#be mean to the slug. sorry i really need a win today. this week. god

[inkats]

i really need a win can something turn up inkats please.

[kpopfanfictrash]

No Strings (X)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating:  18+ (explicit sex)

Word Count: 5,524

Summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

“One blonde roast coffee,” you request from the woman behind the counter.

Nodding, she lifts a felt-tipped marker to write your name on the cup. “Paying by phone?”

“Yes,” you say, pulling out your phone app. “Please.”

The woman nods again, adding a flourish to the end. “Pay here.”

You do so, declining the receipt and moving on to the end of the counter. Drumming your fingers against the surface, you wait for Minsun to order. It has been a little over a week since telling Jimin you were over. It has also been over a week, since the last time you two spoke. Well, that is not entirely true; you have seen Jimin since then and you have spoken – but only in the polite, distant tone of strangers.

Every time you are in the same room, you remember what he said to you. Jimin does not care and although it hurts, it at least reinforces the fact that you did the right thing. You will get over Jimin – eventually and once you do, things will return to normal. You just wish that timing was now. Retrieving your coffee and taking a sip, you cannot help but glance at your phone.

Zero messages. No icon blinks from the corner, not even when you open your texts and scroll to the last conversation you had with Jimin. There are the messages from you, asking to meet and before it is a meme Jimin sent, along with, be alone when you watch this, you might snort. You did snort – Jimin always knows exactly how to make you smile. Slowly, you slide your phone back into your pocket.

It is good that you have this time to cool off; you need that badly, as does Jimin. Your conversation probably bruised his ego, he was likely upset when you wanted to end things. That was why he seemed mad, that was why he lashed out. Jimin never gets rejected; you ending things with him was probably the closest he has ever come to it.

“That’s a giant coffee,” Minsun observes, walking forward.

Shrugging, you take a sip. “It’s a cold walk to the office.”

“Which is literally next door.” Minsun empties a sugar packet into her drink, lifting her gaze to yours. “Is everything okay?”

You manage to smile. “What, because I ordered a large?”

She snorts, tossing her empty packet in the trash.  “No. Because you’ve been moping around our apartment for a week now.”

Falling silent, you push open the door. A cold wind wraps around you, making several people by the door shiver. “Sorry,” you apologize, walking outside. Gripping your coffee, you wrap your scarf around your neck. “Minsun,” you sigh. “You know why.”

“I do,” she says, walking beside you. “It’s why I’m asking. The times we’ve hung out with the guys this week – it’s been so awkward.”

You glance sideways. “Do you think anyone noticed?”

Minsun falls silent, footsteps crunching in snow. “I don’t know,” she admits. “It seemed like Namjoon noticed something was off – but I doubt he knew why. None of them do,” she adds, rolling her eyes. “Not even Jin – I told him you swung by in the morning to pick up your purse and he was like, ‘Oh, cool.’”

You laugh, pushing open the front door to work. “That doesn’t surprise me,” you say, stomping snow from your boots. “Guys are blind.”

Minsun nods. “I just want to make sure you’re okay,” she says. Pressing the up button for the elevator, she turns to face you. “I know you ended things because you want to stay friends, but Y/N – you two are barely speaking.”

“I know,” you mutter, stepping onto the lift. Other people enter, forcing you to lower your voice. “But what other choice do I have? At least this way, we’ll move past it. This way, there’s nothing as messy as feelings for us to get over – things are just awkward.”

Minsun shakes her head but does not argue. “I hope that you’re right.”

You face forward, clutching your bag closer to your chest. You hope so, too.

Around 5:00 PM, your laptop dings.

From: Namjoon

Sent: 17:06, Mar 21

Want to get a drink tonight?

You look up, but Namjoon is not at his desk. He must be in a meeting or hiding somewhere in a conference room. You type back.

From: Y/N

Sent: 17:08, Mar 21

Idk. I’m kind of tired. Don’t really want to go out

From: Namjoon

Sent: 17:09, Mar 21

No going out! Just a drink!

From: Y/N

Sent: 17:10, Mar 21

Lol, it’s Friday night Joon – you honestly don’t want to go out?

