#ressjeon: masterlist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oftenderweapons · 3 months ago

Text

Bourbon Bossa Nova | MYG | Pt.1

This story is part of the Blue Crush Collab

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (nicknamed Sunny)

Wordcount: 7k

Rating: 18+ (This part is pretty innocent, but Part 2 will feature mature content)

Genre: strangers to friends to lovers, composer!Yoongi x lifeguard!YN

Content warning: swearing, alcohol, allusions to sexual thoughts. Allusions to death, child abandonment and family loss.

Synopsis: when you start your summer at Honeycomb Cove, you're only expecting sunshine, waves and annoying teenage bravado as you work as a lifeguard. What you don't expect is Min Yoongi. He wasn't expecting you either. Soon your morning walks are your favourite part of the day, until you realise it's not really the walks, maybe it's always been him you are, after all, waiting for.

Shoutout to the incredible folks who helped me find courage to keep believing in this fic - and finally posting it. To Mars (@joheunsaram), To Bells (@youtifulhobi) to Yannie (@ressjeon), my power squad who believed in this fic (and in my writing skills) more than I did. Here's to me finally breaking my dry spell!!! And to some of my old and new supporters and cheerleaders @lelegzem0, @aanncchhuu, @blushingatyou and @percheee (other people are most definitely in this list but Tumblr is limiting my access to previous notes so I can't find you all) You folks are part of the reason I'm still rolling in the dust here on Tumblr

Part two out now!

Here's my masterlist, just in case you're new

Also: disclaimer! (very important, I should have put this first) I'm not Brazilian, and I have very little familiarity with Brazilian culture, but I really wanted to do a shoutout to this incredible country, its people, its art and its music. If you have any notes you would like to leave regarding Antonio's characters and Yoongi's attachment to Brazilian culture, you are the most welcome, both here in the comments and in my blog. I'd love to learn more 💜

Enjoy the fic!!!

May is a great thing. Flowers everywhere, the smell of sunscreen starting to spread in the air, orange dawns, hair getting frizzy with salty air and too much time in the water. Sand under your toes, loose linen garments, wearing a sports bra and a pair of shorts all the time, throwing an oversized sweater on when the night gets too cold, the smell of citrus and geranium to keep mosquitoes away.

Early summer is great. Way better than midsummer and August. May and mid-September had always been your favourite times of the year: the beginning felt like sparks starting to burst, and the end felt like the natural conclusion of things, that languid nostalgia sweeping in gently, like the soft wind ready to carry in autumn days and blow the leaves away.

The smell of rosemary and lavender and juniper accompanied you to the beach as you walked down one of the side alleys.

“Good morn’ Earl!”

The old man turned to greet you as he kept watering the hibiscus bushes before the sun became too blinding, burning the poor flowers. “Morning Sunny!”

“Remember your heart pill!”

“Sure! Already took it!” Earl shouted back, his voice bubbly and bright.

You waved at him as you kept walking, ready to meet your next friend. “Hello Rosa!”

“Hi Sunny!”

The old lady already had her cocker spaniel on a leash, ready for her morning walk. “When’s Mindy coming around this year?”

“Mid-July. And she’s taking her children too!” The woman looked ecstatic about her daughter visiting.

“That sounds amazing! I really have to rush, bye Rosa! And bye Lemon!”

“Lemon say bye!” Rosa told her dog, making her bark just in time before you started your jog.

Being a lifeguard was great. It was the life you had always dreamed of. You had always worked out to fit in the lifeguard guidelines requirements, and a good ninety percent of your decisions had been oriented to making sure that you could be a lifeguard from the second week of May to the first week of October — that is the entirety of tourist season. Once autumn arrived, you would resume working at the retirement home: it was only your second year with that working arrangement, and you weren’t sure it would work at first, but your grandmother being the godmother of the director of the elderly institute guaranteed you would always find a spot working there; plus, they were also constantly in need of an extra set of hands, especially if those hands came with a degree in nursing.

You’ve always known you wanted to work in elderly care just as much as you’ve always known you were made to be a lifeguard. Your parents were worried over the sort of sacrifices and strains that such an occupation would entail: all the caregiving, and the cleaning and the affection you spend on people you’re inevitably going to lose; yet it felt natural to you. Sure, some people can be antagonistic and diffident, in some cases you end up being more of a nanny than a nurse, but most of the time, it’s worth it. After two years in this field, the ups are definitely brighter than the darkest lows, and you’re under the strong impression that it will keep being so.

Back to the glorious morning in front of you, you took off your flip-flops as you reached the best place in the world: the golden beach of Honeycomb Cove. Smiling, you fixed your cap on top of your head and walked to your tower, depositing your stuff in the cabin before going for your morning run. As you were opening the umbrella, taking in the blue infinity of the ocean before you, you spotted an unfamiliar figure below, a big fisher hat on its head, a long-sleeved white shirt covering its arms, a stick in one hand while the other was pressed to his lower back in a fist.

“Hi, hello there!” you greeted, a wide smile for the small, old man walking on the shore before your tower. The bizarre figure lifted his head up, eyes squinted, his button nose curiously pointing about as he looked for the voice.

“Over here! Good morning, sir!” You waved energetically at him, the man frowning — not that you could notice that, because of the distance and the hat.

“Morning?” he greeted back in confusion before continuing his walk.

Yoongi was extremely confused when he heard the voice. His night had been too long for him not to suppose he was hearing voices. Maybe his time had finally come and that was the call of some deity summoning him to whatever comes after the struggles of the living.

What he didn’t expect was for the voice to call again, this time the source clearly identifiable. He squinted at the lifeguard tower and offered a small wave in greeting.

She — that had to be a she — seemed to be set alight in sunlight, the early morning light making her glow in something brighter than gold.

He had a precise image in his mind for a second, something his grandmother had told him when he was a child. Something like mythology, like Achilles’ halo of hair, or Helios who carries the chariot of the Sun.

He shook his head and continued walking, turning around only once he was several feet ahead and her long legs had carried her in the opposite direction, her wide strides amazing Yoongi, who could just stare at her golden, looped locks bouncing as she played with the back-and-forth of the tide, running along it.

For a second, Yoongi thought of The Girl from Ipanema, shortly before remembering all the controversies behind it, and how much his grandmother hated the song because of “the male gaze”. With chastised pupils, he let his gaze fall back to the fragments of seashells at his feet, the distant fall of her feet meeting the sound of the tide calling to his ears in a hypnotizing beat.

All the way back to his home, Yoongi let it ring and echo through all the empty halls of his brain, until he could finally — although artificially — recreate it in the calm of his home, and let it resonate through its corridors.

Yoongi would define himself quite a reserved man. He had his home — an old Victorian-style house in the more quiet and deserted part of the bay, too inhospitable for tourists, still linked to the naval history of the cove. He had renovated the house after his grandmother had left it to him, replacing the old wooden axes with new, not rotten ones, repainting the walls and repolishing the floors, installing soundproof panels on the room he had decided to turn into his studio.

It had only been a short while since he’d moved into the beach house; his college in San Francisco and his scholarship and research in New Orleans had sent him spiralling between opposites, diving deep into sounds he wasn’t entirely familiar with, and in a bout of homesickness and confusion, he’d decided to return to his true roots, to his true north.

Here he could daydream of green hills and golden beaches of a faraway place that he could only imagine through the saudade of an old immigrant. He could feel the beat of that city that was nothing but an overgrown village, the roaring of cars on dirt roads, and that open-armed man that seemed to be every man, every woman, every human being in that open-armed city — that all-forgiving man that seemed to welcome strangers, with their weary feet and guilty souls.

He knew the place that inhabited his wildest dreams, his most romanticised visions, no longer existed. It had been erased by decades of progress and politics and human greed. That place where all his bedtime stories took place was no longer, and maybe it had never been. Yet Yoongi longed to reach that all-forgiving stone man and feel, just feel how the rolling waves carried all the nostalgia and the sins and the tears of those lost souls that reached a new land hoping for fortune and maybe a brand new start.

He too was something in between worlds. Son of a woman adopted by a foreigner and a man lost in time, somewhere. And there was nothing more foreign to him than the woman who had raised him, the same woman who had given him the house he was living in. He had always been drifting in something somewhat estranged. His mother had been a nobody, abandoned before an orphanage, the only known facts were her name — Moonbae — and that she had been abandoned as the last of sixth children, her family too poor to afford her. As a twist of fate, she had then been adopted by an American anthropologist — Yoongi’s grandma — who had always respected her will to stay away from her past. Still, loss persecuted her, her loving, if a little taciturn adoptive father passing due to a mysterious disease somewhere in Guatemala.

It took several years for Beatrice and Moonbae to settle in the old colonial house in Honeycomb Cove; Trice had returned to her great-grandmother to assist the incredibly old lady to her last breath. Needless to say, she then inherited the house. The women lived sheltered, quiet lives until Moonbae got pregnant. A summer fling, that was all it was, the man a fleeting tourist who took a risk too many, fathering a son he would never take care of.

His absence was filled by someone who looked the exact opposite of the little moonbeam of a child, laying pale and tranquil in his cradle, lulled by strange, exotic songs that his grandmother had perfected for him.

Beatrice fell in love with a man who became everything to Yoongi — someone Moonbae never approved of, so much so that she decided to leave town when her son was maybe four years old. She never returned. Beatrice never looked for her either.

Antonio was eighteen years younger than Beatrice, his skin a rich cinnamon shade, his accent so thick that it took a while for Yoongi to decipher the heavy Brazilian cadence in the man’s English.

Yoongi preferred when Antonio spoke Brazilian Portuguese, anyways. By the time the boy was fourteen, he and his acquired grandfather easily conversed on the wooden patio, drinking lemonade, a guitar in the man’s arms. Antonio taught Yoongi everything, the boy so taciturn, so eager to listen, that the nationless musician let all his woes and nostalgia pour out. And maybe the man was no citizen, something in between an exile and a fugitive, but in that old house, he found a home, with Trice constantly refusing to marry him and loving him like a madwoman at the same time.

Yoongi doubted love like that could exist anymore. A love so strong that when she had passed, Antonio had magically drifted away together with her a few months after, disregarding his significantly younger age. What the not-so-old man would never say was that he passed in tranquillity, knowing that he had taught his spiritual child all he had to offer.

And just so, Yoongi won a scholarship, all because of the easy, wordless afternoons when Antonio taught him to play three instruments and speak that language that reminded Yoongi of his old cat, Sweeper, and the way he lazily rolled around in the sun.

Now he was just a young man graduated from a prestigious music academy in San Francisco, two of his compositions had been featured as soundtrack in a couple movies, and he was already producing for a small recording studio specialised in chamber music. He didn’t make much money out of it, to be true, but sometimes he managed to have an extra income with royalties, and he was currently composing his first mixtape — for which a studio had already contacted him, and the fact that Antonio had introduced him to some of the most influential artists in the San Francisco scene had quite definitely jump-started his career.

He was living a cool life, the kind of life he had always seen himself living. He worked at night and finished his day at seven am; then he would head out for a walk, when the sun was still gentle in summer and when it would be barely up in winter. And next, he would sleep. Wake up around five pm. Get some food ready and start all over again. He’d returned to Honeycomb Cove only six months prior, so he hadn’t yet entirely reconnected with his local social circle, plus most of his friends were still in college, which meant that it wasn’t that easy to arrange a get together. But to be true he was quite excited about Seokjin being back in town and spring break approaching. By summer come, they would all be a great team again and he would feel like he had all the time in the world.

His musings were interrupted by the doorbell. That had to be his pizza. It was almost eleven and Gerry, the old Italian man who owned the pizza place at the end of the street, always knew that Tuesday night meant late night pizza for Yoongi.

He grabbed the money — already perfectly calculated so he could pay for the pizza and leave a tip for the delivery boy, Pippo. But tonight it wasn't the delivery boy knocking at his door. As he opened it, he found a wondrous mass of blond curls right in front of his eyes. “Oh, hi!”

“Hey!” The voice sounded chirpy, familiar.

A sudden breeze pushed the stranger’s perfume past the doorway, the scent crashing over Yoongi like the surf. God she smells good, Yoongi thought, lips agape as he stared at the woman in his doorway. It was a mix of coconut and papaya, the scent overpowering the tasty smell of his pizza.

You put on your friendliest, warmest, brightest smile, then said: “We met on the beach right? You must be Min Yoongi. I'm _____. Gerry said you always dine alone and told me you could use some company.”

“I'm not a charity case,” Yoongi replied before realising how rude he'd just been.

“Well, that's a funny introduction, Not A Charity Case. Is that the name you chose to go by? Like Jenny From The Block?” You shook your head and looked away. “What told you it's not me who could use a friend. May I?” You asked, pointing at the door, asking if you could enter. “You can ask Gerry. He sent me. I've just arrived for the season and I could really use a friend. He told me you're a good person and you're always alone too.”

Yoongi was almost outraged by your insolence. Were you always so blunt? He was also confused: what kind of setup was this?!

You passed him the pizza and he lifted the lid, checking that it was actually his and that you weren't an imposter, or a serial killer.

'Take the golden retriever girl. She needs a smart friend. -G,’ read a note left inside the box.

“Yeah, I’m Yoongi,” he said, almost defeated. “Come on in, then.” If he found his house entirely stripped of anything worth money, he would sue Gerry.

“Oh. Thank you.” You flashed him a grin.

Yoongi's knees almost caved. What a smile. It was like… like staring at the sun. But in a good way. It was like a blue sky. Soothing. Serene. Cloudless, pacific.

You placed your own pizza box next to his on the counter while at the same time you looked around. “Wow, your house is so pretty. Your family lives here?”

Yoongi opened his pizza and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “I don't have a family anymore.”

You froze. “I'm sorry.” You were already failing at this. That's why your friends all had fake teeth and a medical record thicker than your cookbook. Not to mention the average age.

“It's okay. I got used to that. You should be the lifeguard, right? Wait, would you like some beer?”

You shook your head. “I'd like some water please.”

Of course you would, he realised. You had to be one of those health freaks. He could already anticipate how easily he could make you run from him with his suicidal diet.

He placed a glass beside your pizza box before sitting down and getting ready to dig in. “I still owe you the money. From the pizza.”

“I already paid for both. I thought that since I wasn't bringing you a housewarming present, I could at least buy you some food.” You took a slice and started eating up, humming and nodding at the taste. “I get why he works so much. This pizza is heaven.”

“Yeah. All the kids here grew up on sunshine and Gerry's pizza,” Yoongi mentioned casually. He liked that you talked with your mouth full. He did, too. Beatrice had never liked that.

“Are you from the neighbourhood?” He asked before wolfing down another slice.

“Kinda. I live a bit farther into the mainland. I used to come here on holiday when I was little. With my parents.” You took a sip of water as Yoongi learned one more thing about you.

“I thought so. I don’t really remember you from growing up, and me and my friends know all of the locals.” Yoongi studied your face, trying to dissect any detail that could make you familiar.

“I see. You’ve been raised here, I assume?”

“Yup.” The silence is heavy, but at least you can distract yourself with food. “So, lifeguard? That your dream job?” He said it sarcastically, almost evilly before he realised you were nodding eagerly and happily.

“My great-grandpa was a sailor. I've always wanted to live by the sea.” You munched on the crunchy crust, Yoongi blinking rapidly.

Making fun of you felt like shooting a dead body. There was no use — and no mercy — in doing that. “Shouldn't you be in college or something?”

“I took nursing school. And I'm old enough to be out of college.” Yoongi’s tone had really made that sound like an insult, but you tried your best not to assume the worst.

Yoongi tried to get on his better behaviour. You were a new person, you wouldn’t understand his sardonic tone. “I'm sorry,” he said, contrite.

“For what? Me being a certified nurse and a person in charge of other people's lives? I know I look stupid, no need to rub it in.” You arched an eyebrow, rather fed up with the weirdness of this exchange, of the man sitting before you. You stood up and closed the box of your pizza, still half uneaten. “Sorry I disturbed your night. Enjoy your meal—”

“Wait, no! Don't go, please.” He didn't know what suddenly convinced him to make you stay. “I was a dick, I'm sorry, let's start over.”

You hesitated for at least three seconds and then, despite your better judgement, you sat back. “I'm ____. But my friends call me Sunny. It's my middle name. Really. My parents thought it funny.”

It suited you so damn bad. Yoongi wanted to bask in your aura in a hammock with a slight breeze and a samba playing in the distance. “It's a really nice name. It really suits your appearance. And I mean that as a compliment.”

You breathed out the tiniest laugh.

“I'm Yoongi and that's the only name I have. We don't use middle names.” He relaxed once you opened your box once more.

“Where is it from?” You asked, recognising the name being foreign.

“My mom's name is Korean. She picked a Korean one for me too. Just to remind me we're not entirely American.” He was vaguely bitter about that. Maybe just indifferent, you told yourself. That must have been tough.

“That's interesting,” you mused, drinking some water. “How old are you?”

Your question was naive. Childlike. “I'm twenty-three. And you're…?”

“Twenty-four. Twenty-five in a couple weeks.” You smiled and he was once more lost in how radiant you looked.

Once you were finished eating, you rinsed your hands at the sink, helping him get rid of the boxes before shyly following him as he moved to the living room.

“Wow.”

“It's a bit overwhelming, I know.” He looked around, analysing the room through a stranger's eyes. “My grandma was an anthropologist, my grandpa too, though I never met him. She travelled a lot and always brought back fancy things.”

“What's this?” you asked, watching a strange fork of sorts.

Yoongi sat down and grabbed a bizarre little stick, no bigger than a pen, with a large ball at the end. He hit the fork, a soothing, metallic sound coming out of it and the box at its base, amplifying the cold dong. “It's a diapason. It gives a specific note. This one sounds like la. Or A, whatever notation you prefer. We use it to tune instruments like guitars.”

You nodded. “That's interesting. I like it.”

Yoongi chuckled. “It's very soothing, right? It resonates at a frequency that has positive effects on humans. My grandma used to play it when I needed to calm down as a baby.”

Thinking that the coarse man before you had been a baby felt baffling. “And it still relaxes you?”

“It does. But I think it's more of a reflex. I think they trained me. Like Pavlov's dog… Wait, was that Pavlov?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a giggle.

“Sometimes I think I was a strange experiment. That's what happens when you have two scientists in your home.” He shrugged with a funny grin on his face, his cheeks going puffy as he did so.

“It's okay. You lived through that. You're not doing bad for a lab rat. You could be having bald spots by now,” you joked, almost expecting him to get confused or disgusted. Instead he laughed.

His laugh was so soft. He actually looked soft, with his gums out, his cheeks puffed up, his nose curled up cutely. Yoongi was cute. Very much so.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

He blushed to his ears. “I'm a musician. And a producer.”

“Wow. That sounds cool! How does that work?” Your voice was filled with wonder, making Yoongi understand that after all it wasn't like you were dumb. You were just unashamed of not knowing things.

“I make songs. Spend too much time on the computer fixing songs for other people. And then spend a little bit of time with my instruments, going through riffs and melodies, finding little things that inspire me for longer songs or pieces.” Yoongi stopped himself from dumping all of his artistic worries over you.

“You studied at UCLA?” you asked, knowing that was the best place for a person like him.

“Actually, no. My grandfather got me into an academy in the city. I mean, my granny's boyfriend,” he corrected himself. Considering Antonio his grandpa had always come natural to him, but he'd never substituted himself for Trice's husband.

“It's so cute that she found a boyfriend. You mentioned your grandpa passed so I guess she met the guy after?” You posed the question gently, wording it accurately.

Yoongi nodded. “Yup. I was a toddler when they met.”

You hummed. “With all respect to your grandpa, I like when old people find a partner — or at least, someone meaningful to them. It brings a lot of joy and newness in their lives. Partnered old folks have a way less lonely life. And it seems they live longer too! I read a paper for a course back in college.”

Yoongi was pleased to receive confirmation of you being an old people's person. Hopefully you also hated kids so he could actually deem himself safe. “So you actually liked nursing school.”

You bobbed your head enthusiastically. “I’ve always liked the idea of working in a retirement home. Old people have so many stories and so little audience. I like staying with them, helping them write memories they can pass to their overly busy children and grandchildren. And they learn about technology, they play cards. They crochet! Isn't that amazing?!” you exclaimed with a radiant look on your face.

Yoongi realised you were a genuinely generous person. You reaching out to him wasn't just Gerry forcing you to Yoongi's place, but hopefully you needing a friend. It really seemed you could use a pal your age. “And how does that pair up with your lifeguard position?”

You shrugged. “I've always loved the beach. And splitting it with caregiving helps me from taking nursing too seriously. It helps me worry less about people… passing, you know.”

Yoongi nodded. He hadn’t thought about what it means taking care of someone day after day after day, and then suddenly they’re gone. He also thought about the different weights of a job: probably that was the same reason why it had taken him so long to work on his music while delivering piece after piece for commission. He had lost the passionate side of it.

“So, your granny's boyfriend got you into a music academy and then?”

Yoongi smiled, then he started telling you everything about that.

The two of you talked way deep in the night, the initial strangeness turning into easy chit-chat about school, life, family and work… It was almost one in the morning when you realised it was time for you to go. Once Yoongi noticed how long he’d been talking to you, he blushed and understood it was time to say goodnight, no matter how warm and welcome he felt at your side.

He accompanied you to the door, then stood on the porch, waving at you before wondering whether he should accompany you home. “You’re staying here in town, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just five minutes away from here. I have my bike.”

“You don’t want me to drive you?” He rubbed the back of his neck as he waited for your reply.

You shook your head. “I’m okay, don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

Yoongi realised the reason why he felt sad about you refusing was exclusively because he wouldn’t be able to spend more time with you. He was struggling to let go, after only a couple hours of chatting, and at least half of that being awkward acquainting with someone new.

And to further increase his struggles, he could almost hear Antonio scolding him for letting go of someone that made him feel good. “Will I see you tomorrow morning at the beach?”

You were ready to leave when you heard Yoongi’s question. It sounded vaguely insecure, as if he was testing the waters. “Come meet me at seven. I’ll be there.”

Yoongi nodded to himself. He should have asked for your number. Stupid social anxiety.

“Goodnight Yoongi!” You waved from the gate before leaving.

He stood there, arms crossed, shrinking inside his striped polo shirt, its long sleeve doing very little in keeping him warm. So unexpectedly his night had changed. He thought about the percussion riff he’d jotted down that morning around nine, laying in bed, sleepless. For all he knew, you could have possibly changed his life.

He would remember tonight forever.

The following day, Yoongi left his house at six forty-five. You had given him a when, but not an exact where. He was nervous. And he was somehow hoping that seeing you in broad daylight would somehow lessen your magic.

How wrong he was.

He waited for you at the feet of your tower, leaning against it nonchalantly while he almost ran to get there in time. Watching you arrive in sunglasses and a white sundress was definitely something. You looked like the kind of girl that could have starred in Dirty Dancing.

“Good morning, sir!” you greeted, waving.

“Stop treating me like an old man,” he complained, however you heard some irony in his voice.

“Not my fault you behave like one!” you bit back, amused and maybe a little cheeky. “Hello Yoongi,” you tried again, more calmly now that you were standing before him. “I’ll go get changed quickly so we can go on a walk.”

He nodded and looked at the horizon before him, his ears blushing at the thought that you were half naked just a few steps away. You looked so lean and fit and tall and he was… He was struggling not to let his mind run wild. After all you were just a prettily shaped woman. No more, and no less.

All the months that had passed since he’d last slept with someone weren’t a valid reason for him to think of you half naked.

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed, basically throwing yourself down the stairs and taking a few small jumps on your spot — like a golden retriever too excited about going out. You started with a jog, only to watch Yoongi’s panicked look.

You exploded with laughter. “See, I told you! You’re an old man!”

Yoongi hid his smile with a pout before catching up with a few quick steps. “Do you need to run or can you just walk?”

“I’ll walk in the water. Helps me burn more energy and work on my stamina,” you replied, entering the water to the point it reached your knees. “You can walk on the shore. Did you sleep well?”

He looked away.

“Oh, right. You work at night. So— Did you… produce?” You looked down, careful about not splashing him.

“Oh, yeah. The conversation with you was very inspirational,” he conceded. He hadn’t worked half as much in the last four weeks. Listening to the little riffs and chords hidden in your voice was like experimenting with a new genre. It was as if he was building a new theme for you. Something that signified your presence, but at the same time conveyed the fits and starts of meeting someone new, and getting to know them, and discovering something new about oneself from all the analogies and differences they could see with the other person. As much as he was composing about you, about the little bits he’d learned about you, he was in some way also composing about himself.

The process had been thrilling and once he’d finished the first, roughest draft, at dawn, the music felt so vibrant that it could properly and proudly accompany the rise of the sun. It was of course still only a draft, but the way you’d talked deep into the night, the way you’d circled around things until they’d come out right, had inspired him to give it all a try. It didn’t need to be perfect, it only needed to work. And work, in the end, it did. He only wished he had sampled a piece of your conversation — that joke about him being a lab rat… the laughs that followed. It would have been great for a skit.

“You know, I really wish I could listen to your music. I'm kind of curious about what such a quiet person considers noise worth listening to.” You looked at him. “After all, music is just very tidy noise right?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I would agree to that.” He looked at the seashells on the shore. “I'll make you a playlist. I'll include random stuff I like listening to.”

“Oh, I'd love that!” you replied enthusiastically. “We can make a playlist for our walks!”

Yoongi’s ears perked up at that: “walks”, plural, which meant you would do this again, soon. He was pleased at the way you had so casually hinted at creating a routine. He had someone to share music recommendations with. Someone who would maybe recommend pieces to him in return. He realised he was excited about this. So many new sensations, and none of that as unpleasant as he’d thought. He could get used tho this.

Once the two of you said goodbye, he realised he couldn't go to sleep. He was too excited about making a playlist and sharing it with you. Walking with you in the gentle morning sun. Hearing you laugh.

Yoongi understood: he was making a new friend.

Having walks with Yoongi became extraordinary. You started associating him with the tender colours of the shyest sunshine, and the sweet cotton scent of his shirts in the gentle morning breeze. The way his soft locks danced in the ocean air, tangling together, the way his cheeks turned into little ice cream scoops when he smiled at you as you greeted him good morning.

Likewise, Yoongi started adoring sunshine. You ended each of his nights, bringing him into the reign of soft morning light, introducing him to a brightness he'd always much preferred doing without. Truth was that his ears had become acquainted with your vintage summer bops, with the way your steps would automatically sync up with the beat of Pumped Up Kicks when the song started playing, and your little blonde baby curls would end up bouncing by the time the first chorus came around. Sometimes you looked like one of those strange horses trained to match the rhythm of music. Dressage, wasn't that?

And then, you loved his calm acoustic ballads, the relaxing guitar riffs that accompanied the rise of the sun.

Once your shared routine of morning walks was sufficiently cemented, you trained him, like a stray cat, to stick around some more after your walk, convincing him to join you for a morning snack. You always brought him iced coffee and a peach jam sandwich while you drank your aloe and matcha drink before indulging in an avocado toast. He liked your mornings as much as you did. You also probably liked each other too.

Your perfect sunny streak was tainted only by a mildly cloudy morning, during which Yoongi showed up at your tower anyway, an extra sweater on top of his long sleeved shirt. He knew you'd probably be cold.

The striped black number seemed to be big enough for you to fill it up comfortably. After all, you were half a head taller than him, and your arms were significantly longer. At least by three or four inches, he had to admit.

When you showed up, you looked drowsy, your hair was half low and you were carrying a different bag from usual. “Morning old man,” you called, placing your bag at the feet of the stairs.

“Morning, Sunny. Wait. Are those actually knitting devices in your bag? Wonder Woman ____ knits?”

“Shut up. Linda taught me. It's just something to share with the ladies at The Orchard,” you justified yourself. “We'll see if you still joke about that once you get your soft, handmade cosy sweater this winter.”

Yoongi blinked, suddenly realising his expression had been shifting to a pout. “Are you still going to be around this winter?”

You invited him upstairs, avoiding the question for now. Could you wait from September to May to see him again? Could you go so long without him?

As you picked up a half knitted torso from your bag, pressing it to his face, you realised you couldn't. You also realised you had made a naive mistake. You had thought you were domesticating a stray but in the meanwhile you had opened him your home, your heart. You had invested your time in him and that made him much more than a stray. You were giving him a forever home.

“Is this for me?” he asked innocently, gently, rubbing his face against the soft, airy fabric.

“It’s alpaca wool,” you commented drily. You already knew you would give up on your long-term dream sweater only to see him all fluffed up in the pastel mesh of colours. You smiled as he pressed it closer to his face.

“So soft,” he murmured, nuzzling up against the small piece of knitwork. The moment he opened his eyes, you realised his nose was just a tiny bit red from the chilly breeze coming from the sea, carrying a storm in its wake. His cheeks were rosy and puffy, his eyes big and dark. And his eyelashes, so dainty and insanely… flirtatious? He looked like he was seducing you for the slowest of seconds.

You looked away, cheeks aflame. “Let’s go. Before the rain comes.”

Yoongi startled at your tone, cloudy for the first time since that night when you’d known each other too little, and he’d been unforgivably too sarcastic. He followed you like a confused pet down the stairs, then grabbed his earpods and passed one to you.

You were especially thankful for the music now that your thoughts were too scattered for you to form sentences and make some conversation.

“It will rain in a bunch of minutes,” Yoongi commented. “There’s no use walking today.”

You ignored him. Would he leave if you agreed with his statement? Would he think walking was pointless, and therefore there was no reason for the two of you to spend any time together today? Too lost in trying to find a meaning to how sad you felt at the thought of being apart, you didn’t realise a raindrop had hit your nose.

The storm was coming.

An angry guitar riff came on, The Neighbourhood blaring from the earphone as Yoongi grabbed your hand. One drop followed the other, his hand around your wrist as he tugged at your arm, running fast, faster, to a speed that felt ridiculous considering how lazy he always was.

‘I’m going back to 505, if it’s a seven-hour flight or a forty-five-minute drive. In my imagination you’re waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs, and a smile…’

You ran, faster, short of breath, the music carrying you across the sand. You didn’t even realise you were trusting Yoongi completely, even as he led you past your tower, even as he kept running while the downpour broke loose, even as The Beatles came on, singing about jars by the door and lonely people, even as the morning got so dark, the sky like a purple shiner after a rowdy pub fight.

You kept running, Yoongi panting as the two of you finally recognised the fence of his house, the tower barely visible behind the thick cover of rain and mist. “Come on!” he gasped out.

You kept running until you were under his porch. “What the hell, Yoongi! Why didn’t we stop at the tower!?” you scolded him, barely alive, barely breathing — how had he worn you out like this? He was way less trained than you, and yet he’d managed to run by your side, keeping your pace, ending up winded, sure, but in way better a state than you’d thought he would be.

He shook his head, bent in two, his hands gripping his knees. “I was distracted! I wasn’t thinking!”

You shook your head, too busy pulling oxygen into your lungs to fight him back. After a few breathless minutes, you sat down on the first step of the staircase. “You knew it would rain. Why did you come?”

Yoongi felt called out all of a sudden. “I— I thought you were expecting me to come. I don’t have your number so I couldn’t text you. Or call you.” He sat down beside you, his hands pressed in between his knees. “I didn’t want you to worry or think I had forgotten.” He took in a large breath. Somehow the little effort of a confession required way more air than the makeshift marathon under the storm — it was definitely shorter than a marathon. Probably not even a tenth of it. He just knew that was the longest and the fastest he’d ever run, but you were running, and you were so majestic and he just wanted to be part of it.

Yoongi paused, gathered his courage, then murmured, “I didn’t want you to feel lonely.”

You recognised the guitar strums immediately, the song changing once more. You looked at Yoongi, Hozier’s soft voice crooning at your ear. “What about you? Were you feeling lonely?”

He looked away, too shy, too old, too used-to-it to admit it. He had no right to feel lonely when you weren’t around. He had been alone for so long, but loneliness? It had been a stranger to him until he’d learnt your name. “I don’t—”

You pushed his hair off his face, your index finger casually following the handsome curve of his jawline. “Yoongi?”

He finally turned to look at you, once more innocent in the way he seemed to seduce you. He looked so pure and for the first time you felt so desperate to taint him. You needed him to look normal and mundane and you prayed for your crush to fade, for his sinless charms to be washed away so he would show his true colours, because no man should be allowed to be perfect the way he felt perfect to you.

“Yoongi,” you whispered, your heart tied up with pining.

‘Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.’

You hadn’t realised your eyes were closed until it was too late, the lyrics making you open them only to notice Yoongi leaning towards you, his lips protruding in the most imploring pout you had ever seen.

You were ruined.

You tugged the earpod off, almost throwing it to the ground before hollering a ‘see you ‘round’ and running off in the cold rain.

Yoongi, confused, afraid, sat on his porch as he watched you disappear.

Part 2 will be out now!!

#bourbon bossa nova #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfiction #bts blog #min yoongi scenario #min yoongi imagine

59 notes · View notes

eoieopda · 1 year ago

Text

menace (pjm) — pt. iv

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 4/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Rating: M (18+) Word Count: 6k Summary: Every villain has an origin story. This is yours. AUs: Older brother’s best friend; fuck buddies that hate each other CW: Reader is AFAB & queer; sort of an omniscient POV?; angst; very self-indulgent reference to Foresight (can you spot it? 👀); and — oh, hey! some of the other tannie boys are here. A/N: We love a flashback moment :') This takes place about a year prior to the first part, fyi. Major thanks to @ressjeon & @mimikookie for fireman carrying me out of a plot spiral 💕 ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

Jeon Jungkook was half-asleep with his face propped up a slack fist when you came through the front door of the book shop like a wrecking ball in a peacoat.

The chime of the bell above the door was no match for the way you sang out to him, and neither were his unsuspecting ears. He snapped to attention so suddenly that he knocked a pile of first editions clear off the counter. He didn’t even try to catch them as they hurtled towards the floor; they’d join the other casualties he’d dropped half an hour earlier.

Namjoon could kill him for his carelessness later, if he was so inclined. Jungkook just hoped that Namjoon remembered he was helping for free — and not at all because losing a bet meant assisting his senior in preparing the soft-launch of his business. Forced altruism should result in him being cut a bit of slack, he’d decided.

“Guess what?”

The last word of your question was held like a whole note as you walked — skipped, rather — towards him. Your giddy smile was starkly contrasted by the muted, wool coat that fluttered limply as you moved. Eyeing the counter, now free of any obstacles, you hopped onto it and sat cross-legged. When Jungkook was too stunned by your sudden energy to respond, you raised your eyebrow expectantly.

Hoseok’s head poked out from the back room. Unlike Jungkook, Hoseok was present and accounted for simply because he was a good person. He wiggled his eyebrows as he asked, “Did it finally happen?”

Since you’d met him earlier that year, Hoseok had wholeheartedly subscribed to this new chapter of your love life. He’d gotten bored of your decidedly unremarkable ex-boyfriend from a few months back, and now eagerly awaited any updates that followed your break-up. You couldn’t blame him because you seemed to be hooked on the plot, too.

Jungkook was lost, but that was news to no one. Hoseok dropped the name of the unknown subject like a bomb, and now his ears were ringing. His eyes widened far enough that he feared they’d fall right out of his skull.

Before you could answer Hoseok’s initial question, Jungkook interjected, “Park Jimin? You’re joking, right?”

Dumbstruck, he glanced between you and Hoseok, like blinking rapidly enough would make his brain process the information any faster. Like repeating himself will make what he said true — what Hoseok said impossible.

“This is a joke?”

Jungkook’s expression might’ve looked firm, but his statement was far from declaratory. The unintentional, upwards inflection at the tail end of his sentence came across as judgmental as it was disbelieving. It sounded a lot like, Are you stupid?

You shrugged. Either you didn’t want to answer in earnest, or you didn’t know how to.

And yes, Jungkook did think you were being an idiot. He wasn’t necessarily wrong for looking at you that way, nudging you back towards reality. But maybe he should’ve given you a five-minute head start before he swallowed your joy whole and shat it back out. So, he swallowed the rest of his words instead.

Hoseok emerged from the back and crossed over to you and Jungkook. Once he did, he flicked the side of the youngest’s skull with a painted — albeit chipped — fingernail. Jungkook accepted it, knowing he deserved it, and he only grunted a little bit in response.

“I’m always shocked not to hear an echo when I do that, Jungkookie.” Hoseok shot you a smirk, and then immediately stuck his tongue out at Jungkook, who was glowering at him. He pressed on, “If you utilized that brain to its full potential, you’d have learned a long time ago that the heart wants what it wants.”

Ah, there’s that hopelessly romantic enabler. It was no longer any wonder why you’d swung by the shop, which was a significant distance outside the bounds of your usual commute home from your office.

“I’m just saying —” Jungkook raised his hands defensively before swatting at Hoseok, who tugged playfully at Jungkook’s ear.

The elder danced out of the younger's line of fire with a whoop. Jungkook rolled his eyes and swallowed the frustrated grumble building up in his throat.

“— That maybe getting involved with Seokjin-hyung’s best friend is a truly garbage-tier idea. Am I not allowed to point that out?”

You and Hoseok blinked back at him, then simultaneously, you both scoffed, “No.”

Hoseok smiled and scratched at your shoulder in a silent show of support before returning to whatever task he’d been working on when you came in. Jungkook was left deflated where he sat. The two of you joining forces against him had popped him like a balloon. Poor baby, the voice in his head said, sounding a lot like you.

His tone softened, and his eyes crinkled into his best attempt at a smile. He caved, as usual. “Got a hot date tonight, then, noona?”

In lieu of a verbal response, you nodded furiously, beaming. He reached up and squeezed your knee as it bounced excitedly within centimeters of his face. Then, without commenting further, he bent over to re-categorize the same novels he’d alphabetized four times already that morning.

“You’re supposed to ask for details!” Hoseok’s voice called out from the other room. “Honestly, Jungkook-ah, you need to get better at having female friends!”

With an arm full of books, Jungkook sank back down onto the wooden stool he’d previously occupied. Truly, he didn’t know why he expected anyone to ever let him live.

“I’m asking for details,” He rolled his eyes and yelled over his shoulder. When he turned back around, you were trying not to giggle. “So, uh, how the hell did this come about?”

You leaned forward and landed a smack on his shoulder, which, for the record, Jungkook did not enjoy. He didn’t enjoy what he knew of Jimin’s reputation, either.

“Could you at least try to give him a chance?” You pleaded, hands clasped in front of you in prayer. “You don’t even know him, Jungkook.”

You were right. Jungkook had never actually interacted with Jimin directly, certainly didn’t have the history with him that you did, but he’d heard a lot about him. The information itself painted a bad enough picture, but it got worse when he considered his source.

Sources, plural.

The backstory came to him through hook-ups of his that, unbeknownst to Jungkook at the outset, were rebounding off of Jimin’s rejection. Park was patient zero, Jungkook’s study had concluded, and for reasons still unknown to the younger man, Jimin left everyone in worse shape than he found them.

Don’t get him wrong, though. The unhealed part of Jungkook was at least a little grateful for the influx of needy, emotionally unavailable girls in his orbit. He was fine batting clean-up, so long as no one stuck around to call him oppa the next day.

The rest of him — the evolved part — was wary, especially when it came to you. Jungkook was a few months’ younger than you and nowhere near the helicopter sibling that your actual brother was, but he still felt protective of you. Still feared what damage Jimin could do, intentionally or otherwise; and the way your brother would make it worse.

Jungkook pulled a face that said he wasn’t likely to buy whatever you attempted to sell him. Still, he did what good dongsaengs are supposed to do: kept his fucking mouth shut and listened.

That clearly wasn’t your specialty, but hey, at least you were endearing.

“He’s sweet, Jungkookie,” you defended. “Honestly, I think my parents like him more than me and Seokjin combined.”

For a second, you smiled sheepishly. Then, you quieted for even longer. When you picked up again, your brows furrowed; and Jungkook could tell by the tone of your voice how deeply you had to dig to say any of the things you were.

They came out heavy, dropped with a thud between you like all the obscure, antique shit he’d knocked over so far that day.

“I’ve always felt like a shadow around Seokjin, you know? Everyone looks right past me; they always have. Teachers did, friends did, our parents still do.” You looked down at the fingers that fidgeted in your lap. “Jimin’s never been like that. When he’s around, I know I’m not just cellophane.”

Jungkook was well-accustomed to the way you romanticized people, like they were figures of your life’s mythology and not simply assholes off the street. That was one of the things he admired most about you, and hoped to be a little better at himself. It’s also why he continued to bite his tongue when you said:

“I have a really good feeling about this one, Jungkook.”

There was no point in arguing with you when you looked like that, all starry-eyed and hopeful. So, Jungkook demurred, “At least tell me he’s taking you somewhere nice. If you say you’re going to that dumpster bar —”

Hoseok unhelpfully interjected, “Oh, Yang Daehyun’s place? I think that’s where Yoongi-hyung met —”

“I will barf right on this counter,” Jungkook finished, punctuating his warning by rapping his knuckles against the wood below.

Jimin was pacing.

He stopped knowing what to do with his hands a few hundred steps ago, so he gave up and shoved them into the back pockets of his jeans. As he circled, he shot Taehyung a panicked look that went nowhere fast. Whatever Webtoon he was reading was, apparently, far more important than his friend’s mental health and well-being.

Even without a captive audience, Jimin couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been on a thousand dates —”

Taehyung interjected with a roll of his eyes, “That’s an egregious mischaracterization.”

Jimin pulled one hand out of his pocket and held it up, silently begging his friend to save the slut-shaming for later. Though the tone of his voice indicated that he was getting there, Taehyung still wasn’t annoyed enough to pull his eyes off the screen of his phone. He missed Jimin’s plea entirely, stayed unbothered.

Still pacing, Jimin rambled, “And I’ve never gotten nervous. I’ve had to make speeches at massive conferences —”

For the first time, Taehyung glanced up over the top of his phone. A shit-eating grin tugged at his mouth. With a flexed eyebrow, his words nudged Jimin right in the ribs. “Remind me again how wearing a suit and getting day-drunk in a hotel ballroom is a conference?”

Jimin’s raised hand folded so that his middle finger was on full display. He didn’t stop his movements, though, insistent on soliloquizing despite the interruption: “— and none of that shit has ever bothered me, but now my fucking palms are sweating, and I don’t know how to —”

With a put-upon sigh, Taehyung poured himself from the couch to his feet and stood directly in Jimin’s well-worn path. Assuming his typecast role as obstacle, he gripped Jimin’s shoulders and — without any resistance, whatsoever — backed his friend towards the couch.

“You’re giving me anxiety,” He scolded, earning a disgruntled sigh from Jimin as he forced him to sit. “You wanted my attention; now, you have it. Just — give the pedometer a fucking rest, and listen, alright?”

It was microscopic, but Jimin’s nod in response was enough of a green light for Taehyung. The former knew the latter was no good at pep talks, and yet, there they both were. Taehyung had to wonder if it was too early for a stiff drink.

“Mechanically, it’s simple. You’ve done the hard part in asking this girl out,” Taehyung conceded calmly. Then, he cracked wide open; he couldn’t help it. He snorted, “Which — I’m sorry — is still wild to me. I didn’t even know you knew how to do that, for real. Did you get body-snatched or something? Who the fuck are you?”

He almost dodged the hand that flew out to smack him.

“Jesus — okay! Don’t blame me for leaving Monogamous Jimin off my bingo card.” Taehyung threw his hands up, signaling a ceasefire. “Just go, buy her dinner, and make googly eyes at her. This is not a crisis.”

This gave Jimin pause. His brows furrowed as he chewed his cheek, working to digest Taehyung’s words. With an uncharacteristically small voice, he eventually asked, “What if she doesn’t like the food?”

This was the straw that broke Taehyung’s back. He had to pause for a moment, talk himself out of walking out that fucking door and never coming back. Sure, it was his apartment, but that was irrelevant. If Jimin was intent on being this much of a baby, he could keep it.

“Would this girl have suggested the restaurant if she didn’t?” Taheyung challenged.

He crossed his arms indignantly, waiting on an answer he knew — on some level — he’d never get. Jimin shrunk more with every second that passed in silence.

“Would she have agreed to go anywhere with you if she didn’t want to?” Then, with a smirk, Taehyung amended, “Well, maybe she wouldn’t have if she knew you were going to spiral like this.”

“I’m not spiraling,” Jimin countered meekly. Then, he thought better of it. There was no other way to describe it, and he knew it, as much as he hated it whenever Taehyung proved himself right. “Okay, fine. I’m mildly unzipped, but I walked into a minefield on purpose, so… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything, but his eyebrow raised quizzically.

It was, frankly, impossible to try and keep up with Jimin’s calendar of dick appointments. While Jimin didn’t make it a point to kiss and tell, he didn’t keep secrets, either — not from Taehyung, at least. He normally folded like laundry when pressed.

This time, for whatever reason, he’d kept his mouth shut. It was the most tight-lipped Taehyung had ever seen him be, and that hint was the closest thing to a reveal he’d gotten so far. Which, for the record, was a terrible sign.

A sign of the apocalypse, as far as Taehyung could guess.

Jimin whined and slapped his hands over his face. As he dragged them upwards, he pushed his hair back, paused with his fingers still tangled in his strands. His elbows dug into his thighs while he stared absently at the rug, as if he was waiting for it to swallow him whole.

Oh, so, this is bad bad, huh?

“This is not a thing I want to fuck up. I can’t fuck this up,” he admitted, more to himself than Taehyung. Another beat. “And I know I’m going to. Honestly, I think I already have.”

Jimin looked so beaten down that Taehyung could feel it in his own bones. Lead-laced quiet settled on his shoulders, forced him to drop onto the cushion next to Jimin, whose unblinking stare still stuck to the floor.

And they stayed that way, neither one of them moving, until Jimin dragged his hands back down from his hair. Rubbing harshly at his face, he did the best he could to physically scrub that nagging, needling feeling off his skin.

“Is there any good way to tell Seokjin that I asked out his sister?”

Oh, fuck.

Taehyung swallowed hard. “Doubt it. Maybe pick out a burial plot first?”

You’d tried on four different versions of the same outfit and wondered how you’d acquired so many fucking turtlenecks.

After too much time deliberating, you opted for outfit number five — one of four (4) black sweaters hanging in your closet — and tucked the hem into your high-waisted skirt. As you snaked a belt around your waist, you assessed yourself in the mirror, frowning at your hair.

Of the two hours you’d spent getting ready, half that time was spent toiling over the state of it. Over and over, you asked yourself: down and limp, or up and messy? Neither option was good enough, but the face of your watch whispered that you were running out of time.

In fact, it screamed that you should’ve taken the time to wash your hair earlier, instead of relying on half a can of dry shampoo to carry you through yet another day.

You heaved a sigh and stepped even closer to the mirror to check for any lingering imperfections. The pimple on your chin was, thankfully, invisible under the layers of concealer you’d applied. The tinted lip balm had stayed where it was supposed to, too, which was a miracle, given the number of nervous sips you’d taken from your nearby wine glass.

Unfortunately, your hair was doing a lot of things, and none of them were good.

You grimaced.

If this was as good as it was going to get, why couldn’t it be just a little bit better?

You glanced down at your watch again and saw that it was 6:45 PM.

Shit.

During your sprint to your front door, you made sure to thank yourself for telling Jimin you’d meet him at the restaurant; one of few responsible choices you’d deigned to make lately. If you’d agreed to be picked up as he originally offered, he’d have been sitting in his car outside, dying of boredom and regret, while you turned your closet inside out.

Black tights caused you to slide across the hardwood when you neared your front entrance. By sheer force of will alone, you stayed standing, every muscle in your body tensing. Huffing out a relieved breath, you wasted no time in choosing between near-identical pairs of Chelsea boots — seriously, why are you like this? — before shoving your feet into them and grabbing your coat from the hook near the door.

With force, you snaked your arms into the holes, jerked the front door open, and stepped face-first into a cold so cruel, it bit your cheeks without mercy.

“Motherfucker,” you hissed, hands already frigid and aching as you struggled to lock the door behind you.

Winters in the city were mild, more often than not; but this cold snap was making you snap, and part of you regretted agreeing to leave the house in the first place. Was anybody worth braving this frozen hellscape?

Don’t do that, you admonished yourself. Don’t act like you don’t want this.

The tears forming in your wind-whipped eyes would soon be the least of your worries, thanks to the boot heel that failed to find purchase on the slick surface of your driveway. Instead of your stinging cheeks, it was your tailbone that demanded immediate attention, having taken the full impact of your fall.

You yelped, more so out of surprise than pain, “Motherfucker.”

Colder than before and with a wet spot soaking through the fabric of your skirt, you rubbed gingerly at your aching ass and scrambled to your feet.

It certainly didn’t help, but it didn’t hurt, either: You growled at the ground, “Get absolutely fucking fucked,” as if it might animate and apologize to you.

The scowl didn’t leave your face as you penguin-walked carefully to your car, ripped the driver’s side door open, and dumped yourself unceremoniously behind the wheel. The weight of your body against the seat only meant that the chilly dampness of your outfit intensified. Worse, you had the sneaking suspicion that your clumsiness had caused the back of your tights to run.

Caving to self-indulgence, you threw your head back against the seat and permitted yourself one (1) petulant, childish whine before re-committing to acting your age.

“Motherfucker!”

The drive wasn’t as treacherous as your walk to the car had been, though the city’s recent rainy spell left enough ice in its wake to keep those far smarter than you off the roads. To your surprise, the streets were clear once you made it downtown, with very few people meandering the sidewalks. It all felt ominous, parking in a ghost town, but you ignored that apprehension long enough to score a metered spot directly outside the restaurant.

Maybe the universe is making it up to me, you thought as you slipped out of your seatbelt, out the door, and off the street. Maybe good things do happen to mediocre people.

Stepping inside the restaurant, the warmth enveloped you so sweetly, you nearly moaned. The fireplace crackling off to the side was meant to create ambiance, but it nudged the primal part of your brain that yearned to curl up in front of it. Shaking your head to clear those feral thoughts, your narrowed eyes scanned the room for any sign of Jimin.

It didn’t strike you as odd when you didn’t spot him. Jimin was a lot of things, but punctual had never — ever — been one of them. You couldn’t have reasonably expected to find him, anyways, not at your usual, early arrival.

After being informed of your party of two, the host led you to a small bistro table in the far corner. They bowed before leaving you to your own devices, giving you the space to fuss blindly with your appearance before Jimin would eventually walk in. No matter how many times you smoothed your fingers over your flyaways, you still felt their abject refusal to play along.

He’s seen you with braces, you reminded yourself. He was there for your tragic, dresses-over-jeans phase in the mid-aughts. He knows what your yearbook photos looked like, and he still wants to take you out.

You turned ever so slightly toward the door and crossed one leg over the other. Then, you placed one elbow on the white tablecloth, rested that hand delicately in the space below your jaw. It was your best approximation of desirable nonchalance, and you were sure you either looked ridiculous or extremely chic. Internally, you crossed your fingers and prayed it was the latter.

Jimin made plans with one Kim and wound up burdened by the other.

Under normal circumstances, it wasn’t a problem when Seokjin showed up on Jimin’s doorstep without warning, or let himself inside. It wasn’t uncommon for Jimin to come home from somewhere and find Seokjin already there, sitting on his couch and shouting at the television. Jimin’s life had always looked like that, for as long as he could remember. Like being an only child didn’t mean he lacked a brother.

That thought made nausea swirl in his stomach as he glanced between his watch, his couch, and the person lounging on it.

For once, Jimin was committed to being where he needed to at the time he was supposed to. A part of that promise was based on the fact that he was too eager to wait; but the majority of his dedication ran deeper than that. He was dead-set on proving to you that he could honor plans — that, when it came to you, he was a person that would show up.

And then your brother’s car blocked him in his driveway and kept him from leaving an hour early, like he’d told himself he would. Just in case.

Trapped, Jimin told himself he still had time. He could still beat you to the restaurant, still be there to pull out your chair the way your father always did for your mother.

Jimin knew that, outwardly, you always rolled your eyes at gestures like that — what’s the implication, that I can’t do it myself? — but he registered the way fondness twitched at the corner of your mouth. He caught all of those micro-expressions, studied them quietly from the other side of your family’s dining room table for — shit, two decades?

You never caught him staring, though, not once.

He suspected that you’d gotten used to being overlooked. Maybe, he figured, you stopped bothering to check if anyone glanced your way in the rare moments where you piped up. Jimin stayed quiet, for the most part, because the older boy sitting next to him picked up the slack your parents had dropped when they dropped you.

Seokjin saw everything, was everything — to everyone. Jimin owed him more than anyone else for the way he dragged Jimin through school by the scruff of his neck. Seokjin’s nagging forced Jimin to buckle down and graduate, and once he did, Seokjin kept pushing. He hooked Jimin up with a job at his consulting firm, kept his toes in line long enough for Jimin to grow the fuck up.

Shit.

Would he have gotten anywhere in life without your brother?

Your brother spoke for the first time in a minute, and the sudden addition of his voice made Jimin stop fidgeting with his fingers in his lap.

“You look nice,” Seokjin said, having finally, actually perceived his friend on the other side of the living room.

He sounded surprised to find Jimin there — or maybe, he was just surprised to see him dressed up for once. Suspicion caused his eyes to narrow, but it was peak shithead behavior that made him smirk. “Big plans tonight, Jiminie?”

Jimin was this close to throwing up all over his lap. He clamped his jaw shut, offering a nod instead of a verbal response.

He needed to spit it out. He needed to rip the bandage off and deal with the situation on the front end because he knew how fucked it would be to try to fix it in the aftermath. If he could float the idea now — ease Seokin into it, give him fair warning — then they’d likely be fine, right?

Jimin picked at his cuticles. He was unable to stop himself, even when he remembered you — years ago, after elbowing him in the ribs — telling him it was a bad habit. His heart did a stupid little somersault at the memory, though his anxiety squeezed his lungs with a lot more force. He swallowed, throat gravelly.

“Yeah, actually.”

It surprised him when the words slipped out, so much so that he blinked in stunned silence for a beat.

Seokjin capitalized on the quiet without knowing what he’d derailed. He scoffed, “I hope they’re not with Chan’s sister. From what I heard, you’re lucky he didn’t make you swallow your teeth.”

Oh.

“What exactly did you hear?”

Jimin did his best to keep the anger out of his tone, but he wasn’t confident that he succeeded. What he was, was sick of that goddamn narrative. It spilled over each sphere of his life, and the stain it left was ugly, even if it wasn’t deserved. Still, he maintained that a person doesn’t need to be a saint to be a decent human being.

Didn’t that count for anything?

Every single person he’d ever fucked around with was a placeholder; and every single one of them was told, right out of the gate, that nothing was coming out of whatever it was they did together. He made his position clear from the beginning — every time — and he didn’t let a single person get closer to him until they confirmed that they had no expectations.

Didn’t grab drinks, didn’t share meals, didn’t spare a touch unless they knew what they were signing up for: A dead-end, ultimately, but a nice trip.

They all said they understood, but they never actually did. Hurt their own feelings by exaggerating their place in his life, cried and talked shit about him when he tried to remind them where they stood. He wasn’t responsible for their reaction; he was transparent. Cellophane.

Reality notwithstanding, everyone looked at Jimin like he was intentionally leaving a trail of casualties behind him. And, really, what was he supposed to do about it, if he’d only ever been honest?

If he didn’t find somewhere to be — someone to be with — his twenties would look just like his teens: him, holed up in his room alone; him, with his fingers itching to call you up; him, chickening out the second he felt brave enough to pick up the phone.

He reached the big age of twenty-seven before he stopped running away from you.

Seokjin said it lightly and with a smirk, but it hit Jimin square in the chest. “I heard that you’re a menace.”

This wasn’t the first time you’d shown up unannounced on Jungkook’s doorstep. In fact, you’d done it so many times, you’d both lost count.

When he answered the door all those times before, you never looked like you did now — like you’d spent half an hour crying in your car but were pretending you hadn’t. He immediately clocked the way your mascara had clumped ever so slightly on your bottom lashes, but he followed your lead and pretended he hadn’t. Instead, he ushered you inside while the corners of his lips pulled down into a frown.

You expected to find Hoseok on his couch, and you were faintly disappointed when his usual spot was empty.

Oh, you remembered, it’s only 8:00.

Every Friday night was movie night for the three of you, but it never started until Hoseok’s studio hours ended at 9:30. Part of you was relieved to have beaten him here, though you felt guilty about it. He may have been more excited about your budding relationship with Jimin than you were, and you knew you couldn’t handle the disappointed look he’d try and fail to hide.

You could, however, handle whatever “I told you so” Jungkook was likely to hit you with.

You let Jungkook guide you into the corner of the sectional that you normally occupied on nights like this. Well, on the nights you didn’t have plans — or, more specifically, the ones where your plans actually came to fruition.

Slumping dejectedly into the plush cushions, you tugged at the throw blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. The heavy fabric hit your lap with a muffled thump, but within seconds, it was draped over the back half of your head and both your shoulders.

Jungkook blinked at you as if he was trying not to laugh. “You — uh,” He missed his objective by a mile and snorted slightly, “You look like a little wizard with the —” He gestured over at you, and when he couldn’t recall the final word of his joke, he began snapping his fingers. “The — umm —”

“Cloak,” You mumbled with a sniff.

He snapped his fingers one last time, then brandished a single finger-gun at you. “That’s the one.”

You wanted to give him the laugh he’d earned, but you felt too crushed to be light-hearted. The amused twinkle in his eyes disappeared, and instead, they creased with concern. His voice was gentle, careful.

“Didn’t go as well as you hoped, huh?”

“It didn’t go at all,” You wiped roughly at your cheek with the back of your blanket-coated hand, but it was no use. You’d been caught red-eyed and red-handed.

“He didn’t show. I waited an hour, but then the host said he needed the table. All those people watched me wait there, alone — only to get up, alone — because people with actual dates had to sit down. Don’t think I’ve ever been so fucking humiliated in my life.”

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched so tightly, you could see the emerging vein twinge in his neck. He was wracking his brain for something soft to say to you, you knew, but all he could come up with was:

“Give me his address. He and I need to have a chat.”

You sniffled again and shook your head; he pressed further. “Seriously, I’m going to knock him on his ass. What the fuck is wrong with this kid?”

“Jungkook,” you started, though he cut you off before you could finish.

“Don’t Jungkook me. That’s bullshit, and you didn’t deserve it.” He snapped. When your eyes widened at his terseness, he gave your knee an affectionate squeeze and sighed, “I’m sorry. I just —”

The more he mulled it over, the angrier he got. His tone switched mid-sentence.

“— He didn’t even call?”

You shook your head before dropping it to rest against Jungkook’s shoulder. Quietly, you admitted, “Left me on read when I started asking what was happening. Screened my calls, too, I think.”

Thankfully, you were only aware of how pathetic you sounded; you didn’t have to see how pathetic you looked. You could see Jungkook, though, out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t spend much time around Seokjin, but the identical way anger made their eyes go dark was uncanny.

“I’m choosing violence, I swear to God,” he said through gritted teeth.

You offered, “The unhealed part of me left a pretty cruel voicemail, if that does anything for you.”

His eyes flicked over to the corner, where he’d dumped his gear after his recreational team’s hockey game earlier that week. He joined in the first place to let off steam, he’d told you, but it clearly wasn’t enough. His anger rolled off of him in waves, warmed you next to him from the outside in.

You rolled your eyes half-heartedly. “Violence isn’t the answer, Jungkook. What do you want me to do, take that stick and beat him with it until he apologizes?”

