M: Jimin - Tumblr Posts

Queen Of Hearts

Pairing: Jimin X Reader ft. Jaebum

Genre: Smut

Word count: 8,276

Summary: Being the biggest pornstar in the industry, your company hands you the yearly special valentine’s Day project. Each year you work with a new budding star and this year’s one is particularly famous for his pretty face and perky ass.

Or

Jimin is an up and coming pornstar who lands the biggest project of his life and the opportunity to work (or fuck) his biggest inspiration, you.

Warnings: switch!reader, switch!Jaebum, sub!Jimin, dom!Yoongi, dom!Jackson, shameless smut, pegging, name calling, mommy kink, sir kink, mistress kink, threesome, polyamorous relationship, bondage, spanking, sex toys, punishments, sex work, porn industry etc.

[a/n]: I apparently love piling work on myself cause I literally had no time to finish this so apologies if it’s terrible. The title has no correlation to the fic, I just couldn’t think of anything. Hope you enjoy over 8k words of pure, shameless smut.

“Cut” The director shouted and signalled to wrap up the shoot. Jinyoung rushed to you with a bathrobe, a bottle of batter and pack of wet wipes as you shook hands with your costar of the day. Your company had been wanting you to experiment a bit more in the BDSM space as you grew to be one of the most popular and loved porn stars in the adult industry.

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It’s hard waking up 

PAIRING: Jimin x reader

GENRE: Established/ Smut

WARNINGS: Male oral receiving, ejaculation, swallowing, swearing 

RATING: 18+

WORD COUNT: 6000

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend promises to make you breakfast but has a HARD time getting out of bed without you getting him off first. 

“Jimin shi, can you come help me?" 

Balancing the heavy paper bags on your hip, you struggled to fit the key into the lock. Finally managing to get it open you stuck your foot in the door jam as you rebalanced the groceries. 

The waves from his white noise machine flowed up the hallway giving you your answer. 

"10 am and still asleep, must be nice.” You muttered to yourself while laying everything out on the counter. 

You’d left your apartment early and gone to the market closer to his place in search of fresh eggs and bread. Jimin had promised that if you picked up the ingredients, he’d make you Gaeran To Su Tu. 

Having held up your end of the bargain, you snuck in to give the sleeping boy a wake-up call.

The top of his head was peeking out of the fluffy white duvet that he’d cocooned himself in. His dark hair fanned softly over his pillow, you knew if you leaned in, you’d catch the fragrance of his stupidly expensive shampoo. 

Carefully untucking the cover from under his hip, your slow and steady pull allowed you an opening to sneak in beside him. 

“Good morning,” he hummed groggily. “Did you just get here?" 

Freeing his arms from the blanket he pulled your hips into him. 

"It’s been about 5 minutes.”

Running your hands through his hair the scent was just as suspected.

“Some of us have been awake for hours, I honestly thought you’d at least be up and have some coffee ready for me.”

He gave a scrunch of his nose before he nuzzled it into your neck.

“I can’t get up,” his warm breath tickled, making you squirm. “It’s too hard." 

"Jimin there’s nothing hard about it. You set an alarm, you get up and you start your day. It worked for me, I’ve been up for hours." 

"No, Baby,” he pressed his hard-on against you while still managing to look shy and innocent. “IT’S too hard.”

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Ignorantly, Yours

Word Count: 10.6k

Pairing: Alpha!Jimin x Omega!Reader

Genre: Wolf!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU; fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: dom!Jimin, sub!reader, A/B/O dynamics, heat sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk (including a bit of possessiveness), marking, creampie, hair pulling, degradation, praise, rough sex, multiple orgasms

Rating: 18+

Summary:  You never could have expected your best friend to show up at your apartment right as you were about to go into heat, but when he did, something in you just wouldn’t let him go.

A/N: Truly, this was never supposed to be more than drabble. Which truly became a nuisance once it grew a lot and I had to go back and change a lot of things during editing. This is my first fic with some sort of supernatural element to it, and I had a lot of fun! I hope you guys enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Reposted without the header gif and without any links or taglist. Sorry for any inconvenience if you were already looking at the first post. I will reblog with the taglist shortly.

–

Maybe it should have been embarrassing.

Maybe it was, 5 years ago when the habit first started.

5 years ago, when you’d had your first pre-heat. When the world had quickly become too overwhelming, your nose unused to the myriad of scents that assaulted you in your sensitivity. Your skin feeling so raw that even the clothes on your back felt uncomfortable.

It was then, in your childhood bedroom, amidst everything else, you recognized a scent that accompanied you through your life for as long as you could remember. A scent that felt like home, felt like warm days under the sun and shared laughter under blankets at midnight.

Your nose had led you to the bottom drawer of your dresser, your hands digging through the mess of fabric there until you pulled out an orange hoodie. You didn’t remember ever having it, and it looked small enough to have been from years ago – maybe even from before he presented.

But as you pulled it out of that drawer, the scent that might have been faint to you any other day filled your nostrils. A blueberry and pine scent that left you feeling calmer instantly, safer. Whether that had to do more with your friendship or his alpha status wasn’t a thought that crossed your mind. All you knew at the time was that it made everything better – he made everything better, even when he wasn’t there.

That marked the first time you laid in your bed, curling yourself around that small piece of comfort, your face shoved into the soft fabric. The peace that washed over you then was addicting, and any thought of giving up that feeling was unfathomable.

And if Jimin noticed how you were covered in his own scent when he saw you after every heat since that day, he didn’t say a thing.

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This was so good💌 so well written! I really enjoyed it💜💖

code blue | pjm

⤑ series: less of you

⤑ pairing: fratboy!jimin x dancer!reader

⤑ genre: angst // smut !!

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 7.1K

⤑ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, slight dry humping, nipple play, oral sex (m. receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, jimin lowkey gets emotional, mirror sex, ball play, brief handjob, masturbation, cum shot, slight voyeurism if you squint, exhibitionism, fingering?? yeah i don’t remember, but probably.

⤑ chapter song: code blue // the dream

⤑ A/N: this is out much later than i had wanted :( // but this was fun to write like a lot of my written parts for this fic. i think im juss in love with these two, bc. i hope you guys really like it! don’t forget to let me know what you think x

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everybody knows, but you - jimin x reader {preview}

pairing: park jimin x reader

genre: friends to lovers angst, fluff, smut

the story is a vignette, told through moments in jimin’s life over time and place, when the people closest to him realize that your feelings for each other were far beyond just platonic.

synopsis: park jimin was your favorite person in the world, ever since you started working at their company as an assistant choreographer, he’s always been there for you, through thick and thin.  his existence was comforting in a way you couldn’t put in words. he just had that way about him. 

what happens when you start realizing that your feelings for your best friend might be much more than you thought? somehow, everybody except the two of you seem to know exactly what’s going on and the both of you couldn’t be more oblivious.

preview: through the eyes of jeon jungkook

Jeon Jungkook had spent almost half his life in the company of Park Jimin, yet he was absolutely sure he had never seen him like this; the lighting in the room was haphazardly moving, as if in the confines of a club, and Park Jimin’s smile was the fullest he had ever seen. His eyes were crinkled, his head thrown back with the carefreeness and delicacy of a child as he twirled around the room. Jimin was never one to shy away from attention, so it didn’t surprise anybody that he was stood in the center of the room, dancing away with you like he didn’t care. What did surprise Jungkook was the fact that nobody noticed. Nobody seemed to look at the two people in the middle of the room, hand in hand, laughing hysterically, barely being able to hold each other up, except him.

Friends of the members poured in and out of the rooms, blurring in front of his eyes as he took in another sip of his drink. Despite the chaos and the crowd, and the heat slithering off the bodies, he could easily spot one person, and that was Park Jimin.

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My heart ached for the reader, all they wanted was a companion😔 it has to suck but at the end of the day he is a ghoul so I don't know what they were expecting. This was so well written! I've been waiting for this fic to drop ever since it popped up in the jimin x reader tag. I have so many questions but this was beautifully done and thank you for writing it! I enjoyed it so much💖💜🥰

Apothic | pjm

pairing: yandere!zombie!jimin + g/n reader

word count: 6.1k+

genre: thriller, fluff(?), mild angst

warnings: GORE, violence, puking, obsessive thoughts, death, zombie cannibalism, is it necrophilia when it’s a zombie?? (sorry if i forgot anything)

— synopsis: Ever since the apocalypse hit, it’s been kill or be killed. So, what are you to do when a ghoul would kill for you instead of kill you?