From: Namjoon

Sent: 17:11, Mar 21

I mean, maybe I’ll go out after. But you’ve been super quiet, and I figured you might want to talk about it

You pause, sitting back. For a moment, you consider telling him everything. Namjoon would understand – he is logical, above all else. He would understand why you had to end things with Jimin and it would be nice to hear agreement, for once. But – no. More than anything, you do not want to think about Jimin tonight. Which is why drinking with Namjoon might be a nice change of pace.

From: Y/N

Sent: 17:12, Mar 21

Yeah, I’m down! Somewhere chill, please

From: Namjoon

Sent: 17:13, Mar 21

Noted

Namjoon returns to his cubicle a half hour later. Setting his laptop down and glancing at you, he unwinds his computer cord. “We still on?” he asks. “The boss left straight from the meeting I was just in, so we can leave whenever.”

You nod. “Let me just finish this email.” 

Ten minutes later, you slam shut your laptop shut. “Done!” you declare, standing up and shrugging your coat on. “Is there anyone else you want to come?” You glance at Katie’s desk.

Namjoon flushes, slightly sheepish. “Nah, we’re going out tomorrow actually. I think Katie is heading to the bar with work people now.”

“Oh?” You grin, sliding your laptop into your bag. “A date? When did that happen?”

Namjoon falls into step alongside you, pulling his hat over his forehead. “After paintball,” he says. “We were texting and I asked her out. She said yes.”

You push the down button, looking at Namjoon. “I’m excited for you, Joon. You’ve liked her for a while, haven’t you?” He nods, and you smile. “So now – really. Why are we actually getting drinks?”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “Please. I’ve known you for too long for you to lie to me. I can tell when you’re down, and right now you’re upset about something.”

The door dings and you step inside, struggling to think of a response. “Maybe I am,” you admit. “But maybe I don’t want to talk about it.  I’ve thought about things too much this week, I just want to relax.”

Namjoon stares at you for a few seconds, then nods. “Fine. If you decide you want to talk later though – I’m here.”

“Thanks,” you say.

It is even colder out now than it was this morning, and you wrap your coat tighter leaving the building. The bar Namjoon picked is close by, crowded but not filled. You grab a table for the two of you, waiting for Namjoon to return with your drinks. He sets down your wine, sliding into his seat and taking a swig of his beer.

“Is it a guy?” Namjoon asks, ignoring the noise of protest you make. “I know! I know I said I wouldn’t, but how will I know if I need to kick anyone’s ass?”

You snort, setting your glass down. “No,” you sigh. “There’s no need for ass kicking. If anything, I’m the one who broke up with him.”

Namjoon seems surprised. “Then why are you upset? Did you do something? Are you feeling guilty?”

Frowning, you toy with your sweater. “No. I know I did the right thing. It was just a situation where I ended things because I had to, not because I wanted to.” You sigh, looking up. “You know?”

Namjoon’s brow furrows. “In theory, yes. In practice – whenever I really wanted to be with someone, I made it work.”

“That’s the thing, though,” you say. “He didn’t want to be with me.”

“He said that?” Namjoon asks, confused.

“What?” 

“You asked him?” Namjoon speaks bluntly, leaning across the table. “He told you he didn’t want you? I mean – he said that to your face?”

You flush, shaking your head. “I could just tell.”

Namjoon groans. “Oh, god. This is like some bad romantic comedy, Y/N. Just tell the guy how you feel. Ask him if he feels the same.”

You glare at him. “You say this like it’s so easy. How long did it take you to tell Katie you liked her?”

“Touché.” Namjoon exhales. “Still. I think that you should tell him.”

You groan, lowering your head to the table. “I thought you said we wouldn’t talk about this.”

When you look up at him, Namjoon stares back. Whatever he sees in your expression must convince him though, because he slowly nods. “Okay – we’ll talk about something else. You see what Mr. Weber wore today?”

You nod, grateful for the change in subject. “The shirt had a metal chain, Namjoon. An actual chain.”

Namjoon laughs, launching into a story about the reaction of some woman in the cafeteria and you lean back in your seat. Smiling, nodding, pretending to listen while the entire time – your thoughts remain elsewhere.

Your thoughts are with Jimin.

“DIE! YOU USELESS, PATHETIC SLUG OF A WORM – DIEEEE!” Seokjin jerks his controller sideways, nearly sending his character off the edge of a cliff.