He didn’t answer, and that didn’t sit well with you. You were about to call him out on his alarming behavior, but he shook off whatever took hold of him, and looked back at you. Noting the way his jaw still clenched, you nudged him with your elbow until his posture relaxed; and he rested his cheek on the top of your head.

The two of you sat like that, silently, for several minutes before his grand plan came to him so suddenly that he jolted. The unexpected movement caused your heart to skip, caused his hand squeeze yours excitedly.

“You know what’ll hurt more than a hockey stick?”

You scoffed, confident that you’d guessed where his train of thought had sped off to, “Chaining him to the back of your motorcycle and driving off into the sunset?”

For a brief second, you saw Jungkook’s eyes light up. To your surprise, he didn’t stop to consider your absurd proposal, instead flying right past it.

“The only thing I can think of that hurts more than being stood up, is getting strung along.”

His explanation came at a frantic pace, but you visibly struggled to keep up with his genius. He patted the back of your hand eagerly, as if to say, check this shit out.

“How many times have you complained to me that the dudes you fuck don’t give a shit about you? That everything’s always about sex, and it makes you feel like garbage?”

Jesus Christ.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “When you said you were choosing violence, I didn’t think you meant me.”

Jungkook breezed past you with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Revenge is best served cold, right? So, be cold.”

You looked pointedly at him, sharp enough to stab him, but he beat you to the punch: “I know, it’s straight from Jeon Jungkook’s asshole playbook. I know. It’s an objectively, unquestionably horrible thing to do to someone, but nothing gets someone’s attention like ignoring them completely.”

Clearly, he wasn’t getting the reaction he wanted from you. He shifted away from your side to sit up on his knees, facing you. From there, he gestured wildly with his hands, as if additional emphasis was what you needed to buy in.

“You can get his attention, have him trailing after you like a stray dog, and then you can slam the door in his face.” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows, beyond pleased with himself. “Ouch.”

You chewed thoughtfully on your bottom lip as you processed Jungkook’s master plan. It was diabolical and, more importantly, the complete antithesis of how you’d decided to move through the world.

Your heart was always pinned to the cuff of your sleeve because you chose to put it there, to let people in, let them see you. For as long as you’d known Jimin, you wanted to let him in. Wrote it in your fucking diary as a kid, praying that neon, gel ink could manifest it. Wasted wishes on it every year when you blew out your birthday candles, while he was off in the next room with Seokjin. Hoped that, eventually — someday — he’d see you looking up at him.

And then it happened.

Everything you wanted fell right where you could reach it. Your casual texts back and forth turned into late night phone calls. In turn, those turned to video chats, into plans. Then, he asked you to dinner, and you gushed to all your friends that he was nothing like what they’d heard about him.

How fucking stupid you must have sounded.

The anger churned in your stomach like acid, and it threatened to burn a hole right through you.

Jungkook was right.

You’d always been committed to being whole-hearted, and it was exhausting to keep gluing yourself back together every time you broke. So, if someone was going to fall to pieces this time, it wasn’t going to be you.

“You have to be careful, though. If you get in too deep, you’ll just end up hurting yourself.”

Jungkook’s voice crashed through the maelstrom in your mind, startling you.

He continued his warning, “You cannot catch feelings while executing this kind of operation — trust me.”

“And how do I go about avoiding that?” You asked.

“You have to have rules.”

likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

tagging: @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @jihopesjoint @cyanide-mustard @xjoonchildx @bbyorchid @persphonesorchid @quarter-life-crisis2 @zelchena @withluvjm @firesighgirl @whatthefsposts @iadelicacy @chimmisbae @cowboylikeyoongi @sailoryooons @axialitae @ugh-yoongi @minholykingofkorea @kookstempo @gimmethatagustd @Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhintothevoid @mgthecat

want to be on my permanent bts taglist? sign up here.

145 notes · View notes

ts19009 · 2 years ago

Text

BTS FIC REC'S: PART 6

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: September 4th, 2023)

Jungkook

order up | jjk (waiter!jungkook x customer!reader) @ressjeon

my euphoria | jjk [fake dating au ; ceo jjk x florist oc] @moyochu

The Broken Vow (manipulation, yandere, hospitals, divorce, mentions of death, angst,) @lleldey

game over (streamer/gamer!au) @ressjeon

the road to radiant | jjk (m) (fluff, angst, smut, gamer!au, streamer!au, rivals to friends to lovers!au) @kookskingdom

The Language of Flowers (Hanahaki AU) @justimajin

dance with the devil | jjk (angst, royalty - bridgerton vibes, childhood friends to enemies to ?luvrs?) @alphabetboyluvr

Not in the Way You Think (ChildHoodFriendsToLovers!AU, NonIdol!AU, VirginReader!AU, BachelorJK!Au, Fuck-Boy JK, Virgin Reader) @jungkookstatts

Seven Days Masterlist | JJK (nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader, non-idol au, brother's friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut) @hisunshiine

cool with you | jeon jungkook (strangers to friends to lovers. smut. afab!reader [she/her] x neighbor!jk) @kooktrash

Sour (ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, BOXER AU, DANCE, AU SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST) @thvhoe

champagne problems | jeon jungkook (groom!jungkook x wedding planner!reader) @daegustae

we keep this love - j.jk (fluff, angst (5k, lots of pining and f2l)) @namfinessed

Taehyung

can’t take my eyes off of you (one night stand, smut, pinch of fluff) @mrworldwideshoulders

Crazy for You | kth (best friend’s older brother to lovers, a little bit of fake dating trope, idol!au, angst, smut, fluff, snippets of life) @oddinary4bts

best friend’s best friend (best friend!heir!jeongguk x heiress!reader x best friend’s best friend!heir!taehyung) @ktheist

all you want | kim taehyung (rich ceo!kth x rich student!reader) @kooktrash

Seducing the Villain 1 [Villain!Taehyung x Reader x Noble!BTS] @helenazbmrskai

Page Turner (M) | KTH (Kim Taehyung/ Reader, Teacher!Tae/ Librarian!Reader) @gukslut

Exchanging Heat (M) | KTH (Korean exchange/visiting student!Taehyung x (slight) tsundere!reader) @jinfizz

unconditionally || kth (ex-husband!taehyung x female reader ➼ genre: angst | fluff | hurt/comfort | smut | divorce au | exes to lovers au | parents au) @sugakookitty

tolerate it masterlist (heavy angst, one-sided love, forced marriage, infidelity, smut) @archivedkookie

entangled spidey!jungkook x fem reader, venom!taehyung x fem reader (romance, smut, love triangle) @caelesjjk

(re)starting over again | kth; masterlist (baker!taehyung x nurse!reader, amnesia au) @httpknjoon

the art of obsession | kim taehyung (dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]) @kooktrash

lace & luxury | kim taehyung (sugar daddy!taehyung x exotic dancer!reader [she/her, female anatomy], taehyung aged up) @kooktrash

Seokjin

Knocked (Streamer!Seokjin x f. Reader) @sailoryooons

a human touch, part 2, final (robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, smut (NSFW, 18+)) A@snackhobi

On The Ropes (KSJ x F!Reader) (ex-boxer!Seokjin x lawyer!reader (ft. boxer!Jungkook) genres/au/rating: angst, smut, infidelity!AU, 18+) @raplinesmoejon

194 notes · View notes

jeonjcngkook · 3 years ago

Text

150 on the dash | jjk (m)

➵ pairing: jungkook x female!reader

➵ genre / au: 18+, smut, teensy angst, loosely based off the lyrics ohmami by chase atlantic ft maggie lindemann

➵ word count: 10,400

➵ summary: you’re looking for a bit of quick fun and he’s looking for a quick getaway. both with a different need for speed and power, it’s the perfect worst pairing to rope yourself into.

➵ warnings or possible kinks: dom!jungkook • sub!reader • bratty! reader • mentions of alcohol • reckless driving • dangerous car antics • messy kissing • grinding • love bites • breast play • hair pulling • fingering • suggestive sex mentions • using one man to get another man • dirty talk • use of derogatory names (slut, whore, cocksleeve) • unprotected sex • exhibitionism • masturbating (f) • stroking • brief handjob • oral (m & f receiving) • face fucking • voyeurism • sex in an unrealistic place • sex on a very expensive object • choking • sir kink • size kink • belly bulging •

➵ a/n: special thanks to my gal@chateautae & @missgeniality for betaing this, w/o you i wouldnt be this happy over it. @playmetheclassics for not only being my hype woman, but offering the best support and betaing too. tysm for everything you did for me in this story! @opaljm & @ressjeon for reading over when it was in its process n being super supportive. & lastly my @kimtaehyunq for not only the prettiest banner i think i have ever seen but for once again being my rock from start to finish with this one.

➵ note2: this was meant to be finished and released for december 24th so im sorry for the wait, didnt plan on catching covid but we are finally here after 4 months of back and forth on this fic, its finally out.

➵ listen: oh mami by chase atlantic ft maggie lindemann

➵ masterlist | feedback

taglist: @withlovedaisygirl @phasedkth @swaggyjules @kookoobutter

Your skin is warm all over as you allow yourself to be pulled towards the bar at the sight of another round of drinks. A colourful kaleidoscope of vibrant strobe lights fills the dark room in an array of vivid blues, purples, and reds. You push through a sea of bodies, pressed up together, writhing and grinding upon each other. The heady smell of cheap perfume, sweat, and alcohol mixed invade your senses.

You feel at home surrounded by your friends in the crowded space. It’s the one place you know you can come and blow off some steam from a gruesome week of classes and studying. The music is loud as the DJ plays hot remixes and track after track of current hits — the beat vibrating across the floor underneath your heels and through your body as you wait at the bar, hoping to catch the attention of Jimin, the bartender.

“The usual?” Jimin flashes you a smile from behind the counter. The white lights behind him that are used to show off the array of different spirits illuminate his pale skin perfectly as he whips up your drink. It’s almost embarrassing how often you frequent this club. The club’s staff recognises you, and your drink order is known by memory without even having to ask.

Nodding in his direction, you gather the money you need to pay for your drinks, “Am I that predictable?” you joke.

“I just remember the drinks of all the pretty girls that turn up four times a week,” Jimin quips back, poking fun at you.

You roll your eyes back with a chuckle, “Oh haha, aren’t you just hilarious.”

Jimin hands you the fruity concoction with a wink. It’s pretty. Fizzy oranges and yellows swirl around the glass, decorated with a sugar rim and a plastic umbrella on top with a shot of tequila on the side. “Here, this one’s on me,” he kindly refuses your money.

Taking the shot glass from off the bar counter, you quickly swallow the bitter drink. The slight burn runs down your throat, and you welcome it with a smile. Dropping the shot glass, you swap it out for the cocktail and shoot him a wink, “I owe you.”

You lean yourself back against the countertop of the sticky bar and continue to scan the room in search of a bit of fun for the night. With your advantage of standing at the bar, it gives you an elevated level of the club, a fantastic view of your surroundings to watch and judge the strangers in front of you and your group of friends scattered around.

Some are on the middle of the dancefloor, dancing together with drinks in their hands and smiles on their faces, while others had found their companions. Some just sit at tables laughing and enjoying their night with newfound friends.

Who are you kidding? The best outcome would be finding someone to take you home for the night.

You keep an eye out for someone who tickles your attention, lazily sipping on your drink, making sure to stick out your tongue a little more than usual—the ice in the glass melting into the alcohol results in watering it down ever so slightly.

Throwing the rest of the drink back, you place the empty glass back on the bar top and inspect the time on your phone. 01.33 am. It’s still early. You lift your gaze from your phone, and that’s when you see him.

He leans back in the booth with both arms resting against the top of the leather material, two different girls hanging off either side of him. Cuddling into his ribs and placing their hands all over his thighs, he holds a glass with a clear liquid inside — vodka, most likely.

The beautiful stranger doesn’t appear to be fazed by their hand movements at all as he continues to be deep in a conversation with another man, sitting at the opposite side of the booth.

He stands out in this room full of strangers. His hair is styled where the black strands look wet yet still full of volume at the roots, showing off his gorgeous face. The need for your fingers to run through the strands and pull suddenly courses through you. His jaw structure is striking and seems dangerously intimidating. It also allows you to get a good look at each ear decorated in sparkling jewels. A thick heavy silver link chain adorns his neck and rests almost too perfectly against his clavicles. Just looking at him brings tingles to you skin, just arouses you

The outfit he was sporting was almost mouth-watering. Tight and fully defined. The long black t-shirt had a deep v neckline, exposing the top of his pectorals which you can tell are in shape at a glance.

He looks like danger and sin.

So far, you have only seen his side profile, but the way his jawline clenches and eyes seem to lock intently on his friend makes him gorgeous, to say the very least.

“Can I get you another one of those?”

Taking your eyes off the man at the other end of the club, you turn your face to the left to be met with a young man with onyx permed hair and wide and dark brown eyes - they almost look inhuman.

Your eyes trail down his body, taking the rest of him in. He had sharp and defined features gracing his face. His lips were full, perfectly pink and plump. The zebra print bandana on his head wrapped purposely to keep the hair out of his face and a matching flowery black and white shirt with the first few buttons undone to reveal finely definitely clavicles.

He’s hot.

But he isn’t quite the stranger across the room. He looks far too occupied with his friend and clingy girls anyway.

You smile salaciously at him as you run your tongue across your teeth, “What makes you think I wanna let you buy me a drink?”

He dips his head towards your ear so you can hear him over the music, “What’s the matter, babe? Can’t a guy buy a cute girl a drink?”

“A guy can buy me a drink all he wants,” you state matter of factly, “what I wanna know is why it should be you?”

He looks at you as if trying to figure out the answer you want to hear. “I guess I’m looking for a little something worthwhile, I suppose.”

You cock your head a little to the side, “Worthwhile in what way?

“Why don’t you let me buy you a drink and find out?”

You contemplate his proposal for a moment, looking back to where you found the attractive stranger but coming up short. He wasn’t there anymore.

“Bummer,” you sulk to yourself. With a heavy sigh, you unlock your phone once more to look at the time that reads 01.37 am.

This guy is good enough for the night.

“What’s your name?” you ask.

“Taehyung,” he winks, “And yours?”

“My name is whatever you want it to be, handsome.”

Taking that as the green light, Taehyung turns back to the bar and orders you both a drink. You decide to opt for something a little stronger, so request a vodka mixture. Handing you the drink, Taehyung leads you to a dark corner of the nightclub, his hand resting on the small of your back as he makes small talk with you, trying to get to know you a little more.

The conversation carries on and branches off to other meaningless topics. Was there a point in this? You were only entertaining him so you could get laid. You bought each other more drinks, and you can feel yourself getting quite buzzed and braver. As the chat continues, you realise that he was reasonably pleasant and made you laugh.

“Wanna dance?” Taehyung chirps up. You nod back in response.

Taehyung takes you by the hand and leads you to the middle of the crowd, where the two of you are eventually swallowed by the masses. He places his hands on your hips and guides your movements against him. You swing your arms over his neck and pull him down towards you, his head resting against yours. Your hair sways back and forth with his movements as you grind into him to the loud beat, and he shares a sexy grin with you.

His grip on your hips tightens when you gently drag his head further down and plant a kiss on his lips. The kiss is nice. There is a remnant taste of alcohol and mint from what you can only presume is the gum he was chewing earlier, coating his lips as you slip your tongue into his mouth. You moan into the kiss, letting him know that you were undoubtedly enjoying it.

You break the liplock and smile at him when you see that his lips now share the same red-tinted gloss upon your lips. You turn yourself in his arms and flutter your eyes shut as you move back to grinding yourself against him to the techno beats playing from the DJ Booth, enjoying the feeling of Taehyung getting hard underneath you all from a simple bit of grinding on your behalf.

Eventually, opening your eyes, you see him again. Standing at a table in the far corner of a dark space, much as the one Taehyung had you in earlier. This time though, he has your eyes set on you. You catch him in an intense stare, not tearing your eyes off each other for a single moment. The way he stares you down is intense, the exhilaration adding to the alcohol in your veins.

Intent on keeping his attention, your hands slip up and back around Taehyung’s neck. You tug softly at the hair fraying the nape of his neck. Taehyung seems to understand your silent request. Pulling your back flush against his chest, he dips his head to start planting little kisses across your neck. You’re aware you shouldn’t be using Taehyung like this, but if it means that you were going to get what you want, and what you wanted was staring directly at you, then you’re going to do anything you can to get it.

You grind on Taehyung and let your fingers roam along your body, Taehyung’s lips attached to your neck, blissfully unaware of your disinterest in him. Your fingertips graze every inch of unclothed skin as a smug smile makes its way onto your face. Daring yourself to go further, you sneak your fingers between your legs, uncaring of anyone else around you barring this sexy stranger who is watching. Your digits make light contact with your folds, and your mouth falls open at the realisation of how wet you are.

Continuing to put on a show, you part your lips as a moan breaks out, egging Taehyung to continue his ministrations on your neck. You run your tongue across your lips salaciously to the hot stranger across the room and watch as his eyes narrow at you.

“Excuse me, I need to go to the restroom,” you announce, pulling yourself out of Taehyung’s grasp, having had enough of teasing the mystery man across the room.

You almost feel bad for leaving Taehyung, but your interest has now been piqued once again by the man you had your eyes on from the start

You tug your dress back down slightly as you make your way over to him, making sure to sway your hips, feeling pride swell in you when you observe his gaze locked on the way your body moves towards him. You finally face him, and with your heels on, you find that you don’t stand overly far off his height.

“If you stared at me any harder, I’d think you fancied me,” he teases.

“You must have been staring just as much to know I was staring in the first place,” you rebut with a smirk.

Awaiting a response, he comes up short at a loss for words. He’s not used to women being so confident in his presence. Usually, women are timid and hide so easily. They don’t typically approach him, as you demonstrated. Being around you was refreshing, and he found your relatively unperturbed attitude incredibly sexy.

You reach for the small candy bowl placed on the table and pull out a lollipop, quickly unwrapping the plastic from the hardened sugar top and place it in your mouth, letting the sweet, tangy cherry taste fill your taste buds almost immediately. Your glossy lips close around the sweet lollipop as you suck on it diligently, tasting every last bit of it as you continue to stare at him. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

“Jungkook, hm? It’s pretty,” you flirt, “like you.”

Jungkook steals the lollipop from your mouth and places it in his, “I must say, I don’t get called pretty often,” he jokes, “and yours?”

Your hand runs from his shoulders and down his arm, meeting his callosal hand in yours. You gently entwine his fingers with yours and start to walk away, “Come with me and find out.”

You wanted to play and toy with him. He’s fucking hot, and you’re in the mood for a good fucking.

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice as he began to follow you back towards the bathroom stalls. It was fun letting you have your moment of control, but now it is Jungkook’s turn.

You nudge the bathroom door open and pull Jungkook inside, quickly locking the door behind him to ensure no interruptions. Jungkook is fast in his actions as he places your arms around his neck and lifts you against him with his hands under your ass, lightly squeezing in his palms. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck as he backs you up against the nearest wall and smashes his lips into yours, closing the gap between you two.

“Fuck, you are something,” Jungkook grunts and squeezes your ass harder, spreads them apart and then slaps your cheek. He takes his chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth. You instantly let out a breathy moan. The taste of the cherry lollipop, your strawberry lip gloss mixed with the alcohol on your lips, is all too intoxicating.

The sound of wet noises of you both separating your mouths to accommodate each other’s tongues fills the small room is lewd and messy. The kiss is only broken for an occasional suck of air before reattaching your lips to one another for a headier kiss.

He places you back on your heels. His hands instinctively found your hips and gave you a squeeze. Jungkook bends ever so slightly to pull your leg over his hip and kneads the flesh under your ass, leaving you with one foot on the floor and both hands wrapped around his neck. You thrust your hips towards Jungkook, the loose cargo pants doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he was incredibly hard right now.

“Still didn’t get your name, princess,” Jungkook states, his words coming out in between kisses. He moves his lips up to your ear before finishing, “Gonna need it for when I make you cum so fucking hard.”

You roll your head to the side, allowing Jungkook to leave his own red and violet love bites from your ear and down your neck. He kisses along your jaw and sinks his teeth into the juncture of your throat and shoulder, the most sensitive part of your neck.

Too lost in the pleasure, you tell Jungkook your name with little hesitation, “____, my name’s ____.”

“Well _____, what do you say we get out of here?” he murmurs against your skin.

“Please,” you elongate the word in a moan, “but you should know Jungkook, I don’t tend to play nice.”

Jungkook isn’t the type to not last during sex, but with your unbridled confidence and bratty attitude, he swears he could blow his load at that statement and how fucking provocative it sounded leaving your lips.

He removes himself from your neck with haste. He grabs your palm and drags you out of the bathroom, manoeuvring you both through the ever-growing groups of people in the building. He stops suddenly in front of you, causing your head to rise in wonder why you weren’t being dragged out here further.

To your surprise, Jungkook was whispering into the ear of Taehyung, who had his eyes on you throughout the whole conversation, occasionally nodding his head to whatever it is Jungkook is telling him. He hadn’t let go of your hand throughout the entire interaction between the top of them. Taehyung gives you a smug smile before your eyes stray away from his intimidating stare.

With a final pat on Jungkook’s back, Taehyung moves out the way and lets Jungkook leave with you in tow.

The weather had significantly cooled from when you first entered the establishment hours ago - enough to make your bare skin shiver. But the thought of Jungkook and what he could be capable of lights a fire inside your pussy, keeping you well distracted from the night breeze. If he can get you this riled up by just making out, God knows what his dick is capable of.

You and Jungkook walk down a dark alleyway around the back of the nightclub as he grabs his car keys from his pocket. It’s pitch black. You’re surprised he can navigate his way around.

“You know him?” you ask curiously, “that Taehyung guy.

Jungkook seems amused by your strange question. “Yeah, I know him.”

Vague.

“Oh. How do you know him?”

Jungkook stops near the end of the unlit alleyway and presses a kiss to your lips to shut you up, one hand at the side of your neck to keep you still, “do you always ask this many questions?” his rough voice bites into the still night, raising goosebumps across your skin.

Your hand wraps around his neck and finds his hair at the nape. You move back in for a kiss, and at the last minute, when you drag him close enough, you change your direction and turn your head to his ear, “maybe I like knowing who I’m getting involved with,” you whisper seductively, gently tugging at his hair.

Jungkook grips your waist and twists your body around. Your back is flush against his chest as he moves your hair out of his way and leans his mouth towards your ear. Clicking the unlock button of his car key, the slender headlights of his car turn on and flash before you. You gasp at the sight of the car, “you’re about to,” he places a kiss on the back of your ear.

You stand frozen in place, unable to tear your eyes away from the supercar in front of you. Not only is one of these beauties very hard to come across, but the car teeters on the line of illegal, notorious for the outrageous amount of speed it can reach.

Now, Jungkook is a young man, definitely not too far from your age, so how did he manage to own one of these? You walk around the supercar and take in all its beauty. It’s small in height, a classic sports car look you think. Painted in a deep crimson red and further wrapped in dark carbon fibre makes it sexy and alluring to look at. It’s obvious that a car like this is bought as a plaything, and owners of a car like this buy it only to show them off. From the outside, you can see the sleek black leather interior and you can’t wait to get inside.

“Yours or mine?”

“Haven’t you been drinking? Y-you shouldn’t be driving, let alone something like this,” you point out, an astonished tone to your voice.

Jungkook snorts at your statement and finishes the rest of his drink. “Babe, it’s water. I don’t mix pleasure with my business.”

“Then what is this, then?” You point between the two of you.

He smirks. “I guess we’ll find out. Now, answer my question.”

After making your way around his supercar, you smash your lips against his, your tongue parting his mouth to slip inside. “Surprise me,” you sigh into the kiss.

Jungkook backs you up against the vehicle and opens the passenger side of the car. He breaks the kiss and takes your hand as you sit in the expensive, plush Italian leather seats. Jungkook shuts the door and joins you in the driver’s seat, “I’m about to take you on the ride of your life.”

Pushing the ignition button to start the vehicle, the dashboard lights up like a spaceship with the abundance of controls and options in front of you both. The cabin vibrates as the roaring sound of the engine is brought to life. It’s high and animalistic and runs through the machine. There are strip LED lights adoring the inside in its signature red colour. It’s alluring and sexy from the inside out.

“No, baby, I’m about to take you on the ride of your life.”

Jungkook puts the car into drive and takes off towards the highway. You watch the yellowed lights flicker through the tinted windows as the car zips through the lanes of the road, nearly reaching its full speed. The buildings are bathed in darkness as the subtle glow of the moon creates beautiful silhouettes in your view.

The adrenaline from the high speed fuels your body; and paired with the hand Jungkook kept on your bare thigh, alternating between softly squeezing and rubbing small circles, is wildly turning you on.

You lift your hips and shimmy the hem of your dress up to your waist, giving you enough room to move. You unbuckle the seatbelt and glance over to Jungkook, who is concentrating on the road in front of him. Jungkook manages to see from the corner of his eye what you’re doing, and his grip on your thigh loosens.

You twist your body and prop your knees onto the chair, hauling the hem of your dress past your hips and lean forward, putting one arm around the other side of his neck. You take his lobe in your mouth and tug it ever so slightly—your hot breath more akin to a moan across the shell of his ear.

“Jagiya, what are you doing?”

You ignore his question and drag your lips down his neck, latching your mouth onto Jungkook’s exposed skin as he continues focusing on the road. His concentration dwindles as he slows the car down. Your palm travels down to his pants to find his erection still very prominent. You rub over his cock back and forth, feeling his hard on grow as a loud growl falls from his lips. “I’m not wearing any panties,” you whisper, pairing it with a lick of his earlobe.

“Fuck, you’re gonna get caught, you minx,” he teases, watching you out of the corner of his eye. You retract your hand from his neck in favour of pulling down the top of your tight dress to palm your tits.

His eyes dart between you and the road. “Let me see.”

Biting your lower lip, you grin and lean back onto the dashboard of his expensive car. You lift the lace hem of your dress to slowly reveal your smooth thighs, until your pussy is on full display for him and anybody else who decided to drive past.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he watches your fingers dip in and out of your pussy lips, your digits coated in your wet slick.

Jungkook takes his hand off the steering wheel to drag it up your thigh, squeezing at the supple skin every so often. His fingers reach your pussy, and he dips in to feel the essence that has gathered inside your lips for him.

“Shit, babe, you’re something else,” Jungkook rasps with a cocky smirk. “I can’t wait to fuck you hard - bet you’d love that. Bet you love being called a fucking whore, huh? My pretty little slut fucked nice and rough?”

Moaning, you feel yourself get wetter at his words, the feeling of your juices gushing and coating your thighs. You place your hand around Jungkook’s wrist and scratch into the skin as you grind yourself down onto his fingers, desperate to feel them deeper inside your wet cunt.

Giving you the attention you desperately crave, Jungkook plays with the buttons on the dashboard, putting the car into self drive mode then. Moving his feet from the pedals, he spreads his legs to accommodate his growing cock and alleviate how much it throbs for you.

Jungkook presses something at the side of his driver’s seat and lets the chair recline back. He watches you eagerly shift as you patiently wait to spear yourself on top of him, his eyes dark with lust.

Gorgeous, you muse to yourself as you watch the dark lights reflect off of his radiant skin. Jungkook begins pulling at his belt, unlooping it and letting it fall loosely on either side. He plants his hand on the nape of your neck and pulls you towards him, whispering huskily, “C’mere.”

You let his hand drag you back to his mouth where he kisses you hard, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss instantly. He glides his tongue over your bottom lip and bites on it, dragging it down harshly, making sure not to hurt you before sucking on it.

“C’mon jagiya, get it out,” he commands you.

You grin into the kiss at his demand and begin to unbutton him with one hand, pushing his vest past his muscular abdomen to reveal a trail of light hair leading towards his cock. Eventually, after a little bit of a fight, you pull his zipper down and dip your hands into his boxers, gasping when you come into contact with his length.

He is fucking big.

Jungkook lifts his hips and tugs his pants down, not bothering to remove them altogether, just loosening up enough to free what he needed to help you tug his cock out of his confines. You salivate at the sight in front of you. His cock is so fucking pretty. Gifted not only in length but in girth also. His tip is angry red and oozes a monstrous amount of precum that glistens when the light catches it. Your mouth anticipates feeling him against your tongue already.

You drag your hand up and down and up again and down again, making sure to smother the precum along his length for extra slide. You watch it twitch every so often, tightening your grip at the tip as you twist your wrist, earning a growl at every stroke.

Jungkook rolls his eyes back as it looks like he tries not to cum in your hand, “Jagiya, f-fuck you-you’re so fucking good at that,” his voice is low as he moans the compliment.

You grin at him and remove your hand from his cock, thrusting the fingers into your mouth to taste him on your hands. “I’ve never had any complaints,” you tell him matter of factly, sending him a sultry look.

Jungkook reaches down and wraps his hand around himself. He hisses at the contact once he begins to stroke. “What a filthy mouth you have,” he grunts, “care to put it to good use, sweetheart?” His piercing lifts with the rise of his perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“Hmm,” you contemplate jokingly.

The smile leaves Jungkook’s lips as he puts his hand on the crown of your head and grips the hair tight. “It isn’t a question. It isn’t a request. It’s an order.”

As he pulls you down, you arch your back a little further, allowing your ass to be nearly fully pressed against the black tinted windows. His rough handling makes you feel extra horny if possible. You peer up through your lashes and catch his eye, lust laced in both your visions. You want to tease him longer but you’re running out of patience yourself and the thought of finally being stuffed full fills your mind.

You hang your mouth open invitingly as your tongue lingers, waiting for a taste of him straight from the source. His grip on your hair loosens as you near his cock. Leaning forward, you close your mouth over his tip and suckle him ever so slowly before leaning back again, a devilish smile playing on your lips at your teasing.

The smile on Jungkook’s face fades as it registers in his head that you’re trying to toy with him. “_____.”

“Yes, sir?” You smirk at him deviously.

“What did I tell you? Suck it.”

You lower yourself back onto his cock and suckle lightly at the slit, tongue rotating viciously as you drink up the precum oozing out at your actions. The salty liquid melts on your tongue. You feel Jungkook move his hand back to the crown of your head and push your head down further down his length. He lets out a strangled grunt as he pushes his cock past your tongue and stills in your throat.

Jungkook keeps your head still in place, feeling you swallow around him once, twice, three times before your lungs start burning from the lack of oxygen. You gag and choke and splutter around his cock as he finally relents and drags you back up for air. “Such a good fucking whore… Maybe that’ll teach you not to be such a mouthy brat,” he mumbles. Lungs burning for much needed air, you throw him a cocky look, making sure to let him know your submission isn't cheap. But Jungkook doesn't give you much time, pushing your head back and re-enters your mouth. He thrusts his hips up off the leather exterior, lodging his cock deep into your throat once more. Your eyes instantly water at the intrusion, your nails digging into the skin of his muscular thigh and drawing blood at the scratches.

The street lights reflect off the wet surface as the car navigates onto the freeway. Jungkook’s tight grip on your hair allows him to guide the movement of your head on his length. The wet slurping and gagging as you continue to suck and choke on his cock is pornographic, echoing in the small confined space. Jungkook swears that he’s never believed in love, but fuck, at this moment, with you sucking him off in his brand new Ferrari the way that you are, he is almost certain he could be.

It’s filthy, and Jungkook fucking loves filthy.

The palm of his hand slams into the steering wheel as you slightly graze your teeth over his length, working him closer to the edge. Jungkook releases a high pitch moan at the feeling of drool and cum dribbling, gathering at the base of his wet cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Gonna, fuck-gonna come down your throat like the filthy cocksleeve you are.”

A promise made is a promise kept, as his hand finds the back of your head and fists your hair as thick, bitter streams of warm cum reach the back of your throat.

You swallow around him as his cock continues to pulse and throb inside your mouth. Moving your head to remove yourself from the position, you let your tongue tease the underside of his sensitive length.

Finally releasing him from your mouth with a pop, you let your tongue hang as you proudly show Jungkook your success in swallowing his load with no fuss.

Looking up at him, you can see the long black strands of his hair have fallen into his view as the sweat beading on his skin gives it something to stick to. He looks beautiful as his skin glows, the streetlights outside catching his dampening skin.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous after you cum.”

Jungkook’s nose twitches slightly as he tries not to laugh at the unexpected compliment. Instead, he pulls you back to kiss him and immediately slides his tongue into your mouth. Remembering your surroundings as the car engine roars in the background down the freeway, you have concluded that you can’t settle and stop at just a blowjob – and Jungkook seems to decide that it isn’t enough either.

He needs more. There isn’t much chance you’re going to be able to wait until your home to fuck him. You whine as your thighs close and rub together to relieve some pressure on your sensitive clit. Your pussy is dripping, and your thighs are slick with residue.

You need to fuck him, and fast.

“Get your mouth back down there, Jagiya, and keep me hard. I’m pulling over. I’m not fucking done with you.”

The words leaving his lips leave you speechless. Maybe it’s the thrill of being caught in such an expensive car with a stranger’s cock in your mouth, but you don’t hesitate on his request as you take Jungkook’s semi-softened cock into your small hands and pump him smoothly. You direct your mouth on his balls and draw them into your mouth, making sure your tongue drags over the skin salaciously. Jungkook puts his hands back on the wheel, and the car picks up speed. It makes a sharp swerve across the highway, a sign of the desperation Jungkook is feeling.

Pleasure is pulsing through his shaft as he lets out a deep hiss at the sensitivity of your touch. The sound of Jungkook above you is not doing any favours for your already soaked centre. Your tongue licks and sucks vigorously on his balls, making sure to switch between the two while your hand works up and down his dick. You make sure to flick your wrist at his tip and give him a tighter squeeze, watching him harden once more.

The car has come to a complete stop, with the engine still humming in the background. The vibrations from the car that was evident in your pussy as it roared down the highway suddenly disappears and leaves you whining, disappointed at the lack of stimulation. Slowing down, you disregard your hazy state of arousal and lift yourself off his balls but still keep your hand wrapped tightly around his cock. You try to keep your legs tight together, still relieving some pent of frustration.

“What do you want? Use your words.” Jungkook grips your face and stares into your eyes. His pupils are dilated and darken immediately, completely overthrowing the natural colour of your eyes with lust. He pulls himself a little higher from his slumped position on the driver’s seat and kisses you. It’s all tongue and wet and messy. It’s wild, and you eat up every single moment along with his lips.

“Who would have known having a cock in your mouth where anyone can see gets you this worked up,” he grunts into your lips.

You pull at his bottom lip in your hazy state, his words making you much more needy and frisky. It’s like your lips were made for each other as he kisses you greedily, a clash between tongue and teeth. You emit a moan into his mouth, and he swallows it just as fast as it leaves you. “I want you to fuck me, sir,” you whine pathetically.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you in my brand new expensive car, is that what you want? Do you want to give those who pass down the highway a show?” Your mouth opens to release a soundless moan.

It’s pathetic how submissive you’ve become for him. “Yes.”

Unbuckling the strap of his belt, Jungkook pushes you off him and straightens himself. He puts his cock back into his underwear as you look back in confusion.

“If you want to give them a show, then I’ll make a show of you.”

He quickly opens the side of his door and removes himself from the vehicle. You jump slightly at the force of the door closing and watch Jungkook through the window as he walks behind the car and to the passenger door, and opens it.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I said, get out,” he’s quick to pull at your wrist and drag you out of the car. The air is chilly and nips at your skin, a stark difference in temperature from only a few moments ago. The highway is empty, only for a car or two to whizz past at high speed.

Jungkook grasps your wrists and walks you to the front of the car.

“What ar-are are you doing?”

He snickers lowly at your question and sits down on the hood of his Ferrari, “I’m putting on a show.”

You feel your heart pick up speed at his answer, feeling him take your hips into his hands and tightly squeeze and pull you forward on top of him. “You want this, right?”

A whimper leaves your mouth as you grind back down onto his confined cock, allowing your dress to ride further up your legs and dangerously close to your ass. Jungkook keeps his hands on your hips and bunches the rest of the material into his fist, your ass now on full display.

“Where are your words?” he taunts as one hand leaves your hip and comes back down on your exposed ass, hard.

“Yes,” you squeal, reassuring him, and he spanks your ass for a second time.

He leans in to kiss your neck, grazing his teeth as he sucks mercilessly on the spot right below your ear. He continues to nibble on your skin, leaving new purple blemishes on the barely healing ones.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you shift your body and feel immense pressure down in your pussy, continuing to grind down on Jungkook out in the open on top of his car. His hand reaches up to cup your breast, kneading and groping carelessly. His hands move past the hem of the dress and pull the material out, your tits spilling into the open. The cold air makes its attack, and your nipples harden instantly. Jungkook presses one last kiss to your neck and dives down to your chest, taking a tit into his mouth, his tongue warming it up. The fire burning deep inside you is ignited by his touch, scorching through your veins as it builds up just under your skin.

Jungkook wraps both arms around you and lifts himself from the car, and places you over it instead, making sure your dress stays put at your waist. “Going to eat you out, right here,” he announces, a waft of cold air leaving his lips as he speaks. He spreads your legs on the hood and noses at the apex of your thighs, taking in a large sniff of your arousal in between your legs. You moan quietly and tug his head closer to your cunt.

A look of shock graces your features in this instant. How did you get this lucky tonight? Sure, you had it in your mind before you left your apartment for the club that you wanted to get laid tonight, but this? This was far beyond any fantasy you had ever thought of.

Jungkook licks over your wet folds teasingly. And again. Taking your clit into his mouth, he sucks harshly, causing a multitude of whines and whimpers to greet the open air.

“Fingers. Please use your fingers.”

You don’t need to ask twice as Jungkook places his index and forefingers on your clit and begins circling at your swollen bud through the lace material. Your eyes roll back as he flicks and rubs through your panties in all the right places. Jungkook stops his actions and pulls your panties to the side ever so slightly to find your wet pussy glowing under the streetlamp.

He doesn’t waste any time dragging your panties down your legs, exposing your pussy for himself and anyone driving past to see. Once they reach your ankles, Jungkook slides them off your legs and throws them onto the road.

He leans back in and dives straight into your pussy, his gorgeous face slotted between your legs. Sticking his tongue in your hole, he laps up every drop of precum leaking from your pussy. You plant yourself flat on top of the hood and focus on the way Jungkook is making out with your cunt. You whine loudly into the open air, not caring about who could bear witness to the pornographic scene in front of them. You arch your back in pleasure as his tongue sucks and laps inside you, rubbing along your inner walls, back and forth deliciously. The contrast of the cold air and his hot mouth on you have you lifting your hips for him to take more of you.

Looking up from between your thighs, he sees you pulling at your nipples, as he continues to rub and stroke your sensitive clit. You clench around nothing, causing Jungkook to moan loudly, the deep vibrations from his mouth driving directly into your pussy.

Jungkook knows he didn’t need to prep you by the sheer amount of wetness slicking your folds, but he has this deep carnal desire to continue to see you writhing beneath him. He brings his thumb up to massage carelessly onto your clit and pushes a finger inside you. He works his finger in and out of you for a moment, drinking up the way that you subconsciously open your legs for him. You moan loudly, your fingers fisting at the hair on the crown of his head giving Jungkook the satisfaction he wants. Your moans pick up in volume, and your lungs yearn for more oxygen as your panting increases, demanding completion from Jungkook.

You bite back a moan at the feeling of Jungkook releasing a brief chuckle, sending vibrations straight into your clit before flattening out his tongue and licking a stripe up your cunt.

A throaty groan falls past your lips. “Please, Jungkook, don’t stop, please,” you’re practically begging at this point.

Staring up at you past the valley of your tits, Jungkook watches your eyes tighten in pleasure as he sinks a second and a third finger deep inside you. He curls them at the very last moment, caressing every inch of your walls and scissoring you at a rapid pace. The sounds of your juices squelching obscenely in the open air is all Jungkook can focus on. “You’re so fucking hot like this, ready to take my fat cock,” he mouths into your pussy.

You try lifting your ass off the hood of his car to get him deeper, but his other hand finds your waist and holds you down. Your clit is beyond overstimulated, and the way he is currently three knuckles deep is exactly what you need to drive you over the edge with a pathetic squeal into the night.

Stars fill your vision, and your entire body sets itself alight, electricity coursing through your veins as your climax hits you hard and dizzies you, rendering you speechless.

Jungkook barely gives you a second to catch the breath he had stolen from you before he unbuttons his pants and unfastens his zipper. You look down to see small wet patches on his boxers before he pulls his hard cock out and gives it an experimental pump. He twitches right before your eyes. The sight of him in front of you was mouth watering with his hand wrapped around his length, doing nothing to cover just how big he is.

Big enough to split you apart.

Here you were splayed out on top of his brand new Ferrari, legs spread apart, thighs wet with cum and pussy on full display for him or anyone who would speed down the highway. Here you are for him to use for his pleasure. You watch as his hand continues to glide up and down his cock, his thumb rubbing small circles on his head, in turn smearing his precum and watching it glisten under the street lights

Noticing that you haven’t taken your eyes off his length, Jungkook sniggers, “we’re going to make it fit, right? You can take it, yeah?”

The idea of finally being filled with his cock grips you, whining to plead. “Please–want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for a second longer before he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you down the hood of his car. He leans down and spits on your pussy. You shiver at the contact.

Standing back up, Jungkook lines his cock with your pussy and rubs himself through your puffy red lips, mixing his spit and precum with the remnants of your orgasms he tore from you earlier.

Having enough of his teasing, Jungkook once again aligns himself and pushes the tip into you.

“S-shit, f-fuck, y-you’re too big,” you hiccup, throwing your head back at the stretch. How the fuck are you going to be able to accommodate his full length when he’s barely inside you and already has you in this state?

“It doesn’t help that your pussy is just so fucking small,” Jungkook murmurs more to himself. “So fucking pretty though, wish you could see this.”

The imagery Jungkook installs in your mind makes you clench around nothing once more. The thought of his cock drenched in your juices, tearing you open is replying in your mind as you wait for him to make it come true.

You swallow in the air as you feel him continue to push in slowly, giving you the time you need to adjust to him.

Jungkook doesn’t take his eyes off of you. The way your eyes roll back and your head finds the hood of his car once more makes his cock twitch as it buries itself further into you.

Finally, he’s sheathed himself inside you and stops once again. The feeling of his cock pressed up against your cervix already has your mind blank and useless words escaping you. Your chest is heaving as you pant, a desperate plea for oxygen to soothe your burning lungs.

“Jungkook m-move, want you to fuck me now.” Your mind is deep in lust as the feeling of Jungkook bottomed out, hips against your own, is all you can think about.

The truth is, you love it. You love how he fits himself so tightly inside you. You love the way he has a hold of your hips, fingers digging in and painting your hips in perfect hues of purples.

Something in Jungkook seemed to snap as fire ignited his skin from the inside out at your words, his eyes darkening and an animalistic growl tearing from his chest and escaping his lips. His feet find a comfortable position to withdraw out of you slowly as you mewl at the loss of contact, only to cry out when he pushes back in just as slowly.

Your whole body is trembling with want and need. Your legs automatically wrap around Jungkook’s tiny waist and lock, keeping him in place. Your breathing has somewhat returned to a point where you’re able to speak out what you need. “Faster Jungkook, I’m not going to break.”

The competitive side of Jungkook is unleashed at your words as he pulls out of you entirely and grabs each of your legs, unlocking them from behind his back with his strength.

You gulp at the actions, beginning to wonder if what you said was a great idea or the beginning of your downfall. You don’t get the chance to form a coherent answer before he pulls you off the hood and turns you around, back facing him.

“Get on your knees,” he demands.

Listening to his command, you decide that it’s best to listen to him as you start to lower yourself to the ground.

“No,” he stops you.

Not understanding what he means, you still in your half-bent position, until two hands guide your hips back towards the car, “climb, knees up here.”

He presses up behind you and pushes you over, bending you further down onto the hood of his car. Without hesitating, he grinds himself into your ass, making you feel his dick slide against your ass. “Tell me you want me. Beg for me.”

You swallow hard and look over your shoulder at the gorgeous stranger. “Please, I want this,” you try to entice him.

“Mmm, that doesn’t sound eager enough for me,” he teases in a disapproving tone, “maybe I’ll just have to leave you here and take care of myself.”

A cruel press of his cock head back at your entrance makes you freeze in place and moan. But the view of Jungkook twisting his cock in one hand and squeezing his balls in another was enough to encourage you further. “Please,” you put more effort into the word with a shake of your ass, “please Jungkook, I want you to fuck me. Need you to fuck me right here, right now.”

“Oh yes, baby, now that’s what I want to hear.”

Without wasting a moment, Jungkook’s hands scramble to place both on either side of your hips and sink his hard length into you in one swift motion. He bottoms out instantly, unlike his slow strokes earlier, earning a sound somewhere between a moan and a cry of pain at his size as his full length enters you.

“Fuck,” he throws his head back in ecstasy at the tight feeling of your lips around him, “are you always this fucking tight?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold in the small yelps attempting to fall from your lips as the small pains begin to turn into throes of pleasure. One of Jungkook’s hands that were previously on your hip was now spanking into your ass as he drew himself back, leaving just his cock head in.

“S–Stop teasing, j–just fuck me.”

Jungkook’s thrusts were long and rough, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust before slamming back deep into you. His hand on your hips keeps you from moving from your spot on the hood. A car flies by on the highway, roaring its horn as it passes at the scene of you both going at it in public in the middle of the highway in front of them. You moan and flex your ringed muscles around the cock sheathed deep inside your cunt as Jungkook stirs your insides, completely rearranging your guts.

“Fuck, did you just get wetter?” He keeps thrusting. “Does the thought of me fucking you so publicly for anybody to see turn you on, huh?”

There is no need for words. Your pussy releases new arousal, which Jungkook can see coating his dick whenever he slides out. He is quite literally milking you for everything you have.

“Holy shit, dirty girl.”

It isn’t surprising to know that you can feel your impending orgasm building, the knot tightening increasingly fast in your core. You’re reduced to nothing but a whimpering mess around Jungkook’s thick length as unshed tears now find their way past your lash line, messing up your makeup further.

“Jungkook, fuck, fuck, shit, Jungkook! I’m gonna cum,” you cry.

After a moment, his hand on your hip guides itself up to your back towards your neck, finding your strewn out hair and yanks your body backwards until the sweaty skin of your back is flush against Jungkook’s chest. The other hand curls around your body and makes it around your tits, squeezing one roughly in his hand before deeming himself done and moving on to the next one to give it the same rough treatment. Your head is thrown back in ecstasy. Never has anybody made you feel this way through sex. You’re fucked out, barely able to catch a breath when he pulls himself out of you only to slam back in twice as hard as the last. Your mouth is wide open in a silent scream as he continues to jackhammer into you, more passing vehicles circling by to witness the scene in front of them.

“Cum, come on, baby. I want you to cum around my cock in front of everybody who sees you. If you want to be a slut, cum like one.” The hand curled around your body has now found its way to your neck, lightly tilting your head around so you can face him from behind your shoulder as he fucks you to near completion. Whimpers, moans and cries continue to fall from your swollen lips at the feeling of his fingers tightening over the sides of your love bitten neck, controlling the amount of air passing through your lungs. A low growl of pleasure emanates from deep within Jungkook’s chest as he keeps his eyes on you the whole time, sending chills of excitement through your body. The hairs on your skin were standing tall, and you’re unsure if it is the cold weather nipping your bare skin or because nobody, ever, has fucked you like this.

You angle your sweaty neck to the side and open your eyes to stare back at Jungkook. His head comes down and attaches his red, swollen lips back to your own, tongue coming out and instantly wrapping around your own in a messy, languid kiss. His lips trace your jawline and down your shoulder to attack the exposed skin of your shoulder, sucking and pulling on the flesh with his teeth, ensuring he leaves more bruises, more bites. A yelp breaks through the night as he punctures the skin every so often.

“Yes, yes, there, right there,” you hiss as he ruts into you harder and deeper, the head of his cock abusing the opening to your cervix with every stroke. “Oh my - god, yes!” A scream tears through you as much as it can with his hand still tightly pressed into your throat. You begin to feel light-headed with the lack of oxygen as you feel yourself on the tip of your orgasm.

In response, he slowly trails his hand down your abdomen, grunting as he does so and finds your wet clit. He presses two fingers forcefully onto your bud and moves them in circular motions back and forth to bring you to your climax.

Your legs begin to shake. Your eyes squeeze tightly shut as you see nothing but black, white stars painting the inside of your eyelids as the force of your orgasm pushes through you.

Oversensitive and completely dazed by the immense pleasure he’s put your body through, your breathing is broken, your chest heaving for all the air your lungs can consume. The feeling of Jungkook still slamming into you through your orgasm has you keening, unsure if you can handle any more stimulation, but you’re determined to see it through until Jungkook finds his end.

Jungkook’s thrusts begin to turn sloppy as he continues to buck his hips against yours, sliding in and out of you with nothing but intense focus. The way his eyes lit up above you with the street lights of the highway was nothing short of stunning. Like he hangs up the stars in the night sky himself.

“W-want you to cum inside me J-Jungkook,” you hiccup.

The sound of a snort escapes his lips and fills the space between you both. “Well, I’m not going to cum all over such a beautiful thing, am I? The car deserves better than that, don’t you think?” The rhetorical question is left unanswered by you as he nears his high. “But a whore like you, mmm, shit. If you fuck like a whore, then you’ll be treated like a whore.”

You could hear his breaths get heavy behind you. “Fuck ____, I’m cumming.” All of a sudden, his thrusts turn hard and determined. All you can feel is his cock tighten within your slick walls. Your eyes roll back as he fucks you past your oversensitivity.

With no warning, you feel him still behind you, his hands back on your hips, stilling your movement as he spills his hot cum into your sodden pussy. Occasionally, his hips jerk and twitch with movement due his head-spinning throes of pleasure, forcing his warm, thick seed to leak out around his semi-hard cock and down between your thighs. The feeling of being filled with so much of his cum shows as your belly begins to slightly bulge out.

“Fuck, that was good,” he announces as he pulls himself out, watching his cum dribble out of you messily.

You turn back and watch as Jungkook fixes himself back into his pants, the sight of his skin with red blotches from exertion, his once slicked back hair now falling in front of his eyes sexily as strands stick to his forehead that is covered in sweat. He stood out in the crowd at the club, but now he looks incredible in his fucked out state. Your feet find the ground almost steadily as you try to recompose your still, slightly shaking body.

There are no words exchanged by the both of you, just awkward smiles and lazy eye contact with each other in the aftermath of your exhibitionist behaviour. It wasn’t until you see the change in Jungkook’s face that it manages to snatch you from your daydream. All of a sudden, he looks panic-stricken as he starts pacing back and forth in front of you.

“Jungkook–w—”

“____, get in the car.”

“What? Jungkook, what’s going on?”

And you hear it. The roaring sounds of sirens in the background. You turn your head and manage to see the flashes of red and blue lights in the distance down the highway. It wouldn’t be long until they’re speeding past you, but why is Jungkook so hellbent on getting you out of here?

It feels as if an ice bucket has been tipped over you with just how fast your body runs cold at the mere thought that they were in this direction for a reason. That reason is Jungkook.

“____, get in the car now or so help me God, I will leave you here.” His voice is urgent, desperate.

Turning back, you see him now pulling open the driver’s door and rushing to get inside the car. He takes one last look at the panic now on your features as the sirens grow louder the closer they get.

He grunts, kissing his teeth. The idea of being caught right now after having a good late-night fuck is pissing him off. Making his mind up, you see him pace towards you, gripping your wrist and tugging you towards his car himself. He opens the door and pushes you inside. Unlike his words, he wasn’t about to leave you stranded on the highway on your own. Jungkook might not be the greatest person, but he sure isn’t a monster. Entirely.

From your seat, you hear the door slam next to you and see him run back round to his seat.

“Put your seatbelt on.” And you do as you’re told with shaky hands, eventually hearing it click.

You take one look in the front mirror and then back into the wing mirror at your side, the lights now dangerously close to the two of you. You had two minutes maximum before you were surrounded, and the thought had a new patch of tears gathering in your eyes. Fear and fright consume you wholly. Who is this man you’re sitting next to? Who is this man who just fucked you in plain sight?

“Hey.” The voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Jungkook places his hand on your face, and his thumb gently caresses your wet cheeks, wiping at your shed tears. “You’re going to be okay, alright Do you trust me?”

You’re unsure why, but you nod your head. He gives you a closed-lip smile and lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to your knuckles. It might be the gentle look in his eyes, the stars that glinted earlier making their way back and allowing you to feel somewhat comfortable in his presence.

He lowers your hand onto the gear stick on the centre console and presses on the button on the dashboard. The car roars and thunders back to life, the lights illuminating the wet ground once again as he lowers his hand on top of yours that is still tightly clutching the gear stick. He steps on the accelerator, and suddenly the car pulls out and speeds down the highway. The supercar reaches 150 km/hour in no time as Jungkook swerves in and out of lanes, watching as the blues and reds further themselves into the distance.

“I’m glad you trust me. You’re stuck with me now, Jagiya.”

And as much as that scares you, it excites you all the more.

1K notes · View notes

jimilter · 3 years ago

Text

ain’t real cherry | p.jm. | one-shot (m)

🎧 candy by doja cat come my way by plvtinum

pairing: jimin x reader (ft. taehyung)

rating: m (18+)

summary: Not to be too sickeningly romantic, but his wank bank needed a desperate overhaul if he was ever going to stop being pathetic. He was done envisioning his roommate in positions he would never actually get to see her in.

And maybe, just maybe, this exercise would get him back in the game and he would actually be able to fuck people without your face in his head to push him over the edge, every single time.

warnings: swearing + unresolved (?) sexual tension + nude photos + vivid descriptions of curvaceous female bodies + careless objectification of said bodies by horny college students + mentions of masturbation + heavy making out + sexual situations (oral (m+f), penetrative sex, dirty talk, softdom!jimin, switch!reader, choking, manhandling, rough sex, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, overstimulation, marking) + unrequited (?) lustful (?) pining [citation needed] + fuckboy tae with a dick for brain + unintended allusions to Ryan Reynolds’ dick + mentions of blue beanbags + mentions of erect dingalings + explicit conversations featuring dingalings + i realize these are getting progressively more ridiculous so ima stop

word count: 24.2 k

note: IT’S FINALLY HERE! so this was the result of me obsessively listening to doja cat’s candy and daydreaming about jimin. i wanted to make a pwp-ish drabble out of this concept, but yet again, i kept adding backstory and it was nearing 5k words by the time things actually started to get heated up for real, so i decided to actually add more depth and plot to it, and — here we are, at more than three times the initially planned wordcount. i’ve been slaving since the beginning of june. why am i like this??? 😩😭

it’s really more than 15k words of pure filth, proceed with caution!

a few honorable mentions in the form of @getmemyfries who constantly helped me push through and finish this up. ily bby. 🥺💕 @ressjeon @sugasbabiie & @jamaisjoons for helping me out in the BS server when i was stuck! i appreciate y’all loadsss! 🥰❤

annnywayyy, hope y’all like this one, while i go work on the jk birthday fic before going back to the youth series. much love~ 🥺💜

↦ CROSS-POSTED ON AO3

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

Late at night, do the things to him, mean that guy who Need someone who's sweet enough, who'll shoot to make that high note~

Park Jimin was having a surprisingly nice Wednesday. And you were the reason why.

The fact was surprising, because Wednesdays were one of the three days that housed the most despicable compulsory classes he'd ever sat in his life, Cognitive Psychology 101. He honestly still didn't get why he, a finance major, was forced through this torture – what was up with this university and its combinations, he didn't know. But since he had to endure it, he braved the class with a grimace and slumping on the very last row of seats in the lecture hall with Taehyung.

“You look happy today,” the guy in question mumbled around the lollipop in his mouth.

Jimin gave him a small grin, shrugging. “I just have these positive vibes going around my head this morning.”

Your words from this morning, aka, said positive vibes, still echoed in his head.

There’s this… guy I’ve kinda been thinking about. I’m, like, ready to put out if he’d take it, but I feel like I might be out of his league…

Jimin had wanted to hold you by your shoulders and tell you that no guy in the world—least of all on this campus—could ever be out of your league when you were Aphrodite, Persephone and Hera all rolled into one sexy as fuck human body. But he had refrained, only scoffing in disbelief and asking you to shoot your shot like the confident goddess you were—okay, he might not have refrained that well—while secretly hoping you’d jump him at the end of his encouraging speech.

And even though that didn’t happen, Jimin still wasn’t completely hopeless.

“Vibe—what now? Positive? Head?” Taehyung looked at him in confusion, basic human language seemingly too complicated for him due to all the sex related jargon that filled his brain at all times. He suddenly leered, proving Jimin right. “Oh, wait! Is that a euphemism for morning head?”

Jimin choked on his next inhale, violently coughing as he shook his head, partially to negate what Taehyung said but partially to get rid of the sudden mental image of you on your knees with your lips wrapped around his—

Sweet mother of Jesus!

Taehyung simply shrugged at Jimin’s tiny meltdown and went back to his phone. He was simple like that, and Jimin kinda preferred it that way. Mostly.

Taehyung, much like Jimin, wasn't too fond of these classes. He had seemed like a chill person to Jimin when the dark haired guy first sat next to him, easy to get along with and talk to in order to pass time in class. But as three weeks had gone by and Jimin had had occasional hangouts with the guy outside of class, he had realised that Taehyung wasn't much fond of anything to do with education, in general. He was a performing arts student majoring in music and unnecessarily dipping his head in a couple of culture related subjects, when all he seemed to care about was working his vocal chords, grades be damned.

That, along with the fact that Taehyung was a notorious fuckboy. If he wasn't lewdly ogling someone in class, he was sexting someone. Or looking at nudes. Or sifting through his contact list full of girls to look for someone to spend the night with.

Multiple times through the span of the weeks they’d sat together, he had encouraged Jimin to join in with him in one of the aforementioned activities to pass time in class. But Jimin had refused the offer. And not because he was a saint himself, not in the least. Jimin had had a filling and frivolous sexual life through high school and upped his game with trying new things through his freshman year in college — trying out every sex position possible, getting in bed with multiple partners at the same time, hooking up in the oddest of places, having sex with two brothers one after another, to name a couple stunts.

But ever since his second year in college started and his previous roommate graduated and moved out to make space for you, things had started to change for Jimin.

You had entered his life as a temporary roommate, claiming plans of only lodging with him for a few weeks until you found yourself a sorority that would take you in. But a few weeks had changed into a few months, and then a few semesters — and now you’d been living with him for over a year, with your sorority plans tossed in a dumpster when you failed an exam and lost the eligibility.

Somewhere in between, Jimin had developed the most gigantic crush of his life on you.

And, yes, it was the biggest cliche trope in the world to crush on your roommate, but he couldn’t help it, okay? You were sexy, gorgeous, witty, really caring when you needed to be, sexy, at the top of each one of your classes, made the best fried rice he had ever tasted and could hold your liquor almost better than Jimin could. Did he mention you were also impossibly sexy? Because you really really were. He’d never been one to objectify women, but damn did he want you to suffocate him with those thighs of yours. So with all of that, how could he not be completely infatuated with you?

Hence, he really was. And slowly but surely, his sleeping around had stopped as a result of said infatuation. He had found himself quickly turning into a pervert and an asshole of a huge degree when he noticed he had started to prefer fucking girls from behind so that he didn’t see their faces, and, well…could imagine yours in its place. He’d forgone getting it on with guys as a whole, because he couldn’t pretend with them. So yeah, he had decided he was better off jerking off in the confines of his room with your thoughts in his head. Better just a pervert than a perv and an asshole, right?

