summary: when you return home from studying abroad, you come to find your former best friend, jimin, has made drastic changes to his life that could put him in danger or behind bars forever.
pairings: drug dealer!jimin x f!reader.
warnings: smut, violence, fluff, blood and gore, ex best friend jimin, gang member!jimin, tattooed/pierced!jimin, long hair!jimin, use of guns/knives, mentions of self harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drugs, drug addiction, angst, murder, strong language, 18+, minors dni.
word count: 796
author’s note: yes yes, I’m getting back into my writing and I’ve finally posted at least the teaser to this fic lol.
Your heart beats heavily against your chest as you finally hear Jimin’s door unlock, the brunet appearing on the other side as it opens. He looks uninterested to see you, an annoyed expression on his face. “What’re you doing here, y/n?” He says dryly. You take a deep breath before you speak. “Is it true?” You ask softly.
Jimin leans against his door frame, a raised eyebrow as he waits for you to explain what you mean, but you don’t. “Is what true?” He urges you to go on. “What everyone is saying… that you– that you have something to do with that boy getting murdered.”
Jimin squints before his dark orbs survey the hallway to make sure no one is around. It was almost like he thought you were setting him up, but regardless of your estranged friendship, he still knew you better than that. Once he made sure the coast was clear, he pulled you by your arm inside his apartment and slammed the door closed. “What’s everyone saying?” He questions.
“That you, along with your little gang associates, had something to do with that shooting that happened in Busan last night.” Jimin scoffs, letting go of your arm. The brunet walks around you, running his fingers through his hair in distress. His back is turned towards you, and he stands in silence for a moment before turning to face you.
“Do you believe them?”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. It was time to face the painful truth; Jimin was no longer that sweet boy you used to know. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Jimin. I mean… since I’ve been back I’ve barely recognized you. You’ve been into a lot of reckless shit, and now you have murder attached to your name? It doesn’t seem too far-fetched anymore.”
Jimin scowled at your insinuation. “Then I guess you got it all figured out, don’t you? Just call the cops now if you’re so sure, y/n.” He pulls his cell from his pocket, reaching out for you to take it. “Go on, take it.” He beckons. You shake your head, refusing the phone. “I didn’t come here to prosecute you, Jimin.” You speak softly. “I came here hoping that it wasn’t you… but I can read you like a book still, and I know you had something to do with it.”
The brunet makes a ‘tsk’ sound. “So what if I did, y/n? You gonna rat on me?” He takes a step closer to you, the look in his eyes intimidating; but no matter how hard he tried to instill fear into you, he was still Jimin. “No… but you should turn yourself in. I don’t wanna see you go down like this, Mochi.” You utter the nickname you used to call him when you were kids.
This softens the brunet for a mere moment before he finds himself enraged. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking call me that. Don’t you fuckin’ pretend to give a shit about me. Not after you left me behind.” He grits his teeth, pointing his ringed finger in your face.
“I never left you behind,” you push his finger away, glaring at him. “I had goals, dreams to achieve. I couldn’t be stuck in this dead end life like–”
“Like me?” He cut you off. “Say it, y/n. Say like me.” He pushes. You shake your head, taking a step back from the brunet. “I’d hate to say it, but you’re a lost cause. I should’ve never come here. If you wanna ruin your life forever, that’s fine by me. I’m done caring.” You turn to exit, but Jimin isn’t done guilting you. “You never did.”
This finally boils your blood, and you whip around to face him. “I’m not the one that stopped reaching out, you did!” You remind him. You were tired of being the one to blame for your fallen friendship with Jimin. The phone worked both ways, and he was the one that stopped answering your calls, and calling altogether. “I am tired of being blamed, I am tired of your coldness towards me. I don’t know what the hell you wanted from me!”
“I wanted you to stay!” He snaps. “But you left and I was all alone! I needed you, y/n. I needed you and you fuckin’ left me…” his voice cracks, and for the first time since you’ve been back you see a glimpse of the old Jimin in his eyes. Soft. Innocent. Lost. “I… I don’t know what to say…” your voice is gentle. Jimin finds his composure, shaking his head. “I don’t need you to say shit,” he spat. “You wanna know if I killed that kid? Yeah. I did it.”
Double Scoop of Trouble (Sweet on You) (m) | pjm | series masterlist
when your apartment needs urgent repairs, your best friend offers a bright solution: move in with her older brother. Only problem? His name is Park Jimin—your longtime crush. For a neurodivergent woman who thrives on rules and routines, what can possibly go wrong? (spoiler: a lot of sweet trouble).
→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female)
→ AUs: best friend’s older brother!au, forbidden love!au, nonidol!au
→ Trope: slow burn, crush to roommate to lovers, forced proximity, secret relationship, hidden love
→ Genres: romance/cozy romance, fluff, slice of life, slow burn
→ Rating: mature/explicit/R18
(this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)
→ Total word count: 68k
→ Warnings + triggers: comfort and supportive vibes, protective Jimin, sweet teasing, flirty banter, aftercare, emotional safety, neurodivergency (OC), age gap (slightly, not too big), moving in together, ice cream dates, i’m sorry for all the stupid jokes and my poor humor, movie nights, sensory and neurodivergent focus, family, anxiety, shutdown, domestic life, summer, snow and winter setting, wholesome, heartwarming, fluffy and steamy, light angst
→ Author’s note: hi!!! I’m back with some fluff and comedy 🥰 (angst is very minimal!!!). This one is very personal to me, because I wrote the MC unapologetically like me (alot, not 100%). In her behavior, way of thinking. It’s… therapy. I needed to put this to words to not have it all just in my head—and so I wrote this. Will it resonate with all of you? Probably not, but that isn’t the point. And even if you aren’t neurodivergent, I’m sure you can appreciate the comedy in it (and I’m so sorry if you’re neurodivergent and feel called out in any point of the story, that is not my intention! When I’ve read other neurodivergent people’s stories (not talking fics), I find it both scary and funny how much I relate, so I tried to incorporate that into it)). Also—I am very aware of the “bad timing” for a topic about neurodiversity… I don’t have words for what’s going on in the world, especially in the US… In my country it’s not as bad. We’re even getting a revised version of the ICD10 (I guess it’s kinda like the DSM5 they use in the States), so the ICD11 is being updated to allow for better understanding on the autism spectrum to allow for more of the sensitive (hypo- and hyper) processing one might have. It will make it easier to diagnose more people that previously “didn’t fit into the box” and also include those who mask/camouflage a lot (like me!). I did spend some time editing it, but I’m sure there’s still stuff I’ve missed and sometimes I tend to focus on the wrong things (details) when writing, that I forgot to describe where my characters are. God damn my brain is just focused on vibes and the space itself 😂 Anyway. Enough of me rambling. I do hope you enjoy the story ✨
→ Read on AO3? [link]
**If you want to be added to the series taglist just tell me in a comment, reblog or send me an ask 🍨
→ Author’s endnote: so I’m not actually completely done editing, but I only have the last chapter left to edit, which I hope to get done tomorrow and maybe, just maybe also post everything (if not, it will be in a few days 🙏). I hope you’re excited.
Hi! Congrats on your milestone!!!
Can I make a request for Jimin, angst, fluff and smut please.
Something along the lines of, you're in an arranged marriage type of situation, maybe rich family want you to marry into another rich family but you're in love with Jimin (friend, boy down the street, your brother's best friend, your choice) you finally can't resist him any more, at a big event like a family party or something and you have sex in the building somewhere.
Anything along those lines would be great but I'm happy for whatever you choose. A happy ending would be great too but again, it's up to you.
thank you @pars-ley for the request <3
☆pairings: Jimin x female!reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)
☆genre: arranged marriage!au (they are not married together), angst, smut and a bit of fluff
☆warnings: unedited, alcohol, cursing, the L word, cheating (reader cheats on her husband with jimin oop) explicit content: light hair pulling, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, jerking off, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, nipple play, praising, dirty talking
☆word count: 3.5k
☆a/n: i did not write exactly what was requested bc i somehow misread and thought it was supposed to be at the night of the wedding bc i'm dumb but i only realized when i finished writing and i hope you guys still like it :')
☆☆☆☆☆
Jimin hates weddings. He hates the crowds, the lights, the ambiance that is reminiscent of love shared.
Of love he’ll never experience.
You’re beautiful. An angel sent from above in your white dress, your hair sparkling as it cascades down your back. Your makeup is light, like everything about you, and if your family and friends knew you any better, they too would see the fakeness in your smile.
The tightness in your features every time your now-husband wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss on your cheek.
Jimin clenches his jaw as Jackson, your husband, pulls you close, kissing you. You barely reciprocate, and then you fake your following smile. It goes unnoticed by Jackson, much like it has been doing all night and Jimin scoffs, shaking his head.
“I’ll have a scotch,” your father says, pulling Jimin out of his thoughts.
He’s working behind the bar tonight, helping his mother with the wedding. Indeed, his mother owns a catering company, so weddings and charity events and the likes have been common in his life. He met you at such an event, years ago, while you were both still teenagers and too young to realize that your worlds weren’t made to collide.
Not when you’re the heiress of one of the richest companies in the country, and he grew up on the line between poverty and middle class. But you both couldn’t help the gravity that pulled you towards one another.
In another life, Jimin thinks you would have gotten married. He would have built you a house, given you as many kids as you’d want, loved you every day like it was his last day. He would have kissed you at the altar, would have made love to you on the wedding night, would have held you through your bad days.
He would have given you everything he has. He still wants to, but he knows it’s impossible. Your parents would have never let you marry for love. No, they’ve always been about money and connections, and your marriage to Jackson is just that.
One of money and connections, between a rich Korean company and an even richer Chinese company.