Fuck, no more canned ravioli. Chef Boyardee will be dearly missed.

You crack a smile at your own thoughts while scanning the supermarket aisle, a flickering fluorescent overhead. Dirt and various food wrappers litter the tiled floor that you tiptoe on with sock-covered feet, shoes in hand in order to make as little sound as possible. You’ve yet to see a ghoul in this supermarket, but better to be safe than sorry.

With every item you stuff in your bag, a small sigh of relief passes through your lips. Going nomad helps a lot with your need to be alone, but also comes with many cons. Sitting at the very top of the list is being cautious. If ambushed by a group of ghouls, you must find a way out all on your own. It’s a risk you’re willing to take. But you’re not stupid enough to be noisy, whether you’re really alone or not.

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rules of the game

wc: 6.7k summary: you and jimin spend nights and office days playing debauched games with each other. but in a game where neither of you have defined the rules, how do you determine who’s the winner? trigger warnings: dubious consent + threesome (mmf) in one scene (towards the middle/end), heavy sadism/masochism (including but not limited to: humiliation, flogging) throughout, zero aftercare throughout

also, this is somehow also a hp!au with slytherin!jm and hufflepuff!reader though it’s not based in hogwarts AND ALSO an office!au wherein reader fucks her boss. also it’s … debatable whether it’s just pwp. it’s a story told through sex. and dicon jm is how i imagined him to look. notes: DO NOT TAKE THE WARNINGS LIGHTLY. this is a somewhat dark story, jm rly is a sadist. he is not nice. at all. a/n at the bottom.

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.

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The first time you saw him, your breath caught in your throat.

Beautiful, you had thought helplessly to yourself.

It wasn’t just his looks, you were convinced. It was the power he exuded, a tease of a promise of the sort of thing you were looking for but never dreamed you could have.

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good for you || Jimin

Pairing: Jimin x reader

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

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: PWP / Porn With Feelings, Fwb!au

Tags & Warnings: smut, (sub!jimin kinda, soft dom!reader, oral (male receiving), vaginal sex, praise kink, sub space I think), explicit language.

Also available on Ao3

A/N: I really needed to write that one to get it out of my mind lol. It’s really just smut. It’s also technically a college AU but it’s not mentioned at all so yeah, do with that what you will. I might write some more for this AU after I’ve written more for if I can never give you peace but yeah, in the meantime I hope you’ll enjoy this!

It seems that Jimin just can’t stop drowning himself in you.

He doesn’t mean to, really, nor did he mean for it to happen. He didn’t realize the power your eyes could have on him, didn’t think he would end up only able to think about you and your lips, didn’t imagine that after getting a taste he would constantly long to be back in your arms. Even when he waits for you to text, checking his phone more than he’d like to admit, he tries not to think about what you do to him exactly.

And then you do text, and he’s already ready to go and meet you, because he misses your touch so badly. When he gets there, you open the door and you smile at him, and he knows, he just knows. He’s a goner.

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Show Me | pjm (m)

Summary - Jimin shows you how good he can make you feel.

Word Count - 2146

Pairing -  Jimin x reader

Genre - smut

Warnings - penetrative sex, exhibitionism, voyerism, dirty talk, dom jimin

a/n -  another re-write from a previous fandom. :)

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FROM AFAR | PJM

Pairing: Yandere! Professor Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 3.4K

Warning(s): Obsessive behavior, somnophilia, NONCON touching + video recording, smut, mentions of infidelity, drugs, alcohol, (11 year age gap) reader is 18!

Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with the topics above.

A/N: Hi! Here’s an EXTREMELY late valentine’s gift for each and everyone of you, but better late than never, am I right?

What a sick sweetness he carried. The love he possessed for a forbidden woman, a woman eleven years his junior. She was so immensely intelligent, so sweet and kind, so meek that it would melt his heart like butter whenever she would approach his desk unaware of his pounding heart, excessively beating in his chest, caused by her delightful presence.

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just dance it off (18+)

➵ Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader

➵ Summary: When you hear that you are cast as the female lead in the upcoming end of the semester show, you are completely thrilled. That is, until you hear who your partner is…

➵ Genres: smut | angst | fluff

➵ AU: dancers | enemies to lovers

➵ Word Count: 9.4k

➵ Rating: explicit | mature | 18+

➵ Warnings: explicit and unprotected sex | jealousy | masturbation | mentions & use of alcohol | underage drinking | use of fake ID | mild exhibitionism | creampie | hair pulling | angry sex | nipple play | degradation | dirty talk | overstimulation | heavy teasing & banter | edging | orgasm denial

➵ Other: if you’d like to join my tag list please fill out this form.

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despite it all • park jimin

chapter one — bandaid

plot — you never could ignore someone who needs help. not even a gang member.

words — 3.1K

You were walking home from a night out with friends, the pleasant buzz of alcohol in your veins making you feel giddy and floaty as you hummed softly. The street was quiet but in the distance you could hear people laughing, sirens of an ambulance, a barking dog and it gave you a sense of security and familiarity.

What was most definitely not familiar was the man rounding a corner, and almost slamming into you. You yelp, taking a quick step backwards, heart stopping before it skyrockets. You have apparently underestimated the amount of alcohol you've had to drink because that quick step causes you to loose your balance, and unable to regain it, you fall to the ground, landing ass first.

You contemplate just sitting there until the morning but when the man you almost bumped into lets out a pained groan, your eyes flicker up to him. Horror fills you as you take in his blood stained appearance. There is blood on his shirt, his pants, his face. His one hand was holding his side and his knuckles are bloody.

You scramble to your feet, suddenly much more sober than you were two seconds ago, "Oh my God, are you okay? Ah, nevermind, stupid question. You're covered in blood, you couldn't possibly be okay. Is there someone I can call for you? Ohhh, I know, I can call an ambulance."

A hand grasps around the wrist of the hand going for the phone on the inside pocket of your jacket, fingers strong and grip tight. His voice is low and husky when he speaks, "No. No ambulance."

Trying to press down the mounting panic in your chest, you swallow thickly. "Dude, not to be stating the obvious, but you are covered in blood."

"Most of it's not even mine." He says around a cough, eyes drooping, bracing himself against the wall.

Your eyes widen when you process his words and you twist your wrist in his grip, wanting to pull away and run. You clear your throat, running your eyes over him. "Well you look like you're going to be fine, so I'll just go."

He nods tiredly, letting go of your wrist, a strand of his blonde dyed hair falling into half closed, exhausted eyes, his breathing hard, and your heart twists. You want to help him and you're about to offer, when you remember his words from just seconds ago.

Most of it's not even mine.

Which means that he probably hurt whoever's blood is on him. Which means that this is a dangerous person, the kind of person you run from, not help. Judging from the tattoo in his neck, he's in a gang. You don't know what exactly everything about the different gang tattoos and what every stripe or cross means but everyone knows that anyone with a serpent tattoo is part of the most dangerous gang in the province. Maybe even the country.

You walk past him, intent on going home and forgetting about this incident. Your try putting it out of your head as you cross streets and your small apartment comes closer, but it doesn't work. At the next street you have to cross, you look back, and see the man still bracing himself against the wall as he walks slowly. He stops, resting with his back against the wall.

You bite your lip, your heart at war with your head, torn between doing the right thing and the safe thing. You look at the man again – gang member or no, he's still a person who needs help – and your heart wins the fight.

"Fuck it." You mutter to yourself before taking of in a light jog, back to the injured man. His body tenses up, like he's preparing for a fight, and his eyes snap open when he hears you approaching, hard and cold and it terrifies you a little. It's almost enough to make you turn around again. But then recognition flashes in his eyes and his tensed shoulders relaxes. You look at him silently for a moment and then you blurt out, "Where are you hurt?"

"None of your fucking business." He breathes, moving his eyes from you to the night sky.

"Rude." You clack your tongue at him, risking a step closer. "Are you bleeding anywhere? Or is all of this blood the other guy's?"

