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moonchild1 · 2 months

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park jimin fic rec list (Ⅲ)

woah it really has been a long time since i posted but i am so glad to be back and to get back into reading i saw so many of my favourite authors have updated and i am beyond excited to start this journey again but in the mean time here's jimin rec list as promised it was so exciting finishing this list cause i got so nostalgic making it and reading all the old fics i had on my reading list ughhh i just loved it so much and it got me back into the swing of things and i cant wait to make more lists, i do have another jjk list ready and i will post it the day after tomorrow so i hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to show all the love and support in the world to these amazing authors they work so hard to create these fics for us and they deserve endless praise and love for the commitment and generosity they have so please do leave them a comment, heart or reblog a small comment can go a long way here and can make someone smile even bigger so dont don't shy away from making someone happy... as usual you guys know this fics i recommend contain smut so minors don't interact you will be blocked... i really do love hearing from you guys so if you do have a little fic you are super into right now and you just want to rant about how amazing it is feel free to send me an ask 😊🖤

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

plot twist by @xpeachesncream f s a

↳ jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.

a remedy for mondays by @dovechim s

↳ all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

it’s okay, that’s love by @/dovechim f s a deals with deep subjects

↳ People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.

so it goes by @/dovechim f s

↳ Park Jimin knows a lot about humans. of course he does, he studies them for a living. he knows that they say hello by holding hands, and when they say goodbye, they put their arms around each other. but this particular human, he notes, is unlike the rest- stuck in a slump, going about your day praying for the Universe to stage an intervention in the form of an alien abduction. when he decides to finally fulfil your wishes, he finds that you have a little something to teach him about what it means to live life on Earth the way you do: ugly crying, underwear and all. in return, he shows you the possibilities that abound if you simply adopted their mantra: everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts.

love again by @taestefully-in-luv f s a

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

the other woman: the seduction and the illusion by @namjooningelsewhere f s a

↳ No one told you being the other woman would never be easy, No one told you that his love would be two sides to a same coin. No one told you he came to you because you were his escape to his demons. No one told you he would always call you his, but he would never be yours. And most importantly no one told you, He never loved you because you dont destroy the people you love.

FUTURE HEARTS by @jungblue f s a ft. jjk

↳ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook.

after the applause by @foxymoxynoona

↳ Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

saved by @to-star-lake s a

rockstar au deep subjects read warnings

midnight memories by @hobipaint f s a

↳ there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, ‘former friend’ - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?

Easy. You forget about it.

heartbreak chronicles by @sugaxjpg s

↳ Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well.

drifting by@hongcherry f a

↳ After being assigned different partners for your midterm routine, your and Jimin’s relationship starts to deteriorate when you both begin spending more time away from each other and with your assigned partners instead.

growing pains by @taleasnewastime f s a

↳ Growing up the daughter of the boss of a gang is never easy, but normally the problems are around being given too many responsibilities, or the risk of being connected to a gang leader, or wanting to escape but not being able to. But you’ve got a different problem, you want more responsibility, want to be like your brother who’s been named heir, want a role in the family gang. Your whole life you’ve been denied what you want, being born a female seemingly your main issue; perceived as weak, naïve, trying to step above your station. But as unsupportive and dismissive as your family is, there is always the bright light that is Jimin; the boy you love but can never have.

tuqburni by @solastia f s a ft.myg

↳ You’ve spent two years building a life with Yoongi who you loved more than anything in the world. Now, his ex-boyfriend Jimin is back in the picture, and Yoongi begs you not to make him choose between the two of you, offering the choice of a polyamorous relationship. Though your heart is shattered, you agree.

stardust by @venusjeon f a

↳ struck by your beauty, Jimin begs to paint you naked behind the world's back so as not to stain your influential family—his patrons—with scandal.

drift by @snackhobi f s

↳ You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.

the deli diaries by @jimlingss f

↳ Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.

best of me by @xotoosweet f a

↳ when he tells the story of how he met you in a few years, he'll claim that it was meant to be. you'll laugh and call it a coincidence. it was a coincidence that on the first day of summer semester, he decided to go on a run (though he claimed he always ran in the mornings). it was a coincidence that he chose a less traveled path in the university arboretum that morning. and it was definitely a coincidence that you were there, sitting on the rail of the river bridge.

the ten days of ex-mas by @kpopfanfictrash f s a

↳ Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

strip by @yoonia f s a

↳ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?

falling by @/yoonia s a

↳ For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

wrapped around by @jjkfire ft. kth f s a

↳ Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

baby, baby by @hobiwonder f s a

↳ When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

love at first touch by bagelswrites (ao3)

↳ The first time you meet your soulmate, it leaves a bruise on both of you at the point of contact. From then on, your body begins rejecting any sustenance other than the touch of your soulmate. The trick is, the bruises take a few hours to appear, so you have to figure out who you've touched and find them before you starve to death. But once you do, all you ever need is them. So what happens if you're an idol and you meet your soulmate at a fan event?

our little family by @nightbts f a

↳ you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary

one-shot 35

brand new eyes by @missgeniality s

↳ Jimin’s eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.

waves by @shina913 s

↳ It's Valentine's Day and your boyfriend decides to spice things up with a little surprise for you.

failure to communicate by @gukslut s

↳ Enemies to Lovers/ College AU

physical by @ppersonna f s

↳ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.

good for you by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids s

↳ Jimin can’t help the way he drowns himself in you. Why should he anyway?

ho-ho-home by @jjungkookislife s a

↳ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.

100km/hour by @chateautae s

↳ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

what it's like by @jimilter s

↳ You’ve always heard great tales about how good the infamous fuckboy on campus, Park Jimin, is in bed, and wondered if there could be any truth behind these claims when the guy looks like an angel with his cheruby cheeks and precious smiles. So when a new gossip starts to circulate about how ‘hard he hits’, you have had enough of the suspense and decide to finally sample him yourself.

feel your touch by @/jimilter f s a

↳ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.

the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @/jimilter f s a ft jjk

↳ He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

scream your panties by @opaljm s a

↳ As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin’s frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend’s delicious self between your legs.

first snow, last kiss by @taeshobipop f s a

↳ He broke your heart four years ago; the old loving memories of your time together now tainted by pure betrayal. Yet in the haze of new snow, after returning home for the first time, the moments you had once convinced yourself were nothing but a lie, reveal themselves to be otherwise.

antifreeze by @winetae s

↳ Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute

what she likes by @untaemedqueen f s

idol au husband au marriage au

only you by @personasintro f s a

↳ you’ve been always there for your best friend, even when he became a single dad

sucker by @/personasintro s a

↳ You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

please, lie to me by @ressjeon s a

↳ "centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?"

summer synchrony by @seokkgenie f s a

↳ childhood friends to lovers

neon seoul @readyplayerhobi f s a

↳ It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important. You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?

serendipity by @btsracket s a ao3

↳ It's serendipitous. Jimin braces for darkness but finds his light instead.

the boyfriend concept by @/kpopfanfictrash s

↳ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.

Lovely Demons by @/kpopfanfictrash s a

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

blue blood by @joonbird s a

↳ “Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”

i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts f s a

↳ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

locked in love by @parkmuse f s a

↳ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.

peaches and cream by @snackhobi s

↳ you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost.

reset by @/dovechim s

↳ We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege.

the dark side of the moon by @/dovechim s

↳ falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes.

Unconditionally by @kstopping s a

↳ Jimin constantly torments you. But you love it.

Instinct by @evangelene f a

↳ A lost child appears into your life only to bring you closer Jimin–a man that you’d thought you’d hated once upon a time. Now all you want is to be there for the child, and maybe his father–but only if his mother gets the hell out of the way.

eternal sunlight by @kidguk f s a

↳ “college and soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. jimin thinks he met his soulmate exactly four months after he met and fell in love with you. you can’t explain your attraction or your feelings toward him, even though technically you’re meant to be with other people. taehyung and jungkook helpfully suggest that the universe might be glitching.”

foul play by @kimvtae f s a

↳ Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.

lost and found by @/kimvtae s a

↳ The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.

if we were a movie by @/kimvtae f s a

↳ Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.

the pull of the tides by @goldenscript f s

↳ The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too.

hard to say by @floralseokjin f s a

↳you've had feelings for your best friend Jimin for as long as you can remember, but you always thought they were unreciprocated. What if it turned out they weren’t...?

↬looking for pjm library or the other members check out my library

721 notes · View notes

hoseokshobagi · 3 months

Text

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ | Sneak peak | PJM

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ sneak peak

✞PAIRING: demon!jimin x fem!reader

✞ 【SUMMARY】: for years jimin was your constant and loyal companion in the church, a shining example of humility and compassion. but when he was tragically taken from the world before he could experience life, his heart was filled with anger and resentment. and so, in a moment of weakness, he struck a deal with the devil, trading his soul for a second chance at life. but when he returned, he was no longer your kind and devoted boy you once knew.

✞ 『GENRE』: dark ✟ supernatural ✟ fantasy ✟ angst ✟ smut

✞ RATING: 18+ / minors do not interact

✞ WORD COUNT: loading...

✞ [WARNINGS/TAGS] : dead dove, dark, death, manipulation, corruption (kink?), church & religion, blasphemy & desecration, [oral(m) - not with reader, headpusher jimin, face fucking, spit play], dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, dubcon, public fingering, exhibitionism, sexual "nightmares" & hallucinations, mind games, jimin is the worst & the BIGGEST warning!!!!, oral(f), cunt drunk jimin, unprotected sex, rough sex, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, unrealistic amount of cum lmao, cum play, betrayal, mind break

✞ NOTE: hi beautiful people!!! this story was written for the @btsfests writing fest. actually this is the first time i publish my writing and omg ahcbdjs i'm so nervous while writing this note. i always wrote for myself and my closest friends but thanks to bts fests and their never ending encouraging words i decided to show off my writing. this little part is the reason why i started writing this whole story and i hope you'll like it just as much as i enjoyed writing every word. :] this demon jimin is the most cunty & selfish character i've written so far so yall better prepare yourselves ajfnsjxnsjs

english is not my native language, but despite that i'll write and communicate in english. please if you see an error in my writing or grammar lmk!! <3

my dearest beta read: @liveyun 🐢♡

COMING SOON

❗this is the darkest fic i've ever written so please read all the warnings before reading❗

The delicate chimes of the church bell echoed softly through the cavernous rafters, casting an unsettling shadow over Jimin’s mind. Like ghostly whispers emanating from the very walls and pillars of the church, the sounds seemed to taunt him. Whispering to him that he no longer belonged in this sacred space.

He couldn’t believe how he used to devour Father Seokjin’s every word, eagerly drinking up his sermons like it was the finest wine he ever tasted. In this very church, where he had spent countless hours sitting in the pews, Jimin felt like a stranger in the world he once called home.

He looked to his left and gazed upon the sweet, delicate flower — the very reason why he was there. Innocence shining in your eyes, your eyelashes fluttered like the softest butterfly wings. Sitting next to him with hands clasped tightly together in your lap, you looked as pure as new snow, listening to the mass.

Oh, how much he forced himself to resist the urge to reach out and ruin you right then and there. To feel the delicate petals of your innocence as they crumpled beneath his fingers. But he was going to do so slowly, savoring every moment of your fall from grace.

So, he grit his teeth and forced himself to endure the priest’s words and the choir’s music, at least, for a while.

Despite his best efforts, this place was as dull and lifeless as the stones that made up its walls. He spent half of his life trapped within these confines, he knew every creak of the floorboards, every flicker of light, every word and phrase of the Bible that was engraved in his mind, the product of countless wasted years.

Jimin raised a hand to his face, tracing each perfect curve of his newly manicured nails, scrutinizing them from every angle. He raised an eyebrow in anticipation, marveling at Hoseok’s handiwork.

He couldn’t wait to make another deal with the bastard later.

You noticed his attention was drifting and Jimin’s reverie was broken by a gentle tap on his shoulder, causing his thoughts to come crashing down around him like a house of cards. He turned to see your confused eyes peering up at him, your delicate lips murmuring a soft “pray”.

He couldn’t help but mentally roll his eyes. Oh, you were so annoying. He was going to make you pay for all the stress and frustration that he had to go through and endure because of you.

Jimin lowered his head and with a deep breath, closed his eyes, pretending as if he was lost in prayer, his mind far from it. Wandering anywhere but there.

As you finally turned back to offer your own prayers, he couldn’t resist and raised his eyes, glancing back at you.

And he was so fucked.

You were a sight to behold, more divine than the sacred paintings that adorned the walls of this church.

As your eyes drifted shut, your lashes like feathers of a sleeping bird, delicately brushed the curves of your eyes. The soft radiance of the lights danced upon your face, creating a tender veil of shadows that caressed your skin.

Your lips moved in silent devotion as you murmured in such sincerity, clutching the Holy Book tightly in your hands. And he swears, he could feel his dick twitch just at the sight.

You were so breakable, so vulnerable and so fucking beautiful.

Yeah, he was so fucked. So lost in you.

Park’s burning desires had been building to a crescendo in the last few days, a boiling point that seemed to threaten to engulf him whole. He felt like his longing for you was an aching fire that was on the verge of exploding. The mere sight of you at the church was a powerful trigger to him, fanning the flames for this fire.

And he thought it was ridiculous.

He couldn’t believe how he couldn’t control himself, his body yearning for yours, needing to stain the purity of your grace, to spread his sin all around your soul. To corrupt the sacredness of who you were with the foulness of who he had become.

He glanced around and took in the sights and sounds of the church, noticing that everyone was enraptured by the mass. Their focus was solely on the priest at the cathedral, their attention directed nowhere else.

With a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he slipped closer to you and your sweet scent filled his nostrils; making him feel intoxicated. He knew exactly what he had to do; a little play won’t hurt anyone.

Jimin’s touch was like a gentle caress of a summer breeze, soft and tender, caressing your skin like the lightest of kisses. Your eyes flicked open, searching for the source of such unexpected warmth.

And there he was, with his legs crossed, - his gaze fixed on you with such intensity that always made your cheeks warm for some reason – one arm resting comfortably on his elbow on the church pew, the other continuing to idly play with the soft fabric of your long skirt.

You never wore anything revealing; preferring modesty over anything else, however this time, you felt utterly exposed as his eyes roamed over your form like that. Jimin always enjoyed this, stripping away your layers one by one, revealing the true you that lay beneath.

Slowly he drew near, his aura spreading like a thick mist, wrapping around you. The scent of his cologne swirled around as his body pressed against yours, his knee gently nudging yours. His warm breath brushed against your cheeks, like the caress of a dead night.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Keep praying." You looked at his hand, still playing with your skirt, unsure of what to say. Jimin’s voice was calm and soft, yet, there was something about his dark eyes that made you feel uneasy. Like he was biding his time, planning his next move.

It clearly made you uncomfortable, but you were too naive to say anything, too afraid to speak your mind, not to mention that you were sure Jimin would never do anything wrong, so you turned back again and closed your eyes to pray.

But what you didn’t know was that you were already entangled by the snake’s coils; Jimin waited for the moment when you would break. He was so curious, so eager to see just how far you would go, how much you would endure before you finally stepped up and told him to stop.

Would you wrench his hand away? Would you yell at him? Would you make a scene in the middle of the church? He knew you wouldn’t, knew you were just too gentle and too timid to disrespect your favorite little church.

And so, he kept pushing, pushing your boundaries and invading your personal space, inch by inch, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in the wake of his touch.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying desperately to break free from his touch, but he only tightened his grip, making your heart race with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

"Jimin, can you please stop?" Oh, that was it. Your question was hardly above a whisper, as though afraid of you would be heard by those around you. The snake’s grip finally ensnared his delicate, little flower and he had no intention of stopping.

„Keep it down. You wouldn’t wanna disturb the praying souls now, would you?”

A devilish smirk played on his lips, eyes like black holes bearing down at you. His voice was like honey dripping from his lips; so soft and alluring. A stark contrast to the real meaning behind his words and actions. He continued to run his hand up your thigh, pushing your long skirt higher and higher until it was bunched around your waist.

"Jimin, st—" His other hand slithered around from the back of your neck, forcefully covering your mouth, silencing any words that wanted to escape your lips. Whatever you tried to say it came out muffled by his hand, leaving you feeling panicked and completely helpless.

You grasped at the material like a lifeline, desperate to pull it back down, but Jimin’s arm was like a steel barricade, preventing you from covering yourself. You felt trapped, your body burning with the shame of exposure.

"I said keep your mouth shut. We don’t want others to see you like this, do we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to escape as the fear of being discovered and shamed in front of everyone took over. All you could do was fix your gaze on Jimin’s intense, brooding eyes, silently pleading for mercy with your own desperate ones. Ah, so pretty for him.

As you gazed into the depths of his dark eyes, the windows to his no longer existing a soul, you revealed a darkness that engulfed you, and you knew there was no escape.

You were at his mercy, and he had none.

Jimin’s pupils dilated at the sight, your skin was soft and flawless, causing a shiver to run down his spine as he gently touched you. The delicate fabric of your white panties teased him, giving him just a glimpse of what was hidden underneath.

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he lazily played with the tiny, little, pink bow adorning the center of your panties. His actions were a clear taunt, a display of the control he had over you and your vulnerabilities.

It was clear you wanted to push him away, to scold him, yell at him, but he knew the fear of causing a scene in church held you back. You tried to glance around nervously, hoping no one would notice what was happening.

The world seemed to come to a standstill, the only thing that existed was the fast, thumping beat of your heart as Jimin’s hand slithered closer and closer to the place where it had no business being. You felt trapped, your body frozen, unable to break free as if you were held captive by a coiled serpent; its grip tightening with each struggle. The sound of your unsteady breaths filled the air, the only thing grounding you in reality, that, and the heat from his touch, because this serpent was crafted from the finest satin.

„Shh, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, keep praying so God won’t mind, yeah?”

His words made you paralyzed, like a spell, breaking you down. Words like those should never have left the lips of the kind and caring Jimin that you thought you knew. Your mind was reeling with shock and pain, struggling to make sense of how someone you had trusted completely could suddenly become a stranger. Jimin’s actions were like a knife to your heart, a stab that pierced through the trust you had placed in him.

With the grace of a feather dancing on skin, Jimin traced his fingers over your clothed clit, making you tremble beneath his touch. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your eyes widening as you felt the weight of the moment sinking in.

And he chuckled softly, a low rumble that only you could hear, taking your response as a cue, he increased the pressure. His skilled fingers now applied a firm yet tender touch, coaxing your body to new heights of pleasure, and your body tingled in response, betraying you by a throbbing ache that grew stronger with every touch.

As the ripples of pleasure swirled within you, you tried to pull back, to resist the sin that was happening in the very place where you sought solace and salvation. The guilt gnawed at your soul, the snake’s venom that seeped into every crevice, tainting the flower’s beauty.

And yet, Jimin reveled in your pain, basking in the darkness of your suffering as he watched the guilt consume you whole. The venom of your remorse was a feast for his senses; the holy wine, the sweetest elixir to be savored with every devious sip.

"Look, what do we have in here." He pressed his thumb against the dark spot on your panties, causing you to shiver. For him, the sensations of your wetness seeping through the fabric was like an euphoric rush, the sweet nectar of his delicate flower, intoxicating and irresistible.

Heat spread across your cheeks, horror and shame washing over you at his words, you shook your head, tried to move, tried to tell him to stop, but you found yourself lost in his eyes, searching for any sign of the person you once knew. But all you saw was darkness, a void that seemed to swallow you whole.

"Deny it if you want, baby, but aren’t you a nasty girl? You’re fucking soaking."

And it was true. Your body felt like it was betraying you, and you were mortified. He ignited a fire within you that you couldn’t deny. A soft cry slipped from your lips, but you couldn’t bear to face him, knowing that you were powerless in his grasp.

You were unable to believe what was happening. As someone who had always followed the Catholic faith and held its teachings in high regard, there you were, in this sacred place, allowing something so forbidden to take place.

But as his fingers slipped under the fabric of your panties, your mind went blank. The back of Jimin’s hand clung to your sticky panties as his fingers found their way down to your folds, the feeling making him shiver.

„Fuck— you’re so wet, can’t wait to feel you around me.”

You squeezed your lips together under Jimin’s hand to keep from making any noise, your eyes squeezed shut, tears threatened to spill down your cheeks as his wet fingers continued to rub and spread your folds apart, smearing your sticky arousal all over your cunt.

„Shh, this won’t make you a sinner baby, it’s okay. You won’t mind just one finger inside, yeah?” His middle finger probed at your entrance, teasing it, making it wetter still, as he slowly pushed in.

„Y-yeah baby— just one finger?” He teased and removed his finger, making you clench around thin air, and Jimin swears, the feeling made him twitch inside his pants. Teasing you – or himself, it didn’t matter anymore – he plunged back in, tauntingly slow.

Jimin’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his hard dick pressing firmly against his pants, yearning for release. To him this is how true Paradise felt like, the feeling of your silk walls wrapped around his digit.

He was about to lose it.

He bottomed his finger out inside you, knuckle deep, until his small 13 tattoo on his wrist met with your lower abdomen.

But he craved more. Fuck, how much he wanted to slam you against the pew and spread your thighs wide open, stretching your pretty little pussy right out with his dick. And who could blame him with the way your cunt gripped on his one single digit like that, dripping wet and sinfully warm.

But he couldn’t— not now. And it made him crazy.

You sank into the pew, your body trembling as he started to move his finger, his other hand still covering your mouth to keep you quiet. Every part of you was on fire, your mind and body in a constant battle between desire and shame. You were supposed to stop him, to push him away, but all you could manage was tremble and it made your eyes water.

It was a mixture of remorse and the burning desire pounding between your thighs; something you had never experienced before and something you knew you shouldn’t have felt at all in this holy place. And more likely you should’ve never clenched harder around Jimin’s finger when you heard the small shudder in each breath he took.

"Ahh baby—" The faint, breathy little whimper shattered his voice. "fuck.. you’re so perfect… so f-fucking perfect."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath shallow and ragged, mirroring the rhythm of his finger. With his warm breath tickling your ear, his whispered words were barely audible, but they still managed to send shivers down your spine.

"Ooh, h-how I wish to see this perfect fucking pussy."

Jimin couldn’t take his eyes off of you as he watched your face intently, committing every single feature and expression to his memory. The way your brows were furrowed in pleasure, the way you fought to keep your eyes open due to the sensitivity.

He couldn’t help but admire the way your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, the way you tried to stifle your moans under his hand, and the way your juices flowed from your aching cunt.

You were a captivating sight, sinful and alluring, flesh heated and glistening with arousal, and he knew you couldn’t deny it even though you tried. Your trembling body and the slickness on his fingers were evidence of the truth.

