Incubus!jimin - Tumblr Posts

Gingerbread House

; Jimin x Reader x Jungkook

; Candy Shop;AU

; Genre: Smut

; Word Count: 12.4k

; Warnings: Slight food play, dom!Jungkook, sub!Jimin, unprotected sex

; Synopsis: Do you have a sweet tooth? Or do you prefer a bit of spice in your treats? Gingerbread House has all your needs met with our large range of confectionery that’s sure to meet everyone’s tastes. For those looking for something a little more personalised, we’re always willing to create bespoke confectionery to suit you. Give us a call or visit our store, you’re sure to find plenty to sink your teeth into!

; A/N: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY @yminie!!! I’m sorry it’s late ;-; I hope you enjoy <333333

-

“Guess what!” Chaeyoung grins broadly, hands holding each other tightly on the table in front of you. Looking up with an eyebrow raised, you make an imploring look with your face while licking your spoon clean of ice cream.

“I got your birthday present, and you’re going to love it.” She squeals with excitement, clapping lightly and practically vibrating with happiness and anticipation at your reaction. You swallow the ice cream before putting the spoon down, the sundae in front of you now empty.

“Oh? Do I have to wait?” You ask with a smile, leaning forward as a twinkle lights up her eyes with excitement. Biting her lip, she leans forward too before shaking her head.

“No, actually I’m going to take you after we’re done here. You have no idea how hard it was to get this for you, I swear I kept asking about an opening for weeks!” She waves for the waitress and you watch as she brings over the bill for you to pay. Splitting it between the two of you, you’re soon grabbing your bag and coat and leaving the restaurant you’d both come to.

Today was your day to catch up with your best friend as you hadn’t seen Chaeyoung in two weeks, meaning it was definitely time for you both to spend some valuable hours with each other. She’d desperately wanted to try the new Greek restaurant that had opened in the city and so you’d agreed, enjoying pork souvlaki for you and a moussaka for Chaeyoung.

The food had been delicious and immediately taken you both back to your holiday to Crete and the hot sun that shimmered on the waves of the calm Aegean sea. It had been far too long since you’d had a vacation and you suddenly craved it once more, resenting the fact that you hadn’t taken advantage of your birthday to go seek some sun somewhere.

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under the spell of a demon’s touch (m)

▽ Pairing: Jimin x Reader

▽ Genre: incubus!AU, angst, smut, fluff the holy trio

▽ Summary: You had believed, for your entire life, that creatures of the underworld were only a myth but you were proven wrong by the existence of Jimin. He is, according to his definition, a smaller type of Fae called Incubus. A creature of sex. Someone that can only live and strive as long as his sexual appetite is satiated every day. And Incubi are known in all of their myths to be insatiable and ravenous creatures. ↳ alternatively: sending all our souls to rot in hell.

▽ Word Count: 14.872 words

▽ WARNINGS: graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, cheating, cuss words, dirty talk, blindfolds, handcuffs, oral sex, name calling, choking, hair pulling, butt plugs, spanking, rough sex, window sex, squirting, anal, vibrators.

The building stands tall in front of your eyes, rows upon rows of seemingly endless windows all uniform in their anonymous simplicity.

Your heels tap on the white linoleum floor of the hall full of people walking haphazardly to finish the assignments of the morning before their lunch break starts.

You walk through them with calmness in your steps, chin held up high as you reach the elevator, a bag full of food in your free hand.

There is a smile stretched on your lips and it is due to the thought of the pleasant lunch you are about to have with your lover — a surprise you are quite sure he is going to appreciate.

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esse tuus | pjm

esse tuus (latin) ↳ translation: to be yours

synopsis: You’ve been plagued by dreams of your boss ever since you started working for him to the point where you’re unable to “play” with anybody else. Frustration and possible lack of sleep has you feeling lethargic, to a point where you find yourself falling asleep at work, but little do you know that someone is behind it all.

part of the dulce somnii universe.

pairing: jimin x reader

wc: 9.8k

genre/au/rating: 18+ | incubus, office au, f2l | S, F

warnings: minor descriptions of injury, oral (f. receiving), fingering, heaps of feelings, orgasm denial/delay, sex dreams? name-calling, degradation, praise kink

lil note: happy birthday jimin <3 and happy halloween!

listening to: serendipity

m.list | ao3

The night sky only darkens with the evidence of rain. With most of its denizens asleep, the city winds down quietly while it waits for the storm to pass. Two men stand in the middle of the downpour, two sets of eyes staring at the same window – the third-floor apartment belonging to a woman, the only one awake in the otherwise quiet night. They’re silent, waiting with bated breath for the lights to turn off, so that no one could listen into their conversation, despite them surrounded by a powerful aura that shrouds their identities while wicking away the rain to keep their coats dry. As they say, you can’t be too careful when the walls have ears.

When the final inhabitant of the city surrenders to the call of sleep, their conversation begins.

“That’s her.” It isn’t a question, but Jimin nods in confirmation. “How long?” his companion asks, his deep voice clear despite the thundering stampede of rain colliding with the asphalt around them.

“Ever since I’ve known her,” Jimin replies wistfully. “Five years now.”

“I mean, aren’t you the same way? Isn’t that why you haven’t changed your form in nearly two years now?” he questions his tall companion curiously. “Surely that girl you were toying with is under your control by now, right? Why not move on to a different target, Tae?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer him immediately, the glare he throws at Jimin a sufficient reply. “It’s different,” he sighs after a heartbeat. “I don’t love her; I just need her to feed – to survive.”

“Bullshit,” Jimin counters with a roll of his eyes. “Pretend all you want, but you can’t fool me. I know the way you talk about her when you’re drunk.”

“It’s different,” Taehyung insists with a growl. Seizing Jimin’s shoulders, Taehyung’s golden eyes glint with irritation under the dim streetlight. “Because I’m not willing to give up my life for her… Unlike you,” he spits as he shakes his head. “I want you to think carefully about this. Are you sure you’re willing to give up your immortality, and eventually your powers, for a mere mortal?”

Jimin laughs, loud enough that it would normally wake everyone in the neighbourhood, but his powers have given him a gift of anonymity, so the sound is merely carried away by the wind. Instead of staring into the gilded eyes of his friend that mirrors the storm around them, he looks up at the darkened room again.

