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➺ CURRENT SERIES: The Summer of 1989 (series masterlist)
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summary: You’re an up-and-coming actress known for playing cheerleaders and femme fatales in a series of successful teen blockbusters. With your roles comes a reputation: that of a girl who likes to have fun between the sheets. Your latest film is ramping up to be the movie of the summer, but this time you’re playing a sweet girl-next-door and your love interest is played by the beloved Park Jimin. To sell the role, your PR manager has set you up in a fake relationship with Jimin, who is only too aware of the good times you are known for.
warnings: misogyny in the film industry, degrading language (non sexual), infidelity, intoxication, drug usage (weed), smut: kissing, dry humping, oral (fem. receiving), sex acts while intoxicated, p in v sex, cream pie, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), minor breeding kink
a/n: there is some general talking down of what I would describe as rom-coms/chick flicks in this fic that do no represent my actual feelings about these genres, as I think some the best movies ever made fall into those genres. also happy belated lorde album release day to all who celebrate!
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HERE'S HOW IT BEGAN. In an over-air-conditioned office on the twelfth floor of a PR firm in Santa Monica. You were sat in a chair that looked like it belonged in the MoMA and felt like it belonged in a thirteenth-century torture chamber. Summer, your PR manager, sat across from you, legs crossed under her glass desk. She looked pensive.
You were meeting to discuss the PR strategy for your new movie, yet another modern remake of Pride & Prejudice. After a run of prom queens and femme fatales, you found yourself playing the quote-on-quote "good girl" for once. After spending nearly three years curating the perfect bad girl image, complete with drunken paparazzi pics and a new man on your arm every month, Summer was determined to remake your image into one that aligned with your latest role.
You'd spent the last three weeks attending spin classes and preaching the wonders of meditation to any talk show host who would listen, and yet the public remained unconvinced. Summer felt that it was time for something bigger.
"It's your love life, I think." She looked scared.
"What love life?" you rolled your eyes, "I haven't been in love since I was twelve and convinced I would marry Justin Bieber one day."
Summer sighed, "You know what I mean. You need a relationship. A stable relationship. That lasts at least six months. And with someone who the public thinks is, let's say, wholesome."
"Six months?," you gawk, "I haven't been in a real relationship in over half a decade, and you want me to just pick someone and date them for six months."
"Well…"
"No. Not again."
"C'mon, who would you even pick?"
“Um…probably…definitely…I don't know," you huff in defeat.
"Well, that's why I have someone picked out already."
"And they've already agreed to this whole shit-show circus we're putting on?"
"More or less."
"More or less?"
"Yes. So long as you are willing. And…”
"And what?"
"Well, he asked that he gets your STD test results beforehand. But I think that was joke."
"My what?" you jump out of your chair and start pacing, "he wants my STD test results? Does he think we'll actually be sleeping together? It's fake!"
"Well, like I said, I'm pretty sure it was a joke. He also seemed somewhat unconvinced that sex was off the table," she looked sheepish, "said that he's hard to resist."
"What god-forsaken man have you picked out that charms the public with his 'wholesome' demeanor but is actually an absolute asshole?"
As the words came out of your mouth, realization brought you back to your chair. You look Summer dead in the eyes.
"No."
"Please just…"
"No." You cross your arms. "Absolutely not. In no version of reality will I even fake date that absolute piece of shit."
"But it would work so well. You're costars and his image would help clean yours up. Think of the roles."
You sat back down. The roles. Summer was dangling in front of you your precious hope that perhaps you could move on from the bimbos in action films and preppy blonde girls in teen rom-coms to movies that might get you nominated for an Oscar. Or at least a Golden Globe. It was why you had pushed for this movie, as dumb as it was, because it gave you a chance to clean up your image.
Because the reality of it all was that it was fake. It was all fake. Maybe you had actually been drunk once or twice, and maybe you had slept with two or three of the many guys you had been spotted with, but the reality was that you spent most of your evenings curled up on your couch, watching Cartoon Network reruns. The reality was that you had spent your early twenties longing for a real relationship, but to keep up your image, you never once said yes to a date that might lead to something serious.
And now you finally had the opportunity to have something at least a little closer to that reality, and that opportunity was being squandered on motherfucking Park Jimin.
Jimin's house wasn't what you expected of one of Hollywood's most eligible bachelors. You had assumed he lived amongst clean, white walls and stark, black furniture. Not this sprawling mid-century modern home with its curves and warm woods. It felt cozy in a way you never associated with the man sitting across from you.
You were at his dining room table, Summer beside you and Jimin's PR agent, Seokjin, across from her. Jimin had ever so kindly agreed to host this meeting going over the terms of your new "relationship." Summer and Seokjin were pouring over the list of planned engagements for the two of you: fake dates, premiers, award shows, and press tours. The whole works. Jimin and you were reviewing your consent forms. It was going…okay.
Some of it was easy:
"Holding hands?" Jimin asked.
"I think it would be a pretty unconvincing relationship if we can't hold hands."
"Hey now, consent is key," he poked.
God, you hated his guts. The thing was, out of everyone you had ever met, Jimin remained the most convinced of your man-eating ways, and that had created a rift between the two of you from the first time you met. He thought you were easy and unprofessional. You thought he was a snob who never bothered to get to know you. If you weren't on set, you ignored each other. The fact that you had any on-screen chemistry at all was a miracle. And now you had to go on recreating that chemistry for the next six months.
"Okay, what about hugging?"
You glared at him.
"Kissing?"
"Once again-"
"I know, I know, convincing relationship, blah, blah, blah. What about tongue? Grabbing your ass?"
"I don't think grabbing my ass is in line with the whole 'wholesome' relationship vibe we're going for here."
"But me shoving my tongue down your throat is?"
"I didn't say yes to tongue."
"But you didn't say no."
"Jimin, I swear…"
"Guys, guys, there's no need to get hostile," Seokjin interrupted, "we're trying to get you on good terms here."
"Don't look at me, she's the one getting upset," Jimin whined.
"And that has nothing at all to do with you provoking me," you shot back.
"Okay, how about this," Summer started, "we start with just hand-holding, hugging, and kissing, no tongue, and as we move through this relationship, we'll do periodic check-ins to see if we need add anything else."
You loved Summer. For all her scheming ways, she really did have her head screwed on straight. You had an agent, Georgina, but Summer was the only person on your team that you really trusted. Maybe because it was her job to know who you really were, even if it was just so that she could better turn you into someone else.
"I can agree to that," you looked at Jimin expectantly.
"Yeah, that's fine by me."
"Fantastic."
Summer and Seokjin shared a relieved look.
"Okay then. Summer and I have figured out your next couple of engagements, but there will be more to come for sure." Seokjin looked down at his computer and the agenda the two of them had concocted. "First up is a date. We were thinking maybe on Jimin's yacht. A picnic. Some swimming. Maybe a kiss or two. Sweet, innocent-"
"Wholesome," you interjected, "we know."
"Fantastic. You two can pick the exact date, but we would prefer sometime in the next week or two. We really want to get the ball rolling on this."
There was something strange to you about using such corporate language to describe a relationship, as fake as it was.
"That works for me," you say.
Jimin nods in agreement.
"Alright then, I think that concludes the meeting."
You and Summer stand up to leave. You turn to Jimin.
"I'll have my assistant contact yours?"
"Sure."
"Great."
Your stomach sank as you walked away, hoping that you could survive the next half a year without tearing each other apart on accident. Or on purpose, for that matter.
Five days later, you're sunning yourself on Jimin's yacht anchored off of Malibu. You were lounging in a periwinkle one-piece while Jimin sat across from you in board shorts and an unbuttoned tee, abs on display. His black hair had dried messily from the dip you had taken in the ocean a bit ago. You were surprised to find that your time together hadn't been unbearable. So far.
You had met Jimin at Marina del Rey in the late morning and had sailed out towards Malibu, where Seokjin and Summer had ensured there would be paparazzi waiting for you. You had spent the first hour on the boat in relative silence. There was no one to watch you and, therefore, no need to perform. All the staff on the boat had signed ironclad NDAs and were well aware of the fact this whole thing was an absolute sham.
You had anchored about two hours ago, and Jimin had immediately taken the opportunity to jump into the ocean. You tried not to be insulted that he had taken the first opportunity to put distance between you and quickly followed him into the blue.
Now, you were both relaxing on the upper deck, taking in the sun and waiting for lunch to be served. You desperately craved a beer, but Summer was worried about what it would be like if someone took yet another photo of you with alcohol in hand. Instead, you tried to strike up a conversation with Jimin. Again.
"So…," you cleared your throat, "acting."
"What about it?"
Jimin's voice was so devoid of expression that you felt cold even in the warmth of the sun.
"How'd you get into it?"
"Same way as most I suppose. I did theatre as a kid, never really stopped, when to Tisch, and here we are."
"You say that as if it's easy to get into Tisch."
Jimin just shrugged. "What about you?"
You winced. You didn't hate your backstory, but it wasn't the glamorous one people desperately wanted. It featured dropping out of community college five credits away from your Associate's and living in an apartment with four other girls also trying to make it big and who all hated you except for your current best friend, Maria. After two years of working shit customer service jobs and attending hundreds of auditions, you finally worked your way into the industry. And even then, that meant that you were lucky.
You gave Jimin a summarized version, and he nodded as if the story needed his approval. You fall back into silence. Eventually, staff appear with plates of finger food and what appear to be glasses of soda. You take a sip and sigh when rum burns your tongue. Summer had planned the menu and clearly had taken mercy on you.
Jimin moved to sit beside you as you ate. Seokjin had suggested finger food so that you could feed each other. Personally, you felt nauseous at the idea, but you were left with increasingly little input on the nature of this relationship.
Jimin placed an arm around your back, and you suddenly became conscious of how close you had gotten to the shore. You took a subtle peak to the side, and sure enough, you caught a glance of a camera flashing in your direction. With a small sigh, you moved in closer to Jimin. Heat seared into your thigh where he pressed into you.