Namjoon sits on the couch, barely moving while soundly defeating Seokjin. Giant words flash across the screen – YOU WIN, for Namjoon, YOU LOSE, for Seokjin.

Seokjin sinks back on the couch, tossing his controller aside. “This game is rigged,” he complains.

Namjoon starts to laugh. “It’s your game!”

“Still.” Seokjin pouts.

Minsun looks up, waving around the knife she is holding. “If you guys could keep it down, I’m trying to chop here.”

Seokjin looks over. “Sorry, babe,” he says. “Need help?”

“No, no.” Minsun turns to open up his refrigerator. “You two are doing the cleaning after. That’s your contribution for tonight.”

Seokjin shrugs, sinking back down. Whenever Minsun gets bossy, it is best to just agree. He switches the input on the TV, flipping through various channels. “What do you want to watch?” he asks Namjoon.

Namjoon glances down the hall. “Is Jimin home? We were watching Veep last week, we could watch the next episode.”

“Nah.” Seokjin shakes his head. “I think he’s out. Besides,” he adds, voice lowering. “Jimin hasn’t been in the best of moods this week.”

Namjoon looks up, puzzled. “What do you mean by that?”

Seokjin shrugs, finding nothing he wants to watch on TV and switching back to the video game. “I don’t know. I tried to talk to him about it, but he’s pretty messed up. Won’t talk at all. You know what Jimin’s like when he gets in one of his moods.”

Namjoon nods, expression thoughtful. He does know.

Seokjin flips through characters. “I figured I’d give him time to decompress, then bug the shit out of him until he spills.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon mutters, frowning. He is unsure why the situation bugs him so much. Obviously, he cares about Jimin – but it is more than that. It is something else bothering him in the back of his mind. Something about the timing, the situation. Namjoon frowns further.

Neither one of them sees Minsun, frozen behind the counter. She looks up suddenly from her bowl, staring wide-eyed at the boys. “Jimin is upset?” she asks, voice strained.

Seokjin looks over at her. “Yeah,” he says. “Don’t worry about it, though. Jimin will be fine – we’ll force him to talk to us about it next week.”

Minsun places her spoon beside the bowl. “How long has he been like this?”

Namjoon looks up and Seokjin blinks.

“I’m not sure,” Seokjin says. “Sunday? Yeah, Sunday,” he nods. “He went to the store – super weird, he forgot his coat – and afterwards, he just seemed out of it. Walked around the apartment in a daze all week.”

Minsun stares at them both, mouth slightly open as the pieces fall into place. “Oh, fuck.”

“Babe?” Dropping the remote, Seokjin gets up from the couch and enters the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

Rather than respond, Minsun lowers her face to her hands. She starts to laugh, shaking her head between fingers. “Oh my god. They are so fucking stupid.”

Namjoon stands, too. “Who is? Who’s stupid, Minsun?”

“Jimin.” Minsun drops her hands, meeting Namjoon’s gaze. “And Y/N.”

Namjoon freezes mid-stride. “What?”

Minsun exhales, nearly a laugh. “Seokjin. You’re sure it was Sunday Jimin started acting weird?”

“Yeah, Sunday.” Seokjin looks curiously at Minsun. “Why? What’s going on?”

Namjoon seems stuck by the mention of your name. He stares at Minsun, understanding dawning, as well. “Holy fuck – is Jimin the guy Y/N was seeing? The guy she broke things off with?”

“What!” Seokjin gasps, elbow dropping onto from the counter. “Y/N and… Jimin? What? When? For how long?”

Minsun is already moving though, digging through her purse for her phone. “I’m not sure, exactly. They were doing the whole friends with benefits things – Y/N broke it off because she had feelings for Jimin and didn’t want to ruin their friendship.”

Namjoon stares at Minsun. “But... Jimin is depressed as fuck.”

“Because Y/N ended it.” Minsun nods in confirmation, finding her cell. “Which means –"

Seokjin’s eyes widen. “Jimin also likes Y/N.”

“Wow,” Namjoon whistles, shaking his head. “They really are stupid.”

Minsun is already dialing. “I know,” she groans, shaking her head. Someone picks up the phone on the other end. “Hey, idiot.”

