#the only man whos doing anything is the groom and im convinced its bc hes only half french | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smochiis · 7 years ago

Text

band-aid solutions

✩pairing: jimin x reader

✩ genre: smut, angst, humor

✩ warning: slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!jimin, oral

✩ word count: 15k

✩ summary: It’s said that time heals all wounds, but that isn’t exactly true and sometimes band-aids are all you have. You catch your boyfriend cheating on you and Jimin is more than willing to help you forget him.

✩ a/n: inspired by the drama suspicious partner, check it out if you haven’t already!

It was a slew of texts that initiated the craziest night of your life.

You found yourself curled up on the library’s sofa, facing yet another long, sleepless night. Your textbooks, notebooks, and papers piled around you in a disarray as you downed coffee after coffee in hopes of staying awake. The certification exam loomed over your head as you valiantly tried to focus on the words just underneath your nose while they floated around on the page.

The buzzing of your phone jolted you awake and you realized you must have dozed off.

Sighing, rubbing your temples, you grabbed your phone and squinted at the screen as the sudden brightness almost blinded you. The words were fuzzy at first but once you read them, suddenly, you could see very clearly. Your mind was awake and sharp and your stomach flopped.

Krystal: you said your bf was on a business trip right?? [9:42 pm]

Krystal: im pretty sure you told me that yesterday [9:42 pm]

Krystal: but it's weird bc there's a guy here at the hotel who looks just like jaejoon [9:43 pm]

Krystal: because it is jaejoon oh my god [10:37 pm]

Krystal: and there’s a woman with him [10:37 pm]

Krystal: y/n are you awake?? [10:39 pm]

Krystal: y/n!!! [10:39 pm]

Krystal: jongin and i left already but im positive it was jaejoon [11:21]

Krystal: y/n call me when you get these….please?? [11:22 pm]

You weren’t exactly sure what you felt after that, your body numb and your mind working overtime. But you didn't call Krystal. Instead, you pocketed your phone and hailed a taxi to the hotel Krystal had told you about -- the fancy one she and her boyfriend had been staying at for the past three nights as part of their anniversary celebration. You didn't even think twice about it.

Until you were dropped off in the loop and gazed upon the graceful columns and arches of the entryway.

It had to be some sort of prank. You forced yourself to push open the sleek, glass double-doors and walk into the foyer cast in a warm, golden glow. But you knew Krystal; she would never pull a prank like this.

The only other explanation was that, maybe, your friend had been mistaken. And as you stood there, in the midst of excellently-groomed men and women who exuded wealth in their pristine suits and dresses and jewelry, you felt embarrassingly out of place. You truly hoped that Krystal had seen wrong.

It was possible, right?

You blew out a breath as you told yourself that, tried to calm your heart as it crumpled prematurely in your chest.

But the longer you stood there in the lobby, the more ridiculous you felt. You'd dropped everything, even though your certification exam was tomorrow, and driven all the way out to a hotel that was so far out of your price range it hurt. You hadn’t even changed out of your jeans and t-shirt. Not to mention you had no idea what time it was. You dug out your phone and checked.

12:09 am.

You were absolutely crazy.

“It's hard to disagree when you're just standing in the middle of the lobby like that,” a smooth voice murmured.

Startled, you glanced to your left. “Huh?”

The man standing next to you wore a plain but obviously expensive suit. Complete with a tie, cufflinks, and shiny black shoes. His chestnut hair was styled impeccably, his face fresh and handsome, despite the hour. He looked like something straight out of a catalogue, almost inhuman, as he watched you with a startling intensity.

You felt even more out of place the longer he stared, your ears burning.

“You look a little tense. Would you like a drink?” he offered.

You didn't give yourself time to ponder his behavior or proposition. “No, thanks. I'm...looking for someone,” you said.

The man just nodded, an inscrutable look in his pretty eyes. “Maybe some other time, then.” And he wandered back to the bar area across the floor, sitting with a group of other men who you assumed were his friends.

You didn’t realize that you’d been watching him until your eyes met again.

Licking your lips, you turned around and finally decided to move. You didn't know what to do now that you were in the lobby -- it wasn't like you could go knocking on every door, looking for a man who you weren’t even sure was here -- but you figured that the elevator was a good place to start. You could at least try to compose yourself there, figure out your next step.

You tried to ignore the stares as you jabbed your thumb against the button. Tried to ignore the whispers of the people who walked past you, the frazzled girl in a pair of jeans. And as you ignored them, you once again tried to convince yourself that this was crazy -- you were crazy. That everything was a misunderstanding, that Krystal had seen wrong, and that your boyfriend was in Busan for his business trip like he had promised.

But that feeble hope shattered when the elevator doors opened and you stared Jaejoon in the face.

Like some sort of twisted scene right out of a drama.

You saw the panic flash across his face as your eyes met. You also saw his arm draped around the shoulders of the slender woman by his side, and how her hand rested on his chest with familiarity. The woman looked at you curiously, and then at Jaejoon, a frown pulling on her perfect lips.

“What's the matter, baby?” she murmured, and the pet-name was a fist around your lungs. She eyed you again. “Do you know her?”

“Go wait in the car,” he leaned down and whispered in her ear. He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze when she hesitated, a sweet smile that you knew so well. “I'll be out in just a little bit.”

The woman frowned again, her pretty features furrowing, but she did as he said nonetheless. Her red dress hugged her hips and curves, serving as a beacon and drawing every man’s eyes as she left.

It was only after the double-doors shut behind her that your boyfriend sighed.

“Y/N...let's talk.”

You didn't know why you let him lead you to the sitting area and into a plush chair. You didn't know why you were even still here because all you wanted to do was run away and hide.

Was this really happening?

Your mouth was shut so tightly your jaw hurt. Because if you opened it, you’d spew out all your feelings in a cacophony of word vomit. All you could do was stare at Jaejoon as he sipped his water and hope that he could feel your gaze burning into his skin.

“Aren't you going to say something?” he asked after a long moment of pure silence. “Or are you going to just stare at me.”

It took a great effort to unlock your jaw and bite back all the raging questions. “Explain yourself,” you managed through gritted teeth.

He blinked, shrugged. “I don’t really have anything to say.”

“I just found you with another woman at a hotel at midnight. And you have nothing to say?” Heartbreak and fury warred in your chest, constantly trying to one-up each other. But somehow, you managed to keep your face impassive.

You didn't want Jaejoon to know what you were feeling.

Jaejoon sighed. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?”

“Look,” he said, “the important thing is that I still love you, Y/N. I’ve made mistakes, yeah, but how I feel about you will never change.”

Mistakes. Plural.

The lines felt almost scripted, like he’d practiced them. Or repeated them to other women. They were hollow, without an ounce of sincerity, and it made your skin prickle.

“How many times?” you interrupted.

“What?”

“How many times have you made mistakes?” The question left a sour taste in your mouth, made your chest ache, but you had to know.

Jaejoon sat back in his chair. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you it was the first time, and your feelings would be hurt if I told you it wasn’t the first time. Don’t you think it would be better if you just didn’t know?”

Incredulity had your mouth dropping open. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, like a cloth having the water wrung out of it. But you swallowed the pain and fought back the burn in your eyes.

Heartbreak was winning.

To be honest, you’d already known that something wasn’t right.

The delays in his texts, the sudden surge in business trips, the constant need to readjust the passenger seat in his car…

You’d known that he was changing, that he was seeing someone else. You’d known that he was a two-timing bastard, but pretended not to. You willingly let yourself be fooled because it was less painful that way.

But now the truth was right in front of your face. Undeniable. You couldn’t look away this time and it felt like being kicked in the teeth by a horse.

“Anyway,” Jaejoon sighed, “I made a mistake. You’re right. Do you need me to swear that it won’t happen again?” He lifted his right hand with an easy smile that had won you over so many times before.

Now, it just made your hands fist in your lap. Fury wrestled its way to the top.

“Do you think this is a joke?” You crossed your arms and his smile fell. “The least you could do is be serious, you asshole.”

Jaejoon closed his eyes and ran his tongue over his teeth. “I’m young, Y/N,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“And?”

“And when gorgeous girls in tight little dresses try to outright seduce you…” He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “There aren’t very many young men who’d be able to resist, that’s all. We have two heads and only one can be in charge at a time.”

Your stomach flopped and your eyes started to burn again. “So you’re saying that you had no choice because you’re young?” You refused to cry, and to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, even if they were angry tears.

“I’m saying that I won’t make the same mistake again,” he said, frustration clear.

“You mean you won’t get caught again.” You swallowed tightly, the knowledge a thick lump in your throat. Because he would do it again. “You mean that you’ll just be more careful when you’re cheating on me, you son of a bitch.” You slammed your hands on the table and stood up, heading for the doors.

You needed to leave. To disappear. And to cry out your heartache where no one could see.

