#she deserves better instead of just being dismissed and taken out of everything!!! jeez!

[maryibgarry102]

looking up stuff to try and see if amy is gonna be in the third sonic movie and having to see people being like "amy shouldn't be in the third movie" "should amy really be in the third movie?" And i just gotta say i hate y'all. She should be in the movie, she's been around for way longer than Shadow and the only concern isn't her presence, but is hoping the writers don't fuck up her character by making it more about "liking sonic" than how he inspires her to do more and be more as a person, to help people. How she's compassionate and loud and willing to fight for what she believes in. Plus, in sonic adventure 2 she has a moment with shadow where she, in pleading for him to help save everyone and give them a chance at growing and finding happiness, reminds him of maria. And that is what finally helps him move past this idea that the world isn't worth saving, that he doesn't want to be controlled by his pain but to overcome it and do what he really wants--helping people, just like he promised maria he would, but finally in the way she really wanted. Like. Y'all are so boring for not wanting amy in the movie istg, get out of your "she's the girly character who likes sonic and is annoying and that's it" mindset cause at that point you're just accepting and perpetuating shitty writing of her character instead of wanting the best for her character, which is something she DESERVES after being flanderized so many fucking times

[yellowsugarwords]

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Party Time”

Title: Party Time Characters: Clementine, Marlon, Louis, Violet, Minerva, Duck, Brody Summary: In a high school au, Clementine, the new shy girl, ends up at a high school party with Duck the jock, Marlon the edgy boy, and Louis the theatre kid. Slowly developing feelings for Clementine, Marlon and Louis scheme to get Duck out of the picture with Clementine remains completely oblivious. The entire time, Violet and Minerva watch everything unfold from the sidelines. Author's Note: This actually turned out so great omggggg I’m so HAPPY with it Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

Clementine hated parties. More so, she hated the people that were at said parties.

Before she had moved, that was all that kids in her school did: got drunk, got high, repeat. They were never interested in art, or books, or film. Nothing like what she was into. She stuck out like a sore thumb.

She had hoped that Savannah would be different but so far, seeing as she had only been there for a week and a half and already she was invited to a “we won a single football game and therefore need to all get drunk” party, her hope was dissipating quickly.

Unlike any other school she had ever been to, there weren’t set cliques: the cool kids, the smokers, the rocker kids, etc. Instead, here, everyone was mixed in. The average clique had a bit of everything, and Clementine couldn’t tell if she loved or hated it.

Realistically, it meant she had a better chance of finding a group to hang out with. However, the added stress of not having an obvious target group to seek out was daunting. Where did one seek to find their place in a school where everyone already had it figured themselves out?

Within her first few minutes at the party, Clem could tell she was in for trouble. Everyone had already sorted themselves out into their respective groups, and she sat in the middle of a coach, talking to nobody, sipping away at her lemon water like a total idiot.

“Dude, have you seen the new girl yet?”

Marlon could feel his shoulder rattle as Louis jostled it. “New girl?” Marlon groaned, adjusting the earring that the contact had tugged at. Maybe it was because Louis was the school’s prized theater kid, but he had a tendency to be exuberant with every motion. The charm of it was what originally had drawn them to one another, but more often than not these days, Marlon just found it to be grating.

Louis turned, giving Marlon a skeptical once over. “You mean you haven’t?”

Marlon stared at him, brows raised, confused at the weird way he was acting. “No, I haven’t. Can you chill out? It’s just a girl. Who cares.”

“You should and I do,” Louis scoffed, his shirt fabric twinkling under the dim living room lighting. Louis always dressed up when he went anywhere. Theater kids.

His glimmer wasn’t thanks to him alone. The party was hosted at the rich girl’s house — Minerva, head of the art club. Apparently her parents left town for the weekend and put her in charge. It was big news around school that they hadn’t taken kindly to hearing about her girlfriend, Violet, and Minerva made a big spectacle about her “revenge house party” to get back at them.

A high school student body didn’t need a reason to party, but for revenge? As if any of them would say no.

Marlon rolled his eyes. “I’m not interested.”

“In girls? Guys? Or do you mean you’re not interested in anybody?”

Marlon gave him a daring look. To anyone else, the look would be horrifying, seeing as head-to-toe Marlon was dressed like he was out to kill — black jeans, a leather jacket, thick black boots and a chain earring on his left ear — but it didn’t phase Louis. It never did. He knew what a softie the guy was, despite his dark exterior.

“Come on,” Louis groaned. “She’s sitting right there on the couch. Just look.” Flicking Marlon’s cheek, pushing his stare in the right direction, Marlon finally set his sights on the girl of the hour.

He swirled his drink in his palm as he studied her, taking in the awkward way she was sitting on the couch, wedged between a couple making out and a two girls taking a hoard of Snapchat selfies and deleting every one. She didn’t seem comfortable, and she stuck out like a sore thumb in her jean overalls and lemon-print t-shirt.

Despite the flit of his lip — the way it faintly tugged upward as he studied her — he turned back to Marlon and forced his expression to become cold again. “She’s alright.”

Louis scoffed, fiddling with the unbuttoned buttons on his shirt. “Right, I’m sorry, I forgot that you only like girls with three layers of eyeliner and piercings from head-to-toe.”

Marlon shot him a glare.

Louis accepted it. He wasn’t about to act like he didn’t deserve it, but he also wasn’t about to act like he wasn’t right.

“She doesn’t seem happy. How am I supposed to know what she’s like from staring at the uncomfortable way she’s sitting?”

Louis smirked, picking up on every part of his attempted cover-up. His gaze turned back to the couch and his relaxed, teasing body began to stiffen. Marlon, whose focus was stuck to him, shifted to see what, or who, he was staring at.

The couple on Clementine’s left separated from what felt like the decades of sucking at each other's faces. Peeling away, Louis and Marlon could both see that it was the head of the football team - nicknamed Duck - and the head of the debate team, Brody.

“Excuse me?” Brody snapped, her gaze harrowing in on the male.

Duck shrugged, taking hold of her hips as he attempted to tug her closer, wanting to place her back on his lips.

She scoffed, forcing him away harder this time. “I said no, creep. Stop trying to shove your hand down my pants.”

Duck scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Come on, loosen up a little—”

Once again, Brody swatted his hand away. “No means no, asshole.” She scoffed, pushing herself to her feet and trotting away, fixing her hair as she went.

Even though they were a decent distance away, and could only just barely make out what the two were saying, Louis and Marlon could very clearly see Duck call her a bitch. Louis scoffed, leaning back into the wall. “What an ass.”

“What else is new?” Marlon scoffed, taking another swing of the event’s cheap beer. Although Minerva’s family had money, her and Violet had a limited budget. The event was purely for popularity. As if they were going to spend decent money to get party-goers anything better than the cheapest beer they could get in mass and frail red solo cups. He groaned as it slid down his throat. It was disgusting, but at least it had the promise of keeping him tipsy.

“Hey guys!”

Glancing up from their drinks, over trotted Minerva, dressed up to the nines, with Violet being pulled along behind her. One of the weirdest parts about Violet and Minerva’s relationship was how polar opposite they seemed, and yet how perfectly they got along. Minerva was always dolled up, and always came to school looking like a Barbie fresh out of the packaging — not a hair out of place, not an item of clothing smudged. On the opposite side, Violet was always late, wore the same outfit 3 days out of the week, and was regularly known to smoke behind the school instead of going to class. Yet somehow, whenever they were together, they fit like the perfect couple.