He slowly added a second finger, stretching you open further and moving faster, his fingers stroking your sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through you. With every stroke, you felt your body weakening, and your thoughts began to succumb to the corrupting pleasure.

Despite your protests, your body responded eagerly, arching towards him in a desperate plea for more; seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving you.

You never felt so conflicted in your entire life, your mind was a battlefield; torn between your beliefs and the undeniable pleasure that was now coursing through your veins. Every creak of the old wooden pews felt like a judgment, a cruel reminder that you were committing a sin that would send you to the depths of damnation.

But when Jimin serendipitously grazed your swollen clit with his thumb, your mind went blank. You’d lost it.

Your hips involuntarily jerked against his hand, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your cries of ecstasy at bay, but it was a dead effort as you squirmed and moaned, muffled by his hand covering your mouth.

"Fuck— Don’t moan like that, you’re getting too loud, keep quiet."

But you couldn’t. It was as if your head was spinning, unable to focus on anything except the pleasure. The way he slid his fingers in and out of you, his thumb perfectly stimulating your clit, it was too much.

Despite your efforts, you couldn’t contain the small moans that escaped your lips. The church was now just a blur in the background, the stained glass windows casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the floor.

"Shit, baby, keep fucking quiet or do you want me to slip those fucking panties off and stuff them in your mouth, hm?" Jimin’s whispered words sent shivers down your spine, making you clasp around his fingers right back in.

"Y-yeah, you want that baby? My nasty girl, s-so good... so fucking perfect." He moved his fingers faster, his thumb circling deliciously on your clit, building up the pace for your climax, your body crying out for release. And oh, how he reveled in it, savoring every moment, every sensation as his little flower finally opened its petals to him.

"You’re so close, baby, f-fuck— just let go, let me take you there."

As Jimin’s fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink, you couldn’t help but give in, feeling all the guilt and shame wash away in the face of the intense pleasure you were feeling.

„Ooh, fuck— Y-yeah, baby, go on. Come all over my fucking fingers.”

Just as you were about to reach the peak, a sudden thud broke through the lustful haze. Your tear-filled eyes fluttered open and you glanced up to the top of the church’s gallery, where you saw the organ player, Mr. Min sprawled on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, amidst a sea of fallen notes.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as your eyes met his, and you saw the shock and disbelief on his once serene face.

Your heart plummeted like a falling star, sinking into the depths of your stomach as you realized what you must look like to Mr. Min. Your cheeks burned with the heat of a thousand suns as you met his gaze, his face a canvas of flushed embarrassment, crushing you with shame and guilt.

For in the eyes of Mr. Min, you were no other, but a sinner caught in the act of sin in the house of the divine. And as the notes of the holy music lay scattered at his feet, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were a reflection of your shattered innocence.

Mr. Min quickly ascended the stairs to the organ, his emotions were in disarray, a tumultuous blend of arousal and embarrassment. With each step, he tried to push away the image of what he had just seen, but it lingered like a haunting melody in his mind.

His cheeks burned with shame, but he couldn’t help stealing a glance at you before he reached the top of the stairs, his feline eyes burning you whole.

Exposed and vulnerable, you were unable to look at the organ player in the eyes anymore. You closed your eyes tight in an attempt to block out the intensity of his gaze. But even with your eyes shut, you could feel his feline eyes looking down at you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the image, Jimin’s skillful fingers never faltered to move inside you, your body feeling like it was exploding. A soft whimper escaped your lips, which got silenced by his firm grasp.

With each second you felt yourself surrendering to the overwhelming ecstasy.

As you teetered on the edge, ready to fall into the abyss of pleasure, you were suddenly jolted back to reality, finding yourself next to Jimin who was kneeling humbly on the wooden pew of the church, praying.

With eyes wide open, heated cheeks and heavy breathing you gazed at your own clasped hands on the pew.

Was this all in your head? How could you have let your mind wander to sinful desires in the sacred walls of the church?

Jimin’s innocent devotion to his God only amplified your own guilt, making you feel like a fallen angel in the presence of his pure soul.

Jimin couldn’t help but smirk, he bit the inside of his cheek, but it didn’t help hiding it. He moved his clasped hands toward his mouth to hide the devilish smirk that appeared on his lips.

For he knew the power he held over you, the power to seduce and corrupt your very being. And with each passing day he was one step closer to claiming your body and soul for his own.

And as you sat there, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, Jimin continued to pray, his facade of innocence masking the devilish intentions that lurked within.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin scenarios #jimin smut #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #bts x reader #park jimin fanfic #btsfests #park jimin smut

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kingofbodyrolls · 4 months

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Stuck in a Snowstorm (m) | pjm

*Part of 'the winter collection'. Read part two. Part three coming soon!

Summary: You don’t know how you ended up here. Stuck with your mortal enemy, Park Jimin, in you car – in a fucking snowstorm.

Pairing: Jimin x female reader

AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut.

Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.

Word count: 6,1K

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings (general) + triggers: Jimin is just a mean jerk and reader is a brat 😂 Lots of banter, crack and anger towards each other.

Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial/delay, hair pulling, oral (female and male receiving), breasts and nipple play. Also, use of a tie 👀

Author’s note: This is actually a story that I planned to write all the way back in 2017 – better late than never, right? 😂 I had only made the plot with some outline, so I basically started from scrap. But it had been stuck in my mind since FOREVER and now I just miss Jimin a shit ton, so I made this. I hope you enjoy it! Also, it shouldn’t be taken too seriously, it’s just smut with minimal plot and don’t question the characters bad actions or some minor plot holes 😂 (Also, I did not proofread this, just because).

Also, merry Christmas / happy holidays – this is my gift to you wonderful people out there 💜

AND are you guys looking forward to Jimin’s ‘Closer than This’ tomorrow???? 💜

If you prefer to read on AO3 you can read it here 😀

“I can’t believe this…” in disbelief, you mutter, your voice tinged with uncertainty, while you desperately activate the windshield wiper, yearning for even a fleeting glimpse through the thick curtain of falling snow.

“I can,” Jimin declares from his spot beside you in the passenger seat. His playful critique follows swiftly, delivered with a pout and a firm voice, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “You're a terrible driver.”

“Am not!” you retort defiantly, your voice cutting through the air, even as your unwavering gaze remains fixed on the snowy expanse ahead.

A curtain of thick snow descends, veiling everything in an opaque white shroud. The road ahead is swallowed by the relentless onslaught, turning visibility into an elusive challenge.

Your hands clench the wheel with a vice-like grip, the strain evident as your knuckles whiten under the pressure. The tension in your entire body is so palpable that it hurts to fucking drive.

Exhaustion weighs on you heavily, a relentless burden, yet the realization hits that you're only halfway to your friends' Christmas party. Two more hours loom ahead, a daunting stretch of time spent in the company of Park Jimin, your sworn enemy.

The decision to share a car ride is a mystery even to yourself; perhaps it was a fleeting concern for the planet, a noble intention to save fuel by consolidating into one vehicle. Yet, as the journey unfolds, the real reasons behind your choice become an enigma.

Regret courses through you like a bitter undercurrent as you ponder the altruistic intentions behind considering the planet and the environment. The thought of advising Jimin to take his own car nags at you, a missed opportunity for a peaceful solo drive. In a self-cursing moment, you rue your own kindness.

“Let me drive; I’m a better driver than you anyway.” Jimin declares with casual confidence, his tone carrying an air of nonchalance.

“Fuck off, Jimin!” you hiss, frustration dripping from your words like venom.

You squint against the relentless assault of heavy snow, the world outside morphing into an indistinct blur as visibility dwindles.

Your pace is deliberate, a cautious dance with the road, but after several minutes, you relent, succumbing to the inevitable by slowing down even further.

“Fine!” you declare, seizing the steering wheel in a determined clench, bringing the car to an abrupt halt.

You pivot your gaze towards Jimin, the words cutting through the tension, “You fucking drive then.”

Shifting the car into park, you unclip your seatbelt with a determined click, swing the door open, and brave the biting embrace of the freezing snowstorm outside.

In synchronized movements, Jimin mirrors your actions, and together, you step out into the frigid air. The two of you converge outside, a silent agreement palpable in the crunch of snow beneath your feet, as you navigate around the car, preparing to swap seats.

“If you crash my car, I’ll kill you.” you menace, venom seeping through your words as you stride past him, positioning yourself in front of the vehicle.

He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, a smug satisfaction evident in his demeanor, relishing the fact that you've conceded to let him take the wheel.

Jimin confidently eases his plump figure into the driver's seat, and you avert your gaze (definitely not looking!). With a self-assured demeanor, he expertly adjusts the seat to accommodate his frame.

You attempt to thaw your chilled hands under the blast of hot air from the air conditioner, the sour mood hanging heavy around you as you settle into the passenger seat, donning a visible pout.

“Relax, I’m not gonna crash your precious car,” he teases, the playfulness evident in his voice, just before smoothly shifting the car into gear and forging ahead.

In response, a huff escapes your lips, arms instinctively crossing in a silent declaration of your lingering displeasure.

You surrender to a sense of ease as Jimin takes the wheel, his deliberate pace aligning with caution. It's a mutual understanding — in this snow-laden terrain, slow and steady becomes a shared creed for safety.

The once teasing atmosphere now gives way to palpable tension, the air thick with the weight of swirling snow that has intensified. Jimin, too, struggles visibly against the heavier onslaught, the challenge of navigating through the snow turning the car into a place of shared unease.

Your gaze fixates on Jimin, observing as his fingers clench the steering wheel with a tension mirroring your own, and his shoulders stiffen in sync. A chuckle escapes you, unexpectedly audible, as you notice the ironic similarity between his reaction and your earlier demeanor.

“What’s so funny?” Jimin spits, the tension reverberating unmistakably in his voice, each word a note in the symphony of strained emotions.

“Your driving,” you start to chuckle, the amusement laced with a hint of mischief.

“You're not exactly outclassing my skills,” you declare, sinking into the seat with a self-assured smirk, relishing the satisfaction of your own driving prowess.

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” he seethes, the words charged with anger, his gaze sharply turning towards you, locking onto your eyes.

Despite Jimin's cautious speed, the car subtly veers, casting doubt on whether you're still on the road or lost in the oblivion of the thick snow. The blinding white landscape offers no clarity, leaving you uncertain and immersed in a disorienting wintry haze.

“I can’t see fucking shit!” he exclaims, abruptly bringing the car to a halt and cutting the engine in an instant, plunging you both into an eerie silence amid the obscured surroundings.

Your gaze locks onto him, urgency etched across your face. “What are you doing? We've got Seokjin's Christmas party in less than an hour!” The frustration in your voice reverberates, a ticking clock amplifying the stakes of the impending deadline.

“It’s not safe to drive in this freaking snowstorm!” he bellows in response, frustration escalating in his voice, punctuated by the sharp flick of the hazard warning lights, signaling the urgency and danger of the situation.

“I just want to get there already. I'd rather not be stuck with you,” you seethe, teeth gritted, a visible huff escaping in a cloud of anger. The tension hangs heavy, fueled by the biting words that linger in the now frosty air.

“Like I'd willingly be stuck with your sour attitude,” he retorts, his gaze sweeping you from head to toe for some inscrutable reason. “I don't even like you,” he declares, the words loaded with an unspoken tension that hangs in the frosty air between you two.

You gape at him, the bitter truth resonating in the air—an unspoken agreement that neither of you harbors any liking for the other. The animosity between you has solidified into a hostile dynamic, despite the shared circle of friends that consistently throws you together, much to your enduring displeasure.

Jimin exudes an infuriating level of cockiness, ceaselessly pushing your buttons and expertly tapping into the art of annoyance until it feels like your nerves are unraveling at his mere presence.

You'd willingly brave the biting cold rather than endure the prospect of an unpredictable future confined with him inside the car. Fate seems to revel in mocking you, as the car rapidly succumbs to the encroaching chill, each passing minute intensifying the unwelcome cold that now permeates the confined space.

You clutch your arms tightly around your body, desperately running your hands up and down in a futile attempt to gather some warmth. A curse slips from your lips as you question your own sanity—why in the world did you take off your jacket for the drive? Now it's trapped in the damn trunk, and the thought of braving the freezing cold to retrieve it is utterly unappealing.

“Cold?” he chuckles, the sound carrying an edge of amusement that only amplifies the chill sinking into your bones.

You nod your head.

“Well, I’m not giving you my jacket,” he states matter-of-factly, cocooning himself in the evident warmth of his puffer jacket. Damn Park Jimin and his infuriating nonchalance, he's truly a master of being a jerk!

“Can't even manage a simple act of kindness,” you mutter with disdain, the words escaping in a sharp hiss, a low and almost grumbling tone, accompanied by a dismissive eye roll.

“What's that?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, relishing the snug warmth of his jacket while you shiver in the cold.

“Fuck you, Park!” you shout directly in his face, your words laced with frustration. Instead of a retort, he just chuckles, the sound taking on a manic edge that lingers in the frosty air, leaving an unsettling resonance to your heated exchange.

An indeterminate amount of time slips away, lost in the relentless snowfall that shows no sign of relenting. Frustration building, you reach for your phone and decide to text Seokjin, realizing that this damn snow isn't planning on letting up anytime soon.

You [15.42]: Stuck in a snowstorm with fucking Park Jimin. I don’t know when we’ll arrive 🙄

Jin [15.48]: Just stay safe 😂

Fuck Seokjin! You’re convinced that he’s somewhere enjoying a good laugh at your misfortune.

A surge of realization hits you like a bolt of inspiration—there's a blanket tucked away in the backseat. Swiftly moving up, you make your way to the center console.

“What’re you doing?” Jimin questions, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his eyebrow as you navigate over the center console, leaving him bewildered by your sudden, mysterious movements.

“There's a blanket back here,” you announce triumphantly, finally laying hands on the sought-after comfort. With a satisfying plop into the seat, you tug the blanket snugly over your cold body, a gesture that transforms the atmosphere within the car from chilly discomfort to a brief oasis of warmth.

After a few contemplative minutes, Jimin breaks the silence with a question that hangs in the air, “Mind if I join you?”

Your mouth falls agape, and your eyes widen in astonishment at his unexpected question. Collecting yourself, you respond with a hint of sarcasm, “You weren't keen on sharing your jacket with me. What makes you think I'd be willing to share my blanket with you?” The tension between you and Jimin escalates with each word, hanging palpably in the cold air.

Without a pause for your response, he defies the silence, navigating over the center console with the same determined crawl you had exhibited moments before. The unspoken tension between you both amplifies, turning the confined space into an arena of silent rivalry.

Seated beside you, he makes a grab for the blanket cocooning your shivering form. Resolute, you refuse to surrender it, your hands engaging in a tug of war with him.

“Share, you brat,” he hisses with a mix of irritation and amusement, his determination evident in the forceful tug at the blanket.

“No!” you hiss back defiantly, the word laced with a stubborn refusal as you hold your ground.

With a forceful yank, he wrenches the blanket from your grasp, and in the struggle, he ends up with it draped across his lap. The victorious outcome of the skirmish leaves a charged atmosphere between you and Jimin, the warmth of the blanket now a coveted prize in his possession.

A triumphant smirk plays on his lips as he envelops himself in the captured blanket. His eyes lock onto your moping expression before descending further, a mischievous gleam indicating that his victory goes beyond the simple conquest of the blanket.

“I can totally see your nipples,” he chuckles.

You glance down, and sure enough, your nipples stand out against the satin material of your dress. Swiftly, you react, pressing your hands over your breasts in a sudden move to conceal their visibility.

“Why the fuck are you look at my tits?” you yell at him, your frustration audible, but he merely chuckles in response.

“You must really be freezing, huh?” he observes, and you simply nod in agreement, a silent acknowledgment of the biting cold that permeates the confined space.

“I can warm you up,” he suggests with a playful wink, both eyes and eyebrows conspiring in unison. The underlying implication of his words hangs in the air, and you instantly grasp the nature of his playful proposition.

“I'm not that desperate, Park,” you scoff with a hint of disgust, the rejection laced with a prideful undertone. In response, he simply chuckles, finding amusement in your candid dismissal.

Following his suggestive remark, an electric charge seems to surge through the atmosphere in the car. Your mind involuntarily races, envisioning the prospect of warming up next to him, his hands tracing every contour of your body, his di—

Stop. You admonish yourself sternly, a mental command to cease the vivid thoughts involving him. He's your enemy, you remind yourself, emphasizing the intense dislike you harbor for Park Jimin. The internal conflict heightens, the struggle between attraction and animosity weaving a complex web within your mind.

His chuckle resonates beside you, a sound that grates on your nerves. Irritation mounts, and you sharply turn your head towards him, your annoyance evident in the flicker of your gaze.

“Need help?” he inquires, his gaze suddenly deepening, the darkness in his eyes unveiling a subtle intensity that lingers in the air.

“With what?” you spit back at him, the confusion evident in your tone.

“You're grinding against the seat,” he bluntly points out, his gaze fixed on your crotch. You glance down, discovering your unconscious movement against the fabric of the seat. A sudden realization dawns, and an expletive slips from your lips.

A wave of discomfort washes over you, an intense desire to squirm and disappear into the ground, engulfed by the embarrassment that now saturates the air. The profound sense of shame hangs heavy, making the moment so excruciatingly humiliating.

You inhale sharply, drawing in a breath that seems to shudder through you, and with a deliberate move, you roll your hips once more.

“No…” you murmur, the word escaping with a shaky uncertainty that even your own ears can detect.

Jimin scoots closer to you, the warmth radiating from his body sending sparks that seem to dance through yours.

He leans into you, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, and in a breathy whisper, he offers, “I can help you with that.”

His words alone send a jolt through your body, a sudden tightening that ignites a fiery sensation. Damn it. The internal conflict and desire entwine, creating a tumultuous storm within you in the presence of him. It's undeniable—your entire being yearns for the touch you never thought you'd crave.

His warm hand finds its way to your thigh, and a low moan escapes your lips at the contact. Fuck.

His hand ventures down to the hem of your dress, grabbing and pulling it back to expose more of your thighs. A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air embraces your newly exposed skin, and a hiss escapes your lips. However, the sensation is quickly replaced by a different kind of warmth as his hand cups your clothed core. A breathless expletive escapes your lips, leaving your mind in a blissful blank state.

Instantly, you feel the warmth of his hand intimately against you, and your head falls back against the seat involuntarily. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you respond to the touch, unable to resist rolling your hips into the sensation.

“You’re needy,” he breathes against your ear, the words carrying a provocative weight that reverberates through you.

His warm breath sends a cascade of shivers down your spine, clouding your thoughts in a haze of desire. The desire for release intensifies, eclipsing any reservations you may have about seeking it from your mortal enemy.

“Shut up and just touch me,” you utter in frustration, the words punctuated by the deliberate grind of your hips into his hand, a desperate quest for any kind of friction. You're acutely aware of the desperation seeping through your actions, but at this moment, you don’t give a fuck.

And touch you he does. His fingers begin to rub your clit over the fabric of your panties, and you don't hold back your moans.

Your hips gyrate, a rhythmic dance in pursuit of your impending orgasm. The sensation builds rapidly, a cascade of pleasure on the brink. The question lingers in your mind—why does your body respond so eagerly to his touch?

He tugs your panties to the side, his touch on your clit eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. The warmth of his fingers against your skin amplifies the sensation, and you're already soaked.

“You're so wet already,” he chuckles against your ear, his lips teasingly grazing your skin. The desire to retaliate surges within you, but then, with a sudden and deliberate movement, one of his fingers enters your pussy, stealing your breath away.

He skillfully fingers you with one finger, the motion of his wrist simultaneously stroking against your clit, creating a sensation that's nothing short of delicious. The desire for more intensifies, an insatiable craving building within you.

“More,” you breathe, your voice escaping chapped and laden with a raw, lustful edge.

Jimin adds one more digit, and you relish in the precision with which he finds your soft spot, hitting it perfectly.

“Are you gonna come on my fingers?” he whispers in your ear, the suggestive question sending an instant jolt through your body, a yearning for more.

A throaty moan escapes your lips as you willingly spread your legs wider, granting him more space.

He deftly introduces a third finger into you, and you feel yourself losing control, swept away by the overwhelming pleasure. It's already so good—how is he so skilled with his fingers?

The way he skillfully uses his fingers inside you while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his wrist propels you relentlessly toward the precipice of climax. The knot in your stomach tightens, and you're on the verge of that intoxicating release.

“Jimin, fuck. I'm gonna come soon,” you pant, the urgency in your voice underscored by the rhythmic grind of your pussy against his hand.

He accelerates the pace of his fingers inside you, bringing you to the brink, but just as your body teeters on the edge of release, he abruptly withdraws his fingers and hand altogether.

His fingers and hand vanish, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. The abrupt absence intensifies the frustration and desire you feel surge through your body. Fuck!

Your legs tremble beneath you, and a frustrated hiss escapes your lips as you pant for breath.

“You didn't want to share the blanket,” he spews, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your evident frustration.

You're on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger. The desperate desire for release compounds the emotional turmoil within you. The audacity of him! The frustration boils over, cementing Jimin as nothing short of a fucking jerk in your mind.

“I'm not letting you come unless you beg for it,” he adds in a smug voice, a smirk playing on his lips as he purposefully puts some distance between you.

You can't believe him. The brink of pleasure was within reach—just a few more rubs and you would have unraveled on his fingers. The yearning is palpable, a frustrating ache that intensifies with each passing moment.

You growl at him, caught in a heated internal debate about whether to plead with him or not.

Your pussy clenches around emptiness, a visceral reminder of your desperation.

“Please, Jimin. Please let me come,” you implore, locking eyes with him and turning your body toward him. The desperation in your gaze is palpable. Almost inadvertently, you press your chest closer, your stiff nipples drawing his gaze downward.

He licks his lips teasingly, a wicked glint in his eyes, before seizing your hips and drawing you irresistibly toward him. With a swift yet controlled motion, he manipulates your body, guiding you to lie on the seat. As you settle into the unexpected position, he chuckles at the genuine confusion etched across your face.

“Because you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and in a bold move, he shoves your dress up to your stomach. With swift precision, he snatches your panties, sliding them down your legs. “I'll give you what you want.”

He discards your panties with a deliberate flick, his focus unwavering as he plunges down to your throbbing pussy. There's no hesitation; he immediately delves into licking at your folds and clit with a hunger that matches your own.

Your body instinctively arches off the length of the seat, a wave of pleasure coursing through you. It feels unbelievably good. In the heat of the moment, your hands find his hair, fingers gripping and pulling at the strands, eliciting a guttural groan from him.

