scream your panties (m) – pjm
➺ pairing: jimin x female reader
➺ genres/tropes: fluff; humor; smut; minor angst; panhellenic college au ; established relationship ; halloween shenanigans
➺ warning/content tags: 18+; swearing (cuz issa fic by me), extremely inaccurate depictions of Greek life (I used PBP because I have friends from there and it’s the only one I feel safe making fun of); mutually jealous Jimin and Y/N who are in a deeply symbiotic relationship and are somehow the same person, sexualized Toy Story Halloween costumes, Y/N is prone to murderous fits of rage but so is Jimin (he just pretends he isn’t to look more civilized), haunted houses are scary (includes jump scares, scary themed rooms, and also taegiseok n yeonbin in creepy costumes), fighting n misunderstandings (gets scary for a sec but its quick like ripping off a bandage), smut: boob enthusiast Jimin, tons of breast play n nipple play, chest enthusiast Y/N cuz Jimin has nipple piercings 😏, Jimin likes to spank you both inside and outside the bedroom, hand job, unprotected penetrative rough sex (multiple times), Jimin n Y/N get randomly into the feels all the fucking time so if you hate intimacy this fic aint the one for you, copious marking/biting, spit play, panty thief Jimin returns (sorry but this is canon to my Jimins I can’t make him stop 🤡), big dick size king Jimin, creampies/pussy stuffing, blow job, sixty-nine action (yes they blow and eat out each other at the same time), fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, cock warming, showering together
➺ word count: 17.4k
➺ summary: As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin's frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend's delicious self between your legs.
➺ author’s note: Yo sorry for being a hot mess 😭. I had to change my fic idea for this collab last minute (literally on like Oct. 29) and since then it's been a mad dash to get this fic out. I didn't abandon the vampire fic idea, I'm just gonna write it outside a collab with deadlines don't fret! Anyways I hope you really enjoy this fic, it was supposed to be a short lil cute pwp and I made it a super long smutty mammoth fic because I'm obsessed with Jimin 🙄. Btw I amped up the steamy factor and length cuz I'm going on a writing break after Nov. 15 since I’m not really going to have much of free time to write. I’ll still attempt to post once a month but if that doesn’t happen please don’t pressure me about it? I posted like 100k for you guys this year and the year isn’t even over. I hope this tides you over until you get the second half of LOTL. Cuz like, is it a Halloween fic? Sure. But also, do sororities and frats always have random ass costume parties in the middle of the year? Yeah, man. You can read this fic at any time of the year honestly. Please leave some love for this fic if you did like it 💕 feedback is always incredible to receive. The validation I get on each fic I post increases my confidence and allows me to feel secure in continuing to write and post more stories for you guys. I love you a lot and I’ll miss you when I’m on my writing hiatus. These exams are absolutely critical though; I can’t manage both the stress of tumblr and school at the same time for Nov-Jan tbh.
This fic is a part of Jimin’s Sunset Spooktober! Banner made by my darling @knjsnoona & me! It’s just collaboration after collaboration in this household lmaoo 🥰. Beta-read by @jimilter she’s on payroll now! Jimin writes the checks to my lovely bff for all of her help (this is a joke I hope you understand that 😭). I feel like I should credit Ash as a ghost writer. I mean she didn't write this fic but she basically could've with how much I told her and how much she helped. I’m truly blessed to have such lovely and supportive angels as friends 🥺
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It’s hot in your bedroom but you don’t want to push the male who’s got his face buried in your chest off your body.
Stifling a sigh, your left hand caresses his scalp, long fingers threading themselves into the messy overgrown gunmetal gray strands. Jimin slides his palms over your sides, grasping a hold of your tiny waist and pulling you closer to him as you throw a leg over his hips. His hands move north as he brushes them past your ribs and grabs your bare breasts, uncovered since you are mostly nude underneath him and only wearing a scrap of red lace to cover your lower half. He presses your breasts together, bunching the round full globes together before swiping a thumb over the puffy nipples until they start to harden. He finishes the job by enclosing his mouth over one of them and then the other, sucking and nibbling on those stiffening points until they tighten into sensitive, rigid peaks.
It’s not unusual for you to be wrapped around your boyfriend’s body, his slim yet muscular limbs grasping you like a vice, on a Friday afternoon. You don’t have classes on the last day of the week, only a morning shift as a writing tutor at the student center, and Jimin only has his Philosophy discussion on Fridays, led by the course’s TA. The two of you always find your ways back to each other on this day, hence, making up for the lost time over the rest of the week.
Today, you met him for lunch at the Panda Express on campus and then walked back with him to your apartment. Which brings us back to now – Jimin with his shirt off, only wearing the sky blue jeans that make his ass look divine, hovering over your body with his overly long, steel colored bangs falling into his eyes as he sucks on your tits and hums absentmindedly.
The two of you have come to prefer your place over his for moments like these. In freshman year, you were in a triple in the dorms while he had a double with Kim Taehyung, so you two would usually find yourselves fooling around in random empty classrooms in the Physics department. In sophomore year, you lived in your sorority which had much stricter rules than the apartment Jimin had gotten with a couple of his friends. But this year, Jimin is living in his fraternity and you are the one with the apartment which you don’t have to share with anyone. You’ve slept over at the frat before; Beta Tau Sigma doesn’t care if they have girls over, but sometimes you both prefer the privacy here. Jimin and you are usually insatiable; two and a half years together and you’re both still exceeding horny when it comes to each other, and if Jimin’s frat knew how often you two actually were fucking rather than doing anything else, they would never let him live it down as they hurled teasing but impressed compliments his way.
“Jimin?” you murmur, tightening your grip to tilt his head upwards so he can meet your gaze.
Jimin looks at you, heated dark brown eyes under hooded eyelids, his soft silvery hair a rumpled mess clinging to his forehead. “I love you,” he mutters, locking his eyes with yours, pushing his lips out into a puckered pout that eagerly seek yours.
Fuck. He’s so hot.
You move your head towards his and sigh as your lips meet. Jimin slots his lips over yours again and again, their plush pillowiness feeling like heaven against your mouth. He languidly darts his tongue out to press against your lips until they part enough that he can slip it inside. As your tongues twine together, Jimin sucks on yours, his cheeks hollowing out. A moan slips out from you, unbidden as you’re unable to control your urges around this man. One would think that time would make it easier for you, make you less susceptible to the temptation that was Park Jimin, but they would be wrong.
You still make a valiant effort to pull away from him, breaking apart from the kiss. You press your palm against his chest, flush against the Nevermind tattoo crawling up the right side of his torso, to keep him from drawing even closer to you although his grip around your waist keeps you from getting too far.
“Jimin,” you whine trying to engage your boyfriend into conversation.
The male lets his face fall into your chest, banging his forehead lightly against your sternum, “No,” he protests, his straight, dark eyebrows getting pushed together as he furrows his forehead. “Lemme kiss you. I just wanna spend time with you here in your bed until I’m forced to leave and help the Beta Tau Sigma set up for the haunted house. You’ll let me fuck you, won’t you baby?” he needles, “We have all night to talk.”
You scowl, not that he can see it, and push him off of you. Jimin rolls his body around, flopping next to you in bed, immediately wincing when he notices your narrowed eyes. “What is it, Y/N? What’s wrong?” He asks it sweetly and it seems at odds with how his previous sentence caught your ire and made you instantly see red.
“Why do you never want to talk to me?” you demand, crossing your hands over your bare breasts. You irately sweep your long mess of dark hair over your shoulder to let it hang down your back.
You barely got to speak to him this week; when you delivered a bag of hot tofu stew and rice to the study room he had booked, he snapped at you when you hung around, though you were only planning on sticking around long enough to kiss Jimin and force him to put down his books to eat. But this feels different from how Jimin goes radio silent during the weeks when he has a heavy school load filled with studying for exams. Both of you were done with midterms. You wouldn’t have tests again until finals. Jimin even made up his mind to come out and celebrate Halloween with you and his frat, even though he has his Autumn showcase the next evening.
You don’t know if you’re being entirely too sensitive but you don’t like this. It’s hurtful that Jimin says he doesn’t want to talk to you right now—right?
Jimin stares at you, pink mouth wide open as he looks aghast. “I know. I messed up. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have worded it like that, but you know I love talking to you. That’s all we ever do, baby. I text you more out of everyone. I facetime you at all hours of the day. It’s never ever a silent meal when we’re eating together. And I love every bit of it. You know that, right? Y/N, I just. Baby, I miss you. I haven’t seen you all week. I want physical intimacy with you, not just emotional.”
Your frown softens. Fuck, you are being overemotional. He’s right. He’s a great boyfriend. He always tries his best to stay close to you and make your relationship seem special. You were especially craving Jimin’s soft words after so long without (or so it felt, anyways), said in that husky yet sweet toned drawl, fanning over your heated skin as he delivered them with hard kisses from his plush, Bratz doll-esque lips. Your love language was words of affirmation, after all. But in that way, perhaps Jimin needed to slowly ease his way back into talking to you. He did get frighteningly shy. Your sweet loveable boyfriend grew quiet and uncomfortable with people, even those he had known his entire life if he hadn’t seen them for a while. It never took him too long to get back into the flow of his old ways, but he was always a little awkward at the beginning. How had you forgotten that?
You bite your lips as you frown and you let yourself get wrapped in his embrace again, remembering that Jimin craved physical intimacy with you and that that was his love language. For a moment, you allow yourself to enjoy the warmth from his hold, cherishing the way he buries his nose into your crown and tenderly drops light kisses on the top of your head while you attempt to calm your breathing and reign in your emotions. This has nothing to do with him. You’re overreacting.
Striving for a lighthearted tone, you let out a hopefully airy laugh that doesn’t ring too hollow. You brush your fingers along his spine, where you can feel the ring of bones going up his back, softly letting your fingertips tickle his sensitive skin.
“We’ll have sex, I promise. I just need to talk to you about tonight first, before I forget.”
“What’s there to talk about, babe? You got me the costume; I’ll wear it and show up to the Pi Beta Phi manor and we’ll win the thing. And then we go over to my frat to go through the haunted house.”
There were multiple reasons why Jimin walked you home today, but the most important one in your eyes is to pick up his Halloween costume. You have grand aspirations of winning the costume contest at the function your sorority is holding. The winner of the couple event will not only get a month off of required duties at the sorority but also a weekend stay at a fancy hotel room in the city. You are so tired of the mac n cheese lunches they held for philanthropy events. You gain ten pounds, or so it feels, each time. And the date parties? The themes are always so weird and unique that you have to buy a completely new outfit for yourself each time because you can’t reuse anything that was already in your closet. That’s not even the worst of it but you’ve gotten your point across. This sorority is bleeding you dry.
“Ugh, the haunted house,” you groan, burrowing your face into Jimin’s shoulder. His skin is warm and flushed, but he smells amazing and his hugs always give you the instant boost of serotonin you desperately need. Which you now need more than ever. Tonight has to be good for both of you.
Jimin thinks you’re only upset because you hate being scared and bemoans, “Hey! You said that if I let you pick the costumes you would come with me to my Beta Tau’s event too. It’s not Jack and Sally, is it?” His lower lip juts out into a pout that you’re too distracted to notice.
“I thought you guys would throw a Halloween party,” you grumbled.
“We’re doing that too, babe. It’s just half the first floor and all of the second floor we’re converting.”
You suddenly remember the second part of Jimin’s question which makes you laugh lightly, more genuinely this time, before pressing a soft kiss against his throat, “Sorry, ’Min, I didn’t have time to hand make costumes for The Nightmare Before Christmas. Next time, okay? I still think this is good. We could win.”
“What is it?” he asks, sounding full of suspicion. But his attention is wavering again and he’s more focused on groping your ass and pulling on your red lace panties before they snap back softly against your skin.
“You’ll see when you get ready,” you murmur, “But, Jimin,” you hedge.
“Hmm?” He's not paying attention at all. Not when he gets to grip at your luscious hips and squeeze your juicy ass.
“I need you to look very sexy. Pull out all the stops when you’re getting ready, baby.” It’s not that Jimin doesn’t look good when he doesn’t put in effort. He has a casual beauty that is heightened by his effortless style. But you need him to look lethal. Park Jimin when he wants to slay is a whole other kind of demon, one that you are glad is your boyfriend. You would cry if you got to see Jimin looking fine as hell but he wasn’t going home with you.
He bends his neck, nuzzling his face into your chest again, “Sure thing, baby. I won’t forget. Do you need to do my makeup? Should I just ditch helping with the setup?”
You tighten your grip, “Stay with me. Fuck Beta Tau Sigma.”
He chortles, letting out peals of pleasured laughter, “Babe. I wish.” Jimin’s so fucking cute, you wanna pat his head and thus you immediately do so, not even attempting to curb the urge, and then you finger comb back his silver gray locks that you had twisted into a mess earlier.
“No, you don’t need any face makeup, unless you want to. You just need to look hot and be shamelessly confident. Maybe you can channel Seokjin?” you suggest. You heard that Seokjin has a nautical themed costume to wear tonight. If he’s going as a sexy merman that bares all, then Jimin could probably stand to borrow some of his confidence.
Jimin narrows his eyes, looking affronted, tightening his grip on one asscheek before spanking it loudly, “I don’t need to channel Seokjin hyung when I can channel myself, Y/N.”
“Okay, okay,” you easily acquiesce, your own hand moving down to your backside and attempting to rub the reddened flesh. “You’re right, but… remember to do that please.”
“Okay, I don’t get all this remembering business. Y/N, I always look hot,” Jimin tilts his head looking down at you, “What the fuck are you dressing me up as, dude?”
You blink. “Something sexy?”
“Then explain your comment or I’m pushing you off me. You don’t deserve me or my body,” he sasses, already with his hands on your shoulders, prepared to throw you off. “Y/N, you do think I’m the hottest guy you’ve ever seen or been with, right?”
You nervously giggle and lightly scream. How the fuck do you explain that you need Jimin to pull off a very specific look without spoiling the surprise and telling him what it is? “Of course, I think you’re the most attractive man that’s ever lived. Jimin, you are pure aesthetic excellence,” you quickly interject.
“You know how there are several kinds of attractive men? I need you to put on the costume first and let that influence how you do your hair. Like remember when we watched 50 Shades of Grey and you said you were Christian Chim Chim. Don’t fucking do that shit. I need—oh shit, you’re right. I need you to channel yourself. Baby, when you pick your filter for tonight, I need you to be the frattiest, most cocky, and confident fuckboy ever. Give your entire frat a run for their money. Baby, you need to be able to get any guy or girl. That Jimin. The one that bagged me. Be that Jimin.”
“Wow, I didn’t think you were going in that direction,” he laughs, sheepishly, “I came at you too hard. Of course, I know my girlfriend is fucking attracted to me. Sorry, babe, my head isn’t right this week.”
You look up at Jimin, “What’s wrong?” the words aren’t delivered lovingly – no, they’re delivered like a threat; like you’re fully prepared to go find the bitch or asshole who knocked down Jimin’s self esteem and tear them a new one. Nobody gets to hurt your baby like that. Not even you. And if you did do it, accidentally, you would usually wallow in a pool of despair ,begging for Jimin’s forgiveness while at the same time knowing you didn’t deserve it.
And that had only happened once and only because you didn’t know that his hand size was a trigger for him. They’re bigger than yours by a centimeter, though his pinky is about a millimeter or two smaller and you had laughed about how you found it funny that your pinky was longer. But then you cried yourself to sleep when you noticed that Jimin had gone quiet for the rest of the date and didn’t even bother to kiss you goodnight before leaving.
Right now, Jimin snorts, “I’m just being dramatic. Jungkook said I looked like a hot mess this week. And I know that my hair looked like a haystack and my clothes weren’t coordinated, but it’s not like I had time to blow dry my hair or plan outfits or even breathe.”
“Well, Jungkook’s an ugly jock, so what does he know about sexiness?” you scowl, “Stupid fucker with his big, ugly muscles and his meatheaded coconut shaped skull.”
“I have muscles,” Jimin interrupts, rolling the two of you around again until he's caging you under his body. His hands are right by your ears, fingers splayed out and his 13 tattoo looks so starkly black from where it is on his flexed left wrist. The devious male smirks before he subtly rolls his hips into you, hard zipper from the denim pressing against your messy and flushed front.
“Sexy muscles,” you sigh immediately, “Jungkook wishes he looked like you.”
He bites down on his lower lip to hide his smile but it still breaks free, the curve of his lips curling up as it spreads wide to show how happy he is. “Pretty girl,” he mumbles, “I want to destroy you but you’re too sweet.”
At that, your legs immediately surge upwards to cross over his ass, thighs hugging either side of his hips while meeting those shallow rolls of his. You gyrate your own hips until you can get your folds perfectly aligned with his zipper and his cock beneath it, an angry hard length that’s desperate to break free.
Jimin inhales loudly, a sharp sound that makes your skin breakout with goosebumps even with your warm skin pressed against his hot flushed one. You’re hyper aware of his every move and sound. When he moves his hands over your ass-cheeks, palming them, his dexterous fingers are restless as they seek to make you whimper and keen before he squeezes your ass, pushing you up to draw your hips to him until your pelvis is flush against his. He grasps you so tightly that there’s barely a hairsbreadth of space in between the two of you. Jimin loves going commando and his cock head breaches the waistband of his jeans, the tip stabbing you in the belly button because of its monstrous length.
He’s looking down at you with his eyelids hooded. His blackened eyes are dark from desire, the pupils so blown out you can barely make out the brown irises that edge them. The heat terrifies you but also makes you yearn for more, and you haphazardly move your face in the direction of his, almost missing his mouth as you sloppily join lips together. Your arms go up, twining around his neck, both your hands have their fingers buried in his gunmetal colored locks, palms supporting and cradling the back of his head lovingly.
His jaw almost crashes into your chin as he vigorously leans into the kiss, greedily inhaling through his nose, reluctant to pull apart from your mouth as he keeps swiping his lips over yours, sucking at your plump lower lip and nibbling at your cupid’s bow, before he eases you into opening your mouth again. All the while he’s got a hold on your ass, using it to further push you into him instead of crashing down on you, suffocating you with his heavy weight and pressing you into the mattress. The act is thoughtful, though born out of desperation, and your fronts collide with each other, your breasts clinging to his chest as your hardened nipples brush against his metal adorned ones. You hiss when you feel the round ends of his piercings drag against your soft skin, dimpling into them when you’re pushed even tighter against Jimin.
One of Jimin’s hands wander from your ass to clench your thigh, gripping your smooth, supple flesh as his fingers, with the nails slightly grown out since he had forgotten to cut them this week, dig into your skin while he pulls your legs apart and bucks against you. It’s not hard enough to truly hurt but his fingernails do leave temporary red crescent indentations and make you whimper from the tiny bit of pain.
Your tongue, meanwhile, is still roving around Jimin’s mouth and brushes over his reddened swollen lips, and you can taste the mint from the Listerine strip he had dissolved on his tongue after lunch, as well as the peach flavored lip balm he had swiped from your book bag. After a particularly hard nip from Jimin’s teeth, you break apart from his lips to let out an embarrassingly loud wanton moan. He doesn’t let a single second go to waste as he drags his lips along your jaw, nibbling along the way as he moves lower in the direction of your throat. Once there, he bites roughly at the sensitive skin above the hollow of your neck, sucking on it harshly until it leaves a blossoming mark of reds and violets. As he darts his tongue out to soothe the aching flesh, he sneakily dips it into the hollow of your neck and then your collarbones as well, messily licking up the flushed expanse of your skin.
Jimin soon finds his way back to your cherished breasts that he loves so ardently. As he wraps his mouth around a still angrily reddened and tender nipple, you make your hand sneak in between the two of your abdomens, not playing the role of an idle participant. Your hand grips at the front of his pants, holding his cock against your palm as your thumb rubs at its swollen head. You stop your movement over his dick to turn your attention to undoing his button and Jimin growls out in frustration, biting down on your soft underboob, leaving a half circle of teeth marks.
“Chill, baby,” you soothe him, and as soon as you free his cock from its confines, your hand tightly grasps the member to stroke it.
The tight, suctioning grip of your fingers and palm around his heated shaft makes him sigh lewdly in relief as his eyes flutter closed in ecstasy, his long dark eyelashes fanning the apples of his cheeks. He slumps against you, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours as one of his dampened locks of hair falls over his left eye. His nose brushes against yours, and if you wanted, you could place gentle open mouthed kisses on his slightly parted lips, but you ignore them to focus on his cock, while Jimin turns his attention to wetly press his mouth against your cheek and then your jaw.
His moans go up a pitch, filling your ears with his musical sounds of pleasure. Biting your bottom lip, your teeth sinking into it as you press your forehead against Jimin’s even harder, you switch up your form and go to fondle his balls with your nimble fingers. As you tug on them, Jimin lets out an anguished sound that's a cross between agony and elation.
“Y/N, don’t. Don’t tease me. Please?” he begs, “I haven’t had time to get off all week. Baby, please. I’m gonna blow my load. Let me fuck you, beautiful.”
You quit teasing him and instead, your hands got to his waistband on either side, fully determined to shove his pants down his thighs. You don’t even need them down fully, just enough so that Jimin could fuck you without any complications.
He backs up from you and you sigh in discontentment the second Jimin’s flushed peaches n’ cream skin is no longer clinging to yours as the male hops off your bed to tear his jeans fully off his legs. He struggles a little, jumping lightly as the tight material clings to his sweaty thighs and you almost swoon when you see his ass jiggle. What was that thing Doja Cat said? Oh yes, “if you could see it from the front wait till you can see it from the back.” And you can definitely see Jimin’s from the front while also confirming that yes, the backside view is even more mouthwatering.
The pants successfully taken off and thrown to a far corner of the room, Jimin immediately hurls his whole body onto the bed, catching himself with those toned arms whose biceps have started to look shockingly large in the past couple of months and made you demand Jimin carry you everywhere around because he was definitely strong enough to. The thought makes you smile and you immediately smack a kiss against Jimin’s lips because he always carried you whenever you asked.
“Hi, baby,” he whispers against your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours. His thick thighs are bracketing yours as Jimin hovers above your lap, his cock bobbing against your pelvis and its head getting caught onto your lace underwear as it soaks it with precum. As he pulls your panties off, he asks, “Can I keep these? I’ll return them to you later. Hand washed and folded.”
You snicker, “Sicko,” teasing him, but then you press your lips against his before they can droop down into a frown. “Yeah, go ahead, baby. Thanks for remembering that they don’t go into the washer.”
And then you and Jimin are finally getting to the main event. Bare as always, because while you had been on the pill since you were fifteen, Jimin and you hadn’t started having condomless sex until the third month of dating. But once you started, you never went back. Your clit doesn’t need much to get it going and you’re already gushing like a broken faucet so Jimin thrusts his cock into you without much pomp or circumstance. As always, you gasp at the intrusion. Not only does your boyfriend have a sizable length, but he’s also girthy as hell and whenever he first fills you up, he takes your breath away.
According to Jimin, it’s because you don’t work out and you’re possibly asthmatic. At that you always smack the back side of his head and tell him no, it’s grossly romantic that he can take your breath away with his fine ass dick game, and your lung capacity is fine for someone who wasn’t in the church choir for twelve years. Yes, your boyfriend is a former church boy. If only Father Thomas could see how low he had fallen. But compliments about Jimin’s dick always makes the cocky, pun intended, jerk smirk like a self-satisfied Cheshire cat and giggle adorably. He is a stunning contradiction of a man. Sometimes you want to suffocate him with your thighs, other times with a pillow.
He shallowly thrusts in you once, twice before he unexpectedly takes almost his entire dick out of your folds before slamming back into you so vigorously that it makes your thighs quiver, wrapped as they are around his waist. He’s so deep in you that you can feel the clean shaven base of his cock pressed against your mons. From there on it’s a frantic joining of the two of your bodies as Jimin furiously pounds into you, letting out all of his frustrations from the past week onto your body in the form of turbulent love making. You hold on for dear life, clutching onto his broad shoulders as your mouth slides against Jimin’s ear, softly whispering how much you love him and how you’ll always be there for him and how there’s no one else in the world more perfectly suited for you than your beloved boyfriend.
When he finally cums into you, a messy and molten flow of whiteness that paints your insides and then leaks out from the overflow, proof that your poor darling truly didn’t have a moment recently to let off some steam, the male wearily drags his body away from yours so he can return with a damp cloth to clean you up between your legs. As you drowsily look up at him and make grabby hands, he gently slaps them away, before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and brushing back your hair, tucking in a lock behind your ear.
“I need to go, baby,” he bemoans, “But I’ll see you tonight, okay? I’m setting an alarm on your phone to wake you up in an hour so you don’t oversleep and then have to rush to get ready.”
“Sweet baby,” you murmur, locking your arms around his neck and keeping him in place.