“Are you guys enjoying the party?” Minerva asked, smile beaming. From slightly to her right, Violet turned to her and smiled, smitten as could be.

Louis smiled. “We are, thanks for hosting Minnie.”

Minnie shrugged and waved her hand, the small solo cup of wine — the least classy thing they had ever seen her with — jostling in her hand. If she was forcing everyone to drink out of solo cups, she was going to as well. That was just the type of person she was. “It’s not a problem. My parents owe me one.”

Throughout their conversation, Marlon didn’t detach his stare from Clementine. Duck, directly at her side, was prowling for his next victim. Marlon could feel his stomach twist watching, and hated what he knew would inevitably occur.

“Marlon?”

Finally, he snapped out of his trance, his gaze dragging from the couch to the girl standing before him. Awkwardly he cleared his throat, turning to Louis for help. All he did was smirk. “Yeah, yeah, the party’s been great.”

Violet turned, peering over her girlfriend’s shoulder and spotting Clementine, staring down at the water cup in her hand and watching it swirl. Violet chuckled. “So, you like Clementine, huh?”

“What?” Marlon scoffed. This would’ve been so much easier if Louis — the socially competent one out of the two of them — would’ve stepped up to help him. “No, that’s not it.”

“Clementine?” Minerva asked, eyeing up Louis. “The new girl?” Louis nodded and gestured behind her and, after swirling around and spotting her, she swiveled back. “Oh her! She seems quiet.”

“She is,” Louis said, nodding. “She hasn't said a word to anyone the entire time she's been here.”

Minerva frowned. “Do you think she’s not having fun?”

“I’m sure she’s just shy, Minnie.” Violet said, jostling her shoulder. “She’s new, she just doesn't know anyone here yet.”

Watching Duck turn, his eyes widening spotting the unarmed girl to his side, Marlon could feel all his relaxed muscles dissipate. “That’s what I’m worried about.” Sensing the attention drift, the rest of their group turned to see what Marlon was analyzing.

Louis, picking up on his friend’s stress, spotted the sight. “Oh jeez,”

“I’m on it,” Violet sighed, patting Minerva on the shoulder and making her way to the couch. Just as Duck was reaching his hand out, ready to tap an unknowing Clementine on the shoulder, Violet wandered up and slapped the male on the leg. “Wrestle me.”

Duck scoffed, eyeing up Violet hesitantly. The two of them had been teamed up on sports since elementary school — anywhere from basketball to badminton — so Violet challenging him was nothing new. But in the middle of a party? That was new. “Wrestle you?” He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Vi. I’m not about to embarrass you in front of everyone.”

Violet felt her eyebrow twitch. Despite being in school with him for years, she still knew he was an ass. “Come on, Duck. Grow a pair, huh?”

That did it, and Violet knew it would.

Duck scoffed, heaving himself to his feet. “Backyard. Let’s go.”

Violet smirked, crossing her arms cheekily and starting for the back doors.

The buzz of the match swept through the living room, and while a handful of people slipped out to watch, Louis and Marlon weren’t some of them.

Minerva sighed. “Well, I guess I’d better go keep an eye on that.” Lifting a hand, giving the two a little wave, she gathered Violet’s abandoned cup and started for the door. “Talk later!” She called over her shoulder.

Just as she vanished, Louis jostled Marlon’s arm. “Let’s go talk to her.”

“Talk? To Clementine?”

“Yes!” Louis scoffed, arms waving, his rum and coke jostling. “There’s no Duck getting in the way, we can finally go and see what she’s like.”

Marlon said nothing, only faintly scrunched his nose and wavered from foot to foot.

Louis scoffed, tugging on his friend’s jacket and jumping down to the now-vacant seat on the couch. There was only the one, seeing as the girls clouding the other side weren’t too interested in watching an unprofessional wrestling match out back, but Louis decided the proximity wouldn’t bother either of them. Hopefully, it wouldn’t bother her.

“You’re Clementine, right?” He asked, speaking before sliding himself down into the spot beside her.

She glanced up, blinking meekly at the two towering before her. As suspected, her shoulders curled at Marlon’s appearance. “Yeah? Do I know you guys?” Her voice was so soft over the music, like it was made of glass. It made Louis want to hold them. It made Marlon, even more so, want to keep Duck and his grimy hands away from her.

“Probably not,” Louis offered with a faint chuckle, watching as Marlon took a seat in front of her on the coffee table, clutching his beer can between his legs. “We just noticed you were sitting all alone and wanted to bring some company. You’re new, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed faintly. “I just moved from Roswell.”

Louis smiled. “Welcome to Savannah. I hope our classmates haven’t brought you too much trouble.”

Clementine gave a small smile, shrugging her shoulders, her stature loosening given their pleasant conversation. “No, but I think they’re going to be bringing each other a bit of it.”

Marlon gave a faint smile. “Yeah, that’s kinda Duck’s style.”

“Violence?” Clem questioned.

“No, trouble.”

Clementine smiled, a giggle escaping her. Marlon and Louis, although it was only for a flicker, made eye contact. They agreed, silently, that it was the cutest sound they’d ever heard.

“So, have you talked to a lot of people here?”

Clementine’s smile faded slightly. “No, I’m not really great when it comes to putting myself out there.”

“You came tonight,” Louis said with a shrug, tapping Marlon on the knee to back him up. “That’s putting yourself out there, especially in a new city.”

Marlon nodded, swirling his beer can passively. “That’s already a step above a lot of people. Give yourself some credit,”

Clementine’s eyes widened faintly, so faintly that Louis couldn’t see under the dim lighting, but Marlon — the one meeting her gaze — could. “You think?”

Marlon smiled. It was cute how innocent she was when it came to social interaction. “Of course,” he offered, a chuckle escaping. “You’re doing great. You’re talking to us, aren’t you?”

Louis smiled, impressed at how swiftly his friend was taking to her. Although, they both knew that was largely in part thanks to Clementine being easy to talk to and not due to Marlon’s social skills improving. “Yeah,” Louis furthered. “You’ve already made 2 new friends.”

Clementine turned, mouth propped open, as if ready to question the statement. Just as she was about to speak, just as she was about to question if they were being serious, she was silenced.

“Sorry boys, I believe that’s my seat.”

Glancing up, the three spotted Duck, covered in grass stains. His arms were crossed, and his toothy grin gleamed even through the faint lighting. Violet, also covered in grass stains, was standing a few paces behind him being tidied up by Minerva, too preoccupied to notice.

“I believe this is a party, and people can sit wherever they want.” Louis countered.

Marlon rolled his eyes, taking a long swing of beer. Duck wasn’t worth the effort it took to belittle him, but he’d be damned if they were about to give up their spot next to Clementine for Duck to swipe it.

“I called spot check,” Duck claimed, arms crossed.

Louis scrunched his nose. Duck knew Louis was a stickler for party rules. Spot checking? That was rule number 1, and they all knew Louis wasn’t about to break it. With a huff, he shot up to his feet. “Fine,” he scoffed. “Come on Clementine,”

“Oh no no no,” Duck said, his hand latching onto Louis’ shoulder just as he was helping Clem to her feet, and just as Marlon stood to assist in their transition. “She stays.”

Clementine immediately tensed. Even though he wasn't looking at her, Marlon could feel it. “Ease off Duck, she’s allowed to go wherever she wants.” He snapped, feeling a twitch of rage. He spoke about her as if she was a potted plant rather than a person.

