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heavqn · 4 years ago

Text

GONE

PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

(gif not mine)

PART TWO OF ‘LETTERS’

(part one here)

AUTHOR’S NOTE : and the saga continues...tbh this is the most i’ve ever written of a part 2 for something???? usually after posting the first part i lose all motivation. but seeing how much everyone loved the first part has helped and im so thankful to my friends who helped me :)) alsoooo, there is a segment where i described the readers body. i tried to keep it as neutral as possible but i dont think i did that good. just saying : everyones body is beautiful, the description i added just fit best. i try not to describe things when its x reader bc everyones different so im sorry :((

summary : your love for him couldn’t compare to the love he had for her, could it?

word count : 2.9k

warnings : angsty,, sad,, I'm a whore for sad shit I'm sorry. endings not that bad.

The moonlight perfectly accentuated the dried tears on her face from the previous hours of sobbing and silently talking to herself. This had become a pattern. Come home, cry, and then write everything she felt as she tried to calmed down.

She wanted nothing more than to yell at Peter, let it all out. She couldn’t though. Because it wasn’t his fault, she keeps telling herself. So she went with a different approach.

A brown journal laid open on her desk. The letters were horribly written from the shake of her hand and the page was covered in dried wet spots. Looking closely, you could make out only one thing.

Peter’s name that had been crossed out multiple times, a tiny rip in the middle from her marking it too harshly. Beside the journal was the ring that had her and Peter’s name carved into it.

He gave it to her four months ago. Just before she started the letters. If it wasn’t for the ring, she probably wouldn’t have even started the letters. It was just another push into the reoccurring dream of Peter loving her the way she loved him.

It’s funny though. Because unlike a dream, she could experience the pain that shot through her when Peter told her it was Fay. She wished this was all a dream.

So she’d only have to experience the pain once, and never have to have that pain reoccur every time Peter messaged her asking for girl advice. Or whenever Peter invited her over to hang out, and Fay would be there lying on the couch in his hoodie.

She didn’t like pretending. No one liked watching her pretend. MJ had come over almost everyday for a month since she stumbled in on (y/n) crying in the girls locker room during gym.

MJ tried her best to comfort her friend and be there for her. (y/n) appreciated it. She couldn’t go to Peter, because how do you tell the person you’re in love with that they’re the reason you stay up crying your heart out? You couldn’t.

(y/n) laid on her bed. Her head felt like it was going seventy mph. She had a massive headache but couldn’t find it in her to get up and grab medicine for it. That’s when MJ walked in. (y/n) swore she was the one who secretly had some sort of sense, not Peter.

“We’re not gonna do this.” MJ said to her as she pushed her over so she could sit down. “Do what?” (y/n) grumbled. "Sit here and cry your pretty little eyes out while watching the window waiting for him.” MJ pushed (y/n)’s hair behind her face and smiled at her.

“Since when did you become nice?” “Since my bestfriend had her heart broke.” The two burst out into a fit of laughter. “See, you don’t need that boy to be happy. Honestly, I’ve already forgotten his name.” MJ told her.

“Wish I could forget it.” (y/n) sat up and leaned her head onto MJ’s shoulder. “Maybe you should just tell him.” (y/n) rolled her eyes at MJ. “I’m serious. It could help, you know?” MJ explained.

“Yeah, possibly ruining his relationship with Fay whilst simultaneously ruining ours is so helpful.” She crawled over MJ and went to close her journal. “I’m being serious. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You know, whenever someone says that in movies it usually cuts to the worst thing that’s happening.” (y/n) shrugged her shoulders. “Shut up.” MJ threw a pillow at her.

“Do you think he’d believe me?” She asked as she caught the pillow and sat on her desk. “You’re his best friend. Of course he will.” MJ said. “I don’t know. What if he thinks I’m trying to sabotage his relationship?” The pillow fell out of her lap, and before she could catch it, it fell onto the floor.

Similar to how she let Peter slip so easily out of her grasp. Unable to tell him in time that she was the one behind the letters. Maybe, if she caught the pillow in time, it wouldn’t of fallen. Maybe, if she would’ve told Peter sooner, he wouldn’t be with Fay.

“Why would he think that?” “Well, do you remember the time I dated Fl-” MJ interrupted her. “I’m sorry? You, and Flash?” MJ faked a gag. “Yeah, before he became a total douche.”

“Uh-huh, continue please.” MJ urged her, now more interested in the story.

“Well, when we started dating, I guess I distanced myself from Peter? I don’t know. That’s what he told me. But, Peter tried to tell me something and I just shot him down.” MJ’s eyes widened. Something in her sparked and she realized something. (y/n) didn’t realize the sudden change and continued on.

“And I told him he was just jealous I got into a relationship before him and he got all mad and then he-” She stopped speaking when she looked up and saw MJ on her phone, frantically texting someone.

“MJ? You okay?” She asked. “No - I mean yes! I just have to go, uh, help Ned with his homework. I’ll be back!” MJ gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, something she started doing recently, before running out of (y/n)’s room.

(y/n) stood there dumbfounded. What the hell, she thought. The house was silent until the door slammed shut, startling her. She didn’t know why, but the door slamming irked something in her.

She sat down at her desk, opening the journal. She could feel it coming. Every time this happened, it was like a tsunami. Literally, because of all the tears that she shed, and because of how unexpected it was.

It wasn’t until she had finally calmed down, that something ticked her and it all came back. The pure joy in Peter’s eyes as he said Fay’s name, and how easily it rolled off his tongue.

Had he even brought up the letters to Fay? If so, did she take credit for it? Did she claim to have stayed up every night for endless hours, thinking of what things Peter was most insecure about and point it out and describe it as if he was a Greek god basking in the praise of his peers?

No, she didn’t. That’s what shattered (y/n) the most. How if Fay took credit for the letters, then it was too late. Peter would accuse her of trying to ruin his relationship. As much as she wished that wasn’t true, she knew how defensive Peter could get.

He was a darling boy who protected the ones he loved, no matter the limits, so what was stopping him from defending Fay? That was precisely the thing. Nothing was stopping him.

He hadn’t made his feelings for Fay clear, directly. But (y/n) knows he admires, if not loves, the one who was behind the letters. Fay, possibly taking credit for that, could only mean that Fay was the one who got all of Peter’s heart now.

Not (y/n). Peter was slipping away from her and she didn’t even notice. It wasn’t until now, sitting at her desk writing away in her journal, that she realized this did nothing.

The words were nothing but that. Letters combined on a page, forming the words she was to scared to say aloud. The words stopping Peter from leaving her. What were they but meaningless words that had no meaning, if not said out loud by the one writing them?

She stopped writing. The tears kept coming but she wanted nothing more than for them to stop. “Please, stop. Stop crying. You’re being stupid. Stop being such a baby. Please stop crying. Just stop!” She silently yelled at herself, pulling at her hair.

She insulted herself for being such a ‘crybaby’. But how could she not be? The boy she loved the most, the boy she planned on marrying one day, was gone. He was choosing Fay whether he said it or not.

If Flash hadn’t turned out to be such a dick, (y/n) knows she would’ve chosen Flash. She was in love. Her love for Peter couldn’t have competed with the Love she had for Flash.

This wasn’t the case though. This was whether or not Peter’s love for (y/n) could compete with the love he had for Fay. “It can’t. It can’t. She’s so pretty. So nice. I’m just a crybaby, who’s pushy and abrasive.” She kept whispering to herself.

She recalled the time a boy rejected her because she was ‘rude’ and had told someone to shove it up their ass. To be fair, she only said it because Flash was harassing Peter.

Peter. She wanted to hate him. It was impossible though. How do you hate someone who practically resembles a Greek god? (y/n) smiled at the memory of a conversation the two had once.

It was a school night and the two had been up later than they should’ve been, but they were so deep in their conversation. (y/n) had just been rejected by another boy.

“You wanna know what I think?” Peter asked as they laid on his bed, facing each other. “What could that nerd brain of yours be thinking about right now?” She joked. “I think that you’re a goddess. “Peter-“ “No, let me finish.” She groaned as Peter paused, trying to gather his thoughts.

“That dude - no, - that specimen, is a total dick. Your body is beautiful. And so is your face. I love the structure of it and how it compliments your eyes. Don’t even get me started on your body-”

She cut him off, “I think you’ve already started.” He laughed. Her eyes sparkled at the sound of his laugh. Something that always happened, which Peter never failed to notice.

“Your body is like art to me. Every curve and detail perfectly drawn but yet, so imperfect at the same time. I love your thighs especially. Wanna know why?” He asked, as he laid his head on her lap.

“Why?” “Because, you have these cute little marks on them. Though you hate your stretch marks, for some stupid reason, I love them. There’s nothing wrong with them. I even have some. See, loo-” “Peter, I’ve already seen them.” She argued, as he took his shirt off.

“No, touch them. Trace them, do something. Tell me what you think.” He told her as he sat up. She hesitantly touched them, and started tracing them. “They’re cute.” She mumbled.

“If you think they’re cute on me, then why not on yourself?” He inquired. “Because, Peter. We’re different people. I view things differently on you, rather myself. Just like you hate how your nose scrunches up when you get confused, but you love when I do it.” She told him.

“Yeah, but you’re so pretty. How could I hate anything about you?” He smiled at her. “You’re such a nerd.” She pushed him. “Ouch, words hurt.” He teased.

She’d calmed down by now, but the thoughts were still loud in her head. I should just write him another letter, and sign my name. Maybe it’s not too late, She thought.

She checked her phone, noticing she had many missed calls from MJ, Ned, and Peter. She ignored them, not really wanting to talk to any of them right now. Her phone rang as she sat down at her desk.

“My god, leave me alone.” She groaned as she picked up the phone. “Hello?” “(y/n)! You have to come to Peter’s, right n-” She cut off MJ. “I can’t, I’m busy. Maybe another night?”

“No! You don’t understand! It’s important! Please, come now!” Her voice was more hushed now, like she was heard someone coming. "I’m sorry MJ, I have to do something important. Bye.” She hung up the phone and then threw it onto her bed.

She grabbed a piece of plain paper. She doesn’t know why, but she much prefers writing on a blank piece of paper rather lined paper even if her writing ends up slanted without something to stabilize it.

She slowly started writing on the paper, not even caring if her letters were sloppy. The only thing she erased was his name so it was clear of who this letter was about.

Peter Parker,

His last name was written so perfectly, almost as if her hand was meant to write his last name for the rest of her life.

I don’t know why I’m writing this quite frankly.

It’s not like it will change anything. You’re with her,

and I can’t change that. The only thing I can do

is write these letters, and hope that something

comes out of it. Anything. I hope it’s a letter back

telling me how much you hate me so I can just

move on. I hate this so much. At first, I was sad.

So sad, that I cried on the bathroom floor everyday

during chemistry just to avoid seeing you. I think, even

the bathroom floor was getting tired of seeing me like this.

I know I am. This will be the second to last letter I give you.

Hopefully, you don’t hate me after this.

- (y/n)

She folded both of the letters, and put them into a white envelope, sealing it. She wrote Peter’s name bold and center on the front of the envelope. Should I seriously do this, she asked herself.

Yes, if you want to have any kind of relationship with Peter you will, she told herself. “Okay, don’t got to be so pushy.” She mumbled to herself. She got ready and left her house.

She arrived at Peter’s apartment, and knocked on the door. “Come in! Unless you’re a burglar, or the pizza guy who left before I got the chance to pay! That wasn’t my fault!” May called out.

(y/n) silently laughed before walking out. May poked her head out from the living room. “Ahhh! (y/n)! I haven’t seen you in like a month!” She gasped as she got up and hugged her.

“Missed you too May.” (y/n) hugged back. “Peter’s just in his room.” May told her. “Is Fay still here?” She asked. “Oh, Fay. Is that the girl he’s been bringing over?” May questioned.

“Yeah, they’re dating I think.” She said sadly. May noticed her shift in mood and rubbed her arm. “She’s not here. Don’t worry.” “I wasn’t wor-” May cut her off.

“Oh don’t try that with me. I know all about crushes. And you definitely have one.” May teased her. “Okay May. I’m gonna go to Peter’s room now.” (y/n) said awkwardly. May busted out laughing.