Your muscles tighten, and the echoes of the previous orgasm, forcefully ripped from you, return with an intensity that feels tenfold. Each breath is a furious pant as he continues to lap at your folds, the relentless pleasure building and intertwining with your gasps.

Then, with a skillful touch, he adds a finger to your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. Your senses heighten, and just as you succumb to the pleasure, he skillfully continues to ravish your entrance with his tongue.

“Jimin!” you scream his name, a raw and unrestrained cry escaping your lips as you reach the peak of ecstasy on his tongue. Your body tightens, toes curling, and you involuntarily hitch your heels against his legs. In the throes of pleasure, your vision blurs, and you fight for air.

He chuckles, a throaty sound that reverberates in the aftermath of your high. Not giving you a moment to fully come down, he skillfully inserts two of his fingers inside you, drawing a hiss from your lips at the touch—your body rendered oversensitive.

He extends his fingers, proudly displaying them, glistening with your intimate juices. A wicked glint in his eyes, he issues a command, “Clean them.”

You meet his gaze defiantly, a spark of challenge in your eyes, before obediently rising to carry out his command. Taking hold of his hand, you sensually draw his slick digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them like a provocative dance. Your eyes lock onto his, witnessing the raw desire in his gaze as you release his fingers with an audible ‘pop’.

“I hate you,” you declare, breathless, the words carrying a mixture of frustration and desire. His response is a low chuckle, his perceptive gaze catching the teasing glint in your eyes.

He leans back, a provocative smirk playing on his lips, and starts palming himself through his dress pants. Your eyes involuntarily follow the movement of his hands, and a jolt of desire courses through you as you realize he's already rock hard. The unmistakable bulge strains against his pants, a visual testament to the arousal simmering between you two.

“I can help you with that,” you purr, a sultry promise lingering in your eyes, eager to reciprocate the pleasure.

He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and smoothly turns his body to fully face you. With a teasing smirk, he unzips his pants, skillfully pulling down both his trousers and underwear enough to liberate his hardened dick.

His cock springs free, defiantly brushing against the bottom of his loosened tie, a sight that's undeniably tantalizing. Perfectly sculpted, it's veiny and slightly flushed at the tip, mirroring the allure of every inch of him. A surge of conflicting emotions overwhelms you – the hate, the desire, the acknowledgment of his undeniable appeal. You despise how effortlessly good-looking he is, from the tousled blonde locks to those lips you now crave to taste.

However, your gaze returns to his dick, noting its average size but with a satisfying girth that catches your attention. A subtle hint of anticipation flickers in your eyes, and your tongue instinctively darts out to moisten your lips.

“Then get to work,” he pants, a breathy command, as he sensually spreads his legs, creating an inviting space for you.

You descend eagerly, ensuring your mouth is generously coated with saliva before you engulf him, starting with just the tip.

He hisses the moment your lips meet his dick, his head instinctively colliding with the window behind him, an involuntary exclamation escaping, “Ah, fuck.”

You engulf more of him, your mouth descending entirely, and the sound of his primal moan reverberates in response. You add a sultry hum, a note of satisfaction coursing through you.

You initiate a slow, deliberate pace, skillfully sucking him off, and anything beyond your mouth's capacity, you sensually stroke with your hand.

His hands seek out your hair, effortlessly capturing the neatly arranged high ponytail that he grasps with a possessive confidence.

You revel in the subtle tension, accelerating your descent on him with a newfound urgency. Your tongue skillfully traces intricate patterns, dancing across his tip and the sensitive folds of his frenulum.

He moans in ecstasy as you withdraw with a satisfying ‘pop,’ only to treat the head of his throbbing dick like a tempting lollipop, your tongue swirling around it with deliberate sensuality.

As you glance up at him, he appears utterly lost in the moment. His eyes, once vibrant, are now dilated orbs of desire, his parted lips releasing audible breaths. The state of bliss enveloping him transforms his features into a breathtaking display of vulnerability and beauty.

You envelop him once more, relishing the subtle tremor that courses through him, a tangible response to the sensations you're skillfully orchestrating with your lips and tongue.

He yanks you away from him, his voice a raw whisper laden with desire, “I want to fuck you.”

You prop yourself up, captivated by the transformation before you. The usual arrogant Park Jimin is replaced by this vulnerable, needy version, and against your better judgment, a desperate craving for him builds inside you. You ache for him to consume you entirely.

A mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you echo his earlier taunts, “Beg for it,” you challenge, aware of the palpable tension between you, a shared desire pulsating in the charged air.

A low, throaty chuckle escapes him as his fingers glide through the tousled strands of his blonde hair, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re really a fucking brat,” he hisses, a smirk playing on his lips.

He sits up, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he sheds his open jacket, the confined warmth of the car now turning uncomfortably sweltering. You can't help but acknowledge the irony; at least you're not freezing anymore, which, after all, was the primary objective of this unexpected detour, wasn't it?

“Please let me fuck you,” his plea hangs in the air, a desperate echo of your own request, and you can't help but chuckle, slowly crawling closer to him.

“Turn around, let me straddle you. Leaning against the headrest will give us more space,” you suggest, and he shifts in an instant, his arousal evident in the casual sway of his dick with each movement.

Then you confidently straddle him, your hand instinctively reaching for his dick, guiding him to align perfectly with your eager entrance.

Before you lower yourself onto him, you sensually trail his dick through your wetness, relishing in the intimate friction. A moan escapes your lips as you then descend onto his lap in one smooth, sultry motion.

The exquisite stretch sends a shiver down your spine, and he effortlessly glides in, eliciting a breathless ‘Fuck!’ from your lips.

As your hands find their place on his shoulders for support, his eyes, now hooded, follow your every movement as you begin to ride him with a rhythm that echoes the passion pulsing between you.

You pant furiously, your breath hot against his face. The sensation of him inside you is nothing short of heavenly, an electrifying connection that feels as if every contour of him aligns perfectly with every curve of your pussy.

“Ah,” ecstasy courses through you with each fervent bounce on his throbbing length, a harmonious rhythm of pleasure escaping your lips in breathless gasps.

“You’re so tight,” his ragged breaths synchronize with the rhythmic clench of your walls, his hands anchoring to your hips, adding an electrifying intensity to each blissful plunge into your velvet warmth.

Between gasps, you manage to growl, “Fuck. I hate you,” only to be met with his deep, throaty chuckle as he continues the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, each one a tumultuous clash of conflicting desires.

Amidst heavy breaths, he accuses, “I know you're lying,” his words punctuated by the rhythmic tempo of his panting. Undeterred, he leans in for a searing kiss, his lips caressing yours with a softness akin to pillows. Your defenses crumble as you melt into his touch, tongues colliding in a fervent dance that defies the lingering tension.

“Why is it that you feel so damn good?” you gasp, interrupting the kiss only to plunge back into its intoxicating depths. Each moment spent in his embrace feels like a surrender to a passionate whirlwind. His every thrust reverberates through you, sending electrifying shivers down your spine, an exquisite dance of pleasure and desire that you find impossible to resist.

“Perhaps I should prolong your climax, just as you did to me?” you purr with a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, resurrecting the playful brat within you.

He chuckles, his hands leaving the curve of your hips to gracefully undo his tie at his neck. Your gaze fixates on him, observing each deliberate move as he frees himself from the constriction of the tie, all while you continue to ride him with an unabashed hunger.

“You really are a fucking brat,” he mutters, the corners of his lips quirking into a sly smile as he pulls off his tie. “Now, shut up,” he commands, silencing any potential retorts by expertly stuffing the tie into your open, protesting mouth.

You yield to the makeshift gag, sinking your teeth into the fabric, muffling the symphony of your own desperate moans.

A smirk plays on his lips as his hands reclaim your hips, commanding, “Now take it like the fucking brat that you are.”

His movements become a relentless rhythm, thrusting deep inside you. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, swept away by the force of his desire.

Ecstasy courses through you, and you can't help but moan into the fabric of his tie. It feels too damn good to contain.

His voice drips with satisfaction as he senses your walls tightening around him, and a smug grin plays on his lips. “You like that, huh?”

A guttural moan escapes your lips in response, the crescendo of pleasure building, and you sense the impending climax drawing near.

“Fuck yourself on my dick,” his command hangs in the air, thick with desire, as his hands abandon your hips, embarking on a journey down your back. With a swift motion, he unzips your dress, letting it cascade down your shoulders.

Your naked breasts dances to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, an erotic ballet of passion and desire.

“Fuck. You’re not wearing a bra, just like I thought,” his eyes widen in delighted surprise, a devilish grin playing on his lips. His hands eagerly exploring the contours of your exposed tits.

His words hang in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. “Your tits are beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns around your stiffened nipples. Your body reacts instinctively, a primal moan escaping through the tie as desire courses through you.

Every grind and movement becomes a challenge as he expertly tweaks and pulls at your nipples, sending waves of pleasure and distraction through your body. You fight to maintain a rhythm, desperately trying to pleasure yourself on his dick amidst the electrifying sensations dancing across your chest.

As your walls clench around him, a whirlwind of sensations floods your body, signaling that the peak of pleasure is just a breath away. Every nerve is on edge, and the anticipation of an imminent climax tingles through you, a storm about to erupt.

As he skillfully massages your tits, he breathlessly teases, “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” his words send shivers down your spine, intensifying the pleasure that's building within you.

With a fervent nod, you surrender to the sensations, your muffled moans echoing through the tie as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.

As he plunges into you, he urges you with a guttural command, “Cream my cock, brat.” The raw desire in his voice fuels the intensity of your connection, igniting a blaze of passion.

Overwhelmed by desire, his dick finding every exquisite spot within you, you unleash a guttural moan, your pleasure echoing into the fabric of the tie as you climax on his pulsating cock.

Jimin's fingers twist around your hardened nipples, sending electric shocks of ecstasy through your body. A guttural exclamation escapes your lips, muffled by the tie, as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.

He pounds into you relentlessly, the rhythm building towards an intense climax. His hands firmly grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he desperately seeks his own release.

He reaches the peak of ecstasy, his body shuddering with the force of his release as he spills into the warmth of your pussy.

Heaving for breath, the silence between you two speaks volumes, a shared understanding lingering in the air as you descend from the euphoric heights of your climaxes.

Collapsing onto his chest, you revel in the soothing aftermath, liberated from the restraint of his tie. As his body relaxes within you, the intimacy lingers, a tangible connection forged in the heat of passion.

His lips graze your neck with a gentle touch, igniting a cascade of thoughts about the significance behind this tender gesture.

As laughter fills the air, shattering the lingering tension, your attention shifts to the foggy windows and the oppressive heaviness in the car, making each breath a deliberate act.

As you hastily redress, Jimin slips into his jacket and steps out of the car, retrieving your coat from the trunk. With a gentle handoff, he passes it to you, and you quickly slip into its comforting warmth.

“Thank you,” your gratitude escapes in a hushed whisper, laden with a touch of bewilderment. The encounter, while undeniably electrifying, leaves you grappling with conflicting emotions. It's Park Jimin, your sworn adversary, and the intensity of the shared moment hangs between you, a paradox of pleasure and rivalry.

“You’re welcome,” his response carries a self-assured smirk, echoing the lingering traces of the shared intimacy. As he confidently returns to the driver's seat, you mirror his actions, settling into the passenger's seat, both enveloped in a charged silence that speaks volumes.

The snowfall has eased, no longer as relentless as before. A subtle nostalgia creeps in as you reflect on his desire to keep you warm. The gentle flakes now fall, leaving you yearning for the lingering warmth of his touch.

As he revs the engine to life, a gust of chilly air sweeps through the car, causing you to emit an involuntary grunt. His chuckle fills the cabin, accompanied by a smirk and a teasing wink. “I can warm you up anytime,”

You shoot him a moping gaze, wondering if he has a knack for deciphering your thoughts. Can he sense the magnetic pull, the unspoken attraction that mirrors your own inner turmoil?

You return his smile, a silent agreement resonating between you as he steers the car forward, setting the wheels and unspoken possibilities in motion.

Three hours fashionably late, you finally arrive at Seokjin's Christmas party. The distant hum of music greets you as you step out of the car, signaling that the celebration is already in full swing.

As you rap your knuckles against the door, you steal a glance at Jimin who's busy adjusting his attire. His fingers deftly tighten the knot of his tie, and his pants get a quick, inconspicuous tug into place.

As Seokjin swings the door open, a tantalizing waft of mouthwatering aromas envelops your senses, instantly sparking a smile on your face.

Seokjin's laughter echoes as he playfully accuses, “You fucked Jimin!” and your jaw drops in disbelief to the floor.

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alexlwrites · 2 months

Text

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7 x Plus Size! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?"

The one where seven campus princes who are used to getting everything they wanted get enchanted by your distrust and brattiness, climbing over each other to get a smile from you who could not be bothered to give them a single second of your day.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I wanna leave this here as sort of a trigger warning: this work features a plus size main character and throughout the story there will be mean comments from characters about her body and her journey dealing with said comments. A lot of it comes from my own experience as a plus size girl myself and my path to living peacefully within my body. And although this work is about Y/N's relationship with the boys, I like to think that she still would've continued to grow and blossom happily on her own. Let this be something you learn from this fic, as I say right on the first chapter: You don't have to love the way you look right away, you just can't let it stop you from doing the things you want and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

Thank you for reading <3

P.S: Red daisies, like many red flowers, represent love and romance. Florists often use them to communicate affection to someone who doesn’t know how beautiful they are—a.k.a. beauty unknown to the possessor.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

The pattern in your relationships - if you could call them that - was tiring, to say the least. Once, they might have been soul crushing, but time and repetition took away the novelty of your pain and now the endgame was a mild, resented disappointment.

It started with kindness and a gentle smile, mainly from your part. You treated anyone who gave you any smidgen of attention with the utmost sweetness, hoping your energy would be matched. And sometimes it was, for a while. Sometimes you got to be on the receiving end of a blinding smile or a casual touch and you allowed yourself to hope - no, pray -that that could be it. That someone, some modern day knight in shiny armor , saw through your looks and decided that you were deserving of love, despite societal norms,

But men had a way of setting you up for disappointment. A talent, truly.

You were tired, you decided that night. No, beyond that, you were exhausted, scarred, bitter, hopeless, resentful… You could keep going. You could list every bad feeling you had been carrying in your chest by alphabetical order or by how badly they hurt and honestly you just wanted it to stop.

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy, you wondered watching the boy you had been seeing for a few weeks make fun of you in front of his circle of friends at the party you were both at. Would you never be allowed to be happy just the way you were?

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy?

“Yeah, she’s nice” Junsuu said, winking suggestively at his giggling friends “if you know what I mean.” you felt your face heat up in humiliation at the renewed round of laughter “But we just don’t match, like, physically. You know, looks-wise.”

“Right” someone agreed way too enthusiastically, sending a spear through your heart “I really just can’t see you with someone like her.”

What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?

“You’re right” you said out loud, drawing attention to yourself. Filled with hatred (for him, the world, the circumstances), your heart had no room to be mortified when all eyes turned to you “we don’t match.”

You watched as Junsuu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to hear, much less reply “I am a big girl” you continued, words dripping with rage “And I know for a fact that there’s nothing big about you.”

You turned around to leave the room, cringing at the petty comeback, ignoring the murmurs and Junsuu’s panicked calls of your name. Walking fast, you fled the scene of the last heartbreak you would allow yourself to go through, deciding that a change was needed, but not the change everyone wanted from you.

Despite the rumors, you didn’t turn into a huge bitch overnight, didn’t start kicking puppies or spitting on the poor. Truly, the only thing you did was establish boundaries and reevaluate the amount of respect some people deserved, but very quickly people started seeing you as some sort of villain, especially when they realized how little you cared for how they saw you. How disrespectful of you to not allow yourself to be disrespected, right?

At first, there was still an air of uncertainty about you - years and years of non-reciprocal niceties drilled into your brain, habits hard to quit. But the more you let go of those things, these tiny acts of self-aggression disguised as pleasantries and altruism, the lighter you felt; Your days became easier to get through, existing within your body felt less and less like a punishment. You had yet to reach an Instagram-worthy level of body positivity, but you had become accustomed to body neutrality. You didn’t have to love the way you looked right away, you just couldn’t let it stop you from doing the things you wanted and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

And respect you started to demand and much happier you became, living in relative peace and solitude - safe by a few close friends - up until your days started being pestered by seven headaches you could not seem to shake away.

—-

Jungkook was the one that saw you first.

It was 3 weeks into the semester and he finally decided it was the perfect time to start going to classes, sitting in the back and only listening to about 25% of what was being said, mind floating towards more important subjects such as the package of ramen waiting for him at home. Only mildly interested in what the professor had to teach, he couldn’t help but to be startled when everyone started getting up from their seats to shuffle around the room. “What’s going on?” he asked the guy sitting next to him.

“Professor gave us a duo assignment.” the other man said, standing up “You're with Y/N.”

“Who?”

The guy just pointed towards you with his chin, redirecting Jungkook’s attention before leaving. You were sitting a couple rows further down, hunched over your little green IPad as you wrote something with impressive velocity. Jungkook walked over to you, already mentally going over what he would have to do to charm you into doing everything on your own “Y/N?” he called and you raised your head.

You were pretty, he noticed with satisfaction, all bright eyes and lovely features, curves everywhere he looked “Yes?”

“I’m Jungkook.” he extended his hand with a casual smirk “The professor put us together for this project.”

There had been a small, but pleasant and polite smile on your face up until he said those words, replaced by pursed lips and an arched brow. “Yes, I know. We’ve had classes together for over a year now and been partnered together before.”

Uh oh. “Right” he coughed awkwardly, fumbling under your hardened stare “so, about this project…”

“We will meet once a week,” you said, straightforward as you turned your eyes back to your sticker-filled IPad “I will go over the theme and split the work evenly, so give me your number and I can text you with what you’re supposed to do.”

“Woah, woah, asking for my number already?” he said in a flirting manner, sitting on top of your table so he could be directly in front of you.

“Would you prefer it if I emailed it to you?” you asked without looking up.

“Actually, I was thinking you could help me out a bit,” he placed his finger under your chin, raising your face towards him “you know I have soccer practice and…”

You pushed his hand away “Unless you’re playing at the World Cup, I can’t see how that would be more important than your studies, so you either do your part of the assignment or get an F in it, I don’t care. I won’t do all the work for you, Jeon. Not again.”

Again? Jungkook winced, trying to remember when you had met before. Surely he would remember getting his head bitten off by a snappy, pretty thing like you, wouldn’t he? Surely your attitude would stand out to him amongst all the sweetness and compliance he received just for existing and smiling.

“Here’s my number.” you gave him a piece of paper with your digits written in gel sparkly ink “Text me when you decide if you want to pass this class. Good day.”

You looked down again, going back to your notes, signing that the conversation was over before he even had the chance to add anything more. He jumped off the desk and stepped away, looking back to see if you were looking at him, but there wasn’t a single glance from your part.

Shit. Shit. He actually did have to pass this class, otherwise his overbearing soccer coach would kick him off the team. He stared down at your number, wondering what he would have to do to get you to cut him a little slack and forgive him for absolutely forgetting about your existence.

—

“Hey, this is Jungkook” the text from an unknown number said “looking forward to us working together. We should get dinner sometime, get to know each other better.”

You read over the text once more, willing your heart to slow down its beating. Sure, Jungkook was charming and handsome, but you had seen this dance before. He would talk his way into your good graces, making you laugh and giggle until you had a four thousand word essay done with both your names in it and your texts to him would go unanswered and unseen.

This was not your first hurtful rodeo. You put your phone away, facing down, ignoring as the poor device vibrated itself off the table with the upcoming texts.

Meanwhile, across campus, Jungkook was fuming.

“Or breakfast. We should get breakfast. I know a great place.” he tried once again, but his message was left unread. Still, he persisted.

“I have a lot of great ideas for this assignment. Don’t you want to know them?” he texted, even though he didn’t have the faintest idea on what the assignment was even about.

“You know, it’s rude to leave a guy hanging.”

“How can we do this if you won’t even text me back?”

“I thought we were in this together.”

“You know, like High School Musical.”

He kept typing out absurdity after absurdity, hoping you would dignify one with an answer. He just needed one opportunity, one opening…

His text stopped going through.

“She blocked me!” he gasped out loud.

“Who?” his roommate, Taehyung asked from where he laid on their couch, feet up on the coffee table.

“This girl in my class. We have this project together and she blocked me!”

Taehyung sent a disbelieving look his way “Were you actually planning to do the work?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously not.”

His friend rolled his eyes “Obviously not. So what’s your plan here?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, too busy looking for alternative ways to contact you. After a few minutes of research, he found your Instagram. You were cute, he noticed again, scrolling through your few posts, all relatively recent. You had a very specific style, a tasteful mix or dark and edgy with splashes of pink and bows, tight corsets under leather jackets that he couldn’t help but stare appreciatively, the flattering material clinging to your waist line and pushing your breasts up, exposing the soft freckled top of cleavage to his always hungry eyes. In your pictures, your eyes shone brightly, crinkling at the sides from your ever present smile and he could not understand why you hadn’t directed one of those to him.

It was unsettling, to say the least, but he could not allow his annoyance to take over. He needed your help if he wanted to pass that class and if he had to use unconventional ways to get your attention, he would.

And so, much like a little boy pulling at a girl’s braids, he started liking and spamming the comments of every single post you had.

—

There were whispers all around you, your worst nightmare.

You were at the school library, getting work done while drinking from your fourth cup of coffee, hands shaking due to caffeine and anxiety, your ever present friends. You tried to focus on your books and carefully written notes, but every word you could barely hear and every look you felt over your shoulder seemed to dig claws into your skin. You knew what they were saying. You heard it all the way from your dorm to your classes and couldn’t seem to escape them.

“Did you see Jungkook’s comments on her pictures? What’s that about?”

“It’s not like there’s a lot to comment, is there?”

“Maybe he thought it was someone else?”

“It’s probably a prank.”

“I bet he was hacked.”

Of course, why else would someone like Jungkook - a campus prince, popular soccer player, heartthrob - show interest in you?

It hurt, but a small part of you still agreed with those mean spirited whispers. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing and will those thoughts away. You knew better, had learned better than to measure your value by how interested some boy was in you.

When you opened your eyes again, Jungkook was in front of you.

You barely had time to process his presence when the voices picked up volume, your skin prickling and eyes aching to remain dry.

“What’s Jungkook doing with Fat Y/N?”