You, though, were none the wiser about his developed feelings and still went around hooking up with and dating guys. Jimin didn’t really mind – he wasn’t in love with you by any means – until you didn’t bring back guys to your apartment, which you thankfully never did. It definitely hurt a bit, yeah, but it was his own fault for not telling you how he felt. Maybe you’d go easier on him and not loudly reiterate details of your sexual encounters and bad first dates to him over your shared meals. Maybe you’d confess to reciprocated attraction and actually fuck him. But, at the same time, maybe you would find it to be a breach of your trust on him and decide to move out and cut all ties with him forever. And therein was the reason why he hadn’t told you.

Something had been different as of late, though.

You hadn’t slept with a single guy since the start of this term, and the last date you’d been on had been before the summers. At least from what you told him. But then, why would you lie when your usual breakfast conversation with Jimin consisted of descriptions of what some random one night stand from months ago had done with his tongue and how you hadn’t yet found someone who came close to replicating that?

Jimin had desperately wanted to volunteer himself, on an embarrassingly large number of occasions, but he had held back. At the end of the day, you were also one of the closest friends he had and he really didn’t wanna lose you because of sex.

Now, though, he was getting ideas.

Was there a reason why you hadn’t been on a date in months and had refrained from sleeping around?

That, when put together with your conversation from this morning, was making Jimin think things.

Now, of course, you could be talking about literally anybody in the world because you’d given him no specifics. Hell, you could be talking about Ryan Reynolds, and he wouldn’t know! You hadn’t even specified if you even knew this guy personally, least of all if you were friends, or something.

But Jimin was still brimming with hope, because there was still a chance you could have been talking about him.

Jimin sighed to himself at the wishful thought.

The professor had started to drone about something to do with language ability and when the word “psycholinguistics” came up, Jimin decided it was time to tap out.

Taehyung sat manspreading next to him, intently focussed on his phone, not even trying to be subtle about not focussing on the class as he leant over the device. Jimin started a game of PAC-MAN on his laptop with an admirable straight face. His eyes met the professor’s by accident, though, but instead of freezing up and giving himself away, he gave the man a short nod with furrowed brows. His professor looked away after a satisfactory hum, and Jimin immediately moved to position his laptop between himself and the man’s line of sight properly, this time.

His own acting skills sometimes astounded him to the point where he thought of switching courses to Taehyung's bachelor’s.

He snorted at his thought, and caught said man's attention.

"What's so funny?" Taehyung asked with an amused grin, eyes still trained on his phone screen.

Jimin had just opened his mouth to respond when he saw Taehyung's grin change flavors. It became lecherous, all of a sudden, and when he licked his lips, Jimin averted his gaze with a grimace, mildly disturbed.

Was Taehyung sexting someone, right now? Jimin hoped the guy wouldn’t pop a boner in the middle of the class for the sake of his own eyes. Shuddering in revulsion at the thought, Jimin looked back at his computer.

“Gosh, those hips,” Taehyung mumbled under his breath, and Jimin froze.

So he was looking at nudes, then.

Rolling his eyes, Jimin had just started a new game when Taehyung tugged at his sleeve. “Look at this, Park, ugh, she’s so hot,” he mumbled, producing his phone before Jimin.

Jimin screwed his eyes shut, bringing his hand up to shield them, just to be safer. ��Kim! Don’t show it to me! Someone sent it to you in confidence, don’t go around asking others to look!” he scolded Taehyung in a harsh whisper.

Taehyung clicked his tongue, moaning as if he was in actual pain. “Gosh, Jimin, I’d print these out and paste them on the walls of my bedroom if I could!”

Even though Jimin had detached himself from Taehyung’s grasp, his curiosity had peaked. But he still stared into his computer with a straight face, until the next set of words left Taehyung’s mouth.

“I’m seriously considering forwarding this to every single group chat I’m a part of so that people can tell me I’m not insane for wanting to lick my phone’s screen, man,” Taehyung nearly whined.

“Kim!” Jimin’s hand flew to grab Taehyung’s phone in alarm, and he snatched it away before the other guy could blink. “What the hell is going on with you today? Fucking around is one thing but compromising a girl’s trust and privacy is something else! Stop talking about spreading the pictures around!”

After his little tirade was done with, Taehyung rightfully looked somewhat chastised. But then he pushed his lower lip out in a pout. “It’s not even pictures, it’s just a picture. Only one. And that has me going insane.” He suddenly sucked in a sharp breath, and Jimin leant away, warily. “Imagine what it would be like to dig my hands into those shapely hips, that plump as fuck ass, God's above—oh! I’ll probably bite into the meat of her—”

“Yeah, okay, that’s enough erotica from you!” Jimin interrupted him, entire face scrunched up in a scowl as he rested Taehyung’s phone on the other side of his own laptop. He still didn't trust the guy to not shred someone’s privacy to pieces in his haze of lust. “Don't drool so hard, dude, come on. It’s 2021, she probably photoshopped some bits.”

Taehyung shook his head, eyes looking a bit blown out. “Trust me on this, Park, I can tell the difference between fake and real. And those stretch marks wrapping up delicately like a fucking vine around her hips? They’re as real as they come.”

Jimin swallowed, fighting against the visual of your thighs and the threading stripes of olive that ran along the sides of your knees. “I still think you’re overreacting a bit.”

Taehyung looked offended at that. “Well, you’re saying that because you haven’t seen it! Just — just take a goddamned look, Park, it’s right there and the screen isn’t even locked.”

Jimin inhaled through his mouth. “No. It’s wrong, and—”

“Jesus Christ, her face isn’t even in it!”

That gave Jimin a pause. His eyes darted to the device, and just as he’d registered the silhouette of a curvy, olive torso, he snapped his head back. “It's still immoral!”

“For the love of—fine, gimme my phone, I’ll text her and ask if it’s okay for you to see it, alright?” Taehyung hissed in his face, brows lowered in irritation. “Stop acting like a fucking priest, and look at the damn photo, Park!”

And before Jimin could react, Taehyung’s long-ass arms with his long-ass fingers had ripped the device off Jimin’s desk and shoved it in his face.

Jimin sucked in a breath. He had been having a surprisingly nice Wednesday, and his pessimistic ass was basically waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop. Maybe this would be it, this immoral leering—

“Holy fuck, those hips!” he exclaimed, wide eyes drinking up the female torso on the screen.

It was a picture taken in a mirror, with the girl standing facing to the side. It began right at the fullness of her breasts, capturing the taut peaks of her dark nipples and golden stretch lines near the lower curves of her full breasts. Her stomach was tight but had a soft curve below her navel, which then tapered into a shaved triangle of soft skin that disappeared into the juncture of her meaty thighs that she’d strategically crossed to hide her pussy from sight. But the main attention grabbing attraction were the wide, sloping, round hips that her trim waist tapered into. She had an hourglass figure, with the juiciest curve connecting her waist to her legs.

Jimin breathed out. It was a really artfully clicked picture, alluring to the point where Jimin felt his mouth water just staring at it.

“Do you get it now?” Taehyung sounded to be in pain, and Jimin could understand.

Yep, he got it now.

“It’s the first picture she’s sent that’s why she’s hidden the cooch, but honestly? I don’t even miss it right now,” Taehyung mumbled, now looking at the picture himself.

Jimin secretly agreed, not even needing to look at the picture to confirm anymore, now that he had it seared in his brain.

Out of nowhere, an image of you lounging on the sofa in an oversized shirt and little else as you watched the TV entered his thoughts.

He groaned at the mental image of your thighs and groaned further when his brain automatically pictured them wrapped around his waist as he drove into—

No!

Nobody’s driving nothing nowhere.

His eyes widened in panic when he felt his jeans tightening.

No. Nope. Think ugly thoughts! Think psychology – think fucking psycholinguistics! Think gross men! Taehyung! The psych professor! Taehyung's tongue! Taehyung's tongue on the psych professor's face!

Sufficiently calmed down, Jimin breathed easier when he felt himself wilt.

He bit down on his bottom lip, exhaling harshly in frustration. As if lusting on one temptress wasn't too fucking much to handle for his brain, now he had two.

And to think his Wednesday had been going good!

Jimin delayed getting back to his flat as much as he could, instead choosing to spend long hours in the library with his nose buried in a Napoleon Hill he'd been planning to read for a long time.

But his mind, the betraying fucker, completely refused to decipher the literature before him. It, instead, insistently played loops of imaginary scenarios featuring a delicious pair of curvaceous hips that made Jimin’s head hurt and pants tighten. And if he somehow battled his way out of those, it immediately switched to the image of your thighs, and Jimin honestly couldn’t decide what was worse.

He was embarrassed by it all, hating how he seemed to be unable to control all the horny thoughts in his mind like a thirteen year old who’d seen porn for the first time. He’d had his share of hot women—and men—in his bed, he should have been good at controlling himself from physically reacting to the thoughts of a sexy body. And he really had been, in the past. He couldn’t understand what the catch was, this time.

Maybe your words from this morning had caused more short circuits in his head than he had knowledge of.

In any case, he desperately didn't wanna face you when he was having such a hard time controlling himself. He had even considered going home with one of the girls on Taehyung’s list of potential booty calls to take the edge off. But the memories of the last few one night stands he’d had left him scarred. He did not wanna fuck another girl from behind and climax to the image of your face painted behind his eyelids.

He left the library at eight when it closed, avoiding the librarian’s shocked but curious gaze when she had to escort him out. He understood her completely, though. This was the first ever time he’d actually sat in this particular building on the campus in his more than two years of college, let alone stay till closing like a nerdy bookworm.

He trudged his way to the train station on heavy legs as he left the campus, earphones plugged in and some rap playlist playing some Eminem song to drown out the erotic images in his head.

The ride to his apartment was a really short one, and within fifteen minutes of leaving the library, he was climbing up the stairs to his first floor flat.

He switched off the distractingly good music as he unlocked the door. He was pleasantly surprised to find out his distraction had worked, when the sight of your side profile as you sat huddled up on the couch in a t-shirt and shorts with your hair in a bun atop your head didn’t cause any stirrings in his pants.

“Hey!” he greeted you, shutting and locking the door behind him as he moved to hang up his keys on his designated hook next to the door.

“You were out till late,” you mumbled, sulky face giving him a once over before you went back to stare at the TV.

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat. You could not be wearing this expression because he was late, could you?

He dared not hope.

Toeing off his shoes, he gave a shrug. “The weather was nice, out there. Kinda stayed and lounged around the gardens on campus,” he lied, knowing full well that you’d bombard him with a million questions if he told you he had uncharacteristically stayed at the library. “Lost track of time.”

You simply hummed in response, looking almost petulant as you crossed your arms against your chest with a pout. "I got some fried chicken on my way back, it's in the fridge," you spoke in pout. "Have some if you want."

"I will, in a while, yeah. Thanks." Jimin bit his lip to hold back an amused smile, endeared by your cuteness and welcoming the fucking change in his channel of thoughts. “What’s up with you, though, grumpy? You okay?” he asked you, walking up to his room to toss his belongings in.

“I’m not grumpy,” you called out very grumpily, and this time Jimin let a hearty laugh escape him. “Don’t lau~gh!” you whined.

Jimin quickly switched out his jeans for a pair of sweatpants, not bothering to shut his door when he knew you were seated facing the opposite side. He wouldn’t even mind if you did look, he was wearing his boxers, it won’t be that bad.

Was he…perhaps…hoping you would look?

Jimin cleared his throat to derail that train of thoughts before it could end up being a devastating trainwreck.

"Come on, what is it?" he asked again, walking towards the fridge to extract a bottle of water. "You get graded today, or something?"

You scoffed at that. "I'm above letting my grades dictate my mood, Park, you know that! Not that I have room to complain when I've never gotten anything less than perfect," you smugly said, shooting him a smirk over your shoulder.

He had to work very hard to not choke on the next sip of water he took. He quickly capped the bottle and put it back to avoid any further incidents. Why did you have to look so goddamn hot doing literally absolutely everything?

Jimin walked up to crash on the couch next to you, hooking a knee over the armrest and letting the other leg spread out towards the floor. One of his arms dangled off the back of the couch while he ran the other hand through his hair with a roll of his eyes. He purposely faced away from you.

"Sure, never – except that one time. Basically the only time it really mattered," Jimin teased, bringing up last year's fall semester.

"What?" You looked confused with a frown on your face.

Jimin chuckled. "Yeah, sure. As if you would ever forget failing that test. As if I didn't hear you lament about getting rejected from that one sorority for literal weeks."

"Oh!" you sounded genuinely surprised this time, and he chanced a curious glance.

Only to find you looking at the TV with a frown. Were you really that preoccupied? You couldn't possibly have actually forgotten, it was one of the biggest failures of your life. Or so you had said, back then.

"Yeah, but it's kinda good I got…y'know, rejected," you continued, lips morphing into a pout again and Jimin looked away. "I'm not even friends with Kira anymore, and she was why I wanted to join that srat in the first place.”

Jimin felt bummed. He was almost hoping you’d say it was good you got rejected because you found him. Like, not like that, but as friends. Because you guys were pretty good friends, and putting the sexual attraction aside—though it really was damn near impossible for him to even envision not being attracted to you—he was grateful you got rejected from that sorority because he cherished your company as a friend a lot.

You were a good listener, a fun drink buddy and, most importantly, you made some mean fried rice. It was the best he ever had, okay? It reminded him of his mother's cooking! He wasn't made of stone to not grow soft at that!

“Anyways! Grades are not the reason,” you said with an even more defined pout on your face.

Jimin gave a small hum, smiling fondly. “The reason for? Your grumpiness? So, you admit you’re being grumpy!”

You stuck your tongue out at him in response, and Jimin froze, fondness slipping from his mind as lust gripped at him.

The sight of your tiny, pink, glossy tongue nearly made his vision go blurry with the blood rush that took place in him. His sweatpants could not have been doing a good job of hiding his erection, but he could not be bothered to think past the images flooding him.

A kaleidoscope of carnality burst open in his head, every single one of the pieces featuring your tongue smoothing over a different part of his body – flicking over his nipple, licking down his neck, diving between his abs, dipping into his navel… tangling up with his own… wrapping around the tip of his—

“Jimin?”

He blinked, snapping his involuntarily gaping mouth shut with a clack. He could only imagine how starved his eyes must have looked, going by the desperate longing that seared through him. He was very nearly salivating over you, sitting one foot away from you! And he was painfully hard.

He had also, very inconveniently, not heard a word of what you just said.

Covertly lowering his leg from the handrest to loosen up some of the fabric of his sweatpants over his crotch, Jimin shook his head to physically dissipate the daze fuzzing up his head.

Fucking hell, he was way too much sexually pent up!

“Sorry, sorry, I zoned out,” he mumbled in apology, pulling his gaze off your frowning face to look at the TV. You were watching some American sitcom he knew nothing about. He focussed on a bald, skinny guy that was poking his nose and willed his arousal to calm down. “You were saying?”

“Can you please stop daydreaming when I’m in a crisis?” you grumbled.

Jimin nearly scoffed. If only it were that easy to control his head. He was nearly in a crisis, too, at this point. His eyebrows suddenly rose when it registered. “Wait, crisis? What happened?”

“Um… you remember the guy I told you about? This morning?” you sounded nervous, and his heartbeat picked up.

Oh, he remembered, alright.

Jimin’s throat bobbed with a dry click.

“Uh huh?” he managed to mumble, bracing himself.

"I think he's got a nice dick."

Jimin wasn't even drinking water, he choked on fucking air.

Your concerned voice said something, but Jimin couldn't hear you over his hacking coughs and the pulse pounding loudly in his ears.

What the fuck did you just say?

What?

WHAT?

"Jimin!"

He dry-heaved, wiping at his watering eyes when he could finally breathe easily. "I'm sorry… I was… I just…" he panted between long, drawn out breaths.

You looked concerned and confused. "Are you okay? You're being weird. Did something happen at college?"

Jimin vehemently shook his head. "I had psych today, my mind’s just in a bad space."

You pursed your lips, seemingly not believing him, but thankfully let it go.

So you thought your mystery guy had a nice dick.

Jimin's spirits fizzled away like froth. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him, because you didn't know what his dick looked like.

Well, not unless you'd been a pervert and peeked. Which he really didn't believe you had done or would ever do.

But then again, you said you "thought" the guy's dick was nice. Implying, you could very well be using your imagination and fantasizing.

You could still, hypothetically, be talking about Ryan Reynolds.

He needed more information.

He cleared his throat, this time bracing himself for any more bombshells you could possibly drop on him. He breathed through his nose and vowed to not gasp no matter what came out of your mouth in response to his question.

"So… his dick, huh?" he asked, trying to be as casual as he could be, putting a curved index finger in front of his lips as he stared at the TV. He could’ve been asking about the weather, given the casual aura he eluded. "Did you, uh, see it?"

He sensed you shrug in his periphery. "Not really. Just the outline. The bulge, if you may. And it looked so good, Jimin," you nearly moaned and he nearly became hard again.

Because—

Fuck.

You had seen a bulge.

It could very well have been his bulge.

In fact, there was a very, very high possibility that it was his bulge, given how careless he'd recently been about stripping down to his boxers where you could see him. Like, subtly, of course, but still. He left his room's door open when he changed, these days. You were in your room, and if not, sat with your back to his room and your eyes glued to the TV screen, the way you had been this evening. But you could very easily look if you tried.

You could really have seen his bulge.

And thought that it looked nice.

So much so, that you considered yourself to be in a crisis right now, just thinking about it.

His breath hitched. Was he dreaming?

A voice from the back of his mind suddenly slid to the forefront:

You could also, just as plausibly, be talking about Ryan Reynolds' dick!

Jimin swore to himself under his breath.

You really could still be talking about literally anybody because guys tended to be casual about their semis. Pair that up with tightly fitted jeans or thin clothed sweatpants, and the result would be what you saw: a dick's outline. Celebrities were sometimes photographed that way, too.

"Why're you distressed, hun?" he quizzed further, hoping you wouldn't catch the lower octave his disappointed voice had taken.

“I just…I wanna suck it. His cock."

"What the—" Jimin broke off, remembering his plans of breathing through the nose and not gasping.

"What?" you irritably threw a scowl his way. "Don't be a prude, you've heard worse from me."

Jimin nodded with a grimace. He indeed, very painfully, had. "I, uh…" He paused to clear his throat. "Why's — why's that a crisis?"

You looked at him as if he was stupid. Which he really, really was, but probably not for the reasons you thought. "Jimin! How am I supposed to ask a guy to suck his dick when I haven't even seen his dick? That'd be so slutty!"

Jimin licked his lips, his eyes zeroing in on your plump ones. Yep, he could totally picture it and it looked more than slutty — it looked obscene and depraved and filthy and sexy as fuck.

He harshly exhaled through his mouth. Why was he being tested like this? What had he ever done to deserve this torture? Did some previous jaded lover of his do some black magic on him? Or worse yet, did some previous jaded lover of his put you up to this task of teasing and torturing him to the brink of insanity?

Jimin pulled his lower lip into his mouth. "Don't judge." He let go of his lip with a pop, his voice coming out borderline raspy. His eyes wandered away from you when he figured he would probably command you to look at him with his next words. "Some guys like it slutty. Maybe your – maybe yours would be into it."

God knew Jimin was. So, so super into it.

You hummed, thoughtfully. "You don't think it'd turn him off?"

"Not in the least," Jimin murmured, gaze snapped back to yours, lips parting as he gulped a heavy breath in. You were looking away in thought. "I think it'd drive him insane."

"So, what? I just – tell him?"

"Depends," Jimin throatily responded, a complete goner now with his semi-erect cock marking a wet spot against his sweatpants, and visions of your thighs wrapped around his waist running free in his head, now that he didn't try to rein them in, anymore. "If he's someone that likes to be told, you do that. But if he's someone who likes to tell," Jimin paused, waiting for you to connect your clueless eyes with his, "you ask him."

Your lips parted and eyes widened. "You – you mean, like, seek permission? To suck his cock? What kind of a guy would ever say no to that?"

A cocky smirk ticked up Jimin's cheek. "The kind that doesn't feel you deserve it."

He saw it – the momentary glaze that cast over your eyes – it wasn't a trick of the light from the TV, your pupils had actually, really expanded.

But then you blinked and your nose wrinkled up. "You're into some kinky dom shit, aren't you, Park?"

And just like that, the trance broke and Jimin floated back to earth. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, well aware of the pink climbing up his cheeks.

He forced a roll of his eyes. "Just ask him, you little shit," he muttered, crossly. "It's just as you said, no guy would reject a proffered blowjob."

He almost hoped you would ask him.

Almost.

He kept observing you from the corner of his eye as you kept worrying your bottom lip, gaze hung on some invisible point in space. And then you started to nod, looking resolute as you raised your head to meet his eyes.

His heart stopped when you opened your mouth to speak.

“Okay. Uh, yeah, I’ll ask him. Yep, that’s—that’s a great idea. Thanks, Jimin,” you mumbled in a rush, looking somewhat out of it, probably because you were picturing asking the guy.

And just like that, Jimin sank into himself.

He gave you a brittle smile as you nodded at him. “No problem. Always happy to help,” he said, the words acerbic in his mouth.

You proceeded to get up from the couch. “Alright then, I’m off to sleep. Got a seven am class tomorrow,” you told him, but his helpless eyes were stuck to the strip of your golden skin visible above your shorts as your shirt rose – a hint of your gorgeous butterfly tattoo peeked out, taunting him.

He wanted to trace its royal blue wings with his tongue. Jimin licked his lips, gaze gliding past your plump ass to land on your thighs. He drank them up while you stretched, trying hard and failing at his attempts to not imagine his teeth digging into the softness of your skin as you writhed underneath him.

“Good night, Chim.”

At his nickname, Jimin swapped his eyes up to meet yours. You were already looking at him, but he found no annoyance or even suspicion in them. Had you not noticed him eye-fucking you? His brows furrowed a bit.

“Yeah, good night,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes to the view of your jiggling butt as you walked away.

Jimin released a deep sigh.

Even after a whole year of him making eyes at you, you were interested in sucking other dicks. Why was he even bothering anymore?

He was gonna forget all about your thighs and your ass when he looked at the most deliciously curvaceous pair of hips he’d ever seen, again, tomorrow, he promised himself. He would ogle them lewdly, drink his fill. He would replace every lustful desire he ever had for you by directing it towards someone else. He would.

But tonight, he would have to be the weaker man one last time and soothe his day-long blue balls by the aid of his fantasies of your naked body in his arms.

God, he was pathetic.

Taehyung's sexting with the Curvaceous Goddess from yesterday morning had progressed drastically. The guy could barely speak over the drool in his mouth.

"She's sent me multiple shots of those hips, man," Taehyung mumbled with a barely held back moan as Jimin made his way out of the psych class with him. "And a couple of her boobs. Gotta admit, though, I didn't pay that much attention to them. But her nipples look really biteable. Do you wanna see?”

Jimin very reluctantly shook his head. He was barely able to handle himself with the one picture he’d seen. Anymore, and he’d been walking around the college building with an erection.

Taehyung shrugged. “Your call. Hey, maybe I should ask her for some close-ups of those areolas! I gotta…" trailing off in a mumble, Taehyung started to furiously type on his phone.

Staying true to the promise he made to himself, Jimin had dutifully spent the entirety of the class staring at the woman's picture from yesterday – saving her gorgeous body's every texture, every blemish and every beauty mark to his memory. So that it'd be this body that came to his mind when he tightened his fist over himself in the middle of the night.

Not to be too sickeningly romantic, but his wank bank needed a desperate overhaul if he was ever going to stop being pathetic. He was done envisioning his roommate in positions he would never actually get to see her in. Or, at least, he should have been done. He was sure as hell gonna work on it, though.

And maybe, just maybe, this exercise would get him back in the game and he would actually be able to fuck people without your face in his head to push him over the edge.

"She says she'd send her ass when she gets back from class, today!" Taehyung suddenly exclaimed, waving the chat screen of his phone in front of Jimin's face. "Wow, dude, this girl is something else."

Jimin gave a small rise to his brows at Taehyung's lovestruck eyes. The dude literally fell in love every week, it wouldn't be a surprise if he felt he'd fallen again. Even when he hadn't seen the girl's face, yet alone actually met her in person.

"Show me, too, when you get it."

Taehyung shot him a grin. "See, that's the kind of stuff I like hearing from you, Park! We're young, we're warm blooded – the world expects us to be perverted. We're literally being disappointments by showing morals."

Jimin had to laugh at that, choosing to see the words in a humorous light instead of beginning to correct them. 'Cause where to even start? And knowing how much he did of Taehyung, the guy most definitely believed in his flawed logic, wholeheartedly.

"So, where to, next?"

Jimin hummed. "I got Econometrics in half an hour. Probably gonna crash in the cafeteria. You?"

Taehyung looked lost in thoughts, looking straight up ahead. Jimin knocked shoulders with him to grab the guy’s attention, causing Taehyung to look at him with a start. "Uh? Oh! I was actually thinking I'd pay her a visit. I've got Music Theory in three hours. Much time to spare."

Jimin's jaw dropped open. "You – you're gonna visit her? You don't even know her name, dude! Or what she looks like!"

Taehyung blinked, very slowly, before letting a smirk curl up his face. He raised an eyebrow. "And she doesn't know any of that about me, either. But… I wasn't actually talking about her, Park."

Jimin gawped. "What? But you—"

"I was talking about her," Taehyung emphasized with a finger pointing at a girl standing a few feet away from them, eyeing Taehyung with her tongue flicking her lips.

Jimin blanched. Oh fuck, this was embarrassing.

"Although," Taehyung continued because the subtle humiliation had apparently not been enough, "I do see what goes on in your head, Park. Despite your strict moral code."

Jimin rolled his eyes. "We were just talking about her, dude, come on."

"Uh huh. That is exactly why you sounded so panicked and jealous, too, right?"

This time, Jimin scoffed. "I was certainly not jealous. Or panicked. I was taken aback."

Taehyung laughed. "Sure, buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Or, stay awake at night, in this case."

Jimin was left fuming as Taehyung made his way over to the girl he’d actually been talking about. He had to admit, he did feel somewhat foolish. It wasn’t like him to zone out so badly, or not be able to catch the context of a conversation like this, or not be aware of his surroundings. He’d always been remarkably sharp at it, in fact. And if his brain hadn’t been all jumbled since last night, he still would’ve been.

With a silent curse aimed at himself, Jimin stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark pants and started walking towards the cafeteria.

If all boiled down to it, it wasn’t even his fault that he was so lost. It was yours.

Jimin grimaced when last night’s events floated up to the forefront of his brain. He really did not need a reminder to feel worse about his situation with you. For a few moments, today, he’d even wondered if it would be better for you two to stop living together. But he would never in a million years kick you out, and he himself was way too selfish to willingly leave your shared living spaces.

Stepping into the cafeteria, he beelined for the counter. Ordering himself a mocha and a puff pastry, he pulled his phone out.

Only for his brows to jump when he discovered two unread messages from you.

roomie🌸💗 anthro proff failed to show up yAY ME going back home

Jimin rolled his lower lip between his teeth. Why were you being a good friend when he wanted to avoid you? You were making everything hard in his life – figuratively and literally.

With a snort at his own joke, he sent back a string of emojis and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

In the middle of his coffee and snack, he let his mind be plagued by the images of Taehyung’s nudes girl.

Ew. He needed to refer to her with something better, because that was a huge turn off, right there.

Jimin suddenly realised that this could turn into a problem if Taehyung actually ended up pursuing something more than a one night stand with the girl. Because, after all, the girl was sending nudes to obviously pursue something with Taehyung. Jimin probably should not be worrying all that much because Taehyung wasn’t even the last guy he would picture getting into a relationship in the middle of Junior year.

But this whole switching-my-lust thing he was doing was still not very healthy, was it? No, it wasn’t.

Jimin realised that it was a borderline toxic coping mechanism. He needed closure to get over the unfortunate crush/obsession/infatuation he had on/of/with you. Replacing one obsession with another was counterproductivity at its best. But he really couldn't afford any closures, no matter what. The whole reason why he was so stuck was that he couldn’t risk your friendship with him because his hormones were out of control. Telling you to get over would defeat the whole purpose of getting over you.

So he had to make do with his next best option – making his dumb mind realise that there were other things to get turned on by than your thighs. Even if it ended up being slightly destructive. But it couldn’t really be that bad when he hadn’t even seen this girl’s face, right?

Probably not, but he didn’t care all that much.

Just as he’d gotten up to toss his empty cup and paper plate into the bin, his phone pinged with a message. Wondering—and somewhat hoping, like the pathetic idiot he was—if you were, uncharacteristically, informing him that you’d reached your flat, he quickly pulled the device out of his pocket.

By the time he unlocked it, three more successive messages had arrived in his inbox.

All of them were from Taehyung.

kim from psych ITS HEREEEE COME TO TJE PARKIMG LOT HOLY FUCKLKLKKK JIMINNNMM SJE HAS A TATTOO ASDFKKHHGDHSJ HURTY THE FUVK UP IMA START JACKIJG OFF SOOM

Jimin cursed under his breath, grabbing his backpack to rush out of the cafeteria.

His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he jogged down to the parking lot. He was gonna miss his class – and Econometrics was one of the important subjects – but he honestly couldn’t be bothered, right now.

He was slightly out of breath by the time he reached Taehyung.

The guy really did look like he was minutes away from unzipping his pants right there, sitting on the hood of what was probably his own car. Huffing out a small laugh, Jimin walked up to him.

“So,” Jimin said as a means of greeting. “That good, huh?”

Taehyung’s trousers were very obviously tented, and despite the grossness, Jimin couldn’t judge him. He’d nearly had a similar reaction to the girl’s hips. He could sympathize with the guy.

“Kim?” Jimin called out with a laugh, making Taehyung startledly look up from his phone with his pupils swallowing nearly the entirety of his irises. “Holy shit, don’t come in your pants, dude!”

Taehyung released a pained groan, face contorting as if he was in actual, physical pain. Going by the condition of his crotch, he might actually have been. “Park,” he nearly moaned, “she told me to video call.”

Jimin's eyes widened in surprise. “Wow, dude. Congrats… I guess?”

Taehyung bit his lip, finally repositioning himself to make his erection slightly more covert. “I'm not ready, dude.”

Jimin cocked a single brow. “Evidence says you’re more than ready, Tae. Um, on that account,” he hesitantly began, almost not wanting to but knowing his inner moral compass would keep him awake through multiple nights on end if he didn’t. “You don’t have to show me the picture if things are, um, progressing between you guys. It’d be mo—”

“Don’t you fucking say morally wrong, you ass. I’m trying to fuck her, not marry her. You can even have a go after—” He suddenly cut himself off, frowning down at his crotch. “Awh, man, there goes my boner! Why’d you have to make me talk about relationships?”

JImin stifled a laugh. Taehyung was the poster child for college fuckboys, it seemed. Not that he didn’t know the fact beforehand, it was just hilarious and more than a little awakening to see him go through it, up close. “Um, sorry?”

“Just look at the fucking picture, Park!” Taehyung snarled, shoving his phone in Jimin’s unprepared hands.

Juggling a bit to catch the device before it could drop, Jimin had barely held the phone with the screen facing him, when—

He froze.

His breath halted and his heart skipped a couple of beats.

Everything around him came to an immediate, screeching stop.

He didn’t even have the time to ogle the glorious twin globes separated by a thin strip of burgundy red running down the middle, because his attention was caught by—

Holy fuck, he was so so so royally fucked, thoroughly, in every single orifice in his body.

There, in the smack dab center of the screen, right above the barely there string of the red thong running across the luscious hips he’d fallen in love with in just a day — there sat his undoing.

A bright, royal blue and black butterfly tattoo.

The butterfly tattoo he’d been peeking at for a year now.

Your butterfly tattoo.

Holy fuck.

HOLY! FUCK!

“See?” Taehyung’s whiny voice pulled him out of the despairing pool of absolute shock, blinding lust and utter agony he was spiraling into. “I can’t, man, I really can’t. If this is what her pictures do to me, oh God, the video call’s gonna kill me. And I can’t fucking wait to die a sated man!”

Taehyung’s words suddenly poured a bucket of iced water over Jimin, making him bodily jolt out of the remainder of his stupor.

The reality of the situation suddenly hit him – you’d been sending your nude pictures to Kim Taehyung. You were about to have a video chat with him. You intended to fuck him. Taehyung. Kim motherfucking Taehyung.

Oh no. Not on Jimin’s watch.

Molten jealousy filled up all his veins as he saw Taehyung getting comfortable in the backseat of his car with all the tinted glass windows. This fucker.

Uncaring how barbaric it made him out to be, Jimin decided he was not gonna let Taehyung actually see you on video before he’d at least had the chance to confront you about this whole thing. From what he knew of you and how much he understood, you weren’t the kind of girl to fall into the traps of the biggest fuckboy on our campus. There had to have been a major reason behind these actions of yours.

He had to talk to you — if not as someone who wanted to be the one to fuck you instead of Taehyung, then at least a friend and a well wisher who was worried about your well-being and emotional health.

“You can’t call her, Kim,” Jimin declared with a calm finality.

Taehyung did a double take. “Wh—did you say can’t? What? Why the fuck?”

“You just… shouldn’t. It’s not fair to her.” Jimin was really on the verge of a mental freak out.

“What the fuck, dude?” Taehyung looked irritated and more than a little indignant. “Fair to her? Who’re you, her caretaker all of a sudden? She literally asked for it!”

Jimin pursed his lips, swinging the phone out of his reach when Taehyung made to grab it. “You should tell her you showed me her pictures before you call her.”

“Dude! No, the fuck? Stop being a moral fucker! Is this girl your sister? Your girlfriend?” Taehyung looked a bit lost at Jimin’s sudden distress.

Jimin frowned. “No, none of those, but she’s—”

“Wait, so you do know her?” Taehyung looked surprised, and Jimin was surprised that he’d actually shown some use of his brain. “How’d you even recognise her? Wait! The tattoo?”

Jimin looked away, bitterly. “Yeah, the tattoo.” He exhaled, deciding to be upfront. “Look, Kim. I’ve been besotted with this girl for a really long time, okay? So—”

“So nothing, man! I didn’t come at her, okay? She was the one to approach me, and really boldly too with that nude of hers.” Taehyung suddenly narrowed his eyes. “And how can I even believe you? Maybe you’re lying because suddenly you wanna fuck her first!”

Jimin rolled his eyes, but Taehyung’s words did reach him. You really had approached Taehyung boldly. It hurt like a bitch that you were willing to fuck the campus fuckboy, actual personification of scum, but not him. Not Jimin, who cared about you enough to not try to fuck you.

What a world.

“She’s told me to be online at—oh fuck, in ten minutes! Give me my phone before I tackle you, Park!” Taehyung yelled from inside the car.

Jimin pursed his lips in thought. You had texted him about being home, hadn’t you? If he left now, he could get there in under ten minutes, and—

And what, then?

Well, at least talk to you before you showed Taehyung your face and cemented your place in the guy’s bed.

Mind made up, Jimin tossed Taehyung’s phone below the driver’s seat to buy him more time as he ran for it.

“Hey, hey, what—Park, you fucking bitch!”

Ignoring Taehyung’s calls, Jimin rushed through the college gates and sprinted down the sidewalk. Shouldering people out of his way—but also mumbling a litany of apologies along with it because he could picture his mother’s disapproving gaze—he didn’t even pause to catch his breath until he was scrambling down the stairs of the subway.

As fate would have it, the doors of the parked train were just beginning to slide shut when Jimin set foot on the platform.

Cursing, he leapt from the last stair, his feet meeting the ground just twice as he dived into the train, two seconds before the gates sealed shut.

Doing a victorious, little fist pump, he finally allowed himself to catch his breath, leaning his hands on his knees. When he straightened, a couple of people around him were looking at him weird. But he couldn’t let anything bother him — he was a man on a mission.

Within three minutes, the train was stopping at the next stop and Jimin was running out the gates and straight out of the subway.

As he stepped up the stairs to his flat, sweat was soaking his white t-shirt and he was hating himself for wearing skin tight jeans. Jogging up to the door, he quickly unlocked the apartment and rushed in, locking the door behind him. Haphazardly taking his shoes off and tossing the keys somewhere on the couches, he beelined for your room.

Hesitating only once, he turned the doorknob. It was locked.

You were getting ready to have virtual sex with Taehyung.

Clenching his jaw, he rapped his palm against the door thrice, his rings helping louden the sound.

He fidgeted, nervous out of his mind. He couldn’t even think about what he would say to you, way too occupied with the task of stopping you from making that call to Taehyung.

He called your name, followed by two more successive raps.

For a frightening second, he feared he was too late and you had already started with your—

“Jimin, is that you?” you yelled from inside the door.

Jimin squared his shoulders. “Open up! It’s urgent!”

Sounds of shuffling filtered through the door to him before you unlocked it and nearly tore it off the hinges with the strength you pulled it open with.

“What?” you barked, scowling at him. But then suddenly your frown melted away as your eyes did a quick sweep of his breathless, sweaty self, lingering—he noticed—around his neck. “What the hell, Jimin? Where’re you coming from?”

Jimin decided to do some exploration of his own.

Your face was flushed, chest heaving up and down—

And—

And Jimiin was fixated on your prominent nipples pushing against the oversized black t-shirt you’d obviously tossed over yourself in a hurry. He’d glimpsed your breasts in that very delicious photo, of course, but he’d fixated on your hips and not paid them enough attention. He regretted saying no to Taehyung's offer of looking at the boob pic you’d sent him, because…

Jimin’s thoughts faded out when he came back to himself.

You had sent Taehyung a pic of your boobs, too. The way Jimin felt like punching through a fucking wall!

“Stop staring at my boobs, pervert!” you suddenly scolded him, clicking your fingers in front of his face. “What was so urgent? I’m kinda in the middle of—”

“Please don’t do it,” he blurted, wide-eyed at his own brazenness, but he just felt so desperate, at this point.

You gaped at him. “What?”

“Don’t – don’t fuck him, please,” he continued arms darting forward to hold you by your shoulders.

You stiffened in his grasp, eyes going impossibly wide. “Jimin, what—are you – are you okay? What the fuck are you even talking about?”

He grew pained. “Taehyung. Don’t fuck him.”

He saw you draw in a sharp breath. “I wasn’t actually—wait, how do you know this?”

He rolled his lower lip into his mouth. “Well…he told me.”

You jumped away from him with your mouth dropped open. “What? How the hell do you even knowhim?”

“I sit with him in my psych class."

"In your psych—" You suddenly gasped. "The eccentric fuckboy!”

Jimin blinked, lip leaving the confines of his teeth with a plop. He didn’t miss the way your eyes dropped down to it for a moment. “What?”

“After your first class together, you told me you'd found a fuckboy with eccentric fashion choices to sit with. You said his name was Tannie! You have his number saved under Kim from psych!"

Jimin winced. "He’d told me way too much about himself, I messed up some details. Tannie’s his dog’s name."

“So, Taehyung is the eccentric fuckboy you sit next to, for an hour, three days a week."

"Yep."

“Oh, my God, this is fucked up,” you wailed, turning around to pace next to your bed, hands sifting through your open hair.

Jimin eyed the laptop on your bed. It suddenly came back to him – you’d seen Taehyung’s dick’s outline. You wanted to suck that abominable, STD infested, overused dick.

Jimin really hated his life, right now.

“So, don’t do it,” he tried again, walking into your room with authority he didn’t have. “Please.”

You looked at him with a scowl, face pulled in around your scrunched up nose in the middle. “Stop saying that!"

“Why do you even wanna?” Jimin whined, sounding more than a little sulky as he stood in your way, prompting you to stop walking. “He’s, like, the most despicable fuckboy on campus!”

“Well, that’s exactly why! I don’t need his heart, I just need his dick!” you crudely told him, throwing both your arms up. “It helps that it comes with explosive reviews from the entire female population on campus. I’ve had a frustrating couple of weeks, and, ugh. I really don't have any energy or patience to go through trials and errors to finally find someone who won’t disappoint.”

Jimin was breathing heavily after you finished speaking. You were that desperate for a fuck?

He dragged his heavy gaze over your body, bottom to top – you were barefoot with your toenails painted a gorgeous shade of royal blue, your bare calves were toned, slowly expanding into thighs that were—fuck. These thighs were ultimate ruiners of his sleep, God.

Your hands were balled at your sides. The oversized t-shirt you wore ended mid-thighs on your body, wrapping over your hips that he now knew to be juicy as fuck, and proceeded to tent at your breasts where your nipples were still fully erect and intending to cut through cloth.

The neck of the t-shirt was wide enough to let your collarbones be on complete display. Jimin held in a groan of want, pulling his lower lip in as he followed the smooth line of your long neck all the way up to your face. Your lips were redder than he was used to. You were wearing lipstick, he realised with a start, mouth falling open in surprise. Your eyes were lined with something, too, making them sharper than usual.

You were dressed to seduce, and he was trapped under your spell.

You looked good enough to eat.

What wouldn’t he give to be able to toss you onto this very bed and fuck the living daylights out of you…

“I can’t believe that fucker really told you,” your mumble suddenly brought him out of his lewd musings, and he adjusted his legs to be covert about his hardening length.

“Isn’t it typical of him? What else did you expect?” Jimin shrugged. “He also very nearly circulated the first nude you sent him to half the college campus. He literally bullied me into seeing it.”

Your face suddenly colored. “You… you saw my pictures?” you asked him in a small voice.

Jimin noticed how you focussed on the latter part of the sentence, and not the—evidently more concerning—former. Interesting.

“Just the first one.” His voice came out hoarse, throat suddenly very dry at the memory. “And then the last one, briefly. I recognized your tattoo…”

His eyes travelled down to your waist of their own accord, images and scenes running wild in his head. Those hips. Those delicious fucking hips were right here, within his reach. And they belonged to you — the girl of his fantasies of over a year.

Jimin exhaled brokenly, trying to calm himself down.

“Why are you stopping me?” you asked him in a mumble, sitting down on your bed. “I’m not trying to marry him, just hop on his dick for some gratification. I’m even gonna block his number after.”

He looked back up at your face, only to draw in a sharp breath. Your eyes were so so dark. His own probably mirrored yours.

He couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I…could possibly have an offer for an alternative. A better, less emotionally damaging and certainly more STD-proof alternative.”

Your lips quirked to the side. You leant back on the bed, supporting your weight on your palms, and crossed your legs.

Jimin’s gaze immediately zeroed in on your smooth thighs, and the desire to bury his face between them nearly incinerated him from within.

“Is that so?” Your voice had turned breathy. “Better alternative, huh? Got any testimonials to back it up?”

Holy fuck, were you really responding to his flirting?

“Not really,” Jimin murmured. And even though he did have a slew of ex partners that could vouch for his sexual prowess, he just wasn’t the kind of guy to brag so brazenly about all that. He licked his lips, taking a tentative step closer to you as he came up with a more tantalising offer. “You could sample it.”

Lust flooded your gaze, making it darker than he’d ever seen it in his life. Even if your words from yesterday morning had, apparently, not meant what he’d hoped for them to, this, right here – the naked want on your face, told him a whole different story. It felt unreal, and he wasn’t certain this wasn’t just a fever dream. But if it was a fever dream, he was gonna make it one hell of a memorable one.

When your hands nimbly reached out to wordlessly shut your laptop, moved closer to you, leaning a bit to catch your gaze.

“Would you like to?” he mumbled, softly.

Your breath stuttered out in response.

“Taehyung promised me he’d choke me on his cock,” you told him so abruptly, he almost gasped out loud.

But then Jimin clenched his jaw and walked even closer. He stepped between your legs and slid a hand into your hair, cupping your head with his fingers and massaging the skin behind your ear with his thumb. “Is that something you want, baby?” he breathed out, relishing the way your eyelashes fluttered at his touch. Or maybe his words, he wasn’t sure. “Hmm?”

Your tongue licked at your bottom lip, dragging a salacious path against the plump flesh until the red matte lipstick was glossy with your saliva. Jimin wanted to suck on it until it was red without the makeup’s tint, too.

“What do you think, Park?”

Something about the way you spoke his surname in a challenging tone had him going rock hard in his pants. He wanted to ruin you.

“Oh, I think you do,” he whispered, tugging your head up to straighten your body from its recline.

Your chin came to the same level as his belt. His whole body shuddered when you accidentally brushed against it.

“And I’ll make you choke on it, alright,” he continued, “after which I’ll make you clench on it, make you drench it with your juices. And if you’re good, maybe I’ll choke you without it, too.”

Your irises were twin black disks as you stared into his eyes with your breath bated. “Shit, Park, I…” You shook your head, pulling your lower lip into your mouth. “You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned, eyes sliding shut, and brought both your palms up to bunch into his t-shirt.

A small smirk slid up Jimin’s face. “Is that so?” he murmured, thrilled by the look of torture on your face when your brows scrunched up. “Well, sweetheart, you happen to be the sexiest, most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. And even though I’ve acquired evidence to support my claim very recently, I’ve told you this multiple times before,” he mumbled, mouth watering at the sight of you nibbling on your lip.

Your heavy lidded eyes met his as you slowly opened them again. “You have, but… never with this look in your eyes.” Your breath hitched, one of your hands leaving his shirt to wander the length of his torso, lingering near the end of his abs. He held back a shiver. “Like you want to rip my clothes off and devour me whole, this very moment.”

Jimin’s nostrils flared, teeth grinding even harder. Oh, how he wanted that. How he wanted exactly that.

“Oh, sweetheart, I do intend to do that and more. Lay you bare beneath me, touch every single inch of your body. And then let my tongue follow.”

You made a small sound from the back of your throat and Jimin very nearly came in his pants. “What’s the hold up, then? All I hear are promises, Park. Where’s the delive—”

With a growl, Jimin tightened his grip on the back of your neck and pulled your face in to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, effectively shutting you up and fulfilling your demand at the same time.

The first contact was, very poetically, electric. Current zapped through his body, beginning where your soft lips had molded against his in acceptance, and reaching all the way down to his semi-erect length. Which was now starting to painfully strain against his too tight jeans.

Your mouth opened up to him, and he swallowed your moan of want when his tongue brushed against yours. He poured all his pent up feelings and desires into the kiss, pressing harder against you when you pliantly tilted your head back to give him more room.

Jimin couldn’t fathom he was kissing you. Finally, fucking finally, after more than a year of lusting for these lips — he finally had them entwined with his own. He lost his mind somewhere in between the soft pull of your even softer lips, harsh nips of your teeth, smooth glides of your tongue.

And then he grabbed a handful of your hips, and went feral.

With a grunt, Jimin opened his mouth wider, licking into yours between harshly sucking on your tongue. It was a mess — sloppy and wet and desperate when he explored your mouth with full fervor, tongue curling against the inner seams of your lips.

Your hand slid over his waist, leaving fire in its wake as it slid past his t-shirt to trace the tight muscles of his abdomen. Jimin brought his other hand to rest next to you on the bed, now leaning over you.

His lungs were protesting for air, but he just couldn’t get enough of your taste. It was you that finally pulled away, panting heavily into his mouth.

Jimin blinked, struggling to come out of the daze you’d put him in. He looked at your parted lips, hunger building up in him when he saw the smudges of your lipstick around them. Your wide eyes gazed up at him with so much naked lust, holy fuck. He so very desperately wanted you naked.

“You want this?” he asked you, testing his own restraint when his length ached from being confined for so long in its rock hard state.

You looked too delirious to respond, nodding very slowly with your eyes nearly glazing over as your gaze lowered to look at his crotch.

“Say the words, sweetheart. This is about consent, I’m not trying to force you into something you’re hesitant about,” Jimin unnecessarily clarified, well aware of how both of your bodies were vibrating with need.

“Jimin, for God’s sake, stop talking and fuck me,” you gritted out, grabbing hold of his t-shirt and tugging at it until he was raising himself off the bed to get rid of it.

Tossing it aside, he raked a hand through his hair and peered down at you. Your mouth hung open, eyes seeming to drink him up.

Well, good for you, because he was losing his sanity with every passing second that he was spending close to you but not close enough.

“As you wish, sweetheart,” he mumbled before moving to unbuckle his belt and quickly unbutton his jeans in succession.

He stopped there, though, and caught hold of your hand when you tried to reach for his waistband. He shook his head when your eyes shot to his.

“Your turn.”

He saw your throat move on a gulp. You skittered back on the bed, rising up on your knees when you’d reached the center. He followed you, placing a knee on your bed to get to you.

Your fingers trembled as they reached for the hem of your t-shirt, with suppressed want or nervousness, Jimin couldn't tell. He was a mixture of both.

He watched, breathing completely ceased, as the t-shirt rose and unleashed more and more of your smooth skin. When you raised it above your waist, he sucked in a large breath, eyes widened, jaw dropped open and body nearly quivering with want.

Your hips.

Your juicy fucking hips.

They were right there, calling out to him with their hourglass curve as they tapered into your trim waist with a soft abdomen. You wore a tiny, burgundy scrap of lace as a substitute for underwear, and he recalled it to be the thong he’d barely caught a glimpse of in the picture of your ass.

Your breasts bounced free, next, and Jimin moved his throat in a thick swallow, a palm cupping over his crotch. Your nipples were pebbled and juicy, and he just wanted to wrap his lips around them and suck to his heart’s content.

He shuffled forward on the bed when you got to your shoulders, helping you untangle your arms and hair from the piece of clothing.

Once the t-shirt was fully off, you looked at him with a bashful smile. “Why’re you gawking like that? You’ve seen it all before,” you mumbled, sitting back on your haunches, your own gaze rounding back to his torso.

“Pictures don’t hold a light for the real deal, holy fuck,” he managed to choke out.

Your coy smile turned challenging. “How do you know? You haven’t even touched, yet.”

The nerve of you to—

Jimin pounced, knocking you back into the mattress as he covered your body with his, making sure to press every inch of himself on you.

Your wide eyes looked at him in surprise but more than a little hunger, and oh did he want to take care of that.

One of his forearms dug into the bed next to your head while his other hand gripped at your shoulder. He hissed against your lips when your curves molded against him.

“You’re so fucking insufferable but so fucking delectable, fuck,” he gasped, unable to resist when his eyes fell onto your quivering lips, and kissed you again.

You moaned loudly into his mouth, not in the least bit shy about devouring his lips as messily as he did yours. Your tongue curled against his, making his insides turn to molten lava. He could feel your nipples against his chest and, his palm slid down your side, curving along your breast as it spanned down to—

Oh.

His palm met your hip and he was lost.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, digging his fingers in.

Your dark eyes looked back at him, shuttered, sensuous and perfectly fitting for the goddess that you were.

“Do you know how fucking long I've fantasized about having this body of yours under me, you minx?” he grumbled, sliding down your body.

His mouth latched onto your neck, both hands curving around your waist as he pressed kisses down the column of your throat. Your head fell back with a moan, granting him more access, and he took advantage of it, running his mouth up to your jaw, his tongue licking at your skin.

Your skin was so soft and smooth – even more than it looked.

He grazed his teeth against your jaw, pulling back to look at you.

Your eyes were shut, brows pinched, and mouth was hanging open in abandon. He leaned over your face to pull your bottom lip into his mouth. Giving it a hard suckle, he let go with a pop.

Your eyes fluttered open, looking at him with an intoxicated look on your face. “Jimin…”

“Yes, sweetheart?” His fingers dug into your waist.

“Touch me,” you whimpered, throat convulsing.

Jimin grinned. “I am.”

His palms slid down your sides, and as he met the curve of your hips again, his previous plans of teasing you flew out the window.

Holy fucking hell.

“These fucking hips,” he grit out, digging his fingers into the meaty flesh. “They’ve been driving me insane, do you know?”

You really did have the sexiest body he had ever seen. A perfect figure with enough chubbiness in places to make you feel soft, womanly and real. His eyes were caught by your abdomen and he leant down to press a kiss beneath your navel before he could think too much about it.

“You’re so soft and so delicious…”

You released a muted gasp in response, but he was too busy exploring the curve of your waist. His fingers ran over your smooth skin, nails scratching lightly. You jumped when he went a little rougher, and he gripped you harder, leaning down again, this time to suck open mouthed kisses over your waist, all the way from your navel to the dip in your side.

“Fuck, Jimin—”

You broke off on a gasp when his tongue met your skin, tracing wet paths, absorbing the taste to his memories. He groaned into your stomach, dragging his face over the flimsy waistband of your underwear. He moved to the side to tug at the string at your hip with his teeth, licking underneath it, and then dug his teeth into the delicious flesh beneath.

A moan slipped past his own lips, nearly drowning the stream of gasping sounds coming from you. He had his mouth on these goddess-like hips.

Finally, fucking finally.

“Jimin, Jimin, fuck—”

He tasted his fill, leaving kisses, and nipping, biting and licking you up as he desired. The delicate waistband of your thong was haphazardly pulled every which way, only barely covering your center as Jimin went about devouring you.

Your breathing was labored, chest heaving and shoulders twitching when he finally managed to pull himself off your body. He looked at you from under his brows. You had an arm folded over your forehead and the other hand fisted in your pillow. You already looked fucked out and he’d barely even done anything.

Pressing a hand down on your abdomen, he pulled your attention to him.

Your eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated and everything. Your lips were well-bitten, swollen and red. So fucking delicous.

He slid his palm up your torso, curving around your breast. You visibly trembled when he gave the rounded flesh a squeeze. Jimin loved the sight, moving his thumb to flick at your nipple.

“Jimin,” you breathed, hand moving from the pillow to grip at his wrist.

Jimin clicked his tongue, removing your hand. “Ah ah, no,” he murmured, voice deeper, loaded with arousal.

You mutely looked at him, eyes wide and irises nearly wholly eclipsed by your pupils.

He swiped his tongue over his lower lip, placing your arm above your head with the other one. He held both your wrists in his hand and tugged, causing your breasts to jiggle invitingly. Barely containing the wanton moan that swelled up in his throat at the sight, Jimin flicked your nipple again.

“These hands,” Jimin murmured, face lowered to your throat as he leant over you, “stay here. You move them, we stop. Understood?”

He dipped his head to lick at a sweat droplet collected between your collarbones. Your breath stuttered out and he saw you swallow.

Jimin drew back when he didn’t hear you respond.

You were panting, now, lower lip extended way past your jaw as you looked at him with your eyes rounded.

He raised an eyebrow. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

You gasped aloud, as if suddenly inhaling a lot of air after having stopped breathing for a few seconds. Maybe you had, you looked very much on the edge.

Your head jerked in a nod, fingers of both hands gingerly clasping together above your head.

“I’m gonna need your words, baby,” he prompted you in a low murmur. “And I better not have to repeat myself.”

You shut your mouth with a click, eyes widening just a tad bit. “I… yes,” you whispered, voice nothing but a hoarse whisper. “Yes, I understand.”

Jimin nodded, lowering his mouth to sweep his tongue over your neglected nipple before engulfing it whole. “Good,” he spoke into your skin, relishing the taste of you.

“Uh, Chim?”

Jimin caught apprehension beneath your breathiness. He immediately pulled his head up to look into your eyes. “Yes, sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“I…” You nodded.

But then you were biting your lip again and Jimin couldn’t believe how fucking lucky he was to have you looking so submissive beneath him. All his dreams – coming to an unimaginably amazing conclusion.

He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure this wasn’t a fever dream.

You cleared your throat, jutting your chin out in an obviously faux show of confidence. “I don’t have to call you, like… master, or something, do I?”

Despite the instant tightening in his pants, Jimin couldn't hold back the laugh that tumbled out of him. He threw his head back and guffawed. Yeah, this was definitely real.

You slapped him on the thigh. “Shut up!”

He collected himself with difficulty. “No master, sweetheart. Just my name would be fine.”

“Well, you’re into some kinky shit, Park, I was just making sure.” You crossed your hands against your chest, pouting crossly. “Could’ve said a simple no, though. Didn’t have to laugh like that, you meanie.”

He was still grinning even as he gripped both your wrists and pulled your arms up to pin them next to your head. Your pout slipped away, lips falling open on a gasp. He leant over your body, pressing his chest against yours, smirking when your lashes fluttered.

You felt delicious, all sweet and soft curves pressed up against his planes.

“You hit me.”

You blinked, frowning. “Wha—”

“You hit me. On the thigh.”

Your eyes went wide in alarm and Jimin chuckled at the horror on your face. “I’m — I’m sorry, Jimin, I—”

He slid higher up your body, grinding his denim covered crotch into you. “Are you?”

You choked on an inhale, moaning with your mouth closed when Jimin moved his hips again. Your tongue peeked out to lick at your lips while you gave him a nod.

“Yes, Jimin,” you whispered, eyes looking away from him as you demurely lowered them.

Jimin hissed. Why did every single, little action of yours make him lose all control over himself? He sighed.

He looked up at your hands struggling in his grip, and then around the room. And then he looked down at himself, eyes pausing at his waist. He quickly unlooped his belt from his jeans.

“Jimin, what—oh.”

He pulled your wrists up to the bars in the headboard and glanced at your face. “This okay? Use your words.”

Your cheeks were red when you nodded. “Yes. Yeah, it’s okay.”

“Good.” He looped his belt through the bars and, binding your wrists together, tightened the buckle. “This good?”

You nodded.

He quickly dipped his head to nip at your collarbone. “Words.”

“Y—yes, yes, Jimin. This is – it’s good,” you brokenly breathed.

Jimin nodded his approval, patting your cheek affectionately.

Then he descended your body and got to work on your breasts, weighing them in his palms as his thumb flicked both their tips. Your body twitched beneath him, little whimpers egging him on, you looking at him with your sultry gaze. He moved a hand to close his forefinger and thumb over a nipple, tugging the flesh and giving it a jerk. Your breast jiggled, and you both groaned in unison.

“Look at you, sweetheart, God,” Jimin groaned, one hand mapping the surface of your abdomen to rest below your navel. He tugged at your nipple with his other hand, again. “These are pure sin.”

His mouth closed over the other nipple.

“Jimin—ah…”

Jimin hummed contently, swirling his tongue around the nipple before dragging his lips off of it. He immediately moved on to the other side, bringing his other hand back up to cup over your breast. He squeezed at the soft flesh while his teeth grazed against the sensitive tip, and you mewled beneath him.

He had his mouth wrapped around the gorgeous, perky nipples he’d seen in your picture, yesterday, and wanted to taste. Life really didn't get better than this, did it?

He looked up at your face to find your lip locked between your teeth and eyes screwed shut. He bit down, sinking his teeth into the supple flesh of your tit.

Your eyes sprang open with a gasp, neck immediately craning to look at him.

He met your gaze with a wink, lapping at your skin with his tongue.

“Chim…”

Your moan was loud and deep, vibrating through your chest to his mouth. Jimin suckled hungrily, hands grabbing at you greedily.

When he finally pulled away, he’d left a huge, blooming red mark on you and it was rapidly changing colors to turn purple. Jimin pressed a kiss against it.

His hands made their way down to the string of the waistband of your thong, index finger twisting the fabric.

“This little piece of lace,” he mocked. “What good does it do, anyway?”

Your cheeks were flaming when he met your eyes. “I…”

“It’s so fragile,” Jimin whispered in a breathless urgency, moving to plant a kiss in the middle of said piece of clothing, over the wet patch he could clearly spot. “Bet I could tear it off with a single finger.”

He heard your breath hitch as he gave the waistband another twist, wrapping it over the knuckle of his index finger now. He tucked his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes ravenously drinking up the sight of you peeking past the tiny triangle of your thong.

And then he snapped the damn thing, tearing it into two and pulling it off your body.

“Chim!” your gasp was instant, back arching in an attempt to rise but you were held back by your tied hands.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he mumbled, but he wasn’t actually in a condition to listen to you, right now.

Not when he had you spread out, pink and swollen and pretty in front of him. He dropped the cloth off to the side, bringing in both his palms to part your legs even further.