“Considerate baby,” Jimin argues, tenderly moving his hands up to encircle your wrists and pull your arms away from him so he’s no longer trapped in your hold. “I love you, Y/N.”
“Love you,” you parrot drowsily, your eyes slowly falling shut as Jimin walks around your room to gather his clothes and then get ready to leave. He remembers to grab the shopping bag from Nordstrom you stuffed his costume in, not that you would ever shop there to buy a one time Halloween costume. It’s more likely that you reused the bag. He squints in confusion when all he sees is a mess of brightly colored fabric within it but he just shrugs, too tired from the sex to work up enough brain power to guess what his costume is. He then heads out the door, not forgetting to lock it behind him.
When you wake up to your annoying ass alarm an hour later—now why the fuck did Jimin use the quacking ducks preset as the ringtone? You feel boneless yet still exhausted. You tiredly drag yourself into the shower to get the smell of sex off your body and wash your hair, though it’s going to be hidden under a wig, just so you can feel squeaky clean before you put on your costume.
You and Jimin are dressing up as Ken and Barbie from Toy Story 3, and in your opinion the costumes don’t look half bad. You were running late with the costume planning in between everything you had on your plate this month but a successful run at the thrift store has given you plenty to work with. You ended up with explosively colored outfits for both of you, although they were more loosely inspired than exact replicas. After all, this is Greek life, you have to amp up the sex appeal for both of your costumes.
For yourself, this means that instead of wearing Barbie’s electric blue jumpsuit, you are wearing a bright turquoise bodysuit with a deep plunging neckline that divides your bust in two and goes all the way to your midriff, fortunately keeping your navel concealed even as it dips dangerously low. The pink belt that goes around Barbie’s waist is instead a hot pink belted choker around your neck but you are rocking the green, white, pink, and blue 80s inspired leg warmers she was wearing as well as patent leather stiletto pumps in the same pink as your collar. Your look is finished off with a wild blue smokey eye and iridescent pale pink lips, and after you are done with your makeup, you struggle to make your synthetic blond wig not look completely awful on your head.
As you leave for Pi Beta Phi, you grab your purse, keys, and phone but a quick step outside reveals that the weather has gone unexpectedly chilly, making you rush back to the apartment and grab the first piece of outerwear you see – which happens to be Jimin’s oversized light colored denim jacket he left in your apartment two weeks ago.
It’s probably for the best that you’re wearing the jacket, you think to yourself as you wobbly make your way across the hilly sidewalks that lead to Greek row in your stiletto heels. Your entire ass is out in the leotard-esque bodysuit and had you not been wearing a coat, the boys walking behind you surely would’ve gotten quite the show all the way uphill.
At the house, your sisters are busily running around making sure everything is perfect and ready for the party. They have made Pi Phi manor look great, although it leans towards the glitzy and glam side of decorations rather than the cute and spooky side. Black and orange is prominent throughout the entire house however, with the grand staircase railing done up with black poofy garlands and glittery orange streamers. You sign yourself and Jimin for the costume contest and then grab a red solo cup of apple cider – non-alcoholic since sororities aren't allowed to serve substances on their grounds, thanks to a decidedly sexist rule that never gets changed no matter how many elections pass – before heading back outside to watch the costumed guests walk up.
Your sisters and their guests are hanging around the cute little games that were set up on the grass. There’s a beanbag toss where the bags are all white and decorated with the faces of various mischievous ghosts as well as a cider bottle toss. You know that your boyfriend will get excited by the pumpkin smash station so you pointedly walk far away from it to the other side of the lawn where you see a couple of your friends surrounding the giant tin containers that have been set up for apple bobbing. Jimin’s fraternity brothers Seokjin and Namjoon are on their knees, since the basins are too low for their tall statures, while Namjoon’s girlfriend cheers for them as Jungkook simultaneously jeers them on.
Seokjin is dressed in a sailor costume that leaves little to the imagination. He has a peaked captain’s cap placed jauntily on his dark brown hair while his slutty outfit consists of white suspenders strapped onto navy skin clinging short shorts. A white and navy striped sailor collar hangs over his Pacific Ocean wide shoulders that ties in the front with the two floppy end pieces bouncing against his pecs from any sudden movements. Apparently, you were mistaken when you had thought that his nautical nod for the night meant that he would be a sexy merman. Seokjin seems to prefer a slutty sailor. His hands are clasped behind his back as he bends down to bite down on an apple.
Namjoon on the other hand is fully prepared for the costume contest in a TV accurate depiction of Khal Drogo. You don’t doubt for a second that it was his girlfriend’s idea as the brown girl is dressed as Daenerys Targaryen and looks picture perfect as the mother of dragons with her freshly bleached hair. She keeps rubbing her hands over Namjoon’s bare shoulders and back as the male bobs for his own apple, all while keeping the lookout for Jungkook with narrowed eyes since the male seems dead set on shoving one of his hyungs’ heads underwater.
Just as Jungkook nudges Seokjin into the steel bucket of water with his knee, you hear someone shout your name. You look towards the sidewalk where Jimin’s walking up, looking like the perfect Ken from Toy Story 3 and you immediately dart away from your friends to jump into his arms.
“Jimin,” you hum, kissing his cheek as your arms tighten around his neck. The male strengthens the hold he has on your thighs, holding you more securely against him as he walks the two of you back to the apple bobbing crew.
“Y/N, what is your costume?” he asks while perplexedly scrunching his slightly pinkened face up, flushed from the biting cold air of the autumn night, as he easily sets you down and looks at the denim jacket swallowing your frame and the blonde wig that seems strangely out of place, “Now I’m even less sure of who I’m meant to be.”
You stare at Jimin. He’s wearing the brightly colored abstract print shirt completely open, letting you stare at his sunkissed rock hard abdominal muscles as well as the platinum bars that decorated his pecs. You sneakily stretch your hand forward so that you can possessively press your palm against his Nevermind tattoo and he snorts, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and squeezing you close to him. Your eyes make their way from his face to his neck where he haphazardly tied the blue bandana you got for him, the shade matching the exact color of your bodysuit. You untie it and redo it for him in a perfect Ascot knot.
“You’re Ken from Toy Story 3,” you explain, “It was hard finding the right shirt though,” you pout cutely at him.
Jimin tucks his hands into the small pockets of the light blue shorts he is wearing, cuffed to be even shorter. You forgot to account for how bootylicious Jimin is or how thick his thighs are because the cloth is tighter than you anticipated, clinging to his lower half like a second skin. You frown, biting your lip, no one better stare at his ass, suddenly possessed by jealousy. This peach is for your viewing pleasure only.
“Barbie doesn’t dress like that,” Jimin nods at his jacket, clearly indicating that he wants you to take it off so he can see what you’ve got on underneath.
“I was cold,” you defend yourself, but you slip off the outerwear and give it to the male to hold onto.
Jimin narrows his eyes as he walks around you to get the full 360° view, taking his chance to smack your ass lightly when he’s behind you. “You can put the coat back on if you’re cold,” he says nicely, sounding chivalrous though you know it’s more likely because he is just as possessive of your ass as you are of his, and both of your cheeks are practically hanging out due to the high cut of the leotard.
“Nice costume, hyung,” Jungkook nods in Jimin’s direction, handing him off an apple he clearly swiped from the game.
“Thanks,” Jimin snorts, putting the apple into your pocket instead of having it rest against his warm thighs in his shorts’ pockets. “What the hell are you supposed to be?”
Jungkook is shirtless and wearing a pair of crimson colored hot pants. You don’t have a damn clue what he is meant to be either. “The devil.”
“Where are your horns,” you scoff, crossing your arms as you narrow your eyes at him, very visibly and judgmentally looking him up and down, unimpressed by his lack of effort.
At that Jungkook’s eyes widen as he frantically pats the top of his curly black locks, “Shit, Sooyeon is gonna kill me.” And with that the male disappears into the fray, heading back into the sorority house to find the headpiece to his costume.
Jimin smiles, rocking back and forth on his feet, “I saw a jar of candy corn. If I guess the amount in it correctly or get the closest to it, I get to keep the jar.”
“Jimin, you hate candy corn,” you complain as you take his hand and allow him to pull you through the party so that you guys can walk around and see all the attractions.
“I could donate it. Or,” your boyfriend pauses, lower lip getting bitten as his brows become furrowed, “Halloween’s actually on Sunday. I could give it to the trick or treaters.”
“Children come by to the frat to get candy?!” you shriek, aghast at the thought. Those poor kids, getting scarred for life. The thought of them witnessing the shenanigans that Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook get up to has you distressed.
“Actually, we have a little event we do at the local elementary school. We play games. They show a PG-rated spooky movie in the auditorium and there’s little goodie bags we made earlier this week with individually wrapped candy and ghost and pumpkin stickers,” Jimin rambles, his cheeks going up and his eyes getting all squinty as he excitedly explains to you.
A soft smile overtakes your face as well, “That’s really sweet, Jimin, but what if you don’t end up doing anything with the candy corn because you forget? Wish it were jelly beans. Or even gummy worms.”
“I would do so well, though,” he grumbles, running a veiny hand through his silver locks, pushing the strands back and off of his forehead, “I’d win.”
“I know you would. You’re really good at estimating, but since we both know you’d win... Do we really need a 6 pound jar of waxy corn syrup flavored junk?”
“Disgusting,” mutters Jimin, and then he gently swings your attached arms back and forth as you both go deeper into the fray.
There’s a Quidditch themed butterbeer pong game that you’re pretty sure has been illegally set up, that you and Jimin spend most of your time at, drinking the disgusting butterscotch flavored soda – when you’re not at the snacks table eating the Southern bbq your sorority had catered, as well as all the sickeningly sweet seasonally appropriate desserts your sisters had either baked or bought.
Slightly sluggish from your full tummies, you guys finally go up to the cute little section inside the front entrance to the house where the formerly giant open space has been turned into a little stage with seats for the audience wishing to watch the costume party. Your Pi Beta Phi president, Sariya, is waving her little bedazzled orange and purple gavel like she thinks she’s a judge requesting order in the courtroom. You and Jimin speed walk your ways to getting seats in the far back, where you can make a quick escape if necessary.
You guys make it through several of the costumes, the highlights being Jisoo, Lisa, Jennie, and Rosé being dressed up as the teletubbies; Namjoon and his girlfriend providing steep competition as a Dothraki and Daenerys although you don’t think they’re going to win since pretty much everyone hated the last season of “Game of Thrones;” and several groups and couples embarrassingly dressing like characters from the ever popular Squid Game which is 2021’s version of how literally every couple dressed like Harley Quinn and the Joker from “Suicide Squad” in 2016. Then, it’s finally time for you and Jimin to hit the stage. You pull off the denim jacket and put it on a chair off to the side of the stage before you rush to catch up to your boyfriend and walk on stage with him hand in hand.
Your sorority’s chapter president announces that the two of you are dressed up as Barbara “Barbie” Roberts and Kenneth Carson as the two of you spin around and do little twirls to let everyone see your costumes from all angles. This is met with a second of split silence since no one knows the iconic Mattel couple’s full names but then she continues to tack on, “Barbie and Ken from Toy Story 3!” At that the audience is wracked with cheers since the third movie has always been the fan favorite out of the franchise. Though it could have easily been just as likely that they were screaming at how much skin you and Jimin were both revealing. The two of you skip off the stage feeling pretty secure about your victory since the cheers for you two were the loudest they’ve been all night.
“I think it helps that you have such nice muscles and proportions, you look like the perfect male,” you smirk as you feel your way up Jimin’s chest, smoothing your palm over his abs and flicking one of his nipples. Your/Jimin’s jacket is hanging in the crook of your other arm, you’re reluctant to put it back on until after your victory lap from being announced as the winners.
Jimin immediately grabs you by the wrist after the nip flick, “Don’t do that,” he reprimands gently and then he pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder and trapping your arms under his embrace so your sly hands can’t feel him up some more. He has the two of you facing the stage as Jungkook and his girlfriend Sooyeon take the stage. Jungkook’s in the aforementioned bright red booty shorts but has somehow managed to find his devil horns and is using a red silicone spatula as a pitchfork. His girlfriend is dressed in a white lace babydoll nightie from Victoria’s secret and has a fuzzy white halo on, though her wings are nowhere to be seen.
“Who would vote for that,” scoffs Seokjin, materializing next to you two from out of nowhere, making Jimin let out a surprised shriek that he attempts to conceal by turning it into a deep grunt. “He stole that spatula from our kitchen.”
Yeah, all of you are judging their costumes hard. It’s easily the outfits where the least amount of effort was made. Every single person dressed as a Squid Game character looks better than them. Unlike you and Seokjin, who are embroiled in a heavy discussion of Halloween costumes, Jimin is distracted as he contemplates how to get snacks and get back to you before the announcement is made. When his perusal of the space makes his eyes catch on two gentlemen looking you up and down, their gazes trapped to your chest, he immediately makes you put the jacket back on. You smile at him thanking him, because God, there’s nothing worse than creepy unwanted attention. Like, why can’t men ever let you be a baddie in peace?
When the winner gets announced ten minutes later as Jungkook and Sooyeon, you start screeching and attempt to run up to the stage to fight the judges. Jimin, knowing what would happen if you lost, grabs a hold of you and hugs you to his chest as you kick and squirm. When you break a hold of Jimin’s grasp to lodge the apple from Jungkook that had remained in your jacket pocket this entire time at the aforementioned male, Jimin grabs onto you again, tightening his arms around you and locking you against him even harder. Beside you two, Namjoon is similarly enraged, having found the group with his girlfriend after the announcements were made. He says it screams rigged since Sooyeon is the chapter vice president, and his girlfriend lets him rant to her though it’s clear from the way she’s undressing his already half naked body with her eyes, she’s not listening to a word he’s saying.
As you glare at Jungkook, giving him a stink eye from where he’s accepting the dumb little trophy on stage, Jimin takes the chance to hike you up over his shoulder as he carries you away from the sorority. He keeps dragging your jacket down to cover your cute butt from where it is beside his head, not only because it distracts him while he’s walking but also because he doesn’t want any other perverts looking at it. Jimin is the only pervert that’s allowed to openly fawn over you.
You let him carry you this way halfway down the street before you start squirming and tell him you can walk by yourself. The male hesitantly lowers you beside him, watching you with narrowed eyes as you stalk forward, growling under your breath about stupid nepotism and how you could never hold a more important role at your sorority because you weren’t a legacy Pi Phi, wishing you had a dozen more apples you could aim at Jungkook and Sooyeon’s heads.
“Hey,” Jimin protests as he runs ahead to catch up to you, “Community outreach chair is very important too, Y/N. Don’t undersell yourself just because Sooyeon got all her friends to vote for her.”
“It’s not fair, Jimin—” you cut yourself off, clearly holding back the meaner things you wanted to say. Instead, you change the subject, “Are we really going to the haunted house, Jimin? Last year you abandoned me in a corn maze.”
“I didn’t abandon you,” Jimin argues immediately, still disagreeing with you a year later, his brown eyes glinting as he rolls them at you, “You got lost… in a maze… because it’s a maze. They’re designed that way.”
“You let go of my hand,” you pout, your lower lip quivering, the pale sparkly lipstick making it look like your mouth is covered in fairy dust.“You left me. I still have nightmares. I found a random ass crop circle. I was literally seconds away from being abducted by aliens,” You declare dramatically before then crossing your arms, frowning deeply though you don’t change paths and continue to walk in the direction of his fraternity.
“I won’t do that this time, Y/N, I promise. And this is just a basic frat run haunted house. It won't be anything like Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios. Hobi hyung and Yoongi hyung got dragged into playing the role of the scarers. Hobi hyung is dressed as Edward Scissorhands but honestly, do you really think he is the type of person who is good at scaring others?” Jimin has to admit he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from snorting the second you mentioned the crop circle and aliens. You are literally the most paranoid person he knows. Even worse than Hobi hyung although he knows you’ll disagree.
You furrow your brows, they got the resident scaredy cat Jung Hoseok to participate in the haunted house? Hoseok’s fear tolerance is much lower than yours. Last year, you and he ended up alone in Jimin’s apartment while Jimin went downstairs to pick up the pizza delivery and Hoseok ended up screaming his head off when the two of you saw a giant spider on the ceiling. He demanded that as his junior, you kill the creature – which you tried, but it only resulted in failure. After all, Jimin is the one that kills bugs in your relationship. When Jimin came back into the apartment, half of it was burned down from the two of your attempts. Well… not really, but you are exaggerating to make a point.
“Come on, Y/N, one quick run through the house and then we can go to my room on the next floor. I bought you snacks and we can watch Nightmare Before Christmas together,” he suggests biting down on his lip.
“Fine,” you whine, stomping with one of your pink leather encased feet, “But this time, no letting go of me!” And with that you speedily shuffle into Jimin’s arms and make him awkwardly walk with you the rest of the way since it felt like you two were practically conjoined with how close you remain to him the entire time.
“It’s going to be fun, Y/N,” Jimin murmurs as he takes out the tickets he got for you two earlier in the evening and hands them off to Taehyung who is manning the entrance as the clown from It. He has a face full of white makeup on and had even drawn on Pennywise’s terrifying red smile with the crimson paint running through his cheeks to cut right across his eyes and go into his forehead in two curvy lines from the end of his smile. The male had teased his blond hair into the shape of the dancing clown’s iconic hair before spraying with temporary orange hair chalk.
“For you,” you grumble, pointedly stepping around Jimin to his other side to avoid Taehyung and his unnerving costume, “But as long as you play the role of my dashing protective knight in shining armor, I shall try to persist.”
Beta Tau Sigma is the first male fraternity that was founded in your university. Though their massive mansion gets major renovations every five to ten years, the Victorian structure was built in the 1800s. So when the boys convert it into a spooky haunt, it is successfully terrifying.
From the moment you step in, fog clouds the interior, making you clamber to Jimin’s side, pressing into him when you can’t see more than five feet ahead of you clearly. To your utter dismay, the frat’s brothers have taken advantage of the location’s history and how it houses so many young individuals and made that the central theme for night. It is designed like a cross between an asylum and a school for troubled minds and Yoongi leaps out scaring the living shit out of you three minutes into your traipse through the first floor, dressed up as Hannibal Lector in his bright orange prison garb and tiger-esque hockey mask.
Jimin is, of course, unfazed. He stares at Yoongi with a wry lopsided smirk gracing his lips before striking a conversation with his hyung. You try to justify your reaction, and Jimin’s lack thereof, by convincing yourself that your boyfriend didn’t react because he already saw Yoongi today in his costume and you hadn’t, so your jump, followed by the screech that had you ducking your head into Jimin’s chest, was a reasonable reaction.
“Do you think I would be less scared if I closed my eyes and had you blindly direct me through this place?” you ask, seriously considering it, quickly flapping your shimmery blue lids shut.
“Don’t do that, Y/N, it’ll make the music seem even louder to you,” Jimin warns, as he gently pushes you forward so that the two of you can now make it up the stairs to the second floor.
Your neck hairs stand at his words as goosebumps take over your entire body. Now that Jimin has mentioned the music, you can hear the eerie Tethered remix of “I Got 5 On It” as it finishes off and is replaced with a creepy instrumental remix of Melanie Martinez’s “Carousel” as though the playlist is blasting in your ears, attacking your eardrums. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But, Jimin! I hate this,” you cry out, sharply snapping your eyes open, before you gingerly make your way up the stairs.
Each step is covered with fake cobwebs and as you move your legs the giant spider and snake decorations on the banisters and railings start to move, activated by motion sensors and making weird broken noises. It’s definitely not the scariest part of this entire thing but you flinch every time a fuzzy pincer or a plastic reptilian tail brushes against you and you find yourself dashing through the rest of the stairs though Jimin hurriedly calls out for you to wait for him.
At the landing for the next floor, you wait for your boyfriend and when he finally slings an arm around your shoulders, the two of you take off again. This floor has bedrooms, though, and some of the brothers that live on it have given up their spaces to be used as miniature themed scare rooms, though not every door is open and available for the public to walk into. You and Jimin make your way through one of them that has been set up to look like a medical operating room as well as another set up like a bedroom with screaming frat members strapped into beds with metal frames that try to grab you as you wake by them before the trouble starts.
Later, Jimin will say he told you not to move and wait for him while you will argue with him that you heard him say nothing so you moved on like everything was fine and dandy. You’re in a room that looks like an abandoned classroom or something of the sort when things go awry. You won’t be able to appreciate how they converted the study room until months later because you receive the worst fright of your life there.
As you make your way through the desks towards the whiteboard at the front, the lights flicker before turning off completely and then the room, that’s already cold from the air conditioning blasting throughout the entire fraternity, begins to fill with fog. When the lights turn back on five seconds later, you blink, seeing dark spots from the abrupt brightness. As your eyes focus, you let out an earth shattering scream when you notice that there are two grown ass men who are much taller and bigger than you dressed like the Grady Twins from The Shining, brown shoulder length wigs, light blue dresses, white stockings and all, standing two feet away from you looking both incredibly imposing and impossibly threatening.
You fall to the ground and let yourself crumble into a ball, wrapping your arms around your legs as you press your shiny cobalt eye-shadowed eyelids against your icy knees. Jimin bursts into the room a minute later, following the sound of your shriek and immediately drops down on the ground next to you to wrap his arms around you and hugs you to his chest, squishing your face, the part that's not pressed against your knees, against his shoulder. He cradles your head into him as he brushes his hand over your hair several times soothingly.
You can hear him gruffly asking Soobin and Yeonjun to take five and vacate the room. The underclassmen readily do so since Jimin is a vice president of the chapter this year. Unlike your sorority, which has one president and vice president and then several chairs, Jimin’s fraternity has three vice presidents since it has a much larger student body. Namjoon’s the president, of course, while Yoongi is the external vice president with Hoseok dealing with internal affairs. Jimin is the member development vice president and since rush is over, his workload is a little lighter than the other heads’ at the moment.
“Y/N, I told you not to leave me,” he chastises as he somehow manages to pick you up from the ground and carry you as you wrap yourself around his body like a koala, clinging to his front. You burrow your nose, which feels like an icicle, into his collarbone as you tighten your arms around his neck like a noose. Your boyfriend, feeling horrible about your scare, ignores the discomfort that comes from the frosty contact of your skin against his.
As Jimin grasps your thighs more securely, you cross your legs even more tightly over his hips, “You didn’t tell me anything! I thought you were with me the entire time,” you cry out. You have no idea how your mascara and eyeliner are holding up but you hope they keep their waterproof promise as you start to sob again.
He brushes a kiss across the top of your head before he unexpectedly rushes to spit out a plastic strand of hair out of his mouth, having forgotten that you were wearing a wig since it was so dark inside the mansion. “Y/N, I don’t want to play the blame game with you when you’re in distress but, sweetheart, you walked away from me in the corn maze too. Y/N, if I’m going to be holding your hand the entire way through so you don’t get scared, you can’t let go of my hand and then blame me when you get frightened later on,” he harps softly, trying to keep condemnation out of his voice.
You pause your crying to protest, “You let go of my hand!” You still haven’t quite regained your senses and you keep attacking Jimin, whether validly or not… who’s to say? One thing’s for sure: the shock from your fear is keeping you from reacting rationally.
“Y/N, I told you I was going to tie my shoes and to not move, didn’t you hear me?” he asks, walking through the rest of the attractions without any harassment from the scarers. He’s guessing that Soobin and Yeonjun told them to leave the two of you alone, or the sight of Jimin carrying his obviously distressed girlfriend throughout the second floor has the other scarers giving you two a wide breadth. Hoseok even walks in the opposite direction with his cool scissor hands as he sees Jimin going for the next flight of stairs to the floor that has his bedroom.
“I didn’t hear anything, baby,” you mumble honestly, biting on your lip again, the soft waxy pink from your lipstick having long been worn off, “I swear.”
Jimin squeezes you around the middle, “Maybe it was just a misunderstanding,” he seems willing to let it go. He obviously doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night arguing with you.
Though it would have been infinitely easier for him to get his keycard out and open his dorm door if he put you down, Jimin lets you cling to him and one handedly hunts for the card in his wallet and then pushes the door open wide with his back, allowing the two of you to enter.
“I’m gonna set you down on my bed and change out of this costume okay, Y/N?” he asks, “Just because the costume party and this didn’t go as planned doesn’t mean we have to end the night on a bad note, yeah? Take off your shoes and wig, baby, and put Disney+ on. I’m going to get the snacks I bought yesterday out.”
You stare at Jimin, forgetting to do as he’s told you as you gaze enraptured by his handsomeness and natural charisma. As you watch Jimin peel off his multicolored shirt and shorts to abandon them in favor of a pair of black sweats, he mischievously smirks at you, playfully winking and giving a little strip tease which then shifts to him dragging his hand down his bare abdomen as he cutely yet sexily performs a hip roll for you which ends with a violent hip thrust that makes it clear that even with how cold it’s been tonight, the male is already at half-mast and still growing, his arousal undeterred by the chill.