Jimin stares into the beer he is nursing. The liquid is amber in color, reminding him of the sheets of your bed. He hates that memory. Wishes he could forget about it, but such a thing is impossible. For the past week, Jimin has been trying to forget. If he could not get rid of his crush in the past five years though, why would this week be any different?

Before, at least there was a chance you could like him. The tentative what if you woke up one morning and decided you loved him back. Jimin drinks from his glass, slamming it down before him. Not now, though. Not now that you have had the opportunity to be with him – and said no.

Sliding his fingers against the table, Jimin almost does not notice when his phone begins to ring. It is on silent mode, having been this way since Sunday. A futile attempt to ignore texts from you which have not come. In the corner of his eye, Jimin sees his screen light up. Moving his fingers over the lock, he hovers for a moment when he sees who it is.

He does not really want to talk to Minsun, but Jimin is curious and so he answers the phone. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, idiot.”

Jimin frowns. “Minsun?” 

“The one and only.” She exhales, unsure how to start. “Look, Jimin – I know.”

He blinks, stomach dropping. “You know… what?” His first thought is that she knows about his feelings for you, but that would be impossible. No one knows – only Jimin.

“I know you’re in love with Y/N.”

Jimin sucks in a breath, the sound loud in his ears. “Wh-what? No, I don’t. You’re crazy,” he says, letting out a hollow laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Oh, please,” Minsun interrupts, impatient. “I know you two were hooking up. I know all about your ‘friends with benefits’ deal,” she adds, making air quotes around the words.

Jimin is floored. “How long?” he gasps, grip tightening around his glass. “Did Y/N tell you?”

“I’ve known since Sunday,” Minsun says. “I figured it out the night she slept over at your place after paintball.”

Jimin’s stomach tightens. “Oh.” 

“Jimin.” Minsun sounds serious. “Why are you all alone in a bar, drinking?”

Jimin slides a finger over the rim of his glass. “I’m a big fan of my own company?”

“Jimin,” Minsun groans. “Do you know what Y/N told me the morning she came home from your place?”

Jimin swallows. He does not want to think about that morning. Does not want to think about the feeling of rolling over, waking up and finding you gone. His hand reaching out for where you once were, his panic as he threw off his covers. Jimin does not want to think about that morning ever again. 

“No,” he says hollowly. “I can imagine, thanks.”

“She said she has feelings for you.”

Jimin pauses. That is not what he thought Minsun would say. “I – what?”

“She has feelings for you, moron. Y/N said she needed to end things with you because she broke her own rules. She thought you didn’t like her and she didn’t want to ruin your friendship.”

“You – you misunderstood,” Jimin says, struggling to comprehend. His head spins, the sounds of the bar too loud behind him. There is no way that you like him. You ended things, you broke things off. Why would you do that if – Jimin slides his head between palms. “What about Sungmin?”

“What about him?” Minsun snorts. “I can promise you, she hasn’t talked to Sungmin at all. They’re barely friends, let alone more than that.”

Jimin’s mind buzzes, still attempting to process. “Y/N… likes me?”

“Yes.”

“But why,” Jimin bursts, sitting up straighter. “Why not just tell me!”

Minsun starts to laugh. “Are you serious? It’s been five fucking years, Jimin! You’ve never said that you liked her – why would she think you did?”

Jimin falls silent. It is true. Minsun is repeating to him the same reasons he did not tell you his feelings for you in the first place – he did not think you would believe them. Did not think you would see him that way, not after his past.

Jimin pushes himself to stand, throwing a twenty down on the counter. It is too much, but he cannot be bothered to wait around for change. “Where is she?” Jimin demands, digging through his pockets for keys.

“At home,” Minsun says. “Alone on a Saturday night, moping while watching the Harry Potter weekend marathon.”

“I’m on my way.”

Jimin hangs up, fingers shaking as he ducks into the cold. You like him. Walking faster, Jimin is practically jogging as he heads towards his car. The wind whips his face, freezing despite his gigantic smile. Elation floods through his veins for the first time in a week.

Elation – and something else. Something foreign. Hope.

You are on your couch, legs tucked underneath you. A glass of wine is perchedo n the end table and old take-out menus litter the ground. Thumbing through which cuisine to order, you know that only take-out can fill this aching hole inside you.