“I remember when I was young.” May sighed as she picked up a glass of a wine and took a sip out of it. “Oh crap! The laundry!”

(y/n) went into Peter’s room and saw him lying on his bed, doing something on his phone. “Peter?” He looked up.

“(y/n)!” He got up quickly and hugged her, tightly. Like it was the last time he’d be doing so. Peter always loved hugging her. It felt like hugging a cloud, he’d told her once.

He explained that it was because she smelled like what Peter thought heaven would smell like, and because she was so soft and tender. But she didn’t feel like a cloud this time.

She felt like a rock. Tense and stiff. He didn’t like it. He didn’t pull away though, because this feeling scared him. He was scared that if he let go, she’d disappear.

“Peter, can’t-breathe.” She told him. “Sorry.” He said as his face went red with embarrassment. “It’s okay. I just came to give you this.” She handed him the envelope.

“Ooh, a letter?” He wiggled his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes. This felt oddly familiar to him. The feeling of the letter in his hand, the way his name was written on the front - no, it couldn’t be, he told himself.

“Well, I’m gonna go now.” She slid past him, starting to leave his room. “Wait, you just came to give me this?” He asked. “Yeah-” He cut her off. “No, how’ve you been, no cuddles, are you okay (y/n)?” He asked as he felt her forehead. He glanced down at her hand and the ring was gone. Why?

“What - Yes I’m fine Peter! Why wouldn’t I be?” She pushed him away. “Geez, I was just checking.” He mumbled. “Sorry.” She said, apologetically. “It’s fine. We haven’t hung out in a bit, so we’re bound to be on edge.” He told her.

“Maybe it’d been better if I never came here in the first place.” She mumbled. “Huh?” “Nothing!” She smiled at him.

He was starting to get nervous. First the hug, then the letter and the ring, and now this? It wasn’t right. It wasn’t familiar. It wasn’t (y/n).

“My mom wants me home. I really got to go Peter.” She rushed. “Oh, okay. One more hug?” He held out his arms, making grabby hands at her. She smiled. A real smile. Maybe things are fine, he thought.

They hugged, and Peter held on longer this time. He still felt weird. If something was going on, he wanted to be as close to her as possible for as long as possible.

“Okayyy, bye Peter!” She waved goodbye. He waved softly, before shutting his door. He set the letter on his desk and was about to open it when he noticed something.

The letter he wrote, was gone.

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bigggg thanks to @hmucorpse & @flowery-heart you guys are like the main people i go to for ideas when im struggling :’)

other mentions : @duskholland @annab-nana @gaycinnamonrollgirl @chrisosterfield @tomholland-mcu @justapurrcat @peterbenjiparker @marvelouspeterparker @pensivepeter @pparkersbitch

sorry for tagging you and you didn't want to be! if you want me to stop, please tell me and i will <33

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opaljm · 3 years ago

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scream your panties (m) – pjm

➺ pairing: jimin x female reader

➺ genres/tropes: fluff; humor; smut; minor angst; panhellenic college au ; established relationship ; halloween shenanigans

➺ warning/content tags: 18+; swearing (cuz issa fic by me), extremely inaccurate depictions of Greek life (I used PBP because I have friends from there and it’s the only one I feel safe making fun of); mutually jealous Jimin and Y/N who are in a deeply symbiotic relationship and are somehow the same person, sexualized Toy Story Halloween costumes, Y/N is prone to murderous fits of rage but so is Jimin (he just pretends he isn’t to look more civilized), haunted houses are scary (includes jump scares, scary themed rooms, and also taegiseok n yeonbin in creepy costumes), fighting n misunderstandings (gets scary for a sec but its quick like ripping off a bandage), smut: boob enthusiast Jimin, tons of breast play n nipple play, chest enthusiast Y/N cuz Jimin has nipple piercings 😏, Jimin likes to spank you both inside and outside the bedroom, hand job, unprotected penetrative rough sex (multiple times), Jimin n Y/N get randomly into the feels all the fucking time so if you hate intimacy this fic aint the one for you, copious marking/biting, spit play, panty thief Jimin returns (sorry but this is canon to my Jimins I can’t make him stop 🤡), big dick size king Jimin, creampies/pussy stuffing, blow job, sixty-nine action (yes they blow and eat out each other at the same time), fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, cock warming, showering together

➺ word count: 17.4k

➺ summary: As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin's frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend's delicious self between your legs.

➺ author’s note: Yo sorry for being a hot mess 😭. I had to change my fic idea for this collab last minute (literally on like Oct. 29) and since then it's been a mad dash to get this fic out. I didn't abandon the vampire fic idea, I'm just gonna write it outside a collab with deadlines don't fret! Anyways I hope you really enjoy this fic, it was supposed to be a short lil cute pwp and I made it a super long smutty mammoth fic because I'm obsessed with Jimin 🙄. Btw I amped up the steamy factor and length cuz I'm going on a writing break after Nov. 15 since I’m not really going to have much of free time to write. I’ll still attempt to post once a month but if that doesn’t happen please don’t pressure me about it? I posted like 100k for you guys this year and the year isn’t even over. I hope this tides you over until you get the second half of LOTL. Cuz like, is it a Halloween fic? Sure. But also, do sororities and frats always have random ass costume parties in the middle of the year? Yeah, man. You can read this fic at any time of the year honestly. Please leave some love for this fic if you did like it 💕 feedback is always incredible to receive. The validation I get on each fic I post increases my confidence and allows me to feel secure in continuing to write and post more stories for you guys. I love you a lot and I’ll miss you when I’m on my writing hiatus. These exams are absolutely critical though; I can’t manage both the stress of tumblr and school at the same time for Nov-Jan tbh.

This fic is a part of Jimin’s Sunset Spooktober! Banner made by my darling @knjsnoona & me! It’s just collaboration after collaboration in this household lmaoo 🥰. Beta-read by @jimilter she’s on payroll now! Jimin writes the checks to my lovely bff for all of her help (this is a joke I hope you understand that 😭). I feel like I should credit Ash as a ghost writer. I mean she didn't write this fic but she basically could've with how much I told her and how much she helped. I’m truly blessed to have such lovely and supportive angels as friends 🥺

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It’s hot in your bedroom but you don’t want to push the male who’s got his face buried in your chest off your body.

Stifling a sigh, your left hand caresses his scalp, long fingers threading themselves into the messy overgrown gunmetal gray strands. Jimin slides his palms over your sides, grasping a hold of your tiny waist and pulling you closer to him as you throw a leg over his hips. His hands move north as he brushes them past your ribs and grabs your bare breasts, uncovered since you are mostly nude underneath him and only wearing a scrap of red lace to cover your lower half. He presses your breasts together, bunching the round full globes together before swiping a thumb over the puffy nipples until they start to harden. He finishes the job by enclosing his mouth over one of them and then the other, sucking and nibbling on those stiffening points until they tighten into sensitive, rigid peaks.

It’s not unusual for you to be wrapped around your boyfriend’s body, his slim yet muscular limbs grasping you like a vice, on a Friday afternoon. You don’t have classes on the last day of the week, only a morning shift as a writing tutor at the student center, and Jimin only has his Philosophy discussion on Fridays, led by the course’s TA. The two of you always find your ways back to each other on this day, hence, making up for the lost time over the rest of the week.

Today, you met him for lunch at the Panda Express on campus and then walked back with him to your apartment. Which brings us back to now – Jimin with his shirt off, only wearing the sky blue jeans that make his ass look divine, hovering over your body with his overly long, steel colored bangs falling into his eyes as he sucks on your tits and hums absentmindedly.

The two of you have come to prefer your place over his for moments like these. In freshman year, you were in a triple in the dorms while he had a double with Kim Taehyung, so you two would usually find yourselves fooling around in random empty classrooms in the Physics department. In sophomore year, you lived in your sorority which had much stricter rules than the apartment Jimin had gotten with a couple of his friends. But this year, Jimin is living in his fraternity and you are the one with the apartment which you don’t have to share with anyone. You’ve slept over at the frat before; Beta Tau Sigma doesn’t care if they have girls over, but sometimes you both prefer the privacy here. Jimin and you are usually insatiable; two and a half years together and you’re both still exceeding horny when it comes to each other, and if Jimin’s frat knew how often you two actually were fucking rather than doing anything else, they would never let him live it down as they hurled teasing but impressed compliments his way.

“Jimin?” you murmur, tightening your grip to tilt his head upwards so he can meet your gaze.

Jimin looks at you, heated dark brown eyes under hooded eyelids, his soft silvery hair a rumpled mess clinging to his forehead. “I love you,” he mutters, locking his eyes with yours, pushing his lips out into a puckered pout that eagerly seek yours.

Fuck. He’s so hot.

You move your head towards his and sigh as your lips meet. Jimin slots his lips over yours again and again, their plush pillowiness feeling like heaven against your mouth. He languidly darts his tongue out to press against your lips until they part enough that he can slip it inside. As your tongues twine together, Jimin sucks on yours, his cheeks hollowing out. A moan slips out from you, unbidden as you’re unable to control your urges around this man. One would think that time would make it easier for you, make you less susceptible to the temptation that was Park Jimin, but they would be wrong.

You still make a valiant effort to pull away from him, breaking apart from the kiss. You press your palm against his chest, flush against the Nevermind tattoo crawling up the right side of his torso, to keep him from drawing even closer to you although his grip around your waist keeps you from getting too far.

“Jimin,” you whine trying to engage your boyfriend into conversation.

The male lets his face fall into your chest, banging his forehead lightly against your sternum, “No,” he protests, his straight, dark eyebrows getting pushed together as he furrows his forehead. “Lemme kiss you. I just wanna spend time with you here in your bed until I’m forced to leave and help the Beta Tau Sigma set up for the haunted house. You’ll let me fuck you, won’t you baby?” he needles, “We have all night to talk.”

You scowl, not that he can see it, and push him off of you. Jimin rolls his body around, flopping next to you in bed, immediately wincing when he notices your narrowed eyes. “What is it, Y/N? What’s wrong?” He asks it sweetly and it seems at odds with how his previous sentence caught your ire and made you instantly see red.

“Why do you never want to talk to me?” you demand, crossing your hands over your bare breasts. You irately sweep your long mess of dark hair over your shoulder to let it hang down your back.

You barely got to speak to him this week; when you delivered a bag of hot tofu stew and rice to the study room he had booked, he snapped at you when you hung around, though you were only planning on sticking around long enough to kiss Jimin and force him to put down his books to eat. But this feels different from how Jimin goes radio silent during the weeks when he has a heavy school load filled with studying for exams. Both of you were done with midterms. You wouldn’t have tests again until finals. Jimin even made up his mind to come out and celebrate Halloween with you and his frat, even though he has his Autumn showcase the next evening.

You don’t know if you’re being entirely too sensitive but you don’t like this. It’s hurtful that Jimin says he doesn’t want to talk to you right now—right?

Jimin stares at you, pink mouth wide open as he looks aghast. “I know. I messed up. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have worded it like that, but you know I love talking to you. That’s all we ever do, baby. I text you more out of everyone. I facetime you at all hours of the day. It’s never ever a silent meal when we’re eating together. And I love every bit of it. You know that, right? Y/N, I just. Baby, I miss you. I haven’t seen you all week. I want physical intimacy with you, not just emotional.”

Your frown softens. Fuck, you are being overemotional. He’s right. He’s a great boyfriend. He always tries his best to stay close to you and make your relationship seem special. You were especially craving Jimin’s soft words after so long without (or so it felt, anyways), said in that husky yet sweet toned drawl, fanning over your heated skin as he delivered them with hard kisses from his plush, Bratz doll-esque lips. Your love language was words of affirmation, after all. But in that way, perhaps Jimin needed to slowly ease his way back into talking to you. He did get frighteningly shy. Your sweet loveable boyfriend grew quiet and uncomfortable with people, even those he had known his entire life if he hadn’t seen them for a while. It never took him too long to get back into the flow of his old ways, but he was always a little awkward at the beginning. How had you forgotten that?