With a graceful smile, he peels Taehyung’s hands away from his shoulders before turning away to leave, away from this dreaded weather. Indifferent about whether Taehyung could hear him, Jimin’s ruby eyes twinkle as he grins, “Oh, I have never been surer.”

---

You’re not sure when the dreams started, but it was shortly after you started working under the new CEO, Park Jimin. They weren’t so frequent before, maybe happening about once or twice every couple of months with you recollecting bits and pieces come morning. Now, not only were the dreams occurring nightly, you’re left with an uncomfortable mess in the morning – made evident by the growing wet puddle soaking your sheets, but also the way you can no longer look at your boss without heat flaming your cheeks.

When you confide your issue with a good friend of yours, she only gave you a weird look, telling you that the dreams were attributed to the fact that: (a) your boss is fine as hell; and (b) the stress that’s been accumulating with the mountain of tasks he’s assigned to you.

“If you want my opinion, I think you just need to get laid,” Jessie scoffs with a roll of her eyes.

Heeding her advice, you donned on your battle armour that consisted of a dark-red dress with a plunging neckline. You’ve been blessed that night with an array of beautiful men who vied for your attention, but even after deciding to go home with the mysterious soft-spoken one whose arm was covered in tattoos, you couldn’t go through with it.

It’s not that he was bad in bed either. The raven-haired boy had kissed you like there was no tomorrow, sending your nerves aflame as you reciprocated his passion. But, as you closed your eyes in pleasure when he laid you down on his bed, his visage was replaced by a certain blonde CEO. And the wonderful night that seemed so promising ended up with you apologizing profusely in embarrassment before speeding away from the mystery man’s apartment at 2am.

Rain has graced the earth more often lately, so by the time you reach your apartment in the outskirts of the city, you’re drenched, adding another tick of irritation to the already shitty night. After you finished towelling your hair dry, you decided that it’s time to sleep, and when you drifted into the abyssal darkness, you hoped that your dreams weren’t plagued by a familiar swoop of blonde hair.

---

The room spins as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. There’s a hand on your shoulder that shakes you gently, but try as you might, the pounding in your head makes it impossible for you to keep your eyes open long enough to distinguish its owner.

“Breathe,” says a familiar voice. “It’ll go away if you just breathe.”

You do as the voice suggests, inhaling deeply while screwing your eyes shut, in hopes that it will drown out the ringing in your ears. Something soft glides across your eyelids and like magic, silence returns, a trusty companion.

Gingerly, you open an eye before wincing at the harsh fluorescent light. You blink a few times to allow your eyes to adjust to the brightness before finding yourself in the file room of your office, with steel shelves stacked with various kinds of blue binders, each containing reports of the company’s financial burdens and achievements through the years.

And in front of you, tie askew and flushed in the face, is your boss; the one and only Park Jimin.

He has you pressed up against a file cabinet, caging your body between two strong arms, white sleeves rolled to the elbows. You notice the hint of ink on the corner of your eye – a 13 on his wrist. You open your mouth to ask him about its significance, only to close it back up when his face looms closer.

Before your brain has a chance to register what’s happening, Park Jimin kisses you.

He kisses you with urgency, but not with haste – undoing you with every sweep of his plush lips against yours.

Though it takes you a moment, you pull him closer by his tie, earning you the familiar quiet chuckle that speeds your heart rate, and you too, kiss him back with fervour. Even when the inches between your bodies fall to zero, you want him to be closer still. And when he parts, you feel the ache of being torn apart. Your hands fall to his chest, the desire to rip the buttons off his white dress-shirt grows stronger with every second that passes as you study the swell of his lips, wet with saliva, glinting in the light.

“Do it.”

It takes you a second to register his words, but when your brain deciphers his meaning, your hands tighten their grip, wrinkling the white cotton fabric. With a heavy inhale, you yank. The buttons don’t fly off and clatter to the ground like in movies, but your strength did cause a few to strain against their threads. You run your hands down the expanse of Jimin’s chest as he shivers under your touch. You look up to see a marvel stand before you; one where his eyes are closed, and pretty mouth slightly parted to accommodate his staccato breathing.

“Kiss me.” Your words seem to be carried away with the hum of air conditioning, but before you have a chance to repeat yourself, Jimin slams into you, tangling his hand in your hair to tighten the hold he has on your head.

The cabinet clatters as he pairs the kisses with a buck of his hips, dragging his clothed erection up to your core; and you moan, your voice foreign in your own ears. You beg him for more as his nose trails the column of your throat, your own impatient hands fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

“Patience, my dear,” Jimin chides playfully. He puts a stop to your unsuccessful efforts by claiming your hands, kissing the knuckles with a smirk. You’re left stricken when his eyes meet yours, hypnotized by the ruby irises that stare deep into your soul.

“Your eyes… Were they… always that colour?” you mumble with a tongue that weighs like lead, but the fog descends on your mind again, rendering you incapable of speech.

“Ah!” you screech. The sudden high-pitch ring returns to block your senses and you cover your ears tightly to try and shake it off. From the din, you hear Jimin call your name desperately, but the pain is too great, and soon, you’re unable to see as a bright light consumes your vision—

Until you sense the same gentle swipe against your closed lids and the searing pain disappears, as though you imagined it all. When you open your eyes again, Jimin’s frowning. You try to remember the last few moments before the pain, only to draw a blank. Have you done something to upset him?

“Are you okay?” There’s a thin sheen of sweat above his brows and you reach out to wipe it away with your sleeve.

“I am,” he whispers despite the obviously pained smile. “But what were you saying?”

“Hm? I only asked if you were okay, sir,” you say hesitantly. Jimin’s acting strangely, ruby irises scouring your face desperately for an answer, but you’re not sure you know the questions to the test he’s given you.

“You were about to say something about my eyes,” he says slowly, evenly, like he’s explaining something to a child.

Your brows furrow. “I was?”

Jimin nods.

“I… don’t remember,” you admit with a shake of your head. Blinking at him now, you wonder why you would make such a comment – if you did. There isn’t anything wrong with his eyes. They’re the usual ruby red, flashing brightly against the light… right?

Yet, you can’t shed the nagging tug, the insistent voice in your brain that’s telling you that something’s wrong, but just as the low throb begins again, Jimin smiles sweetly, like he always does, and you feel at ease. A gentle brush of his knuckles against your cheek silences the part of your brain that’s trying to rationalize everything.

