was weathering, it was justified to lie to your court while knowing it would be gone in flames later, it was justified to fake your power for the flicker of relief that passed over their faces.

but jimin’s eyes stayed on your knuckles that turned white, your eyes that seemed dazed and he knew you were lying, his hand rested on his sword as he realized that the cheering people, were all waiting for their deaths.

-

“your majesty, a moment of your time.” jimin stayed outside the door until he heard your voice, allowing him in. you were sitting at the edge of your cot, chest heavy and breathing caught in your body.

“forgive me, your majesty, but you and i both know that you were lying.” he spoke, with confusion lacing his voice, you were always honest, you never lied for the sake of making someone feel better. “about what, general?” he didn’t recognize the strange, lifeless tone your voice had taken.

“that we are going to survive the quest.” jimin knew as much as you did, that your kingdom would be run to the ground, even if he thought you were the strongest of them all, he knew your kingdom would fall.

“we are going to survive it,” you lied through your teeth.

“we’re all going to die” jimin didn’t know why he was arguing with you, but he couldn’t help it, this was the first time his queen had lied and he needed to know why.

“oh general, i have died a long time ago” you laughed bitterly, your stomach twisting at your words, you felt sick, trapped in yourself, trapped in this palace that gave you all of the power but none of the relief that came with love. his gaze softened as, for the first time, tears flowed down your face like a river, as sobs escaped your chest without restraint, as you sunk to the floor with your hands tightly wrung the bedding.

you had died the day your parents didn’t come back, you had died when they placed a heavy crown on your tiny head as a kid, you had died when the sprinkle of someone else’s blood fell on your face, you had died when the people you fought for called you heartless.

you had died more times than you could count, one more time, even if it was for real this time, didn’t shake you at all.

it was dying without a touch of love decorating your skin, that truly scared you. you wished for a touch that wouldn’t unravel you but would hold you together, the way even a riptide, as dangerous as it is, longs for a shore to embrace, you want just a touch.

jimin should leave, his duty wasn’t this, his duty wasn’t to console a broken queen but jimin never stayed by your side as a duty, he stayed because it was where he belonged.

jimin sunk to his knees, his hands trembling to touch you, to let you lay on him and let years of your tears run down his chest, but he doesn’t want to be at the end of your sword, he wants to be at the end of your bed, watching you while you sleep and protecting you from the nightmares that plague you.

and then you surprise him.

jimin’s breath halts as he watches you reach for him, one frail hand in the air that beckons him closer and he follows wordlessly, sitting beside you and watching as your head finds his lap. you melt into his lap, fingers falling away from your body to hug his legs, a soft hum leaves your lips and jimin’s urge to protect you increases exponentially.

it's been a while since he has seen his queen be herself, and he knows as you grasp onto him for affection, that this was you finally giving up on maintaining an image, at least in front of him.

he slowly places a hand on your back, unsure if he was allowed to touch you the way you touched him, but you only bury your tear-stained cheeks into his legs and jimin relaxes, letting his hands travel on your back, his hands burned with love as he rubbed circles on your skin that coaxed more cries out of you, but this time, they weren’t out of pain, they were out of the relief of finally being touched with love.

“jimin,” you called out, so softly even if your voice dried out from the tears, so intimately that jimin wanted to curl up to you and forget everything else, “yes?”

no general.

no park jimin.

just jimin.

“i didn’t lie because i wanted to, the kingdom will die long before the war gets here, if i don’t lie, they need to hold onto something as we go into the war, they need to believe that they can survive to even fight.” and jimin sees it, the heart that your people denied that you had, you had thought of them before anything else and he smiles to the ceiling.

“after everything goes, you will be remembered as the greatest ruler our kingdom has ever seen,” he speaks sincerely, as his hands caress the lengths of your hair, which lulls you, your heart warms but you know it wasn’t true, “no one would remember me.”

“i would, in death and life, i will.”

you hadn’t expected to be satisfied with his answer but somehow, that was more than enough of you.

you always wished for a touch to make you feel loved, to make you feel anything but jimin’s words alone held you together and for the first time, you bore a heart that was heavier than you were, a heart that dragged you down, pulled you down and forced you to accept its size.

and you loved the enormity of affection you felt, especially that it was for the man who held you so gently even if he had seen you at your strongest.

“your majesty, i have a confession.”

“i think i know what you are going to say,” you might not have cared for other people, but you did notice things, you noticed the lingering looks jimin would give you, the smile that would grow on his face whenever you put your advisors in their place, the way his tone changed to something softer only when he talked to you, you had noticed it all.

you felt the same, maybe not as long as he had, but melted against him, you knew you wouldn’t feel this way for anyone else, except the person who stood by and protected you for so long.

“but if you allow me, i still want to say it.” you peered up from his lap with an amused smile, your general was more romantic than you had thought him to be, and jimin hadn’t thought your smile could be any more beautiful than it was in his dreams, but it was.

“you are allowed,” you face him, cheeks flushing and hands trapping his, “i love you, i’ve loved you since i knew what love was.”

you were only just learning love, as your skin touched his, as you sunk further into him, as you felt cocooned by his presence, as you felt his unwavering love for you through his touch but even if it was just now, you knew you felt the same.

but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, as a queen, were you allowed to profess love for someone else? with a war approaching, did you deserve to love as your kingdom ran to devastation?

you couldn’t say it, you couldn’t allow yourself the luxury.

you just nudged further into jimin’s body, squeezing his hand as a silent way of professing, ‘i feel the same, in my heart that’s beating after a long time, i feel what you do and i will tell you, i will tell you soon.’

jimin sighs in relief, his skin growing warm as your hands desperately try to tell him what your mouth can’t and he allows his body to drape over you, hands caressing your dress and brushing your hair away from your cheeks.

“i understand, my queen, i will wait.”

-

that night, everything changed for you, you had felt so defeated before the war even started but here you were, days later, hitting swords with jimin once again, a new kind of determination drummed in your attacks, you had to win the war, you had to be with jimin.

“your majesty, i’m afraid you are getting distracted,” jimin teases you as his sword nears your throat, with an amused scoff, you pull back to drag your sword on the ground and drive it up to the back of his head, “apparently, not as much as you, general.”

you both spent every quiet night together, in each other’s arms, in each other’s words and he professed his love to you every single day, even if you didn’t say it back, and he reminded you that your heart hadn’t died, it had just hidden away, but he certainly had wedged himself into it and it seemed to you that he would never leave.

jimin raises his sword in surrender, a chuckle leaving his lips once he sees you grin widely at his defeat.

“you are enjoying this too much,” he tuts at you, “i’m still your queen, jimin” you playfully scold him and he rolls his eyes at you, “and i’m still your general, your majesty.” he tips his invisible hat with a shit-eating grin and leaves you, flustered in the middle of the ground as he walks away to greet some new members of the army.

what was this feeling that consumed you, as your eyes refused to look away from his retracting figure?

a fluttering sense of calm danced around you, your usually restless heart had taken a steady, loud rhythm and you loved the world right now.

you felt as if everything was alright, as if the skies were always blue, as if the flowers always bloomed, as if you could fight a war and win it, just to keep this moment alive.

“your majesty!” a shrill voice broke your dreamy thoughts, and your head snapped to see your minister rushing down the hallway to reach you. you hold your arms over his shoulders to steady him as he breathes heavily.

“careful, minister.” he shook his head at your words, eyes pinching shut as he panted.

“they’ve gotten in, your majesty.”

and just like that, the feeling of victory faded from you.

“what are you talking about?” you couldn’t recognize how tight your voice sounded, how your hands twitched involuntarily to your sword, and how the air in your chest knocked out of you.

not now.

not so soon.

“we sealed every exit, minister, that is not possible” you desperately tried to dissuade what he was trying to tell you, he solemnly shook his head, “one of our own turned on us, they gave them entry into our kingdom, and several civilians were beheaded just a few minutes.”

your blood boiled.

for a minute, your eyes saw complete red as your hands shook beside your body, “how many, minister?” your voice didn’t contain your fury, nor your heartbreak.

“hundred and twelve, as of now, your majesty.”

in that minute, you knew you could slay an entire kingdom if you wanted to, you knew that if you were let loose, not a single soldier would be able to keep up with you. your people were supposed to be the last ones to get hurt, you were supposed to be protecting them and you failed.

“i’m assuming, the traitor has been caught?”

“yes, your majesty.” your minister’s eyes widened in fear as you pulled your sword out, “show him to me.”

-

that night, you scrubbed someone else’s blood off your face, and frustrated tears lined your eyes but the red never seemed to disappear, as you kept washing, more and more took its place, and soon, you gave up on getting it off, you had to accept that a part of you will always be stained with their blood.

the blood served as a reminder of the people you couldn’t save.

you had spent the evening, preparing for the war that would start tomorrow, it was finally declared by your opponent in another mocking letter, and providing aid to the families who lost their loved ones, each of their cries rang loudly in your ears even if hours passed.

water droplets dripped down your face as you sat once again, defeated before the war began, at the edge of your bed, but this time, a knock at your door filled you with relief.

jimin came in, exhausted as well, but his eyes zeroed on the red covering your arms and face, without a word, he took a washcloth, dipped it in water, and sat beside you.

his fingers nudged your hair away from your face and slowly, patiently, patted the blood away, shushing you as you broke down in tears in the middle.

that night ended in jimin’s arms, with a clean face and a lighter heart.

both of you didn’t know what would happen the next day, you just knew that you had to survive for each other.

-

“line up!” jimin’s yell filled the courtyard and all the soldiers jogged across it to surround him, “you all are aware, going in today, of the severity of the situation and what it could lead to, but i trust that my soldiers will still give their best, we all have homes to return to, keep that in mind. let it serve as a motivation for you to win this, help your fellow soldiers, and keep your focus.”

all of them were nervous, all of them had left home saying their final goodbyes to their families in case they never returned, but all of them also believed in their general and his words, rapid nods came as a response from them and they started preparing themselves mentally.

jimin gestured for them to move along and they all started embracing each other, comforting words poured into the space and they soon moved away to disperse.

in your changing room, your hands slid down the scars that covered you, after today, you were sure there were going to be even more, but somehow, you didn’t mind it as much. your maids placed the armor on you, tightening it around your body and you bit back a groan.

you didn’t know how many more of these wars you could fight.

suddenly, they all shuffled away, leaving the room, causing you to turn around, confused at their actions, only to see jimin entering the room.

“i don’t know why they ran away,” he said with comically raised eyebrows and you bit back a grin, “i’m sure they must have seen you leave my quarters in the morning.” his head fell back with a laugh as he stepped closer to you.

“that can’t be, i’m so discreet, like a ninja, you know?” you rolled your eyes at him, “you broke three vases just two days ago, jimin.” he kissed your temple as another laugh bubbled out of him, “maybe i’ll learn along the way.”

“maybe you will.”

you sighed as both of your smiles slipped, there was no telling if there was a way anymore but believing that there was, it was all you could do.

“how are the soldiers?” your eyes bore into his similar, armor-clad body that came up behind you in the mirror.

“just right, your majesty, don’t worry.” his arms came up to wrap around your body and your hands rested on his arms, a shuddering breath left your mouth as the gravity of today settled in even more.

maybe there won’t be a way, maybe you will never get to hold jimin like this again.

“before we go jimin, i want to tell you, like all of them, you have me, a home and i need you to come back for me,” that was the closest you could get to professing your love, your words were pleading, begging, even if your face was passive. jimin shakes his head, his hair rubbed onto your neck as he exhaled, “we both need to come back, i’m not letting this end here.”

after minutes passed of just being enveloped in each other’s warmth, you wished you could just ignore the war and stay in this room forever, with jimin, you wished you could ignore the possibility of losing him but the loud roars of your soldiers marching to the battlefield reminded you of who you were doing all of this for.

you were the queen, jimin was the general, and both of you had duties that couldn’t keep you locked in this room.

so, with a pained heart and arms that longed for each other even if only seconds passed, you both parted to step away from each other.

jimin reached for your headgear, taking his time to brush your hair and slip it on your head, the one thing you always let him do for you and you held back your tears as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. you reached for his hands and kissed the back of them, your tears soon fell on them and jimin’s resolve started breaking.

but he sniffed, pushing himself away and wiping your tears, “are you ready, my strongest queen?” he held out his hand with a wide, albeit painful smile on his face.

you put your hand in his, trying to stay strong, “whenever you are, general.”

and as you two stepped out, the warmth of his skin spread on you, his head dipping down to give you one final smile that was filled with his ever-growing love.

you felt scared that you might never see it again.

“i love you, your majesty.”

i love you unbelievably more.

“there will be a royal wedding to get ready for after this, be prepared, general.”

-

jimin winced as sand clouded his vision, he swung his sword aimlessly, hoping to catch his opponent, his ears were ringing from all the screams of agony around him, and when the blood splattered on his face, another scream rang much louder in his ear, causing him to look away.

another soldier who wouldn’t go home.

he whipped his head around, trying to catch sight of you in the midst of all the chaos, and after ducking and running under everyone around him, while slaying whoever he could in the way, he finds you.

a soldier fell at your feet and you took a huge breath, while looking around, only to catch jimin’s impressed face, you both smiled at each other, with red dripping down on your faces.

there was a chance.

you could win this and go back home to each other.

but soon, jimin got pushed into the chaos, and another, darker cloud of sand dusted across his face, forcing him to stand straight and attack again. he couldn’t see you again but he knew you were giving it your all, so he busied himself.

only a few more.

and he would be back with you.

-

they told him that you killed the most.

that you had fought bravely, and led your kingdom to victory.

that you were the queen that they would love and celebrate, even if centuries pass.

but how could jimin love and celebrate you, when he couldn’t hold you in his arms?

when your body was carried into the palace, it had taken everything in jimin to not set the entire palace on fire. to him, a palace without you, alive and breathing life into the building, was not a palace at all.

people held him when he cried, when he wanted to drive his sword into himself, when he would try to shake your body back to life, when he wouldn’t move away from your body, people put their arms around him and tried to lift him up.

but none of them could console him, all the promises you both had dreamed about vanished in front of his eyes and he blamed every single one of them, if they weren’t so harsh on you, if they didn’t call you heartless, you wouldn’t fight till death to prove that you did indeed have a heart, that you indeed had the biggest one.

jimin didn’t have too long to mourn, soon, the heavy crown was positioned on his head, they told him that it was your last request for him to look after the kingdom you had left behind, and once it was on him, he realized the weight you carried around your whole life, since you were only a kid.

they pulled all kinds of royal clothes on him, the materials itched, they burnt his skin, and the gold threads dug into his neck, as if the clothes were his own prison.

as he was made king, the kingdom rejoiced, they were finally getting a king, a true ruler, in their words, and jimin laughed in all their faces, their history would only have one true ruler, and it was you. no one could do what you did.

the throne felt wrong to jimin, as if he didn’t belong, but he knew this was what you wanted for the kingdom you loved so dearly, and jimin would always serve your needs.

he wished, as you had, for you to come and hold him when he had hard decisions to make, he wished to melt into your lap one last time to feel the warmth that ran away from him, he wished that you were right beside him, gently guiding and caring for him.

but he was left with only the ghost of your touch, that would forever haunt him.

jimin still got up every day, he put on the heavy crown and the irritating clothes and listened to the same blubbering idiots, the way you had, and he tried his best to be the ruler you were.

but at night, he crumbled away, dreaming of your touch and your love as he hugged your headgear closer.

jimin’s dreams remained dreams.

[brainddeadd]

"Who" masterlist

Jimin x f!reader

Warnings: will be chapter specific ~ fluff, angst, and smut

Jimin released "Muse" and my brain went haywire

Part 1 : Tell me why I haven't found her

Part 2 : That I want a real good love, good love, good love, I'm tryna find a love, good love, real love

Part 3 : I wanna hold your hand

Part 4 : I want you to be mine

Part 5 : This is the last romance, I will never let go of your hand

[holdinbacksecrets]

hello friend! i have a tiny request 🥺 can you create a fake chat for BTS maknae line?

idea: the member’s crush is avoiding them out of jealousy and they cannot take it.