The light smile that has been gracing your face disappears when Jimin sinks to his knees before you to pull your pink leather pumps off and you unexpectedly find yourself bursting into tears, distraught from the immense kindness and care Jimin has shown you tonight. This results in your boyfriend looking sharply up at you in abrupt alarm, puppy eyes widened as a look of deep concern takes over his entire face.
Jimin wiggles his way in between your legs, standing on his knees which make him basically the same height as you even with you sitting on his bed which is much higher. His hands, a little red from earlier outside, are freezing as they palm your cheeks and swipe both of his thumbs under your eyes at the same time to wipe away the fallen tears.
“Y/N, you need to tell me what’s wrong, right now,” your boyfriend stresses as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth, his crooked tooth digging into the plump flesh. As he pulls your blond wig off your hair he continues, “Baby, you’ve been off all day and it’s been getting worse and worse. You’re crying. What is it? Did I break a boundary in the haunted house? You wouldn’t cry over not winning a contest, right?”
You pull the wig cap off your darker natural hair, undoing the bun and finger-combing through it. Your bottom lip quivers as you pointedly look away from Jimin. How can you tell him? It’s your burden, not his. But how can you not tell him? It’s been eating you up inside, keeping it all to yourself.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you confess, pulling Jimin’s hands off you to bury your face in your own as you sob loudly behind your palms. Even as your eyes leak with salty tears you’re unable to control, you know that Jimin’s probably looking at you in bewilderment and possibly a little frustration that he can’t fix this for you since you still haven’t told him what’s wrong. You wish you had a makeup wipe to rub off all the makeup on your face that’s getting muddled from your tears.
“Do what? That sounds like something you say to someone when you want to break up,” he angrily spits out.
That makes you peek out from behind the darkness and protection of your hands. You look at your boyfriend and he looks livid. He looks like you have completely blindsided him and as though he immensely resents you for it. His thick eyebrows are furrowed low and his plump rose colored lips are pressed into thin white lines. His eyes are tinged with red and watery as they hold in unshed tears and glare at you with hard brown irises full of indignation. He has his arms crossed over his bare chest as he backs away from you, standing stiffly as he stares you down and you already know he’s closing up and getting his guard up. Soon, he won’t listen to a word you say.
Shit. No. NO NO NO. You’re panicking immediately, your hand coming up to your mouth but you instantly force it aside, knowing you can’t bite your nails anxiously when your relationship is falling apart right before your eyes.
“Jimin, no—Jimin, I wouldn’t,” you stammer hurriedly, tripping over your words in your rush to get them out fast enough while Jimin still is open to hearing you out.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Why did you have to stumble over your words like this? You can’t even talk properly, you think in disgust. You tried to blurt out your words fast enough so Jimin’s mood doesn’t darken over the heavy misunderstanding even more, but you can’t even speak.
NO! This can’t be happening to you two right now.
Finally you just scream out, the words frantically being pulled from your throat in your incredible frustration and distraughtness, “Jimin, I’m not breaking up with you. I swear to God. Jimin, I swear on my own fucking life, too!” You sob in anguish, “Jimin, please? Listen to me. I swear—I wasn’t thinking when I said that. Baby, please! This has nothing to do with you. Baby, this is just a miscommunication error—Please?” you implore, gulping and gasping in between every inconsolable plea, “I can’t lose you.”
“Tell me right now, Y/N,” Jimin spits out. His words are so hard they pierce through your heart like ice. He’s closing off, you despair. “I am so sick of today, Y/N. Maybe it’s gone on for even longer. I don’t like this month. We can’t continue like this.”
You ignore the anger that prickles through you. It’s not as though this is your fault entirely. He’s the one who is rude to you when you reach out. Maybe you’re more mad about him saying earlier that he didn’t want to talk than you thought. But this isn’t the moment for that fight. You need to rein in your temper and tell him what’s been eating you up inside. That thing with Jimin? It could be dealt with at another time.
You exhale shakily. It’s loud and uneven but you manage to get in and out a few more pulls of air before you attempt to talk to him. He stares at you stonily from where he’s perched against his wooden dresser the entire time. How has the night gone so wrong? Oh right—you ruined everything.
“This is humiliating, but. God, Jimin. I had to drop my Chemistry course. I was failing it,” you bitterly bite out, wiping away angry tears, “But it was far enough along in the semester that I couldn’t just drop it and enroll myself into another class to replace the units. And then I got a call from the financial aid office that this would drop my standing from a full-time to a part-time student this semester and I would have to pay them back part of my aid since they had disbursed it already, but part time students receive less money than full time students.
“And I thought it would be fine because, you know... I dropped a class and I suddenly opened my schedule up for more shifts and a second job.
“But God. My landlord increased our rent starting from October because he only lets us pay month to month in that stupid building and not have yearly leases. I never saw that as a problem before when I used to think it meant I could leave at any moment but... Pi Phi has gotten so fucking expensive too.”
You clamp down hard on your lips tasting wax and something vanilla-y from the remnants of your lipstick. As you think about Pi Phi, you are suddenly filled with a blistering rage. It causes you to growl out, “And I hate the stupid sorority, Jimin! They keep asking more and more out of me in every single way. They not only want my money but they want my time. My fucking blood, sweat, and tears.
“WHY THE HELL DO I HAVE TO PAY FOR A MEAL PLAN AT THE PI PHI HOUSE WHEN I DON’T EVEN LIVE THERE OR EAT THERE?” you suddenly lose even more of your cool, screaming about it for the first time. Finally able to unload your frustration at the events that have upended your entire life, “For the monthly chapter dinners??” you hiss and then venomously bite out, “Why aren’t the chapter events paid for with what they take from us in the form of dues already?!” It’s obvious you think you’re being swindled.
“I don’t have time either, Jimin. I picked up so many extra shifts for everything since I was low on cash after paying back the university. My grades have even started to suffer. What am I supposed to do? I’m trapped in this stupid sorority. I can’t leave or my children and I will be blacklisted from Pi Phi forever. I won’t have the damn connections I spent the last three years building when I start job hunting. And I already spent all that money and it’s gone down the drain if I leave.” you lividly brush away the tears that fall from your eyes, immensely chagrined at your delicate emotions and how you seem to be spilling tears at the drop of a hat, unable to control them.
“But, Jimin... I might be fucking homeless too if I can’t pick up shifts because of Pi Phi obligations. What am I supposed to do?”
Jimin rushes to you, basically tackling you as he wraps his arms around you and the two of you fall back onto the bed. Your hair is a dark halo around your head as Jimin squishes you into the mattress. “Y/N? My lovely Y/N. My precious angelic Y/N. My darling sweet Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me, baby?” he murmurs as he brushes soft kisses all over your face as he overwhelms you with tender compliments to make up for earlier when he mistakenly accused you of attempting to break up with him.
“I don’t want handouts from you, Jimin,” you fiercely protest, your eyes still glittering from unshed liquid, “I know you. You can’t stand it when someone you love or care about is going through something terrible. You want to fix it immediately, You’re a problem solver but I’m not your damsel in distress, Jimin. This isn’t your burden to carry or your problem to solve.”
Jimin just smiles at you lightly, evidently your boyfriend feels incredibly terrible about his outburst earlier that had led to his unfounded accusations. He also smiles in an attempt to control his anger, since it shouldn’t be entirely directed at you anyways, so it comes out a little rough and toothy, “It’s okay to ask for help, Y/N. You might not be my damsel in distress to save but no one said you had to slay all your dragons by yourself.”
“I don’t want your money Jimin,” you push against his shoulder, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but his dumb muscled frame doesn’t move an inch. Why is he so strong and solid? You’re no longer appreciative of how he can cart you along without breaking a sweat.
“I wasn’t going to give you money but I do have an idea,” he admits, tightening his arms around you as he rolls the two of you around so he’s no longer suffocating you underneath him. You struggle against his hold but are unsuccessful at loosening it even though your chances of escape should have increased since you are no longer buried underneath him. Quickly, you give up and flop back onto him, resting your head on his hard pectoral muscles. You can hear his heartbeat and it feels terribly intimate, making you struggle once more restlessly. You can’t stand this overwhelming downpour of love and acceptance from Jimin when you’ve treated him like shit today and continuously implied that he had a tendency to ditch you in scary situations.
“No ideas. I can do it by myself,” you protest stubbornly, lightly banging your head against the smooth silken expanse of his chest. You eye the tanned surface with narrowed eyes and contemplate whether you should bite him to show your ire, leaving a crescent of teeth marks on one of his generously endowed pectorals. You will that urge away and sigh.
“But you don’t have to,” Jimin cheerfully sings, with your eyes snapped shut against his warm skin you can’t see his face, but you have no doubt that he’s smiling widely at the moment. “Clearly, you can’t manage the stress.”
“Don’t, Jimin,” you warn, turning your head to the side so your lips are right by a tender nipple before taking it between your teeth, rolling the nub between it and biting down roughly. Evidently, you don’t have remarkable restraint. “I’ll hate you forever.”
“That’s an interesting dilemma you’re presenting me,” Jimin grins through the pain though you felt his full body wince and the way his body flinched away from you when you bit him, making you smirk deviously. His voice takes on the same tone as when he makes you listen to the stupid shit his Philosophy professor makes them argue about which then results in Jimin forcing you to counteract all of his arguments before the debates in class. “I don’t think you’ll hate me for what I’m going to suggest. But you know what, Y/N? If I ever had the opportunity to save you from ruin but it would result in you resenting me, I think I would still do it. I love you too much to let you live in misery.”
“I’m only in misery when I don’t have you, Jimin,” you disagree, pouting, “Everything else doesn’t matter.”
“Great,” Jimin grins, smacking a loud kiss against your lips, taking advantage of how enticing your puckered up lips look, rubbing off the remnants of your lipstick even more, “You’re gonna love my suggestion.”
“Ugh,” you groan in defeat, “Fine, let's hear it.”
“Let me move in with you.”
“Absolutely not!” you immediately protest, slapping a beefy bicep, and then pinching it lightly because that’s a dumb idea. No. He’s not moving in with you.
Jimin rolls his eyes, “Oh, come on. I spend more time at your apartment than my frat because you can’t fall asleep when you’re alone. You think someone is going to break in and murder you. You desperately need a roommate, or a better long term solution, and who is better than the guy who already spends so much time at your place that he should’ve probably started paying rent all the way back to August? Y/N, you spend so much money buying groceries that I end up finishing because you feel bad for making me spend nights with you that you feel like you have to pay me in ‘dinner and sex.’ Which, by the way, I don’t need constant food and sex, Y/N. I mean it’s nice but you’re not obligated to fulfill both those needs every time I’m at your place.”
“Jimin, you already paid for the entire year at your frat. You’re the vice president. You need to stay on deck at all times. You’re so important to Beta Tau,” you were not going to let Jimin waste money on an empty dorm. You knew how expensive Panhellenic housing was. Jimin probably paid for an exorbitantly expensive meal plan too. You ignore the comments about the food and the sex. You and Jimin cannot last more than five days without touching each other. Also, despite what Jimin says, he fully believes that you make the best Korean food out of anyone he knows at university. He’d probably wither and die if he had to live without your cooking since his diet otherwise consists solely of greasy takeout and energy drinks.
“First of all I’m a vice president not the vice president. Also, officers actually get free housing. That’s why the elections are so stiff every year. It’s the same reason that most of us decide to stay here instead of getting an apartment. We’re not being forced to stay and there’s no evil landlords trying to hike rent up illegally. Besides, it’s likely that a sophomore is going to be praising God the second he gets notified he got taken off the housing waitlist because a room just opened up. And it’s a single! Only officers get singles. Let me make that guy’s entire year, Y/N.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” you shyly mumble, looking down at Jimin’s chest and the glittering jewelry on his nipples to avoid eye contact.
“Mmhmm,” Jimin agrees, placing two fingers under your jaw and tilting your face up, “Let me help you,” he whispers across your lips before pressing them against his own.
You break apart from the languid kiss to gasp softly, your breathing still raggedly from your crying earlier, and finally concede, “Okay.”
And just like that. It’s like a switch has been flipped. Now that your boyfriend is under the understanding that he has just fixed everything, caring thoughtful Jimin goes away as horny wicked Jimin takes his place.
The look Jimin casts over your entire body as his darkened brown eyes nonchalantly track their way down is diabolical. He has no idea how your body suit is staying attached to your chest when its cut down the middle to your navel and he immediately has both of his hands going up to your breasts to cup them – his fingers slipping into your bodice, gripping onto the sparkly blue cloth before he roughly pulls them off the soft mounds. You glare at him as the sticky tape you used to keep the cups in position gets pulled off your body, leaving red marks on your skin where the adhesive had been.
Jimin ducks his head down, nosing your puffy nipples that begin to tighten once exposed to the chilly air, in apology. As his nose brushes against the sensitive nubs, hardening them, his mouth seeks those agitated red patches of skin, swiping fat strokes with his tongue over them, massaging in wet circles with its tip, as he sloppily layers them in his spit, soothing the flesh before puckering his lips around the sore areas, sucking on them until the marks darken into more vivid reds and purples, sometimes even adding the sharp bite of his teeth to deepen their permanence. He kisses all around your breasts, leaving marks from all over, even on the valley in between – almost as though he wants to make sure you can’t wear anything low cut or this daring without everyone seeing how you are his like he is yours.
You rake your nails down his back when you realize that, scoffing at how he’s still possessive almost three years into your relationship. Jimin looks up at you as he feels your nails dimpling into his skin, a shy but proud lopsided smile on his swollen, fuschia colored lips. He’s so fucking unapologetic. You roll your eyes before you return his grin and it’s only then that he returns his attention to your breasts, finally wrapping his lips around a pebbled peak, gently nipping them before his cheeks hollow out from the force that he’s sucking them, suddenly taken over by desperation. He swathes his tongue over and over the hard nub, before deciding to drag his teeth along the sensitive bud, rolling it between his teeth and then closing down, making you squeal, your head lolling to the side.
His intensity has you losing your mind underneath him. You writhe restlessly beneath Jimin’s body, your limbs spasming while your hips keep surging up, knocking against Jimin’s front frantically, seeking friction in vain. The stupid thick cloth of his dark colored sweatpants don’t let you feel anything but the faint shadow of Jimin’s dick, despite all your frantic bucking.
“Jimin,” you cry out in frustration, “Jimin!” You don’t even know what you want. Do you want him to take his pants off and furiously rut against you through your panties? Or do you want him to stop making you fall apart into pieces with his mouth that doesn’t cease its relentless besiege on your breasts?
Your boyfriend hears you, though, and it has him backing away from your body so he can look down at you to figure out the dimensions of your costume and how the fuck to get that thing off of you so you can be completely nude in his bed. You immediately whimper at the loss of contact. Jimin’s like a furnace and without his body covering you or his hot mouth against your skin, you can now feel the chill in his room which has not been excluded from the icy drafts that the fraternity has blasting through the mansion with the aid of central air conditioning to further the intensity of their haunted house. The entire place is temperature controlled which means the only thing Jimin can do to keep you warm is to wrap his frame around you since both of you are unwilling, at the moment, to put on more layers.
When Jimin finally rips the bright turquoise suit off, you’re left in only your mesh thong – the panties are made up of a diaphanous pink fabric that covers your mound, but lets Jimin see everything underneath as the golden tint to your skin peaks out through the cloth, and is edged with a lime green scalloped ribbon that has a cute little green bow on the center. Jimin can even see how the swath of fabric that’s pressed against your folds is darker from how wet you are, dripping into the material, deepening the color. “I love how you matched your panties to your leg warmers, Y/N. That eager to have sex with me tonight? You already creamed, no oops – screamed, them, and we’ve barely done anything,” Jimin goads, shamelessly staring down at you, his lips curling up devilishly as he can see the visible effect he has on your body.
“I always want to have sex with you,” you shrug blasély, unashamed of your desire and immune to Jimin’s taunts after so many years. He doesn’t embarrass you with how vulgar and descriptive he gets anymore.
But when Jimin starts to pump his fingers through your folds, the incessant speed and fervor has you whimpering to the point that you have to purse your lips in an attempt to conceal them. Jimin’s prodding fingers leave your pussy revealing that it has completely soaked them, making the male hold his hand up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the pads of his fingers as he rejoices in your delicious taste.
“Come here, baby,” Jimin hums, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling warmly as he lulls you into a false sense of confidence. His fingers wrap around your smooth, shaven calves, gently dragging your cotton leg warmers down your legs.
In the blink of an eye, before you can even realize what has fully happened, your boyfriend has tied you up with those dumb multicolored striped pieces of fabric to his headboard. Your hands are bound together at the wrists and then closely tied to one of the headposts, limiting your upper range of motion. The most you can do is buck up, your back arching as you struggle and your legs kick about, but then even that motion becomes limited as Jimin straddles your abdomen. He’s up on his knees, his legs on either side of you and then the male pushes his black sweats and the navy boxer briefs he had worn for the party, so that he wouldn’t flash anyone in those tight costume shorts, halfway down his bulging muscled thighs, moving up your body until the pinkened mushroom head of his dick nudges against your lips, wordlessly telling you to part them.
Feeling defiant, you turn your face to the right and the precum that was beading the head of his cock smears against your cheek at the sudden movement. Your entire face heats up at that, a scarlet flush deepening the color of your cheeks, reddening your throat and décolletage.
“Y/N,” Jimin growls lowly, biting harshly down on the inside of his cheek and that’s all it takes for you to reposition your head, though you glare at him before you slowly spread apart your lips and take in just the bulbous tip into the warm wet cavern of your mouth. You suckle it languidly, focusing on just that part for a moment, twirling your tongue around it and sucking it hard, the point of your tongue poking the slit and eagerly lapping up every bit of precum that leaks out.
But soon you get into it, your neck stretching as you eagerly attempt to take in more of his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slide your lips over it. His tip drags against the roof of your mouth and you splutter in frustration around his cock that you can’t move enough to get even more of his length down your throat. At that Jimin moves even more up your chest, his bony knees almost digging into your armpits since your arms are thrown over your head in their tied position, though he carefully keeps himself perched so none of his weight is pressing down on your delicate rib cage. The male leans one of his arms back to rest his weight on his hand which is fisting his sheets, his fingers digging into his mattress while your actions pick up fervor as you eagerly bob your head forward to enthusiastically deep throat him. His other hand blindly reaches behind him in the direction of your folds, traveling down your continuously clenching tummy and pelvis, the delicate digits traversing the tightened muscles to successfully find the opening to your core, his thumb brutally pressing down on your pulsating clit, striving to hurl you towards release as you do the same to him.
His thumb furiously rubs at that sensitive bud while his other fingers roam your folds, two of them breaching your entrance to plunge into your gushing center, thick digits knuckle deep as he multitasks, pumping two of them in and out of you, curling them up with his fingertips brushing against the furled grooves of your walls, his hard fingernails raking against your insides to making you wail in discontent as his thumb keeps building up that pressured assault against your battered clit.
Meanwhile, you’re gagging on his cock as it sits heavily on your tongue, allowing you to feel the protruding vein along the underside, jutting further into your mouth, brushing against the back of your throat, stabbing your tonsils. You curl your tongue upwards, trying to follow the path of the vein with the tip. The ribbed, warm skin of his shaft against your tongue makes you salivate, drool dripping out your lips while you similarly drench yourself down south as a flood of arousal flows through your core.
But after a moment Jimin snarls, “No,” in frustration, his flushed forehead scrunched up as he seeks something more, something that will perhaps yield more satisfaction and result in greater relief, moving off of your body to agitatedly pull at the fabric of his pants, shredding them off completely.
When the male returns to you, completely nude, all warm peach, soft cream and blush pink shades, he decides to straddle you in the opposite direction, facing away from you. He grips your thighs firmly to maneuver your legs in a bent position, his palms feeling rough as they grasp onto the round globes of your ass to lift your pelvis off the bed, making your back arch as your pussy becomes level with Jimin’s mouth so that he can eat you out. He slides backwards after he properly positions you like you’re his feast so that you can once again take his dick in your mouth, allowing the two of you to properly sixty-nine.
Jimin’s cock twitches in your mouth in excitement and you quickly suckle it to keep it from jerking unexpectedly again, slowly teasing it and building up the pressure. As you keep things slow, Jimin shudders against your mons, his breath seeping through the mesh fabric of your thong, falling over your sensitive skin and making you get goosebumps all over. His lips close over your engorged clit through your panties, sucking so hard he wets the material so heavily it becomes transparent. But after a moment he abandons it, using his nose to nudge the cloth aside so that your folds are finally bare before he eagerly sets in. He sloppily licks fat stripes from your clit to your core, jabbing the tip of his tongue into you, nipping at your petaled folds. In his hunger, he doesn’t realize that he is slowly moving away from your mouth until your lips frantically wrap themselves around his mushroom tip, as you struggle to keep him in your mouth, back to only being able to suck on that upper part of his shaft. He grips your thighs even more soundly, slurping at your juices as your thighs quiver and jiggle on either side of his face. He can’t get enough of how you taste, his grunts mingling with your lustful moans and whimpers that pierce through the air. It doesn’t take him long before he successfully catapults you into a powerful climax, your soft thighs trapping his head as they close around it. Jimin ignores the constraint, sniffing at your delicious scent, lapping at your folds until he has successfully slurped up every bit of your orgasm.
When he releases his grip on your ass, no longer holding you up, your legs unbend, falling as you can no longer hold the position on your own due to the current jellylike state of your limbs. He climbs off your body to sit beside you, his back against the headboard as he finally takes off the bindings around your wrists. The second you’re free, you don’t get a chance to do much before you find yourself hauled up by Jimin and dumped on his lap, your still sensitive cunt brushing against his painfully hard dick as your thighs bracket his, making you twitch in his embrace.
You face him, taking in the messed up hair, voluminous and in disarray, the puffy reddened lips, and the coral colored flush that overtakes his skin from his ears to his cheeks to the entirety of his throat. He looks delirious, so terribly fucked out, and when you eagerly seek to touch his plush lips with your own red bitten ones, his eyes close softly, his black eye lashes fluttering closed as he lets out a blissful sigh. The kiss is earnest and gentle, Jimin’s fingers lightly twitching against your chin as they delicately grip it. “I love you,” you hum into the kiss, when you break apart for the smallest of moments, your lips trembling against his.
His heart skips a beat at your sincere declaration, blood surging to both his cheeks and his cock as he becomes even more maddened at those words, filled with an overflowing amount of love and lust for you as they take over his mind and make him lose control. He leans more deeply into the kiss, intensely passing his lips over yours again and again, too restless and greedy to let you part for a second or breath.
You’re his, he’s yours; he will never let you two be anyone else’s. This is forever for him.
“Ride me, Y/N?” he begs, when he finally is able to let you go, comforted by how your arms are wound tightly around his frame. His gray hair is darkened at the roots to a sooty charcoal color from how much he’s sweating even in this freezing room and as you brush it back, away from how they’ve fallen into his eye line, he murmurs, “At least in the beginning. Please, baby.”
You press your hands against his chest, your palms brushing against the rock hard points of his nipples as you lift your ass off his lap. You ask Jimin to help line your folds up with his cock because you’re too busy with your sudden obsession with the furled buds of his dark mauvy brown nipples. You find yourself too busy flicking them and rolling them between your forefinger and thumb, to be bothered to make sure that his cock would enter your opening. Honestly, if Jimin left you to your own devices, distracted as you are by the pretty shiny jewelry adorning his pecs – you would probably just absentmindedly sit down on him, rubbing your pussy against his length, too lazy to make sure he was actually penetrating you with his fat cock, fine with just getting off by humping each other.
You continue to swirl your tongue around the beaded nubs. Jimin hisses and groans when you nudge the metal ends of his piercings with the pointed tip of your tongue. The hardness of the platinum bars brushing against your taste buds seem so at odds with the silkiness of Jimin’s skin and you find yourself moaning as you lick up his chest, your tongue capturing the saltiness of his sweat on it.
Jimin sighs as he continues to let you dart little kitten licks against the hard points of his nipples. It always surprises him just how similar he and you are. You say it’s because he’s a Libra and you’re an Aquarius and that makes you both air signs, but honestly – he doesn’t know. What he does think is that he’s glad you two still get along, even though not only do you both have the same personalities down to a tee, the two of you often blow your lids at the most random things – fortunately, it’s usually not over the same things. But you both are also infatuated with the exact same features on each other, often wanting to perform the exact same sexual act on each other, even if you guys sometimes have to determine an order when it’s not possible to do it simultaneously.