That word shouldn’t be as hurtful as it was - after all, it was just an adjective, just the current state of your body that served only to carry your thinking mind, your feeling heart. But people always said it like a curse, wielding it like a sword.

You closed your eyes again and when you opened once more, Jungkook was still there. Looking furious.

“What are they saying?”

“What they always said” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes by looking down at your papers.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while, hearing people pretend to whisper around you but it was clear that the motherfuckers wanted you to hear. Was it always like this for you, he wondered, watching as you focused on whatever book you had in front of you, hunched over with tense shoulders, your face a far cry from the luminescent one he saw on your Instagram, not a hint of that smile he wanted directed at him so unreasonably.

He couldn’t just stand there and watch you struggle to keep your posture.

You felt him standing up and leaving more than you saw him. Good, you thought. He should leave, like everyone did, scared away by that one word that followed you around like a brand. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with you, you assumed bitterly, and there was no place in your life for people who didn’t want you proudly by your side…

Jungkook sat back in the chair in front of you and you couldn’t help but gape at the impressive bouquet of red daisies he extended towards you.

“Take it” he said, but you couldn’t move, could barely hear the furious voices around you over the roaring beat of your heart.

You… You had never gotten flowers.

“Take it” he repeated “I almost got run over because of this, the least you can do is accept it.”

“Jungkook” you whispered, dumbfoundedly accepting the bouquet “what’s this?”

“People keep doubting I could be interested in you” he said and there was an edge to his tone you did not expect “maybe this could help clear up some rumors.”

“This is not your battle to fight” you held the flowers close to your chest carefully, looking up at him with distrust, unable to understand his motives “I’m used to this sort of thing and I don’t care about those stupid rumors.”

You were used to it? That just made Jungkook angrier. How could you be used to that sort of treatment?

Jungkook was a lot of things - spoiled, a little lazy, sometimes a dick. But he wasn’t a bigot and he wasn’t about to stand around and let you become used to being disrespected if there was something - anything! - he could do about it “I like picking up fights”.

“Is this just pity?” you asked and he could see walls around you that stood thousands of feet tall “Is this because of that stupid assignment? Because I’m not going to do all the work just because you got me some flowers…”

He raised his hands and smiled at you “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do my work” he said, a new goal in mind as he saw you recoil from him with eyes filled with wariness like a suspicious kitten “You said once a week, right? How’s friday for you?”

You still clung to your bouquet like a lifeline “That works, I guess.”

“Great!” he clapped loudly, standing up and catching the eye of those around him “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart” you mumbled, but he pretended not to hear as he crossed the table around to your side, quickly leaving a kiss to your heated cheek before you had the chance to react.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you around” he said, making sure everyone in the library could hear him “do me a favor and unblock me, ok?”

You flipped him off, both for stealing a kiss and that stupid nickname, but he just laughed it off.

“That’s my girl” he said and the library erupted in renewed whispers.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

°•. ✿ .•°

[Red Daisies taglist: @purplelady85 ]

[Permanent taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ; @betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ; @chimchimmarie ; @anaya123world ; @junecat18 ; @kayleefriedchicken ; @jkselcouth ; @ivrose21 ; @svnbangtansworld ]

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts #jungkook x reader #alexl red daisies #ot7 x reader #ot7 x you #bts x y/n #kim taehyung x reader #park jimin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #jung hoseok x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim seokjin x reader #ot7 fluff #bts romance #bts college au

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lovecoree · 2 months

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DADDY’S HOME. P. JIMIN !

pairing: military bf!jimin x black gf!reader

synopsis: imagine military boyfriend Jimin finally coming back home, oh all the emotions you’ll be feeling !

warning: contains smut and fluff , kissing , unprotected sex ( don’t do this ) , creampie , praising , both of y’all are touched starved ( y’all miss each other so much ) , reader is black coded , reader uses she/her prns. Let me know if I missed anything !

a/n: missing Jimin hours ☹️

SFW !

you couldn’t help but squeal with excitement as you hear the front gates open at the military entrance. Countless of men coming out with relief or happiness as they see their partner, family, or friends— you would’ve thought they just got released from prison, but you weren’t looking at them, you were looking at your boyfriend Jimin who came out last with his army duffel bag on his shoulder. “Babe!” You shouted, causing Jimin to turn his head in your direction, his stoic face turning into a bright smile seeing you running towards him.

“You missed me that much?” Jimin laughed as he picked you up off your feet as you bear hug him. “Of course I missed you.” You planted so many kisses on his face, taking in his scent and his look. He finally put you down, raising an eyebrow as you gawk at him. “What, do I look bad?” “No no, god no! You look…” your words fell short as you stared at him in awe.

His hair was growing back a little more, the short hair style really suited him, muscles definitely got bigger and let’s talk about the outfit choice. Black compression shirt with grey sweatpants and a simple silver chain on his neck that you gifted him before he left.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer.” You smacked your teeth as you looked at Jimin again before playfully rolling your eyes. “Whatever.” Smiling from ear to ear, placing your hand in his, walking back to your car to grab something to eat and go home.

“I really missed you.” Jimin whispered kissing you on the lips before letting you drive off.

NSFW !

best believe Jimin is going crazy as soon as the sexual tension rises. Jimin wasn’t the only one touched starved for a year, you were going through it. No amount of sex toys or pre recorded voice messages could help you. Your craving grew stronger the moment you found out Jimin would be released today.

Perfectly sprawled out on the bed, back arching causing your chest to touch his as you moaned from the intense pleasure. He had to fuck you in missionary, he just had to. He missed the sight of your pretty face crying from pleasure as he feed you deep strokes. “You look so beautiful baby.” Jimin bit his bottom lip loving the way you clenched around his cock.

Gripping your love handles so tight that the pain was mixing with your pleasure, pulling him closer by the neck to kiss him deeply, god did y’all miss each other so much.

Bed creaking and skin slapping loud and clear in your room. “I love you so much Jimin.” You cried feeling closer than ever. Jimin lived for your whines, flipping you over on your stomach just to release another whine out of you.

“Yeah?” Jimin teases your hole by just putting his pink tip in that glisten with your essence. The whine you let slip past your mouth was so pornographic had Jimin’s eyes rolling in the back of his skull. “mhmm— missed you so much minie.” Wiggling your ass, Jimin hiss at the sound of your soaking pussy making squelching noises.

Mouth going wide as Jimin finally bottom inside of you. “Fuuck yes.” You moaned out, mind going blank as your ass clapped back against his pelvis. Jimin letting out a groan at the sight of your cum and his forming a ring around the base of his cock.

“Messy ass pussy.” Jimin mumbled to himself as he grippped your hips, fucking you into the mattress. “One year, one year of not being inside my pretty baby.” Jimin rambles on and on about wanting to be so close to you, and honestly, you can say the same— well not at this moment since your boyfriend is literally fucking you into oblivion.

“I’m— Fuuck, I’m so close.” You whined out, gripping the sheets tight and moaning at the feeling of your arousal dripping down your soft thighs. “Me too pretty, gonna cum f’me?” You could feel Jimin’s cock twitch inside of you, moving your hand behind you to have him closer, Jimin smiled at the action as he moved his hand off your hip and interlocking it with yours. “I’m not going anywhere baby, don’t worry.” Jimin eyes rolled back as you squeezed around him so tight.

Jimin used his free hand to move to your center and rubbed your sensitive bud causing you to jolt from the sudden attention. “Let it out pretty, you deserve it..been waiting so long.” Your head was spinning, thighs shaking intensely as you came around his cock.

“Such a good girl.” Jimin groaned leaning down to pamper you in kisses, hips stuttering slightly as he felt close to his release. Using both of his hands to steady your hips as he came inside of you. So much cum entering you that some of it leaked out of you and onto the bed.

Jimin felt his body shiver as he moaned at the sight of his cum and yours creating such a mess as he pulled out slowly. A lewd pop sound as his tip pulled out. “Fuck.” Jimin looked up to see you ready to fall asleep. Lipgloss smudged on the pillow, edges sweated out, legs shaking, and a thin layer of sweat covering your body from the aftermath. Besides all that, you still looked beautiful in his eyes, planting a kiss on your shoulder before he got off the bed, still naked as he walked into the bathroom.

Aftercare is definitely a 10/10. He came back with a warm rag to clean you up and carried you to the bathroom so you could pee. You watched him run the bath water and added body wash to create bubbles. He looked at you with a smile. “You done.” Voice so sweet and caring, you nodded your head yes before wiping yourself clean and slowly stood up and flushed the toilet. Jimin held your hand and helped you into the tub.

He got in after you, getting behind you so you could rest your back on his chest comfortably. “This feels nice.” You smiled letting the soapy water cover your body. “It does.” Jimin mumbled as he moved his hands under water to caress your stomach until he reached your breast to massage them. You hummed as you closed your eyes leaning even more into him.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered, Jimin grinned as he looked at you. “Don’t worry, daddy’s home now.”

Laughing at him you opened your eyes to see him smiling as well. “Omg Jimin.”

#bts x reader #black fem reader #black reader #bts x black girl #fluff #black reader smut #black female oc #park jimin #park jimin x reader #jimin x black reader #bts x poc #bts x black reader #bts jimin #jiminie #bts smut

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 9 months

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Asking best friend!BTS for a divorce

Warnings : mentions of divorce, gender neutral but mentions of having kids

A/N : I'm still in the process of moving but I had this in my drafts and figured I'd post it ! Starting in August I will be posting fake texts again, so look out for more coming your way soon 💕 Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoyed 🥰

@comingupwithacoolnameishard @lethallyprotected @eastleighsblog @abbiestearsricochet @berryblog @th3melthatfell @weird-bookworm @dreamingaboutjisung @the-lemon-boy @nfrgirl @choisoorin @minhoino @retromalum @junebug032 @alyszaen @felixmainacc @dinonuguaegi

#bts imagine #bts x reader #bts au #bts smau #bts fake texts #bts #kim seokjin x reader #min yoongi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #kim namjoon x reader #park jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

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btsugarush · 4 months

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I’d Hate To Say it | pjm (m.list)

❝i needed you and you fuckin’ left me.❞

summary: when you return home from studying abroad, you come to find your former best friend, jimin, has made drastic changes to his life that could put him in danger or behind bars forever.

pairings: drug dealer!jimin x f!reader.

warnings: smut, violence, fluff, blood and gore, ex best friend!jimin, gang member!jimin, tattooed/pierced!jimin, long hair!jimin, use of guns/knives, mentions of self harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drugs, drug addiction, angst, murder, strong language, 18+, minors dni.

author’s note: yes, yes another one. obviously i had to write something with my love jimin. also if you can’t tell i have an obsession for tattoos and piercings.

©btsugarush. please do not repost.

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jeonitopia · 10 months

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BABY TIME

🪐 bts x f! pregnant! reader (separate)

🪐 headcanons // fluff+angst

☆ warnings: none except maybe no beta read !

a/n: potential part 2 for when the baby is born? depends on if people like this.. also just short hcs bcuz well.. i overdid myself and did all 7 in one post... sigh (i made tis longer than it was supposed to be wtf)

☆KIM SEOKJIN

"Aishh! you already had chocolate earlier!"

constantly watching your diet, making sure all your vitamin and certain intakes are proper

"Jin I'm craving ramyeon with milk mixed in.." "WHAT"

catching him ask his mom what she needed and what she wouldve done if she got pregnant again (he has no shame)

he's an absolute prince in your child's eyes

when he has to leave, he calls you at least every 2 hours and if he can't, he messages you!! (asking for pics of you and the baby)

in love with role-playing with the child, wether it be king and princess, or knights and bandits (you're the damsel in distress)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆MIN YOONGI

honestly, he was terrified of being a father because of his experience with his own father

once he realized the whole weight of the situation, he understood that he WILL be a good (and supportive) father because you are with him

learning that your child also has a thing for music

absolutely bringing your baby to the studio and letting him have his own crib next to his producing set-up

has noise cancelling headphones for the baby if he has to record something or when he's going to fully focus on producing

(of course has the volume on his headphones a medium volume so he can hear if the baby wakes up)

made a joke about how in daechwita, you'd be his empress and the baby is the heir

cue him posting a photo of the three of you in traditional hanbok (yoongi in daechwita outfit, without the long hair because baby will be upset)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆JUNG HOSEOK

always taking photos of your progress

"look here!"

he always tries to keep you active

massages all day everydayyy

you got him to chill with the dance practices so that he both doesnt overwork himself AND you get to spend more time with him

absolutely doing the silliest things to entertain the baby

it's obvious who the favorite is 😐

showing dance moves to the baby and doing silly faces

has a picture of the three of you in hope world, he loves staring at it and just being grateful for his family

he's j-hope, you're bae-hope, baby is mini/baby-hope

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆KIM NAMJOON

songs containing references and metaphors that relate to you and the baby (not that he DIDNT do this before)

maybe even a whole mini-album dedicated to your journey into parenthood, each song created throughout your progress till your due date

he did his thorough research on pregnancy and things related to it and constantly gives you advice

when the baby is old enough for long distance rides, family trips are a common thing

loves cradling the baby and blabbering about an art piece they're standing in front of

you're so in love? help???

he has 3 lil plants, the 3rd plant being a new sprout that he likes to say is the baby (it sprouted the day the baby was born?? omg???)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆PARK JIMIN

you became an absolute princess the moment he found out you were pregnant

wonders if the baby would grow up to have the same fingers as his papa mochi

already planning to convince the baby to try a martial art or a type of dancing so he and his papa can have multiple ways of bonding

dropping hints about the baby mochi on some of his lives

one time he asked if he can try your breastmilk

😐😑😐

teasing him about how when the baby holds his fingers, they look the same

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆KIM TAEHYUNG

honestly you'd have around 2-3 kids

but this is your first one, taehyung is honestly nervous

absolutely SURE he wants to be a father but more worried on if he'd be a good one

at this point, he'd also be another baby

"Ack, my feet hurt quite a bit.." "AREYOUALRIGHT?DOYOUNEEDTOGOTOTHEHOSPITAL??ILLCALLDOCTORPARK"

you personally think he might be the one more stressed even when he isnt the one carrying the baby

2nd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste

yeontan and the baby being bestfriends

yeontan has super instincts and starts going wild when he feels the baby is about to start crying

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆JEON JUNGKOOK

he watched the movie Up with taehyung and they googled why the old couple had a miscarriage, he learned it was from lead exposure

so now he keeps you away from drying walls and dusty areas and even has a small baggy filled with masks and cleansing tissue

he calls it "baby protection protocal"

surprisingly very calm and responsible! (hes trying to win your trust so that he can spoil your child rotten)

absolutely DROPS the fact that he is having a child and dragged you into the view of the live

3rd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste

baby plays with daddy's lip ring because he finds it really cool

baby also thinks daddy's sleeve tattoo is cool and always wants to slobber his saliva on it

baby wants to ride on bam's back??? 😭😭😭😭

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hollyhomburg · 5 months

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Before I Leave You (Pt.63)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: you never thought that just cuddling with Hobi on a cold day could lead to this; his pants off and you begging "Daisy please-"

Tags: fluff, a little hurt but mostly just comfort, first times, soft cuddle sex, unintentional mutual somnophilia, knotting, scenting, under clarified limits, a touch of slick kink, breeding kink, a touch of size kink (you know the good stuff), unrealistic amounts of cum, implied belly bulge, implied feral sex, small triggers after sex, small references to past abusive relationships, hole check's, knot checks, dom/sub undertones to later scenes but not in the main smut,

W/c: 14.2k

A/n: thank you guys for being patient for this next chapter :) it's one of my favorites so please give it lots of love! i know we've all been waiting for hobi's confession and the completion of their arc, did i do it justice? Also i'm sorry that i have a pathological need to end every single chapter with a cliffhanger lol, this one is no different!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

(5 years ago. Before Yoongi. Before everyone.)

Jung Hoseok cleans his arms in a bathroom. He is 21 years old, there is lipstick on his fingers, and nothing bad has happened to him yet.

Bad is all relative of course. Some would call growing up in a rich area while living in a one-bedroom apartment bad. Some people would call not really knowing your parents because they work late nights bad. Some would even say that the fact that they won’t pay for Hoseok’s college education a fucking tragedy.

But between you and me and Hoseok; other people wouldn't know a fucking tragedy if it hit them in the fucking face. Talking to some people about your suffering is like trying to make a toddler shoot the broad side of a god damn barn with a double barrel shotgun. Or like those little lemon slices they put in the water at olive garden-

It's fucking useless. And you're more likely to be sent to the hospital than get some actual fucking results. Weather it's because of food poisoning, a bullet wound, or because some idiot you trusted thinks you're a god damn suicide risk.

See right? Talking about your problems is fucking useless.

But he’s always been able to focus on the brighter side of things. It's a blessing and a curse because optimism always lies to you. It's easier to be happy than it is to be upset, at least for Hoseok at this moment.

At least he was an optimist until they ruined him a little. After this year, finding the silver will take effort.

The tiles beneath his feet are cold to the touch. He knows that there’s a button somewhere to turn on the heated flooring but he just can’t find it. Hidden and unfamiliar as he is with this den. So different from his own little dormitory halfway across the city.

This fancy three-bedroom apartment is one that he will move into in precisely 4 months once they make it official, he’ll live here for exactly 2 years 3 months, and 8 days before being kicked out and moving into the pack's den. It’s exactly 2 years to the date that he meets Min Yoongi in the record store.

But nothing bad has happened to him yet. Today he is just himself, No idea of what's about to befall him and that It won't just be bad.

This apartment is upscale, with its wainscotting and long gauzy curtains that barely keep out the sound of the city streets 5 stories below and the lightly warm June morning. He’s not quite sure who pays for this one yet. Hasn’t had the chance to ask, he's only been seeing this pack for 2 months. This Hoseok is shyer than the one you know. Timid and unsure of where he should place his dulled claws.

It's all awfully mysterious. The question of "What do your parents do?" and the answer pressed to a raised finger. The truth lingering between lipstick and manicure on a single giggled breath.

"That's a secret"

He casts a glance around the bathroom, the marble counters, the plush hand towels, and even the designer soap is forghein to him.

Rich people.

It's one part tired jealousy and one part true distaste. Even if Hoseok had all the money in the world he wouldn't waste it on painting a bathroom white or powdery Dior soap. Why not blue or orange or green or pink?

(Oh Hobi. The pack’s bathroom will be green one day, with delicate tiles in the shade of the lightest moss. Not yellow-toned and not blue. he's going to help yoongi pick it out, He just doesn’t know it yet).

Their apartment is just a few blocks from the college that he attends, a freshman but not for much longer. A freshman, along with the pack's youngest. Her on the business track and him in a weed-out art department. The prerequisite humanities course is their shared battleground.

Out of everything in this story, this is the only true coincidence.

This version of Hoseok likes omegas with a bit of a dark side. The ones that are a bit bitchy, a bit entitled and alot pretty. The ones that hone their eyeliner to a vicious edge, or the male ones that act a little bit more like alphas and disobey gender norms. That’s what drew his eye to this pack's youngest in their hum 1 class.

He got a little melty when her eyes turned less “I’ll kill you if you even sniff in my direction” and more “A pretty alpha like you has to have a pack right?”

Hoseok had stuttered when he’d said that No- he didn’t.

Before long he’ll drop out because he just can’t cut it at art school. Just can’t spend nights with fingers black from charcoal, working on things that will one day be thrown in the garbage because he’ll have a pack to attend to. Good alpha that he is.

(It will be years before he realizes that it wasn't art school just mediums. He’s meant to use flowers to make things instead.)

They’re not his pack yet, not yet. not yet. Not Yet- But there is a gift waiting for him downstairs. A fancy set of pastels and paints. It’s the start of courting even though he’s supposed to be the one buying them gifts. He’s the penniless college student they’re the ones with the nice apartment. He’s the one with the knot, and they’re all omegas. It’s a give-and-take.

Yet somehow even though he’ll be the only alpha he knows he won’t be the pack alpha.

He cleans the lipstick from his fingers. Bright red. He knows he has it in other places too, down below the tugged low hemline of his pants pulled on after they were done fucking.

The last thing he wants to be is like the other alphas in the fraternities on campus, the ones that holler at all the omegas shit like “I can taste your slick from here baby,” and “want to study anatomy together? I’m a hands-on learner” Hobi dreads the idea that he might be like that. Even a little bit. Even unintentionally.

But still, their words from earlier ring in his ears.

“They haven’t been dating for that long, you can’t expect us to be comfortable all the time with you in our nest, it's a really intimate thing for us."

Hobi feels like one of those phraternity alphas when it makes him uncomfortable.

It’s reasonable that they wanted to give his knot a ride and try him out before they make it official. One alpha and four omegas, these odds are every alpha’s wet dream. He knows his performance was Oscar-worthy.

It had been nice to be in a nest for just a little bit, Hoseok’s biology wants it, the tense knot between his shoulders all loose.

Hoseok has never been loved by someone who wanted to talk to him every day, it will be easy for them to reduce his focus to their beck and call.

There's 4 different colors of lipstick on his cock. Four different shades from four different women. His new packmates get to the carrot part of the carrot and stick arrangement.

In the future, he’ll deny that he ever thought of any of these women as that- as packmates. He'll say it was only ever Namjoon’s pack that he wanted in this way. He’ll say it never compared and it didn’t. Except for these first few months. These first few days.

Memories lie to us all the time; memory is the best secret keeper.

He watches one of his packmates sit on the edge of the nest, she wears the lipstick prints better than he does. Lining the inside of her thighs, her own lips smudged.

Hoseok doesn’t let the smile fall from his lips and she smiles back. She tugs her long hair free of a bun that she’d put it up in so that she didn’t get slick in it. It will be a few more months until she cuts it above her collarbones. Blunt to a brutal edge.

Hoseok’s sweatshirt is on the edge of the nest, and Hoseok watches as she brings it to her nose, breathing in deep. Hoseok is just about to say that she can wear it when she throws it onto a nearby ottoman. Not onto the floor thankfully. No omega has ever worn his sweatshirt before. Hoseok tries not to let the rejection of his scent sting.

She looks at the lipstick on Hoseok, there’s a bit on his lip. “Come here.” She asks, parting her legs.

Hoseok is a good alpha and goes.

~-~

(Now, You and Hobi)

When Hobi wakes it's because the pack is moving around the room, bickering, and struggling to be quiet, bickering a little.

Their low hum drum voices as they talk about “Jungkookie? where did you put my mittens?” and ”I sort of love that you still wear mittens, babe.” Yoongi’s deep rumble, “Did Jimin buy those for you too?” All teasing and understanding. Because if anyone knows how Tae likes to be teased, Yoongi does.