PS. saranghae 🫶

my love! thank you for requesting 🥺🫂🫂 only one of these is really giving avoidance + i’d say they’re more complex than just a crush, but i hope you still enjoy them all! i love you!

happy birthday jimin 🩵

maknae line: you’re jealous

[darkelixirr]

You're Mine. - Park Jimin

Just a little jealousy...

♡pairing: jealousy!jimin x fem!reader ♡rating: explicit!mature 18+ ♡genre: SMUT ♡wc: 1.3k

You and Jimin out with friends. Spending time with each other, laughing and enjoying the many conversations. He can't seem to keep his hands to himself. Always groping at your thighs, his hands going to where you need them the most.

"Jimin.. Please.." You whisper low enough for him to hear. A chuckle leaves his lips. You know he heard you, the grip on your thigh told you that. But he continued on his conversation with his friends. Ignoring the neediness in your voice.

You couldn't help but spread your legs, begging him silently to touch you. To ease the ache between your legs. You leaned back in your seat, a deep breath emitting from your lips as you squeezed your thighs together.

"So, how has it been?" You looked up, plastering a smile on your face.

"It's been g-good." Jimin tightened his grip on your thigh.

"We should hang out some time, together alone you know." You hummed, a tight smile on your face. You glanced over at Jimin. His face was stern, his eyes never leaving the boy in front of you. You placed your hand on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He let out a deep breath, straightening his posture.

You felt his hand move up your thigh, your skirt bunching up around his waist. You let out a shaky sigh. His fingers grazed over your exposed pussy, a smirk playing on his face.

"You're mine."

[vminizzle]

Beach night

pairing : husband!jimin x f.reader

genre : SMUT

warnings : making out, exhibitionism, penetration, unprotected sex, marking, creampie

words count : 1.2k

A/N : hello everyone, I’m back again. Here I offer…a mess!! This time I ain’t exaggerating 😭please this is something I wrote on my (other) blog, I tried to write it a bit better but gosh this fic is stuffed with grammatical mistakes 💀 I like to remind that English is not my first language. Well, sorry for this, have a great week.

I miss Jimin.

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED :)

M RATED

The stars decorated the dark sky as you and Jimin were laying peacefully on the empty beach.

“it looks like a tiger.” you pointed at a weird shape the stars formed.

“no way! it looks more like a pig.” you laughed at his hypothesis.

“what?” he laughed too before pulling you closer to him.

You both stopped for a while to enjoy the pleasing sound of the waves crushing gently between them.

“i love you.” Jimin whispered eyes still on the sky.

“i love you too.” you looked at him.

Jimin stared down at you for a few seconds before taking his shirt off. You looked at him confused.

"take yours off too" he grinned making you laugh but you did it anyway.

Your husband caressed the skin of your stomach with the pads of his thumbs gently enjoying the way goosebumps appear after his touch.

“so pretty. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“ I can’t believe you’re real” you said back grinning.

Jimin chuckled pulling you closer than you already were. His hand making its way up to your back, fingers stopping on the hook of your bra, a silent request to let him unhook it. Your eyes widened staring at him to know if he was serious.

“Jimin..” you started quietly.

"are you..”

“yes." he nodded.

You looked around, checking if there were people present on the quiet beach. You threw him an "are you crazy" expression.

“what if someone-”

Jimin interrupted you pointing toward the sea.

“have you ever thought about doing it there?”

“in the sea?” you whisper-yelled.

He smirked “exciting, isn’t it?”

You lowered your face playing with your fingers. You never thought about this but now the idea of doing it there, under the stars.. it sounded so romantic yet so .. dangerous.

What if someone noticed you?

You gulped locking eyes with him before nodding. Jimin smirked before standing, pulling you up with him.

“If you’re not sure we can stop at any moment” he pecked your lips. You nodded, letting a small ok. 

He started stripping off walking toward the sedate water, his lower part disappearing more as he kept going forward. His muscular back the only thing you can see now as he stopped.

You took a deep breath, unbuttoning your shorts and kick it off your legs. Your hands coming behind your back to unhook your bra. You took off your panties feeling embarrassed as you keep looking around walking quickly to the water. You’ve never felt this exposed before.

Letting your body swallowed by the sea, you could feel the sand under your feet, the water wasn’t too cold but enough to make goosebumps raise on your skin. The water was now covering you just above your chest. You approached your husband, his arms immediately enveloping you.

“I feel so naked” you muttered against his bare chest.

“maybe because you’re naked, no?” Jimin laughed.

“Y’know what I meant… I feel more naked than usual.. I mean we’re in public and I feel more y’know" you whined.

He nodded understanding you “if you feel really uncomfortable we can go back.”

“mmh yea yea it’s ok" you replied before pecking his lips. Jimin smiled pulling you closer, your chest on his as he kissed you. His lips so soft on yours as you put your arms around his neck. He looked at you before touching your thighs, motioning for you to "jump". You wrapped your legs around his waist, one of his hand holding your thigh, the other one placed on your lower back.

The water felt warmer, the gentle breeze pleasant against your bare skin.

“Can I?” he asked, hand leaving your lower back to grab his cock slowly pumping it.

"yes” you breathed out.

Jimin positioned himself at your entrance, his forehead on yours. You felt the familiar stretch painful yet pleasurable as he penetrate you slowly.

"I’m gonna move baby” he said when he bottomed out. You gripped the back of his head pulling him for a slow and passionate kiss.

Everything felt too good to be true. The little waves moving your bodies, making him lose his balance and making you both chuckle. You loved these types of moments it made you felt happy.

Jimin thrusted in and out slowly, your legs tightening around his waist as the pleasure started running through your veins.

“It feels so g-good babe” you whimpered.

Your husband smiled before leaving little wet kisses on your neck, murmuring how good you felt around him, how much he loved you.

He furrowed his eyebrows, his grip on your thigh tightening, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“fuck” he groaned as your walls suddenly clenched around his cock.

The stars in the dark sky were so pretty, but the moonlight reflecting on the love of your life was even prettier. You admired his face, he was so handsome and adorable at the same time. 

You let out a loud moan when he hit your special spot making you weak.

“Jimin r-right there! yes right there.”

He did as you said doing his best to pleasure you. Your walls started convulsing around his cock as he kept on hitting your g-spot. The pressure around his length made him lightheaded. It felt too good, everything was perfect at this moment.

“fuck don’t stop clenching around me! I’m so close” he moaned into your ear. His moans being one of your biggest weakness, it made you roll your eyes to the back of your head.

You squeezed your eyes shut tight as you felt the oh-so-familiar knot in the pit of your stomach. You felt like you were about to explode when he bite on your shoulder blade. You tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling on the black locks as your orgasm washed over you.

"fuck I’m coming Jimin I’m-“

You let your head fall forward on his chest as you come around him, trying to catch your breath you slowly sucked little marks on his neck.

"cum for me my love..hm do it babe” you whispered against the marked skin still breathless.

You clenched around him pushing him on the edge “baby I’m so close I’m-“ he moaned loudly as his warm cum filled you up to the brim.

“I love you” Jimin breathlessly whispered head buried deep into the crook of your neck.

“I love you.” You caressed his hair as he peppered little kisses on your neck. You stayed like that for awhile, enjoying the moment, each other’s warmth.

Jimin pulled out, gently helping you down. He kissed you lovingly smiling into the kiss.

"let’s go." you said splashing him with water. You both laughed before "swimming back toward the beach.

"babe” you said stopping in your track. 

Jimin hummed waiting for you to continue.

"our clothes..” you trailed out.

His eyes widened at the missing pile of clothes. You glared at him “what? I don’t know.. it’s not my fault!” he put his hands up in defense making you sigh.

—

a/n : gosh it’s a mess. Well if you read it until the end wow thank you a lot because it’s definitely not that good. Sorry again for the many mistakes, my english still sucks and I was tired asf when I was finishing it :( love y’all ♡

[jmvore]

As wild thoughts won here's a little idea,how about getting jimin pretty jewellery and dressing him up making him feel pretty,could add cross dressing too and maybe encouraging him to go on a date like that as a way of expressing his feminity

Pretty in Diamonds

» rating › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » warning(s) › MOMMY!KINK, smut, jimin naked and wearing diamonds, jacking jimin off in front of the closet mirror, cum eating, calling jimin nicknames, telling jimin he's pretty. sweet talk turns into dirty talk real quick. » words(s) › 1.9k+ » post date › 12/14/2023 » song playing › got to be with me by black buddafly » a/n › so I got carried away and didn't include the cross-dressing (I completely forgot) but I hope you like this version.

"Jimin!" You call his name as you enter the door with a giant present. You don't know where he is within the house, but you know he's home. He told you he was. Plus, his car is outside. "Petal! Where are you?" You sing, placing your purse on the entryway table and throwing your keys into the bowl.

The lights are off downstairs so the only place he could be is upstairs (or maybe in the basement but you doubt it).

"Sweetheart?" Heading upstairs, you hear the shower running, but instead of surprising him, you decide to wait for him on the bed. Coat off and hung away in the walk-in closet, heels kicked half-hazard by the door. You'll shower afterward, eager to give him his gifts right now. To pass the time, you scroll through your Amazon cart to see which gift you want to buy him for Christmas.

You don't realize the water has stopped, and the door swings open. Jimin walks into the bedroom with only his pajama pants hanging low on his hips as he dries his hair with a towel.

"Oh hey, You're home!" Jimin says, grabbing his water bottle off the dresser and taking a swig. "I thought you were going to be late?"

"Seokjin sent everyone home for the night. Something about not wanting people to feel overworked."

"Oh." You wave for him to come closer as he eyes the box next to you. " What's this?"

"Something for you, my love." You hold the box to him with a soft smile, though your eyes shine excitedly at his reaction. "I hope you like it."

"Cartier?" Jimin eyes grow wide at the name on the box. "That's exp-"

"Nothing is expensive when it comes to you, Petal." He avoids eye contact the moment you take his hand, but you notice the pink dust that makes its way across his cheeks.

"What is it?"

"Open it." You notice his Adam's apple bob. "You'll like them, I promise."

He nods, tearing at it to open the bigger box, when he notices two smaller boxes inside. He gasps, head snapping back to look at you.

"Darling, really?" He asks, eyes bugging from his head.

He's so cute you wanna kiss him silly.

"Mhmh." You don't give him room to argue, pushing the box closer. "Open them."

He does it with quickness. One of the boxes containing a body chain while the other contains a necklace that connects the pieces together. He holds the jewelry in between his fingers as he inspects the silver chains.

"You didn't have to."

"I know but I wanted to."

He grins. You didn't have to get him anything but he knows that arguing with you is impossible because you love spoiling him.

"Do you like?"

"Are you kidding me?" Jimin hugs you tightly and leans down to kiss you, but you stop him with an index finger to his lips. "I love it. Thank you!"

"You're welcome, honey. They had one that would've gone around your waist but I didn't want to overwhelm you with gifts. C'mere, Try them on."

"Help me?" You nod, pulling him to stand in front of you. The jewelry is easy enough to figure out. When he finally gets it on, you can't help but drool at how hot he looks. Your focus lingers on his chest as you reach out and trace the jewels that outline his chest with your fingertips. He leans into your touch, his eyes filled with emotion. You feel a spark of electricity shoot through you as he leans closer to kiss you again.

This time you give him what he wants.

"I love you so much." You nip at his bottom lip when he pulls away, eyes closed but with a satisfied smirk on his face. He twists a bit, trying to look at it from behind but he can't see it.

"Well? How does it look?"

"Gorgeous." You look him in the eye to convey your sincerity. His heart races as he takes a deep breath and giggles, his eyes twinkling with appreciation. An overwhelming sense of joy overtakes you. You're glad he's happy. "Now. Strip."

"Huh?"

You turn around and pat him on the behind.

"Strip."

"R-Right now?"

"Yes. I want to see you wearing nothing but the jewelry, Petal."

"Okay." You can see the way his eyes shift and the way he fidgets with his thumbs gives it away. He's nervous. His body language speaks volumes as he seems anxious and unsure about himself. He seems uncomfortable in his own skin. He keeps glancing around the room as if he is searching for an escape.

You stop him before he gets inside of his head. Encourage him to slow down, take a deep breath, and go at his own pace.

Telling him he's worth the wait.

"Petal."

"Yes?"

"Look at me, please." He does when you take his hand and bring it up to your lips to kiss, gently. He looks away shyly, her cheeks flushing harder than before. You watch him run his hands through his hair before shaking it out. He finally looks up at you, his eyes filled with a ray of emotions. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing."

"No." You grab both his hands and shake her head. "None of that. Tell me, Petal."

"I dunno. I jus-" He frowns, hesitating before speaking. His voice barely more than a whisper, "I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh baby. No." You wrap your arms around him and hold on tighter. His body feels warm against yours. You don't want to let him go. "Look at me." You caress his chin and bottom lip as you gaze into his eyes. You feel like you're looking into the depths of his soul. You both stand there, connected, in the moment. He can sense the warmth and love in your expression. He feels safe and protected in your arms. "I know it's going to take some time to undo all the hurt they caused but I'm willing to work but you have to work with me."

"Do you trust me?" You walk backward to sit down on the edge of the bed before holding your hand out for him and pausing. Waiting for him to answer.

"I do."

"Let me show you're worth it."

When Jimin steps closer, he drops his pajama pants, revealing he has nothing on underneath. You start caressing his chest before running your nails down his stomach, his muscles tense at your touch.

The feeling was a bit overwhelming.

You help him fix the chain that wraps around his chest, the jewelry making his chest look bigger than it is but it makes him feel so classy. so delicate. so beautiful.

you scoot to the front of the bed where the mirror on the closet sits. opening your legs, he sits between them and leans back into you. you know he's eyeing himself from head to toe.

"How do you feel looking at yourself, my love?"

"i-" Jimin's breath hitches the moment you put your hands on his waist and give it a soft squeeze. you move to sit on your knees and hug him close. your chin sitting on his shoulder.

"tell me how do you feel, petal?"

"pretty. it looks pretty on me." you smile as he shyly glances down. it makes you want to hurt the ones who hurt him because who would even think about tearing this angel down.

"ah, ah... eyes up sweetheart."

"darling..."

"you know what I think?" you ask, trailing your finger down the expanse of his stomach again. you watch a chill run down his spine as he shakes. "I think you look ravishing. the diamonds bring out your eyes and it makes me want to worship your body while you wear them."

jimin whimpers, closing his eyes the moment you reach for his cock. you know he's sensitive to the touch if the way his cock is leaking says anything. red, swollen and oh so pretty, just like he is.

"i'm close..."

"I know you are. you know what I want you to do?"

"No..." He moans. The warmth of your tongue he feels climbing up the side of his neck causes him to shudder. He leans into you, his lips parting slightly, his heart racing. You press soft kisses to his neck, your lips lingering for a moment. "H-Honey..." His breathing quickens the closer you get to his ear. His heart thumped in his chest as you turned his head so he was able to look at you.

Finally, you pull away, leaving him wanting more.

"I want you to watch yourself cum all over my fingers." You watch him through the mirrors with no desire to turn away. "I want you to know I'm doing this because you deserve it. You deserve to be loved and taken care of, Petal. I don't care what anyone else told you because they're wrong. You understand me?"

"Yes! Yes! Please." He whines, his moans of pleasure growing louder the more he lets himself go. He's so wet. His pre-cum drooling from the tip as you use it for lube to make it wetter. Sloppier. "I'm gonna cum..."

"I know baby." You chuckle at the way he grips the covers around you, trying his hardest to not lose control but it's getting harder the more you keep going.

"Please..."

"What do you want, Petal?" You ask, slowing down a bit but not enough for him to lose his high. "Tell me what you want."

"To cum. P-Please let me cum, Mommy!"

"Tell me, how do you feel, petal?"

"I feel so pretty!" He yells, rocking his hips harder as he finally hits his high as he cums all over your hand. Some hit the floor, and some hit the mirror (you'll have to clean that later). He watches as you stick your cumcovered fingers into your mouth and lick it off. Salty but satisfying to see him bite his bottom lip. "Fuck..."

"Feel good?"

"Yes... Thank you."

"You're welcome, Petal." You grin, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "Next time I'm going to dress you up so pretty, petal. You'll look like my beautiful flower. Would you like that?"

"Mhm."

"No. What to we say, Petal?"

"Yes, mommy."