He can’t blame you for wanting to suck his nipples right now when he spent over an hour with his face pressed to your breasts earlier in the afternoon, at one point even motorboating you until you shoved him away rolling your eyes, pretending it wasn’t enjoyable for you at all. This means that he'll happily let you hum against his sweat slickened skin in pleasure as you lick and nibble while he grabs ahold of your shapely hips and makes you slide up and down against his length. When you finally stop your adoration of Jimin’s chest, you sheepishly take back control and increase your speed, enthusiastically bouncing up and down on his dick, using his shoulders to clutch onto.
As the pace picks up momentum, you get sloppier, resulting in his cock dragging against your folds roughly. It makes you mewl mindlessly and Jimin moves his hands away from your hips now that you’ve taken back the reins. Instead, his hands go upwards, fingers knotting themselves into your hair as his palms cradle the back of your head, he gently nudges your head forward with his hands, guiding you towards his lips before you meet them in a desperate kiss that has you both sighing intermittently against each other’s mouth.
It’s taking you more and more effort to lift yourself off his cock and fall down onto it again as your thighs tighten with another approaching orgasm. When Jimin finally notices your struggles, he quickly rolls the two of you around so that he’s on top of you and you’re lying on your back with your legs wrapped high around his waist as he energetically jackhammers into you with tight, lethal snaps of his hips, keeping up a furious pace. His fat, monstrous length pounds into you again and again as you mindlessly rake your nails down his back, struggling to find purchase. He rams his cock into your hole as your walls quiver and tighten around him, reluctant to let him go.
Too enraptured by your beauty as he is full of both love and lust, it’s not enough for Jimin to just stare down at you, maintaining eye contact as he snaps his hips, pistoning into you. No, Jimin has to remain busy, giving you as much pleasure as possible, and so his head ducks low, wetly and messily kissing and biting his way from your throat to the expanse of your chest, littering your smooth skin with even more torrid love bites and hickeys. It’s fortunate that it is sweater weather because there is no way you can wear a bikini top without showing everyone the, at least, twenty impassioned marks that stain your skin as proof of Jimin’s adoration and devotion. His hand also sneaks its way down to increase the intensity, fiercely rubbing your clit to stimulate you. This time when you come, you squirt, drenching Jimin’s bed sheets. And all it takes is you gushing around him from your orgasm for your boyfriend to come powerfully inside you, collapsing onto your frame.
For a long moment, you let Jimin crush your body under his weight, welcoming the closeness and how his skin sticks and clings to yours with how sweaty you both have become. You tighten your legs even further around his hips, keeping his warm cock buried within you for as long as you can, but when it starts to erratically twitch from the overstimulation, you know it’s time for Jimin’s exhausted cock to pull out.
“Shower with me?” Jimin whispers against the shell of your ear, making you shiver. All of your senses are still overwhelmingly heightened after that second orgasm, “We can use up all of the hot water since they turned on the fucking A/C even though it’s almost winter.”
You let Jimin pull you along to the ensuite bathroom, both of you thanking God that he’s an officer who gets several privileges. Jimin lets you remain a little longer in the shower than himself, escaping early since you two couldn’t agree on the temperature. You had wanted it warmer than he did and he could only stand it for so long. You use the time to scrub every bit of Halloween makeup off your skin. As the water runs a bluish gray, you wonder how the fuck Jimin had sex with you when you looked properly fucked out and a right mess with your makeup running all over your face. Surely you could not have looked very pretty. You bite your lip, making yourself blush, but Jimin certainly must’ve thought you did with the way he kept staring at you the entire time. The heat of a thousand suns were behind his eyes as his eyes swept over your body and locked with yours.
When you exit the bathroom, in an oversized fuzzy Beta Tau crewneck that belongs to your boyfriend and one of his thicker pairs of sweats, your hair is blown dry since you didn’t want to drip water onto Jimin’s bed, wetting the sheets, when it was already so cold. Looking over the room, you find that Jimin has changed his bedding so it no longer has the evidence of his cum and your squirting splattering it.
Jimin’s already on top of the new sheets with, what do you know, Toy Story 3 all queued up on Disney+, though you know he takes any and all opportunity to rewatch The Nightmare Before Christmas that he can. The male hurriedly opens his arms out wide for you when he notices that you’re back in the room and you launch yourself into his embrace. Once you’re comfortable with your back pressed against his chest, he covers the two of you with his thick, warm blankets.
“Jimin?” you ask, twirling a flat lock of hair. Unless you style it, your freshly washed hair never has any volume.
“Yes, baby?” he answers dutifully, kissing your forehead. He’s warm and cozy, smelling like orange blossoms and citrus trees, both floral and woody and you love it, inhaling deeply.
“Can you come over on Sunday? I want to eat dinner together with you,” you admit, pulling the sleeves of his crewneck until your fingers are no longer visible and you have sweaterpaws.
“Depends on what you make,” he teases, nudging his nose against yours.
But you don’t realize, answering him seriously with thoughtful consideration to your dinner menu, “I was thinking I could make kimchi jjigae and maybe also dakgalbi?”
“Y/N, I was gonna be there with you regardless,” Jimin murmurs, raking his hand through his hair, pushing back the long straight strands of gunmetal colored hair from falling over his eyes and impeding his vision, “I’ll start moving in from tomorrow but it might be a little hard since I have rehearsal and then the actual showcase in the evening. But I figured I could get a huge chunk done on Sunday. Of course, I’ll eat dinner with my baby.”
“Yes, baby?” Jimin giggles before grinning at how you keep hesitantly repeating his name first before just saying whatever you wanted to tell him.
“I love you very much,” you admit, shyly, worrying your teeth over your lips that are covered with Jimin’s cherry chapstick you found on his sink’s counter. It’s not gross to share lip balm when you two are always kissing anyway. At least this way, neither of your lips are ever chapped and flaking.
“I know, baby. I love you, too. I’m sorry about snapping at you on Tuesday when you brought me food,” he confesses, his hands sliding up and down your arms, attempting to increase the friction to warm you up as you curl into his form.
“Oh. No, baby. That’s okay. It’s already forgotten, don't worry about that.”
“Yeah?” Jimin asks, hugging you tightly from the back, burrowing his nose into your hair. It smells like his Aromatica shampoo and you.
“Of course. You were just under a lot of pressure from midterms, baby. Don’t fret.”
“Yeah?” Jimin repeats, quirking his eyebrows playfully, “So you know that I don’t hold anything that happened today against you, right? Let’s just move forward, baby.”
“Oh, I see,” you opine, “This was a trap.”
“Don’t look at it that way,” suggests Jimin, cackling his head off, his cheeks stretched high and his eyes closing in the shape of half moons that are edged with his long dark lashes, “It’s a testament of my love for you.”
“What a forgiving and reasonable boyfriend I have,” you giggle, playing along, knocking your shoulder back into his chest, “He’s probably the best boyfriend to ever exist.”
“He is,” Jimin agrees.
“And I love him so much,” you declare, punctuating your statement with a happy kiss.
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License
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ain’t real cherry | p.jm. | one-shot (m)
candy by doja cat
come my way by plvtinum
pairing: jimin x reader (ft. taehyung)
rating: m (18+)
genre: smut | humor | fluff | touches of angst if you really squint | college!au | roommate!au
summary: Not to be too sickeningly romantic, but his wank bank needed a desperate overhaul if he was ever going to stop being pathetic. He was done envisioning his roommate in positions he would never actually get to see her in.
And maybe, just maybe, this exercise would get him back in the game and he would actually be able to fuck people without your face in his head to push him over the edge, every single time.
warnings: swearing + unresolved (?) sexual tension + nude photos + vivid descriptions of curvaceous female bodies + careless objectification of said bodies by horny college students + mentions of masturbation + heavy making out + sexual situations (oral (m+f), penetrative sex, dirty talk, softdom!jimin, switch!reader, choking, manhandling, rough sex, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, overstimulation, marking) + unrequited (?) lustful (?) pining  + fuckboy tae with a dick for brain + unintended allusions to Ryan Reynolds’ dick + mentions of blue beanbags + mentions of erect dingalings + explicit conversations featuring dingalings + i realize these are getting progressively more ridiculous so ima stop
word count: 24.2 k
note: IT’S FINALLY HERE! so this was the result of me obsessively listening to doja cat’s candy and daydreaming about jimin. i wanted to make a pwp-ish drabble out of this concept, but yet again, i kept adding backstory and it was nearing 5k words by the time things actually started to get heated up for real, so i decided to actually add more depth and plot to it, and — here we are, at more than three times the initially planned wordcount. i’ve been slaving since the beginning of june. why am i like this??? 😩😭
it’s really more than 15k words of pure filth, proceed with caution!
a few honorable mentions in the form of @getmemyfries who constantly helped me push through and finish this up. ily bby. 🥺💕 @ressjeon @sugasbabiie & @jamaisjoons for helping me out in the BS server when i was stuck! i appreciate y’all loadsss! 🥰❤
annnywayyy, hope y’all like this one, while i go work on the jk birthday fic before going back to the youth series. much love~ 🥺💜
↦ CROSS-POSTED ON AO3
— feedback is always appreciated!
Late at night, do the things to him, mean that guy who
Need someone who's sweet enough, who'll shoot to make that high note~
Park Jimin was having a surprisingly nice Wednesday. And you were the reason why.
The fact was surprising, because Wednesdays were one of the three days that housed the most despicable compulsory classes he'd ever sat in his life, Cognitive Psychology 101. He honestly still didn't get why he, a finance major, was forced through this torture – what was up with this university and its combinations, he didn't know. But since he had to endure it, he braved the class with a grimace and slumping on the very last row of seats in the lecture hall with Taehyung.
“You look happy today,” the guy in question mumbled around the lollipop in his mouth.
Jimin gave him a small grin, shrugging. “I just have these positive vibes going around my head this morning.”
Your words from this morning, aka, said positive vibes, still echoed in his head.
There’s this… guy I’ve kinda been thinking about. I’m, like, ready to put out if he’d take it, but I feel like I might be out of his league…
Jimin had wanted to hold you by your shoulders and tell you that no guy in the world—least of all on this campus—could ever be out of your league when you were Aphrodite, Persephone and Hera all rolled into one sexy as fuck human body. But he had refrained, only scoffing in disbelief and asking you to shoot your shot like the confident goddess you were—okay, he might not have refrained that well—while secretly hoping you’d jump him at the end of his encouraging speech.
And even though that didn’t happen, Jimin still wasn’t completely hopeless.
“Vibe—what now? Positive? Head?” Taehyung looked at him in confusion, basic human language seemingly too complicated for him due to all the sex related jargon that filled his brain at all times. He suddenly leered, proving Jimin right. “Oh, wait! Is that a euphemism for morning head?”
Jimin choked on his next inhale, violently coughing as he shook his head, partially to negate what Taehyung said but partially to get rid of the sudden mental image of you on your knees with your lips wrapped around his—
Sweet mother of Jesus!
Taehyung simply shrugged at Jimin’s tiny meltdown and went back to his phone. He was simple like that, and Jimin kinda preferred it that way. Mostly.
Taehyung, much like Jimin, wasn't too fond of these classes. He had seemed like a chill person to Jimin when the dark haired guy first sat next to him, easy to get along with and talk to in order to pass time in class. But as three weeks had gone by and Jimin had had occasional hangouts with the guy outside of class, he had realised that Taehyung wasn't much fond of anything to do with education, in general. He was a performing arts student majoring in music and unnecessarily dipping his head in a couple of culture related subjects, when all he seemed to care about was working his vocal chords, grades be damned.
That, along with the fact that Taehyung was a notorious fuckboy. If he wasn't lewdly ogling someone in class, he was sexting someone. Or looking at nudes. Or sifting through his contact list full of girls to look for someone to spend the night with.
Multiple times through the span of the weeks they’d sat together, he had encouraged Jimin to join in with him in one of the aforementioned activities to pass time in class. But Jimin had refused the offer. And not because he was a saint himself, not in the least. Jimin had had a filling and frivolous sexual life through high school and upped his game with trying new things through his freshman year in college — trying out every sex position possible, getting in bed with multiple partners at the same time, hooking up in the oddest of places, having sex with two brothers one after another, to name a couple stunts.
But ever since his second year in college started and his previous roommate graduated and moved out to make space for you, things had started to change for Jimin.
You had entered his life as a temporary roommate, claiming plans of only lodging with him for a few weeks until you found yourself a sorority that would take you in. But a few weeks had changed into a few months, and then a few semesters — and now you’d been living with him for over a year, with your sorority plans tossed in a dumpster when you failed an exam and lost the eligibility.
Somewhere in between, Jimin had developed the most gigantic crush of his life on you.
And, yes, it was the biggest cliche trope in the world to crush on your roommate, but he couldn’t help it, okay? You were sexy, gorgeous, witty, really caring when you needed to be, sexy, at the top of each one of your classes, made the best fried rice he had ever tasted and could hold your liquor almost better than Jimin could. Did he mention you were also impossibly sexy? Because you really really were. He’d never been one to objectify women, but damn did he want you to suffocate him with those thighs of yours. So with all of that, how could he not be completely infatuated with you?
Hence, he really was. And slowly but surely, his sleeping around had stopped as a result of said infatuation. He had found himself quickly turning into a pervert and an asshole of a huge degree when he noticed he had started to prefer fucking girls from behind so that he didn’t see their faces, and, well…could imagine yours in its place. He’d forgone getting it on with guys as a whole, because he couldn’t pretend with them. So yeah, he had decided he was better off jerking off in the confines of his room with your thoughts in his head. Better just a pervert than a perv and an asshole, right?
You, though, were none the wiser about his developed feelings and still went around hooking up with and dating guys. Jimin didn’t really mind – he wasn’t in love with you by any means – until you didn’t bring back guys to your apartment, which you thankfully never did. It definitely hurt a bit, yeah, but it was his own fault for not telling you how he felt. Maybe you’d go easier on him and not loudly reiterate details of your sexual encounters and bad first dates to him over your shared meals. Maybe you’d confess to reciprocated attraction and actually fuck him. But, at the same time, maybe you would find it to be a breach of your trust on him and decide to move out and cut all ties with him forever. And therein was the reason why he hadn’t told you.
Something had been different as of late, though.
You hadn’t slept with a single guy since the start of this term, and the last date you’d been on had been before the summers. At least from what you told him. But then, why would you lie when your usual breakfast conversation with Jimin consisted of descriptions of what some random one night stand from months ago had done with his tongue and how you hadn’t yet found someone who came close to replicating that?
Jimin had desperately wanted to volunteer himself, on an embarrassingly large number of occasions, but he had held back. At the end of the day, you were also one of the closest friends he had and he really didn’t wanna lose you because of sex.
Now, though, he was getting ideas.
Was there a reason why you hadn’t been on a date in months and had refrained from sleeping around?
That, when put together with your conversation from this morning, was making Jimin think things.
Now, of course, you could be talking about literally anybody in the world because you’d given him no specifics. Hell, you could be talking about Ryan Reynolds, and he wouldn’t know! You hadn’t even specified if you even knew this guy personally, least of all if you were friends, or something.
But Jimin was still brimming with hope, because there was still a chance you could have been talking about him.
Jimin sighed to himself at the wishful thought.
The professor had started to drone about something to do with language ability and when the word “psycholinguistics” came up, Jimin decided it was time to tap out.
Taehyung sat manspreading next to him, intently focussed on his phone, not even trying to be subtle about not focussing on the class as he leant over the device. Jimin started a game of PAC-MAN on his laptop with an admirable straight face. His eyes met the professor’s by accident, though, but instead of freezing up and giving himself away, he gave the man a short nod with furrowed brows. His professor looked away after a satisfactory hum, and Jimin immediately moved to position his laptop between himself and the man’s line of sight properly, this time.
His own acting skills sometimes astounded him to the point where he thought of switching courses to Taehyung's bachelor’s.
He snorted at his thought, and caught said man's attention.
"What's so funny?" Taehyung asked with an amused grin, eyes still trained on his phone screen.
Jimin had just opened his mouth to respond when he saw Taehyung's grin change flavors. It became lecherous, all of a sudden, and when he licked his lips, Jimin averted his gaze with a grimace, mildly disturbed.
Was Taehyung sexting someone, right now? Jimin hoped the guy wouldn’t pop a boner in the middle of the class for the sake of his own eyes. Shuddering in revulsion at the thought, Jimin looked back at his computer.
“Gosh, those hips,” Taehyung mumbled under his breath, and Jimin froze.
So he was looking at nudes, then.
Rolling his eyes, Jimin had just started a new game when Taehyung tugged at his sleeve. “Look at this, Park, ugh, she’s so hot,” he mumbled, producing his phone before Jimin.
Jimin screwed his eyes shut, bringing his hand up to shield them, just to be safer. “Kim! Don’t show it to me! Someone sent it to you in confidence, don’t go around asking others to look!” he scolded Taehyung in a harsh whisper.
Taehyung clicked his tongue, moaning as if he was in actual pain. “Gosh, Jimin, I’d print these out and paste them on the walls of my bedroom if I could!”
Even though Jimin had detached himself from Taehyung’s grasp, his curiosity had peaked. But he still stared into his computer with a straight face, until the next set of words left Taehyung’s mouth.
“I’m seriously considering forwarding this to every single group chat I’m a part of so that people can tell me I’m not insane for wanting to lick my phone’s screen, man,” Taehyung nearly whined.
“Kim!” Jimin’s hand flew to grab Taehyung’s phone in alarm, and he snatched it away before the other guy could blink. “What the hell is going on with you today? Fucking around is one thing but compromising a girl’s trust and privacy is something else! Stop talking about spreading the pictures around!”
After his little tirade was done with, Taehyung rightfully looked somewhat chastised. But then he pushed his lower lip out in a pout. “It’s not even pictures, it’s just a picture. Only one. And that has me going insane.” He suddenly sucked in a sharp breath, and Jimin leant away, warily. “Imagine what it would be like to dig my hands into those shapely hips, that plump as fuck ass, God's above—oh! I’ll probably bite into the meat of her—”
“Yeah, okay, that’s enough erotica from you!” Jimin interrupted him, entire face scrunched up in a scowl as he rested Taehyung’s phone on the other side of his own laptop. He still didn't trust the guy to not shred someone’s privacy to pieces in his haze of lust. “Don't drool so hard, dude, come on. It’s 2021, she probably photoshopped some bits.”
Taehyung shook his head, eyes looking a bit blown out. “Trust me on this, Park, I can tell the difference between fake and real. And those stretch marks wrapping up delicately like a fucking vine around her hips? They’re as real as they come.”
Jimin swallowed, fighting against the visual of your thighs and the threading stripes of olive that ran along the sides of your knees. “I still think you’re overreacting a bit.”
Taehyung looked offended at that. “Well, you’re saying that because you haven’t seen it! Just — just take a goddamned look, Park, it’s right there and the screen isn’t even locked.”
Jimin inhaled through his mouth. “No. It’s wrong, and—”
“Jesus Christ, her face isn’t even in it!”
That gave Jimin a pause. His eyes darted to the device, and just as he’d registered the silhouette of a curvy, olive torso, he snapped his head back. “It's still immoral!”
“For the love of—fine, gimme my phone, I’ll text her and ask if it’s okay for you to see it, alright?” Taehyung hissed in his face, brows lowered in irritation. “Stop acting like a fucking priest, and look at the damn photo, Park!”
And before Jimin could react, Taehyung’s long-ass arms with his long-ass fingers had ripped the device off Jimin’s desk and shoved it in his face.
Jimin sucked in a breath. He had been having a surprisingly nice Wednesday, and his pessimistic ass was basically waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop. Maybe this would be it, this immoral leering—
“Holy fuck, those hips!” he exclaimed, wide eyes drinking up the female torso on the screen.
It was a picture taken in a mirror, with the girl standing facing to the side. It began right at the fullness of her breasts, capturing the taut peaks of her dark nipples and golden stretch lines near the lower curves of her full breasts. Her stomach was tight but had a soft curve below her navel, which then tapered into a shaved triangle of soft skin that disappeared into the juncture of her meaty thighs that she’d strategically crossed to hide her pussy from sight. But the main attention grabbing attraction were the wide, sloping, round hips that her trim waist tapered into. She had an hourglass figure, with the juiciest curve connecting her waist to her legs.
Jimin breathed out. It was a really artfully clicked picture, alluring to the point where Jimin felt his mouth water just staring at it.
“Do you get it now?” Taehyung sounded to be in pain, and Jimin could understand.
Yep, he got it now.
“It’s the first picture she’s sent that’s why she’s hidden the cooch, but honestly? I don’t even miss it right now,” Taehyung mumbled, now looking at the picture himself.
Jimin secretly agreed, not even needing to look at the picture to confirm anymore, now that he had it seared in his brain.
Out of nowhere, an image of you lounging on the sofa in an oversized shirt and little else as you watched the TV entered his thoughts.
He groaned at the mental image of your thighs and groaned further when his brain automatically pictured them wrapped around his waist as he drove into—
Nobody’s driving nothing nowhere.
His eyes widened in panic when he felt his jeans tightening.
No. Nope. Think ugly thoughts! Think psychology – think fucking psycholinguistics! Think gross men! Taehyung! The psych professor! Taehyung's tongue! Taehyung's tongue on the psych professor's face!
Sufficiently calmed down, Jimin breathed easier when he felt himself wilt.
He bit down on his bottom lip, exhaling harshly in frustration. As if lusting on one temptress wasn't too fucking much to handle for his brain, now he had two.
And to think his Wednesday had been going good!
Jimin delayed getting back to his flat as much as he could, instead choosing to spend long hours in the library with his nose buried in a Napoleon Hill he'd been planning to read for a long time.
But his mind, the betraying fucker, completely refused to decipher the literature before him. It, instead, insistently played loops of imaginary scenarios featuring a delicious pair of curvaceous hips that made Jimin’s head hurt and pants tighten. And if he somehow battled his way out of those, it immediately switched to the image of your thighs, and Jimin honestly couldn’t decide what was worse.
He was embarrassed by it all, hating how he seemed to be unable to control all the horny thoughts in his mind like a thirteen year old who’d seen porn for the first time. He’d had his share of hot women—and men—in his bed, he should have been good at controlling himself from physically reacting to the thoughts of a sexy body. And he really had been, in the past. He couldn’t understand what the catch was, this time.
Maybe your words from this morning had caused more short circuits in his head than he had knowledge of.
In any case, he desperately didn't wanna face you when he was having such a hard time controlling himself. He had even considered going home with one of the girls on Taehyung’s list of potential booty calls to take the edge off. But the memories of the last few one night stands he’d had left him scarred. He did not wanna fuck another girl from behind and climax to the image of your face painted behind his eyelids.
He left the library at eight when it closed, avoiding the librarian’s shocked but curious gaze when she had to escort him out. He understood her completely, though. This was the first ever time he’d actually sat in this particular building on the campus in his more than two years of college, let alone stay till closing like a nerdy bookworm.
He trudged his way to the train station on heavy legs as he left the campus, earphones plugged in and some rap playlist playing some Eminem song to drown out the erotic images in his head.
The ride to his apartment was a really short one, and within fifteen minutes of leaving the library, he was climbing up the stairs to his first floor flat.
He switched off the distractingly good music as he unlocked the door. He was pleasantly surprised to find out his distraction had worked, when the sight of your side profile as you sat huddled up on the couch in a t-shirt and shorts with your hair in a bun atop your head didn’t cause any stirrings in his pants.
“Hey!” he greeted you, shutting and locking the door behind him as he moved to hang up his keys on his designated hook next to the door.
“You were out till late,” you mumbled, sulky face giving him a once over before you went back to stare at the TV.
Jimin’s heart skipped a beat. You could not be wearing this expression because he was late, could you?
He dared not hope.
Toeing off his shoes, he gave a shrug. “The weather was nice, out there. Kinda stayed and lounged around the gardens on campus,” he lied, knowing full well that you’d bombard him with a million questions if he told you he had uncharacteristically stayed at the library. “Lost track of time.”
You simply hummed in response, looking almost petulant as you crossed your arms against your chest with a pout. "I got some fried chicken on my way back, it's in the fridge," you spoke in pout. "Have some if you want."
"I will, in a while, yeah. Thanks." Jimin bit his lip to hold back an amused smile, endeared by your cuteness and welcoming the fucking change in his channel of thoughts. “What’s up with you, though, grumpy? You okay?” he asked you, walking up to his room to toss his belongings in.
“I’m not grumpy,” you called out very grumpily, and this time Jimin let a hearty laugh escape him. “Don’t lau~gh!” you whined.
Jimin quickly switched out his jeans for a pair of sweatpants, not bothering to shut his door when he knew you were seated facing the opposite side. He wouldn’t even mind if you did look, he was wearing his boxers, it won’t be that bad.
Was he…perhaps…hoping you would look?
Jimin cleared his throat to derail that train of thoughts before it could end up being a devastating trainwreck.
"Come on, what is it?" he asked again, walking towards the fridge to extract a bottle of water. "You get graded today, or something?"