“Y/N!” You heard Jaejoon’s footsteps as he chased after you, felt his tight grip on your wrist as he tried to turn you around. “I said I was sorry. What more do you need?”

That anger buried deep in your chest finally exploded as you threw off his hand. “What, so, when you say sorry I’m just supposed to roll over and go, ‘Okay, I understand, I forgive you’? Do you think that ‘sorry’ makes everything okay?”

He stared at you, stunned, as if he’d never expected such a reaction from you. But of course he wouldn’t have, because for the entirety of your relationship you’d held your tongue, willing to overlook his faults in exchange for his attention. Because ‘sorry’ had always made everything okay before.

That was your mistake.

“Then this is it? We’re done?”

“No, wait,” you said. You were tired of being a pushover. “I’ll decide whether or not we’re done. But first, let’s even the score. I’m young, just like you are,” you said and watched his face change, “so that means I have no choice but to make mistakes too. I’ll go and have a one-night stand.”

Jaejoon spluttered.

“After we’re even,” you continued, “then I’ll let you know if we’re breaking up.”

He let out a short bark of laughter and crossed his arms. “Seriously, Y/N? You? You’re not the type to - ”

“Yes, me. I’m going to sleep with the first guy I bump into after this,” you promised, and you dearly hoped that he believed you.

“Y/N.” The amount of scorn on his tongue could have melted steel.

“The very first one,” you said in a low voice. Without giving him a chance to reply, you turned on your heel and went to storm across the lobby. Instead, you barely managed two steps before an old man walked directly into your path and, panicking, you twisted on the balls of your feet to avoid running into him.

The very first one, you’d promised. Heartbroken and blinded by revenge or not, old men just didn’t do it for you.

So rather than bumping into an old man, you tripped and crashed to the floor. Your knees smacked the ground hard, sending a jolt through your whole body, and your hair exploded around your face.

Behind you, you heard Jaejoon snicker. “Oh my god...”

Sitting there on the cold hard floor, feeling the weight of many eyes on your shoulders, in your old jeans and t-shirt, you were once again reminded of how utterly ridiculous you were. You had never felt smaller than you did in that moment as you brushed your hair out of your eyes and scrambled to your feet. But still, you pretended as though nothing had happened as you fixed your hair and your shirt.

You managed a few steps before your vision grew watery and you sniffed, trying to discreetly rub away the tears that threatened to spill.

Instead, you rubbed out one of your contacts.

Now everything was blurry and you stood frozen in the lobby. Your shoulders threatened to tremble as the embarrassment ate you alive. Even though you couldn’t see them, you could feel everyone staring at you -- probably laughing at you too.

And among them was Jaejoon.

Right there, in that moment, your “tough girl” act began to crumble. You didn’t care who it was, but you wished that someone would take you away.

No, you wanted to disappear completely.

But before the first tear could fall, you caught a whiff of expensive cologne and felt the strong press of a shoulder against yours. A man bumped into you hard enough to gain your attention and you turned to look at his face. You couldn’t discern much as you squinted at his profile, but he stood calmly next to you and stared at Jaejoon.

Who was apparently unfazed by the whole ordeal. “Come on, stop being so stubborn, Y/N.” His voice was exasperated, like he was speaking to a child.

The stranger next you, however, had given you enough of a reprieve to collect yourself. He’d bumped into you on purpose.

You took a breath and blinked away the tears before looking at him again, completely ignoring Jaejoon. “Would you sleep with me?” you asked.

A part of you realized that you should have felt ridiculous asking that question. But a bigger part of you realized that you didn’t care anymore.

Because the stranger glanced at you and said in a voice smooth as velvet, “Sure, I’d love to.”

You didn’t know why he was helping you save face but you were grateful nonetheless. And when you leaned in to get a better look at him, squinting, you sighed. You couldn’t make out any of his defining features, but you could still tell that he was handsome and probably around the same age as yourself.

“At least you’re young and good-looking,” you muttered under your breath.

The stranger chuckled. “Glad to know you think so,” he said, and you paused.

You’d heard that smooth, rich voice before. Recently, in fact.

Stepping even closer to him, you rose to the balls of your feet and blinked, trying to focus on his face. You squinted as his fuzzy features slowly became clearer, bit by bit, until you could see his well-kept hair, beautiful brown eyes, and full lips stretched into a smile.

Recognition hit you, leaving you breathless.

It was the same man who’d spoken to you earlier and offered to buy you a drink. The catalogue man.

“Oh, it’s you,” you gasped.

He only smiled wider and offered you his arm. “Let’s go.”

Sparing a glance at Jaejoon, who was staring at you with disbelief, you grabbed Catalogue Man’s hand without a second thought. “Gladly,” you hummed and let him guide you to the double-doors.

Bursting through those doors earlier, you would have never imagined that you’d be leaving on the arm of a man who wasn’t your boyfriend. But, you supposed, life was unpredictable and cruel and sometimes you just had to improvise.

“Wait a minute,” Jaejoon called. “Whoa, wait a minute!” The outrage in his voice was clear and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t satisfying. “Y/N, stop right there! If you leave with him, then we’re over,” Jaejoon warned, and you stopped in your tracks.

The stranger by your side glanced down at you with a quirked brow as if to say, What do you want to do?

You inhaled, taking in the stares of everyone in the lobby. They were rapt, as if tuned into their favorite daytime soap opera. You’d already created quite the scene, why not go out with a bang?

So you wrapped Catalogue Man’s arm around your shoulders in a bold move. And then you plastered the biggest, brightest smile on your face and said, “Let’s go.”

Catalogue Man kept you tucked underneath his arm, a faux show of possession, but let you lead. Wrapped in the warm smell of his cologne, feeling his nice suit against the bare skin of your arms and cheeks, you felt confident. You felt like you could look back at your boyfriend -- ex-boyfriend -- and smile coyly. Because you had a better man, a more beautiful man, a wealthier man who was willing to sleep with you. Someone better than Jaejoon wanted you.

In that moment, the revenge was honey on your tongue.

But that confidence disappeared the moment you set foot outside and the cold night air slapped your face. It was like waking up from a strange, horrible dream.

And you were suddenly faced with the fact that a total stranger was expecting you to sleep with him. Because you'd asked him to.

Biting your lip, you wracked your brain for ideas on how to weasel your way out of the situation. Maybe if you said you'd changed your mind, he would just let you go. Or maybe he wouldn't.

Those thoughts came to a sudden stop, though, when said stranger removed his arm from around your shoulders. His absence left you cold, goosebumps breaking out along the skin of your arms, and you crossed them.

“I know you don't really want to sleep with me,” Catalogue Man said with what you thought was a smile. Having just one contact was still making it difficult for you to see. “And that's fine, because I didn't really expect you to.”

You couldn't hide your surprise. “How do you know that?”

“You could have taken us upstairs to one of the hotel rooms. But instead we came outside,” he said before heading over to the valet’s stand to, presumably, have his car brought around.

You watched him, fingers fiddling with the fabric of your shirt. You were too embarrassed to point out that you probably couldn't afford to pay for a room at this hotel. It had taken Krystal’s boyfriend over a year to save up for just three nights and you had no idea how Jaejoon had been able to afford it. Unless he wasn't a businessman at all, which you couldn't disregard.

And all at once, you realized that you hadn't really known Jaejoon at all.

Over a year together and he was practically as much a stranger to you as the man in front of you now while he waited for his car.

The sour feeling in your mouth was back but you still touched Catalogue Man’s arm. “I don't know why you helped me, but thank you,” you said in a small voice.

“I had fun helping you out. Though I never did get your name,” he mused, looking at you.

“Y/N,” you supplied, wishing you could see his eyes better.

“Y/N…” He rolled your name around on his tongue, testing it out. “It's pretty. I’m Park Jimin. Figured it's only right that we know each other's names since we’re apparently sleeping together,” he teased as he held out his hand.

Despite yourself, you laughed and shook his hand. “Jimin. Now I can stop thinking of you as Catalogue Man.”

The joke wasn't very funny you thought, but Jimin still broke into a smile that revealed a just-slightly crooked tooth. It’s appearance did funny things to your abused heart.

Which you quickly wrote off as adrenaline.

The purr of an engine drew your eyes as a sleek, silver Mercedes rolled around before coming to a smooth stop in front of you. The valet got out and handed Jimin his keys.

“I have to go,” Jimin said. “But in the future, try not to bump into random guys on the street. Far too many of them would actually take you up on that offer to sleep with you. There's lots of perverts out there, Y/N.” His warning was firm but also caring, which was strange you thought.

But then again, a lot of strange things had happened tonight.

Jimin smiled at you and waved before opening the driver door. And as you gave a small wave back, you heard his voice.

“Y/N!”

Jaejoon.

Your heart leapt into your throat and you looked over you shoulder to see him coming out of the double doors. The pain and embarrassment you'd felt earlier came rushing back full force as you looked at his face. It left you unable to think, your body simply reacting.