You bite your lips as you frown and you let yourself get wrapped in his embrace again, remembering that Jimin craved physical intimacy with you and that that was his love language. For a moment, you allow yourself to enjoy the warmth from his hold, cherishing the way he buries his nose into your crown and tenderly drops light kisses on the top of your head while you attempt to calm your breathing and reign in your emotions. This has nothing to do with him. You’re overreacting.

Striving for a lighthearted tone, you let out a hopefully airy laugh that doesn’t ring too hollow. You brush your fingers along his spine, where you can feel the ring of bones going up his back, softly letting your fingertips tickle his sensitive skin.

“We’ll have sex, I promise. I just need to talk to you about tonight first, before I forget.”

“What’s there to talk about, babe? You got me the costume; I’ll wear it and show up to the Pi Beta Phi manor and we’ll win the thing. And then we go over to my frat to go through the haunted house.”

There were multiple reasons why Jimin walked you home today, but the most important one in your eyes is to pick up his Halloween costume. You have grand aspirations of winning the costume contest at the function your sorority is holding. The winner of the couple event will not only get a month off of required duties at the sorority but also a weekend stay at a fancy hotel room in the city. You are so tired of the mac n cheese lunches they held for philanthropy events. You gain ten pounds, or so it feels, each time. And the date parties? The themes are always so weird and unique that you have to buy a completely new outfit for yourself each time because you can’t reuse anything that was already in your closet. That’s not even the worst of it but you’ve gotten your point across. This sorority is bleeding you dry.

“Ugh, the haunted house,” you groan, burrowing your face into Jimin’s shoulder. His skin is warm and flushed, but he smells amazing and his hugs always give you the instant boost of serotonin you desperately need. Which you now need more than ever. Tonight has to be good for both of you.

Jimin thinks you’re only upset because you hate being scared and bemoans, “Hey! You said that if I let you pick the costumes you would come with me to my Beta Tau’s event too. It’s not Jack and Sally, is it?” His lower lip juts out into a pout that you’re too distracted to notice.

“I thought you guys would throw a Halloween party,” you grumbled.

“We’re doing that too, babe. It’s just half the first floor and all of the second floor we’re converting.”

You suddenly remember the second part of Jimin’s question which makes you laugh lightly, more genuinely this time, before pressing a soft kiss against his throat, “Sorry, ’Min, I didn’t have time to hand make costumes for The Nightmare Before Christmas. Next time, okay? I still think this is good. We could win.”

“What is it?” he asks, sounding full of suspicion. But his attention is wavering again and he’s more focused on groping your ass and pulling on your red lace panties before they snap back softly against your skin.

“You’ll see when you get ready,” you murmur, “But, Jimin,” you hedge.

“Hmm?” He's not paying attention at all. Not when he gets to grip at your luscious hips and squeeze your juicy ass.

“I need you to look very sexy. Pull out all the stops when you’re getting ready, baby.” It’s not that Jimin doesn’t look good when he doesn’t put in effort. He has a casual beauty that is heightened by his effortless style. But you need him to look lethal. Park Jimin when he wants to slay is a whole other kind of demon, one that you are glad is your boyfriend. You would cry if you got to see Jimin looking fine as hell but he wasn’t going home with you.

He bends his neck, nuzzling his face into your chest again, “Sure thing, baby. I won’t forget. Do you need to do my makeup? Should I just ditch helping with the setup?”

You tighten your grip, “Stay with me. Fuck Beta Tau Sigma.”

He chortles, letting out peals of pleasured laughter, “Babe. I wish.” Jimin’s so fucking cute, you wanna pat his head and thus you immediately do so, not even attempting to curb the urge, and then you finger comb back his silver gray locks that you had twisted into a mess earlier.

“No, you don’t need any face makeup, unless you want to. You just need to look hot and be shamelessly confident. Maybe you can channel Seokjin?” you suggest. You heard that Seokjin has a nautical themed costume to wear tonight. If he’s going as a sexy merman that bares all, then Jimin could probably stand to borrow some of his confidence.

Jimin narrows his eyes, looking affronted, tightening his grip on one asscheek before spanking it loudly, “I don’t need to channel Seokjin hyung when I can channel myself, Y/N.”

“Okay, okay,” you easily acquiesce, your own hand moving down to your backside and attempting to rub the reddened flesh. “You’re right, but… remember to do that please.”

“Okay, I don’t get all this remembering business. Y/N, I always look hot,” Jimin tilts his head looking down at you, “What the fuck are you dressing me up as, dude?”

You blink. “Something sexy?”

“Then explain your comment or I’m pushing you off me. You don’t deserve me or my body,” he sasses, already with his hands on your shoulders, prepared to throw you off. “Y/N, you do think I’m the hottest guy you’ve ever seen or been with, right?”

You nervously giggle and lightly scream. How the fuck do you explain that you need Jimin to pull off a very specific look without spoiling the surprise and telling him what it is? “Of course, I think you’re the most attractive man that’s ever lived. Jimin, you are pure aesthetic excellence,” you quickly interject.

“You know how there are several kinds of attractive men? I need you to put on the costume first and let that influence how you do your hair. Like remember when we watched 50 Shades of Grey and you said you were Christian Chim Chim. Don’t fucking do that shit. I need—oh shit, you’re right. I need you to channel yourself. Baby, when you pick your filter for tonight, I need you to be the frattiest, most cocky, and confident fuckboy ever. Give your entire frat a run for their money. Baby, you need to be able to get any guy or girl. That Jimin. The one that bagged me. Be that Jimin.”

“Wow, I didn’t think you were going in that direction,” he laughs, sheepishly, “I came at you too hard. Of course, I know my girlfriend is fucking attracted to me. Sorry, babe, my head isn’t right this week.”

You look up at Jimin, “What’s wrong?” the words aren’t delivered lovingly – no, they’re delivered like a threat; like you’re fully prepared to go find the bitch or asshole who knocked down Jimin’s self esteem and tear them a new one. Nobody gets to hurt your baby like that. Not even you. And if you did do it, accidentally, you would usually wallow in a pool of despair ,begging for Jimin’s forgiveness while at the same time knowing you didn’t deserve it.

And that had only happened once and only because you didn’t know that his hand size was a trigger for him. They’re bigger than yours by a centimeter, though his pinky is about a millimeter or two smaller and you had laughed about how you found it funny that your pinky was longer. But then you cried yourself to sleep when you noticed that Jimin had gone quiet for the rest of the date and didn’t even bother to kiss you goodnight before leaving.

Right now, Jimin snorts, “I’m just being dramatic. Jungkook said I looked like a hot mess this week. And I know that my hair looked like a haystack and my clothes weren’t coordinated, but it’s not like I had time to blow dry my hair or plan outfits or even breathe.”

“Well, Jungkook’s an ugly jock, so what does he know about sexiness?” you scowl, “Stupid fucker with his big, ugly muscles and his meatheaded coconut shaped skull.”

“I have muscles,” Jimin interrupts, rolling the two of you around again until he's caging you under his body. His hands are right by your ears, fingers splayed out and his 13 tattoo looks so starkly black from where it is on his flexed left wrist. The devious male smirks before he subtly rolls his hips into you, hard zipper from the denim pressing against your messy and flushed front.

“Sexy muscles,” you sigh immediately, “Jungkook wishes he looked like you.”

He bites down on his lower lip to hide his smile but it still breaks free, the curve of his lips curling up as it spreads wide to show how happy he is. “Pretty girl,” he mumbles, “I want to destroy you but you’re too sweet.”

At that, your legs immediately surge upwards to cross over his ass, thighs hugging either side of his hips while meeting those shallow rolls of his. You gyrate your own hips until you can get your folds perfectly aligned with his zipper and his cock beneath it, an angry hard length that’s desperate to break free.

Jimin inhales loudly, a sharp sound that makes your skin breakout with goosebumps even with your warm skin pressed against his hot flushed one. You’re hyper aware of his every move and sound. When he moves his hands over your ass-cheeks, palming them, his dexterous fingers are restless as they seek to make you whimper and keen before he squeezes your ass, pushing you up to draw your hips to him until your pelvis is flush against his. He grasps you so tightly that there’s barely a hairsbreadth of space in between the two of you. Jimin loves going commando and his cock head breaches the waistband of his jeans, the tip stabbing you in the belly button because of its monstrous length.

He’s looking down at you with his eyelids hooded. His blackened eyes are dark from desire, the pupils so blown out you can barely make out the brown irises that edge them. The heat terrifies you but also makes you yearn for more, and you haphazardly move your face in the direction of his, almost missing his mouth as you sloppily join lips together. Your arms go up, twining around his neck, both your hands have their fingers buried in his gunmetal colored locks, palms supporting and cradling the back of his head lovingly.

His jaw almost crashes into your chin as he vigorously leans into the kiss, greedily inhaling through his nose, reluctant to pull apart from your mouth as he keeps swiping his lips over yours, sucking at your plump lower lip and nibbling at your cupid’s bow, before he eases you into opening your mouth again. All the while he’s got a hold on your ass, using it to further push you into him instead of crashing down on you, suffocating you with his heavy weight and pressing you into the mattress. The act is thoughtful, though born out of desperation, and your fronts collide with each other, your breasts clinging to his chest as your hardened nipples brush against his metal adorned ones. You hiss when you feel the round ends of his piercings drag against your soft skin, dimpling into them when you’re pushed even tighter against Jimin.

One of Jimin’s hands wander from your ass to clench your thigh, gripping your smooth, supple flesh as his fingers, with the nails slightly grown out since he had forgotten to cut them this week, dig into your skin while he pulls your legs apart and bucks against you. It’s not hard enough to truly hurt but his fingernails do leave temporary red crescent indentations and make you whimper from the tiny bit of pain.

Your tongue, meanwhile, is still roving around Jimin’s mouth and brushes over his reddened swollen lips, and you can taste the mint from the Listerine strip he had dissolved on his tongue after lunch, as well as the peach flavored lip balm he had swiped from your book bag. After a particularly hard nip from Jimin’s teeth, you break apart from his lips to let out an embarrassingly loud wanton moan. He doesn’t let a single second go to waste as he drags his lips along your jaw, nibbling along the way as he moves lower in the direction of your throat. Once there, he bites roughly at the sensitive skin above the hollow of your neck, sucking on it harshly until it leaves a blossoming mark of reds and violets. As he darts his tongue out to soothe the aching flesh, he sneakily dips it into the hollow of your neck and then your collarbones as well, messily licking up the flushed expanse of your skin.

Jimin soon finds his way back to your cherished breasts that he loves so ardently. As he wraps his mouth around a still angrily reddened and tender nipple, you make your hand sneak in between the two of your abdomens, not playing the role of an idle participant. Your hand grips at the front of his pants, holding his cock against your palm as your thumb rubs at its swollen head. You stop your movement over his dick to turn your attention to undoing his button and Jimin growls out in frustration, biting down on your soft underboob, leaving a half circle of teeth marks.

“Chill, baby,” you soothe him, and as soon as you free his cock from its confines, your hand tightly grasps the member to stroke it.

The tight, suctioning grip of your fingers and palm around his heated shaft makes him sigh lewdly in relief as his eyes flutter closed in ecstasy, his long dark eyelashes fanning the apples of his cheeks. He slumps against you, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours as one of his dampened locks of hair falls over his left eye. His nose brushes against yours, and if you wanted, you could place gentle open mouthed kisses on his slightly parted lips, but you ignore them to focus on his cock, while Jimin turns his attention to wetly press his mouth against your cheek and then your jaw.

His moans go up a pitch, filling your ears with his musical sounds of pleasure. Biting your bottom lip, your teeth sinking into it as you press your forehead against Jimin’s even harder, you switch up your form and go to fondle his balls with your nimble fingers. As you tug on them, Jimin lets out an anguished sound that's a cross between agony and elation.

“Y/N, don’t. Don’t tease me. Please?” he begs, “I haven’t had time to get off all week. Baby, please. I’m gonna blow my load. Let me fuck you, beautiful.”

You quit teasing him and instead, your hands got to his waistband on either side, fully determined to shove his pants down his thighs. You don’t even need them down fully, just enough so that Jimin could fuck you without any complications.