"Good. Now, you wanna know the reason I bought this?" Jimin falls back on the bed as you climb on top of him. He shakes his head and of course, you can't help but chuckle at how exhausted he looks.

"Why?"

"Because I know you'll look fucking gorgeous when I fuck you while you're wearing them."

If Jimin could pop another boner, he would because fuck that would be so damn hot.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Fuck yes." You lean down to give him a peck on the lips, grinning as he leans up for more.

"I know you would but right now we have pressing matters?"

"What's wrong?"

"We have a business dinner we have to attend."

"Tonight?"

"Tomorrow. So if you could, I'll need you home by seven if you can. I know sometimes your classes run late." You trace his chest as he huffs, loving the feeling. "And, I want you to wear the diamonds."

"Why?"

"Everyone else needs to know how gorgeous you look in them. They just won't get this view." You wink, collapsing next to Jimin and cuddling into his side. He pulls you so you're lying on top of him as he takes you in.

"I love you."

"And I love you, Petal."

And well, he doesn't mind it at all because he loves how you care for him. Your desire to make him happy is evident in how you treat him, and he feels lucky to have you in his life. He knows that no matter what he does, he won't be able to repay you for all that you've done for him.

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[jimilter]

on the borderline — 04 | pjm. (m)

Park Jimin has been your buoy, your anchor and the ship of sanity that guides you to shore amid storms of self-doubt, nearly all your life; as have you been his. That is not to say nothing has ever brewed beneath the surface of platonic friendship, or that the two of you have never been victims to mistiming. Regardless, you would never risk the friendship you have with him now for anything. Even if you have to hurt him – or even yourself – in the process.

pairing: jimin x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: humor | drama | friends to lovers!au

word count: 9.3 k

— warnings: swearing + mentions of a past toxic relationship + mentions of therapy/therapists + mentions of sex (some get detailed and explicit, hence the rating!) + some descriptive r-rated daydreaming + emotional constipation at its peaK + denial at its peaK + reader is a mess throughout + jimin cooking breakfast without a shirt 🚨 (will add more if i notice anything while proofreading!)

— note: HAPPY 10 YEARS TO BANGTAN - MY LOVE, MY HEART, MY WORLD! 🥺💜 hello world, i've crawled out of the grave two months later - who remembers me? :] anyways, parts of this aren't proofread (esp the last 2k words) bec i finished jusssst in time to post this today. will edit it in a day, tops! drop me a word~

ps. the rating, genre and warnings mentioned above pertain to this chapter, only.

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𝐈𝐕 ⇢ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 ♪ i’m sinking faster and faster

What wakes you up is the inability to move your leg. 

It’s not like you urgently need to move, either; you were just casually trying to wiggle into a more comfortable sleeping position, like everyone does at nine am on a Saturday morning, when you encountered a hindrance. Your sleep is disturbed, not out of discomfort, but more out of confusion.

Murmuring a curse under your breath, you part your crusty ass eyelids to peer at the warm and heavy human-like pillow that is laying above your blanket and restricting your movement. Wait, this pillow feels a little too giant. You do not have pillows as giant as—

Holy shit, it’s Jimin!

With a deep and loud and dramatic gasp, last night rushes back to you.

The wine, the movie, the kiss you initiated to prove that you and Jimin could kiss without making things weird – great joke, by the way – the kiss Jimin then initiated God knows why, the really good making out and the…

Fuck, the way he ate you out? You don’t remember the last time someone did it so—

Feeling your cheeks starting to heat up, you snap out of it. He’s Jimin, for fuck’s sake! Park jimin! Your childhood best friend, Park Jimin!

Your childhood best friend Park Jimin who is fantastic in bed—

No. Nope.

This is serious. And it’s bad.

Oh, God this is bad.

The heat that was climbing up your cheeks has now rerouted to your head, and your brain is slowly vaporizing under the tension.

Meanwhile, Jimin is fucking snoring away like an oblivious, angelic fucker. What? No, not angelic, no matter how soft his pouted lips look when he’s asleep, he was a demon with you in this very bed.

Almost subconsciously, you reach behind you to run a hand across the skin of your butt. It’s squeaky clean. Did he clean you up after you’d fallen asleep?

Blinking, you snap yourself out of the tender thoughts. This is no place to be thinking how good of a friend he was for cleaning you up when the reason why you were dirty had no friendly causes, whatsoever.

“Jimin!” you hoarsely call out to him, voice scratchy like sandpaper and honestly, too damn low to wake up your best friend who sleeps like a log.

Sitting up under the constricting blanket with difficulty, you scowl at him and shove his shoulder. 

“Park Jimin! Wake the fuck up!”

No movement, not even a change in his breathing pattern, not even a lapse in the muted snores.

“Jimin!” you try a little louder this time, patting his cheek – so soft and warm, it’s hard to remove your hand from it – and he finally stirs. “Hey, wake up!”

Petulantly whining, he turns his head to the other side. “W’ass th’ime?”

What? Oh, time? 

You check your bedside clock. “Uh, it’s nine. Oh fuck! You have a flight at noon! Wake up, Jimin!”

He groans and tries to fucking turn away. “I can get ready in an hour… Lemme just… th’rty minuhs…”

“Jimin, oh my God—” You break off, choosing to instead tug the blankets off him.

And. Well. It backfires, because he’s as naked as you underneath that. Almost involuntarily, your gaze traces his defined pectorals and travels down across his very prominent abdominal muscles, and then – 

You shut your eyes.

He’s hard.

Swallowing roughly, you clumsily tug the blanket back up to his waist, shivering a little when your fingers accidentally brush his warm skin.

“Jimin,” you begin again, weakly, “please wake up. We really need to talk.”

That makes him sigh and finally crack one eye open to peer up at you. “What do you—”

His lips part, scanning the way you sit with your shoulders bare and covers held up to your chest.

“Oh.”

You can see the moment recollection makes it back to him, both eyes opening, now and widening just a fraction. Then he exhales and promptly shuts his eyes again.

What?

Is he going back to sleep?

“Jimin, what the fuck? Get up!”

With a grumpy whine, Jimin finally moves to sit up in bed, scowling at you with his whole face and looking absolutely adorable. Wait, no—

“What is it?” he murmurs through his pouty mouth, eyes swollen and barely open. “What couldn’t wait for thirty fucking minutes?”

Your jaw slowly drops. “Do… you do remember that we had sex last night, right?”

He nods. “Couldn’t be more obvious.” He points at a dark mark on your chest peeking above the blanket you’ve wrapped around yourself.

Tugging the damn cloth higher up, you gape at the guy. He sits simply blinking at you, and you can’t tell if he’s just sleepy or really that unbothered. “And…? Doesn’t it, like, bother you? At all?”

“Bother me?” He frowns and cocks his head to the side, looking at you as if you’re speaking a language he can’t understand. 

“Jimin. We had sex.”

He blinks again, nonchalant as fuck, and then nods. “Yes, we did.”

At your wit’s end, you fist your free hand in your hair. “Dude. We – we had sex. It… It…”

Your stuttering, already mortifying in itself, gets tenfold worse when you can’t find the words to express yourself. Or maybe you do have the words, but you’re not sure how to voice how shockingly your world has been turned upside down when the other half of the involved party looks this cool about it. You are starting to feel like you’re making a big deal out of nothing – but you know it’s not fucking nothing!

“It was… amazing?” Jimin finishes for you with raised eyebrows, looking more awake but still as unbothered, and that is absolutely not where you were going with your sentence. But he’s not done: “Fantastic? Uncannily good and possibly the best sex you’ve had in a while? ’Cause same.”

And now he’s grinning at you and you’re at a loss. Frowning furiously to hone your focus in when your head has started to ache, you shake your head and try again. “Ye–yeah, all – all of that, yes, but also something that shouldn’t have happened!”

Jimin’s eyes narrow at you. “Are you trying to tell me you regret it?”

“Yes! Obviously! You don’t?”

“Why would I?” He shrugs his shoulders and brushes a hand through his hair, not a single expression changing on his face. “It was really good, we used protection and—”

“Okay, stop!” You interrupt him with a wince, eyes screwed shut. “I cannot do this without coffee.”

—

"I—wow. Maybe I can't do this with a coffee either.” You have frozen at the entrance to your kitchen to gape at the sight of your best friend's shirtless back as he sears something in a pan on the stove. “Not without a whole fucking pot of it.”

At your declaration, Jimin turns his head to cock an eyebrow at you over a shoulder, and you shoot a curse at yourself in your head for the clench your insides give. He looks so good like this. It's so wrong and wholly unfair.

Because you have hung out with a shirtless Jimin plenty of times in your life. You’ve objectively admired his build, too, because one – it has been your duty as his best friend and regular wingwoman to give him reviews, and two – for a female that likes men, you’d have to have been a saint to not admire his beautiful body, like, come on.

But never have you ever had such a visceral reaction to the sight. This is what you get for getting to know all those solid muscles up close and personal and freaking tasting his skin, you’ve been so fucking stupid, good God—

"Please put on a shirt, man," you sigh, attempting to avert your eyes but failing.

Jimin, the absolute dick, rolls his eyes at your request. And then just snorts at you and turns back to the stove, as if he finds the suggestion hilarious. As if you're not seconds away from throwing yourself at him and damaging your friendship more than it has been damaged so far. 

Why is he acting so normal? You’re starting to hate your best friend.

After your conversation had been halted in the bedroom, you left the bed to wash your face and throw on a fresh hoodie because you did not wanna wear the one that’s been sitting on your living room floor all night, not when it reminds you of where and how Jimin ate you out. Dear God. You also stole some coffee from the pot while Jimin washed his face. After which you tossed him out to brush your teeth because your mouth tasted like ass, and assumed he'd use the time to dress up because he had to leave soon.

You did not expect the very domestic sight of him cooking – let alone the very erotic version of it that his state of undress depicts.

And now you're experiencing a meltdown because the man's back muscles are visibly rippling with his motions. The slight bruises you've caused by running your nails across them shine a brilliant red against the taut, golden skin. Taunting you. Reminding you of how you lost your goddamn mind, last night.

You feel embarrassed. But you also feel horny.

Which makes you feel doubly embarrassed.

The guy stays completely unbothered, though, humming to himself and fiddling with the damn omelet he's making that smells too fucking good and makes your stomach rumble.

Why is he making your life so difficult, in every single way?

Sighing, you collect all remnants of your willpower, sanity and self-respect, to turn away and stomp your way back to your bedroom. Grabbing a hoodie from your closet, you stomp your way back to the kitchen, this time stepping in and bravely walking up to your best friend, and press the article of clothing into his back.

"Min. Please just put some clothes on and let me have a full cup of coffee. Please."

This time Jimin fully turns to face you with amusement in his eyes and concealed laughter on his lips if the way he's got them pursed is anything to go by. You resolutely do not look beyond his face, instead turning your gaze to the tamagoyaki this man has expertly whipped up in the time it took for you to brush your teeth.

"This looks so good, how'd you make it?"

Jimin steps away with a laugh, finally accepting the hoodie from you to throw it on. "You had an appropriate pan and nice, bamboo chopsticks. That's all it takes."

That is not all it takes, but you're gonna stop arguing because the three sips of coffee that you could stomach with your unbrushed mouth have been exhausted by this interaction and you need more fuel to go on.

So you and Jimin find yourselves on your kitchen island with the Japanese omelet, a pot of coffee and your respective mugs, quietly eating, sipping and holding a staring contest.

Because now that he's appropriately covered, all the reasons why last night was a horrific idea have made their way back to you. You feel like this is the last time you're sitting and eating together, and it's becoming increasingly hard to stomach the impossibly delicious omelet Jimin has prepared.

He is the one to eventually break the stare, giggling at you when you glare at him over the rim of your mug. “Stop looking so mad, babe. So maybe last night shouldn’t have happened, but at least it was good, yeah?”

“How can you be so fucking happy and calm when I’m literally going through an existential crisis, right now?”

Amusement in his curved eyebrows, Jimin hums as he takes a sip from his cup. “Ever heard of post-orgasmic afterglow?”

“For fuck’s sake, Min!” Throwing your head back, you release a groan. “We really got drunk and put our friendship on the line! We – we swore we’d never do anything to jeopardize our bond and then we have sex like some stupid horny teenagers? Last night should not have happened, Jimin!”

That makes him clear his throat and stop laughing. And then, with the most straight face ever, he asks you: “Okay, but at least the sex was good, right?”

You are fucking dumbfounded. “The sex—”

“Was it or wasn’t it? You haven’t said a word about the quality of the sex and I’m starting to get worried…”

“Jesus Christ, yes, it was fucking bomb, but—”

“Well, then that's one win!” He claps his hand together, stepping off his seat to walk up to you and put both his palms on your shoulders. “Now that we are past that, rest assured that this won’t affect our friendship. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that—”

“I can and I am. I’ve known you since we were, like, twelve.”

“I hated you when we were twelve,” you remind him with a pout.

He laughs at that. “Yeah, but you also had a crush on me when we were thirteen, so explain that, huh?”

Despite the events of last night, his mention of your past crush on him still manages to make your cheeks heat up. Doesn’t help that he looks like this when he’s talking about it, all soft in the huge hoodie you basically forced him, a sweet smile pulling his lips up and eyes sparkling.

“We are way beyond ruining our friendship, trust me,” he tells you again, jostling you by your shoulders. “And honestly, this doesn’t have to affect anything if we don’t let it. So we have great sexual chemistry. Honestly, are you really that surprised?”

You’re really not because your brain has been going wild ever since his birthday party, but what the hell does he mean by that?

At your wide eyes, he throws his head back in a laughter.

“Hasn’t it always been like that between us?”

“Like what?” You feel so fucking clueless, you’re half afraid Jimin’s about to call you out on your confession of your fantasizing and you’re bracing yourself for the embarrassment.

“We get on each other’s nerves all the time, but we also love each other. Those sorts of things tend to build sexual tension, dude,” he explains as if he's telling you about a scientific experiment, and you shove his hands off of you with a scowl.

“You didn’t just talk about our supposed sexual tension and then call me dude in the same sentence, weirdo.”

He’s laughing now, eyes disappearing in a squint as his cheeks push up into them, and the sight is too endearing for you to not smile in adoration. “My point was,” he finally concludes, “that we can make it work. It doesn’t have to happen again, we don’t even have to ever talk about it.”

You like the sound of that. Humming, you take a sip from your coffee and nod. “That sounds like something I'd like to do. Can we put this in the past forever?”

“Yes, we can.” Jimin nods, giving you a thumbs-up before he raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I can’t promise I won’t make jokes about some stuff, because, boy do you have the weirdest erogenous zones. The way you went crazy when I bit into your shoulder? I mean who—”

“Hey, shut the fuck up! I have normal erogenous zones!” You seamlessly slip into the banter, pointing a finger at him. “It’s you that has an ass fetish. You exploded at the sight of my ass!”

A loud gasp leaves him and Jimin places a hand on his chest. “Are you trying to kink shame me?”

“You started it!”

“But you made it worse.” Jimin sighs, dramatically pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know what? You were right. Sleeping with your best friend is a bad idea, and this is why. You already know each other inside out, the only thing you’re unaware of is each other’s sexual lunacy. Now we’ve broken that barrier, we’re absolutely gonna kill each other.”

You’re barely able to keep your face straight after that, breaking into loud laughter. Because he isn’t wrong. You know for a fact you have never had that reaction to being bitten on the shoulder, obviously. Not that you can even recall someone’s teeth being there. But with Jimin, it was just something about him that did the trick. 

His joke alleviates the pressure that this realization could bear down on your chest, though, and that feels a lot freeing.

Maybe this can be okay. Maybe you can move forward without a wall of awkwardness rising between you two.

You will move on with your lives and treat last night as something that came your way – and then passed. Kind of like your crushes on each other during your teenage years. It helped that they never really coincided, but it also had to have helped that you never gave them enough importance to even discuss what you had felt, at the time.

Maybe you shouldn’t be giving this as much importance, either.

It’s you and Jimin! Homies! Bros for life, remember?

Yes, you absolutely do.

So you lean in to hug the guy. “This cannot change anything, okay? Please.”

“It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman.” He laughs but loops his arms around you to tug you closer. “And I don't intend to let that happen.”

You don’t either.