Tae’s fond little croon is so melodic it makes Hobi sigh, ears straining to hear more of it. “Yes, he did. Got pup matching ones too.”

Pup. that’s you. Curled in the center of the nest under Hobi's elbows. dozing but unable to lift your head from where it's pillowed. You’re sure that Yoongi knows you’re kind of awake or at least listening in because Yoongi knows everything.

You’re sure that as he looks down at you and Hobi tangled together, he’s doing it with a smirk. You don’t need to open your eyes and double-check.

The temperature of the nest is balmy, overly warm in the way that it gets when it’s cold outside and the nesting is hitting so particularly good that Hobi won’t even think of moving. (The way it feels when you come out of the cold and into the waiting arms of someone you love) Hobi nuzzles into the warmth in front of him.

A small storm brews outside. The snow has been falling since midday. Just a little here and there. But Tae loves how it looks with all the Christmas lights. There aren’t quite enough up yet but the holiday season is close.

But the snow won't last, soon it won’t be falling at all. It will all melt off by tonight, the afternoon is supposed to be sunny. Can sun showers happen with snow?

"Do you think we could walk all the way to the gym, it's not all that far! only like 10 miles. We could run it in like an hour!"

He listens to the others talk. The sound of Yoongi’s voice, gravely and vaguely upset. “Jungkook, you’re not really thinking about going to work out right now- You’ve barely been home for like 5 hours. I just said we could go do something not run 10 fucking miles.”

Jungkook always gets this way; when the dizziness of the seizures turns to restlessness and he's honestly fine but the others can't resist trying to baby him. Too awake to sleep anymore. He sounds grumpy, whiney, and pouty even though Hobi's eyes aren't open to see him turn his puppy eyes on Yoongi. “I’m never going to be able to sleep tonight if I don’t hyung- I’m gonna go crazy.”

There’s the faint sound of lips meeting and smacking. Kisses that are probably meant to soothe Jungkook. “How about we compromise pup.”

“A walk?” Tae offers, sounding hopeful.

“A long walk.”

You shift a little and Hoseok opens his eyes. You're mostly still asleep just settling, making yourself more comfortable with the new space no longer corralled by arms and bodies.

Hobi’s mouth is dry when he watches you shift onto your stomach your face half-smushed into the cushions, scenting them a little in your sleep. The homey scent fizzle in Hoseok’s bones tells him that you've scented him too. Being surrounded by the pack's scent like this makes Hobi’s skin feel like pop rocks. Like his bones are mentos and coca cola. All sensitive and tingly.

He’s cuddled with you before- through your nightmares and last night at the hospital of course- but it’s never been just the two of you in a nest. He’s never been the only alpha here, charged with guarding the pillows and blankets and you curled soft in the center.

Hobi tentatively puts an arm around your waist, tugging you a little closer. The house still hasn't totally warmed up yet and you'd be cold without some body heat. He does it slowly, seeing if you’ll wake.

There is a hand in his hair, petting softly, and he snatches his arm from around your waist the second Hoseok realizes he's being watched. Yoongi leans over the edge of the couch-turned-nest, smirking a little. The door shuts behind Tae and Jungkook with a puff of cold air, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

He would look intimidating if his beanie didn't have cat ears.

The pads of Yoongi's fingers rub soothing circles under Hobi's jaw and his lips part unintentionally. “Be good yeah?” he says, whisper soft. Hoseok just nods, too sleepy to verbally respond.

They haven’t talked much about Hobi’s confession; that night on the beach what feels like ages ago. But everytime he thinks of it Hobi still tastes salt on his tongue and your name on his lips.

Yoongi’s wearing the same look now that he did then; half hopeful and half worried. But if there was anyone that would object on your behalf, if Hobi wasn't allowed this closeness with you, Yoongi would tell him.

Yoongi doesn't say that you and him aren't ready for cuddling like this. Yoongi doesn't say that Hoseok should give you space or not cradle you to his chest like you are something as fragile and necessary and as doomed as his beating heart. Trembling and stuttering with the force of sweet expectations and hopes made hollow with satisfaction.

Yoongi does not realize that Hoseok's heart has not had a steady beat since he woke up holding you.

Yoongi doesn't say anything. Yoongi just drags a single knuckle down his cheek and leaves. Heading out after Tae and Jungkook who are, judging from the hallow sound of snow hitting the windows- are having a snowball fight.

“If one of those hits me I’m not holding anyone’s hand for the whole walk-“

The door keeps out the sound of Tae's sweet giggles and Jungkook’s pouted, "just one hyung- I won't hit your face-"

And the two of you are alone. Wrapped up warm, quiet and hushed, just the two of you.

Well, except for Noodle.

The meticulously kept edge of the nest is all fluffed, Noodle makes sure of it. Small paws depressing the blanket as he kneads it and then settles on the edge. His purr is audible from here as he blinks slowly from the bottom of the couch turned nest. Jin wrangled him for a brushing yesterday morning and his coat still looks extra fluffy and kempt.

Unwatched and unjudged, Hobi tentatively reaches to cradle your ribs again. Thumb smoothing down the center of your stomach, a little close to your belly button. You’ve got a little hair there. Hobi’s fingers like the feel of it. Not rough but not silky.

Your skin feels like champagne bubbles and sparklers, everywhere he touches your skin goes fizzy. Hobi looks down at you, breath hitching, and thinks Is it really so horrible to want this? Why am I so afraid of this?

You wiggle a little closer in your sleep and Hobi’s arm goes vicelike.

Noodle's purr goes a little louder.

Hobi doesn’t like to think about his last pack ever, but he recognizes that hollow ache and tug that says memories aren’t too far behind. And it threatens to swallow him until he looks down at you. The house is quiet but your eyebrows are puffed up like something very shocking is happening in your dreams. He doesn't want to think about them right now.

He drags his nose across your hairline; scenting you. Tasting your emotions on his tongue. Comfort. Ease. Arousal-sweet. Not all that abnormal. Not nightmares then. He is always on the lookout for them. After Jungkook and the hospital, he sort of thought they might come back.

Hoseok counts his stars and snowflakes, and rests his forehead against the nape of your neck.

Over the next hour, you’re restless. Moving, worming your way closer to him as he goes in and out of sleep. You make a soft noise and he shushes you. a growl that says to stay put and alpha's here.

You blink slowly up at him. Hobi pulls back, taking his arm from around your waist, feeling like he’s just stolen candy from a jar on the counter that’s for him anyway. You stretch and don't comment on it, yawning.

Noodle hops closer, squirming between the two of you and stepping over your shoulders. Meowing right in Hoseok’s face. “Alright alright, I’ll feed you again.”

You snuggle into the warm hallow he left on the couch when he detangles himself, hand under your cheek watching him as he stumbles out of the nest. Noodle follows tail held high. It's truly horrible. Leaving the nest when every bit of Hobi's body wants him to stay in the warmth. The house is always so slow to warm up.

“Fuck the floors are cold.”

“Quick,” you say, face above the edge of the cover. Hoseok rushes, doling out a single scoop of dry food and then running back to you. Hobi wastes precious seconds to grab his headphones from the kitchen table before collapsing onto the couch where you hold the blanket up, sealing the warmth and him back inside. The headphones tangle between the two of you and he falls with a giggle. Disappearing among the white blanket. He sinks thankfully into the warmth, into the safety that the nest offers. Into you.

Your warm arms wrap around his shoulders and his body shivers delightfully in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. Your jaw pops when you yawn and then he yawns too, a breath later. You laugh too and tuck your face into his shoulder.

“Fuck- it’s so cozy.”

It really is, the kind of cozy that only comes along a few times a year. A quiet to your bones that says there is nothing to do now but rest. The coldness that turns your bodies into these molten-loving things. Your warmth and Hoseok’s warmth. One warmth.

He breathes, deep and heavy.

“I don’t know if I want to get up yet.” The house is still quiet. Nothing but Noodles happy munching sounds and the faint scratch of big snowflakes hitting the windows.

Hobi’s heart beats frantic against yours and you sigh. “Wanna listen to some music?” He offers. Hobi always loves a backtrack, a little compliment for the exposition.

You nod, a little sleepy, but Hobi has a playlist for that. He’s got a playlist for everything including ’sleepy cozy pup time’. The headphones take a second to locate, lost in the nest. But when he does you share them. One earphone a piece, the sound turned low so you can still talk.

Hobi puts on a love song, and it makes you smell all sweet. Stretched out with your hair tangling because you’ve left it unbound, the split ends prodding at Hobi’s cheeks. He doesn’t really listen to the song, just watches you. Eyes closed humming softly.

Your scent sours and Hoseok's hand goes tight on your wrist. You tell him what's bothering you without him even having to ask.

“I saw this line the other day that didn't like." You look at the ceiling, not at him. "it said a love song is really good if you can’t tell whether they’re talking about another person or if they’re talking about god.”

You think about Jimin and Tae. You've been thinking about it since Tae talked about their childhood earlier and the bloody cross between the two of them. If holiness does exist, it’s in Tae. If there is anything like religion for you or Jimin, it's love. God has nothing to do with it. God's not the person who makes love songs sound good.

Hobi turns on his side, leaning on his elbow. “I’m not sure Jimin would agree with that either.”

You turn in time to see Hobi’s smile. It catches the sunlight, lingering right on his cheek. An octagonal shaft of sunlight that has traveled millions of miles to get there could not have found a more beautiful place to fall. He huffs a quiet laugh again, and you swear you might hear the highest note of a piano somewhere.

You wonder when he became so musical to you, maybe it’s just because he’s the person who made you love music so much.

(You can tell a love song is good, when it makes you think of Hobi).

“You’re still worried about him, aren’t you?” You rest your lips against his shoulder and Hobi’s body doesn’t move an inch. They’re soft where they lie not a kiss but not not a kiss either. You can rest your lips against his skin, you can rest your whole body and Hoseok wouldn't move an inch.

“Always worried, got to worry about Minnie. Always worried about everyone.” You mumble. Eyes closing.

The light comes through the windows all honey yellow, turning the bookshelves that Yoongi made gold instead of white. Turns the tops of Hobi’s hair a little red too, the brown has endless depths in the sunlight all burnt umber and Sienna where the sun hits, yellow ocher at the tips. The sunlight savors falling on Hobi, down to the last inch.

You try to keep your eyes open, struggling, and Hobi sets a hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair lightly.

"Go back to sleep pup."

You hum, already half there. He pulls you a little on top of him, holding you with a firmness usually reserved for too-large packages and the tenderness reserved for very fragile very precious things. It makes your whole body feel tingly at the edges.

“Thanks for not leaving the nest when everyone else did,�� you think he might be asleep for how long it takes him to answer. But everything in the last 24 hours has left you feeling like you don’t want to be alone, that you can’t be left by yourself. He breathes up and it presses against your stomach.

“Didn’t want to go with the others- just wanted to stay here in the nest with you.” nesting is a biological need for alphas as much as it is for omegas, Hobi hasn't felt so relaxed in ages.

He murmurs, hand still skimming through your hair. His thumb rolling against the nape of your neck and you shiver hard into the touch, sinking further into him. “Is that okay?”

Your hand finds a spot under his arm and you use it to tug yourself closer, getting your forehead against his shoulder, the headphones slipping from your ear.

“Yeah. It’s always okay.”

Hobi tucks your hair behind your ear and puts the headphones back in.

The next time you wake it’s because Noodle is licking at your forehead, grooming you, and you hear the shutter sound of Hobi’s camera, his small giggle. You swat at noodles face and he bats at you a little before settling on the small of your back, fighting Hobi for necessary real-estate and howling when he gets pushed off.

“Nu, be quiet,” Hobi’s hushed words are answered with an equally quiet meow that sends you straight off to dreamland again.

You don't know how long it's been, it could have been hours or minutes the next time you wake. You just know that Hobi smells good, smells musky sweet caramel all drippy and heady, that you've got your nose pressed up against his scent gland. All surrounded by it. Surrounded by him.

The next time you wake is not so innocent.

You’re a little too close. Cuddling with Hobi in a way that you might with Yoongi- with Namjoon or Jungkook. All warm snug hot. Bodies and dreams tangled so thoroughly that it's hard to tell where dreamy wants begin and fragile delights end.

You’re warm at your front from Hobi and warm on your back from the sunshine streaming through the window. Warm all the way through. Until he moves his hand and you realize that’s from him too. His fingers splayed over your spine.

You think you can be forgiven for confusing them. Hoseok and sunlight are one and the same.

The apex of your thigh is pressed tight to his hip just where his thigh starts. Your leg hitched over his hip and tight to it. The fabric of his sweatpants and the fabric of your pajama shorts are all bunched up from your movements. Your knee bent at a comfortable angle. His scent is heady in your nose, pressed to the low tugged collar of his shirt just over his heart.

As close as you can be but still not enough.

You don't even realize your hips are moving, sleepily grinding against his thigh until it's too late.

Hobi grabs your hips and groans.

You stop mid-movement, thoughts sloshing sleepy. And oh, you were moving, weren’t you? There is a dampness between your thighs and the scent of slick and arousal sharp in the air. That comfortable pleasure hiccup in your throat that says you want to cum and can. could like this.

You jerk back from the warmth in front of you, startled into wakefulness as you realize exactly you were just doing.

Oh no- you didn’t mean- Hobi. Alpha, warm and comfortable at your front.

You start to back up, still half asleep, but terror and embarrassment flood you like the ocean floods the sea rocks at high tide.

Hobi groans, a deep near growl sound, and moves before you can back up even an inch. he was just as asleep as you just were until you pulled away. His sleepy brain still clings to you.

His hands slip lower, holding you tight against his front. His sleepy alpha brain is malfunctioning. Sweet omega needs to stay close. The source of his warmth and the friction against his front cannot slip away.

His hands are on your ass and your pussy is pressed flushed to his hip, and Hobi-

Hobi is your best friend, Hobi is your packmate and Hobi has to be unaware of what he’s doing. You’re sure of it. You try to pull away again from him fighting back more embarrassment than you've ever felt in your entire life, hands pressed to his chest.

But He pulls you right back to him.

Right into a unmistakable hardness poking at your stomach. Hard and warm. Right where you were grinding in your sleep.

Hoseok’s heavy breath brushes your ear.

Instincts are incredibly hard to describe. The way they hook into your consciousness and separate reason from action and want from logic. The part of you that’s in control, that recognizes that you and Hobi shouldn’t be this close like this if it’s not talked about, is so distant.

A needy sound echoes that might be from you, that is from you, as Hobi’s hands slide up your hips and under his sweatshirt. Cold hands on your warm hips and oh-

Hobi’s eyes are cracked open, looking down at you, watching you with pink cheeks. Tongue darting out to lick at his lip. “S’okey you just-" his eyes flutter closed again; breath warm against your face. "You take what you need.”

It’s only a testament to the pack's care that you associate these things with each other. Safety and coziness are just so close to pleasure and comfort. Your sleepy body associates this kind of nesting with sex. it's only natural that you'd get a little needy while inside of it.

You can get needy, Hobi doesn't mind.

Before either of you can say if you really should, if this is really a good thing to do without talking about it first. Hobi’s hands are on your waist, pulling you back snug, his hard thigh between your legs.

If you were more awake, you’d think better of it, you’d think so much but there is only that sweet pressure. The drag, the wetness, the soft little huffs of breath that he shushes when he lets you take what you need. Helps you with his hands on your hips and guides you back into rocking against his thigh.

You feel it all the way down to your toes when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass then back up again, underneath the hem of your shorts and then your sweatshirt- his too (all of you his). Rucked up to your ribs.

“Soft.” Hobi groans.

This must not be real. This has to be a dream. Because Hobi doesn't want to touch you like this, Hobi doesn't groan and twitch against your stomach or guide the movement of your hips with his hands into a slow grind that has you gasping against his jaw. Hobi doesn’t leave the seat of your pajama bottoms soaked with slick. Hole clenching around nothing already. Utterly boneless where you lie against his front.

There is one single moment where you look at each other, one single moment where you try to keep from going any farther. Even though you want it, even though he wants it too. If Namjoon and Jin have taught you anything they've taught you caution.

Hoseok can smell the others lingering on your skin, the spot on the top of your head where Yoongi rested his cheek. He leans down, brushing his lips over it. It’s such a tender gesture and it breaks the flood and he's tugging you up, tugging you even closer, desperation coloring his voice all sweet.

“Fuck- please.” His forehead rests against yours, “fuck I just need-“

You're not sure who moves first, who starts the kiss only that once you’re kissing him it’s hard to stop. One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.

Teeth clanging against each other, harsh as they nip. Kissing so good that when you pull apart for breath you're both gasping and it has nothing to do with needing air.

Hobi has such nice lips it’s no wonder that they’re heart-shaped. Made for kissing, made for the needy needy licking against the seam of his lips. He shifts turning you on your side, surging up to kiss you properly and put his weight behind it. cradling your head with one hand and your side with the other. You’re so pliant, so willing to let him kiss and take. You want him to take everything. arms around his neck.

He breaks apart, forehead resting against yours, heart beating so quick that he can feel it in his palms. Pupiles blown when he blinks. “If you take what you need, and I take what I need- Can we-“

Your hands thread hard in his hair. Tugging him back to your lips. Closer and closer. “Fuck Yes- please-“

You don’t know where the wanting comes from, why it’s raging through you like a fire. His lips move against yours frantic, you bite his lip and he jerks. Hovering over you with your back against the nest, all tingly and fizzy. Your bones feel like champagne popping, like shooting stars burning out.

Hobi’s hands shake when they touch your hips, just like yours do when you mirror him, your touches shy but just as hungry, tugging up his shirt, fingertips and nails pressing bluntly to his happy trail of fine dark hair. You can feel the way his cock jumps against your stomach and thigh when you scratch gently.

You pull back a little and sit up and it’s sacred; the way that he panics, scrambling to hold onto you. You're A little bit shy when you take off his sweatshirt, nothing underneath. hair fluffing when you get it free from the cotton.

Your bare skin and the cold room. You get goosebumps on your arms almost instantly when they cross over your bare chest. Hobi’s breath stutters in his chest, like roman candles flare and settle. Hobi takes his sweatshirt from you and sets it aside in his haste to hold you again.

He starts to tugs his pants down, getting tangled because he won't even pull back an inch from you. You kiss his throat, again and again making up for lost time. Sucking a mark there. His hands fumble with the waistband of his tied tight grey sweatpants. finding the loops and then freeze when he feels wetness. Pulling back and looking down just to make sure that that is what he thinks it is. you stop your kissing and look too.

There is a wet spot, darkening the grey material. Your slick from your grinding, the spot where you got so worked up and felt so good that you couldn't even help it. He pulls back so that the light can kiss it but yeah that's definitely from you. Evidence of how much you want this. Evidence of how much you want him.

Hoseok thinks you might have actually set his body on fire. Is about ready to start checking your fingers for matches.

You blush so hot that you think you might be burning in embarrassment. Hands between your legs, clutching at the material of the nest, so embarrassed you can't watch as Hoseok looks down at it and then up at you.

“I’m sorry I- I can’t help it- I'm always-“

Hobi’s hands smooth over the wet patch, splaying up to cradle his cock where you’ve left your mark. And he looks at you, jaw rolling and eyes dark. He doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

It’s hasty how you both move to take his pants off, and he kicks them to some forgotten corner of the nest, his boxers pulled off too, and then clings to you. You cling to each other. Kissing again. Hands knotting through his hair and tugging.

You glance down and oh- Hobi has such a pretty cock. the prettiest in the pack maybe (don't tell Tae), Flushed at the tip, hair neatly trimmed and curving up.

Your bare thighs press to his adds a whole new level to this, the skin there is sensitive and unknown. Lying thigh to thigh somehow feels more intimate than chest to chest as you lie the way lovers do, your leg, his, then yours again.

You’re damp between your legs when he touches, hands shaking. He doesn't bother to take off your shorts just tugs the soaked bit of fabric to the side. It’s been a long time since he’s touched a pussy but he knows enough to do it gently. Petting over your folds like he’s teasing a flower to bloom and opening a rose for a bouquet.

“Please” you gasp, hand vicelike around his wrist. Kissing his frantic pulse again. Hot lips and a cold nose drag down his throat. You hiccup as the pads of his fingers find your clit, shaking against him. "Please-"

But you don’t need to ask, you don’t need to beg. Whatever you need Hobi will give it to you. Your hands scratch as his back when he presses close, snaking underneath his sweatshirt. Breath heavy.

He kisses your neck and bites it when his length brushes the wetness between your thighs. Hot and honey slick. his hips press to your hips, harsh lines of his thighs pointing low that you like. There is so much about Hobi that you like; the way that he kisses, the way that he touches. oh- it’s better than you imagined.

His knuckles are glossy with your slick when he curls them against the nest, holding himself up.

Hobi bends down to skim a kiss across your neck, your collarbones, your sternum.

You laugh, your giggle high and bright. He has to pull back, not upset at all but wanting to laugh too, giggling too. “Why are you?”

Your smile means everything to him. “Your hair tickles.” It is kind of fluffy, kind of pulled everywhere from your kissing and you run your fingers through it, scratching a little around the nape of his neck, and Hobi is done playing.

He pulls back, already dripping a bit of precum, silvery and pearl like at the head of his cock, standing against his stomach. a little hidden because he's still wearing his sweatshirt. Checking because he can’t not check.

“Is this- can I- fuck are you-“

“Daisy, please-“ Oh, how that pet name unhinges him.

He won't make you wait another second for it, hands shaking as he holds your hip. Shushing your needy whimpers with a soothing alpha rumble as he guides his cock close. Giving you what you both need.

Hoseok is not as big as Namjoon or Tae or Jimin, but he’s properly thick. Not the kind of thickness that knocks the breath out of you but the kind that fits just right. Not enough to make you ache or hurt even a little. It doesn’t hurt at all when he eases in slowly.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

That might be because of how soaked you are; dripping messy underneath the warm humidity of the blanket. The visual of your glossy pussy robbed from him but unimportant as Hobi stares at your face, resting his head against your forehead. Watching your eyes dilate and eyelashes flutter. “There we go- fuck-”

It’s not worth pulling back to separate how close you are. How good it feels to press his chest to your chest, not even a single inch separating you. His kisses go gentle and messy, moving against yours in a gentle rhythm just like his hips after he gives you a second to grow used to it. Rocking just a little.

Hoseok has heard the others talk about your pussy, those moments that he tried to block out at the beginning and then started to file away once loving you got more real. But for everything he's heard from his packmates, nothing compares to the reality.