“Coming right up,” Jimin replies to your father.
He wonders, does your father even know that you’ve been in love for all those years?
Does he know that you were telling him you wish you could marry him instead a few days ago?
Jimin pushes the thought away, pouring the glass of scotch your father asked for. He hands it to the older man, who thanks him with a polite smile before sauntering away with the swagger that only rich people have.
Tonight promises to be hell. Not only because you’re getting married, but also because you’re about to be permanently whisked away from Jimin’s life.
You’re moving to China to live with your new husband. You’d broken down in tears when you’d told Jimin, and he’d held you while you sobbed, kissing the top of your head as if trying to piece you back together. The memory is bittersweet, filled with all the feelings he’s ever had for you, and thinking about it makes his heart ache fiercely.
As the night goes on, Jimin becomes keenly aware that you’re avoiding him, always sending your husband to get drinks for you. It breaks his heart even more - it feels like you’re already gone. When the clock hits midnight, he tells the other barman that he’s going to take a breather if only so that he can be away from you for a moment, away from all the pain he’s been drowning in.
But he should have known better. Because you meet him in the darkness, your soft footsteps revealing your approach, and Jimin turns to look at you.
You’re even more beautiful up close. The moonlight kisses your skin and you look like you’re shining from within. Your eyes are glistening, hosting a myriad of jewels, almost akin to stars. Your lips are curved upwards, yet sadness lingers on your features, much like it’s been lingering in his heart since you told him about the wedding.
“Jimin,” you whisper, your voice so vulnerable he can’t stop himself from crossing the distance between the two of you and taking you in his embrace.
You melt against him as you bury your face in his chest. The smell of your shampoo hits his nose, followed by the scent of your perfume, the one he gave to you a year ago when he managed to save up the money.
You’re warm, so warm, yet Jimin reckons he’s never felt so cold.
He murmurs your name, praying to God above to allow him to let you go, yet he can’t. He can’t let go, not when he’s fully aware this is the last time he’ll ever hold you.
“I don’t want to leave,” you breathe against his chest.
He tightens his hold, wishing he could change the outcome for the two of you.
“It’s okay,” he reassures you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “You’ll be okay.”
“How can I be okay without you?”
Jimin pulls away just enough to look down at your face, a finger reaching up to your chin to tilt your head back. “You’re strong. Stronger than anyone I know. You will be okay.”
The tear rolling down your cheek looks like a gem in the silver light of the moon, and Jimin dries it with his thumb.
“I’ll miss you,” you say in a small, broken voice.
He pecks your forehead. “Whenever you miss me, just look up at the moon.” He looks up, and you mirror his motion. “And then we’ll be together again.”
Your hands reach up, grabbing the collar of his white dress shirt, and you pull him down. He’s taken by surprise, but he knows your lips by heart and it takes him just half a heartbeat before he reciprocates the kiss, his mouth moving in time with yours.
You sigh, and though the kiss tastes salty from the tears that spill from your eyes and his, it doesn’t slow you down. No, Jimin only holds you tighter, hands getting lost in your long curls. Your hair is soft like satin, soft like starlight, and the small, breathy sound you let out when he reaches the back of your head and lightly pulls on your hair makes him go feral.
He’s never had you before. He’s had other girls, and he’s kept his eyes closed the entire time thinking it was you instead, but it’s a line you've never crossed. The farthest you’ve ever gone was one time by the lakeside, when you’d taken your shirt off while grinding on him. He’d kissed your chest, he'd tasted your skin, and it’s still one of his favourite memories of the two of you.
He says your name, his voice rougher this time around, and you retaliate by moving your hands to the front of his shirt, and then down to his belt.
“I want you,” you breathe out when he puts his hand on yours, trying to stop you.
“What about your…”
He can’t bring himself to say ‘husband’. Not when it should have been him.
“He won’t know,” you reassure Jimin. “He’s already half drunk.”
Though Jimin does not condone cheating, the way your eyes meet his, burning from within, makes him throw caution to the wind and he grabs your face, crashing his lips on yours. You meet him with the same fire, your tongue finding his, and Jimin grunts as your hand moves down and you drag your palm on his hardening length.
You taste good. You taste inebriating, you taste like heaven melted into the sweetest liquid. It makes Jimin want more of you, makes him want everything and, before you can unbuckle his belt, he drops to his knees, looking up at you.
Your eyes widen, but it doesn’t take long before Jimin disappears under the skirt of your dress, his mouth exploring the soft skin of your leg. He moves up, slowly, his lips grazing your skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he settles on your inner thigh, tongue darting out. But he needs more, needs to know what you sound like when you come, so he doesn’t stop there, finding your core between your legs and giving you a lick over your panties.
The sound you make is enough to fuel his fantasies for the rest of his life, and Jimin pushes your panties to the side, his tongue parting your folds to dive into your heat. You shudder, saying his name like a prayer, and then he teases your clit, circling enticingly as he tries to coax more sounds out of you.
You’re heaven personified. His heaven. When he’ll die, Jimin knows all he’ll remember is the sounds you made when he was pleasuring you. He almost wishes he would die now, almost wishes this was his last act on this Earth, if only so that he could go with the taste of you on his lips.
His dick twitches in his pants at the thought, and he reaches down, squeezing himself. He’s hard, harder than he’s ever been, and he thinks he’d be able to come by just tasting you. But then again he wants to feel you, wants to find completion along with you. So he keeps eating you out, lapping you up, drinking you in until your sounds grow breathier, and you try to grind in his face.
When he wants to pull away, he finds he’s glued to your pussy, glued to the act of pleasuring you, so he decides to make you come, to bring you to the seventh sky, and he pushes a finger inside of you, fighting against your tight walls until they relax and suck him in.
“Fuck, Jimin,” you cry out over him.
He’s unleashed. A beast that just needs to devour you, and so he does, his finger pumping in and out of you in time with the flick of his tongue on your clit. Soon, he adds a second finger inside of you, and he curls his digits to find the sweet, nutty spot inside of you that he knows will throw you over the edge.
He’s not wrong - a few seconds later, you’re climaxing, your walls pulsing on his fingers as your juices sinfully cover his chin. He guides you through your high, up until you whimper from oversensitivity once the waves of pleasure have passed. Only then does he emerge from beneath your skirt, looking up at you.
You’re brighter than the moon above. You’re the most beautiful creature, woman, in the whole universe, and though you’re not meant to be his for this life, he'll make sure that you are his tonight.
Jimin gets up, letting your dress fall back around you, and then he finds your mouth, kisses you with all the might of his love for you. You kiss him back languidly, tasting yourself on him, and he wonders if you think you taste just as good as he knows you do.
Your hands move to his chest, and you start unbuttoning his dress shirt, your hungry fingers soon caressing his skin. You go down, heading for his pants again, and you manage to deftly unbuckle his belt, and then you unbutton his dress pants. It’s enough for you to slip your hand in, and Jimin bucks his hips as you dive underneath his underwear, wrapping your hand around him.
“I want you inside of me,” you murmur, your lips still pressed on his.
You deserve better than the ground. You deserve better than getting fucked on a wall, too, but Jimin figures the wall is better than the ground. So he pulls your hand out of his underwear, entwining his fingers with his.
“I’d fuck you in a bed,” he whispers. “I’d fuck you in a shower, on a couch. Hell, I wouldn’t even fuck you.” His heart fills with love for you. “I’d make love to you. We’d go until the sun comes up, and then we’d start again when the sun goes down.” He says your name softly. “I wish we could have this life together.”
He leans his forehead against yours. “If only it was you, Jimin…” you reply. “If only it was you that I got married to. I’d be the happiest woman alive.”
He kisses you again, softer this time.
“I do want you, too,” he says when he pulls away from the kiss. He looks around, making sure you’re still alone in the darkness of this side of the building. “But we can’t really do that here.”
“There’s a garden,” you murmur. “I saw a weeping willow, with the branches touching the floor.”
“We can’t,” he says. “What about your dress?”
You look down at yourself, at the white dress that would so easily be soiled with dirt. “Fuck.”
Jimin has never heard you swear before, except while his tongue was on you, and he can’t help the surprised chuckle that falls from his lips. But you’re quick to steal his breath again as you let go of his hand to dive in his pants again. The second your fingers wrap around his dick, and you start moving up and down, Jimin stops caring about everything.
All there is is you, and he’ll make sure to please you until you’re spent.
“Let’s go under that tree,” he grunts, his voice rough.
You smile, and Jimin isn’t sure if he will ever see beauty again once you’re out of his life. Because you’re beauty, inside and out.
You pull your hand out of his pants, and Jimin redoes the button and buckles his belt. It doesn’t take too long for the two of you to find the tree you were talking about, hidden in the darkness at the very back of the garden, far from all the wedding lights. The music from the reception is a distant song, one that wraps around Jimin the same way your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you under the branches of the willow, fully hidden from view.
It’s so dark under the tree that he barely can see you, yet it doesn’t stop him from exploring your body. From slowly undoing your dress, letting it pool at your feet.
That way, you might manage to not dirty it too much.
His clothes are quick to follow, and soon he stands naked in front of you, your hand already caressing his dick again. He doesn’t waste time before removing your panties, and just like that you’re both nude, your bodies reaching for each other.
Jimin takes his time with you. He takes his sweet time pressing kisses on your neck and between the valley of your breasts. He takes his time teasing your nipples with his tongue, with his fingers. Fingers that he then dives in your heat to make sure that you’re ready for him. Your wetness is slick, his fingers slipping right in, and so he figures you can take him. He turns you around, pushing your hair over your shoulder so that he can gently bite at the skin of your neck while he guides himself towards you.