You yanked open the passenger door of Jimin’s car and slid inside.

He balked, completely startled, as you shut the door. “I wasn't expecting you to follow up on your offer, Y/N, really,” he tried to assure you.

“I know, I'm sorry,” you said, staring hard at the dashboard. You would have time to feel crazy later. “Please just drive.”

He must have known that something was wrong, because Jimin looked over your shoulder. And when he spotted Jaejoon outside, pacing by the doors and staring at you in the silver Mercedes, he understood. To your utter surprise and relief, the engine rumbled and he pulled away from the curb, leaving the hotel and the last hour of absolute insanity behind.

Neither of you said much as he drove.

The silence settled in, along with the weight of your actions. You hadn't been yourself all night. You'd turned into some crazy woman who propositioned strange men and hijacked their cars -- a crazy woman with no sense of shame. Rubbing your forehead, you bit back a groan.

“Thank you, I’m sorry,” you mumbled again.

Jimin glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, one hand on the steering wheel. “I hear that quite often from you.” But it wasn't said with irritation or heat, just a quiet observation.

You bit your lip before saying, “I'm not the type of person to ask a random man to sleep with me. I do have pride, though it doesn't seem like it right now.”

You didn't know why you wanted him to know that. Like you wanted to leave him with a good impression of you, though you knew you'd never see him again. But for some reason, his opinion mattered. Maybe because he'd been the one to rescue you.

Or maybe because you were just so embarrassed for someone to have witnessed your unabashed behavior.

“You don't have to explain,” Jimin said and you had the strangest feeling that he somehow understood. He smiled at you with his eyes, the look charming and swoon-worthy. “Where do you want me to drop you off?”

“The nearest bar, if you don't mind,” you muttered. Jimin’s brows rose but he kept his eyes on the road and you hastily elaborated. “It’s been a rough day and I could use a drink or two.” And some preferably company, anything to get your mind off of Jaejoon, but you didn’t state that.

Jimin just nodded.

It was barely five minutes later when he pulled over onto the shoulder of the road. You looked out the window at the bar, with its flashing neon signs and back alleys, and smiled wearily. A dive bar suited your day all too well.

Murmuring your gratitude and one last apology, you slid out of Jimin’s car.

Before you could close the door, however, he spoke. “You know, that offer for a drink is still on the table.”

Startled, you squinted at him, trying to see his eyes. He was leaning on the steering wheel expectantly, fiddling with his keys in the ignition. He appeared sincere enough. And today had been a shitshow of epic proportions already; it couldn’t get much worse, you told yourself as you gnawed on your bottom lip.

“You’re a little overdressed for a dive bar,” you cleared your throat and brushed back your hair, “but why the hell not.”

Jimin’s smile was bright and clear even though you only had one contact in. He turned off the engine and pocketed his keys before joining you by the entrance. Again, the scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a warm breeze, and you found it very difficult not to sigh and rub your face into the material of his suit.

You were definitely crazy.

This time, it wasn’t you who stood out in the crowd, but Jimin.

Everyone else was dressed to your standards -- jeans, t-shirts, sometimes less than that -- and he was the only one in a nice suit. But if the stares of the other patrons bothered him, he didn’t let on. In fact, he seemed totally casual as the two of you plopped down at the bar counter and ordered your first round.

“Been a while since I’ve been to one of these bars,” Jimin mused and took a sip of his whiskey.

You opened your mouth to respond but the buzzing of your phone cut you off. You dug it out of your pocket and peered blearily at the screen.

Jaejoon was calling you.

Your scowl was immediate as you rejected the call and slammed the phone onto the counter.

“Excuse me,” you told the bartender, “could I get a whole bottle of this please?” You lifted your still-full shot glass.

The bartender blinked in surprise but gave you a full bottle anyway, to which Jimin chuckled and ordered another glass of whiskey.

By the time you were finished with your bottle, Jaejoon had called you 14 times. Your phone rattled against the bar’s countertop as his face flashed across the screen again, and again, and again…

Fury bubbled in your throat. How dare he disturb your night out. Hadn’t he disturbed you enough already?

Half of you wanted to grab your phone and throw it across the room. But the small, sober part of you knew that was a terrible idea because you’d be the one paying the consequences. Literally.

“You should turn it off,” Jimin suggested, as though he’d noticed your internal war.

You nodded, fingering the rim of your shot glass. “Yeah,” you sighed as you watched the call expire and your phone’s screen fade to black. Before Jaejoon had a chance to call you again, you powered your phone off and put it back in your pocket.

And tried to ignore the ugly feelings that stirred in your chest.

What had driven him to cheat on you? Was it your looks? Because you'd been focusing on your studies? Or had you simply gotten boring?

Each thought made your stomach roll.

Without word, the bartender placed a bag of pretzels and another bottle in front of you. “On the house,” he said with sympathy when you went to protest.

You swallowed and looked down at your hands. Did you look as miserable as you felt? You must have.

Jimin’s glass met the counter with a clink. “When something like this happens to people, they mistakenly blame themselves,” he murmured. “Did I do something wrong? Am I ugly or boring? Was I just not enough? What’s wrong with me?”

Your tongue felt thick in your mouth. It was like he’d pulled the questions directly from your head, opened your chest and seen those ugly feelings for himself.

“I know how that feels,” he said, glancing at you, and suddenly you understood. Jimin sighed and filled his glass again, his fourth drink. “But, Y/N… We’re not the ones who were wrong. The only people to blame are the ones that betrayed us. It’s not our fault. It took me a long time to figure that out but you understand, right?”

We. Us. Our.

You nodded, finding strange solace in the fact that you weren’t alone. Knowing that someone else shared your misery was somehow comforting.

“Logically, I know it’s not my fault. But I still can’t help but feel that I could have prevented it somehow,” you admitted as you reached for a pretzel.

Maybe if you'd paid Jaejoon a little more attention, maybe if you had spoken your mind more often, maybe if you'd put more effort into your appearance… Maybe things would have been different.

Jimin downed his drink, breathed out. “I know. You’ll get to where I am eventually.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Four years.”

You blanched. Four years was a long time. Would it take you four years to get over Jaejoon? You really hoped not because you didn’t think you could go on for four years feeling like this. The fact that Jimin had… It made you wonder just how in love he had been to have hurt for so long.

Maybe he saw the mix of sympathy and curiosity on your face. Or maybe it was because your body seemed to ask, Was it really that bad?

But either way, Jimin smiled wanly and poured another glass of whiskey. “Her name was Yebin and we’d been dating for almost two years,” he began. “We never fought, she was always so patient with me even though I was travelling all the time for work, never got angry when I had to cancel our dates. I never questioned why that was.”

Your skin prickled at how familiar that situation felt. Numbly, you munched on your pretzel.

“I had to work on our second anniversary too, out in Hong Kong,” he continued after taking a sip. “But I finished early and made it back late that night. Bought a boquet at the airport and planned on surprising her at home but when I got there…” Jimin paused, his brows and lips turning down into a pained expression that you knew well because you’d seen it on your own face. He sighed. “I saw the shoes by the door. And I tried to convince myself that they were mine even though I’d never seen them before.”

The denial, too, was familiar to you. Your face mirrored your empathy as you reached out and patted Jimin’s hand.

To your surprise, he took your fingers and gave them a small squeeze. “Then I saw the clothes all over the floor. Her favorite bra and a tie that I knew wasn’t mine… The bedroom door was open but I couldn’t make myself look, so I left,” he finished, and your heart ached anew.

Catching Jaejoon at a hotel with another woman was one thing. Coming home to find your girlfriend in your bed with someone else was another. It was probably worse. But, then again, you supposed that there was never any good way to find out you were being two-timed.

“I’m so sorry, Jimin…” you murmured and hoped that he felt your sincerity.

“Like I said, I’ve made my peace with it,” he said nonchalantly. “Not gonna lie and say it doesn’t still sting, though.” He smiled at you and squeezed your fingers again before reaching for some pretzels.

And it was probably just the alcohol, but you were suddenly struck by how beautiful Jimin really was. His smooth skin, sparkling eyes that smiled, full lips, and that one crooked tooth that gave him a charming, boyish appeal. Combined with his easy personality -- he’d helped you, a total stranger, and publicly agreed to sleep with you even though it was only for show, and kept you company at this backwater bar -- you just couldn’t understand how anyone could take him for granted.

“She must have been crazy,” the words slipped out of your mouth, surprising yourself. Jimin looked surprised too, but he chuckled and you felt your face flush. “Who in their right mind would cheat on you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He was smiling again.

For a little while after that, the two of you drank in silence. Mulled over everything that had happened in the past 24 hours and the ugly memories you’d dug up together. As you slowly worked your way through the second bottle, your mind growing fuzzy, the empty spot in your chest grew larger and larger until you felt hollow.

