⇾ taste the party (m)
⇁ Jimin x female!reader ft. Jeon
⇁ smut, idol!au, canonverse
⇁ established relationship, jealousy but nothing major, brief talks of body image, orgasm denial as punishment, public play, light humiliation, lowkey hyung kink, nipple play, derogatory language during sex, cum? everywhere?, threesome involving a dom jimin and whiny sub jk :(
⇁ 12.7k
:: post-bbma. your boyfriend catches you watching that part of their performance. on loop. you should be feeling apologetic but - well. it’s not your fault jungkook has a nice chest. you’re just showing your appreciation as one should ^^
↳ or; jimin doesn’t let your blatant ogling slide, determined to teach you a lesson. and jungkook? he’s just caught in the crossfire. not that he’s complaining.
.
A look of deep concentration furrows your brows as the video absorbs all of your attention. You’re so preoccupied by the sight in front of you that you barely hear the sound of a throat being cleared.
Startled, your phone slips from your hold, only to land on your face with a thud. A groan slips from your lips, your mouth twitching in discomfort as you feel your face throb.
You prod at the sensitive skin near your eye and try to assess the damage, hoping that no bruise will form. The twinge distracts you from noticing the figure standing near the doorway. Slightly disoriented, it takes a moment for you to find your bearings, but the weight of his stare finally reminds you of his presence.
Jimin’s handsome face greets you when you sit up from your lounging position on the couch, his mask pulled down to reveal features free of his usual layer of makeup. He leans against the frame of the door, head tilted to the side as he observes you in silence.
You rub the back of your neck, sheepish. How long has he been standing there? He could have said something sooner instead of staring at you like the second coming of Edward Cullen. Moments like these make it hard to understand him. What exactly is so interesting about watching y— shit.
The three second loop of their recent Billboard Music Award’s performance is still blasting from the device clutched in your hand. Although you scramble to shut it off, you know you’ve given him plenty enough time to recognize the song playing. Not only that, but you’re certain that he can easily identify the exact part you’ve been watching religiously for the past five minutes.
“Back so soon?”
The attempt at small talk is weak at best and you’re foolish if you think it’ll work.
Jimin’s not one to be easily distracted; he squints his eyes, his gaze flitting from your guilty expression to the phone still enclosed in your fist.
“Really?” asks Jimin, unimpressed.
Your cheeks burn. Still - you fight through the embarrassment. “I was just surfing the web, okay? I like to keep up with the current state of affairs.”
He blinks, feigning surprise. “Oh? You must be very interested in the news... When I found you, your nose was pressed up against the screen of your phone.”
“I’m half-blind. My eyes aren’t what they used to be.” You bite the inside of your cheek, refusing to flinch in embarrassment - you still have some pride left, after all.
“____.” The way he utters your name makes you wary. You can’t tell if he’s truly bothered by the turn of events or if he’s fucking with you. “I had time to put the cat food away, go to the bathroom and wash my hands... Are Jungkook’s abs that riveting?”
“No,” you deny at once.
He folds his arms across his chest and narrows his eyes, taking a moment to consider you. When his silence drags on for longer than you’re comfortable with, you begin to squirm like a fish caught in a fisherman’s net. Words spill out of your mouth before you can prevent them for flooding out.
“Okay... Well, I mean, they’re not bad, right? There are worse things to look at,” you allow, begrudgingly, a wince marring your face. It feels like the admittance has taken off five years from your lifespan.
You’ve always teased Jungkook for being such a baby. The gap between his off-stage personality and the charismatic performance has always surprised you... But this? Their most recent stage has thrown you for a loop and you’re still refusing to accept reality, knee-deep in denial.
“But it’s not like I willingly looked for it! It just happened to- they’re everywhere, you know? On Twitter, Tumblr... Even YouTube started recommending me his videos to watch! It was just-” You gesture into the air to further illustrate your point. “There. And I, uh, wanted to know what all the fuss was about. I was looking because... Because I wanted to educate myself. But it didn’t live up the hype at all. No matter how many times I looked, I couldn’t understand what was so great about them...”