He backs up from you and you sigh in discontentment the second Jimin’s flushed peaches n’ cream skin is no longer clinging to yours as the male hops off your bed to tear his jeans fully off his legs. He struggles a little, jumping lightly as the tight material clings to his sweaty thighs and you almost swoon when you see his ass jiggle. What was that thing Doja Cat said? Oh yes, “if you could see it from the front wait till you can see it from the back.” And you can definitely see Jimin’s from the front while also confirming that yes, the backside view is even more mouthwatering.

The pants successfully taken off and thrown to a far corner of the room, Jimin immediately hurls his whole body onto the bed, catching himself with those toned arms whose biceps have started to look shockingly large in the past couple of months and made you demand Jimin carry you everywhere around because he was definitely strong enough to. The thought makes you smile and you immediately smack a kiss against Jimin’s lips because he always carried you whenever you asked.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers against your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours. His thick thighs are bracketing yours as Jimin hovers above your lap, his cock bobbing against your pelvis and its head getting caught onto your lace underwear as it soaks it with precum. As he pulls your panties off, he asks, “Can I keep these? I’ll return them to you later. Hand washed and folded.”

You snicker, “Sicko,” teasing him, but then you press your lips against his before they can droop down into a frown. “Yeah, go ahead, baby. Thanks for remembering that they don’t go into the washer.”

And then you and Jimin are finally getting to the main event. Bare as always, because while you had been on the pill since you were fifteen, Jimin and you hadn’t started having condomless sex until the third month of dating. But once you started, you never went back. Your clit doesn’t need much to get it going and you’re already gushing like a broken faucet so Jimin thrusts his cock into you without much pomp or circumstance. As always, you gasp at the intrusion. Not only does your boyfriend have a sizable length, but he’s also girthy as hell and whenever he first fills you up, he takes your breath away.

According to Jimin, it’s because you don’t work out and you’re possibly asthmatic. At that you always smack the back side of his head and tell him no, it’s grossly romantic that he can take your breath away with his fine ass dick game, and your lung capacity is fine for someone who wasn’t in the church choir for twelve years. Yes, your boyfriend is a former church boy. If only Father Thomas could see how low he had fallen. But compliments about Jimin’s dick always makes the cocky, pun intended, jerk smirk like a self-satisfied Cheshire cat and giggle adorably. He is a stunning contradiction of a man. Sometimes you want to suffocate him with your thighs, other times with a pillow.

He shallowly thrusts in you once, twice before he unexpectedly takes almost his entire dick out of your folds before slamming back into you so vigorously that it makes your thighs quiver, wrapped as they are around his waist. He’s so deep in you that you can feel the clean shaven base of his cock pressed against your mons. From there on it’s a frantic joining of the two of your bodies as Jimin furiously pounds into you, letting out all of his frustrations from the past week onto your body in the form of turbulent love making. You hold on for dear life, clutching onto his broad shoulders as your mouth slides against Jimin’s ear, softly whispering how much you love him and how you’ll always be there for him and how there’s no one else in the world more perfectly suited for you than your beloved boyfriend.

When he finally cums into you, a messy and molten flow of whiteness that paints your insides and then leaks out from the overflow, proof that your poor darling truly didn’t have a moment recently to let off some steam, the male wearily drags his body away from yours so he can return with a damp cloth to clean you up between your legs. As you drowsily look up at him and make grabby hands, he gently slaps them away, before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and brushing back your hair, tucking in a lock behind your ear.

“I need to go, baby,” he bemoans, “But I’ll see you tonight, okay? I’m setting an alarm on your phone to wake you up in an hour so you don’t oversleep and then have to rush to get ready.”

“Sweet baby,” you murmur, locking your arms around his neck and keeping him in place.

“Considerate baby,” Jimin argues, tenderly moving his hands up to encircle your wrists and pull your arms away from him so he’s no longer trapped in your hold. “I love you, Y/N.”

“Love you,” you parrot drowsily, your eyes slowly falling shut as Jimin walks around your room to gather his clothes and then get ready to leave. He remembers to grab the shopping bag from Nordstrom you stuffed his costume in, not that you would ever shop there to buy a one time Halloween costume. It’s more likely that you reused the bag. He squints in confusion when all he sees is a mess of brightly colored fabric within it but he just shrugs, too tired from the sex to work up enough brain power to guess what his costume is. He then heads out the door, not forgetting to lock it behind him.

When you wake up to your annoying ass alarm an hour later—now why the fuck did Jimin use the quacking ducks preset as the ringtone? You feel boneless yet still exhausted. You tiredly drag yourself into the shower to get the smell of sex off your body and wash your hair, though it’s going to be hidden under a wig, just so you can feel squeaky clean before you put on your costume.

You and Jimin are dressing up as Ken and Barbie from Toy Story 3, and in your opinion the costumes don’t look half bad. You were running late with the costume planning in between everything you had on your plate this month but a successful run at the thrift store has given you plenty to work with. You ended up with explosively colored outfits for both of you, although they were more loosely inspired than exact replicas. After all, this is Greek life, you have to amp up the sex appeal for both of your costumes.

For yourself, this means that instead of wearing Barbie’s electric blue jumpsuit, you are wearing a bright turquoise bodysuit with a deep plunging neckline that divides your bust in two and goes all the way to your midriff, fortunately keeping your navel concealed even as it dips dangerously low. The pink belt that goes around Barbie’s waist is instead a hot pink belted choker around your neck but you are rocking the green, white, pink, and blue 80s inspired leg warmers she was wearing as well as patent leather stiletto pumps in the same pink as your collar. Your look is finished off with a wild blue smokey eye and iridescent pale pink lips, and after you are done with your makeup, you struggle to make your synthetic blond wig not look completely awful on your head.

As you leave for Pi Beta Phi, you grab your purse, keys, and phone but a quick step outside reveals that the weather has gone unexpectedly chilly, making you rush back to the apartment and grab the first piece of outerwear you see – which happens to be Jimin’s oversized light colored denim jacket he left in your apartment two weeks ago.

It’s probably for the best that you’re wearing the jacket, you think to yourself as you wobbly make your way across the hilly sidewalks that lead to Greek row in your stiletto heels. Your entire ass is out in the leotard-esque bodysuit and had you not been wearing a coat, the boys walking behind you surely would’ve gotten quite the show all the way uphill.

At the house, your sisters are busily running around making sure everything is perfect and ready for the party. They have made Pi Phi manor look great, although it leans towards the glitzy and glam side of decorations rather than the cute and spooky side. Black and orange is prominent throughout the entire house however, with the grand staircase railing done up with black poofy garlands and glittery orange streamers. You sign yourself and Jimin for the costume contest and then grab a red solo cup of apple cider – non-alcoholic since sororities aren't allowed to serve substances on their grounds, thanks to a decidedly sexist rule that never gets changed no matter how many elections pass – before heading back outside to watch the costumed guests walk up.

Your sisters and their guests are hanging around the cute little games that were set up on the grass. There’s a beanbag toss where the bags are all white and decorated with the faces of various mischievous ghosts as well as a cider bottle toss. You know that your boyfriend will get excited by the pumpkin smash station so you pointedly walk far away from it to the other side of the lawn where you see a couple of your friends surrounding the giant tin containers that have been set up for apple bobbing. Jimin’s fraternity brothers Seokjin and Namjoon are on their knees, since the basins are too low for their tall statures, while Namjoon’s girlfriend cheers for them as Jungkook simultaneously jeers them on.

Seokjin is dressed in a sailor costume that leaves little to the imagination. He has a peaked captain’s cap placed jauntily on his dark brown hair while his slutty outfit consists of white suspenders strapped onto navy skin clinging short shorts. A white and navy striped sailor collar hangs over his Pacific Ocean wide shoulders that ties in the front with the two floppy end pieces bouncing against his pecs from any sudden movements. Apparently, you were mistaken when you had thought that his nautical nod for the night meant that he would be a sexy merman. Seokjin seems to prefer a slutty sailor. His hands are clasped behind his back as he bends down to bite down on an apple.

Namjoon on the other hand is fully prepared for the costume contest in a TV accurate depiction of Khal Drogo. You don’t doubt for a second that it was his girlfriend’s idea as the brown girl is dressed as Daenerys Targaryen and looks picture perfect as the mother of dragons with her freshly bleached hair. She keeps rubbing her hands over Namjoon’s bare shoulders and back as the male bobs for his own apple, all while keeping the lookout for Jungkook with narrowed eyes since the male seems dead set on shoving one of his hyungs’ heads underwater.

Just as Jungkook nudges Seokjin into the steel bucket of water with his knee, you hear someone shout your name. You look towards the sidewalk where Jimin’s walking up, looking like the perfect Ken from Toy Story 3 and you immediately dart away from your friends to jump into his arms.

“Jimin,” you hum, kissing his cheek as your arms tighten around his neck. The male strengthens the hold he has on your thighs, holding you more securely against him as he walks the two of you back to the apple bobbing crew.

“Y/N, what is your costume?” he asks while perplexedly scrunching his slightly pinkened face up, flushed from the biting cold air of the autumn night, as he easily sets you down and looks at the denim jacket swallowing your frame and the blonde wig that seems strangely out of place, “Now I’m even less sure of who I’m meant to be.”

You stare at Jimin. He’s wearing the brightly colored abstract print shirt completely open, letting you stare at his sunkissed rock hard abdominal muscles as well as the platinum bars that decorated his pecs. You sneakily stretch your hand forward so that you can possessively press your palm against his Nevermind tattoo and he snorts, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and squeezing you close to him. Your eyes make their way from his face to his neck where he haphazardly tied the blue bandana you got for him, the shade matching the exact color of your bodysuit. You untie it and redo it for him in a perfect Ascot knot.

“You’re Ken from Toy Story 3,” you explain, “It was hard finding the right shirt though,” you pout cutely at him.

Jimin tucks his hands into the small pockets of the light blue shorts he is wearing, cuffed to be even shorter. You forgot to account for how bootylicious Jimin is or how thick his thighs are because the cloth is tighter than you anticipated, clinging to his lower half like a second skin. You frown, biting your lip, no one better stare at his ass, suddenly possessed by jealousy. This peach is for your viewing pleasure only.

“Barbie doesn’t dress like that,” Jimin nods at his jacket, clearly indicating that he wants you to take it off so he can see what you’ve got on underneath.

“I was cold,” you defend yourself, but you slip off the outerwear and give it to the male to hold onto.

Jimin narrows his eyes as he walks around you to get the full 360° view, taking his chance to smack your ass lightly when he’s behind you. “You can put the coat back on if you’re cold,” he says nicely, sounding chivalrous though you know it’s more likely because he is just as possessive of your ass as you are of his, and both of your cheeks are practically hanging out due to the high cut of the leotard.

“Nice costume, hyung,” Jungkook nods in Jimin’s direction, handing him off an apple he clearly swiped from the game.

“Thanks,” Jimin snorts, putting the apple into your pocket instead of having it rest against his warm thighs in his shorts’ pockets. “What the hell are you supposed to be?”

Jungkook is shirtless and wearing a pair of crimson colored hot pants. You don’t have a damn clue what he is meant to be either. “The devil.”

“Where are your horns,” you scoff, crossing your arms as you narrow your eyes at him, very visibly and judgmentally looking him up and down, unimpressed by his lack of effort.

At that Jungkook’s eyes widen as he frantically pats the top of his curly black locks, “Shit, Sooyeon is gonna kill me.” And with that the male disappears into the fray, heading back into the sorority house to find the headpiece to his costume.

Jimin smiles, rocking back and forth on his feet, “I saw a jar of candy corn. If I guess the amount in it correctly or get the closest to it, I get to keep the jar.”

“Jimin, you hate candy corn,” you complain as you take his hand and allow him to pull you through the party so that you guys can walk around and see all the attractions.

“I could donate it. Or,” your boyfriend pauses, lower lip getting bitten as his brows become furrowed, “Halloween’s actually on Sunday. I could give it to the trick or treaters.”

“Children come by to the frat to get candy?!” you shriek, aghast at the thought. Those poor kids, getting scarred for life. The thought of them witnessing the shenanigans that Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook get up to has you distressed.