You began to rub the heel of your palm over the over it, trying to make it go away. But it didn’t work.

“How did you do it?”

“Hm?” Jimin glanced at you.

“How did you stop feeling so empty?” you asked.

He sighed, swirled his nearly-empty glass. “I tried a lot of things. Alcohol, money, other girls… They were all band-aid solutions though. For me, it just took time,” he said. “It might be different for you.”

“Those...band-aid solutions,” you muttered, nibbling a pretzel stick. “They worked though?”

“For a little while, and then they wore off. Like a band-aid.”

You nodded, running your tongue over your teeth as an idea slowly shaped in your mind. A little while was okay. “I only need a little while,” you whispered. “Just for a little while, I want to stop feeling so...used. I want to feel like someone actually wants me.”

The hollow ache was unbearable. Even a small reprieve was welcome.

Jimin put down his glass and looked at you. “I’m sure lots of people want you, Y/N.” And for the umpteenth time, you wished that you had both contacts so you didn’t have to concentrate so hard to clearly see his expression.

“Do you?”

He paused mid-swallow. “What?” he rasped.

“Do you want me?” The alcohol was making you much bolder, much more honest, otherwise you would have never scrounged the courage to ask such a thing.

For a while he didn’t say anything, just stared into the bottom of his glass. “I’d be stupid not to,” he admitted eventually, glancing at you.

“Would you sleep with me?” you asked for the second time that day.

Jimin swallowed. “I would.”

And that was all the confirmation you needed before you grabbed the collar of his very-expensive suit and yanked him down to your mouth. He tasted sour, like the alcohol, and salty, like the pretzels you’d been snacking on, and it was perfect. Warmth traveled from your lips and into your chest where the big hole was, all the way to your toes.

His hands cradled the sides of your face, thumbs pressing into your cheekbones, and he slanted his mouth over yours.

When you felt his tongue in your mouth, you moaned, and he suddenly pulled back. “Y/N,” his breath fanned across your face, “you’re drunk. I’m drunk. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” you said without hesitation. “Are you?”

“Yes. I just don’t want you to regret anything tomorrow morning.”

“Trust me,” you grabbed his collar again, “I would never regret this.”

Jimin kissed you with a breathy groan, pulling your body into his. And somehow, between groping your back and your neck and your hair, he managed to root through his wallet and toss out a stack of bills on the counter. He did it without looking but you had no doubt the sum covered your bill plus extra.

Sober, you probably would have felt bad about crumpling what looked like a designer suit beneath your fingers, but right now you didn’t damn well care. Neither did Jimin as he all but tugged you outside into the cold air.

Nipping your bottom lip once more, he pulled away, ran his fingers through his hair -- even kiss-swollen and disheveled he was still so beautiful. You watched with hungry eyes as he snagged a taxi even though his very pretty, very expensive car waited just a few feet away.

“Definitely not sober enough to drive.” He opened the door for you.

“Mm, safety first,” you agreed with a grin as the two of you squeezed into the backseat of the taxi.

Once inside, you could barely keep your hands off each other, like a couple of teenagers at a drive-in theater. The driver had to ask Jimin to repeat his address three times, glancing up at his rearview mirror more than what was necessary. Normally, the thought of having an audience would have made you burn with mortification, but now your body thrummed excitedly.

You were practically sitting on top of Jimin, your hands raking through his soft hair. His own hands rested on your back and your hip, holding you tight. You shivered when you felt the tips of his fingers graze your bare back underneath your t-shirt, but all he did was stroke your skin. He made no move to take your shirt off.

“We should keep our clothes on,” he murmured in your ear, voice so low that your stomach jumped. “I would hate for the taxi driver to see your underwear. I’m sorry, I’m a little selfish.” He palmed your bare back.

“You can be selfish all you want,” your lips whispered against his skin. You kissed the underside of his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. “It’s sexy.”

Jimin exhaled, squeezed your hip. “I’m hardly the sexy one here.”

His breathy words ignited a combination of pride and pleasure inside you as the alcohol burned in your veins. It gave you the confidence to scrape your teeth against the hollow of his throat and swing one of your legs around his hip so that you were straddling his lap. Your grin was smug as you felt the prominent bulge pressing against the crotch of your jeans.

Suddenly, both of his hands were on your hips, pressing you down into his lap and urging you to scoot back and forth, and his mouth was on yours. He swallowed your moans as you shamelessly rubbed yourself against his erection.

“Feel good?” he murmured.

“Yes,” you sighed against his lips. And whined when he pulled you down harder, the seam of your jeans pressing into your clit. Already, your underwear felt damp and uncomfortable. “Alcohol makes me really horny. I’m already wet, Jimin.”

He stiffened beneath you -- you felt it in his shoulders and in how his hands clenched on your hips.

“Good to know I'm not the only one.”

One of his hands snapped to the front of your jeans, furiously trying to undo the button with booze-clumsy fingers. You gasped when he all but ripped the front of your pants open and tugged down your zipper.

“I thought we were keeping our clothes on?” you laughed, wriggling in his lap.

“Oh, we are,” Jimin promised with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Thankfully, I don’t need to take your clothes off to do this.” He pressed his fingers directly against your center, touching the damp cotton of your panties and grinning at your shivering gasp. “You really are wet, Y/N,” he said quietly.

“Mmm…” You bit your lip, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he felt you through your panties. His touch was too light. “Jimin, harder, please,” you urged, trying to press into his hand.

He obliged, rubbing harder, the pads of his fingers purposely seeking out your clit. His other hand guided your hips as you ground against him. Your underwear felt like a sticky mess as you wantonly contracted around nothing and your body cried for more.

“So wet,” Jimin muttered again. This time, he pushed your panties to the side and dragged a finger through your dripping folds, collecting the juices and rubbing tiny circles around your clit.

You jolted in his lap, body trembling, mouth opening in wordless pleasure. Up and down, his finger traveled, teasing, testing your wetness, before finally dipping inside your entrance.

“Jimin,” you whined into his shoulder.

“Shh…” he whispered as his finger worked. You whimpered despite his warning and he squeezed your hip. “You should keep your voice down unless you want the driver to hear you. Think you can do that? Can you be quiet while you fuck yourself on my hand? While you come all over my fingers?”

His husky voice and dirty words had you melting in his lap, your pussy clenching hard. “Yes, yes,” you answered, biting your lip.

“Good girl.” The hand on your hip squeezed again.

The position you were in only allowed for shallow strokes but you rocked against his hand to put pressure on your clit. Maybe it was the alcohol but his fingers felt so good -- it felt so much better, so much more intense, than any of the other times someone had touched you. It was insane how good it felt to have his one finger fuck you.

Jimin pulled out and you gasped in protest before he gathered more of your juices and pressed two fingers inside you. They sank in deeper, up to his second knuckle, stretching your soft walls.

“Damn, you’re tight. I can barely move my fingers,” he groaned as your hips rolled against his hand. He glanced up at you through the fringe of dark hair that had fallen into his eyes with a smirk, looking like a mischievous fallen angel instead of an elite businessman. “Imagine how it’ll feel when you’re finally sitting on my dick.”

You whimpered again, clenching on his fingers.

God, you couldn’t wait. You were so horny that if he hadn’t had such a good grip on your waist you would have probably stripped off your pants and ridden him right there in the taxi.

No one had ever turned you on so much by simply talking and petting you through your underwear. And it was strange, because you’d never been one for dirty talk before. Every time Jaejoon had tried it you’d felt utterly ridiculous and --

You stopped moving, your arousal cut through sharply with cold water.

Jaejoon.

How many other women had he touched this way? Had he ever fucked another girl in a taxi like this? Had he ever done it on his way to see you? How many times had he kissed you right after tasting another woman?

You saw his face in your mind, felt the ghost of his fingers on your skin, and shivered in disgust.

“No, no, no, come back.” Jimin’s low voice startled you out of your thoughts. A line of concern formed in his brow as he cupped your cheek with one hand, thumb stroking your flushed skin. “Come back to me,” he urged. “Don’t think about him, just think about me. You’re here with me, remember?”

You nodded.

“There’s no room for thoughts of him in this car,” Jimin whispered, moving his fingers. He pulled you down by the neck for a kiss, nipping your bottom lip. “Just you and me. My hands on your neck, my lips on your skin, my fingers inside your tight little pussy,” he growled into your mouth and his sudden aggressive tone took you by surprise.

As did how your arousal flared back to life, just as intense as before. You could feel yourself squelching on his fingers, imagined dripping down his hand and wrist.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, “yes.”

“Just you and me,” Jimin repeated before sucking hard on the skin at the base of your neck. His fingers moved faster, harder, fucking you the best he could with such shallow penetration.

“Just you and me,” you echoed, lost in sensation.