You scoffed at that. "I'm above letting my grades dictate my mood, Park, you know that! Not that I have room to complain when I've never gotten anything less than perfect," you smugly said, shooting him a smirk over your shoulder.
He had to work very hard to not choke on the next sip of water he took. He quickly capped the bottle and put it back to avoid any further incidents. Why did you have to look so goddamn hot doing literally absolutely everything?
Jimin walked up to crash on the couch next to you, hooking a knee over the armrest and letting the other leg spread out towards the floor. One of his arms dangled off the back of the couch while he ran the other hand through his hair with a roll of his eyes. He purposely faced away from you.
"Sure, never – except that one time. Basically the only time it really mattered," Jimin teased, bringing up last year's fall semester.
"What?" You looked confused with a frown on your face.
Jimin chuckled. "Yeah, sure. As if you would ever forget failing that test. As if I didn't hear you lament about getting rejected from that one sorority for literal weeks."
"Oh!" you sounded genuinely surprised this time, and he chanced a curious glance.
Only to find you looking at the TV with a frown. Were you really that preoccupied? You couldn't possibly have actually forgotten, it was one of the biggest failures of your life. Or so you had said, back then.
"Yeah, but it's kinda good I got…y'know, rejected," you continued, lips morphing into a pout again and Jimin looked away. "I'm not even friends with Kira anymore, and she was why I wanted to join that srat in the first place.”
Jimin felt bummed. He was almost hoping you’d say it was good you got rejected because you found him. Like, not like that, but as friends. Because you guys were pretty good friends, and putting the sexual attraction aside—though it really was damn near impossible for him to even envision not being attracted to you—he was grateful you got rejected from that sorority because he cherished your company as a friend a lot.
You were a good listener, a fun drink buddy and, most importantly, you made some mean fried rice. It was the best he ever had, okay? It reminded him of his mother's cooking! He wasn't made of stone to not grow soft at that!
“Anyways! Grades are not the reason,” you said with an even more defined pout on your face.
Jimin gave a small hum, smiling fondly. “The reason for? Your grumpiness? So, you admit you’re being grumpy!”
You stuck your tongue out at him in response, and Jimin froze, fondness slipping from his mind as lust gripped at him.
The sight of your tiny, pink, glossy tongue nearly made his vision go blurry with the blood rush that took place in him. His sweatpants could not have been doing a good job of hiding his erection, but he could not be bothered to think past the images flooding him.
A kaleidoscope of carnality burst open in his head, every single one of the pieces featuring your tongue smoothing over a different part of his body – flicking over his nipple, licking down his neck, diving between his abs, dipping into his navel… tangling up with his own… wrapping around the tip of his—
He blinked, snapping his involuntarily gaping mouth shut with a clack. He could only imagine how starved his eyes must have looked, going by the desperate longing that seared through him. He was very nearly salivating over you, sitting one foot away from you! And he was painfully hard.
He had also, very inconveniently, not heard a word of what you just said.
Covertly lowering his leg from the handrest to loosen up some of the fabric of his sweatpants over his crotch, Jimin shook his head to physically dissipate the daze fuzzing up his head.
Fucking hell, he was way too much sexually pent up!
“Sorry, sorry, I zoned out,” he mumbled in apology, pulling his gaze off your frowning face to look at the TV. You were watching some American sitcom he knew nothing about. He focussed on a bald, skinny guy that was poking his nose and willed his arousal to calm down. “You were saying?”
“Can you please stop daydreaming when I’m in a crisis?” you grumbled.
Jimin nearly scoffed. If only it were that easy to control his head. He was nearly in a crisis, too, at this point. His eyebrows suddenly rose when it registered. “Wait, crisis? What happened?”
“Um… you remember the guy I told you about? This morning?” you sounded nervous, and his heartbeat picked up.
Oh, he remembered, alright.
Jimin’s throat bobbed with a dry click.
“Uh huh?” he managed to mumble, bracing himself.
"I think he's got a nice dick."
Jimin wasn't even drinking water, he choked on fucking air.
Your concerned voice said something, but Jimin couldn't hear you over his hacking coughs and the pulse pounding loudly in his ears.
What the fuck did you just say?
He dry-heaved, wiping at his watering eyes when he could finally breathe easily. "I'm sorry… I was… I just…" he panted between long, drawn out breaths.
You looked concerned and confused. "Are you okay? You're being weird. Did something happen at college?"
Jimin vehemently shook his head. "I had psych today, my mind’s just in a bad space."
You pursed your lips, seemingly not believing him, but thankfully let it go.
So you thought your mystery guy had a nice dick.
Jimin's spirits fizzled away like froth. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him, because you didn't know what his dick looked like.
Well, not unless you'd been a pervert and peeked. Which he really didn't believe you had done or would ever do.
But then again, you said you "thought" the guy's dick was nice. Implying, you could very well be using your imagination and fantasizing.
You could still, hypothetically, be talking about Ryan Reynolds.
He needed more information.
He cleared his throat, this time bracing himself for any more bombshells you could possibly drop on him. He breathed through his nose and vowed to not gasp no matter what came out of your mouth in response to his question.
"So… his dick, huh?" he asked, trying to be as casual as he could be, putting a curved index finger in front of his lips as he stared at the TV. He could’ve been asking about the weather, given the casual aura he eluded. "Did you, uh, see it?"
He sensed you shrug in his periphery. "Not really. Just the outline. The bulge, if you may. And it looked so good, Jimin," you nearly moaned and he nearly became hard again.
You had seen a bulge.
It could very well have been his bulge.
In fact, there was a very, very high possibility that it was his bulge, given how careless he'd recently been about stripping down to his boxers where you could see him. Like, subtly, of course, but still. He left his room's door open when he changed, these days. You were in your room, and if not, sat with your back to his room and your eyes glued to the TV screen, the way you had been this evening. But you could very easily look if you tried.
You could really have seen his bulge.
And thought that it looked nice.
So much so, that you considered yourself to be in a crisis right now, just thinking about it.
His breath hitched. Was he dreaming?
A voice from the back of his mind suddenly slid to the forefront:
You could also, just as plausibly, be talking about Ryan Reynolds' dick!
Jimin swore to himself under his breath.
You really could still be talking about literally anybody because guys tended to be casual about their semis. Pair that up with tightly fitted jeans or thin clothed sweatpants, and the result would be what you saw: a dick's outline. Celebrities were sometimes photographed that way, too.
"Why're you distressed, hun?" he quizzed further, hoping you wouldn't catch the lower octave his disappointed voice had taken.
“I just…I wanna suck it. His cock."
"What the—" Jimin broke off, remembering his plans of breathing through the nose and not gasping.
"What?" you irritably threw a scowl his way. "Don't be a prude, you've heard worse from me."
Jimin nodded with a grimace. He indeed, very painfully, had. "I, uh…" He paused to clear his throat. "Why's — why's that a crisis?"
You looked at him as if he was stupid. Which he really, really was, but probably not for the reasons you thought. "Jimin! How am I supposed to ask a guy to suck his dick when I haven't even seen his dick? That'd be so slutty!"
Jimin licked his lips, his eyes zeroing in on your plump ones. Yep, he could totally picture it and it looked more than slutty — it looked obscene and depraved and filthy and sexy as fuck.
He harshly exhaled through his mouth. Why was he being tested like this? What had he ever done to deserve this torture? Did some previous jaded lover of his do some black magic on him? Or worse yet, did some previous jaded lover of his put you up to this task of teasing and torturing him to the brink of insanity?
Jimin pulled his lower lip into his mouth. "Don't judge." He let go of his lip with a pop, his voice coming out borderline raspy. His eyes wandered away from you when he figured he would probably command you to look at him with his next words. "Some guys like it slutty. Maybe your – maybe yours would be into it."
God knew Jimin was. So, so super into it.
You hummed, thoughtfully. "You don't think it'd turn him off?"
"Not in the least," Jimin murmured, gaze snapped back to yours, lips parting as he gulped a heavy breath in. You were looking away in thought. "I think it'd drive him insane."
"So, what? I just – tell him?"
"Depends," Jimin throatily responded, a complete goner now with his semi-erect cock marking a wet spot against his sweatpants, and visions of your thighs wrapped around his waist running free in his head, now that he didn't try to rein them in, anymore. "If he's someone that likes to be told, you do that. But if he's someone who likes to tell," Jimin paused, waiting for you to connect your clueless eyes with his, "you ask him."
Your lips parted and eyes widened. "You – you mean, like, seek permission? To suck his cock? What kind of a guy would ever say no to that?"
A cocky smirk ticked up Jimin's cheek. "The kind that doesn't feel you deserve it."
He saw it – the momentary glaze that cast over your eyes – it wasn't a trick of the light from the TV, your pupils had actually, really expanded.
But then you blinked and your nose wrinkled up. "You're into some kinky dom shit, aren't you, Park?"
And just like that, the trance broke and Jimin floated back to earth. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, well aware of the pink climbing up his cheeks.
He forced a roll of his eyes. "Just ask him, you little shit," he muttered, crossly. "It's just as you said, no guy would reject a proffered blowjob."
He almost hoped you would ask him.
He kept observing you from the corner of his eye as you kept worrying your bottom lip, gaze hung on some invisible point in space. And then you started to nod, looking resolute as you raised your head to meet his eyes.
His heart stopped when you opened your mouth to speak.
“Okay. Uh, yeah, I’ll ask him. Yep, that’s—that’s a great idea. Thanks, Jimin,” you mumbled in a rush, looking somewhat out of it, probably because you were picturing asking the guy.
And just like that, Jimin sank into himself.
He gave you a brittle smile as you nodded at him. “No problem. Always happy to help,” he said, the words acerbic in his mouth.
You proceeded to get up from the couch. “Alright then, I’m off to sleep. Got a seven am class tomorrow,” you told him, but his helpless eyes were stuck to the strip of your golden skin visible above your shorts as your shirt rose – a hint of your gorgeous butterfly tattoo peeked out, taunting him.
He wanted to trace its royal blue wings with his tongue. Jimin licked his lips, gaze gliding past your plump ass to land on your thighs. He drank them up while you stretched, trying hard and failing at his attempts to not imagine his teeth digging into the softness of your skin as you writhed underneath him.
“Good night, Chim.”
At his nickname, Jimin swapped his eyes up to meet yours. You were already looking at him, but he found no annoyance or even suspicion in them. Had you not noticed him eye-fucking you? His brows furrowed a bit.
“Yeah, good night,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes to the view of your jiggling butt as you walked away.
Jimin released a deep sigh.
Even after a whole year of him making eyes at you, you were interested in sucking other dicks. Why was he even bothering anymore?
He was gonna forget all about your thighs and your ass when he looked at the most deliciously curvaceous pair of hips he’d ever seen, again, tomorrow, he promised himself. He would ogle them lewdly, drink his fill. He would replace every lustful desire he ever had for you by directing it towards someone else. He would.
But tonight, he would have to be the weaker man one last time and soothe his day-long blue balls by the aid of his fantasies of your naked body in his arms.
God, he was pathetic.
Taehyung's sexting with the Curvaceous Goddess from yesterday morning had progressed drastically. The guy could barely speak over the drool in his mouth.
"She's sent me multiple shots of those hips, man," Taehyung mumbled with a barely held back moan as Jimin made his way out of the psych class with him. "And a couple of her boobs. Gotta admit, though, I didn't pay that much attention to them. But her nipples look really biteable. Do you wanna see?”
Jimin very reluctantly shook his head. He was barely able to handle himself with the one picture he’d seen. Anymore, and he’d been walking around the college building with an erection.
Taehyung shrugged. “Your call. Hey, maybe I should ask her for some close-ups of those areolas! I gotta…" trailing off in a mumble, Taehyung started to furiously type on his phone.
Staying true to the promise he made to himself, Jimin had dutifully spent the entirety of the class staring at the woman's picture from yesterday – saving her gorgeous body's every texture, every blemish and every beauty mark to his memory. So that it'd be this body that came to his mind when he tightened his fist over himself in the middle of the night.
Not to be too sickeningly romantic, but his wank bank needed a desperate overhaul if he was ever going to stop being pathetic. He was done envisioning his roommate in positions he would never actually get to see her in. Or, at least, he should have been done. He was sure as hell gonna work on it, though.
And maybe, just maybe, this exercise would get him back in the game and he would actually be able to fuck people without your face in his head to push him over the edge.
"She says she'd send her ass when she gets back from class, today!" Taehyung suddenly exclaimed, waving the chat screen of his phone in front of Jimin's face. "Wow, dude, this girl is something else."
Jimin gave a small rise to his brows at Taehyung's lovestruck eyes. The dude literally fell in love every week, it wouldn't be a surprise if he felt he'd fallen again. Even when he hadn't seen the girl's face, yet alone actually met her in person.
"Show me, too, when you get it."
Taehyung shot him a grin. "See, that's the kind of stuff I like hearing from you, Park! We're young, we're warm blooded – the world expects us to be perverted. We're literally being disappointments by showing morals."
Jimin had to laugh at that, choosing to see the words in a humorous light instead of beginning to correct them. 'Cause where to even start? And knowing how much he did of Taehyung, the guy most definitely believed in his flawed logic, wholeheartedly.
"So, where to, next?"
Jimin hummed. "I got Econometrics in half an hour. Probably gonna crash in the cafeteria. You?"
Taehyung looked lost in thoughts, looking straight up ahead. Jimin knocked shoulders with him to grab the guy’s attention, causing Taehyung to look at him with a start. "Uh? Oh! I was actually thinking I'd pay her a visit. I've got Music Theory in three hours. Much time to spare."
Jimin's jaw dropped open. "You – you're gonna visit her? You don't even know her name, dude! Or what she looks like!"
Taehyung blinked, very slowly, before letting a smirk curl up his face. He raised an eyebrow. "And she doesn't know any of that about me, either. But… I wasn't actually talking about her, Park."
Jimin gawped. "What? But you—"
"I was talking about her," Taehyung emphasized with a finger pointing at a girl standing a few feet away from them, eyeing Taehyung with her tongue flicking her lips.
Jimin blanched. Oh fuck, this was embarrassing.
"Although," Taehyung continued because the subtle humiliation had apparently not been enough, "I do see what goes on in your head, Park. Despite your strict moral code."
Jimin rolled his eyes. "We were just talking about her, dude, come on."
"Uh huh. That is exactly why you sounded so panicked and jealous, too, right?"
This time, Jimin scoffed. "I was certainly not jealous. Or panicked. I was taken aback."
Taehyung laughed. "Sure, buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Or, stay awake at night, in this case."
Jimin was left fuming as Taehyung made his way over to the girl he’d actually been talking about. He had to admit, he did feel somewhat foolish. It wasn’t like him to zone out so badly, or not be able to catch the context of a conversation like this, or not be aware of his surroundings. He’d always been remarkably sharp at it, in fact. And if his brain hadn’t been all jumbled since last night, he still would’ve been.
With a silent curse aimed at himself, Jimin stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark pants and started walking towards the cafeteria.
If all boiled down to it, it wasn’t even his fault that he was so lost. It was yours.
Jimin grimaced when last night’s events floated up to the forefront of his brain. He really did not need a reminder to feel worse about his situation with you. For a few moments, today, he’d even wondered if it would be better for you two to stop living together. But he would never in a million years kick you out, and he himself was way too selfish to willingly leave your shared living spaces.
Stepping into the cafeteria, he beelined for the counter. Ordering himself a mocha and a puff pastry, he pulled his phone out.
Only for his brows to jump when he discovered two unread messages from you.
anthro proff failed to show up yAY ME
going back home
Jimin rolled his lower lip between his teeth. Why were you being a good friend when he wanted to avoid you? You were making everything hard in his life – figuratively and literally.
With a snort at his own joke, he sent back a string of emojis and shoved his phone back into his pocket.
In the middle of his coffee and snack, he let his mind be plagued by the images of Taehyung’s nudes girl.
Ew. He needed to refer to her with something better, because that was a huge turn off, right there.
Jimin suddenly realised that this could turn into a problem if Taehyung actually ended up pursuing something more than a one night stand with the girl. Because, after all, the girl was sending nudes to obviously pursue something with Taehyung. Jimin probably should not be worrying all that much because Taehyung wasn’t even the last guy he would picture getting into a relationship in the middle of Junior year.
But this whole switching-my-lust thing he was doing was still not very healthy, was it? No, it wasn’t.
Jimin realised that it was a borderline toxic coping mechanism. He needed closure to get over the unfortunate crush/obsession/infatuation he had on/of/with you. Replacing one obsession with another was counterproductivity at its best. But he really couldn't afford any closures, no matter what. The whole reason why he was so stuck was that he couldn’t risk your friendship with him because his hormones were out of control. Telling you to get over would defeat the whole purpose of getting over you.
So he had to make do with his next best option – making his dumb mind realise that there were other things to get turned on by than your thighs. Even if it ended up being slightly destructive. But it couldn’t really be that bad when he hadn’t even seen this girl’s face, right?
Probably not, but he didn’t care all that much.
Just as he’d gotten up to toss his empty cup and paper plate into the bin, his phone pinged with a message. Wondering—and somewhat hoping, like the pathetic idiot he was—if you were, uncharacteristically, informing him that you’d reached your flat, he quickly pulled the device out of his pocket.
By the time he unlocked it, three more successive messages had arrived in his inbox.
All of them were from Taehyung.
kim from psych
COME TO TJE PARKIMG LOT HOLY FUCKLKLKKK JIMINNNMM
SJE HAS A TATTOO ASDFKKHHGDHSJ
HURTY THE FUVK UP IMA START JACKIJG OFF SOOM
Jimin cursed under his breath, grabbing his backpack to rush out of the cafeteria.
His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he jogged down to the parking lot. He was gonna miss his class – and Econometrics was one of the important subjects – but he honestly couldn’t be bothered, right now.
He was slightly out of breath by the time he reached Taehyung.
The guy really did look like he was minutes away from unzipping his pants right there, sitting on the hood of what was probably his own car. Huffing out a small laugh, Jimin walked up to him.
“So,” Jimin said as a means of greeting. “That good, huh?”
Taehyung’s trousers were very obviously tented, and despite the grossness, Jimin couldn’t judge him. He’d nearly had a similar reaction to the girl’s hips. He could sympathize with the guy.
“Kim?” Jimin called out with a laugh, making Taehyung startledly look up from his phone with his pupils swallowing nearly the entirety of his irises. “Holy shit, don’t come in your pants, dude!”
Taehyung released a pained groan, face contorting as if he was in actual, physical pain. Going by the condition of his crotch, he might actually have been. “Park,” he nearly moaned, “she told me to video call.”
Jimin's eyes widened in surprise. “Wow, dude. Congrats… I guess?”
Taehyung bit his lip, finally repositioning himself to make his erection slightly more covert. “I'm not ready, dude.”
Jimin cocked a single brow. “Evidence says you’re more than ready, Tae. Um, on that account,” he hesitantly began, almost not wanting to but knowing his inner moral compass would keep him awake through multiple nights on end if he didn’t. “You don’t have to show me the picture if things are, um, progressing between you guys. It’d be mo—”
“Don’t you fucking say morally wrong, you ass. I’m trying to fuck her, not marry her. You can even have a go after—” He suddenly cut himself off, frowning down at his crotch. “Awh, man, there goes my boner! Why’d you have to make me talk about relationships?”
JImin stifled a laugh. Taehyung was the poster child for college fuckboys, it seemed. Not that he didn’t know the fact beforehand, it was just hilarious and more than a little awakening to see him go through it, up close. “Um, sorry?”
“Just look at the fucking picture, Park!” Taehyung snarled, shoving his phone in Jimin’s unprepared hands.
Juggling a bit to catch the device before it could drop, Jimin had barely held the phone with the screen facing him, when—
His breath halted and his heart skipped a couple of beats.
Everything around him came to an immediate, screeching stop.
He didn’t even have the time to ogle the glorious twin globes separated by a thin strip of burgundy red running down the middle, because his attention was caught by—
Holy fuck, he was so so so royally fucked, thoroughly, in every single orifice in his body.
There, in the smack dab center of the screen, right above the barely there string of the red thong running across the luscious hips he’d fallen in love with in just a day — there sat his undoing.
A bright, royal blue and black butterfly tattoo.
The butterfly tattoo he’d been peeking at for a year now.
Your butterfly tattoo.
“See?” Taehyung’s whiny voice pulled him out of the despairing pool of absolute shock, blinding lust and utter agony he was spiraling into. “I can’t, man, I really can’t. If this is what her pictures do to me, oh God, the video call’s gonna kill me. And I can’t fucking wait to die a sated man!”
Taehyung’s words suddenly poured a bucket of iced water over Jimin, making him bodily jolt out of the remainder of his stupor.
The reality of the situation suddenly hit him – you’d been sending your nude pictures to Kim Taehyung. You were about to have a video chat with him. You intended to fuck him. Taehyung. Kim motherfucking Taehyung.
Oh no. Not on Jimin’s watch.
Molten jealousy filled up all his veins as he saw Taehyung getting comfortable in the backseat of his car with all the tinted glass windows. This fucker.
Uncaring how barbaric it made him out to be, Jimin decided he was not gonna let Taehyung actually see you on video before he’d at least had the chance to confront you about this whole thing. From what he knew of you and how much he understood, you weren’t the kind of girl to fall into the traps of the biggest fuckboy on our campus. There had to have been a major reason behind these actions of yours.
He had to talk to you — if not as someone who wanted to be the one to fuck you instead of Taehyung, then at least a friend and a well wisher who was worried about your well-being and emotional health.
“You can’t call her, Kim,” Jimin declared with a calm finality.
Taehyung did a double take. “Wh—did you say can’t? What? Why the fuck?”
“You just… shouldn’t. It’s not fair to her.” Jimin was really on the verge of a mental freak out.
“What the fuck, dude?” Taehyung looked irritated and more than a little indignant. “Fair to her? Who’re you, her caretaker all of a sudden? She literally asked for it!”
Jimin pursed his lips, swinging the phone out of his reach when Taehyung made to grab it. “You should tell her you showed me her pictures before you call her.”
“Dude! No, the fuck? Stop being a moral fucker! Is this girl your sister? Your girlfriend?” Taehyung looked a bit lost at Jimin’s sudden distress.
Jimin frowned. “No, none of those, but she’s—”
“Wait, so you do know her?” Taehyung looked surprised, and Jimin was surprised that he’d actually shown some use of his brain. “How’d you even recognise her? Wait! The tattoo?”
Jimin looked away, bitterly. “Yeah, the tattoo.” He exhaled, deciding to be upfront. “Look, Kim. I’ve been besotted with this girl for a really long time, okay? So—”
“So nothing, man! I didn’t come at her, okay? She was the one to approach me, and really boldly too with that nude of hers.” Taehyung suddenly narrowed his eyes. “And how can I even believe you? Maybe you’re lying because suddenly you wanna fuck her first!”
Jimin rolled his eyes, but Taehyung’s words did reach him. You really had approached Taehyung boldly. It hurt like a bitch that you were willing to fuck the campus fuckboy, actual personification of scum, but not him. Not Jimin, who cared about you enough to not try to fuck you.
What a world.
“She’s told me to be online at—oh fuck, in ten minutes! Give me my phone before I tackle you, Park!” Taehyung yelled from inside the car.
Jimin pursed his lips in thought. You had texted him about being home, hadn’t you? If he left now, he could get there in under ten minutes, and—
And what, then?
Well, at least talk to you before you showed Taehyung your face and cemented your place in the guy’s bed.
Mind made up, Jimin tossed Taehyung’s phone below the driver’s seat to buy him more time as he ran for it.
“Hey, hey, what—Park, you fucking bitch!”
Ignoring Taehyung’s calls, Jimin rushed through the college gates and sprinted down the sidewalk. Shouldering people out of his way—but also mumbling a litany of apologies along with it because he could picture his mother’s disapproving gaze—he didn’t even pause to catch his breath until he was scrambling down the stairs of the subway.
As fate would have it, the doors of the parked train were just beginning to slide shut when Jimin set foot on the platform.
Cursing, he leapt from the last stair, his feet meeting the ground just twice as he dived into the train, two seconds before the gates sealed shut.
Doing a victorious, little fist pump, he finally allowed himself to catch his breath, leaning his hands on his knees. When he straightened, a couple of people around him were looking at him weird. But he couldn’t let anything bother him — he was a man on a mission.
Within three minutes, the train was stopping at the next stop and Jimin was running out the gates and straight out of the subway.
As he stepped up the stairs to his flat, sweat was soaking his white t-shirt and he was hating himself for wearing skin tight jeans. Jogging up to the door, he quickly unlocked the apartment and rushed in, locking the door behind him. Haphazardly taking his shoes off and tossing the keys somewhere on the couches, he beelined for your room.
Hesitating only once, he turned the doorknob. It was locked.