The closeness. The way your hips fit. The hot- too much- clench around him.

He understands a little maybe, fully buried in you for the first time, why they talk about it so much. Why Jungkook had slipped it into dirty talk a few times with Namjoon and why it had made him growl and cum so quick. Why Tae had teased Yoongi for hogging you.

Your pussy feels like an inside joke in all the best ways, the kind of inside jokes that always have you feeling both known and loved. You can’t remember what you used to laugh about when you were a teenager and if asked Hoseok would fail to describe why sex with you feels so full. Why it feels like highlights and golden ages, the golden hour drenching you. It’s not sex for pleasure’s sake and it's not sex for closeness's sake either- although that’s part of it.

It’s not sex at all, it's making love. With Hobi, it’s making love from the beginning.

It's not instincts and mating bond urges. It’s not one submissive giving to a dominant. It’s not about protection and safety even though that's there or because you're an omega and he's an alpha. Because he's a man and you're a woman.

It's just love, that's it.

And it doesn’t hurt at all. For either of you.

The eye contact is never ending, his warm and fucked out the more he rocks. Gentle at first and building up frantic. Hobi doesn’t fuck like the rest of the pack does either; he doesn’t speak, letting out these quiet heavy breaths and shushing your squeaks with soothing alpha grumbles. His thumb wiping away the few overwhelmed tears that slip out and a smile swallowing your hiccuping breaths.

"Fuck” he breathes, moving his hips a little faster. His stomach presses to yours damp and tacky with sweat. Hoseok’s doesn't fuck in and out all the way, hardly moving away from you at all. Just rocking in deep.

Hobi doesn’t stop hitting every spot, comfortable with these unending rocks of his hips, maddening in the way that he never stops filling you. Never pulls out even half way.

Your hands weakly clench in the blankets of the nest as he twitches right there. That sensitive spot inside of you that feels like courting ecstasy when he nudges it. It’s the same spot that Yoongi likes to tease at, the spot that only his long fingers can reach properly and Tae’s too when she’s really trying. Ghosting over it and petting at it until you’re mad with pleasure.

But Hobi doesn’t tease, Hobi just gives. rubbing against it again and again with every gentle roll of his hips.

you put your hand over your mouth to quiet your whimpers when he pulls back, sitting up just a little. Holding your waist and forcing your body further down on his cock, nudging it as deep as it can go and you sob.

Hobi grins, a little cocky, a little pleased that despite his size compared to the others you're still equally as wrecked.

“Right there yeah?” he teases, and then rocks against it again. thumbs pressing against your stomach where he cradles you. waist so tiny that they almost meet when he holds you.

Your cheeks are hot, and you have to turn and whimper into the pillow. he lets you shift so that you're belly down in the nest and he's behind you glued to your backside. lying his weight down behind you like a blanket. pressing you into the nest where you'll stay like a good pup.

Hoseok instincts are absolutely purring. omega, getting bred in such a pretty nest. Good warm soft omega.

Your hand laces with the blanket, needing something to hold onto and he kisses the back of your neck, treading your hands together as he keeps going. This new position lets him rock in even deeper, putting his weight behind it.

“If you keep going, I’m not gonna be able to-”

His breath ghosts your ear, lips dragging down the column of your throat to nip and suck gently at your scent gland, marking you there. his hand presses, holding you to the bed as he rocks harder. His barely formed knot already inside and growing, getting you closer and closer as it thickens. Keeping him right there at the spot and you on the edge. You're so wet it's making noises, soaking and dripping down his cock.

He kisses your mating mark, nipping at it, and you’re gone.

You cum, a wet gush around his knot and a broken whimper. a growl in his throat sounds loud in the empty house. It sounds like made mate happy, made omega cum for me. Hoseok's Alpha is absolutely preening watching your Legs shake, the nape of your neck sweaty, body slack and head tilting to bear your neck. both of your bodies messy from it, filthy and blushing with love.

Hobi’s not far behind, rocking another time, a third, a quiet satisfied breath into the back of your neck before his knot pops locking you together as he cums so gently. No growls or gasps, just hot spurts that fill and satisfy you. Knot popping and Locking you so close you can feel his cock pulse. So close you can feel the same heartbeat on his lips when kisses you, hurried kisses pressed to the nape of your neck that quickly go slack with sleep.

Your hand settles across your stomach, and oh- you realize why hobi wasn't bothered by how wet he got you earlier. He just keeps cuming, so much that it's leaking a little around his knot. You're not sure that Jimin or Tae or Yoongi cum this much, Namjoon definitely does- but thats kinda proportional.

he just keeps going, heat flooding you. Maybe he's only cumming so much because it's the first time, and he needs to claim you from the inside out. you're a little too dizzy to figure it out.

You feel like you might pass out. You don't know if it's squirt or cum or just sweat when he lies himself over you. cuddling closer despite the mess. Teeth at your bared throat, Sucking softly, Soothing.

instincts are kind of embarrassing at best, irrationally hot at worse. you squirm a little closer so that his knot goes deeper.

The sunlight spills across your cuddled forms, still underneath the big thick blanket. He doesn’t pull out, the knot keeping him snug tight. His hand is on your cheek, rubbing up and down your jaw. He pulls the blanket up around you. And neither of you says a word as your rapid breathing calms.

You’re not sure who falls back asleep first. Only that he wraps his arm around you and pulls you back on top of his chest, cuddled there. Knot warm and safe inside of you.

knotted together like this, you're finally finally close enough.

~-~

When Hobi wakes you’re watching him and his dick is out. Wet and slick and cold.

That would certainly cause him to be alarmed if it wasn’t for your expression; a little pale. Hands between your legs and looking at the doorway.

You just really don't want to drip cum onto the couch, like- obviously. Hobi didn't hurt you. But the brief terror at waking up uncuddled and so suddenly douses Hobi like a bucket of cold water.

The cold might be the actual reason for his sudden wakefulness. The wintry air in the room is jarring because the house is finally heating up. (as much to do with the heating system doing its job as it is with your activities earlier that turned the windows all hazy with condensation).

It's like someone had just come in and then abruptly left again. Your cheeks are pink, and there is a cloth on the side of the couch, folded and warm. You didn't get it for yourself.

“Don’t freak out, but Yoongi and the others walked in while you were asleep.”

You’re kind of glad that he wasn’t awake to see your mate barely contain his screech, jumping up and down with Jungkook in the entryway. Namjoon’s subtly grinning expression when he took in your appearance and paused in the cold doorway breathing in deeply. Tae wrapped around one arm; their walk interrupted by his return from surgery.

He groans, barely awake enough to think about the visual that Yoongi and the others were treated to. The consequences are better than a shot of expresso at wakeing him up.

But really, was there ever a possibility that the others wouldn’t find out about this? Does Hoseok even want them not to know?

He's too tired, too think about this logically.

Hoseok wonders why he didn’t wake to you holding him. He’s seen you hold the others, hold Namjoon in the morning when you smell like him. The way you wake slowly and run your fingers through their hair. The other alphas have a habit of cuddling up to rest their head against your chest. Hobi remembers that day by the beach when you pet his hair, he wants you to do that now.

But he can't fucking ask. Asking you to cuddle him would be fucking embarrassing.

“Shit." He shakes off his neediness and easily locates his boxers in the mess of the nest because they're bright red. Surreptitiously tucking his now soft and deflated knot back inside. You look away, letting him have that moment of privacy without comment. Your arms curl around your chest, you’re still nude from the waist up. thighs clenched togeather.

“Yeah uhm, they went back out to like- give us some space.”

"Did they say anything?"

You look away, wiggling over to the edge of the nest. "No. But they looked like they wanted to say a whole lot.”

You definitely don’t say that you heard their scuffle, Namjoon and Tae using their alpha privileges to wrangle an overly excited Yoongi and Jungkook. or that both of them had come back inside, both with pink cheeks smelling sweet at the sight of Hobi’s face pressed to your neck and the fresh hickeys at your throat.

(Hobi’s hickeys are always so small and cute. Tae can’t wait to take a picture and save it, for memory's sake. She’s half tempted to take out her phone and snap a picture of the two of you now.)

Your hiss of “Don’t say anything, I swear to fucking god if you wake him-" cured her of any bad ideas and had Namjoon grinning, his dimples showing.

Yoongi’s finger pressed to his lips in the doorway. Smiling wide and showing his gums. Omegas do get awfully protective over alphas in their nests. Especially post-knotting.

You’re honestly a little surprised that their muted shouting hadn’t woken Hobi. The closed door had kept out the cold but not the sound of them discussing on the porch; mostly Tae's insistence that they needed to get out of the house for lunch instead of heading back inside.

“But what if they need aftercare?”

"We shouldn’t leave them alone and unprotected.” (Classic Joonie).

“Yeah! What if they need cleaning!”

Yoongi snorts, “Gross Jk- I’m pretty sure the last thing they want is you licking up Hobi’s cum.”

“But he always likes it when it’s Jinnie-" that had your face and body heating (although that could just be Hobi- a literal furnace that he is wrapped around you).

Now his warmth is on the other side of the nest yet it feels impossibly farther away. As you both stew in silence under the weight of what you’ve done, what you just did.

Everything feels quiet and scary as you put yourselves back together in silence. You use the wet washcloth to keep yourself from dripping all over the couch while he looks for his pants in the mess of blanekts that smell like sex.

Thoughts like shit shit shit and what have you done ping-ponging back and forth across his brain. Mind bouncing between unlikely personal regrets and likely female rejection (of which he is only too familiar with).

Hobi doesn't like feeling rejected, it always brings up bad memories. He didn't wake up to you holding him. Is that a rejection or is his brain just making it up? People always hold each other after sex. Don't they?

You reach for his sweatshirt but before you can touch it a growl bursts forth from his throat and you freeze.

Hoseok scrubs a hand across his eyes, trying to wipe away the memories fitfully. Maybe it’s just because of the fact that he woke up and you weren’t wrapped around him. He's going to have to cuddle you himself if he wants it right now.

This first time with you reminds him of other first time's that didn’t end well. He's sorry for it the second it slips past his lips.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I just- my fucking instincts feel like they're on fire."

“So can I…?” you trail off. Your skin has goosebumps again. And Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s the casual nakedness that has him feeling so unmoored. A blush trailing its way up the back of his neck even though it shouldn’t be weird. He saw you shirtless every other hour during Namjoon’s rut for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah, just wear it- please wear it.” He can’t take back his growl, but he can meditate by watching you pick it up and hug it to your chest. Looking at him for a second as if to check that it’s still alright and he’s not going to snap at you again.

There is a hickey on your shoulder, the spot where it meets your arm. Hobi doesn’t know if it’s from him or someone else. It's a little too red to not be new. You don’t look uncomfortable being nude in front of him.

If anything, you look a little bit glowy.

You look at him and then pull it over your head. His cheeks still heating stubbornly as your chest moves a little, jiggling.

Why do girls have to just- girl all the time- it's honestly a little unfair how much hobi blushed.

He watches you, sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers as you stand up pulling the sweatshirt down your hips. He stares at you until you ask a little flustered by hiding it, “What?”

He tugs on the hem of his sweatshirt, slowly, carefully, leaning forward as he tugs on one of the strings with his teeth. His hands go to your waist pulling you close gently, half sure of himself and half afraid. Hoseok is always somehow half afraid. Is this allowed? Is this wanted?

He rests his head against your stomach, loosely twining his arms around your waist to pull you closer, still loose enough that you can step away if you want. All of this can stop if you don’t want it. He hopes you know that.

Hoseok looks down at your feet, not at your face. “I love it when you wear my clothes. I really don't know where that came from.”

“Careful,” you say, a grin in your voice. Your tone light because you don't want him to smell so sour again. “I’m gonna go for your pants next.”

You snatch his from the floor and dart away. Nothing excites an alpha’s instincts like a chase, and Hobi feels the fire light down his spine. His movements are a hunt-heavy blur. Brain honed in on you.

He catches you by the counter, your giggle echoing off the high ceilings. His blood heating again as he drags you by your hips and flops down into one of the bar stools, sitting you on top of him with a growl.

His hands grip hard around your waist, determined until he’s shy. Letting you go softly, “Sorry I just-”

“Instincts still? Don't worry I get it.” You give him his pants and sit up off his lap so that he can put them on. And now is not the time to get another boner Hobi- but it’s kind of hard not to when you smell so bred, so wholly satisfied.

Hobi did that. Hobi's the one who made you look like this drowning in the afterglow.

Your own instincts are telling you that you want to take the blankets from the couch and drag them upstairs, and tuck them in around the scents of the others. So that they can all see and smell how good you made your alpha feel.

Hoseok’s pleasure leaves an undercurrent to the air that’s intoxicating. Half sugar-sweet and musky alpha. Your body hums with it as he steps up close behind you, close enough you can feel his warmth and not his body, nose skimming the bruise he left close to your mating mark. Letting out a tired sigh.

You did just work off a lot of energy, regardless of the half-nappy half-cuddle fucking that just was; It's also left you fucking hungry.

As much as the kitchen has been a place of anxiety for you it really isn’t with Hobi there. There is still that tape line on the floor that guards you off from the stove, sink, and the fridge. Hobi steps out from behind you and goes to the fridge, getting out some of the prepped fruit that Yoongi almost always keeps on hand.

But you keep looking at the kitchen, the pans hanging above the sink, your mixer sitting dusty in the corner. The hanging mugs. Everything.

He brings it to you, setting it down in front of where you sit. instincts making his eyes fever bright. He watches a little too intently as you lift a raspberry to your mouth. Something about watching you eat cools his instincts, making him release a taught breath.

He watches as you lift another piece, a blackberry to your lips and bite down. Almost purring, too afraid of what might slip out if he speaks. He half wants to do it himself and feed you from his fingertips. But that’s a little too embarrassing to consider.

A minute later, after you’ve eaten half a dozen more pieces, he reaches past you, about to get a piece of peach. He doesn't think anything of it, but when he reaches past your face- you flinch.

It happens so quick that he almost doesn’t even catch it. One second your cheek is turned straight and the next your eyes are darting from him to the bowl. Scent souring with fear and memories from Geumjae.

Fuck. (No cuz actually- fuck Geumjae.)

You don’t look at him with fear, you just look at him with a strange sort of sadness in your eyes. Sorry. Like you’re sorry for being scared. hoseok's hand goes tight on the counter.

"I'm sorry."

Hobi sits down. Holds your hands in his, and waits for a second before he speaks. makes his words quiet and gentle because anger at someone dead and gone has no place here.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You have nice hands, warm where they press into his. And he cradles them, your knuckles flexing vaguely in his grasp, gentle but commanding.

“You’ll try not to, you mean."

You smile at him sadly. Hobi’s chest is tight with it. He needs you to know how much he means those words. How much he needs to mean them. But you both know how hard it is to promise that.

"No. I mean I’m not going to hurt you. Ever.” He repeats. You smile at him sadly again. And he knows his brief anger earlier when you touched his sweatshirt- usually such a normal thing for you- didn't escape you at all. But grief and mourning and memory always finds you at the worst times; after first times and on sunny winter afternoons.

The two of you are a mess, bodies teeming with the memories of failed loves, lost and broken. But you can ignore your triggers; such innocuous things as you wearing his sweatshirt and him reaching past your face. You can ignore your memories; the wretched and rotten ones, just for today.

You let the heavy moment pass and look at the other side of the kitchen. Hobi’s chest feels tight with something. Something that he needs to say but can’t just yet. You can only tell someone you love them for the first time once. You don’t get a second chance.

Hobi just wants to get it right.

You’re looking at the kitchen that Yoongi made for you, holding his hand still. using the other to feed yourself more fruit.

(Is there anything more intimate than holding hands with someone? It feels like more than the pads and lines of his fingers are pressed to yours. soul to soul and palm to palm. The future is written out right there but you ignore it. Love line, health line, fate. But the two of you are dedicated to writing your own end. Your love line is exactly the same length as his, not a millimeter longer).

Hoseok’s chest is still all tight. “What are you thinking about?”

“I haven’t made anything in months.” You sigh, sad. “I want to. I used to love baking, I used to-” you break off, sorrow making you quiet.

Hobi’s eyes are fixed on your shoulder. There are freckles there. He’s not sure why he’s never noticed them before or that you’ve got them dotting your back.

Hobi swallows past something in his throat. Pushing you gently from your chair until you're standing next to him. Cupping your waist because now that he's started touching you it's hard to stop. Now that he knows he’s allowed to touch you so casually, so affectionately, he going to keep doing it.

“Go. I’ll watch you, make sure you stay safe.” Because that’s the rule, isn’t it? Not that you can’t be in the kitchen at all, just that you need someone there to keep you safe.

The words feel tight in his throat, not easily said. I love you. He thinks as he watches you move to the mixer with a small but pretty smile that looks like daisies have taken root on your skin, everything sweet and flowering.

I love you. He thinks as he watches you get your cookbook from behind the mixer. I love you he thinks when he watches you place a mug from that morning in the sink. I love you he thinks as you get the sugar, the vanilla, the salt. He has to get up and get the flour for you, unwilling to have your arms strain underneath the heavy container, doting on you just because he can.

Just because he wants to, just because he loves you.

The shadow of what’s left on the bag hits his dark clothes like a ghostly outline when he holds it. The flour is a bit like you; everywhere he touches it leaves an impression. The rainbows from his suncatcher you put in the kitchen shift with the angle of the sunlight, winking out one by one as dusk falls.

He sits at the kitchen island and watches as you hum and flick through your recipe book. Golden hour fades to orange and pink the same way that roses fade.

He’s not sure why he blurts it out, why he asks, “What’s your favorite?”

You look up from your cookbook, everything is set out but still, the recipe is undecided. “What?”

Hobi can not look at you for this, instead looks at the kitchen island and the old butcher block countertop. Fingers toying along the edge where a knife left a gash.

“You always make everyone else’s favorites; Namjoon’s honey cakes, coffee-flavored things for Jin, the vegan stuff for Jungkook you know- but-” his eyes flick up to you in a moment of bravery. “What’s yours? What's your favorite?”

You think for a moment, a kitchen apart, fingers tapping on the countertop and Hobi can’t take his eyes off of you. His body feels a little achy but in that ‘was just fucked good’ sort of way that makes his breath deeper. Quieting some alpha part of him that always wants a little more. A little more scenting, a little more validation, a little more attention.

But everything can wait.

“My favorite thing to eat or my favorite thing to make?”

“Both. Either.” You glance at the clock. Going to the pantry for a second to double-check that you have everything you'll need. “I’ll have to make some of it from scratch but-" you look at him. “Do you have time?”

Hobi nods. “As long as you need.”

Hobi watches as you measure out the flour and sift it. Hobi watches as you wait for the eggs to get to room temperature and fucks with the playlist. His phone will eventually get splashed with coco but- it’s okay.

All of this is okay, all of this is I love you I love you I love you and I don’t know what to do with all of it, can you take someone it, please. I don’t have enough space in my body to hold all of it. Hoseok doesn’t speak for how sheer the impulse is just to blurt it out.

The yellow plastic mixing bowl keeps clattering against the counter as you stir the egg yolks until they froth up and fizz. Pouting you turn your eyes to him. “Can you help?”

Hoseok has to swallow back the words before they slip past. Hopping up a little too quickly. “Yeah of course.”

You don’t tell him what you’re making, let him guess. So many of your recipes need egg whites and vanilla. You let him put it together on his own. Hobi doesn’t peek at your recipe book and spoil the surprise.

Every action, every spoonful of sugar is I love you too, just say it. You don’t talk about the sex you just had and you don’t say I love you to him. You wait for him to say it first. You don’t say a thing besides; “Just a half teaspoon of that; drizzle it a little at a time, or else it clumps together. Good.” Hobi’s cheeks heat with every bit of praise and you have a lot of it for him.

Hobi looks away when you look up from the bowl, oh so carefully folding the batter and egg whites together. So gently that the hiss and bubble of whipped egg yolks disintegrating is hardly audible.

Hobi hasn’t baked since he was a kid; since he got into his head that chocolate chip cookies were totally something that an eight-year-old should be able to make on their own without adult supervision and almost burned his parents’ apartment to the ground. He tells you the story and you laugh.

He can tell that you’re making adjustments as you go. Adding in a bit of cinnamon, piping off the cookies in neat little lines, and then tapping them oh so carefully to get rid of the bubbles.

The stove preheats and then the tray goes in, filling the room with your scent. That cakey baking aroma that has him resting his head back against the cabinets when you sit on the floor and greedily breathing in.

You wait the 30 minutes like that, sitting on the floor between the cabinets and stove. Your feet pressed to his knees and a glass of lemonade between the two of you.

“You really like baking,” he says, and your eyelashes flutter, you must be getting tired. He takes your feet into his lap, using his hand to massage up your calf. Smiling when you sigh.

“Yeah, it makes me feel- I don’t know. I like making the world sweeter, just a little. Even if it’s just my little corner of it. Making things you guys like makes me happy too.”

“You know, you could go to culinary school if you wanted.” Hobi gets a little shy because you hadn’t explicitly told Jin and Namjoon not to tell anyone about your plans or your application (still pending). It will be a few more weeks until you find out, but that change is just on the horizon.

He's already seen Jimin perusing expensive leather bookbags and has overseen a recommendation letter coming from Namjoon’s email. Hobi might have read it for him to double-check because Hobi always notices things the others might gloss over. Jin and Tae had given it proof read too.

You make a noise in your throat, halfway between a hum in approval and a hum in distaste. “I don’t know, it seems like- a lot to do for a hobby.”

Hobi and you are the only two in the pack who wanted to go to college but didn’t. Couldn’t in your case because Geumjae wouldn’t let you and flunked out in his. He gets the lack of clarity in your voice; to go back or not go back. To try again or not try at all and not worry about whether or not you’re enough.

“I already started applying anyway. Namjoon and Jin and Tae put a lot of effort into helping me apply and-” You let out a frustrated sigh.

Hobi shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter. You can change your mind.” There is always time. You tap your toes against his shins and he grabs your feet and you jerk, ticklish. And he almost almost gives in to the urge to tell you he loves you right then and there.

“But could you be happy? Doing this all the time?” You turn, putting your hand over your eyes to peer into the oven and make sure that the ladyfingers are rising properly. “Doing it every day? Would it make you happy?”

You pause, hand on the door before replying in a small voice. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe I could be happy.”

You stand with a crack of your knees, sticking out your hand for Hobi and almost falling into him when he truly uses your hand to help himself up.

“Come on, we’ve got to make the whipped cream next-”

It goes like that, you both talking, and Hobi fucking with the playlist. Thinking three little words and not saying them.