And your thighs. These fucking thighs with all their plumpness and the jiggle in them when you walked around in booty shorts, ugh.

“D’you know how crazy you’ve driven me with these?”

He massaged the inside of your thighs and your body gyrated, hips shifting with your gasps.

“I was walking around with permanent boners because the sight of your legs drove me insane. All I could think about was wrapping these around my waist,” he husked, depraved eyes running over the smooth skin of your thighs before his palms followed, tracing a path from the underside of your knee, up to your hips, “and fucking you against the nearest wall.”

“Jimin,” you stuttered, eyes looking at him in what looked like wonder, your breathing seemingly ceased.

Well, he would give you a reason to breathe. Gasp. Scream his name.

He dragged his hands up to the juncture of your thighs, spread them, and trained his eyes at your center. His reserve completely gave out when he found you slick and sopping wet, with your arousal painting the tops of your thighs.

“So fucking messy,” he gritted, teeth clenching tight, “and much more dirtier than my filthiest fantasies.”

Jimin reached out with two fingers, parting your folds to expose you fully to his sight.

“Ah, fuck. That’s – that feels cold…” you whispered, wide eyes roving his face.

Jimin realised his rings had made contact with you. He sucked in a breath at the sight of your slick rubbing over his silver bands.

“Oh, baby,” he purred, drowning in lust, mouth salivating. “You’re dripping everywhere, sweetheart, fuck. Look at you ruining my rings. So fucking pretty.”

His fingers slipped down your lips, brushing your clit and converging as they travelled lower yet. He watched with rapt attention, eyes wide and tongue resting against his upper teeth as his fingers slipped right into you, travelling deep into your gripping warmth.

A low sound left him just as you moaned out his name.

"All this for me, yeah?" He nipped at your thigh above your knee.

You nodded, your half lidded gaze on him. "All for you. Just for you."

He sucked in a huge breath, grunting when his fingers scissored up to the spot he was looking for inside of you. He experimentally curled his fingers, eyes darting up to look at your face.

You jumped at the contact, eyes squeezing shut and jaw dropping open.

“There?” He watched your contorted face with rapt attention.

“Uh huh,” tumbled out of your mouth as you nodded frantically.

Having mercy on your mindless state, he let you get away without speaking up this one time. He wanted to touch you, taste you, consume you until you were sobbing in his arms. That, and he himself was too far gone to care, right now.

He released your thigh from his other hand, sitting up on the bed and spreading his own knees for some relief while his fingers moved in you. Unzipping his jeans with his free hand, he tugged the fabric off his crotch, sighing when the tightness released. Then he moved the hand to hold you by your waist, your leg folding up between your bodies.

Jimin licked his lips, hair falling in his eyes and gaze never leaving your fucked out face. He gripped your calf, unfolding it and tossing it over his shoulder. Your eyes opened, looking straight at him past a hazy curtain. He gave you a grin, moving his head to press an open mouthed kiss against your ankle, and you jerked against him, biting down on your lip and squeezing your eyes shut again.

“S—so good, Jimin…”

Jimin’s cheek ticked up in a smile, fingers moving in you faster.

You looked exquisite like this – spread in front of him like a platter, hands pulled up and tied off, breasts bouncing, back arching, hips moving to his rhythm, and pussy stuffed full with his fingers. He wanted to touch you, taste you, consume you until you were sobbing in his arms.

“You look so delectable, I wanna fucking eat you up whole,” he grunted, pressing his nose into your ankle to ground himself.

But it still wasn’t enough.

Drunk on your inebriating scent filling up the air between the two of you, Jimin lowered himself on the bed and launched himself onto you, tongue moving to lick at your clit.

“Oh m—Fuck! Jimin! Holy – shit!”

Egged on by your yelps, Jimin attached his open mouth to you, letting his lips meet your wetness while his tongue rolled over your clit. Your taste was heady – an aphrodisiac if there was ever one. He could get drunk on this.

And he intended to.

“So fucking delicious, baby,” he spoke into you. “Could eat you out forever, mm hmm.”

“Jimin, Jimin, oh my God, fuck, Ji~min,” you chanted his name, tugging at your constraints and twisting your body every which way, but Jimin’s grip on your thigh held you in place.

He slurped at your leaking slit, pulling his fingers out of you to let his tongue take their place, massaging your entrance and dipping past it in small licks.

“Chim...please,” you groaned, craning your neck as far as you could to look at his head of dark hair working between your legs. “More.”

But Jimin was unrelenting, not letting up with his mellow teasing as he licked, kissed and nipped at your cunt without delivering what he knew you needed. His fingers, slick with your arousal, moved to hold your hips down from moving too much, smearing your abdomen with your own wetness.

The thought of licking your essence off those sinful hips made him lose what remained of his senses, and Jimin dove full in. He had you at his mercy with your hands out of service and hips in his vice like grasp, and you were well aware of the power he held if your desperate pleas were anything to go by.

He hummed against your clit, teeth raking against the soft flesh and you convulsed above him, begging for a whole different reason now.

“Jimin! I’m close… please, baby…”

“Not yet, sweetness,” Jimin murmured into you. “Let me have a proper taste first.”

He flattened his tongue over your slit, licking a fat stripe up your cunt, and you yelled out a garbled curse, thighs quivering in his grasp. Then he dipped his tongue in again, licking into your heat while his nose bumped into the hood of your clit. Your high pitched yells of his name were gradually losing coherence, making him grin against you in satisfaction.

He decided to bring his fingers back in, sliding two of them into you again and massaging the spot they met when he curled them, while his lips closed over your clit in a tight suction. Your body quivered above him, drawn out groans of some contorted form of his name escaping you and echoing in the space around you two.

“Don’t you dare come until I tell you to,” he spoke into you, voice coming out ragged and heavy and hungry.

Jimin furiously fucked you with his fingers, teeth coming in to play with your clit as he did, grunting at the squelching sounds it made. Your cunt seemed to be growing narrower by how hard you were clenching around him, he could tell you were getting closer. He uncurled his other hand from your thigh to rest on your abdomen, feeling the stickiness he’d left there before, and he gripped your waist to pull you further down onto his mouth and fingers. He messily ate you out, tongue licking every inch of your delicious softness and lips meshing into you before sucking at your clit, voraciously.

You whined aloud, and Jimin chuckled against you.

“All good, baby?” he hummed into you, and you broke into a litany of pleas.

“Jim...Jimin...I’m gom—gonna – please, I—ungh, please lemme come, pleathe…”

Jesus fucking Christ, he would lose his fucking mind.

He swore to himself, detaching his mouth from you long enough to rest the side of his head against your thigh and look at your face which was all screwed up in agony. He groaned at the sight, sponging a kiss to the inside of your thigh, fingers moving in you even more frenetically.

“Come for me, baby.”

He immediately returned to your core and pressed even closer into you, flicking his tongue over your clit once before swirling it around in tight circles.

“Come all over my tongue, pretty, lemme drink you up.”

Your channel gripped his fingers even harder and your moans grew in pitch. Jimin immediately wrapped his lips around your little nub to suck as hard as he could.

Your reaction was instant, a scream of his name ripping from your throat and the heel of your leg hooked over his shoulder digging into his shoulder blade as your body drew taut.

“Ji—min, fuck fuck fuck. Fuck! Fuck—ah!”

Your walls fluttered around his fingers, squeezed so tight around them he wondered if he would even fit inside of you. But your juices had him forgetting about everything but your intoxicating taste, and he withdrew his fingers from you to seal his mouth over your entrance, lapping up every bit of your release.

"Mm hmm, so pretty, so delicious, baby…"

“Chim… too much, ah…” your weak sob somehow penetrated the cloud of lust he was swimming in.

Very reluctantly, Jimin gave a single parting lick to your pussy, swiping his tongue from the very bottom to the very top, and moved to sit up between your spread legs. He brought his wet fingers up to his mouth, popping them in and licking off every trace of your heavenly taste from them.

He hadn’t realised when his eyes had closed in bliss, but your little gasp made him open them to meet yours.

“You did so well, sweetheart,” he praised, brushing a kiss on the top of your knee with his lips still soaked in your essence. He sat back on his haunches and swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and chin, then. “Are you okay?”

Your gaze was heavy, lips red and parted as you stated at him. Then you scoffed a small laugh, lips pulling up in a smile.

"I’m – I’m more than okay, oh God. That was… so fucking good, Chim, your mouth is… fuck," you breathed out, still panting heavily. “You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life. What the fuck, Park?!”

Jimin scoffed. You were calling him sexy? Had you seen yourself? Your breasts were heaving enticingly, sweat dotting various parts of your body, and Jimin really just wanted to lick your entire body clean.

He brought a hand up to rake through his hair, abs and obliques flexing with his action. He noticed your eyes trace his torso. He grinned at you wickedly when you licked your lips.

“See something you like?”

“Oh my God, Jimin, untie me,” you moaned, taking him by surprise. “Right now.”

He squinted at you. “What makes you think you’re in a position to give orders, here, sweetheart?”

"I really really need your cock in my mouth in the next ten seconds, or I might die," you announced with your wide eyes looking really serious and sort of panicked.

Jimin nearly swallowed his tongue, because damn did that filthy mouth of yours bypass his imagination. He had never been so hard in his life.

“Is that right?” He reined in his surprise and looked down his nose at you.

You squirmed under his gaze. “Yes, Chim. Please?”

“You could’ve asked nicely to start with, sweetness," he chastised, even as he moved to close your legs and straddle your waist to work the buckle of the belt. “Why run your mouth and risk being edged for an hour, hmm?"

Your movements froze for a moment, alarmed eyes connecting with his challenging ones. “Please don’t do that.”

Jimin gave a hearty laugh. “Ask nicely, then.”

He sat back on your thighs, leaving the belt still twisted up in your hands despite the buckle being undone. Waiting.

He crossed his arms over his chest when you kept gaping at him. “Go on?”

You whined, turning your face to the side. “Come on, Jiminie, untie me! You deserve to have your soul sucked out of your cock, baby, please don’t deprive me. Please?”

His eyebrows shot up at your unexpected surrender. He’d expected you to protest more. Did you really want him in your mouth that bad? Oh, God.

“Are you trying to make me come in pants like a fucking teenager, what the hell?”

You pouted at him, eyes shining with mischief. “Someone said something about choking me with his cock. I’m just trying to get you to fulfill your promises, Park.”

Jimin smirked at you, lips parting and teeth peeking. He moved on top of you, nipping at the peak of your breast, the edge of your jaw, your earlobe – before feathering his lips over your ear. “I could do that with your hands tied, too, pretty,” he breathed. “Say the word.”

You choked on an inhale, chest frozen under him while he chuckled at you and sat back up.

“You’re sinful, Park Jimin,” you muttered, eyes shuttering in a playful glare.

Jimin tugged his belt off your hands and the bed frame, softly massaging your wrists while he slowly brought your arms down to rest on your abdomen.

“Looked in a mirror lately, Miss?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling your hands up to plant a soft kiss on the reddened skin of both your wrists.

You bashfully ducked your head, rising to sit up with his help.

He slid back on the bed, slowly widening his stance to accomodate you between his legs. He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you to him while he feathered the fingertips of the other hand over your thighs.

Your hand came up to cup his jaw, eyes gazing at him with unabashed lust and what seemed like a little bit of admiration. He smirked in response, tilting his head to accept you when you leant forward to capture his lips in a kiss. He immediately moaned into your mouth as you took command, massaging his lips with yours. Your other hand travelled to the back of his head, gripping his hair as you moved his head in accordance to you. Your tongue didn’t waste time in coming out to trace his lips, and he relinquished all control when you slid forward to straddle his lap with a deep groan.

He maneuvered the two of you around without breaking the kiss, and sat back against your headboard. He helped you wrap both your legs around his waist, one hand reaching up to massage your scalp while the other traveled down to palm your ass.

You fell against his chest, both palms landing on his body, and instead of gripping onto him to steady yourself the way he’d expected you to, your hands started to wander. One of them reached up to trace his pectoral muscles, fingers brushing his fevered skin until your thumb suddenly flicked against his nipple, making him grunt into your kiss.

Your lips formed a smirk, your other hand sliding down his abdomen to curve over the front of his jeans. Jimin nipped at your upper lip when you drew his bottom one into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue.

Your palm curled over him above his boxers. Blood hummed in his veins, making him cry out into your mouth.

Jimin pulled away from the kiss, canting his head back onto the headboard to catch his breath. You did the same with your head rolling over your shoulder, provocative eyes looking at him like a predator’s while your fist tightened over his length.

“Ready for the best suck of your life, Mister Park?” Your voice was breathy, borderline desperate, but your eyes held a spark of defiance.

Jimin bit his lip, very well aware of the jump in his cock at the address. He couldn’t believe how easily you changed forms from being a writhing, submitting mess underneath him to straight up messing with him.

He loved it.

When your eyes left his cut, muscled V-line, you winked at him and crawled backward on the bed, getting off his lap.

Jimin gave you a wolfish grin in return. “Hit me with your best shot, Miss,” he teased.

And you did.

Your hands immediately busied themselves in wrestling his underwear past his ass. He lifted himself up from the mattress to aid you in the process as you tugged at his jeans, tearing the piece of clothing down his legs as if it had personally offended you.

Jimin watched you in amusement while you hurriedly freed his legs off the jeans and then his boxers. His cock was rock hard, slapping his abdomen when it sprang free from the confines of his underwear. His tip was red, begging for attention, and it took everything in him to not grip himself and give a few satiating strokes. He had been doing that for months. Now that he had you sitting in front him, buck naked and eyeing his cock with yearning in your gaze, he wouldn’t miss any fraction of an opportunity to have your hands on him.

He gave a small chuckle when you grumbled between your struggles of freeing his ankles from his skinny jeans.

But then all humor was knocked out of him.

You didn’t wait for a single second, not even pausing to breathe before wrapping a palm around him and descending over him with your mouth open wide and wet. Your lips wrapped around his tip and you gave his cock a loud, wet, slurpy suction before licking off the precum slathered around the slit.

Jimin’s hips bucked off the bed, hands scrambling to find purchase in your hair and the bedsheets. “Holy shit, babe!”

You looked at him through your lashes, all sultry and luscious, and dipped your chest further down towards the bed.

Jimin slowly followed the lithe line of your spine, all the way up to—

“Fuck…”

Your ass was raised up as you knelt between his legs and your mouth-watering hips fell in his direct line of sight. The navy blue and black butterfly moved in tandem with your head, taunting him.

This was quite possibly the most erotic sight he’d ever seen in his entire life. Better than his imagination.

While he was still recovering from the visual of his dreams, you removed your hand from his cock, and using your tongue to spread his precum and your spit all over him, you opened your mouth to take him all in.

A choked cough escaped him when his tip hit the back of your throat.

“What—sweetheart, I—fuck,” he brokenly stuttered, confused between pleasure and concern, the hand in your hair trying to pull you off him. “Are you—ah, are you okay, babe?”

You moved your hand to squeeze at his thigh, and Jimin relaxed. You’d caught him off guard and so he wasn’t aware of how prepared you were. It would kill him if he accidentally hurt you.

But going by the way your lips were moving over his cock in a tight vacuum seal, you’d been more than prepared for him.

Your mouth bobbed up and down in quick, shallow strokes. Not every stroke hit the back of your throat, but you had your tongue flattened over the underside of him and were licking at the really sensitive vein that ran beneath his skin with your every move. Jimin dragged his other hand through the bed, abdominal muscles flexing and twitching with every jerk of your head.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so good. So warm, shit—”

He peeled open his involuntarily shut eyes with effort, looking down at the lewd sight of you.

Your cheeks were hollowed, and lips progressively growing a darker shade of red. Jimin belatedly recalled the lipstick you’d worn. Pride swelled in his chest on realising he’d probably wiped it all off with his own mouth.

“Look at you, fuck,” he grunted, chest heaving with short, quick breaths. “So fucking filthy. D’you know how often I have imagined this?”

The carnal sight of your lips stretching wide over him was nearly too much to handle. He sat up from his recline, one hand tightening in your hair and the other reaching across the span of your body to grope at your hips, squeezing the delicious flesh there before moving lower to give your plump ass a smack.

Your responding groan vibrated through his cock, and Jimin threw his head back with a muffled whine. “Shit, shit, shit—”

Your mouth slipped off him, hand coming to grip around his length. You swirled your tongue over his tip, rubbing it back and forth when his hips bucked, while your hand maintained a steady rhythm over the rest of him.

Jimin wheezed in heavy breaths, pulling his hand off your hip to shove his hair back from his sweaty forehead.

His grip on your hair tightened. “What a dirty fucking girl… fuck… you look so good like this, baby.”

You looked up at him through your lashes at his praise, and he nearly fucking came. Oh God, you were so sexy.

But you recognised the delirious look in his eyes because you removed your hand from his thigh to grab his free hand and put it in your hair. Jimin swallowed a gasp. How were you able to ignite every single nerve ending of his with every little action of yours?

Jimin combed the fingers of both his hands through your hair, twisting it into a makeshift ponytail and held that in one hand. He tapped at your cheek with the other. “Pat my thigh when you need to tap out, okay? Don’t go over your limit.”

You nodded around a mouthful of his cock, and Jimin really fucking lost it for a second there. Remembering himself, he gathered his bearings, and tugged at your hair. You detached your mouth with a gasping whine, a thread of his precum hanging off your swollen lower lip and connecting to his dick.

He moaned at the sight, thumb moving to swipe against your lip. You caught it in your mouth, flicking your tongue against it the way you did on his dick, and Jimin’s breath caught.

You were nearly too much to handle. Nearly.

“Speak up, pretty,” he grunted, roughly pulling his thumb off you, replacing his hand to hold your chin.

You blinked at him with big, muddled eyes. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he implored. “Tell me you understand.”

“Yes, I understand.” You licked your lips, eyes falling back to his length. “Won’t go over my limit. Just… fuck, Jimin, fuck my throat. Please. Need you, wanna feel you.”

Jimin didn’t need another summoning. Swearing under his breath, he gripped your face with both his hands and raised himself to his knees. You got to your hands and knees before him, cheek nudging his slit.

Your eyes were nearly glazed over, and if Jimin sat back to ponder the fact that you looked so freaking intoxicated by the prospect of having him fuck your mouth, this would be over way too soon. He breathed in deeply, instead, raking his eyes over your prone form and reminding himself of the thorough fucking you deserved for being so fucking unbelieavably receptive.

Tucking his lower lip between his teeth, Jimin directed your mouth towards his cock with a hand, sliding himself in with a grip on your hair, and your lax throat took him right in.

“Oh my God, fuck!”

Any and all thoughts left his brain – the feeling of your throat constricting around him the only thing in his world.

“You feel so incredible, baby, fuck—”

He wanted to hold back, really truly did, but the way you were suppressing your gag reflex and presenting yourself to him with such abandon had him going feral. With a muted growl, Jimin pulled himself out, tapping his tip against your deep red lips before driving deep again.

Your throat convulsed on him, teasing eyes telling him you’d done it on purpose, and he sputtered, mouth salivating and eyes rolling back.

“You dirty fucking minx,” he hissed, tugging at your hair to get your eyes back on his. “If you lose your voice because I fucked your mouth too hard, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

And then he was wild, ravenous, untamed – holding your face still as he rammed his length into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. Your scattered moans around him were making him lose his mind. He had no clue how long he would last like this, but he could not restrain himself.

He’d always had lengthy plans for you, if ever got you under him. All his fantasies comprised him tasting every single, supple inch of your body, bringing you so much pleasure that you passed out from his mouth alone and he had to wake you up to fuck you. But right now, it seemed like he was gonna nut down your throat and pass out himself before he got to dick you down.

That thought, and that thought alone, was what helped him grip onto his slipping control.

Slowing his tempo for a moment, Jimin clenched his abdomen, reeling his spiralling restraint back in before he thrust again, repeatedly meeting the back of your throat. Your mouth was so warm, oh God.

He could feel sweat accumulating over his brow, running down his back, gathering over his abs from exertion.

“So good to me, so fucking pretty,” he heaved between heavy breaths, feeling hs balls tighten when you hummed in response.

Three more thrusts and then Jimin paused, pulling your head away from him.

“Enough! Fuck, I don’t wanna come before I get inside of you.”

Your slacked jaw came off him, pupils completely blown out, no trace of your irises visible at first glance. Jimin sank back on his haunches, jerking you up to kneel with him.

Your eyes still hadn’t connected to his, chasing his length until your face started to descend again.

Your reddened lips, watery eyes and all the spit and precum dribbling down your chin was already too erotic of a sight for Jimin to resist. But the second he saw you trying to get your mouth back on his dick, he lost all semblances of lucidity.

“Fucking hell, come here, you—”

Jimin grabbed your whole face in his hands and closed his open mouth over your delicate lips. He tasted traces of himself on your tongue, salty and wholly unpleasant, but the obscene sight he just saw was painted on the back of his eyelids and he growled low in his throat before sucking on your lips harder.

He let go of you when your hand tapped against his chest.

“Need to… breathe…”

Jimin chuckled, letting go of you. “You okay, pretty?”

Your eyes were shut, palms resting on his thighs as your chest heaved. You swiped your hair over your shoulder, nodding.

Your eyes opened to connect straight with his, your palms moving up his thighs. “I wanna ride you.” You licked your lips when he raised an eyebrow. “Please? Will you – will you let me ride you?”

Jimin swallowed, breath faltering. What a fucking sex goddess. And how good at learning and retaining instructions.

Inwardly, he wanted to moan out a depraved agreement and let you ride him into eternity, because God knew he would spontaneously combust if he wasn’t inside of you soon. But he also needed to pound you into your bed really bad. So on the outside, he looked at you with his head tilted back and thighs spread, deciding to entertain you for a while.

Taking in his inviting stance, you didn’t waste time climbing into his lap. He licked a path up the soft, delicious skin of your throat while you wound your arms around his shoulders. His palms flattened over your thighs, fingers digging into your delectable flesh.

“These thighs have been ruining my nights ever since I saw them,” he breathed into your neck, lips ghosting over the side of it. “Couldn’t sleep because the thoughts of having them wrap around my waist won’t fucking leave me.”

He relished the tremble that overcame your body, and moved his hand to palm your ass. His gaze dropped to your hips where multiple red spots had started to bloom as a result of his feasting. God, he needed a picture of this.

“And these hips.” He hissed out a breath. “Look at how pretty they look all marked up.”

Said hips undulated over his thigh, coating his skin with your arousal. Your own thigh made contact with his stiff length and he groaned. Jimin ground his teeth together, hips jerking upwards to engage in more friction.

A loud moan left you, head rolling back over your shoulders. Jimin didn’t waste a single second before catching one of your nipples in his mouth, grip tightening on your thighs. Your moan bled out into a breathy whimper, and Jimin sucked harder, pulling you down on himself harsher.

“Stop,” you breathed out, a shaky hand coming up to rest over his chest. “Get—get inside me already, God, please, Jimin! I need you in me so bad.”

Jimin pulled you up in a flash, teeth nibbling his own lower lip as he nudged your nose with his own. Staring deep into your eyes that were thickly layered with arousal, he slowly shook his head. Your eyebrows dipped in confusion. He licked at your lower lip, holding you tighter when you shivered.

“You can have your fun riding me, later, sweetness,” he told you, voice coming out breathless and scratchy. “Right now, I really need to fuck you into this bed, really hard.”

He winked at your dropped jaw before grasping you by your waist and flipping the two of you over. He absorbed your gasp of surprise in his mouth, taking you into a bruising kiss. His hands moved to clutch at you, one at the waist and the other gripping your thigh as he situated himself between your legs. He sucked your tongue into his mouth, grabbing your tit when your back arched up to him.

His length was hard and angry and even a feathery brush against your thigh had him groaning into your mouth.

Separating from your ambrosiac lips, he brought a hand up to cup your face. “Condoms. D’you have condoms, sweetheart?”

You blinked up at him, nodding as you pointed to your right.

“Still no words, huh?” Jimin mumbled in admonition even as he turned his head to follow the general direction to your nightstand.

Immediately leaning over, he pulled at the drawer and reached in. His fingers brushed against a couple of tiny packages, and he plucked one out.

“Handy, huh,” he remarked, raising a suggestive eyebrow at you, relishing the way your cheeks pinked.

He dropped the packet on your chest.

“Help me?”

He smirked when you gulped, running a finger down the line of your throat, all the way down to your sternum, in the middle of the soft mounds of your breasts.

Looking into his eyes, you took the packet up to your lips and bit into a corner. Jimin sucked in a sharp breath when you tore it open with your teeth, the harsh foil pressing into your lips and skewing them crudely.

You rolled the condom on him with smooth swipes of your fingers over his length, and Jimin held back a shudder when you pumped him twice after you were done.

“There,” you breathed, breath audibly hitching when Jimin pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

His eyes connected with yours, one hand wrapping around your right thigh to tug it over his waist, and the other brushing over your center. He hissed when his fingers came in contact with your slick.

“You’re soaking wet, pretty baby.” His voice came out hoarse and lower than his usual pitch.

He dipped his fingers in to ensure you really were properly aroused, and he had to bite back a groan when you clenched over his digits.

“Such a greedy baby. Gripping my fingers even when she’s about to get my dick,” he sneered, pulling his finger out harshly and rubbing your wetness over his length. “Look at me when I fuck you, okay?”

“Y—es, okay.” You bit your lip, shaking underneath him. “Need you, Jimin. So so bad. Please – just, plea—oh!”

You cut off in a gasp when Jimin aligned himself with your entrance, pushing into you slowly. He looked up to find your eyes shut.

“I asked you to look at me!” he growled, glaring at you when your eyes opened. “Eyes. On me. The entire time. Understand?”

You dumbly nodded, and he brought up his hand wet with your arousal to grip at your jaw.

“How many times,” he hissed, “do I have to remind you to speak the fuck up?”

With that, he slid into you in one strong, smooth motion, bottoming out through your slippery channel. You both groaned together, and Jimin’s head fell onto your clavicle. He drew his hips back and thrust back in, shallowly.

“God, you fit me like a fucking glove, baby.”

Pressing kisses into your collarbones, he bit down when you still just moaned in response.

“I still don’t hear your words,” he grunted against your throat.

And yet, all he got from you were little gasps, in time with his slowly moving hips. The hand supporting your thigh separated from your skin, only to reconnect with a resounding slap.

“Speak up.”

You jumped, moaning with your mouth open. “I—I’m sorry – fuck – I’m sorry, Jimin, it just feels so good, baby—ah! I… I under—ah! I understand! I’ll look at you…”

He lifted himself up on his forearms to check whether you really did, and hummed in satisfaction to find your eyes on him.

“Now, was that so difficult?”

He rose to his knees, cradling both your legs around his waist as he drew back and thrust in again. Your warmth enveloped him so well, he had to clamp up all his muscles to maintain his composure.

“How are you so fucking tight, sweetheart, fuck. Squeezing me so fucking good when I just fucked you open with my fingers,” he groaned, driving his hips against yours.

Your heavenly thighs framing him was literally a dream come true and he found himself groaning at the sight of your flesh pressed up against his. Your breasts swayed in time with his thrusts, tempting him to take them into his mouth. So he did, prompting you to lock your ankles at the small of his back as he grabbed at your tits.

A lewd moan tore through your chest. “Fuck! Yes!”

Jimin picked up pace, gleaming eyes stuck on the tantalizing way your soft flesh bulges through his fingers.

"What a fucking sight, baby, fuck."

He removed one hand to press it down over your chest, looking into your barely open eyes. He snapped his hips against yours harder, grinding them when he was balls deep, and you stuttered out a broken rendition of his name.

Jimin's gaze went up to your arms that you'd crossed above your head, away and out of the way.

"What an obedient little baby, ugh," he grunted, leaning over you to lock an appreciative palm over your wrists. "Definitely deserving of a reward for this."

Your breathing grew heavier, gasps melting into little whines at the end.

Jimin licked at your nipple with the flat of his tongue, rolling it over the areola before moving up to suck bruises into your neck.

"Jimin, I—ah! Tha–thank you!" you sobbed.

He hadn't really been expecting you to respond this time, given how delirious you looked, but appreciated it all the same. Appreciated it way too much, in fact because he felt himself throb inside of you.

The hand he’d pressed down on your chest slipped over your collarbones, moving up. It wrapped around the base of your neck, his fingers and thumb pressing into either side as he squeezed a little. Your eyes widened, slowly, irises thinning even further with more arousal bleeding into your orbs.

“You like that?” he rasped, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and grinding his pelvis against your clit.

Your lashes nearly fluttered, but you fought against shutting your eyes and never broke eye contact. “Y–yes, Jimin, it’s s–s–so goo—”

You sputtered into a muted groan under the suddenly increased pressure of Jimin’s fingers. He gripped your thigh firmly with his other hand, pushing it up against your chest and leaning over you to pound into you at a deeper angle.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, hands gripping onto the headboard. “Ji—min, fuck, fuck, fff—ungh!”

Jimin’s hand tightened over your throat, now cutting off some of your air supply and speech abilities. Your muted groans, incoherent yells, his own breathy pants and the wet, smacking sounds of skin slapping against skin filled your room.

He reached up to grip at the headrest, hand closing over one of your own, and fucked you harder, shaking the bed dangerously under the two of you. Your entire body shifted against the mattress with the force of his thrusts, your little shrieks and yelps coordinating with his movements.

Your gaze was completely unfocussed. Jimin could tell you weren’t actually looking at him even when your eyes stayed on his face. But he was looking at you. Oh, God, he was definitely looking. And saving every single inch of your gloriously fucked out self to his memory to revisit for the rest of his fucking life. He wished he could save the way you felt around him to his memory, too, because God knew he’d never felt anything like this before.

He told you as much, grips tightening over your hand around the headboard bar and your throat. You eagerly nodded back, whether in reciprocation to his sentiment or to egg him on, he didn’t know. But he went harder all the same, pulling your other leg over his shoulder, too.

“Min!” you suddenly gasped nearly unintelligibly. His eyebrows furrowed. “I–I’m—”

“Are you close, pretty?” Jimin asked, dropping a wet kiss against your lips when you nodded. “You wanna come, sweetheart?”

You eagerly nodded again, trying to say something else but making zero sense. Jimin choked you harder, making it impossible for you to even try to speak.

His eyes dropped to the place you were joined at, and he watched, transfixed, as your sopping cunt repeatedly swallowed his length. He groaned. “You’re taking me so amazingly, baby, fuck. This tiny pussy spreads so well for me…”

He let go of your throat to reach between your bodies to place his thumb on your clit, a giggle escaping him when it slipped.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby, shit. Can’t even touch you properly…”

He brought his index finger together with his thumb to pinch at your clit.

“Ahhh! Fu~ck! Jimin!”

He smirked at your rough yelps, immediately grumbling a curse when you clenched around him. “You’re so responsive, baby, shit. What an amazing girl. So good to me.”

Your eyelids fluttered at his praise, hips moving against him to meet him thrust for thrust.

“B–baby—so close—”

“Yeah? You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, eyes slitted, but still fixed on him. “Ye–ye—ngh—yes—”

“You’re such a good girl, pretty,” he cooed, letting go of the headboard to grab one of your thighs for leverage, hips pistoning into you at an unforgivable pace. “Deserve to be,” he panted, “fucked so good, you—” he broke off, catching his breath “—you pass out, sweet baby…”

A high pitched moan tore through your chest, knuckles turning white in your tight grip at the headboard, and Jimin massaged your clit with two fingers.

“Come for me, baby. Squeeze my cock, cream all over it, fuck, come on, pretty,” he grumbled, biting his lip at the visual, and ran his nose along the line of your throat.

Your breath was coming in gasps and hiccups and Jimin could feel you gripping his length harder. He breathed out against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste you before rising up again to look into your feverish eyes. Your nose flared with every broken inhale and breasts pushed up against his chest with every frantic jolt of your body against the headboard.

Jimin could die like this with zero complaints.

“Oh—oh, I’m gonna—Chim, baby, I’m–I’m gonna come, I—”

Your eyes finally broke contact with him, abruptly clenching shut. Your back arched and body froze for a second, and then your walls clenched him so fucking tight and you—

“Jimin, holy fu~ck-k-k-k!”

“Shit shit, you’re so tight, baby, you’ll make me—”

Your pussy spasmed around him, tightening like a vice before easing until it tightened again, and it was all Jimin could do to not profess his undying love to your cunt.

You screamed, stuttering through your words, barely even sounding like yourself, and Jimin continued to furiously drive his cock into you, his tip meeting a spot deep within you and pulling him closer and closer to his own release. Jimin watched with a gaping mouth as you fell back against the bed, his restraint fully undone.

Your eyes opened to meet his own, and arms lowered from their position. Jimin let your thighs off his shoulders, to wrap them around his waist. You hummed, face relaxed and limbs loose. Jimin dipped his head to devour your lips, letting go with a resounding smack when breathing became a trouble.

“Can I touch you?” you then murmured, voice hoarse and worn out, and he felt himself throb a little harder at the knowledge that he’d done this to you.

“Yes—ah, fuck—yes, sweetheart. Yes, you can touch me."

You shakily lowered your palms to his pectoral muscles, and Jimin hissed at the touch of your cold hands against his heated flesh. Your fingers fluttered over his nipples, the softness you eluded in contrast with the ruthless pace he was going at inside you. Jimin grunted when you scraped a nail over one of them. Then you suddenly pinched both of them between your finger and thumb and twisted at the same time, and a groan of pleasure was pulled out of him in between his gasps of exertion.

You were exhausted, though, and so your hands quickly left his chest to wrap around his torso, arms looping beneath his upper arms to grab onto his shoulders. Your lashes fluttered up at him, parted lips shiny with spit now quirking in an open mouthed smirk just as you dug your nails in, and fucking raked them down his back.

"Fu~ck, oh my God!" Jimin gasped loudly, eyes widening at your mischievous expressions.

He was gonna fucking explode without preamble. Letting you touch him was a bad idea.

One of your hands situated itself on the small of his back and the other reached up to wrap around the base of his neck. All your nails scratched at his damp skin, your eyes sparkling when Jimin’s hips faltered in their movement in response.

“You like that, baby?” you whispered in a husk, ankles locking behind his back to pull him further in, and Jimin toppled on top of you with an oomph, chest meshing into your breasts and face falling onto the bed, next to yours.

He growled, scowling when your giggles trickled into his ear.

"You fucking tease, you’re—"

He pulled out of you, and dropping both your legs off his waist, gripped your hands in one of his to tug them up. Grabbing you by your waist, he rose to his knees again and flipped you over beneath him, your yelp of surprise muffled by the pillow your face sank in.

He let go of your hands and waist, sat back on his haunches, and placed both his palms on the gorgeously delicious flare of your hips to drag your ass up. In a second, he slid home, hitting you even deeper at this angle.

The two of you moaned, and Jimin gripped your hips tight to begin a brutal pace, pounding into your weeping cunt with renewed vigour.

"Jimin! Fuck!”

Your shout was followed by you stumbling to rise on your palms, failing and landing on your elbows. He laughed menacingly, smirking at your breathless moans.

“Yes, pretty, hold yourself up like that. My pretty girl… So hardworking, so good. Yeah.”

“Yes… yes, oh my God, Jimin—ie,” you moaned, turning your face to the side so that he could see your gaping mouth, “love it, baby—”

"Yeah, baby," he panted, feeling himself lose coherence at the overwhelming carnality of this position, "I love it, too."

And he did.

The erotic sight before him was straight out of his wildest fantasies.

Your hips, those delicious hips he'd fallen in love with, unknowingly, were held tight in his grasp. Your thighs framed his own, meeting him with lewd slaps with every thrust. The butterfly tattoo between the dimples above your ass seemed to flap its wings with every roll of your ass over his dick, and Jimin had to bite back a moan at the sight of your ass cheeks jiggling with the same motion.

He delivered a smack on one, palming the tender flesh immediately. You shouted his name, head stretched far back and back arching.

Jimin cursed under his breath, letting go of your ass to wind his arms around you. He gripped at your breast, rolling a nipple under his thumb until you mewled in protest, and then slid his palm down your stomach to run his fingers around your stuffed pussy.

“Gonna come for me again?”

You violently shook your head. “No! No, Chim, I can’t, I’m—I’m too sensiti—ah!”

Jimin twirled a finger around your swollen clit, licking his lips. “Yes, you can, pretty, and you will.”

His finger worked in rhythm with his cock, slipping over your sensitive nub just as his balls slapped against your pussy.

“Jimin, too much…” you groaned, elbows giving out.

“Shh, just a little more. My pretty baby will give me another one.”

He wrapped an arm around your hips to hold you up, dipping to plant a kiss between your shoulder blades. Soon enough, your groans of protest were turning into gasps of pleasure. Jimin chuckled against your shoulder, licking a path up the back of your neck.

“Does it feel good now, baby?”

You nodded against your pillow. “So good!”

Jimin fucked into you with renewed conviction, ignoring the cramping in his forearm as he rubbed your clit, this time chasing his own high that he could feel hovering close by.

And then your walls were fluttering around him for the second time just as you sobbed curses into your mattress. Jimin’s brain went haywire at the sensations, hand falling off your clit to grip at your shoulder, his chest pressing up against your back.

“Baby,” he groaned into your neck, “I’m gonna come.”

Your breath hitched, hips making some sorry efforts to push back against him, but the coil beneath his navel tightened all the same. Topped by the sensation of your still spasming cunt, Jimin’s head swam, eyes clenching shut as the coil grew taut with tension and then—

“Fuck fuck fuck, baby, fuuuu~ck—”

The tension in his abdomen snapped, every single nerve ending in his body lighting up as he came, literally exploding with a shout of your name. Tremors overtook his body and his cock twitched, ropes of his release filling up the condom just as his brain blanked out, all sensations leaving him in the wake of the overwhelming ecstasy of his orgasm. White noise filling his ears, he collapsed on top of your body when his knees gave out.

Heavy breathing filled the room for extended minutes.

And then you coughed beneath him, an elbow nudging at his ribs.

“Chim… heavy… can’t breathe…”

He floated back to the world of living with lazy blinks of his eyes, belatedly chuckling when your words registered in his brain. With a heavy sigh, he pulled his softening dick out of you and heaved himself off you to fall on his back on the bed, next to you. His hands still lifeless, he made an effort to roll the condom off himself and tie it up. He peered over the edge of the bed to look for a dustbin, extending an arm to toss the soiled condom in it when he spotted it under your bed.

Once he had comfortably situated himself back in his lying position, he gazed at your nearly lifeless form. You were still lying on your stomach with your head turned towards him, your eyes closed and mouth parted. Jimin could tell you weren’t asleep though, despite the soft rising and falling of your back.

The reality of the situation suddenly hit him like a truck.

He fucked you.

He fucked you – his crush of over a year, the muse of his every lustful pining, the lead actress of his every sexual fantasy, his roommate, and, as of late, also the other girl he had started to lust over.

He fucked you – and you let him. Enjoyed yourself quite a bit too, as far as he could tell.

He finally fulfilled his dream of over a year, holy shit, and it was so fucking good! Better than his expectations!

You suddenly cleared your throat, and Jimin blinked away his mental fistpump.

Your eyes were now open and trained on him. He couldn’t help his answering smirk, rolling onto his side to face you, a hand coming up to rest on the curve of your hips that he had finally had the opportunity to claim. Your cheeks reddened at his action, and his smirk widened a bit.

“So…” he began, biting down on his bottom lip.

“So…?”

He laughed at how awkward you were being.

“So that was fucking fantastic, sweetheart, you’re a sex goddess,” he finished with a roll of his eyes, still chuckling when you scrunched your nose up.

“It most certainly was, Chim,” you mumbled, humming with a smile.

You slowly turned over your side, too, to face him properly. His eyes automatically fell to the globes of your breasts, his smile turning sheepish when you flicked his forehead.

“And you’re a sex god yourself, if we’re really gonna get into it.”

Jimin just smiled at you, too sated and comfortable to stir up anymore conversation, content by just watching the post-orgasmic flush on your face.

You cleared your throat again, gazing away from him. Jimin laughed.

“You can look at me, I don’t mind.”

You snorted. “Of course you don’t, you cocky bastard.”

Jimin quirked an eyebrow when you met his eyes again. “Well, I sure am cocky, ain’t I?”

You gasped in outrage, smacking a palm against his chest which he caught in his own to hold in place. Your face turned serious, gaze dropping to his lips, and he sidled closer to you to brush his nose against yours.

“Chim,” you breathed, rubbing your lips against his, and he responded with a stuttered hum. “Can we… um. Are we gonna do this again?”

He reared away from you in surprise. “Uh…”

Your face fell, eyebrows furrowing, and you sat up, turning away from him. “I—I was just, um… offering? I guess? We totally don’t have to, I—”

Jimiin cut you off with an arm curled around your abdomen. “Come here, you idiot.”

You turned to look at him with wide eyes, and he sat up to face you, sliding close enough to press his chest against your side, consciously not letting his eyes stray beneath your face.

“I was taken aback because I assumed that this would be a regular thing, by default, babe,” he honestly confessed. “I mean, I'm gonna admit… I’ve slept around a lot. More than I should’ve, probably. But the fire you light in me? Yeah, I’ve never felt that before. And now that I have felt it up close, I wanna feel more of it.”

You were shyly biting down on your bottom lip by the time he finished talking, and Jimin couldn’t fathom how you changed into this irresistibly demure girl under his praise when you were a sassy, sexually over-expressive individual on the normal. Not to say he minded, because he liked it. A lot.

“And I’ve kinda wanted to do this with you for a while now, please don’t kill me,” he admitted in a single breath, looking at you with apprehension until your wide eyes reassured him that you weren’t offended.

“I kinda figured that one out already. You talked about having imagined a lot,” you reminded him, and he gave you an unabashed shrug, somewhat surprised you’d retained his passionate confessions.

But then you had him freezing.

“And you’re good, Park. I’d be a hypocrite to kill you when it’s been kinda the same for me,” you said with a casual shrug of your shoulders. “Minus, of course, the sleeping around more than I shou—”

“Wait, wait – what?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You said it’s the same for you—what?”

You squinted at him, huffing out a small, incredulous chuckle. “You seriously don’t have a clue, do you?”

Jimin squinted back. “Clue? About what?”

You looked at him with a torn expression slowly spreading over your face. “I didn’t really plan on bringing this up directly. Ever, if it didn’t come to it. But… guess you’re more oblivious than I thought.”

Jimin thickly swallowed, kind of able to guess where you were headed with this and unable to believe it was happening.

“Well… I had this gigantic crush on you when I moved in,” you mumbled, pulling both your lips into your mouth.

Jimin stopped breathing. You really—?

“What?”

You winced. “I know, I know, it was horrible. But, come on, Park. You’ve looked in a mirror. You know you’re a fucking catch. The first few weeks with you were torture. I’d seen you shirtless a couple of times, and… my mind wasn’t ready to forget that.”

Jimin was sure he was dreaming, at this point. The mindblowing sex had really been a fever dream. He subtly pitched himself, jolting when it hurt.

No, he wasn’t dreaming.

Fuck. Fuck yes! What the fuck?

“Why didn’t you ever say anything, babe?” he mumbled, sounding breathy even to his own ears.

“I – I tried to give you subtle signs, planning to come on to you when I was sure you were reciprocating. Because, as I got to know you, I realized that the attraction wasn’t worth sacrificing our friendship for, and so I didn’t approach you directly.”

Jimin sucked in a harsh breath, shocked at how perfectly your side of the story aligned with his.

“Well, obviously your subtle hints were way too subtle,” he murmured, a little annoyed at fate.

You shot him a glare. “Jimin. Are you serious? I gave up the sorority to live with you!”

Jimin gaped at you, caging you in his arms to put his face next to yours. He narrowed his eyes. “No. You got rejected because you failed an exam and—”

“Oh, my God, Chim! Are you really that naive?” You rolled your eyes with a self-conscious laugh, but something akin to adoration shone on your face. “All those eligibility rules are just on paper! Srats and frats don’t actually reject people that harshly.” You brushed a kiss against his lips, and his breath stuttered. “Besides, I didn’t actually fail that exam, Park.”

Jimin pulled back from you with a loud gasp. “What? Oh, my God—babe! How the hell was I supposed to figure that one out?”

You gave him a sheepish smile. “Yeah, alright, that was a tough one. But what about all those tales of my escapades I forced you to listen to? Did you think I was some sort of a closet exhibitionist or something?”

Jimin’s cheeks warmed. He sat back again, shrugging a shoulder. “Well, I don’t kink shame.”

You laughed aloud at that, shaking your head. “I just kept hoping, day after day, for that one fine moment when your resolve would weaken and you’d react. Maybe pull me in for a kiss? Or, at the very least, show me a sign that you were bothered by those talks? But no! You just sat back like a darn wingman, and never showed any interest. The only crack I saw was last night, and even then you didn’t revolt over me talking about sucking a random guy’s dick! You didn’t even try to ask who the guy was!”

Jimin shook his head. “It was very difficult, on all occasions but especially last night, I assure you. But I didn’t wanna come off as a pervert and have you run out of the house.”

“That would never have happened.” You bit your lip. “Gosh. We could’ve really been doing this a year ago!”

“Damn. That’s a lot of wasted time, shit.” Jimin exhaled, still reeling. It suddenly came back to him. “Was the Taehyung thing meant to rile me up, too, or…?”

Guilt spread on your face, cheeks flushing. You shook your head and Jimin gaped at you.

“That was pretty real, I’m afraid. I—hey, don’t give me that look! I was pretty frustrated, okay? You weren’t budging from being a good friend, I was getting kinda desperate here.”

Jimin still scowled at you. “You sent him nudes, ma’am. The biggest fuckboy on the entire campus has your nudes. And he obviously doesn’t have any qualms sharing them with people; exhibit a – me.”

You worried your bottom lip with your teeth. “Well, they don’t have my face, so…”

“And thank God for that! Or I’d have to hack into the fucker’s phone to burn them out of existence!”

A teasing smile crawled up your face. “Look at you getting all protective and shit after having sex once, huh?”

Jimin stiffened, worried he’d overstepped. Your eyes widened, too, and you hurried to shake your head.

“Not – not in that sense! I’m not proposing a relationship—” You cut yourself off with a wince. “I mean, not yet—” You cut yourself off again when his eyes widened, before giving up. “You know what? I’m just gonna shut up.”

Jimin shook with silent laughter. You huffed, petulantly, grabbing your t-shirt from the edge of the bed to toss it over your body.

“Hey, listen,” Jimin called out, pulling both your hands in his, “let me help you sort things out?” At your timid nod, he smiled. “I liked what we did. A lot. And I’d like to do more of it. A lot more of it. We good so far?”

You chuckled, looking away from him. “Yes.”

“Great. Next, I think it’s too soon to be jumping into a relationship. But I may be open to it in future,” he tentatively continued, eyes stuck to yours.

You exhaled at his words, face flooding with what looked like relief. You gave him a nod. “Yes. Yes, that. Exactly that.”

“So, we’re on the same page then?”

“The same sentence, too.”

Jimin felt his own inhibitions lower at your enthusiastic tug at his hands. This didn’t feel awkward, at all. This felt good.

So good. Wow.

Your gaze dropped to his crotch, surprising him. But instead of feeling self-conscious, he felt like teasing you.

He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “The same sentence, you say? Is it, perhaps, a question that begins with ‘what about’ and ends with ‘a second round’?”

Your cheeks puffed out in an attempt to contain your laughter. “It does, as a matter of fact. Followed by an all-caps ‘yes’, and an asterixed clause saying ‘I get to be on top, this time’.”

Jimin broke down into fits of uncontrollable laughter, falling into your lap, and you followed suit, tilting to a side on the bed.

God. You were the same level of crack-headed as him. This was gonna go so well, fuck. He couldn’t wait.

Jimin glanced at the clock on your nightstand when you were both sufficiently calmed, turning to grin at you. “It’s been over an hour since you were due for your video call. Taehyung must be losing his mind.”

Your brows arched in surprise. “Oh, I completely forgot about that!”

Jimin licked his lips, pulling you over his lap. “Uh huh. That’s really good to know.”

You eyed his lips. “I’m just gonna block him. He won’t even miss me. Bet he’ll get over it in a day.”

“I support that action.”

Going by the way he’d drooled over you, it might take the guy longer than a day. But Jimin was positive it won’t be longer than a week.

“So, about that asterixed clause,” Jimin began in a murmur, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“Yes?” you responded with your eyes gleaming in excitement.

Jimin bit his lip. “I support that action, too.”

With a squeal, you rushed to pull your t-shirt off, and Jimin would’ve laughed at your enthusiasm if he wasn’t moaning at the sight of your sexy body that he really couldn’t get enough of.

The next time Jimin saw Taehyung was for the psych class on Monday.

True to character, he was already drooling over someone else. And dude was so lost exploring the slew of nudes he received to pick out a candidate to spend the night with, that he didn't even notice Jimin’s own barely concealed groans as he looked at the Snaps you’d sent him.

“Park, man, I think I’m in love.”

Jimin blinked away from the picture of your pussy glimpsing past the new thong you’d bought, with a ‘what sentence we on today?’ written over it, and hurriedly locked his phone. Taehyung was longingly staring at his own phone screen when he turned to face the guy.

“You’re what?”

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “Gosh, man, that fucking ass—ugh!”

Jimin rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re in love with her ass?”

“His. His ass. Says his name’s Yeon Kimin. Weird, but I ain’t tryna marry him. But dude, those pasty fucking globes—oh my God…”

Jimin smoothly tuned the guy’s lustful musings out to focus on his phone. Unlocking it, he discreetly placed it beneath the table to open Snapchat and click a picture of himself with his lower lip tucked between his teeth and an eyebrow raised. He quickly typed a ‘we replacing that thong with these lips, obv’ over it and hit send.

You typed back a response, this time, a blue bubble appearing in his notifications.

not just a roomie👅 storage room behind the photo studio in ten PLEASE

Save the begging for later, sweetheart ;) Meet you in 5

Jimin locked his phone and picked up his bag to slink out of the classroom, smirking at Taehyung’s raised eyebrows. The guy sent back a dirtier smirk, mouthing ‘get it, soldier’ with a wink and a thumbs up.

God, what a guy.

Jimin ran out with a skip in his steps, full of excitement and energy, now that his nights were actually full of sleep and not visions of you. They didn’t have to be, when his days were already full of the real you, did they?

Nope.

I don't wanna take you nowhere; I don't wanna waste your time. Baby girl, won't you come my way? Baby girl, won't you come for me~

taglist: @shrimpmsg @jimidol @lorenakaspersen @lonleycoffee @trillradiance @loeyprivvv @sweeneyblue1@ownthesunshine @dxlbts @dxlbts @dreamsindreamss @writtenwhalienreads @codeinebelle @chimchoom @chimchoom @brit97 @seggsymccnugget (couldn’t tag ’cause the blog is blank!)

3K notes · View notes

aquagustd · 2 years ago

Text

talking body - kth

amidst a stressful few months of wedding preparations, along with hearing all the talk about ‘Blissful Hands,’ you decide to take some time off for yourself. Impeccable service, as well as a very gentle masseur with adroit fingers, has you going back for more. And when things go south for you and your fiancé, when life seems to be kicking your ass, he’s there to ease your tension in more ways than one.

↳ for the titillating touches collab hosted by miss yannie @ressjeon <3

pairing — massage therapist!taehyung x reader

genre/rating — angst, fluff, smut, s2l

warnings/tags — wedding au, lots of massages, strong language, dom!taehyung, hand kink, voice kink, cocky tae 😵‍💫, weird relationship dynamics, mentions of infidelity (not between oc & tae), tae&oc are kinda talkative but not really, mentions of insecurities, arguments, alcohol consumption, mean family members :(, mentions of a bruise, talk about contraception, sexual frustration, oc has a tattoo, guilt, vv gentle respectful tae mostly, lots of feels, explicit smut ++

note: finally !! i was supposed to post this back in may :’) but yannie is sweet & she let it slide 🥹 but here it is <3 it’s a lil different from how i usually write so i hope you guys like it ♡ i’m nervous

play — talking body by tove lo

☆ posting soon ☆

taglist ☆ masterlist

#haven’t posted a tae fic in almost a year 👁#yus’ moodboards #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts moodboards #taehyung #kim taehyung fanfic #fic: talking body

270 notes · View notes

hisunshiine · 2 years ago

Text

—ship happens! a nauti-cal tale of (light) betrayal & romance

My embarkation ticket to The Seven Seas Collab hosted by @ressjeon

☸︎ posted: september 6, 2022 @ 10 PM

☸︎ pairing: PianoPlaying!Yoongi X Performer!YN

☸︎ wc: 7,710 words

☸︎ genres/au’s: coworkers2lovers, cruise ship au, light angst, smluff, 18+

☸︎ warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, explicit smut: fingering, oral (m&f), protected sex, multiple orgasms, post-sex cuddling

☸︎ an: please note this will have at least one more part, and while this part doesn’t have angst, the next part will. Thank you to the amazing @zachari for his help brainstorming realistic issues for people to face on a cruise, despite neither of us having been on one yet. Thank you to @peachiilovesot7 for being the best beta reader to ever exist. To @whippedbywonho1, @vintagesunnies-blog, @yoongiobsessed, I am so grateful for your feedback, it really made sure nothing was left out and motivated me to continue to write Yoongi this way, in all his sexy, caretaking glory. whew. there will be a part 2! please let me know what you think!

☸︎ summary: You pick up a new entertainment job on a cruise ship, hoping that performing will get you the big break you’ve always wanted. You didn’t expect to meet Yoongi, who you mesh well with for performances, but after a betrayal of nauti-cal proportions, trouble arises in paradise.

Part 2 | The Seven Seas Event Masterlist | masterlist

Your roommate covers her ears as you let out the loudest scream in excitement. You’ve just opened your email that evening and are reading through the good news when she throws a pillow at you for scaring her cat under the coffee table.

“Dear YN LN,

Thank you for applying for the entertainment position. We are happy to offer you the main stage performance for dinner shows on our Sweet Night Cruise Liner. Your starting date to report to the port for employee boarding is…”

You press the side button to lock your phone, deciding you’ll come back to read the rest of the email once you’re alone and feeling a bit calmer from the news. Jumping onto your couch, you bounce on the old cushion and springs, your roommate rolling her eyes at your immature behavior.

“What’s got you acting like a damn rugrat, YN?”

“I got the job!”

“What? Why didn’t you say that?!”

“I did! Just now!”

“I mean, why didn’t you use your words instead of that shrill ‘scream queen’ scream you let out?”

“I was excited!” you laugh, and with one last bounce, you allow yourself to fall onto the cushion.

“So what’s the plan then? I mean…how long will you have to be gone for?”

“I think the contract was for seven months, with a month off in the middle...”

You unlock your iPad and pass Minji the device. She clicks the email icon so that she can pull up the email you squealed over. Her eyes scan over the information and checklist provided in an attached PDF.

“Damn, that’s pretty demanding.”

“But it’s a step closer to everything I’ve ever wanted, Minji. Performing for people is my dream and this way—”

“Well it looks like they're pretty explicit about performing original songs, YN. It appears like you’ll have to stick to the catchier things or like…covers of well-known songs.”

“I know, but it’s about the connections that I can make. If a bigwig gets on the ship, the crew will definitely talk. Several famous people have been discovered working on cruise ships or got the practice to perform on the big stage from cruise ship gigs.” You can envision it now: the CEO of a music company approaching you after one of your sets and offering you his card.

Minji’s voice pops the idea bubble before it can fully form.

“Okay, but that’s IF a bigwig gets on during your seven to eight months on board.”

You shoot her a glare, then flop back onto the couch cushion.

“I know, but here’s to hoping, right? And if not, at least I get to do what I love: perform!”

Minji sets the iPad down and grabs a bottle of wine from the kitchen. The two glasses in her other hand clink together harmoniously as she sets them down on the coffee table.

“Yes, darling, here’s to hoping!”

☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎

Saying goodbye to Minji and her cat was hard, but the excitement of this next step for you spurred you on, step after step as you boarded the Sweet Night Cruise Ship. Your flight to Spain wasn’t too bad, and the trip to Venus Beach where you and all of the crew will be boarding was a pretty, scenic route.

Working on a cruise ship isn’t a job most people aspire to, but as a performer, this is something you’ve dreamed of. You get to perform nightly for guests, you have free room and board, get to travel to some beautiful places, and your free time is spent honing your craft. Writing songs, learning new dances, everything about this opportunity is beneficial thanks to the resources provided by the ship.

As a performer looking to find a way into the entertainment industry, this is your way to gain experience and make connections within the industry while making good money. A check-in agent sits at a table for all employees to review their checklists before gaining the keycards to their cabin. As a main performer, you get a cabin to yourself, but it isn’t as big as a guest cabin.

You’re okay with this though, as you plan to spend your time rehearsing and working on music. You take the elevator behind the check-in table marked as a staff-only one and as you walk along the cream colored walls, you stop at room number 325; this is your home for the next few months while you sail the big ocean blue. Your cabin is located on the third floor, making it easy to avoid the guests when taking the staff elevator at the end of performances.

You admire the way the owner of the cruise line decorated the room; as you look to your right, you see a full size bed with a cream-colored wrapping headboard tucked into the space, and a mounted TV above a tiny desk in a cut-out hutch in the wall. There’s closet space on either side of the TV hutch, opening above where the mattress ends and a small vanity with a sink straight across from the door you just opened.

Continuing along the wall, you see a built-in shelf unit and the clear glass of the standing shower. Across from the shower is a door you’re pretty sure leads to the enclosed toilet, and lights that trail along both the floor and ceiling edges. It might be small, but the way that everything is laid out provides plenty of space for a single person to be able to live.

It doesn’t take you long to unpack your suitcase and put away all of your belongings. You look at the small, cellophane bag that holds flyers and information for you to review, including a folding map of the ship and amenities you can access as a crew member. Flipping through, you can see that on the other half of the third floor houses the crew-only accessible locations, like the crew management office, mess hall, and a recreation area for when you aren’t working. Grabbing your small cross body satchel, you decide to explore for a couple of hours before you need to meet your work group.

Your tour of the third floor reveals the recreation area has comfy sitting areas, a mini library with various books, board and table games on a shelf with DVDs, and a few TV’s spread out with gaming consoles. Several other crew members are also walking around getting acquainted with the ship, and you say hi to a few of them, trying to be friendly. Glancing at your phone, you see that you still have an hour until you need to report to the second floor, so you take the elevator back up to the deck to enjoy the Spanish weather and kill time.

With a large grand staircase leading up to it, the first level of the ship houses several different venues for people to enjoy music and alcohol. The staircase opens up to a main stage and dance floor, with small black tables and two large, circular bars that can hold around fifteen people each. This is the only venue that is open to the entire area where diners can enjoy the performances. You eye the 1950’s theme of the equipment and blue lights around the stage before turning right. Walking along the carpeted corridor, your fingers trail delicately over the carved, walnut colored banister that keeps you from falling down into the second floor where you can see some seating for the restaurants and dining areas. Each of the enclosed venues following the open stage have various names and you’re pretty sure they match the genres that will be played in them. Dark & Wild had a rock/grunge look to it, while Persona seems to have a pop feel with shades of pinks and whites decorating the entrance. Contrastingly, Wings is filled with a lot of colored lights and what looks like a revolving stage with a DJ booth in the middle, so you are sure that is for EDM/rave music, all while Youth appears to be a kid/teen friendly club atmosphere. The last club is called Proof and holds black furniture inside, with a white stage and DJ booth and you love the way the wall shimmers around the room.