Duck scoffed, releasing Louis. “Nice to know that when Marlon finally speaks it’s to show support for feminism,” he laughed. “Nice to see you supporting your own kind.”

Marlon furrowed his brows. Just when he thought Duck couldn’t make himself look like a bigger ass, he went ahead and did it.

“Duck, just knock it off, okay?” Louis scoffed, arms out, pleading with the guy. “We’re all here to have a good time. There’s no need for you to start acting like an asshole.”

“Excuse you?”

Marlon smirked. “Sorry, he meant to say that you never stopped acting like an asshole.” Marlon could tell that one made Clementine’s shoulders tense even more. A part of him felt bad that she was tossed in the middle of all this.

“Excuse you?” Duck asked, leering toward the male. “Rich talk coming from the quiet kid,”

Marlon didn’t flinch, even when Clementine slithered farther behind him. Maybe it would be better for her to just go home. Maybe coming to the party was a mistake. Just as she started for the door, ready to set down her cup and get out, she was spotted.

“Awe, come on girly, where ya going?” Duck called, causing her motions to freeze. “Are the weirdos freaking you out? Don’t worry,” forcing himself between the two of them, he reached out for her. “I’ll keep you awake from them.”

Turning around, feeling a hand creep up on her back and shoulder, Clementine could feel her skin crawl. Could she force him away? Would he listen? He sure hadn’t been listening to anyone else who had been telling him off. What made her any different?

“That’s enough of that, asshole.”

Clementine watched as Marlon jetted his elbow into Duck’s side, causing his grip on her shoulder to vanish. Just as the grip was lost, Louis swept up beside her, making sure to hold his hands out in front of her, demonstrating that he didn’t mean harm. “Are you okay?” He hushed.

Clementine said nothing, she was too worried and shaken. Instead, she just nodded.

It was then, staring at the terrified quiver in her eyes, did Louis realize just how different she was. Just how much better she was than the rest of the school.

At first glance, they’d approached Clementine because she was cute. It didn’t take long for them to realize that she was more than that. She was special. In a city full of stuck up teens, and in a high school that promoted pompous popularity over generosity, Clementine brought a stark contrast to it all.

They didn’t want to flirt with her. Hell, the two of them didn’t even want to date her. They wanted to keep her safe. They wanted to keep her away from the cruel world of high school. As far as they were concerned, they were there to save her.

“Come on Clem,” Louis said, taking her arm and guiding her away. “We’ll take you home.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, voice wavering and fragile. “I don’t want to take you guys away.”

“We don’t care about being here,” Marlon said, whisking the front door open and placing a hand on Clem’s shoulder as Louis guided her out. “We’d much rather walk you home than stay with this mess.”

Clementine’s eyes widened as she was escorted out of the house, one of the boys on either side of her. For the first time since she had entered that night, she felt safe. She felt as if someone had her back.

It was then, as the two guided her down the street back to her home, did she know that Savannah was going to be different from Roswell. Savannah was going to feel like home.

Because finally, finally, she had friends. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

[foxykey]

Helping Hand

Sure, the favor is pretty huge, but... what’re friends for?

Rated: M (smut)

Two-thirty a.m. Sunday night - or rather, technically, Monday morning - found Yoo Jinmi sat cross-legged on the floor with a can of beer getting progressively warmer in one hand. She had promised herself that she would only stop in to her friends’ for a short while and then get home early to do her laundry and maybe even study a bit for her classes the next day.

Instead, she sat across from Yoongi, the only two survivors of the game they’d been playing for the past hour. It had begun as a large group, excited for the drinking game, and had progressively dwindled until everyone else had either gone home or knocked out - either drunk, bored, or both.

The game was simple enough: hold up one hand, first one to put down all their fingers - something that happened whenever the statement made applied to them - lost and the last to do so won the round.

In the beginning, Jinmi tracked an average hit-or-miss game with the questions ranging from wild accusations to try and pin one specific player to very basic generalizations to affect as many people as possible. Things like, “I’ve seen a laser show,” or, “I’ve celebrated an anniversary.”

Then, as the alcohol started taking more and more of an effect, the statements started become much more sexually explicit. People stopped trying to generalize and focused more on digging out the extreme or kinky stuff. “I’ve had a threesome.” “I’ve cheated on a significant other.” “I’ve had sex in a public place.”

This was when Jinmi’s middle-of-the-road answering had ground to a halt. Each question came and went without a single finger dropped. The few players remaining were, for the most part, pretty wasted and not paying too much attention anymore.

But not Yoongi.

Of course he noticed pretty quickly that as soon as the subject matter changed to sexual experiences, Jinmi’s fingers remained lifted. He had waited to say anything until only themselves, Jin, and Jin’s girlfriend were left playing - and/or conscious - and she was thankful he didn’t expose her in front of some of other people she wasn’t as close to or comfortable with.

It had become a game of Make Jinmi Lower a Finger rather than a back and forth as it had been before. Yoongi had begun still caught up in the scandalous train of thought that had overtaken the later half of the original game, his questions more on the risqué side: “I’ve had a one night stand.” “I’ve had sex in a club bathroom.” “I’ve fooled around in any way in public.”

To which Jinmi responded: “Nope, nope, nope.”

Jin had grown bored of this quickly and he’d bid them goodnight before urging his girlfriend to his room, leaving just the two of them to their devices.

Jinmi called a goodnight after them, but Yoongi hadn’t turned his attention away at all, too caught up in trying to bring her down.

He was progressively lowering the bar, throwing out options it was clear he thought were much more common or plausible.

“Okay,” he said, tapping a finger against his beer can a he thought. He only had two fingers left up on his opposite hand so he had to choose his wording carefully. “I… I’ve been fingered while in the room with someone else.”

“I just said I haven’t done anything public,” Jinmi reiterated, giving her friend a pointed look.

“That’s not in public. You could be home and have friends over and get a little frisky under some pillows or something. That’s in your house.”

“Well, no to that, too. Nope.”

“I’ve had break-up sex.”

Jinmi wiggled all five fingers still going strong. Yoongi grunted, displeased, and lowered one more finger before taking a swig of his beer. She barked a laugh at him.

“I’ve masturbated with someone else home.” Then, when he got no reaction from what he obviously considered to be a given, “Seriously? What the fuck? Nothing?”

“Ew, no,” she grimaced, frowning. “Who would masturbate when someone else is home?”

“Fucking I do. What the fuck? Everyone who lives with another person does. How have you not? How about when you lived at home with your parents?”

Her grimace intensified. “No! Oh my god, no. How embarrassing. Gross.”

“How is that gross?” Yoongi asked, shaking his head at her in disbelief. “You’re a fucking prude.”

“Whatever.” It wasn’t the first time she’d been called that nor did she imagine it would be the last. Jinmi had long ago accepted that she missed the boat where everyone got cool with talking about sex or being overly affectionate in public. “Are we done here? Can I just win already?”

“No,” he stated firmly. “Not until you put a finger down. Even if it means getting super fucking basic, like: I’ve had an orgasm.”

Jinmi looked away and swallowed hard, but she didn’t lower any fingers.

A short pause. “I said, I’ve had an orgasm.” When there still was nothing, Yoongi pressed, “Any orgasm. Just an orgasm.”

She could feel a blush scorching her cheeks. “I heard you, all right? No. No fingers down, god.”