He grabbed a crostini and looked at you expectantly.
"What?" you snarked.
You knew what he wanted but had no desire to make it easy for him.
"Open your mouth."
"I think it's a little early in the relationship for you to be demanding head like this."
Jimin threw his head back in exasperation.
"For fuck's sake, will you just cooperate? This is never gonna work if you don't even try to pretend to like me."
"Oh because pretending is so easy for you?"
"Well I am an actor."
"So am I."
"Well then act."
You glared but then slightly opened your mouth in acquiescence. Jimin grinned at your obedience and brought the crostini closer so that you could take a bite. You closed your eyes as you chewed, upset with just how good the food was. You must have made a sound because when you opened your eyes, Jimin was staring at you. You matched his gaze as he took the other half of the crostini in his mouth. The air suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and despite only having a few sips of your drink, you felt tipsy.
The plain truth of it was--despite how much you despised his personality--you would be insane to deny how attractive Jimin was. His eyes could charm a cobra, and his jawline could cleave diamonds. His arm was strong around you, and for the briefest of moments, you wondered what it would be like to ride his muscular thighs.
Jimin seemed equally as caught up as you, and it took more effort than you cared for to remember that this was all an act. It was the same thing you had spent doing for six weeks on a set. His eyes flickered down to your lips before coming back to your gaze. Your stomach twisted, and your thighs clenched slightly. His arm around you pulled you closer.
You were going to kiss. This was preplanned, but you had to admit, you had expected something more innocent. A quick peck. This was heated. A brief glimmer of worry bounced through you as you wondered if this wouldn't be wholesome enough. The thought evaporated as quickly as it had appeared.
You felt his face get closer to yours. You had kissed before; there was no way around it, playing romantic opposites. But those had been on film sets where everything reeked of artificiality. It had never felt reel. But this, this was slightly more real. You couldn't feel the eyes watching you. His other hand came to grab your waist, and before you could so much as blink, his lips captured yours.
Despite yourself, your arms came up to wrap around him, hand coming to the back of his neck to pull him into you. He smirked at your response. You thought you could hear a low chuckle rumble from him. And then, as quickly as he had kissed you, he pulled away.
"Now, that was some good acting, babe."
It took everything in you not to put a boat length's worth of space between the two of you, but you didn't want to give up the ruse you had just sacrificed your dignity to create. Instead, you looked up into his eyes, trying not to notice how they glowed golden in the sun.
"I could say the same, Park. You even managed not to cum in your pants, I'm impressed."
"It takes a lot more than that to make me cum in my pants, darling."
He complimented his statement with a squeeze of your thigh. You jumped.
"Goddamn you, Jimin. I swear to God-"
"Careful now, not sure what the press will make of you fighting with me on our first date."
You glared at him but shut your mouth. To your annoyance, he dipped down and pecked your lips again, surely only to infuriate you further. You were about to start lecturing him again when the Captain came to tell you that you were returning to the marina.
His interruption left the deck in a state of awkward silence. You sat rigid next to each other until you were far enough away from any cameras to separate entirely.
After the yacht date came your first public engagement: the preview for your film. It was a relatively small event, not even really official. You wore a simple sage green sundress with a tight bust and a loose skirt that landed on your mid-thigh. Jimin wore a loose orange tee and dark, straight-leg jeans. At a meeting the afternoon before, you had agreed that he could put his arm around your waist and kiss your cheek. You said no to sitting in his lap unless it was absolutely necessary.
You had arrived in the same car, the small crowd roaring as Jimin pulled you out of the car behind him, your hand caught in his. His arm instantly found your waist, guiding you past the flashing cameras, smiling and waiving the whole time. You did your best to keep up with his cheerful, charismatic appearance.
Once inside the theatre and out of the public's eye, Jimin allowed some distance to form between the two of you. While your costars and the crew had not been informed of the exact nature of your and Jimin's relationship, they were all Hollywood veterans and scent a PR moment easily enough. Still, neither of you let pretenses drop entirely. During the screening, you kept your body angled towards his and even dropped your head onto his shoulder. In response, he rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand. It was the kind of subtle detail that reminded you of how good an actor Jimin was.
In truth, Jimin didn't really need to do movies like these. He had already won an Oscar and been nominated for a handful more. He likely had another one coming this award season. But the truth of Hollywood was that it was these corny, blockbuster-type movies that brought in the cash. And as much as any actor would loathe to admit it, their craft could absolutely be bought for the right price.
After the movie was over, you followed Jimin back into the car to head to an afterparty at the director's house in Beverly Hills. You hadn't quite made it big enough for the 90210 zip code, and you always felt slightly out of place when you visited. The house the party was at was one of those Mediterranean-looking goliaths. The inside was lit in a soft yellow glow that filtered through marijuana smoke and left behind a hazy, romantic filter. Jimin almost looked like he was sparkling.
He briefly left you alone in the living room before reappearing with two martinis. He handed you one. You took it. He held out his own.
"Cheers," he said.
"Cheers."
Your glasses clinked. The alcohol left a cool burn down your throat. Jimin watched your throat as it moved. You felt faint.
"Hi guys, fantastic movie!" Summer's voice broke your trance. You turned to see her and Seokjin approaching.
"You don't have to lie to me, Summer," you grin, "I'm not the general public."
Now, it was Jimin's turn to laugh. "You've got some big dreams for us, Summer."
The night slipped away into a cozy blur. You were sitting next to Jimin on a couch on some patio. A fire crackled in a pit nearby. His arm had found its way around your back. The two of you were sharing a joint with Summer and Seokjin. She had given you the okay, given that there was no shot of the paps finding you here.
The higher you got, the more you craved Jimin's body heat. You were floating higher and higher and soon forgot that you were supposed to despise the man sitting next to you. You were so high, you didn't even notice Seokjin and Summer disappear. And then, all at once, it was just you and Jimin.
His eyes found yours as he raised the joint to his mouth, taking in a long pull. Once again, his arm was around your waist, pulling you into him, chest to chest. Your faces inched closer together until he was close enough to exhale into your waiting open mouth. He hesitated only momentarily before he kissed you, this time wasting no time biting your bottom lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth when you gasped.
The kiss was slow and yet somehow rushed. Hungry. He pulled you on top of him, landing on his hardening length. You rutted into him, and he groaned, one hand spreading across your upper back and the other grabbing your hip, pulling you into him until there was no space left between your bodies. You wanted to devour him, and judging from his groans, he wanted to devour you, too.
You pulled away to breathe, and all at once, your exhaustion hit you like a train. Jimin himself looked on the brink of sleep, his red-rimmed eyes nearly closed. You collapsed down on top of him, and before you knew it, you were asleep.
The next morning, you woke alone on the couch you had fallen asleep on. You quickly found your clutch and your phone, calling for a driver to pick you up. You got home and immediately took a shower. The hot water nearly scalded your naked skin, leaving it flushed. The night before lingered in a chopped-up blur. You remember talking to Summer and drinking and smoking. And kissing. You remembered Jimin's lips on yours and his hands digging into your skin.
You shuddered, trying to ignore the way your heart began to race at just the thought of his touch. And then came a wave of anxiety, wondering what Jimin thought of you. Wondering what his intentions were. Wondering where you now stood.
You turned off the water and wrapped yourself up in a fluffy towel. After drying and combing your hair, you made your way to your room, where you promptly dropped down onto your bed. Your phone lay a foot away from you. You tried to compose a text to Jimin that didn't leave you looking desperate or stupid.
Before you could be subsumed by your thoughts entirely, your phone screen lit up with a call from the man himself. You counted to five in your head before picking up.
"Hello?"
"Hey."
"Hey."
"So…," he sounded nervous.
"Last night?"
"Yeah."
"Look…" you trailed off, mind reeling, trying to come up with an adequate sentence. "It's my fault." Fuck, where were you going with this? "I get a little, well, let's say heated, when I get high. So my apologies. I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable."
Silence held for several painful seconds. Then Jimin sighed.
"Yeah, no, you're okay. It, uh, takes two to tango, but definitely maybe we leave the weed out in the future, yeah?"
"Yeah. Sure. Good idea."
"Well…" Jimin trailed off.
"I've got to go," you rushed out, "meeting with my agent."
In truth, you had absolutely no plans for the whole rest of your day, but for some reason, you couldn't stand the idea of Jimin being the one to hang up on you.
"Sure, see you soon."
"See ya."
The line went dead. Something sank in your stomach, leaving you mildly nauseous. It's fine, you thought, it was just the weed. You can't stand the man. No need to worry. Just back to the ruse. Or so you tried to convince yourself.
The next month swirled past you. You and Jimin's relationship ramped up. People were buying it, despite how obvious you felt it was. They want it too much, Summer had told you. The more dates you went on with Jimin, the less you hated the idea of him. It was hard to despise someone you spent so much time pretending to like.
It didn't hurt that Jimin was now forced to always be kind to you. While you knew deep down his displays of affection were false, you had to admit there was a part of you that enjoyed pretending like it was all real. That, for once, someone had deemed you worthy of time and attention.
After a string of shared engagements during the US press tour, you are finally allowed a reprieve while Jimin is once again forced under the stage lights of some late-night show. You watched from the comfort of a hotel bed in New York City, curled up with a pint of Ben and Jerry's.
Jimin looked good. He was smiling in yet another baggy tee and pair of jeans, legs spread like he owned the place. The host started off with some questions about the movie and the filming process, but it wasn't long before he moved on to talk about your relationship. This was big. It was the first time either of you were going to officially confirm it.
What you didn't expect was the host to follow it up with a question about how Jimin felt about your past. Suddenly, you felt much too warm as you watched Jimin's cheeks redden and his eyes flash with something that looked like irritation. His jaw subtly clicked, and he took a breath before answering.
"I find that question offensive quite frankly." Your stomach flipped. "I don't see what her past should matter to me. She's a grown woman, she do what she wants. Now, she's with me, and we're both happy. That's all that matters."