You don’t.

You really don’t.

But…being this close to him is giving you flashbacks to being this close to him when you were naked, and that is making you feel hella hypocritical. Maybe this is just your version of an afterglow; maybe your brain's still high on serotonin. You’ll get over it after this heady rush of last night's multiple orgasms has left. 

Clearing your throat, you separate from him with a tight smile – only to come face to face with a blooming purple and red mark at the base of his throat.

“Fuck, I left a mark!”

Jimin tries to follow your gaze with a cocked eyebrow, but when he can’t, you place a finger against the spot, smudging it as if you’re trying to wipe lipstick off. Which Jimin snorts at, “Yeah, that’s not gonna erase a hickey, ma'am.”

Jimin’s snickering is met by your groan, and you push a finger into his chest. “Please cover that up before you leave for your trip. And keep it covered? You’ve packed turtlenecks, right? You’re obsessed with them!”

Laughter trickles through Jimin, nostrils flared because he has his lips folded in to hold it in. “Why? I could just tell them my girlfriend gave them to me as a parting gift. No one'll question me, anyways.” 

“Dude, you’re going with Tara! And I had a very long conversation with Avni, and—” You break off, unsure about divulging the details of that conversation. “And she…knows we’re just friends.”

“Oh, yeah. Tara. She, um, she’s not the type to ask questions, you know?”

Now that he’s kinda awkwardly looking away and stumbling with his sentence again, you’re reminded of the way he’d stuttered about Tara's name on the phone as well. From what you know, the girl has a husband. Why is your best friend being so suspicious about her?

“But I could always say someone else did this.”

Now wait just a second. Why does that make you wanna scowl?

What kind of teenager shit is this? ‘I worked on this hickey, don’t give someone else the credit?’

God, you need an aspirin.

His dick game really has you hovering in a limbo. But to be fair, it hasn’t even been a whole twelve hours ever since you got into it.

This is definitely gonna take you some time to get over.

Good thing Jimin’s leaving for the next few days, then.

“Do whatever, just – I don’t wanna hear your secretary telling any more of your clients about your girlfriend visiting your office, okay?”

He blinks at you, lips pouted in mock innocence. “Even if it's not you?”

“What? No! Our pact still holds!”

“What if you and Seokjin hit it off tonight, though?”

Seok—

Holy shit, you forgot about Seokjin!

What the fuck is wrong with you? You have a maybe-can-be-probably date with a guy and you literally slept with someone else the night before? It’s obviously worse that it was your best friend, but even so. How did you not even remember about the date? 

Wow, you hoe. This is a new low.

And damn, you and Jimin never ended up having that discussion about your ability to recognize your feelings, after all.

Well. After the events of last night, you don’t think you’ll be needing that conversation, after all. It’s bad enough that you had sex with someone other than the guy you’re going to dinner with, the least you can do is respect both the men enough to not make it a date.

Even as the narrative plays out in your head, you know you’re mostly making excuses. And maybe that should be enough to tell you how desperately your subconscious does not wanna get back into the aspects of romance.

If only the people around you (read: Park Meddling Jimin) could understand as much.

“I really don’t think that’s happening, Min,” you simply state in response, deciding to keep all of your thoughts to yourself for once. 

And Jimin, for once, takes it simply enough, nodding with a small smile. “Well. I still hope you have a good time with him.” He checks his phone, and then gathers you in a quick side hug. “It’s close to ten, I gotta run. See you some time next week?”

You nod. “But stay in touch, okay?”

“Of course! And you too – keep me updated about how things go!” When you scowl, he laughs. “Even if you stay friends, grumpkin.”

“Stop trying to make that happen, it’s not gonna happen!” You push at him and he rolls his eyes with a giggle.

“Sure, Regina George.”

Waving at him, you laugh as Jimin quickly stuffs his last night’s rolled up clothes in a backpack he’s borrowing from you and grabs his glasses from the clutter on your coffee table.

“Have a safe flight, Gretchen!”

“Shut up! Will text you after I land!”

“You do that, Min!”

And then he’s slipping out of the door, dousing your apartment in silence. 

Your eyes casually move toward the coffee table that you will have to clean up, and accidentally land on the couch. 

Fuck.

There’s an immediate throb between your legs when your gaze scans the area where you… well, made out with Jimin and had him basically devour you.

Fuck, indeed.

Jimin was very correct. Last night was some of the best sex you’ve had in a while.

In a really long while.

It’s gonna you take longer than a few days to get over it. How Jimin was able to get back to normal so easily is beyond you. 

But then again – maybe he was putting up a front because he knew he’d be leaving for two days and will be able to get your mind off of last night.

Damn, he’ll be back in just two days? Shit, that doesn’t feel like a nearly big enough time period all of a sudden.

Especially right now when you’re cleaning up your coffee table with your throat dry and your panties wet. You’ll never be able to have him over because every time he sits on this couch, you’ll be reminded of last night.

Fuck, maybe you can never even talk to him normally because every time you look at his lips, you won’t even have to imagine what they can do to you because you now know what they can do to you. 

How the hell are you gonna face him in two days?

You're broken out of your thoughts by the ping of a message on your phone.

10:17 AM | Text Message from Seokjin (office) Hey, we never discussed how we're meeting! Would you like me to pick you up?

You suck in a sharp breath. Seokjin. The date.

Right.

This does not feel right, good God.

A grimace on your face, you type in your response, asking the guy to meet you at the restaurant. You are not showing him your place, just yet. Or at all. And you do not wish to be in another guy’s car when the smell of your best friend’s cologne mixed with the musk of his cum is still stuck to your fucking lungs.

For a brief moment, you wonder if you should cancel the date. 

But then you recall the conversation you had with Jimin less than half an hour ago.

This cannot change anything, okay? Please.

It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman. And I don't intend to let that happen. 

You don’t intend to let that happen, either, which is what stops you from canceling the date.

Besides, maybe hanging out with a guy you’ve been admiring and flirting with might actually help? Now that you’ve established that last night’s activities have to be water under the bridge, there’s nothing wrong with attempting to find a distraction to help you cross that bridge, right?

Jimin, for one, seems to want you to do that really bad. 

A weird feeling tugs at your stomach when you recall his insistence on you working things out romantically with Seokjin. But because you already have a huge pile of dogshit on your plate to deal with, you refuse to think further about the pang and instead attempt to focus on the outfit you will be wearing.

You end up wearing a knee length, a-line dress with no sleeves – the right amount of pretty, hot and available, without being too much. It’s a deep navy in color, but no surprise there because ninety percent of your closet comprises dark shades of blues.

On your short drive to the Korean BBQ place you are to meet up with Seokjin at, you blast The Weeknd at full volume and enjoy a solo karaoke of Starboy. When you get there, you drop a text to your date and receive an immediate reply telling you the location of the table he’s sat on.

He’s here before you which would leave you no time to compose yourself before you face the guy. Good thing you were a mother-effing starboy in the car, five minutes ago.

Inhaling deeply and then exhaling, you exit your car and elegantly walk up to the cute entrance to the restaurant. The place’s ambience kinda surprises you because it looks a lot upscale than the usual KBBQ places you’re used to frequenting. Gold and white aesthetics surround you, not ideal for a place which deals in smoking food, but the level of cleanliness that the decor still manages to maintain has you humming in appreciation. 

But then again, you shouldn't be surprised – Kim Seokjin eludes lavishness. 

Speaking of, you’re able to spot the man the moment you step foot into the place. And, admittedly, his crisp suit jacket and combed back hair make you space out so hard, you miss the doorman’s whole greeting. Seokjin immediately catches your eye, too, curling his plump lips into that smirk he flashes at people when he knows he’s got them under his spell.

Well. He’s not wrong, there.

Walking up to him – only after bowing at the doorman, because mama didn’t raise a mannerless bitch – you smile at his sweet gesture of pulling a chair out for you. Even the chimney above your table has intricate carvings on it, looking like something out of a royal kitchen.

When he’s finally seated back in his place across from you and has allowed his smirk to bloom into a full smile, you nod your head in polite greeting. “You look good today.”

Seokjin waves a hand of perfectly manicured nails and delicate rings in front of his face. “Oh, please. I look good everyday.”

Uh…

Did you mishear him? The place is buzzing but it’s not that loud. 

But given the serene smile on his face, he doesn’t look like he just made a joke. Yeah, you must have misheard him.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.”

Wow, the pace at which heat fills your cheeks is so embarrassing. Jimin would never let you live it down if he knew, especially given what all you managed to get up to without any blushing business, last—

Okay, what the fuck?

You hope Seokjin doesn’t notice the momentary panicked widening of your eyes. 

Did you really just almost think about the one event in your life that you’re supposed to forget about? Granted, it happened less than 24 hours ago – but you’re on a date. With another guy. And he just complimented you.

At this point, you should really be ashamed of yourself.

“Th–thank you, hehe.”

Did you just stutter? And fake-giggle?

Good God, you’re going to cry. This isn’t the afterglow the world promised you.

Thankfully, Seokjin jumps to discussing food straight away without attempting any small talk. And he’s pretty enthusiastic about it, too – asking for all his favorite side dishes and then encouraging you to add on yours to the order as well.

“Do you, um, come here often?” It takes you a while to frame that question but as soon as it is out of your mouth, you immediately realize that it can sound like you’re asking him if he’s been on other dates here. Often.

Your social skills are on an all time low tonight, God help you…

But Seokjin, thankfully, doesn’t think that far and simply nods. “Oh, yes. I know the manager, so I’ve been coming here since they opened a year ago.”

Ah, so he’s somewhat of a social butterfly.

Immediately, your brain wants to switch to thinking of another social butterfly in your life and make unnecessary comparisons – but you stop that line of thought before it can take form, by smiling wide at Seokjin. He’s so fucking handsome and you’re honestly just wasting it.

“That’s nice! Does he offer you discounts?” Your sense of humor might be broken, but at least this embarrassment stays on the surface and doesn’t make you wanna hide beneath the table.

Chuckling at your question, Seokjin leans over the table and gestures for you to lean closer as well – which you do. “The dude’s actually my brother in law, so fat chance, I’d say.”

You laugh a little louder than necessary on the joke, partially giggling out of relief that your lame ass joke didn’t get rejected.

He might not get discounts, but the service for your table definitely seems to be a little faster and more full of smiles than it is for the other patrons. Well. You're not complaining.

Seokjin smiles and nods at your server as well, respectfully tucking his hands in his lap to allow the guy enough room to set your table. After the server leaves, Seokjin is quick to set arrange the meat on the furnace – hands moving expertly as he twists and turns the strips around according to the level of cooking each portion requires.

He is a gentleman to the tee, cutting the meat up for you and everything, but is also careful about boundaries because he forwards his chopstick to your plate and not your mouth. Although you're sure your dumbass would have opened your mouth to accept the bite if he would’ve offered, too, without realizing the implications of letting your date feed you.

"Good?"

You hold back a moan when the soft and tender meat melts in your mouth, instead choosing to cover your lips daintily with a hand and nod at Seokjin with wide eyes. A comment about you being pronographic with food from a certain someone crosses your mind, and you resist the urge to sob out loud because you need to stop thinking about last night. 

"So good," you manage to murmur back, giving Seokjin a thumbs up with your chopstick hand.

He grins at you before taking a bite himself, and – oh, man. He certainly doesn't hold back on the moans. You're barely able to contain your reaction when the man suddenly throws his head back and releases a deep groan that travels through your body in vibrations.

There's no way to stop your brain from bursting out a whole NSFW scenario, now, that features you on your knees between the man's legs, swallowing his dick as if it's your last meal on earth. 

Damn. Man’s never even mentioned if he even has any romantic intentions with this whole thing or if he’s just treating you because he felt bad for you missing out on the group outing yesterday – and here you are, being obscene about him enjoying his food. How very pathetic of you.

It gets worse, though, because Seokjin suddenly opens his eyes and meets your gaze that you know for a fact has gotten all heavy lidded and dark. Evidenced by the way his eyebrows slowly rise up and tongue flicks out to lick away the remnants of grease from his bottom lip.

"It is good," he murmurs, winking at you.

Yeah no, he's definitely got at least flirtatious intentions. A little flustered, you clear your throat and look away from him, picking up a slice of pickled radish to distract yourself. 

"So…" Seokjin begins and then pauses, causing your gaze to connect with his again because he isn't the type to really hesitate. 

But there's a slight dusting of pink on his cheekbones right now that could very well be a result of the heat from the grill – but the undertones of grimace behind his smile suggest to you that it's not. Oh dear. Is he nervous?

"Just so we are on the same page… I'd been planning to do this for a while now."

A… while? He's not about to profess his undying love, is he? Your back straightens in alarm, but you force your lips to form a grin. "Ask me on a… date?"

He shrugs a shoulder, tilting his head. "Not necessarily a date, no. Just spending time with you one-on-one."

Oh, thank fuck.

"I know it's not just me that feels like this pull between us, right?"

Yep, it's not just him. Although you won't exactly call it a pull. It's a tap, at best. Or even a touchless beckoning? You weren't lying when you said you only objectively admire his good looks.

But you're not about to tell him that.

Smiling at him, you nod. "We're on the same page, then. It's not just you. But… why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?"

"Ask to do this earlier?"

And you do genuinely wonder. Because now, too, he's almost tricked you into this instead of being forthright with it. You're, like, seventy-eight percent sure you'd have rejected him if he mentioned the word date, but he doesn't know that. Or does he?

Your eyes narrow slightly as Seokjin gives a self-conscious cough of laughter, hand behind his neck. "Well, I wasn't really sure you were… y'know, available?"

Now hold on a second – that's bullshit. You've never made it a secret that you've been as single as they come, ever since you joined this company three years back. Well, you've also made it known that you aren't exactly available either, but what are the odds of Seokjin completely missing the first half and yet catching onto the second one? 

Unless you mixed it up and made it seem that you are unavailable because you had somebody? Oops.

"What do you mean?" you ask him with a light chuckle, leaning towards the table as he reduces the heat on the grill. 

He rolls his eyes, looking at you with a small smile that feels a tad condescending; as if he's about to go, ‘oh, you poor child,’ on you. "That friend of yours? He began to come around a lot, picking you up after work every other day and stuff. I assumed you'd started seeing someone. We all did.”

“Jimin…?” you mumble in surprise because you'd been so eager to spend every minute of your free time with him when you moved to town that you never paused to consider how it looked. "No, we're just friends! He's my best friend, and we're close. But there's nothing there."

Oh no. Why are you talking about him? You were supposed to not even think of the guy – why did you begin to discuss him?

Well now it's too late, because the can of worms has been opened. Now your thoughts are cascading on themselves like a glitching Windows XP screen. 

Your brain's been sent into an obscene overdrive – as if you’d been holding the gates shut to all these images with your back pressed against them and now they’ve been pushed open by this huge wave that flattens you to the ground and engulfs you in itself. And suddenly, you’re reliving it – his hot exhale against your neck, fingers gripping at your hips, tongue flicking over your nipple, teeth digging your flesh.

Best friend? Right. 

Sweat is trailing down your neck and your gaze is stuck unseeingly in your plate full of food that Seokjin has deposited there for your consumption.

Seokjin.

Fuck.

You’re on a fucking date – with another guy.

What the fuck are you doing?

"So yeah,” escapes you in a broken imitation of a chuckle when Seokjin nods, while you try to suppress the slight tremble in your hand when you wave it before your face to emphasize words. “He's just a friend.”

Who gave you the best pounding of your life, but that’s the fine print no one likes to read.

“Yes, yes, I’ve gathered as much now.” Seokjin’s smile is so wholesome, you feel like you’re violating his aura by breathing the same air as him when your mind's so pathetically filthy. “So… about that same page conversation – what do you expect out of this? A casual hangout? Friendship? Something…more?"

Wow, so this guy is actually a pretty cool guy if you look beyond the narcissism, the overenthusiasm and the noseyness. Quite a list to look beyond, but you do reckon him to at least be friendship material with the thoughtfulness his question displays.

The question, though. What do you expect?

Exhaling, you lean back in your seat and squint into space to think about it. You can’t exactly tell him that you're not the least bit emotionally invested in this and would have just tried to get into his pants if it wasn’t for your best friend’s insistence. But number one: you can’t exactly lie to him because that’d be blatantly leading him on and potentially hurting him; number two: he didn't really present you with an option fitting for this.