He hummed in appreciation as his mouth continued to ravage your neck and collarbone, leaving bruises all over the exposed skin. His fingers pumped in and out of your pussy while the heel of his palm dug into your clit. And when he started rotating his wrist in tiny circles, you bit back a scream, choosing instead to bite your lip and bury your face into his shoulder again.

“That’s it,” he whispered in a hoarse voice, “nice and quiet.”

“Jimin… Jimin, I-I think I’m gonna -- ” You cut yourself off with a muffled groan, your fingers finding their way back into his hair. “Oh, god, I’m gonna come.”

“Go ahead, come all over my fingers. Let go, Y/N,” he whispered.

Obediently, you let yourself go and you tugged on his hair to try and keep yourself grounded. Stars winked behind your closed eyelids as you came, the muscles in your stomach convulsing and your pussy squeezing on Jimin’s fingers, making it harder and harder for him to pull out. But he was determined to fuck you through your orgasm, igniting little mini-shocks that had your hips stuttering against his hand.

He kept going, moving his fingers, until you pulled on his hair and babbled for him to stop because it was just too much.

Weak and trembling, you collapsed into Jimin’s chest. Your cheek pressed against his neck and the collar of his now-wrinkled suit and you felt the sweat collecting at the base of your neck begin to trickle down your spine.

Jimin’s thumb was rubbing soothing circles behind your ear and you had no idea how long he’d been doing it. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you come?” he asked you with a smile that you couldn’t see but felt all the same.

Too weak to answer, you simply shook your head.

“I mean, look at this,” Jimin said as his hand slipped back out of your panties and lifted up for you to see. His whole hand glistened in the dim light, making you flush. When he stuck one finger in his mouth, your stomach and thighs clenched. “You taste good too. Makes me wish we were alone so I could eat you out,” he murmured, thumb pressing gently behind your ear.

An image of Jimin, his head buried between your thighs while they squeezed his shoulders, flashed through your mind.

You tried to press your thighs together to relieve the neverending ache but they were still on either side of his hips. “That sounds so good...”

“Mm… Too bad we’re here.” Jimin sounded honestly disappointed. He nonchalantly re-buttoned your pants. “That’s too good of a show for our friend the taxi driver, don’t you think? He’d probably crash.”

Though you should have felt panic at the reminder that the two of you weren’t alone, you laughed. You were surprised at how little you cared about the fact that you’d just gotten off in the back seat of a taxi, but chances were, you’d come back to your senses in the morning. You could hold off on being embarrassed until then because being with Jimin just felt too good.

You didn't feel so empty.

“Maybe when we are alone,” you suggested, sighing happily and sinking lower into his lap. You could feel how hard his dick was through the soiled cotton of your panties and your jeans, and your mouth watered. “But I wanna try tasting you too and I don’t know if we’ll have enough energy for both.”

Jimin’s head hit the headrest with a soft thump. “Careful, say too many things like that while you’re wiggling around and I might come in my pants,” he warned. “I haven’t done that since I was 15.”

You smiled against his neck and stilled. “Guess we can’t have that, huh?”

He smoothed a hand down your back, cupping your ass. “I’d at least like to keep my dignity intact until we go upstairs,” he said and pointed to the window with his chin.

You sat up abruptly, realizing that the taxi was stopped. How long had it been parked?

As if reading your mind, Jimin chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your jaw. He patted your ass gently and nodded towards the door. “After you,” he said.

You scrambled off his lap and stumbled out of the taxi on weak knees and wobbly legs. You’d been straddling Jimin for too long, feeling the pinpricks at the tips of your toes for the first time, and the ache between your thighs wasn’t helping. You had to brace yourself on Jimin’s arm when he offered it to you with another kiss-swollen smirk.

Clutching his arm for support, you waited while Jimin thanked and paid the driver. Again, much more than what the trip was actually worth -- and you didn’t know if it was because Jimin was feeling especially generous tonight, or if it was to compensate for how the two of you had behaved in the backseat.

One thing you did notice, though, was that the hand Jimin used to pay was the same hand that had been buried in your panties just a few minutes prior. And you had no idea why that was such a turn-on.

Turning, he saw your flushed face and hungry eyes and he winked.

Your brows lifted as you realized that he’d probably used that hand on purpose, just to see if you’d react. “You’re secretly a pervert, aren’t you,” you accused as the taxi pulled away.

Jimin outright laughed and steered you towards a huge apartment complex. “That would mean you didn't listen to my advice from earlier, then.”

“Nope,” you deadpanned, to which he laughed again. You peered at the massive building in front of you, squinting to try and figure out how many floors there were. It looked like fifty but that was ridiculous. “Which one’s yours?”

“Top floor,” Jimin said as you entered the lobby, “the penthouse.”

“Of course it is.” You nodded.

Your blurry vision swept over the lobby briefly, but from what you could tell it was just as fancy -- if not, fancier -- than the lobby of the hotel. And once again you were struck by how different you and Jimin were. To live in a kind of place like this, pull countless bills out of his wallet without looking, and drive such a nice car...just how rich was he?

“Having second thoughts?” he asked as you stepped into the elevator.

“No,” you said, hoping it wasn’t a lie.

“You can walk away any time, you know,” he murmured and squeezed your hand. “I won’t get mad. I’ll be pretty sexually frustrated, but not angry at you. You know that, right?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “I know. But I want this. I want you, Jimin.”

His eyes closed and his lips pursed as he tipped his head back. “I thought I told you to be careful about saying things like that. I’m so worked up right now it’s insane. But thank god you don’t wanna leave because you’re so much better than my hand.”

“You should be careful about what you say too,” you moaned as you imagined him bent over, fist wrapped around his cock. Your thighs pressed together and rubbed. “You’ll make me cream my panties again.”

Jimin laughed but it sounded tortured and you watched as he blatantly stuck a hand down the front of his pants and readjusted himself. His sigh of relief echoed the ding of the elevator as you finally reached the top floor, Jimin’s floor.

“Thank god,” he muttered, tugging you to his front door.

You’d never seen someone punch in their keycode so quickly as Jimin all but threw open his front door and ushered you inside. The moment it closed behind the two of you, he started ripping off his jacket and yanked on his tie.

“Need anything?” he asked as he hastily undressed. “Water?”

It seemed that even overwhelmed by passion and alcohol, his thoughtful and caring side was still prominent.

“No,” you said as your hands went back to the button of your jeans. “Just you.”

Jimin made a noise in the back of his throat as he scraped his hands through his disheveled hair and stared at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Gone was the immaculate, princely catalogue model who’d first offered you a drink in a hotel where you didn't belong. In his place was a man desperate for the feeling of your soft skin under his hands, your voice in his ear, and your taste on his tongue. So desperate that he couldn't finish undressing and reached for you instead.

You let him grab your hips and smash your mouths together, your hands immediately flying to the nape of his neck. As your nails massaged his scalp, he walked you backwards.

“My bed, I want you in my bed,” he managed between hard kisses.

You kept stumbling backwards, nipping his lips and the warm skin of his jaw. Piece by piece, you helped rid him of his clothes. You tugged off his tie, unbuttoned his white dress shirt and pulled that off too. And then your hands were sliding over the smooth, warm skin of his shoulders and down the curved line of his back. Your fingertips danced across his sides and over the firm muscle of his stomach. It had been impossible to tell when he'd been wearing the suit but he had abs, much to your surprise, which were apparently well defined as they flexed under your exploring hands.

The backs of your knees eventually hit what felt like a bed. Jimin went to push you, gently, back onto his mattress but you suddenly remembered your conversation in the taxi and knelt down out of his reach. He made a confused whining sound until your hands fiddled with the buckle on his belt and then he understood.

In the dark, half blind, and drunk, it was difficult to undo. Jimin noticed your struggles and pushed away your hands. You frowned, about to insist that you could do it, when he walked away and flipped the light switch and returned.

You squinted at the sudden brightness but focused on his belt. And suddenly, you were nervous.

“What's wrong?” Jimin’s hands stroked through your hair. “Need help?”

You shook your head and cleared your throat as you resumed working on his belt. “No, I've just never had sex with the lights on before,” you admitted.

You hadn't realized that until just now and even though it was weird, the bright light made it feel different. And you weren’t exactly sure if it was a good different.

“Never?” It looked like Jimin’s eyebrows rose in surprise but you were too focused on undoing the belt and sliding it out of his pant loops. When you were finished, he walked back over to the wall and hit the light switch again, plunging the room into darkness.

It took a second for your eyes to readjust again, the only light being moonlight from the half-covered, full-length windows.

“We can keep the lights on,” you said.

Jimin’s laughter was soft and sensual. There was a small click and the lamp by his bedside table turned on, casting his bedroom in a low glow. It provided just enough light for you to see, but kept it dark enough so you weren't uncomfortable.

“Compromise.” He shrugged, returning to the foot of the bed where you still waited.