The host offered a brief apology before moving on to ask Jimin about his other recent movie, the one he was supposed to get an Oscar for. You could barely hear the TV over the blood rushing in your ears. You groped for your phone in the blankets beside you, gritting your teeth as you opened your socials.
It was what you expected. Some people were freaking out about Jimin confirming your relationship. Others were praising him for defending you. But through it all was the dark current of people who had nothing better to do than offer you their criticism. The vitriol. Words organized to tear you down. Slut. Whore. Easy. Even though it was all fake, it still stung. You got lost, scrolling through it all, slowly allowing yourself to go numb. You barely even heard the knock on the door.
You shook yourself out of your stupor and crawled out of the bed. You opened to find Jimin standing before you. His hair was damp from a shower. He wore a black hoodie and sweats.
"Can I come in?"
You opened the door wider to make space for him to enter. He brushed past you. You shut the door behind him and followed him into the room. He took a seat on your bed, hunching over to rest his elbows on his knees. You leaned against the dresser, his presence making you slightly uneasy. He glanced up at you.
"You watched?" His voice was soft and scratchy.
You nodded.
"How are you feeling?"
You shrugged.
"Your non-verbal answers are not very convincing."
You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out.
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't do anything."
"But that guy was an absolute ass."
"Well, the internet seems to think his point is valid."
Jimin's eyebrows shot up, "You went online?"
You looked at the ground in shame. Any public figure knows that social media is a one-way ticket to clobbering your self-esteem.
"I'm not judging," Jimin reassures you, "I'm just surprised. I know you know this, but you shouldn't listen those idiots."
"I'd like to remind you that it was not long ago that you seemed to share their opinion."
Jimin looked sheepish. You sat in silence. Finally, you opened your mouth, and the words were out before you could stop them.
"None of it's true, you know."
"What?"
"The partying, the guys, the booze, the whole bad girl thing. It's not true. It's just as much an image as this whole rodeo is."
When you could finally meet his eyes, you found Jimin looking at you as if he might throw up. You laughed awkwardly.
"Yeah. I, um, I just thought maybe it would be good for you to know."
Jimin nodded and straightened his face, "Yeah. Makes sense. Thanks."
He stands up and moves toward the door.
"I'm gonna go to bed."
"Yeah."
"Take care of yourself."
He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't and turns and leaves.
From New York, the cast flies across the Atlantic for the European leg of the press tour. You and Jimin kept up appearances the whole time, shopping together at Piccadilly Circus in London and feeding each other pizza in Rome. Your last stop was Paris, and to celebrate the end of the tour and the upcoming premiere of the film, you all head out to a club.
It was one of those underground places: humid and dark except for the colored lights and a disco ball, which made it all feel like a dream. The bass from a house remix of some pop song thunders through your body as you sway on the dance floor. You and a couple of cast members slipped away to share a joint.
You knew that it was probably a bad idea, given what happened the last time you had gotten high, but you felt like the night demanded it. You felt hot in your little black dress, and for once, you weren't thinking about your reputation.
Europe had been a new world for you. Ever since your admission in New York, there was a strange sense of ease between the two of you. You barely had to think when it came to pretending he was yours. It became second nature to grab his hand or kiss his cheek. The space next to you felt cold when he wasn't there to occupy it.
You returned to the sweaty club. Jimin was sitting at a table talking to a costar. He looked beautiful in the light, hair pushed off his forehead, collarbone peeking out from the loose, button-down draping off of him. He looked up and caught your eye before glancing back to his conversation partner. You lost sight of him as you made your way onto the dance floor, letting the drugs and the music melt away any stress you had ever felt.
A hand grabbed your waste, fingerprints searing through the silk of your dress. Then he was behind you, and you could smell the familiar spice of his cologne, and you were gone. An arm came up to grab the back of his neck as your hips ground back into his, swaying to the sultry beat of the song. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered your name in the dark.
You shivered and felt your panties turn damp. Your bodies moved together, Jimin's hand on your hip guiding you along the rhythm. His other hand rested warm on your bare thigh, and his lips found your neck. Your head collapsed back onto his shoulder, ecstasy running from your head to your toes, every nerve on fire.
The song faded into a new one, and Jimin's voice danced along the curve of your ear.
"Follow me."
You didn't question him once; let him take your hand and drag you off the dance floor. You blinked slowly as he pulled you to an alcove and then through a door, and suddenly, you were in a bathroom, dark except for a sconce painting the room in a purple-ish-pink. You could barely focus on Jimin before he had you pressed against the wall, lips attacking yours relentlessly.
You moaned shamelessly, hands finding his hair and a leg coming up to wrap around his hip. You pulled him in close, back arching up to meet him. You were voracious. You didn't know if you wanted to consume him or if you wanted him to consume you.
"Fuck, baby, goddamn."
Jimin's words came out as groans. His hands found the hem of your dress, and you barely even noticed yourself pleading with him to move them higher. To touch you where you were on fire.
You felt your eyes water as the heat of his touch moved to the band of your panties, and then his fingers were on your clit, and he swallowed your moan in a kiss to prevent the whole club from hearing your pleasure.
"Yeah, baby?" He panted in your ear. "That feel good?"
You whined.
"You feel so fucking wet for me, so fucking perfect. Been dreaming about this pussy. It's been haunting me, goddamn it baby."
He pulled his fingers away, and you nearly sobbed. Barely conscious of your surroundings, you acquiesced as he moved you to the sink, legs spread and dangling over the edge. Jimin looked up at you as he dropped to his knees. He pulled your legs over his shoulders. You threw your head back once more as he peppered kisses up the inside of your thighs, whispering small praises the whole way.
As he approached your center, he pulled away. You looked down at him. He moved in closer to your heat and inhaled. You cried out.
"Jimin, please, oh my god, do something. Anything. Oh my god."
"Yeah baby, want me to taste you? You smell so good. So ready for me. All for me."
The last sentence came out under his breath, like a prayer, as he pulled one hand away from holding your leg to push your panties to the side. You capitulated entirely when his tongue licked from your opening to your clit, dragging your wetness along with it. Wanton noises began to pour from your mouth when he attacked your clit in full force. Your body stopped being yours and began to melt into a sea of pleasure.
You wanted it to last. You wanted to stay forever wrapped in the intimate ecstasy that had filled the bathroom and nearly suffocated you. Jimin felt like heaven between your legs, and you began to pray to Gods that you didn't believe existed that he would never leave.
For his part, he kept dropping praise for you between attacks on your pussy.
"I'm so fucking hard, goddamnit. I want to fuck you so bad, but not here. Need you to scream my name when I fuck you. When I paint your pretty pussy white." Tears fell down your cheeks, back arched. "Shit baby, you know I'm gonna have to mark you as mine."
Pleasure shot up your spine, and you writhed in his grip as you finally found your peak. Your mouth was open in a silent scream while Jimin kept on dutifully licking you through the waves of your high. As you came down, you felt him crawl up your body, arms coming to wrap around your shaking torso and lips greeting yours.
You tasted yourself on his tongue as he licked into you. You moved to touch him through his jeans, cock pushing desperately against the fabric. His hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you.
"Not here," he whispered, "not here."
You looked up at him, searching his eyes. Even in the dim light, you could see just how blown out his pupils were. How much he wanted you. How much he was holding himself back from fucking you right here.
You acquiesced and once again let him pull you through the club. He made an excuse for you both to the people you had come with, and then you were out in the cool air of the Paris night. Your high was crashing, and as much as you still wanted Jimin, the thought did little to prevent you from drifting off in his shoulder in the backseat of the town car.
You blinked awake, sunlight heating up a hotel room that wasn't yours. You felt hot, and it took you a moment to recognize that a body was pressed up behind you, arm tight around your middle. The sound of Jimin's soft breath lulled you into a sleepy haze.
You were in a T-shirt that was far too large for you. His, you assumed. Your panties clung to you, still wet from his ministrations the night before. The heat of his chest on your back suggested he was shirtless. He stirred behind you. You rolled over in his arms to find his eyes open.
"Hi," you whispered.
"Hi."
"So…"
"Last night."
You looked in his eyes, then breathed truth.
"It wasn't the weed this time."
He kissed you. Slow but hard, like he was afraid you would disappear. He slowly rolled on top of you, his figure crowding yours, covering as much of you as he could. You pulled away from him, searching his eyes.
"It wasn't the weed last time either, was it?"
His words vibrated through you, and no part of you could say no to him. No part of you wanted to say no to him. Instead, you just nodded before pulling him back into you. His hands moved up your torso, under your shirt, while his lips embraced yours. His fingertips brushed the underside of your breasts, and you arched into his touch.
Pushing your shirt out of his way, his lips came down to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking gently while his hand came up to grope the other. Even with the weed gone, Jimin's touch was something euphoric. It was possessive without being rough. Soft, yet determined.
He grinded against you, his hard length catching against your core, eliciting a high-pitched whine from your mouth.
"Oh fuck, please moan for me baby." He groaned. "Be as loud as you need to. Let the whole hotel hear you."
His voice was rough and pitched like he was struggling to hold onto his self-control. You felt his fingers trail down your sides before they were gripping your underwear and pulling them down your legs. You maneuvered your body to help them off before spreading your legs, opening yourself up for him.
The tepid air of the air-conditioned hotel room highlighted just how wet you were, while the vulnerability of being so spread left you dripping even more. Jimin groaned, kneeling before you. He was wearing his jeans from the night before, and his hand came down to his zipper while he drank in the sight of you.
"Do you know what the fuck you do to me?" The sound of his zipper crackled through the room like lightning. "Do you know what you have been doing to me? God, you make me feel like I can't breathe. Like if I can't sink into you at any given moment, I'm going to die."
Your fingers found their way to your clit, rubbing small circles as you took in his words.
"Fuck baby, you make me want to do desperate, heinous things to you. I want to mark you for the whole world. Prove to them you belong to me. None of those other men, whether you fucked them or not, are good enough. I'm not even good enough."