He was obviously blown away by this confession, blinking in shock, mouth parted. “You’ve never had an orgasm? Not even by yourself? Have you never-”

“Yes, I’ve… diddled,” she cut him off, feeling her blush spread to her neck and ears.

“Do you mean that you’ve masturbated?” Yoongi clarified, lifting a brow at her word choice.

“Diddled.”

“Flicked the bean?”

“I’ve diddled, it just never gets anywhere! Jeez!” she exploded.

“How…?”

Jinmi shrugged. “I don’t know, I get bored. It just isn’t that great.”

“Then you’re doing it wrong,” he said with a huff.

“How can you do it wrong? You… touch the thing… You try to put your…” She wiggled her finger with a hum, “into… stuff…”

“Well, no wonder you’ve never cum, you’re the most repressed fucking person I’ve ever met,” Yoongi snorted.

She sat up, offended. “I am not repressed!”

“‘You try to put your hmm into stuff?’” he repeated sardonically.

Jinmi just clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Well, what else was I supposed to say?”

“That you fuck yourself with your fingers.”

“Oh my god! Shut up!” she demanded, turning beet red and looking around as if one of their passed out friends around them was suddenly going to come to and overhear.

Yoongi motioned at her entire being with his beer. “Repressed.”

“I am not repressed, okay? I just don’t like talking about crass stuff like that.”

“Repressed.”

“I’m civilized! And not rude! Unlike you, you big pottymouth perv.”

“Fucking repressed.” He grinned at her cheekily with this last and she glared at him before dismissing him. All of their friends swore, but Yoongi cursed like a sailor and it had taken a little getting used to on Jinmi’s part when she first met him. Yoongi backtracked to their previous conversation without a segue. “But that’s impossible for you never to have cum. I know you’re not a virgin. You’ve had boyfriends. How have you never had an orgasm?”

Jinmi shrugged again, picking at a nail. “I don’t know. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal,” he rebuffed.

“Maybe I have and I just didn’t know.”

“Uh, no. You’d know. It’s a pretty unmistakable feeling.”

She rolled her eyes at the same line she’d heard a million times over. “Yeah, yeah, like a sneeze, but better.”

“Fucking not like a sneeze, but better,” Yoongi disagreed again. He shook his head as he recalled the feeling. “Like fucking euphoria. Like electricity has taken root inside the pit of your stomach and heat rushes throughout every vein and everything just explodes and your whole body is just consumed by pleasure. Even a shitty orgasm is amazing. You’d know.”

“Yeah, well, then I guess I’m a freak,” Jinmi snapped sourly, an old sense of self-conscious bitterness overwhelming her for a moment.

“You’re not a freak,” he said and it was the third time he directly contradicted a statement of hers, only this one made her eyes jump up to look at him. His brow was quirked as if he thought she was crazy for assuming that in the first place. “Your exes are all just selfish assholes. How do you not make sure…” He petered off suddenly. “No one has ever eaten you out?”

She gave him another glare. “I’ve had oral sex, Yoongi.”

“And nothing?”

“I mean, it feels good. But just like… eh. Okay. Now what?”

“Then you’re doing it wrong!” he burst in sudden outrage.

Jinmi finally reached her threshold for the topic and stood from the floor, wiping her hands on her pants. “Yeah, well, as riveting as this topic is, it’s late. I’m gonna go. See you later.”

She began picking her way gingerly over the miscellaneous garbage and the few strewn out bodies laid across the floor.

“I’ll walk you out,” Yoongi sighed, grunting as he stood to follow her and almost kicking their friend Taehyung in the ribs as he passed.

Jinmi opened the door and Yoongi caught it in his hand and held it open for her.

“It’s just fucked up,” he said as she stepped past him into the hall. “Everyone should cum. Like, I don’t know what you gotta do - get a massaging shower head or a dildo or fucking sit on a washing machine or something - but you need an orgasm. You’ve got to figure that shit out. Everyone deserves an orgasm.”

“Bye, Yoongi,” she snapped, walking quickly away from him.

The next week was torturous. Between a paper due in one class and an exam in another, Jinmi was stressed. Even in her short spurts of downtime she found no relief.

She was plagued by Yoongi’s words.

No matter what she did she couldn’t get their conversation from that night out of her head. It was a vicious cycle; the stress from all her schoolwork made her think that maybe an orgasm really was a magical way to relieve stress and then she got more stressed thinking about how she couldn’t have one and then it started all over again. Jinmi always ended up back to one thing.

Everyone deserves an orgasm.

To her credit, she did try again. She laid on her bed and shimmied her hand down her shorts, her fingers testing around for some sort of magic spot. But after a few fruitless minutes she got frustrated and gave up.

At one point she thought back to one of the last things Yoongi had told her and considered maybe buying a toy. But then she imagined not only having to walk into one of those horrifying sex shops, but having to actually pick one of those things out and then hand it over to the cashier for them to ring it up. Just imagining it made her want to burst into flames. And what if someone saw her going in or going out? No, no way. Buying any kind of toy was out of the question.

And then an idea came to her.

It was crazy, beyond crazy, but the more she thought about it, the more it cemented itself into her head. When she caught herself coming up with excuses and justifications - it won’t be that bad, you’ve already sort of broached the subject and talked about it before, you can definitely do this - Jinmi realized that she had already resolved herself and there was no turning back.

Which is how she found herself standing before Yoongi’s apartment door, knocking before the nerve to go through with it abandoned her.

Yoongi opened the door, surprise coloring his features when he saw her standing on the other side.

“Jinmi,” he drawled. “Hey… What’re you doing here? Everything okay?”

She walked in, wringing her hands together nervously. “Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine. Is Jin home?”

The tone of her voice and the palpable anxiety radiating off of her made him cautious. “Uuuuuuhhhh… no? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m good,” Jinmi responded, way too quickly. She was glad the timing had worked out and they were alone.

“You don’t seem fine or good,” Yoongi said, side-eying her as he walked around the kitchen counter to stand before her.

“How do I seem?”

“Manic. Pretty, uh… pretty fucking manic.”

“Whaaaaaat? I’m not manic,” she said, trying to clamp down on fairly hysterical laughter. “That’s… that’s crazy.”

“Ooookaaaay…” Yoongi drawled, obviously not believing her. “Want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

Yoongi turned to the fridge to rifle through it. While his back was turned, Jinmi pulled at her hands nervously, wishing the ground would just swallow her whole.

“There’s water, beer,” he called back to her from inside his refrigerator, “more beer. That’s about - wait, there’s some soda. Cola.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m fine with whatever,” she rushed, not focusing on what he was saying. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, willing herself on because if she didn’t do this now, she’d chicken out forever. She was gripping her hands together so tightly her knuckles had turned white. “Hey, remember the other night?”

Yoongi’s head was still in the fridge. “The party?”

“Yeah. Remember how we were talking? About how, um… how I… about-”

“How you’ve never cum,” he supplied easily, appearing with the bottle of soda. He set it before her and reached up to grab some cups, completely unfazed. She envied him right then, being able to just say things like that.

“Exactly. How I’ve never…” Jinmi swallowed hard, “orgasmed.” She looked him over as he tiptoed to reach the cabinets above their heads from his side of the counter and she dug her nails into the skin of her hands. “What if you… helped me?”

The cabinet door slammed shut suddenly.

Yoongi stared at her wide-eyed, as if he must’ve heard - and consequently understood - wrong.

“What?”