You walk back down the hallway to the main stage across from the staircase and walk further into the area. Sitting at one of the black bar stools closest to the stage is a handsome man with blond hair, his long fingers pressed against one another in a steeple as his elbows rest on the empty bar. You slide into a seat next to him, startling him from his deep thoughts.

“Hi, I’m YN, singer.”

“Min Yoongi, pianist.”

He gives you a half-smile at his response, but before you can spark up anymore conversation, two others walk over and sit next to each of you. A girl playfully rocks Min Yoongi on the black pleather seat, a smile lighting up her pretty, youthful face. He rolls his eyes at her, but you miss their exchange of words as you turn your attention to the man sitting next to you. He greets you, offering his hand for you to shake, and once it's quiet you can hear the banter between the pair across from you.

“Is she your performer?”

“I think so, one of them at least. Are you supposed to be here? I thought you already had your meeting.”

“I should have, dearest brother, but Kim Taehyung pushed our meeting back so I came to bother you.”

Yoongi looks like he’s about to use his shoulder to shove his sister, but at that moment, a voice pulls everyone’s attention.

“Welcome! We are so glad to have you here on Sweet Night Cruise Liner.” The woman is in an official cruise employee polo shirt with a name tag that says ‘Areum’ with the words ‘stage coordinator’ underneath it in smaller caps. She leads a small group of others behind her, and glances at the clipboard in her hand.

“I’m only missing Min Yoongi, YN, and Choi Soobin…” Areum glances between you and Yoongi’s sister, trying to figure out which of you is the spare while the others she already checked in sit down at the spare stools around the bar.

“I’ll just get out of here then. I have my own meet and greet soon,” she says as she slides out of the seat gracefully and gives a small wave to her brother. “Toodles!”

Once she’s disappeared, Areum begins the meeting by doing a quick introduction of herself and her role. She explains that she is one of several stage managers, but she is essentially the stage manager for the two groups gathered here, and will be who you report to for all things related to your performances. If you’re sick and can’t make it, need a costume repair, set list change, etc., she is your person.

“We’re stage groups C and D, so if you take a look at these calendars,” Areum hands out several calendars to Yoongi, who takes one and passes them down to you, “you can see I’ve highlighted when group C and D performances are. We’ll figure out how to split everyone into the two groups during this pre-boarding week. Practices are typed in red, so please be sure you are on time for those. Any time between practices you are free to roam the ship or go ashore as long as it is outside of the performance window. If you requested specific days off during the trip, please see me so we can make sure everything is covered during your absence.”

You look over the calendar, noting that you will have a good amount of rest days sprinkled in during the trip. Basically, there is a lunch performance and a dinner performance, and with what appears to be four groups alternating on the main stage, you will work a dinner one night, lunch the next day and then have the next two days before it repeats. Practices seem to line up well, happening the morning before dinner performances and the evening after lunch performances.

“Please take a look at the calendars while I explain the practices a bit. Take for example group C: morning practice will be for the show coming up that evening, then they perform in the evening and the next day at lunch. Practice that evening will be for the new performance. Two days of rest, though we highly recommend you practice in your down time together, and then the morning practice is the final dress rehearsal. Does that make sense to everyone?”

You nod along with the others, noting that Yoongi takes notes on his calendars and you wish you had brought a pencil along, too.

“This week we will be practicing everyday to figure out who will perform and practice when, so make sure that you are on time.”

Areum hands each of you a purple folder that is unassuming, with nothing written on the large white label on the front cover.

“This folder reviews the themes for each night and includes the list of the songs that we can choose from for the performances. Please go through each decade's packet of songs, and take this time to circle all of the songs you can do so we can coordinate costumes and pair my performers with musicians. Put a star next to your top five song choices for each decade, and I’ll take your completed forms once you finish.”

You look over the first list, seeing several of your favorite songs. You take a pen from Areum, starring The Flamingos’ “I Only Have Eyes For You”, The Everly Brothers’ “All I Have to Do is Dream”, Marilyn Monroe’s “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend”, The Platters’ “Only You”, and Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers’ “Why Do Fools Fall In Love”.

You circle a lot of other songs, but there are still quite a few you don’t recognize by name alone, and you hope that the other singers didn’t choose too many of the same songs as you. Flipping through the other decades, you get excited as you see the songs from the 60’s, 70’s and beyond, and once you’ve finished identifying the songs you can perform, you sit back, excited about this new venture. This is everything you’ve ever wanted.

After your first official day of practice you’re paired with Min Yoongi. At the start of the day, Areum explained that you had each starred most of the same five songs from each decade the day prior, and she wanted to see how well you worked together. By the end of practice, she can’t bear to split the two of you up, despite having you both practice with other artists.

“I know some of these songs aren’t just piano-based, but Diamonds is just Marilyn and a piano, and I think that the two of you will absolutely shine on stage together. The way you flirt with the piano, your performance with Yoongi is just perfect!” she gushes, and you can’t help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

Yoongi is very handsome and while you don’t mind the compliments you receive for your performance, hearing Areum point out the chemistry she sees between you and Yoongi is a little embarrassing. You barely know the guy.

“Thanks Areum, he’s a great pianist and picks up on my cues really well, so it’s easy to work with him.”

Yoongi brushes his hair down on the sides, hiding the red growing on his ears as he hears your kind words. He knows he is talented and good at what you said, but hearing a pretty girl like you say it makes him feel shy. And now you’re going to be his set partner for the next eight or nine weeks at least, depending on how long you signed on for.

Areum has a couple monthly calendars printed out, and she has the two of you sit down with her.

“I know we talked a lot about the 1950’s, but I’m actually assigning you two as group D. You’ll perform one 1950’s song for the opening performances the first two nights, Saturday and Sunday, as we’re going to showcase all of the groups for the VIP guests, and then group C will perform the 1950’s Monday dinner and Tuesday lunch. You’ll officially start with the 1960’s for Tuesday dinner and Wednesday lunch.”

She goes through the days for the first leg of the trip, identifying which decades will be represented each day and allowing you to make note of your specific performances and decades. Thankfully, you have secured a pretty big stage, and while you practice and perform a lot, you also have a great schedule to be able to enjoy the cruise destinations as well. The ship will dock for five or so days at each city during the first month, so even with practices and the performance window rule, you have at least part of a day available to leave and explore each city.

Yoongi lays in his bed, scrolling through old pictures on his phone. So many of his photos show him and DaSom smiling at the camera, but he knows that most of these photos have plenty of negative memories attached to them. Like the beach day where DaSom admitted that she had slept with his best friend early on in their relationship. Or the movie night when she yelled at him and cried until he allowed her to go through his phone to make sure he wasn’t cheating on her.

Or the time she tried to make Yoongi feel bad because she decided to take the chance to study abroad in Italy, and broke up with him because she didn’t think he could be faithful with her being so far away, despite him never cheating on her. Through these negative experiences with her, Yoongi learned that people have a way of projecting their own wrongdoings onto others.

Setting aside his phone, he rolls over and gets comfortable on the polyester sheets. He loves the way his room is laid out and is happy that he was able to secure a solo room as one of the main performers for the stage. This opportunity to play for hundreds of people for several months came to him at just the right time.

He was three months into nursing his broken heart from DaSom when his coworker at the music store showed him the audition flyer posted on the window. A month later he received the email and now here he is, embarking on a new venture, and he actually doesn’t miss DaSom as much as he used to. Especially when the last thing he thinks about before drifting off to sleep with the soft ocean waves in the port are your eyes.

One week of practicing and you’re finally confident in your sets for the first shows you’ll have, where you’ll perform one song from the 1950’s and then full sets of tunes from the 1960’s. Practices ran ten to twelve hours, with plenty of hydration breaks and a decent lunch break, but most of the entertainers, including you, enjoyed continuing on with practice. Especially having someone like Yoongi to practice with; he’s sarcastic, funny, hardworking, and you can’t help but get lost as you watch his hands fly across the keys.

Areum makes frequent runs off the ship into town to pick up items for the shows, working with the tailors on the ship to get your costumes ready. This allows for you to have some breaks spent standing still while the tailor fit a costume to you, or trying on various outfits for different decades to see which went best with your song choice. You and Yoongi often take trips to the wardrobe room together, making sure your outfits match each other.

It’s a nice break from the grueling practices, and you often get to see a more playful side of Yoongi when he models the various outfits, and you can’t help but start to grow fond of him. Since he’s your main pair for shows, all of your time-off lines up together, so it’s not uncommon for people to find the two of you catching dinner together after practice, hanging out in the staff recreation room talking, or watching a reality show that other crew members have put on.

After putting in all the hard work for your shows, it is quite a nice surprise to be able to relax at the end of the week with the crew party to celebrate take off from the port. VIP check-in is happening at the same time, allowing the VIP guests to explore the ship and enjoy the festivities with the crewmates. You walk around the deck in your bathing suit, though you’re wearing shorts that are unbuttoned so as not to come across as indecent—not that any of the others seemed to care much about that.

Several others were in scantily clad bikinis, and the men were also in tight, short boardshorts, much shorter than what you would see at the local pool back home. Everyone seems to be excited to let loose before the ship sets sail, and you decide to join them.

With a drink in your hand, you dance with a few girls you’ve made friends with when a series of throwbacks come on, and let them introduce you to another group of crew members who work in culinary. You spend most of the sunny day meeting new faces, dancing until you want to drop, and taking a quick dip in the pool to cool off.

Wanting to make sure you drink enough water before you start work tomorrow, you pass by the refreshment table, spotting a familiar head of hair leaning over the railing, scrolling through his phone.

“Yoongi! Why’re you hiding out over here?”

Yoongi turns away from his phone, locking it and sliding it into his pocket as he greets you.

“Not hiding out, just relaxing. It’s nice over here.”

You nod as you sip your drink, agreeing with a hum. You eye the setting sun, magnificent rays of pink, purple, and orange lighting up the horizon.

“It is. Spain’s weather has been amazing, it’s a pity that we can’t enjoy it more.”

“Yeah, but we finally get to start performing once we take off.”

The smile on your face can’t hide. Performing is everything you’ve been waiting on!

“Ahh, I know! I’m so excited, I don't know how I will be able to sleep tonight…probably why I’m drinking a little bit.”

“You know alcohol will mess with your vocal chords, YN.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t drink that much! And I’m strictly on water from now on.”

“Technically,” Yoongi grins as he gestures to the sea, “you’ve been on water for several days now.”

Throwing your head back, you laugh at his joke, accidentally bumping your body into his. He’s warm, and you’re still a little tipsy, so you don’t step away from his heat. Yoongi doesn’t back away either.

“I’m really excited that we’re paired together, Yoongi. You’re honestly the best musician on the whole ship.”

In the drawing darkness, you can’t see the way Yoongi’s ears turn red at your compliment.

“I’m alright…you have the real talent. Performing all of those songs, you get up on stage and give the audience a whole show. I just sit at the piano and play.”

Shaking your head, you look up into Yoongi’s eyes, not realizing how close the two of you actually are as you respond.

“I wouldn’t be able to give them a show without you.”

Yoongi’s throat bobs as he takes a hard swallow, the two of you staring silently at each other. The sounds of the party happening behind you fade as you feel yourself leaning closer into him.

“YN! Get over here, there’s some more people you gotta meet!” One of the girls from the group earlier, Julie, screeches across the deck to get your attention. You and Yoongi take a step back from each other, and you miss the warmth his body provided already.

“I should go over there before she keeps drunkenly yelling at me…don’t need her causing a scene,” you chuckle as you take slow steps backwards away from Yoongi.

He puts his back to the railing, hands holding onto it as he stretches, and the wind takes his white tee and ripples it along his lithe frame. You wish to tame his blond tresses as they flutter. In the moonlight with the gentle waves in the background, you wish you could capture him like this.

“Definitely wouldn’t want a scene with the VIP guests here,” he says with his eyes full of mirth despite his calm demeanor and tone.

“See ya tomorrow, Yoongs.”

He chuckles to himself at the nickname as you saunter off over to the group of girls he had seen you with earlier. He had wanted to spend time with you at the crew party, but it wasn’t so much his scene. The girls you were with are loud and after a few drinks, a little too obnoxious to be around.

Yoongi prefers to be lowkey at parties, chilling with a drink and having good conversation with friends. It’s been a long time since he’d gone to a party anyways, what with DaSom and her jealousy. He didn’t really know how to be like the group you were with, and he didn’t want to slow down their fun. He was happy you came over and spent some time with him, though now he’s going to spend the entire night thinking about what might have happened if Julie and her big mouth hadn’t interrupted.

Spain goes by in a flash. Your performance of Marilyn Monroe’s “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” was a hit amongst staff and guests, with several VIP guests leaving great reviews. Your decades during the Spain stops were the 1950’s and 60’s, though with the 90’s coming up, most of your time is spent practicing with Yoongi and hanging out with the group of girls you met at the crew party. The girls all swoon over the hot men on the boat, including the owner's son who is always seen around the place socializing. It’s not so surprising to you when one day at lunch, Julie brings up Yoongi.

“He’s quiet, stays to himself a lot, but he’s a total babe.”

“Yeah, the only time I ever see him come out of his shell is when he’s with YN.”

Everyone’s eyes turn to you, and you have to duck your chin to hide the smile growing on your face.

“He totally talks to others too,” you murmur as you take a bite of your sandwich.

“Oh, we know he talks to other people, but his eyes light up when he’s talking to you.”

You wave your hand to dismiss the comment, though over her shoulder, you see Yoongi in line to grab his lunch, his eyes brightening when he catches yours.

Of course you think Yoongi is hot. He’s got that quiet, effortlessly cool vibe about him, and you can’t help but be drawn to him. It doesn’t help that he’s talented, always sings your praises when you practice, and has been frustratingly…flirty, yet distant. He never accepts your invites to watch a movie with the others, and he has yet to spend any time outside of the practice room or practice hours with you.

The morning that you dock in St. Tropez, a coastal town in the south of France, the weather is amazing. You can’t believe your luck, except that today, you have to stay on the ship. Part of the rules for performers is that you must remain on the ship from the moment the clock hits 18 hours before you have to step on stage. It sucks, but it is for the best. You had heard horror stories from Areum and other performers about past crew members who were left behind and messed up important shows due to leaving the ship too close to show time. Some even left the ship with what would seem like plenty of time, but thanks to alcohol and hot foreigners, sometimes time slips by and performances have to be canceled.

Despite being confined to the ship, you still make time to sneak up to the deck for a bit to enjoy the sun's rays. You’ll have tomorrow off, and you come up with a plan to make the most of your time in such a beautiful city.

Your performance goes off without a hitch.

At breakfast, when you run into Yoongi, you casually invite him to come with you off the ship for a day trip around the city.

“Ahh, I would, but I promised Areum that I would meet her in the practice room to review some stuff for tomorrow,” Yoongi’s brows furrow as he rubs the back of his neck, clearly upset that he can’t go with you.

This gives you the confidence to invite him out the next day off you have. The way he so clearly seemed sad to reject your offer didn’t go unmissed, so, on your last day in St. Tropez, you invite Yoongi off the ship. The weather has held out for all five days that you’ve been docked, but the weather wasn’t planned to stay this well. You didn’t have anything much that you wanted to see in particular, you just wanted to spend some one-on-one time with Yoongi outside of work.

“Actually, I’d like to go,” Yoongi responds, much to your surprise, “but, would you mind if we stopped at the store? My phone charger broke and I’d like to get a new one in town. I’m sure it’s cheaper than the gift shop on the ship and it might be nice to feel solid ground for a few hours.” Yoongi agrees easier than you expected, despite hoping this would be the result, and you smile at him as you respond.

“Of course, I’d love the company! And I think it’s supposed to rain later, so it’s a good idea to enjoy the weather while it lasts,” you surmise, linking arms with Yoongi as you drag him from the breakfast bar towards the elevators to the deck.

St. Tropez teems with good eats, and Yoongi, the ever knowledgeable man you find out, has some places he wants to go to try the local cuisine.

“I hear that the Bouillabaisse is delicious this time of year, and you have to eat it in a special order, first the broth, then the fish, then the croutons and rouille. Do you like seafood?”

You nod, excited to try local specialities.

“Actually, I do, and I’ve always wondered about Bouillabaisse ever since I read about it in Harry Potter.”

“Nerd.” Yoongi gives you a playful shove with shoulder, and you clutch your heart as if hurt by his words.

“Hermione shaped my childhood, thank you very much. I can’t wait to try this!”

Yoongi gives you a soft smile that you miss as you look at your phone to translate the chalkboard outside one of the restaurants, and he puts up no resistance as you take his hand and pull him inside.

Spending the day with Yoongi was more fun than you expected, in more ways than one. You had hoped he would accept your invitation, so you had dressed that morning in a sleeveless, slightly cropped blouse and form-fitted cotton skirt, finishing the look with a cute hairstyle to camouflage the reaction to the humidity. He knew a lot about France and their culture, especially when it came to their food and their architecture. You couldn’t help but follow along with every word that fell from his glorious mouth, adoring the way his passion for the rich culture shone through when he spoke about it. You felt enamored like a princess in a fairytale, or how you imagine a princess might feel when being courted by her prince.

Yoongi is your own personal tour guide as you check out Musée de la Gendarmerie et du Cinéma; a gallery full of pictures, cars, props, dioramas, and the movie posters for each film depicted. The two of you venture forth to the ground floor to check out the souvenir shop before heading to La Maison des Papillons, a small, quaint museum dedicated to butterflies.

“Yoongi, these are absolutely beautiful!” your voice is full of happiness, eyes dancing as you take in the art work and the butterflies mounted in cases on the walls.

“I thought you might like this place.”

“What gave it away? The butterfly tattoo on my wrist?”

“Mmm, I decided we should come here instead of visiting the Citadel of St. Tropez. Figured you would enjoy this a bit more.”

You smile softly over at him, knowing he knew all about your love for butterflies from talking earlier at lunch. You didn’t realize he changed the plan for your trip based on what he learned about you, but your stomach felt like it was full of the winged beings on the walls—a happy, floating feeling that he would do something like that just for you and your happiness.

You step outside once the two of you are done in the small museum. You didn’t expect the rise of heat in the atmosphere, but one glance at the sky and you realize the cause.

“Yoongi, should we head back to the ship? It looks like rain, and the heat outside feels like rain.”

He nods, familiar with the signs of a forming storm.

“Probably for the best, and it’s getting late, too. We can grab dinner on the boat.”

Absentmindedly, he takes your hand and the two of you wind down the cobblestone paths back towards the dock.

☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎☸︎

“Stop hogging the covers!”

“It’s scary, I need to hold onto something!”

“I mean, I am right here, you can hold onto me if you’re scared.”

“Okay, but when I squeeze you too tightly, I don’t want to hear you complain!”

Yoongi just chuckles as you maneuver your body to get more comfortable with him. You both agreed a movie was a good continuation of your “date” once returning from the ship’s dining hall. You teased during the walk back to the ship that it felt like a date, to which Yoongi replied with a quirk of his eyebrow “isn’t it?” This is how you find yourself currently lying on his bed, blankets over your bodies as The Train to Busan plays on the flatscreen.

Your body is cocooned by Yoongi’s and his arms wrap under your own to circle your waist. His hands are clasped above the hoodie you wear, the one he had so kindly supplied from his own closet after you complained about being cold, with his fingers intertwined above your waist in a polite way, as to not encroach on any territory of your body that would be...unseemly.

Not that you would mind. You had spent the better half of dinner watching the way he held his utensils, the grasp he had on his scotch glass, the way his fingers pulled apart his dinner roll with gentle, yet firm movements. A part of you wants his hands to wander, wants to feel his strong fingers purposefully travel your body, playing you like he plays the piano to pull beautiful melodies from your mouth. A loud clap of thunder rattles the room, and you can feel the boat sway from the storm outside.

“Yah, pay attention,'' he chides you quietly, breath hitting your ear and causing your body to shiver against his.

“Are you still cold?”

“No, it’s the storm—scared me” you lie, and Yoongi pulls you in a little closer to his chest. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart hammers inside your chest.

“Are you comfortable, Yoongi?”

“Yeah, you’re fine.” His hands unclasp, and he smoothes down some unruly strands that you assume blocks his view of the zombies attacking people. “Still kind of cold though.”

His hands boldly push under the hoodie he had given you earlier, cold fingers pressing into the softness of your exposed tummy as he seeks the warmth of your skin. You jolt from the cool temperature of his firm skin against yours, and he giggles, lightly tickling you so you're forced to buck in his hold, your ass pushing against his pelvis. It’s not until it turns into a full-fledged tickle fight with Yoongi straddling you as he pins you beneath him, both of you panting with chests touching, that you feel the bulge against your center, which is already leaking into your panties.

“Y/N…”

Yoongi’s eyes are dark, but in the flashing light of the forgotten movie, you can see how glossy they are as he looks at you, reflecting back the mutual pining.

“I want you, Yoongi,” your breathless voice is full of need, and Yoongi responds to it, crashing his lips down into yours. His kiss tastes of the scotch he drank with his dinner, and you feel like you could get drunk off of his kisses. His hands trail down to your waist, grasping the edges of the hoodie and lifting it off over your head, breaking the kiss for a few moments before he begins to kiss your lips and then trail his lips down towards your neck.

Your body reacts, and you can’t stop from moaning his name once his teeth graze that sensitive spot under your ear. He reads you well, continuing to kiss and suckle that spot while his hands dive lower, sliding up your thighs where your skirt has ridden up, one hand pulling aside your panties so that he can use his fingers on his other hand to trace the sticky essence around your throbbing clit, giving you the attention you’ve been wanting there. You feel when he adjusts the positioning of his fingers, pushing two inside your pulsing walls as his thumb continues to circle your nub.

Your hips roll, allowing you to ride his fingers, meeting them with every plunge so you can fuck yourself to his rhythm. He releases your panties, freeing up his other hand so that it can bunch up your shirt over your chest. He pops your breasts free from your bra, and his lips move from your neck to your pert nipple, tongue swirling around it before he flicks it several times, eyes looking up at your face where you’ve thrown your head back into the pillow.

The sounds you make are pure honey; Yoongi can’t take his eyes off the way you move. You’re the most amazing instrument he’s ever played.

“Yoongi…I, I need more,” you pant, hoping he understands. He does.

You feel him pull back from you, a whine leaving your lips from the loss of contact. Your eyes open to search for him, and you’re greeted with the sight of Yoongi sticking his fingers in his mouth, glossy with your cum as he sucks them clean with a lewd smack of his lips.

Lust clouds your vision as he grabs the back of his shirt with one hand and pulls it over his head, leaving his hair disheveled. You quickly join him in shedding your clothes. He shucks his jeans off, boxers disappearing over the edge of the bed along with your now ruined panties, and you position yourself in the middle of his bed as he leans across your body to the nightstand. You pluck the condom that he pulls from the drawer from his fingers, wanting to feel him in your hands as you eye his hard length, flushed with his need, a pearlescent drop leaking from the tip.

Sitting back up, you shift your body so you can grasp him, tongue flicking out to taste him as he groans from your touch. You give him a few moments of pleasure as your mouth encapsulates the head and sucks, twirling your tongue before you release him with a pop of your lips to carefully tear the top of the wrapper open. Pinching the top of the condom, you roll it over his length, making sure there’s space for him to release into.

He shivers at the feeling of your hands caressing him, moving much too slowly for his liking. Once you have him sheathed, he pulls your face to his with both hands, allowing you both to taste yourselves mixed with each other. His hands move to your waist, pulling you where he wants you, and you expect him to hover over your body and finally fill you. He instead moves lower, body slipping between your thighs as he brings his face to the apex of your thighs.

Yoongi licks a long stripe along your slit, causing you to grasp at the bedsheets, lifting your hips to desperately chase his tongue. You don’t have to wait long, as he throws one of your legs over his shoulder and puts his hand on the opposite thigh to hold you open as he begins to devour you.

It’s lewd, the sounds his lips and tongue make as he flutters his tongue against your clit and fucks your hole with his fingers. Your hands pull at his blond strands, the melody of your whines and mewls filling the room. Soon your legs begin to shake, and with a loud cry of his name, you release. He laps it all up until you pull at his hair in overstimulation.

“Please, Yoongi, pl-please…”

“Okay, baby, since you’ve been so good for me.”

His face, with slick covering his lips and chin, comes into your sight as you blink up at him in the flickering light of the movie. He kisses you feverishly, tongue pushing into your mouth to intertwine with yours as he brings a leg up to his shoulder. He aligns his cock with your entrance, feeling you clench around the very tip of him as he rests against your leaking hole, before he pushes himself into you.

You take a deep breath as he enters, trying to relax your muscles as his girthy length stretches you open, splitting you in such a delightful way. He pulls away from the kiss, his hand grabbing your face so he can tug your chin down to meet your eyes. His gaze is piercing, but you can’t look away as he rocks his hips and presses deeper into you still. You gasp out, a small cry for more as he gives you what you ask for.

“That’s it, baby, you can take all of me.”

You rock with him, hands gripping his pert ass, letting him see how much you can take as you pull him into you. He bottoms out, the two of you grunting at the feeling of fullness he provides you with.

“You’re so deep,” you gasp out, and he drops his face into the crook of your neck as he responds.

“And you’re so tight, I thought I prepped you well, but fuck, baby…” he trails off, breathing heavily as your walls pull at him.

“Please, Yoongi, move, I need you to m-move,” you beg, and he does, pulling back and slamming his hips into you, unable to control himself with how good you feel wrapped around him.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” Yoongi’s lips speak against your skin before he bites your neck, unable to contain himself from how you grip him. You tangle your fingers with the blond hair at the nape of his neck, tugging with every dip he takes inside of you, whiny breaths escaping as you get closer and closer to climax.

He continues to chase his own high, his hand on your breast as his fingers tweak at your nipple.

“Cum for me, Yoongi, I want you to feel good,” you plead. You feel him lean back, placing his hand on the leg he has bent up by your ear, and he goes impossibly harder. You can’t hold back and your walls begin to pulsate around him, causing him to burst. Yoongi fills the condom as he slows his strokes down, laying his head down on your chest, breathless as he lowers your leg gently back to the mattress. His head nuzzles between your round breasts, and you gently drag your nails along his back and across his scalp as he hums in contentment.

“You’re amazing, YN.”

You giggle, watching him sit up to tie off the condom and dispose of it in the bathroom. You swap places with him, taking time to pee before you throw his abandoned hoodie back on and join him in his bed. He’s put back on his boxers, and he opens the covers to let you in so he can pull you close once again.

“Do you want to restart the movie? We missed a lot of it.” You yawn, sleep creeping in as your post-orgasm high begs for a nap to replenish your energy.

“Nah, I’m not really interested in watching it anymore.” Yoongi turns off the TV, plunging the both of you into darkness. His fingers smooth down your hair as he gets comfortable. He saw the way your face cutely crinkled as you yawned, and knows you’re tired. He is too, so he figures it’s best to settle in for the night, zombies be damned. “I’m more interested in you, YN. So let’s pick up where we left off at dinner.”

As you sleepily talk a bit more about your hopes and dreams, Yoongi laces his fingers with yours, focusing solely on you, but as your words turn to quiet murmurs and you begin to drift off into dreamland, he can’t help the way his thoughts morph. He knows he enjoyed everything about spending today with you, and has been enjoying practices and shows, and he really wants to do this again with you—little dates in the city by day and satisfying sex in his cabin at night…but in his heart he knows there’s something he needs to talk to you about before it can go any further.

thank you for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated, it lets me know how fast to put out part 2, and what i can do to make part 2 even better for you! please let me know what you think! :)

188 notes · View notes

ressjeon · 4 years ago

Text

these are all fiction and do not reflect the members personally. most of my content is NSFW so please read with caution :)

➻ these works are all my own imagination, i always put credits on each of them if they’re inspired of something.

➻ please don’t repost nor copy my ideas. i give my all when i write these fics, you’ll understand when you do write.

➔ latest: relief (yoongi)

➔ updated: may 25th, 2024

⇠ back to navigation

⇁ check wips for upcoming fics!

legends:

fluff "✿" | angst "✘" | smut "❦" | suggestive "☀︎"

✧ = no pronouns & gender are used or implied

OT7/MULTIPLE MEMBERS

⟶ Sleep Who? ➳ {❦} ➳ [pwp]

⇥ (Jimin x Reader x Jungkook) ⇥ (3.9k)

↳ « it's late, but would that stop you? You know Jimin's always ready but you didn't expect Jungkook to deliver as well »

⟶ Between the Stars and the Moon

➳ {✿, ✘, ❦} ⇥ [ lunar chronicles!au] ⇥ (??k)

― PART OF THE MOONRISE MASQUERADE COLLAB

↳ « a great honour as they say. when you were chosen for an important mission to Luna, you didn’t think you would immediately fall to the man that was assigned to you. when Thaumaturge Kim agreed because of his mere curiosity, he didn’t think you would be different than what he already knew. and when Alpha Jeon received orders that he couldn’t refuse, he didn’t think he would meet his mate in such crucial situations. the bond between both men was formidable until you came along but after loyalties were tested and betrayals seeped through, would you choose between them still? »

김석진 ; KIM SEOKJIN

⟶ I Don’t Think I’m Okay ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [childhood friends!au?] ⇥ (4k)

↳ « with many chances wasted, you couldn’t even resist anymore »

민윤기 ; MIN YOONGI

⟶ (✧) Cupid’s Curse ➳ {❦, ✘} ➳ moodboard

⇥ [exes to lovers!au?] ⇥ (6.3k)

↳ « you don’t even know him anymore, but he’s your first love then so be it»

⟶ Storge: Painting ➳ {✿}

⇥ [domestic!au, family!au] ⇥ (0.8k)

↳ «you're busy preparing something for your one-two arguably little ones without thinking they'll do the same to you »

⟶ Stars The Have Fallen ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [greek goddess!au, titanness!au] ⇥ (??k)

― PART OF THE GODS AMONG US COLLAB

↳ « you knew fleeing from Zeus wouldn't be easy but you couldn't give up that fast without trying your hardest. Enter someone who you didn't expect could be the key to your survival so maybe, just maybe you might have a chance. »

⟶ All I Want Is You ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [holiday!au, on and off!au?] ⇥ (??k)

�� PART OF THE BLUE CHRISTMAS EVENT

↳ « used to Yoongi's unpredictable antics even before you broke up, it made you doubt his actions but what if he swears this will be the last time? »

⟶ Thronal Sacrifice ➳ { ✘, ❦}

⇥ [historical!au, joseon!au] ⇥ (??k)

― PART OF THE KINGDOM COLLAB

↳ « can Yoongi truly fathom sacrifice until the time has come for him to decide between you and his empire? »

⟶ Beguiling Melody ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [1800s!au, vampire!au, voyage!au] ⇥ (??k)

― PART OF: COMPOSITION OF THE CENTURY COLLAB

↳ « secretly boarding the ship in hopes of finding a better life had not been easy. even more so when you witness something that could have put your life in danger. but the ominous yet captivating stranger sparks your curiosity when he began targeting your greatest desires - making you question if his intentions are to solely ensure that you will keep his secret »

정호석 ; JUNG HOSEOK

⟶ Ghost Of You ➳ {✿, ✘,☀︎}

⇥ [childhoodbestfriend!au] ⇥ (12k)

↳ « he keeps begging you to go, but you insist on staying »

⟶ Down The Hatches ➳ {✘, ❦}

⇥ [pirate!au] ⇥ (3k)

― PART OF BANGTAN SORCIERE'S QUIDDITCH MATCH

↳ « to Hoseok, you were his only love as he was to yours and you both managed to maintain this secret for so long but what if fate wanted to decide the inevitable instead? »

김남준 ; KIM NAMJOON

⟶ Holiday Shambles ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [christmas!au] ⇥ (5k)

― PART OF THE CHRISTMAS IN JULY COLLAB

↳ « when you have to spend time with both your parents and Namjoon's snobby ones for this Christmas, you're forced to show the best version of you even knowing what's to come. you're ready, right? After all, you're the best wife aren't you? »

⟶ Cruise Control ➳ { ✘, ❦}

⇥ [summer cruise!au] ⇥ (??k)

― PART OF THE SEVEN SEAS COLLAB

↳ « people around you have pitied you for chasing him but how can you stop when he can never do wrong in your eyes. so perfect that you’ve been blind to what he truly feels about you, convincing yourself that the time will come for him to finally love you. the same questions will resurface once again on this cruise that you’re going on but are you truly ready whether the answers will be the same or not? »

박지민 ; PARK JIMIN

⟶ (✧) Could Have Been You ➳ {☀︎}

⇥ [exes!au] (drabble teaser) ⇥ (832)

↳ « trying to forget old wounds might just spark another one »

⟶ (✧) Please, Lie To Me ➳ {✘, ❦}

⇥ [seelie!/shadowhunters!au] ⇥ (11k)

― PART OF THE THE FABLED COLLABORATION

↳ « centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate? »

⟶ boo..yah! ➳ {✘, ❦}

⇥ [halloween!au] ⇥ (7k)

― PART OF JIMIN’S SUNSET SPOOKTOBER EVENT

↳ « you’ve been hoping that Taehyung will get the message when you keep on ignoring him for months now but what if his very inviting best friend offers something that will for sure relay your answer? »

⟶ (✧) Desperate ➳ {❦} ➳ [model!au] ➳ (3.8k)

↳ « being Jimin's assistant made you immune from his flirty tactics, but somehow you find it hard to resist him when he unusually becomes desperate »

김태형 ; KIM TAEHYUNG

⟶ Washed On ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [fratboy!au] ⇥ (6k)

― PART OF THE HOT BOY SUMMER COLLAB

↳ « Taehyung’s heated stares were what drew you in at first and you think he seemed shy since you’re shameless though he’s confusing you the more you see him. is he just planning all of this or are you also too fixed to see past what he’s been showing you? So who’s really playing here, you or him? »

⟶ Can’t Be Helped ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [easter retreat/spring break!au] ⇥ (??k)

― PART OF THE SPRING BREAK-ING THE RULES EVENT

↳ « holy week just happens to be on the same week of spring break and you’ve been doing your best to avoid any temptations by joining an Easter retreat overseas - only to be met with the said temptation at the very same place where you’re supposed to have a break from him »

전 장국 ; JEON JUNGKOOK

⟶ Blueberry ➳ {✿,☀︎}

⇥ [idol!au] ⇥ (1k+) ⇥ (drabble)

↳ « your boyfriend’s sudden change of hair colour well.. certainly surprised you in one way or another »

⟶ Order Up ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [restaurant!au] ⇥ (4.2k)

↳ « is the rice cake the reason you're choking right now or that hot waiter who can't get his eyes off of you? »

⟶ In This Paradise ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [tropical island!au] ⇥ (16k)

― PART OF THE SUMMER OF KISS EVENT

↳ « in an attempt to escape what's been planned for him, Jungkook hopped on a ship only to face a tragedy that he didn't expect and enter you who somehow couldn't believe to find company in this isolated land. was this fate or was this just a temporary chance of bliss as a challenge for you both? »

⟶ Game Over ➳ {✿,❦}

⇥ [gamer/streamer!au] ⇥ (5k)

↳ « you might not be a gamer but that won't stop your competitive side from wanting to defeat your boyfriend in this new game that you're both currently obsessing with. it's just a matter of time until one of you gives up but Jungkook can’t help wondering if it will be you or him »

― PART OF BANGTAN DLC: A STREAMER BTS COLLAB

⟶ Lovin' Hard ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [summer fling!au] ⇥ (??k)

― PART OF THE END OF SUMMER ESCAPADES EVENT

↳ « you have rules for summer flings but Jeon Jungkook seems to knock them all down in his own little ways »

⟶ Where There's Smoke, There's Fire

➳ {✿, ✘, ❦} ⇥ [firefighter!au] ⇥ (??k)

― PART OF THE WARM THIS WINTER COLLAB

↳ « opposites attract. but jeon jungkook also knows that opposites can have explosive and dangerous reactions when brought together now that he’ll soon be an official firefighter. your differences are what made you attracted to him in the past but when your mutual friends broke up, you naturally fell out of touch. when fate brings the two of you back together, the undeniable spark is still there but with the two of you on such vastly different paths, doubts soon start to creep in. jungkook begins to wonder if he’s holding you back while you’re also similarly questioning the depth of his feelings for you. is this worth a try or are you both just too different to make it work?»

⟶ Stroke Of Midnight ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [exes!au, new year!au] ⇥ (??k)

― PART OF THE RESOLUTION REVOLUTION EVENT

↳ « an opportunity that you couldn’t pass so you left everything behind, including the guy that you first fell in love with because of the sparkles in his eyes. you never thought that you would see him again, in the arms of another woman on the night of your return at a gathering on New Year’s Eve.»

D R A B B L E S

⟶ Annoying ➳ {✿, ✘, ❦}

⇥ [coworkers!au] ⇥ (2.9k)

↳ « you don’t know what his reasons are for pestering you on a daily basis but you sure know why you continue to tolerate him, even when you’re near your limit »

⟶ Endearing ➳ {✿}

⇥ [housemates!au] ⇥ (0.8k)

↳ « you're just worried when your loud housemate suddenly goes quiet after serenading you for hours »

collabs

titillating touches | oneshot collaboration

╰┈➤ status: hiatus

the seven seas | oneshot collaboration

╰┈➤ status: hiatus

#ressjeon: masterlist #bts x reader #bts smut #ressjeon #masterlist

2K notes · View notes

magicshopaholic · 2 years ago

Text

Familiar Faces (Jimin x OC)

Summary: Years after falling out over an unspoken yet common misunderstanding, Jimin finds himself face to face with his most significant ex-girlfriend at a party.

Pairing: Jimin x OC

Genre: Exes; flirting, smut, mild angst and fluff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 12.5 K

Warnings: language, alcohol, longing, flirting, heavy petting, making out, nipple play, car sex, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, jealousy, arguments, mentions of infidelity and abandonment, more jealousy

A/N: A huge thank you to @hobicuffed for brainstorming this mess with me and falling for my Jimin because, in her words, who wouldn't (paraphrasing), and @ressjeon for helping me navigate through the hundreds of scenarios in my head <3

This is also part of my submission for the Bangtan Bingo Spring Event by @bangtanwritingbingo, using my square "Park Jimin".

Listen to: "trials of the past" by SBTRKT

jimin masterlist | main masterlist

It’s a single sound, but it’s enough for Jimin. Through the chaos of chatter, the throngs of people, and the never-ending bass, there’s one sound that makes it through the din of the party and pulls Jimin right back into the past.

It’s just that time of the year.

He must be dreaming. Two years ago, it seemed like she was out of his life for good. Of course, it had seemed like that four years ago, too… and five years ago as well. Every time they fell out, it felt like the last time. A few months would pass and the anger would simmer down, followed by a brief period of nostalgia before both of them got busy with their lives again, and eventually found their way back. Or, in this case, landed up at the same party.

Jimin’s heart beats faster the more he thinks about it. It’s her, potentially, in the flesh. He tries to picture her hair, if it’s changed; if she’s still wearing those bracelets she’d been obsessed with the last time they were both okay; her thousand-watt smile, the curve of her waist into her hips…

It interrupts his thoughts again, the sound. This time, he knows it’s her. It’s so her. It takes him a second to realise he’s smiling, sort of. Despite the history, it could be fun to see her again. Maybe she’s changed. He certainly has; he’s thinner now, fitter. His hair is long, something girls seem to like. He could be reaching, but he thinks he’s gotten taller since the last time they saw each other, despite what Jungkook says.

The song ends and the opening notes of the next one reverberate through the house. This time, Jimin is prepared for it.

Achoo!

Twenty minutes earlier

Jimin hates Sungwoon.

Well, no, he doesn’t. Not really. He hates being invited to a party hosted by a friend of a friend, and then abandoned at said party by the latter friend - that is, Sungwoon. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t mind. He would almost welcome it: going to a party on a weekend, meeting new people, being charming, having a few drinks, possibly flirting with a couple of cute girls who might or might not recognise him.

Ordinarily, he wouldn’t mind. But tonight is just not one of those nights.

He doesn’t know why, though. He doesn’t like to admit it because it makes him sound rather jobless, but he honestly doesn’t even know why he’s here. In fact, the moment he drove up to the house and parked next to the three-storey Victorian house, the bass practically thumping through the walls and the structure looking like it was about to burst with the number of people inside it, he was fairly certain that half the people here wouldn’t know the host, let alone who or what the party is for.

Of course, Jimin is one of those people, too, loathe as he is to admit it. He has one drink in his hand that he’s been nursing for about fifteen minutes now, and he’s currently part of a circle of people in the kitchen who are debating the outcome of some anime show. He’s sure Namjoon would be a better person to participate in this debate, but still, Jimin finds himself talking to a boy and a girl, both around his own age, who seem to be more interested in explaining the show to him than anything else. He tries to look at it as a positive: at least he’s finally socialising.

“So, wait -” Jimin closes his eyes, frowning as he tries to remember. “Nanachi uses the incinerator and kills -”

“No, Reg uses the incinerator,” corrects Jia, the girl, her short blond hair moving as she shakes her head.

“Okay, so then Nanachi tells him to kill…”

“Mitty,” finishes the boy, finally looking satisfied that he’s catching on.

“But…” Jimin frowns deeper. “I thought Nanachi and Mitty were friends. Or something.”

“Exactly,” exclaims Jia, now looking rather hassled. “That’s why it’s so shocking. And that’s why we’re taking bets on the finale this week.”

“It’s going to destroy Reg, to kill her,” says the boy forlornly, shaking his head. Meanwhile, Jia dramatically downs the rest of her drink, turning away as though she can’t bear to talk about it anymore. “Even Nanachi.”

Jimin doesn’t trust himself to respond. He thinks he’s got the broad gist of why everyone is so deeply involved in this show, but the last thing he wants is to contribute and end up sounding stupid, especially since Jia is quite cute… and has been nonchalantly touching his arm every few seconds.

“That’s rough,” he mumbles finally, but a new person’s entry seems to divert everyone’s attention. Jimin peers over a few heads to see a girl he does not recognise enter, but from next to him, Jia skips over to give her a hug and some general chatter begins. He hovers in the same spot for a couple of minutes, slowly sipping his drink and hoping Jia will return but she doesn’t. In fact, she links her arm with the new girl and they both leave the kitchen together, waving at the small group and disappearing.

Jimin leaves, too, eventually. Sungwoon finally texts him (A friend had car trouble. Picking him up on the way. Should be there soon.); it’s only somewhat helpful because while Jimin is reassured that his friend hasn’t abandoned him, it means he has a decent amount of time to kill before he does show up. He leaves the kitchen then, downing the rest of his drink and making his way to the drinks’ table for another.

There’s a surprising amount of choice; opting for a vodka with cranberry juice, a safe yet fun choice, Jimin turns back to face the party, hoping for some familiar face. He wishes he’d brought someone along. He’d almost asked Taehyung, but he’d been on a video call with Dilara and unceremoniously shut the door in Jimin’s face, giving him just enough time to say hi to her before he was alone in the hallway of their dorm. Jungkook had been his next choice, but he’d been knee-deep in a video game when Jungkook had entered, complaining about some player somewhere who was surely cheating.

Hoseok would have accompanied him, Jimin decided, taking a long gulp of his drink and feeling the liquor go straight to his head. But he was visiting family back in Gwangju, thus leaving Jimin all alone. He finishes the rest of his drink, feeling marginally lighter, and goes to pour himself another one.

“Hi.”

Jimin almost jumps out of his skin but recovers quickly. Hoping he hasn’t spilt something on his white shirt (the pink will be impossible to wash off), he turns slightly to see an unfamiliar face.

“Hi,” he replies, slightly unsure but smiling anyway. The guy standing next to him is a bit taller, with a clean buzzcut along the side of his head. He’s holding what smells like whiskey, and he knocks his glass against Jimin’s with a smile.

“I’m Jihoon,” he says, bowing slightly and flashing a smile when Jimin reciprocates. “Sorry, but… you look really familiar.”

Jimin nods, a bit bashful but mostly relieved. While being recognised wasn’t necessarily something he was hoping for, at least it ensures that he won’t have to spend any longer standing by himself next to the drinks table like some chump. “Jimin,” he says, grinning back and shaking Jihoon’s hand. He’s a bit thrown by how firm the handshake is but lets it go.

The mention of his name seems to click, and Jihoon makes a sound of acknowledgement. “Of course. Jasmine here -” He throws his arm around a girl next to him whom Jimin had not noticed until this very moment, “- is a huge fan. She was just complaining that this playlist doesn’t seem to have any BTS in it.”

Next to him, Jasmine, who’s about a head shorter than her companion with warm, amber-coloured hair, flushes. “I didn’t say that,” she mutters, unsticking Jihoon’s arm from her. “I just meant… usually people dance at these kinds of parties which makes them more fun. If they played more dance music, like BTS, it would be. Maybe bring some life to the party.” She rolls her eyes, presumably at Jihoon’s exaggeration.

Jimin smiles, for she’s cute. “I agree with you completely,” he says, noting with pride at how her cheeks go pink again and she suppresses a smile. “It’s never fun dancing alone, though.”

“Oh, you don’t have to -” Jihoon is cut off when Jimin gasps. “Wh-what? What happened?”

It takes Jimin a few seconds. Achoo! When he hears it a third time, he can’t help but chuckle to himself, almost disbelievingly. Out of all the places to find her again… he shakes his head, already feeling the familiar ache of the past, of homework and ice creams, of teenage secrets and first loves.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” he says to Jihoon and Jasmine, suddenly remembering he’s not alone. “I, uh.. I just have to go… find someone.” Jimin’s already walking away when Jasmine calls his name, barely audible over the music.

“Wait! Find who?”

Jimin shrugs, turning back only momentarily. “The life of the party!”

It’s a bit of a stretch, for while she certainly can be the life of the party, Jimin isn’t in a place to presume anymore. He follows the sound, though, guessing vaguely where it might have come from. He reaches what looks like a lounge, by a hallway that’s less crowded and where the music isn’t quite as loud. There’s a dull haze in the air, though; Jimin suspects he’s only noticed it because he’s come from the much more airy living room, but the strong smell of weed solves the mystery for him.

Achoo!

Jimin’s heart thuds. She’s definitely here. When a group of boys exit the lounge with raucous laughter, bumping into people and taking a joint with them, he finally sees her. From behind the group, near the door of the lounge, the smoke clears and he sees her for the first time in two years. Her hair is a bit shorter, bangs longer, a bottle of Corona in one hand as she holds a tissue to her face. Even from this distance, he can spot the red tip of her nose as she sniffles, looking cross as ever.

Jimin snickers but doesn’t look away. Almost as though she can hear him, she looks right at him. Her face goes slack for a moment, eyes sparkling, before she tilts her chin up. She’s fifteen feet away and silent, but he can almost hear her. It’s always the quiet ones.

Sooah can’t quite believe it… and yet, she can. Of course it’s Jimin. Of course he’s here, two years after their last fall out, right here at a party that she’s already bored of. Of course he’s grown up even more, his hair a bright blond, his leather jacket fitting snugly around his shoulders, smile cocky as he waves at her. Of course.

She bites her lip as he walks over, graceful and, in her opinion, far too smiley after what went down the last time. She sneezes once more before he reaches her. “Remember when you hated parties, Park Jimin?”

“I got over it,” he says easily. “Kim Sooah,” he adds after a moment, smile widening. Sooah looks exactly like he remembers, down to the sniffling nose and the bracelets on her left wrist, peeking out from under the sleeve of her frayed denim jacket.

She observes him for a moment with narrowed eyes, trying to ignore the familiar racing of her heart. For fuck’s sake, it’s just Jimin. “How did you find me?” she asks. As if on cue, she sneezes into the tissue once more.

“That’s how,” he replies, patting her casually on the back as she emerges, sniffling again. It feels like the most familiar gesture.

“Ugh, I hate it,” she grumbles, shaking her hair out of her face. “Don’t worry, I’m not sick or anything. It’s some allergy - I don’t know what, though. It’s just -”

“- that time of the year,” he finishes, along with her. There’s a small pause when she nods and Jimin turns to glance at their surroundings. “Have you ever thought about moving away from all this smoke?”

Sooah rolls her eyes. “I’m waiting for a friend,” she explains, pointing to the room where the smoke is wafting out from, now greyer than ever.

“How long have you been waiting?”

“Like twenty minutes.” She scoffs, as though she’s just realised it herself. “Scratch that: yeah, let’s move away from the smoke, please.”

Like the oldest habit, both of them leave together, reaching the living room where Jimin had got his drink from. “Do you want another drink?” he asks, pointing to her bottle. “Since when do you like beer, anyway?”

“A lot of things change in two years, Park Jimin,” she says meaningfully, cocking an eyebrow at him. “But I’m trying to stay light tonight. Still recovering from a hangover,” she adds.

Jimin nods, not surprised. Sooah had been popular at school; so popular that a party would rarely occur without her in attendance. Her friend group was bigger than he could hope to keep track of; he didn’t think many of them were close friends, but it was enough for her to be a permanent face at every event, be it a birthday party, graduation parties, leaving parties, even club openings in Seoul, if the Instagram updates Jimin has checked surreptitiously over the years are any indication. Taking all this into account, it’s no wonder he's run into her for the first time in years at yet another party.

Jimin’s very own attendance at a party had been only six months after he’d joined their school in Seoul. Even there, he suspected to this day that it was because Taehyung had asked the girl hosting to invite him. Naturally, he’s never confirmed this with Taehyung and Taehyung has never volunteered the information either, but it was the first time he had seen Kim Sooah out of her school uniform, with her hair down her shoulders and, predictably, with the small group of pretty and popular kids who were always rumoured to be the only ones able to sneak in alcohol and weed until everyone got older.

Nam Daehyun had been one of them, a basketball player, taller than everyone else in the class. It had become apparent later on that it was only because he’d hit his growth spurt earlier than the other boys, but at seventeen years old, it had seemed like he’d accomplished the greatest thing. Jimin didn’t know if he was Sooah’s boyfriend; it wouldn’t have surprised him in the least since they were always together, albeit with the rest of their group as well. It didn’t matter, for she was much further away from him than simply the width of a room.

Of course, Jimin hadn’t the courage to approach her that night, or the next day. In fact, the first time they’d ever exchanged more than a few words wasn’t until weeks later, when Sooah had approached him in the library for help with her maths homework. She was always so confident, even from afar, that Jimin had been surprised at how quiet and almost timid she’d looked when she’d asked him if he was indeed Park Jimin.

Taehyung told me you’re the best in our class, she’d said. It had taken Jimin a few seconds to process what she asked and then nod, gesturing to the chair next to him. She’d sighed in relief and sat down, smelling of Dove soap. I’m Sooah, she’d said, as though he wouldn’t know. He’d shook her hand, she’d smiled, and Jimin had almost been blinded.

It had been only half an hour of tutoring, but something about the way she looked at him while he explained their homework to her had twisted his heart. It was as though she’d just noticed him, even though he’d been in her class for nearly three semesters. But she’d listened diligently, taking notes and clarifying doubts, until they reached the last problem which she finished on her own.

Sooah had beamed and Jimin’s heart had skipped a beat. I wish I was as smart as you, she’d said wistfully, the sunlight from the library window making her hair glow a warm brown.

You’re very smart, he’d replied, tapping the notebook on the last question.

Not as smart as you, she’d disagreed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She’d left after that, apologetically stating that she had to get to volleyball practice. Jimin had watched her gather her things, unable to believe that he’d spent a whole half hour with Kim Sooah - and that she had come to him.

You’re really nice, Park Jimin, she’d said, just before leaving. She looked like a teenage vision in her school uniform, hair loose even though it was against school rules, the sun shining right on her from the window. With his bowl cut, glasses and chubby cheeks, Jimin wondered with a dull pang if she’d even remember his name tomorrow.

But he’d smiled back, if a bit resigned. So are you, Kim Sooah.

We don’t get a lot of that around here, she’d said, and she sounded a bit disappointed. But then she’d touched his shoulder. It’s always the quiet ones. He’d watched her walk away, her short skirt fluttering by the backs of her toned thighs, her long hair bouncing gently as she left, and tried to count himself lucky that he’d had thirty uninterrupted minutes with Kim Sooah at all.

“Is that Jihoon?”

Sooah’s voice breaks him out of his memory. Trying to ignore the slight racing of his pulse, Jimin turns to look in the direction she is. He instantly recognises the tall guy with the buzzcut, his smaller and shyer friend standing next to him.

"Oh. Yeah."

She turns to him, frowning in surprise. "You know him?"

"Mhm," he replies seriously, nodding and taking a sip of his drink. "Jihoon and Jasmine."

“Huh.” Sooah turns back to look at them. “Jihoon and Jasmine?”

“Yeah. I think she was hitting on me.” Jimin observes her from the corner of his eye, wondering if he’s imagining how her expression changes an infinitesimal amount.

“Uh-huh.” She nods slowly. “Why do you think that?”

He shrugs, focusing on nonchalance. “She’s a fan, apparently. And her friend Jihoon introduced her, so I guess she’s shy.” He grins innocently down at Sooah, blond hair falling effortlessly into his eyes. “I like shy girls.”

Sooah purses her lips and nods, clearly trying not to smile. “Really? Did she say anything else?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Wait… why do you care?”

“I don’t.” Her face doesn’t betray anything, still holding his gaze with suppressed amusement.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. About as sure as the fact that Jasmine was not hitting on you.”

He scoffs. “It’s been years, Sooah. I really don’t think -”

“Jihoon was,” she finishes, returning the charming and innocent smile he’d given her.

“I -” Jimin is driven to silence, but whether due to this new revelation or his ex-girlfriend’s blinding smile, he’s unsure. He looks back in Jihoon’s direction, who, as though he’s heard his own name, looks up and meets Jimin’s gaze. He grins and waves, which Jimin returns with only a moment’s hesitation. Looking back down at Sooah, he shrugs. “I’ll take it.”

She chuckles before sneezing again. “Okay, so it wasn’t the weed,” she grumbles, dabbing her nose again.

“Seems to be getting better, though,” he says, lightly patting her back. His stomach flutters when his thumb accidentally brushes her bra strap.

Sooah nods just as the song changes. “Oh, my god. Do you remember this song?”

Jimin, cheeks already getting hot, shakes his head. “No.”

“Yes, you do!” she exclaims, clearly seeing through him. “It was the first time you danced for all of us, remember? You said you were a modern dancer and you couldn’t do hip hop, but then your friend - I can’t remember her name -” lies “- said you had a real flair for dancing.” She grabs his arm, tugging as though to get him to remember.

“First of all,” he says, putting his hand over hers on his shoulder to get her to stop moving, “she didn’t say it, she yelled it,” he corrects, rolling his eyes. “Secondly, it wasn’t hip hop. It was popping. And I was… I was good. Wasn’t I?” He looks down at her, like he has so many times before.

“Of course you were,” she answers easily. “I remember thinking, Park Jimin is cool. He’s smart and he can dance.” She takes a swig of her beer, apparently oblivious to how his heart swells with pride at her compliment, as though out of habit.

“You thought I was cool?” he asks, a little belatedly.

Sooah, who’s watching a few people start to dance now, gives him a look. “No. I asked you out because I thought you were uncool. Jesus, Jimin.”

Jimin frowns slightly as she looks away again, a memory tugging at the corner of his mind. But then the song fades into another, a popular one this time.

She chuckles “How long before you get asked to dance to this? Steps and all?”

“No, I don’t think anyone here has recognised me yet. Except Jihoon, I guess,” he adds, tilting his head. “God, I don’t think I can dance to this ever again.”

“Don’t remember the steps?”

“I don’t think I could forget the steps to Idol if I tried.” He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll dance if you dance, though.”

Predictably, she scoffs. “Yeah, right. Dancing in front of strangers may be what you do for a living, but you couldn’t pay me to do that.”

“I like dancing in front of strangers,” he says, a little defensively. “Believe me, I gave up a lot to be able to do that.”

“Oh, I know,” she says under her breath, but loud enough for Jimin to catch it.

He sighs. “Sooah -”

She turns to look up at him at the sound of her name, forehead smooth but eyes almost challenging, as though she’s waiting to see if he’ll actually bring it up. Jimin holds her gaze, feeling the familiar rush of excitement of not knowing what was next, as it always was with Sooah.

“Yes?”

Jimin licks his lips, the corners of his mouth already twitching. “Dance with me,” he says abruptly.

She frowns and rolls her eyes. “Don’t be funny, Jimin.” She looks away from him, almost nervously, and takes a large sip of her beer and immediately sneezes again.

“I’m not,” he says lightly, patting her back again.

“You know I’m a shit dancer.”

“I’m not. Together, we average each other out.”

“Using your maths genius to manipulate me?” Sooah raises an eyebrow and chuckles. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Jimin’s heart skips a beat, but before he can dwell on it, someone whoops and a cluster of people join the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room. “Oh, come on, you actually like this song.”

“I like listening to it. Quietly. In a corner, with my beer.” She raises her bottle, apparently not noticing how it’s almost empty.

“Sooah, come on, it’s been two years,” insists Jimin, hearing himself whine a bit and cringing slightly. “For lost time.”

“It’s been two years because you left for Europe.”

“Actually, it’s been two years because you went on a trip to Busan and didn’t call me when you returned to Seoul.”

“Because you’d left for Europe by then!” Sooah shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. Can’t we just stand here and catch up?”

“We can also dance and catch up,” he points out, widening his eyes pleadingly when she gives him a look. “One song.”

She bites her lip, the lipstick red against her white teeth. With the thin black choker, a plain red top and the light blue denim jacket, she looks like she’d been on her way to someplace else when she’d decided to bless this party with her attendance at all. If that’s true, Jimin kind of can’t believe his luck.

“Fine,” she says finally, turning around to place her near-empty bottle on the mantle behind her. “One song. But you’re leading and don’t you dare let me trip, Park Jimin.”

Jimin snickers and places his cup next to her bottle. “Don’t worry, Kim Sooah,” he says, grabbing her hand and walking backwards, “I’m good enough for the both of us.”

Sooah believes him, because she doesn’t have any reason not to. He’s always been graceful, always the most beautiful person in any crowd, despite what he used to think of himself back in school, and later during his debut. Once he’d started gaining some confidence, Sooah remembers, all eyes went straight to Park Jimin - and hers were no exception.

“Okay, now…” Jimin pulls her towards him and wraps an arm around her back, the other holding her hand in his, “just relax. And move,” he adds when she freezes.

Sighing, she tries to loosen up. “I actually do like this song,” she admits, trying to sway like Jimin, whose hips and body are moving in rhythm to the music without him seemingly even trying.

“Of course you do,” he agrees, gently pushing her away to spin her. Her hair brushes his chest as she does and he catches a whiff of something pleasantly floral. His heart soars in amusement as Sooah turns clumsily, stumbling back into his arms.

“I hate you,” she mutters, tossing her bangs out her eyes and trying to pay attention to his feet.

“At least you’re doing it with a professional,” he says, pulling her closer - and noting how she doesn’t resist. When she simply shrugs nonchalantly, he gives her a look. “Really? Is there someone else you’d rather be doing this with?”

She pauses only for a moment before shaking her head. “No,” she says honestly, her heart skipping an unexpected beat when he grins down at her, blond hair falling into his eyes.

Kim Sooah had fallen in love with Park Jimin sooner than she’d expected. She’d realised it within a month after they’d started dating, when he’d gotten a rare evening off from dance practice and shyly texted her to see if she could meet him. They’d gone for ice cream, where they’d had fun trying out the different flavours until she’d decided on cookies ‘n’ cream (Jimin had foregone one due to his diet), and then gone to the park where, in the seclusion of the shrubbery and setting sun, they’d fooled around in the grass.