Your fingers rubbed faster, and you moaned his name when he finally pulled his cock free, naked beneath his jeans. He stroked it while he watched you touch yourself, eyes glued to your pussy.
"But your gonna let me have you, aren't you baby? I'm not good enough for you, but you gonna let me have you anyway. Because your so good for me."
You nodded vigorously. He dropped his cock and leaned over you, taking your lips in his once more. You felt his tip brush over your pussy lips as he grinded into you, catching slightly on your opening. He mumbled something in your ear, but you were too lost in sensation.
He pulled away and repeated himself, "Protection?"
You shook your head.
"I'm on the pill."
Some part of you couldn't stand the thought of something coming between you and him. You needed him bare inside you. Jimin's eyes flashed at your response before he grabbed himself in his hand and sunk inside you.
You moaned in synchronicity as he spread you open. You felt full as your legs came to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper in you.
"Oh god, Jimin, I'm so fucking full of you, oh my god."
Jimin nearly careened at your words, kissing you desperately while his hands tangled themselves in your hair. His hips began to pump more desperately. You pressed your pelvis up into him, pussy clenching as his pubic hair tickled your clit. The room filled with the sounds of your pleasure. His name began to fall from your lips as you felt a knot begin to build inside you. Jimin was seemingly doing no better. The feeling of your nails digging into his back brought more filth from his lips.
"Are you gonna let me cum in you baby? Gonna let me mark you inside out. Make you so full of me. Carry me around inside you. Fuck, oh my god, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock."
You closed your eyes and let his words paint pictures. You pictured yourself full of him. Imagined what it would feel like to feel him drip from you. Your mind drifted, and then you imagined yourself full of him in a different way. Stomach round. Your breath hitched, you shouted his name, and then you came, trying not to think too much about the images sending you over the edge.
Jimin nearly choked at the sensation of you cumming around his cock, needing little encouragement to spill inside you, your name dripping from his lips like a prayer.
You both stilled, his forehead resting against yours. You could feel him inside you still, pulsing slightly. Or was that you? You weren't sure. You felt boneless. You felt him whisper words, but sleep was once again coming to take you away.
When you awoke again, Jimin was sitting out on the balcony, sipping on a cup of coffee and scrolling through his phone. You sat up and looked around for your belongings. You found your purse on the bedside table and took out your phone. You saw several texts from your agent and some of the people from last night but quickly ignored them when you noticed the time. You were going to be late for your flight home.
You quickly rolled out of bed and padded over to Jimin. You were slightly unsure how to approach him, but the smile he offered you put you at ease.
"Um, I have to get going. I have my flight."
"Right, yeah, absolutely."
"I'll see you back state-side?"
You and Jimin were taking separate flights, as he was staying a few extra days to go visit a friend in the French countryside.
"Yeah. Absolutely. Are you sure I can't get you a coffee or something to eat before you go?"
You shook your head. You wanted to kiss him, but something stopped you. Instead, you offered him a smile before returning to your own room.
It was a while before you saw him again. Both of your schedules were hectic, and the next time you saw each other was at the movie premiere. The car taking you picked him up first, and when you joined him in the backseat, you could immediately tell something was off.
He glanced up from his phone when you got in and gave you a small smile before returning to the screen. You tried not to think anything of it. You spent the duration of the car ride in silence. You desperately wanted to say something, but no words came to you.
You managed to smile and wave well enough for the red carpet, trying not to compare how light his touch on your waist was compared to before. You were certain something had changed, and not in the way you had hoped. The movie itself passed by all too quickly and still not soon enough for your liking before you were once again shepherded into the back of the car to go to the official afterparty.
This time, you couldn't take the silence. You rolled up the divide between the backseat and the driver and then turned to face Jimin.
"What's wrong?"
Jimin looked at you, emotionless.
"Nothing's wrong."
"Don't bullshit me, Jimin."
"I'm not."
You raised an eyebrow. He sighed.
"Please just leave it alone."
"That's not fair, Jimin. You don't get to have sex with me—pretty intense sex at that—and then ignore me like this."
He winced and then turned off his phone. His fingers tapped his thigh. He signed again.
"You're right."
You swallowed nervously, bravery gone and now replaced with a hollowing fear of what he was going to say.
"I've not been honest with you," he squirmed in his seat, "what we did…it shouldn't have…I shouldn't have done that."
He looked at you.
"Not because of anything you did. I want you to understand that. You haven't done anything wrong. I fucked up."
Your heart was slowly sinking into your stomach.
"I have a girlfriend."
The words rang out into the silent car. Your body froze, muscles cramped up. No thoughts could form in your brain.
"No one really knows about her, and we like it that way. Keeps her from dealing with the bullshit all of this fame comes with."
Words were falling from his mouth now like he couldn't stop. And you wanted him to so desperately. Stop, that is.
"And I do genuinely like you. I always have. That's why I was such an asshat to you to start off with. Not because of your reputation, but because I wanted you. Badly. And I shouldn't have wanted you. I shouldn't want you now."
Tears were starting to form in your eyes. He kept going.
"And I should never have agreed to this arrangement. I was enabling myself. Setting myself up to do something stupid."
He paused, and you finally found your voice.
"Does she know?"
Jimin's eyes dropped to his lap.
"No. And I would like to keep it that way. I can't sleep with you again. I'm willing to finish out the terms of the PR campaign, she's agreed to that, but that's all I can offer you."
He finally went quiet. He looked at you like he was hoping you would say something to make it all better. Fuck that. You turned away. Watched the city lights blur past your window. Tried to find some thought that would stop your heart from shattering into a million pieces.
summary: You’re an up-and-coming actress known for playing cheerleaders and femme fatales in a series of successful teen blockbusters. With your roles comes a reputation: that of a girl who likes to have fun between the sheets. Your latest film is ramping up to be the movie of the summer, but this time you’re playing a sweet girl-next-door and your love interest is played by the beloved Park Jimin. To sell the role, your PR manager has set you up in a fake relationship with Jimin, who is only too aware of the good times you are known for.
warnings: misogyny in the film industry, degrading language (non sexual), infidelity, intoxication, drug usage (weed), smut: kissing, dry humping, oral (fem. receiving), sex acts while intoxicated, p in v sex, cream pie, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), minor breeding kink
a/n: there is some general talking down of what I would describe as rom-coms/chick flicks in this fic that do no represent my actual feelings about these genres, as I think some the best movies ever made fall into those genres. also happy belated lorde album release day to all who celebrate!
| mlist | series mlist |
HERE'S HOW IT BEGAN. In an over-air-conditioned office on the twelfth floor of a PR firm in Santa Monica. You were sat in a chair that looked like it belonged in the MoMA and felt like it belonged in a thirteenth-century torture chamber. Summer, your PR manager, sat across from you, legs crossed under her glass desk. She looked pensive.
You were meeting to discuss the PR strategy for your new movie, yet another modern remake of Pride & Prejudice. After a run of prom queens and femme fatales, you found yourself playing the quote-on-quote "good girl" for once. After spending nearly three years curating the perfect bad girl image, complete with drunken paparazzi pics and a new man on your arm every month, Summer was determined to remake your image into one that aligned with your latest role.
You'd spent the last three weeks attending spin classes and preaching the wonders of meditation to any talk show host who would listen, and yet the public remained unconvinced. Summer felt that it was time for something bigger.
"It's your love life, I think." She looked scared.
"What love life?" you rolled your eyes, "I haven't been in love since I was twelve and convinced I would marry Justin Bieber one day."
Summer sighed, "You know what I mean. You need a relationship. A stable relationship. That lasts at least six months. And with someone who the public thinks is, let's say, wholesome."
"Six months?," you gawk, "I haven't been in a real relationship in over half a decade, and you want me to just pick someone and date them for six months."
"Well…"
"No. Not again."
"C'mon, who would you even pick?"
“Um…probably…definitely…I don't know," you huff in defeat.
"Well, that's why I have someone picked out already."
"And they've already agreed to this whole shit-show circus we're putting on?"
"More or less."
"More or less?"
"Yes. So long as you are willing. And…”
"And what?"
"Well, he asked that he gets your STD test results beforehand. But I think that was joke."
"My what?" you jump out of your chair and start pacing, "he wants my STD test results? Does he think we'll actually be sleeping together? It's fake!"
"Well, like I said, I'm pretty sure it was a joke. He also seemed somewhat unconvinced that sex was off the table," she looked sheepish, "said that he's hard to resist."
"What god-forsaken man have you picked out that charms the public with his 'wholesome' demeanor but is actually an absolute asshole?"
As the words came out of your mouth, realization brought you back to your chair. You look Summer dead in the eyes.
"No."
"Please just…"
"No." You cross your arms. "Absolutely not. In no version of reality will I even fake date that absolute piece of shit."
"But it would work so well. You're costars and his image would help clean yours up. Think of the roles."
You sat back down. The roles. Summer was dangling in front of you your precious hope that perhaps you could move on from the bimbos in action films and preppy blonde girls in teen rom-coms to movies that might get you nominated for an Oscar. Or at least a Golden Globe. It was why you had pushed for this movie, as dumb as it was, because it gave you a chance to clean up your image.
Because the reality of it all was that it was fake. It was all fake. Maybe you had actually been drunk once or twice, and maybe you had slept with two or three of the many guys you had been spotted with, but the reality was that you spent most of your evenings curled up on your couch, watching Cartoon Network reruns. The reality was that you had spent your early twenties longing for a real relationship, but to keep up your image, you never once said yes to a date that might lead to something serious.
And now you finally had the opportunity to have something at least a little closer to that reality, and that opportunity was being squandered on motherfucking Park Jimin.
Jimin's house wasn't what you expected of one of Hollywood's most eligible bachelors. You had assumed he lived amongst clean, white walls and stark, black furniture. Not this sprawling mid-century modern home with its curves and warm woods. It felt cozy in a way you never associated with the man sitting across from you.