“I said, what if you helped me?” she repeated, clearing her throat.

Now that the sentiment was out, her nerves had taken on a different sort of buzzing. Her anxiety had shifted from having to get the idea out to convincing him to agree to it, as if his acceptance of her wild plan would make her less crazy for coming up with it in the first place.

“Help you? What do you mean help you?” Yoongi asked, frozen in place, an empty glass in each hand. He looked as if he thought that she couldn’t be asking what he thought she was asking.

“I mean what if you…” Jinmi sucked her cheeks for a moment, “did… stuff… to me.”

“You’re asking me to make you cum and you can’t even say the words?! Are you serious?”

“I can say the words! I want you to… give me an orgasm.” So the last words were mumbled. They still counted.

“You want me to fuck you,” Yoongi stated bluntly, giving her a look.

“No! I mean, you don’t have to fuck me if you don’t want to. You can do… other stuff. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“‘Whatever I’m comfortable with?!’”

He sounded more hysterical than she’d ever heard, or even imagined him capable of, and she held her hands up as if to calm him. “You know what I mean! It can be whatever.”

“Have you gone fucking nuts?”

“Hey! You’re the one who said that everyone deserves an orgasm!”

“This is not what I meant! Where is this coming from? You can’t even say the word ‘penis’ out loud and now you’re asking for someone to help you cum?”

“Not someone. You.” Yoongi stopped at that, his face softening a bit. He was still confused, but there was something much less scandalized in his demeanor. She swallowed and continued, plowing on since she already figured she was in too deep now. “We’ve been friends for a long time now and I trust you and you’re comfortable with this kind of stuff. I’m not and I obviously have no idea what I’m doing, but you do apparently. And I know you wouldn’t make fun of me or go telling anybody or bragging about it. I don’t know. What you said the other night got me thinking and I honestly had kind of given up on the whole idea. I thought I was just some kind of freak, but when I admitted it to you, you… I don’t know, you didn’t blame me. You made it sound like it wasn’t my fault, that it was my douchebag exes’ who hadn’t done something right and not that I was some weirdo who just couldn’t… you know…”

Yoongi swallowed hard and a thick moment stretched between them as he set the glasses on the countertop between them, obviously thinking. When he finally looked up at her, he still looked dubious, but there was an air of resolution about him.

“And you’re really okay with the idea of me… touching you? You’re sure it won’t be weird for you after?” he asked.

“I mean…” Jinmi gave a half shrug. “Would you even be into touching me?”

“Hey, I’m not the one we have to worry about here. I’m a guy. Mine is basically just touch it for long enough and I’ll get there. It’s simple biology. Girls are more nuanced; you’ve got to focus and take your time and cut out all distractions and stuff for you to get places.” He held up a hand suddenly as if abstaining from any kind of misunderstanding. “Which is fine! I don’t mean it in a bad way or anything. I’m just going off of what I’ve been told and what I’ve figured out on my own.”

“Yeah, apparently it’s an art form,” she sighed, disillusioned.

“No, it’s just different. And any person you’re with should be willing to take the time to get you there.”

She gave him a short, slightly awkward smile which he reciprocated as the silence dragged between them for a few beats.

“So…” she said, tapping her fingers on the countertop. “You’ll help me?”

“I guess,” he replied with a sigh, still looking kind of doubtful. “If you’re sure you really wanna do this.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I mean, you’re a good friend, we’re comfortable around each other, you’re good-looking-”

“I’m good-looking?” Yoongi repeated, brows lifting. “You think I’m good-looking?”

“Well, yeah, you’re physically attractive.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just some long winded way for you to tell me you’re hot for me?” he teased with a smirk.

“Oh, shut the hell up, Min Yoongi. I’ve never been hot for you a day in my life.”

“No, of course not. You’re just asking me to make you cum because I’m your close friend and I’m good-looking is all.”

“Can we just get this over with?” she sighed, standing as Yoongi came out from the kitchen, glasses and soda forgotten on the countertop.

He paused midstep. “What- right now?!”

“Well, I mean, weren’t you-”

“I’m not just gonna dick you down right now!” he exclaimed. He was looking at her like she was crazy again. “You literally just sprung this on me, I haven’t even showered, Jin could get home any minute…”

“Okay, okay, I just thought-”

“Stop thinking,” Yoongi instructed with a wave of his hands. “You thinking has proven to be a dangerous thing. Stop all thinking immediately. Just go home.”

His hands were on her shoulders at that, bustling her out the door. Jinmi managed to grab her bag and cradle it awkwardly to her chest as Yoongi prodded her forward. “Okay, but when-?”

“I’ll come over tomorrow night. Just…”  he stopped at the doorway, shooing her out into the hall. “Just go home and whatever you do, don’t think.”

Jinmi flinched when Yoongi practically slammed the door after her, leaving her alone out in the hallway. She let out a deep breath.

“Well, I think that went well,” she said to herself, nodding.

“I said no more thinking!” came Yoongi’s muffled voice from behind the door, making her jump into action and scurry away.

Jinmi burst through her door, made a beeline for her bed, and screamed into her pillow as soon as she got home.

She couldn’t believe that she had actually gone to her friend’s house, knocked on his door, and asked him to give her an orgasm. And now he would be coming the next night. She would have to look him in the eye. He would see her naked. Oh my god, he was going to have to see her naked, she would have to be naked in front of Min Yoongi.

She should just call him and tell him that it was all an elaborate joke. Ha ha! Got you!

But she didn’t.

First off, because Yoongi would never buy it and as horrifying as asking this favor of him was, it was twice as horrifying even thinking about trying to take it all back.

Second, because there was a part of her - a twisted, hungry part - that desperately wanted this experience. If Yoongi could actually do it, if he could actually give her an ever-elusive orgasm, she’d owe him whatever he wanted for the rest of eternity.

She buried her face back into her pillow with a pathetic whimper, dreading the next twenty-four hours of inevitable stewing.

-

As Jinmi expected, she had been stewing all day long. She had spent the entire morning panic cleaning and organizing. The cleaning had given her something to distract herself with. Unfortunately, her apartment was tiny and she couldn’t clean forever.

Yoongi had texted her in the afternoon to let her know that he would be by around eight later that night. As the day crept into evening, Jinmi showered, washing her hair and shaving her legs, before meticulously moisturizing. She hesitated a moment before getting dressed, considering for a moment whether she should put on some lingerie, but in the end she decided against it. That would be a little weird. She chose a cute pair of undies, sheer and low cut with a little bow right in the middle of the top trim, and a simple black bra. Nothing too fancy, just a little push-up action to make herself feel a little sexier. Her outfit stayed casual - jeans and a t-shirt - but she did dab on just a bit of makeup.

As the clock ticked closer to eight, Jinmi tried to occupy herself with fixing up last minute details around her home. She lit some candles, rearranged the stack of magazines on her coffee table, served herself a glass of water, rearranged the magazines again…

When the knock came at her door, she jumped, heart in her throat. She stood a moment, paralyzed with her hands covering her pounding heart and then she rushed to the open the door. Yoongi stood just outside, looking just as awkward as she felt. She held the door open for him and he stepped past her inside wordlessly, casting a glance around. Jinmi closed the door behind him, trying not to hyperventilate with anxiety.

Yoongi was standing in her living room just behind her and when she turned to look he held up a bottle of wine.

“I, uh, I brought this,” he said with a slight nod. “I figured we could probably use it.”