You let the ladyfingers cool for a few minutes while you make the expresso. Dunking them in quickly. Piping out the honey-flavored whipped cream in sticky little dollops. Shaking out the cocoa with a practiced hand.

You make the caramel for the top last. Sugar-burning, glass-like little strands on top for a bit of crunch.

The tiramisu is a delicate creation, the layers perfectly spaced out in just the right ratio of cream to chocolate. You let it sit for a second in the fridge and when you take it out, you cut it into a single perfect little square and put it on a plate for him. Treading over the blue painter’s tape line and lingering by him where he sits.

“Try it.” You ask and he does obediently.

Hobi takes a bite of it, rolling the flavors around his tongue while you watch. You haven’t cut a piece for yourself just yet, but you have a fork. You stand on the other side of the kitchen island and take a bite from the other corner of the pan, humming happily when the taste hits your tongue.

It really is your favorite. You grin at the plate, “I could finish this whole thing in one sitting.”

Hobi takes another bite. It’s really good, the flavors are simple but delicate, each of them identifiable but yet cohesive. He could eat all of it too.

Hoseok swallows and realizes why it's your favorite; It tastes like all of you- like the pack.

The honey whipped cream is Jin and Jungkook, and the chocolate cocoa on top is your mate; dark chocolate like an Oreo cookie. Hobi thinks it might not be normal cocoa. The homemade ladyfingers are soaked through with Namjoon's coffee and the cake itself is a delicate dance of Tae’s cinnamon, Jimin’s vanilla, and your scent too. Buttery and yummy.

He's finished half of what's on his plate before he realizes that you added the crunchy layer on top, the caramel too.

That’s Hobi isn’t it? The Burnt sugar sweetness. He knows that’s not typical but still, you added in anyway. The smell of caramel is thick in the air. Sweet sweet sweet. Hobi always smells the sweetest when he’s falling in love.

The tiramisu tastes like the whole pack. Like love soaked threw. Hobi’s heart and body is full of it.

He thinks this might be his favorite too.

Hobi tries to blink back the wetness, really tries not to cry as he takes another big bite. He gets a little bit of whipped cream on his lip, licking it and sniffling. You pause, a bite hovering between the plate and your mouth before you set down your fork with a clink.

“Oh Hobi”

The space between you is nothing more than air as you quickly head around the kitchen island. You cup both of his cheeks and he sags into the touch, hands instantly going over yours to keep them there. Tears spilling warm and unabated down his cheeks.

Hobi decides right then he is beyond pretending that he doesn’t want it, that he doesn’t want you. Wet cheeks and imploring eyes.

“Oh Hoseok, what’s wrong?”

You’re standing between his legs and your collarbone rests against his cheek. Your hand runs through his hair and his heart pulses hard.

"I didn’t mean to make you cry. If this is because-” you trail off. You don’t say that you shouldn’t have had sex earlier because you can’t find it in yourself to regret this even a little bit. But you are sorry for not doing it in a way that didn't make him cry. If that's why he's crying.

“No it’s not that. I just-" Hoseok can hardly speak his mouth is so full of love that it bursts from him before he has a chance to think it through. Sobbing a little as he says it;

"I'm crying because I love you and I don’t know how to tell you.”

Hobi stutters and your hands on his cheeks go firm for a second before they relax. “I love you; I love being around you, I love that you're my best friend and that i get to love you too. I love living in this house with you. I’m crying because for the first time I get it-”

He can’t stop the confession now that it's started, and if he'd just open his eyes he'd get to see your smile but they're screwed shut tight.

“I get it, I get why once Yoongi met you, he couldn’t leave. I understand why he brought you back to us. But-” he hiccups and you giggle a little at the sound. His eyes shoot open and he realizes that you're crying too- that you haven't stepped away. You wipe away his tears with your thumbs and grin down at him.

“I'm so fucking afraid too- I can’t help but feel like the way we started just- fucked everything up. I fucked everything up back then by being jealous. I look at you and I’m scared I’ll fuck this up.”

You hold his face in your hands and think; I will be gentle with you, I will be gentle with you even if it kills me. You have never loved someone broken like you, and you know how easy it is to make a wrong step. But you’re sure when you say the words anyway.

“You won’t.”

“But-” you kiss his hands, knuckles, fingertips. His forehead, his lips Everything. Your eyes are focused and Hobi can’t look away.

“You won’t, you promised not to hurt me and you won’t.”

He falls silent, and you pull him in close. His lips still tingle from your kiss and you kiss him again, long and lingering, hard with the force of your conviction. It tastes like tiramisu.

When you break apart, Hoseok rests his ear on your heart and listens.

You should say I love you back, you really should return the words. But you think there will be other moments to say them. You'll say it when you wake up with him tomorrow morning, you'll say it when you fall asleep tonight curled close to him. There will be more time to say them- during a late-night drives when you look over at him in the dark. There are always going to be more times to say it and you’ll say it and mean it every time.

Unfortunately, life isn't so neat and tidy.

You wipe his cheeks and he wipes yours and you both giggle, leaning into each other. You get him a tissue for his nose and start laughing all over again. Being with Hobi will always be like this, half your lover and half your best friend.

“Do you want to go on a drive later, only,” you wipe tears from your own eyes, “want to take the others this time?”

He smiles, “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

He tries to pull you in for another kiss but you feed him a bite of tiramisu instead and it gets half on his cheek, “finish your cake alpha,” you command, and Hobi is perilous to disobey. the next bite you take ends up on your cheek too because he tickles you, and you blush when he leans forward to lick it off your cheek. All giggly and happy and close. You sat practically on the edge of the counter. Noodle meows and laps up some of it from the floor.

You don’t need to say I love you back, you already have. Hobi can taste it on the edge of every bite.

You cut him another piece and share it this time, and he can't stop looking at you, can't stop smiling.

You smile around a mouthful, "i'm gonna tear up that train ticket."

"Don't you fucking dare. We've gotta like- put it in a scrap book or something."

You clean up the tiramisu, thinking of what might happen when the pack gets back, thinking of how things will go now that you’ve settled this. They’ll be happy; all of you all together finally. This last piece of your little family finally falling into place.

Maybe it will go like this:

Maybe when the pack gets home, there will not just be tiramisu on the counter. Maybe there will be gluten-free lemon bars and honey cakes. Chocolate ginger cookies dusted with powdered sugar and freshly baked bread with cheese and garlic. Little personal cheesecakes that you made in a muffin tin dotted with jam preserve because now that you’ve started to bake again there might not be anything to stop you.

You already feel the urge in your hands, the urge to make things. You think it might have been learned from Yoongi.

Maybe they’ll come home with pizza, unsure if a party and alcohol is really the proper way to go about celebrating, but the cake from the bakery that Tae will buy as a joke, will have flowery lettering and “congrats for losing your Hobi-ginity"

It will make you laugh until your lungs ache like the fireworks have gone off. Will make him blush and rub the back of his neck in shyness.

When they come home there might be a few sly comments but the pack knows when to tease and when not to. Maybe Namjoon will take a hearty sniff at Hoseok’s throat, dragging it up and down the nape of his neck, huffing happily. (Namjoon has always been a little bit possessive of Hoseok the same way Jin has always been possessive of you, but that's pack alpha's for you).

Tae will tuck your hair behind your ears to get a better look at the mark he left on your throat, manicured fingers gently stroking over it. and Yoongi will shoot him a challenging look and drawl, "really daisy? is this really something you wanna start?" all playful. the way yoongi only gets when he's really really happy.

And when Jin gets home, Maybe he’ll drag you over his lap with some squirming because there is no avoiding this hole check. Not when Jin and the others have been waiting.

Under the hungry eyes of the rest of the pack, you would still squirm. Your mate watching and grinning as he nibbles a piece of pizza and just watches as Jin pulls your sleep shorts down to your knees. Leaving them there to pin your thighs together. Hand against the small of your back to keep you still.

Of course, the pack omega has to look after the two of you and make sure the lowest on the hierarchy is being safe without a stronger presence nearby. But your entrance is pink fucked warm, not red and inflamed. Hoseok’s knot is the perfect thing to warm you up, and Jin tugs his sweatshirt over your hips to keep you warm as he examines you.

Fingers drag your entrance apart to show the others how good hobi did. Prompting them to touch and feel for themselves, all of their fingers teasing at your entrance and all of them touching you. Tae and Jungkook holding your thighs, Jimin and Namjoon resting their hands on your ass to help jin hold you open better and yoongi prodding to feel-

They'd want to see his cum slip out, forced from your hole by your needy clench. Of course, they'd just fuck it back inside because not a drop can go to waste. one set of fingers and then another, jungkook leaning down to taste.

Jin’s eyes would be all dark eyes and honey tones, looking hoseok up and down, cheeks as red as the sweatshirt you wear. His praise makes Hobi feel just a little bit too proud for his own good.

Hobi would probably get a knot-check for that, because if the alpha has something to be proud of then surely the others need to check his ego (and only in the way that hobi likes).

The alphas would scuffle with him a little, wrestling to settle him. Hobi's instincts are still fever bright and he needs to be put in his place. To feel the pack for what they are; very necessary safety bumpers.

He'd go so easily after a few nips- Jimin would help pull his pants down so Namjoon could get his big hands around him, fingers teasing at the red skin around his base and making Hobi growl and gasp. Pausing to cup lower and make sure Hoseok's empty, that he didn't hold back breeding you. Tae would tutt and make him open his mouth, her finger teasing along his teeth just for shits and giggles. Just to make him groan.

Nothing makes an alpha more proud than getting to show off his teeth.

Jin would smile at the display, and croon. “Good alpha.”

Maybe Jin will pat your pussy lips softly before pulling your pants up, making you flinch and then relax and jungkook would bend down to give Hoseok's knot a little kiss before standing.

The whole thing would take maybe 5 minutes but it would leave the whole pack ravenous for more. The final evidence of this finally happening; all of you together and not fragmented.

As you should be, together.

Maybe later, after treats and pizza, you'll all get to go to the beach like Hobi promised. Two separate cars. And Namjoon might let Hoseok and Jimin do donuts in the empty parking lot without too much fuss. The smell of tires and gasoline ripping.

Jungkook whooping and Yoongi watching on with his grin, Jin in the back seat with you going “Oh- oh hope- slow down” looking a little green. But terrorizing the pack omega is kind of your job.

It’s cold and late at night but you’ll tear out across the sand. Running to the shore. Tossing your shoes into the dark and toeing into the waves. Yelling happy.

You and Hobi will try and throw Yoongi into the water and then the other alphas will actually succeed in throwing Namjoon, pushing him until he inevitably tumbles into the seafoam. All 7 of you will try and wrangle Jungkook into the same wet fate and fail.

Jin will tuck Namjoon’s wet hair back behind his ear and grin at him, his grin saying the words they don’t need to. Kisses tases like secrets and salt but that much has not changed. Might never change when it comes to the eight of you. All the secrets in the world couldn’t keep you apart.

You’ll get zoomy in the way that dogs get in wide-open spaces. You’ll run. Your feet slapping against the sand, tossing spray into the air as high as your laughter, chasing after each other. A bunch of barefoot kids in too-big bodies and sand between your toes. Hands clasped tight in each other’s so that you won’t let go. You won’t ever let go now that you've found them.

For once you'll be absent of all the things that drag you down. Lighter than the warm air that billows over the sea. Mouths that store special secret salty smiles for the better. Damp fingers that curl against warm wrists. holding onto each other tight even though you’re running and running-

Running.

Maybe.

But that’s not what happens. Instead, what happens is this;

You are sitting at the kitchen counter when Hobi gets a text. It’s from Jungkook asking about the pizza types that you’d want and

Yoongi’s left his phone, he says with a little 👀 emoji. But he won’t truly tease the both of you until he gets home. Of course Yoongi was too distracted by you and Hobi post coitous to grab it from the other room.

you to to the pantry to put away the flour and this close- you can hear another phone ring from the bathroom. It's it yours? Only No, it's not your phone sitting on the counter, but Yoongi’s. Lighting up with Jin’s contact information.

JinJinJin: 5 missed calls.

It's so like your mate to leave his phone in such a random place. You smile as you pick up.

Jin is already talking a mile a minute. Fear and panic make his words come quick and desperate.

“Yoongi- why the fuck didn't you pick up" You don't have time to respond. Don't have time to let him know it's not your mate but you that picked up the phone.

"I don’t know how the fuck it happened, I don’t know- but-“ he’s almost shouting over the phone, such raw panic in his voice that it has your body going frozen.

Jin lets out a broken sobbing breath.

"I shot Minnie.”

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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~-~

Notes:

I ended up editing out a good portion of Hoseok ’s inner monologue at the begining, because I realized that at that point in time with the other pack he wouldn’t have been thinking stuff about how terrible it was because it wasn’t terrible yet. i probably should have even edited it fluffier if we're being honest. i think that would have been more unsettling.

The line where she says “One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.” Is a little hard to explain, she’s not thinking about Yoongi in that moment but the person she associates the most with love is Yoongi so- yeah it made sense. I feel like this line might make people go a little like “what??”

I swear if you guys didn’t cry a little at the ‘It doesn’t hurt at all.’ Parts I’m not doing this right because I was SOBBING.

Listen, I almost edited out the line where he calls her pussy an inside joke so many times- but for me- when I was younger I always wanted to be a part of inside jokes because like- if you are that means you’ve got history with someone- Hoseok is thinking this because until this moment- he hasn’t been able to be apart of something that the rest of the pack had understood.

When Hoseok was leaving a hickey over her mating mark it’s his way of saying “this is mine too 😠” to Yoongi,

Honestly??? Why is Hobi so feral in this like- he’s a /little/ unhinged from how much he wants her and tbh it’s fair. Look away if you don’t wanna read him going APESHIT for her.

ALSO- I’m just imagining him on the walk with jungkook and Tae, cheeks slowly pinking up because he can feel that they’re having sex down the mating bond, maybe getting hard and the others noticing, both of them plastering themselves along his side and teasing him with words like “do you think he’s making her all wet and messy hyung? Do you think she’s gonna cream around his cock like she creams around yours?” and Yoongi just- endlessly suffering around the two horndogs that are Tae on estrogen and jungkook on a regular day.

The moment where they’re holding hands and it’s talking about palmistry is a refrence to noah kahan’s song everywhere everything and the line “it’s been a long year, in all of our books pages dog eared, we write out the ends on our palms dear, and forget to read.”

The worst worst worst part about this chapter is that I don’t??? have a fucking recipe for the tiramisu?? Like I’ve made it before but I’ve never made honey flavored whipped cream or put caramel on top 🥺 maybe I’ll test it out one dayand update this chapter

Okay so the ‘flash into the improbable future at the end is a little too horny for the end of smutt but I couldn’t just /not/ put it in there because you know how I love a good hole check scene.

do you hate me because of this cliffhanger? even i have to say its a little unforgivable.

please be patient for next chapter because i do not have A SINGLE fucking word written for it. like nada, we're starting from scratch come monday.

~-~

Hobi's sex Playlist (jk isn't not a sex playlist)

Dominic fike- Mama's boy (hobis' flashback)

Mitski – my love mine all mine. (yoongi telling him to be good)

Lana del ray – chemtrails over the country club. (the sex)

Olivia Rodrigo – can’t catch me now (when they're both triggered from the respective abusive relationships)

Tom o’dell – black Friday. (Juz cuz)

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bonny-kookoo · 2 months

Note

I need sweet tooth!Yoongi having a talk with jimin in front of MC where MC‘s in awe of how protective Yoongi gets of her. Pretty pretty please!

"What do you mean?" You hear Jimin speak in the kitchen.

The door to your room is slightly ajar, giving you the ability to listen in on what's being said downstairs, and much to your surprise, Yoongi seems rather.. intense in his tone of voice.

"I love you, I really do, and I do want to make this work-" He says, before there's a pause. "But fuck. Giving her away? Just because she's got some trouble adjusting to an honestly huge change?" He accuses, before Jimin's voice is heard again.

"But I'm not-" He sighs, pausing. "Yoongi, I wasn't going to give her away-" He starts, but the older male is not pacified with this.

"But what?" He asks. "You told me you love her, that you can't even imagine life without her, and yet you take it into consideration- and don't tell me you didn't." He says, and there's a pause.

You feel bad. You don't want them to fight just because of you.

"I didn't." Jimin says in a serious tone. "But I did think about.. Yoongi, what if she really does need therapy? I only want what's best for her." He almost whines, and there's some silence before Yoongi is heard again.

"Do you want that?" He asks, before he speaks once more. "Or do you just want an easy solution?"

You're caught off guard by Yoongi's confrontational attitude- not sure why he seems so passionate about this when all you did until now was piss him off and make his life chaotic as hell. Why does he have so much sympathy for you now?

"Yes she's a handful, yes she's stressing me out, and yes we don't see eye to eye most of the time but that's the thing-" The older guy reasons, "-everything changed for her. It's normal that she's going to hate it at first."

"Yoongi.." Jimin speaks, but he's not done yet.

"She's warmed up to Jungkook. She's become more independent, she's starting to actually try and put effort into this- just give her some fucking time." Yoongi presses on. "I know you don't like the fact that she's not all over you anymore, but you can't have it all, Jimin."

"I'm not.. but..-" The younger adult attempts, but fails at properly making his thoughts known.

"Everyone has to adjust. You too." Yoongi says. "And you can stop listening in on conversations." He suddenly addresses you, who's been slowly creeping down the stairs and closer to the kitchen, poking your head around the doorway. But the second you're called out, you're running back into your room again-

realizing only after your nap that the cat plushy you've been holding throughout your sleep looks a lot like Yoongi.

#bts imagine #bts fic #bts fanfic #hybrid imagine #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #yoongi imagines #yoongi x reader #jimin imagine #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader

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ruerecs · 4 months

Text

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑗𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑠 𝑖.

anti romantic by @sxtaep

how pretty by @whatifyoulivelikethat

special delivery by @dreamescapeswriting

relax for me

ain't real cherry

put it on me

by @jimilter

the shape of your body by @here2bbtstrash

the iron ring by @sailoryooons

silver screen soulmates by @coupsie-daisies

nectar by @gimmethatagustd

desperate by @ressjeon

the misadventures list by @kimvvantae

COME OUT AND PLAY by @lunar-jimin

first kiss by @ggukbabyy

a work of art by @missgeniality

monday morning by @yoon-kooks

#park jimin #park jimin x reader #park jimin fic recs #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin fic recs #bts #bts x reader #bts fic recs #x reader #fic recs #ruerecs

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piedinthepiper · 17 days

Text

Disease ˖ ⊹

Doctor!Jimin x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve had a sore throat for months now, good thing Doctor Jimin has a cure.

Warnings: dark content, dubcon ish, corruption, smut, mention of bullying, yandere?

Wc: 2.3 k

A/n: wrote a little something based on this request! Reader is innocent in the beginning, but throughout you will discover that she’s not innocent at all, but not in a sexual way… This is a great concept, but this is just so unserious. But I had to! It was right in front of me and I had to!

Another A/n: This is also written based on my firm belief that all doctors were pretentious nerds in high school. Because no one gets grades like that from actually having a life.

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

Another disclaimer: I’m not a doctor, everything is off Google! Some technical terms might me wrong, don’t sue me! Also it’s a really stupid story, it’s pure fiction! If any doctor or medical personnel ever does this to you it’s not ok! Ok?

“Y/n y/l/n.”

Your name was heard throughout the waiting room. You smiled at the woman in scrubs, getting up from your seat to follow her. You clutched your bag to your side. Anxiously walking down the hallway.

“Dr. Park will be with you in a minute.”

She smiled as she stopped, holding the door open for you. You walked into the empty doctor’s office. She closed the door behind you, leaving you alone. You sat down in the chair, placing your purse carefully in your lap. You let out a deep breath. Being in a doctor’s office was just scary. You knew it was safe and all that. It was just something about giving a random person information about yourself that made you nervous. The sterile room that so many people had received bad news in. You were dreading the thought of you also receiving such news in that room. The possibility of not knowing if you’re terminally ill or if you just have a flu. Well, that was why you were there in the first place. The door opened, and your face turned in its direction.

“Good morning, ms. y/l/n, right?”

A sweet calming voice erupted from the man. You nodded and stood up to shake his hand. He sat down opposite of you, starting to click and type on his computer. You nervously looked down at your hands, waiting for him to talk again.

“I see you’ve had a sore throat for quite some time now. Is that the reason you’re here today?”

You looked back up at him again. He was leaning forwards on the desk on his elbows. His hands neatly put together.

“Yes, it’s like I’ve had a cold for months now. It just won’t go away.”

He nodded and typed something on his computer.

“Have you noticed any swelling in your lymph nodes?”

He asked still focused on the computer screen. You thought for a second.

“I don’t know, I haven’t checked.”

He nodded at your answer.

“Any peculiar or ugly coughs? Like slime coughs or even blood?”

“There was this one time where there were a little blood.”

He looked back at you, clearly concerned about what you told him.

“How much?”

You shook your head.

“Very little, it was more the taste of blood. Nothing visible.”

He went back to typing.

“And it was only once.”

You added, trying to make the whole situation sound a little better. It wasn’t even that bad, it was probably just because you had been coughing so much that day, your throat was so sore that a little cut appeared. But it was the reason you decided to go to the doctor in the first place.

“Ok, are you ok with me examining you a little?”

He asked calmly, his full attention back to you. You sighed but nodded. He got up from his chair and pointed to the bed looking thing with a long sheet of paper on it. You got up as well and followed him, jumping slightly to get up on it. You wiped your clammy hands on your jeans, trying your best to calm down. He put on white latex gloves and came over to you, positioning himself between your legs. You straightened your back a little.

“Look up for me.”

You did as asked and looked up at the ceiling. His gloved hands immediately went to your neck. Slightly pushing on the sides of it.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and you nodded slightly.

“Your lymph nodes are quite swollen actually. It’s weird that you haven’t noticed.”

He said as he quickly moved to your stomach. Your back quickly straightened even more at the sudden contact.

“Just relax for me, I don’t bite.”

He jokingly said. You let out a small laugh and tried your best to relax. He put pressure on your waist.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and looked you directly in your eyes while his hands roamed your waist. You shook your head, not trusting your voice. He stopped.

“Do you mind taking your sweater off?”

He asked calmly, looking down at where his hands were seconds ago. You panicked for a second, not knowing what to answer.

“Your sweater is quite thick, it’s purely so I can examine you correctly, ms. y/l/n.”

You nodded and started taking off your sweater.

“Of course.”