You were at his dining room table, Summer beside you and Jimin's PR agent, Seokjin, across from her. Jimin had ever so kindly agreed to host this meeting going over the terms of your new "relationship." Summer and Seokjin were pouring over the list of planned engagements for the two of you: fake dates, premiers, award shows, and press tours. The whole works. Jimin and you were reviewing your consent forms. It was going…okay.
Some of it was easy:
"Holding hands?" Jimin asked.
"I think it would be a pretty unconvincing relationship if we can't hold hands."
"Hey now, consent is key," he poked.
God, you hated his guts. The thing was, out of everyone you had ever met, Jimin remained the most convinced of your man-eating ways, and that had created a rift between the two of you from the first time you met. He thought you were easy and unprofessional. You thought he was a snob who never bothered to get to know you. If you weren't on set, you ignored each other. The fact that you had any on-screen chemistry at all was a miracle. And now you had to go on recreating that chemistry for the next six months.
"Okay, what about hugging?"
You glared at him.
"Kissing?"
"Once again-"
"I know, I know, convincing relationship, blah, blah, blah. What about tongue? Grabbing your ass?"
"I don't think grabbing my ass is in line with the whole 'wholesome' relationship vibe we're going for here."
"But me shoving my tongue down your throat is?"
"I didn't say yes to tongue."
"But you didn't say no."
"Jimin, I swear…"
"Guys, guys, there's no need to get hostile," Seokjin interrupted, "we're trying to get you on good terms here."
"Don't look at me, she's the one getting upset," Jimin whined.
"And that has nothing at all to do with you provoking me," you shot back.
"Okay, how about this," Summer started, "we start with just hand-holding, hugging, and kissing, no tongue, and as we move through this relationship, we'll do periodic check-ins to see if we need add anything else."
You loved Summer. For all her scheming ways, she really did have her head screwed on straight. You had an agent, Georgina, but Summer was the only person on your team that you really trusted. Maybe because it was her job to know who you really were, even if it was just so that she could better turn you into someone else.
"I can agree to that," you looked at Jimin expectantly.
"Yeah, that's fine by me."
"Fantastic."
Summer and Seokjin shared a relieved look.
"Okay then. Summer and I have figured out your next couple of engagements, but there will be more to come for sure." Seokjin looked down at his computer and the agenda the two of them had concocted. "First up is a date. We were thinking maybe on Jimin's yacht. A picnic. Some swimming. Maybe a kiss or two. Sweet, innocent-"
"Wholesome," you interjected, "we know."
"Fantastic. You two can pick the exact date, but we would prefer sometime in the next week or two. We really want to get the ball rolling on this."
There was something strange to you about using such corporate language to describe a relationship, as fake as it was.
"That works for me," you say.
Jimin nods in agreement.
"Alright then, I think that concludes the meeting."
You and Summer stand up to leave. You turn to Jimin.
"I'll have my assistant contact yours?"
"Sure."
"Great."
Your stomach sank as you walked away, hoping that you could survive the next half a year without tearing each other apart on accident. Or on purpose, for that matter.
Five days later, you're sunning yourself on Jimin's yacht anchored off of Malibu. You were lounging in a periwinkle one-piece while Jimin sat across from you in board shorts and an unbuttoned tee, abs on display. His black hair had dried messily from the dip you had taken in the ocean a bit ago. You were surprised to find that your time together hadn't been unbearable. So far.
You had met Jimin at Marina del Rey in the late morning and had sailed out towards Malibu, where Seokjin and Summer had ensured there would be paparazzi waiting for you. You had spent the first hour on the boat in relative silence. There was no one to watch you and, therefore, no need to perform. All the staff on the boat had signed ironclad NDAs and were well aware of the fact this whole thing was an absolute sham.
You had anchored about two hours ago, and Jimin had immediately taken the opportunity to jump into the ocean. You tried not to be insulted that he had taken the first opportunity to put distance between you and quickly followed him into the blue.
Now, you were both relaxing on the upper deck, taking in the sun and waiting for lunch to be served. You desperately craved a beer, but Summer was worried about what it would be like if someone took yet another photo of you with alcohol in hand. Instead, you tried to strike up a conversation with Jimin. Again.
"So…," you cleared your throat, "acting."
"What about it?"
Jimin's voice was so devoid of expression that you felt cold even in the warmth of the sun.
"How'd you get into it?"
"Same way as most I suppose. I did theatre as a kid, never really stopped, when to Tisch, and here we are."
"You say that as if it's easy to get into Tisch."
Jimin just shrugged. "What about you?"
You winced. You didn't hate your backstory, but it wasn't the glamorous one people desperately wanted. It featured dropping out of community college five credits away from your Associate's and living in an apartment with four other girls also trying to make it big and who all hated you except for your current best friend, Maria. After two years of working shit customer service jobs and attending hundreds of auditions, you finally worked your way into the industry. And even then, that meant that you were lucky.
You gave Jimin a summarized version, and he nodded as if the story needed his approval. You fall back into silence. Eventually, staff appear with plates of finger food and what appear to be glasses of soda. You take a sip and sigh when rum burns your tongue. Summer had planned the menu and clearly had taken mercy on you.
Jimin moved to sit beside you as you ate. Seokjin had suggested finger food so that you could feed each other. Personally, you felt nauseous at the idea, but you were left with increasingly little input on the nature of this relationship.
Jimin placed an arm around your back, and you suddenly became conscious of how close you had gotten to the shore. You took a subtle peak to the side, and sure enough, you caught a glance of a camera flashing in your direction. With a small sigh, you moved in closer to Jimin. Heat seared into your thigh where he pressed into you.
He grabbed a crostini and looked at you expectantly.
"What?" you snarked.
You knew what he wanted but had no desire to make it easy for him.
"Open your mouth."
"I think it's a little early in the relationship for you to be demanding head like this."
Jimin threw his head back in exasperation.
"For fuck's sake, will you just cooperate? This is never gonna work if you don't even try to pretend to like me."
"Oh because pretending is so easy for you?"
"Well I am an actor."
"So am I."
"Well then act."
You glared but then slightly opened your mouth in acquiescence. Jimin grinned at your obedience and brought the crostini closer so that you could take a bite. You closed your eyes as you chewed, upset with just how good the food was. You must have made a sound because when you opened your eyes, Jimin was staring at you. You matched his gaze as he took the other half of the crostini in his mouth. The air suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and despite only having a few sips of your drink, you felt tipsy.
The plain truth of it was--despite how much you despised his personality--you would be insane to deny how attractive Jimin was. His eyes could charm a cobra, and his jawline could cleave diamonds. His arm was strong around you, and for the briefest of moments, you wondered what it would be like to ride his muscular thighs.
Jimin seemed equally as caught up as you, and it took more effort than you cared for to remember that this was all an act. It was the same thing you had spent doing for six weeks on a set. His eyes flickered down to your lips before coming back to your gaze. Your stomach twisted, and your thighs clenched slightly. His arm around you pulled you closer.
You were going to kiss. This was preplanned, but you had to admit, you had expected something more innocent. A quick peck. This was heated. A brief glimmer of worry bounced through you as you wondered if this wouldn't be wholesome enough. The thought evaporated as quickly as it had appeared.
You felt his face get closer to yours. You had kissed before; there was no way around it, playing romantic opposites. But those had been on film sets where everything reeked of artificiality. It had never felt reel. But this, this was slightly more real. You couldn't feel the eyes watching you. His other hand came to grab your waist, and before you could so much as blink, his lips captured yours.
Despite yourself, your arms came up to wrap around him, hand coming to the back of his neck to pull him into you. He smirked at your response. You thought you could hear a low chuckle rumble from him. And then, as quickly as he had kissed you, he pulled away.
"Now, that was some good acting, babe."
It took everything in you not to put a boat length's worth of space between the two of you, but you didn't want to give up the ruse you had just sacrificed your dignity to create. Instead, you looked up into his eyes, trying not to notice how they glowed golden in the sun.
"I could say the same, Park. You even managed not to cum in your pants, I'm impressed."
"It takes a lot more than that to make me cum in my pants, darling."
He complimented his statement with a squeeze of your thigh. You jumped.
"Goddamn you, Jimin. I swear to God-"
"Careful now, not sure what the press will make of you fighting with me on our first date."
You glared at him but shut your mouth. To your annoyance, he dipped down and pecked your lips again, surely only to infuriate you further. You were about to start lecturing him again when the Captain came to tell you that you were returning to the marina.
His interruption left the deck in a state of awkward silence. You sat rigid next to each other until you were far enough away from any cameras to separate entirely.
After the yacht date came your first public engagement: the preview for your film. It was a relatively small event, not even really official. You wore a simple sage green sundress with a tight bust and a loose skirt that landed on your mid-thigh. Jimin wore a loose orange tee and dark, straight-leg jeans. At a meeting the afternoon before, you had agreed that he could put his arm around your waist and kiss your cheek. You said no to sitting in his lap unless it was absolutely necessary.
You had arrived in the same car, the small crowd roaring as Jimin pulled you out of the car behind him, your hand caught in his. His arm instantly found your waist, guiding you past the flashing cameras, smiling and waiving the whole time. You did your best to keep up with his cheerful, charismatic appearance.
Once inside the theatre and out of the public's eye, Jimin allowed some distance to form between the two of you. While your costars and the crew had not been informed of the exact nature of your and Jimin's relationship, they were all Hollywood veterans and scent a PR moment easily enough. Still, neither of you let pretenses drop entirely. During the screening, you kept your body angled towards his and even dropped your head onto his shoulder. In response, he rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand. It was the kind of subtle detail that reminded you of how good an actor Jimin was.
In truth, Jimin didn't really need to do movies like these. He had already won an Oscar and been nominated for a handful more. He likely had another one coming this award season. But the truth of Hollywood was that it was these corny, blockbuster-type movies that brought in the cash. And as much as any actor would loathe to admit it, their craft could absolutely be bought for the right price.