“Oh,” she said as he set it on her kitchen table. Jinmi gave a small shrug. “I kinda figured maybe we’d do some shots or something.”

Yoongi paused in the middle of retracting his hand from the wine bottle before shutting his eyes with a long sigh. “Oh my god,” he groaned, sounding like he was already regretting saying yes to this epic mistake in the making.

She pursed her lips. “So… no to the shots?”

“Oh my god.”

Jinmi felt like the tension was going to snap her spine in half and before Yoongi could even so much as take off his jacket, she was jumping to ramble nervously.

“Okay, so, how do we do this? Do we go to my room or…?”

He licked his lips and stormed into her kitchen. He opened the cabinet housing the wine glasses and pulled out two and the corkscrew. “Jesus fucking Christ, look, we’re going to drink some of this wine because you definitely need to relax. You are so uncomfortable and awkward right now and there is no way we’re going to get through this without alcohol.”

“That’s why I said shots,” Jinmi said, defending her previous suggestion.

Yoongi poured the wine and handed her a glass. “Drink.” Then, when she took a large gulp, he reached out to pull it back down, “Don’t shotgun it! Fuck! What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m nervous, okay?!”

“Just…” he topped her glass off before serving himself and then marched her to the couch. “Sit. Chill out a little.”

There was a short, thick pause and then Yoongi said, “If this is too weird we could just call it off. No harm, no foul.”

“No, I want to do this,” Jinmi confirmed, nodding as she tightened her grip on the wine glass.

“Okay.” He nodded along with her, eyes staring intently at the wine in his hands.

The silence stretched between them and every second felt like an eon to Jinmi. She was so anxious that she could feel her heart shriveling up inside her chest and the life being sucked out of her. She just wanted to get this done and over with already, push through.

“Okay, can you take off my pants already?” she burst out suddenly.

“What?! No!”

“Well, how the hell is this supposed to happen with my pants on?”

“It’s not, but just calm down,” Yoongi admonished, scowling. “Fuck. Can you slow down a minute?”

“I’m calm!”

“You’re not calm, drink your wine.”

“You yelled at me last time I drank my wine.”

“Drink your wine like a normal person and not a drunken savage.”

Jinmi took a small, hasty sip just to appease him and then turned back to him. “Can we please hurry up and just do it already?”

“Okay, maybe this is why you’ve never had an orgasm,” Yoongi said, raising a brow at her. “Do you always rush right into shit because you get uncomfortable and impatient?”

“No,” she lied. “What does it matter? Can’t we just get it over with?”

“Fuck, seriously. This is part of the reason you’re having trouble. You’re rushing everything. Maybe if you just slowed down and worked your way up to it, it’d be a lot easier.”

“But-”

“Oh my god, just… close your eyes,” Yoongi ordered, sounding kind of exasperated.

Jinmi pulled back a bit to give him a look. “Why?” she asked skeptically.

“Just close them,” he repeated firmly, brooking no opposition as he set his wine glass down on the table.

Slowly, still hesitant, she did as she was told, eyes shutting and leaving her in the dark, nervously fiddling with the wine glass in her hands. For a moment there’s nothing, just darkness and the sound of her heart pounding mercilessly in her ears. But then she flinched when she suddenly felt his breath at her neck.

“What’re you-?”

“Shh.”

Her next protest died on her tongue when she felt his lips make fleeting contact with the curve between her neck and shoulder in a small, soft kiss. Her body shuddered, the lack of vision making the sensation seem twice as powerful. Yoongi placed another kiss, just as gentle and quick, a little higher up on her throat. Jinmi sighed, her body automatically relaxing towards the warmth of his mouth with the exhale and her head tilted to give him more room.

The next kiss was open-mouthed, just a hint of moisture from his parted lips on her skin. His hand came to rest on her hip chastely as he kissed just under her jaw this time. Each press of his lips sent a quick jolt through her and butterflies started churning in her stomach at the feeling.

There was a slight pause, his actions halted for a moment, that pulled her from the mild haze that had grown over her. Her fingers unlatched from around the stem of the wine glass after a gentle prompting and she heard the glass thunk softly onto the coffee table before them as he set it down.

“What-”

She had been about to ask something, but just as her eyes started to flutter open, she felt his fingers at her cheek, turning her face, and then Yoongi’s mouth was on hers. Electricity exploded and buzzed across her at the contact, nerves tingling in a completely new way. Jinmi free-fell into the kiss instantly, allowing him to part her lips and seal their mouths tightly together.

The next time his mouth opened under hers, there was the quick, hot flash of his tongue to accompany it. It was the mere tip meeting the tip of her own, but it brought with it lightning flashes that shattered down her spine and caused goosebumps to ripple over her flesh. She gave a small moan, turning further into him and letting her hands fall to his chest, rumpling his shirt in her fists.

Yoongi seemed to be fueled on by the sound, his one hand winding in her hair as the other dug tightly into her hip, his nails scratching roughly into the denim of her jeans. The pressure of his fingers twisting against her locks, tugging at her scalp made her tilt her head with a groan, giving him unfettered access to the wet warmth of her mouth.

Oh god, his tongue. His tongue was making her brain fuzzy. Did they end up doing those tequila shots? It felt that way. She felt intoxicated, warm and heavy and drunk. His tongue stroked skillfully along her own, twirling before licking against the seam of her lips or the roof of her mouth. He tasted of peppermint and she realized suddenly that he hadn’t had any of the wine he’d poured them.

Jinmi lost herself to kissing him, sliding her hands up his chest and pushing the thick material of his leather jacket from his shoulders. He helped her take it off him and once he was rid of it, Jinmi tucked her hands into his silken hair. Yoongi’s own hands settled firmly on her hips and then he was urging her up. She was confused for a moment before she realized that what he wanted was for her to straddle him and she complied without thinking.

“Shouldn’t we…” she began, murmuring against his mouth as she lowered onto his lap.

“Shh,” he repeated, focusing his attention back down to her neck. His tongue lapped over her throat before he sucked a hickey into the skin. “Trust me.”

She did, obeying once more without question. Yoongi’s hands dipped under her shirt, smoothing up the expanse of her back and leaving a wake of shivers behind. Teeth nipped lightly at her collarbone before he sucked another hickey into her neck.

Jinmi dug her nails into his skin lightly in retaliation. “You’re gonna leave a mark,” she said, but the complaint lacked force as it was almost a breathless sigh.

Yoongi merely huffed in reply, his teeth scraping across the newly forming bruise as if to cement it in place.

He dipped his head and for a moment she wondered what he was doing. It became clear when he dragged his tongue up across the shallow valley between her breasts. At the feel of the warm wetness on such sensitive skin, she jolted involuntarily and accidentally rutted her hips into his own. Warmth flared through her body when she felt his erection beneath her.

He was hard. He was hard because of her.

Yoongi didn’t hesitate at the action whatsoever, lifting his hips to grind against her own and another soft moan left her lips. The friction was delicious, feeding the growing need between her legs. Jinmi bent to catch his mouth again, rolling her hips into his, addicted to the feeling.

But after a few long minutes, she felt that familiar frustration begin to nag at her. It felt good, but nothing was progressing or peaking. It had just plateaued. The thick material of her jeans was beginning to become cumbersome and overly rough. She pulled back from him with a frustrated whine.

“Yoongi, it’s not-” she began, her voice clearly indicating that she was upset with the familiar turn.