He looked at you again, something feral and definitely dangerous glinting in his eyes. "Who says there was just one?"

Instead of fear, you can feel your annoyance rising, "Can you answer the question and stop deflecting?"

His brows furrowed, clearly confused. "What are you doing here? Weren't you on your way home or something?"

Fully annoyed now, you glare at him. "I'm trying helping you, you ungrateful ass."

Amusement flickers in his eyes, "Well you're not doing a very good job of it."

"Well, you're not making it very easy." You retort, deciding to just take matters into your own hands. You step close to him before taking his arm and bringing it around your shoulders, noticing that he winces when you lift his arm. "Let's go." You tell him, tugging gently until he starts walking in the direction he came from and where you're going.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" He asks. You glance up at him, seeing a smirk on his lips.

"I have some idea." You say, giving a pointed look to the tattoo in his neck.

"So, you know I'm in a gang." He concludes. "And that I most likely got my injuries from doing something illegal."

"Yes." You nod. "And speaking of injuries, are you bleeding?"

"Not that I know of." He answers. He wobbles a bit and you stop, waiting until he regains his footing before continuing. "And you don't care?" He asks curiously.

"Of course I care and in normal circumstances I'd probably call the police, but you're hurt and you need help, not the police. So, I'm going to help you."

"What if I'm an assassin with a thing for cutting woman into pieces?" He sounds amused, like this whole situation is a source of entertainment for him.

"Wouldn't that be a way to go." You deadpan.

He snickers and then goes quiet for a while before asking, "Are you going to call the cops?"

"Are you going to hurt me?" You ask instead of answering.

"No." He sounds like he means it but that doesn't really reassure you. "Not unless you give me a reason too." And that actually does make you feel a little better.

"Well, there you go then." You tell him.

"I should just take your word for it?" You can feel him looking at you, but you ignore his gaze, focusing on watching your step. He wasn't resting all of his weight on you, you could tell, but the added weight still slowed you down and caused strain on your muscles but you ignore it, intent on helping him.

"Considering the fact that I'm taking a stranger who is a literal gang member and a potential killer into my home, you really don't have any ground for that argument." You inform him matter-of-factly. You rewind your words and lament that maybe your are as crazy as your cousin accuses you of being.

"Your home?" He whistles, but starts coughing halfway through. "Buy a guy dinner first."

"Hah!" You scoff, ignoring the way your cheeks burn from his teasing. "I'm helping you. If anyone is going to be buying dinner, it's going to be you."

"I'm Jimin, by the way. If you're going to help me, the least I could do is tell you my name." He says, and when you look at him, he looks sincere and a little shy.

"Y/N." You tell him.

You reach your apartment without any incidents or without running into anyone – a man covered in blood would have raised questions – and you navigate it in the dark, leading him to your couch before going back to the door and locking it and flipping on the lights. You turn back to him, watching as he looks around your place. You couldn't help but feel a little self conscious. "I know it's no palace, but it's mine and you're only gonna be here for one night. Unless you plan on leaving directly after I help you."

"I like it, it feels comfortable. Like a home." Jimin tells you, face softer than its been since the moment you met him. You stare a little, but then you notice the blood on his face again and you look away.

"You should go and take a shower. I'll give you the biggest clothes I'll have, so don't worry about that. I'll wash yours and put it in the dryer, so it will be clean for when you leave. I'm pretty sure if you walk down the street with blood stained clothes in broad daylight, someone is bound to call the police." You are rambling and you're perfectly aware of it, but you're nervous.

He nods and gets to his feet, wincing. "Which way is the bathroom?"

You point, "Down the hall to your left. Do you need help?"

Jimin gives you a slight smile, "I'll manage."

You wait until you hear the shower running before you go to your room, hunting down your biggest hoodie and pair of sweatpants. You knock on the bathroom door, letting Jimin know you're leaving the clothes outside the bathroom door.

You wait on the couch for Jimin to finish, wondering what your mother would say if she could see you now.

You bite down a smile when Jimin comes out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair. The sweatpants are obviously too small, ending high above his ankles, the fabric stretching over his thighs – and if you spend an extra second looking at those muscular thighs then it was no one's business. The hoodie seemed to fit just right, but he didn't zip it up. Your eyes is glued to his chest, not because it was eye-catching – oh and it was eye-catching alright, a defined six pack was waving at you almost mockingly – but because of the bruises.

"Like what you see?" Jimin's teasing voice brings you out of your staring stupor.

"I-" You cut yourself off, suddenly choked up by emotion.

His eyes widened and he walks as quickly as he can to you. "Hey, no, no, it looks worse than it is. You should see the other guys."

"That doesn't really make me feel better, but thanks for trying." You tell him, blinking hard, and getting up from the couch. "I'm going to get my first aid box."

While in the bathroom, you toss Jimin's bloody clothes into your cleaning bucket, making a mental to wash it as soon as you're done helping him.

You walk to where he's sitting on your couch, going down on you knees so you could face him. You notice the gun laying next to him and your heart almost jumps out of your chest. You give him an unimpressed stare, "Seriously?"

He gives you a smug smirk, "It's for protection."

"From what? My bandaids?" You ask sarcastically.

"Gang member, remember?" Jimin says, like you need the reminder, and you pull a face at him.

You ignore his chuckle to inspect his face, and the first thing you notice is how attractive he is. (But that doesn't matter because you're only helping him and then he's leaving.) The second thing you notice is that there is just a few scratch marks on his face, nothing too serious. You clean it up with some antiseptic, a little impressed that he doesn't even wince.

"Okay, I need to take a look at your chest now, make sure none of your ribs are broken, so will you sit a little forward?" You ask him and Jimin does as he's asked.

"You don't seem too bothered by the presence of a gun." Jimin comments, obviously curious as you run your hands over his ribs (he tenses for the first five seconds then relaxes), pressing against it, feeling carefully.

You shrug, "My dad was a cop, and while he didn't parade his around, I got used to them nonetheless."

"Past tense." Jimin observes, eyes on your face. You can feel his gaze and it causes goosebumps to rise on your skin. "Is he dead or retired?"

Your hands falter for a moment at the blunt question. You swallow thickly, continuing your path over his ribs. "He died in the line of duty."

"What happened?" He asks.

You look him in the eye, "He got caught in the crossfire of a gang war."

"Oh." Jimin sounds like someone knocked the breath from him. Silence falls around you and it lasts until you finish your exam of Jimin's chest before he says, "I'm sorry."

You look up, "Are you really?"

"What's that suppose to mean?" He frowns at you.

"Don't say something you don't mean. I'd prefer it if you said nothing at all." You eye the bruises on his chest, wondering how people can do that to each other. "There doesn't seem to be anything broken but you definitely cracked a few of them and it's gonna hurt like a bitch, come the morning."

"How do you know all of this?" He questions.

"I'm a paramedic." You answer, reaching for his left hand, remembering that his knuckles was bloodied before the shower.

"That explains a lot." He grabs your wrist with the hand you're not holding, holding onto it almost gently. "Look, about what you said just now, you're helping me despite the fact that it could have been one of my people that killed your dad." He squeezes your wrist, looking into your eyes imploringly. "I mean it."

You shrug, tilting your head. "Yeah, well, my mom always said I can't hold a grudge to save my life."

When you're done cleaning up and bandaging his hands, you pick up the bottle of pills you brought with you. You shake out a few pills before standing to go and fetch him a glass of water. You held out the water and the pills onto him, "Here. You've got to be in a world of hurt right now."

"What is that?" He asks, eyeing the white tablets laying on your hand.

You sigh, "Just some paracetamol. It's all I have. Just because I'm a paramedic doesn't mean I keep hospital grade medicine stocked in my home."

"Four of them?" Jimin's eyebrows went up. "Are you trying to overdose me?"

You squint at him, "Don't be such a baby. I take three at a time for my headaches and I am willing to bet my right kidney that you're hurting worse than my headaches usually are."

You pack up your first aid box and when you put it away, you bring the bucket with Jimin's bloodied clothing. You filled it halfway with water and then walked to the kitchen. You empty half your salt supply into the water before using your hands to rinse the clothing.

"Why are you washing my clothes with salt?" Jimin's voice comes from behind you.