They were only teenagers, a popular girl and the shy new student who’d embedded himself in her mind since the day she’d asked him for help with maths. Sooah wasn’t sure what it was, just that he’d been sweet and smart, and even charming and funny once he’d opened up to her a bit. He treated her better than any of her friends, even the boys that claimed to have a crush on her, and seemed to care about her interests and personality beyond just what party she was planning to attend that weekend.

That day at the park, he’d been confiding her about how he’d been up all night practising a difficult dance routine, his face transparent with worry. He’d nailed it, though, that day during the test, and they’d given him the evening off as a reward. Sooah had shared his happiness genuinely, loving how his face shone with relief, and had asked him to show her some of it. He’d declined immediately, continuing to do so until she’d confessed that she was a terrible dancer so she couldn’t judge him even if she wanted to.

Biting his lip, he’d pressed a quick kiss to her mouth before standing up and showing it to her. The passion and grace in his movements had been unparalleled, and the fact that he trusted her had tugged at her heartstrings in a way she’d never felt before. Even as the sky darkened, Jimin remained the brightest thing in her vision, and she felt everything she’d read in books and seen in the movies. She was in love, and she hoped to everything she knew that he was, too.

She hadn’t said anything, naturally, not until months later, just before summer vacation was to begin and she had to go back to Busan to visit her grandparents. She’d confessed and he’d returned her feelings, and they’d had sex with each other for the first time.

At that moment, Sooah sneezes again. “Jesus,” she mutters, stopping in her tracks. “What is it in this house?”

Jimin grins again, hips moving subtly in time to the music. “It’s just that time of the year,” he says wisely, spinning her awkwardly again and chuckling when she trips over her feet.

“You’re doing this on purpose, Jimin,” she hisses, nudging him in annoyance.

“Me?” He tugs her closer. “You’re the one with two left feet. I’m the only reason you’re standing upright.”

Sooah’s heart races and she grabs the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer dramatically. She tries to ignore how close his plush, pink lips are, twisted in a smirk. “Good thing the song’s getting over, then. I can stand upright all by myself when you aren’t steering me around.”

Jimin nods, slowing down as the song indeed changes. “That’s good. Do you want me to hang around, though?” He gestures to the tissue she brings out of her pocket, presumably as a precaution. “Just in case you lose your balance battling your allergies?”

She shrugs. “It’s up to you, really.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You really think you can leave the dance floor while this song is playing?”

“Of course.” Jimin gives her an amused look. “I have some self-control. And it’s much more fun dancing with you.”

Flirty little shit. Sooah narrows her eyes. “Dancing? I was just trying not to look stupid, while you were…” She gestures vaguely.

“Breathtaking? I know,” he says seriously. “And you can’t ever look stupid while you’re dancing with me.”

“That’s a lot of confidence, Chim, for someone who was too afraid to get out there just because Idol was playing.” She raises an eyebrow and waits for a similar response, possibly with a backhanded compliment inserted in there. But there’s a small nostalgic smile on his face and the moment Sooah realises why, she feels her cheeks getting warm.

“Sooah, you know you can -”

“Um, hi.”

Jimin is cut off and turns to see Jia, the same girl who’d been passionately explaining that anime to him earlier in the kitchen. Her short hair bobbing as she murmurs a “hi” to Sooah, she looks back up at Jimin with a nervous smile.

“I hope this isn’t too cliche,” she begins, tilting her head charmingly, “but… do you want to dance?”

Jimin raises his eyebrows, and it seems to be only then that he and Sooah realise that they’re still in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, the only ones standing still as people around them do the viral dance moves to the song. His eyes flicker to Sooah, eyes wide and innocent - and daring her to say something.

Sooah holds his gaze for a moment before tearing her eyes away and looking at Jia. “Oh, of course,” she says, taking a step back. “He was just saying that he wants to dance - and I’m not a very good dancer, so.” She shrugs sweetly and gestures towards Jimin, biting her lip when she sees his face go slack.

“Oh, well -” Jia chuckles self-consciously, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think anyone here is as good as you, but if you’re okay…” She shrugs, and Jimin finds himself charmed, especially when Sooah nods.

“Of course,” he replies, smiling and asking for Jia’s hand. “Sooah has never liked dancing all that much.”

“Guilty.” She takes another step back and waves at them, grinning at Jimin who meets her gaze over Jia’s head. Her stomach jolts unpleasantly when he takes her hand and spins her around, but she retains her expression, making sure he sees her grab her beer and leave the room.

Jimin finds her soon enough, less than five minutes later. Sooah is on the steps of the balcony to the front yard, observing the handful of smokers and lone party-goers getting a breath of fresh air. With a fresh gin and tonic in one hand, she feels the cool breeze through her hair, interrupted by a light, fruity scent that makes her stomach flip.

“I hate you.”

Eyes closed, Sooah laughs. She feels Jimin take a seat next to her and opens her eyes to see him scowling. “Whatever do you mean, Park Jimin?”

“She was the worst dancer I have ever seen,” he blurts out, looking truly hassled. “Like… I don’t even know if I can call that dancing. She knocked into two people and it was like she was trying to stay off beat.” He shakes his head. “And you knew, didn’t you?”

Sooah laughs again, and despite himself, Jimin’s heart skips a beat. “That’s the good thing about me. At least I know I’m a terrible dancer.”

“You could’ve warned me.”

“You wanted to dance,” she reminds him. “And I’ve never liked dancing all that much.”

“She stepped on my feet twice, Sooah.” He sticks out his foot, long and lean in tight black jeans, to show her his shiny black shoe. “These are new shoes. And expensive.”

She raises her eyebrows. “You bought yourself super expensive shoes and wore them to a house party? Where anyone could spill sticky liquor all over them?”

Jimin shrugs, looking a bit sullen. His pale jaw is bright against the dark sky. “I didn’t even buy them,” he says after a moment, sounding a bit defensive. “Taehyung bought them for me, for my birthday.”

Sooah nudges his shoulder playfully. “Oh. Then it’s alright.” She waits for him to acknowledge her reply, accepting the shrug he gives her. “How is Tae, by the way?”

He lets out a long sigh, looking up. “I don’t know, honestly.”

“Wait, what? You’re still close, aren’t you?”

“What? No, yeah, of course we are. He’s just…” Jimin gestures vaguely. “He’s trying to get this girl to date him and… I don’t know how it’s going, honestly.”

“Really?” Sooah frowns curiously. “Taehyung can’t get a girl to go out with him? That’s new.”

“He asked out Park Soyeon twice in senior year before he finally gave up.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. There’s a momentary pause before he scrambles to cover it up. “I don’t think that’s what’s going on here, though. She likes him, too, but she’s a foreigner and…” He sighs, suddenly tired. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of drama going on there.”

She nods thoughtfully as she leans backwards on her hands, her light blue denim jacket brushing against his leather one. Her cheeks are as full as ever, and Jimin is faced with an insane urge to pinch them. “It’s a good thing we never had any drama.”

He pauses before snorting. “No, no… never. No drama,” he adds, glad to see she’s grinning, too. He drops his gaze to the ground, acknowledging a bit gratefully that they’re able to joke about it. He nudges a tuft of grass with the toe of his shoe, trying not to close his eyes at the smell of her floral perfume. “Were you really mad that I left for Europe?”

Sooah stiffens. Her knuckles tighten on the step she’s sitting on, and she fixes her gaze on two guys across the yard, both peering into one phone. “No.”

“No?”

“It’s your job, Jimin.”

“I meant, without calling.”

She’s mildly surprised at how bold he’s being. “I wasn’t mad,” she says decidedly. Her light blue jeans look extraordinarily pale next to his black ones, their knees an inch away from each other. “I was surprised, that’s all.” She shrugs with a forced nonchalance she hopes he won’t spot. “I thought we were… I thought we were good.”

“We were,” he says automatically. When she doesn’t respond, he bites his lip. “Why didn’t you call me when you were in Busan? I didn’t hear from you for two whole weeks.”

Sooah’s stomach twists unpleasantly. “I wasn’t sure if I was meant to, you know?” she says in a small voice, shrugging. “We weren’t dating,” she reminds him.

Jimin nods slowly. “I thought you were back together with Daehyun,” he says after a moment, anticipating her reaction a moment before it comes.

“That would be difficult since we weren’t ever together.”

The silence that settles over them is a familiar one, thick with baggage and past misunderstandings. Jimin can almost predict the pattern of their conversation if they continue along this thread, which mistakes would be brought up and which passive aggressive comments would be made until one of them either snapped or walked away. Despite knowing, he feels an old, familiar panic grip his heart when he thinks about her walking away from him, another familiar sight.

A cool gust of wind blows then, making Sooah’s hair fly off her neck, revealing thin hoop earrings. Jimin runs a hand through his ruffled blond hair. “Why did you come out here?”

She shrugs, glad for the change in topic. “Thought it would help with the allergies.”

He frowns, suddenly aware that she hasn’t sneezed once since he joined her. “Looks like it worked.” He chances a look at her when she nods. “I thought because…” He trails off, not knowing if this is another line of conversation that could end badly.

“Because of Jia?”

To his relief, her eyes are twinkling and her lips are tilted up in half a smirk. He wants to see that smile again, the blinding one. “Yeah, because of Jia,” he says, a bit more confidently.

“Because she’s a bad dancer?”

“Is that the only reason you might have a problem with Jia?”

“Why would I have a problem with Jia at all?” She narrows her eyes playfully, and - Jimin swears he’s not imagining it - her gaze flickers momentarily to his mouth before meeting his eyes again.

“I don’t know.” Jimin plays along, tilting his head and licking his lips. “She did interrupt us.”

“I usually brace myself for interruptions when I’m with the famous Park Jimin. You do need to cater to your fans.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Weren’t you a fan?”

The biggest one, once. But Sooah doesn’t say it. This, too, is a familiar turn of conversation, and she’d rather not disturb it. “Probably not the same kind.” When Jimin can no longer hide the grin on his face, her heart skips a beat. “Where are you off to next?”

An abrupt change of subject. Right on cue. “Um… America, next month.”

“Concert?”

“No, just promotion. Austin, Texas,” he recites. “Supposed to be freezing, apparently.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find someone to keep you warm.” Sooah nudges his shoulder, and he rolls his eyes before turning to her. “Christ, Chim, it’s not my fault if your mind goes straight to the gutter.”

“So you don’t mind if I find someone to keep me warm?” Jimin asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not. Would you mind if I found someone to keep me warm here? Seoul gets pretty cold, too.”

Jimin bites his lip, feeling a flutter low in his abdomen. “I wouldn’t know about that. I run pretty hot myself.”

“Lies.” But Sooah finds she’d suddenly like to test that theory. “Speaking of… it’s getting pretty cold right now, don’t you think?” As if to prove her point, she pulls her thin jacket a bit tighter around her. The movement pushes her breasts together, a hint of cleavage visible over the clingy red top. For the first time, he notices her nipples, erect and pushing against her top, and he feels himself suddenly stir.

“Is it?” He swallows and straightens up, adjusting his jacket and pretending not to notice how her gaze lingers on his lean biceps as they flex. “I’m wearing a leather jacket.”

“And you run hot.”

“Exactly.” He pauses as he watches her bring her hair to the front of her shoulders, as if to keep her warm. The action sends a whiff of her shampoo, something similarly floral, straight to his nose and he bites his lip. “I have an extra hoodie in my car,” he says after a moment.

Sooah’s mouth twists to stop the automatic smile. Right on cue. “Yeah?” When Jimin nods and stands up, her heart skips a beat at how glorious he looks. It’s not purely admiring, though; there’s an old, painfully familiar uneasiness at it, at a twenty-one year old Jimin who’s suddenly aware of his own attractiveness, especially in relation to her.

“Sooah?”

It’s the one thing that’s remained constant through the years, through the teenage drama, the debut, the fame, the distance. He still says her name like she’s Kim Sooah, and for a moment he’s still the same Park Jimin. It’s always the quiet ones. She feels a sudden tightness in her throat and immediately stands up to cover it up, swallowing and fluffing out her hair.

“Lead the way,” she says, glad she sounds normal. Jimin’s eyes twinkle as they begin walking, hands safely in their pockets while their shoulders brush. Her stomach flutters again, a warmth forming low in her abdomen as they leave the party behind and reach the quieter area of the parking lot.

“Which one’s yours? Let me guess,” continues Sooah, turning and walking backwards, “the most expensive one?”

“Your words, not mine.” He stops in between four cars, all shiny and fairly fancy. “You really want to guess?”

She narrows her eyes. “Not the Ferrari,” she says right off the bat, pointing at the shiny red car to his left. “Too ostentatious, even for you.”

“I do like my subtlety,” he sighs, running a hand through his blond hair.

“Sure you do,” she murmurs, taking her time to look away from the sliver of hard muscle as his shirt rides up. When she looks back up at him, he meets her gaze with a smirk. “Not the Volvo.”

“No?”

“Nope. Not sexy enough.”

Jimin grins, watching her movements more openly now as she walks slowly over to one of the two remaining cars. Her walk is still the same, naturally confident. She saunters over to the wine red Audi and turns around to face him, leaning backwards against the hood. “Do I have another guess left?”

“Just one,” he tells her, taking a step forward.

Sooah finds herself pressing her legs together as he gets closer, the leather jacket proving once again to be her biggest weakness. “What if I get it wrong?”

Jimin pauses. “You’ve already narrowed it down to two.”

“So? There’s a fifty percent probability of me getting it wrong.”

“You know me better than that. I taught you better than that.”

Sooah bites her lip, trying not to react to his cologne as he gets even closer. From this distance, the material of his t-shirt looks so flimsy that she’s sure she can see his tattoo through it. She forces herself to focus. “Did you?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

“When I met you, you were the shy, sweet guy with the snapback who taught me calculus. Now you’re…” She trails off, making a show of looking at him up and down.

Jimin raises his eyebrows, open his arms with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, making her more certain than ever that he knows how it puts his lean torso on display. “Am I not sweet anymore?”

“You’re something,” she murmurs, tilting her head up to look at him as he gets even closer, less than a foot between them. “Definitely too famous to be hanging out with, say, an old high school flame. No?”

Taking a step closer, he halts, his eyes flickering momentarily as though with a past memory. “I haven’t changed that much.” Her lips are red, he observes, like a cherry, matching her top perfectly. Slightly lower, her nipples look hard as rock. “There’s about two hundred people in that house,” he reminds her, his voice low. “And I’m still here with you.”

Her heart begins to race at the sight of his lips, plush and pink as always. It’s always the quiet ones. “You’re just bored,” she states, but it doesn’t sound as confident as she intended.

“And you aren’t?”

“There’s two hundred people in that house, you know.”

Jimin bites his lip, not even trying to hide his grin as his gaze flickers to her mouth. It’s time. He leans down and tilts his head, slowly, so his lips barely brush her helix. “It’s been two years, Soaah,” he murmurs, her name sounding deliciously familiar on his tongue. He lowers his head slightly so his lips brush her earlobe now. “Bored is not the word I’d use.”

Sooah’s eyes flutter shut, goosebumps erupting on the back of her neck. There’s never been a situation more exciting yet familiar at the same time, especially when his last words sound only partly flirty. It can only go one of two ways now, depending on which she chooses. Tilting her head up slightly, she takes a deep breath. “Not the Mustang,” she murmurs finally.

She feels Jimin smile against her skin and his hand come up to her side, fingers brushing her stomach before his arm wraps around her waist. “Bingo,” he whispers, pressing a light, feathery kiss to her neck before bringing his lips straight to hers and kissing her.

He tastes like cranberry juice; her hands go straight up his torso, feeling the lean muscle for the first time in two years, before snaking it up to his face and hair. Blond suits him, she thinks absently as he pulls her closer, his soft lips feeling like velvet against hers. His hands go under her jacket now, feeling the curve of her waist down her hips before slipping his hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

Sooah gasps, pulling him closer by the lapels of his jacket. “You really haven’t changed that much,” she moans softly against his lips, loving how firm his hands feel on her arse.

“I told you,” he mutters, squeezing her once more before sliding one hand out of her pocket to bring it back up her side. Like an automatic reaction, his hand moves towards her chest and finally, finally brushes her nipple, making both of them moan in unison. “Fuck, Sooah,” he whines, “you still don’t believe in wearing a bra?”

“I haven’t changed that much either,” she whispers, moving her hands lower now, taking care to touch every inch of muscle she can before reaching his jeans to find what she’s really looking for.

Jimin pulls away when he feels her hands roam lightly down the front of his jeans. “Right here?”

“M-m.” She brings his head back down to kiss him with one hand, the other one brushing down his front, only momentarily teasing the restrained bulge, before feeling down his front pocket. Reaching for what she needs, she grins and breaks away. “Just wanted to see if I was right,” she says, pressing the button on the car key and biting her lip when the Audi beeps.

“I told you you were,” he sighs, but still backing her up the side of the car and reaching behind her to open the door to the back seat. He kisses her again before she backs into the car and shimmies up the seat, taking off her jacket. Jimin follows just behind to take off his own and push her down gently, lowering himself onto her and kissing her deeply.

She tugs his t-shirt off, sighing shakily when she finally sees everything she’d been imagining. “You’re so hot, Park Jimin,” she murmurs, reaching up to press a wet kiss to his collarbone before sucking on the same spot, her fingernails raking down his body.

Jimin groans audibly, at the sensation and at her words, his hair falling into his eyes as he lowers his head. Sooah’s hands reach for his belt and unbuckle it, and he follows suit as he unbuttons his jeans and undoes his zipper, freeing his erection slightly.

“Better?”

He can hear the smirk in her voice against his neck, feeling her press a kiss to the surely reddening spot. “Much,” he mutters, pushing her back down again and swallowing her chuckle in a kiss. He rolls his hips into hers, helping her spread her legs along the seat. Slowly, teasingly, he touches his tongue to her lips, running them along the side, tasting the light gin and tonic she’d been drinking along with something smoky. It’s addictive, whatever it is, and he can’t get enough of it.

Sooah pulls him lower by the waist as she kisses him back, loving how his body feels against hers. He always did have the most beautiful body, diet or no diet, especially because he knew how to use it, how to mould it against hers so she felt him, his skin, his feel everywhere. Even now, as he’s covering her completely, his biceps taut as he runs a hand up her sternum and lightly squeezes her breast, she still wants more.

“Chim,” she whispers, the old familiar nickname feeling natural on her tongue, biting her lip when he trails his lips down her jaw. She tilts her head back automatically, giving him access to her neck, her knee bending automatically.

“Yeah?” he asks, lips lightly biting at the strap of her tank top.

“Chim,” she repeats softly, running a hand through his thick hair, “suck my tits.”

Right on fucking cue. Jimin makes a sound against her skin that’s something between a groan and whine at her soft command, immediately pulling away slightly to push her top up her torso. Sooah watches his expression as he slows down, carefully peeling the top over her breasts like he’s unwrapping a present. Against her crotch, she feels his erection twitch.

“No bra,” he breathes, eyes flickering up to hers. “I was right.”

“I told you you were.” Her eyes flutter shut when he kisses her left nipple, first lightly, then a bit more passionately. She tugs at his hair and he takes the hint, wrapping his lips around it and sucking it. “Fuck,” she whispers, her back arching off the beige leather seat. His other hand moves down her bare waist to stop at the button of her jeans. Pausing to see if she’ll stop him, he unbuttons it expertly with one hand and unzips it before sliding his hand down to feel her warm, wet core.

“Yes,” she whispers, reaching up with her hand for her other breast and squeezing it, bringing the nipple between her fingers. “Chim, do you have a condom?”

Jimin lets her nipple fall out of his mouth before nodding, his hair brushing against her breast. “It’s in the glove compartment…” Grunting softly as he climbs off her, he leans over the gear shift and clicks it open, rummaging in its contents in the dark. In the meantime, Sooah tears her eyes away from how tight his thighs and hips look in his jeans and takes off her own along with her underwear, and tugs her top back down as Jimin returns.

He shakes the square plastic packet and rips it open before pausing and looking down at her. “Are you sure you -”

“Yes.” She pulls him down to kiss him again, easing him back on top of her and between her legs, moaning into his mouth when he feels the cloth of his underwear against her clit. “Fuck, yes…”

Jimin lets her tug his jeans below his hips, her hands running over his tight backside before she slips two fingers behind the elastic of his boxer briefs. “Are you sure?” she asks, feeling his hard abdomen against her knuckles and feeling breathless.

He nods wordlessly and answers her with a kiss, more tender than the previous ones, a memory surfacing despite everything, of her asking him the same question years and years ago, the day he’d lost his virginity to her. Jimin slips his boxer briefs down, erection finally free, both of them groaning as his tip brushes her mound.

Sooah reaches between them to gently grasp him, smiling slightly when he gasps into her mouth. “Put it on, Jimin,” she whispers, feeling full and ready for him. He nods, pulling away slightly to slip on the condom and lining himself up at her entrance, glancing up at her once more and feeling his heart stop momentarily.

When she smiles slightly, almost shyly, he forgets what he was thinking and lowers his head to kiss her again, entering her slowly. Both of them groan softly in unison, and Jimin drops his head in the crook of her neck, pushing in further, feeling himself fully encased inside her. Sooah’s hands rake down his back, short fingernails scraping his skin sensually until they reach his hips. Taking the hint, he rolls his hips into hers, harder this time.

“Fuck, like that…” Sooah’s back arches again as he continues moving, his rhythm so delicious and teasing that she knows already that she won’t last too long. Besides, it’s just been so long. She wraps the leg on the outside of the seat around his waist, pulling him to her, wanting to feel him fill her up.

Jimin grunts softly, continuing to increase his speed. With one hand, he reaches for her top and pulls it down, allowing her breasts to be free and pushed up over the hem. She whimpers his name when he sucks at her nipple again, a bit rougher this time as he keeps thrusting into her. The car is filled with sounds of their kisses, gasps and thrusts, just them and no one else in the dark.

“I’m close…” Sooah’s voice is soft and high-pitched now as she feels herself approach her climax, clutching his hard shoulder as she finally comes undone. She feels him slow down as her orgasm washes over her, the pleasurable explosions following the major one. When she finally opens her eyes and locks eyes with him, she smiles in bliss and Jimin is blinded.

Angelic, smirking and wondrous all at once, his thick blond hair falling into his eyes, Park Jimin kisses her as he begins moving again. His movements are so smooth and so sensual that as he picks up his pace, faster this time as he chases his own orgasm, Sooah begins feeling a sensation low in her abdomen again.

“Fuck, Sooah…” Jimin whines, eyes screwed shut as his mouth falls open, his plush lips looking biteable and kissable in the dark. She kisses his jaw, his neck, his collarbone as he thrusts faster, his whimpers in line with the growing heat in her own core.

“Yes, yes…” She speaks without realising and notices Jimin’s eyes widen as he realises what’s happening.

“Are you -”

“Yeah - faster, Chim…” The moment she says his name, Jimin’s thrusts hard before groaning. His head falls onto her shoulder but he keeps himself up on his forearms. He’s still inside her, though, and without thinking, she moves her hips upwards into his. On top of her, Jimin stiffens.

“Are you close, baby?” When she whimpers in the affirmative, he moans in satisfaction, straightening up and pulling out. “Shh, don’t worry,” he murmurs, replacing his cock with his fingers, inserting two fingers deep inside her, feeling her walls clench around him.

Sooah nods frantically, aware of how he’s watching her now with full attention, putting one more finger in as he pumps them in and out of her. “Yes, fuck…” It’s as though the first orgasm wasn’t enough, for the feel of his fingers and the sight of him so proud at the effect he’s having on her is enough to push her over the edge again.

“Oh, fuck!”

She feels the explosion harder than before, shuddering underneath him before she realises what’s happened. Looking down at the mess she’s just made, the droplets falling off his beautiful leather seats, she winces. “Oh, fuck,” she mutters, heart still racing. “I’m sorry, Chim…”

But Jimin shakes his head even as he avoids the liquid, retrieving his fingers gently. “Please don’t apologise for that,” he murmurs cheekily, leaning over to press another kiss to her mouth. “It’s okay, I have tissues…” He reaches over for the tissue box behind the gear shift and hands it to her, watching her fix her top before pulling out a handful as he takes off his condom and ties it up.

“It’s, um, been a while since that’s happened,” she speaks up after a moment, sounding uncharacteristically anxious. “Are you giving your car for servicing any time soon?”

Jimin chuckles as he buckles his belt, reaching for his t-shirt over the back of the seat. When he looks up to see her expression, he immediately shakes his head. “Sooah… don’t worry about it. Yes, I will be, actually,” he adds after a moment, noting how she nods and looks away.

“Okay. Cool.” Swinging her legs over the front of the seat, she rummages around for her underwear and jeans, silently pulling them on. Her hair swings over her shoulder, blocking Jimin from view until she sweeps it back over her neck to smoothen it.

“Should we…”

“Yeah.”

They climb out of opposite doors, jackets in their hands, emerging around the front of the car, tissues awkwardly bunched in their hands when Jimin pats the front of his jeans. “What did you do with the key?”

“Um -” Sooah frowns and turns back to the car. “I may have dropped it… somewhere.”

Jimin sighs and begins walking back to open the door. “Seriously, Sooah…”

“Hey, I was too busy with something else to pay attention to where I dropped your keys,” she says, only mildly defensive, as she opens the passenger door to search under the seat. She hears Jimin chuckle despite himself as he rummages around at the back, and looks near the gear shift before her eyes trail over the glove compartment. The availability of the condom now seems awfully convenient, as does his apparent plan to give his car for servicing, all seemingly unrelated to their recent tryst.

“Found it!” Jimin’s voice shakes her out of her uneasy train of thought. “It was between the seats,” he declares, climbing back out of the car and gesturing for her to follow suit. As they retrace their steps out, making a beeline for a trash can at the edge of the parking lot, Sooah watches him walk ahead of her, the confidence in his stride so familiarly sexy and attractive, and yet so different from the Park Jimin she’d discovered in high school.

They head into the house together after that, still walking beside each other but somehow a bit more intimate, now that the proverbial ice of this reunion has finally been broken. The party is in full swing now, many more people dancing, the living room far more crowded.

“Do you want a drink?” Jimin asks loudly, leaning down to speak in her ear and touching the small of her back.

“Yeah. Cranberry juice and vodka for you?” She raises her eyebrows playfully, pulling him by the wrist towards the drinks table as he grins.

“It’s my favourite,” he tells her mock-defensively, following her and grabbing a bottle of gin the same time as she reaches for the carton of cranberry juice. They mix each other’s drinks and hand it to each other, Sooah raising her eyebrows in approval as she peers into her glass, and they knock their glasses together.

“Doesn’t look bad,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. She gives him a look when Jimin takes a sip of his and gags dramatically.

“Wish I could say the same,” he sputters, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “This is just vodka and barely any juice.”

“I did the best I could,” she says, shrugging easily.

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow as the song changes to a popular one, and a roar of cheers emanates from the dance floor. “Trying to get me drunk? Want to take advantage of me, Kim Sooah?”

“I think we took enough advantage of each other, Park Jimin,” she replies, moving a bit closer to him, “and this isn’t high school anymore.”

Jimin bites his lip, the back of his neck tingling. In a bold move, he brushes her hair away from her neck and peels her jacket away from her skin. "Some things are still like high school," he reminds her, smirking when her cheeks flush.

Sooah licks her lips, the memory of her hickey on display as she entered their history class burning in her mind. "Jimin, I think I should let you know -"

At that moment, his eyes snap up to see something behind her, face breaking out into a grin. "Sungwoon!" he shouts over the music, waving hugely.

Sooah turns around as well to see the familiar face of Ha Sungwoon and his friend, her stomach sinking as though in slow motion. As both guys approach, Jimin grins and hugs Sungwoon, who then seems to notice her.

"This is Sooah," he says, “my… we know each other from high school. What the hell took you so long?" he adds quickly, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

"My friend got a flat tyre and - oh, we know each other, by the -" Sungwoon starts to say, pointing to Sooah, but then Jimin spots Sungwoon’s friend and waves to him, shaking his hand.

"We've been waiting for you," he tells him cheerfully. "This is -"

"Oh, Sooah, thank god."

There's a momentary pause where Jimin frowns curiously. The friend doesn't seem to notice, though. "Sorry we’re late, though. I'm Hyunjun, by the way,” he says, putting an arm around Sooah’s shoulders. “Thanks for keeping my date company.”

The song changes again, and in a hideous coincidence, the voice that comes out of the speaker is Jimin’s, sounding like he has the burdens of the world on his shoulders. Sooah freezes before looking up at him, already expecting the worst. He’s still staring at Hyunjun, and she sees his mouth move in the words “What did you say?” but with no sound, or so softly that it can’t be heard over the music.

“Yeah, they interned at an event planning company last year. We met at Jiwon’s party, right?” Sungwoon asks, apparently noticing nothing as well, pointing to Sooah curiously.

She only nods, though, eyes still on Jimin. His jaw is sharper than ever and there’s a way in which he purses his lips that reminds her of just what his temper can be.

“You know, I think I just spotted someone, just before you came,” he says abruptly, turning to Sungwoon. “I think she was hitting on me earlier. Think I’ll go make sure.” Without waiting for a response, he downs the rest of his drink in one go, nods at his friend and starts to walk away.

Sooah sighs. “Jimin -”

But he simply sweeps past her as though he hasn’t heard her. He forces his way through the crowd, the music thumping in his bones, the alcohol swimming in his brain, and his chest feeling like there’s someone sitting on it. The crowd suddenly goes “Fake love!” along with the music and he winces; his only goal is to find Jia, the cute girl who was discussing anime with him earlier in the evening before everything went to shit.

But he can’t quite conjure up her face in his mind. Short hair, blond, most likely… she was wearing pink or purple, or it could’ve been blue… he can remember a locket of some kind, with a thin black choker over a cherry red tank top, nipples erect in the cold…

“Excuse me!” Someone bumps into him and Jimin finds himself in the kitchen, somehow next to the refrigerator. Throwing the door open, he picks out a beer, bites the bottle cap off and takes a long swig, welcoming the stinging cold after the disgusting vodka. He backs up towards the pantry; the kitchen is much emptier than before, the downside of which soon becomes apparent.

“Jimin!”

“Go back to your date,” he says flatly, without even turning around. He doesn’t expect her to listen, however; in a typical move, she grabs his arm and forces him to look at her, panting slightly like she’s hurried through the party to find him.

“Just listen to -”

“I don’t care, Sooah. It was just a quick fuck, it didn’t mean anything.”

She scoffs, her eyebrows turning down in a scowl. “Yeah, I’m not surprised,” she says, and Jimin struggles to locate the sarcasm in her words. “Listen, I didn’t do anything wrong, okay? We’re not dating.”

“So you fucked me while you’re with someone else?” Jimin chuckles without humour. “Classy as ever, Sooah.”

Sooah is silent for a moment, as though reconsidering her next words. “Yeah, except it’s no different than three years ago, when you got a blowjob from that dolled-up idol at Jungkook’s birthday party,” she spits, the words tumbling out as though she’s been bottling them up since. “And you explicitly said we were nothing. And you wonder why I didn’t call you when I went to Busan the next year?”

“That’s different,” he says dismissively, his cheeks burning - but from the alcohol or her words, he’s unsure.

“Oh, please. You didn’t even tell me about it. If Jungkook hadn’t opened his big mouth and let it slip, I would never have known.”

“Why the fuck did you even care?” Jimin snaps suddenly. “You were with Daehyun at the time, if I remember correctly.”

“Fucking hell, Jimin. Not this again. You know we never dated.”

“I know that’s what you told me.”

“You saw us together in one coffee shop, one time. Four years ago,” she adds, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“So you’re telling me, through four whole years of high school, you never once -”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. And I think you’d remember since for nearly two of those years, I was dating you.”

“Oh, thank you, Kim Sooah, for noticing someone outside your popular little bubble,” he says sarcastically, ignoring how her eyes widen. “I must have really scored when you decided I was worthy of your attention.”

“God, I can’t -” She breaks off, apparently speechless. “Tell me, Jimin. When did I “score”, huh?” she asks, putting air quotes around the word. “Was it a couple of years later, when you debuted and became famous and decided your plain old - oh, what was the word you used? It was something -”

“Sooah -”

“Oh, right! When your “normal person pretty” girlfriend wouldn’t cut it anymore?” She looks livid now, and somewhere in the back of his swimming mind, he finds himself disappointed that it took them less than a night to dissolve into an argument again. “I must have really scored when you decided to drop me that carefully worded break-up text.”

Jimin exhales through his nose, his heart thudding. “I never said that, Sooah. That’s not how I meant it, at least. And that was five years ago! How are you still holding onto that?”

“How are you still holding onto Daehyun? That was an even longer time ago and nothing even happened!”

“You really were just bored, weren’t you?” he asks, ignoring her and shaking his head. “Just whiling away time with me in the back of my car until your date got here?”

Sooah scoffs again. “Maybe I was. And it was only somewhat worth my time,” she adds snarkily.

“Really? My car seat would say otherwise,” he replies, tilting his head, presumably in the direction of the parking lot. He takes a step towards her, his gaze involuntarily flickering down to her chest. “I made you cum twice, Sooah. Can your date do that?”

Her cheeks flush, only partly out of embarrassment. “Guess we’ll find out,” she murmurs, taking a step back and exiting the kitchen.

Jimin watches her leave, feeling a myriad of emotions that only Kim Sooah is capable of inspiring in him. When they’d been in his car, just before he’d entered her, there had been a moment, just a moment where he’d felt like he was watching them from a third person’s point of view.

Seventeen year old Jimin wouldn’t have believed it, that Kim Sooah would be here, underneath him, resplendent in red as she gazed up at him, longed for him. The way she looked at him, though… it tugged at his heart how familiar it was, despite everything else that had changed - or hadn’t changed.

But then her date arrived, whatever his name was. Jimin can only describe the feeling as akin to feeling a door close somewhere, one he wasn’t even aware was open. The door turns see-through, a vision of Sooah on the other side, surrounded by all the people in her life that he doesn’t know because he’s no longer in it. Suddenly, he feels incredibly stupid for not considering that she might be with someone, that he would be the first person she would see. It’s always the quiet ones.

“Fuck that,” he mutters angrily, slamming the half-empty beer bottle on the kitchen counter and striding out, determined to find Jia. The crowd seems to have multiplied by the time he reaches the living room again, an Epik High song making everyone dance, whether or not they mean to. He moves automatically to the beat, unable to spot Jia anywhere - or unable to identify her, in any case. Another girl smiles at him, however, a taller one with a face like Tiffany Hwang’s, with blue dye at the end of her hair. She’s holding a plastic cup with dark liquid inside it, and Jimin makes a beeline for her.

You know I’m a shit dancer.

This one’s not, though, Jimin decides. Yujin, her name is, or something similar - the music is too loud to tell for certain. But she’s a good dancer, even in heels, tugging at his jacket just the right amount to be flirty, swaying her hips just enough to be teasing. He doesn’t know how long he’s on the floor with her; she doesn’t seem to be getting tired and whoever is in charge of the music is doing their job right. It’s been a long time since he’s danced with a girl this good, he thinks absently. It’s an English song playing now, some rap song, but he can’t think for the life of him who it’s by.

“Hobi hyung would know,” he says, sure of it.

“What?”

Jimin shakes his head. “You’re a good dancer,” he tells her, speaking louder over the music.

She grins. “So are you,” she says, looking up at him in a way that makes it clear that she recognises him. “Think you can give me a few more tips later?”

He grins back, suddenly spotting red behind her, and his heart skips a beat. “Maybe later,” he says absently, realising only now that he’d been looking for her at all. She’s still standing with Sungwoon and that idiot date of hers, and they’ve been joined by the two people he’d met earlier, Jihoon and Jasmine. The latter is standing with her back to Jimin; he watches Sooah, begrudgingly transfixed, as she nods at something Jasmine is saying. He can’t fathom what they might be talking about, just that Sooah looks mildly amused as she swings her glass lightly by her wrist. Then, suddenly and without warning, she grins and Jimin is blinded.

His stomach jolts when her date turns at the sound of her laugh and takes her hand. To Jimin’s immense irritation, he smiles and says something before walking towards the dance floor. Sooah shakes her head and pulls her hand back, immediately and clearly declining. Her date visibly insists, bopping on the spot and looking ridiculous in a transparent attempt to get her to dance, possibly reasoning that he’s just as bad as she is.

She continues declining, though, until the date finally gives up, looking a bit put off. Jimin’s stomach settles, not twisting anymore but not fully comfortable either. Her date would never know, he decides in a strange combination of pride and sadness. He would never fully know Sooah. Not like I used to.

He untangles himself from Yujin, suddenly tired, and heads back outside to the same steps they were sitting at. A low, weary voice at the back of his head sighs. Any minute now.

But five minutes pass and he’s still sitting by himself, arms folded on his knees, chin resting on his forearms. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but he supposes he has no right to refuse it, just like he has no right to be angry with her for her omission of detail. Jimin closes his eyes, wondering for the first time in hours just what he’s doing at this stupid party.

“Could you be more dramatic?”

Jimin stops himself from turning even as his stomach leaps. “Are you following me or something?”

“You wish.” When he doesn’t respond, Sooah speaks again. “My allergies started acting up inside again,” she says. From the corner of his eye, he sees her move to stand next to wear he’s sitting, but she doesn’t join him on the steps. Her light blue denim clad legs stand beside him, and he remembers for a split second how they were wrapped around his waist an hour ago.

“We’re leaving,” she says, pausing abruptly. He’s guessing she’s cringing - because he certainly is - but he no longer has the energy to comment on it. “Just wanted to say bye.”

“Bye, then.”

She doesn’t move, though, and he’s determined not to look up at her. He wonders, vaguely, who’s going to text whom first this time after tonight, and he decides it’s not going to be him. Not a chance.

“For god’s sake, Jimin,” she mutters in a low voice, and he can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “I’m not dating Hyunjun, alright?”

The night feels a degree warmer than it was a moment ago. He swallows. “What, so he was lying?”

“No. He…” She sighs, sounding just as tired as him. “There was a bet among a few of us about the hockey match last weekend and… long story short, I lost it. To Hyunjun.” She pauses. “I’m not dating him… or anyone else.” As she finally walks away, she adds one last detail - and this time she’s definitely rolling her eyes. “Not even Daehyun.”

Just like that, the door cracks open again.

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

Tagging: @kflixnet @k-radio @ggukkieland @bbl32

#jimin x oc #jimin fanfiction #btswritingcafe #ficscafe #kpopsociety #thebtswritersclub #btsgoldnet #bangtanbathhouse #jimin smut #btsbingo2022 #btsdreamcourtbangtaninn #bangtanwritershq #bangtaninn #ksmutckub #52hertz

199 notes · View notes

joheunsaram · 3 years ago

Text

platonically horny (ksj)

check out the platonic collection masterlist

Summary- Who knew doing a simple online quiz with your best friend would lead to the best sex of your life?

word count - 6.9k 🥴

pairing- bff!Seokjin x Reader

rating- R

genre- smut, fluff, pwp, bff2bfwb

warnings- as always brattamer!seokjin, brat!reader, spanking, squirting, pussy slapping, face slapping, rough, messy sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), edging, overstimulation, light breathplay, hickeys, masturbation (m), protected sex, aftercare, both reader and seokjin just wanna have fun, seokjin is really bad at jokes, mentions of jungkook throwing a rave for absolutely no reason 🥴

a.n- this is what happens when im procrastinating my series at 3am and seokjin finally lets his chest out lol. also ngl this was born from all the love you guys have shown this couple. im so happy you love them as much as i do! also lol i know the title is terrible don’t sue me. HAHAHA.

A big warm thank you to @eatjeanjin for beta reading 💕 to @hobiandspritefor hyping me up and to @ressjeon for starring as jk’s gf once again

This is my submission for @bangtansorciere writing game to the lighthouse hosted by @inkedtae AU Type: High Seas (uni/college), Theme: Slice of Life, Kinks: spanking, squirting, pain kink, size kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, cum play, masturbation

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

You giggled as you entered your apartment with Seokjin in tow. He rushed you in as he heard your next door neighbour unlock his door. You hated Mr. Yun, he was always creeping around, trying to find gossip.

“Hurry up!” Seokjin exclaimed, pushing you and inadvertently tripping you inside the door. With the amount of alcohol running through both of your veins, Seokjin followed suit, barely shutting the door before collapsing on top of you. The two of you groaned, promptly bursting out into cackles. His loud squeaky laugh was echoing through your little foyer.

Seokjin rolled off you, helping you up after he stood. As tradition, you made your way to the kitchen. You pulled a pot from the cabinet, pouring in some water from the sink and placing it on the stove. Seokjin, meanwhile, grabbed two packs of spicy ramen, ripping them open for easy access. He poured some water for the two of you as you waited for the water to start boiling.

“That was so fun!” You gushed, jumping onto the kitchen counter that was next to the stove, swinging your legs. “I can’t believe Jungkook managed to book a jumping castle!”

“You know him. When the man says he wants a rave, he gets a rave!” Seokjin laughed, placing the noodles into the water that was now boiling enough.

“I still can’t believe people dressed up for that,” you said, thinking back to the partygoers dressed in various neon and glow in the dark skimpy outfits. You’re pretty sure Jimin had just dyed some briefs into the electric blue he was donning. “I can’t believe Jungkook and Yannie wore matching harnesses!”

“Hey do not kink shame! If Jungkook wants to be taken along on a leash by his girlfriend, that is his prerogative!” Seokjin scolded, stirring the noodles, his serious demeanour making you snort.

“Ooo Seokjinnie! Are you secretly into pet play?” you joked, giggling at the way he scrunched his face at you. He grabbed a pot holder and placed the pot full of steaming ramen on the counter next to where you sat. Your chopsticks were already digging in the moment he settled the pot down.

“You’ll never know,” he replied with a wink, slurping his noodles, prompting you to do the same lest he inhaled the whole serving.

“Oh! You know what?” you asked, almost choking on the extra hot noodles before reaching for your phone. “Joon sent me this test the other day. Let’s do it!”

You excitedly pulled up the link, messaging it to Seokjin who pulled out his phone to skim his screen. His eyes widened and he started choking on the large bite he had just taken, coughing violently. You hopped off the counter to hand him a glass of water. He smiled in gratitude before taking a few swigs, finally calming down.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat before speaking. “A BDSM test? You wanna do a BDSM test?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “What’s the big deal Seokjinnie, you afraid I’ll find out you’re totally vanilla?”

“Have you met me?” he asked, incredulously. “I’m too hot to be vanilla,” he finished his sentence with a flair, as if it was the most ridiculous concept conceived. You laughed at his antics before getting back to your previous seat and clicking on the website.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!”

Easily convinced as always, Seokjin followed you, opening up the test. The two of you were quiet for the next ten minutes. The only noises heard were of the two of you still eating, and Mr. Yun’s loud coughing through the walls. You laughed as the results pulled up, unsurprised at the analysis.

“Okay, switch,” Seokjin said, easily taking your phone as you took his. “99% brat,” he snorted. “So fucking predictable.”

You blinked a few times looking at his results. 100% brat tamer, 100% rigger, 95% dominant, 84% sadist. You were shocked. You had known Seokjin for over nine years, and over that time you had had many conversations, about life, death, love, sex, but nothing could’ve prepared you for his results. You weren’t kidding earlier. With how many romantic comedies Seokjin watched, and how his ideal date was cooking a candlelit dinner, you couldn’t believe that you had to scroll to the bottom of the list to find vanilla - 22%.

“You were supposed to be honest!” you protested, holding up his phone.

“What do you mean? I was honest!” he proclaimed, perplexed.

“Please Seokjin. Brat tamer? Rigger? Sadist?!” you laughed, wiping an invisible tear from your eye. “You literally cried when we watched the video about that bird stealing nests!”

“That bird was so mean!” he whined, remembering the way the bigger bird had broken all the eggs to steal the canary’s nest. “And just because I’m in touch with my emotions, doesn’t mean I can’t be a good dom. In fact, I think that makes me a better dom,” he added proudly, cheeks puffing up with a pleased smile.

“Yeah sure, I believe you,” you snorted in response, rolling your eyes and reaching to grab your phone back. Seokjin pulled it away, narrowing his eyes at you. He couldn’t believe your audacity. For someone with a 95% submissive score, you sure didn’t act like it, but he supposed that's where the brat came in. He couldn’t lie, whenever you got this way he had an innate response to put you in your place. He couldn’t help it, you were always trying to rile him up with your impromptu roasts and ill-timed smacks to his shoulder. Perhaps now was the time to act on his secret fantasies.

“I can always prove it to you,” he threatened. His voice dropped to a lower octave as he moved between your legs, placing both hands on the counter next to you. He chuckled at the way your eyes widened, resembling Bambi caught in headlights. He also noticed the way you slightly leaned in, hands resting on your lap, making yourself a little smaller before you caught yourself, inflating your chest in bravado.

“Did you just lower your voice on purpose?” you asked with a smirk. You were hoping he couldn’t tell how your heart started beating faster at the proximity - how your face was slowly heating up.

“And you liked it, didn’t you, baby?” Seokjin said, maintaining the same deadly tone, as he lifted your chin, looking down his nose at you. You felt like you were running out of breath, your stomach coiling at his intense gaze. When did Seokjin get so hot?

When you didn’t answer, his thumb slowly moved upwards, lightly tracing your lip. He pulled it down, breaking eye contact for a quick second to watch himself pull your bottom lip lower, letting it go slowly so it made a little pop. Seokjin felt himself harden a little at the slightly glazed look in your eyes, smirking smugly.

“I asked you a question,” he said, eyes searching yours. He moved his other hand to your thigh rubbing it up and down over the black leather skirt you were wearing, the barrier making you feel but a ghost of his touch. “Be a good girl, and answer for me, will you?”

You felt your mouth grow dry, thighs clamping shut in reflex to the way your pussy clenched around nothing at his words. “Yes,” you answered, a shiver going through you because of the prideful look on his face. His hand that was on your chin traced down your body, caressing your shoulder and arms, his thumb barely scraping the side of your chest before it met your thigh. He moved both his hands over your legs, squeezing at the flesh slightly as he leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours.

“Good job, baby,” he whispered, a little whine escaping your throat at the praise. He squeezed your thighs again, a lot firmer than before, and you felt electricity zap through you. And then he was moving away, picking up the empty ramen pot and putting it in the sink as he usually did.

“Oh man did you see Namjoon’s weird ‘tribal’ paint thing? I swear he’s going to get cancelled for that shit, no matter how many times he insists that he did his research,” Seokjin commented casually while sipping his water, as if he hadn’t just ruined your panties with a few gentle touches and some choice words. He was giving you whiplash. You had been best friends with Seokjin for years but you had never wanted to jump his bones. That is, till now.

He giggled at your shocked expression, covering his mouth with his hand while his large shoulders shaking in glee. The oddly cute manner broke you out of your daze, as you scowled at him. He had the audacity to send you a flying kiss.

“That was so fucking rude,” you said, crossing your arms, eyes narrowed at your best friend.

“Don’t doubt me next time then,” he shrugged, before leaning close to you again. “Because next time I might punish you for it,” he added, lightly tapping your cheek with a grin.

“Stop making me horny!” you whined, smacking him on the shoulder. He winced at the action, frowning at you and rubbing the spot dramatically. He mimicked you, making his voice high pitched and nasal. You raised your hand to reprimand him again, but before you could reach him, his hand was around your wrist, stopping all movement.

“Then stop being a fucking brat,” he answered simply. Seokjin couldn’t help egging you on - you were infuriating, and absolutely sexy while being so. You were one of his closest friends. The two of you were so comfortable that he was sure that even if the two of you did fuck your brains out, it wouldn’t ruin anything. You’d probably high-five after and grab some breakfast at the diner as usual. You were such great friends that he was sure even the sex would feel platonic, playful.

“Why don’t you make me?” you asked, with a fake saccharine smile and a bat of your eyelashes.

“Don’t ask for things you can’t handle, Y/N,” he said, tightening his grip around your wrist. You had never seen this side of Seokjin, but you couldn’t complain. You hadn’t gotten laid in a year thanks to being busy with the first year of your PhD. You were tired of studying human sexuality in theory and ready to put it to practice. Sleeping with Seokjin didn’t seem like a big deal. You didn’t understand why books and television made sleeping with your friends such a big deal. You were there for each other through every emotion, from stress to happiness to sadness, why couldn’t horny be part of that list?

“Seems like you’re all talk,” you taunted with an exaggerated pout, cooing at him in an attempt to rile him up. An attempt that was successful as the words had barely left your mouth before he was yanking you from the wrist and draping you over his shoulder in one quick motion. You yelped at the action, a little disoriented with how your head was now upside down as he fireman-carried you to your bedroom.

With a roughness you didn’t think he possessed he dropped you on the bed, relishing the little grunt you made as you bounced on the surface. With hands running up your legs, he pushed them open and climbed on top of you until his nose was brushing yours. You could feel his weight pinning you down and it made you delirious. He chuckled at your flustered state.

“Traffic light system?” he asked, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. The kiss was not any different from the ones he gives you thrice a year - one on your birthday, one on his, and one on Christmas, a present usually preceding each interaction.

“Green for go, yellow for slow and red for stop,” you replied, kissing his cheek the same way he had kissed yours. He smiled at that, stroking your scalp in praise.

“Smart girl,” he whispered before finally placing his lips on yours.

Throughout your friendship, the two of you had competed over everything - who would do better in a test, who would finish a mile race first, who would get a higher rank in League of Legends. And every time Seokjin had beaten you, much to your dismay. So it didn’t surprise you that Seokjin kissed better than you too. He kissed with an ease that made your blood run warm, his plush lips sucking on yours, his tongue coaxing its way next to yours. He easily pulled needy whines from you, a hand cupping your breast as he kneaded it in a way that made you heady.

“You okay to go all the way? You sure?” Seokjin asked when he broke the kiss, breathing heavily, his lower lip resting against yours.

“All the way?” you snorted, your hand travelling to his ass before pinching it, watching him scowl. “What are you? Fifteen?”

“I’ll show you fifteen,” he grunted, lifting himself off you and abruptly pulling you up. You had barely registered sitting up before he had you on his lap, skirt pulled to your waist revealing your round bottom to him. He pulled at the waistband of your red panties, letting the elastic snap back against you in a satisfying ping. You faked a yawn at that, missing the way his jaw tightened at your antics.

Before you knew it, his palm was coming down on your ass, loud and hard. You hadn’t anticipated the force he would put behind the first spank. A sharp pain rushed through your behind, accelerating the endorphins flowing through you. You yelped at the impact, hands closing into fists around your bedsheets.

“Count. Count till you fucking learn your manners,” Seokjin demanded harshly, before landing another loud smack on your other cheek, painting it a matching red.

“Two!” you gritted out, you ass lifting in the air for some relief.

“Colour?” Seokjin asked, noticing the strain in your voice as he soothed the skin.

“Green,” you sighed out, preening at the soft touch.

“That’s my girl,” he commented, gleefully patting your butt. That was before he was landing another spank that took your breath away. He kept the same intensity throughout, making you soak your panties as your eyes watered. By the tenth time, you were panting and he took a little break to get rid of your panties, the obstruction no longer pleasing to his eye now that your ass was as red as the material.

“Five more, baby,” he said much too calmly in contrast to the hard dick pressing into your stomach. You squirmed in his lap, and he adjusted you closer to him, leaving his left forearm on your lower back to keep you still. He landed five more spanks, each one harder than the next, giving you no breaks. It felt as if your ass was on your fire, your heart pounding in your chest.

“F-fifteen,” you sputtered, tears now fully cascading down your face, leaving tracks of mascara and glitter eyeliner in their wake. He bent down, kissing your reddened cheeks, letting his tongue soothe you as you mewled.

Using the back of your shirt, he pulled you up, barely giving you time to catch your bearings before crashing his lips to yours, his tongue meeting yours with a hunger neither of you thought you possessed. You easily straddled him and climbed on his lap with your hands around his neck. You wanted to kiss him forever, chasing his lips when he moved away.

He clicked his tongue while looking down on his right palm that was now a bright red. Settling into his lap, your stomach somersaulted at the look of disappointment on his face. It was cold and unforgiving, and you felt yourself get wetter.

“You couldn’t be respectful. Now look what you did to my hand,” he scolded, showing you his reddened palm. The chill in his voice and the fire in his eyes made you melt, wanting to do anything to earn his praises again.

“Sorry, I’ll be good,” you whispered, holding his hand in both of yours and kissing it. You traced your lips over his fingers, leaving little pecks all over his palm, and he sighed in satisfaction, lightly scratching your scalp.

“Mhmm… about time,” Seokjin teased, warming your heart. You looked up at him with a wide smile, one that he matched. He cupped your face, thumbs wiping the mascara from your face, and he kissed you gently, a stark contrast to the earlier fervour. “Gonna keep being good?” he asked, grinning at how you eagerly nodded.

With that he lowered you on the bed, hovering over you as he rid you of your clothes, slowly peeling them off like you were a present he was eager to unwrap. You traced your hands over his arms as he leaned down to kiss you, causing a shiver to run up his spine. Fuck, you were beautiful and he couldn’t believe how compatible you were sexually. He supposed it made sense, the two of you were in tune with everything else so why not sex as well?

“So... any hard limits?” he asked, kissing down your jaw to your neck, nipping the skin deliciously. He sounded casual while you were having trouble putting together your scrambling thoughts. You moaned as he repeated his question, pulling your nipple in retaliation.

“Hmmm… I don’t know,” you said breathlessly as he continued kissing down your body, taking his time to turn you on. He was still dressed in the ridiculously large white hoodie he had decided to wear to Jungkook’s impromptu rave. “Watersports, scat, baby shit,” you moaned as his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, the pain ebbing deliciously into pleasure. “I hate blindfolds and latex,” you added.

He hummed against your thigh, his tongue moving to lick gently at your clit, the brief touch making you jerk your legs and arch your back. He chuckled at that, sitting up and running his hands up your legs. He used his thumbs to part your folds, enjoying the way they glistened, making his mouth water.

“So overstimulation, edging okay?” he asked while his fingers finally started to rub circles on your clit but were still moving much too slowly. You keened in response, nodding vigorously, and he smirked. You whined when he moved away, lying on his side next to you, hand propping up his head, while the other returned to your pussy. He leaned into you, nipping at your earlobe. “And what if I wanted to choke you? Slap that pretty face red?”

He punctuated the end of his question with two of his fingers diving straight into you, setting a fast pace right from the get go. You could hear the squelching noises of his palm slapping against your clit, adding to the inferno brewing inside you, and you couldn’t help your hands from holding on to his forearm. When he pulled his fingers out to land a hard slap on your clit, you realized you never answered his question. You mewled a “yes please” which earned you the privilege of his fingers yet again.

While you writhed next to him, eyes closed in pleasure, Seokjin pretended to be bored and was even yawning at times to annoy you. However, he was actually losing his mind. Before tonight, he had never really thought of you this way, barring a few pesky dreams, but now he didn’t know why he never did. Lying naked with your makeup ruined, agreeing to let him spank you and choke you, it was like Seokjin’s favourite porno came to life. He could feel you starting to tighten around his fingers, so he moved his free hand to your head, tilting it towards him, and sighing in disappointment when he saw your eyes squeeze shut.

“Look at me,” he commanded, pleased to see your watery eyes on him. He schooled his expression to a stern one. “You do not cum without my permission,” he warned. “Believe me when I say if you disobey me again, Y/N, you will not be able to sit for a week.”

His harsh tone set you on edge. With each stroke of his fingers, you felt yourself getting closer and closer. You were just on the precipice but regardless of your masochistic tendencies, those fifteen spanks had been hard and you didn’t want anymore. You wanted to be good.

“Please slow down,” you said in between pants. “Gonna cum if you don’t stop, please,” you whimpered and Seokjin rolled his eyes.

He removed his fingers, earning a needy whine from you as your orgasm faded - a whine that he muffled by shoving his fingers drenched in your arousal right into your mouth. His dick twitched at the way you sucked on his fingers, almost getting uncomfortably hard under his jeans.

Pulling his fingers out, he crashed his lips on yours. His tongue was eager to taste you while his mind was whirring with other ways to torture you. He really wished this wasn’t the only time because there were too many things he wanted to try with you, too many ways he wanted to ruin you. He broke the kiss staring at you hungrily. Wasting no more time, he stood up, tossing his sweater and jeans off.

Your mouth watered from watching Seokjin standing in just his tight boxer briefs. Sitting up, you trailed your hands down his abs - something you were surprised to find he’d been hiding.

Another reason why you were getting whiplash - Seokjin was always modest in the way he dressed. The last time you saw him without his shirt was when you went to the beach over a year ago. It seemed like he’s been working out, and you couldn’t help leaning over and tracing the ridges of his abdomen with your tongue, moving lower to where his light treasure trail led you to the tent in his black boxers.

Judging by his earlier control tendencies, you were surprised he was giving you free reign. You looked up at him, keeping eye contact as you pulled his boxers down. He raised an eyebrow, winking at you, before placing his hand gently in your hair, coaxing you to look down. If you were surprised by his hidden abs, nothing could’ve prepared you for his dick. It was larger than any you had seen. It seemed that tonight was a night of surprises.

You felt your mouth water at the sight of his erection, precum leaking generously. Without thinking any further, you were opening your mouth, ready to taste him. But the grip in your hair tightened, pulling you back till not even your outstretched tongue could reach him.

“Not so fast,” he said, his other hand stroking himself, just out of your reach. “You get to just watch.”

You whined in disappointment as he stroked himself, moving his large hand from base to tip slowly. He caressed the head, squeezing it. You could hear him moaning, but you couldn’t take your eyes off his dick. Was it weird that you found it beautiful? You could imagine the way it would stretch you and it made you squeeze your thighs together, aching for relief.

“Please, let me taste,” you begged, but Seokjin just chuckled, breathing out a “no”, but not before slapping you in the face with his cock. You closed your eyes at the feeling, relishing it.

Seokjin could feel his balls tightening, getting closer to release as he increased his speed. However, it was the pleased, almost ecstatic smile on your face when he slapped it with his dick yet again that put him over the edge. With a loud moan, he pulled your head back, ordering you to keep your mouth open as he came all over your face. He had initially planned to aim only in your mouth, but the sudden orgasm made him miss, staining your face and your chest. While he was coming down from his high, you swallowed his mess, enjoying the bitter salty taste.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Seokjin groaned, his hand collecting his cum from your face and depositing it in your mouth. You eagerly lapped it up, and he didn’t hesitate kissing you once again. His hand was rubbing the cum that landed on your chest into your skin. You moaned at the desperate movement of his lips, almost begging for him to do more, before he was breaking your kiss and flipping you around on all fours.

As soon as your hips were in the air, his lips were on your clit, sucking at the bundle of nerves with such vigour that you almost forgot how to breathe. He was like a man on a mission, his fingers fucking into you as his tongue flicked at your clit. You fisted the bedsheets, losing all semblance of reality as pleasure flowed through you, the coil in your stomach tightening at his actions.

“Please let me cum,” you whined. “Please Jinnie, please!”

You were howling at this point, your toes curling and legs shaking in an effort to hold back the orgasm barrelling towards you. You thought he was going to edge you again when his lips left your pussy, but they were only gone for a second as he gave you permission to cum before latching back on. With his expert lips and fast fingers, it took you barely a few seconds before you were cumming, face buried in the sheets, and body spasming under his hold.

He didn’t stop though, keeping the same unrelenting pace. You whined, tears escaping your eyes as you tried to move away from him. With a hard spank on your ass and an arm under your hips he brought you closer, refusing to let you escape.

He could feel you tightening around his fingers, clenching around him rhythmically, and by the way your hips started moving towards him instead of away, he knew you were close yet again.