You mumbled as you pulled it over your head, leaving you in just a black bra. Goosebumps littered your skin at the sudden contact with the cold air. For a second you saw him looking at you, mouth slightly open. It made you uncomfortable, the look was not a professional one.

“Amazing.”

He said and licked his lip slightly before finding your waist again. You tried your best not to freak out at how close he was now. You felt so much more vulnerable now that you were half naked.

“Does it hurt now?”

He asked and did the same motion he did earlier. You shook your head again.

“Can you turn to the side for me?”

He almost whispered. You turned to the side, placing one leg at the floor for stability. You felt his hands slide up your back, pushing at some spots and asking if they hurt. You suddenly felt the cold touch of a stethoscope on your back.

“Breathe slowly in for me.”

You took a deep breath.

“Keep going, keep going for me, y/n.”

You breathed out once those words escaped his mouth. He didn’t say it like a doctor would. There was something behind it you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Try again.”

He uttered and you did. You managed to hold your breath.

“Good girl.”

He said as you breathed out again, making you cough.

“That cough doesn’t sound very good.”

He said as he stepped back into your view. You positioned yourself fully back on the bed.

“I’ll examine your mouth now, ok? Tell me if anything feels too uncomfortable.”

You nodded.

“Open up.”

You did as he commanded. He put two of his gloved fingers flat on your tongue.

“Wider, please.”

You opened your mouth as far as you could. He pointed a flashlight down your throat. Tears started forming in your eyes as his fingers almost choked you.

“Looks like you got some tonsils down there.”

His fingers slowly slid out of your mouth and you closed it and swallowed whatever spit had occurred during the examination. He started removing his gloves, throwing them in the nearest bin. He came back to you and placed himself close to you again. So close that it would be awkward to reach for your sweater that had fell to the floor.

“They’re not big enough to remove just yet. They might shrink if you do the right things.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to get a little bit of modesty.

“What do you recommend?”

You asked him.

“Take cough syrup and cough drops, drink as much warm beverages as possible.”

You sighed.

“But I’ve been doing that for months now, and it hasn’t helped as far as I’m concerned.”

You said and looked down, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him that close. He hummed in understanding, stepping slightly away. You took the chance to reach for your sweater again. But his arm stopped you. You sat back up, looking at him confused.

“There is another solution. It’s a bit- well. Unorthodox.”

“What?”

You asked, willing to do whatever he told you. You didn’t want to walk around with a constant sore throat for the rest of your life.

“Do you have a partner?”

He asked. You shook your head, still confused about where he was going with this.

“That’s a shame. You see, recent research has found out that fresh and warm semen can do wonders for a sore throat.”

You swallowed feeling the saliva sting your sore throat. You knew what he was aiming at, you weren’t dumb. Or at least you didn’t think so.

“Really?”

You asked, not convinced that he was actually asking you to blow him.

“Yeah, I’m a doctor, you can trust me.”

You nodded and stepped off the bed, hearing the thin sheet of paper slightly rip. You looked him in the eyes as you sunk down to the floor. Letting your hands drag down his body.

“Woah ok. Didn’t know you were that desperate.”

His hand went to your face as you positioned yourself on you knees.

“I’m just doing this to get better, alright?”

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll help you.”

He was quick to answer, almost eager. You started working on his belt, trying to get it done as quick as possible. Maybe you were dumb, maybe he tricked you to give him a blow job. The thought definitely crossed your mind. But like he said, he was a doctor, he knew this better than you. And after months of trying everything to cure your throat, you were willing to try just one more thing.

You pulled his half hard dick out, giving it a few pumps. It was a good size, even at its half hard stage. You were about to put your lips to it, but his hand reaches your forehead.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?”

He asked with a sly grin. You looked confused at him. He clicked his tongue, hissing slightly.

“Well, I don’t offer this to every patient that comes in with a sore throat. Maybe a thank you, a little begging for my help would work?”

You mentally cursed yourself, but you were too far in to back out now. You let one of your bra straps fall down your shoulder as you looked up at him with doe like eyes. Your hand started jerking him slowly.

“Please, Dr. Park. Please let me suck your cock. You’re the only one that can help my sore throat.”

His eyes changed from slyness to horniness at your words.

“Good girl, you deserve a cure for that throat.”

You kissed his tip.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Park.”

You said before your mouth covered his tip. You started sucking on it watching his face twist in pleasure.

“That’s it.”

He whispered as you swallowed his cock. His head turned to the ceiling, as a moan escaped his lips. You started bobbing your head up and down, not wasting any time and keeping a steady rhythm. His hands reached your hair, grabbing a fistful. He didn’t force you to go deeper, he just held your hair as some sort of stability for himself.

“I always knew you were a little slut. Sucking me dry in my office with other patients waiting outside.”

He started talking dirty once the initial pleasure wave was over. Swearing in between his words.

“I’ve waited for this for so long. Fuck- Ever since I first saw you I’ve wondered what those lips looked like around my cock.”

You choked at his sudden comment, his hand in your hair stopping you from removing yourself of said cock. You started going faster instead, wanting this to stop so you didn’t have to listen to his creepy speech.

“You remember me from high school right?”

You now realised you were very very dumb, as your mind raced through your memories from high school. Park Jimin, the nerdy weirdo in science class. You would always catch him stare at you, but you couldn’t remember ever speaking to him. Well, except for when you and your friends would call him names and break his glasses. He pushed his hips forward, making you choke again.

“Of course you don’t. You were too popular. But- shit. Look at me now.”

You looked up at him with teary eyes. His hand went from your hair to your cheek, and caressed it carefully.

“I made a shit load of money to have you sucking my dick today. Shit- I have the most gorgeous girl from high school blowing me right now. Finally.”

He started moving his hips, you knew he was close.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

He moaned as you felt the warmth of his seed fill your mouth. You waited for it all, not wanting to have any of it actually hit your skin. You swallowed, before you got up again. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a deadly look.

“I remember you, you little freak. You were disgusting back then and you still are to this day.”

You erupted adjusting your bra strap back over your shoulder.

“There you are, that’s the y/n I remember. Always something mean to say.”

He said as he tucked himself back, that sly look creeping back onto his face.

“Who’s the bully now, y/n?”

You snarled at him and turned around to get your sweater from the floor. You were ready to leave and change doctors immediately. But before you could get up again you felt his body crash into yours, pushing you up against that bed thing. He bent you over it, whispering in your ear.

“You were always the meanest. And I loved it. I loved you so much. I practically worshipped you.”

His groin was pushed up against your butt. You felt his bulge growing by the second as he took a deep sniff of your hair.

“Please, let me go. I’m sorry, I’m sorry ok?!”

You practically screamed, now afraid of the boy you never thought would be able to overpower you. But that was in high school. He was a man now.

“I will let you go, y/n. I’m not like you.”

But before he did as promised he got a good grip of your tits. Letting out a satisfied moan.

“Even better than I thought they would feel.”

He whispered before stepping away from you slowly. You immediately got away from him, quickly throwing the sweater back on your body.

“Remember that I had the power today, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes and walked towards the door. You stopped, and didn’t speak before your hand was placed firmly on the handle.

“Whatever you fucking weirdo.”

You said and opened the door, not looking back. You regretted being this fucking dumb. Falling for his trick, thinking that he had good intentions. The worst part was that it didn’t even get any better.

——————————————————————————

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sxtaep · 2 years

Text

ANTI ROMANTIC - PJM

you could come across as the number one hater of the male species, but not when it came to jimin.

pairing — jimin x female reader

genre — fluff, smut

word count — 3.4k+

warnings/tags — friends2lovers, fwb!au, dom!jimin, sub!reader, teasing, reader is an anti-romantic, lots of ranting, reader confesses, making out, swearing, explicit smut, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, exhbitionism, pillow riding, dirty talk, orgasm denial, reader is very put on the spot, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys) crying, creampie +more

a/n: what to do when the nation is in mourning? write jimin smut 💀 rest up queen elizabeth though, i remember when she came to my school and shook my hand after i gave her a bouquet of flowers 😭

You just wrapped up what you could only call the worst blind date known to mankind. The guy was smug and cocky: you could tell he probably had a thing for being better than women, and that right there was an immediate red flag for you.

Now sitting behind the wheel of your car, pure irritation evident on your face, all you could think about was how the fuck you could face Jimin after another failed blind date. That and the fact that you slept with Jimin a couple times but neither of you had the guts to really put a label on yourselves.

It was agreed your relationship with Jimin was strictly ‘no strings attached’, merely using each other as an output to deal with the stress of work. The two of you must’ve been stressed everyday since it seemed that was how often you both went at it.

“I’ve got a blind date tonight,” you tell him, entering his office to bother him as you usually did.

A blind date?

Jimin wasn’t expecting you to start dating people whilst sleeping with him on the down low. Was that how these things worked?

“You’re going on a date? Why?” He looks up from his desk, clearly confused about it since you always preached about how much you hated men and relationships.

You shrug, “I can’t keep sleeping with you for the rest of my life, eventually you’ll fall in love with someone else and want to get married and have kids.”

You weren’t wrong, Jimin did have all this planned for his future, but he never really saw some other girl with him. All these plans were made with the intention of doing them with you.

“Plus, it’s not like we’re together or anything, so I don’t see what’s stopping me.”

“Well…” he didn’t really know what to say. Does he suddenly confess now or never? If this blind date of yours was a success, he’ll never have the chance to tell you how he really felt, but you seemed really excited about it, he shouldn’t ruin that for you.

“I mean, are you sure you wanna go on a blind date? Kind of a big step for someone who hates relationships,” he says, cocking a brow at you sat opposite his desk.

You didn’t seem as concerned as he was, but then again, why did he care so much?

“Do you want me to give you hourly updates or something? Seems a bit much, Park,” you chuckle softly, failing to notice the inner conflict he was having. “Are you worried about me?”

“No, I’m just looking out for you,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes at your silly teasing. In all honesty, it felt like he was being replaced. “Whatever though, don’t come crying to me late at night when the date doesn’t go to plan.”

When you get home, you you contemplate on updating Jimin. A part of you wanted to send him a message but the other didn’t wanna hear him say ‘I told you so’ as he did many times before.

But fuck it.

you: are you at home?

jimin: yeah, why? you coming over? or you wanna meet somewhere else?

you: no, just make sure you’re home

With that final message sent, you change out of your date night clothes, opting for something more comfortable, but once you’re out of your dress, you look down at your bare body in nothing but intricate black lace (yes, you wore a set with the intention of getting laid tonight) and figured you’d keep it on.

For Jimin.

You throw on a long trench coat to cover up, shivering a little once the material is wrapped securely around your naked body. It was a risky game going out like this, but for some reason, you felt obligated to do this.

If he wanted to make you feel bad, you may as well look good whilst he did it.

The very moment you had texted Jimin, he had just come out the shower, clean and fresh. He re-read your message a couple times, trying to figure out why you were coming over all of a sudden. Was the date so great you wanted to gush about it to him? Or did it go so terribly you were about to rant as soon as you stepped in? Or possibly, were you coming over to fuck?

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it and continued about his night, dressing loosely with a pair of sweatpants and no shirt.

Why wear so much if it was gonna come off anyway?

With that thought, three knocks were had at his door, and he had no doubt that it was you.

You were left waiting for a couple seconds, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor continuously until you were met with a very bare Jimin, forcing your incessant tapping to come to a halt and your breath to catch in your throat.

You eyed every inch of him; his perfectly sculpted v-line, the crevices of his abs, the simple, yet impacting ‘never mind’ tattoo adorning his ribs, and finally his face, which was slightly moist due to the droplets of water falling from the ends of his hair.

“Hi..” you say breathlessly, “Can I come in?”

Jimin caught you eyeing him up, but chose not to comment on it. Instead, he moves aside to let you in, “By all means.”

As you step inside, his eyes follow your form taking notice of the unusual outfit you were wearing. Heels with your legs bare, you must’ve been wearing a dress underneath the coat, but he couldn’t be certain, the damn coat was shielding away his curiosity.

“I’m guessing your date didn’t go well,” Jimin chuckles softly, closing the front door and turning to look at you, “Wanna talk about it over a drink?” Though it sounded like an open ended question, he didn’t wait for you to respond, already making his way into the kitchen to pull out two wine glasses.

“Listen…” you start, your voice low, yet loud enough for Jimin to hear. You’re stuck standing by the door, watching, him set the two glasses down on the marble counter. “I.. am a good girl,” you begin, trying not to sound stupid. “In school, I always followed the rules to the point where a lot of people actually hated me for it.”

The confusion on Jimin’s face was clear as day, and you knew he was about to interrupt you, but you continue to talk, raising your hand up towards him, “Let me finish,” you exhale, “I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 17, probably because I hated the idea of it.”

What the hell were you talking about?

Jimin cocks a brow, leaving his position behind the counter to approach you, “Did I do something wrong?”

The man never hated you, nor did he think you were crazy to have such outlandish opinions on relationships (he understood where you were coming from) and sometimes it was annoying, but not annoying enough to push you away from him. At the end of the day, you were close friend to him.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassure him, stopping Jimin in his tracks. “I shouldn’t have gone on that blind date. It went horribly.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, and Jimin remained as he was in case you were still speaking.

“This failed blind date, along with everything we’ve done together, made me realise I’m only ever genuinely happy when I’m with you. It’s pretty fun not having to fuck my pillow every night,” you say, your cheeks growing beet red at the confession. “And I think it’s safe to say that I don’t not want be in a relationship..”

Your eyes meet his and for the first time tonight, Jimin was speechless. He hadn’t said a word and at this moment, you were glad. “So…” your hands travel down to the belt tied around your waist, pulling on one end to loosen the knot and have the coat comfortably slip free down your shoulders, revealing the black strap of you bra draped over your shoulders.

Jimin knew what was coming. He was bracing himself for what you were about to do.

The trench coat finally hit the floor, pooling around your feet and his breath hitches. He raked his eyes up and down your body, drinking in the sight of you. Flawless skin, perfect curves and a face so radiant, you were the only thing glowing under the dim light of his apartment.

“Woah,” is all he says, having no shame displaying the grin on his face. “You sure know how to flatter a man, Y/N,” Jimin shakes his head, as if disapproving your outfit, but really, the man was losing it inside.

He’s quick on his feet, steadily approaching your form and stopping in front of you, his eyes solemnly kept on you, “I’m glad you finally came to your senses,” he says, reaching his hand up to cup your cheek, gently smoothing his thumb across your skin. “How about we do something a little more fitting for your attire tonight?”

You didn’t bother processing his words, wasting no time in crashing your lips against his in an aggressive kiss, Jimin undoubtedly reciprocating and automatically wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest.

His embrace wasn’t long lasting, hands moving down the small of your back to briefly graze the curve of your ass before settling behind your upper thighs, hoisting you up, “Jump,” Jimin mumbles against your lips, eliciting a short hum from you and you immediately oblige, wrapping your legs around your waist and he held onto you securely.

Not once did either of you break the kiss as he carried you towards his bedroom, but once in his bedroom, you pulled away to catch your breath. “I bet you do this with every girl you hook up with, huh?”

“Just you, sweetheart,” he smirks, responding with zero hesitation, gently laying you lie body on his mattress so he could cherish the sight of you.

A gorgeous, stunning, goddess.

“I bet your pillow’s gonna get bored now, huh?”

Your jaw drops, cheeks turning a slight hue of red from embarrassment. Maybe you shouldn’t have told him about that, now he’d be able to use it against you at any given opportunity. You prop yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head at the partly-naked man before you, “I bet my pillow can make me feel a lot better than you can.”

“You wanna test that theory out?” Jimin challenges, leaning over you to grab one of the many pillows on his bed, leaving it beside you. “Can your pillow make you cry? Can your pillow fuck you as good as I can?” He continues to list out all the things you both done together over the last few months, knowing full well the answer to all his questions were no.

He shifts his position to climb onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard with his legs spread far and wide to show you the tent straining against his sweatpants. “If it can, then show me,” he gestures towards the pillow and your almost at a loss for words.

He was gonna watch you get off, and you felt so belittled liking the idea of it.

You grab ahold of the pillow, fluffing it up a bit for your own comfort. “Fine, but you’re not allowed to touch me and you have to sit on the other side of your room,” you instruct him, pointing to the chair tucked under his desk.

Gosh, you were so bossy, but Jimin would do anything to make a princess happy.

“And you’re not allowed to come,” he warns you, pushing himself off the bed and towards his desk, pulling the chair out to face you before taking a seat, adjusting the boner in his pants before gesturing his chin towards you, encouraging you to make a start. “Go ahead, I’ll tell you when to stop.”

You take his previous position and lean back against the headboard, making yourself comfortable before spreading your legs before him, giving him the perfect view of your soaked panties firmly pressing against you. You took your time, hovering your fingers over the damp material and briskly brushing over your clothed clit, triggering your body to shudder.

Knowing that wasn’t enough for you, you slipped your hand past the band of your panties, the pad of your fingers reaching to rub slow, drawn out circles over your sensitive clit. You didn’t need to do much, the mere sight of Jimin turning you on beyond measures.

Jimin was sat far across from you, his chin slightly raised as he watched you and his hand unknowingly palming the erection trapped between his legs and groaning. It hurt so bad he just pushed his sweatpants halfway down his thighs along with his boxers to free the painful erection. He couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes off you as his fingers simultaneously wrapped around his hardening cock.

“Don’t work yourself up too much, you still have that pillow to attend to,” Jimin’s voice echoed through the room, almost missing your attention. You were getting carried away with your own fingers, you completely forgot about the pillow.

You groan and reach out for the pillow, now sitting up on your knees, and spreading your legs apart to make room for the pillow. The pillow was thick enough for you to have a firm hold on it, and as soon as you sunk down on it, the knock on effect of the material brushing over your heat left you whimpering.

Your reactions had Jimin squeezing on the base of his cock, revelling over how sensitive you were.

He loved it.

All you had to do was imagine the pillow was Jimin and you’d be good to go. It seemed effective once you started rocking your hips back and forth against the pillow, failing to contain your short, but sweet whimpers. Your hips would slow down every now and again, taking long, deep strokes to delay your orgasm as much as possible but it didn’t seem to work.

You looked up at Jimin who’s position was now slouched on the chair, steadily pumping his cock between his fists as he watched you.

“Don’t look at me..” you mumble shyly, shaking your head and looking down at the pillow that had already picked up your arousal, darkening the material slightly.

“Why not?” he chuckles breathlessly, repeatedly swiping his thumb over the head of his cock and smearing any and all the precum down the base. His eyes came to a shut in pure bliss as he picked up the pace of his wrist, his groans becoming low moans. All he could think about were your perfect pouty lips wrapping around his cock and sucking him off just right.

“Take the bra off, lemme’ see your tits.”

You don’t hesitate to oblige, flipping your hair to the side and reaching your hands back to unclasp your bra and let the straps fall seamlessly down your shoulders. Your nipples had hardened within seconds being exposed but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough, too busy rutting against the pillow.

“I can’t believe you let me go on a blind date,” you seethe, projecting your anger towards him and the pace of your hips, now struggling to keep yourself stable.

“We weren’t exactly together, I couldn’t stop you,” Jimin tries to reason with you, aggravation evident in his tone as he mercilessly fucked his fist. He was close, and from the way your body was jerking, he knew you were close too.

It took the man everything and more to still his hand along his member and stand up from his chair, walking over to you with a sly smirk on his face.

“On your stomach, raise your hips. And tell me, what do you think about when you fuck your pillow?”

You whine and force yourself to pull the pillow from between your legs, leaving it elsewhere as you positioned yourself like he’d asked.

“I think about you..” you whisper, “I think about your tongue— your hands all over me.” You hesitate to say more, but you knew that if you really wanted that orgasm, you had to spill. “I think about milking your cock every night, even before we started fucking,” you cry, pushing yourself back against him. The lack of attention to your weeping cunt was playing up with you, “And I love when you tease me— God, I fucking love it.”

Jimin grins, grabbing ahold of your hips and firmly rutting against you from behind, “Mhm, I’ll give you all that and more,” he smiles contently, positioning the head of his cock at your slick hole, teasing you a little before finally pushing into you and eliciting a low ‘fuck’ from his end.

The air is knocked out of lungs much quicker than you expected, the stretch catching you off guard, even though it wasn’t the first time you’d taken him like this; a clear indication you were yet to get used to his size.

“Been thinking about keeping you all to myself,” he admits, short of breath as he looked down between where your body’s met, “Just had to take my time with you. huh?”

Jimin’s words were going through one ear and out the other. All you could hear was his low grunts and your strained moans. “Oh my God— Jimin,” you force out, your half lidded eyes rolling to the back of your head as your poor cunt took him whole.

“No other man can make you feel as good as I can,” he retorts cockily, digging his nails into your hips once he feels your walls greedily squeeze around him. The action makes the pace of his hips falter, but he’s quick to get back on top of it, “Make sure you fucking remember that.”

You nod diligently. You already knew that his words were the truth and the way he was putting it into practice was taking over your being, almost brainwashing you.

You do him the favour of arching your back a little more, giving Jimin all the more room to hold onto you, but it seemed like he had other plans, using this opportunity to pull out and forcing you turn around to lie on your back. You couldn’t say anything, his arms hooking under your knees to push them up towards your chest before swiftly pushing into you again, thrusting at a pace so ungodly, you were sure you couldn’t handle it.

“Too much, Jimin!” you gasp, turning your head away from him to shield your embarrassing state.

He was quick to notice and grabbed ahold of your cheeks, forcing you to look back at him and he continued to fuck you at his torturous pace, rolling his heels deeper into you, “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

You couldn’t imagine what you looked like right now, but Jimin could safely say you looked like every man’s wet dream. Your fucked out state had his cock twitching between your soft walls, and you couldn’t help but clench around him, giving him that final push to reach his high.

“I’m close..” you breathe out, shaking your head in a bid to ease yourself of your coming orgasm, but Jimin was adamant on having your full, undivided attention.

“Don’t you dare look away from me,” he says, releasing your knees from its contraption only to have your legs dangle over his shoulders as he brought his thumb down to circle over your clit and using it as leverage to push you towards your orgasm.

And that seemed to do the job. A string of curses fell from your lips as you completely broke down on him, a sheen layer of white making an appearance between your legs which only became more prominent once Jimin slowed down. A visible mix of white had coated his cock as he continued to slowly fuck you in a bid to help you calm down.

Jimin’s jaw fell slack once he decided to pull out of you, leaving a trail of white behind him as he fell to lie beside you,

You both finally established this was more than just a mutual fuck; it was an open-ended gateway for the pair of you to become something more.

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