You startle for a second before taking a deep breath and answering him, "I'm not washing it, I'm rinsing it with cold water and salt, to get the blood out of your clothes."

"Seriously? That works?" Jimin asks, surprise clear in his voice.

"Yep."

"I could have saved so much money that I wasted on new clothes each time I had a bloodstain on something, if I had known that." He whines and you look over your shoulder, finding yourself strangely endeared when you see the pout his lips is pulled into.

"I'd rather not know." You snort, shaking your hands off and heading to the sink to wash them. You dry your hands, leaning against your counter as you let the clothes soak for a bit.

"You haven't asked." Jimin says out of nowhere. He was leaning against your fridge, looking exhausted, but his eyes watched you intently.

You know what he was talking about. The bruises, and where he got them, the other guys he mentioned. He had been expecting you to ask, and you never did. You cross your arms over your chest. "It's none of my business."

"It's not." He agrees.

"See." You give him a slight smile.

"Still. Most people would ask." He says, tilting his head as he looked you up and down.

"Yeah, well, I figure I'm better of going down Plausible Deniability avenue and Better Of Not Knowing street in this case."

That gets a genuine laugh out of him, his eyes scrunching and a breathtaking smile on his lips. It's bright and cheerful and your stomach swoops. You are unable to not smile back at him.

After rinsing his clothes and putting it in the washing machine, you go back to the living room, only to find Jimin fast asleep on your couch. Something inside of you goes very soft as you watch him sleep. He looks years younger, completely relaxed.

You take the step ladder from your kitchen and tiptoe back to your room, getting the extra duvet from the top of your closet. You grab one of the four pillows on your bed and you head back to the living room. Gently, you lift Jimin's head and slip the pillow underneath it, half afraid he would wake up. When he doesn't, you breathed a quiet sigh of relief and throw the blanket over him. As you tuck him in, you spot the handle of his gun, pressed into the back of the couch.

You hope the safety is on.

***

When you wake up the next morning, Jimin is gone.

Placed on top of the pillow and folded duvet stacked on your couch, is a piece of paper with writing on.

Y/N,

I put your clothes in the washing machine after getting dressed, so you just have to dry it. I figured it was the least I could do after all the trouble I gave you.

I mean what I said last night, I really am sorry about your dad.

If you ever need my help, doesn't matter if it's something dumb like a lift somewhere or something a little more serious like taking someone out for you, you can find me at the bar on 17th Street. Chances are, I'll be there. If not, ask for Taehyung and tell him Jimin sent you.

Thank you for everything.

- Jimin -

P.S. I hope I see you again someday.

***

chapter 2

A/N: this is going to be a multi-chapter/part story. I don't know how many yet, just that there will be more!! Also, I am not a medical professional, so just go with the medical inconsistencies. I promise they won't be too far fetched.

Paring: calico cat! park jimin x female! reader

Genre: hybrid | fluff | semi smut

Warnings: lactation kink, really cuddly jimin, jimin honestly really want you to have his kittens :(, subby chim, grinding, too cute confessions, this is pretty tame.

It felt the same word repeated like a broken record for hours. “Noona!” the cat hybrid cried for the hundredth time. Jimin jumped on the couch while having a fit.

He took your shoulders and shook them, “Noona! Pay attention to me!!” You didn’t though, maybe you liked his whining and begging too much. You forced your eyes to stare at the tv and not at the needy kitty whining at you.

Still ignoring him, you played another episode of the tv show. You mentally laughed at Jimin knowing he was working himself up.

His eyes swelled with tears, he never liked being ignored. “No-Noona..” “Sh, I’m trying to watch a show Jimin.”

You ignored him until he hit his breaking point. He rose your oversized shirt up and disappeared his upper half inside of it. You felt something sucking on your nipple. You groaned, already knowing it was Jimin. You lifted the top of your shirt up to see him, “You dirty kitty.” Jimin whined at the name you gave him.

He did this every time you were about to ovulate. Why? Oh, because he wants to give you his kittens.

He’d try to suck milk out, but it wouldn’t work, he came out from your shirt. Droll remained on the side of his mouth. He laid on top of you, resting his head in your neck. He started to knead on your shirt while licking your neck.

You lifted your hands to scratch his little cat ears. Which made purring erupt from Jimin, making him blush from how loud he sounds.

“Noona..” Jimin said while hiding his face further into your neck. He whined before moving himself up and down your thigh. “Noona.. wanna-” “What baby?” “Wanna give you kittens.. ngh-” He said while moving his hips faster.

“Wanna give you my kitties!—” Jimin said with a whiny moan. You smiled to yourself, hearing him be so honest to you made your heart flutter. You kissed his temple, giving him little pats softly on his head.

His little hips started to stutter while his whines because more constant and loud. He grabbed onto your shirt for dear life while his climax hit him, he let out a long, strangled moan in the process.

Coming down from bliss, his body came on you while he laid on you defeated. His tail swung behind him, jerking up once in a while, ears twitching. He pressed a wet kiss against your neck before letting go of your shirt to knead on you.

“Jimin, were you telling the truth.. about you wanting me to have your kittens?” He removed his head from the depths of the side your neck. “Yes, I-I’ve thought about it for a while now.. we- you don’t have to do it.” His little blonde ears went down slightly. You grabbed his face and gave him a little peck before responding to him, “Of course I want to. I just- thought you wanted.. you know, another cat hybrid as your mate,”

Jimin looked at you offended. “Why would I want anyone besides you, ___?” his shyness started to occur, causing him to play with his sweater paws. “I have always wanted to be your mate Noona.” Hearing that made your eyes start to become glossy. “Don’t ever think of that Noona, because I will only ever want you.”

“Okay Kitty, are you sure about this?” “Yes Noona.” You played with his hair, staring into his eyes lovingly. “I can’t wait to see you with my kitties, you’ll be so round and full. I even get to see your milk filled boobies.. you’ll let me have some?..” You could only smile at the daydreaming cat, who kept mumbling and babbling about the family you would soon create. You could never ask for a better life, or a better kitten.

A/N: this is a collab fic i made with @ryux !! you can read her’s here! <3

© Kittymyg

lips? sealed. legs? spread.

premise. because of the pandemic, you’re forced to have your graduation online. but that’s not stopping you from driving down to the beach to celebrate with your friends. it just so happens that you’re the main attraction of the night.

muses. jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jeongguk x reader, yoongi x reader, yoongi x jimin.

word. 3.6k

warnings. consensual gangbang. public sex. unprotected sex. sex on the beach. bigdick!tae, bigdick!jeongguk, thick dick!jimin

note. this is pure absolute filth. idek why i wrote this.

x

it started with truth or dare before the word “boring” comes out of park jimin’s mouth and a “strip” added to cure that boredom to get you through the night. lisa manoban ends up stripped down to her panties and bra and steps out of the game.

“nah, i’m out, you guys have fun though.” she waves her hand in surrender, picks up her clothes and slips away from the circle to emphasize on her withdrawal from the game.

a series of ‘aww’s and ‘boo’s follow from you and the rest before hoseok disappears five minutes later, saying something about needing to take a number 1 but never coming back and getting forgotten by everyone.

he’s probably left to check up on lisa who said she was going to grab some snacks from the convenience store that’s just three minutes away from the beach.

the flames of the custom made bonfire dance in the night, cackling and laughing when it’s your turn to discard your bra. the chilly air making your nipples stand. your cheeks are burning as you cross your arm over your exposed chest. the hesitant way you look down and bite your lip is enough indication that you’re thinking twice about being the sole winner of tonight’s strip truth or dare. kim taehyung attempts to place his jacket around you but is met by a series of protests.

“if you wanna put on a jacket, you gotta be prepared to admit defeat. that’s the rule.” or so jeon jeongguk announces.

Keep reading

Mister and Mister Kim

Synopsis:

The agreement was meant to be temporary. You and Jimin would would submit yourselves - body and mind under the guardianship of Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook as they explored different fantasies.

And sure, it wasn’t an ideal situation, but if it would keep you two off the streets then it would be worth it. What you didn’t realize however, was that you had just entered a dangerous game full of even darker secrets surrounding the people who called themselves your “Daddies.”

{Next}

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: Smut, Age-Play, Slow-burn Yandere, ???