“Actually, we have a little event we do at the local elementary school. We play games. They show a PG-rated spooky movie in the auditorium and there’s little goodie bags we made earlier this week with individually wrapped candy and ghost and pumpkin stickers,” Jimin rambles, his cheeks going up and his eyes getting all squinty as he excitedly explains to you.

A soft smile overtakes your face as well, “That’s really sweet, Jimin, but what if you don’t end up doing anything with the candy corn because you forget? Wish it were jelly beans. Or even gummy worms.”

“I would do so well, though,” he grumbles, running a veiny hand through his silver locks, pushing the strands back and off of his forehead, “I’d win.”

“I know you would. You’re really good at estimating, but since we both know you’d win... Do we really need a 6 pound jar of waxy corn syrup flavored junk?”

“Disgusting,” mutters Jimin, and then he gently swings your attached arms back and forth as you both go deeper into the fray.

There’s a Quidditch themed butterbeer pong game that you’re pretty sure has been illegally set up, that you and Jimin spend most of your time at, drinking the disgusting butterscotch flavored soda – when you’re not at the snacks table eating the Southern bbq your sorority had catered, as well as all the sickeningly sweet seasonally appropriate desserts your sisters had either baked or bought.

Slightly sluggish from your full tummies, you guys finally go up to the cute little section inside the front entrance to the house where the formerly giant open space has been turned into a little stage with seats for the audience wishing to watch the costume party. Your Pi Beta Phi president, Sariya, is waving her little bedazzled orange and purple gavel like she thinks she’s a judge requesting order in the courtroom. You and Jimin speed walk your ways to getting seats in the far back, where you can make a quick escape if necessary.

You guys make it through several of the costumes, the highlights being Jisoo, Lisa, Jennie, and Rosé being dressed up as the teletubbies; Namjoon and his girlfriend providing steep competition as a Dothraki and Daenerys although you don’t think they’re going to win since pretty much everyone hated the last season of “Game of Thrones;” and several groups and couples embarrassingly dressing like characters from the ever popular Squid Game which is 2021’s version of how literally every couple dressed like Harley Quinn and the Joker from “Suicide Squad” in 2016. Then, it’s finally time for you and Jimin to hit the stage. You pull off the denim jacket and put it on a chair off to the side of the stage before you rush to catch up to your boyfriend and walk on stage with him hand in hand.

Your sorority’s chapter president announces that the two of you are dressed up as Barbara “Barbie” Roberts and Kenneth Carson as the two of you spin around and do little twirls to let everyone see your costumes from all angles. This is met with a second of split silence since no one knows the iconic Mattel couple’s full names but then she continues to tack on, “Barbie and Ken from Toy Story 3!” At that the audience is wracked with cheers since the third movie has always been the fan favorite out of the franchise. Though it could have easily been just as likely that they were screaming at how much skin you and Jimin were both revealing. The two of you skip off the stage feeling pretty secure about your victory since the cheers for you two were the loudest they’ve been all night.

“I think it helps that you have such nice muscles and proportions, you look like the perfect male,” you smirk as you feel your way up Jimin’s chest, smoothing your palm over his abs and flicking one of his nipples. Your/Jimin’s jacket is hanging in the crook of your other arm, you’re reluctant to put it back on until after your victory lap from being announced as the winners.

Jimin immediately grabs you by the wrist after the nip flick, “Don’t do that,” he reprimands gently and then he pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder and trapping your arms under his embrace so your sly hands can’t feel him up some more. He has the two of you facing the stage as Jungkook and his girlfriend Sooyeon take the stage. Jungkook’s in the aforementioned bright red booty shorts but has somehow managed to find his devil horns and is using a red silicone spatula as a pitchfork. His girlfriend is dressed in a white lace babydoll nightie from Victoria’s secret and has a fuzzy white halo on, though her wings are nowhere to be seen.

“Who would vote for that,” scoffs Seokjin, materializing next to you two from out of nowhere, making Jimin let out a surprised shriek that he attempts to conceal by turning it into a deep grunt. “He stole that spatula from our kitchen.”

Yeah, all of you are judging their costumes hard. It’s easily the outfits where the least amount of effort was made. Every single person dressed as a Squid Game character looks better than them. Unlike you and Seokjin, who are embroiled in a heavy discussion of Halloween costumes, Jimin is distracted as he contemplates how to get snacks and get back to you before the announcement is made. When his perusal of the space makes his eyes catch on two gentlemen looking you up and down, their gazes trapped to your chest, he immediately makes you put the jacket back on. You smile at him thanking him, because God, there’s nothing worse than creepy unwanted attention. Like, why can’t men ever let you be a baddie in peace?

When the winner gets announced ten minutes later as Jungkook and Sooyeon, you start screeching and attempt to run up to the stage to fight the judges. Jimin, knowing what would happen if you lost, grabs a hold of you and hugs you to his chest as you kick and squirm. When you break a hold of Jimin’s grasp to lodge the apple from Jungkook that had remained in your jacket pocket this entire time at the aforementioned male, Jimin grabs onto you again, tightening his arms around you and locking you against him even harder. Beside you two, Namjoon is similarly enraged, having found the group with his girlfriend after the announcements were made. He says it screams rigged since Sooyeon is the chapter vice president, and his girlfriend lets him rant to her though it’s clear from the way she’s undressing his already half naked body with her eyes, she’s not listening to a word he’s saying.

As you glare at Jungkook, giving him a stink eye from where he’s accepting the dumb little trophy on stage, Jimin takes the chance to hike you up over his shoulder as he carries you away from the sorority. He keeps dragging your jacket down to cover your cute butt from where it is beside his head, not only because it distracts him while he’s walking but also because he doesn’t want any other perverts looking at it. Jimin is the only pervert that’s allowed to openly fawn over you.

You let him carry you this way halfway down the street before you start squirming and tell him you can walk by yourself. The male hesitantly lowers you beside him, watching you with narrowed eyes as you stalk forward, growling under your breath about stupid nepotism and how you could never hold a more important role at your sorority because you weren’t a legacy Pi Phi, wishing you had a dozen more apples you could aim at Jungkook and Sooyeon’s heads.

“Hey,” Jimin protests as he runs ahead to catch up to you, “Community outreach chair is very important too, Y/N. Don’t undersell yourself just because Sooyeon got all her friends to vote for her.”

“It’s not fair, Jimin—” you cut yourself off, clearly holding back the meaner things you wanted to say. Instead, you change the subject, “Are we really going to the haunted house, Jimin? Last year you abandoned me in a corn maze.”

“I didn’t abandon you,” Jimin argues immediately, still disagreeing with you a year later, his brown eyes glinting as he rolls them at you, “You got lost… in a maze… because it’s a maze. They’re designed that way.”

“You let go of my hand,” you pout, your lower lip quivering, the pale sparkly lipstick making it look like your mouth is covered in fairy dust.“You left me. I still have nightmares. I found a random ass crop circle. I was literally seconds away from being abducted by aliens,” You declare dramatically before then crossing your arms, frowning deeply though you don’t change paths and continue to walk in the direction of his fraternity.

“I won’t do that this time, Y/N, I promise. And this is just a basic frat run haunted house. It won't be anything like Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios. Hobi hyung and Yoongi hyung got dragged into playing the role of the scarers. Hobi hyung is dressed as Edward Scissorhands but honestly, do you really think he is the type of person who is good at scaring others?” Jimin has to admit he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from snorting the second you mentioned the crop circle and aliens. You are literally the most paranoid person he knows. Even worse than Hobi hyung although he knows you’ll disagree.

You furrow your brows, they got the resident scaredy cat Jung Hoseok to participate in the haunted house? Hoseok’s fear tolerance is much lower than yours. Last year, you and he ended up alone in Jimin’s apartment while Jimin went downstairs to pick up the pizza delivery and Hoseok ended up screaming his head off when the two of you saw a giant spider on the ceiling. He demanded that as his junior, you kill the creature – which you tried, but it only resulted in failure. After all, Jimin is the one that kills bugs in your relationship. When Jimin came back into the apartment, half of it was burned down from the two of your attempts. Well… not really, but you are exaggerating to make a point.

“Come on, Y/N, one quick run through the house and then we can go to my room on the next floor. I bought you snacks and we can watch Nightmare Before Christmas together,” he suggests biting down on his lip.

“Fine,” you whine, stomping with one of your pink leather encased feet, “But this time, no letting go of me!” And with that you speedily shuffle into Jimin’s arms and make him awkwardly walk with you the rest of the way since it felt like you two were practically conjoined with how close you remain to him the entire time.

“It’s going to be fun, Y/N,” Jimin murmurs as he takes out the tickets he got for you two earlier in the evening and hands them off to Taehyung who is manning the entrance as the clown from It. He has a face full of white makeup on and had even drawn on Pennywise’s terrifying red smile with the crimson paint running through his cheeks to cut right across his eyes and go into his forehead in two curvy lines from the end of his smile. The male had teased his blond hair into the shape of the dancing clown’s iconic hair before spraying with temporary orange hair chalk.

“For you,” you grumble, pointedly stepping around Jimin to his other side to avoid Taehyung and his unnerving costume, “But as long as you play the role of my dashing protective knight in shining armor, I shall try to persist.”

Beta Tau Sigma is the first male fraternity that was founded in your university. Though their massive mansion gets major renovations every five to ten years, the Victorian structure was built in the 1800s. So when the boys convert it into a spooky haunt, it is successfully terrifying.

From the moment you step in, fog clouds the interior, making you clamber to Jimin’s side, pressing into him when you can’t see more than five feet ahead of you clearly. To your utter dismay, the frat’s brothers have taken advantage of the location’s history and how it houses so many young individuals and made that the central theme for night. It is designed like a cross between an asylum and a school for troubled minds and Yoongi leaps out scaring the living shit out of you three minutes into your traipse through the first floor, dressed up as Hannibal Lector in his bright orange prison garb and tiger-esque hockey mask.

Jimin is, of course, unfazed. He stares at Yoongi with a wry lopsided smirk gracing his lips before striking a conversation with his hyung. You try to justify your reaction, and Jimin’s lack thereof, by convincing yourself that your boyfriend didn’t react because he already saw Yoongi today in his costume and you hadn’t, so your jump, followed by the screech that had you ducking your head into Jimin’s chest, was a reasonable reaction.

“Do you think I would be less scared if I closed my eyes and had you blindly direct me through this place?” you ask, seriously considering it, quickly flapping your shimmery blue lids shut.

“Don’t do that, Y/N, it’ll make the music seem even louder to you,” Jimin warns, as he gently pushes you forward so that the two of you can now make it up the stairs to the second floor.

Your neck hairs stand at his words as goosebumps take over your entire body. Now that Jimin has mentioned the music, you can hear the eerie Tethered remix of “I Got 5 On It” as it finishes off and is replaced with a creepy instrumental remix of Melanie Martinez’s “Carousel” as though the playlist is blasting in your ears, attacking your eardrums. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But, Jimin! I hate this,” you cry out, sharply snapping your eyes open, before you gingerly make your way up the stairs.

Each step is covered with fake cobwebs and as you move your legs the giant spider and snake decorations on the banisters and railings start to move, activated by motion sensors and making weird broken noises. It’s definitely not the scariest part of this entire thing but you flinch every time a fuzzy pincer or a plastic reptilian tail brushes against you and you find yourself dashing through the rest of the stairs though Jimin hurriedly calls out for you to wait for him.

At the landing for the next floor, you wait for your boyfriend and when he finally slings an arm around your shoulders, the two of you take off again. This floor has bedrooms, though, and some of the brothers that live on it have given up their spaces to be used as miniature themed scare rooms, though not every door is open and available for the public to walk into. You and Jimin make your way through one of them that has been set up to look like a medical operating room as well as another set up like a bedroom with screaming frat members strapped into beds with metal frames that try to grab you as you wake by them before the trouble starts.

Later, Jimin will say he told you not to move and wait for him while you will argue with him that you heard him say nothing so you moved on like everything was fine and dandy. You’re in a room that looks like an abandoned classroom or something of the sort when things go awry. You won’t be able to appreciate how they converted the study room until months later because you receive the worst fright of your life there.