After the movie was over, you followed Jimin back into the car to head to an afterparty at the director's house in Beverly Hills. You hadn't quite made it big enough for the 90210 zip code, and you always felt slightly out of place when you visited. The house the party was at was one of those Mediterranean-looking goliaths. The inside was lit in a soft yellow glow that filtered through marijuana smoke and left behind a hazy, romantic filter. Jimin almost looked like he was sparkling.
He briefly left you alone in the living room before reappearing with two martinis. He handed you one. You took it. He held out his own.
"Cheers," he said.
"Cheers."
Your glasses clinked. The alcohol left a cool burn down your throat. Jimin watched your throat as it moved. You felt faint.
"Hi guys, fantastic movie!" Summer's voice broke your trance. You turned to see her and Seokjin approaching.
"You don't have to lie to me, Summer," you grin, "I'm not the general public."
Now, it was Jimin's turn to laugh. "You've got some big dreams for us, Summer."
The night slipped away into a cozy blur. You were sitting next to Jimin on a couch on some patio. A fire crackled in a pit nearby. His arm had found its way around your back. The two of you were sharing a joint with Summer and Seokjin. She had given you the okay, given that there was no shot of the paps finding you here.
The higher you got, the more you craved Jimin's body heat. You were floating higher and higher and soon forgot that you were supposed to despise the man sitting next to you. You were so high, you didn't even notice Seokjin and Summer disappear. And then, all at once, it was just you and Jimin.
His eyes found yours as he raised the joint to his mouth, taking in a long pull. Once again, his arm was around your waist, pulling you into him, chest to chest. Your faces inched closer together until he was close enough to exhale into your waiting open mouth. He hesitated only momentarily before he kissed you, this time wasting no time biting your bottom lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth when you gasped.
The kiss was slow and yet somehow rushed. Hungry. He pulled you on top of him, landing on his hardening length. You rutted into him, and he groaned, one hand spreading across your upper back and the other grabbing your hip, pulling you into him until there was no space left between your bodies. You wanted to devour him, and judging from his groans, he wanted to devour you, too.
You pulled away to breathe, and all at once, your exhaustion hit you like a train. Jimin himself looked on the brink of sleep, his red-rimmed eyes nearly closed. You collapsed down on top of him, and before you knew it, you were asleep.
The next morning, you woke alone on the couch you had fallen asleep on. You quickly found your clutch and your phone, calling for a driver to pick you up. You got home and immediately took a shower. The hot water nearly scalded your naked skin, leaving it flushed. The night before lingered in a chopped-up blur. You remember talking to Summer and drinking and smoking. And kissing. You remembered Jimin's lips on yours and his hands digging into your skin.
You shuddered, trying to ignore the way your heart began to race at just the thought of his touch. And then came a wave of anxiety, wondering what Jimin thought of you. Wondering what his intentions were. Wondering where you now stood.
You turned off the water and wrapped yourself up in a fluffy towel. After drying and combing your hair, you made your way to your room, where you promptly dropped down onto your bed. Your phone lay a foot away from you. You tried to compose a text to Jimin that didn't leave you looking desperate or stupid.
Before you could be subsumed by your thoughts entirely, your phone screen lit up with a call from the man himself. You counted to five in your head before picking up.
"Hello?"
"Hey."
"Hey."
"So…," he sounded nervous.
"Last night?"
"Yeah."
"Look…" you trailed off, mind reeling, trying to come up with an adequate sentence. "It's my fault." Fuck, where were you going with this? "I get a little, well, let's say heated, when I get high. So my apologies. I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable."
Silence held for several painful seconds. Then Jimin sighed.
"Yeah, no, you're okay. It, uh, takes two to tango, but definitely maybe we leave the weed out in the future, yeah?"
"Yeah. Sure. Good idea."
"Well…" Jimin trailed off.
"I've got to go," you rushed out, "meeting with my agent."
In truth, you had absolutely no plans for the whole rest of your day, but for some reason, you couldn't stand the idea of Jimin being the one to hang up on you.
"Sure, see you soon."
"See ya."
The line went dead. Something sank in your stomach, leaving you mildly nauseous. It's fine, you thought, it was just the weed. You can't stand the man. No need to worry. Just back to the ruse. Or so you tried to convince yourself.
The next month swirled past you. You and Jimin's relationship ramped up. People were buying it, despite how obvious you felt it was. They want it too much, Summer had told you. The more dates you went on with Jimin, the less you hated the idea of him. It was hard to despise someone you spent so much time pretending to like.
It didn't hurt that Jimin was now forced to always be kind to you. While you knew deep down his displays of affection were false, you had to admit there was a part of you that enjoyed pretending like it was all real. That, for once, someone had deemed you worthy of time and attention.
After a string of shared engagements during the US press tour, you are finally allowed a reprieve while Jimin is once again forced under the stage lights of some late-night show. You watched from the comfort of a hotel bed in New York City, curled up with a pint of Ben and Jerry's.
Jimin looked good. He was smiling in yet another baggy tee and pair of jeans, legs spread like he owned the place. The host started off with some questions about the movie and the filming process, but it wasn't long before he moved on to talk about your relationship. This was big. It was the first time either of you were going to officially confirm it.
What you didn't expect was the host to follow it up with a question about how Jimin felt about your past. Suddenly, you felt much too warm as you watched Jimin's cheeks redden and his eyes flash with something that looked like irritation. His jaw subtly clicked, and he took a breath before answering.
"I find that question offensive quite frankly." Your stomach flipped. "I don't see what her past should matter to me. She's a grown woman, she do what she wants. Now, she's with me, and we're both happy. That's all that matters."
The host offered a brief apology before moving on to ask Jimin about his other recent movie, the one he was supposed to get an Oscar for. You could barely hear the TV over the blood rushing in your ears. You groped for your phone in the blankets beside you, gritting your teeth as you opened your socials.
It was what you expected. Some people were freaking out about Jimin confirming your relationship. Others were praising him for defending you. But through it all was the dark current of people who had nothing better to do than offer you their criticism. The vitriol. Words organized to tear you down. Slut. Whore. Easy. Even though it was all fake, it still stung. You got lost, scrolling through it all, slowly allowing yourself to go numb. You barely even heard the knock on the door.
You shook yourself out of your stupor and crawled out of the bed. You opened to find Jimin standing before you. His hair was damp from a shower. He wore a black hoodie and sweats.
"Can I come in?"
You opened the door wider to make space for him to enter. He brushed past you. You shut the door behind him and followed him into the room. He took a seat on your bed, hunching over to rest his elbows on his knees. You leaned against the dresser, his presence making you slightly uneasy. He glanced up at you.
"You watched?" His voice was soft and scratchy.
You nodded.
"How are you feeling?"
You shrugged.
"Your non-verbal answers are not very convincing."
You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out.
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't do anything."
"But that guy was an absolute ass."
"Well, the internet seems to think his point is valid."
Jimin's eyebrows shot up, "You went online?"
You looked at the ground in shame. Any public figure knows that social media is a one-way ticket to clobbering your self-esteem.
"I'm not judging," Jimin reassures you, "I'm just surprised. I know you know this, but you shouldn't listen those idiots."
"I'd like to remind you that it was not long ago that you seemed to share their opinion."
Jimin looked sheepish. You sat in silence. Finally, you opened your mouth, and the words were out before you could stop them.
"None of it's true, you know."
"What?"
"The partying, the guys, the booze, the whole bad girl thing. It's not true. It's just as much an image as this whole rodeo is."
When you could finally meet his eyes, you found Jimin looking at you as if he might throw up. You laughed awkwardly.
"Yeah. I, um, I just thought maybe it would be good for you to know."
Jimin nodded and straightened his face, "Yeah. Makes sense. Thanks."
He stands up and moves toward the door.
"I'm gonna go to bed."
"Yeah."
"Take care of yourself."
He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't and turns and leaves.
From New York, the cast flies across the Atlantic for the European leg of the press tour. You and Jimin kept up appearances the whole time, shopping together at Piccadilly Circus in London and feeding each other pizza in Rome. Your last stop was Paris, and to celebrate the end of the tour and the upcoming premiere of the film, you all head out to a club.
It was one of those underground places: humid and dark except for the colored lights and a disco ball, which made it all feel like a dream. The bass from a house remix of some pop song thunders through your body as you sway on the dance floor. You and a couple of cast members slipped away to share a joint.
You knew that it was probably a bad idea, given what happened the last time you had gotten high, but you felt like the night demanded it. You felt hot in your little black dress, and for once, you weren't thinking about your reputation.
Europe had been a new world for you. Ever since your admission in New York, there was a strange sense of ease between the two of you. You barely had to think when it came to pretending he was yours. It became second nature to grab his hand or kiss his cheek. The space next to you felt cold when he wasn't there to occupy it.
You returned to the sweaty club. Jimin was sitting at a table talking to a costar. He looked beautiful in the light, hair pushed off his forehead, collarbone peeking out from the loose, button-down draping off of him. He looked up and caught your eye before glancing back to his conversation partner. You lost sight of him as you made your way onto the dance floor, letting the drugs and the music melt away any stress you had ever felt.
A hand grabbed your waste, fingerprints searing through the silk of your dress. Then he was behind you, and you could smell the familiar spice of his cologne, and you were gone. An arm came up to grab the back of his neck as your hips ground back into his, swaying to the sultry beat of the song. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered your name in the dark.
You shivered and felt your panties turn damp. Your bodies moved together, Jimin's hand on your hip guiding you along the rhythm. His other hand rested warm on your bare thigh, and his lips found your neck. Your head collapsed back onto his shoulder, ecstasy running from your head to your toes, every nerve on fire.
The song faded into a new one, and Jimin's voice danced along the curve of your ear.
"Follow me."
You didn't question him once; let him take your hand and drag you off the dance floor. You blinked slowly as he pulled you to an alcove and then through a door, and suddenly, you were in a bathroom, dark except for a sconce painting the room in a purple-ish-pink. You could barely focus on Jimin before he had you pressed against the wall, lips attacking yours relentlessly.