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jimin x (f) Reader, Taekook, Taekook x Jimin and Reader

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: uhh for right now: Romanticized and unrealistically perfect marriages, (as usual cuz I can and because I’m a sad, lonely, hopeless romantic) Mentions of mature subject matter, Future Consensual Age-Play and smut, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Collaring, References to anxiety,

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 2.7K

I suppose this is just a potential fic for after I finish “Baby” (because this concept is admittedly pretty fun to play around with). But of course, if the content/ warnings make you uncomfortable please do avoid reading.

Because the following is a work of fiction - ALL ships and its contents are made purely for entertainment purposes. Therefore, it should not be taken seriously.

Keep reading

Skirts and Strap Ons

Synopsis ✦ You hated wannabe punk Park Jimin. You hated being in heat. You hated being an omega. What happens when these three elements combine and you finally snap? And what happens when that breaking point involves Mr. Unbearable Alpha Park Jimin himself?

Genre ✦ Smut, ABO, enemies to lovers, PWP

Pairings ✦ Alpha!Jimin x Omega!Reader, Sub!Jimin x FemDom!Reader

Word Count ✦ 3.4K

Warnings ✦ ABO (scents, knots, presenting, heat, omegas and alphas), Sub!Jimin (yes an alpha and a sub ik right), pegging, degradation, swearing, toys (strap on, butt plugs), ass play, Jimin in a skirt, slapping, Ma’am kink, what can be considered verbal/sexual harassment mentioned

ATTN ✦ hey its ya girl back from the dead with a ABO oneshot. This was triggered by the butter concept photos, my hatred for red hair and conflicted feelings over the skirt lol. I am 100% aboard the dom jimin train and I refuse to believe this man is an omega but like sometimes I do just wanna peg a pretty boy yk. Anyway, this isn’t proof read or anything so have fun lol

You snapped the drawer to the register closed having just emptied it for the night. You hated your part time job and you hated working nights. Closing itself wasn’t that bad, it was the jackasses rushing in last minute and pretending like they didn’t hear you when you informed them the register was closed and continued browsing that pissed you off the most. Normally, you would be jumping at the chance to close and go home. Home was the best part of the day. But you couldn’t even enjoy that tonight.

He was loitering around somewhere.

Park Jimin. That fucking asshole.

You can’t remember exactly how you ran into him for the first time. He had just jaunted into the shitty convenience store one day and he had practically stalked you since. He always seemed to know the exact shift you were working, and he always made it a point to taunt and flirt and make disgusting comments about your heat cycle. And to make matters worse, he always poked around the most when you were in heat.

Heat. The thought of the unavoidable thing made you sick, but everyone was envious of you. Your heats were never so intense that you couldn’t function, couldn’t smother out the smell with suppressants, or couldn’t leave the house. Nope, you were pretty well off. You could concentrate, function, act like a decent human being. You were horny and you did dwell on that thought often, but it was easy for you to swallow. You were rather grateful you weren’t some sopping wet, wailing bitch in heat. Especially since you hated being an omega. You had fooled around with a fair share of alphas in your time. None of them were remotely satisfying. Your friends always ranted and raved about the feeling of being knotted but if you were honest, it really wasn’t all that great. You would much rather be on the other side of things.

You shut the lights to the store off, realizing that if you stalled any longer your manager would probably ask you about it later and you really did not want to explain that you were trying to avoid this alpha dickwad Park Jimin. He would probably say what everyone else said. You should be excited an alpha is so interested in you!

You sighed, pulling your coat closer to you before you stepped out into the cold night and locked the door.

There he was. The shit.

Keep reading

Inner Needs

Description: You and your friend Jimin are the best of friends, brought together by similar circumstances and shared hobbies. When Jimin complains about being too stressed from work, you offer your services. 

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: Dom/sub, switching, submissive!Jimin, dominant!reader, drinking, explicit language, edgeplay, breathplay, leashes, collars, sensory deprivation, blindfolds, light bondage, light sadism, orgasm delay/denial, dry orgasms, oral sex, face-sitting, face slapping, unsafe safe, whipping, reference to underage consensual sex. 

Genre: Smut (18+)

Word count: 16.8k

A/N: Pay close attention to all those tags y’all. After several years of imagining it, I finally wrote my first domme fic. :) My switch-self is pleased. Extremely so. This is dedicated to all my other dommes and switch dommes. For those who aren’t dominant-leaning, I hope you still enjoy! Also, major respect and press f in the chat for @jeolla-jagi​ who suffered through the editing of this. A born submissive with not an inkling to be a domme, she powered through this. Seriously, the girl is a certified brat and she thrives on it.

Happy, happy birthday to Jimin!!

Keep reading

firelight

🔸 synopsis: there’s history between yn and jimin. some good, some (okay, a lot) bad. the only problem is, there should never have been any ‘history’ to begin with. not when they’re supposed to be family.

🔸 genre: fluff, angst, explicit, forbidden love au

🔸 warnings: cursing, cheating, pseudo-incest (they’re step-siblings), you’re meant to hate the main characters fyi

🔸 word count: 4.8k

🔸 author’s note: writing this pushed me out of my comfort zone, but i’m glad i did it. please let me know what you think of this. i’m genuinely losing my desire to share fics on here lol. happy reading~!! :]

Keep reading

fragments | jimin x reader [01]

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | felicitywrites on tumblr (2021) NO reposts, translations, or any type of distribution allowed.

synopsis: your heart sank to your stomach as you stepped out of your room, and right there in your kitchen was the last person you ever wanted to see again. he acted as though he still lived there with you, knew each and every corner like the back of his hand and you blinked harshly trying to convince yourself you were dreaming.

impossible. this is impossible.

what was park jimin doing in your apartment, in your own loose bathrobe, pouring you a cup of coffee as he greeted you with that stupid smile on his face, when three years ago, you were certain he was out of your life forever as he left you here on your own and run into the arms of someone else?

this should be a dream, you repeated.

until you figured out it actually wasn't -- because this was that day, the one before you confronted him about his affair.

unfortunately, you were about to relive the same day over and over again, and you had absolutely no idea as to why.

pairing: professor!jimin x author!reader

genre: 70% angst, 20% smut, 10% fluff

warnings: an emotional rollercoaster, INFIDELITY, betrayal, stress, heavy alcohol consumption, anxiety, sleep deprivation, toxic relationships between reader and her family, reader and jimin obviously, jimin is a lying, manipulative, two-faced asshole, self-blaming, gaslighting, angry sex, a very sad and heartbreaking sex.

i think that's it??? let me know if i forgot anything x

status: ONGOING

word count: 5.9k

song recs: milk & honey - billie marten (alt version) | the butterfly effect - before you exit | who - lauv ft. bts

[TEASER] [01] [02] [03] +++

"Honey, you alright?"

Oh damn, you muttered under your breath as you straightened your back. You're never the kind of person to talk to strangers, let alone those who stand by you at the bus stop at such a time.

Deciding to trace the uneven lines on the tiles below your feet, you took in a sharp breath and hoped whoever asked you would simply let it go.

But they didn't. And your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when the said stranger inched closer to you and handed you something.

"Take this, and you're sweating. How about we find you a bottle of water or anything to drink? Hm?"

It was a woman, seemingly in her mid-forties and she was clad in the same generic office uniform as you were, but less elegant, due to the lack of accessories or jewelries attached other than a ring on her finger.

Must be married, you thought, and you watched as she smiled in your way and for a moment, you felt as though the warmth spreading on your face was because her presence reminded you of someone.

She didn't take your silence as anything but a yes to her suggestion, so you found yourself behind her while she dragged you out of the crowded bus stop and towards the nearest convenience store she could see.

By the time you arrived there, the woman guided you to a table outside before she scurried inside to buy some drinks for you, and also for her.

She returned still with the smile she'd been wearing since you first caught a glance of her face and as she sat down across from you, she was already finishing the bottle.

"Monday sucks, yeah? Must be hard even for youngsters like you.."

Taking your time to pop open the bottle, you couldn't help but notice the way the woman was staring you up and down, and you began to feel a bit queasy.

Yet you chose to leave it, and instead focus on the water that flowed right through your throat and the coolness of it made you relax.