“Cum,” he demanded, and that’s all it took for you to lose yourself to the pleasure again, and he moaned as a gush of liquid escaped you, staining the sheets and his face. He let you relax this time, kissing your bruised ass, and up your spine, till he was lying on top of you. Nuzzling into you, he held your hand, whispering praises, as you came down from your high.

“You’re mean,” you whined, turning your head towards him, and he kissed you with a little laugh.

“And you’re amazing,” he praised, finally rolling off you and onto the bed on his back. The two of you had matching smiles as your breathing normalized. He traced his fingers down your spine, eyes fixated on your ass that was still red from his earlier spanking. He couldn’t resist pressing his fingers in, watching as the skin lost colour at his touch only to bloom red again as he let go, and you moaned, back arching at the feel.

“Why haven’t we done this before?” you mused, turning onto your side and he pulled you closer, kissing you again as if magnetized. All these years you could’ve been having great sex with your best friend and you missed out all because of some stupid societal rule that fucking your friend would ruin your friendship - hell, you were sure this would nothing but strengthen it.

“Don’t know how you resisted me for so long, to be honest,” Seokjin joked, laughing at the deadpan expression you gave him. “You okay, though?”

“Not really,” you replied, a frown on your face, and Seokjin felt his heart drop with worry swimming his mind. The scores said you were a masochist, but perhaps he should’ve discussed everything before, talked through a scene like he had done with his previous partners. He was so swept up in the moment and the two of you knew each other so well that he didn’t think it through. He could feel the guilt rise through him the more he looked at your dishevelled state. Did he go too far?

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pulling you closer, hugging you against his chest, lust forgotten. You could feel his heart pounding and decided to drop the act.

“I’m not okay cause you haven’t fucked me yet,” you said with a smirk, laughing when you saw his shocked face as he pulled your head away from him to look at you once again.

“Are you fucking insane?” he yelled, eyes wide. “Do not fucking joke about that! I had a heart attack! I thought I hurt you or something! That is so irresponsible! I swear to god, Y/N, if you ever make me this worried again I’m gonna kill you! You have no idea how-”

You decided to end his rant with a press of your lips against his while climbing on top of him. Although he still had the lecture ready to go, he molded his lips with yours, letting his tongue taste you once again, and moaning when you started to grind your wet folds against his dick.

“You’re still hard though, so what does that really say about you?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him as you rested your head on your forearms crossed upon his chest, continuing to languidly roll your hips against him.

“You are such a fucking brat,” he huffed, hands firm on your waist. His breath hitched when you started kissing his neck, licking at the sensitive spot right above his Adam’s apple, your teeth digging in, leaving your mark. You continued your ministrations, licking and biting the skin till you reached his earlobe.

“And what are you gonna do about it, Seokjinnie?”

And that challenge was all it took to get Seokjin back into his headspace. Grunting at your sugary tone, he flipped you over so he was once again in charge. His large hand came to rest on your throat. Although he didn’t put any pressure, your heart kick-started, feeling a rush of fresh arousal going through you because of the menacing look in his eye. He leaned in, licking a stripe up your face, to lightly bite at the apple of your cheek.

“Gonna fuck you stupid, of course,” he said with a grin, lightly tapping your cheek. “Condoms?”

You had barely directed him to your top drawer when he was pulling out a foil package and rolling the rubber on to his dick. He made a show of it, of course, slowly stroking himself as you stared at him. Standing at the foot of the bed, he smiled sweetly, instructing you to open your legs and pin your knees to your chest. He didn’t do anything after, just watched how you dripped for him. If any other partner made you do such a thing, you would've felt self conscious, but with Seokjin you felt safe. The man had seen you at your literal worst, and presenting yourself to him like this felt oddly comfortable.

Getting impatient you huffed, looking for a reaction from him other than his wide eyes watching you while he bit his lip. You snaked a hand between your legs, gathering your arousal, and you started to rub your clit slowly, relishing the way his eyes started to narrow and lips curled into a firm line. You sighed, letting the slow pleasure move through your sensitive bud.

“Since you’re too busy staring, you can-”

The words had barely left your mouth when he was upon you, a hand gripping your hair and the other on your throat, his fingers pressing against your arteries in a way that made you a little hazy. The pressure was light but the intent was there, amplified by the way he glared at you.

“Stupid, stupid girl,” he sneered, his nostrils flaring in anger. “I thought I fucking told you to behave.”

He expected you to apologize, but when you giggled in response, it made him furious. Every instinct in his body wanted to punish you till you were sobbing on his dick. You could see him seething, and you knew that you should probably start behaving but you couldn’t help sticking your tongue out at him.

At his last straw, Seokjin pulled you back by your hair, tilting your head upwards to land a harsh slap on your face, making you whimper at the impact. You could feel tears pricking your eyes, but your attention was diverted by the sudden rush of endorphins making you delirious.

Seokjin stared at you, afraid he might have gone too far in his lust-driven haze. However, instead of calling for a safeword, or even reprimanding him, you laughed. Bubbles of laughter escaping your throat uncontrollably as you grinded on his thigh between your legs.

“More! More Jinnie! More,” you demanded, sounding a little unhinged and Seokjin couldn’t believe how every single time you just kept bringing his fantasies to life. He never thought he could ever get away with the deranged shit his brain taunted him with, but like always you seemed to be on the same page.

Shaking his head, he slapped you once again before he gripped your jaw, kissing you in a flurry of teeth and tongues as he lined himself up to your entrance. You followed his earlier instructions, holding your thighs as you spread yourself wider. You clenched as his tip entered you, his girth already starting to stretch you, but you didn’t care, you wanted him to impale you.

However, he had other plans. He teased you with shallow thrusts that had you mewling his name and begging for his cock. He started slowly, feeling the way your warm walls parted for his cock, as if they were made to take him, gripping him and making him lose his patience.

“Please… Please more,” you begged, eyes shut in pleasure that seemed to be building but going nowhere. “Please Jinnie… need you,” you hiccuped

“Fuck,” Seokjin grunted, feeling your walls flutter around him. “I got you, baby. Don’t worry,” he promised before starting to pick up the pace, his hips thrusting into you relentlessly.

His hands were on your tits, gripping the skin tight enough to bruise as he pounded into you, and you could feel the coil in your core tighten. You had never cum just from penetration before but the way his dick filled you up, hitting every part of you, made you lose yourself in him. You didn’t even know if you were begging for him to let you cum or if you were babbling incoherently. All you knew was that you needed him to give you permission so you could let yourself go, muscles tightened to their limit.

“Cum, baby. Cum all over my cock,” Seokjin gritted out, and you blanked, your mind floating to the heavens as you let go. You couldn’t hear anything other than the blood rushing through your ears, feeling as if you were underwater, pleasure coursing through your body in little tingles from your scalp to your toes. Pleasure that soon turned into pain as Seokjin refused to slow down, railing into you, the volume of your wails only second to the wet thrusts echoing through your room. You really hoped you were not going to get a noise complaint.

Seokjin seemed to be enjoying it, basking in your cries as he moaned at how you milked him, getting tighter with each push of his hips. He knew he was close to exploding, but he wanted to make you cum another time, and so with his thumb rubbing circles on your clit and his other hand travelling to your throat to block your air supply. He gave it his all.

“One more, Y/N. Be a good fucking girl for once and cum for me,” he demanded, and in your haze you couldn’t help but follow his command, your orgasm rushing through you faster than the last, making you spasm under his hold, your legs shaking as they stretched out with a jolt, your hands clutching onto his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin. He let go of your throat, and the sudden rush of oxygen only prolonged the orgasm, leaving you a sobbing mess.

“Good baby,” Seokjin said breathlessly, his own orgasm following quickly after, and he emptied himself in the condom, trying to quieten the primal part of his brain that demanded his cum inside you instead. He collapsed on to you, kissing up your chest to your face, where he wiped your tears clumsily, too sated and comfortable to want to pull out yet. You hugged him close, and the two of you laid there for a moment, trying to wrap your heads around the best orgasms the two of you had ever had.

With a groan and a pat to your head, Seokjin finally rolled off you, grunting like an old man as he stood to throw the condom away. You applauded him for his energy. Or more likely, you wanted to applaud him for his energy but in your boneless state just ended up lifting your hands a few inches above the bed and landing them back. Seokjin laughed at your attempt, lying back next to you to cuddle with you. He pulled you to his chest, letting you cling to him like a koala.

“Fuck dude, you’re wild,” you commented, earning a cackle from your best friend.

“I can’t believe you let me slap you,” Seokjin teased, his hand caressing your reddened cheek to soothe it.

“I can’t believe how good it felt!” you gushed, the two of you giggling. You had never felt so satisfied in your life. What a great way to break your dry spell! “What do you like for aftercare?” you asked, leaning up to kiss his nose as he slowly scratched your scalp.

“No one’s ever asked me that,” he said, his heart warming. He wondered why he hadn’t thought about that before. He supposed it was because he never felt comfortable enough with someone to go to this extent or to even warrant aftercare of his own. He squeezed you tighter around him in silent gratitude. “Hm… I don’t know… this is probably the most hardcore I’ve been if I’m being honest.”

“Me too,” you replied before standing up. Your limbs were still sore but strong enough to carry your weight now. He whined as you left, not wanting to let go of you, crossing his arms with a pout as you grabbed his sweater from the floor.

You left your room to clean yourself up and to grab a couple of water bottles and a handful of Hershey’s kisses. When you returned Seokjin was in his boxers, putting on new sheets on your bed.

“Here,” you said, handing him the bottle, before sitting back on your bed, wincing at the pain. Seokjin frowned, leaving quickly to grab the first aid kit from your bathroom. He urged for you to lie on your stomach while he gently applied the gel to your ass. Now that the adrenaline from earlier had dissipated, he felt bad for how hard he went.

You noticed how his hand slowed down, and turning to see the frown on his face and spaced out expression, only confirmed your speculation. “Eat this, you’re dropping,” you said, handing him the chocolates.

“I’m not dropping, I feel bad,” he argued, but followed your instructions anyway and decided not to remark on how good the sugary treat felt.

“Don’t feel bad, we’re both freaks,” you said as you sat up, sitting on your knees to ensure your medicated butt didn’t land on the sheets. Seokjin couldn’t help but laugh at your comment, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“So you had fun right?” Seokjin asked, still needing reassurance.

“The most fun,” you said enthusiastically. “Next time, let’s try the flogger I have!”

Seokjin blinked at you, telling himself it was too soon to go for round two, before engulfing you in a hug. “You really are amazing, you know that,” he gushed.

“Pleased to be your BFWB too!”

“BFWB?” Seokjin asked, confused. “Big fat weeb boobs?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the all too serious expression on his face. “Best friends with benefits, you weirdo. Seokjin, what the fuck are big fat weeb boobs?”

“You know, like anime titties. You kinda have them,” he said matter-of-factly, as if he didn’t just make up the acronym on the spot. You smacked his shoulder in mirth, lying against the fresh sheets and pulling him down with you to cuddle against him. He moved lower, nuzzling his face between your ‘kinda anime titties’ before sighing contently. That was until a thought came to his head.

“Oh shit this means I can just fuck you instead of listening to you complain about your thesis supervisor again,” he exclaimed, earning himself another smack on the head.

“Shut up! You love my complaints,” you answered with your eyes closed, already halfway asleep.

“I sure as hell don’t! No one wants to listen to how Dr. Bang asked you to revise your citations for the seven hundredth time,” he said while grinning and getting ready for another argument. Instead of all that, you just patted his head and ran your fingers through his hair in a way that made him sleepy and content.

“Sleep. It’s like 3am,” you muttered, and Seokjin rose to kiss your sternum before placing his head back on your chest and leaving for dreamland.

Who knew all he had to do to get the best sex of his life was do a stupid online test?

taglist: @bangtanhome , @kithtaehyung, @jimilter lter, @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @aroseforyoongi, @awhnamjoon, @codeinebelle

check out the platonic collection masterlist

I hope you enjoyed this! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

1K notes · View notes

kithtaehyung · 3 years ago

Note

also.... what are your favourite seokjin fics?

SEOKJIN FICS? DO I HEAR SOMEONE NEEDING A SEOKJIN FIX? ask and you shall receive, love.

before the list: i have a rec blog at @kithtaehyungreads that has a seokjin tag, but i am miles behind on updating everything that i’ve read before joining bts tumblr so i can also just put a list here under the cut, as well.

hi, everyone that’s not user fairyjinie. if you’ve made it past the cut, that means you’re also looking for seokjin fics and that makes you a fantastic human being because THIS MAN NEEDS A LOT MORE LOVE THAN HE’S RECEIVING.

anyways, here are some jin fics i absolutely enjoyed spanning... well, years lol. mind you, i have a terrible memory and may forget some. just keep a lookout on my seokjin tag and more will show up there eventually!

format: fic title (a, f, s) | another fic title | etc. by author

note: minors dni with any fics with s (smut) tags note 2: don’t forget to check out all the authors’ masterlists and send them some love in a reblog/ask if you enjoyed one of their fics!

éffleurer (series) (a, f, s) by @sugaurora

perfect (a, s) | creek hill apartments (a, f, s) | washing machine (s) | by @btssmutgalore

with you (a, f, s) by @yoonpobs

blurred lines (series) (s) | missed call (f) | fume (s) by @yoonia

ILL-fated (f, s) by @sketchguk

sugar (f, s) by @wwilloww

oh my gourd! (f) by @joonscypher

tips & teases (f, s) | unmasked (f, s) | pay attention (s) by @luffles424

feral (series ft. kth) (s) by @ilikemesometaetaes

office rendezvous (s) by @namluve

in the mood (f, s) by @kinktae

final sleigh (f, s) | crystallised (series ft. myg) (a, f, s) | small tuna fish (f, s) | glazed & dazed (s) by @floralseokjin

a dozen tulips. (f) by @writtenwhalien

exes and superher-o’s (two-shot) (s) | pride and fidget spinners (s) | refinery29 (series) (s) | golden boy (s) by @kpopfanfictrash

all along (a, s) by @underthejoon

sharing is caring (ft. pjm) (s) by @littlemisskookie

cherry topper (f, s) by @kimtaehyunq

opaline moon (a, f, s) by @missgeniality

beside you (sm au ft. pjm) (a, f, s) by @kimnjss

daddy dearest (series) (s) | babygirl (s) by @taesinferno

currents (a, f, s) by @yeoldontknow

platonic (series) (a, f, s) by @joheunsaram

good for me (s) | kiss it better (f, s) by @ppersonna

bass boosted (m) | guided (m) by @lavienjin

danger (two-shot) (s) | last christmas (c, s) by @xjoonchildx

untitled drabble (m) by @rmverse

warm this winter (a, f, s) by @jamaisjoons

‘twas the night before christmas: milk & christmas coockies (f, s) by @sugasbabiie

call me papi (s) by @jjksblackgf

i don’t think i’m okay (a, f, s) by @ressjeon

the IKEA test (f, s) by @yoon-bug

hmmm... i really do feel like i’m missing like, a lot. this is a crime. jinconceivable. ugh well, i hope this is enough to hold you over for now!

#fic recs #*ryenfictalk #bts fics #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #mailbox💌

502 notes · View notes

erotikkook · 3 years ago

Text

See You Later | PJM

Title: See You Later (Jimin x Reader)

Rating/Genre: R | slice-of-life!au | smut | heavy angst | slight fluff

Word Count: 5.3k

Synopsis: Sometimes things just aren't meant to be. And sometimes, you stick close because you know you can figure it out.

Warnings & Tags: heavy angst, my intention was to make you sob, so apologies in advance, cursing, sex scenes (times 3): fingering, breast play, soft lovemaking, riding, both protected & unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it everyone), jimin going commando lol, brief handjob, ass smacking, dirty talk, oral (male and female receiving), any dirty talk is based on shit i’ve said in similar situations… so i guess now the internet just knows LMFAO, we can semi-thank my ex-boyfriend for this fic, praise, jimin says baby excessively, slight dick fetish (?

A/N: For my lovely friend @jimilter, happy (very late) birthday, babe (also thank you for making the banner for your fic)<3 A big thanks to @bangtanintotheroom, @yoonieper, and @ressjeon for the help in reading (and the hype up)! Love you guys <3 and another thanks to @chemicalpink because your suggestions were top tier

Fic Song: here <3 (would recommend checking out for vibe purposes)

go back to masterlist <- there!

News of your promotion came five years into your employment, somewhere within the start of the first snowfall. It had been thrilling at first, eyes alight at the prospect of advancing your career beyond the austere simplicity of a managerial label. It hadn’t been until you’d found out of your demanded departure to an entirely different nation that you’d pulled back — hesitant to leave the metropolis that’s held so many memories.

With a promise to return your boss’s sentiments the following day, you had scurried off, arms held snugly against the sides of your torso. There was absolutely no doubt that you’d accept the offer — you’d been working hard to make your way up the corporate ladder since the moment you’d set foot behind company doors. Every moment of overtime, every meal you’d purchased in hopes of impressing an eclectic group of maddeningly pompous CEOs and directors — it had all been for the sake of your resolve.

Jimin hadn’t been a part of the plan. It had been an unexpected encounter, something you had thought you’d only ever have the pleasure of seeing within the young adult novels that you’d used to collect in the back of your wardrobe as a teenager. Nevertheless, it had been quite the flourish of emotions, each day as remarkable as the last. As if he were made for you in the same way you were made for him.

It hadn’t just been the allure of his voice or the smile that oftentimes etched its way onto his face at most uncomplicated things. You’d taken it to be an infatuation at first, whether it’d been the way he’d spoken or the beat of his heart that had drummed rhythmically against the shell of your ear as you sat together, your head leaning against his built chest, the sofa in his living room enveloping you. Looking back, you supposed you had simply been in denial, the complexities of adoration far too intricate for your mind to handle.

It wasn’t until your first night together that you’d been undoubtedly sure that the tightness in your chest was something equating to affection. It had been nothing short of a joyous moment, lips latching onto his as if you’d become possessed. Everything had been a blur — from the rough edges of his palms against your outer thigh to the whine that fell past your lips as he began to work the straps of your dress away from your shoulders.

He’d been gentle within those moments, hands moving as if to memorise every inch of skin. You’d been frantic for any sort of touch, hands shifting to shove his fingers against your clothed core. It’d taken every ounce of resilience on your part not to beg him to move faster — his sinewy frame pushing further into you, fingers circling your clothed wetness with deliberate strokes. It wasn’t until his free hand pressed itself behind you that you’d realised that you hadn’t even made it entirely through his front entrance, the door sagging open, shaking against the brisk wind.

Taking a moment to catch yourself despite your laughter, you’d slung your arms around the front of his shoulders, gripping onto him as if your life had depended on it — perhaps it had if the uncomfortable wet patch clinging to your soaked entrance was any sort of indication.

“I think we should move this to your room,” you had giggled against the shell of his ear, whimpering at the momentary loss of contact as the man in front of you slanted himself forward, fumbling with the lock to his flat.

Once he’d returned to your embrace, arms moving to wrap themselves against the base of your hips, he’d simply nodded, seemingly lost in a lust-filled haze as he carried your form away into the back parts of his home. You couldn’t quite recall the particulars of your fumblings that first night almost three years ago after nearly having to replace the entryway to his house — but you’d remembered the way he’d carried you to your now shared bedroom, pressing you firmly into the sheets of his king-sized bed. The way he’d tugged at your garments carelessly, flinging what he could onto the floor below.

It hadn’t been any surprise that his hands were as skilled as his mouth, thumb moving to rub against your sensitive clit, your heart thrumming against your chest the more he pushed the pads of his fingers against you. You’d mewled, clawing at the sheets as he’d gently slipped that first finger into the warmth of your heat. Pumping his digits faster into your folds, he’d added a second, gently prying you open, tilting himself forward to whisper gentle praises into the crown of your head. It had been nearly impossible to resist the allure of his lips, and you’d pulled him away from your scalp, pushing your mouth onto his, tongue pressing boldly to intertwine with his in a feverish passion. You’d stayed like that, mouths heatedly moving together, arms laced around his neck — as if you could’ve conceivably tugged him any closer.

His fingers plunged further into your core as he moved — mouth leaving a wet trail of love bites as he sucked at the dips of your shoulders — leaving your wanting lips behind. Much to your dismay, he paused, eyes burning dark as he took in your spent features, red blossoming at the apples of your cheeks and flushing along the underside of your shoulders, “Can I-” using his other hand to clasp the tops of your breast, his fingers gently splayed over them, as if you were far too delicate to touch, “-touch you?” You’d nodded, back arching as he took a breast into his palm — the fingers on his other hand once again shoving themselves firmly into your heat.

You hadn’t had sex in months, and despite your effort to help yourself along within the comfort of your own home, nothing seemed to appease the aching heat that ran its course along your body for the while after your last breakup. Now though — with Jimin’s fingers plunging into your cunt, thumb circling your clit in rapid motions, his other hand squeezing along your breasts, fingers tweaking your hardened nipples — any pent up desire you’d had, had been entirely forgotten, the tips of your fingers clawing against the base of his back.

“Fuck Jimin, please,” you couldn’t precisely remember the entirety of your plea, your words slurring into a mix of chaotic nothingness, a knot forming at the base of your abdomen.

“That’s it, baby,” his fingers abandoned your soft breasts, moving to thread them into your hair, pulling at your locks, “cum for me.” With the push of a third finger into your heat, thumb pressed tight against your engorged clit; you came, eyes falling shut. With a final pump, he slid his fingers out of your soaked heat, pressing a gentle kiss against the corner of your lips.

Still gasping from your release, you’d shoved a hand to his solidly built chest, using the last bit of your strength to force him down beneath your heavy gaze. With a gentle tug, you began to unbutton his slacks, hesitating when you noticed a dark wet patch across the front, “Fuck,” you’d groaned, bottom lip moving to rest between your teeth, “are you-”

Smirking, the man below you began to drag the material away from his abdomen and down his legs, pushing both himself and you upward as he shook the cloth off his feet. He hadn’t been wearing any underwear — his cock springing forward, leaking precome against the base of his stomach. His cock was larger than you could’ve anticipated, equally girthy as it was long, veins protruding along the sides to where the tip lay, coloured an angry red.

“Do you want to- Fucking shit.” He’d whimpered, head falling back as you brought your fingers to the base of his shaft, thumb pressing gently against his tip. Pumping his length gently, you had leaned forward, lips making contact with his muscled abdomen, a moan falling past your parted mouth at the feeling of his stiff muscles beneath your plush lips, pressing your teeth gently into the skin to leave behind marks. Soothing the newly made lovebites with the tip of your tongue, you moved your free hand to press into your sopping pussy, groaning at growing wetness between your aching thighs.

Before you could bring your thumb to rub against your throbbing cunt, Jimin pulled himself from your grasp, hands moving from their place clasped on his bedsheet. One hand hugging the globe of your ass, his other drew back to deliver smacks to your ass in quick succession — causing your figure to fall forward as you cried out. “Did I tell you that you could play with yourself like that, baby? Did I say you could touch yourself?” Growling, he pulled you forward, mouth biting against one of your nipples, the tip of his cock pressing into your stomach.

“Fuck, please, I’m sorry, please, ah. I want your cock so bad, please.” You were a mess, your thighs slick with your juices, essence dripping onto the sheets below, “I’ll do anything you want, please Jimin, please.”

“Anything?” he’d mused, hands once again moving to cup your hips, fingers stroking at your sides. “Ride me.” he muttered, a grin slipping past his swollen lips, teeth uncurling from around the tip of your hardened nipple, “Show me how much you love my cock.”

Pulling you close, he had reached for his bedside table, fingers tipping to open the first drawer, “Where the hell-” With a sigh of relief, he pulled a condom out, bringing it to his teeth to tear at it. Eagerly, you wiggled your hips against his weeping cock, hoping to do anything to relieve the ache between your legs. “Be patient, or I won’t let you cum.”

With another slap to your ass, Jimin rolled the condom onto his sensitive cock, hips twitching. Whining, you lifted your body upwards, urging the man beneath you to guide your sensitive pussy onto his waiting cock. Taking a hand to the base of his cock, Jimin gently drew you forward, his hand clutching at your hip as you guided yourself down onto the tip of his twitching length — mouth falling open as he began to shallowly thrust upwards, one hand still pulling against the skin at your sides. “J-Jimin, m-more, deeper, ple-” With a sharp thrust of his hips, he situated his cock within your tight walls, striking your ass with a deafening slap using his palm.

Panting, you swivelled your hips against the base of his body, mouth opening as your bodies met in a heated passion. With a groan, Jimin’s head lulled, abdomen rising in an attempt to shove his twitching length further within your walls. “Fuck, just like that. You look so pretty like that, taking my dick so well. Do you like it-” Jimin’s fingers found their way to your scalp, yanking at the locks of hair that cascade across your face, “Do you like my cock that much, baby?”

“So, so much. I love it, ah, please, so close, shit.” You were sure that nothing you’d said was coherent, your words losing their place along the back of your throat, body rocking against his lean abdomen. Eyes falling closed, you focused your attention entirely on allowing your body to reach its peak for the second time that night — the knot in the pit of your stomach tautening as you rode his dick, fingers reaching to stroke against your sensitive nub.

Smacking your ass again, hands caressing along your sensitive skin as if to soothe the aching sting, Jimin tore himself away, cock drawing out of your weeping entrance. “I told you not to touch yourself. Didn’t I?” he’d growled, arms extending to pull yours over your head, twisting your body, your ass on full display as you mouthed into the pillow beneath you, “Stay still, or I won’t let you cum.” Gasping, he entered you from behind, the need for his release close as he thrust himself forward, hips lewdly smacking against yours.

Moving your face to rest against his pillow, moans quelled by the cloth pressed into your gaping jaw. With a pull against your scalp, Jimin curved your neck back, mouth pressing against yours as he fucked into you, cock shifting inside you with each thrust of his well-trained hips. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. You sound so pretty moaning my name.”

Pivoting your head to press your cheek into the cushion below, you moaned, Jimin’s cock thrusting at just the perfect angle, your vision blurring at the course of pleasure that shot through your spine, arms shifting to clutch onto any sort of tangible surface. “Right there. Right there, fucking hell.”

“I wanna see your pretty face,” pulling his cock free from your walls, Jimin pressed you onto your back, your body losing itself under the pressure of him entering your warm walls. You were too far gone to see the peak of affection in Jimin’s eyes, his body thrusting into you, hands stroking your hips, mouth pressed along the underside of your breasts. Instead, through the hesitant haze of pleasure, your mouth fell loose with praises, back arching, the knot in your stomach brewing closer to something more concrete, something entirely consuming as it was gratifying. Nails once again scratching down the base of Jimin’s back, eyes falling shut, breaths twisting together in a fervent passion. Your mouth opened to let out a string of expletives. Whimpering, your walls tightened, release squirting along the underside of Jimin’s cock.

“Shit, I-” His length, still hard within your swollen walls, twitched, the rubber of the condom making an unexpectedly uncomfortable appearance within you. Pressing yourself into him despite the harsh sensation within your heat, hoping, in some way, he received the hint of your willing continuation, you shifted, walls shoved firmly against his shaft.

With a press to your hip bone, he began to move faster, cock driving into you, abdomen pressed sharply into you. With a curse of your name, he came, short hair stuck against the nape of his neck, hips slowing down their fervent pace.

With a whisper against your ear, lips moving to press a soft kiss against your collarbones, Jimin detached himself from you. Hands reaching to remove the condom from his cock, he tied it shut with the tips of his fingers.

“I’ll be right back baby, let me get something to clean you up.” With a final swift peck to the crown of your head, he stood, the warmth of his body slipping past your naked form. “Stay right there, okay?”

The memory of that first night made you beam despite your hindered mood, fingers clasping the edge of your teal overcoat to further cover your trembling form, heels clacking against the hard pavement of your office’s parking lot. Jimin’s hair had grown since that first time together, his long tendrils now cascading over his forehead in dark waves, hair styled perfectly by your careful hands — the two of you spending hours locked within your shared bathroom, digits fiddling with the ends of his locks, his form sitting beneath your carefully studded gaze.

Even as you made your way home, memories of your life within your shared flat flooded your mind, twisting their way into your heart. How would you ever tell him — the man you’d spent each waking moment with, promises of loving each other until your last breath on the tips of your tongues, souls intertwining beneath your pressed sheets — that you needed to leave your life, leave him, behind?

The pads of your fingers drummed anxiously against your car’s steering wheel; the tune of the radio drowned out by the thoughts of having to break the news. It hadn’t been any particular moment that had made you assume he’d have a poor reaction to your announcement. Perhaps it was the thrumming of your heart pumping hard within your chest, desperate to remove itself from its confines, or the hesitancy to live without someone you’d come to adore despite the drive to move yourself up the never-ending spiral that was the corporate ladder. It had been nothing short of a conundrum, gut twisting as you pulled your car past the gates to your complex, gears shifting as you pulled into your allotted parking space.

Perhaps if you averted the topic of conversation until a later date to sometime over the weekend, when your schedules had dwindled to a slow trickle of basic activities. Maybe then it’d be easier to grasp at the words that sat against the back of your throat.

No sort of plan, though, could quite prepare you for the rap of Jimin’s knuckles against your car’s window in rapid succession, his face peeking into your tinted windows. With a swipe of your hand, you pressed the keys out of the ignition, unlocking the doors. Jimin’s chivalry wasn’t unexpected, his sinewy forearms coming into view as he opened the door of your car, though the faint pulse of your heart reminded you of the news you somehow needed to deliver to the absolute love of your life. You couldn’t wait. It wouldn’t be fair to him — the man who’d welcomed you into his home with open arms despite your hesitant insecurities; the man who’d taken all those days out to keep you company whenever you were especially ill, body curled into a ball against your grey sofa. The same man you’d sworn forever to.

“You’re back early. Did work go okay? I thought you said your boss wanted you to work overtime.” Reaching his body forward, he tugged your handbag out of your car, shutting the door behind him. “Not that I’m not happy you’re back. I saw your car pull up, so I wanted to come get you.”

Swallowing the uncomfortable lump in your throat, you pressed your fingers into his, threading your hands together. You’d give him the news tonight. When you could grasp everything yourself, perhaps then it’d be easier to deliver.

It was, in fact, not any easier to tell Jimin than it had been at the beginning of the evening, your legs resting atop his, fingers fiddling with the tips of his spiralling ebony hair. It had made you, for some rather arbitrary reason, more nervous, hands stopping their motions within his strands to rest atop your palpitating chest.

As if sensing the shift in your mood, digits reaching to cup at your heated face, Jimin pushed himself forward, stroking the skin across the bridge of your nose. “What’s wrong? Do you need anything? Do you want me to make you something?”

You’d decided, through the tears falling against the corners of your eyes, that nothing would’ve quite compared to the love he’d shown you despite your flaws, despite your assurance that he was more than you could’ve ever possibly asked for. “I- I have to leave for work. As soon as possible, to a new city, permanently.”

He’d hesitated, body pulling back, eyes assessing your paling face — as if some part of him had hoped the tears cascading down your cheeks was an indication of something brighter, something hopelessly better than what he’d known was to come. “Baby, that’s amazing! Congrats,” he’d whispered, both hands pushing to stroke along the crown of your head, “I’m glad.You’ve worked hard.”

Your head fell against his shoulder, arms slanted against his abdomen, “I’d have to leave you here. You can’t leave; you have a life here. What are we going to do?” A cry, something so guttural, released itself past your cherried lips, tears streaming against the edges of Jimin’s shirt.

Lifting your face, Jimin pressed a kiss against your mouth, tongue pushing past your parted lips, twisting against yours in a fervent passion. “We’ll work something out. Just because we’ll be apart doesn’t mean we can’t talk every day. We can see each other on holidays, on New Years, all the time. Okay? Come on, look at me.”

Eyes locked with his, mouths close enough to touch, you’d nodded, hands shaking as you curled your fingers into Jimin’s dark locks, pressing his lips to yours once more. You’d been desperate, aching for his soft touch. Beyond the simple touch of his calloused hands, hands encircling your form with each loving stroke, you’d miss the laughter you’d shared at each mistake. Each awkward encounter, each discovery, the nights you’d share. Even now, hands encircling his as you brought his fingers to touch your clothed chest.

Without hesitation, hands practiced after the years you’d spent together, he slipped his palms past your shirt, unclasping your bra, thumb and forefinger pinching against your hardened nipple. Gasping, you’d clambered onto his lap, fingers shifted to drag at the rim of his navy boxers, tongue pressing firmly into his, hips grinding against the confines of his shorts. Lifting his hips, digits slipping away from your heaving chest, Jimin allowed your fingers to tug at the material of his briefs, dropping them along the edge of the bed, dick springing free to rest hardened against his toned abdomen. He was as beautiful as the first time you’d made love, the veins of his cock curving along each side, your cunt quivering at the thought of encompassing him within your tight walls.

Reaching your delicate hand forward, you squeezed the apex of his weeping length, thumb leaning to sit firmly against the tip of his slit. Spreading his precum along his base, hand working its way down in practised motions, you leaned to press a string of marks along the column of this throat, each spot blossoming into a firm red under your careful gaze. Nudging a final kiss to Jimin’s collarbone, your concentration drew, once again, to his hardened length, precum leaking from his aching tip. With a final squeeze, you move your fingers away, choosing instead to flatten yourself against the satiny sheets of your mattress, mouth dipping to press along his dick. With a press of your lips to the head, Jimin’s head falls back, eyes shutting in breathless pleasure.

“Fuck princess, right there, shit.” Removing his hands from their place against your bedding, he threaded them through your hair, working your mouth along his cock, forcing you deeper, balls slapping against the edges of your flushed face. Digging your fingers into his hips, you flattened your tongue, urging his length further down the back of your throat, hearing him gasp as you swallowed around him. Gagging, you moved his cock further into your mouth, digits reaching to stroke the patch of skin that remained untouched, your throat far too small to hold the entire span of his dick. You couldn’t quite tell if the tears falling against your cheeks were from the pressure of having Jimin’s cock along the back of your throat, or if it was the cave of thoughts rushing along your hazy mind, the idea that it could’ve been the last time in a while that you’d get to see Jimin lost in a fit of pleasure, head lolling as he moved you further along the length of him in desperate strokes.

With a final gasp, cock quivering against your swollen lips, Jimin came, spilling into your mouth. Caressing your tongue against his slit, attempting to gather any remaining bits of his relief, you swallowed, the pads of your fingers moving to press along the sides of his lips, gathering his cum into your mouth, sucking at your digits, devouring the last bits of him down your throat.

Pressing himself upwards, the veins on his forearms protruding at each flex of his muscular physique, Jimin gently cupped the edge of your jaw, the tips of his fingers stroking the sides of your face. He’d noticed your tears for the second time that night, mouth encompassing yours in a gentle kiss, willing the tears away. “We’ll be fine, remember? Nothing can pull us apart. I’ll love you for as long as you’ll have me.”

Sob etching its way against the back of your throat, you shook your head. You didn’t deserve it — him, his love, the affection brimming against the corners of his sparkling eyes. Twisting your body, Jimin grabbed at your hips, positioning your body below his. Hands reaching to remove his shirt, abdomen tightening against the cool air, he lowered himself, mouth pressing against your clothed heat. With a push of his fingers, he pulled at the edge of your grey sweats, pulling them past your legs and off your curled feet. Mouthing you through your panties, dripping folds stuck against the material of your underwear, Jimin wrapped his pointer finger around the silky fabric, tearing it off your reddened form with a brisk tug.

“You don’t have to do this,” you’d muttered, hands weaving along his scalp, hands grasping at his dark strands, “I don’t deserve it.” Moments of doubt often etched the confines of your mind, thoughts swirling against the back of your throat, willing themselves to spill against your honeyed lips. His presence had been more than enough, and yet, somehow you’d never quite been able to get rid of the idea that he deserved better — better than you, better than anyone.

Instead of answering, eyes drawn to your swollen heat, he pressed his skilful tongue against your clit, sucking at it as if he were a man starved. Perhaps he had been starved, your days together far and few in between with the necessity to provide income becoming too much to bear, nights spent twisted against one another, hearts beating in tandem, sleep far too close to become anything more.

“This,” he paused, hand reaching to slap against your drenched folds, “is mine. You’re worth more than anything, and if you really don’t believe me, I’ll spend as long as I have to trying to prove that you’re enough.” Diving his face down, a single digit moving to encompass itself within your rigid walls, he began to suck at your clit, finger pressing in and out of your pussy, a string of moans falling past your lips. Pressing another digit into your warmth, Jimin shifted his mouth to press kisses along your navel, mouth sucking at your stomach to leave lovebites.

Tears glistened against your rosy face, arms combing along the back of Jimin’s neck. Hands nearing his shoulder blades, walls clenched around his thick fingers, licks of pleasure coiled against your rigid abdomen in tandem with each of his skilled movements. “Fuck. I’m coming.” Walls sucking against his digits, arms wrapping themselves against his torso, you came, eyes squeezing shut as you rode his fingers, a cry bubbling past your spit-soaked lips.

Tears pressing themselves against the corner or your eyes, you shoved yourself closer, gripping Jimin’s dark strands. Lips pressed against his in a fervent passion, his fingers slid from your core, making their way to tangle themselves against your waist. It had been a goodbye, you’d supposed, tongue twisting into his mouth, a sob escaping against the delicate caress of his tongue.

You had a mind to tell him to leave, let you go with a flourish of your last time within his embrace. Although you hadn’t broken up, your heart clenched within your chest, mind a frenzy despite your lover’s embrace. You hadn’t deserved his care or affection. You were leaving everything, you were leaving him.

As if he’d been able to read your thoughts, he gently squeezed your hips, face snuggling into your hair. “Whatever you’re thinking — stop it. We’ll work this out, okay? You’re perfect. You’re more than I could’ve ever asked for. Promise me. You won’t overthink. You’ll do amazing and I’ll be there, even if it’s on the phone or over text. We’ll make it work.”

A promise echoing against your shared silence, you’d nodded, Jimin’s arms releasing you from his grip, his body pressing against yours under the dim lights.

“Love you?”

“Forever and always, baby.”

The day of your move came sooner than expected. The twist of first snow had turned into the breath of spring. Flowers blooming despite the heaviness of your heart. It was nice, you’d thought, that at least something was consistent. The weight within your chest, pain echoing unbearably within your rib cage, was easier to ignore with time. Your moments with Jimin perhaps just sweet enough to be able to bear him sending you off, fingers clasped against yours.

“Do you have everything you need? You’re sure you don’t want me to grab you something for the flight?” You nearly grinned at the worry laced within his baritone voice, digits clinging to his tighter as you pecked the apple of his cheek, pulling yourself from him with a final tug.

“I’m sure. I have to go now, don’t want to miss my flight.” You didn’t look back. Despite your promises — the vow of forever sealed against your locked lips within the shared wall of your flat — a whimper etched against the back of your throat, a hand covering your mouth in hopes of willing the pain away. You’d make it. For you, for him, for everything you’d sworn wrapped tight against his muscular frame.

Even as his gruff voice filled the airport terminal, “I’ll see you later. Have a safe flight!” You didn’t turn around. Even as you made your way past security, your bags clutched tightly against your side, arms shaking in anticipation. Even as you boarded your flight, back pushing further into the cushion of your assigned chair, your shared oath sitting itself against the edge of your mind playing over and over again, a semblance of peace only coming as you took off, eyes falling to the ground below.

It’d been a month since you’d last talked, a month since you’d left. Your new flat was uncomfortably empty. You’d assumed, at first, that you’d needed to make it yours. A picture here, a picture there. Even as you added touches to each space, it felt lonesome. It was hard to admit that you missed him so easily. Couldn’t you live without his presence? Without his laugh? Without his scattered knick-knacks cluttering your counterspace?

Clambering onto your plastic covered couch — you rarely used the living room, you supposed it was because it was rather boring to sit alone, the only company the echo of television — you wrapped your arms against the corners of your knees, head leaning against your quivering lap. You couldn’t, that much was obvious. Every moment of your shared love had carved itself into your heart, burning against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard the knock at your door until the third time. You’d nearly jumped out of your skin, legs ramming into the edge of your glass coffee table. With a muttered curse, you stood, massaging the pain away, scrambling toward the front entrance of your flat.

Pausing to glance through the peephole, you’d nearly collapsed, tears once again rimming the edges of your swollen eyes. Flinging the door open, you flew forward launching yourself into the arms of the man you’d dared not forget, heart too heavy to do anything other than miss him. “H-how are you-”

“I told you I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

Note: I love thoughts and feedback so don't be shy and send them in <3

Talk to my characters ⤼here!

402 notes · View notes

ilikemesometaetaes · 3 years ago

Text

Feral

Part Four (M)

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: You’ve come to figure out that being the center of everyone’s attention is both a blessing and a terrible, supernatural curse.

•••> Pairing(s): Seokjin / Reader / Taehyung

•••> Word Count: 17.6k [Unedited]

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Warnings: smut, blood thirst, aggressive yearning, multiple orgasms, fangs and venom, werewolf knot, knotting, cum bloating, cum stuffing, obsessive sex, feral werewolf, insecure werewolf, murder (Greek Mythology), character death, oral (f receiving), tongue fucking by a six-inch tongue, mention of murder/vampire hunting, mention of war, mention of cancer, mention of slavery, uncontrollable lust, angst, perceived mate rejection, addiction to venom, withdrawal from venom, and a lot of other stuff. You know the drill. If you don’t want to read, don’t. If you’re under 18, don’t.

Taglist: @honeiibeehobi @kimmieloveswho @imluckybitches @openup-yourmind @sweetrenjun @satansleftnut @seoul9711 @mono-kookie @channiespup @melindagrace31 @hodginss @ifntelyinspirit @japzalileo@jooniesdimplesworld @craztextae @bigdickdaddysatan @agustdjoon @fangirl125reader @no-nottoday @ella-mella @justmewondering-recs @ungodlyjoon @little7bitchh @jiminie-08 @yoongichild @kawaiikiwithefruit @meep-meep @moekoi02 @dariangarcia @junghoseokit @pinknamjoon @jinscharms @jimilter @ressjeon @itsgottabeyoo-ngs @jeon-junggoop @lowlifeoeuvre @danyxthirstae01 @xyahrinx @halesandy @masterpiecejoonie @etherealskzss @jeonlovescoffee @seanachais @muffinminnie @azazel-nyx @danietoww04 @btseverafter7

@lilymarriee @primarybts < won’t let me tag you guys? If you’d like to be on the tag list, send me an ask!

PART THREE (M), PART FIVE (M) -> MASTERLIST

Right before sleep took you, a thought crossed your mind and a weak pulse beat on your clit. It wasn’t strong enough to keep you from going under, but it was concerning nonetheless.

Where is Sir Kim?

“Apollo.” You whispered. “You came.”

The god smiled at you, yet the smile did not seem to wipe the sadness from his eyes, as he materialized from the light of the setting sun. You knew why he was here. You knew why he finally answered your prayer.

His voice was warmth and joy. It was honey and it was the sun on your skin. “Of course, Selene. How could I ignore you now, my moon?”

Your arm was weak to reach for him and you were practically blind to the blood that covered your fingers. The need to touch him was too much to bear. He came to your side elegantly, quickly, and also disregarded the crimson fluid of your body and laced his fingers into your own.

The smile on your lips was weak yet filled with happiness all the same as you felt his light flood your veins. It had been a very long time since you felt the joys of the day as you had felt the pleasures of the night.

Your long night was coming to an end- how else to conclude it than with the True Sun himself bringing you into the beaming rays of his embrace?

“I’d always hoped I would see you once more.” Your lips cracked as you said the words. Your new Lifeblood coursing through your limbs to restore the damage was fruitless; your newfound magic from Ambrogio’s attempt to save you was depleting quickly with the unbridled loss your life had become.

He let out a dry laugh. Forced. Pained. “I am more than delighted to fulfill your wish, my love.”

You coughed again and winced as the wound, cut down the middle of your chest and stomach, pulsed your life into the ground, flowing thick and red.

Ambrogio lay to your side, lifeless fingers threaded into your other hand. His eyes were open, the final, eternal stare fixed on the sky. You mourned his death as you mourned your impending one, the fate of his soul tied with your own after so many years spent with your shared Divinity keeping him alive. His heart beat for you and yours for him- a bond that would sync the stopping of his heart with yours.

Your heart no longer beat, yet the remaining dark magic of Tartarus given by Ambrogio in your last mortal moments left you with a few minutes to bathe in the glow of Apollo on the surface of earth.

“I missed you. For years, I Called for you.” You whimpered as tears managed to fill your eyes, the pain of a mortal lifetime tearing your heart in two. One half still wept in sorrow for the death of your divinity, but the other half grieved for the life you spent without your Sun.

The god frowned, his golden eyes reflecting bits of light through his own tears into that of a rainbow against your skin. “You know the decree, Selene; therefore, you know why it would not be.”

“I know.” You warbled in pain. “But I still prayed for you. Every night, I would give you my prayers.”

“I heard every one.” His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled, forcing the pool of tears to spill over his eyelashes and fall down his cheeks. Your soul wept at the sight. “I always listened.”

Your smile dropped as the emotional and physical agony took its toll on you. “Then you know what has become of us.”

“Man.”

So much blame and anger was placed into the word that came from between his clenched teeth. You felt the blame all the way down to where you loved the creation of Zeus. It was a heavy blow to your care for humanity.

“They called him an abomination. My son- he-” You hiccuped. “They called him a monster.”

“Your son was many things.” He reached a hand out to cradle your cheek and you leaned into his touch. “A monster? No.”

You squeezed your fingers around Ambrogio’s cooling ones and babbled in sadness. “He was ours. He didn’t belong to this world. I loved Ambrogio as I love you and Musaeus was born from that. He loves the world as we love him.”

Apollo shifted to pull your head into his lap and you cried weakly at the feeling of finally being held by the other of your love. Your love for Ambrogio was worldly, physical, and real, but your love for Apollo was spiritual, beautiful, and right. Your heart encompassed both loves as one.

“He will live a full, mortal life, Selene. He will be amazing.” Apollo stroked your hair from your face and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead while he gave you the assurances you needed to rest. “Musaeus will never crave blood. He will carry on and he will be strong. He will have children- human children- and he will be happy. He will live a fulfilling life and he will die a peaceful death. I can give your son the world and I will take his call to Tartarus.”

“Good.” You smiled in relief and whispered your emotion into your breath. “Good.”

“He will be missing half of him- the half that calls for Tartarus- as will all of his children and his children’s children. Are you content with that?”

“Yes.” You felt the draw as the dark magic tugged the rest of you down into the fiery cradle of Hades. “Keep him away from these horrors. They are not fit for Man.”

“It is done.” He said. “And I’m afraid your time is almost upon you.”

You chuckled spitefully and gestured to where the sword of silver that killed you and your mate lay. “Who knew Man would be the ones to exact the definition of abominations?”

“There will be more like Ambrogio but there will no longer be any ‘abominations’ for Man to kill over. They will kill over each other and no more.”

“Very well.” You looked up at Apollo again. “Then, may I ask one more thing of you?”

“Anything, my moon. It is yours.”

You felt the tingle of your lost ardor even as you lay dying in his lap. The desire to finally become whole and full with life despite your loss of it. You had your mortality with Apollo’s gift. You had your dark Night with Ambrogio. All that you were missing was your sunlit Day.

“Kiss me.” You whimpered.

There was no reminder of the forbidden this time. No grimace in submission under the decree of Zeus nor words of displeasure with your wish. You had finally spoken your wish to him after years upon years of praying it and were met with the eyes of Apollo’s indulgence.

The god leaned down with only love stretching outwards to caress your body, filling you with the last bits of light that you craved in your soul. With your final ounces of strength and your endmost seconds of life, you lifted your head to finally meet his lips while you squeezed Ambrogio’s hand into yours.

And in your death, you had everything you would ever want in your first- your last- kiss with Apollo, your True Sun.

A tongue dug into your folds.

It laved against your clit, violating and hot with each stroke. You were so out of it that it was hard to process the friction of it against your sensitive skin at first.

Lips sealed over your opening to enclose your cunt from the cold of the room and blanketed it in the wet heat of a mouth. As you perceived your surroundings- including the sounds of slickness being slurped and low groans of approval in a throat- you came to realize that your legs lay spread out and hooked over shoulders. Hands pressed softly into your waist and squeezed.

Your moan was broken and hoarse with sleep, but a moan nonetheless. You opened your eyes to darkness and blinked while the tongue continued to lazily lap against your nub.

The curtains of your window were drawn over it, blocking out the sun with their thickness, and it made your room almost as dark as when the moonlight barely streamed in the night prior. Still, you could see the edges of the curtains where the sun attempted to grapple into the darkness and failed.

You looked down at the mass of hair between your legs as a particular flick of his tongue sent your toes curling and you whining lowly.

“Seokjin,” Your voice cracked as you called his name. He tightened his hands on your waist, digging his fingers in your flesh, and proceeded to eat at you more persistently in acknowledgment of his name.

Your skin still radiated with numbness to the pain and your fingertips, toes, and belly still pulsed with an incredible need for more. With each pass of his tongue from your cunt to your clit, a hot spark of pleasure sent your body into a craze.

A groan reverberated deep in Seokjin’s chest, shaking you to your core when it vibrated his flattened tongue over your entire pussy. Your eyes rolled back and your hands reached blindly for his hair while your joints stiffened from your lack of stretching after just waking up.

A tug on your tether cooled you to the point of mental relaxation, transitioning you from your state of confusion to acceptance of anything to come. You closed your eyes and relished in the feeling from the tether and, hesitantly, you imagined touching it in thanks as you would touch Seokjin.

Fuck, you taste absolutely piquant.

You snapped your head up to look at Seokjin again, only to find his white eyes already on yours and a small smile every time he detached his mouth to take another lick. Your thighs trembled and a deep whine built up in your throat as you began to feel pleasure from his end of the tether.

Can you hear me, little dove?

You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to process the physical pleasure of Seokjin digging his lips and tongue into you whilst undergoing another sense of pleasure, alien and not yours.

You moved a hand from his head to one of his arms that held you to him, holding him physically as you held him mentally, and tried to bring him closer between your thighs.

Tell me you can hear me, Y/N.

Your breath was stolen as his tongue, long as ever, began to shallowly fuck into your cunt.

“I can hear you.” You whimpered.

Tell me like this.

His tongue shot back further into your wetness, crowding against your cervix as it had done only hours before. You gurgled another moan as you tried to keep your eyes focused on the vampire and adjust to the sensation.

The mental task was heavy and difficult, not what you thought it to be, and you tried to give him your words past the hectic chaos of lust-ridden thoughts that crowded your mind.

Hear you.

Seokjin was happy with your effort. You could feel his happiness alight in your blood, a joy that was colder, older, and much different from your own. You relished in his emotions as his tongue bulled against the opening to your womb again.

You’re so tight. So deep. So fucking beautiful.

You cried out a sob as Seokjin began swirling his tongue around your walls. With the muscle much thinner and more agile than his dick, it became a sensation that was impiously sacrilegious. You laid splayed out and mindless atop your already-ruined sheets while his tongue began to fuck into you with your womb as it’s destination and your legs spread and bound by his arms over his broad shoulders.

You canted your hips toward his face on instinct, your body’s way of hoping that he could tongue fuck you deeper, yet you instantly regretted it when his tongue finally began to breach through and all you felt was mind-numbing bliss- a dangerous sensation when you were hesitant about accepting his bite and full bond.

You scrambled away from him to regain a sense of control but all you succeeded in doing was trapping yourself against the headboard as he followed to return his tongue to its depth. With strong hands, he held your thighs against his shoulders to keep you from moving anymore.

Like a drug, the ecstasy overflowed you when he began a rough rhythm into your most sacred place. It wasn’t human- wasn’t right- yet it was all you could feel as you threaded your fingers into his hair and tugged him into the apex of your thighs even harder to try bringing him deeper. Your body was quickly succumbing to his filthy desire, making it your own.

Sweat dripped down your forehead and temples and your lips went dry as you panted under the weight of the sin taking place. Your womb was not made to be explored; nevertheless, it was becoming his playground to obliterate.

Fuck, I love you. His voice was not audible, yet it was in the form of whispers as your own thought that you looked at him and caught his eyes again.

His tongue poked in and out of your womb with a slow pace to allow you the time you needed to get used to it, but by the time you were accepting the movement in full force- with his venom preventing you from feeling anything but complete love- you were already approaching your orgasm.

Gonna cum, you managed to tell him.

His speed picked up again and you felt his fangs slightly press into your skin while the tip of his tongue pressed through your cervix. You mouth was agape, dry from your heavy breathing, yet no sound escaped in the face of your unbridled pleasure.

Seokjin pulled away suddenly, slipping his tongue out of you, and sat up on his knees. Only then, in the darkness, did you realize he was beautifully naked.

His chest was flushed red and his lips were swollen from the amount of time he spent suctioned on you, however, it was the sight of your cum dripping down his chin and down his chest to his dick that had you crying out for his attention.

“Cum on my dick, baby.”

Eagerly, you shot your hands out to hook onto his shoulders and bring his body into yours. With a hiss, he grabbed his dick, positioned it, and slid into your eager pussy to continue your crescendo into your climax without missing a beat. He dropped his chest to yours once he was molded into your walls.

The vampire only had to pump twice more and rub a circle into your clit before you were cumming around him, sobbing his name and smashing your lips onto his in a hectic fervor.

He came as you did, seemingly releasing after waiting for you, and spurted a solid jet of hot cum into your body. Your stomach warmed again from the heat and your legs tightened around his waist to lock him inside. Unreservedly full with his seed and confident that it would never take root in your current state, you relaxed and accepted all that he gave you far in your body.

After a few breaths, he pulled out and grinned.

“Good morning.” You breathed.

“Good morning, little dove.”

Seokjin smiled down at you affectionately, eyes crinkling at the corners, as he removed himself from inside you. Then, he lowered your legs to the mattress and moved to lay next to you.

You licked your lips to wet them. “Sleep well?”

“No.”

You cocked your head to look at him, caught off guard by the straightforwardness of his answer. “No?”

“Vampires do not sleep, Y/N.”

“Oh…” You winced. “Sorry.”

He chuckled, wrapping a long arm around your waist to pull you into his cocoon of love. “It is my fault and my fault alone. I should’ve been here to tell you everything you wanted to know. It seems that you had a peacefully dreamless sleep?”

“Something like that.” You winced, wondering if you should tell him about your peculiar visions that told of ancient deities and bloody deaths. You brushed off the thought and decided to distract yourself from it, ignoring your strangely active imagination.

Hesitantly, you placed your hand on his sternum and spread out your fingers to touch as much of his skin as you could.

For a few seconds, his heart beat under your palm and you marveled at the simple sensation of it bumping against your touch. What made you look up to him in panic was his heart completely stopping. Seokjin only returned his expression of entertained adoration.

“My heart beats when I feed and when I have sex.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why?”

He brought a hand up to cradle your jaw and delicately thumb over your cheekbone. “It helps me process the blood I consume. It also fills me with blood in the… place that requires it.”

You knew what he meant. Only moments ago did you see the head of his dick, red and engorged with blood, to know that the organ was what he referred to.

“I see.”

In the silence and darkness that surrounded your naked bodies, you were left staring into Seokjin’s eyes with a million questions on the tip of your tongue. You just weren’t sure which to ask first.

Your stomach growled lowly, an indicator of an interruption in your conversation, and Seokjin let his hand trail down from your face until he palmed the side of your rib. “Sounds like it’s your turn to be fed.”

You brought your hand to cover your eyes in embarrassment, giggling softly at the simplicity of the situation between the two of you. Seokjin was getting off the bed before you could uncover your eyes.

You sat up and watched him walk over to where his torn clothes lay strewn over the floor. You watched, enraptured, as his legs flexed with each step and his back gave way to the wide muscles of his shoulders. Shit, even his butt was gorgeous.

Seokjin picked up his phone gently and padded back over to you without the inherent need to shield any of himself from your eyes. Quickly typing into his phone as he came to sit back on the bed, you watched him tap away.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t look away from the cracked screen. “Texting Bolanle.”

“Where is she?”

“The kitchen.”

You chuckled at the surprising laziness of Lord Kim Seokjin. “Nice.”

He tossed his phone onto the nightstand and turned to face you with a suggestive smirk. “What? Texting is convenient. Especially when I have my mate in bed with me.”

Seokjin leaned into you and playfully nipped at the skin of your shoulder, only to trail the small bites toward your neck where you knew to be a hickey- or four.

Your body shuddered as he covered it with his own and you eagerly accepted him between your legs again. Even as he peppered your skin with kisses and smiled into the action, you felt the irresistibly drawing need for him to be inside you.

You also felt an odd hollowness in your chest, preventing you from completely relishing in the perfect moment with the vampire. Despite all of the fulfilling perfection that seemed to happen in the span of the last twelve hours, you still felt strangely incomplete.

Where is Sir Kim?

The issue with the question that had been nagging at you for the past few weeks seemed to push you just enough to say the query aloud. Seokjin immediately got up with a low ‘shit’ muttered between his lips.

“What’s wrong? Is he okay?” You asked worriedly and watched as he took a sheet from your bed to wrap around his waist like a skirt.

“He’s fine.” He leaned down to place a kiss upon your lips. “I just need to go find him.”

You leaned into him to elongate the kiss, desperate for more contact, but he pulled away before you could get back into the mood of wanting his tongue in your guts again. “He’s lost?”

“Not particularly.” Seokjin began walking towards the door. “I’ll be back in a few days, my love. We can take care of everything and then I can put my tongue right back into your guts.”

You blanched with embarrassment. In your relaxed state, it was easy to forget that your otherworldly bond with the lord somehow allowed him access to your thoughts. He smirked back at you as he twisted the knob and swung the door open.

Although you became frazzled and caught off guard, you trusted his word. You had faith that he would remain true to it despite his lengthy disappearance that sent you into a sick craze.

“Come back safely.” You whispered.

The vampire smiled. “Always.”

Bolanle looked as tired as ever as she cleaned the dishes you used. You kind of felt bad. She woke up just to make you food at nine o’clock in the morning when she was usually asleep by six.

“I’m sorry for waking you.” You winced. “I could’ve just made my food for myself.”

She sighed. “As long as you are fed, I am happy. If our Lord wants me to make you food then I shall make you food.”

The statement made you think. In the days following Bolanle’s revelation of her history to you, you became curious about how a designed human and a vampire came to meet.

“Bolanle,” You started. “I know that you told me Dr. Bergenov was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but you never told me about you; how did you come to be in Seokjin’s service?”

“He rescued me.” She shrugged. “Some people heard of my… heritage, so they did the typical pitchfork and torch scheme and came after me, claiming I was the work of Eshu- our version of what you may call the devil. They thought he was trying to trick humans into worshipping something other than Olodumare. Lord Kim just so happened to have caught wind of them plotting to kill me and rescued me instead.”

The woman flicked her locks out of her face to look at you. “I come from the Yoruba people in Nigeria. The religion worships the Orishas of Olodumare, so when a few people in my village began worshipping my mother and I, they hated it. A few rumors and a public execution of my human family led me to try and sail the western seas in hopes of recovering the rest of my human family who were taken by Ile-Ife for the slave trade. I really hoped to earn my way back into their good graces. What was I to do?” She raised her hand in the air expectantly. “I was so young and inexperienced and naive back then.”

The two of you moved to the lounge while she talked and you listened intently. Gingerly, she sat on the couch and you quickly took the loveseat. “I’d only heard about the United States from the few messengers who came by our village every few months after they visited Ile-Ife. My mother didn’t know much either. When she was taken back to Haphaestus’ house for his eternal service, she was forced to leave me behind because, although I was designed perfectly by her, I was human. No human could walk the Halls of Olympus.”

“When did she leave?” You asked, enraptured by her history.