As you make your way through the desks towards the whiteboard at the front, the lights flicker before turning off completely and then the room, that’s already cold from the air conditioning blasting throughout the entire fraternity, begins to fill with fog. When the lights turn back on five seconds later, you blink, seeing dark spots from the abrupt brightness. As your eyes focus, you let out an earth shattering scream when you notice that there are two grown ass men who are much taller and bigger than you dressed like the Grady Twins from The Shining, brown shoulder length wigs, light blue dresses, white stockings and all, standing two feet away from you looking both incredibly imposing and impossibly threatening.

You fall to the ground and let yourself crumble into a ball, wrapping your arms around your legs as you press your shiny cobalt eye-shadowed eyelids against your icy knees. Jimin bursts into the room a minute later, following the sound of your shriek and immediately drops down on the ground next to you to wrap his arms around you and hugs you to his chest, squishing your face, the part that's not pressed against your knees, against his shoulder. He cradles your head into him as he brushes his hand over your hair several times soothingly.

You can hear him gruffly asking Soobin and Yeonjun to take five and vacate the room. The underclassmen readily do so since Jimin is a vice president of the chapter this year. Unlike your sorority, which has one president and vice president and then several chairs, Jimin’s fraternity has three vice presidents since it has a much larger student body. Namjoon’s the president, of course, while Yoongi is the external vice president with Hoseok dealing with internal affairs. Jimin is the member development vice president and since rush is over, his workload is a little lighter than the other heads’ at the moment.

“Y/N, I told you not to leave me,” he chastises as he somehow manages to pick you up from the ground and carry you as you wrap yourself around his body like a koala, clinging to his front. You burrow your nose, which feels like an icicle, into his collarbone as you tighten your arms around his neck like a noose. Your boyfriend, feeling horrible about your scare, ignores the discomfort that comes from the frosty contact of your skin against his.

As Jimin grasps your thighs more securely, you cross your legs even more tightly over his hips, “You didn’t tell me anything! I thought you were with me the entire time,” you cry out. You have no idea how your mascara and eyeliner are holding up but you hope they keep their waterproof promise as you start to sob again.

He brushes a kiss across the top of your head before he unexpectedly rushes to spit out a plastic strand of hair out of his mouth, having forgotten that you were wearing a wig since it was so dark inside the mansion. “Y/N, I don’t want to play the blame game with you when you’re in distress but, sweetheart, you walked away from me in the corn maze too. Y/N, if I’m going to be holding your hand the entire way through so you don’t get scared, you can’t let go of my hand and then blame me when you get frightened later on,” he harps softly, trying to keep condemnation out of his voice.

You pause your crying to protest, “You let go of my hand!” You still haven’t quite regained your senses and you keep attacking Jimin, whether validly or not… who’s to say? One thing’s for sure: the shock from your fear is keeping you from reacting rationally.

“Y/N, I told you I was going to tie my shoes and to not move, didn’t you hear me?” he asks, walking through the rest of the attractions without any harassment from the scarers. He’s guessing that Soobin and Yeonjun told them to leave the two of you alone, or the sight of Jimin carrying his obviously distressed girlfriend throughout the second floor has the other scarers giving you two a wide breadth. Hoseok even walks in the opposite direction with his cool scissor hands as he sees Jimin going for the next flight of stairs to the floor that has his bedroom.

“I didn’t hear anything, baby,” you mumble honestly, biting on your lip again, the soft waxy pink from your lipstick having long been worn off, “I swear.”

Jimin squeezes you around the middle, “Maybe it was just a misunderstanding,” he seems willing to let it go. He obviously doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night arguing with you.

Though it would have been infinitely easier for him to get his keycard out and open his dorm door if he put you down, Jimin lets you cling to him and one handedly hunts for the card in his wallet and then pushes the door open wide with his back, allowing the two of you to enter.

“I’m gonna set you down on my bed and change out of this costume okay, Y/N?” he asks, “Just because the costume party and this didn’t go as planned doesn’t mean we have to end the night on a bad note, yeah? Take off your shoes and wig, baby, and put Disney+ on. I’m going to get the snacks I bought yesterday out.”

You stare at Jimin, forgetting to do as he’s told you as you gaze enraptured by his handsomeness and natural charisma. As you watch Jimin peel off his multicolored shirt and shorts to abandon them in favor of a pair of black sweats, he mischievously smirks at you, playfully winking and giving a little strip tease which then shifts to him dragging his hand down his bare abdomen as he cutely yet sexily performs a hip roll for you which ends with a violent hip thrust that makes it clear that even with how cold it’s been tonight, the male is already at half-mast and still growing, his arousal undeterred by the chill.

The light smile that has been gracing your face disappears when Jimin sinks to his knees before you to pull your pink leather pumps off and you unexpectedly find yourself bursting into tears, distraught from the immense kindness and care Jimin has shown you tonight. This results in your boyfriend looking sharply up at you in abrupt alarm, puppy eyes widened as a look of deep concern takes over his entire face.

Jimin wiggles his way in between your legs, standing on his knees which make him basically the same height as you even with you sitting on his bed which is much higher. His hands, a little red from earlier outside, are freezing as they palm your cheeks and swipe both of his thumbs under your eyes at the same time to wipe away the fallen tears.

“Y/N, you need to tell me what’s wrong, right now,” your boyfriend stresses as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth, his crooked tooth digging into the plump flesh. As he pulls your blond wig off your hair he continues, “Baby, you’ve been off all day and it’s been getting worse and worse. You’re crying. What is it? Did I break a boundary in the haunted house? You wouldn’t cry over not winning a contest, right?”

You pull the wig cap off your darker natural hair, undoing the bun and finger-combing through it. Your bottom lip quivers as you pointedly look away from Jimin. How can you tell him? It’s your burden, not his. But how can you not tell him? It’s been eating you up inside, keeping it all to yourself.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you confess, pulling Jimin’s hands off you to bury your face in your own as you sob loudly behind your palms. Even as your eyes leak with salty tears you’re unable to control, you know that Jimin’s probably looking at you in bewilderment and possibly a little frustration that he can’t fix this for you since you still haven’t told him what’s wrong. You wish you had a makeup wipe to rub off all the makeup on your face that’s getting muddled from your tears.

“Do what? That sounds like something you say to someone when you want to break up,” he angrily spits out.

That makes you peek out from behind the darkness and protection of your hands. You look at your boyfriend and he looks livid. He looks like you have completely blindsided him and as though he immensely resents you for it. His thick eyebrows are furrowed low and his plump rose colored lips are pressed into thin white lines. His eyes are tinged with red and watery as they hold in unshed tears and glare at you with hard brown irises full of indignation. He has his arms crossed over his bare chest as he backs away from you, standing stiffly as he stares you down and you already know he’s closing up and getting his guard up. Soon, he won’t listen to a word you say.

Shit. No. NO NO NO. You’re panicking immediately, your hand coming up to your mouth but you instantly force it aside, knowing you can’t bite your nails anxiously when your relationship is falling apart right before your eyes.

“Jimin, no—Jimin, I wouldn’t,” you stammer hurriedly, tripping over your words in your rush to get them out fast enough while Jimin still is open to hearing you out.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Why did you have to stumble over your words like this? You can’t even talk properly, you think in disgust. You tried to blurt out your words fast enough so Jimin’s mood doesn’t darken over the heavy misunderstanding even more, but you can’t even speak.

NO! This can’t be happening to you two right now.

Finally you just scream out, the words frantically being pulled from your throat in your incredible frustration and distraughtness, “Jimin, I’m not breaking up with you. I swear to God. Jimin, I swear on my own fucking life, too!” You sob in anguish, “Jimin, please? Listen to me. I swear—I wasn’t thinking when I said that. Baby, please! This has nothing to do with you. Baby, this is just a miscommunication error—Please?” you implore, gulping and gasping in between every inconsolable plea, “I can’t lose you.”

“Tell me right now, Y/N,” Jimin spits out. His words are so hard they pierce through your heart like ice. He’s closing off, you despair. “I am so sick of today, Y/N. Maybe it’s gone on for even longer. I don’t like this month. We can’t continue like this.”

You ignore the anger that prickles through you. It’s not as though this is your fault entirely. He’s the one who is rude to you when you reach out. Maybe you’re more mad about him saying earlier that he didn’t want to talk than you thought. But this isn’t the moment for that fight. You need to rein in your temper and tell him what’s been eating you up inside. That thing with Jimin? It could be dealt with at another time.

You exhale shakily. It’s loud and uneven but you manage to get in and out a few more pulls of air before you attempt to talk to him. He stares at you stonily from where he’s perched against his wooden dresser the entire time. How has the night gone so wrong? Oh right—you ruined everything.

“This is humiliating, but. God, Jimin. I had to drop my Chemistry course. I was failing it,” you bitterly bite out, wiping away angry tears, “But it was far enough along in the semester that I couldn’t just drop it and enroll myself into another class to replace the units. And then I got a call from the financial aid office that this would drop my standing from a full-time to a part-time student this semester and I would have to pay them back part of my aid since they had disbursed it already, but part time students receive less money than full time students.

“And I thought it would be fine because, you know... I dropped a class and I suddenly opened my schedule up for more shifts and a second job.

“But God. My landlord increased our rent starting from October because he only lets us pay month to month in that stupid building and not have yearly leases. I never saw that as a problem before when I used to think it meant I could leave at any moment but... Pi Phi has gotten so fucking expensive too.”

You clamp down hard on your lips tasting wax and something vanilla-y from the remnants of your lipstick. As you think about Pi Phi, you are suddenly filled with a blistering rage. It causes you to growl out, “And I hate the stupid sorority, Jimin! They keep asking more and more out of me in every single way. They not only want my money but they want my time. My fucking blood, sweat, and tears.

“WHY THE HELL DO I HAVE TO PAY FOR A MEAL PLAN AT THE PI PHI HOUSE WHEN I DON’T EVEN LIVE THERE OR EAT THERE?” you suddenly lose even more of your cool, screaming about it for the first time. Finally able to unload your frustration at the events that have upended your entire life, “For the monthly chapter dinners??” you hiss and then venomously bite out, “Why aren’t the chapter events paid for with what they take from us in the form of dues already?!” It’s obvious you think you’re being swindled.

“I don’t have time either, Jimin. I picked up so many extra shifts for everything since I was low on cash after paying back the university. My grades have even started to suffer. What am I supposed to do? I’m trapped in this stupid sorority. I can’t leave or my children and I will be blacklisted from Pi Phi forever. I won’t have the damn connections I spent the last three years building when I start job hunting. And I already spent all that money and it’s gone down the drain if I leave.” you lividly brush away the tears that fall from your eyes, immensely chagrined at your delicate emotions and how you seem to be spilling tears at the drop of a hat, unable to control them.

“But, Jimin... I might be fucking homeless too if I can’t pick up shifts because of Pi Phi obligations. What am I supposed to do?”

Jimin rushes to you, basically tackling you as he wraps his arms around you and the two of you fall back onto the bed. Your hair is a dark halo around your head as Jimin squishes you into the mattress. “Y/N? My lovely Y/N. My precious angelic Y/N. My darling sweet Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me, baby?” he murmurs as he brushes soft kisses all over your face as he overwhelms you with tender compliments to make up for earlier when he mistakenly accused you of attempting to break up with him.

“I don’t want handouts from you, Jimin,” you fiercely protest, your eyes still glittering from unshed liquid, “I know you. You can’t stand it when someone you love or care about is going through something terrible. You want to fix it immediately, You’re a problem solver but I’m not your damsel in distress, Jimin. This isn’t your burden to carry or your problem to solve.”

Jimin just smiles at you lightly, evidently your boyfriend feels incredibly terrible about his outburst earlier that had led to his unfounded accusations. He also smiles in an attempt to control his anger, since it shouldn’t be entirely directed at you anyways, so it comes out a little rough and toothy, “It’s okay to ask for help, Y/N. You might not be my damsel in distress to save but no one said you had to slay all your dragons by yourself.”