You need to find a middle ground. 

Because for wholly selfish reasons that you shouldn’t even be involving Seokjin in, you need his company. You need him as a friend, as a potential bed-mate if he's interested. You need him as someone you can spend time with so as to not spend all of it with the one person who's had your brain in a blender since last night. But friendzoning him isn't the way to go, so you're gonna need a second, third, fourth date – whatever number it takes for you to heal the chemical explosion in your head and be a normal human again.

So you need to find a middle ground.

Which just so happens to be you smirking right back at the guy and giving a carefree shrug. "How about a casual hangout with the potential of a friendship with the side of… something else?"

Seokjin bites down on his bottom lip before he smiles again giving you that knowing, tad condescending smirking pull of his lips. Leaning closer to mimic your position, he raises a tentative finger and traces the back of your hand with it, gaze dark but playful. "Sounds fun."

You turn your hand over to allow his fingers to trace the soft, more sensitive skin of your palm instead, grinning at him. "I am fun."

Snorting, he withdraws himself and nods at you. "And funny. I like it."

The compliment makes you grin wider, even though his standards of 'funny' are sure to be questionable with the kind of jokes you've seen him make and laugh at.

The two of you lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence after that, focus shifted to the food. A few words about the quality of the meat and the level of cooking are tossed here and there. Seokjin is definitely a food lover and definitely knows more about cooking than your average guy. He eventually tells you he used to be a good blogger in his early twenties, which you find kind of cute.

You still don't know what he actually does for a living now, however, and the question must be obvious in your squinted gaze when you're cleaning your hands with a wet wipe because kimchi juices cannot be managed by sheer tissue paper.

"I guess it's time I told you," he begins, getting up with you as the two of you prepare to leave.

You raise an eyebrow. "Tell me what?"

"About my profession."

At the reception, you're preparing to put up a fight to split the bill, when Seokjin simply asks the cashier to put this on my tab, grabs some breath mints, and walks away. Following him with a dumbfounded stare, not before popping a breath mint in your own mouth, you see the way the doorman grins at the guy before bowing and you briefly wonder exactly how often he must come here to be able to bhule up this amount of familiarity. And a whole tab.

Your question is hilariously answered the next moment, when Seokjin walks up to your car and leans against it with a smile, pointing at the building with a raise of his eyebrows.

"I own this place."

"What?" You gape at him in pure confusion. "You… the restaurant? But you… you said…"

"My brother in law's the manager, yes, but this restaurant is mine. Actually, there's a chain of these around the country and a few abroad. We started out five years ago, but… business has kinda flourished recently. You don't frequent KBBQ places often, I see."

Okay, wow. Handsome, flirty and rich? Forget being friends, this dude is total Sugar Daddy material! That, and this also explains his knowledge of food and all the free time he's always got on his hands. "Ah… that's really amazing!"

"It kinda is, if I do say so myself."

Overlooking the narcissism, you hum and move to stand next to the guy, your back against your car, arms brushing his. Despite all his red flags, Seokjin is awfully good at picking up clues, you'd give that to him. Because with a slow twist of his heeled shoes, he moves to hover above you, arms extended and hands braced on the door of your vehicle next to your shoulders.

His breath washes over your face, minty but warm, and his dark eyes pull you in. "This was fun."

You attempt to smirk at him, but your lips tremor for some unknown reason. Not to mention the weird weight that pulls at your stomach at his proximity. 

You try to goad yourself into reacting. A horny grab of his coat lapels would be better than staring at him with wide, borderline scared eyes.

What the fuck is wrong with you, you absolute idiot? Where's that imagery of getting on your knees for him now? Remember the horny rush you felt when he moaned after taking a bite of his food?

But nothing works, your throat swallowing your nerves repeatedly and yet failing to clear all of them out of you. 

Seokjin looks visibly confused at your lack of reaction, but still smiles at you for a moment and brings a hand in to cup the side of your face in his warm palm.

Alarm bells blare loud and shrill in your head, your skin tingling at the contact with his and not in a good way. 

The weight in your stomach expands upwards, pressing onto your chest, and the warm breaths on your face suddenly feel not so pleasant anymore. 

Or rather, they don't feel right.

The smell of Seokjin's woodsy cologne, his height towering over you, the calluses in his palm – everything feels wrong. 

It should be citrus, you should be tilting your head at a different angle, the calluses should be on the fingertips.

It should be Jimin.

Fuck.

You're fucked.

"I… I'm sorry, Seokjin, I.m. I don't think I can do this."

Eyes wide and almost horrified, he immediately jumps away from you with both his palms raised up. "Woah woah, did I overstep? I'm so sorry! Shit, I should've asked for your permission before stepping so close—"

"No, no, it's not you! You were reading the signs and you were reading them right." You reassure him, trying to regulate your breathing now that you finally can breathe properly. "I was into it, I swear! I mean… I thought I was into it. But I…" You sigh, placing a hand over your forehead to give an embarrassed shake of your head. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, please don't apologize." Seokjin shakes his head tenderly, looking at you with a frown that spells concern as well as confusion. But then he grins at you, clearly trying to make a joke out of the situation to ease you down. "There will always be more opportunities to make out, my lips aren't going anywhere!"

Oh… But you don't think there will be. You don't want there to be. 

He reads something on your face and slowly raises his eyebrows. "Or maybe not?"

You give a weary sigh, shutting your eyes and slumping against the silver of your car. "I really really don't wanna lead you on, Jin. You're an amazing guy, and… I'd really love to have a friend in you. But I don't think I'm in the right mindspace to invest into anything further than that."

And it is so weird to confess something that has been true for years – except now, it's in a wholly different context. You have steered clear of emotional entanglements for so long because of the way things went south with your ex. That hasn't stopped you from pursuing physical intimacy, however.

But right now, you're stepping away from the latter as well. 

You can feel your brain shutting down on your emotions, refusing to let you assess what you feel, least of all why you feel it. But you most certainly were craving your best friend when another guy was just about to kiss you – so you are most certainly, very royally fucked to a huge degree.

When you finally meet Seokjin's gaze again, trying to avoid your thoughts, he's looking at you with a small smile. It is an extended version of the condescending one you've seen him wear multiple times tonight, except this one seems more sweet than tainting.

"Can I ask you something?"

You blink at the unexpected question. "You just did," you lamely mumble, cringing at your own self. "Sorry. Yes, please, go ahead.

He laughs and tilts his head to the side. "Is Jimin really just a friend to you?"

Eyes widening in surprise, you're at a loss of words at the suddenness of the question. It's not an unfamiliar one – far from it. In your entire existence as Jimin's best friend, you've encountered it more times than you can count; as best friends usually do, before they laugh it off and call each other gross.

But, strangely enough, facing it this time brings out an emotion that is far from humor. It, in fact, takes you back to that time in college when you were all nineteen and you'd freshly revealed about your past crush on Jimin during some game amongst your group of friends. Wheein, Jeongyeon and Seungcheol, the three other friends that completed your group of five, then took it upon themselves to tease the two of you at every chance they got. 

You claimed your crush was old and you'd gotten over it – and yet butterflies filled your tummy every time Jimin flirtatiously wiggled his eyebrows at you at their insistence. You didn't even go to the same college, man used to make you lose braincells over video calls!

Those similar butterflies occupy the cavity beneath your diaphragm now too, as you stay blinking at Seokjin, taking way too long to answer. Which gives away the answer in itself.

Giving you a hum, long and deep, he rolls back on his heels and nods. "I see."

"What? No!" You suddenly jump up to defend yourself. "I… We're just in a… weird phase right now." That's one way to put it, you guess. "B–but we're friends. Just friends. The best of friends."

"Are you sure it's me that you're trying to convince?"

You bite your tongue at the laughter in his voice. Are you really trying to lie to yourself?

Do you really have a crush on your best friend…again?

 Seokjin gives a pat to your shoulder. "Don't worry about it, okay? I can't say I didn't have an inkling. Hell, we've all seen the two of you act impossibly couple-y around each other. Even if you were just friends in the beginning, it was bound to evolve into something more given how you looked at each other."

Okay, enough. That's… too much.

It was one thing when it was just Jimin’s colleagues that thought the two of you acted couple-y because he'd never bothered to correct them. It's a whole other when it’s your colleagues too because you've always brushed off their suspicions, without fail. 

This is getting out of your hands.

"I'll be taking my leave, okay? Drive safe and let me know when you've reached home." Seokjin smiles again when you meet his gaze. "No hard feelings, okay? I'll see on Monday."

You hope you'd be able to face him on Monday without breaking into tears of humiliation.

Sighing, you wave goodbye to Seokjin and, unlocking your car, get into it. Placing both hands on the steering wheel, you rest your forehead against their back, exhaling roughly.

This is all so confusing, you almost want to cry. Or call up Jeongyeon and complain about your confusing state of mind to her. But you're a terrible friend who doesn't keep in touch with people regularly so the last time you talked to the girl would have been on her birthday. Almost a year ago. It's coming up again next month, in fact. So nope, no messages.

With a grimace, you extract your phone to check the time – just as a message pings on it.

07:41 PM | Text Message from Min 🌟 <image_2839.jpg>

Great. Just what you need. More of him to absolutely obliterate any semblance of sanity you could have clung onto.

Heart almost beating out of your chest, you click on the message with embarrassingly shaky fingers. A picture of him awaits you – a dramatic selfie where his face is resting against a pillow with his eyes shut and lips pouted. The accompanying text spells out 'tired' in small letters, followed by multiple ellipses because one couldn't have made the point clearly enough for him.

Your heart has no business thumping like it us at the sight of his shiny mouth, and your face definitely deserves to be sued for heating up like a fucking toaster. You could earn a tortilla on your cheeks.

Oh God. 

You do have a crush on him again. Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.

What the fuck have you done?

On your way back, your whole head was such a mess that you almost turned into the wrong lane. You'd planned a Marvel movie marathon to get your mind off everything and fall asleep in front of the TV – so that you can wake up on Sunday afternoon with Chris Evans’ ass in his tight Cap’n America spandex on your mind.

But as you go through your nightly routine of brushing and showering, you realize that watching TV is out of the question because you cannot stay in your living room without reliving the way you were eaten out, here. And touching yourself to the thought of the guy you don't wanna think about will be sort of counterproductive.

So you decide to pull out your laptop and snuggle in your bed, resolutely turning towards the window in your room to avoid looking at the place where you knelt before Jimin. But that makes you face the picture of the two of you that you keep on your nightstand like a sap, and you release a tired groan.

"Why the fuck are you everywhere?" you lament into your empty room which doesn't feel nearly empty enough with all the traces of your best friend around it.

For the first time in your life, you're beginning to wonder if you've woven Jimin too intricately in your life than a best friend should be.

Good God. A spandex clad ass won’t be enough, you’ll need Chris Evans to get naked for you to be able to deal with this shit. Fuck it, you're watching Not Another Teen Movie.

It's 2 am, you’ve gone through four movies, and yet haven’t been able to gather enough sanity to text your best friend back.

He probably thinks you’re riding Seokjin’s dick by now. Which you would have been, had it not been for this uncalled for, absolutely unwelcome, highly inconvenient and horrendously intense attraction you’re feeling for him instead.

What is worse, it’s accompanied by telltale signs of a crush. What a nightmare to bear.

It all sounds like you’re being extra, but you’re actually just afraid.

The truth is – you're terrified of feelings; of getting too attached to somebody. And not just because you've seen how it can make people dependable, symbiotic to the point of being parasitic, the way they did your ex. But also because they change people in even more, even scarier ways.

Especially friends.

The moment that line is crossed from friendship to romance, everything is changed. At the risk of sounding morbid, you'd like to claim that everything is essentially ruined. 

You've seen it happen to the closest of friends. The mask comes off, and everything that a person was as a friend – completely disappears as they assume the role of a partner. It never makes sense to you why this happens. 

But your biggest fear in life is that it may happen to you. That it may happen with Jimin. You'd realized it when you were 19, so you'd crushed all the giddy feelings in you and moved on with your life as Jimin’s best friend. 

And it worked out great, didn’t it? For eight whole years?

Fuck, what if fizzles out now, though?

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you muter to yourself, covering your face with both your palms.

You really don't wanna say it because it makes you feel like shit, especially given how normal Jimin was this morning, but… had you known getting physically close to him would lead to you getting so lost in your head, you would never have kissed Jimin. You would never have let that conversation with Avni play with your head for so long, in the first place.

Because all that has led you here, to this – leaving him on read and ignoring his face time calls. Poor guy probably just wants to know how your date went.

Well. Maybe you’ll answer him tomorrow.

Maybe you’ll be brave enough to confidently lie your way out of it. Maybe you'll be saner, more composed?

Tomorrow. You promise your self you'll be better tomorrow.

“Tomorrow.”

© jimilter | 2023

[perfectlyoongi]

BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who asked you to draw a star for him to tattoo on his ring finger. you and Jimin met on a starry night, your first meeting was under the stars, the beginning of your relationship was blessed by the various celestial stars; it was obvious that Jimin thought of you in every shining light in the sky, in every ancient constellation — and who better to carve your eternal love than you? “it’s a promise, you know? a promise that we will love each other forever.”

BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who likes it when you comb his hair on slow winter mornings. still cuddling in gentle sleep, Jimin sat in your bathroom as he lazily watched you in the mirror; your hands moved delicately, your fingers already knew every strand of Jimin's hair, wrapping themselves in his hair with expertise and precision, always leaving him satisfied with your work. “do whatever, i trust you. just let me sleep for a moment.”

BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who buys matching onesies for your home movie dates. an extensive and colorful collection filled your wardrobe, tails and ears and hoods filling as much space as they could; in the comfort of the warm fabric, in each other's arms, with your snacks, your night went on for hours, only stopping when your eyes decided to create their own fantastic movies. “today we can use the stitch one and watch a disney movie. oh! a new one came out recently. come, lie down beside me.”

BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who gives you a bouquet of lego flowers on your first anniversary. why buy real flowers that would be consumed by time, taking with them the proof of Jimin's love for you? the lego flowers were eternal, resistant but endowed with a delicacy that made them always beautiful — just like your relationship with Jimin. “and when a new flower comes out, i will buy it and make it and give it to you because our love is always growing and will never wither.”

BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who jumps and screams and hugs you and kisses you every time his photocard appears in the album he gifted you. whenever Jimin gave you a new album, his heart fluttered with anticipation, while his eyes searched for reactions on your features to the photocard you hid from him; and, oh, when he saw himself, it was as if your love was confirmed by the universe, as if that photograph was proof of the veracity of your love. “i knew my photocard was going to come out! it’s destiny to be with me forever, seriously!”

BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who likes to run around the house chasing you, listening to your excited screams and threatening a tickle attack. Jimin felt like a child by your side, always pure and safe, and so his most playful side came out in a small and fun tickle fight. “come here! don't run away from me! i just want to show my love for you.”

BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who said he loved you when you arrived home after a sudden rain soaked you from head to toe. the rain had caught you by surprise when you were getting home and now, in the comfort of your walls, with water still dripping from your hair, and clothes and laughter filling the room, Jimin just looked at you and as soon as he saw how happiness illuminated you, he just confessed. “liking you is so easy when you are simply divine. i love you.”

[cybsoo2]

a bleeding bruise (pt.2)

╰┈➤ synopsis — The aftermath of the 'accident' stirs up suffering in all of you. How will you handle the pain? How do these three survive with the shame? And what will be the outcome of your relationship?

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!vminkook x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 3.2k

╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, injury, past abuse, vomiting, they're such little liars, needles, angst

ੈ♡₊˚｡ back to ⇢ pt.1

The rush to the hospital is a blur of blood. Stained hands, soaked in sin, carry you out to the car. Clarlet carnage covers everything it touches; their skin, the midnight air, it even seeps into the seats. 

Jimin and Jungkook are frantic to force themselves into the backseat. They sit side by side with you laying limply over their laps. Your head is held in Jimin’s hands. He cradles you with care and caresses your soft skin. You’re turnt to face the front of the car in case you spit up any more scarlet. The cold air creeps into your lungs. It’s a comforting contrast compared to the fiery heat that incinerates your insides. 

