14 Days | PJM

nineteen

Days later, you're worn out from press conferences, photo shoots, intense work-out sessions, and the endless, tiring meetings with the company.

One particular day, you doze off in your studio when your vibrating phone awakens you. Startled, you reflexively answer without checking caller ID first. It's usually your manager, anyway.

"Hello?" you groggily answer.

"Are you sleeping in your studio?"

You sit up and rub your eyes. "Jimin? How do you know I'm in my studio?"

You hear a knock on the door and an echo through the phone. Upon opening the door, you hang up and invite Jimin inside.

"I saw your light was on through the door," he says. "It's not creepy, right?"

You chuckle and slump on the couch. "Not at all."

He sits beside you and strokes your hair. "You seem exhausted. Why don't you go home?"

You shrug. "I'm not happy with the lyrics of this one song. I can't leave until I get it right."

After discussing the lyrics for a few minutes, Jimin offers helpful insights and advice. You listen carefully and take note, thanking him for his genius.

With that burden now out of the way, you contentedly mold into the couch like melting wax. You rest your head on his shoulder and he places a hand on your thigh. You play with the rings on his fingers, twisting and sliding them off then replacing them.

He turns his body towards you and runs a finger along your earlobe, lightly touching your dangling earring. He gradually comes closer and kisses your neck. You feel a spark in your body. He sucks your neck briefly and pulls away with his jaw clenched, remembering not to leave hickeys.

You cross one of your legs over his and kiss his straining jaw. "Relax," you whisper. He does quite the opposite as he pushes you back so that you're lying on the couch with your head on the armrest.

Revisiting your neck, he bites you hard enough to stir your hormones but light enough to not leave marks. You moan and wriggle as the succession of bites tickle you.

He rubs your pussy and rolls his body on yours like a wave in the ocean. You're all for it, but you kind of hoped it would be intimate instead of rough this time. He kisses you hard and pulls your breasts out of your shirt while you caress his back and weightlessly wrap your legs around him.

He pulls your pants off and tosses it to the ground. You sit up and lift his shirt for him to remove then unbuckle his belt. He pushes you back down as he showcases his hardened dick before sliding into you.

You throw your head back and grip the couch, bearing yourself down while he throws himself into you. It feels amazing but you still desire some form of intimacy.

You grab his face to kiss you, but he bites and sucks on your lip, leaving it swollen and pained. Locking eyes with him, you implore, "Jimin, slow down."

He slows his pace but deepens his strokes. It still feels too lustful. Running your fingers through his hair, you look at him with soft eyes. This must turn him on, because he fucks you even harder and hides his contorted face in your shoulder, twitching as he cums.

You move your legs around his waist, letting all of him drip inside you. He picks his head up to kiss you on the mouth. His lips are hot and heavy. You kiss him back but you feel bizarrely sad.

When he pulls out of you, you feel his liquids spilling out. It's the same feeling in your chest, like your heart is being squeezed dry. He grabs a tissue and cleans you up as best as he can. You pick your clothes from off the floor and redress.

Jimin pushes his hair back and wipes the sweat from his forehead. You close the distance and hug him, pressing your cheek to his chest. "Do you always have to be so rough?" you ask.

He wraps his arms around you and squeezes lightly. "I'm sorry. You've been on my mind nonstop and I couldn't take it any longer."

"It would be nice if we could be intimate sometimes."

He smooths your hair. "Intimate? I don't know... One of us might catch feelings," he says.

You stand frozen, picking apart his words. Is the sex meaningless to him? Has he no feelings at all?

After a minute of silence, Jimin releases you from the hug and your arms lifelessly drop from his waist. He lifts your chin and pecks your lips. "Get home safely," he says and leaves your studio.

You stand there in shock. You're mature and experienced enough to know that sex doesn't equate feelings, but you thought something had developed between you. It just felt like there was more to it.

On the other hand, tonight's session didn't fit the narrative. The emotional connection was nonexistent during sex. It felt like a misplaced movie scene.

Gathering your belongings, you prepare to leave the studio and call your driver to take you home. When Dongwoo arrives, you chat with him right away.

"Do you think Jimin is the type to use someone for sex?"

Dongwoo furrows his brows. "Is he using you for sex?"

You snicker. "Don't answer my question with a question."

Dongwoo chuckles for what seems the first time ever. "No, he doesn't seem like the type."

You sit back in your seat, thinking deeply. No, Jimin doesn't seem like the type to take advantage of someone, and especially not for sex. Then why did it seem like he dismissed your feelings and left you without considering talking about it? He must have more emotional intelligence than that.

Before you can come close to a conclusion, Dongwoo drops you off in front of your house. You thank him and bid him goodnight.

Once inside your home, you jump into the shower to wash off the negativity that weighs you down. The hot steam relaxes your muscles and takes ten pounds off your shoulders.

You lay in bed that night and replay Jimin's words on loop in your brain. One of us might catch feelings.

You scoff. And what's so wrong with that, anyway?