And when his lips return to glide against yours, you don’t remember what it was you were worried about.

“Oh—” You gasp into the kiss as his hand trails shapes on the skin of your thighs. Jimin takes the opportunity to kiss you deeper, swiping his tongue over your own. While you tangle your fingers in his hair, he hikes up your skirt and cups his hand over your pussy before he grinds your clit with the heel of his palm.

“Jimin—” Your fingers dig into his neck as you roll your hips into his hand. All of it is too little and too much, you’re unravelling too quickly – burning like a comet as you hurtle into his atmosphere.

Yet Jimin doesn’t stop, refuses to comply though you sob for his fingers; his cock; anything – to satiate the unbearable need to be filled. You claw at his arms, unable to fret over the long red lines you draw across the expanse of his skin. And just when you think you can no longer hang on, Jimin stops, a regretful smile on his face.

“What a shame. That’s all the time we have for now.”

---

“Holy shit!”

You’re up immediately, Jimin’s words still ringing in your ear. You swear you could still feel his hot breath against your skin, as though he was here the night before, but the absence of a warm body next to you signifies that last night was all but a dream.

Yet… it was so much more real than the ones prior.

Usually, you’d wake up recalling just the barest of details: Jimin’s lips curling into a smile or the way he’d coo your name as he draws patterns on your skin. But this time… you remembered everything; your mind highlighting every mole on his perfect porcelain face.

You wanted nothing more than to soothe the ache from between your legs but glancing at the wall clock on the opposite end of your bed suggests that you won’t have time to bring out Mr. Rabbit to play, considering that you have about 15 minutes to get ready before you miss the bus. With a regretful sigh, you left the warm comfort of your bed to brave the day.

---

“Good morning!”

Despite the enthusiastic chatter you’re engaging with your co-workers, you feel anything but. You’re still reeling from the dream, unable to stop recalling the way Jimin’s cool fingers brush against your blazing skin. You leave the pantry with a steaming cup of coffee and a heaving sigh before settling down to work.

Your calendar is full of reds and greens, indicating meetings that Jimin must attend and the ones you must attend with him respectively. A secretary to the CEO is a task that would normally require two people, but ever since your partner left, you’ve been left to work the pace of two people. Though Jimin has suggested that you hire a second person, you have refused, claiming that you’re saving the company resources since you’re capable of doing the tasks just fine on your own. Being so close to Jimin fills you with pride, especially knowing how much he relies on you to keep things running smoothly.

Fortunately, it also comes with you receiving a significant raise, much more than what you’d originally entered with. You have no doubt Jimin is to thank for that, having convinced the Chairman in a meeting to renegotiate the contract. Speaking of your boss, the time on the lower right corner of your screen indicates that he’s late – something that has never happened before in your five years of working together.

Just as your thumb hovers over the green call button, Jimin enters with a brilliant smile, greeting everyone and asking about their weekend. You’re almost annoyed at the way he nonchalantly enters through the door, acting like it doesn’t matter that he’s a few minutes late just because he’s the boss, but mostly because it isn’t fair that he’s doing just fine when you’re left stunned in your shoes; the memories of the dream lingering in the forefront of your mind when your gaze drops to his hands.

You snap to attention as he approaches, slipping on a mask of professionalism as you greet him. “Good morning, Mr. Park. You have a nine o’clock this morning and another one at eleven. Should I bring you the coffee now or in a little bit?”

As Jimin enters his office, he gives you a noncommittal hum, so you follow him inside and close the door behind you, sensing that there’s something in his mind.

“That skirt looks good on you,” he praises with a smile before settling in his desk.

You’re left momentarily speechless, surprised at the sudden compliment. You nod your head in thanks, one Jimin returns with another quirk of his lips. As you stand there in silence as he pulls up his laptop, you allow yourself to admire Jimin in the morning light.

You’d be remiss to say that he isn’t handsome. Everyone in the office, including yourself, may have pined for the young CEO’s attention once or twice since his arrival a few years ago, but you don’t delude yourself into thinking that the harmless banter between you was anything more than friendship. However, it’s moments like these, where he’d catch you off guard with his compliments, that has your heart thumping a little bit faster in response to his honeyed words.

He says your name with a chuckle. “Have I lost you already?” he smiles. You clear your throat and shake your head, stumbling out apologies for daydreaming at work, but Jimin only smiles wider, drumming his fingers on the oak table below.

“Please tell me if you’re not feeling well. Don’t make me worry,” he nags lightly.

You force a bright smile to hide your embarrassment. “I’m feeling just fine, Mr. Park. Better than ever,” you reassure him. “Sorry for spacing out, what were you saying?”

You catch the slight frown on his pouty lips and the strange shadow that flickers in his eyes, the obsidian melting into soft earth under the sun—

Wait a minute.

“Were your eyes always brown?” you blurt out, tilting your head to the side.

Jimin blinks in surprise, lips parted as he inhales sharply at your question. “I’m… sorry?” he mutters incredulously.

Silence.

There’s a creeping feeling of déjà vu as you’re unable to tear your eyes away from his. Something is amiss in this image in front of you, but you haven’t figured it out just yet.

Then, a chuckle, though it sounds strained and airy as Jimin breaks through your thoughts. “Of course, my eyes are brown. What other colours could they possibly be?”

An unpleasant fog descends on your mind, and you close your eyes momentarily to see if it’ll go away. When it doesn’t, your heart increases its speed instead, you offer him a pinched smile before turning to leave. You’re more tired than usual it seems, standing is starting to become impossible. You hope that a few hours of sitting at your desk would make you feel better.

“Right. Of course. My apologies, sir. Well, if you’ll excuse me…”

Just as you turn around to grab the handle of the door, your vision turns hazy, the images blurring together like remnants from your dreams. You try to blink through the fog, but the more you attempt to push through, the heavier your lids fall. Whatever Jimin is muttering is muffled in your ears, the language sounding foreign like he’s communicating underwater. When you turn around and see him stand, approaching your helpless swaying figure, he’s nothing more than a dark silhouette.

Before you descend into darkness, you think you saw a pair of ruby eyes and a voice, so full of regret, whispers in your ear.

“Sleep now, you’ll feel better when you wake up. I promise.”