He doesn’t have a condom, yet it doesn’t stop him. Doesn’t stop him from gently bending you over, helping you hold onto the tree so that you don’t fall.
It doesn’t stop him from rubbing his tip on your folds, his eyes rolling to the back of his head at the pleasurable feeling. You let out a breathy sound as he starts pushing into you, your walls sucking him right in.
Your pussy is warm. It’s soft, wet, and it feels so heavenly that Jimin thinks he might come already. He grunts as he bottoms out, and you clench around him once, almost sending him flying over the edge.
“Jimin,” you breathe out.
He bends down, pressing a kiss on the side of your neck. “I know.”
You roll your hips, and his fingers dig in the supple skin of your waist as he groans again.
“You feel so good.”
So do you. Yet Jimin can’t answer - the way you’re moving on his dick surpasses all of his fantasies, and he just knows that he’ll be truly and thoroughly ruined by the end of the night.
Not that it matters.
“You’ll fill me up, huh?” you say, and it’s like lightning striking him in the spine.
Who knew you were so filthy when it comes to sex?
“You’d like that?” he purrs in your ear.
You don’t reply, only circling your hips again, and it feels far too good.
“What a good fucking girl,” he adds, and then he’s straightening, pulling back to fuck into you.
You moan softly, the sound muffled as you try not to be too loud, yet Jimin focuses on your moan, committing it to memory. And then he unleashes himself, jackhammering into you as he tries to make you come again just so that he can feel it on his dick.
Reaching around your body, Jimin starts rubbing on your clit, and you say his name in such a sinful way that he feels his balls tightening already. But even then he keeps it in, pushes the feeling aside until all there is is you, the sounds you make, and the pornographic noises your pussy makes every time he pushes in, your wetness coating him so thoroughly he even feels it on his balls.
He’ll go insane. He won’t walk out of this alive, but he doesn’t care. Not if that means he’ll die with you, die proving to himself that you’re his in the ways that matter the most.
You’re getting tighter, your walls clenching on his dick hard as you start meeting his every motion, pushing your hips back into his. He keeps rubbing on your clit, his eyes tightly shut as he holds his cum in.
“Come for me,” he tells you, and he runs his free hand on your back, losing it in the hair at the back of your head. He pulls on your hair that way, turning your face so that he can capture your lips in a languid kiss.
“Fuck,” you curse in his mouth.
“I love you.”
You come the second he says the words, and Jimin praises you all through your high, slowly fucking you. He milks your orgasm out of you, biting his lips so hard he tastes blood just to keep himself from coming. Indeed, the feeling of your walls fluttering on his dick threatens to push him way over the edge, but the pain keeps it at bay long enough for him to make sure you’re truly spent.
He holds you up, his arm wrapped around your waist as you reach behind you to try and touch him. Your fingers graze the skin of his hip, and Jimin grabs your hand gently, his thumb rubbing the back of your palm.
“You think you can keep going for me?” he asks you, kissing the back of your shoulder.
You nod. “Please.”
Your voice is whimpery, needy, and Jimin immediately complies, starting to fuck into you again, chasing his own high. It hits so hard a few thrusts later that he sees stars, and he stills deep inside of you, releasing his load as he grunts your name. His climax lasts longer than it ever has, and he’s trembling by the time his balls have emptied.
For a minute, all that can be heard under the willow is the mingling of your heavy breathing, and the occasional kiss Jimin presses on your skin. The night returns to its gentle calmness, the shrill cry of a cricket mixing with that of the music. A soft breeze plays with the leaves of the trees, and Jimin thinks he can even hear an owl in the distance, though that might just be his imagination.
He pulls out of you, and you let out a small whine that makes him chuckle. He massages the meat of your ass, and then pulls you up to wrap his arms around your waist as he leans his head on your shoulder.
“I really love you,. You know that, right?” he whispers.
“I love you too, Jimin.”
There’s another silence of him just enjoying your proximity, though your end looms over the horizon, slowly inching closer. It’s like a dark cloud rolling in in the distance, tumbling closer as the storm nears. It breaks his heart, and he keeps his eyes tightly shut, doing his best not to let the tears win.
“Let’s run away,” you say, with so much quiet conviction that the heartache dissipates, and Jimin finally understands.
Finally understands that the sun always comes after the storm.
☆☆☆☆☆
i hope you guys liked this one <3 let me know what you think!
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
A/N:I want to sincerely apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out to you all! I’m currently balancing a 6-month internship, which has been taking up most of my energy. I only have the chance to sit down and write late at night, so updates are taking longer than I’d like.
Because of my limited time, I want to clarify that this is a short story, not a long series. I’m going to be focusing on short stories like this one for a while, as they allow me to keep sharing my work with you all without the pressure of a long, ongoing project while I finish my internship.
Thank you so much for your patience and for sticking with me💜💜💜💜
Chapter : 2
The silence of the village is a stark contrast to the chaotic, terrifying night you just endured. Your grandmother’s hands are rough and warm—a heat that feels alien after being touched by the Three Devils’ cold fingers.
"Y/N, listen to me," your grandmother whispers, her eyes cloudy with cataracts but sharp with intuition. "Money that comes this fast... it always has a shadow attached to it. You don't have to do this, child."
You kneel before her, pressing the heavy envelope of money into her lap. It feels like lead. "It’s a good job, Halmeoni," you lie, your voice brittle. "A wealthy family in the city... they need a live-in caretaker. They paid me in advance because they saw how hard I worked at the gala."
Min-jun looks between you and the envelope of money, his small face scrunched in confusion. "Is the city scary, Noona? Why are your eyes so red?"
You swallow the lump in your throat. You can't tell them that you are now "property." You can't tell them that your blood is the price for their survival.
"The city is just loud, Min-junie," you lie, your voice trembling. "And I'm only crying because I'll miss your noisy face."
You look around the crumbling shack. The roof leaks, the floorboards are rotting, and your grandmother’s cough is getting deeper every day. If you stay, she dies. If you stay, Min-jun stays a beggar.
"I've already signed the papers, Halmeoni," you say, making up a lie they can understand. "If I don't go, I'll have to pay a fine we can't afford. This is for the best. I’ll be back before you know it." The wooden floor creaks as Min-jun shuffles closer, his bony knees pressing against yours.
Your heart shatters. You pull him into a hug, feeling his warmth—a real, living heartbeat—and realize this is the last time you might feel "heat" for a long, long time. In the mansion, everything is cold.
"I have to go, Min-junie," you whisper into his hair. "Eat well. Take care of Halmeoni." His fingers clutch at your sleeve—small, desperate. You peel them away gently, pressing a kiss to each knuckle. The door creaks when you step out, but you don't look back. If you do, you'll crumble.
----
Moonlight pooled across the antique rug like spilled mercury as you traced the edges of the library’s towering bookshelves, fingers skimming over gilded spines. You could see the outline of the jungle. A crow landed on the windowsill, its beady eyes locking onto yours. You flinched, stumbling back into a shelf—only for a cold hand to steady your shoulder from behind.
"Careful," Jimin murmured, his breath chilling the nape of your neck as he reached past you to pluck a volume from the shelf. "Wouldn’t want you to bruise the merchandise." His grin was all teeth when you recoiled, the book’s leather binding creaking under his grip. "Relax. I didn’t come here to bite you." He flipped the pages with deliberate slowness. "Unless you ask nicely."
Jimin's fingers paused on the book's spine, his nail tapping against the embossed title with deliberate precision. "You want to go home soon, right?" he mused, not looking at you as he pulled the volume free. "Then help me find something—anything—about immunity to vampiric compulsion. If we figure out why my power doesn't work on you..." He finally met your gaze,"You can go back to your village."
Your breath hitched. "Really?" The word slipped out before you could choke it back, hope flaring bright and stupid in your chest.
Jungkook’s low, mocking chuckle vibrated through the library, a sound that made the fine hairs on your arms stand up. He stepped out of the deep shadows behind the mahogany desk, his bare feet silent on the Persian rug.
Moonlight caught the sharp edges of his smirk as he tilted his head at Jimin. "False hope is cruel, jimin," he purred, fingers flexing at his sides like a predator savoring the anticipation of a pounce. "You know me... I don't leave my prey once I've tasted it."His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes darkening as they locked onto the pulse fluttering at your throat.
You stumbled back, the shelf digging into your spine. Jungkook advanced, slow and deliberate, his gaze flicking to Jimin with something akin to challenge. "You’re boring me with your books and research. I’d rather watch her face when she realizes there’s no escape." His fingers twitched toward you, stopping just short of touching your skin—taunting.
Jimin sighed, snapping the book shut with a sharp *thud*. "Jungkook-ah, don’t you have that dreadful party to attend? The producers will be furious if their golden boy doesn’t show." His voice was light, but his grip on the book’s spine tightened imperceptibly.
Jungkook rolled his eyes, stepping so close you could feel the unnatural chill radiating from his skin. "Boring," he drawled, dragging a fingertip down the column of your neck. "I’d rather stay and count the ways she trembles." His breath ghosted over your ear, voice dropping to a whisper only you could hear. "Maybe I’ll bite you somewhere new tonight. Your thigh, perhaps? The blood there is sweeter—warmer."
You recoiled, but the bookshelf trapped you. Jungkook’s smirk widened at your panic, his fangs glinting in the dim light as he leaned close.
Jimin sighed, long-suffering, as he tossed the book onto a velvet chaise with deliberate nonchalance. "Jungkook-ah," he chided, stepping between you and jungkook. "Go play with your fans tonight. She's mine for tonight."
Jungkook rolled his eyes, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his irritation. His fingers twitched at his sides. "Fine," he spat, though his smirk didn't waver as he leaned around Jimin to whisper directly into your ear—his breath a frostbitten caress. "Don't think this means I'm done with you, pancake. I *always* come back for another bite."
