Jimin stepped out of the bathroom, a towel draped around his neck as he lazily dried his damp hair. His black shirt clung to him slightly, and his grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. He caught sight of her through the mirror—she was laying on her side, curled up at the edge of the bed, scrolling through her phone like he didn't exist in the room.
A soft smirk tugged at his lips as he observed her. "Ignoring me now, huh?" he murmured to himself.
YN, pretending not to notice him, stayed focused on her phone. She could feel his presence, though, and it made her chest flutter in anticipation.
Jimin finally tossed the towel aside and walked toward the bed. Without saying a word, he laid down on his side of the bed, close to her. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of her phone notifications and the low hum of his breathing.
Suddenly, YN scooted back just slightly, her back still facing him, her body deliberately pressing her soft curves—her ass cheeks—against him.
Jimin's breath hitched immediately, his entire body tensing for a brief moment. But then, that signature smirk crept onto his lips. Oh, she's playing games now, he thought, amused.
For a few seconds, he just lay there, watching the back of her head as if calculating his next move. Then, without warning, he shifted closer, hovering slightly over her, and snatched her phone out of her hand.
"Wha—Jimin!" YN squeaked, snapping out of her act as she turned her head.
He didn't give her a chance to react further. Gently but firmly, he grabbed her shoulder and turned her onto her back, so she was now lying face-to-face with him.
Her breath hitched, her wide eyes looking up at him in shock. Jimin leaned on one elbow, looking down at her with a calm, unreadable expression while holding her phone in his hand.
"Jimin..." she whispered nervously, her voice barely audible. "What's... wrong?"
He didn't respond. The only sound in the room was the soft ticking of the clock and the faint thud of her heartbeat ringing in her ears.
Without breaking eye contact, his large hands moved downward, sliding over her waist until they reached her ass cheeks. YN's entire body tensed, her breath hitching again as his fingers gripped her firmly and pulled her closer, eliminating the space between them.
"Jimin—!" she gasped, her hands instinctively flying to his chest, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt.
Jimin still said nothing. Instead, he lowered his face toward her neck, his warm breath brushing against her skin as he hovered near the sensitive spot. Slowly, deliberately, he exhaled softly, blowing air along her neck.
YN froze. Her grip on his shirt tightened, her body betraying her as goosebumps erupted across her skin. She bit her lip, trying to fight the sensation, but her body instinctively leaned into him, offering him more access to her neck.
Jimin smirked against her skin, his lips grazing just enough to make her shiver. He buried his face deeper into the crook of her neck, inhaling softly as if savoring the moment.
Just as she was about to say something—her mind racing between confusion and temptation—Jimin finally spoke.
"Yawning... Let's sleep, Muffin," he murmured playfully, his voice vibrating against her skin.
YN's eyes widened in disbelief, her face turning red. "W-What?!" she stammered, trying to push herself back.
But Jimin's hold on her was firm, his grip on her ass cheeks still strong as he hugged her closer, completely ignoring her protests.
"Y-You're joking, right? Let me go!" she demanded, wriggling against him.
Jimin's only response was a satisfied hum as he pretended to get comfortable, still nuzzling her neck.
YN's face burned as she realized she was completely trapped. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, her mind spinning with frustration and something else she couldn't quite place.
"Jimin... you're unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, trying not to let the heat rising in her body take over.
Jimin chuckled softly, his hold loosening just slightly but not enough for her to escape. "Goodnight, Muffin," he whispered smugly.
YN groaned internally, pressing her palms against his chest in defeat.she thought, Why does it feel like I'm the one losing this game...?
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