You were getting ready to have virtual sex with Taehyung.
Clenching his jaw, he rapped his palm against the door thrice, his rings helping louden the sound.
He fidgeted, nervous out of his mind. He couldn’t even think about what he would say to you, way too occupied with the task of stopping you from making that call to Taehyung.
He called your name, followed by two more successive raps.
For a frightening second, he feared he was too late and you had already started with your—
“Jimin, is that you?” you yelled from inside the door.
Jimin squared his shoulders. “Open up! It’s urgent!”
Sounds of shuffling filtered through the door to him before you unlocked it and nearly tore it off the hinges with the strength you pulled it open with.
“What?” you barked, scowling at him. But then suddenly your frown melted away as your eyes did a quick sweep of his breathless, sweaty self, lingering—he noticed—around his neck. “What the hell, Jimin? Where’re you coming from?”
Jimin decided to do some exploration of his own.
Your face was flushed, chest heaving up and down—
And Jimiin was fixated on your prominent nipples pushing against the oversized black t-shirt you’d obviously tossed over yourself in a hurry. He’d glimpsed your breasts in that very delicious photo, of course, but he’d fixated on your hips and not paid them enough attention. He regretted saying no to Taehyung's offer of looking at the boob pic you’d sent him, because…
Jimin’s thoughts faded out when he came back to himself.
You had sent Taehyung a pic of your boobs, too. The way Jimin felt like punching through a fucking wall!
“Stop staring at my boobs, pervert!” you suddenly scolded him, clicking your fingers in front of his face. “What was so urgent? I’m kinda in the middle of—”
“Please don’t do it,” he blurted, wide-eyed at his own brazenness, but he just felt so desperate, at this point.
You gaped at him. “What?”
“Don’t – don’t fuck him, please,” he continued arms darting forward to hold you by your shoulders.
You stiffened in his grasp, eyes going impossibly wide. “Jimin, what—are you – are you okay? What the fuck are you even talking about?”
He grew pained. “Taehyung. Don’t fuck him.”
He saw you draw in a sharp breath. “I wasn’t actually—wait, how do you know this?”
He rolled his lower lip into his mouth. “Well…he told me.”
You jumped away from him with your mouth dropped open. “What? How the hell do you even knowhim?”
“I sit with him in my psych class."
"In your psych—" You suddenly gasped. "The eccentric fuckboy!”
Jimin blinked, lip leaving the confines of his teeth with a plop. He didn’t miss the way your eyes dropped down to it for a moment. “What?”
“After your first class together, you told me you'd found a fuckboy with eccentric fashion choices to sit with. You said his name was Tannie! You have his number saved under Kim from psych!"
Jimin winced. "He’d told me way too much about himself, I messed up some details. Tannie’s his dog’s name."
“So, Taehyung is the eccentric fuckboy you sit next to, for an hour, three days a week."
“Oh, my God, this is fucked up,” you wailed, turning around to pace next to your bed, hands sifting through your open hair.
Jimin eyed the laptop on your bed. It suddenly came back to him – you’d seen Taehyung’s dick’s outline. You wanted to suck that abominable, STD infested, overused dick.
Jimin really hated his life, right now.
“So, don’t do it,” he tried again, walking into your room with authority he didn’t have. “Please.”
You looked at him with a scowl, face pulled in around your scrunched up nose in the middle. “Stop saying that!"
“Why do you even wanna?” Jimin whined, sounding more than a little sulky as he stood in your way, prompting you to stop walking. “He’s, like, the most despicable fuckboy on campus!”
“Well, that’s exactly why! I don’t need his heart, I just need his dick!” you crudely told him, throwing both your arms up. “It helps that it comes with explosive reviews from the entire female population on campus. I’ve had a frustrating couple of weeks, and, ugh. I really don't have any energy or patience to go through trials and errors to finally find someone who won’t disappoint.”
Jimin was breathing heavily after you finished speaking. You were that desperate for a fuck?
He dragged his heavy gaze over your body, bottom to top – you were barefoot with your toenails painted a gorgeous shade of royal blue, your bare calves were toned, slowly expanding into thighs that were—fuck. These thighs were ultimate ruiners of his sleep, God.
Your hands were balled at your sides. The oversized t-shirt you wore ended mid-thighs on your body, wrapping over your hips that he now knew to be juicy as fuck, and proceeded to tent at your breasts where your nipples were still fully erect and intending to cut through cloth.
The neck of the t-shirt was wide enough to let your collarbones be on complete display. Jimin held in a groan of want, pulling his lower lip in as he followed the smooth line of your long neck all the way up to your face. Your lips were redder than he was used to. You were wearing lipstick, he realised with a start, mouth falling open in surprise. Your eyes were lined with something, too, making them sharper than usual.
You were dressed to seduce, and he was trapped under your spell.
You looked good enough to eat.
What wouldn’t he give to be able to toss you onto this very bed and fuck the living daylights out of you…
“I can’t believe that fucker really told you,” your mumble suddenly brought him out of his lewd musings, and he adjusted his legs to be covert about his hardening length.
“Isn’t it typical of him? What else did you expect?” Jimin shrugged. “He also very nearly circulated the first nude you sent him to half the college campus. He literally bullied me into seeing it.”
Your face suddenly colored. “You… you saw my pictures?” you asked him in a small voice.
Jimin noticed how you focussed on the latter part of the sentence, and not the—evidently more concerning—former. Interesting.
“Just the first one.” His voice came out hoarse, throat suddenly very dry at the memory. “And then the last one, briefly. I recognized your tattoo…”
His eyes travelled down to your waist of their own accord, images and scenes running wild in his head. Those hips. Those delicious fucking hips were right here, within his reach. And they belonged to you — the girl of his fantasies of over a year.
Jimin exhaled brokenly, trying to calm himself down.
“Why are you stopping me?” you asked him in a mumble, sitting down on your bed. “I’m not trying to marry him, just hop on his dick for some gratification. I’m even gonna block his number after.”
He looked back up at your face, only to draw in a sharp breath. Your eyes were so so dark. His own probably mirrored yours.
He couldn’t hold back anymore.
“I…could possibly have an offer for an alternative. A better, less emotionally damaging and certainly more STD-proof alternative.”
Your lips quirked to the side. You leant back on the bed, supporting your weight on your palms, and crossed your legs.
Jimin’s gaze immediately zeroed in on your smooth thighs, and the desire to bury his face between them nearly incinerated him from within.
“Is that so?” Your voice had turned breathy. “Better alternative, huh? Got any testimonials to back it up?”
Holy fuck, were you really responding to his flirting?
“Not really,” Jimin murmured. And even though he did have a slew of ex partners that could vouch for his sexual prowess, he just wasn’t the kind of guy to brag so brazenly about all that. He licked his lips, taking a tentative step closer to you as he came up with a more tantalising offer. “You could sample it.”
Lust flooded your gaze, making it darker than he’d ever seen it in his life. Even if your words from yesterday morning had, apparently, not meant what he’d hoped for them to, this, right here – the naked want on your face, told him a whole different story. It felt unreal, and he wasn’t certain this wasn’t just a fever dream. But if it was a fever dream, he was gonna make it one hell of a memorable one.
When your hands nimbly reached out to wordlessly shut your laptop, moved closer to you, leaning a bit to catch your gaze.
“Would you like to?” he mumbled, softly.
Your breath stuttered out in response.
“Taehyung promised me he’d choke me on his cock,” you told him so abruptly, he almost gasped out loud.
But then Jimin clenched his jaw and walked even closer. He stepped between your legs and slid a hand into your hair, cupping your head with his fingers and massaging the skin behind your ear with his thumb. “Is that something you want, baby?” he breathed out, relishing the way your eyelashes fluttered at his touch. Or maybe his words, he wasn’t sure. “Hmm?”
Your tongue licked at your bottom lip, dragging a salacious path against the plump flesh until the red matte lipstick was glossy with your saliva. Jimin wanted to suck on it until it was red without the makeup’s tint, too.
“What do you think, Park?”
Something about the way you spoke his surname in a challenging tone had him going rock hard in his pants. He wanted to ruin you.
“Oh, I think you do,” he whispered, tugging your head up to straighten your body from its recline.
Your chin came to the same level as his belt. His whole body shuddered when you accidentally brushed against it.
“And I’ll make you choke on it, alright,” he continued, “after which I’ll make you clench on it, make you drench it with your juices. And if you’re good, maybe I’ll choke you without it, too.”
Your irises were twin black disks as you stared into his eyes with your breath bated. “Shit, Park, I…” You shook your head, pulling your lower lip into your mouth. “You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned, eyes sliding shut, and brought both your palms up to bunch into his t-shirt.
A small smirk slid up Jimin’s face. “Is that so?” he murmured, thrilled by the look of torture on your face when your brows scrunched up. “Well, sweetheart, you happen to be the sexiest, most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. And even though I’ve acquired evidence to support my claim very recently, I’ve told you this multiple times before,” he mumbled, mouth watering at the sight of you nibbling on your lip.
Your heavy lidded eyes met his as you slowly opened them again. “You have, but… never with this look in your eyes.” Your breath hitched, one of your hands leaving his shirt to wander the length of his torso, lingering near the end of his abs. He held back a shiver. “Like you want to rip my clothes off and devour me whole, this very moment.”
Jimin’s nostrils flared, teeth grinding even harder. Oh, how he wanted that. How he wanted exactly that.
“Oh, sweetheart, I do intend to do that and more. Lay you bare beneath me, touch every single inch of your body. And then let my tongue follow.”
You made a small sound from the back of your throat and Jimin very nearly came in his pants. “What’s the hold up, then? All I hear are promises, Park. Where’s the delive—”
With a growl, Jimin tightened his grip on the back of your neck and pulled your face in to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, effectively shutting you up and fulfilling your demand at the same time.
The first contact was, very poetically, electric. Current zapped through his body, beginning where your soft lips had molded against his in acceptance, and reaching all the way down to his semi-erect length. Which was now starting to painfully strain against his too tight jeans.
Your mouth opened up to him, and he swallowed your moan of want when his tongue brushed against yours. He poured all his pent up feelings and desires into the kiss, pressing harder against you when you pliantly tilted your head back to give him more room.
Jimin couldn’t fathom he was kissing you. Finally, fucking finally, after more than a year of lusting for these lips — he finally had them entwined with his own. He lost his mind somewhere in between the soft pull of your even softer lips, harsh nips of your teeth, smooth glides of your tongue.
And then he grabbed a handful of your hips, and went feral.
With a grunt, Jimin opened his mouth wider, licking into yours between harshly sucking on your tongue. It was a mess — sloppy and wet and desperate when he explored your mouth with full fervor, tongue curling against the inner seams of your lips.
Your hand slid over his waist, leaving fire in its wake as it slid past his t-shirt to trace the tight muscles of his abdomen. Jimin brought his other hand to rest next to you on the bed, now leaning over you.
His lungs were protesting for air, but he just couldn’t get enough of your taste. It was you that finally pulled away, panting heavily into his mouth.
Jimin blinked, struggling to come out of the daze you’d put him in. He looked at your parted lips, hunger building up in him when he saw the smudges of your lipstick around them. Your wide eyes gazed up at him with so much naked lust, holy fuck. He so very desperately wanted you naked.
“You want this?” he asked you, testing his own restraint when his length ached from being confined for so long in its rock hard state.
You looked too delirious to respond, nodding very slowly with your eyes nearly glazing over as your gaze lowered to look at his crotch.
“Say the words, sweetheart. This is about consent, I’m not trying to force you into something you’re hesitant about,” Jimin unnecessarily clarified, well aware of how both of your bodies were vibrating with need.
“Jimin, for God’s sake, stop talking and fuck me,” you gritted out, grabbing hold of his t-shirt and tugging at it until he was raising himself off the bed to get rid of it.
Tossing it aside, he raked a hand through his hair and peered down at you. Your mouth hung open, eyes seeming to drink him up.
Well, good for you, because he was losing his sanity with every passing second that he was spending close to you but not close enough.
“As you wish, sweetheart,” he mumbled before moving to unbuckle his belt and quickly unbutton his jeans in succession.
He stopped there, though, and caught hold of your hand when you tried to reach for his waistband. He shook his head when your eyes shot to his.
He saw your throat move on a gulp. You skittered back on the bed, rising up on your knees when you’d reached the center. He followed you, placing a knee on your bed to get to you.
Your fingers trembled as they reached for the hem of your t-shirt, with suppressed want or nervousness, Jimin couldn't tell. He was a mixture of both.
He watched, breathing completely ceased, as the t-shirt rose and unleashed more and more of your smooth skin. When you raised it above your waist, he sucked in a large breath, eyes widened, jaw dropped open and body nearly quivering with want.
Your juicy fucking hips.
They were right there, calling out to him with their hourglass curve as they tapered into your trim waist with a soft abdomen. You wore a tiny, burgundy scrap of lace as a substitute for underwear, and he recalled it to be the thong he’d barely caught a glimpse of in the picture of your ass.
Your breasts bounced free, next, and Jimin moved his throat in a thick swallow, a palm cupping over his crotch. Your nipples were pebbled and juicy, and he just wanted to wrap his lips around them and suck to his heart’s content.
He shuffled forward on the bed when you got to your shoulders, helping you untangle your arms and hair from the piece of clothing.
Once the t-shirt was fully off, you looked at him with a bashful smile. “Why’re you gawking like that? You’ve seen it all before,” you mumbled, sitting back on your haunches, your own gaze rounding back to his torso.
“Pictures don’t hold a light for the real deal, holy fuck,” he managed to choke out.
Your coy smile turned challenging. “How do you know? You haven’t even touched, yet.”
The nerve of you to—
Jimin pounced, knocking you back into the mattress as he covered your body with his, making sure to press every inch of himself on you.
Your wide eyes looked at him in surprise but more than a little hunger, and oh did he want to take care of that.
One of his forearms dug into the bed next to your head while his other hand gripped at your shoulder. He hissed against your lips when your curves molded against him.
“You’re so fucking insufferable but so fucking delectable, fuck,” he gasped, unable to resist when his eyes fell onto your quivering lips, and kissed you again.
You moaned loudly into his mouth, not in the least bit shy about devouring his lips as messily as he did yours. Your tongue curled against his, making his insides turn to molten lava. He could feel your nipples against his chest and, his palm slid down your side, curving along your breast as it spanned down to—
His palm met your hip and he was lost.
“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, digging his fingers in.
Your dark eyes looked back at him, shuttered, sensuous and perfectly fitting for the goddess that you were.
“Do you know how fucking long I've fantasized about having this body of yours under me, you minx?” he grumbled, sliding down your body.
His mouth latched onto your neck, both hands curving around your waist as he pressed kisses down the column of your throat. Your head fell back with a moan, granting him more access, and he took advantage of it, running his mouth up to your jaw, his tongue licking at your skin.
Your skin was so soft and smooth – even more than it looked.
He grazed his teeth against your jaw, pulling back to look at you.
Your eyes were shut, brows pinched, and mouth was hanging open in abandon. He leaned over your face to pull your bottom lip into his mouth. Giving it a hard suckle, he let go with a pop.
Your eyes fluttered open, looking at him with an intoxicated look on your face. “Jimin…”
“Yes, sweetheart?” His fingers dug into your waist.
“Touch me,” you whimpered, throat convulsing.
Jimin grinned. “I am.”
His palms slid down your sides, and as he met the curve of your hips again, his previous plans of teasing you flew out the window.
Holy fucking hell.
“These fucking hips,” he grit out, digging his fingers into the meaty flesh. “They’ve been driving me insane, do you know?”
You really did have the sexiest body he had ever seen. A perfect figure with enough chubbiness in places to make you feel soft, womanly and real. His eyes were caught by your abdomen and he leant down to press a kiss beneath your navel before he could think too much about it.
“You’re so soft and so delicious…”
You released a muted gasp in response, but he was too busy exploring the curve of your waist. His fingers ran over your smooth skin, nails scratching lightly. You jumped when he went a little rougher, and he gripped you harder, leaning down again, this time to suck open mouthed kisses over your waist, all the way from your navel to the dip in your side.
You broke off on a gasp when his tongue met your skin, tracing wet paths, absorbing the taste to his memories. He groaned into your stomach, dragging his face over the flimsy waistband of your underwear. He moved to the side to tug at the string at your hip with his teeth, licking underneath it, and then dug his teeth into the delicious flesh beneath.
A moan slipped past his own lips, nearly drowning the stream of gasping sounds coming from you. He had his mouth on these goddess-like hips.
Finally, fucking finally.
“Jimin, Jimin, fuck—”
He tasted his fill, leaving kisses, and nipping, biting and licking you up as he desired. The delicate waistband of your thong was haphazardly pulled every which way, only barely covering your center as Jimin went about devouring you.
Your breathing was labored, chest heaving and shoulders twitching when he finally managed to pull himself off your body. He looked at you from under his brows. You had an arm folded over your forehead and the other hand fisted in your pillow. You already looked fucked out and he’d barely even done anything.
Pressing a hand down on your abdomen, he pulled your attention to him.
Your eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated and everything. Your lips were well-bitten, swollen and red. So fucking delicous.
He slid his palm up your torso, curving around your breast. You visibly trembled when he gave the rounded flesh a squeeze. Jimin loved the sight, moving his thumb to flick at your nipple.
“Jimin,” you breathed, hand moving from the pillow to grip at his wrist.
Jimin clicked his tongue, removing your hand. “Ah ah, no,” he murmured, voice deeper, loaded with arousal.
You mutely looked at him, eyes wide and irises nearly wholly eclipsed by your pupils.
He swiped his tongue over his lower lip, placing your arm above your head with the other one. He held both your wrists in his hand and tugged, causing your breasts to jiggle invitingly. Barely containing the wanton moan that swelled up in his throat at the sight, Jimin flicked your nipple again.
“These hands,” Jimin murmured, face lowered to your throat as he leant over you, “stay here. You move them, we stop. Understood?”
He dipped his head to lick at a sweat droplet collected between your collarbones. Your breath stuttered out and he saw you swallow.
Jimin drew back when he didn’t hear you respond.
You were panting, now, lower lip extended way past your jaw as you looked at him with your eyes rounded.
He raised an eyebrow. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”
You gasped aloud, as if suddenly inhaling a lot of air after having stopped breathing for a few seconds. Maybe you had, you looked very much on the edge.
Your head jerked in a nod, fingers of both hands gingerly clasping together above your head.
“I’m gonna need your words, baby,” he prompted you in a low murmur. “And I better not have to repeat myself.”
You shut your mouth with a click, eyes widening just a tad bit. “I… yes,” you whispered, voice nothing but a hoarse whisper. “Yes, I understand.”
Jimin nodded, lowering his mouth to sweep his tongue over your neglected nipple before engulfing it whole. “Good,” he spoke into your skin, relishing the taste of you.
Jimin caught apprehension beneath your breathiness. He immediately pulled his head up to look into your eyes. “Yes, sweetheart? Are you okay?”
“I…” You nodded.
But then you were biting your lip again and Jimin couldn’t believe how fucking lucky he was to have you looking so submissive beneath him. All his dreams – coming to an unimaginably amazing conclusion.
He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure this wasn’t a fever dream.
You cleared your throat, jutting your chin out in an obviously faux show of confidence. “I don’t have to call you, like… master, or something, do I?”
Despite the instant tightening in his pants, Jimin couldn't hold back the laugh that tumbled out of him. He threw his head back and guffawed. Yeah, this was definitely real.
You slapped him on the thigh. “Shut up!”
He collected himself with difficulty. “No master, sweetheart. Just my name would be fine.”
“Well, you’re into some kinky shit, Park, I was just making sure.” You crossed your hands against your chest, pouting crossly. “Could’ve said a simple no, though. Didn’t have to laugh like that, you meanie.”
He was still grinning even as he gripped both your wrists and pulled your arms up to pin them next to your head. Your pout slipped away, lips falling open on a gasp. He leant over your body, pressing his chest against yours, smirking when your lashes fluttered.
You felt delicious, all sweet and soft curves pressed up against his planes.
“You hit me.”
You blinked, frowning. “Wha—”
“You hit me. On the thigh.”
Your eyes went wide in alarm and Jimin chuckled at the horror on your face. “I’m — I’m sorry, Jimin, I—”
He slid higher up your body, grinding his denim covered crotch into you. “Are you?”
You choked on an inhale, moaning with your mouth closed when Jimin moved his hips again. Your tongue peeked out to lick at your lips while you gave him a nod.
“Yes, Jimin,” you whispered, eyes looking away from him as you demurely lowered them.
Jimin hissed. Why did every single, little action of yours make him lose all control over himself? He sighed.
He looked up at your hands struggling in his grip, and then around the room. And then he looked down at himself, eyes pausing at his waist. He quickly unlooped his belt from his jeans.
He pulled your wrists up to the bars in the headboard and glanced at your face. “This okay? Use your words.”
Your cheeks were red when you nodded. “Yes. Yeah, it’s okay.”
“Good.” He looped his belt through the bars and, binding your wrists together, tightened the buckle. “This good?”
He quickly dipped his head to nip at your collarbone. “Words.”
“Y—yes, yes, Jimin. This is – it’s good,” you brokenly breathed.
Jimin nodded his approval, patting your cheek affectionately.
Then he descended your body and got to work on your breasts, weighing them in his palms as his thumb flicked both their tips. Your body twitched beneath him, little whimpers egging him on, you looking at him with your sultry gaze. He moved a hand to close his forefinger and thumb over a nipple, tugging the flesh and giving it a jerk. Your breast jiggled, and you both groaned in unison.
“Look at you, sweetheart, God,” Jimin groaned, one hand mapping the surface of your abdomen to rest below your navel. He tugged at your nipple with his other hand, again. “These are pure sin.”
His mouth closed over the other nipple.
Jimin hummed contently, swirling his tongue around the nipple before dragging his lips off of it. He immediately moved on to the other side, bringing his other hand back up to cup over your breast. He squeezed at the soft flesh while his teeth grazed against the sensitive tip, and you mewled beneath him.
He had his mouth wrapped around the gorgeous, perky nipples he’d seen in your picture, yesterday, and wanted to taste. Life really didn't get better than this, did it?
He looked up at your face to find your lip locked between your teeth and eyes screwed shut. He bit down, sinking his teeth into the supple flesh of your tit.
Your eyes sprang open with a gasp, neck immediately craning to look at him.
He met your gaze with a wink, lapping at your skin with his tongue.
Your moan was loud and deep, vibrating through your chest to his mouth. Jimin suckled hungrily, hands grabbing at you greedily.
When he finally pulled away, he’d left a huge, blooming red mark on you and it was rapidly changing colors to turn purple. Jimin pressed a kiss against it.
His hands made their way down to the string of the waistband of your thong, index finger twisting the fabric.
“This little piece of lace,” he mocked. “What good does it do, anyway?”
Your cheeks were flaming when he met your eyes. “I…”
“It’s so fragile,” Jimin whispered in a breathless urgency, moving to plant a kiss in the middle of said piece of clothing, over the wet patch he could clearly spot. “Bet I could tear it off with a single finger.”
He heard your breath hitch as he gave the waistband another twist, wrapping it over the knuckle of his index finger now. He tucked his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes ravenously drinking up the sight of you peeking past the tiny triangle of your thong.
And then he snapped the damn thing, tearing it into two and pulling it off your body.
“Chim!” your gasp was instant, back arching in an attempt to rise but you were held back by your tied hands.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he mumbled, but he wasn’t actually in a condition to listen to you, right now.
Not when he had you spread out, pink and swollen and pretty in front of him. He dropped the cloth off to the side, bringing in both his palms to part your legs even further.
And your thighs. These fucking thighs with all their plumpness and the jiggle in them when you walked around in booty shorts, ugh.
“D’you know how crazy you’ve driven me with these?”
He massaged the inside of your thighs and your body gyrated, hips shifting with your gasps.
“I was walking around with permanent boners because the sight of your legs drove me insane. All I could think about was wrapping these around my waist,” he husked, depraved eyes running over the smooth skin of your thighs before his palms followed, tracing a path from the underside of your knee, up to your hips, “and fucking you against the nearest wall.”
“Jimin,” you stuttered, eyes looking at him in what looked like wonder, your breathing seemingly ceased.
Well, he would give you a reason to breathe. Gasp. Scream his name.
He dragged his hands up to the juncture of your thighs, spread them, and trained his eyes at your center. His reserve completely gave out when he found you slick and sopping wet, with your arousal painting the tops of your thighs.
“So fucking messy,” he gritted, teeth clenching tight, “and much more dirtier than my filthiest fantasies.”
Jimin reached out with two fingers, parting your folds to expose you fully to his sight.
“Ah, fuck. That’s – that feels cold…” you whispered, wide eyes roving his face.
Jimin realised his rings had made contact with you. He sucked in a breath at the sight of your slick rubbing over his silver bands.