Jungkook vanished before you could flinch, the air displacing with a sharp *crack* that sent a nearby vase of lilies shuddering. The silence he left behind was thick enough to choke on. Jimin exhaled through his nose, the sound more amused than annoyed, before turning those unsettlingly golden eyes on you. "Alone at last," he murmured, thumb brushing the spine of the discarded book like it was a lover's knuckle. "Now. Where were we?"
Your pulse stuttered when he stepped closer,You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the sharp sting of fangs—but instead, the weight of a book pressed into your trembling hands.
"Open your eyes, little human girl," Jimin's voice curled around you like smoke—deceptively soft, yet suffocating. His fingers tapped the book's spine impatiently against your palm. "Help me find a solution, or do you enjoy wasting my time?"
Your eyelids fluttered open to find him closer than expected, his golden eyes dissecting you with clinical precision. The library's candlelight caught the predatory glow beneath his polite veneer. Swallowing hard, you fumbled with the book's pages, the parchment rough under your fingertips as you scanned for anything about human immunity. Hours bled together; the only sounds were the rustle of turning leaves and Jimin's occasional hum of disappointment.
At some point, a yawn tore through you unbidden, your jaw cracking with exhaustion. Jimin's hand froze mid-reach for another volume. "Tired already?" His smirk was a razor's edge. "Humans. So fragile." He plucked the book from your limp grasp, flipping through it with supernatural speed before snapping it shut. "Useless. I’ve tried these already."
The book slipped from your fingers and hit the rug with a muffled thud. You flinched backward, pressing yourself against the shelves as Jimin’s gaze sharpened. "I—I’m sorry, Master," you stammered, immediately dropping into a bow so low your forehead nearly touched the floor. "I didn’t mean to—"
Jimin's fingers paused mid-page turn, his gaze sliding to you with slow, calculated amusement. "Master?" he repeated. The candlelight caught the dangerous glint in his golden eyes as he leaned closer, close enough for his cold breath to ghost over your cheek. "How obedient. You can call me Jimin—I don’t mind." His lips quirked into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "Unless you'd prefer something more... intimate."
You only nodded, your fingers tightening around the book's edge. Jimin studied you for a long moment before tilting his head, his golden eyes gleaming unnaturally in the dim light. "How old are you, human girl?" His voice was casual.
"Twenty," you whispered, the admission feeling pitifully small in the cavernous library.
Jimin's lips curled into a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "Still a baby," he mused, dragging a cold fingertip along the shelf beside you. "I'm turning five hundred this winter. Older than Jungkook. Older than Taehyung." His gaze flicked back to you, sharp as a blade. "Tell me honestly—what do you think about vampires? What do humans really think of us?"
You hesitate, fingers curling into the worn fabric of your skirt. Jimin's gaze lingers on you, golden and unnerving, waiting. "My halmeoni said..." Your voice falters, then firms. "She said vampires hate garlic. Sunlight burns you. You sleep in coffins during the day."
Jimin's lips twitch. Then, without warning, he bursts into laughter. The sound bounces off the library's vaulted ceilings as he reaches out, ruffling your hair like you're a child who's just recited nursery rhymes. "Oh, little rabbit," he gasps between laughs, wiping an imaginary tear, "you really are just a baby, aren't you?" His fingers trail down to pinch your cheek, cold and patronizing. "Garlic? Coffins? Did your grandmother get her knowledge from cartoon reruns?"
Your cheeks burned redder, the heat crawling up your neck as Taehyung's voice slithered from the shadows behind you. "Did your dear *Halmeoni* forget to mention how we kill humans?" His fingers brushed your shoulder—a whisper of contact that made you flinch—before gripping your hair and wrenching your head back. "How we peel their skin like overripe fruit?" His breath ghosted over your exposed throat, his lips curling into a smile you felt more than saw. "Or how the screaming sounds prettier when it's slow?"
Jimin sighed, flipping another page with deliberate disinterest. "Taehyung-ah, you're being dramatic again."
Taehyung ignored him, his grip tightening until your scalp stung. "Shall I demonstrate, little mouse?" He dragged you backward, your heels scraping against the rug as he forced you to face the towering mirror framed in blackened silver. Your reflection stared back—wide-eyed, trembling, dwarfed by his looming figure. His free hand traced the curve of your jaw in the mirror, his touch deceptively gentle. "See this?" His nail pressed just hard enough to threaten breaking skin. "One flick, and I could unspool you like a thread."
Your breath hitched. The library's candlelight flickered, casting jagged shadows that made Taehyung eyes gleam like wet blood.
Jimin sighed, flipping another page with deliberate nonchalance. "Taehyung-ah, stop scaring her. You're wasting my research time."
Taehyung rolled his eyes with theatrical disdain before releasing your hair with a shove that sent you stumbling forward. You barely caught yourself against the edge of a reading desk, your knees knocking against its ornate legs. Without thinking, you scrambled behind Jimin, pressing your back against the bookshelf as if the slender vampire could somehow shield you.
Jimin didn’t react at first, his attention still lazily skimming the pages of the book in his hands. But then his lips twitched—amused or annoyed, you couldn’t tell. "Using me as a shield?" he mused, tilting his head just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. "Bold." His golden eyes flickered with something unreadable before he sighed and snapped the book shut. "Taehyung-ah, must you always turn everything into a performance? You’re worse than Jungkook."
Taehyung’s smirk was a blade in the dim light. "Just giving our little pet a proper welcome," he drawled, stepping closer. The rug muffled his footsteps, but you felt his presence like a storm rolling in—heavy, inevitable. His crimson gaze locked onto you over Jimin’s shoulder, and for a heartbeat, you swore his pupils slithered into something serpentine. "She should know her place."
Jimin's fingers paused mid-page turn, his golden eyes flickering up to meet yours with an unsettling calm. "You can go," he said, snapping the book shut with finality. The sound echoed through the library like a judge's gavel. "I have matters to attend to outside the estate." His smile was a thin veneer over something far colder.
Taehyung's smirk cut through the silence before you could exhale in relief. His lips brushed your ear—a mockery of intimacy—as he whispered, "Then we'll be alone in the mansion." The words slithered down your spine like ice water. He stepped back with a flourish, his crimson gaze lingering on your throat before he turned and strode from the library, his polished shoes clicking rhythmically against the marble floor until the sound dissolved into the shadows.
You didn't realize you were shaking until Jimin's sigh pulled your attention back. "Scared, huh?" He tilted his head, observing your white-knuckled grip on the bookshelf. "Yeah. Taehyung could kill you." A casual shrug as he straightened his cuffs. "He hates humans. Thinks they're cockroaches." Jimin gaze dropped to the tear tracking down your cheek.
Jimin began to walk, his footsteps making no sound on the polished floor. "Follow me," he commanded, his voice echoing slightly in the hollow hallway.
You hurried after him, your heart hammering against your ribs. Every shadow seemed to stretch toward you, and the portraits on the walls felt like they were tracking your movement with hungry eyes. Jimin stopped abruptly in front of a heavy, dark wood door—the entrance to your quarters.
He turned to face you, his golden eyes glowing with a sudden, intense light that seemed to pulse with power. He raised his hand, tracing a sigil in the air that left a faint, shimmering trail of blue light before it vanished into the wood of the doorframe.
"Now, go to sleep," Jimin said, his voice dropping into a low, resonant tone that felt like a physical weight on your mind. "I have placed a seal on this threshold. Neither Jungkook nor Taehyung can enter this room tonight. Within these walls, you are beyond their reach."
He stepped closer, his gaze pinning you to the spot. "But listen well, little bird: do not come out of this room until the sun is high in the sky. If you step over that line, my protection ends, and you will be at their mercy. And Taehyung... he has a very long memory for those who defy him."
He gestured toward the handle, his expression unreadable. "Go. Before they realize I've spoiled their fun."
The door clicked shut behind Jimin with finality, sealing you in the dim glow of the bedroom’s lone candle. As you lay on the expansive bed, the silk sheets felt like cold water against your skin. Your mind was a whirlwind. Why is he helping me? Is it truly research, or am I just a different kind of toy to him? Can I really trust a monster just because he’s the "kindest" of the three?
Exhaustion eventually won, pulling you into a deep, heavy sleep that felt more like drowning than resting.
But at midnight, the silence shattered.
"Noona... Noona, please! It hurts! Help me!"
The voice was unmistakable. It was Min-jun. Your eyes snapped open, your heart leaping into your throat. It sounded like he was right outside the door, his voice raw with a terror you had heard only in your darkest nightmares.
"Noona, where are you? The tall man... he’s taking me! Help!"
You were off the bed before you could think, your bare feet hitting the cold floor as you lunged for the door. Jimin’s warning echoed dimly in the back of your mind—*don’t leave this room*—but it was drowned out by the sound of Min-jun’s sobs. Your hand scrambled for the nightstand, snatching the silver cross you’d kept hidden beneath your pillow—the only scrap of light you had left in this house of shadows.Your fingers curled around the doorknob, the metal biting into your palm as you threw it open.
"Min-jun! I'm here! Min-jun—"
You stepped over the threshold and into the hallway. The air was ice-cold. But the hallway was empty. There was No Min-jun.
A low, dark chuckle vibrated through the air, coming from the shadows at the far end of the corridor.
"Such a predictable little heart," a voice purred. Taehyung stepped out of the darkness, his crimson eyes glowing with a terrifying, predatory glee. He was leaning against the wall.
"Jimin’s seal was quite impressive," Taehyung said, pushing off the wall and walking toward you with a slow, rhythmic grace. "I couldn't step in. But I knew you would step out."