You moaned shamelessly, hands finding his hair and a leg coming up to wrap around his hip. You pulled him in close, back arching up to meet him. You were voracious. You didn't know if you wanted to consume him or if you wanted him to consume you.
"Fuck, baby, goddamn."
Jimin's words came out as groans. His hands found the hem of your dress, and you barely even noticed yourself pleading with him to move them higher. To touch you where you were on fire.
You felt your eyes water as the heat of his touch moved to the band of your panties, and then his fingers were on your clit, and he swallowed your moan in a kiss to prevent the whole club from hearing your pleasure.
"Yeah, baby?" He panted in your ear. "That feel good?"
You whined.
"You feel so fucking wet for me, so fucking perfect. Been dreaming about this pussy. It's been haunting me, goddamn it baby."
He pulled his fingers away, and you nearly sobbed. Barely conscious of your surroundings, you acquiesced as he moved you to the sink, legs spread and dangling over the edge. Jimin looked up at you as he dropped to his knees. He pulled your legs over his shoulders. You threw your head back once more as he peppered kisses up the inside of your thighs, whispering small praises the whole way.
As he approached your center, he pulled away. You looked down at him. He moved in closer to your heat and inhaled. You cried out.
"Jimin, please, oh my god, do something. Anything. Oh my god."
"Yeah baby, want me to taste you? You smell so good. So ready for me. All for me."
The last sentence came out under his breath, like a prayer, as he pulled one hand away from holding your leg to push your panties to the side. You capitulated entirely when his tongue licked from your opening to your clit, dragging your wetness along with it. Wanton noises began to pour from your mouth when he attacked your clit in full force. Your body stopped being yours and began to melt into a sea of pleasure.
You wanted it to last. You wanted to stay forever wrapped in the intimate ecstasy that had filled the bathroom and nearly suffocated you. Jimin felt like heaven between your legs, and you began to pray to Gods that you didn't believe existed that he would never leave.
For his part, he kept dropping praise for you between attacks on your pussy.
"I'm so fucking hard, goddamnit. I want to fuck you so bad, but not here. Need you to scream my name when I fuck you. When I paint your pretty pussy white." Tears fell down your cheeks, back arched. "Shit baby, you know I'm gonna have to mark you as mine."
Pleasure shot up your spine, and you writhed in his grip as you finally found your peak. Your mouth was open in a silent scream while Jimin kept on dutifully licking you through the waves of your high. As you came down, you felt him crawl up your body, arms coming to wrap around your shaking torso and lips greeting yours.
You tasted yourself on his tongue as he licked into you. You moved to touch him through his jeans, cock pushing desperately against the fabric. His hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you.
"Not here," he whispered, "not here."
You looked up at him, searching his eyes. Even in the dim light, you could see just how blown out his pupils were. How much he wanted you. How much he was holding himself back from fucking you right here.
You acquiesced and once again let him pull you through the club. He made an excuse for you both to the people you had come with, and then you were out in the cool air of the Paris night. Your high was crashing, and as much as you still wanted Jimin, the thought did little to prevent you from drifting off in his shoulder in the backseat of the town car.
You blinked awake, sunlight heating up a hotel room that wasn't yours. You felt hot, and it took you a moment to recognize that a body was pressed up behind you, arm tight around your middle. The sound of Jimin's soft breath lulled you into a sleepy haze.
You were in a T-shirt that was far too large for you. His, you assumed. Your panties clung to you, still wet from his ministrations the night before. The heat of his chest on your back suggested he was shirtless. He stirred behind you. You rolled over in his arms to find his eyes open.
"Hi," you whispered.
"Hi."
"So…"
"Last night."
You looked in his eyes, then breathed truth.
"It wasn't the weed this time."
He kissed you. Slow but hard, like he was afraid you would disappear. He slowly rolled on top of you, his figure crowding yours, covering as much of you as he could. You pulled away from him, searching his eyes.
"It wasn't the weed last time either, was it?"
His words vibrated through you, and no part of you could say no to him. No part of you wanted to say no to him. Instead, you just nodded before pulling him back into you. His hands moved up your torso, under your shirt, while his lips embraced yours. His fingertips brushed the underside of your breasts, and you arched into his touch.
Pushing your shirt out of his way, his lips came down to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking gently while his hand came up to grope the other. Even with the weed gone, Jimin's touch was something euphoric. It was possessive without being rough. Soft, yet determined.
He grinded against you, his hard length catching against your core, eliciting a high-pitched whine from your mouth.
"Oh fuck, please moan for me baby." He groaned. "Be as loud as you need to. Let the whole hotel hear you."
His voice was rough and pitched like he was struggling to hold onto his self-control. You felt his fingers trail down your sides before they were gripping your underwear and pulling them down your legs. You maneuvered your body to help them off before spreading your legs, opening yourself up for him.
The tepid air of the air-conditioned hotel room highlighted just how wet you were, while the vulnerability of being so spread left you dripping even more. Jimin groaned, kneeling before you. He was wearing his jeans from the night before, and his hand came down to his zipper while he drank in the sight of you.
"Do you know what the fuck you do to me?" The sound of his zipper crackled through the room like lightning. "Do you know what you have been doing to me? God, you make me feel like I can't breathe. Like if I can't sink into you at any given moment, I'm going to die."
Your fingers found their way to your clit, rubbing small circles as you took in his words.
"Fuck baby, you make me want to do desperate, heinous things to you. I want to mark you for the whole world. Prove to them you belong to me. None of those other men, whether you fucked them or not, are good enough. I'm not even good enough."
Your fingers rubbed faster, and you moaned his name when he finally pulled his cock free, naked beneath his jeans. He stroked it while he watched you touch yourself, eyes glued to your pussy.
"But your gonna let me have you, aren't you baby? I'm not good enough for you, but you gonna let me have you anyway. Because your so good for me."
You nodded vigorously. He dropped his cock and leaned over you, taking your lips in his once more. You felt his tip brush over your pussy lips as he grinded into you, catching slightly on your opening. He mumbled something in your ear, but you were too lost in sensation.
He pulled away and repeated himself, "Protection?"
You shook your head.
"I'm on the pill."
Some part of you couldn't stand the thought of something coming between you and him. You needed him bare inside you. Jimin's eyes flashed at your response before he grabbed himself in his hand and sunk inside you.
You moaned in synchronicity as he spread you open. You felt full as your legs came to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper in you.
"Oh god, Jimin, I'm so fucking full of you, oh my god."
Jimin nearly careened at your words, kissing you desperately while his hands tangled themselves in your hair. His hips began to pump more desperately. You pressed your pelvis up into him, pussy clenching as his pubic hair tickled your clit. The room filled with the sounds of your pleasure. His name began to fall from your lips as you felt a knot begin to build inside you. Jimin was seemingly doing no better. The feeling of your nails digging into his back brought more filth from his lips.
"Are you gonna let me cum in you baby? Gonna let me mark you inside out. Make you so full of me. Carry me around inside you. Fuck, oh my god, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock."
You closed your eyes and let his words paint pictures. You pictured yourself full of him. Imagined what it would feel like to feel him drip from you. Your mind drifted, and then you imagined yourself full of him in a different way. Stomach round. Your breath hitched, you shouted his name, and then you came, trying not to think too much about the images sending you over the edge.
Jimin nearly choked at the sensation of you cumming around his cock, needing little encouragement to spill inside you, your name dripping from his lips like a prayer.
You both stilled, his forehead resting against yours. You could feel him inside you still, pulsing slightly. Or was that you? You weren't sure. You felt boneless. You felt him whisper words, but sleep was once again coming to take you away.
When you awoke again, Jimin was sitting out on the balcony, sipping on a cup of coffee and scrolling through his phone. You sat up and looked around for your belongings. You found your purse on the bedside table and took out your phone. You saw several texts from your agent and some of the people from last night but quickly ignored them when you noticed the time. You were going to be late for your flight home.
You quickly rolled out of bed and padded over to Jimin. You were slightly unsure how to approach him, but the smile he offered you put you at ease.
"Um, I have to get going. I have my flight."
"Right, yeah, absolutely."
"I'll see you back state-side?"
You and Jimin were taking separate flights, as he was staying a few extra days to go visit a friend in the French countryside.
"Yeah. Absolutely. Are you sure I can't get you a coffee or something to eat before you go?"
You shook your head. You wanted to kiss him, but something stopped you. Instead, you offered him a smile before returning to your own room.
It was a while before you saw him again. Both of your schedules were hectic, and the next time you saw each other was at the movie premiere. The car taking you picked him up first, and when you joined him in the backseat, you could immediately tell something was off.
He glanced up from his phone when you got in and gave you a small smile before returning to the screen. You tried not to think anything of it. You spent the duration of the car ride in silence. You desperately wanted to say something, but no words came to you.
You managed to smile and wave well enough for the red carpet, trying not to compare how light his touch on your waist was compared to before. You were certain something had changed, and not in the way you had hoped. The movie itself passed by all too quickly and still not soon enough for your liking before you were once again shepherded into the back of the car to go to the official afterparty.
This time, you couldn't take the silence. You rolled up the divide between the backseat and the driver and then turned to face Jimin.
"What's wrong?"
Jimin looked at you, emotionless.
"Nothing's wrong."
"Don't bullshit me, Jimin."
"I'm not."
You raised an eyebrow. He sighed.
"Please just leave it alone."
"That's not fair, Jimin. You don't get to have sex with me—pretty intense sex at that—and then ignore me like this."
He winced and then turned off his phone. His fingers tapped his thigh. He signed again.
"You're right."
You swallowed nervously, bravery gone and now replaced with a hollowing fear of what he was going to say.
"I've not been honest with you," he squirmed in his seat, "what we did…it shouldn't have…I shouldn't have done that."
He looked at you.