You didn't say it, but you appreciated his thoughtfulness. Jimin was so naturally attentive, tuned in to your needs. It was a nice change. Jimin was a nice change. The whole night, he’d done nothing but help you again and again, never asking for or expecting anything in return.

You know you didn’t necessarily owe him anything for his kindness. But you did want to show him how much you appreciated it.

“I can’t wait,” you told him as your hands landed on the front of his pants.

Jimin groaned, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you cupped his dick through the soft material. He was still hard and you knew that it had to be getting painful so you wasted no time in unbuttoning his pants. Shamelessly, your hand reached inside, pulled the waistband of his underwear underneath his balls, and freed his cock.

It bobbed, smacking against the hard muscles of his stomach before you curled your fingers around him. He was long and thick, hot and hard. The head was flushed and soft and when you licked your lips in anticipation, he twitched in your hand.

Your mouth actually watered at the sight of him, a warmth spreading low in your belly. You’d never been this excited to blow a guy before.

Gripping the base of Jimin’s cock firmly, your tongue licked the underside of his head before you wrapped your mouth around it. Jimin’s soft grunt made you smile as your lips slowly retreated, leaving his cock with a kiss. Looking up at him, you licked his tip and kissed it again before rubbing it against your lips, testing the softness.

Lush and warm, just like his ruined lips.

He stared down at you, biting those ruined lips so hard you could see the indents of his teeth, eyes glazed with pleasure. His hands were fisted at his sides and his stomach flexed every time you teased the tip of his cock by putting it just barely in your mouth. Each time you did, his jaw tightened and he looked like he wanted to grab the back of your head and cram his cock down your throat.

The thought had you shockingly wet and you shifted on your knees, trying to relieve the ache between your thighs.

When you decided he’d had enough teasing, you finally swallowed him down. He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a whine, hips pushing into your mouth.

“Ah, shit, that’s it.” His low voice made you shiver and squirm.

You pulled back, a line of spit connecting your lips to his cock. “You taste good,” you said and his hands clenched. Keeping your eyes on his, you tongued the slit of his head, tasting bitter salt.

“Fuck,” Jimin snarled as he watched you, jaw grinding. He held still as you worked, swallowing him again and again, your hand pumping whatever you couldn’t reach, until his dick was coated in your saliva.

Your hand slipped up and down his length easily, the slick sounds making your inner muscles clench.

Jimin’s hands were still by his sides, fisted so hard that the veins stood out on his forearms. And after a minute, you realized that he was forcing himself not to touch you, even though you could see how much he wanted to. His gaze burned into you, telling you all the dirty, wicked things he was imagining.

You popped his dick out of your mouth, licked him from base to tip and pumped him slowly. “You can touch me, you know,” you whispered.

He twitched in your hands and his eyes grew dark. “You sure? I don’t wanna be too rough with you.”

“But I want you to,” you said. The thought of his hands in your hair, pushing his dick past your lips, fucking your mouth, had you getting wetter by the second. Your panties were probably ruined. Looking up at him with a small pout, you squeezed his dick. “Please, Jimin?”

His eyes flashed. Then his one hand was fisted in your hair and the other gripped your jaw. “Open,” he demanded. “Stick your tongue out.”

The second you complied, he shoved his cock into your mouth and pushed in until you felt him at the back of your throat. Your eyes watered as you valiantly fought your gag reflex, digging your nails into his firm thighs still covered by his pants.

“Fuck,” Jimin panted as he pulled out and shoved back in. “Keep your hands there. Pinch me if it's too much.” Despite his growling tone, his words were careful and tender.

You moaned around his cock.

“Shit, you feel good.” He started pushing into your mouth, holding your head still with one hand in your hair. “Your mouth is so hot and wet, just like your pussy. Can't wait until I get to fuck you like this. I bet you can't either,” he whispered frantically, the words tumbling from his lips like he couldn’t help himself.

You moaned again in agreement, doing your best not to choke.

“God, you look so good right now. Hair all messy, spit all over your chin, my dick in your mouth…” Jimin kept rambling. “I wish you could see how you look. It's so sexy. And you're not even naked yet, shit -- ah, that's good.”

Each word made your pussy throb. Your fingers dug into his thighs, wanting nothing more than to be buried in your underwear and stroking your burning flesh.

Pushing in once more, till he touched the back of your throat, Jimin pulled out of your mouth. His wet cock rested against your lips as you sucked in deep breaths, spit dribbling down your chin.

“You good?” He looked down at you, waited for your response.

“Yes, Jimin, please,” you said, trying to fit his cock back in your mouth.

“You like it that much?” Jimin obliged, tugging on your hair as his dick pushed past your lips again. He kept both hands on your head, holding you still as he shallow-fucked your mouth. Each thrust wrought a hiss from Jimin’s mouth. “Ah, fuck, fuck… You’re so good at this.”

You whined, thighs trembling. All of the noises Jimin was making, his grunts and hisses and low moans, had you aching. And his words, wrapped in that smooth voice, set you on fire.

“Are you getting wet from this?” he asked. “I think you are. You were practically dripping in the backseat from just my fingers. Do you remember that? Remember how you came all over my hand right in front of the driver? Fuck, that was so hot.”

Your hips writhed and your hands fisted in Jimin's pants as your whole body actively recalled how intense that orgasm had been. It was getting harder and harder to keep your mouth open so wide, your teeth getting dangerously close to scraping Jimin’s dick. Your jaw would be sore tomorrow but you didn't care.

He kept thrusting into your mouth, the sounds sloppy and lewd.

You couldn’t believe how turned on you were. You’d known that some people could receive pleasure just by giving it but hadn’t really understood how it was possible until now -- the room was a symphony of wet thrusts and Jimin’s noises as he used your mouth. Those sounds, the fucked-out look on his face, was reward enough for you. Making him feel good had a direct affect on your arousal.

And you wanted to make him feel really good.

One of your hands snuck between Jimin’s legs and you cradled his balls. They were velvety but hard, making it difficult to roll them around in your palm. So you gave them a gentle squeeze.

His hips stuttered and you tasted salt on your tongue.

“Fuck--ah--fuck.” Jimin pulled out of your mouth and grabbed your wrist. His chest was heaving as he gripped the base of his cock, precum oozing from the tip. “Shit, you almost made me come,” he wheezed, eyes scrunching shut as he tried to wrest control over his impending orgasm.

You were busy trying to catch your own breath, relishing the sore feeling at the back of your throat.

“Not that I wouldn't love to come in your mouth,” Jimin said, “but I’m far from finished with you.” His eyes narrowed while he absentmindedly worked his fist over his glistening cock.

You watched, mesmerized. The way his first swirled around the head before sliding down and squeezing the thick base… You pressed your thighs together and whimpered, imagining how good the stretch would feel when he was finally inside you.

It made you realize just how empty you were again.

“Jimin…” Your voice was breathy.

He reached down with the hand that wasn’t languidly stroking his cock, thumb wiping away the spit on your chin. “Hm?”

“I need you,” you all but begged. And just in case he didn’t believe your sincerity, you dipped your chin and let his thumb pop into your mouth. Your tongue wrapped around his thumb and you sucked on it pleadingly before saying, “Please?”

“Fuck,” he whined, but it was a low sound. “Do you have any idea how sexy you sound when you say that? When you look at me like that and say please it makes me lose my goddamn mind.” He pushed his thumb further into your mouth, letting you suck on it for just a few more seconds, before he pulled it out and helped you stand up.

Though you were a sloppy mess, your hands still went to the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Jimin’s lips landed on your wet, swollen ones with a hungry moan. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, his cock pressing against the soft material of your t-shirt. Sucking on your bottom lip, he began pushing up your hemline. His fingertips grazed along your heated skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You broke the kiss just long enough to take your shirt off and fling it to the ground.

Immediately, his hands were on your breasts, plumping them up through your bra. Your nipples were stiff points and every time his thumbs caught on them, you sighed.

“So pretty,” Jimin murmured against your lips.

You hummed in agreement, your fingers traveling down his toned stomach to stroke his dick, still silky wet with your saliva. He grunted and pinched your nipples in retaliation.

“Oh!” Your inner muscles clenched hard around nothing, a fire burning in your belly. “Jimin…”

He sighed, nuzzling the side of your neck and sucking hard on the skin there. “I love when you say my name, too. Just like that.” His teeth scraped along the bruise he’d left, making you shiver. “You’ll scream it louder for me, won’t you?”

“Mhm…” You nodded, anticipation thick in your throat as you felt his hands skim down your sides, to the waistband of your jeans. They were already unbuttoned and unzipped, revealing the soaked cotton of your panties.

He pushed your jeans down to your thighs and you helped him by shimmying and then kicking them off. Your underwear followed next; he went more slowly, admiring the way they stuck to your core and how your arousal was smeared all over your thighs.