She was right, the wicked Mondays sucked, and it had been that way for a while now. Though you should be used to it by now, there were just times when for unexplainable reasons, you couldn't.

“Isn’t it like it for everybody, regardless of age?” you asked her, because you knew that you were never alone to hate on Mondays.

And she paused, shoving the now empty bottle into her bag and sank in her seat, cross-legged. You could tell she was trying to read your mind.

She grinned, meeting your rather flustered face for the lack of willingness to hide the hidden meaning behind your words.

You sat upright, almost ready to defend yourself before running away but the woman nodded, figuring you out and you were stunned as the response fell from her lips.

“A terrible thing happened on a Monday, perhaps, it had something to do with that ring finger of yours? Apologies for being nosy but it’s not every day I get to the bus stop and see someone nearly fainting like you did. And I have a daughter of my own.”

You hated being questioned on the little habits and quirks you had, especially when strangers pointed it out to you as if they knew you personally.

Again, the woman was right -- and you nibbled at your bottom lip, unable to form any reply anymore as you stared blankly ahead.

There was an annoying, ugly permanent mark on your finger, a proof that you were once sentimental to things you were given, or at least to things you knew were yours.

It’s funny how in three years of hiding away that immeasurable pain of a past you had, that woman right there flipped you open and was able to bring it out for the world to see.

And when your vision started to blurry at the tears pooling around your eyes, the woman’s hand rubbed the rough skin atop your own, before she let out a heavy sigh and a remark that you were sure would keep you up at night after work.

“The first step to transform your Mondays is to just practice a new routine as soon as you start your day... Like, instead of running to the bus stop, why not take the train? And make sure you’ve had breakfast before you leave the house, or grab one along the way and spare yourself ten minutes to finish it at work? Anything, really.”

You swallowed, looking down at your hand disappearing from her own large ones.

“My daughter took two years to get over it and when she finally did, she replaced that ring into something she herself picked and then things just shifted. I’m pretty sure you can do it, sweetie. It’s never too late.”

Did she think I was married? I wonder.

“I wasn’t - it’s not because I was married. Actually it’s….” she cut you short and shrugged her shoulders. “Married or not, it still hurts the same, yeah? It doesn’t matter which is the truth because it’s not about the situation but more of the person involved with you.”

“Well,” you bit your inner cheek and pulled back, clenching your fist so as to let her touch linger. You haven’t had any physical contact with anyone for three years.

Three goddamn years and you were nothing but a lonely vessel walking around, just trying to live.

That’s it, a face flashed when the woman smiled again, and you cursed mentally for ever confirming it. It was your mother.

She reminded you of your own mother, whom you hadn’t been in contact with for three years, along with your father and both of their new families.

God, it took this long for you to realize how pathetic you have been.

Gladly, you thanked the woman for the insight, though uninvited - still, it helped you work out your thoughts and somehow, it eased your early Monday morning mood swing.

You parted ways a couple minutes later, telling her you had an urgent meeting in less than an hour which was a lie, and she slipped her business card in your bag when you gave her a hug, which you fished out and kept in your wallet in case you would need it someday.

The office lobby as per usual was swarming with people, employees and guests in three different companies located in several floors in the rest of the tall skyscraper right in the heart of the city.

And you remembered feeling sick and suffocated in the first five minutes you stood waiting for the elevator. Now, you were immune to the overlapping voices and the clamoring ringing over your head.

Tapping your heels on the marbled floor, a deep, husky voice startled you and you whirled around quickly, and you winced as laughter welcomed you.

“Oh please, it’s just me. Good morning, princess.”

“Namjoon, ugh stop calling me that.”

“Oops, sorry but it’s Mr. Kim now that we’re here as professionals…”

You scoffed and Namjoon rolled his eyes, moving closer to your side as he held on to his briefcase. The atmosphere changed a bit once you saw him, a familiar face enough to make you comfortable.

The elevator door dinged and it opened, then the two of you entered in no time as the line behind you went forward.

A momentary silence filled in the small but cramped space and if not for Namjoon’s subtle touch on your skin with his fingers, you could have choked for air.

Smiling more to yourself than to him, you waited until you reached your floor and you walked out fast, turning around to nod at him as his office is another floor away from yours.

You hurried to your desk and the first thing you saw was a basket of pink rose petals and the teasing grin from your coworker.

You honestly didn’t mind that despite your position in the publishing company having a perk to choose a huge personal office on the higher floor, you hated being anywhere near Namjoon at all times so you reckoned it was better to stay within the proximity of your close work peers like Sooyoung.

“He just never gives up, it’s insane,” she shook her head, swiveling in her chair to face you as you sat on your own and inspected yet another gift from a certain someone.

You sighed, bringing the basket to your chest and rested your back against the chair.

“I think I’m starting to like it, though. Baskets of rose petals every Monday from the same person, for three years… Think I might decide to marry him one of these days.”

Your words stung, of course. You felt it even before it came out and Sooyoung gave you a disbelieving look, as though you were foolish to say it.

“Jeez, Y/N, come on. We all know the guy isn’t your type. And three years is a long time to pursue someone like you.”

You frowned, offended at the tone of her voice and at the implication of her words but you just laughed it off, thinking no one would ever understand you other than yourself.

“You’re absolutely right. Anyways, about the survey, who’s doing it?” you switched subjects, and Sooyoung caught on it fast as her face lightened up.

“Hm, Mrs. Choi wanted you to do it but I think Mr. Kim proposed it’s someone else instead? Why do you ask?”

You placed the basket back on the side of your desk before you pressed on your work schedule in your computer, clicking on the week that’s coming.

“I’ll do it, could you email Mr. Kim about it? Tell him I’m volunteering, no need to ask someone. Besides, I know people from that university who can help.”

Sooyoung blinked in confusion, wondering how the hell did you suddenly agree on the survey when it’s not even in your description anymore.

You were supposed to be writing again, and it’s been six months since your last release, though it was a bestselling hit, you were aware of the clause in your informal contract with Namjoon about publishing another book before the attention from your first dies down.

You had to comply with the end of the bargain however, the survey intrigued you more.

No. Honestly, the survey was just an excuse. You wanted to go there, where the survey should be executed at.

Jung University - where someone you very well know worked at.

Someone you haven’t seen in three years, and you had sworn you’d never call again but here you were, ticking the box in your schedule that read as the survey date before Sooyoung could even send that email to your editor, Namjoon.

“Are you kidding me? No, Y/N, you’re not doing the survey..”

Namjoon was frantically skipping over to you as you stomped off to the entrance. You were smirking in victory at ruining his mood and his voice echoed around the empty lobby.

You stopped at the doors, peered over to witness the scowl on his face and you chuckled at how his work facade had long diminished.

“Did Sooyoung even send you an email? I bet she didn’t.”

He groaned, hand pulling at your wrist to completely stop you from leaving.

“No, but she called for christ’s sake. Really, Y/N? You wanted to do it? Or do you just want to get there and see him? Because if it is, then it’s not like you.”

“Wait, what? What isn't like me? To make amends with someone from the past and maybe then I could start moving forward?”

It didn’t make sense. You knew it. You fumbled with your words and thoughts and Namjoon could tell you were making excuses.

Making amends wasn’t you. You hated confrontations, hated facing the truth with your head held up high because what you always were was a coward.

Namjoon knew you like that. He was there to see you crumble when you had to explain a mistake over something at work when you were still a copywriter.

He was there when you avoided talking to higher ups at company dinners and ultimately refusing to befriend coworkers.

Sooyoung and him were the only ones you allowed in your personal life.

Three years ago, your life was everything but who you are now.

You were different in many ways unimaginable. You were strong, head fucking strong to scream at the world, yell out your frustrations and your fears.

You were open to sharing what made you uneasy and distant, what you thought was wrong about anything and you were living a life without a script to memorize or a routine to follow.

You were spontaneous, at least that was what he used to call you when people asked him about you.

But was that really who you were?

Because after that you found yourself back to how you were prior to meeting him. When you were a lifeless little girl with parents who hated each other to death and a house without knives or scissors or anything sharp as your grandfather thought better.

Three years after Park Jimin was out of your life, you were returning to your old self, that spiteful, young menace who wanted nothing out of her own bubble.