Your breath caught in your throat. You tried to back away, but your feet wouldn’t move—whether from terror or some unseen force, you couldn’t tell. Taehyung stopped inches from you, his fingers trailing down your cheek with a mockery of tenderness.
"You humans," he murmured, his voice dripping with contempt. "So easy to manipulate. A child’s voice? The simplest trick." He tilted his head, his dark hair brushing against your shoulder as he leaned in close.
The silver cross trembled in your grasp as you thrust it forward, its chain rattling against your knuckles. Taehyung froze mid-step—then threw his head back and laughed. His fangs caught the dim light as his shoulders shook with genuine mirth. "Oh, little mouse," he wheezed, wiping an imaginary tear, "did you really think *that* would work?"
His hand shot out faster than you could blink, snatching the cross from your grip. You recoiled, expecting smoke, hissing flesh—but Taehyung only twirled it between his fingers like a cheap trinket. "Cute," he purred, leaning in until his nose nearly brushed yours. His breath smelled like frost and copper. "Shall I tell you what silver *actually* does to vampires?" The cross crumpled in his fist with a metallic whine. "Nothing."
The shattered pieces clattered to the floor between you. Taehyung's grin widened as you stumbled back, your heel hitting the wall.
"Let’s see if your God can save you from me tonight," Taehyung murmured, his voice a velvet caress that made your blood turn to ice. His fingers brushed your throat, tracing the frantic flutter of your pulse . "Shall we test that theory?"
The hallway tilted as he shoved you backward—not toward the bedroom, but down the corridor where the shadows swallowed the moonlight whole. Your choked gasp echoed off the walls, too loud in the suffocating silence. Somewhere distant, a clock ticked, each second measured like the countdown to an execution. Taehyung’s smile never wavered as he herded you toward the grand staircase, his steps unhurried, savoring your stumble. "Run," he suggested softly, fangs glinting. "It’s more fun when they run.
-----
The sheets twisted around Jimin’s waist silk clinging to sweat-slick skin as Mia arched beneath him, her breath coming in broken gasps. Moonlight spilled through the open balcony doors, painting her collarbones in liquid silver as Jimin’s fangs grazed the frantic pulse at her throat. "I love you," she whispered, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him groan.
Jimin chuckled against her skin, the sound vibrating through her ribs. "Say it again," he demanded, pressing a kiss to the hinge of her jaw.
Mia laughed, breathless. "I love you, you insatiable—"
Jimin's lips lingered against Mia's, the taste of her laughter sweet on his tongue. "I love you," he murmured again, savoring the way her pulse leapt beneath his fingertips.
Mia's fingers tightened in his hair, pulling just enough to make his breath hitch. "If you love me that much," she whispered, breath warm against his lips, "why do we only meet a few times a month?"
Jimin chuckled, rolling onto his back and pulling her atop him. The moonlight caught the amusement in his golden eyes as he traced idle patterns along her spine. "Missing me that much?" He nipped at her lower lip, grinning when she swatted his shoulder. "You know I have shooting schedules. The director would skin me alive if I skipped for a date."
Mia rolled her eyes, collapsing against his chest with a dramatic sigh. "Your *acting*," she grumbled, poking his ribs, "your *movies*—they always take your whole time. Do you even remember what my face looks like when you're not buried in scripts?"
Jimin caught her wandering hand, pressing a kiss to each knuckle. "How about this," he murmured, turning his head to nip at her earlobe. "After your exams, we disappear. Just us. Somewhere no one will recognize me." His fingers slid up her thigh, slow and teasing. "No cameras. No blood contracts. Just you, me, and a very large bed."
Mia's laugh was muffled against his collarbone. "Promise?"
Jimin’s smile he tucked a stray lock of hair behind Mia’s ear. "I promise, Mia," he murmured, his voice like velvet. "Just you and me."
Mia leaned back, her eyes searching his, a flicker of doubt crossing her sweet features. "Jungkook told me about her, Jimin. That girl... the one you three woke up with in the same bed. He said it was quite a scene."
Jimin’s expression didn't flicker, but inside, his thoughts darkened. Jungkook and his loose tongue. He rolled his shoulders, pulling Mia closer into the crook of his arm. "I really don’t remember that night, Mia. It’s a blur. I'm still trying to piece together what happened, but I’m certain of one thing: I didn't touch her. I could sense it... she’s still a virgin. My interest in her is purely professional—research, nothing more."
Mia exhaled a long breath she seemed to have been holding, resting her palm over his heart. "I trust you, Jimin. I really do. But... promise me you won't kill her. Don't let Taehyung or Jungkook kill her either. I don't want you to become a... a monster like the stories say. I want the man I'm holding right now."
Jimin tilted Mia’s chin up, his golden eyes glowing with an intensity that made her breath hitch.
"That little human girl is only breathing because of your promise, Mia," Jimin whispered, his voice dropping into a dark, resonant tone. "She lives because I love you. If it weren't for your mercy, I would've torn her throat out the moment she clawed into my bed that night." His fangs glinted as he spoke, the moonlight catching their razor edges.
Mia traced idle circles over Jimin's bare chest, her fingertips lingering on the old scar above his heart. "I hope your research works soon," she murmured. "That girl deserves to go home."
Jimin caught her wrist, pressing a kiss to her pulse point before flipping her onto her back with vampire speed. "No more talk about anyone," he growled playfully, nipping at her collarbone. "Right now, there's only you and me." His hand slid up her thigh as Mia gasped, her protests dissolving into laughte.
———
The wind howled like a dying thing as you sprinted through the mist-choked graveyard, your bare feet slapping against damp earth and slick cobblestones. The church loomed ahead—its spire a jagged silhouette against the storm-laden sky—but the distance seemed to stretch with every step. Behind you, Taehyung’s laughter curled through the dark like smoke, unhurried, savoring the chase. "Faster, little mouse," his voice purred from nowhere and everywhere.
You crashed against the church’s oak door, your palms stinging as you shoved it open. The scent of candle wax and old wood flooded your senses as you stumbled inside, gasping. The door slammed shut behind you with a sound like a tomb sealing. For one dizzying moment, you allowed yourself to believe—*foolishly*—that you were safe. That the stories were true. That hallowed ground meant something.
The door exploded inward with a crack of splintering wood, the force sending you sprawling backward onto the cold stone floor. Taehyung stepped through the wreckage, his polished shoes crunching over shattered oak like it was nothing more than brittle autumn leaves. "Boring," he sighed, rolling his shoulders with theatrical disappointment. "I *really* thought you'd run more. I was just starting to enjoy the rhythm of your panic." His crimson gaze flickered over the trembling votive candles, their flames guttering in the sudden draft.
You scrambled backward until your spine hit the altar rail, the carved wood biting into your shoulder blades. Taehyung tilted his head, his dark hair falling over one eye as he prowled closer. "Ah, a church," he mused, dragging a fingertip along a pew, leaving a trail in the dust. "You thought I couldn't enter here? How cute." His smile widened, slow and lethal. "Tell me, little mouse—do you honestly believe your God would waste a miracle on you?"
The stained glass saints watched in silence as Taehyung closed the distance between you, his shadow swallowing the pool of candlelight at your feet. He crouched, gripping your chin with glacial fingers, forcing your gaze upward. "Let's test that theory," he murmured, his breath frost against your lips. "Shall we see if He intervenes when I suck the last bit of warmth from your veins?" His thumb brushed your lower lip, smearing something wet—your own blood. "Or perhaps..." His grip tightened. "He's already abandoned you."
Taehyung’s grip tightened, his fingers pressing into the hollows of your cheeks hard enough to bruise. "Why not start begging?" he mused, his voice a velvet-coated blade. "Maybe I’ll show mercy. Or maybe I’ll just enjoy the sound of your voice breaking." His thumb dragged over your lip again, smearing blood. "Come on, little mouse. Beg for your life like the pathetic human you are."
Taehyung's fingers dug into your jaw as his lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Tell me," he murmured, his breath like winter against your skin, "did your pathetic human parents beg like this before they died? Or did they just—"
Your hand moved before your mind could catch up. The slap cracked through the church like a gunshot, snapping Taehyung's head to the side. A stunned silence followed. Even the candle flames seemed to freeze mid-flicker.
Taehyung turned back slowly, his crimson eyes wide with genuine shock. A single drop of blood welled at the corner of his lip where your ring had split his skin. He touched it absently, staring at the red on his fingertips as if it were a fascinating anomaly. Then—he laughed. A rich, delighted sound that echoed off the vaulted ceiling.
Taehyung's laughter faded into something darker, his amusement curdling into a predatory stillness. His tongue flicked out to catch the bead of blood on his lip, savoring it with a slow, deliberate curl. "Oh, little mouse," he murmured, his voice dripping with honeyed menace, "you just made this so much more interesting."
Taehyung's fingers tangled in the thin fabric of your top, wrenching it upward in one fluid motion. The cold air of the church bit into your exposed stomach, the altar rail digging into your spine as he pressed closer. "Stop—" you gasped, hands scrabbling against his chest, but his grip was immovable. His laughter was a dark hum against your throat as his other hand slid up your ribs, fingertips tracing the frantic flutter of your pulse.
"Look at you," he murmured, his breath chilling the damp skin beneath your jaw. "Trembling like a rabbit caught in a snare." You jerked backward, but his arm snaked around your waist, hauling you flush against him.
Taehyung’s knee pressed between your thighs, pinning you against the altar rail with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs. The carved wood dug into your back like a blade as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "You slapped me," he mused, his voice a whisper of dark amusement. "I should peel the skin from your fingers for that." His teeth grazed your earlobe—a sharp, warning sting. "But I think I'll take my payment another way."