“I don’t want your money Jimin,” you push against his shoulder, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but his dumb muscled frame doesn’t move an inch. Why is he so strong and solid? You’re no longer appreciative of how he can cart you along without breaking a sweat.

“I wasn’t going to give you money but I do have an idea,” he admits, tightening his arms around you as he rolls the two of you around so he’s no longer suffocating you underneath him. You struggle against his hold but are unsuccessful at loosening it even though your chances of escape should have increased since you are no longer buried underneath him. Quickly, you give up and flop back onto him, resting your head on his hard pectoral muscles. You can hear his heartbeat and it feels terribly intimate, making you struggle once more restlessly. You can’t stand this overwhelming downpour of love and acceptance from Jimin when you’ve treated him like shit today and continuously implied that he had a tendency to ditch you in scary situations.

“No ideas. I can do it by myself,” you protest stubbornly, lightly banging your head against the smooth silken expanse of his chest. You eye the tanned surface with narrowed eyes and contemplate whether you should bite him to show your ire, leaving a crescent of teeth marks on one of his generously endowed pectorals. You will that urge away and sigh.

“But you don’t have to,” Jimin cheerfully sings, with your eyes snapped shut against his warm skin you can’t see his face, but you have no doubt that he’s smiling widely at the moment. “Clearly, you can’t manage the stress.”

“Don’t, Jimin,” you warn, turning your head to the side so your lips are right by a tender nipple before taking it between your teeth, rolling the nub between it and biting down roughly. Evidently, you don’t have remarkable restraint. “I’ll hate you forever.”

“That’s an interesting dilemma you’re presenting me,” Jimin grins through the pain though you felt his full body wince and the way his body flinched away from you when you bit him, making you smirk deviously. His voice takes on the same tone as when he makes you listen to the stupid shit his Philosophy professor makes them argue about which then results in Jimin forcing you to counteract all of his arguments before the debates in class. “I don’t think you’ll hate me for what I’m going to suggest. But you know what, Y/N? If I ever had the opportunity to save you from ruin but it would result in you resenting me, I think I would still do it. I love you too much to let you live in misery.”

“I’m only in misery when I don’t have you, Jimin,” you disagree, pouting, “Everything else doesn’t matter.”

“Great,” Jimin grins, smacking a loud kiss against your lips, taking advantage of how enticing your puckered up lips look, rubbing off the remnants of your lipstick even more, “You’re gonna love my suggestion.”

“Ugh,” you groan in defeat, “Fine, let's hear it.”

“Let me move in with you.”

“Absolutely not!” you immediately protest, slapping a beefy bicep, and then pinching it lightly because that’s a dumb idea. No. He’s not moving in with you.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “Oh, come on. I spend more time at your apartment than my frat because you can’t fall asleep when you’re alone. You think someone is going to break in and murder you. You desperately need a roommate, or a better long term solution, and who is better than the guy who already spends so much time at your place that he should’ve probably started paying rent all the way back to August? Y/N, you spend so much money buying groceries that I end up finishing because you feel bad for making me spend nights with you that you feel like you have to pay me in ‘dinner and sex.’ Which, by the way, I don’t need constant food and sex, Y/N. I mean it’s nice but you’re not obligated to fulfill both those needs every time I’m at your place.”

“Jimin, you already paid for the entire year at your frat. You’re the vice president. You need to stay on deck at all times. You’re so important to Beta Tau,” you were not going to let Jimin waste money on an empty dorm. You knew how expensive Panhellenic housing was. Jimin probably paid for an exorbitantly expensive meal plan too. You ignore the comments about the food and the sex. You and Jimin cannot last more than five days without touching each other. Also, despite what Jimin says, he fully believes that you make the best Korean food out of anyone he knows at university. He’d probably wither and die if he had to live without your cooking since his diet otherwise consists solely of greasy takeout and energy drinks.

“First of all I’m a vice president not the vice president. Also, officers actually get free housing. That’s why the elections are so stiff every year. It’s the same reason that most of us decide to stay here instead of getting an apartment. We’re not being forced to stay and there’s no evil landlords trying to hike rent up illegally. Besides, it’s likely that a sophomore is going to be praising God the second he gets notified he got taken off the housing waitlist because a room just opened up. And it’s a single! Only officers get singles. Let me make that guy’s entire year, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” you shyly mumble, looking down at Jimin’s chest and the glittering jewelry on his nipples to avoid eye contact.

“Mmhmm,” Jimin agrees, placing two fingers under your jaw and tilting your face up, “Let me help you,” he whispers across your lips before pressing them against his own.

You break apart from the languid kiss to gasp softly, your breathing still raggedly from your crying earlier, and finally concede, “Okay.”

And just like that. It’s like a switch has been flipped. Now that your boyfriend is under the understanding that he has just fixed everything, caring thoughtful Jimin goes away as horny wicked Jimin takes his place.

The look Jimin casts over your entire body as his darkened brown eyes nonchalantly track their way down is diabolical. He has no idea how your body suit is staying attached to your chest when its cut down the middle to your navel and he immediately has both of his hands going up to your breasts to cup them – his fingers slipping into your bodice, gripping onto the sparkly blue cloth before he roughly pulls them off the soft mounds. You glare at him as the sticky tape you used to keep the cups in position gets pulled off your body, leaving red marks on your skin where the adhesive had been.

Jimin ducks his head down, nosing your puffy nipples that begin to tighten once exposed to the chilly air, in apology. As his nose brushes against the sensitive nubs, hardening them, his mouth seeks those agitated red patches of skin, swiping fat strokes with his tongue over them, massaging in wet circles with its tip, as he sloppily layers them in his spit, soothing the flesh before puckering his lips around the sore areas, sucking on them until the marks darken into more vivid reds and purples, sometimes even adding the sharp bite of his teeth to deepen their permanence. He kisses all around your breasts, leaving marks from all over, even on the valley in between – almost as though he wants to make sure you can’t wear anything low cut or this daring without everyone seeing how you are his like he is yours.

You rake your nails down his back when you realize that, scoffing at how he’s still possessive almost three years into your relationship. Jimin looks up at you as he feels your nails dimpling into his skin, a shy but proud lopsided smile on his swollen, fuschia colored lips. He’s so fucking unapologetic. You roll your eyes before you return his grin and it’s only then that he returns his attention to your breasts, finally wrapping his lips around a pebbled peak, gently nipping them before his cheeks hollow out from the force that he’s sucking them, suddenly taken over by desperation. He swathes his tongue over and over the hard nub, before deciding to drag his teeth along the sensitive bud, rolling it between his teeth and then closing down, making you squeal, your head lolling to the side.

His intensity has you losing your mind underneath him. You writhe restlessly beneath Jimin’s body, your limbs spasming while your hips keep surging up, knocking against Jimin’s front frantically, seeking friction in vain. The stupid thick cloth of his dark colored sweatpants don’t let you feel anything but the faint shadow of Jimin’s dick, despite all your frantic bucking.

“Jimin,” you cry out in frustration, “Jimin!” You don’t even know what you want. Do you want him to take his pants off and furiously rut against you through your panties? Or do you want him to stop making you fall apart into pieces with his mouth that doesn’t cease its relentless besiege on your breasts?

Your boyfriend hears you, though, and it has him backing away from your body so he can look down at you to figure out the dimensions of your costume and how the fuck to get that thing off of you so you can be completely nude in his bed. You immediately whimper at the loss of contact. Jimin’s like a furnace and without his body covering you or his hot mouth against your skin, you can now feel the chill in his room which has not been excluded from the icy drafts that the fraternity has blasting through the mansion with the aid of central air conditioning to further the intensity of their haunted house. The entire place is temperature controlled which means the only thing Jimin can do to keep you warm is to wrap his frame around you since both of you are unwilling, at the moment, to put on more layers.

When Jimin finally rips the bright turquoise suit off, you’re left in only your mesh thong – the panties are made up of a diaphanous pink fabric that covers your mound, but lets Jimin see everything underneath as the golden tint to your skin peaks out through the cloth, and is edged with a lime green scalloped ribbon that has a cute little green bow on the center. Jimin can even see how the swath of fabric that’s pressed against your folds is darker from how wet you are, dripping into the material, deepening the color. “I love how you matched your panties to your leg warmers, Y/N. That eager to have sex with me tonight? You already creamed, no oops – screamed, them, and we’ve barely done anything,” Jimin goads, shamelessly staring down at you, his lips curling up devilishly as he can see the visible effect he has on your body.

“I always want to have sex with you,” you shrug blasély, unashamed of your desire and immune to Jimin’s taunts after so many years. He doesn’t embarrass you with how vulgar and descriptive he gets anymore.

But when Jimin starts to pump his fingers through your folds, the incessant speed and fervor has you whimpering to the point that you have to purse your lips in an attempt to conceal them. Jimin’s prodding fingers leave your pussy revealing that it has completely soaked them, making the male hold his hand up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the pads of his fingers as he rejoices in your delicious taste.

“Come here, baby,” Jimin hums, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling warmly as he lulls you into a false sense of confidence. His fingers wrap around your smooth, shaven calves, gently dragging your cotton leg warmers down your legs.

In the blink of an eye, before you can even realize what has fully happened, your boyfriend has tied you up with those dumb multicolored striped pieces of fabric to his headboard. Your hands are bound together at the wrists and then closely tied to one of the headposts, limiting your upper range of motion. The most you can do is buck up, your back arching as you struggle and your legs kick about, but then even that motion becomes limited as Jimin straddles your abdomen. He’s up on his knees, his legs on either side of you and then the male pushes his black sweats and the navy boxer briefs he had worn for the party, so that he wouldn’t flash anyone in those tight costume shorts, halfway down his bulging muscled thighs, moving up your body until the pinkened mushroom head of his dick nudges against your lips, wordlessly telling you to part them.

Feeling defiant, you turn your face to the right and the precum that was beading the head of his cock smears against your cheek at the sudden movement. Your entire face heats up at that, a scarlet flush deepening the color of your cheeks, reddening your throat and décolletage.

“Y/N,” Jimin growls lowly, biting harshly down on the inside of his cheek and that’s all it takes for you to reposition your head, though you glare at him before you slowly spread apart your lips and take in just the bulbous tip into the warm wet cavern of your mouth. You suckle it languidly, focusing on just that part for a moment, twirling your tongue around it and sucking it hard, the point of your tongue poking the slit and eagerly lapping up every bit of precum that leaks out.

But soon you get into it, your neck stretching as you eagerly attempt to take in more of his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slide your lips over it. His tip drags against the roof of your mouth and you splutter in frustration around his cock that you can’t move enough to get even more of his length down your throat. At that Jimin moves even more up your chest, his bony knees almost digging into your armpits since your arms are thrown over your head in their tied position, though he carefully keeps himself perched so none of his weight is pressing down on your delicate rib cage. The male leans one of his arms back to rest his weight on his hand which is fisting his sheets, his fingers digging into his mattress while your actions pick up fervor as you eagerly bob your head forward to enthusiastically deep throat him. His other hand blindly reaches behind him in the direction of your folds, traveling down your continuously clenching tummy and pelvis, the delicate digits traversing the tightened muscles to successfully find the opening to your core, his thumb brutally pressing down on your pulsating clit, striving to hurl you towards release as you do the same to him.

His thumb furiously rubs at that sensitive bud while his other fingers roam your folds, two of them breaching your entrance to plunge into your gushing center, thick digits knuckle deep as he multitasks, pumping two of them in and out of you, curling them up with his fingertips brushing against the furled grooves of your walls, his hard fingernails raking against your insides to making you wail in discontent as his thumb keeps building up that pressured assault against your battered clit.

Meanwhile, you’re gagging on his cock as it sits heavily on your tongue, allowing you to feel the protruding vein along the underside, jutting further into your mouth, brushing against the back of your throat, stabbing your tonsils. You curl your tongue upwards, trying to follow the path of the vein with the tip. The ribbed, warm skin of his shaft against your tongue makes you salivate, drool dripping out your lips while you similarly drench yourself down south as a flood of arousal flows through your core.