The one you hated the most next to your parents and their marriage that broke you apart.

And meeting that old woman that morning woke you into a reality where you could no longer hold everything in. You had to let it spill and fall through the cracks of your being.

You wanted to spring free from your dull, clouded mind with regrets and what-ifs because it wasn’t just Mondays that sucked for you.

Everything fucking sucked and you desperately wished one thing wouldn’t feel as such.

If seeing him again means you will find the right track you lost then, and maybe that’s better than living a life like that unfinished manuscript of yours months before you met him.

“You don’t need that, listen - Jimin is far beyond what you can reach now. He’s not even my friend anymore, but you are, Y/N. And I want you to get over that prick and I’ve been saying this for three years, goddamn it. I told you to move out of that apartment and help me find you someplace else, and Sooyoung clearly said you can come to her too. Doing the survey wouldn’t give you what you want. It isn’t the way…”

You pursed your lips, eyes darting from one to another and you felt dizzy as your chest tightened. It’s like you couldn’t breathe.

The tears that were left that morning made its way back around and Namjoon heaved, pulling you in for an embrace as he couldn’t see you wither away again.

You stayed like that for God knew how long until the lights from the lobby turned off, and you were met with darkness. Namjoon rubbed your back as your silent sobs vibrated against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say at that point. And you meant it well. The last thing you ever wanted was to keep worrying him after everything you put him through.

He nodded and smiled though you couldn’t see it, watching his own reflection from the glass doors waiting for you to walk in and out of the office.

Namjoon regretfully recounted the day you called him to meet so you could tell him about what happened. After all, Jimin was his friend before he was yours.

They stood for years, tracing back in college where they shared rooms until they graduated and though they took different career paths, they remained friends, and even more so when Namjoon let him meet his junior trainee and his so-called secretary back then, you.

He was the reason you knew Jimin. Through him, you met the man whom you spent the best days of your life with, the most beautiful years you’ve ever lived.

You were grateful for Kim Namjoon, though you felt it was you who was indebted and not him because he lost his good friend too.

And you blame yourself for that.

And for your own connection with Park Jimin that dwindled along with the time you were supposed to live in without the memories of your scarred and strained relationship with your family which you ran away from.

“Come on, let me drive you home. Think about the survey tomorrow, okay? If you want to, I can be your company. I just don’t want to send you on your own.”

You sniffled, stepping back to look at him dead serious in the eyes and it turned into crescents as he smiled softly down at you, arms still wrapped around your own.

“Oh, okay. Thank you, Namjoon, I really mean it.”

He nodded, hand lifting up to ruffle your hair, “I know, I know…”

You tossed and turned in bed, the yellow lighting in your room didn’t change the heaviness you continued to feel as soon as Namjoon dropped you off your apartment.

You told him not to worry, faked a perfect smile to lessen his stress over you and when you were sure it worked, you waved him goodbye and let yourself succumb into your own again, as always.

Your apartment had stopped feeling like home three years ago, though it’s fairly clean as all you did on weekends was either clean or watch movies all day long in your room.

Nothing was left from the person who lived there other than the sound of his voice and his scent that seemed to have stayed with you, and you tend to force yourself to listen to music with your earpods to keep it out and spray on different brands across the house to cover the scent itself.

It’s stupid to think something like that could stay for three years but hell, they did. And you wanted to cry each time you encountered them.

The bed you once shared was the one thing that’s changed because there came a time when you thought to get rid of it so you won’t remember the nights you were tangled up in sheets with him.

Those nights that lasted quite like a lifetime, as if they were endless, and in the next morning you were sure to wake up still in his loving arms.

You didn’t take pleasure remembering happy memories with him, as it only brought tears just as much as it did when you tried recalling the sad ones.

So, you got up and switched on the lights fully, ridding yourself of the covers and walked out to grab a can of beer from your fridge.

Your phone dinged on the counter as you downed the drink straight, and you peeked at it before shoving the beer into the trash can.

[Sooyoung]: namjoon asked me to check on you

[Sooyoung]: still up?

[Sooyoung]: btw, the university replied back, saying they’re looking forward to meeting you, that is if you still would like to push through with the survey task

[Sooyoung]: i think you should, Y/N - park wouldn’t even be there that week anyway.

[You]: Why not?

[Sooyoung]: wow is that a least bit of your concern right now? well, he’s got an urgent business to do, whatever that is..

You sighed, disappointed in your features as you laid your back against the counter. Oh God, you really wanted to see him.

Shaking your head abruptly, you stood straight and inhaled a breath, holding it for a second and exhaled then clutched your chest for good measure.

You can’t be thinking about him right now when you’ve just burdened Namjoon yet again that night. You had to get your shit together.

If he’s not there it should be fine, right? That’s not going to help you anyway if you were to see him while you had work to finish.

Walking back to your room and to bed, you had one goal in mind, thanks to that beer you could think better than you did the rest of the day.

I gotta take the fucking train tomorrow and buy myself something to rid this mark on my finger, you mumbled to yourself as you crawled underneath the sheets.

And you’ve felt a little light-headed, slowly clearing off of whatever filled your mind.

You woke up slightly disheveled yet calm, no, you felt so much better than yesterday. Seven hours of sleep was foreign to you and you giggled to yourself as you basked in the sunlight through the blinds of your window.

There was warmth and coziness in that particular morning, and your immediate thought was to brew yourself a cup of coffee which you hadn’t done in a while.

Tuesdays used to feel crazy good, when Jimin was around. It was the day when he’s not in classrooms scooped up with students.

Either he’s at the house in his office which was now the empty, cold, dusty spare room you dared not to go in for fear of ghosts, whoever they might be, or at a random coffee shop nearby grading papers or writing lessons as he waited for you to get off work and he’d pick you up.

After that, you’d have dinner outside at some restaurant and talk about work and weather, laugh at the misfortunes of other people, whom you now know to be your own self.

Your misfortunes were the ones you and Jimin used to make fun of and you wanted to throw up in your bathroom as you got ready for the day.

How ironic.

Nevertheless, Tuesdays could also be good for you, you know it is good now that your phone kept buzzing from your nightstand and you knew it was Namjoon just flooding you with nonsense.

Or Sooyoung and her recent work gossip.

You sighed in relief, heart fluttering as the water trickled down your skin in the shower, causing you to shut your eyes in the feeling.

Once finished, you put on another basic work uniform and you failed to notice another pair next to it on the ottoman, spreaded out and ironed nicely.

You also failed to notice all the other stuff placed around the room as you made your way out to make yourself coffee.

You were like floating when you strode into the hallway leading to the kitchen, but the sound of your coffee machine whirring caught your undivided attention.

Stopping on your tracks, your eyebrows furrowed, and you couldn’t make out the faint, muffled humming of someone not too far from you.

Someone’s here? You wondered, but you remembered you changed the locks and only one person had access to the pin code, Namjoon.

Should it be him?

You scratched the back of your neck as you hesitated to check if it was him. An intruder or a stalker wasn’t anywhere near your conscious mind as of that moment, so you decided to make a run back to your room to instead check your phone.

As soon as you leaned over to pick it, your foot hit something next to the bed, and your eyes gawked at a left Chelsea boot lying on the carpet.

What? You only wore boots when it’s the fall or winter, and leather? You weren’t a fan of it much either. Your head spun at your name being called outside to the voice you easily can recognize anywhere you go.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you gripped on your phone, refusing to turn around to the door slightly opened.

You thought it was a dream, one of those haunting dreams you very so often encountered when you tried to sleep for more than five hours, or when your body cooperated with you and let you doze off for longer than usual.

But your phone dinged again, and you looked at it with trembling hands, your knees buckling and your head feeling like a ton of bricks were being stacked upon it.

[Namjoon]: Y/N, tell Jimin to forget about date night just for today. I have to borrow you for my mock presentation at six. Sorry for the late notice.

[Namjoon]: also could you please ask him NICELY to respond when i text him? Remind him we made a pact not to fall in love with the same person so there’s no way i’ll steal you away from him when i ask his permission to let you help me with work BECAUSE YOU’RE MY SECRETARY AND MY FRIEND AS WELL.

Fuck. What the actual fuck. You were certain this must be another dream, now you’re not sure because your body reacted faster than your brain did and you found yourself running out towards the kitchen.