Taehyung speeds down the streets, missing multiple turnoffs in his mindless panic. Every bump he hits along the road results in cruel curses and scolding from the boys in the backseat.

The night sky looks like an inked artwork. Blue stars bleeding out into the black; their loss of light mirroring your own. It rushes by in a restless haze. Blots of blood stain your vision. The starry sky keeps you company as you sink further into a fatal sleep. 

The first time you wake, you’re blinded by everything at once. The white-hot overhead lights burn your retinas. Their image lingering even as you screw your eyes shut. You blink back the burn and let your eyes scan over the unfamiliar room. White walls stare straight through you. An alcoholic taste burns at the back of your throat. A sterile smell makes you sick. All these unknown sensations swarm you at once. 

The heart monitor picks up the pace, sending sirens off in the two men’s minds. Jimin tightens his grip on the hand he was already holding. He squeezes three times and watches while you panic, feeling frozen from your unexpected awakening. Your eyes roll rampant in their sockets; overwhelmed with information and foreign feelings. Taehyung takes over, forcing your attention on him instead. He pushes back the sweaty strands of hair that stick to your forehead. Then he grabs your jaw in a gentle grasp, whispering words to calm the chaos.

“Shhh, sweetheart, go back to sleep.” He cradles your cheek in his hand, creating a makeshift pillow for you to lean into. “The doctor said you shouldn’t be awake so soon. Go back to sleep, we’ll still be right by your side when you wake up.”

Jimin pulls up the blankets to sit at your shoulders. He lays on the edge of the blue bed; head having sunken into the side of your pillow. His hair is sprawled out everywhere, tickling your neck when he attempts to crawl closer. He puts his hand over your face, slowly passing over you to shut your eyes.

You’re dragged back off to dreamland by their sweet songs. They sing lovesick lullabies that send you off to sleep in seconds. The last thing you spot is Jungkook walking into the room. His face is sunken with a certain type of sadness. A doctor lingers out in the hall, clipboard and consoling frown falling off his face. 

The second time you wake is much more tranquil than the first. This time, the lights are dimmed to drench the room in darkness. The steady beat of your heart monitor gives you something to focus on. The air lingers with the lasting scent of Taehyung’s cologne. You lift your head up from the pillow, trying to pull yourself up to look around. Two sets of hands push you back down.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t rush. You’ll end up straining yourself.” Jungkook stares at you while he speaks. A pitiful smile pulls at his lips. Trying to act as if the isolating room isn’t alive with pain and panic. “How you feeling?”

“Are you hurting at all? Do you need a doctor? Never mind, I’ll get one anyways.” Jimin’s words are tangled with terror. He tries not to show it on his face, but his words are weak and erratic. Before he can get up to go grab a doctor, you tighten your hold on his hand, keeping him sat in his seat.

“No, I’m okay. Just a bit sore.” The words claw themselves up your throat in a croaking tone. You swallow against the dryness and wince with discomfort. 

With the help of Jungkook, you sit up to take in more of your surroundings. All three of them sit in front of you. Jimin sitting at your side, Jungkook standing with your hands still interlocked, and Taehyung laying down at the foot of the bed. All of them watch with worry, waiting for what you’ll say next.

“What happened?” It’s a simple start, and you can already assume the answer, but the suffocating silence pushes you to speak.

Taehyung tries to speak his thoughts, but he ends up sputtering like a fish out of water. Jimin takes a look at Tae and tries not to tear up. Sick memories massacre his mind. His nose twitches as stray tears swim in his eyes. He attempts to hide his emotion, turning away from your questioning eyes.

Jungkook jumps in when it’s obvious the silence has been strung out for too long. “You just got out of surgery and the doctors said it was internal bleeding.” He skirts around the obvious accident that caused it. “They also said you’ll be in here for a couple days at the least. Just so they can keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t tear open your stitches.”  His line of vision lingers on your stomach. 

You follow his lead and look down. Although, you can’t see the damage stuffed under your scratchy hospital gown, you can still feel the strike of pain. White bandages that wrap around you like rope and silver stitches pulling at your sickly skin. Thoughts of the damage hiding in the dark bring a grimace onto your face. Your injuries are all stashed away on the inside. Your only though is that you feel worse than you look.

“Was it that bad?” You turn your eyes up to stare at Jungkook.

He hesitates for a solid second. Your words have whispers of a deeper, more dreadful meaning. His head twists your words into a torturous truth. Because you aren’t really asking about the accident. You may have asked him ‘Was it that bad?’, but all he can hear is ‘Are you that bad?’ He hurt you so horribly that it almost invoked the dawn of death. This torturous truth is too much for him to handle, too much for any of them, including you… so he lies.

“It’s nothing to worry about. We’ll take care of you, like we always do.” Jungkook speaks his sweet lies with a sorrowful smile. Everyone else mimics the same miserable grin. You listen to his white lies, but this time you’ll try to trust them. 

You eat a somber dinner of things that are barely solid. A simple soup, soggy bun, and jello that’s supposed to serve as a delicious dessert. You poke at it with your fork, watching as the red blob bounces around. Taehyung nudges your shoulder, silently telling you to stop. You can feel his watchful stare straight through your skull, actually, you can feel all their eyes at once. Their anxious eyes only settle when you start picking away at your plate. The food tastes like poison as it passes through your throat. Your appetite has slipped away from you ever since the surgery. But, with the boys acting all antsy and irritated at everything that hurts your health, you force down the food in order to ease their anxiety. 

Each man nurses their own coffee in their hands. Taehyung watches the hot liquid swirl around in his cup. He’s reckless with the way he handles it, anxiety jumping at the slightest sound and spilling the drink down his hands. Red and angry marks wrap around his arms. Blisters burned deep into his skin; yet he doesn’t seem to acknowledge the pain. He keeps his attention towards you. Trying to be subtle, stealing glances at you every so often. Watching for any discomfort, making sure you eat at least half your food, and studying the bittersweet sadness staining your face. 

Jimin downs his 4th drink before you’ve finished your food. You make a mixture of your meal, poking and prodding at it. Sometimes Jimin has to hold himself back from force feeding you. Stress stretches him apart, tearing at his mind, his lungs, and his heart. He hates seeing you so pale and so sad. So he helps out with hidden motives. He takes bits and pieces off your plate, eating small bites before holding the rest up to your mouth. He doesn’t let you shrug off his advances, so you end up eating more than you’d like.

Jungkook stirs up his coffee into something sweet. 6 packets of sugar and sweetener sink into the bitter blackness. He adds cream to his concoction and stirs until the sour taste dies down. 

You stop eating when everything is half of what it once was. Not too sure how much more your stomach can handle. You push away your plate, trying to pass it over to Taehyung to get rid of. 

“Just take one more bite.” He tries to encourage you, pushing the plate back into your arms. He takes a scoop of the jello with your spoon, the easiest to eat, and holds it in front of your mouth. 

“I don’t think I can.” You look down at the plate, feeling intimidated by such a simple task.

“Just one more.” Taehyung stares straight into your eyes. His insistent nature has become normal for you. Normal enough to know that he won’t take ‘No’ for an answer.

You let out a soft sigh and take the spoon in your mouth. It's a difficult task to force the food down your throat. The texture and taste turns your stomach. As soon as you swallow it down, you know you never should have. Regret almost comes rushing out as you struggle to stand and run to the bathroom. The boys fall behind, faces clouded in confusion. 

Your knees hit the floor with a heavy fall. Fragile form collapsing under the weight of your weakness. You hug the toilet seat tight to your body and hang your head over the inside. Within seconds everything you ate is spilling out of you. The sight of scarlet jello mimics blood from the present past. 

A crash is heard out in the other room. Taehyung comes in, colliding with the door and dropping down to his knees. He acts out of adrenaline, gathering your hair in one hand and resting the other on your back. He rubs soothing circles into your skin, whispering words of encouragement.

“It’s alright. Just let it out.” He locks eyes with Jimin as he enters the room. He sits down at your side, pressing a peck against your temple. He hushes your cries and keeps trying to tame the trembles that rack your body. 

Jungkook gets a glimpse at the sorry sight and is immediately scrambling out of the room and screaming for a nurse. Head spinning with imprinted images of your red and raw lips. A bloody tint that throws his mind back to before.

Even after you’re sure you’ve thrown it all up, you gag on the metallic taste that lingers in your mouth. A rotten taste that tangles with your raspy cry and tints your teeth. 

There are tears streaming down your face. Throwing up everything you just ate has left you feeling empty and aching. Jimin and Taehyung still stroke soothing motions down your back. Jimin pries your hand away from where it grabs the porcelain bowl in a death grip. He intertwines his hand with yours and lets you squeeze it wherever another sense of nausea rolls around. 

Two nurses come running into the room. Unfamiliar faces set the two boys on edge. Jimin clutches your hand closer to his heart. Taehyung shifts his body in front of you, trying to keep you out of sight.  Jungkook is the one to push them both out of the way so they can help you, but he never strays far, always hovering with a possessive stance and protective eyes. 

The two nurses appear anxious in the presence of such intimidating stares. They’re hands sweat and shake as they offer up more painkillers and check to see if your stitches have torn. And when the nurses have nothing more to help you with, they’re fast to flee the room.

You’re settled in bed once again. You find yourself falling asleep as an IV drip digs deep into your arm and the painkillers put a heavy haze in your head. 

Jimin squeezes in at the side of your bed, Taehyung crawls in close, and Jungkook holds your hand. They cradle you close. You’re smothered to sleep by careless kisses and whispered wishes. You’re sent off to slumber chasing a delicate dream of a different life. 

The rest of your stay at the hospital looks relatively the same. You’re smothered with affection in the form of sweet sorrys. The three men do everything they can to make up for the incident, everything but actually acknowledge it. No one speaks a word of that night. Nothing goes past a simple sorry when alluding to it. Instead, they’re eager to show their remorse through action and affection.

Jimin hasn’t left your side since the surgery. He lays beside you in the bed, having squeezed in during the dark silence of your dreams. You wake every morning only to end up caged in his iron grip. 

Sometimes he sits in the steel chair at your side. Cast aside whenever Taehyung or Jungkook has decided he’s pestered you enough. He never backs down without an argument. But one look at your exhausted expression and his angry words begin to die down. He taps the metallic chair in time with the clock. The tuneful ticking and copious amounts of coffee are how he distracts himself from drifting off into a dream. In all honesty, he’s been scared to sink back to sleep. The last time he found himself falling asleep, he woke to you bleeding out on the bathroom tile. 

Taehyung takes most authority when it comes to distracting you from your discomfort. He turns your attention to the shows playing upon the TV. He gives you his portions of pudding at meal time. And drowns out any signs of discomfort with his tender touch. 

Jungkook is the only one who acts the most distant. A simple side effect of taking on the brute end of your beating. His shame feels like the same shackles used to hold you down. A cold chaos harrows at his heart. He feels the bitter burden of his wrongdoings with every breath he breathes. He turns over his thoughts in the silence, and sorts through his sinful emotions while you sleep. He refrains from talking too much. Only chiming in on conversations when it includes your health or happiness. 

He listens to the doctors lecture him on how to take care of you, sinking further into his shell with every sentence because he’s only done the opposite thus far. He watches while the nurses talk him through how to re-wrap your bandages when needed. He struggles to keep his hands to himself. Biting back his tongue whenever they touch your blooming bruises and you flinch. The nurses nurturing hands roam your body with innocent intentions. Applying balm to your bruises and wrapping you up in white. But when your eyes twinkle with tears unshed, the three men shout and shut them out of the room without any rebuttal. 

They take matters into their own hands, knowing their tender touches are still too tense. You shed some tears and take your lips between your teeth, trying to hide the pain that’s more prominent than before. 

They take matters into their own hands, knowing they’re worse for you than anyone else. But they’re blinded by love and can’t let their butterfly fly away. 

The day you’re told you’ll finally be discharged is one you’ve all been looking forward to. They carry you out to the car once again, this time with much less gore and guilt. The scenery blurs by from where you watch out the window. The spring season seems to melt together with the high speeds Jungkook is driving. 

They’ve all been acting more restless and rash as the days go on. Impatient and eager to keep you hidden in their home. Protected from prying eyes and devils in disguise. Naive to the fact that they themselves are the real mask-wearing monsters. 

The rest of the drive drones on. Each building that passes more boring than the last. Instead, you fix your focus on the three men that surround you. Taehyung wouldn’t take no for an answer when he insisted you sit on his lap. So now you rest against his chest with his arms wrapped around your waist. His fingers skim across your stomach, soothing away the sickness that still remains. He does anything to avoid the white wraps that stick to your stitches. A pang of pain hits him in the heart every time he’s reminded of that night time nightmare. He walks his fingers across your waist, trying to kill time and relax his restless nature. Sometimes his hands stray away from your stomach and shove Jimin instead. 

In his sleeping state atop your legs, he tries to catch up on the sleep he’s missed before you get back home. Too hysterical in the hospital and too obsessed over your well-being, he developed a sort of insomnia. However, this tiny sliver of sleep he finally gets is full of disturbances. As his dreams drift into a tortured terrain, his body begins to tremble in terror. Shifting in his sleep and almost smacking his arm into your stomach if Taehyung wasn’t there to pull him away. 

During the rest of your drive, each man continues to fight their angry and anxious feelings. When you arrive at your house, nothing much has changed. They cling onto you like a second skin and still struggle with their self-loathing. 

Yet their sorry words and tear-stained eyes will never be enough. Not when they know you both are bound to destroy each other. Not when this cycle of crimson chaos will continue till the end. 

Even when they love you the most, stricken with guilt and grief, willing to do anything you ask, their lovesick obsession only serves to make matters worse. They hold you too tight, kiss you too rough. Their love is slowly sending you to an early grave. Yet you chose to be ignorant to their insanity. Developing tunnel vision to their love and ignoring all else.  And when you slip up again, when they snap again - you’ll pretend it never happened. Harbouring hope in a broken heart. Trying to be someone you aren’t in order to survive. Their love is like poison and their hate is like hell. Staying alive with three lovesick psychos, all you can rely on is hope.

© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved

[dreamescapeswriting]

Comforting Words ~ PJM

WORD COUNT: 1k

PAIRING: Jimin x Fem!Reader

GENRE: established relationships, mentions of a panic attack, comforting, fast paced, jimin looking after the reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

As soon as Jimin saw your name flashing on his phone he knew that there had to be something seriously wrong, it wasn't like you to call him this late in the night. Jimin paused in the porchway of the house, he'd just left you at your place less than twenty minutes ago and to see that you were calling him worried him. The two of you had been dating for almost 4 months and the two of you hated being apart but with his idol life, it was what he had to do. 

"Babe? What's going on?" But there was no answer on the other end of the phone, just some heavy breathing as Jimin frowned to himself, checking that it was you calling him again. Yep, it was your name and photo on his screen. Anxiety began to bloom in the pit of his stomach as he thought about what could possibly be wrong. Had someone broken into the house and you didn't know who else to call? But there was no way you'd call him first and not the police.

"Yn? Is everything okay?" Jimin moved to go and grab his car keys, heading out into the garage and getting into his car right away, as soon as the engine was on the Bluetooth connected and he was already driving down the street to your place. There was no way he was going to let you go through whatever it was you were going through alone.

"Jimin," You managed to get out through a sniffle, Your throat felt as though it was closing up and you could barely utter any words or even think of speaking right now. Everything around you felt as though it was moving at a thousand paces a second and you couldn't get your mind to focus on one thing. Your heart was racing so quickly it felt as though it was about ready to leap out of your chest and you weren't sure how to start on what to say to Jimin. You sank down onto the floor, bringing your knees into your chest as you let out a shaky breath.

"I can't-" Jimin didn't even need you to finish your sentence, he could already tell what was going on and he did his best to stay calm. The last thing you needed in the midst of your panic attack was him panicking about your panic attack so he took in a deep breath before smiling weakly to himself. He knew how to look after you, he knew how to comfort you since he'd already been looking into everything for you.

"I'm coming, deep breaths baby." You did your best to listen to him, following his instructions and listening to the way he was breathing. 

"I'm almost there. What's the name of the movie we went to watch on our first date?" He questioned, it wasn't because he couldn't remember but he'd been reading up on anxiety techniques and he'd seen one about distracting the person having the panic attack so he was going to do his best. 