Before she could sink into her frustration, Yoongi kissed her again for a long minute, dragging her tongue into his mouth and sucking before releasing it. He didn’t say anything, merely tapped her thigh to get her to sit up, and then he tugged her pants open and slid them down her legs and off before resettling her on his lap.

The loss of the heavy material felt like she’d dropped a million pounds and when Yoongi shallowly ground up against her again - clad only in her panties now - the sensation was fresh and so much more direct. She rolled her hips against him again, the feel of his hard length pressing into her core addictive and satisfying.

Pleasure began to slowly rise in waves through her. She’d felt it before a few times, but things usually ended before she could tell if anything would eventually come of the feeling.

“Are you-” Yoongi paused to kiss her jaw and she noted that his breathing was a bit affected, “-you getting somewhere?”

She sighed into his ear, her hands clutching fistfuls of his soft, black hair tightly as she worked herself over him. His hands were digging into her back, anchoring her to him.

“I think so,” she panted, kissing him again, focused hard on trying to make this work. “I’m trying.”

As if in direct opposition to this, he pushed her back until she was completely off of him, standing in front of the couch.

“What’re you doing?” Jinmi demanded angrily, frustrated at the lack of contact. She might’ve finally been getting somewhere and he was pulling this shit?

Yoongi stood as well, his hand in hers, and he appeased her by kissing first her mouth and then her neck. He began walking her backwards, peppering kisses against her skin.

“There’s more room on your bed,” he said by way of explanation. “I don’t want you to have to work for it so hard. I thought maybe we’d try something new.”

She held her tongue as they made it through her bedroom doorway, clinging to him as he worked more bruises into the thin skin of her throat, and let him guide her up onto the bed before he crawled on after her.

He’d lost the leather jacket he’d come in with back on the couch, but other than that Yoongi was still fully dressed. She felt a suddenly self conscious sitting in just a shirt and her underwear.

“Lie back,” he told her and she hesitated, but did as he asked.

She was getting nervous again, the slight break giving the pleasure she’d gained from their grinding on the couch time to recede. Yoongi’s hands slid gently up her hips and pushed her shirt up higher, exposing her navel and her panties to him.

“Shit, did you wear these for me?” he asked and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

She was about to say no automatically but when he ran his thumbs appreciatively across the sheer material, she hesitated.

“…maybe,” she consented carefully.

“They’re nice,” he stated easily. “I like them.”

And then, as if to prove his point, Yoongi dropped an overly chaste kiss onto her panties.

The action left her tingling, more for the suspense of what it might imply more than anything else, but she gave a short intake of breath nonetheless. Yoongi kissed just under her navel and then across her hip bones as his hand set to work pulling the crotch of her panties to the side. Once he was unimpeded he ran two fingers carefully up her slit, finding her damp already and spreading electricity as he went. She tensed under his hands as he shifted to pull the hem of the panties down to remove them. Obediently she lifted her hips, even as her trepidation got the better of her.

“Um, just so you know, I’ve never really been super into fingering?” Jinmi spoke up. “It just doesn’t really do anything for me. It’s always just been kind of uncomfortable and - unf!”

She cut off into a loud moan as Yoongi dragged his tongue from entrance to clit in a rough lick, effectively silencing her. She felt one finger circle her entrance slowly as his tongue flattened over the small bundle of nerves at her crest.

“Oh my god,” she groaned, her hands clutching desperately at the bedsheets.

Yoongi pushed the tip of his finger into her just as he closed his mouth around her clit in a light suck. Jinmi bucked against his mouth and he waited patiently until she allowed him to gently push her hips back down to the mattress with his other hand. He suckled a bit harder, ready this time to pin her down, and sunk his finger all the way in up to the last knuckle.

For a moment, he kept his finger motionless, circling her clit with the tip of his tongue as he let her adjust. Then he slid almost all the way out before pushing back into her in a slow drag. He did this a few times, setting an easy pace before he crooked his finger upwards on each push back in.

At first, it felt a bit strange and awkward and she was about to tell him to go back to what he was doing before. And then his finger brushed against a new spot and sudden intense pleasure sparked inside her for a moment, making her entire body jolt. She keened, tilting her head back at the foreign feeling.

“Found it,” Yoongi muttered proudly, more to himself than her it seemed.

He quirked his finger against the spot again, more directly, and lightning flashed behind her eyes.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, squirming.

Yoongi’s eyes snapped up to her face at that, an amused grin tilting the corner of his lips.

“Did you just curse?” he asked, disbelieving.

“Yes,” she replied distractedly. “Shit, that feels really good.”

“You never curse.”

“Shut the fuck up and do whatever you did again. Please. I need more, oh my god.”

Yoongi pulled out for a second and when he pushed back in it was with two fingers instead of one. When he brushed against that magical little spot again, it felt so much more intense with two fingers instead of one. He took his cues from her breathing, her moans, each rut of her hips towards his hand until he found the pace and pressure that suited her.

She was falling to pieces.

She’d never ever felt so good before in her life. Her muscles were trembling and jumping. Her skin was flushed. Heat spread through her veins. And then, suddenly, Jinmi felt pressure begin to coil in the pit of her belly. It tightened and tightened with each thrust of Yoongi’s fingers inside her.

Her breaths were coming in heavy, shallow pants, her muscles tightened, her eyes squeezed shut against the mounting pressure in her core. Yoongi didn’t let up, focusing solely on that special spot, rubbing against it directly to help her along.

And then like a rubber band snapping, pleasure flooded her entire system. She cried out, a tight, broken noise. Her back arched, white flashed behind her eyes, her thighs tried to push together against the new, overwhelming sensation, trapping Yoongi’s hand where it was.

Euphoria.

Yoongi had been completely right. There was no way she could ever have mistaken that feeling for anything else. She was panting, sweat dotting her brow and she gave a small grunt as Yoongi retracted his fingers.

“Oh my god,” she panted. “Oh my god. That was amazing. That was- wha-”

She cut off in a sharp keen as Yoongi unexpectedly pulled her thighs back apart and his tongue was suddenly on her again. Jinmi cried out when he licked at her clit directly, the sensation overwhelmingly sharp, still too close to her orgasm.

“Yoongi, what’re you doing?!” she gasped when he moved down to lap at her much less sensitive  entrance.

He didn’t bother to answer, busy licking her clean of her arousal and something about the filthy act made her core twinge again. Yoongi flattened his tongue and licked back up to her clit, easing up on the pressure to make sure not to overstimulate.

“Shit, Yoongi, oh my god,” Jinmi gritted, twisting her hands in his hair to keep him in place between her legs. “You’re so amazing. Your tongue feels so good.”

She was riding the fine line between too much sensation and extreme pleasure. Soon the intensity settled as he kept rhythm against her center and pleasure won out. Her hips pressed up into his mouth and he took his cue to increase the pressure of his tongue once more.

He ate her out hard and fast, her body still so worked up from its first climax that the second one built in record time. It only took a few minutes before she felt that telltale pull in her stomach again and when Yoongi sucked her clit between his lips, her second orgasm washed over her.

“Fuck, fuck,” Jinmi ground out, holding his his still between her legs as she practically curled in on herself. “Yoongi…”

The orgasm seeped into her veins slowly and she collapsed into the afterglow. She was boneless, muscles twitching sporadically with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Yoongi sat up between her knees, his lips still coated in her release and he wiped the excess off with the back of his hand. Jinmi looked up to meet his gaze, beyond satisfied and still recovering.