But after a moment Jimin snarls, “No,” in frustration, his flushed forehead scrunched up as he seeks something more, something that will perhaps yield more satisfaction and result in greater relief, moving off of your body to agitatedly pull at the fabric of his pants, shredding them off completely.

When the male returns to you, completely nude, all warm peach, soft cream and blush pink shades, he decides to straddle you in the opposite direction, facing away from you. He grips your thighs firmly to maneuver your legs in a bent position, his palms feeling rough as they grasp onto the round globes of your ass to lift your pelvis off the bed, making your back arch as your pussy becomes level with Jimin’s mouth so that he can eat you out. He slides backwards after he properly positions you like you’re his feast so that you can once again take his dick in your mouth, allowing the two of you to properly sixty-nine.

Jimin’s cock twitches in your mouth in excitement and you quickly suckle it to keep it from jerking unexpectedly again, slowly teasing it and building up the pressure. As you keep things slow, Jimin shudders against your mons, his breath seeping through the mesh fabric of your thong, falling over your sensitive skin and making you get goosebumps all over. His lips close over your engorged clit through your panties, sucking so hard he wets the material so heavily it becomes transparent. But after a moment he abandons it, using his nose to nudge the cloth aside so that your folds are finally bare before he eagerly sets in. He sloppily licks fat stripes from your clit to your core, jabbing the tip of his tongue into you, nipping at your petaled folds. In his hunger, he doesn’t realize that he is slowly moving away from your mouth until your lips frantically wrap themselves around his mushroom tip, as you struggle to keep him in your mouth, back to only being able to suck on that upper part of his shaft. He grips your thighs even more soundly, slurping at your juices as your thighs quiver and jiggle on either side of his face. He can’t get enough of how you taste, his grunts mingling with your lustful moans and whimpers that pierce through the air. It doesn’t take him long before he successfully catapults you into a powerful climax, your soft thighs trapping his head as they close around it. Jimin ignores the constraint, sniffing at your delicious scent, lapping at your folds until he has successfully slurped up every bit of your orgasm.

When he releases his grip on your ass, no longer holding you up, your legs unbend, falling as you can no longer hold the position on your own due to the current jellylike state of your limbs. He climbs off your body to sit beside you, his back against the headboard as he finally takes off the bindings around your wrists. The second you’re free, you don’t get a chance to do much before you find yourself hauled up by Jimin and dumped on his lap, your still sensitive cunt brushing against his painfully hard dick as your thighs bracket his, making you twitch in his embrace.

You face him, taking in the messed up hair, voluminous and in disarray, the puffy reddened lips, and the coral colored flush that overtakes his skin from his ears to his cheeks to the entirety of his throat. He looks delirious, so terribly fucked out, and when you eagerly seek to touch his plush lips with your own red bitten ones, his eyes close softly, his black eye lashes fluttering closed as he lets out a blissful sigh. The kiss is earnest and gentle, Jimin’s fingers lightly twitching against your chin as they delicately grip it. “I love you,” you hum into the kiss, when you break apart for the smallest of moments, your lips trembling against his.

His heart skips a beat at your sincere declaration, blood surging to both his cheeks and his cock as he becomes even more maddened at those words, filled with an overflowing amount of love and lust for you as they take over his mind and make him lose control. He leans more deeply into the kiss, intensely passing his lips over yours again and again, too restless and greedy to let you part for a second or breath.

You’re his, he’s yours; he will never let you two be anyone else’s. This is forever for him.

“Ride me, Y/N?” he begs, when he finally is able to let you go, comforted by how your arms are wound tightly around his frame. His gray hair is darkened at the roots to a sooty charcoal color from how much he’s sweating even in this freezing room and as you brush it back, away from how they’ve fallen into his eye line, he murmurs, “At least in the beginning. Please, baby.”

You press your hands against his chest, your palms brushing against the rock hard points of his nipples as you lift your ass off his lap. You ask Jimin to help line your folds up with his cock because you’re too busy with your sudden obsession with the furled buds of his dark mauvy brown nipples. You find yourself too busy flicking them and rolling them between your forefinger and thumb, to be bothered to make sure that his cock would enter your opening. Honestly, if Jimin left you to your own devices, distracted as you are by the pretty shiny jewelry adorning his pecs – you would probably just absentmindedly sit down on him, rubbing your pussy against his length, too lazy to make sure he was actually penetrating you with his fat cock, fine with just getting off by humping each other.

You continue to swirl your tongue around the beaded nubs. Jimin hisses and groans when you nudge the metal ends of his piercings with the pointed tip of your tongue. The hardness of the platinum bars brushing against your taste buds seem so at odds with the silkiness of Jimin’s skin and you find yourself moaning as you lick up his chest, your tongue capturing the saltiness of his sweat on it.

Jimin sighs as he continues to let you dart little kitten licks against the hard points of his nipples. It always surprises him just how similar he and you are. You say it’s because he’s a Libra and you’re an Aquarius and that makes you both air signs, but honestly – he doesn’t know. What he does think is that he’s glad you two still get along, even though not only do you both have the same personalities down to a tee, the two of you often blow your lids at the most random things – fortunately, it’s usually not over the same things. But you both are also infatuated with the exact same features on each other, often wanting to perform the exact same sexual act on each other, even if you guys sometimes have to determine an order when it’s not possible to do it simultaneously.

He can’t blame you for wanting to suck his nipples right now when he spent over an hour with his face pressed to your breasts earlier in the afternoon, at one point even motorboating you until you shoved him away rolling your eyes, pretending it wasn’t enjoyable for you at all. This means that he'll happily let you hum against his sweat slickened skin in pleasure as you lick and nibble while he grabs ahold of your shapely hips and makes you slide up and down against his length. When you finally stop your adoration of Jimin’s chest, you sheepishly take back control and increase your speed, enthusiastically bouncing up and down on his dick, using his shoulders to clutch onto.

As the pace picks up momentum, you get sloppier, resulting in his cock dragging against your folds roughly. It makes you mewl mindlessly and Jimin moves his hands away from your hips now that you’ve taken back the reins. Instead, his hands go upwards, fingers knotting themselves into your hair as his palms cradle the back of your head, he gently nudges your head forward with his hands, guiding you towards his lips before you meet them in a desperate kiss that has you both sighing intermittently against each other’s mouth.

It’s taking you more and more effort to lift yourself off his cock and fall down onto it again as your thighs tighten with another approaching orgasm. When Jimin finally notices your struggles, he quickly rolls the two of you around so that he’s on top of you and you’re lying on your back with your legs wrapped high around his waist as he energetically jackhammers into you with tight, lethal snaps of his hips, keeping up a furious pace. His fat, monstrous length pounds into you again and again as you mindlessly rake your nails down his back, struggling to find purchase. He rams his cock into your hole as your walls quiver and tighten around him, reluctant to let him go.

Too enraptured by your beauty as he is full of both love and lust, it’s not enough for Jimin to just stare down at you, maintaining eye contact as he snaps his hips, pistoning into you. No, Jimin has to remain busy, giving you as much pleasure as possible, and so his head ducks low, wetly and messily kissing and biting his way from your throat to the expanse of your chest, littering your smooth skin with even more torrid love bites and hickeys. It’s fortunate that it is sweater weather because there is no way you can wear a bikini top without showing everyone the, at least, twenty impassioned marks that stain your skin as proof of Jimin’s adoration and devotion. His hand also sneaks its way down to increase the intensity, fiercely rubbing your clit to stimulate you. This time when you come, you squirt, drenching Jimin’s bed sheets. And all it takes is you gushing around him from your orgasm for your boyfriend to come powerfully inside you, collapsing onto your frame.

For a long moment, you let Jimin crush your body under his weight, welcoming the closeness and how his skin sticks and clings to yours with how sweaty you both have become. You tighten your legs even further around his hips, keeping his warm cock buried within you for as long as you can, but when it starts to erratically twitch from the overstimulation, you know it’s time for Jimin’s exhausted cock to pull out.

“Shower with me?” Jimin whispers against the shell of your ear, making you shiver. All of your senses are still overwhelmingly heightened after that second orgasm, “We can use up all of the hot water since they turned on the fucking A/C even though it’s almost winter.”

You let Jimin pull you along to the ensuite bathroom, both of you thanking God that he’s an officer who gets several privileges. Jimin lets you remain a little longer in the shower than himself, escaping early since you two couldn’t agree on the temperature. You had wanted it warmer than he did and he could only stand it for so long. You use the time to scrub every bit of Halloween makeup off your skin. As the water runs a bluish gray, you wonder how the fuck Jimin had sex with you when you looked properly fucked out and a right mess with your makeup running all over your face. Surely you could not have looked very pretty. You bite your lip, making yourself blush, but Jimin certainly must’ve thought you did with the way he kept staring at you the entire time. The heat of a thousand suns were behind his eyes as his eyes swept over your body and locked with yours.

When you exit the bathroom, in an oversized fuzzy Beta Tau crewneck that belongs to your boyfriend and one of his thicker pairs of sweats, your hair is blown dry since you didn’t want to drip water onto Jimin’s bed, wetting the sheets, when it was already so cold. Looking over the room, you find that Jimin has changed his bedding so it no longer has the evidence of his cum and your squirting splattering it.

Jimin’s already on top of the new sheets with, what do you know, Toy Story 3 all queued up on Disney+, though you know he takes any and all opportunity to rewatch The Nightmare Before Christmas that he can. The male hurriedly opens his arms out wide for you when he notices that you’re back in the room and you launch yourself into his embrace. Once you’re comfortable with your back pressed against his chest, he covers the two of you with his thick, warm blankets.

“Jimin?” you ask, twirling a flat lock of hair. Unless you style it, your freshly washed hair never has any volume.

“Yes, baby?” he answers dutifully, kissing your forehead. He’s warm and cozy, smelling like orange blossoms and citrus trees, both floral and woody and you love it, inhaling deeply.

“Can you come over on Sunday? I want to eat dinner together with you,” you admit, pulling the sleeves of his crewneck until your fingers are no longer visible and you have sweaterpaws.

“Depends on what you make,” he teases, nudging his nose against yours.

But you don’t realize, answering him seriously with thoughtful consideration to your dinner menu, “I was thinking I could make kimchi jjigae and maybe also dakgalbi?”

“Y/N, I was gonna be there with you regardless,” Jimin murmurs, raking his hand through his hair, pushing back the long straight strands of gunmetal colored hair from falling over his eyes and impeding his vision, “I’ll start moving in from tomorrow but it might be a little hard since I have rehearsal and then the actual showcase in the evening. But I figured I could get a huge chunk done on Sunday. Of course, I’ll eat dinner with my baby.”

“Jimin?”

“Yes, baby?” Jimin giggles before grinning at how you keep hesitantly repeating his name first before just saying whatever you wanted to tell him.

“I love you very much,” you admit, shyly, worrying your teeth over your lips that are covered with Jimin’s cherry chapstick you found on his sink’s counter. It’s not gross to share lip balm when you two are always kissing anyway. At least this way, neither of your lips are ever chapped and flaking.

“I know, baby. I love you, too. I’m sorry about snapping at you on Tuesday when you brought me food,” he confesses, his hands sliding up and down your arms, attempting to increase the friction to warm you up as you curl into his form.

“Oh. No, baby. That’s okay. It’s already forgotten, don't worry about that.”

“Yeah?” Jimin asks, hugging you tightly from the back, burrowing his nose into your hair. It smells like his Aromatica shampoo and you.

“Of course. You were just under a lot of pressure from midterms, baby. Don’t fret.”

“Yeah?” Jimin repeats, quirking his eyebrows playfully, “So you know that I don’t hold anything that happened today against you, right? Let’s just move forward, baby.”

“Oh, I see,” you opine, “This was a trap.”

“Don’t look at it that way,” suggests Jimin, cackling his head off, his cheeks stretched high and his eyes closing in the shape of half moons that are edged with his long dark lashes, “It’s a testament of my love for you.”

“What a forgiving and reasonable boyfriend I have,” you giggle, playing along, knocking your shoulder back into his chest, “He’s probably the best boyfriend to ever exist.”

“He is,” Jimin agrees.

“And I love him so much,” you declare, punctuating your statement with a happy kiss.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License

©OPALJM 2021

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