JIMIN ONESHOTS IMAGINES

Under The Table

— 16 —

Teasing him under the table while having a dinner with his family.
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We are having a dinner with his family on a five star restaurant. From the moment we sat down, I could tell Jimin didn't suspect a thing. His smile was warm, polite, the kind he puts on around his parents. He looked perfect in that white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up, veins showing. God. He was asking for it.

I leaned in close before the appetizers arrived and whispered in his ear, "Let's see how long you can hold it together, baby."

He blinked. Smiled nervously. I smirked. While his mom gushed about childhood stories and his dad went on about career paths, my hand slowly slid under the tablecloth and landed on his thigh. Just a light touch at first. Innocent.

His leg twitched. His eyes flicked down at me, sharp. I pretended not to notice and asked his mom some random question.

But I wasn't done. My fingers teased upward, stroking the inside of his thigh gently, so slowly that even I wanted to scream. He stiffened in more ways than one and coughed suddenly.

"You okay, Jimin?" his mom asked sweetly.

He looked murderous when he turned to me. I smiled, cut a piece of steak, and continued like a saint. But under the table, I squeezed. Hard.

I felt it. He was already hard and straining through his slacks. And I swear, the sound he made that tiny grunt masked by a sip of wine was the highlight of my entire week.

By the time dessert menus were passed around, he was shifting in his seat like it was physically painful to sit still. His jaw was clenched. His thigh muscles were tight. And when he finally stood up to leave, I caught a very satisfying glimpse of his problem.

The second we got outside and waved our final goodbyes to his family, his hand grabbed mine tightly.

"We're going home," he said through his teeth. I played dumb. "Already? I thought we were getting dessert."

"You are dessert."

Oh.

The second we stepped into the apartment, the door slammed shut, and his eyes locked on me like I was prey. He didn't even give me time to breathe before he pinned me against the wall.

"You thought that was funny?" he growled, lips brushing my jaw. "Teasing me like that in front of my parents?"

"Didn't hear you complain," I whispered, breath hitching. "You made me bulge through my pants. In front of my parents, Y/N."

I smiled, smug. "You looked so hot trying to hold it in." His mouth crashed into mine, hot and angry, and I knew I'd pushed him too far.

But that was the plan all along.

And I had no regrets.

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