His mouth crashed against your throat before you could scream. Fangs punched through flesh with a wet, brutal sound, and your vision whited out from the pain. Blood welled hot and fast, dripping down your collarbone as Taehyung groaned against your skin, his tongue lapping at the wound with slow, deliberate strokes. You twisted under him, hands shoving at his shoulders, but he didn’t budge—just bit deeper, sucking hard enough to make your knees buckle.
"Stop—" you sobbed, nails scraping uselessly against his silk shirt. The church spun around you, the stained-glass saints blurring into streaks of color. Your prayers dissolved into whimpers as Taehyung’s free hand slid under your torn top, fingers splaying over your ribs. "Please—"
Taehyung pulled back just enough to smirk at you, his lips smeared crimson. "Begging already?" He licked a stripe up your throat, catching a stray drop of blood. "You haven’t even felt the worst of it yet." His mouth found the curve of your shoulder next, fangs sinking in with deliberate cruelty. You arched against him, a broken cry tearing from your lips as he drank in slow, dragging pulls, each one sapping your strength.
Dizzy and fading, you turned your head toward the giant wooden crucifix hanging above you. The flickering light of the last dying candle played over the face of the silent statue. Your vision blurred with tears as you stared at the ceiling, a final, silent plea screaming in your mind.
Please... I don't want to die. Not like this. Save me... please...
But the only answer was the sound of Taehyung’s heavy, greedy gulps and the terrifying, relentless pull of his teeth against your skin, draining the warmth from your world until the light of the church began to fade into a cold, velvet black.
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@graydolan12 @livszolland
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#synopsis: just a normal day between you and the guy you met on a website
#tags: pwp, call sex, sex, vaginal fingering, a little bit of degradation kink, dirty talk, pjm has a big dick.
🌸 . . nsfw, +18 | ao3
────────────────── ୭ ──────────────────ㅤ
PJM: oh! i really want to make your pussy overflow my sperm when you scream for more like a little slut you are.
YOU: you just speak and speak but let’s be honest, for the message is sooooo simple.
PJM: make you cry on my dick is simple too. i promise.
you laughed, PJM really attracts you, you meet him at a website to talk to strangers, everything you know about him is that he is 31 years old and is really hot.
is not a website for sexting or something like that, but with the time just happened, one day he said that was so tired of his job and when you see, both of you are cumming thinking about each other.
since that is like a routine he's said that he's going to break your ‘thinny and little pussy’ or said how much he wants cum inside of you.
and you said too.
you said how he speaks so much and you don’t believe in anything since you see with your eyes.
whatever, you always finish the night fingering your cunt and moaning his name.
and this is what you are doing now.
PJM: don’t answer me, why, doll? your fingers are on your pussy again? want to feel my dick? can i call you now, baby?
YOU: of course
so, he's call.
a video call.
the first thing you see is his dick, wet on the camera, and after you look for the blonde guy, with that smile on his face.
the smile that made you cum for many times.
“still fingering this pussy for me, whore! i want you to see cum for me. i love when you always scream my name when that pussy decides that is too much.”
“i w-want, i wan-t y-you.”
“me?” hes laugh. “me or my cock? hm? you want my cock to stretch this pussy? this dirty pussy? or maybe your asshole? when you are in doggy style for me, is that you are, not? my dog?”
you really love when he speaks like that with you.
you thinkes what would it be like when you finish going to his bed.
“put on more. can you handle it? i hope so. you know that my cock is really bigger than this, no? so tell me, you will leave me put all this on you?” his pass the hand to along the entire length of your cock, looking at you.
“p-please”
“please? oh, you really want this fat cock on you? you going to open your legs to me?”
“j-jimin. can i-”
you couldn't take it anymore, the power that man had over you was pathetic.
“cum? already? so early?”
“please”
“what you doing when we meet? because i can’t stop to fucking you when you cum, i want to make you cum again and again, when you cry like a little slut because you never felt so good.”
“t-tomorrow” you said
“what?”
“in your house. tomorrow. just send me the fuck address before i give up”
“ok, princess, at your time,” he laugh. “cum for me first, i pass you the address after seeing you cumming.”
synopsis: you’re a successful entrepreneur in the beauty industry and after your assistant/best friend sees the spread in Korea GQ magazine of a popular k-pop artist, she gets him on the first flight to California to start a sponsorship deal, and it was none other than the world-renowned fuckboy you met at a product launch party for Gucci two years ago.
pairing: jimin x female reader x jungkook
rating: mature (18+)
genre: enemies to lovers, love triangle, angst, fluff, smut
warnings/content: swearing, employer/client relationship, past situationship, fuckboy!jimin, celebrity!jimin, love triangle, tattoo artist!jungkook, jin is reader’s lawyer best friend
explicit content: brief mentions of sex (varies between chapters)
disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction, and in no way does it reflect thoughts or acts of bts in the real world (:
♡ note: finally!! sorry it took me so long to release this. it’s been a long 4 months :’) also, thank you to everyone who has read, liked, and reblogged my writing and thank you so much for the comments as well, it means a lot to me :’)
there is quite a bit of angst in this chapter, enjoy lovelies! ♡
Previous
This has to be a fucking joke, you said to yourself as you stare at the messages on your phone, jaw agape in shock and your heart dropping down to your stomach.
Jungkook had already left before you woke up this morning, leaving a small, neatly folded note on your nightstand that contained his messy handwriting, telling you that he had fun and he couldn’t wait to see you again.
It was sweet, a warm and fuzzy feeling igniting in your tummy at the thoughtful gesture.
But every ounce of warmth you felt was replaced by your breath hitching and your blood running cold as soon as you opened Naiya’s messages.
You felt queasy, like the world was rocking underneath you and your body couldn’t catch up, the aftermath bubbling and waiting to spill after you’d tried so hard to keep it at bay.
Your ghost was coming back to haunt you, threatening to suck all the air out of your lungs and leave you to fight for your sanity.
Park Jimin. The stunning musician, model, dancer and actor; a jack of all trades, and a master of many. The man who is a muse in all art forms. He’s confident and assertive, reeling you in with a sickeningly-sweet smile and endless charm.
Seeing his name was like a punch to your gut, and the thought of him entering your safe space, your livelihood that you worked so hard for, was the icing on a melancholy, 2 year old cake that you hadn’t dared to touch in fear of reopening a wound.
Park Jimin was your ghost, pervasively seeping into every part of you and you weren’t so sure you could soothe the ache this time.
And to make things worse, your friends didn’t know who he was to you, hearing about your heartbreak in pieces through text messages and cryptic ‘I should’ve known better’s’. They never knew the mysterious guy who broke you, the one who grabbed hold of your heart before you’d even noticed, and crushed it with his own bare hands.
You fought it in silence and shame, spending days holed up in your apartment, detached and in denial.
You should’ve never fell for him.
And oh, how stupid you were to think that you could escape him forever.
Pairs of eyes followed you in fear as you stormed into the office building around 4pm, a scowl etched onto your features and breath caught in your throat. No one dared to get in your way, the staff almost holding their heads down as to not encounter your wrath.
The poor intern was even too scared to greet you and ask if you wanted any coffee, something she happily did every time she saw you.
Your heels met the ground with intimidating clicks as you swiftly and angrily made your way to the board room, only pausing your stride to wait for and enter or exit the elevator.
Once you made it to the top floor, the board room was straight ahead with doors of crystalline glass. Jin sat in a chair facing away from you while Naiya met your eyes on the other side of the door, and she gulped. You were seething.
You pushed open the door, and Naiya instinctively took a few steps back.
“Explain. Now.” You spat.
Jin swiveled in his chair to face you and gave you an inquisitive yet disbelieving look. “What crawled up your ass?”
Your eyes narrowed into slits, “‘What crawled up my ass,’ Jin?” You scoffed. “Park fucking Jimin, that’s what. Are you guys serious?”
Naiya chimed in, “Wait, but what’s wrong? What do you have against Jimin?”
Jin rolled his eyes at you, “Can you not PMS right now, please?”
“Fuck you, Jin,” Both of your friends went wide-eyed, “You have no idea what kind of position this puts me in.”
“Well, maybe if you actually told us what’s going on and why you don’t like him, we can get to the bottom of it so that everything goes smoothly,” Naiya was trying to be the peacemaker.
You chuckled dryly. “Hell no, there’s no way this deal is happening. Find someone else,” You began to turn on your heel, making an attempt to exit the room in frustration.
“I hate to break it to you, but that’s not possible anymore,” Naiya said with a frown.
You spun on your heels, “Excuse me?”
“There’s no way we’d find someone in time to replace him, not if we want to be on time with the launch, and you know how important that is. A-And, he’s is already in California,”
You laughed humorlessly, a look of disbelief adorning your features.
“He should be here any minute now,” Jin coughed awkwardly.
“You can’t convince me to work with Park Jimin. I won’t. We’ll figure something else out, no matter what it is.”
“Now, now,” You turned around upon hearing the door open, a slender, feminine hand placed on the hardware as your receptionist lead the way for the subject of the conversation, the one who turned heads and lit up a room. “Is that any way to greet your client?”
There he stood in all his glory, sleek suit and lavish shades on display, accompanied by a beaming, flirtatious smile.
“Jimin,” you greeted him with gritted teeth, forcing an upward turn of your lips.
“Long time, no see, doll.”
Clearing your throat, you looked Jimin directly in his eyes, an irritated glint accompanying your gaze. “Everyone, can you please give Mr. Park and I the room for a bit?”
