CINDERELLA'S CONTRACT | pjm √

seventeen

❝ pictures.❞

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"I can't hold back anymore." Jimin  heaves, his sweat drenched body glistening under the sunlight. He hastily pulls off his shirt, throwing it aside.

At that moment— I was in a trance. There seems to be an allowance of touch between the both of us; both intimate, and loving. He takes my body up in a strong pull of his arms and straddled me on his waist. He then unbuckles his belt, sliding past the denim and onto the floor beside the bed. God. There wasn't a moment of hesitation before he takes me all in; kissing me in a distraughted mess he was. He kissed me like a lover; like he was wondering— craving for me.

"J-jimin..." I called out pleadingly, in need for his touch. He listens and pulls down my dress; enough to expose my collarbone. Jimin plunges in and sucks tightly on the skin of my neck, creating red marks everywhere to mark his territory. Every time his lips brushes against my bare skin, I felt ecstaticity like never before; a sense of inexplicable joy warmed my heart and sent currents down my spine. His strong arms held me preciously, pressing me onto his large chest.

"I...." he looks at me warmly, caressing my cheeks with love. It was when the sunlight hit the window of our room that I saw the gleam of warmth in his eyes clearly, looking straight at me. Love. It was present in his eyes that very moment, as he gently brushes the tips of his cold fingers against my burning cheek.

" I love y—

"Sir? It is dinner time."  There was a sudden knock on our door accompanied by a sullen sounding voice. I slide my hands onto Jimin's cheeks and give him one last peck on the lips before properly wearing my dress. Jimin then covers his face with an arm in a flustered attempt to hide his blushed cheeks, only for me to realise and chuckle under my breath.

The both of us head out to the dining room, a somewhat awkward distance between us as we walked.

"What did you want to say just now?" I teased him, turning to face Jimin whose attention is on everything except me.

"Nothing." He turns the other way, putting his hands in his pocket. His ears flushed a fluorescent red.

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2 days later

"Yona, get changed. I need you to golf with me." Jimin leans onto the doorframe, the tightness of his shirt wrapping around his biceps as he crossed his arms.

"I'm lazy." I merely stated, rolling around in my bed. He shoots me a frown. "But I want to see you in a tennis skirt—"

"Oh? So that's it? You want me to accompany you because you're a pervert." I sat up on the bed and stuck out my tongue at him.

"That's not it, I just haven't seen you in any skirts. A man wants to see their woman in a skirt, you know." He pulls back his hair with a smirk.

"I am not your woman." I clicked my tongue.

"Should I read the contract again? Or you've forgotten?" Jimin replies with a cheeky grin.

"Fine. I'll go." I sighed, throwing the covers off the bed. Jimin looks at me in amusement as I jumped out of bed without a bra and adorning sweatpants. The print on my shirt screams in loud print: "SLEEPING WHORE" Guess who's favourite shirt this is.

I started by brushing my hair and teeth. While I was picking out an outfit, a maid interrupts and assigns me a tennis outfit to wear. Guess I'm not wearing my own skirt, then. It took a while before I could fit into the tight skirt with the amount of cupcakes I shoved into my mouth last night.

But it fit. How the hell does Jimin know my measurements? Is he a stalker?

I walked out of my room in surprise to see Jimin leaning on the wall opposite my door. He takes one good look at me and smirks.

"sexy." he mumbles underneath his breath.

The chauffeur was about to come with the limousine when an attendant suddenly rushes to Jimin's side, panick evident in his face.

"Sir....Someone sent these pictures...."

And upon opening up, was a picture of Jimin hovering over me in bed.