“Live up to the hype?” he asked, cracking a smile.

“God, yes,” she replied, dragging her hands through her hair. “Better. That was incredible. Thank you.”

“Sure,” he replied sitting back on his heels and the motion suddenly triggered the realization that he was still hard.

She sat up on her elbows, pulling her knees together to try, suddenly a little self conscious now that they weren’t in the thick of it.

“Wait, what about you?” Jinmi asked, nodding towards the bulge in his pants.

Yoongi adjusted himself with a quick hand and shrugged. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me.”

“No, but… that’s not fair.”

“It’s okay, really.”

“You did me a huge favor… twice… the least I could do is-”

“Really, it’s okay,” Yoongi insisted. “This wasn’t about me, remember? This was so you could cum, not me.”

He meant what he was saying, conviction clear in his voice and his gaze unflinching despite the obvious discomfort he was in. Something about the selflessness of the gesture emboldened her and her eyes flickered down to his erection. Jinmi’s tongue flashed across her lips before she met his gaze again. When she did, his eyes had darkened, the hand over his crotch pressing down more firmly.

“I-I…” she wasn’t good at talking about this kind of stuff, but after what he’d just done for her it made her want to try. She swallowed and went for it. “I’d really like to make you cum, too. If you’d let me.”

She saw Yoongi’s pupils dilate and his breath hitched in his throat at her words. His hand fell away from his dick.

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

Jinmi perked up at the husky consent, shifting higher on her elbows to look down at him again. “I could blow you if you want-”

“I’d rather…”

His gaze flickered down to the spot hidden just behind her closed thighs momentarily and heat flooded her again as his meaning became clear. All shame fell away from her, caught up in the haze of sex that suddenly filled the room again. Jinmi let her legs fall back open, allowing him to see her completely, on display for him.

“Fuck me,” she said in a raw, husky whisper.

Yoongi’s eyes snapped up at hearing her finish his sentiment for him. He was kissing her roughly the next moment, jaws and tongues and teeth all working. His hands pulled desperately at her shirt, still covering her upper half.

“Take this off,” he said urgently. “Please. I want to see you.”

She did as he asked, ripping the remaining cloth off quickly and shucking it to the floor.Yoongi’s hands were already unclasping her bra. He was slowing himself down, preoccupied in dropping wet kisses to the swell exposed by the bra cups. Jinmi felt the straps loosen as he finally unhooked the clasp and then his hands were on her breasts.

Her own fingers were busy trying to rid him of his clothes as well. Yoongi struggled against the fabric of his shirt as she pulled it above his head. Once it was off and thrown haphazardly across the room, her hands fell to his pants, but they stuttered in their work of opening his jeans when he closed his lips around a nipple and sucked. A moan ripped from her and she relished the feel of his mouth on her before she distractedly finished pulling open his pants. She tugged them down, promoting him to shift his weight to remove them fully.

He was finally naked before her. Jinmi took a moment to admire the lean line of his body. Yoongi was naturally thin and small-framed, but his proportions were nice and masculine in their makeup. Smooth, pale skin stretched over the faint outline of his ribs and the flat of his stomach. The shallow lines of his pelvis dipped enticingly and the faint trail of hair just under this navel led down to his groin.

Her gaze lingered on his cock. Jinmi reached out almost shyly - an inane concept after all that had happened - and wrapped her fist around him.

Yoongi jerked under her touch, eyelashes fluttering at the sensation. She gave a slow, even stroke along the firm, hot flesh and in response he gave a low groan in the back of his throat at finally being touched. He shifted forward, pushing her onto her back to prop himself up over her and he kissed her again.

“Condom?” he asked, voice gruff, when he pulled back.

“Nightstand,” she said and he leaned across her to rifle in her drawer.

When he sat back up on his heels, she followed him, taking the time to litter his neck and chest with kisses and hickeys of her own, her hands sliding across every inch of exposed skin she could get at. Her revenge was sweet and she realized why he had taken such pleasure in marking her. Yoongi shivered as she worked a dark bruise over his pulse, leaning into her unconsciously.

“You’re very distracting,” he chastised, but it came out as an unconvincing groan.

Jinmi merely smiled against his skin and continued her ministrations. As soon as Yoongi had finally worked the condom over his length, he pulled her along with him as he tumbled forwards once more, pinning her beneath him. He kissed her mouth shortly and then worked down her jaw.

“I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he warned between kisses and she felt him lining himself up with her entrance. “I didn’t expect watching you cum to be fucking hot.”

She nodded desperately, rolling her hips towards him. “It’s okay.”

Yoongi slid into her, both of them holding their breaths for a second as they relished the feeling. The heat and fullness of him inside of her was mind numbing. Jinmi was a virgin, she had had sex before plenty of times, but there was something different. The feel of him filling her after having cum - twice - was beyond satisfying. She dug her fingers into his back, relishing the sensation.

Yoongi pulled out slightly before rocking back in. Jinmi gasped, the sound ending in a moan as she arched into him. The next thrust had him brushing that magic little spot again and she whimpered tightly, her teeth latching onto his shoulder.

“Fuck,” Yoongi grunted, pulling back and rocking forward once more. “You’re so fucking tight. You feel so good.”

She keened at his praise, pulling him even closer. He worked up his pace, eventually evening out into a steady, firm rhythm that she met thrust for thrust. Yoongi’s face fell into the crook of her neck, warm, labored breaths ghosting over her skin. He wasn’t very vocal, but even still he couldn’t stem the tiny grunts in the back of his throat at how good she felt clamped around his cock.

Yoongi hadn’t been joking about being worked up and before long she could feel him beginning to stutter in his pace.

“I’m close,” he gritted through his teeth. “Fuck, I’m close.”

Jinmi raked her nails down his back. “Just a bit more. Harder.”

Yoongi complied, ramming into her harder and after a few more sloppy thrusts, her nails dug into his skin and the cord in her belly snaps for the third time that night, washing her in a heavenly buzz and glow.

“Shit, Yoongi, oh my god,” she moaned, riding out her high.

When she clenched around him, he was done for. Yoongi stilled inside her with a grunt, cumming hard. He gave a few more shallow thrusts to ride out his high.

After a few moments, he lowered himself to leave one last slow, lingering kiss on her lips. His tongue teased her mouth open, twisted around her own, and then he gave a light suck on her lower lip before releasing her. He shifted his weight and collapsed beside her, both of them spent and sated.

For a long while, they lay there, limbs tangled and sticky with sweat. When their breathing had evened out and their hearts had ceased pounding, Jinmi let out a breath.

“So,” she said, staring at the ceiling. “That was an orgasm.”

“Three orgasms,” Yoongi corrected.

“Three orgasms,” Jinmi conceded with a nod.

“Told you you weren’t a freak.” There was a prolonged moment before he continued. “Do you regret doing this with me?”

“No,” she replied quickly. Jinmi finally turned to look at his profile as he was still staring above them at the ceiling. “Do you? Regret saying yes?”

Yoongi turned to meet her gaze, dark eyes flickering between her own. He gave a small smile she didn’t one hundred percent understand. He shook his head slightly, damp black hair sticking to his forehead with the motion. “No.”

Jinmi smiles back slowly, appreciative, before turning to look back upwards. “No. I’m glad I chose a good friend to help me out. Thanks.”

Yoongi have a short bark of a laugh. “Yeah. Glad I could help. After all, what are friends for?”