"Age of innocence." You sniffled and stuttered out a little, you could still remember going because Jimin was confused the whole way through the movie getting you to explain some parts to him.

"Where did we go to watch it?" He quizzed, pulling onto your street and putting his foot down a little bit so that he could get to your house. All he had to do then was get his keys and get inside and he would be able to hold you and comfort you in any way that he possibly could.

"To...To the park, it was showing because the local theatre wanted to show an older movie." You explained, your head slowly starting to calm down from all of the buzzing that seemed to be happening. Your heart rate was beginning to return to normal but you still couldn't control the shaking of your hands and you were already starting to feel the pounding of your headache. 

"Hey," Jimin whispered as he walked into the kitchen seeing you on the floor, you quickly discarded your phone and he sank down beside you bringing you into his arms.

"Do you know what started this one?" He quizzed, his hands gently rubbing up and down your arms as you cuddled closer to him. Your hands were fisted in his shirt as you leant your head against his chest listening to his steady heartbeat as you took in a calmer breath. Listening to his heart rate seemed to calm you down a lot more than the phone conversation you'd had.

"No," You sniffled a little and he nodded slowly, looking down at the top of your head before kissing it softly.

"Let's have a sleepover at my place...We can go and grab late-night snacks, and drinks and we can go back to mine and lay in bed all night and all day tomorrow." The idea sounded like heaven to you. Getting to spend so much time with the man you were pretty sure you were falling in love with? You'd give your right arm for that opportunity.

"Don't you have work?" You lifted your head to look him in the eyes and he shook his head, his hand slowly reaching out and wiping away the tears that had been falling down your face.

"Nope, the weekend is free and it's free for me and you." You stared at him, your eyes lighting up as you thought about getting to spend the whole time with him.

"I'd love that." You whispered to him. The truth was, you were terrified to spend the night alone after your panic attack so getting to spend more time with the man that helped with your anxiety, you were more than happy to get that.

"Let's go pack," He chuckled softly, both of you standing up and heading up the stairs to your bedroom rushing to pack everything that you were going to need for the weekend together.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @rjsmochii @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie@halesandy @jin-from-the-block @aerastus @namjooningelsewhere @psychosupernatural @lyoongx @royallyjjk @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @laylasbunbunny @ratherbfangirling @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin

[colormepurplex2]

The Demon Is In The Details | It's Just A Box

↳ Demon!Jimin x Human!f.Reader ⤜ Crossroads Demon AU, Accidental Enthrallment ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 6,470 ⚠️ Crass language, demon summoning, talk of blood, demon deals, life bartering

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

“Wouldn’t you rather be at home and in bed right now? I know I would,” you lament for the dozenth time since your best friend dragged you out into the middle of nowhere.

She gives you a disgruntled look from over her shoulder. “Can you stop being such a spoilsport already?”

You’re not trying to be a spoilsport. You just don’t see the appeal in trudging through the woods in the middle of the night to go bury a box of questionable items at some supposed crossroads just so nothing can happen.

“Do you really believe in this stuff, Dom?”

Dom—or Dominique Portland to almost everyone else—has been your best friend since you were both barely tall enough to see over the kitchen countertop. Inseparable only just scratches the surface of the bond you share. Your summers growing up were spent sharing her small twin bed and waking up to her mother frying bacon and flipping pancakes nearly every morning.

The silver ribbons holding her unruly space buns in place flutter in the air as she spins around and starts walking backward, her mocha eyes assessing you. “You know I do,” she finally says, a playful smirk curling the corner of her full lips, making the piercing in the center of the bottom one glitter in the soft moonlight filtering through the trees.

You’ve always found her to be a stunning human being; a bit eccentric maybe, but that only adds to her beauty, you think. The bright lilac streaks in her tightly coiled hair match the overall dye of your own, a sentiment you both think speaks volumes for the kind of friendship you have. Her cinnamon-colored skin is radiant and smooth, and she has a smile that lights up any room.

“Watch where you’re going before you trip or something. I’m not carrying your ass the three miles back to civilization,” you grouse good-naturedly, giving her shoulder a playful swat.

Dominique laughs, the sound echoing through the sparse canopy around you. But she spins back around and resumes stalking through the underbrush, the flashlight in her hand swinging wildly across the trees. Her platform combat boots make quick work of the climbing weeds and thin saplings under foot as she picks up her pace.

She started dabbling in witchy things over a decade ago, mostly crystals, tarot cards, herbs…and now summoning demons, you suppose. When she first showed you her tarot cards and the satchel of crystals her grandmother passed down to her on her eighteenth birthday, you humored her by letting her read your fortune or whatever it is she did with them, thinking it would be a phase and pass.

But, as the years went by and she continued to delve into the mystic arts and varying degrees of the occult, you realized it wouldn’t be passing; at least, not any time soon. It’s become less about humoring her and simply more about supporting your best friend in what she loves to do, even if you find it a bit unorthodox.

“We’re almost there,” Dominique sing-songs, throwing her hands up and doing what you’ve coined as her terrible impression of jazz hands. The bangles on her wrists clack together, creating a tinkling sound that you find eerie as it peals through the quiet of the forest.

“Oh, golly gosh, how exciting,” you mutter to yourself so Dom doesn’t hear your unenthusiastic sarcasm, before continuing a bit louder, “Cool. Think we’ll be back before the sun comes up? I’d like to be able to get at least a few hours of sleep before work tomorrow.”

Dominique chuckles, her shoulders swaying as if she moves to some musical beat you can’t hear. “Don’t worry yourself, my lovely friend. I’ll make sure you’re home and in bed long before the sun graces us with its warmth.”

You follow Dom through a tight squeeze between two towering trees. It opens up to a small clearing. The moon, bright and full overhead, illuminates the space like a spotlight setting the stage for a grand number. In the very center of it all stands a giant tree, the star of the show, with its branches reaching far to each side. Its leaves thread through those of the others lining the edge of the clearing.

“Wow,” you mutter in awe. “It’s so creepy it’s actually kind of pretty.”

Your friend claps delightedly, a girlish squeal of excitement echoing from her. “It’s just like Grann described. She told me stories about this place when I was little. I always wanted to come see for myself, but by the time I was old enough, I had honestly forgotten it existed.”

“Until you decided you wanted to summon a demon,” you offer, earning a giggle from Dominique.

“Until I decided I wanted to try and summon a demon,” she agrees, clicking off her flashlight and shoving it into the crossbody bag she has over her shoulder.

You follow her further into the clearing. The tree in the center seems to grow taller the closer you get, looking larger than life once you’re under the outer fringe of its branches. The leaves are dark and richly green, and the trunk looks rough, gnarled, and ancient. It must be hundreds of years old, you’d wager.

The ground underfoot changes from the soft give of grass and dirt to a harder, more resistant feel as you move ahead, just behind Dominique. “Odd,” you say, stamping your foot. The heavy thud of solid ground sounds from under your foot. “It’s almost like…” You trail off, realizing it’s exactly what it sounds like.

Beneath the layer of leaves and other debris, there is a faint, hard-packed path. You can see it now, the distinct difference in the way the grass grows. It’s like a path runs straight at the tree before bisecting to either side of it.

“A true crossroads,” Dominique announces. “Full of old magick, a pinnacle of power…so divine. Can’t you feel it?”

Whether it’s of your own accord, or Dom bringing attention to it, you’re suddenly aware of a distinct buzzing sensation crawling its way up your arms and down your spine. It feels like ants skittering over your skin and you’re just waiting for that sting of the first bite.

An uneasiness settles in, filling the pit of your stomach with wasps instead of butterflies. Something about this place feels wrong. Like one false move and the ground will open up and swallow you whole.

“I-I don’t know if I like this, Dom. This place is giving me the creeps.” You no longer find it all that beautiful. If anything, you’re fairly certain the beauty is hiding what is really underneath: pure, unadulterated wickedness.

She pulls a small tin from her back pocket and gives it a little shake. The contents inside rattle around, making you wince at the sudden, jarring sound. You watched Dominique fill the tin earlier tonight. Graveyard dirt, a few strands of hair, a photograph, a sliver of yarrow root, and a few drops of blood soaked into a square of homemade paper fit tightly into the hinge-lidded metal box that once held tiny breath mints.

Dominique explained the significance of each item, but if someone asked you right now to repeat what she said, you don’t think you could. Especially not with the anxiety deep in your gut growing in intensity with each passing second.

“There’s nothing to be worried about. It’s just a box. You said it yourself, this probably won’t work. Worse case, I get my hands dirty burying this, and then we can go home…where I will graciously accept as many ‘I told you so’s’ as you want to give me.”

You sigh, resigned to let her do this. You take a few steps back, giving Dominique a wide berth as she kneels down in the grass in front of the tree. The jeans and ribbed long-sleeve shirt you’re wearing are keeping you comfortable, but despite that, you shudder as a chill passes over you.

The words Dom mutters are incoherent to you, sounding mostly like gibberish spoken with a thick, in-the-throat accent. As soon as the incantation trails off, she pushes to her feet and brushes the dirt from her hands off onto the thighs of her jeans. The whole time her focus is lasered in on the small mound of disturbed earth where her tin now resides.

😈😈😈

Jimin

The sound of treading footfalls echo around Jimin, seeming both distant and close all at once. It’s the same every time someone decides to disturb the relative peace of a crossroads. First, it’s the sound of their footsteps, then the airy inhale and exhales of their lungs, and then comes the erratic, lub-dub of their heartbeats.

Seems it’s time to go to work. There is an order to these things, a queue of sorts, and it just so happens that now it’s his turn. It’s been a while since Jimin was summoned, though not long enough as far as he’s concerned. With the number of demons combined with the progression of disbelief among the human population, the fewer people who believe, the fewer people who demand deals.

It’s not that Jimin hates his job, per se. He quite enjoys haggling his way through pitiful souls, satiating that deep, internal ache inside himself. It’s a primal necessity, one derived from being at the top of the proverbial spiritual food chain. Yet…he’s found himself growing tired of the mundane dribble of the same tired requests.

Nothing excites him anymore, and that should be a crime punishable by a thousand years in the darkest sanguine pit of his world, he thinks. Being a demon should be fun—it once was. But, after thousands of years of hearing the same sniveling pleas and demanding offers, he desires something more…just, more.

The inside of his quarters in the Obsidian Fortress reflect his restlessness. He’s acquired some of the more baser items from his time up top. A bed he doesn’t need, furniture that would easily sell for millions at auction for its rarity. Jimin has come to covet such things, if only for the fact that he thrills in acquiring something that someone else wants so badly.

The eclectic collection now looks more ramshackle than anything, though, with the chaos of discarded clothing items and trinkets tossed about. If anyone else were to see his quarters, they might think him manic. All it would take is a simple flex of his power to right everything, to return all the clothing to their place in the armoire, and to neatly tuck his trinkets back onto the tansu in the corner.

Yet, he can’t bring himself to clean up. Not just yet, at least, he needs one more moment to enjoy this before seeing to the demanding call from above. The disorder offers comfort in its own way, something for his mind to focus on instead of the dreary, repetitive existence he seems to be trapped in. But, duty calls…unfortunately. Taking one last look around his quarters, absorbing the chaos of it all, he sighs and taps a forefinger against the side of his thigh, and in a flash, everything is as it should be.

Irritated now more than ever, he considers ignoring the call from up top for just a while longer, in spite of himself and the cleaning he just did. Not like it matters either way because whoever they are, they’re taking their sweet ass time getting to the good part. Intriguing, though, that there are two sets of footfalls. Typically people do these things on their own. But, Jimin doesn’t mind an audience. Maybe it’ll even be more exciting that way; he sure as hell could use it now.

It’s been some time since he was last called upon, but even longer than that since he had some genuine fun. Long gone are the days when the people who wanted to strike a deal actually asked for something worthwhile. No, it’s gone from selfless pleas for the health and prosperity of families to coveting millions of followers on Instagram for oneself or something equally as ridiculous—how utterly boring.

Though, he supposes, it’s no wonder humans have grown selfish, considering the world they’ve supposedly revolutionized for themselves. Sensationalized greed and loathing, poisoned with the bitter taste of caffeine and processed foods. Most would probably think that’s a treat to his kind; easy prey and all that. But, they couldn’t be more wrong.

Jimin sighs, rolling his head from side to side over his shoulders as if he could somehow rub away the itch now grating beneath his skin. His corporeal form is his preferred, even if it comes with its own set of limitations.

For instance, moving slower between his place in the underworld and up top. It burns as he wills his body to the surface. It’s a pain he welcomes, as a reminder that there is more to life than his servitude, and if he plays his cards right tonight, he’ll get to walk away with a special little treat in his pocket.

As soon as he surfaces, he flexes his power and suspends everything in the clearing in time. It gives him a moment to consider the offering and gather his bearings. Using a hand on the trunk of the tree to keep his balance, Jimin bends down and sifts through the dirt, fingers plucking the small, metal box from the earth.

The giant tree at his back is a comforting presence. It’s seen a fair amount of deals, his as well as others. Just a silent sentinel watching over each morsel of humanity bargained away. Which, thinking of that, Jimin shakes off his mental fog and refocuses on the two women standing before him.

They are both uniquely pleasing to Jimin’s eyes. He would enjoy sampling them both, given the chance. It’s a shame that’s not how these things go. Maybe if he’s persuasive enough, he can garner some sort of pleasure, even if it’s just taking in the smell of a second soul he won’t know the taste of.

Jimin bounces the tin in his hand for a second before thumbing open the lid. The contents are the usual bits and pieces. Well, usual at first glance. But, taking a closer look, he pauses…realizing there is something different about the clump of hair inside.

Sure, it’s purple, which makes it quite unique to begin with. But it’s more than that. Plucking out the hairs, Jimin brings them to his nose and gives a sniff. All reservations about tonight being any sort of mundane are quickly replaced with an assurance of fun and intrigue. Tucking the hair away and slipping the tin into his pocket, his mind begins to swirl.

He thought having an audience might make things interesting, but he never imagined this possibility in all his millennia; sure to be fun indeed. Resuming a demeanor of nonchalance, Jimin leans back against the tree and, with a flick of his wrist, allows most of the world around him to resume breathing once more.

😈😈😈

Mmm. Well, well, well, what do we have here? Two little mice come to play?

The voice is a seductive purr that licks across your psyche. It’s simultaneously inside your thoughts and in your ears, everywhere all at once. Dominique is frozen where she stands before the tree, her hands tightly fisted at her sides. She doesn’t so much as appear to be breathing.

You whip around, trying to seek the source of the voice, but your best friend is the only other being you can see in the clearing.

“W-who’s th-there?” you choke out through quivering vocal cords. “Dominique? Dom, let’s just go!”

The few steps you have to take in order to grab Dominique by the arm feel like miles with the way your feet shuffle sluggishly. It feels like you’re wading through thick mud instead of meadow grass.

As soon as your fingers brush her arm, an electric shock zings up your arm, and the scream that bursts from your lungs is a mix of pain and terror. The same instant the zap surges up your arm, a man appears lazily leaning against the tree trunk. You’re certain he wasn’t there before.

Oh. How deliciously interesting. The same voice from before reverberates through your mind and echoes in your ears. One contract. Yet…I taste the essence of two distinct souls. He pushes off from the tree and cocks his head to the side, inhuman vermillion eyes lock on Dominique in consideration.

Ignoring the fiery burn where your skin touches hers, you tug on Dominique’s arm, but no matter how hard you pull, she doesn’t budge. “Dom, this isn’t funny! Let’s go, now!” Your words are edging on hysterical. Tears of fright flood your lashline, causing you to blink rapidly to try and keep a clear eye on the strange man. “You stay away from her!”

Those haunting scarlet eyes flick in your direction, and a sly smile hooks up one corner of his pouty mouth. He doesn’t move any closer, but you’d swear that if your eyes were closed, the sweeping sensation that you feel caressing the apple of your cheek is his fingers. Fear not for your friend, little mouse. It is you that you should be concerned for. In all my millennia, never before have I come across a free soul. Tell me, is this simply a mistake, or is it intentional? Either way, I think I’ll enjoy this…yes, I think I’ll enjoy this very much.