“You’re completely soaked, Y/N. All this for me?” You could hear the grin in his voice as he cupped you, fingers pushing past your swollen folds. He teased your slit, rubbing up and down, brushing over your clit. You stifled a needy sound, making him realize that you couldn't take any more teasing. “Take your bra off and lie down.”

Finally.

Excitement had you practically vibrating in place. You flung your bra across the room and collapsed back onto his mattress, your back sinking into the plush material, legs spread wide and presenting your glistening folds.

Jimin shucked off his pants and underwear before joining you on the bed. He hovered over you, his dick burning the skin of your stomach. Though you were both impatient and more than ready, he took his time becoming acquainted with your body. His hands massaged your breasts again, testing how firm yet soft they were, pinching your nipples. His lips skimmed the tops of them before he planted hot, open-mouthed kisses and sunk his teeth into the pliant flesh. He touched you with intent, like he was trying to memorize everything about you.

Your fingers carded through his hair, tugging him further down to where you wanted him.

He went willingly, lips skimming your stomach and teeth lightly scraping a trail down to your hips. His hands followed later, cupping and squeezing your body until they reached your thighs.

“God, you’re so pretty, baby,” he whispered and you stiffened.

Though it was Jimin sitting between your legs, Jimin’s hands on your thighs, Jimin’s voice in your ears, you felt and heard him in your head. Jaejoon. As he touched you, kissed you, whispered “baby” and promised you all sorts of things that would never happen.

In your chest, your heart began to ache.

Jimin noticed the change immediately, freezing. “What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling back and looking into your eyes. Something on your face must have given him an answer because he made a sympathetic expression, hand rubbing your hip soothingly. “That’s what he used to call you. It’s okay, I won’t do it again.”

You shook your head. “No,” you said hurriedly and grabbed his arm. “No, it’s okay. I-I want you to.”

You couldn’t stand the fact that Jaejoon was the last man to have held you, touched you, called you sweet things. Because now, even though you were with Jimin, you couldn’t help but think of Jaejoon and you hated it. Even now, he was still controlling you; you couldn’t let him continue to disturb your life.

It wasn’t like you could erase Jaejoon from your past or your memories, but you could definitely create new ones. Better ones. Ones that had nothing to do with him.

“Make me forget him, Jimin. Please?” you whispered.

Even in your drunken and lustful state, you realized it was a lot to ask of him, someone you’d only met that night. But you could not deny how he made you feel or that he could make all your aches and pains go away. If just for a little while.

He smiled down at you, brushed your hair out of your face, and dropped down for a soft kiss. “You know I can’t say no when you ask so nicely,” he murmured against your lips, hands groping your thighs. He began kissing his way down your stomach again. “Do you remember what I told you in the taxi? It’s just you and me here. There’s no room for anyone else.”

His words sunk into your skin, filling you with warmth. Everything around you smelled like Jimin, his sheets and pillows, making it almost impossible to forget who you were with.

But just in case that wasn’t enough, Jimin decided to remind you.

“I’m the one kissing you.” He nipped your hipbone and the muscles in your stomach jumped. “I’m the one touching you. I’m the one fucking you. And I’ll do it so thoroughly that after tonight, you won’t even be able to remember his name, baby.” His hot breath tickled the insides of your thighs and your still-wet core, making you shiver.

“Jimin,” you hummed, stroking your fingers through his hair.

He looked up at you from between your thighs, smirking. “Just you and me, baby.”

You writhed on the bed when he parted your lips with careful fingers, bringing his tongue to your burning folds. He worked the flat of his tongue up and down, gliding over your entrance, teasing you. You pushed your hips against his face, impatient, but he held you down while he buried himself deeper. The bridge of his nose pressed against your clit and you whimpered, pulled on his hair.

“I was right. You taste so good.” Jimin released your sensitive flesh, licking his lips with another wicked grin. His fingers stroked through your wetness before he pushed two inside of you all the way.

It was deeper than it had been in the taxi.

You moaned, wiggling against his hand, urging him to move.

He curled his fingers inside you and dragged them out slowly, pushing back in. “You’re still so tight,” he observed quietly.

You swallowed past your dry throat. “I-It’s been a while for me,” you admitted. “Jaejoon and I haven’t had -- ”

Jimin’s fingers twisted inside you suddenly, making you yelp and jump. He thrust into you hard, his thumb finding your clit and strumming it mercilessly. Your mouth dropped open and your voice came out in breathy, hoarse pants.

The ability to form words left you.

“How am I supposed to make you forget about him if you keep bringing him up?” Jimin mused. “It’s just you and me here, baby. I want to hear you say that.” His mouth returned to your pussy, sucking so hard on your clit that you saw stars. When you didn’t respond, he did it again, fingers never slowing. “Say it, baby.”

Your chest heaved as he forced you towards your orgasm at an incredible speed. You couldn’t focus, too overwhelmed with his voice, fingers, and tongue. But somehow your mouth managed to form the words you both so desperately needed to hear.

“Just -- ah, Jimin -- you and me. Nobody else.”

“That’s right, Y/N.” His voice softened, obviously pleased, and he rewarded you with a light kiss to your swollen clit. But still, his fingers pumped inside you, and your inner muscles contracted over and over again, signaling your approaching release.

“Jimin -- oh, my god.” You pushed your head back into the pillows, curling your fingers in his hair. “Please, please,” you gasped, “I need you inside me. Please.”

He came to a slow halt, confusion flashing briefly on his face because your orgasm was so close that he could feel it. But then he smiled. “You want to come on my cock, is that it, baby?” You looked down at him, gnawing on your bottom lip, and he groaned. “I want that too. To feel you squeeze my dick while you let go…”

You whimpered, feeling empty. So empty that it was painful. And you were so tired of being empty.

You were about to say please again, too far gone to be ashamed of begging, but then Jimin slid out from between your thighs. He reached into the drawer of his bedside table, pulled out a condom, and you watched as he tore the little foil packet and rolled the rubber onto himself.

“Remember, safety first,” he chuckled, an echo of your own words from earlier that night.

You were just thankful that at least one of you was level-headed enough to remember protection.

Then he was back where he belonged and you rubbed your foot against the back of his thigh enticingly. Your orgasm was hovering just out of reach and when Jimin began to slide his dick between your folds, rocking against you slowly, you felt yourself tightening. He rubbed his dick against your clit, keeping you on the edge.

“How did he fuck you?” Jimin murmured.

“Like this,” you answered, hips rolling, seeking more. “Always like this.”

“Always?” Jimin’s brows rose. “Well, while this position is nice,” he slid his cock down to your entrance, pushing the flushed head just past your lips, “I’m sure there are others you’d love.” He sank in an inch and you sighed, grabbing his arm. Slowly, Jimin pushed himself inside you, letting you adjust to the stretch and burn, until he bottomed out and his balls pressed flush against your ass. “Ah, fuck, you really are tight,” he said in a strained voice, hands clenching on your hips.

He filled every inch of you. You swore you could feel him in your throat. And though it had been a while since you’d had sex and there was a definite burn as you stretched around his length, you urged him forward with your foot, desperate for him to start moving.

“Jimin, please…”

That one word had him shuddering above and inside you, powerful and effective. You hadn’t meant for it to become a weapon, but it seemed that it had.

Jimin’s arms were shaking as he pulled out and pushed back in with a grunt. “You feel amazing, baby,” he groaned as he thrust deep and slow, hitting every ridge inside of you. Each thrust pushed you closer and closer to the edge, your walls rippling around him. “You gonna come?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, a hand twisting in the bedsheets, “I’m gonna come.”

“That’s it, baby,” he panted. “Let me feel it.”

Just like in the taxi, Jimin powered you through your orgasm. His hips rolled into yours as he continued to fuck you nice and deep, never slowing. It was so strong that you were sure you stopped breathing for a few seconds, your toes curling, as you lost control of all of the muscles in your lower body.

Your voice eventually returned in the form of high-pitched, breathy whines. Each thrust made you cry out, clamping down on his dick.

Jimin granted you mercy after a few more well-aimed thrusts, slowing to a stop to let you come down from your high and catch your breath.

“How’d that feel?” he asked.

“So good,” you croaked, swallowing.

You’d come twice tonight. You couldn’t believe it. Not once, but twice.

Very rarely had you achieved an orgasm with your ex-boyfriend, and never more than once. Sometimes, you’d faked one just so that he would feel good about himself, then finished yourself off later that night or in the shower. And every time you had, you’d felt guilty about it.

You’d started to feel like maybe there was something wrong with you. But Jimin was making it very clear that there was nothing wrong with you at all. Your ex-boyfriend had just been bad at sex.

Jimin slipped out of you with a chuckle. “This’ll feel even better, I promise.”

Before you could ask what he was doing, Jimin flopped back onto the bed and rolled you on top of him. You gave a startled yelp as your leg swung over his hip, leaving you mere inches from sitting on top of him. He stared up at you with a gleam in his eyes, his swollen and bitten lips stretching into a grin you had become very familiar with.