“In 1789. When I was forty-two. Right when people began to realize that I was no longer aging normally.”

“When did you realize you’d stopped aging?”

Bolanle looked up for a moment and placed her fingers on her chin in thought. “I think I was around twenty-five when I noticed. I never thought to ask my mother when I would slow down. Come to think of it, she probably wouldn’t have known either. I was among the first of my sisters to be designed so we had no reference.”

You tilted your head. “Where are the rest of your sisters?”

“Many of them were prosecuted, the same as me, although…” She winced. “They weren’t as lucky as I was in finding someone to defend them. As perfect as we were, we were still human; fighting off angry mobs of people is no easy task.”

The meaning of her words was heavy and awful. “I am so sorry, Bolanle.”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. Those that still live are very happy women nowadays.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” You leaned your chin onto your fist. “How many are left?”

Bolanle sighed and leaned back in her seat, staring up at the ceiling.

“There are twenty-three of us left.”

You were shocked. Of the ninety-nine humans created by the automatons of the Divine Smith, seventy-six were killed.

“And you…” You trailed off. “You still keep in touch with them?”

“A few.” Bolanle said. “I reconnected with four of them when I came to the United States. Lord Kim protected me from those who would hunt or enslave me and took me back here after he helped me return the stolen children to Ile-Ife.”

You cocked your head in wonder. “What did Seokjin do once you returned with him?”

Bolanle tilted her head for a moment, her bronze skin becoming highlighted by the luminescence of the chandelier above. “I think he was hunting. The Portuguese were increasingly threatening and he wanted to even the playing field a bit.”

“Even the playing field?” You echoed. "How did he do that?"

"Well,” Bolanle began. "He thought that it was unfair for such a small village like mine to be sitting there like ducks while we waited for Ile-Ife to steal us away and trade us to the white men for weapons. We hadn’t done anything to take part in the slave trade but suddenly, we became the prime product.”

“I was surprised.” She laughed. “He knew our language so well. It was almost as if he had spoken it for years. When he came and made a deal with the chief to protect us if he provided sanctuary for me, the chief agreed so enthusiastically that it became a known fact to the entire district that no one could touch me. I was practically the chief when I came back to Yorubaland with him.”

"How did he act when you got back?” You asked.

"Increasingly protective." She replied. "Like I was his daughter."

With him being almost two centuries older than the woman, you understood his need to protect her. It was a given that he would tend to someone lifetimes younger than him.

Bolanle’s phone rang, breaking you out of story time and returning you back to the present moment with a shrill tone.

The woman furrowed her eyebrows as she answered it. “Sheriff? Lord Kim’s just left for town.”

After some silence, Bolanle's forehead filled with worry lines. “I’ll let him know. We’ll get right to it.”

“What happened?” You were quick to ask after she tapped on her screen to end the call.

"Sir Kim has moved to Whittier this time. He broke into another fish warehouse."

You giggled, trying to make light of the situation. "Why a fish warehouse?"

Bolanle laughed with you despite her continuous gaze on her phone while she tapped on it. "Sir Kim is a particularly hungry creature." You tilted your head with curiosity, wondering what Sir Kim was. His apparent diet of fish led you to a plethora of possibilities.

Bolanle sniffed once and put her phone away, making to grab her coat from the rack and head towards the newly repaired front door. "I'm afraid I must leave you with Dr. Bergenov. I have to contribute my assistance so that Sir Kim does not accidentally out himself to those poor people."

As she left out the door and you bid her farewell, you imagined just what would ensue should Sir Kim reveal himself. You didn’t even know what he was yet an inkling buried deep in the recesses of your mind told you that you knew exactly what he was.

You just refused to believe it.

Lord Kim Seokjin was careful as he entered the small streets of Cordova. He couldn’t get too close to the citizens for the fear of his skin burning away from his bones- and the fact that the townspeople hadn’t seen him in nearly twelve years.

The last time he was in town, a small child had taken to the streets and lost control of himself, killing family pets and attacking strangers who hoped to help him in his supposed tantrum. He tore his way through the streets and caused mayhem in his path.

Kim Seokjin was no stranger to the situation though.

The child was a born wolf, no more than eight months old at the time, and he had evolved to the likeness of a six year-old human due to his nature as a lycanthrope. Seokjin remembered his wild brown eyes staring up at him like it had just happened the day prior.

He was a feral child and it was obvious that he had not had any contact with his mother since his birth. He wore no clothes and he spoke no language. The only human expression that he seemed to present was the look of his disgust when he scented the vampire on the wind.

“It’s okay.” Seokjin had carefully spread his hands out in front of him, palms to the sky to show that he was not a threat to the Lycan, and approached him slowly. Despite the pup's lack of knowledge in speech, Seokjin still spoke to offer a volume of comfort. “I won’t hurt you.”

He managed to back the young wolf into the corner of a dock where he would fall in the water if he tried to go anywhere but at him. Wolves, with their thick coats of fur that weighed a lot when soaked, avoided the water like the plague due to the fear of drowning. The child had lost control and phased into his black and sand-colored coat during the pursuit.

“Just take it easy.” Seokjin said lowly. “You're fine.”

The pup snarled at him, revealing his teeth to attempt warding off the danger that he thought Seokjin to impose. With a wince, Seokjin slowly inched forward.

“Oh, by the Gods, Jin,” Taehyung spoke from behind the vampire, a hint of a scoff showcasing his obvious annoyance with the situation. “Of all the years you've handled my kind, you can't get this pup under control?”

“Shove it, mutt. It was hard enough to get him away from the people. This shit takes time.”

Taehyung smirked cockily. "Not if you're an alpha.”

The werewolf wiped the smile from his face as he made eye contact with the child. It lightly bowed its head under the mental pressure that Taehyung exhumed onto it, yet it still bared its teeth and licked them to try and fight the submission.

“Feisty one, aren't ya?” Taehyung chuckled heartily. “You purebreds sure are a pain to bend. I'll give you that.” The older wolf bent down to become eye-level with the small one and placed his hands on his knees. “But you're going to have to submit now.”

The young one whined in protest and dropped his head lower to the ground. Despite wanting to resist, the pressure would become far too painful on the child's mental. He wasn't nearly developed enough and would most likely never get the chance to be because of his separation from his mother. He had the most vital stage of his development stripped away.

After around two minutes of the pup's struggling, his tongue lolled out and he laid on the dock in relaxation. He knew who the alpha was.

“There you go.” Taehyung reached his hand out and placed it on top of the wolfs head. “That wasn't so hard, was it?”

The wolf child was no longer a child- Seokjin and Taehyung could tell that much by how the eyes did not reflect the typical vibrant blue that purebreds donned in their wolf state- yet neither man could find it in themselves to eliminate the child when it became docile.

“What should we do with him? We can't leave him here.” Seokjin looked down on the child in worry.

“Yeontan.” Taehyung said simply.

The vampire furrowed his eyebrows at the werewolf in confusion. “What?”

“I'm naming him Yeontan.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“He's not an animal, Taehyung.”

“Actually,” Taehyung turned to meet his brother's gaze at him. "He is now. There's nothing salvageable in him anymore. Nothing human to recover."

“So his name is Yeontan,” Taehyung turned back to meet the eyes of the wolf in front of him, looking down at him proudly. For some reason, he was feeling particularly fatherly today. "And he's mine."

Seokjin shook his head at the blasphemy.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Seokjin shook his head at the memory, curious of the pack Taehyung integrated Yeontan into.

The small pack was located several miles from Seokjin’s large estate. It was safer for Yeontan to stay away from any close settlement so that he didn't happen to run into the wrong people at the wrong time. Many humans didn't understand the quiet life of the wolf and Seokjin was completely sure that they would unnecessarily kill him. Instead of letting him roam freely as a lone wolf, which was incredibly dangerous, Taehyung placed Yeontan as the alpha of a group of Interior Alaskan wolves to keep him grounded.

The vampire made a beeline for the police station, keeping his hat low to conceal his face. It was necessary to conceal the fact that he hadn't aged a single day since the last time the locals saw him all those years ago.

"Ah, Lord Kim," The sheriff greeted Seokjin at the door with a nervous smile, green eyes seeming to tremble under Lord Kim's intimidation. "Glad to have your assistance on this again. These damned wolves can't seem to stay out of our business."

"The damned wolves are simply acting with the flow of nature.” Seokjin was quick to correct the human, mocking the word with the smallest amount of aggression. “It is you who cannot stay out of nature's business."

"Yes," The sheriff said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "That's what I meant, sir."

Seokjin resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the human's pathetic behavior and, instead, focused on the matter at hand- Taehyung’s obvious episode that has caused some turmoil for the humans' precious money.

"So, he was last seen in Valdez?"

"Actually," The sheriff began. "I tried to reach you about that but Ms. Bolanle informed me that you had already left for town."

"What is it?" Seokjin tried not to show how annoyed he was with the man whilst he pulled out his phone.

The white-haired man looked away from the intensity of Sir Kim's eyes. He knew there to be something sinister- something unholy- about the Lord of the Bangenov estate. All he knew was that he signed legally binding paperwork that prevented him from asking questions and telling anyone else about him.

The sheriff was careful with his response. "He was spotted in Whittier this morning. At the boat harbor."

For fuck’s sake.

Seokjin closed his eyes and rose his hand to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. He was all the way on the other side of the Orca and Eaglek bays.

"The security team over there got him cornered for a bit but then he kept running west. My guess is he's heading for the city. Ms. Bolanle has already begun to head that way."

Fuck.

Seokjin didn't like the idea of leaving you alone, but Anchorage would be terrible for Taehyung and Bolanle probably wouldn't make it there in time due to her human modes of transportation. Seokjin would need to travel on his own and instruct Bolanle to stay in the local area.

Anchorage would be incredibly dangerous for the wolf and he would be captured or killed within an hour- Seokjin wouldn't know how to handle losing his brother. Not only would the loss be a terrible ache in his heart, it would endanger the world as he knew it.

Sooner rather than later, the humans would discover the supernatural in Taehyung‘s biology, whether he was dead or alive, and it would open up an entire kaleidoscope of terrible possibilities for the future of werewolves. Consequentially, the entire supernatural world would be in danger. It’s the reason as to why lone wolves were so rare.

Seokjin needed to find Taehyung and he needed to find him fast.

“I’ll find him. Keep your deputies on high alert. Contact me or Bolanle if you see him."

Seokjin looked at his phone and shot a quick text to Bolanle in response to her text message that informed him of the situation.

I’m going to the city. Stay in the local area and be my POC for the sheriff.

Bolanle’s response was almost immediate.

Understood. Good luck, my Lord.

Seokjin needed to move quickly. There was no time to waste. He needed to swim- now.

“Sheriff, I’m going to be leaving my coat with you. If anything happens to it, know that it will set you back about five-thousand dollars.” Seokjin was shedding his coat and placing it on the coat rack in the man’s office before he could protest or exhibit his shock from the price.

“W-why?” He stuttered.

“It’s Valentino. I don’t want to get it dirty.”

The sheriff only stiffened and nodded in response.

Seokjin was out the door and diving into the bay before the sheriff could fully turn to look at the expensive article of clothing in his office.

What had he gotten himself into?

The pain in your body was returning.

It was ever present as you struggled to suppress the heat seeping into your skin with cool towels and cold drinks. Unsurprisingly, you'd broken into a sweat like you had right before Seokjin relieved you of it.

With Dr. Bergenov as crabby as ever, secluding himself to whatever he did in his free time, and Bolanle absent due to her contribution in trying to find Sir Kim, you were left by your lonesome in the giant manor of the Bangenov estate. Your need for exploration into the many vacant rooms only got you so far before you confined yourself to your room, the kitchen, and the library for your fear of encroaching on the lord's privacy.

The hours of waiting for Seokjin- along with Bolanle- were filled with emptiness and unease. The wake of their absence left a giant hole where the life of the manor used to be. Although you had only been around for a few weeks, the two people- okay, maybe Dr. Bergenov too- became the largest parts of your only real social life. It was difficult to ignore that, while they were gone, your loneliness came back at full force.

As the days went by, you found yourself in the library more and more. The collection of books that Seokjin studied held your curiosity as you struggled to understand them by typing the words into Google translate.

Your classes were easy enough- with all of them online, you could keep up with the due dates of your assignments on your own time. Without any actual meeting times, you were able to complete your work anywhere in the house that you pleased.

Spring began four days after Seokjin's departure and you were beginning to feel the effects of his blood in your body wearing off. You hadn't realized it before; his blood had you not only immune to pain, but hearing and seeing much better. Having to use your reading glasses after those few days to do your homework reminded you that, yes, you actually had to wear glasses sometimes.

Day five of waiting for Seokjin, something strange began happening.

A phantom touch began skating along your skin at the most random of times. A whisper and exhale dancing along your lips when you trailed your finger along the pages of one of Seokjin's books. A featherlight caress on your cheek when you chewed on your toast for breakfast in the evening. A soft kiss on your neck and a knee between your thighs as you rinsed your face off in the shower.

Someone had been with you like this.

You remembered it.

Your body was insistent on believing that it was Sir Kim. Had you felt his touch before? The touch was so familiar that you swore the energy was one you'd experienced, yet you knew that it wasn't Seokjin nor any other man you'd been with. How did you know this touch? The more you thought about it, the more you asked yourself;

Where is Sir Kim?

Before you knew it, the days without Seokjin turned into another week without him. It was beginning to weigh in on the factors of loneliness so that you felt so crazy that you believed Sir Kim connected with you somehow.

You knew no words were spoken, a frustrating sensation of communication that left you questioning more than before, and you began suffering the lack of answers as more time passed. Were these actual memories haunting you? Or was it something... supernatural?

You perused through the library during the time you spent focusing on the touch of the other. Your assignments didn't take you very long, so it allowed you the time to read, process, and understand the details of Seokjin's anthologies within his massive collection of material. Vampires, werewolves, oracles, sirens; where did it end? What was real? What was a myth that man created to describe the illogical things they had seen- likely products of the existing supernatural- so that they could attempt to identify the otherworldly?

"A Lycan is most vulnerable during a full moon due to instinct, when the tide is at its highest. High waters are the most dangerous factor to a wolf due to the fact that swimming with the heavy coat is practically impossible."

You tilted your head at the words, dumbfounded by the surprisingly logical perspective, and continued typing more of the Latin into the translator.

"Although the moon goddess of their lore, Selene, is said to be at her strongest during a full moon- this is the alluded reasoning to their weakness- there is no solid evidence proving nor disproving the accuracy of their religion. It is also rumored that-"

Selene.

The name glowed at you the further you got from it. The harder you tried to move on and read more into the transfixing information on your laptop, the more you lost focus and became distracted by the name.

As you did with the names of Lord Kim and Sir Kim, you gave into the urge to whisper the name aloud.

“Selene.”

Your vision went white.

A beast came skidding to a stop far in the woods and froze with its paws planted deep into the soil. In the pale light of the full moon and the crisp air of the early spring night, it became invigorated by the phantom touch of its goddess. Any prior thoughts of hunger were forgotten.

It was a touch that urged him back to the estate of the man's vampire companion. The man within the beast perked back into mild consciousness at the new interest, already having been resigned to giving the beast full control in its rut. The man could do nothing except let the beast change course back to his home with the hope that his vampiric brother would come to reel his control back in.

Faster than it had ever sprinted before, a speed that left plants and weeds uprooted in his wake, the beast of Kim Taehyung moved its legs with an urgency that felt similar to the need to survive.

The man understood this situation as life or death; he could feel the desperation to live as his own instinct, yet he did not know what prompted the beast to feel these things. The beast had never truly felt threatened like this. In the many years it spent on the earth, running into many dangerous creatures of his world, it never felt as if it would die like it did now. Something was strange about the sensation though.

The man could not delve too far into the beast's emotions for it was a simple creature and its emotions were simple to understand, however, the man was confused to find that fear, an emotion usually associated with the possibility of dying, was nowhere to be found.

The beast did not have to be human to feel fear- all animals felt a sense of fear when confronted with the potential of death- but the beast maintained a sense of knowing and urgency that utterly terrified him.

It ran for what seemed like an eternity. Kim Taehyung was surprised to find that he was still incredibly aroused yet not doing anything to relieve the pressure. What could be so important that not even his rut got in the way of it? He wasn't thinking clearly, so far back in the mind of the beast that any reasoning could only go so far before the beast pushed him back into simplicity.

Whatever drove the beast was instinctual. Carnal. Feral.

Taehyung just had to sit back for the ride and hope to be brought back to his humanity sooner rather than later.

"I'm here to see Mr. De Nas, ma’am.”

Seokjin leaned an arm against the counter and pulled his top hat further down his forehead with the other. The nurse was young, he could tell, yet her eyes had aged many years since the beginning of the war. He spoke to her softly and respectfully, hoping that she would feel a little more at ease in his presence with his chivalry.

She looked up at him stressfully, her brown eyes dull and lifeless due to the horrors she had seen in her few months working in the infirmary. "Are you his kin?”

Seokjin wasn't exactly lying to her when he said, “Yes.”

Quizzically, she looked up at him.

"I'm his second cousin-" Seokjin mended his previous answer. "- from America."

"What's his date of birth?" She asked as an obligation of protocol.

"October third, ma’am.”

She raised a thin eyebrow. “Year?”

Seokjin had to resist the urge to roll his eyes in front of a lady. He was a gentleman after all. “1888.”

“Very well.” The corner of her lips barely nudged upward as she attempted to smile. It looked more like a grimace. "I'll have someone bring you to him."

“No need, ma’am. I’ve been here before.” He smiled and put a hand up whilst leaning back to leave.

That was a lie.

Because he’d never been in that infirmary before. In fact, he’d never actually been to Belgium.

Seokjin still smiled and walked away from the counter because he didn’t need to have been in the hospital to find the person he was looking for. He had his nose and his ears for that.

The scent of Wim De Nas was strong amongst the dozens of others within the hall. Dried blood permeated the corridors and made Seokjin’s face more difficult to control, yet the blood wasn’t alluring enough to make him lose his composure. Instead, he focused on the familiar scent of his assistant’s cancer-laced blood.

The vampire strode down the hall quickly, knowing that the human’s time on earth was dwindling. He needed to see him before he passed.

Luckily enough, Seokjin’s connections were developed enough that he was able to get Wim his own room away from the busy group rooms like the other soldiers of his country. War had struck yet again and, at the conclusion of it, it seemed that Wim’s god did not will him to survive. His cancer had attacked his liver mere weeks after the conclusion of the second world war and a month before his fifty-seventh birthday.

Seokjin found his room before long. It came as no surprise that Wim was hooked up to a drip to maintain his hydration.

“You’ve definitely seen better days.” Seokjin took off his hat and pressed it to his chest as he regarded Wim’s state whilst speaking the Flemish of Wim’s people. The man’s skin stretched tightly over his cheekbones, a sign of malnutrition and sickness, and it contrasted starkly to the boy he saw graduate all those years ago. Seokjin couldn’t help the sad look that he made on his face to act out the normal human response.

Wim chuckled weakly, turning his head to look at the ancient one, and offered a soft smile.

“And yet, it seems that you’ve seen the same days since the last time I saw you.”

Seokjin quickly moved to pull up a chair at the bedside so that he could level with the dying human.

“It is all the same; the same as always.” The vampire still clutched his hat to his chest as if to shield his unbeating heart from the damage that this scene would cause it if it were human.

Wim turned his head back to the ceiling and closed his eyes from the exhaustion that riddled him. His lips were dry and his words were breathless. “That’s good. Very good.”

Seokjin let the statement sit in the silence for a moment, merely hoping that it would miraculously change his assistant’s mind. “I assume that you know why I’ve come here now.”

“I do,” Wim sighed. “and I’ll have you know that my position on the topic has gone unchanged even on my deathbed.”

The vampire let his head drop just slightly in disappointment before he spoke again. “I see. Would you please explain to me once more as to why you do not wish to accept my lifeblood?”

“I’m a man of science, Lord Kim; I’m a man of medicine. I took an oath when I became a doctor that promised the care and healing of all people. I cannot delay my inevitable end when the price of doing so endangers those I love.” Wim turned his head to look at his lord and held the stern reality of life as a beacon within his hazel eyes.

“I am immortal, Wim.” The vampire resisted the urge to puff his chest out. “There is no end for individuals like me.”

“Everything must come to an end. Everything. Although your end may not seem conceivable right now, God has ensured that all things capable of life are capable of death.”

For a moment, Seokjin weighed the words in his mind, tossing them back and forth between the logic of his condition and the potential of the existence of a higher power.

“How long do you have?” Seokjin decided to leave Wim’s statement where it was and move on.

“A month.”

There was a slight pain in Seokjin’s chest yet it was gone as soon as it appeared. He wished he could have come to visit Wim way before the war concluded, yet it was a risk for him to cross the sea at a time when it was constantly regulated by the world’s superpowers. He couldn’t take the route through the Canadian peninsula into eastern Russia either because it was heavily guarded by those who sought to protect it from American claim.

“It will be a shame to see you go, Wim. Your service was greatly appreciated. You became an outstanding young man.”

“It is because of you that I have built this life for myself. I received an education and clothes on my back because of your faith in me." Wim's bottom lip trembled. "The least I could do was assist you in your extraordinary life- even if my time serving you was minuscule.” Somehow, Wim was well enough to produce a few tears in his eyes. “It’s been quite the journey with you, father.”

Seokjin clutched his hat just a tiny bit more in his grasp. He had brought this boy up since he found him on the streets, barely over three years old at the time. Now, he was outliving him. “I say the same to you. Helping you grow into who you were meant to be has been my greatest achievement of my entire existence, my son.”

The two men sat weeping- one shedding a few tears and clutching onto the fingers of his father while the other wished that he could find some way to exhibit the true emotion that struggled to manifest within him- until the one marked for death fell into a dreamless sleep.

"I require your services no longer, Wim." Seokjin's smile was bittersweet as he placed a hand onto his forehead, brushing some of the whitening hair out of the way while he spoke softly. "Enjoy the rest of your human life, my boy."

The vampire ensured that he had delightful dreams of open fields and sunny skies before he stood to leave. With hesitation, he let his fingers slip from the dying man’s grasp.

As Seokjin left his only son behind, he narrowly avoided the quick path of a human surgeon who was struggling to take a set of bloody gloves off of his fingers. In his distracted state, he lost the handle on his thirst. He felt the blood rush to his scleras and fill the veins around his eyes for just a fraction of a second before it was returning to his body.

"Pardon me, sir." The vampire eyed the man carefully as he listened intently to the pulse of his heart so that he could gauge if the man saw his face. His heart rate was already accelerated from his quick walk and obvious stress, but he didn't notice any further jump of surprise or shock. It was relieving because he didn't have to do anything to conceal his identity.

"I'm sorry." He said. "I should have been watching where I was going."

Seokjin smiled. "That's quite alright, sir. I could say the same about myself."

The man nodded once and turned to walk away, obviously in a hurry. "Good day."

The vampire nodded in return and began walking in the opposite direction.

The surgeon didn't let himself exhale a stuttered breath until he closed the door to his office behind him.

What was that?

Fear coursed through him as he remembered the sight of the demon. His hands trembled as he placed them on his desk to try calming his rapidly beating heart.

Despite the crippling fear, the man decided that he would find out just what the demon actually was. He needed to know so that he protect Mikhail from it.

“Dr. Bergenov?” A nurse came barging into his office. “The next patient is ready.”

The man quickly followed her out of the door.

Lord Kim Seokjin doubled back in confusion. Right on the outskirts of Anchorage, the scent of the Lycan stopped. A large indent of disturbed dirt conveyed that Taehyung had changed his mind less than two hours before the vampire got there.

Incredibly puzzled, Seokjin pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant's number.

"Did you find him, my lord?” Bolanle’s voice was laced with as much concern as Seokjin was feeling.

“No. I was going to ask if the sheriff had any leads.”

Seokjin heard the woman sigh over the phone.

“None yet. He’s as stumped as we are. There haven’t been any sightings.”

The vampire cursed lowly and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers- a habit he picked up to feel more human. “Damn it. His path has changed drastically. He’s gone back towards home I think.”

“Has he? I’ll be sure to inform the locals to keep an eye out then.”

“Very well.” Seokjin said. “I’ll check in later.”

“Understood, my lord.”

Seokjin hung up again and began tracking the mutt once more. If the wolf was going where he thought he was going, he needed to be even faster than a Lycan. The thought intimidated him.

Within the first twenty minutes of tracking, Seokjin noticed that Taehyung’s scent split to the northwest, in the direction of Ni’iinlii Njik. It seemed that the wolf still didn’t want to be near your nor the estate after all.

Although he sprinted for another hour to track the scent, he came to a sudden stop so that he could answer his ringing phone. He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t have a spark of hope in his chest as the sun set on the horizon

“Bolanle?” He said her name expectantly.

“My lord,” She began. Seokjin could hear the conflict in her tone with the two, simple words. “I don’t want to concern you but-“

“What happened?” The vampire had to hold his hiss back as he cut her off.

“Y/N has gone missing.”

You woke in the cold.

You still had your lounge gown on but you had no shoes on your feet. Your mind was flayed into confusion the more you took in your surroundings.

The moon was full as it gazed down on you and lit the ground.

Leaves crunched under your body as you carefully moved to your feet. No matter how much you thought about it, you couldn’t remember how you got out of the mansion.

Where is Sir Kim?

You doubled over at the thought and winced as the ache between your legs returned at full force. It had gone forgotten in your wakeful daze but it seemed to multiply tenfold as it reminded you of its presence.

The urge to find him was instantaneous and you carried yourself further into the wilderness despite knowing in the back of your mind that it was unreasonable to continue. Why were you so driven to find him? There was a disconnect between your thoughts and your actions before but, as your mind continued its pondering over the mysterious man, your feet carried you faster and you became more goal-oriented.

“Sir Kim?” You were heaving as you called his name in the chill of the forest air. Your breath came out as puffs of steam while your voice echoed into the emptiness around you.

Your legs carried you deeper into the trees and further from where you knew the open field of the estate to be. In your head, your venturing out was right because you would find him- you would be the one to find Sir Kim Taehyung because you could feel that he wasn’t far.

The further you got, bare feet aching from the cold and cuts already beginning to scatter themselves across the bottoms, the more determined you became. Your search for Sir Kim went unhindered because you knew, deep- deep- down, that you would be the one to find him. You were meant to. He was the one you needed to be with and you felt his pull on your body getting stronger and stronger the more you enveloped yourself into the wilderness of Cordova.

You felt like you were in a determined daze because of how horny your thoughts made you since your awakening. Sir Kim had become the object of your daydreams and dirtiest fantasies in the wake of Seokjin’s absence like the presence of one brother made you also crave the other. The intrusive question you kept asking yourself- Where is Sir Kim?- drove you to the brink of insanity as you cupped a hand over your stomach and ran. You needed him.

Where is Sir Kim?

The thought made you stop and crouch over again so that you could process the increasing levels of your desire while your body pulsed and ached for the man. It only became harder to move as your pussy and stomach squeezed so painfully tight that it was difficult to move your legs apart.

A twig snapped, sharp and deafening in the silence it cut through, and you jerked your head in the direction it came from quickly. The pulse between your legs made your movements faster and hurried in your frustration.

Something within you told you to stay put- don’t run- and it kept you rooted to your spot while you shifted uncomfortably on one knee.

The inner voice that drove you whispered intentions to you, telling you that it was Taehyung without any words. Too much confusion threw your mind off and prevented you from being able to focus on anything for too long. Whatever came over you was ensuring that any common sense you hoped to retain went flying out the window.

Because he was near you; you felt the burning heat of his presence all the way down to your bones. How could you focus when you were moments away from finally reuniting with him?

It felt like countless lifetimes passed since the last time you looked into his golden eyes. You’d seen him mere weeks before, beautiful and warm and utterly forbidden as he stood in the doorway of Seokjin’s manor. It felt as if you’d built an entire foundation upon the man you’d only known the name of.

Why?

A low growl emanated from somewhere in the darkness and you found the remnants of Seokjin's blood blessing still improving your ability to see into the darkness better than you normally could. It allowed you to see the outline of the black, wolf-like creature with its golden eyes- along with its blown-out pupils- watching you.

The eyes of Apollo.

The intensity of his stare was divine and sacred as it tore through your soul, picking apart each piece to rearrange them into true completion once more. Your body pulsated and your blood roared with adrenaline in your veins while your heart galloped away in your chest. Something else roared in your mind and drove your body to its knees as you regarded Sir Kim in his true form.

There was a deep-sat knowledge within you, a calling that pushed your body to adhere to its instincts, and a fresh rush of wetness burst from your cunt to run down the expanse of your bare thighs while your mind submitted to Sir Kim Taehyung in the most unnatural of ways.

"Alpha." You breathed, the word feeling wholly alien yet nostalgic on your tongue.

Why did you call him that?

It seemed to incite the energy in the wolf to spring forward and phase mid-air into the man you were searching for.

Bare, caramel skin and dark hair flew towards you and you smiled all the same at the revelation of what Sir Kim was. With excitement forcing the moan from between your lips, you opened your arms and welcomed his naked, attacking form into your embrace.

He pulled back his lips while he let out a snarl so loud that it overwhelmed your ear drums when he pushed you to your back on the forest floor, yet you still smiled into his bared teeth at the feeling of his burning hot skin covering yours. You weren’t scared of him because you had no reason to be.

“Taehyung,” You finally whispered his true name to let him know that you meant no harm while you took in his scent of charred wood and ash. With you saying his name right in front of him, you could see from his shiver that the sound of his name affected him just as much as it affected you- if not more. “I’m here.”

“Pup.” He let his nose press into your cheek while he moaned lowly into your jaw. The sound shot straight to your toes and you curled them into the dirt below. Your fingers held onto his bare ribs as he dug his nails into the ground by your head and leaned down to press his nose into your skin.

“Oh, pup.” He repeated huskily, breath fanning against your neck. “My Luna.”

“Oh.” You breathed, both in understanding and pleasure, as he pressed his open mouth against the side of your neck with his tongue out.

He took one swipe, then two, and then maneuvered your body into his lap and your gown rode up your legs as they spread to welcome him between them.

Your blood pumped away in your flesh, something you had no doubt that he could hear, and you tried to breathe slowly to calm yourself. The effort only made him return his mouth to yours.

Instead of going for a kiss like you thought, he opened his mouth and inhaled your exhales. Perfectly in sync with your breathing pattern, he took every breath you gave him as you tried to relax. Every inhale you took, he let his own exhale wash over your palate.

“Good.” Taehyung mumbled. His eyelids fluttered. “So good.”

You stared down at his lidded golden eyes- it was hard see the yellowish color past the drastic dilation of his pupils- as you let him graze his lips on yours and slot his body carefully onto your stomach so that you could feel his pulsing cock resting against your hip. Taehyung seemed to hungrily gulp down every breath you took and crowded himself closer against you. You were thankful for the manmade furnace in the freezing weather.

For a moment, it was just the two of you breathing together and actualizing each other into reality again. It was peace and it was passion altogether in the moment that you knew to be the quiet before the storm. You knew that Taehyung believed you hadn’t wanted him and it was in this moment that he was figuring out you’d wanted him all along.

His tongue was gentle as he prodded it between your lips, licking onto your teeth as you’d seen wolves do on nature documentaries. Despite your desire to match his efforts, you knew that he still needed a few moments to fully return to a humanly conscious state of mind so that you could give him absolute control over the progression of the situation. What compelled you to give him this control?

Taehyung dipped the tip of his tongue onto the top of yours, gently testing the heat of your mouth and caressing your own hot muscle. With every curl of his tongue, your thighs squeezed against his waist harder and harder.

One particular flick had your pelvic floor painfully convulsing and sending out another dribble of your wetness. In turn, Taehyung responded to your biological reaction with a throaty growl and manhandling of your frame into his arms

“Rut.” He said into your mouth.

You pulled away from him with furrowed eyebrows to communicate your confusion. “What?”

He seemed to struggle for a moment, pulling away just enough so that he could speak yet keep your noses touching at their tips. His eyebrows were drawn downward in an obvious attempt to collect his thoughts.

“‘m in rut.”

You could tell that he struggled with speaking although you didn’t know why.

Did it have something to do with his animal state? What is a rut?

“Rut?” You voiced your question.

He hummed in affirmation. “Like heat.”

You thought for a moment on his nature- what being a wolf actually entailed. Of all of Seokjin’s books you read about werewolves- Lycans- you hadn’t run into anything about ruts. You figured you would’ve seen something about it had you continued reading.

You were left trying to figure it out on your own while he let the tip of his dick drag against your skin.

Wolves were related to dogs. You knew that. Surely they had to be similar, right?

The moment you made the connection between wolves and dogs, you made the connection between ruts and heats.

Kim Taehyung was a bitch in heat.

You winced at the sentiment, knowing the saying was particularly blunt in nature, yet it was your first thought as you figured out just was Taehyung was trying to tell you. Your body soared with lust at the thought.

“Y/N.”

His voice was low and cautious as he slowly let your back drop to the cold ground. It was an omen of the danger that would ensue in the following moments as your nipples peaked with the frigid contact.

You hummed in response to your name when he squeezed his arm behind your back to bring himself closer and kneaded his fingers into the flesh of your shoulder and waist.

“Mate.”

Your hold on his body tightened at the word. “You want to mate?”

He moaned, nodding in a way that made his nose brush against yours, and it is then that you felt his body begin a slow roll into you. Without any panties in the way, his thigh was muscled and rough as it pressed straight onto your pussy lips. The strangled sound emitted from your throat only made him press into you even more.

Sir Kim pulled away suddenly, eyes shining as he shifted them down your trembling body, and reached his hands out to grasp onto your gown. You felt the bite of the early-spring night’s air on your bare skin when he tore it down the middle to reveal you to him as if he was excitedly unwrapping a present. Your clothing tore like it was the most simple thing under his strength.

You were left speechless as he leaned away from you to survey the expanse of your naked body below him. You had no inclination to be insecure under his eyes and you presented yourself willingly to him by widening your legs even further for him to see.

Almost eagerly, he dove down.

Your fingers sunk into his hair just as you had envisioned the first time you saw him and it honestly felt like you had made a premonition back then.

Because he was snarling as he began lapping the fruitful juices of your connection with a tongue that was much wider and less muscly than a human’s- a werewolf’s tongue.

His fingers dug into your flesh possessively as he hunched over your keening body to better his access at your cunt while his nose scrunched up and his eyebrows furrowed over his closed eyes. He treated your pussy as a long-awaited reward.

It wasn’t even a moment later that he was lifting your hips from the ground to mercilessly encase you in his arms to prevent your escape.

Your shoulders stayed on the ground whilst his arms wrapped around your waist to secure your ass to his chest. Like an axe splitting down the middle of a log, Taehyung’s head struck down between your thighs and ferociously attacked your folds. Your loud keen of satisfaction echoed off of the trees around you.

Suspended in the air, your legs flailed as his fat tongue laved over the opening to your cunt repeatedly, fast, rough, and slick with saliva, to snatch up all of the juices you had to offer him. His biceps flexed against your hips and his forearms morphed into iron belts across your belly as your body writhed against him in a wanton display of mild resistance to his obsession.

But you knew that Taehyung wasn’t having it. He would never let you go.

The werewolf’s dick pulsed against your spine, stickiness at his tip clinging to your skin and making you wish that you could taste it. The craving to have him between your lips was only momentary though, because then you felt your juices mixed with his spit beginning to drip over your pubic mound and down to where his arms tied against your stomach. You hadn’t realized that there was so much.

A coil quickly appeared in your pussy, sharp and hot, and it became tighter and warmer with each flick of his tongue over your clit. The slick slide of his tongue into your flesh produced the sound of your body making way for it, which elicited your shudder as the coil got closer to the brink of snapping.

“Taehyung,” Your teeth chattered as you called his name, letting him know just how good he was making you feel. He responded with a gruff moan that rumbled deep in his chest and then tightened his arms around you until you could barely breathe.

Your orgasm was instantaneous with the vibration of his throat against your body. You tied your legs around his head with a trembling breath and allowed yourself to lose care for if he could breathe or not- just for a moment. It was too much to not curl in and grip onto his hair for dear life as your pussy squeezed around his quick tongue.

You moaned to the moon, relishing in the feel of his hands holding you tightly while he groaned into the new flush of your juices on his mouth. Your legs pressing tightly against the sides of his head did not seem to hinder him in the slightest. Instead, he eagerly sucked in and gulped what you gave until your were licked clean once more.

“Tae,” You breathed, hoping to draw him away from your increasingly sensitive clit, however, it didn’t seem to phase him at all. His grip around your body and his fierceness against your sensitivity did not change at the sound of his name.

For the next few minutes, you laid in his grasp, partially suspended in the air with twitching legs as he got his fill through your orgasms. Each pass of the werewolf's tongue got more mind-boggling than the last until you knew for absolute fact that your pussy was becoming raw- it was becoming so raw that tears began building up in your eyes.

A particularly harsh orgasm born from your painpleasure is what drove you to begin pulling him by the hair away from your body and pushing against his forehead. You could hardly take another second of the onslaught. He didn't budge at all against your inferior strength.

"Sir Kim," Your teeth chattered as you tried to stop gritting your teeth. "I don't know if I can-"

The man cut you off with an animalistic growl, possessively digging his fingers into your waist to keep you firmly planted against his chest, and you swallowed thickly as you felt your blood rushing to your head even harder because of how your circulation was becoming pressurized by his grip on you. You scrambled against him, whimpering as you grabbed onto his arms to try and peel them from around you while your legs struggled to find a way to separate him from your sensitivity.

Your lips were dry as you gasped. “Taehyung, please. I-” You hiccuped and cut yourself off again as he leaned down to press his mouth even tighter into you. It resulted in your shoulders getting shoved into the dirt even harder and your back bowing even more drastically than before. “Oh.”

Your clit was weeping against the rough texture of Sir Kim’s tongue. It cried out to you and begged you to pull away from his feverish licking, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop because it felt so sinfully good. All you were missing was Seokjin’s impossible depth.

Where is Seokjin?

The thought broke you out of your stupor for a moment and, almost as if he heard your thought, Taehyung pulled away to growl angrily.

“No. My pup.”

With little care, the werewolf unwrapped his arms from your waist and let you drop to the ground. Fully ready to leave in order to save your body from the painfully blissful sensitivity, you began scrambling away. The leaves underneath your arms scratched uncomfortably against your skin as you turned around to get up and start running.

“No,” He repeated, accompanying the sound with a large hand wrapped around your ankle. It was too easy for him to pull you back to him and into the fires of his bond. “Mate.”

His body fell on top of yours and trapped you into the ground while his heart beat wildly against your back. Again, the heat of his skin was welcome to fight off the cold, but you didn’t know if you were prepared to take any more of his obvious need that sat upon your ass.

You whimpered then and the sound was not the same as your usual sex-driven sound. There was something unnatural about it. Odd. It almost sounded… animal.

“Mate.” The Lycan grunted again. It was a question. He was asking to continue.

For a moment, you considered the weight of his proposal again.

Taehyung was a blazing inferno of passion and fuck energy. His libido was impossible to gauge, however, you knew that he would fuck the living daylights out of you- you just didn’t know how long he would fuck you for. Could you handle it?

A soft brush of his lips over your shoulder seemed to take away any doubts you had as it stroke shivers up the length of your spine. You were breathing your confirmation before you could second-guess yourself.

“Mate.”

Taehyung was engorged and long as he rutted into one of your asscheeks. Each time his hips surged forward to gain the traction of your skin on his dick, he exhaled sharply into your ear. Your cheek was pressed into the ground and his forehead pressed into your temple to keep you from moving. Another rear back of his hips and a hand lifting you up by the belly and suddenly, his dick was pressed up against your folds without ceasing his back and forth motions.

Your body drooled for him, easily lathering his manhood with a few of his strokes, and you gasped as his soft skin massaged over your weeping clit. The will to mate with him was there, yet the fear of the pain also began seeping into your conscious the more you thought about how large he was.

Would you fit all of him?

Your ass was crushed each time his hips surged into your body and you had the fleeting thought that maybe he was so feverish that he couldn’t process placing himself where he intended to spear into you, however, it was merely fleeting.

Because he lined himself up and begin to split you open without any further pomp nor circumstance. Your unnatural amount of natural lube was welcome then.

You held your breath as his dick divided your walls like an iniquitously hot poker. A shot of pain had you groaning in discomfort and hoping that, when he bottomed out, the pain would subside.

Your thighs quivered and your nails raked into the ground below you, crunching leaves into your grasp as the tip of him continued to sink deep- deeper- than you thought you could go. Never before had you felt such a depth become reached by someone’s dick- Seokjin’s tongue didn’t count.

When his hips met your ass again, you were all but lightheaded as he slumped further into you, completely trapping you against the ground. You felt his chest expand and contract against your back as he somehow gathered his thoughts enough to give you the time you needed to adjust to him.

Your breaths came harshly, small whimpers elicited from your lips with each movement he made. Almost as if he sensed your need for comfort, he leaned down to shush you gently.

“Mate here.” Taehyung whispered. He lightly pressed his lips to your shoulder. “Ma- I’m… here.”

You exhaled in relaxation almost automatically, a small instinct inside you finding the ability from the support of Taehyung. It was natural.

His cock jumped within you, pulsing as his exhales came out gruffly, and you twitched with the tiny nudges he gave you. Finally, your body was beginning to relax.

Taehyung rutted into you then, impossibly deep and pressing into your womb with a small push that knocked the air out of you so fast that you wheezed sharply. You were afraid to see how far your pussy lips were spread for him.

The man withdrew and when he returned his hips to your ass with a slight jerk at the end, you felt his body trembling fervently against you. Whatever mercy he had given you before was dwindling quickly.

Just get the worst part over with.

You clenched your teeth with the thought in mind, preparing to rock your hips back to take him in again, when he slipped himself back into you with a hand holding your waist steady. Again, you couldn’t hope to go anywhere.

“Alpha,” The title slipped past your lips again, whole and true and utterly winsome, without you giving it any prior thought.

He is your Alpha, you told yourself. The sensation only made you give in to his movements even more.

The wolf’s groan in satisfaction of his recognition must have driven him even further from reasoning because he drew back and surged forward again.

“My pup. Mine.”

Without your hesitation in the way and the pain of his cock diminishing from your walls, you began slipping back into the daze of your first mating with him.

Because you were an animal then, bare and wild and utterly devoted to your life mate that speared into you while he protected you from the freezing conditions of the mountain. It was undeniable that you were becoming reduced to something vicious and savage each time Taehyung pulled out to return faster than the last time.

The next time he drove forward, his cock head punched into your belly like a hammer, and he thrust so hard that you lost the air in your lungs once more. Still, you felt the need building into your mind like you were going into heat and his gradual increase of speed would kill you.

You needed him to obliterate you. Completely.

“Alpha, I need you.” You whimpered as you felt a rush of your juices escape from around his girth and spill down your legs. “Please.”

Instead of responding with words, Taehyung acknowledged your need with a new rhythm that rocked your body harshly into the ground. As breathless as you were, you still managed to release a broken cry to the woods as you stretched your arms above your head and let your chest get pressed into the ground.

Taehyung’s tip battered against your walls like it meant to permanently plant itself there if it could just manage to ensure its root in your womb. His hands ensured that you could not hinder him from achieving that.

His cock was thick, almost muscular, as it dragged in and out of your sensitivity. Out of pure, sexually aroused curiosity, you lowered your hand to your abdomen to press your palm into your skin.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

There was no way you imagined it. The werewolf's cock was so large that you didn't think it would surprise you to feel it literally bulging out of your skin, yet your eyes still rolled back in sexual mania when you felt it nudging against your palm through your belly. How was your body even handling it? He was literally rearranging your guts.

Taehyung emitted growl after growl with each of his thrusts, showcasing just how much effort he was putting into sending you to oblivion.

Your back ached from the force of his hips striking into your ass, and he seemed to notice this, so he reached a hand below your belly to slightly raise your lower half from the ground.

Sweat dripped down your forehead and neck due to your effort of accommodating your alpha’s thick cock, but he didn’t let any of it drop to the ground.

All too soon, the Lycan pulled out and flipped you over onto your back so that he could easily access your face with his searching mouth.

Even as he pressed his parted lips to your temple with a small flick of his tongue, his hips still sat themselves right back between your legs, and you felt your slick pussy throbbing desperately for his return to it.

He struggled to voice words and they were so unintelligible that you could mistake them for another growl if you didn’t know any better. The wolf had taken back over his mind and driven him back into the cradles of the wild.

With his hand feverishly guiding himself back into your body, you were free to survey him as he pushed himself to penetrate you again.

His skin glistened in the moonlight, steaming with heat in the cold weather, and his hands were just as hot as his body looked when he used them to grab ahold of your waist and cup your thigh.

Taehyung sat on his heels as he began a slower rhythm, the uncontrollable passion of first mating becoming bearable so that the two of you could enjoy it for the time being. Your mind flashed red and orange as you finally let the fires of his passion consume you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him into you as he kept his beat, and it is when you did so that he pulled away to look you in the eyes for the first time since he began fucking you.

His upper lip pulled back into a snarl every time he thrusted forward and his teeth were much sharper than you remembered when he smiled at you the first time you met him. His eyebrows remained furrowed as he struggled to decide where he wanted to look; his eyes almost vibrated as he looked between your cunt spreading apart to slurp him in, your breasts bouncing with each collision of his body into yours, or your teary eyes as you tried with all of your might to keep them open so as to not miss a single moment.

Glowing in the moonlight, Sir Kim Taehyung was a sight to behold as he fucked your brains out.

Your clit began pulsing torturously all at once. The curve of his dick dragged inside of you just right and his eyes all over you gave you a sense of pride that drove your confidence up into the sky. Of course, a wolf’s tendency to be proud and protective of its mate was becoming known through his gaze.

His golden eyes communicated so many emotions that you were blind to at first, but now that you were really looking at him, you could see everything he wanted to say floating within the dark abyss of his pupils and the scarce amount of his irises still visible.

Everything Taehyung felt was put in front of you as an offering as he leaned down to lick at your bottom lip.

He felt so lucky to have you.

He wanted you so badly.

He loved you.

His eyes told you everything, although you felt that there was something else at play with how specific each emotion became when you read them.

Because that was all you had to do to understand his intent- read him.

The way his left eyebrow twitched. The way he panted with you. The way his fingers trembled as they held your flesh tightly. Every little movement he made seemed to become a language you only needed to read to understand. How you were able to learn his language so quickly?

You let your lips part for another moan as he resumed his furious beat from earlier and your pussy seized his cock as if it was meant to always stay inside you. He held you tighter against his body, cupping your ass in his fingers and palms almost as if to say ‘I got you, pup.’

Your orgasm built quickly with the new revelation.

One moment, you were bathing in his attention and love, and the next, you were locking your ankles behind his back to brace yourself for the oncoming wash of forbidden bliss.

A rumble vibrated in your chest. It was low and it was wholly yours yet unknown. It was the beginning of the climax you sought and it was the absolute end of what you knew to be your normal state of being. Something within you changed in that moment and you began to exist solely for his love and pleasure.

The rumble was an inhuman growl that seemed to match Taehyung’s when he pressed himself into your cunt with such ferocity that you felt the thickness of what you knew to be the bulb at the base of his dick- his knot. It was the last bit of him you needed to tip over the edge.

“Mate.” He breathed roughly, pushing his knot into your folds more adamantly. “Mate.”

Please, let me knot you.

It wasn’t hard to read the words from his spoken words and movement. Your fear of taking his knot returned and his forehead pressed lovingly onto the top of yours.

Taehyung cupped the underside of your breast. Let me mate you.

He moved his hand down to press into your belly. Let me breed you.

He lowered his panting lips to skim over yours and breathe you in. Let me love you.

You had no more reason to fear him. With his intentions clear, you knew that he would take care of you. He would protect you from anything and everything you feared. In your tiny world of Cordova, Alaska, all that mattered was that he loved you and you were his mate.

With shaky legs, you widened them as your invitation.

The moment his knot successfully bulled into your pussy, you finally let your growl part your cracked lips. You were no longer a human in these moments; you were a Lycan.

At the shift of your humanly paradigm, Taehyung, along with everything around you, became clearer than ever before. The breeze of the mountain separating through the trees and scratching against the bark, the scent of mineral in the earth as it crystallized within the night frost, the light of the moon becoming unnecessary as the vision of your dark night became a midnight day; all of your senses increased to supernatural proportion as Taehyung’s inferno consumed you whole with his invading and swelling knot.

In an explosion that was your first orgasm with the werewolf, you screamed to the sky in a manner similar to that of a divine howl.

Taehyung threw his head back and moaned with you as your walls tightly closed up around his knot, locking him into place further than before. He wrapped his arms around your waist, bit into the flesh of your neck, and ceased his movement with a stutter of his hips to firmly mold his body into yours at every point of touchable skin.

In a scalding torrent of sinful heat, Taehyung’s cum unleashed into you like a hose on full blast, forcefully filling you out until you physically felt it forcing its way through your cervix and into your womb. It was hot and it was plentiful as a look of delirium spread across your face and the two of you rode out your highs.

Each pulse of his dick sent more cum spewing into you and his blockade of a knot kept all of the precious fluid from going anywhere except deeper into your body. The heat of it filling your insides sent a series of shivers along your skin- it didn’t help that every single one of your senses became heightened with your climax. Even with his knot ballooned inside you, you attempted to cant your hips towards him to take it all deeper.

Pressure built in your belly as Taehyung laid atop you for a few moments, yet when he leaned away and looked down at your stomach, you understood that he knew that you felt the pressure.

A strange feeling of mortification, lust, and satisfaction washed over your being when you realized that it was his cum pressuring your body into a slight stretch. Not only did you feel it, but when you followed his gaze to look down at yourself, you could see that there was a slightly distended paunch where you knew his cock to be deeply lodged inside. Somehow, he had plugged himself into you so tightly that your body was left no choice but to accommodate all that he gave no matter the stretch.

And yet, Taehyung still gave more. Bit by bit, ropes of cum added onto the pressure in your belly, little by little. The two of you sat and watched with labored breaths as your stomach, ever so slowly, grew.

“Y/N.” He murmured. You met his eyes after the call of your name and, as you did so, realized that it was the first word he said clearly. The concern in his voice brought you down from your high incredibly fast.

His eyes were back to a beautiful brown as you responded to him. “Taehyung?”

“You…” He furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “You mated with Seokjin?”

As shocked as you were that he knew, you quickly deducted that Taehyung, a werewolf, most likely had the same, uncannily extraordinary sense of smell that the vampire did. He probably could smell the vampire’s blood blessing in your veins.

“I… yes.” You could not lie to him. It felt wrong to lie now that the two of you finally mated.

“I see.” He said. His shoulders visibly sagged with what you figured was disappointment. “Then, why did you mate with me?”

A brief moment of silence passed as you struggled to organize your thoughts. The remnants of your new nature still screamed at you to please him, to love him, to prevent him from feeling upset. Before you could formulate an answer, his facial expression morphed into one of confusion.

“How did you mate with me?”

You mirrored his look with your own confused face. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N,” Ever so lightly, he placed a hand down to your belly. The span of his fingers almost stretched all the way across the enlarged area. “Once mated with one being, the mere thought of getting close to another being is revolting. It would be physically impossible to mate with another, yet…”

Taehyung didn’t finish his sentence. You knew the end of it because it was still very much obvious in the way his dick remained locked inside your body.

“Taehyung, I…” You struggled to find the words to say. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”

Instead, he leaned down quickly and clasped your face in his hands. “You felt it, didn’t you? Our connection- you felt it.” His words were frantic as he brushed his thumb over your cheek and his cock surged with renewed vigor inside you. “You felt what we are. Maybe- nngh-” He groaned as the pressure from within your belly was suddenly released with the deflation of his knot. “Maybe he is not your true mate.”

The cum shoved inside your guts was released all at once, painting your thighs and ass in a flush of fluids. Your legs quaked with the sensation but part of you wished that it would stay inside. What part of you?

The Lycan’s cock pulsed anew and his hips began a slow rock into you again, prompting you to suck in a breath and wrap your arms around his neck in preparation. As tired and fatigued as your body was, you wanted more.

There was no other desire but to be with him and be his. Blearily, you jerked your head up to look at where your bodies began the dance of rejoining again and again and found the sticky residue of his release clinging to not only your thighs but his hips and lower abdomen. Every time he separated from your body, a webbing of his cum joined the two of you together, making the mess of your joining even sloppier.

“Tae,” You whispered, looking up at him.

Gold seeped back into his irises and you watched as his pupils dilated once more. He was still in his rut.

“I’ll make you mine.” He grit the sentence through his teeth as he grabbed onto your hips.

“You- you have to be mine.”

Kim Seokjin heard the two of you before he saw you.

The squelch of your pussy taking in a dick. The labored breathing of two people. The moans you attempted to release only came out as a shudder of an exhale. He couldn’t even imagine how long Taehyung had been fucking his cum into you.

The vampire stopped mere yards from where the two of you found each other and, in your mindless frenzy for each other, neither of you seemed to notice his presence. He scowled through the awestruck lust at the thought of all the trouble the hormonal wolf put him through to get here.

After Taehyung’s scent disappeared across the bay in the direction of the estate, Seokjin knew he had been played by the beast that controlled his brother. He knew that the beast was going after you.

Seokjin came upon the sight he had been wishing for since he first accepted his old friend as your mate.

Your naked bodies lay on the ground amongst the pine needles and leaves, your back to his chest, as Taehyung took you from behind. One of his hands held your neck, craning it upward so that he could mouth at the skin. The other held your leg out and open so that he could spread your pussy wide for his cock.

Seokjin stared, salivating at the vision of your pussy gaped so much that the man’s knot could slightly press into you with every hard, punishing stroke of his hips. Cum already dribbled out of it and messily covered the insides of your thighs, evidence of the fact that Taehyung had already had you over and over again since he lost the vampire on the wild goose chase.

Your eyes were glazed over and your mouth was devoid of any sound while you succumbed to the throes of ultimate, obsessive passion. Taehyung’s lips curled back and pressed against the skin behind your ear as he growled with the possessiveness of an in-rut wolf.

“More.” You had managed to whisper. “Give me more. I need… more.”

The werewolf’s mind was so far gone into the mindset of the beast that even the simplest of sentences was difficult to comprehend. The sounds he produced were guttural and raw, hardly intelligible. “More. Give… more. Mate… more.”

With a snarl, Taehyung picked up his rhythm almost violently. Seokjin watched as you lost your mind again with the pleasure blinding you from any other sensation. Naked body bathed in the moonlight with sweat coating every inch of your skin, you were completely helpless to becoming the perfect, bred bitch for Sir Kim Taehyung.

Seokjin stood as still as any vampire could stand while he watched, enraptured. You took in Taehyung greedily, body naturally adjusting to the cock it was made to take. He watched as Taehyung sunk his canines into the puncture wounds that already existed on your neck. If Taehyung hadn’t given you his venom before, he surely did now.

Seokjin was too late. You were about to become a Lycan and nothing could stop it. A vampire bite wasn’t enough to turn one into a vampire, but the humans were right when they spread werewolf-bite propaganda; just as one would contract rabies from the bite of a rabid dog, one would contract lycanthropy from the bite of a Lycan.

The vampire supposed he was okay with having a Lycan as a Fated One.

He watched as the werewolf pushed his knot into you right before it swelled and locked into place. He watched as your eyes rolled back into your head while the sound of Taehyung’s cum spurting into your womb filled his ears. He watched as your body shuddered and you came to firmly lock the shapeshifter’s knot in you.

He especially watched when your navel became slightly round due to the impossibly large rutting load that the beast shoved through your cervix.

Seokjin felt boneless as he watched the two of you pass out. He went numb as he dropped to his knees and felt all of his stored blood rush straight to the tip of his cock. For a brief few seconds, his mind truly blanked and he thought of nothing but pure bliss at the sight of you orgasming so strongly.

When he came to again, he was weakly leaning up against the tree with cum filling the inside of his trousers. Watching you become satisfied in the way you were was so rewarding to him that he came untouched, yet again.

Happiness filled him to the brim, both his Fated One and his longtime friend had finally found the bond they were searching for with each other. Your joy and passion became his, along with his relief that his brother no longer suffered the self-induced rejection.

Until you, Seokjin never imagined sharing his lovers. Through his few hundred years of sexual abstinence due to his withdrawn nature as a vampire, the idea of sharing his Fated One with another was one he never foresaw. Now that you, the missing part of his soul, came to him in a package that involved another mate, his heart was forced to accept the fact that he would have you in any way that he could- even if you were a Lycan.

Seokjin had all the time in the world to get himself together and brush off the dirt from his pants. The forest was quiet as he carefully approached you in your satiated slumber. Although the both of you had passed out, he knew that the werewolf would awaken at any moment after detecting a scent that did not belong.

Right on cue, the were stirred with an exhausted and defensive growl in his throat. He was still in his rut and very sensitive to movement in a place where there shouldn’t have been.

“Taehyung,” The vampire called as he took another step closer. “Are you in there?”

The werewolf’s gaze was golden as he tried to ward off the intruder with his warmongering eyes. The sound of his own name seemed to barely scratch through the surface of his haze.

The vampire knew the predicament well. “Taehyung, if we don’t take Y/N back to the house, she will get sick. It is too cold for her to stay out here.”

The utterance of your name drew the man from within and pushed the beast to the side easily; only the human side could care for you. The beast was incapable of tending to any needs past the desire for mating, food, and protection.

“Can’t move. Knot.” Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows as his mind struggled to catch up with the fact that he was intelligent again. The sentence he thought he was going to produce went from complete to severely fractured during its journey from his head to his mouth.

“How long before it dispels?” Seokjin wanted to look anywhere but at where Taehyung’s body rooted snugly inside of you to allow his brother some privacy but his eyes were so drawn to the sight of your thoroughly fucked body that he couldn’t help it.

The werewolf grumbled. “Don’t know. Minutes. Many.”

You shifted in your position uncomfortably with a small whine of annoyance. The more canine side of Taehyung rushed to comfort you, loving how much you had begun to sound like one of his kind. He growled lowly in his throat to give you the reply of assurance you needed to fall back asleep.

Seokjin frowned at the plight, knowing very well that Taehyung was also attempting to figure out how to move you without disturbing you. It was particularly difficult for him to think at all, frankly, when his Fated One sounded like a werewolf.

“Did you give her your venom?” Seokjin could smell the sour odor of his brother’s potent saliva, yet your scent remained untainted aside from the fact that some of the were’s venom was circulating in your blood stream. None of it had actually taken into your true scent.

Although Taehyung was still catching his brain up to speed, he still understood Seokjin’s confusion. “Yes.”

Your body was warmer than average, but nothing more than a slight fever caused by the natural reaction to fight off a virus, and the vampire became stumped- by now, you’d be running more than ten degrees hotter and your canines would be manifesting within your jaws.

“She has not begun the transition yet.” Seokjin observed.

Taehyung felt guilty for giving you the bite, but his beast gained too much control at the last moment and gave in to the urge to turn you before he could stop it. Instead of addressing the matter of guilt, he contributed to Seokjin’s confusion.

“Would have taken her. Something not right.”

For a moment, Seokjin thought about the nature of their bond with you. He tossed several ideas over in his head but came to no solid conclusion.

Then, a line in a certain book, given to him by Jeon Jeongguk, flashed before his eyes. If he could just find the damned book, he could understand the inkling of what he suspected a little better.

“Or…” The vampire trailed off, deep in thought. “Or everything is right.”

The icy breeze slowed to a standstill around them.

Happy Birthday to our Werewolf Daddy, Kim Taehyung!

366 notes · View notes