"Not because of anything you did. I want you to understand that. You haven't done anything wrong. I fucked up."
Your heart was slowly sinking into your stomach.
"I have a girlfriend."
The words rang out into the silent car. Your body froze, muscles cramped up. No thoughts could form in your brain.
"No one really knows about her, and we like it that way. Keeps her from dealing with the bullshit all of this fame comes with."
Words were falling from his mouth now like he couldn't stop. And you wanted him to so desperately. Stop, that is.
"And I do genuinely like you. I always have. That's why I was such an asshat to you to start off with. Not because of your reputation, but because I wanted you. Badly. And I shouldn't have wanted you. I shouldn't want you now."
Tears were starting to form in your eyes. He kept going.
"And I should never have agreed to this arrangement. I was enabling myself. Setting myself up to do something stupid."
He paused, and you finally found your voice.
"Does she know?"
Jimin's eyes dropped to his lap.
"No. And I would like to keep it that way. I can't sleep with you again. I'm willing to finish out the terms of the PR campaign, she's agreed to that, but that's all I can offer you."
He finally went quiet. He looked at you like he was hoping you would say something to make it all better. Fuck that. You turned away. Watched the city lights blur past your window. Tried to find some thought that would stop your heart from shattering into a million pieces.
A/N: Alright everyone, I'm back, and I'm coming back with a bang! Welcome to my new fic series: The Summer of 1989 featuring the maknae line of BTS. In celebration of my boys coming back from the military and the summer ahead, here are three fics each inspired by a song off of Taylor Swift's 1989 album. Please note that the fics are not necessarily set in 1989. In other news, blog revamp coming soon!!
summary: You’re an up-and-coming actress known for playing cheerleaders and prom queens in a series of successful teen blockbusters. With your roles comes a reputation: that of a girl who likes to have fun between the sheets. Your latest film is ramping up to be the movie of the summer, but this time you’re playing a sweet girl-next-door and your love interest is played by the beloved Park Jimin. To sell the role, the studio has set you up in a fake relationship with Jimin, who is only too aware of the good times you are known for.
warnings: TBA
↳ coming saturday, june 28th, 2025
is it over now? - “your new girl is my clone”
pairing: best friend’s older brother!taehyung x fem!reader
genres: rich kid!taehyung, rich kid!reader, european summer!au, old money!au, angst, fluff, smut
summary: Every summer, you make your way to the French countryside to spend your days lounging next to a pool at your best friend’s chateau. And every summer, you must contend with your best friend’s older brother, Taehyung. Annoying at first, you slowly come to the realization that he has grown into one of the more attractive people you have ever laid eyes on. Unfortunately, he seems to have realized this about himself as well and so you must find a way to keep your cool despite your burgeoning crush, the flood of girls coming through his door, and the fact that you keep catching him staring at you.
warnings: TBA
↳ coming soon!
suburban legends - “you kiss me in a way that’s going to screw me up forever”
pairing: childhood best friend!jungkook x fem!reader,
genres: small new england coastal town!au, mild horror, mystery angst, smut, fluff
summary: You come back home from your first year at college to find your small New England town just the way you left it. Summer starts and with it comes the hordes of tourists you would rather avoid. Instead, you hide away with your best friend from high school, Jungkook, watching old horror movies and helping him study for summer classes at the local community college. But then people in your graduating class start to go missing and you and Jungkook have never been very good at minding your own business. Tensions start to rise and you begin to realize that neither you nor Jungkook are the same people you were last summer and you might wind up dead before you can reconcile your differences.
A/N: Alright everyone, I'm back, and I'm coming back with a bang! Welcome to my new fic series: The Summer of 1989 featuring the maknae line of BTS. In celebration of my boys coming back from the military and the summer ahead, here are three fics each inspired by a song off of Taylor Swift's 1989 album. Please note that the fics are not necessarily set in 1989. In other news, blog revamp coming soon!!
summary: You’re an up-and-coming actress known for playing cheerleaders and femme fatales in a series of successful teen blockbusters. With your roles comes a reputation: that of a girl who likes to have fun between the sheets. Your latest film is ramping up to be the movie of the summer, but this time you’re playing a sweet girl-next-door and your love interest is played by the beloved Park Jimin. To sell the role, your PR manager has set you up in a fake relationship with Jimin, who is only too aware of the good times you are known for.
warnings: misogyny in the film industry, degrading language (non sexual), infidelity, intoxication, drug usage (weed), smut: kissing, dry humping, oral (fem. receiving), sex acts while intoxicated, p in v sex, cream pie, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill)
↳ read here!
is it over now? - “your new girl is my clone”
pairing: best friend’s older brother!taehyung x fem!reader
genres: rich kid!taehyung, rich kid!reader, european summer!au, old money!au, angst, fluff, smut
summary: Every summer, you make your way to the French countryside to spend your days lounging next to a pool at your best friend’s chateau. And every summer, you must contend with your best friend’s older brother, Taehyung. Annoying at first, you slowly come to the realization that he has grown into one of the more attractive people you have ever laid eyes on. Unfortunately, he seems to have realized this about himself as well and so you must find a way to keep your cool despite your burgeoning crush, the flood of girls coming through his door, and the fact that you keep catching him staring at you.
warnings: TBA
↳ coming soon!
suburban legends - “you kiss me in a way that’s going to screw me up forever”
pairing: childhood best friend!jungkook x fem!reader,
genres: small new england coastal town!au, mild horror, mystery angst, smut, fluff
summary: You come back home from your first year at college to find your small New England town just the way you left it. Summer starts and with it comes the hordes of tourists you would rather avoid. Instead, you hide away with your best friend from high school, Jungkook, watching old horror movies and helping him study for summer classes at the local community college. But then people in your graduating class start to go missing and you and Jungkook have never been very good at minding your own business. Tensions start to rise and you begin to realize that neither you nor Jungkook are the same people you were last summer and you might wind up dead before you can reconcile your differences.
↳ Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.
↳ Female reader x Jungkook
↳ 10.4k
! Strong language, childhood friends to lovers au, lovers to strangers au, big timeskip au, college to adulthood au, inexperienced Jungkook, inexperienced reader, angst and tension, explicit sexual content, themes of first-time sex and virginity, clumsy sex, premature ejaculation, masturbation, oral sex (m. rec), fingering, voyeurism, mutual pining, strength kink, size kink, creampie, thigh riding, sexual development, themes of possession, themes of abandonment, references to anxiety and insecurity, adult themes throughout !
It is difficult to put into terms the nature of your relationship with him, for how does one encapsulate every little thing about a person and what they mean to you in a few base words?
On the surface and when asked by others, you’re friends.
You grew up together, on the same street amongst the same circle of people. You went to the same nursery, reception and primary school, joining high school at the same time and navigating the complicated weavings of prepubescent hormones and the dreaded onslaught of examinations.
Your relationship with Jungkook, by and large, typical of those where two people know each other ludicrously well. Jungkook knows your ways and mannerisms, how the volume of the car radio must be set to even number, lest the world end. He knows your likes and dislikes, how you prefer summer over winter, iced beverages over warm. He knows how to bring you down when emotions take you particularly high, and how to push your buttons in a bid for the opposite. With him, you can be quick to either anger or laughter, and it’s dependant entirely on him which you get.
Yet even so, for as much as Jungkook has engrained himself into your life, and you his, the passage of time leaves nothing untouched.
High school graduation was the first time you felt it. The first time you’d even thought about it, in truth.
Author: @kpopfanfictrash as part of the Happy Ho-lidays collab with @floralseokjin , @suga-kookiemonster , @sugaurora , @underthejoon, @winetae and @btssavedmylifeblr
Pairing: Jungkook / Reader (female)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Ski Resort!AU / Snowboarder!AU
Word Count: 36,333
Rating/Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Fingering, oral (female receiving), hand job, mutual masturbation, breast play, some face riding, dirty talk, orgasm denial, clit smacking (is there a non plural form of this?), cum shot on chest
Mentions of past death (does not occur during story). Ankle injury (non-graphic). Min Yoongi is an enthusiastic MC. Bam is adorable. Jungkook has both lip and eyebrow piercing
Summary: The Inn on the Hill is in trouble. Or that’s what your boss, Namjoon, says during the last-minute All Staff holiday meeting he calls. You need money, and you need money fast, or his parents are planning to sell the resort. When no one can think of an easy solution, Namjoon proposes his parents’ idea: a weeklong social media blitz with a celebrity guest. The celebrity? None other than Jeon Jungkook himself: two-time Olympic gold medalist, world-class snowboarder and the nation’s sweetheart. What’s the problem? You happen to have met Jeon Jungkook before, and sincerely hoped you’d never see him again.
❄ genre: childhood friends to strangers to lovers, angst with happy ending, smut [18+]
❄ summary: 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.
❄ warnings: petnames, flirty!jimin (yes, that’s a warning), more warnings on release date
⇥ summary: when your toxic ex comes back into your life, how can you resist him?
⇥ word count: 6.2k+
⇥ warnings: cheating, vulgar language, so much dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), fingering, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight size kink, slight choking, both the reader and Tae being toxic together
a/n: THIS IS NOT MY PHOTO, THE LOVELY TAEHYUNG PHOTO WAS CREATED BY @taegguksm . THEY HAVE REALLY GOOD PHOTOS IM IN LOVE WITH. HERE’S THE ORIGINAL POST . I just really liked it and only added words.
Anyways, I have not been motivated to write in a while, but this thought crashed into my skull so hard it had to be written. ^^ I hope you guys enjoy.
“Why do you always have to be such an asshole?” chest heaving in exasperation, you rhetorically asked the taunting question.
“Why must you always make a big deal out of the smallest shit?” Taehyung shot back with the same amount of venom lacing his tongue.
How dare he minimalize your feelings? Treat you as if you have no right to be upset when you of all people was more correct than he ever was.
Like adding water to an oil fire, your flesh burned intensely, irritation evident on your face as your eyes lit up like a flame.