“Oh, baby,” he purred, drowning in lust, mouth salivating. “You’re dripping everywhere, sweetheart, fuck. Look at you ruining my rings. So fucking pretty.”
His fingers slipped down your lips, brushing your clit and converging as they travelled lower yet. He watched with rapt attention, eyes wide and tongue resting against his upper teeth as his fingers slipped right into you, travelling deep into your gripping warmth.
A low sound left him just as you moaned out his name.
"All this for me, yeah?" He nipped at your thigh above your knee.
You nodded, your half lidded gaze on him. "All for you. Just for you."
He sucked in a huge breath, grunting when his fingers scissored up to the spot he was looking for inside of you. He experimentally curled his fingers, eyes darting up to look at your face.
You jumped at the contact, eyes squeezing shut and jaw dropping open.
“There?” He watched your contorted face with rapt attention.
“Uh huh,” tumbled out of your mouth as you nodded frantically.
Having mercy on your mindless state, he let you get away without speaking up this one time. He wanted to touch you, taste you, consume you until you were sobbing in his arms. That, and he himself was too far gone to care, right now.
He released your thigh from his other hand, sitting up on the bed and spreading his own knees for some relief while his fingers moved in you. Unzipping his jeans with his free hand, he tugged the fabric off his crotch, sighing when the tightness released. Then he moved the hand to hold you by your waist, your leg folding up between your bodies.
Jimin licked his lips, hair falling in his eyes and gaze never leaving your fucked out face. He gripped your calf, unfolding it and tossing it over his shoulder. Your eyes opened, looking straight at him past a hazy curtain. He gave you a grin, moving his head to press an open mouthed kiss against your ankle, and you jerked against him, biting down on your lip and squeezing your eyes shut again.
“S—so good, Jimin…”
Jimin’s cheek ticked up in a smile, fingers moving in you faster.
You looked exquisite like this – spread in front of him like a platter, hands pulled up and tied off, breasts bouncing, back arching, hips moving to his rhythm, and pussy stuffed full with his fingers. He wanted to touch you, taste you, consume you until you were sobbing in his arms.
“You look so delectable, I wanna fucking eat you up whole,” he grunted, pressing his nose into your ankle to ground himself.
But it still wasn’t enough.
Drunk on your inebriating scent filling up the air between the two of you, Jimin lowered himself on the bed and launched himself onto you, tongue moving to lick at your clit.
“Oh m—Fuck! Jimin! Holy – shit!”
Egged on by your yelps, Jimin attached his open mouth to you, letting his lips meet your wetness while his tongue rolled over your clit. Your taste was heady – an aphrodisiac if there was ever one. He could get drunk on this.
And he intended to.
“So fucking delicious, baby,” he spoke into you. “Could eat you out forever, mm hmm.”
“Jimin, Jimin, oh my God, fuck, Ji~min,” you chanted his name, tugging at your constraints and twisting your body every which way, but Jimin’s grip on your thigh held you in place.
He slurped at your leaking slit, pulling his fingers out of you to let his tongue take their place, massaging your entrance and dipping past it in small licks.
“Chim...please,” you groaned, craning your neck as far as you could to look at his head of dark hair working between your legs. “More.”
But Jimin was unrelenting, not letting up with his mellow teasing as he licked, kissed and nipped at your cunt without delivering what he knew you needed. His fingers, slick with your arousal, moved to hold your hips down from moving too much, smearing your abdomen with your own wetness.
The thought of licking your essence off those sinful hips made him lose what remained of his senses, and Jimin dove full in. He had you at his mercy with your hands out of service and hips in his vice like grasp, and you were well aware of the power he held if your desperate pleas were anything to go by.
He hummed against your clit, teeth raking against the soft flesh and you convulsed above him, begging for a whole different reason now.
“Jimin! I’m close… please, baby…”
“Not yet, sweetness,” Jimin murmured into you. “Let me have a proper taste first.”
He flattened his tongue over your slit, licking a fat stripe up your cunt, and you yelled out a garbled curse, thighs quivering in his grasp. Then he dipped his tongue in again, licking into your heat while his nose bumped into the hood of your clit. Your high pitched yells of his name were gradually losing coherence, making him grin against you in satisfaction.
He decided to bring his fingers back in, sliding two of them into you again and massaging the spot they met when he curled them, while his lips closed over your clit in a tight suction. Your body quivered above him, drawn out groans of some contorted form of his name escaping you and echoing in the space around you two.
“Don’t you dare come until I tell you to,” he spoke into you, voice coming out ragged and heavy and hungry.
Jimin furiously fucked you with his fingers, teeth coming in to play with your clit as he did, grunting at the squelching sounds it made. Your cunt seemed to be growing narrower by how hard you were clenching around him, he could tell you were getting closer. He uncurled his other hand from your thigh to rest on your abdomen, feeling the stickiness he’d left there before, and he gripped your waist to pull you further down onto his mouth and fingers. He messily ate you out, tongue licking every inch of your delicious softness and lips meshing into you before sucking at your clit, voraciously.
You whined aloud, and Jimin chuckled against you.
“All good, baby?” he hummed into you, and you broke into a litany of pleas.
“Jim...Jimin...I’m gom—gonna – please, I—ungh, please lemme come, pleathe…”
Jesus fucking Christ, he would lose his fucking mind.
He swore to himself, detaching his mouth from you long enough to rest the side of his head against your thigh and look at your face which was all screwed up in agony. He groaned at the sight, sponging a kiss to the inside of your thigh, fingers moving in you even more frenetically.
“Come for me, baby.”
He immediately returned to your core and pressed even closer into you, flicking his tongue over your clit once before swirling it around in tight circles.
“Come all over my tongue, pretty, lemme drink you up.”
Your channel gripped his fingers even harder and your moans grew in pitch. Jimin immediately wrapped his lips around your little nub to suck as hard as he could.
Your reaction was instant, a scream of his name ripping from your throat and the heel of your leg hooked over his shoulder digging into his shoulder blade as your body drew taut.
“Ji—min, fuck fuck fuck. Fuck! Fuck—ah!”
Your walls fluttered around his fingers, squeezed so tight around them he wondered if he would even fit inside of you. But your juices had him forgetting about everything but your intoxicating taste, and he withdrew his fingers from you to seal his mouth over your entrance, lapping up every bit of your release.
"Mm hmm, so pretty, so delicious, baby…"
“Chim… too much, ah…” your weak sob somehow penetrated the cloud of lust he was swimming in.
Very reluctantly, Jimin gave a single parting lick to your pussy, swiping his tongue from the very bottom to the very top, and moved to sit up between your spread legs. He brought his wet fingers up to his mouth, popping them in and licking off every trace of your heavenly taste from them.
He hadn’t realised when his eyes had closed in bliss, but your little gasp made him open them to meet yours.
“You did so well, sweetheart,” he praised, brushing a kiss on the top of your knee with his lips still soaked in your essence. He sat back on his haunches and swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and chin, then. “Are you okay?”
Your gaze was heavy, lips red and parted as you stated at him. Then you scoffed a small laugh, lips pulling up in a smile.
"I’m – I’m more than okay, oh God. That was… so fucking good, Chim, your mouth is… fuck," you breathed out, still panting heavily. “You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life. What the fuck, Park?!”
Jimin scoffed. You were calling him sexy? Had you seen yourself? Your breasts were heaving enticingly, sweat dotting various parts of your body, and Jimin really just wanted to lick your entire body clean.
He brought a hand up to rake through his hair, abs and obliques flexing with his action. He noticed your eyes trace his torso. He grinned at you wickedly when you licked your lips.
“See something you like?”
“Oh my God, Jimin, untie me,” you moaned, taking him by surprise. “Right now.”
He squinted at you. “What makes you think you’re in a position to give orders, here, sweetheart?”
"I really really need your cock in my mouth in the next ten seconds, or I might die," you announced with your wide eyes looking really serious and sort of panicked.
Jimin nearly swallowed his tongue, because damn did that filthy mouth of yours bypass his imagination. He had never been so hard in his life.
“Is that right?” He reined in his surprise and looked down his nose at you.
You squirmed under his gaze. “Yes, Chim. Please?”
“You could’ve asked nicely to start with, sweetness," he chastised, even as he moved to close your legs and straddle your waist to work the buckle of the belt. “Why run your mouth and risk being edged for an hour, hmm?"
Your movements froze for a moment, alarmed eyes connecting with his challenging ones. “Please don’t do that.”
Jimin gave a hearty laugh. “Ask nicely, then.”
He sat back on your thighs, leaving the belt still twisted up in your hands despite the buckle being undone. Waiting.
He crossed his arms over his chest when you kept gaping at him. “Go on?”
You whined, turning your face to the side. “Come on, Jiminie, untie me! You deserve to have your soul sucked out of your cock, baby, please don’t deprive me. Please?”
His eyebrows shot up at your unexpected surrender. He’d expected you to protest more. Did you really want him in your mouth that bad? Oh, God.
“Are you trying to make me come in pants like a fucking teenager, what the hell?”
You pouted at him, eyes shining with mischief. “Someone said something about choking me with his cock. I’m just trying to get you to fulfill your promises, Park.”
Jimin smirked at you, lips parting and teeth peeking. He moved on top of you, nipping at the peak of your breast, the edge of your jaw, your earlobe – before feathering his lips over your ear. “I could do that with your hands tied, too, pretty,” he breathed. “Say the word.”
You choked on an inhale, chest frozen under him while he chuckled at you and sat back up.
“You’re sinful, Park Jimin,” you muttered, eyes shuttering in a playful glare.
Jimin tugged his belt off your hands and the bed frame, softly massaging your wrists while he slowly brought your arms down to rest on your abdomen.
“Looked in a mirror lately, Miss?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling your hands up to plant a soft kiss on the reddened skin of both your wrists.
You bashfully ducked your head, rising to sit up with his help.
He slid back on the bed, slowly widening his stance to accomodate you between his legs. He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you to him while he feathered the fingertips of the other hand over your thighs.
Your hand came up to cup his jaw, eyes gazing at him with unabashed lust and what seemed like a little bit of admiration. He smirked in response, tilting his head to accept you when you leant forward to capture his lips in a kiss. He immediately moaned into your mouth as you took command, massaging his lips with yours. Your other hand travelled to the back of his head, gripping his hair as you moved his head in accordance to you. Your tongue didn’t waste time in coming out to trace his lips, and he relinquished all control when you slid forward to straddle his lap with a deep groan.
He maneuvered the two of you around without breaking the kiss, and sat back against your headboard. He helped you wrap both your legs around his waist, one hand reaching up to massage your scalp while the other traveled down to palm your ass.
You fell against his chest, both palms landing on his body, and instead of gripping onto him to steady yourself the way he’d expected you to, your hands started to wander. One of them reached up to trace his pectoral muscles, fingers brushing his fevered skin until your thumb suddenly flicked against his nipple, making him grunt into your kiss.
Your lips formed a smirk, your other hand sliding down his abdomen to curve over the front of his jeans. Jimin nipped at your upper lip when you drew his bottom one into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue.
Your palm curled over him above his boxers. Blood hummed in his veins, making him cry out into your mouth.
Jimin pulled away from the kiss, canting his head back onto the headboard to catch his breath. You did the same with your head rolling over your shoulder, provocative eyes looking at him like a predator’s while your fist tightened over his length.
“Ready for the best suck of your life, Mister Park?” Your voice was breathy, borderline desperate, but your eyes held a spark of defiance.
Jimin bit his lip, very well aware of the jump in his cock at the address. He couldn’t believe how easily you changed forms from being a writhing, submitting mess underneath him to straight up messing with him.
He loved it.
When your eyes left his cut, muscled V-line, you winked at him and crawled backward on the bed, getting off his lap.
Jimin gave you a wolfish grin in return. “Hit me with your best shot, Miss,” he teased.
And you did.
Your hands immediately busied themselves in wrestling his underwear past his ass. He lifted himself up from the mattress to aid you in the process as you tugged at his jeans, tearing the piece of clothing down his legs as if it had personally offended you.
Jimin watched you in amusement while you hurriedly freed his legs off the jeans and then his boxers. His cock was rock hard, slapping his abdomen when it sprang free from the confines of his underwear. His tip was red, begging for attention, and it took everything in him to not grip himself and give a few satiating strokes. He had been doing that for months. Now that he had you sitting in front him, buck naked and eyeing his cock with yearning in your gaze, he wouldn’t miss any fraction of an opportunity to have your hands on him.
He gave a small chuckle when you grumbled between your struggles of freeing his ankles from his skinny jeans.
But then all humor was knocked out of him.
You didn’t wait for a single second, not even pausing to breathe before wrapping a palm around him and descending over him with your mouth open wide and wet. Your lips wrapped around his tip and you gave his cock a loud, wet, slurpy suction before licking off the precum slathered around the slit.
Jimin’s hips bucked off the bed, hands scrambling to find purchase in your hair and the bedsheets. “Holy shit, babe!”
You looked at him through your lashes, all sultry and luscious, and dipped your chest further down towards the bed.
Jimin slowly followed the lithe line of your spine, all the way up to—
Your ass was raised up as you knelt between his legs and your mouth-watering hips fell in his direct line of sight. The navy blue and black butterfly moved in tandem with your head, taunting him.
This was quite possibly the most erotic sight he’d ever seen in his entire life. Better than his imagination.
While he was still recovering from the visual of his dreams, you removed your hand from his cock, and using your tongue to spread his precum and your spit all over him, you opened your mouth to take him all in.
A choked cough escaped him when his tip hit the back of your throat.
“What—sweetheart, I—fuck,” he brokenly stuttered, confused between pleasure and concern, the hand in your hair trying to pull you off him. “Are you—ah, are you okay, babe?”
You moved your hand to squeeze at his thigh, and Jimin relaxed. You’d caught him off guard and so he wasn’t aware of how prepared you were. It would kill him if he accidentally hurt you.
But going by the way your lips were moving over his cock in a tight vacuum seal, you’d been more than prepared for him.
Your mouth bobbed up and down in quick, shallow strokes. Not every stroke hit the back of your throat, but you had your tongue flattened over the underside of him and were licking at the really sensitive vein that ran beneath his skin with your every move. Jimin dragged his other hand through the bed, abdominal muscles flexing and twitching with every jerk of your head.
“Fuck, baby, that’s so good. So warm, shit—”
He peeled open his involuntarily shut eyes with effort, looking down at the lewd sight of you.
Your cheeks were hollowed, and lips progressively growing a darker shade of red. Jimin belatedly recalled the lipstick you’d worn. Pride swelled in his chest on realising he’d probably wiped it all off with his own mouth.
“Look at you, fuck,” he grunted, chest heaving with short, quick breaths. “So fucking filthy. D’you know how often I have imagined this?”
The carnal sight of your lips stretching wide over him was nearly too much to handle. He sat up from his recline, one hand tightening in your hair and the other reaching across the span of your body to grope at your hips, squeezing the delicious flesh there before moving lower to give your plump ass a smack.
Your responding groan vibrated through his cock, and Jimin threw his head back with a muffled whine. “Shit, shit, shit—”
Your mouth slipped off him, hand coming to grip around his length. You swirled your tongue over his tip, rubbing it back and forth when his hips bucked, while your hand maintained a steady rhythm over the rest of him.
Jimin wheezed in heavy breaths, pulling his hand off your hip to shove his hair back from his sweaty forehead.
His grip on your hair tightened. “What a dirty fucking girl… fuck… you look so good like this, baby.”
You looked up at him through your lashes at his praise, and he nearly fucking came. Oh God, you were so sexy.
But you recognised the delirious look in his eyes because you removed your hand from his thigh to grab his free hand and put it in your hair. Jimin swallowed a gasp. How were you able to ignite every single nerve ending of his with every little action of yours?
Jimin combed the fingers of both his hands through your hair, twisting it into a makeshift ponytail and held that in one hand. He tapped at your cheek with the other. “Pat my thigh when you need to tap out, okay? Don’t go over your limit.”
You nodded around a mouthful of his cock, and Jimin really fucking lost it for a second there. Remembering himself, he gathered his bearings, and tugged at your hair. You detached your mouth with a gasping whine, a thread of his precum hanging off your swollen lower lip and connecting to his dick.
He moaned at the sight, thumb moving to swipe against your lip. You caught it in your mouth, flicking your tongue against it the way you did on his dick, and Jimin’s breath caught.
You were nearly too much to handle. Nearly.
“Speak up, pretty,” he grunted, roughly pulling his thumb off you, replacing his hand to hold your chin.
You blinked at him with big, muddled eyes. “Yes.”
“Yes what?” he implored. “Tell me you understand.”
“Yes, I understand.” You licked your lips, eyes falling back to his length. “Won’t go over my limit. Just… fuck, Jimin, fuck my throat. Please. Need you, wanna feel you.”
Jimin didn’t need another summoning. Swearing under his breath, he gripped your face with both his hands and raised himself to his knees. You got to your hands and knees before him, cheek nudging his slit.
Your eyes were nearly glazed over, and if Jimin sat back to ponder the fact that you looked so freaking intoxicated by the prospect of having him fuck your mouth, this would be over way too soon. He breathed in deeply, instead, raking his eyes over your prone form and reminding himself of the thorough fucking you deserved for being so fucking unbelieavably receptive.
Tucking his lower lip between his teeth, Jimin directed your mouth towards his cock with a hand, sliding himself in with a grip on your hair, and your lax throat took him right in.
“Oh my God, fuck!”
Any and all thoughts left his brain – the feeling of your throat constricting around him the only thing in his world.
“You feel so incredible, baby, fuck—”
He wanted to hold back, really truly did, but the way you were suppressing your gag reflex and presenting yourself to him with such abandon had him going feral. With a muted growl, Jimin pulled himself out, tapping his tip against your deep red lips before driving deep again.
Your throat convulsed on him, teasing eyes telling him you’d done it on purpose, and he sputtered, mouth salivating and eyes rolling back.
“You dirty fucking minx,” he hissed, tugging at your hair to get your eyes back on his. “If you lose your voice because I fucked your mouth too hard, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”
And then he was wild, ravenous, untamed – holding your face still as he rammed his length into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. Your scattered moans around him were making him lose his mind. He had no clue how long he would last like this, but he could not restrain himself.
He’d always had lengthy plans for you, if ever got you under him. All his fantasies comprised him tasting every single, supple inch of your body, bringing you so much pleasure that you passed out from his mouth alone and he had to wake you up to fuck you. But right now, it seemed like he was gonna nut down your throat and pass out himself before he got to dick you down.
That thought, and that thought alone, was what helped him grip onto his slipping control.
Slowing his tempo for a moment, Jimin clenched his abdomen, reeling his spiralling restraint back in before he thrust again, repeatedly meeting the back of your throat. Your mouth was so warm, oh God.
He could feel sweat accumulating over his brow, running down his back, gathering over his abs from exertion.
“So good to me, so fucking pretty,” he heaved between heavy breaths, feeling hs balls tighten when you hummed in response.
Three more thrusts and then Jimin paused, pulling your head away from him.
“Enough! Fuck, I don’t wanna come before I get inside of you.”
Your slacked jaw came off him, pupils completely blown out, no trace of your irises visible at first glance. Jimin sank back on his haunches, jerking you up to kneel with him.
Your eyes still hadn’t connected to his, chasing his length until your face started to descend again.
Your reddened lips, watery eyes and all the spit and precum dribbling down your chin was already too erotic of a sight for Jimin to resist. But the second he saw you trying to get your mouth back on his dick, he lost all semblances of lucidity.
“Fucking hell, come here, you—”
Jimin grabbed your whole face in his hands and closed his open mouth over your delicate lips. He tasted traces of himself on your tongue, salty and wholly unpleasant, but the obscene sight he just saw was painted on the back of his eyelids and he growled low in his throat before sucking on your lips harder.
He let go of you when your hand tapped against his chest.
“Need to… breathe…”
Jimin chuckled, letting go of you. “You okay, pretty?”
Your eyes were shut, palms resting on his thighs as your chest heaved. You swiped your hair over your shoulder, nodding.
Your eyes opened to connect straight with his, your palms moving up his thighs. “I wanna ride you.” You licked your lips when he raised an eyebrow. “Please? Will you – will you let me ride you?”
Jimin swallowed, breath faltering. What a fucking sex goddess. And how good at learning and retaining instructions.
Inwardly, he wanted to moan out a depraved agreement and let you ride him into eternity, because God knew he would spontaneously combust if he wasn’t inside of you soon. But he also needed to pound you into your bed really bad. So on the outside, he looked at you with his head tilted back and thighs spread, deciding to entertain you for a while.
Taking in his inviting stance, you didn’t waste time climbing into his lap. He licked a path up the soft, delicious skin of your throat while you wound your arms around his shoulders. His palms flattened over your thighs, fingers digging into your delectable flesh.
“These thighs have been ruining my nights ever since I saw them,” he breathed into your neck, lips ghosting over the side of it. “Couldn’t sleep because the thoughts of having them wrap around my waist won’t fucking leave me.”
He relished the tremble that overcame your body, and moved his hand to palm your ass. His gaze dropped to your hips where multiple red spots had started to bloom as a result of his feasting. God, he needed a picture of this.
“And these hips.” He hissed out a breath. “Look at how pretty they look all marked up.”
Said hips undulated over his thigh, coating his skin with your arousal. Your own thigh made contact with his stiff length and he groaned. Jimin ground his teeth together, hips jerking upwards to engage in more friction.
A loud moan left you, head rolling back over your shoulders. Jimin didn’t waste a single second before catching one of your nipples in his mouth, grip tightening on your thighs. Your moan bled out into a breathy whimper, and Jimin sucked harder, pulling you down on himself harsher.
“Stop,” you breathed out, a shaky hand coming up to rest over his chest. “Get—get inside me already, God, please, Jimin! I need you in me so bad.”
Jimin pulled you up in a flash, teeth nibbling his own lower lip as he nudged your nose with his own. Staring deep into your eyes that were thickly layered with arousal, he slowly shook his head. Your eyebrows dipped in confusion. He licked at your lower lip, holding you tighter when you shivered.
“You can have your fun riding me, later, sweetness,” he told you, voice coming out breathless and scratchy. “Right now, I really need to fuck you into this bed, really hard.”
He winked at your dropped jaw before grasping you by your waist and flipping the two of you over. He absorbed your gasp of surprise in his mouth, taking you into a bruising kiss. His hands moved to clutch at you, one at the waist and the other gripping your thigh as he situated himself between your legs. He sucked your tongue into his mouth, grabbing your tit when your back arched up to him.
His length was hard and angry and even a feathery brush against your thigh had him groaning into your mouth.
Separating from your ambrosiac lips, he brought a hand up to cup your face. “Condoms. D’you have condoms, sweetheart?”
You blinked up at him, nodding as you pointed to your right.
“Still no words, huh?” Jimin mumbled in admonition even as he turned his head to follow the general direction to your nightstand.
Immediately leaning over, he pulled at the drawer and reached in. His fingers brushed against a couple of tiny packages, and he plucked one out.
“Handy, huh,” he remarked, raising a suggestive eyebrow at you, relishing the way your cheeks pinked.
He dropped the packet on your chest.
He smirked when you gulped, running a finger down the line of your throat, all the way down to your sternum, in the middle of the soft mounds of your breasts.
Looking into his eyes, you took the packet up to your lips and bit into a corner. Jimin sucked in a sharp breath when you tore it open with your teeth, the harsh foil pressing into your lips and skewing them crudely.
You rolled the condom on him with smooth swipes of your fingers over his length, and Jimin held back a shudder when you pumped him twice after you were done.
“There,” you breathed, breath audibly hitching when Jimin pressed a kiss to your shoulder.
His eyes connected with yours, one hand wrapping around your right thigh to tug it over his waist, and the other brushing over your center. He hissed when his fingers came in contact with your slick.
“You’re soaking wet, pretty baby.” His voice came out hoarse and lower than his usual pitch.
He dipped his fingers in to ensure you really were properly aroused, and he had to bite back a groan when you clenched over his digits.
“Such a greedy baby. Gripping my fingers even when she’s about to get my dick,” he sneered, pulling his finger out harshly and rubbing your wetness over his length. “Look at me when I fuck you, okay?”
“Y—es, okay.” You bit your lip, shaking underneath him. “Need you, Jimin. So so bad. Please – just, plea—oh!”
You cut off in a gasp when Jimin aligned himself with your entrance, pushing into you slowly. He looked up to find your eyes shut.
“I asked you to look at me!” he growled, glaring at you when your eyes opened. “Eyes. On me. The entire time. Understand?”
You dumbly nodded, and he brought up his hand wet with your arousal to grip at your jaw.
“How many times,” he hissed, “do I have to remind you to speak the fuck up?”