“Oh my god. Holy shit, I did it,” Dominique whispers. Her body sways like she suddenly was released from whatever was making her immobile. The way she stares at the man with wide eyes and a half smile, you wonder if she’s even registered the last few minutes that have passed. “Look! Look, do you see him? A fucking demon! I did it!” She whoops with glee, stamping her feet in clear excitement.

“What the fuck, Dom?! Let’s get out of here!”

You try to yank on her arm again, but she shrugs you off this time, giving you another one of those disgruntled looks. “And lose this opportunity? No fucking way.” She shoos your hands away and whips her phone from her pocket, immediately thumbing to the camera and begins to film.

A solid presence at your back keeps you from taking a step backward. It feels like you’re pressed against a wall. “Dom, please!”

The man takes another step forward, coming within just a few feet of where Dominique is standing. His eyes catch the moonlight and flash like twin blood red rubies. Dark, coifed hair frames his smooth forehead, and his pert nose leads to lips that are full and glossy.

If there ever was someone that embodied all the devious, lust-filled thoughts in the world; this would be them. “A real demon,” Dom breathes. “My very own demon.”

The man—demon—tuts softly, wagging a dainty finger in the air. “I belong to no one, least of all to a sweet, little field mouse like you. If anything, it’s one of you that belongs to me.” It’s the same voice that was threading through your mind just moments before, only now it’s crystal clear and fills only your ears; it’s sweet like honeyed music. A significant contrast to the wicked words themselves.

Dominique laughs. “Me belong to you? Riiiight. Pretty sure that’s not how this works. I summoned you, demon.”

“Be that as it may, you’re not the only little mouse here,” the demon chuckles darkly. He turns slowly, his eyes cutting in your direction. “It is, in fact, your delicious friend here that seems to be caught in my web without a way out. Imagine my surprise when I’m summoned here, only to discover that there are two souls but just one contract. Seems someone made a grave mistake, judging by how she quivers just so.” You watch as the demon comes closer, pulling something from his pocket. It’s the tin, you realize, as the silver exterior flashes in the moonlight.

“What are you talking about?” You and Dominique ask at the same time.

With a thumb, the demon flicks open the small mint tin, exposing the cluster of items within. He pinches the strands of purple hair between his thumb and forefinger, pulling them from the tin. “It’s a shame, really. I assume you didn’t pull these directly from your pretty head,” he muses, devilish eyes flicking at Dom. “A brush or a comb perhaps…one that your friend may have also used a time or two.”

Dominique absently pats at her hair, fingers coiling around a few of the stray strands of purple—the same purple as your own hair—that have escaped her buns. Cold dread pours down your spine and fills your belly until you think you might be sick.

“Dom…tell me he’s not saying what I think he’s saying.”

Her breathing grows erratic, but she provides no response or affirmations for you. Because you both know exactly what happened. You watched as she plucked purple strands of hair from the boar bristle brush. A brush that you have used in a pinch a few times when you couldn’t find your own.

“B-but, she’s…she’s not the one that summoned you. I did. This is my contract, my blood sacrifice!”

The demon hums, tilting his head side to side in a thoughtful, so-so manner. “That’s the interesting part. Well, interesting for me, more’s the pity for you. You see, the blood you so graciously added to this tin here—” he gives the now closed box a little shake “—affords your soul some safety. However, without that…well, an unprotected soul is just so tantalizing and ripe for the plucking.”

“NO!” Dominique screams, throwing up her hands and stepping in front of you as if she can shield you from your fate. “I’ll do anything you want. This—this, um, my deal…yes, my deal is you have to leave my friend alone. I want to protect her soul. You can’t have her, that’s what I want!”

He throws his head back, crowing to the moon with maniacal laughter. The tailored suit jacket and white shirt covering his torso gleam as his whole body shakes. The grass beneath his shiny loafers begins to dance and sway, almost like flickering flames. The sight he presents terrifies you.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” he finally says after his laughter trails off. He smooths his hands down the lapels of his jacket as if to compose himself. “You’re essentially asking for the price of a soul. Which, being generous, is quite priceless to begin with. Anyone would be hard-pressed to give up such a delightful treat. Let’s see—” he  tucks his hands into his trouser pockets and paces a few steps away before turning back “—I think, and mind you, this is being quite nice considering…sixty years would suffice.”

“Sixty years?! Sixty years of what?”

Before the demon can answer, Dominique explains in his stead, “My life. Sixty years of my life in exchange for your soul.”

“In exchange for…what? What the actual hell is going on? Neither of us is going anywhere with this fucking psycho! Let’s just get out of here, Dom!”

Angry tears sting your eyes, but you don’t even care to stop them from sliding down your cheeks as you desperately try to pull Dominique backward. That solid, impenetrable presence is still behind you, but you ram your shoulder against it over and over, grunts of frustration ripping from your throat.

“It’s no use,” Dominique resigns with a sigh. “Neither of us can leave before the deal is sealed.”

“This is nonsense! A cruel prank. Give it up, Dom, it’s not funny!” you beg, yanking at her arm. “Just stop!”

“I can’t move,” she tells you, and you watch as her body sways on the spot like she’s trying to lift her feet but cannot. “I’m sorry, okay? I am so sorry.”

“But, it’s not real. It can’t be real! You said so yourself that this wouldn’t work! Sixty years, Dom, you’ll die!” Desperation colors your words, your voice cracking from the intensity.

Dominique turns her head to look at you, her lips parted as if she’s about to speak, but she freezes once again. It’s like she’s turned into a statue, a macabre wax replica of herself.

Calm yourself, little mouse. There is no need to panic. If the taste of her soul is any indication, she will agree with my terms. Sixty years of her life in exchange for letting you scamper away back into your little burrow, soul intact.

“She’s thirty, if you take sixty years, she’d…that’s not fair! There has to be another way.” You lick your dry lips and can feel the demon watching the quick swipe of your tongue as you do so.

One moment he is a few feet away, and the next, he’s crowding into your space, forcing you back against the invisible barrier behind you. The acrid scent of brimstone and burnt matches clogs your nose, carrying with it the subtlest hint of citrus bite.

Up this close, you’re able to see just how deep red his eyes are and how utterly flawless the expanse of his face is. The pointed tips of his canines peek out as his lips pull back in a rictus grin.

That is my price, human. Your friend gives me sixty years of her life right now and I’ll leave you alone. Perhaps, if you’re lucky, she’ll be healthy and cognisant long enough for you to say goodbye.

“And if she says no, if she doesn’t agree?” you ask in a shaky whisper.

In that case, you become mine…wholly and completely. You see, your friend was careless in her dabbling, naive and truly laughable, honestly. Such wasted potential. A sound similar to a sigh feathers through the explanation, and you can see the demon roll his eyes as if he’s annoyed with the revelation.

“Wholly and completely? Not protected?”

The blood sacrifice that is needed for summoning demons is a way to bind a demon to the rules of the crossroads. It means we’re not allowed to bring untoward harm to those we are summoned by. However, because your friend decided to be lazy and pull hair from a brush instead of from her head, combined with the lack of your blood inside that little tin, well…you’re not protected by those rules. Meaning, if I wasn’t such a nice fiend, I’d have gobbled up your sad soul the instant it was presented to me. Which is exactly what I’ll do if your friend says no.

You can tell he’s trying to make it seem like it’s Dominique’s fault. And, maybe, in many ways, it is, but you also feel responsible for indulging in this madness in the first place. But, it also seems far too simple, like— “That seems like a really shitty loophole,” you say aloud, echoing your internal sentiment. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to try and trick me? I’ve read about demons, they’re known to be liars and con artists.”

The demon reaches out and tugs lightly on a stray lock of your hair, making you hiss in pain. “At least you’re cute and smart. But, if you insist.”

He steps back, putting much-needed space between your body and his, though it puts him closer to Dominique, and your fingers itch to shove him farther away from her. Not that you think you even could. He might look slight in build, but you know it’s not his physique you’d have to contend with, but whatever demonic magick he has.

With a flick of his wrist, a giant scroll unfurls in the air. Several feet of winding parchment swirl around you. It settles on the ground in great heaps, one end held in his fingertips and the other lost somewhere among the waves. He snaps the fingers of his other hand, and Dominique completes her turn toward you, confusion instantly furrowing her brow. Whatever she was going to say dies on her tongue.

“What the fuck?” she asks absently as she looks down at the yards of paper covering the toes of her combat boots.

“Perhaps you’ll be interested in this as well,” he says, gesturing with the paper in her direction. “Considering this is your contract, after all. You both should be thanking me for this opportunity, I don’t typically do this. But, with it being a special circumstance, I figured I’d indulge before any hasty decisions are made. Go on, read between the lines. Because, as they say, the devil—well, demon,” he chuckles lightly at his own joke, “—is in the details.”

😈😈😈

Jimin

It’s cute watching the two mortals actually attempt to read the contract. The contract is written in The Dark Tongue, the language spoken by all daemon-kind, but with a little trickle of power, it appears in whatever language is necessary for the reader.

“How are we supposed to read and comprehend all this nonsense? It’s worse than reading a legal document. All of it sounds made up, jargon that a group of kids came up with or something,” you mutter under your breath.

Jimin has yet to learn your name. It would be easy to reach into your mind, or the mind of Dominique—whose name you inadvertently, yet conveniently, provided to him—and pluck it out. But, for some reason, he wishes for you to be the one to tell him on your own. 

Dominique fumbles with a length of the contract, frantically skimming. “I-I don’t know. Look, I’ll…I’ll just take it. This is my fault, my fuck up. I can’t let you be punished for something I was so careless over. It doesn’t matter what any of this says,” she shakes the contract, “because there are probably too many hidden meanings, and…you’re not going to pay for what I’ve done.”

“What? No, Dom. Shut up, okay. You don’t get to talk like that.” Your voice is thready and thin, breaking as you plead with her.

“I don’t have a choice here. I have to make a deal, regardless,” Dom mutters. She moves in close to you, her eyes flicking over to Jimin before she leans in even closer, putting her mouth close to your ear.

It takes tremendous effort for Jimin not to roll his eyes at the action. They could be miles away, whispering, and he would still be able to hear them. He listens as they start to try to devise a plan that involves keeping both of their souls. Jimin can taste the conviction in Dominique, and knows that no matter what, she’s not going to just let you go. Not without a fight, at least. But, she has the right of it. She can’t leave this glade without signing on the dotted lines. Whether on this contract or a different one.

Finally, after several minutes, the contract forgotten on the ground; it seems that Dominique and you have come up with some sort of plan. Jimin tuned out most of it, not really caring one way or another. It wouldn’t change his offer or what is required tonight.

“It’s okay, Dom. It’s going to be okay,” you reassure her in a soft voice. “I trust you.”

As Jimin swings his attention back up, letting the two figures come into focus, he makes a mental note that the tears shining in Dominique’s eyes are not mirrored in your own. Your back is straight, chin jutting out in what appears to be an attempt at courage. It’s delightful to see that you’re not a complete jellyfish.

“So, ladies, are you satisfied?”

You swallow audibly, but your resolve doesn’t wither as you stare him in the eye and shake your head. “I have a new offer, different parameters.”

Jimin suppresses the laughter that fills his chest. “Well, let’s hear it, then.”

“Before we start, w-we—I want…I want to make sure this new deal guarantees that she’s unharmed,” Dominique's voice quivers as she speaks.

One of Jimin’s perfect brows arches in curiosity. “Go on.”

“She’s not giving up sixty years of her life. That is not happening. So, I’ll go with you, but under the condition that you allow us to see each other in person once a week, right here in this clearing for as long as the moon is in the sky. Just so she knows I’m okay.” Your sass is appealing. Jimin had thought you were the more demure one of the two, but it seems maybe he was wrong.

He contemplates for a moment, considering the new parameters. “Once a year.”

“No, that’s not good enough. A lot can happen in a year. Twice a month.”

The fact you’re not even trying to bargain for your life, just time, at this point, is amusing to Jimin. It’s not often he gets to barter. Most humans just take his initial deal and think they have no other options.

“Twice a year,” he counters, interested in what you’ll suggest next, though he can feel himself grow tired with the prospect of the back-and-forth already. His intrigue instantly takes a dive.

You shake your head, accepting the hand that Dominique offers you. Your fingers squeeze around hers as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. “Once a month. Please. That isn’t asking much, I wouldn’t think.”

“Once a quarter.”

“No. No. Once a month! And you only keep her for three years,” Dominique states, her tone more demanding than he feels is warranted considering the situation. He pointedly ignores her.

“Please,” you implore, looking vulnerable for the first time since you discovered his desire for sixty years of Dominique’s life in exchange for your soul.

Jimin’s eyes flash with annoyance. “You do realize I could simply end this farce? All it would take is a snap of my fingers—” his eyes blaze with flames for a second as they bore into yours, his voice growing harsher “—and you’d be mine while your friend was left floundering. Do not think to press this any further. I will keep her for ten years and not a day less. You may have your once-a-month meeting and the only person in this sad existence who will remember you exist is her.” He flicks a hand in Dominique’s direction, making her flinch.

😈😈😈

Knowing Dominique will be safe is a relief. But the prospect of everyone in your life ceasing to know you exist is another blow you weren’t expecting. In fact, you were hoping to use that to your advantage. If Dominique could go back and file a missing persons report, it might help somehow. But now…now, that’s another option off the table.

Ten years. That’s seemingly an unfathomable amount of time now that you’re facing it; more akin to an eternity as far as you’re concerned. But, you try to remain hopeful. Whatever happens at the end of those ten years is something you’re not certain you have the mental capacity to think about right now.

You did your best to keep your voice low when you put your head together with Dom’s, not sure whether or not the demon would be able to overhear your exchange. You told Dom that she can’t give up sixty years. That you would rather endure a few years of servitude to the demon in the chance that she could discover a way to free you. If anyone could do that, you know it would be her.

She has sworn to do all that she can to see you released from his grasp. Even if she has to summon every crossroads demon between here and the other side of the world, she’s vowed to do just that. The first thing she’s going to do when she leaves his clearing is call her Grann and tell her everything. You’re confident that even if this demon erases you from everyone else’s memory, Grann will believe Dom regardless.

You straighten your spine, giving Dom’s hand a squeeze before untangling your fingers from hers. “Accept the deal, Dom. This is how it has to be.”

“I-I can’t do that,” Dominique whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. “Please don’t make me do that.”

“Dom, you have to.” You turn to her, soaking in the sight of her beautiful face while you can. “I trust you,” you say the words slowly, enunciating clearly in hopes she gets your meaning. “I’ll see you in one month, okay? One month.”

Dom’s lips tremble as they open to form the word of acquiescence. The one word that will seal your fate and her guilt.

“Yes.”

“So be it.” Jimin flicks his wrist, and the contract retracts back into its rolled-up form. He unfurls it again in the same movement, displaying it once again before you and Dominique. “Each month on this same day, we shall return here for precisely one hour’s time. Whether you show or not is your own prerogative,” Jimin directs that at Dominique before turning his gaze and focusing back on you. “You will be mine. Body, mind, and soul. You will not disobey me, you will not hesitate to do as I tell you, and you will never question me. If you do, this contract will be void, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity making you regret ever befriending this poor excuse of a witch. Is that clear?”

“Ye—” Dominique jolts forward, her free hand slapping over your mouth and cutting you off.

“Don’t. Don’t you say anything. He’s trying to trick you into an agreement that is separate from mine. You don’t have to agree to anything, don’t let him lull you into things like that. Please,” she beseeches, “be vigilant. Do not accept anything he says at face value. Always think before you agree.” Dom tears her eyes from yours, training them on the being watching your exchange. “Hear me, demon. You’ll do well to remember the first part of my demand: I want her unharmed. If she has so much as a single hair out of place the next time I see her, I swear—”

The tip of his nose twitches as his lips mash into a thin line before cutting her off, “Best hold your tongue, witch, lest I cut it out for daring to tout such nonsense. As if I would breach the terms of a contract. She will be unharmed. I may be a demon, but that does not make me a monster nor a cheat.”

Dom gives you one last searching look. You nod, letting her know it’s okay.

“I’ve already agreed, demon. Let’s finish this.” And, so, with a prick of Dominique’s thumb and a smear of blood, it’s finished…all because your best friend buried a box.

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