---

When you finally blink awake, there’s a black jacket covering your body. It takes you a few seconds to register that you’re lying on a semi-familiar sectional, and you scramble to stand when you recognize the numerous awards decorating the wall in front of you.

The sun casts hues of oranges and yellow from the large window into Jimin’s office and you watch in horror as the door opens to reveal your boss walking inside with a mug in hand.

“Mr. Park! I…” You don’t have an excuse ready for what happened: how you dozed off on his couch for an entire workday.

Jimin holds up a hand to stop your floundering speech. Instead of fury, worry exists in the lines of his brows as he approaches your seated figure. “You should have told me that you weren’t feeling well,” he murmurs gently as he hands you the mug of steaming hot tea. “I’m sorry. I really should have hired a new partner for you when Soyoung quit.”

“N-No. Not at all. I’m sorry for making you worry.”

To your pleasant surprise, he smiles. “No, please. Don’t apologize. As your manager, I’m taking responsibility for going against the company policy. Your job is meant for two people, and though you’ve done a stellar job so far, this only proves that we need to hire someone else.”

Jimin wouldn’t dig at your work ethic like that, you know it better than anyone that it wasn’t what he meant, but you still feel like you disappointed him. You let your heart sink for a few minutes before picking it back up, a new fire of ambition surging behind your eyes. “Mr. Park, if I may be so bold, today is an anomaly. You’ve said yourself that I’ve done a stellar job, so please…”

“Why are you so intent on doing this by yourself?”

Okay, so maybe the teensy crush you’ve developed for him hasn’t fully gone away. You can’t answer his question without revealing your secret, so you merely repeat ‘Please’ with your head bowed.

Silence stifles the air around you as Jimin thinks. “All right, fine,” he says with a reluctant sigh, though his lips quirk into a smile at your insistence. “But please tell me if you start feeling unwell again. Seriously, it’s better you stay home than coming to work sick.”

“Thank you,” you beam gratefully at him before taking a sip at your tea. It tastes pleasant, despite you not being able to pinpoint the flavour. Chamomile maybe? As you finish the last sip, you stand and make your way outside, intent on staying late to catch up on all the work you’ve missed today.

You relay as much to Jimin, but he stops you as you open the door to his office. “Would you do me a favour and grab these files from the file room?” he asks as he hands you a sticky note filled with corresponding dates and numbers. “Now would be preferable, but I’m not leaving any time soon. Oh, and be careful. I think a few of them are placed on the higher shelves.”

His warning falls on deaf ears as you scrutinize the numbers on the note. Strange. Why was he looking for records all the way back to when the company was founded? Figuring that it isn’t your problem, you promise that you’ll bring him the documents in a bit…

Which turns out to be the biggest promise you regret making thus far.

“Ow…” you whimper.

Your ankle stings where you had landed on it, having failed to grab the last file you need, which just so happens to also be placed at the highest shelf. The step ladder you used to reach it wasn’t tall enough, and despite standing on your tiptoes, your fingers barely graze the bottom of the folder. Your fate was sealed when your distracted brain started thinking about the dream you had the night before.

When you attempt to stand to clean the mess you’ve made, gravity pulls you back down when your injured leg is unable to support your weight. Now, you’re sitting on the ground littered with papers, unable to call anyone for help with the shitty cell service in the file room.

Tears well up in your eyes when you think of your sorry state. Would Jimin fire you for your incompetence? Probably not, but it’s been an embarrassing day so far, especially since you spent most of it dozing off on his office couch that’s usually reserved for his guests. You wonder how he fared with all his meetings that you couldn’t attend with him – what sorts of excuses had he come up with when they asked where you were?

“God, I’m pathetic.”

Just as you’re wallowing in your self-pity, the door to the file room opens and you spy Jimin’s blonde hair between the empty shelves.

“Over here,” you answer pitifully when he calls your name.

You can almost see the comically large, pulsing angry symbol as he frowns at your slumped figure.

“I told you to be careful!” he grumbles as he surveys your foot. You cry out when his fingers graze at the ankle, the tears you’ve been holding onto slipping away down your cheeks. Jimin’s eyes soften at your whimpers, and with a gentleness you didn’t know he possesses at the moment; he wipes away your tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry. It’s not broken,” he whispers reassuringly. “It’s a little swollen, but I promise you’re going to be better in the morning. Can you stand?”

You shake your head, hiccupping a ‘No’.

“Okay, put your arms around my neck. Yep. Just like that. Now, hold on,” he instructs before lifting you up.

“W-Wait,” you protest as he carries you in the direction of his office. “Aren’t I heavy?”

You could feel the rumbling of his laughter with your cheek pressed against his chest. He chuckles as though you couldn’t have asked a sillier question. “Of course not. You weigh nothing more than a couple of grapes.”

You pray gratefully to whatever deity can hear you because when he turns around the corner, the office is otherwise empty, save for the janitor that has his back turned. Your cheeks are so heated that you plant your face further into his chest, refusing to look at your surroundings. You stopped wondering if Jimin could hear the manic pounding of your heart when you hear his, and you carry that secret with you until you hear the door click shut.

---

Jimin rests you gently on his desk before retrieving a first aid kid from your desk outside of his office. He’s gentle as he examines your foot, taking care not to move it around too much and risk injuring it further.

“Okay, you’re definitely good, but make sure to ice it when you get home, okay? And please call into work if you can’t move tomorrow. I have faith that you absolutely can do your job from home,” he smiles confidently.

True to his word, the sharp pain has since ebbed into a dull throb as you twist your ankle around. Perhaps if you stayed in the file room longer, you wouldn’t have risked embarrassing yourself in front of Jimin, but you won’t lie – you enjoyed being wrapped up in his arms as he carried you into his office.

“Thank you,” you mumble, shifting forward to stand.

“Nuh-uh,” Jimin tuts, stopping you in your tracks with a gentle nudge on your shoulder. “That doesn’t mean you’re good to go anywhere, missy. You’re staying here until I finish my work so I can drive you home.”

“But…” you protest, only to have the words die in your throat when he shakes his head firmly. Relenting to his decision, you agree. “Only if I can buy dinner,” you persuade.

“Deal,” Jimin replies with a grin.

