"Trust me, babygirl. You don't want to start a war with me."
___________
Park Jimin = biggest fuckboy on the planet.
You're a new student in his class. You don't how to play his games, you don't know the rules.
He drives you mad and you drive him ma...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
WARNING
*mature/sexual content because (Jungkook's voice) it's been a while*
The honey sunlight takes its time to fill up the suite, it's streaming strands of a golden flood warming the significant room all the way to the surface of the high ceiling. A window stands slightly open, inviting a soft breeze to mix with icy air conditioning as it massages the skin of the guests in the room.
Almost sinking into the sheets, Jimin lies on the silk fabric, his body as calm as a sleeping sea while his eyes fixate on a screen before him. His red shorts camouflage into the sheets while his chest remains bare, his faultlessly carved abs on show, the surface absorbing the heavy sunlight.
Thumb stubbornly glued to one button of the TV remote, he constantly flicks through channels, waiting for anything to catch his eye. But the TV remains just as stubborn as him, depriving him of his rightful entertainment. Rolling his eyes at the screen in defeat, he tosses the remote to the edge of the bed, frustrated by its useless attitude.
His body sinks lower into the bed while he blankly stares into a wall, his muscles that are usually exhausted fire up with energy, anticipation thrilling every fiber within him. Boredom eats away at his brain, digging him into a hole of nothingness while the rest of him begs him to do something productive.
Gaze shifting onto your cross-legged posture sitting in the corner of the room, he ponders upon your appearance, admiring the small and soft details as a short white towel wraps around your flawless figure while your usually threatening long hair stays locked up in another small towel, snatching up each strand to suffocate in the fabric until they all run dry.
Miniature droplets sparkle on your bare back, waiting for the hot sunlight to steal them of their presence. Anticipating for your make up to finally be done, you draw a red stick across your lips, masking it with a deep red that puts all roses to shame. Unfolding your legs, you rest your feet onto the dresser and offer yourself an impressed smile, praising the art you've managed to paint onto your face.
Jimin slides off the bed smoothly, your exotic looks intriguing him as it disintegrates his boredom to ash. From behind, he leans down and kisses your cheek. "You look beautiful."
You cockily smile back "I know."
His chuckle fills the room as he plants quick kisses from the tip of your shoulder and onto your neck, moving swiftly to find your mouth. You dodge away at his attempt, causing him to frown at you like a begging puppy.
"Nu-uh." You scold him. "You aren't messing up my lipstick this time otherwise I'll be looking like a clown by the time we reach the show tonight."
His shoulders slouch. "So, I can't kiss you for the rest of the night?"
"Not on the lips, no."
He stares at your obstinate reflection, another idea coming to mind. He swirls your chair around, making you face his bare chest. With his hands snatching both arm rests, he pulls his face close to yours. "But that means I can kiss you anywhere else, right?"
