JIMIN IS NOT ANNOYING.
JIMIN CAN SING.
JIMIN IS BEAUTIFUL.
JIMIN IS AN ANGEL.
JUST BC SOMEONE SITS IN BETWEEN YOUR SHIP DOES NOT MEAN YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO HATE ON THEM.
JIMIN IS PERFECT AND YOU CANT CALL YOURSELF AN ARMY IF YOU CANT APPRECIATE AND LOVE ALL OF THE MEMBERS.
Summary: Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.
Word Count: 14.2k (give my noveL A CHANCE)
Genre: smut/fluff/a touch of angst; fwb!Jimin
A/N: I really have no excuse for this. It’s just a ton of smutty filth with Park Jimin
You were already more than halfway to Jimin’s house by the time you sent a text to tell him you were on your way, but you knew full well he would already be there. You’d seen him leave practice a few minutes before you, and he hadn’t been with the rest of your friends, so when you got a quick response, you weren’t surprised that he was expecting you.
Entering through the back had become a pastime by now, even though his front door was just as easy for you to get to. It reminded you of the first few times you’d done this, when you’d worried about his parents catching you. But now, in the beginning of your last year of high school, Jimin had already moved out, and you only had to worry about his roommates.
Twisting your key through the lock, you drop your book bag and gym bag onto the floor in the kitchen near his, barely remembering to close the door before you were searching for him. He wasn’t difficult to find, though, considering it was a Friday afternoon and he’d just finished a three-hour practice, he was sitting on the couch, video game controller in hand as he played some combat game you couldn’t care less about. When he spots you walking through the doorway, he grins and tosses the controller onto the floor, leaning back against the couch.
You don’t waste any time in climbing onto his lap, your legs on either side of his waist as you quickly yank off the battered t-shirt he was wearing. Jimin’s hands fall to your hips, and he hums as you run your hands along his toned skin. He was still a little sweaty from practice and you grimace, but it doesn’t stop you from letting your fingers touch all over his chest.