---

When the food arrives, you’re mostly done with catching up with your tasks, having worked through most of the evening in silence after Jimin retrieved your laptop from your desk. You didn’t realize you were starving until he returned with a giant white plastic bag’s worth of food. You weren’t sure what he’d like, so you got one of everything, allowing yourself to splurge a little bit after he took care of you that afternoon. Hell, the entire day.

“God, I’m starving,” you comment, closing your laptop to place it on the coffee table in front of you.

Your stomach grumbles louder with each plastic container Jimin opens, the smell of spices mingling deliciously in the air.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he grins, tapping on the plastic plate that was provided in your massive order. “Do you want me to bring the food over to you or can you stand?”

You test your ankle a few times by standing slowly, making sure to put most of your weight on the other leg. Finding your balance is a little tricky, but you’re happy to report that you’re able to at least hobble over to his desk without any chance of falling.

“Careful…” he mumbles as he watches you, arms outstretched as if he’s ready to catch you should you slip and fall. You have no doubt that Jimin would be able to do it too.

“See, I’m fine?” you grin with a roll of your eyes, scooping out some rice and every other side dish that catches your eye.

Jimin joins you on the couch, a hand holding his large stack of food while the other hovers over your elbow despite your protests. As you settled in and began eating, it’s only then that you realized how, dare you say, intimate this was. Of course, you’ve had plenty of company related outings where you end up in a restaurant with just Jimin, but that’s mostly during the day. And here, in his office so late in the evening, the surroundings are akin to a candle-lit dinner, especially since he decided to turn all the lights off aside from his sole table lamp, casting dancing shadows on his face that make your insides flop around while you attempt to focus on your plate instead of his gorgeous face.

When the rest of your dinner has been put away, you’re now left with a limbo in your schedule. On one hand, it’s approaching 9pm, and you still have work tomorrow, so you really should get going, but watching Jimin settle back into his chair, round glasses perched on his nose as he returned to his tasks, you’re reluctant to part from him.

“Do you normally work this late, sir?”

You weren’t paying attention when he had taken off his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, but right now, with the sliver of skin on his chest exposed, he doesn’t look like the CEO you’ve worked under for several years now. In fact, you’re reminded just then that you’re about the same age, still relatively young and fresh-faced, and surely the hours he put in outside of work is the reason why he’s able to attain this prestigious title today. Jimin doesn’t reply to your question right away, mumbling a ‘one moment’ under his breath as he types.

“I don’t normally stay this late,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. “But a certain secretary of mine decided to play Sleeping Beauty on me today, so I have a bit more work that needs to be done.”

You open your mouth to apologize, but you’re cut off by his boyish grin. “I’m just kidding,” he teases with a wink.

“Well, umm, I should probably clean up the files since I’m mostly done with what I have to do for tomorrow,” you mutter sheepishly.

“Sure, don’t get hurt this time, all right?”

“That’s cold, sir,” you pout at his teasing grin. “My ankle is still a bit numb from the pain.”

You leave Jimin’s office accompanied by the sound of his sweet laughter, and when the door closes shut behind you, you can’t help but lean against it for a moment, smiling to yourself.

---

You spend way too long picking up the scattered papers from the floor due to your earlier injury. By the time you are done, Jimin appears, peeking his head in to ask how you’re doing. You gesture at the stacks of folders on the nearby table in triumph, proud that you were able to complete such a task.

“Colour me impressed.” Jimin examines the stack of folders in admiration, praising you for a job well done.

“Thank you, but this was the least I could do after making such a mess.”

He hums as he surveys the stack, flipping through the first few pages before placing them back down. “I’ll help you carry these upstairs. I wouldn’t want to be sued for negligence,” he chuckles as he picks up a stack.

Ever considerate, Jimin left you a stack to carry by yourself, so you don’t feel useless. You can only grin as you follow him into the elevators (and you may have stolen a few more glances than usual while you were waiting).

“Ah, look how late it’s gotten,” Jimin comments when the two of you reach his office. The old grandfather clock he keeps in there rings eleven times, but despite the lateness of the evening, you’ve yet to feel tired.

After placing your stack of folders onto his desk, you approach the clock out of curiosity. It stands out of place in the modern-looking office, the ornate swirls on the wood a great contrast to most of the sleek black furniture. It’s the first thing you notice when you first meet Jimin in the office all those years ago. You never had a chance to ask him what it’s about despite being so close… and you realize that tonight was a rare occasion for you to satiate that curiosity of yours.

Your fingers trace the swan etched on the side of the clock, admiring the way it comes alive in the wood, wings spread out as though it’s about to take flight in front of you. “What’s the story about this clock? It looks older than I am.”

Jimin looks up from where he sits, gazing warmly at your profile while you play with a relic from his past. “Oh, him?” he smiles fondly, leaning back on his chair. “He’s been with me for over 200 years or so? I’m surprised he still works, to be honest.”

You can only gape in surprise. “You mean this clock has been in your family for over 200 years?”

A shadow passes over Jimin’s face. “…Not quite,” he mutters, though he’s not sure you heard him. “Anyway, he’s given to me by a friend. It’s the only furniture I carry with me from my house every time I get a grand office to myself,” he gestures at the room, splaying his arms wide.

Your fondness for him grows as he talks wistfully about the clock like it's alive. It suits him, you think, how he treats everyone with such kindness, you’re not surprised that it extends to objects as well. Turning back to face the clock, you sigh, knowing that it probably is time for you to leave if you don’t want to risk being late tomorrow morning.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, sir, I think I’ll get going now.”

Jimin looks at the clock and nods, and to your surprise, he stands up from his desk, placing his glasses on top of his keyboard before offering an arm towards you. “All right, I’ll walk you to your car. It’s awfully late and I don’t want anything to happen to my favourite secretary.”

The compliment makes you laugh, butterflies threatening to burst from your stomach. “I believe I’m your only secretary, sir.”

“Ah, I meant what I said,” he winks.

Just as you’re crossing the threshold of his office, your heels catch on the edge of his rug, sending you tumbling forward with a yelp. You expect your flailing arms to catch yourself when you hit the floor, but the impact never comes because Jimin’s suddenly right there, strong arms holding your waist as his eyes expand in shock.

“Are you all right!?” he half-shouts. “You really should be more careful!”