The coffee machine had stopped whirring, and the sound you heard was more than enough to make you stop dead in your tracks but with your heart constricting in your chest.

You swallowed a lump rising from your throat as your stomach twisted, causing you to clutch on it as if shielding yourself for another attack, that is, if there’s actually something punching you in the gut.

“What is going on,” was all you could mutter, staring at the person you thought you wanted to see again, but his presence less than a feet away made you want to shrink.

Park Jimin - in his glory, working his way around the kitchen you owned, the place you found yourself in whenever the horrors of the apartment came creeping in.

He was humming to a song unfamiliar to you, dancing and swaying as he prepared breakfast not just for him as he often did but for you as well.

You knew it because he was taking your mug from the cupboard, turning to you to grin and his eyes lit up meeting your quivering ones.

You didn’t stop the tears willing its way back to your eyes and down your cheeks as it began to dawn on you that he was there.

It was him and not some fragment of your memory you longed to forget.

Not a figment of your imagination but his actual self pouring you your morning coffee with a permanent grin on his glorious face.

He was shining - glowing like an angel paying you a visit, the one your mother would call your guardian angel keeping you safe.

It’s outright ridiculous how the night before, you swore you didn’t need to see him again and right then and there you were yearning to touch him.

And the fact that he was wearing your favorite grey bathrobe, loose and worn out which you had kept hidden away in the deepest of your wardrobe as it smelled like him;

It awakened and stirred something inside of you that you definitely locked within.

He placed the mug on the table, on the coaster as you saw the plates on top of the other coasters which you used to scold him about.

Jimin was a different man at home. On the surface, he was calculative, reserved and a bit cold but when he’s with you, he’s messy and all over the place.

The little things like using coasters and the actual teaspoons for coffee, or cleaning up the counter before he started arranging the utensils and plates for the meal;

He was not the best person to trust with it.

Yet the way he was gazing up at you to hear a praise, a compliment from you over his hard work interrupted your raging thoughts.

“Hey, love. Good morning!”

Shit shit shit. You panicked on the inside, hearing his voice laced with sweetness like honey and a hint of sultriness in it was the last straw.

You were about to lose your mind and it hasn’t even been ten minutes of seeing him.

“Oh, are you okay? Don’t like pancakes? I thought we agreed--”

You cut him, “That Tuesdays are for blueberry pancakes and two shots of espresso..” and his lips curved up in a smile you considered way prettier than his usual grin.

It was the smile he gave you on the first night you met, and you have had it imprinted in your mind since. You loved it so much.

“Yes, but if you don’t feel like eating them today I can just wrap them up, Mr. Ahn likes it. I think we could give them to him instead.”

Mr. Ahn, your lovely neighbor who used to spend his mornings walking up and down the fire exit stairs as his daily exercise. Jimin was fond of the old man, a widower without any children and had been living out of his wife’s will who was an accountant for many years.

He had cats and Jimin loved playing with them every morning after his jog, and whenever he came home he’d bring them treats.

You remembered when you told him to adopt a cat despite your allergy but then he confessed he himself had an allergy too.

It was then you realized there were still a lot of things about Jimin which he never told you about - at least not yet, but then he was already gone before you could even ask him more of those.

That’s it. He’s gone. He’s not in your life anymore.

You froze, your own words pulling you back from your reverie. Jimin wasn’t yours anymore.

But why was he there?

What was he doing there as though he never even left?

“What are you doing here?” you’ve had enough of this. Sure, it was one hell of a dream, but you had nothing to do, you had to wake up soon.

“Love,” he whispered, and your blood began to boil at the term he used. Love? This asshole--

“Stop,” you said, walking over to him to steal the spatula from his hand. “You can’t be here.. Just - go, please.”

“Excuse me?” brow raised, he stiffened at the tone of your voice and the feeling when your skin met his. It was cold.

When you took a careful step backwards, he frowned, narrowing his eyes and shooting daggers into your soul and it was that moment when you were sure it was the Jimin you had last known.

Cold, so cold, unnerving, harsh, strict - not the sweet, romantic guy you spent the last two years with before everything crumbled.

That Jimin was someone who resembled your father - the same man you despised more than you did with your mother.

His next words didn’t come as a surprise to you though, leaning forward on the counter to tilt his head as if mocking you.

Licking his lips, Jimin scoffed, eating you out with his changing demeanor as he composed himself to appear unfazed by your rejection.

“You want me to leave? Really, Y/N? Don’t tell me you’re being like this because of the fucking pancakes. Are you? I am trying to make it work.. As I’m sure as hell you are not interested in doing it anyway.”

“Whoa, wait. What? You’re trying to do what? Make it work? Make what work? What do we even have that needs some fixing? Clearly, I have nothing to think of because it’s you who’s fooling around to need it.”

Your entire body’s shivering at your own retort, eyes hooded in fury as Jimin remained still, unaffected by you or the fact that he’s facing the person he ever so willingly left to rot in her own misery three years ago.

However, his action spoke louder than words could ever be, and it was the sign you needed to figure out what was happening and why the hell was he there.

Running a hand through his hair, he paced around the kitchen, fists clenched and you were beginning to find the whole thing oddly familiar.

It was as if the situation had happened before, like a deja vu. You blinked over and over watching him move as he sunk within himself.

And then there’s his phone blaring in the deafening silence, making your heart jump.

He stopped, head lifting to glance at the device sitting on the fruit bowl with nothing but apples that he loved, before he turned to you.

You didn’t know why, but his face that was void of any warmth and familiarity to you suddenly felt terrifying.

It seemed like he was more of a stranger than someone once dear to your heart.

And the faster he rushed to pick up his phone, the quicker you almost fell to your knees when you finally recognized what was unfolding before your eyes.

Holding onto the table behind you for support, you heard the voice from the call in his phone. The same voice that rang in your ear for months since you first heard it.

“Min Yoojin,” you said in barely above a whisper as you stumbled back, gasping for air as you choked out the tears bubbling in the pit of your throat.

Jimin had the phone in his ear, and his body spun to face you, the expression which was rough on him softening at the sight of you on the brink of falling apart.

It was that day, you said wholeheartedly. That day when you were about to tell him you knew everything between him and Yoojin.

His first love, who reappeared in his life, in your lives when she started working at the university as Jimin, who’s been a professor there even before you two met.

Namjoon used to tell you that back in their college years, Jimin was everything to Yoojin, and so she was.

Their relationship was one would call a fairytale romance, as Yoojin came from a family of businessmen and academicians, professors, educators who had been around for decades, eventually building schools and colleges and succeeding.

The influence they had in the industry was known and thanked for by the government, as they helped strengthen the education sector in the rest of the country.

And as for Jimin, he was from a rather humble family of the same profession who looked up to the Mins a lot as his parents’ inspiration.

He was bound to be with her, having met her in one of his classes, Jimin knew Yoojin will always be a part of him. They were meant for greater heights.

And you? Where were you when they found the chance to rekindle the flame, the connection that was long buried when Jimin made you a promise he would stay with you no matter what it takes.

He always said you were the smartest woman he’d ever met, the brightest, and your words captured his heart as soon as you let him skim into your manuscript when you met.

But you didn’t realize that the word smart differed from intelligent, because Namjoon then told you Jimin fell in love with her because she was intelligent.

Despite them being synonymous to each other, you knew the meaning was different for Jimin. You were smart, but you can never be as intelligent as Yoojin.

And that tripled the pain when you saw tears in his eyes as he looked at you, almost apologetic though it was clear he didn’t regret doing it.

After all, she’s all he ever wanted. Even though she left him broken in fragments and you came to put the pieces together years later.

You knew then that it was that day you were about to confront him, to hear his explanation if there’s any.

And much to your dismay, it wasn’t a dream - it was a reality you’re yet to relive for how many times your fate would want you to.

You were about to witness your own self, three years ago - and you were there to lose him all over again.

Masterlist

The ties that bind us still.

© pjmaparty. All rights reserved.

All posted works are mine, please do not repost, copy or translate without explicit permission. (I do not own the pictures used in the moodboard.)

- Teaser

- Part I

- Part II

- Part III

- a lovely banner that stole my heart

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