devil's favorite bottom
The bar wasn’t just popular. It was worshiped.
Not for its champagne, not for its music, not even for its velvet-lined walls dripping in gold.
The crowd was already restless before the lights even dimmed. Men with whiskey glasses, women draped in diamonds, mafias in dark suits, college boys with hungry eyes all pressed closer to the stage as the bass began to crawl through the floor, heavy and sinful.
Silver chains dripped over his collarbones, clinking against skin like stolen treasure. Glitter shimmered across his eyelids, dangerous, dazzling, like temptation dressed as a man. His leather shorts clung in ways that left nothing to imagination, the hem riding so high it made even the mafia bosses sit forward in their chairs, lips parted, pupils blown wide.
𝐀 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭. 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫.
𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙤𝙣, 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙪𝙡—𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙂𝙤𝙙 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚.
Gasps broke into screams, the crowd surging, clawing closer.
Fuck, I’ll pay triple—just one touch!
God, he’s unreal—look at his mouth, holy shit—
Touch me, baby, I’ll pay double!
Men and women alike pressed against the barricade, wallets already open, bills ready to fly. But they all knew the rule. No money, no touch. Not his body, not his lips, not even the pole he graced.
Jimin smiled—slow, cruel, the kind of smile that knew it was the reason people sinned on 𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨. He wrapped a hand around the silver pole at the center of the stage, tilting his head like a predator considering prey.
He purred into the mic clipped to his collar, voice low and soaked in smoke.
Park Jimin
If you can’t afford me, shut the fuck up and watch.
His body moved with the music, hips rolling like a spell, thighs wrapping around the pole with indecent grace. He arched his back until the chains on his chest rattled, until sweat slid down his tattoo, until every soul in the room forgot how to breathe.
Hands reached toward the stage rings flashing, bills waving, fingers desperate to touch.
Jimin’s laugh cut through the bass, sharp and sweet.
Park Jimin
You want me? Then pay. You want to touch me? Double. You want to fuck me?
He dragged his crimson lip between his teeth, slow enough to kill.
Park Jimin
Keep dreaming. Even Hell can’t afford that price.
Men cursed. Women screamed. Mafia bosses threw fat stacks of cash at his feet. Even the college boys, red-faced and trembling, scrambled for their wallets.
He took their money with a smirk, tucking bills against his thigh like they were nothing more than tips for breathing in his direction.
One bold man shouted, “Baby, I’d sell my wife for a night with you!”
Jimin slid down the pole, landing in a split that made half the crowd groan. He licked his thumb, smudged his lip gloss, and looked right at the man.
Park Jimin
Sweetheart *purred*
Park Jimin
I don’t do discounts. Sell your wife, sell your soul—I still charge double.
Dark eyes, sharp jawline, and a smirk that wasn’t begging. It was daring. He sat back like he owned the bar, a stack of crisp bills dangling between two fingers. While the rest screamed Jimin’s name like starved worshippers, bo-gum didn’t even flinch. He didn’t chase. He waited. Calm. Confident. Predatory.
And that—that was what caught Jimin’s attention.
The crowd howled as Jimin slid down the pole in one slow, filthy split, sweat dripping down the curve of his tattoo. He ignored the money at his feet. Ignored the trembling hands reaching for him.
With hips swaying like sin, chains rattling across his chest, and glitter burning under the neon, he walked straight toward the man who wasn’t begging. The only one who dared to sit still.
The bar went silent. The air cracked with tension.
Jimin stopped just inches away, tilting his head like a cat toying with prey, lips curling into something dangerous. His voice dropped to a whisper that only bo-gum could taste.
Park Jimin
Finally *purred, eyes raking over him shamelessly*
Park Jimin
a man who doesn’t look desperate. I was starting to get bored.
The crowd strained forward, desperate to hear, but Jimin didn’t care. This wasn’t for them. bo-gum smirked wider, lifting the money toward him.
Jimin didn’t touch it with his hands. Of course not. He leaned in, slow and indecent, crimson lips brushing against the edge of the bills. He closed his mouth around them, pulling the notes free with nothing but his tongue and the sinful curve of his lips.
Screams. Cheers. Tables slammed. Jealous curses spit into the air.
But Jimin oh, Jimin he straightened with the bills between his teeth, licking the edge before sliding them down the strap of his leather shorts. His smirk was a weapon.
He leaned into the mic, letting his voice drip across the crowd like honey and venom.
He mocked, eyes glinting.
Park Jimin
That’s how a man pays. Silent. Confident. No begging. No barking. Just money.
The crowd screamed louder, fighting for his attention.
Jimin laughed, throwing his head back, chains clinking against his chest. Then he bent down again, lips dangerously close to bo-gum’s ear, voice soft, sinful, private.
Park Jimin
Congratulations *whispered*
Park Jimin
you just bought yourself the right to touch me. But only where I allow. And if you get greedy…
His crimson lips brushed a ghost against bo-gum’s jaw
bo-gum’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it sharpened.
Jimin pulled back, arching his back for the stage lights, voice rising for the bar again—mocking, cruel, beautiful.
Park Jimin
Listen carefully, babies. I’m not the whore here. You are. You pay to breathe me. You pay to crave me. You pay to beg me.
He licked his bottom lip, smearing the red.
Park Jimin
And even then you still can’t afford me.
The bar collapsed into chaos.
Men slammed stacks of cash onto the stage. Women screamed his name like prayers. The mafias glared like starving beasts.
He only stood there in front of bo-gum sweat dripping, glitter glowing, chains rattling smirking like the 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹’𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗺, holy in his shamelessness.
Because Park Jimin wasn’t just temptation.
Author
Well, well, well… our shameless Jimin has finally arrived on stage. 🎭✨
Author
Tell me, dear readers—did his entry feel like the beginning of a tragedy, a romance, or pure disaster wrapped in glitter? 👀
Author
Do you sense heartbreak? Obsession? Or just… chaos waiting to explode? 😏🔥
Author
Drop your thoughts below—I’m dying to know if you loved it, hated it, or if you’re just here for the drama like me. 💋
Comments
DΛRLO
a totally unexpected start of a chapter damn authorshii ✨ you are getting better and better ✨🤌🏻🔥
2025-08-27
2
𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲🌼✨
OMG author, I'm here for the drama and the first chapter itself was WOW 😳/Awkward/
2025-08-28
1
🖤Love of Mine🖤
I am here for the drama 🎀🖐🏻
2025-08-28
1