Talking to Namjoon made things worse. Now you are also plagued by doubt, wondering if you should have just told Jimin your feelings. Debating this over and over with yourself, fingers tracing the phone in your lap. It is not too late, you reason. You could call him, invite Jimin over and – you shake your head.

Just thinking about it makes you nauseous because in your mind’s eye, you can see it. You can see Jimin wincing, see him turning away. He would say he does not care, that you two are just friends. You can see his expression on that first night you met, walking out of the club with that girl. He strode right past you, as though you were invisible.

He would do it again, you are sure.

A sudden knock comes at your door. You glance down at the take-out menus in your lap in confusion. You did not order yet – right? Frowning, you move towards the entrance. If that is take-out and you did order, you are losing it. It might be time to sleep, if you ordered a whole meal without recollection.

Throwing your door open, you freeze when you recognize the person on the other side. 

“Jimin?”

He looks, well – crazy. His hair is windswept, scarf looped halfway around his neck and his jacket hanging open. His hands are chapped and, although you look for his gloves, you see none. Jimin steps inside to shut the door behind him. He stands that way for a second, facing away from you. Then, he turns.

There is something hesitant in his gaze, almost unreadable. “Hi,” Jimin manages, glancing around your apartment.

You arch a brow, crossing your arms. “Hi.”

“Why aren’t you out with Sungmin?” he demands.

“I – uh.” You blink. “I’m just not? Do I have to see him every night?”

“No.” Jimin shakes his head. “But tell me the truth, Y/N,” he exhales. Closing his eyes, he waits a moment before opening them. “Did you end things with us because you wanted to date him? Or, was it another reason?”

Your heart pounds, dazed by his question. Your entire body aches being so close to him. So near you could reach out and touch him, if you wanted to. You do want to. Want to feel the familiar press of him against you and so, you keep your arms locked firmly by your sides.

“What other reason is there?” you ask quietly.

“You tell me,” Jimin says, staring at you a second longer. “Did I ever say...” He hesitates. “Did I ever tell you about the night we first met?”

Thrown by this sudden change in direction, you shake your head. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

Jimin’s hand reaches out for you. You stare, almost hypnotic when he touches your wrist. While you watch, his fingertips slide between yours to intertwine. 

“I saw you the moment you walked in the bar,” Jimin says softly.

You look up, unsure why he is now holding your hand. Unsure why he is now looking at you like that – as though he cannot bear to look away. Jimin takes a step closer.

“I know that,” you say. Still confused why he is bringing this up. “You told me you saw me while we were waiting for our drinks.”

Jimin nods, thumb brushing yours. “I know I did,” he admits. “But what I didn’t say was what happened next. When I left you on the dance floor, it was because Namjoon waved me over.”

Your brow furrows, not understanding. “Namjoon?”

Jimin nods. “He saw us talking and knew what I was thinking. Back then,” Jimin hesitates. “I wasn’t in a great place. My girlfriend cheated on me, she really fucked me up and I wasn’t in a place for commitment. Namjoon warned me not to take you home – he was scared if I slept with you and never called you again, Minsun would cut Jin out of her life. I couldn’t do that to my friend,” Jimin explains.

You stare at him wide-eyed, the pieces of that night slowly coming together. “You didn’t go home with me, then – because of Seokjin?” you say.

Jimin nods, his other hand finding yours. “I didn’t want to mess up his relationship,” he says. “I didn’t realize what I felt for you, not until it was too late and once I realized my feelings – well. You only saw me as your friend, then.”

Your heart pounds against your chest; you can hardly dare to believe when Jimin lifts a hand to your hair. Pushing a strand behind your ears, he stares with such intensity it leaves you breathless.

“Well, then,” you say, unsure why your voice is near-breaking. “What do you see me as now?”

“More than that.” Jimin frowns, frustrated. “God, this all sounds so stupid, so inadequate, you know? It seems like nothing to tell you I love you. That doesn’t really get at what I’m trying to say.”

“What are you trying to say?” you ask, dazed by hearing him tell you he loves you.

Jimin’s gaze darkens. “That I want you.”

You blink.