You can barely listen to his nagging because your hands are pressed on his sculpted chest, a sliver of skin peeking through from where he undid the first two buttons of his dress shirt. Your breath hitches in your throat as you graze the heated skin with your fingertips, and you hear Jimin inhale sharply – whatever words he was uttering caught in his throat as he zeroes in on your hands.

He whispers your name oh-so quietly, caressing every syllable with his tongue, and you slowly bring your eyes to his face. Jimin traps you in his hypnotizing gaze, never letting you break away, not even when your heart pounds so loudly against your ribcage, you’re sure it’s about to breakthrough; not even when your breaths turn into shallow staccatos, your head beginning to swim from the lack of oxygen. You can sense the strong emotion that rests behind those knowing eyes, and as you continue to stare, you wonder if it matches the one you hold in yours.

“Why do you look at me like that?” you murmur.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kiss me?” You didn’t mean to make it sound like a question, but your voice catches in your throat when Jimin leans in, his eyes drooping close.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispers, lips ghosting over yours, faces merely inches apart.

“Yes.”

The breathless affirmation barely left you when Jimin attaches his lips to yours, kissing you with the same urgency that you’ve felt in your dreams, only this time it’s real. One of his hands travel from your waist to cup the side of your face, his thumb swiping against your cheek. He catches the bottom of your lip with his teeth, tugging it lightly to make you moan against his hold.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he rasps into your skin as he undoes your blouse. “To touch you; to kiss you this way… You’ll be the death of me.” Every word is punctuated with a searing kiss, his lips setting your skin ablaze when he passes by your neck, your jaw, your collarbone.

“Ah—Jimin,” you gasp, tugging the ends of his blonde locks as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Jimin lifts you up with little effort, his mouth never leaving your neck until he sets you down gently on his desk; his things thrown haphazardly on the floor below with a sweep of his arm.

“Beautiful,” he mumbles at your half-naked state. His thumb swipes over a pebbled nipple, causing you to arch your back with a whimper. He lets his nail scratch gently along the sides of your breasts, almost absentmindedly, while he watches your reactions with amusement. “Would you let me see all of you?”

All you can muster is a breathy ‘Please’.

You help him remove the remainders of your clothing to join the mess on the floor, your body shivering as you lay naked on his desk. Jimin hums as he traces your curves with the palm of his hand, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. “Let me take care of you first, yeah?”

With wide eyes, you watch him sink to the floor while his strong hands push your legs apart to reveal your glistening slit. Jimin breathes in deeply as he kisses along your thighs, his lips leaving a trail of reminders before he dives in.

“Jimin…” you whimper as he drags the flat of his tongue along your folds.

Jimin notices the way your spine locks in place when he repeats the action. “Relax for me, sweetheart. I got you.” A hand reaches out from below to intertwine with yours and he gives you a firm squeeze before resuming his task.

He starts out slow – dragging the flat of his tongue across your folds while his remaining hand circles around your entrance. You’re left shaking where you lay, unable to connect your thoughts together to stammer out a coherent sentence. All that’s left in your brain is his name, increasingly becoming permanent with every second that goes by.

When he feels your body relax underneath him, Jimin prods your entrance with his tongue, sinking in and out of your hole as you pulse around him before he replaces it with a finger, and then two. You hiss at the slight burn, squeezing the hand you’re holding into a tight grip.

“Relax,” he reminds you gently, swiping his thumb across your pale knuckles. “Focus on nothing else but me.”

“More…” you mewl, shivering under his grip. “Praise me more.”

Jimin chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. Instead of a sassy remark, you receive the soothing lilt in his voice. “Good girl,” he whispers. “My good girl. You’re doing so well; look at this cunt greedily sucking me in.”

You’re lavished in praise, though his voice shifts into a deep growl with every coax of his fingers inside you. And when his thumb swipes across your clit, the tight tether you held onto slowly unravels.

“Are you close, sweetheart? God, you’re really tight,” he hisses before replacing his thumb with his mouth. “You’re gonna be a good girl and cum on my fingers, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe, burning like a thousand suns under his attention. “I’m so close!”

“Let go for me. I’m right here,” Jimin reassures you in whispers before silencing himself with your taste.

“Jimin!”

You think you screamed, but you can’t be too sure, not when your body is pulled apart and pieced together as you come undone before him. You’ve never had an orgasm like this – a great abyss threatening to pull you under as the waves slams against your wavering figure repeatedly. Through it all, Jimin drinks your essence, his sleeves soaked through as he continues to thrust into your walls.

“I can’t—not anymore,” you protest weakly.

“You can and you will. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” Your feeble attempts to push his head away stop at his emphasis. “That’s it,” Jimin praises as your hand returns to your side before planting a series of kisses along your folds, “Just relax one more time for me, okay?”

Jimin is by no means gentle this time around, slipping a third finger inside before increasing his pace. His once sweet words morph into growls laced with passion, washing your body aflame with desire. “God, you’re so fucking tight. This tiny cunt can barely fit my fingers, I’m not certain you’ll be able to fit all of me inside,” he grunts. “Do you think you can handle the stretch?”

You can barely keep your eyes open through his taunts, your mind spiralling out of control as you focus on the pleasure derived from his fingers. The answer you give him is intelligible, a choked whine of his name in place of agreement.

“Oh?” Jimin lifts an eyebrow at your state. “Too fucked out to talk already? I’ve barely started,” he chuckles. “What’s wrong, baby?” In his dangerously low voice, the otherwise cute pet name sounds demeaning. “Are my fingers too much for you?”

He tuts in disapproval when a beat lapses without a coherent response. Then, like sweet torture, his pace switches into a snail’s crawl. “I don’t know if you can take me in if you’re this out of it with just my fingers. Squeeze my hand once if you want to continue. Twice if you want to stop.”

“No!” The protest you utter is whiny and grating to your ears, and your attempt to sit up fails when your body refuses to peel itself away from his desk. “Don’t stop, please? So close.” That was… barely a sentence, but you beg silently that it does the job. Remembering his request, you squeeze the hand you’re holding once to reassure him.

Jimin smiles at your resilience. “Okay, but we’ll go slow this time. Ah, ah,” he tuts when you begin to whine. “Slow or not at all. Your choice.”

You grit your teeth at the illusion of choice, but the pace he’s set doesn’t seem so bad at all. With a great sigh, you relent to his wishes. “Slow,” you whisper. “We can go slow. I promise I’ll be good, sir.”