He reached between your bodies and fisted his cock with one hand, using the other to guide your hips. Slowly, you sank down on him, feeling him stretch your walls from a brand new angle. You shuddered on a sigh when you were fully seated, his dick brushing over that especially sensitive spot inside you.

He was right, this position felt even better.

You felt so wonderfully full, your body ached to move, and yet you kept still. You looked down at Jimin, who had both of his hands on your hips, fingers digging into your skin, and who was biting his ruined bottom lip.

“Go ahead,” he urged when you hesitated. “Ride me.”

You swallowed, bracing your hands on his chest, feeling the heat sear your palms. It wasn’t that you’d never ridden a man before, because you had, and it wasn’t that you didn’t want to continue.

But as you looked down at Jimin, taking in the sweat gathering at his brow and his fucked-out expression, you realized something and guilt slammed into you. He was doing all of this for you.

Jimin’s expression changed, his brows pulling together. “What’s the matter? Does it hurt?”

“I’m using you,” you murmured, suddenly feeling horrible and selfish.

But Jimin just smiled and reached up to push your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Baby, I’m more than glad to let you use me,” he said. “And it’s not like I’m not getting anything out of this, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve got a beautiful girl sitting on my dick, I can’t complain.” He was grinning again but the look softened. “Whether it’s just revenge sex on your ex or keeping you from being lonely, I’m more than willing to help. I’ll be your band-aid tonight.”

His words made something stir in your chest, your guilt fading.

Right, you told yourself. He was a rational, consenting adult and so were you. Needless to say, the alcohol had definitely played a part in this but you still didn’t think that you would regret anything. And you didn’t think he would either.

He was helping you because he understood what it was like. There was no reason to feel guilty.

Confidence renewed, you lifted your hips and brought them back down, relishing the groan that it brought from Jimin’s lips. His eyes were closed as you began to move, putting all your weight on the hands you’d braced on his chest.

“You were right,” you groaned after a few moments of silence, the only noise being the slap of your hips. “This is so much better. I can feel you so deep, Jimin.”

You brought yourself down hard, your breasts jiggling. Jimin watched them carefully before snaking one hand up your torso and taking one of your breasts. He squeezed the fleshy mound hard enough to make you stutter.

“I wish you could see yourself, bouncing on my dick,” he rumbled, eyes roaming over your body constantly like he couldn’t focus on just one thing. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N, I mean it.”

His hands went back to your hips, tightening, and he thrusted up into you, making you gasp. You collapsed forward into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck as he thrust into from below. Each stroke was measured and hard and he kept swiveling his hips as if looking for just the right angle.

He knew he’d found it when you screamed his name. “Jimin!”

Brows furrowing, one hand curving around your back and the other gripping your ass, he poured all of his concentration into hitting that one spot. Over and over and over again. Until you were making wordless noises against the sweaty skin of his neck and scraping your nails along his shoulders to try and keep yourself grounded.

“Think -- ah -- think you can come again? One more time?” he rasped in your ear.

You honestly didn’t know if you were capable of that. Your body was boneless, the pleasure having overridden your senses. You told him as much, or at least you tried to, your lips being stuck to his neck.

“I think you can, baby.” Jimin dug his heels into the bed, used the leverage to drive into you even harder. The hand on your ass snuck between your sweat-sticky bodies and found the place where you were joined, seeking out your abused clit. “Come on,” he grunted as his fingers began to rub in jerky figure eights, “just one more time.”

“Jimin!” You repeated his name, over and over again, till you were hoarse. And incredibly, you felt yourself climbing towards that third release.

It washed over you as quickly as it had approached, less powerful than the first two, but no less pleasurable. You came apart, shaking on top of Jimin as he praised you and kissed your neck and your shoulders, any part of you that he could reach.

“So good, baby, so good,” he whispered, voice straining.

His thrusts were getting sloppier, his grip tighter, and you realized that he was about to come. He followed you a few seconds later, hissing and grunting, mumbling your name. You swiveled your hips, grinding down, and he groaned long and low, the sound coming deep from within his chest.

And then both of you were quiet and still, gasping for breath.

There was no room for words in his bedroom. But your bodies continued to communicate between the hot, sticky sheets and the muggy air.

His hand stroked up and down your sweaty back, massaging the junction of your neck and shoulders. Your lips peppered kisses all over his collarbone and neck. Basking in the afterglow, your eyes drooped and your body went limp.

You fell asleep that night feeling whole.

You woke sometime the next morning with a sharp, gritty pain in your left eye but surprisingly no hangover. You tried to ignore it, your body sore and exhausted, but eventually you had to leave the plush pillows and rub your eye. Apparently, you’d fallen asleep with your contact in, never having bothered to take it out even though you’d lost its partner.

Sitting up, the dark blue sheets tangled around your legs, you realized that you were alone in bed. The faint sound of running water told you that Jimin was showering.

A shower sounded heavenly to your achy muscles and oily hair. But first, you had to get rid of your contact.

Gingerly, you scooted off the bed, groaning when your stomach, thighs, and everything in between protested. It had been a long time since you’d been fucked that well. But it was also nice in a way.

The band-aid had worked.

Taking out your dry contact, you found a trash can and threw it away. You had to buy more anyway.

You went to go back to bed but out of the corner of your eye you spotted your jeans crumpled on the floor, the bulge of your phone prominent in the pocket. For some reason it made you realize that you had no idea what time it was. You yawned, looking around the room for a clock. Not finding one, you bent over and scooped up your phone.

When you turned it on, you expected the missed phone calls from Jaejoon, your ex-boyfriend. You were surprised at how good it felt to call him that.

You felt to regret at all.

What you didn’t expect was six texts and two missed calls from Krystal.

Krystal: yah y/n you never called me [8:33 am]

Krystal: i know you read my texts… are you okay?? [8:33 am]

From Krystal: hello???? [9:04 am]

(1) Missed call from Krystal [9:06 am]

Krystal: okay youre probably holed up somewhere but you know that we have that exam today right? [9:12 am]

Krystal: its starting in like 15 minutes y/n seriously where are you?? [10:42 am]

Krystal: youre really freaking me out here [10:42 am]

(1) Missed call from Krystal [10:44 am]

Your eyes blew wide as panic settled in your stomach like a heavy weight. “Shit!” You threw your phone onto the bed and began racing around the room to gather your clothes.

You’d forgotten about your exam.

You got so caught up in the betrayal, alcohol, and amazing sex that it had totally slipped your mind. Not only was that utterly unlike you, it was potentially career-crippling. If you missed this exam, you would have to reschedule and attempt it again in another six months -- you couldn’t wait another six months!

You managed to locate your t-shirt, jeans, and socks. The only thing you couldn’t find was your underwear. But, you decided as you glanced at your phone, you didn’t have time to look for it.

So you crammed your feet into your jeans, tugged on your shirt, and ran out of the bedroom. On your way out, you passed by the bathroom and heard the shower running, once again reminding yourself of Jimin.

You hesitated for the briefest of seconds, debating.

You had no idea what the proper etiquette was for this sort of situation, you’d never had a one night stand before. Were you just supposed to leave quietly? Was that why he was showering, to give you a chance to escape? Or were you supposed to let him know you were leaving?

Were you supposed to thank him?

“Ah, I don’t have time.” You cast one last regretful look at the bathroom door before slipping on your shoes.

It would be a miracle if you made it to the exam site on time.

Jimin stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in his silk robe, steam billowing around him. He would have preferred to shower last night to wash off all the sweat and other body fluids but you’d tired him out more than he wanted to admit.

In his head, he pictured you as you sat on top of him. Glorious and sweaty, with pouty lips and bruises all along your neck and chest, your hair sticking to your face. The way you whined his name while your hips worked…

Amazing.

Grinning, he looked over at the bed. And startled when he saw that it was empty.

He frowned, padding into the bedroom to look for you. Pursing his lips, he noticed that all of your clothes were gone. He wandered around the rest of his penthouse, searching for you, but after ten minutes he all he found was a hastily scribbled note pinned to his fridge with a magnet.

Sorry!

He took the note with noticeable disappointment -- you’d left.

Jimin headed back to his bedroom with a sigh.

Well, it wasn’t like he hadn’t been expecting this outcome. But, still, he’d hoped that you would have at least waited so he could see you off. Then again, he supposed that most one-night stands went exactly like this. And that was all that this had been.

You’d made that clear.

Or maybe not, he thought as his brows rose, his eyes snagging on something. Peeking out behind the leg of his bedside table were your cotton panties.

“Maybe not,” he told himself as he picked them up, grinning.

#bts scenario #bts smut #jimin scenario #park himin #bts #PHEW #i cant believe this thing is 15k #a mONSTER #and over half of it is smut jfc #anyway #im considering doing a part 2 so let me know what you think!!

401 notes · View notes