You eyed his female counterpart—or, assistant, as he’d probably say—as she stood slightly behind him, clad in a blouse and pencil skirt, with red bottom heels that you’re sure Jimin paid for. She carried herself with poise, and she held her head slightly down, as if she questioned whether she was worth being chosen to come to this meeting. You had been like her once. Young, beautiful and easily manipulated, eager to people-please and have others be proud of the work that you did, longing to be appreciated and cared for by a handsome man who would love you.
She was too good for him. Too delicate.
You were like her once, but you told yourself that you would never be like that again.
She spoke up in a voice that was much too tender for the likes of him, “That won’t be needed, Miss. I am to accompany him during the meeting, as there is business invol–“
He waved her off before proceeding to unbutton his suit jacket, exuding an annoying aura of confidence that made you silently clench your teeth while he smirked. “It’s fine, Minji. She’s an old friend.”
She took a step back and held her head down as if she’d made a mistake, and your gaze softened upon witnessing her reaction.
“It’ll be quick, I promise,” you gave her a small smile, which she returned. “I will have my assistant lead you to our executive lounge so you can enjoy the amenities while Mr. Park and I catch up, and then we can speak about a potential partnership with you present, if that’s okay.”
She smiled at you, “Of course! Thank you Miss,” She waved before exiting along with Naiya and Jin, leaving just you and Jimin alone.
Suddenly the room became colder and the air heavier at the realization.
You went to sit on the opposite side of the table from where you were previously standing , aiming to place as much space between you and Jimin as possible.
“Sit.” You gestured to the chair across from you, making a point not to make eye contact.
“Someone’s a little bossy,” He said with a smug smile as he took his seat. “It suits you.”
You scoffed, clasping your hands together and resisting the urge to clench them out of irritation and anxiousness. “Cut the shit, Jimin. Why are you here?”
He raised a brow out of amusement and feigned offense. “I’m here for a contract.”
You narrowed your eyes, suspicion in your tone as you spoke. “See, I don’t think you need money that bad, Jimin. I’ve read the tabloids, seen the magazines. You’re successful and we haven’t spoken in years, so why not just keep the bridge burned?”
He smirked, “Someone’s been doing research on me, I see,”
Your glare was icy, your nonchalance being the cherry on top. “Trust me when I say that I wish I never heard of you at all.”
You didn’t see his minuscule flinch at your words, or how he actually used the excuse of loosening his tie to hide himself wiping away the clamminess of his hands.
The look in his eyes was different.
“Oh, poor thing, did I ruin sex for you with any other man? Is that why you hate me so much? I know it’s been some years, but I wouldn’t mind going again if it meant you’d take out the stick that’s far up your ass,” He fake-pitied you, taking out a piece of gum and popping it into his mouth.
You scoffed, mouth open wide in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Not in the slightest,” He winked. He took out another piece of gum and offered it to you, “Want one?”
“No, I don’t want your damn gum! Matter of fact, I don’t want anything from you. You can get the fuck out,” You stood up from your chair, making your way towards the door to escort him out.
He gently caught your arm before you got too far away, standing up himself and pulling you towards him.
The proximity between the two of you was close enough to feel his breath ghosting across your face.
Jimin’s voice was little above a whisper, tongue darting out to lick his lips before he spoke. “You can kick me out, but my business isn’t the one on the verge of collapse, doll. It may be a secret to everyone else, but I know you need this deal. I called myself doing you a favor, and you seem pretty ungrateful, hmm?”
Your breath hitched, as if the wind had been knocked out of you and you were struggling to come back down to earth. “I don’t need your charity,” you squeaked.
He provocatively tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a jolt of electricity you were fighting against because of the gesture.
“My charity, no, but the money you’ll get from my involvement, you do need that. Deny it all you want,” He said as he pulled away from you, flicking his suit jacket and smirking. “Your choice to drown or not.”
He walked away from you, heading towards the door to let himself out. He placed his hand on the hardware, fully ready to pull and rid himself of you if you declined his offer.
But to both your surprise, you gave in. Again.
“Wait,” You called out to him in a shaky, almost panicked voice, one that you hated to let anyone else hear. You felt too vulnerable, too fragile in this state, but if you wanted to be successful, sometimes you had to face things you didn’t like; even when said thing was the reason you questioned your self worth in the first place.
You turned around to face him, breath heavy and eyes downcast in shame that you needed him, needed the opportunity or everything you’d worked for could crash and burn in a matter of months.
You stood there frozen in place, fiddling with your thumbs and suddenly feeling powerless. He didn’t smile when he saw your unsteady hands. He didn't have an egotistical expression for once, and somehow that made you feel even worse. You didn’t want to be looked at with pity or seen as a failure, and that’s all that you radiated. And it was worse that Jimin could see it, too. “Will you stay?”
Jimin almost flinched at your small voice, something he didn’t experience often, and his gaze softened while directed at the ground. You were strong and he knew that, but your question threw him off, and upon seeing how what he said affected you, he questioned if he’d gone too far. He cleared his throat and his voice sounded strained,“ I’ll let Minji know to come back. I’ll stay.”
But he couldn’t look at you like this.
Not when it was because of him. Again.
“I believe that’s all we have to discuss; is that correct, Boss?” Naiya eyed you for approval, Jin having already gone over the contract with everyone in the room. All parties were in agreement of the $2million dollar arrangement for a contract of six months. It made sense, as much as you hated it—Jimin being onboard was bound to bring in tons of revenue and you’d be able to stay afloat, as expensive as your products were to make and maintain. He was doing you a favor and although you appreciated that your biggest problem was sorted out, you weren’t looking forward to the fact that there was almost certainly a catch. Why else would he come all this way, after leaving a bad taste in your mouth and not seeing you in years?
“That should be all,” You smiled, but it didn’t meet your eyes.
“Perfect!” Minji exclaimed, excited to be apart of the deal that occurred. She stood abruptly, eager to shake your hand and congratulate you and Jimin. “Congratulations and thank you for the opportunity,”
“Of course,” the upward turn of your lips was genuine this time, having been in the same position as her not that long ago.
Everyone stood and began to file out of the board room as the evening came to an end, but you noticed that Jimin was slower to wrap up the meeting. He dragged, as if he had more to say to you, as if he didn’t want to leave. And your heart couldn’t take that. Not again.
He buttoned his suit jacket before grabbing his folder filled with a copy of the contract and legal paperwork off of the table. He turned to see if everyone else left and you glanced at the doorway, seeing his assistant waiting patiently, as if adorning his features, eyes widening when she noticed he caught her staring.
He smirked but you knew it was an arrogant one, one that someone like her didn’t deserve. She deserved a heartfelt smile, a gentle gesture. You could tell she was sweet and by the way she lovingly took in his features, you knew there were feelings there. It almost didn’t hurt—you wanted to root for her. You wanted to coach him on how to finally treat someone right, show him that it was the same way that he should’ve treated you. But that time was gone now and while you recognized she harbored feelings, a pang of jealousy hit the pit of your stomach, twisting it in an uncomfortable knot. So, you stared — it was a distracted, almost blank gaze, but your eyes always did say more about what you were feeling than you did. Anyone from afar could tell that your gaze held a mix of emotion, from heartbreak and dejection to longing for what could’ve been and regret at the decisions you’ve made.
And you’d said to yourself a long time ago that you’d do the best you could at leaving the past in the past, but now it was coming back to haunt you in more ways than one.
He spoke to her in a passive voice, “There should be a car waiting for you outside of the lobby. I’ll meet you at the restaurant,”
She nodded, smiling glumly, and you could see the subtle hurt in her eyes. And then she glanced at you before disappearing from view, and it all made sense.
She fell too, didn’t she?
Your eyes were cast downward as you wiped your hands on your slacks, a lump forming in your throat that was hard to swallow.
You grabbed your things and planned to make a beeline out the door, planned to not spare Jimin another glance, but he was too quick. He knew you too well, and not well enough all at the same time.
“Wait,” he breathed, slightly unsteadily, almost as if he was surprised that you were moving so fast.
“For what, Jimin?” You turned to face him, eyes narrowed as they locked with his brown ones. “What could I possibly be waiting for? Because it’s not for you,”
“I thought we might’ve had more to talk about here, honestly,” his hand came up to run through his hair, something he usually did when nervous. But then again, he did that when experiencing every emotion possible, from what you remember.
“We could’ve had more to talk about 2 years ago, but you made it clear that we didn’t. Now there’s nothing for us except both of our ends of the deal.”
He chuckled dryly, licking his lips before responding. “It’s like that? After all this time?”
“You made it like that,” You said venomously through gritted teeth, getting dangerously close to him. You could smell his woodsy cologne, the same scent that you had to drive out of your mind, hoping to never smell it again because of what it’d remind you of. You took a few steps away from him, turning your back to him once again. “You made your bed, Jimin. And I can’t help you lay in it.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said, just above a whisper. You could hear the clench in his jaw, the anger that was only the tip of the iceberg.
And so you walked, not looking back, only stopping once to leave your mark and nothing more. “Piece of advice, Park: actions have consequences, and genuine favors don’t have hidden intentions. Don’t fuck up with her, too.”
You walked into the door of your condo, exhaustedly closing the door and dropping your keys on the marble countertop. Your small hands rested on the stone as your head hung low, the events of the day weighing heavily on you.
You shoulders began to shake as the mental load consumed you. The beginning of your tears stung, your lip quivering as the rain poured from your eyes.
You slid to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. You sobbed harshly, occasionally gritting your teeth when the pain felt overwhelming.
You hadn’t let this out in a long, long time. You felt safe enough, protected enough from that hurt you felt those years ago. You were certain your paths wouldn’t cross again since he went back to being on the other side of the world, but here you were, falling apart and breaking to pieces after looking into those eyes once again.