“Sir?” he muses with a raised brow. “Hmm… Well, I do like the sound of that. And what about you? Do you like ‘sweetheart’,” he plants a kiss on your thigh. You shiver. “…’baby’,” another kiss, this time higher, “…’pet’?” Jimin replaces his fingers with his mouth as he makes out with your cunt, his tongue slipping in and out of your pulsing hole. Face soaked with your arousal; he returns his fingers in their rightful place, eyes glinting with mischief as he fucks you slowly. “Or maybe, you prefer something harsher… how about ‘slut’?” Jimin attaches his mouth on your clit, grazing the nub ever-so-gently with his teeth.

Your gasp slips into a moan at the spine-chilling sensation, your eyes rolling back. “Love it—ah! Call me whatever you w-want.”

“My good, pretty slut. So turned on she’s making a mess all over my desk. I’m sure the smell will linger for days,” he chuckles into your skin. “Oh, look at you, clenching hard around my fingers. You like the thought of me walking inside my office tomorrow and thinking of you, huh? I’ve always known you were territorial. Isn’t that why you won’t let me hire a partner for you? Staking your claim as the only person that always has access to me?” At your subtle nod, his smile widens into a mischievous grin. “Looks like I was wrong about you being good. You’re a naughty thing, aren’t you?”

Jimin couldn’t help the taunts coming out from his mouth, the true nature of his being – the need to corrupt – showing itself through the cracks in the control he wields. And you… so responsive, beyond anything he’s ever imagined. Your body is so sensitive that it doesn’t require him to use his powers at all. Maybe the dreams he’s been poisoning you with have taken affect. The thought saddens him somehow. Could this not have happened without the use of his powers after all? Was he nothing without them?

Caught in his thoughts, Jimin doesn’t realize the stutter in his movements. He’s about to apologize when you interrupt him, as you assume that it’s your fault for not responding to his questions. “Sir, please! I swear I’m a good girl. Please don’t stop… I’m so close.”

His spirits lift at the sight of you mewling before him, your body jumping with every crook of his fingers inside. No, he thinks, it’s time for him to focus on you and nothing else, resonating with his earlier advice. He releases a little bit of his power, letting it mingle with the air to heighten your senses. “If you’re so good, cum for me then,” he breathes, drowning you in praise and kisses along your heated skin. “One more time. Let me hear you call my name one more time.”

“Jimin—” you obey, breathless and shaking. “Jimin.”

His name is a prayer etched upon your lips and with every inhale, Jimin’s unaware of the mark he’s left, not just riddled along your skin, but at the very core of your heart. This time, when you come undone, it’s with a blazing inferno, your body calling out to your release and a strong desire for him to be yours.

“That’s it. Let go.”

So, you do. With your heart trapped in your throat, pounding along to the tune of his fingers; with your nails scratching the back of his hand that you’ve held through the entire duration; and with all your adoration, pouring out from every crevice you didn’t know existed in your body.

This time, when you beg him to stop, Jimin listens. He stands to claim your lips sweetly, engulfing them with his, a slow kindling in comparison to before. Your eyes can barely open, but when you manage to peek, you see the knot of concentration resting on his brows. The smile finds its way into the kiss, one that Jimin reciprocates. It doesn’t matter that you can taste your saltiness on his tongue, because all that exists now is Jimin.

Jimin, your attentive boss, who’s always had his team’s best interest in mind.

Jimin, the harmless flirt, who reminds you every day that you’re beautiful when he catches you staring at your reflection in the mirror with a cocky grin.

Jimin, colleague, friend, and hopefully lover.

You intertwine your arms around his neck to pull him deeper, closer, until there’s not an inch of air between your bodies. What you’re doing hardly constitutes as kissing – lips gliding across each other. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, making them heavier than before. When you part, there’s beautiful silence, a serenity created from unspoken words, though there’s a quiet certainty that both parties feel the same way despite their unshared feelings.

“Jimin, I…” you begin to whisper, the confession sitting idly on your tongue. Your lids are heavy, refusing to open despite your desire to see his face. “That was incredible.”

Jimin nuzzles his face on the crook of your neck, breathing you in, sweat and all. “Satisfied?”

You chuckle breathlessly, a shaky hand absentmindedly playing with his hand. “I don’t know if I can stand, injury aside. I’m pretty sure my legs are wobbly.”

“I can always carry you to your car,” he hums. “Better yet, let me take you home.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Jimin helps you up with a firm hand on your back before handing you the clothes he threw earlier on the floor. When your hands are too shaky to loop the buttons of your blouse, he chuckles and takes over, so you take the time to admire his beauty – at the now-messy blonde hair that frames the sides of his face, a complete disarray compared to his normal slicked-back look; at his cheeks, dotted crimson from exertion; and all the way to the satisfied smirk resting on that perfect pout. Oh, you can kiss him all day.

Naturally, your gaze gravitates to his eyes, and you smile when you notice his expanded pupils, how they almost engulf the crimson of his irises that they’re almost black.

…Crimson?

Your hand wraps around his wrist to stop his current task while your eyes search his face for an explanation.

At the death grip circling around his wrists, he stares into your wide eyes with confusion. “Is there something on my face?”

“Red,” is all you say, a whisper of disbelief, but it’s enough for Jimin to connect the dots.

There’s a crack in his carefully constructed façade.

“Shit!” He rips his hands away to turn around and shield his eyes from yours. Jimin has used his power the entire day, and now he’s left spent, an empty battery, unable to erase your memory and change his appearance. He tries to think of an excuse – something to put you at ease for now, but nothing would make sense, and his panicking brain has left the building in lieu of aiding him.

Red. Just like your dreams. The feeling of déjà vu, the heavy fog that puts you to sleep… was it all his doing? Your face pales into horror as you look for an answer in his quaking shoulders. It couldn’t be… right?

“Are you the reason for my dreams?” You had to make sure. He can’t be the reason for it… right? When he doesn’t respond, you leave the desk and approach his figure. “Jimin?”

Just before your hand touches his back, Jimin moves away. “Stay back,” he murmurs in warning. “I… I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

You retract your hand away, but you’re firm in your stance, refusing to move until you have an explanation. “Tell me. Just who are you?”