With that, he slid into you in one strong, smooth motion, bottoming out through your slippery channel. You both groaned together, and Jimin’s head fell onto your clavicle. He drew his hips back and thrust back in, shallowly.
“God, you fit me like a fucking glove, baby.”
Pressing kisses into your collarbones, he bit down when you still just moaned in response.
“I still don’t hear your words,” he grunted against your throat.
And yet, all he got from you were little gasps, in time with his slowly moving hips. The hand supporting your thigh separated from your skin, only to reconnect with a resounding slap.
You jumped, moaning with your mouth open. “I—I’m sorry – fuck – I’m sorry, Jimin, it just feels so good, baby—ah! I… I under—ah! I understand! I’ll look at you…”
He lifted himself up on his forearms to check whether you really did, and hummed in satisfaction to find your eyes on him.
“Now, was that so difficult?”
He rose to his knees, cradling both your legs around his waist as he drew back and thrust in again. Your warmth enveloped him so well, he had to clamp up all his muscles to maintain his composure.
“How are you so fucking tight, sweetheart, fuck. Squeezing me so fucking good when I just fucked you open with my fingers,” he groaned, driving his hips against yours.
Your heavenly thighs framing him was literally a dream come true and he found himself groaning at the sight of your flesh pressed up against his. Your breasts swayed in time with his thrusts, tempting him to take them into his mouth. So he did, prompting you to lock your ankles at the small of his back as he grabbed at your tits.
A lewd moan tore through your chest. “Fuck! Yes!”
Jimin picked up pace, gleaming eyes stuck on the tantalizing way your soft flesh bulges through his fingers.
"What a fucking sight, baby, fuck."
He removed one hand to press it down over your chest, looking into your barely open eyes. He snapped his hips against yours harder, grinding them when he was balls deep, and you stuttered out a broken rendition of his name.
Jimin's gaze went up to your arms that you'd crossed above your head, away and out of the way.
"What an obedient little baby, ugh," he grunted, leaning over you to lock an appreciative palm over your wrists. "Definitely deserving of a reward for this."
Your breathing grew heavier, gasps melting into little whines at the end.
Jimin licked at your nipple with the flat of his tongue, rolling it over the areola before moving up to suck bruises into your neck.
"Jimin, I—ah! Tha–thank you!" you sobbed.
He hadn't really been expecting you to respond this time, given how delirious you looked, but appreciated it all the same. Appreciated it way too much, in fact because he felt himself throb inside of you.
The hand he’d pressed down on your chest slipped over your collarbones, moving up. It wrapped around the base of your neck, his fingers and thumb pressing into either side as he squeezed a little. Your eyes widened, slowly, irises thinning even further with more arousal bleeding into your orbs.
“You like that?” he rasped, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and grinding his pelvis against your clit.
Your lashes nearly fluttered, but you fought against shutting your eyes and never broke eye contact. “Y–yes, Jimin, it’s s–s–so goo—”
You sputtered into a muted groan under the suddenly increased pressure of Jimin’s fingers. He gripped your thigh firmly with his other hand, pushing it up against your chest and leaning over you to pound into you at a deeper angle.
Your eyes rolled back into your head, hands gripping onto the headboard. “Ji—min, fuck, fuck, fff—ungh!”
Jimin’s hand tightened over your throat, now cutting off some of your air supply and speech abilities. Your muted groans, incoherent yells, his own breathy pants and the wet, smacking sounds of skin slapping against skin filled your room.
He reached up to grip at the headrest, hand closing over one of your own, and fucked you harder, shaking the bed dangerously under the two of you. Your entire body shifted against the mattress with the force of his thrusts, your little shrieks and yelps coordinating with his movements.
Your gaze was completely unfocussed. Jimin could tell you weren’t actually looking at him even when your eyes stayed on his face. But he was looking at you. Oh, God, he was definitely looking. And saving every single inch of your gloriously fucked out self to his memory to revisit for the rest of his fucking life. He wished he could save the way you felt around him to his memory, too, because God knew he’d never felt anything like this before.
He told you as much, grips tightening over your hand around the headboard bar and your throat. You eagerly nodded back, whether in reciprocation to his sentiment or to egg him on, he didn’t know. But he went harder all the same, pulling your other leg over his shoulder, too.
“Min!” you suddenly gasped nearly unintelligibly. His eyebrows furrowed. “I–I’m—”
“Are you close, pretty?” Jimin asked, dropping a wet kiss against your lips when you nodded. “You wanna come, sweetheart?”
You eagerly nodded again, trying to say something else but making zero sense. Jimin choked you harder, making it impossible for you to even try to speak.
His eyes dropped to the place you were joined at, and he watched, transfixed, as your sopping cunt repeatedly swallowed his length. He groaned. “You’re taking me so amazingly, baby, fuck. This tiny pussy spreads so well for me…”
He let go of your throat to reach between your bodies to place his thumb on your clit, a giggle escaping him when it slipped.
“You’re so fucking wet, baby, shit. Can’t even touch you properly…”
He brought his index finger together with his thumb to pinch at your clit.
“Ahhh! Fu~ck! Jimin!”
He smirked at your rough yelps, immediately grumbling a curse when you clenched around him. “You’re so responsive, baby, shit. What an amazing girl. So good to me.”
Your eyelids fluttered at his praise, hips moving against him to meet him thrust for thrust.
“Yeah? You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”
You nodded, eyes slitted, but still fixed on him. “Ye–ye—ngh—yes—”
“You’re such a good girl, pretty,” he cooed, letting go of the headboard to grab one of your thighs for leverage, hips pistoning into you at an unforgivable pace. “Deserve to be,” he panted, “fucked so good, you—” he broke off, catching his breath “—you pass out, sweet baby…”
A high pitched moan tore through your chest, knuckles turning white in your tight grip at the headboard, and Jimin massaged your clit with two fingers.
“Come for me, baby. Squeeze my cock, cream all over it, fuck, come on, pretty,” he grumbled, biting his lip at the visual, and ran his nose along the line of your throat.
Your breath was coming in gasps and hiccups and Jimin could feel you gripping his length harder. He breathed out against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste you before rising up again to look into your feverish eyes. Your nose flared with every broken inhale and breasts pushed up against his chest with every frantic jolt of your body against the headboard.
Jimin could die like this with zero complaints.
“Oh—oh, I’m gonna—Chim, baby, I’m–I’m gonna come, I—”
Your eyes finally broke contact with him, abruptly clenching shut. Your back arched and body froze for a second, and then your walls clenched him so fucking tight and you—
“Jimin, holy fu~ck-k-k-k!”
“Shit shit, you’re so tight, baby, you’ll make me—”
Your pussy spasmed around him, tightening like a vice before easing until it tightened again, and it was all Jimin could do to not profess his undying love to your cunt.
You screamed, stuttering through your words, barely even sounding like yourself, and Jimin continued to furiously drive his cock into you, his tip meeting a spot deep within you and pulling him closer and closer to his own release. Jimin watched with a gaping mouth as you fell back against the bed, his restraint fully undone.
Your eyes opened to meet his own, and arms lowered from their position. Jimin let your thighs off his shoulders, to wrap them around his waist. You hummed, face relaxed and limbs loose. Jimin dipped his head to devour your lips, letting go with a resounding smack when breathing became a trouble.
“Can I touch you?” you then murmured, voice hoarse and worn out, and he felt himself throb a little harder at the knowledge that he’d done this to you.
“Yes—ah, fuck—yes, sweetheart. Yes, you can touch me."
You shakily lowered your palms to his pectoral muscles, and Jimin hissed at the touch of your cold hands against his heated flesh. Your fingers fluttered over his nipples, the softness you eluded in contrast with the ruthless pace he was going at inside you. Jimin grunted when you scraped a nail over one of them. Then you suddenly pinched both of them between your finger and thumb and twisted at the same time, and a groan of pleasure was pulled out of him in between his gasps of exertion.
You were exhausted, though, and so your hands quickly left his chest to wrap around his torso, arms looping beneath his upper arms to grab onto his shoulders. Your lashes fluttered up at him, parted lips shiny with spit now quirking in an open mouthed smirk just as you dug your nails in, and fucking raked them down his back.
"Fu~ck, oh my God!" Jimin gasped loudly, eyes widening at your mischievous expressions.
He was gonna fucking explode without preamble. Letting you touch him was a bad idea.
One of your hands situated itself on the small of his back and the other reached up to wrap around the base of his neck. All your nails scratched at his damp skin, your eyes sparkling when Jimin’s hips faltered in their movement in response.
“You like that, baby?” you whispered in a husk, ankles locking behind his back to pull him further in, and Jimin toppled on top of you with an oomph, chest meshing into your breasts and face falling onto the bed, next to yours.
He growled, scowling when your giggles trickled into his ear.
"You fucking tease, you’re—"
He pulled out of you, and dropping both your legs off his waist, gripped your hands in one of his to tug them up. Grabbing you by your waist, he rose to his knees again and flipped you over beneath him, your yelp of surprise muffled by the pillow your face sank in.
He let go of your hands and waist, sat back on his haunches, and placed both his palms on the gorgeously delicious flare of your hips to drag your ass up. In a second, he slid home, hitting you even deeper at this angle.
The two of you moaned, and Jimin gripped your hips tight to begin a brutal pace, pounding into your weeping cunt with renewed vigour.
Your shout was followed by you stumbling to rise on your palms, failing and landing on your elbows. He laughed menacingly, smirking at your breathless moans.
“Yes, pretty, hold yourself up like that. My pretty girl… So hardworking, so good. Yeah.”
“Yes… yes, oh my God, Jimin—ie,” you moaned, turning your face to the side so that he could see your gaping mouth, “love it, baby—”
"Yeah, baby," he panted, feeling himself lose coherence at the overwhelming carnality of this position, "I love it, too."
And he did.
The erotic sight before him was straight out of his wildest fantasies.
Your hips, those delicious hips he'd fallen in love with, unknowingly, were held tight in his grasp. Your thighs framed his own, meeting him with lewd slaps with every thrust. The butterfly tattoo between the dimples above your ass seemed to flap its wings with every roll of your ass over his dick, and Jimin had to bite back a moan at the sight of your ass cheeks jiggling with the same motion.
He delivered a smack on one, palming the tender flesh immediately. You shouted his name, head stretched far back and back arching.
Jimin cursed under his breath, letting go of your ass to wind his arms around you. He gripped at your breast, rolling a nipple under his thumb until you mewled in protest, and then slid his palm down your stomach to run his fingers around your stuffed pussy.
“Gonna come for me again?”
You violently shook your head. “No! No, Chim, I can’t, I’m—I’m too sensiti—ah!”
Jimin twirled a finger around your swollen clit, licking his lips. “Yes, you can, pretty, and you will.”
His finger worked in rhythm with his cock, slipping over your sensitive nub just as his balls slapped against your pussy.
“Jimin, too much…” you groaned, elbows giving out.
“Shh, just a little more. My pretty baby will give me another one.”
He wrapped an arm around your hips to hold you up, dipping to plant a kiss between your shoulder blades. Soon enough, your groans of protest were turning into gasps of pleasure. Jimin chuckled against your shoulder, licking a path up the back of your neck.
“Does it feel good now, baby?”
You nodded against your pillow. “So good!”
Jimin fucked into you with renewed conviction, ignoring the cramping in his forearm as he rubbed your clit, this time chasing his own high that he could feel hovering close by.
And then your walls were fluttering around him for the second time just as you sobbed curses into your mattress. Jimin’s brain went haywire at the sensations, hand falling off your clit to grip at your shoulder, his chest pressing up against your back.
“Baby,” he groaned into your neck, “I’m gonna come.”
Your breath hitched, hips making some sorry efforts to push back against him, but the coil beneath his navel tightened all the same. Topped by the sensation of your still spasming cunt, Jimin’s head swam, eyes clenching shut as the coil grew taut with tension and then—
“Fuck fuck fuck, baby, fuuuu~ck—”
The tension in his abdomen snapped, every single nerve ending in his body lighting up as he came, literally exploding with a shout of your name. Tremors overtook his body and his cock twitched, ropes of his release filling up the condom just as his brain blanked out, all sensations leaving him in the wake of the overwhelming ecstasy of his orgasm. White noise filling his ears, he collapsed on top of your body when his knees gave out.
Heavy breathing filled the room for extended minutes.
And then you coughed beneath him, an elbow nudging at his ribs.
“Chim… heavy… can’t breathe…”
He floated back to the world of living with lazy blinks of his eyes, belatedly chuckling when your words registered in his brain. With a heavy sigh, he pulled his softening dick out of you and heaved himself off you to fall on his back on the bed, next to you. His hands still lifeless, he made an effort to roll the condom off himself and tie it up. He peered over the edge of the bed to look for a dustbin, extending an arm to toss the soiled condom in it when he spotted it under your bed.
Once he had comfortably situated himself back in his lying position, he gazed at your nearly lifeless form. You were still lying on your stomach with your head turned towards him, your eyes closed and mouth parted. Jimin could tell you weren’t asleep though, despite the soft rising and falling of your back.
The reality of the situation suddenly hit him like a truck.
He fucked you.
He fucked you – his crush of over a year, the muse of his every lustful pining, the lead actress of his every sexual fantasy, his roommate, and, as of late, also the other girl he had started to lust over.
He fucked you – and you let him. Enjoyed yourself quite a bit too, as far as he could tell.
He finally fulfilled his dream of over a year, holy shit, and it was so fucking good! Better than his expectations!
You suddenly cleared your throat, and Jimin blinked away his mental fistpump.
Your eyes were now open and trained on him. He couldn’t help his answering smirk, rolling onto his side to face you, a hand coming up to rest on the curve of your hips that he had finally had the opportunity to claim. Your cheeks reddened at his action, and his smirk widened a bit.
“So…” he began, biting down on his bottom lip.
He laughed at how awkward you were being.
“So that was fucking fantastic, sweetheart, you’re a sex goddess,” he finished with a roll of his eyes, still chuckling when you scrunched your nose up.
“It most certainly was, Chim,” you mumbled, humming with a smile.
You slowly turned over your side, too, to face him properly. His eyes automatically fell to the globes of your breasts, his smile turning sheepish when you flicked his forehead.
“And you’re a sex god yourself, if we’re really gonna get into it.”
Jimin just smiled at you, too sated and comfortable to stir up anymore conversation, content by just watching the post-orgasmic flush on your face.
You cleared your throat again, gazing away from him. Jimin laughed.
“You can look at me, I don’t mind.”
You snorted. “Of course you don’t, you cocky bastard.”
Jimin quirked an eyebrow when you met his eyes again. “Well, I sure am cocky, ain’t I?”
You gasped in outrage, smacking a palm against his chest which he caught in his own to hold in place. Your face turned serious, gaze dropping to his lips, and he sidled closer to you to brush his nose against yours.
“Chim,” you breathed, rubbing your lips against his, and he responded with a stuttered hum. “Can we… um. Are we gonna do this again?”
He reared away from you in surprise. “Uh…”
Your face fell, eyebrows furrowing, and you sat up, turning away from him. “I—I was just, um… offering? I guess? We totally don’t have to, I—”
Jimiin cut you off with an arm curled around your abdomen. “Come here, you idiot.”
You turned to look at him with wide eyes, and he sat up to face you, sliding close enough to press his chest against your side, consciously not letting his eyes stray beneath your face.
“I was taken aback because I assumed that this would be a regular thing, by default, babe,” he honestly confessed. “I mean, I'm gonna admit… I’ve slept around a lot. More than I should’ve, probably. But the fire you light in me? Yeah, I’ve never felt that before. And now that I have felt it up close, I wanna feel more of it.”
You were shyly biting down on your bottom lip by the time he finished talking, and Jimin couldn’t fathom how you changed into this irresistibly demure girl under his praise when you were a sassy, sexually over-expressive individual on the normal. Not to say he minded, because he liked it. A lot.
“And I’ve kinda wanted to do this with you for a while now, please don’t kill me,” he admitted in a single breath, looking at you with apprehension until your wide eyes reassured him that you weren’t offended.
“I kinda figured that one out already. You talked about having imagined a lot,” you reminded him, and he gave you an unabashed shrug, somewhat surprised you’d retained his passionate confessions.
But then you had him freezing.
“And you’re good, Park. I’d be a hypocrite to kill you when it’s been kinda the same for me,” you said with a casual shrug of your shoulders. “Minus, of course, the sleeping around more than I shou—”
“Wait, wait – what?”
You blinked. “What?”
“You said it’s the same for you—what?”
You squinted at him, huffing out a small, incredulous chuckle. “You seriously don’t have a clue, do you?”
Jimin squinted back. “Clue? About what?”
You looked at him with a torn expression slowly spreading over your face. “I didn’t really plan on bringing this up directly. Ever, if it didn’t come to it. But… guess you’re more oblivious than I thought.”
Jimin thickly swallowed, kind of able to guess where you were headed with this and unable to believe it was happening.
“Well… I had this gigantic crush on you when I moved in,” you mumbled, pulling both your lips into your mouth.
Jimin stopped breathing. You really—?
You winced. “I know, I know, it was horrible. But, come on, Park. You’ve looked in a mirror. You know you’re a fucking catch. The first few weeks with you were torture. I’d seen you shirtless a couple of times, and… my mind wasn’t ready to forget that.”
Jimin was sure he was dreaming, at this point. The mindblowing sex had really been a fever dream. He subtly pitched himself, jolting when it hurt.
No, he wasn’t dreaming.
Fuck. Fuck yes! What the fuck?
“Why didn’t you ever say anything, babe?” he mumbled, sounding breathy even to his own ears.
“I – I tried to give you subtle signs, planning to come on to you when I was sure you were reciprocating. Because, as I got to know you, I realized that the attraction wasn’t worth sacrificing our friendship for, and so I didn’t approach you directly.”
Jimin sucked in a harsh breath, shocked at how perfectly your side of the story aligned with his.
“Well, obviously your subtle hints were way too subtle,” he murmured, a little annoyed at fate.
You shot him a glare. “Jimin. Are you serious? I gave up the sorority to live with you!”
Jimin gaped at you, caging you in his arms to put his face next to yours. He narrowed his eyes. “No. You got rejected because you failed an exam and—”
“Oh, my God, Chim! Are you really that naive?” You rolled your eyes with a self-conscious laugh, but something akin to adoration shone on your face. “All those eligibility rules are just on paper! Srats and frats don’t actually reject people that harshly.” You brushed a kiss against his lips, and his breath stuttered. “Besides, I didn’t actually fail that exam, Park.”
Jimin pulled back from you with a loud gasp. “What? Oh, my God—babe! How the hell was I supposed to figure that one out?”
You gave him a sheepish smile. “Yeah, alright, that was a tough one. But what about all those tales of my escapades I forced you to listen to? Did you think I was some sort of a closet exhibitionist or something?”
Jimin’s cheeks warmed. He sat back again, shrugging a shoulder. “Well, I don’t kink shame.”
You laughed aloud at that, shaking your head. “I just kept hoping, day after day, for that one fine moment when your resolve would weaken and you’d react. Maybe pull me in for a kiss? Or, at the very least, show me a sign that you were bothered by those talks? But no! You just sat back like a darn wingman, and never showed any interest. The only crack I saw was last night, and even then you didn’t revolt over me talking about sucking a random guy’s dick! You didn’t even try to ask who the guy was!”
Jimin shook his head. “It was very difficult, on all occasions but especially last night, I assure you. But I didn’t wanna come off as a pervert and have you run out of the house.”
“That would never have happened.” You bit your lip. “Gosh. We could’ve really been doing this a year ago!”
“Damn. That’s a lot of wasted time, shit.” Jimin exhaled, still reeling. It suddenly came back to him. “Was the Taehyung thing meant to rile me up, too, or…?”
Guilt spread on your face, cheeks flushing. You shook your head and Jimin gaped at you.
“That was pretty real, I’m afraid. I—hey, don’t give me that look! I was pretty frustrated, okay? You weren’t budging from being a good friend, I was getting kinda desperate here.”
Jimin still scowled at you. “You sent him nudes, ma’am. The biggest fuckboy on the entire campus has your nudes. And he obviously doesn’t have any qualms sharing them with people; exhibit a – me.”
You worried your bottom lip with your teeth. “Well, they don’t have my face, so…”
“And thank God for that! Or I’d have to hack into the fucker’s phone to burn them out of existence!”
A teasing smile crawled up your face. “Look at you getting all protective and shit after having sex once, huh?”
Jimin stiffened, worried he’d overstepped. Your eyes widened, too, and you hurried to shake your head.
“Not – not in that sense! I’m not proposing a relationship—” You cut yourself off with a wince. “I mean, not yet—” You cut yourself off again when his eyes widened, before giving up. “You know what? I’m just gonna shut up.”
Jimin shook with silent laughter. You huffed, petulantly, grabbing your t-shirt from the edge of the bed to toss it over your body.
“Hey, listen,” Jimin called out, pulling both your hands in his, “let me help you sort things out?” At your timid nod, he smiled. “I liked what we did. A lot. And I’d like to do more of it. A lot more of it. We good so far?”
You chuckled, looking away from him. “Yes.”
“Great. Next, I think it’s too soon to be jumping into a relationship. But I may be open to it in future,” he tentatively continued, eyes stuck to yours.
You exhaled at his words, face flooding with what looked like relief. You gave him a nod. “Yes. Yes, that. Exactly that.”
“So, we’re on the same page then?”
“The same sentence, too.”
Jimin felt his own inhibitions lower at your enthusiastic tug at his hands. This didn’t feel awkward, at all. This felt good.
So good. Wow.
Your gaze dropped to his crotch, surprising him. But instead of feeling self-conscious, he felt like teasing you.
He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “The same sentence, you say? Is it, perhaps, a question that begins with ‘what about’ and ends with ‘a second round’?”
Your cheeks puffed out in an attempt to contain your laughter. “It does, as a matter of fact. Followed by an all-caps ‘yes’, and an asterixed clause saying ‘I get to be on top, this time’.”
Jimin broke down into fits of uncontrollable laughter, falling into your lap, and you followed suit, tilting to a side on the bed.
God. You were the same level of crack-headed as him. This was gonna go so well, fuck. He couldn’t wait.
Jimin glanced at the clock on your nightstand when you were both sufficiently calmed, turning to grin at you. “It’s been over an hour since you were due for your video call. Taehyung must be losing his mind.”
Your brows arched in surprise. “Oh, I completely forgot about that!”
Jimin licked his lips, pulling you over his lap. “Uh huh. That’s really good to know.”
You eyed his lips. “I’m just gonna block him. He won’t even miss me. Bet he’ll get over it in a day.”
“I support that action.”
Going by the way he’d drooled over you, it might take the guy longer than a day. But Jimin was positive it won’t be longer than a week.
“So, about that asterixed clause,” Jimin began in a murmur, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
“Yes?” you responded with your eyes gleaming in excitement.
Jimin bit his lip. “I support that action, too.”
With a squeal, you rushed to pull your t-shirt off, and Jimin would’ve laughed at your enthusiasm if he wasn’t moaning at the sight of your sexy body that he really couldn’t get enough of.
The next time Jimin saw Taehyung was for the psych class on Monday.
True to character, he was already drooling over someone else. And dude was so lost exploring the slew of nudes he received to pick out a candidate to spend the night with, that he didn't even notice Jimin’s own barely concealed groans as he looked at the Snaps you’d sent him.
“Park, man, I think I’m in love.”
Jimin blinked away from the picture of your pussy glimpsing past the new thong you’d bought, with a ‘what sentence we on today?’ written over it, and hurriedly locked his phone. Taehyung was longingly staring at his own phone screen when he turned to face the guy.
Taehyung clicked his tongue. “Gosh, man, that fucking ass—ugh!”
Jimin rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re in love with her ass?”
“His. His ass. Says his name’s Yeon Kimin. Weird, but I ain’t tryna marry him. But dude, those pasty fucking globes—oh my God…”
Jimin smoothly tuned the guy’s lustful musings out to focus on his phone. Unlocking it, he discreetly placed it beneath the table to open Snapchat and click a picture of himself with his lower lip tucked between his teeth and an eyebrow raised. He quickly typed a ‘we replacing that thong with these lips, obv’ over it and hit send.
You typed back a response, this time, a blue bubble appearing in his notifications.
not just a roomie👅
storage room behind the photo studio in ten
Save the begging for later, sweetheart ;)
Meet you in 5
Jimin locked his phone and picked up his bag to slink out of the classroom, smirking at Taehyung’s raised eyebrows. The guy sent back a dirtier smirk, mouthing ‘get it, soldier’ with a wink and a thumbs up.
God, what a guy.
Jimin ran out with a skip in his steps, full of excitement and energy, now that his nights were actually full of sleep and not visions of you. They didn’t have to be, when his days were already full of the real you, did they?
I don't wanna take you nowhere;
I don't wanna waste your time.
Baby girl, won't you come my way?
Baby girl, won't you come for me~
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