Jimin winces. “I want you more than I have you right now. I want you in my bed, yeah, but not just for sex. I,” he inhales, scrunching his hand in your hair. “I want to take care of you when you’re sick, want you to call me when you need something. Want to watch stupid movies with you, be your date at parties and just... be with you. I love you, Y/N.” 

Your hands rise to cover his, barely able to keep from smiling as you move a step closer. “You love me?” you whisper, staring up at him.

He nods, nose brushing your cheek. “So fucking much,” he murmurs. “But if what you said to me the other day is true – if you really want us over, I’ll understand. I’ll miss you,” Jimin admits, voice wavering. “But... I’ll understand. It’s just, that Minsun said – “

You kiss him. 

Cutting off his words, his worries, his insecurities, you press your lips against his. Jimin groans, hands curling tighter into your hair, slightly off-balance as he pulls you forward. His mouth opens, tongue sweeping forward to claim you. He wants every inch of you – needs it, craves it.

You give it right back, yanking his scarf until it falls to the floor, pushing your hands through his hair as his slide down your body. Your lips move from his mouth to his jaw, tracing a path to his ear. “I love you, too,” you whisper, feeling Jimin freeze against you.

He pulls back to look at you, eyes bright. “You... love me?”

You nod, fingers brushing his. “All of you.”

Jimin exhales, a half-breath before pulling your lips back to his. Jimin backs you against the wall, sliding your hands above your head. He kisses down the skin of your throat, hand wandering while his length grinds into your hips. You gasp, head hitting the wall while his fingers close around your wrists.

Jimin’s hand moves to your thighs, pushing them apart. His fingers slide forward, teasing while your hips buck into his hand. Your lips are at his neck, biting, sucking as he groans out your name. Jimin’s body and his touch are both frantic; followed by his lips, his hands – all of it needy and wanting.

Then, Jimin seems to regain himself slightly, pulling back to rest his palms on either side of your head. “Y/N,” he murmurs, lips trailing your throat. He nips at your shoulder before dragging your shirt aside. Jimin’s fingers replace his mouth, pushing your shirt to your waist.

His lips find your chest. Thumbs grazing your nipples, already peaked beneath your bra, his tongue flicks lace to draw moans from your lips. When his torso presses against yours, you realize he is still wearing a coat.

“No,” you breathe, even as his fingers push down the cup of your bra.

“No?” Jimin smiles, sucking your breast into his mouth.

Your chest rises and falls, shoving material down from his shoulders. “Coat, off. Shirt, off.”

Jimin lifts himself to obey. Shrugging from his coat, he lifts his shirt aside and you groan out loud when his chest is revealed, abdominals exposed. The hard, lean muscles disappear into his jeans and you cannot stop your hand from slipping beneath the band.

“Fuck,” Jimin murmurs when your fingers close over his member. Your thumb slides over the top, forcing Jimin’s elbow to buckle. He moves closer, lips finding yours to press into your mouth. He matches your strokes with his tongue, pushing himself into you once before pulling back.

His hands find his jeans, unbuttoning. You unhook your bra, dropping this onto the ground. Jimin bends to grab you, jeans discarded somewhere on the floor. He hooks both of your knees over his waist and walks the two of you backwards, moving into your room to drop you on your bed.

Jimin stares at your body, a dark glint to his eyes. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly. “Take your jeans off.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you slide a hand down your body and unbutton one by one. Lifting your hips, you shimmy free but leave your underwear on. Leaning back on the bed, you arch your back and slowly spread your legs.

Jimin swears, erection obvious at the front of his boxers. He does not move as he stares, continuing to look. “Show me how you touch yourself,” he says.

Slowly, you slide your underwear down, scooting further back to spread your thighs apart. Dropping a hand between your legs, you trace a slow circle around your clit. Pushing a finger inside you to get it wet, a soft moan escapes, head hitting the back of your bed. Hips pushing upwards, you pretend your finger is him.

When you open your eyes, Jimin has removed his boxers. He stands there, cock erect and his right knee to your mattress. “You look fucking incredible,” he mutters, moving closer. “My turn.”

Jimin does not waste time, dragging your hips forward. You gasp when his finger enters you, tongue flicking your sex as you moan. Jimin does not stop, yanking you forward to begin a relentless rhythm. His finger moves hard, fast, and you make incoherent noises beneath him. Biting your lower lip to keep from screaming.