Jimin struggles with his options. Erasing your memory is the safest bet, but it’s a power he has yet to master. The fickle nature of the magic would mean that he’d risk losing this entire night with you. Going back to your relationship before would be agony. There was no way he’d be able to be the same boss, you’d spy the longing on his face a mile away. No, erasing your memory was not an option… so, what does that leave him?

“The truth.” You voice his thoughts so easily. “I want to know the truth.”

This entire day was all wrong. You weren’t supposed to find out so soon. He figured he could hide his true nature a little longer, but now any hopes of a relationship with you have been thrown out the window… all because he couldn’t maintain his control over his powers. Stupid. So, stupid. He’d have to relocate, so he doesn’t have to see your face.

The soft call of his name breaks him from his thoughts, like a hand reaching out into the darkness. In his agony, he accepts your help, which means turning around to face you.

To face the truth.

A gasp leaves your lips. And then he begins.

“I’m not human, though I don’t doubt you’ve probably figured it out.” Jimin offers a rueful smile that you don’t reciprocate. You clamp your lips to avoid interrupting, letting him explain from the very beginning.

Your mind whirls with information about supposed mythical beings of old. When you ask how long he’s walked the earth, he winces. “Too long,” Jimin mumbles, but doesn’t delve further into the matter. You don’t broach the subject either. Jimin explains that he’s an incubus, who feasts on dreams to regain energy, but he swears he only takes a little at a time and that it hasn’t affected any of his previous targets.

You skirt over the fact that there’s been others before you. It makes sense, but the ugly green monster that rears its head is less rational than you are.

“So, your previous… targets,” your lips curl in disgust at the word, “don’t remember their dreams… Why do I remember mine?”

Jimin shrugs and stays silent, though you have a feeling it’s not from lack of knowledge.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whisper with regret.

Though he isn’t surprised by your decision, his heart breaks all the same. He hangs his head in shame, letting the curtain of his hair shield you from his tears. Of course, you’d feel cheated; manipulated. Any rational human would assume so – that their emotions are completely fabricated because of his powers, even he couldn’t be deluded enough to believe the possibility of your feelings to be genuine. Yet, your next words bring a flutter of hope in his heart.

“10… 15 years will go by like a blink of an eye and everyone will begin to wonder why you haven’t changed.” You shake your head, not in disbelief, but to rid the thoughts of a domestic life ahead with him as you begin to lay the foundation of a wall around your heart. “And if we have kids…” That’s a delusion too far in the future, but you’d be lying to say you hadn’t thought of it. You shake your head once. Firmly. Discarding all hopes of a future with Jimin.

When you lift your head to apologize for a final time, you’re surprised to find him amused instead of grief-stricken.

“What?”

Jimin can hardly contain his excitement. “So… your only problem is time-related? That I won’t grow old with you?”

Was he insinuating that your concerns are stupid? “Okay, Mr. Demon,” you scowl. “What other problems should I be worried about?”

He chuckles quietly before reaching out, the tips of his fingers brushing against your cheek. Your body turns rigid, and you’re hardly breathing. With a wicked grin, he whispers, “How about the fact that I have the ability to compel you to serve me? Haven’t you considered that I, a demon, may be dangerous?”

This time, it’s your turn to laugh. Through your heaving breaths, you manage to see the pout on his face, which only makes you laugh harder. “Jimin,” you chuckle, wiping your tears with the palm of your hand. “I have no doubt that you would have done it already if you wanted to. So, yes, I’m more worried about the time thing.”

“Does that mean…” he whispers, hopeful. “Does that mean you want to grow old with me?”

“Yes. I mean no! I mean—”

“Please,” he cuts you off. “The truth.”

It isn’t fair how he used your words against you, but you answer him anyway. “I don’t know if we should jump into talking about marriage so quickly,” you mumble, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I mean! We’re not even dating yet.”

“Then be my girlfriend.”

You must be hearing things. “What?”

Jimin takes a step towards you, his palm now fully resting against your cheek. “I mean it. If your only issue is time, I already have a solution. I gave up my immortality a year ago now,” he confesses. His crimson eyes hold the same intense yearning you’re too familiar with: of sleepless nights alone, and of unsatisfactory touches from strangers. “I would’ve explained everything to you if you hadn’t found out today, but, I guess this is sort of fate?”

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs. “In all my time on this earth, I’ve never met someone like you, and I don’t think I’ll meet another after you either. That’s why it must be you. Even an immortal being dies eventually, and I’d rather choose my way of ‘going’, so to speak.”

Jimin lets the words sink in, waiting patiently for your response. “You meant it all?” you parrot, stunned at the confession. “How long have you been… interested in me?” Was it too early to say ‘love’? Depending on his answer, you assume so.

“When you introduced yourself five years ago in this office,” he sighs wistfully, stealing a glance at his door like he’s relieving the memory. “All I’ve wanted to do was to touch you;” he leans in, face inching closer.

“To kiss you;” he whispers as his lips mould against yours.

“To hold you.” Jimin wraps you up in an embrace, holding you tightly in his arms. In your ears, he whispers, a final confession that eases all your worries. “I want to grow old with you.”

The sincerity in his voice brings you to tears, and you let them fall, soaking the white of his shirt grey.

“Hey, hey, are you crying? Did I say something wrong? Please don’t cry…” Jimin frets, lowering himself to hook his chin on your shoulder, so he could squeeze you tighter.

You nuzzle further into his chest with a teary chuckle. “N-No. Nothing’s wrong. Just happy.”

“Good,” he mumbles before planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “Although now that I think about it, I haven’t heard your response.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you forgotten already?” he chuckles. “I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“More like demanded,” you snicker. “But yes, I’d love nothing more, but you’re going to have to prove yourself to me first.”

Jimin lights up at your response, the ruby in his eyes glowing bright despite the dim light. “Of course, anything you ask, I’ll do it. I’ll show you every day that my feelings are genuine.”

He then proceeds to hold up his pinkie towards you. “As long as you promise to stay with me?”

With a laugh, you join your pinkie with his, sealing the promise with a final kiss.

“I do.”

moon's notes: i didn't include sex in this because i'm kind of bored of writing it tbh? but i will have a drabble out sometime next week for this couple because i love them so so much! what do you think about the dulce somnii universe so far? do you like it? what theories do you have for the other members 👀

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