It winded you, seeing the way she looked at him. You thought it would’ve been you, running away into the sunset and basking in a love-filled haze where it would just be you two in the world. But you were wrong. So wrong, in fact, that even Jimin’s name left a bitter taste in your mouth. Something once so familiar left a broken heart-shaped bruise that you weren’t sure how to heal.
And in your absence of clarity and surety, you made the decision of reaching out to the person who made you get butterflies in your tummy instead of hornets stinging your insides.
you [7:37pm]: come over?
You waited about fifteen minutes, not knowing if he would respond. It was almost agonizing; the potential rendezvous wasn’t planned, after all. You couldn’t expect him to come running, not when you haven’t even been knowing each other that long, could you?
But then your phone made a familiar sound, and little bubbles formed in your stomach from excitement and anxiety, not knowing what the response would be from the other end of the line.
You picked up your phone slowly, wiping away a few tears so you could read the message clearly.
jungkook [7:52pm]: already ahead of you
You heard the buzz coming from the intercom seconds later, hurriedly standing up to answer it. You were afraid of how you would look to him, not having enough time to even change out of your work attire, having just sobbed your heart out — but as you answered the door, the look in Jungkook’s eyes told you that you didn’t need to be concerned with that. You were more than looks to him.
He set everything down on the floor — you took note of a bouquet of flowers, and a plastic Walgreens bag filled with things — and he cupped your face in his hands, staring at you with the gentlest of gazes. He could tell you were beyond hurt right now, that your heart was aching, and he didn’t bother to ask why — only what it was that you needed.
“How can I help?” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and gently caressed your cheek, wiping it free of the stray tear that was rolling down.
His question was so simple, so genuine in nature that it made you tear up more, almost to the point of not being able to answer him.
“Just make me forget,” you whispered, eyes darting across his face, taking in his furrowed brows, his worried eyes, teeth toying with his lip ring.
And so he wrapped your arms around his neck and pat the back of your thigh to signal you to jump, catching you before shutting the door with his foot.
He walked you both to your bedroom, your head resting on his shoulder as he carried you like you were a fragile piece of glass he didn’t want to risk breaking.
He delicately laid you down, once again tucking that same strand behind your ear after it fell out of place.
You felt safe as he hovered over you, his eyes gingerly taking in your features, appreciating you and tugging on your heart strings all the while.
“I’m here,” he whispered before his lips met yours in a soft attempt to comfort you and drown all of your negative thoughts.
But then that other pair of eyes popped into your mind, a harsh reminder of a painful reality; you clenched on Jungkook’s shirt in response, kissing him harder, trying to push away the thoughts of the man who broke you, that you never seemed to fully get over.
And you repeated the action until you needed to gasp for air, breathing heavily as the lines blurred and the tears of trying to forget started to come. And he held you through it, kissing you all the while.
I’m not yours anymore.
note: i hope you guys enjoyed this!! i love the angst in this so much,, i got so excited for where this story is going after i wrote it lol.
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"Sana, today's the day , I'm finally going to tell him," I announced bouncing on the balls of my feet.
Sana nearly chocked on her drink"About damn time Y/N ! ," Sana exclaimed, shaking me with over the top enthusiasm."Do you realise how torturous it was to listen to you babble about how perfect he is for so long?"
I rolled my eyes adjusting the strap of my bag. "Look,I couldn't just spring my feelings on him ... I had to give him time to move on from Mi-young. He really seemed to love her you know," My gaze drifted to the floor.
I had the fattest crush ever on Park Jimin . Okay maybe crush was an understatement. Though we rarely spoke and barely made eye contact his heart-stopping smile , kind hearted nature, and humility lead to the chambers of my heart involuntarily opening for him.
Sana rolled her eyes"Hmm sure ,I definitely believe that Y/N. Jimin is perfectly fine now trust me.I know you're scared shitless Y/N but you've got this! And if he rejects you-" she paused as my face visibly paled ,"which he won't ," she corrected waving her arms animatedly, "Then it's definitely his loss, I mean you're the Jeon Y/N!"
I snorted. "And he's Park Jimin....".
"Frick , you get the point !You're hot , smart ,athletic AND you have taste." Sana patted my back reassuringly
" Thanks Sana , I still feel uneasy ," I giggle awakwardly " I'm not backing out though! ,"I exclaimed grabbing the neatly wrapped gift I had got him from my locker smiling fondly.Jimin was an amazing guy this had to go well.
"Well I'm off , see you after lunch Sana!" I waved at her skipping off., my heart hammering in my chest.
I marched towards him.
Jimin stood alone at the end of the hallway glaring at his phone like it had personally insulted him. Well, great. He's already mad. This is off to a fantastic start .
Relief flood through me- his friends weren't around to witness my impending embarrassment at least .
I paused behind him taking in the sight of his beautifully dyed vermillion mop of hair . Now or never.
Summoning all my courage ,I tapped his shoulder lightly. The moment he turned around ,I was met with the sight of his breath taking features but in place of the usual smile on his face was a deep scowl . His facial expression screamed, "What the hell do you want ?"
Okay ..someone woke up on the wrong side of bed. Now I could feel my knees playing their own drum solo. Hopefully he didn't notice my pathetic nervousness.
He raised his eyebrow in confusion. Okay no!I can't back out now. I'm many things but a coward isn't one of them" Hi , Jimin can I talk to you for a second?" I stood as tall as I could willing my voice to stay steady.
He stared at me blankly."Uhh.. I guess ...." He replied with the enthusiasm of someone agreeing to taking out the trash.
I took a deep breath." Let me get straight to the point then so I don't waste your time," My fingers clenched around the gift bag tightly ,"Jimin I know we don't talk much but..I have a bit of a crush on you. I totally understand if you don't exactly feel the same way as I do but all I'm asking is for you to consider giving this a chance ?" I finished forcing myself to gaze deep into his pupils.
He blinked visibly unimpressed "Uh oh.." His expression faltered." A crush?" His tone flat like I had just confessed to liking plain toast.
I nodded curtly , heart hammering in my chest. "Yes a crush."
I studied his reaction.Maybe he was surprised ?It's not often when a girl approaches a guy first? But then came the words that made my stomach sink.
"I can't ," Jimin said in a firm tone but not unkind. "Besides the fact that I don't even know your name,"
Wait. What?!
My soul left my body. " Jimin we have been in the same classes since 10th grade."
He sighed."Oh...you never really stood out to me ,you know."
Okay ouch.
With no remorse he continued to shatter my hear with his words. " To be honest I'm just not interested."
My chest tightened "How can you be sure? You haven't even tried to get to know me though?"I swallowed my pride, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.
Jimin inhaled sharply."Yeah but I don't feel it." Feel what?! " I don't really feel a need to." His eyes flicked lazily over mine, like he was bored with the conversation. " Look you're nice and beautiful but you're not what I'm looking for."
"Oh. So I'm not your type ." He tried to argue but I cut him off before he could. "I get it Jimin I'm not Mi-young." Silence.
I let out a slow breath.No regrets ,at least I tried.
I forced a small smile"It's okay Jimin , I appreciate your honesty ."
My fingers tightened briefly around the gift bag before I shoved into his hands" This was for you , you can still have it , have a nice day . " Before he could protest,I turned on my heel and walked away with my dignity barely intact.
Did I really just get rejected? Dark thoughts lurked at the edges of my mind .It doesn't mean anything is wrong with me ...right? The sting of being rejected pressed harshly against my chest, but I pushed through it determined to let him or anyone see the glistening tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
So much for things going great huh?
𝟕 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑
The sharp,urgent sound of knocking jolted me awake from my reverie.I exhaled slowly exhausted."Come in Father," I called my voice unsteady.
The door slowly swung open revealing my father's figure. He stepped inside the spacious room."How did you know it was me dear..?"He mumbled taking a seat on the grey ottoman by the window decorating my office
I sent him a small smile."You're the only one who actually the deceny to knock around here."
He let out a soft chuckle-an awkward one at that -as if something weighed heavily on his mind." Ahh well that's nice to know." Something was definitely off. His voice lacked its usual assertiveness and warmth , his movements stiff and awkward.
He sighed loudly ."How are you dear?"
"I've been great just a bit busy," I studied his expression carefully."And you?“
"I am alright dear..."I rose from my chair" Hmm, did you come to inform me about something Father?" He spoke firmly, his facial features tightening."Yes actually... Y/N. It's a rather serious ."
A beat of silence followed. My fingers curled against the edge of my desk tightly " Alright, I'm listening.." My gaze stuck on his figure.
He inhaled sharply."You know our family has always valued tradition and the strength of family ties." I nodded urging him to continue. "It's what ensured our name remains respected and binds us to our legacy, " he paused shortly."Recently the Park family approached us with a proposal ."
I blinked . The Parks? The epitome of old-money.One of the most influential and probably most well-respected in Seoul. The name carried weight. Actually more than weight it carried authority and elegance. Even their fortunes eclipsed ours.
"A business proposal?That's wonderful news! "I exclaimed. He took a moment before speaking again"Y/N, they have a son. His name is Jimin," My eyes widened. Jimin- Park Jimin.That name sounded extremely familiar.Wait ....Park Jimin from high school? Hearing his name aloud after so many years left a bitter taste in my mouth. No it couldn't be .
"Jimin?" I repeated my voice more careful now.The next words that followed shook me to my core"They have personally asked for your hand in marriage ," He finished finally looking at me.
The silence that followed was deafening. My pulse thrummed in my ears. " Father...." I began, trying to steady my voice." You cannot be serious."
" I would never mention this to you if I weren't ," He replied
CROSS POSTED ON WATTPAD:
"Is this some sick plan of yours to get me to fall in love with you?"
" Don't get ahead of yourself Park, I'm only do