Jimin licks upwards, meeting your gaze when you arch your hips. He growls, dropping back to your swollen clit and sucking. Tracing circles until you’re writhing beneath him. Then, Jimin pulls back, lips still wet as he strokes himself.

You push yourself up, core throbbing as you sit on your knees. “Sit,” you say, and Jimin obeys. He moves into a sitting position, cock erect between his thighs.

You bend, swirling his cock with your tongue, hands sliding up to grasp the base of his shaft. Jimin groans. When you look up, you see his lips parted. Abs clenched, you smile and lower yourself even further. Taking him in your mouth, you let his cock hit the back of your throat.

Jimin’s hands fist your hair, coaxing a rhythm from you. He thrusts, fucking your mouth when you let him. “Fuck, your mouth,” Jimin hisses. “It’s so fucking good. You suck cock so well. You’re such a good girl, Y/N.”

You moan at his approval, lips still wrapped around his member. Reaching your hand down to touch yourself, you slide fingers over your slickness as Jimin continues to thrust. He is so hard, you suck precum from his tip before pulling away. Running your tongue over your lips and swallowing, Jimin’s eyes darken at the sight. You – knees apart, touching yourself while you swallow his cum.

“Turn around,” he demands. “I want to see you.”

You turn until you are facing the headboard, lowering yourself onto your elbows and lifting your ass in the air. Jimin spreads your cheeks, lowering himself to lick a circle around your clit. His fingers push into you – first one, then two. Spreading you even wider.

“You’ll need more than that, baby,” he murmurs, words sending vibrations against your sex. “If you want to take my cock.”

You inhale, breath catching when he bends you further. His fingers circle your entrance, plunging into you from behind. His lips close around your clit as you moan, pressing backwards, grinding into him while he eats you out. Then, Jimin stops. You feel his cock at your entrance, tip sliding in before pulling back out.

“Jimin,” you curse, pushing your ass backwards. “Please.”

He chuckles, arms wrapping around you while he fills you from behind. He is so deep like this, so large that you bite your lip to keep from moaning. Jimin slides his hand to your front, stroking your sex before he pulls out. Pushing back in, he stretches your walls and makes you groan.

“Baby,” he moans, grip bruising. “You’re so fucking tight.” 

Jimin moves faster, picking up a rhythm which has your elbow dropping to the mattress. He rams into you from behind, hips banging your ass as you groan, overwhelmed by sensations and him. Jimin thrusts a few more times before pulling out. 

“Flip over,” he commands, waiting until you are spread out before him. “I want to see your face when you come.”

He pushes inside you, chest brushing yours as he stops. Staring down at you, his hips still as he slowly drops his head. Jimin kisses you, movements suddenly slow. When his hips move again, it is with purposeful, drawn-out thrusts. Sliding all the way in, then back out. Pushing into you, making you arch your back. Wrapping your legs around him, you let the torture continue.

Jimin’s hand pushes into your hair, the other one between your legs. He continues like this, fingers wet while flicking your clit. You moan, undone by his cock and hands and lips. Everything overstimulated and overwhelming as you cling to him tightly. Giving in to the sensations and losing yourself entirely. Plunging over the edge when you come.

Darkness closes when you moan his name. Brushing, biting at his lips for Jimin to come as well. Jimin moans, breath hitching as his body fills yours. His muscles contract, shuddering while he gives in entirely. His hips slow, movement gentle when he finally pulls out. 

Jimin grins, hair a mess as he rolls off the bed. He returns in record time to clean you up – making you giggle the entire time. Chucking the tissues into the nearby garbage, he collapses on top of you. Kissing first your forehead, then your cheeks, then your lips. Pulling you into him, he entangles his legs with yours.

“I can’t believe we wasted so much time,” he moans, nibbling your ear.

You exhale, spent and satisfied. “We’re together now.” Staring up at him, you are unable to keep the smile from your face. “I fucking dare you to try and leave me.”

Jimin grins, pressing his lips to yours. “No need. I’m not going anywhere,” he says, pulling you into him. “Did I tell you I love you?”

Nodding, you trace a finger over his jawline. “Once or twice. Did I say that I love you?”

“I could hear it a few more times.” Jimin smiles faintly.

“I love you.”

[Master List]

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