Jimin’s expression remains unchanging. He lets you babble, his brown eyes betraying nothing. Your voice eventually dies down to a mumble, unsure if your speech is making matters worse. It’s hard to know with him; most people you know have expressive eyes that reveal their thoughts, but Jimin’s poker face is truly unrivaled. Unless you’ve royally fucked up, you never know how close he is to snapping and taking you over his knee.
And that’s what makes it fun; you like pushing him, if only to elicit a reaction from him. You both enjoy the push and pull. Most of the time you willingly walk into your punishments, or goad him with remarks just to rile him up (“You really think I can feel anything when your hands are that small?”). The payoff is always worth it.
But the thing is —
This time, you hadn’t willingly gone out of your way to provoke him. It had been...an accident, of sorts. You hadn’t meant to stumble across the video in question or watch it for as long as you had. It had just happened.
You want to plead your innocence but judging by Jimin’s expression, any explanation will most likely fall on deaf ears.
How are you supposed to make him understand that the real culprit is Jeon Jungkook and his fucking abs?
A surge of outrage and indignation rises from deep within you. Fucking Jeon Jungkook. How dare he? How is that even allowed? Don’t broadcasting regulations exist to prevent such acts of indecency? And just who the hell does he think he is, pulling his shirt up to the fucking nipple?
Your brows crease as the sinful images flash through your mind once more. When the hell did his stomach get so defined? His penchant for exercise should have clued you in, but you still hadn’t expected them to look like...that. It feels like your entire life has been a lie.
To think that he’s been hiding them all this time... Just what the hell is he?!
You feel another mental breakdown coming, fueled by pictures of his chest you can’t seem to erase no matter how hard you try. They’re ingrained, tattooed to the back of your eyelids. Every damn time you blink, you see the stupid shirt life, the expression painting his fac—
“Are you seriously thinking of him right now?” Jimin cuts in, his accusing tone yanking you out of your reverie.
“No!”
But your denial comes out too forcefully, too quickly. It’s a miracle that you manage not to stammer in your haste to respond.
Jimin quirks up an eyebrow, “...Is that so?”
You can’t tell if he’s playing with you right now, but you quickly nod in affirmation, determined not to waver under his probing stare. Maintaining eye contact is a feat you barely manage, the intensity behind his gaze enough to bring a lesser woman to her knees. It feels like his stare is stripping you down, layer by layer.
Deep down, you know that he can see through your pretenses, just like he always has. He’s always had the ability to make you feel naked, your innermost thoughts on display for him to read like an open book.
That’s why it takes you by surprise when he finally breaks eye contact, unfolding his arms with a noncommittal hum. He spins around on his heels without bothering to take a second look at you.
Instead of the wild couch sex you half anticipated, he announces, “Are you hungry? I stopped by earlier to get the soy sauce we’re running low on. We should start cooking now if we want to eat before it gets too late.”
You blink, confusion keeping you rooted to the spot. A voice in the back of your head whispers that this feels too good to be true... It’s not in his nature to be this forgiving. After all, he’s never let you off the hook this easily before.
Worried that you’ve actually offended or angered him, you follow him to the kitchen, an apology balanced on the tip of your tongue. Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you stand there awkwardly as he takes out various pots and pans from the wooden cabinet and sets them on the counter.
Contrary to your expectations, Jimin seems unruffled. Deceptively composed.
If Jimin notices your uneasy demeanor, he doesn’t comment on it. “Help me chop these up, will you?”
He hands you the green onions and a red bell pepper. Dutifully, you take the ingredients and wash them off under cold running water before placing them down on the cutting board.
When the silence becomes too stifling, you speak up, “When do you have to leave tomorrow?”
“Four-thirty. Gotta be up early for hair and makeup.” He turns on the stove. Even from where you’re standing, you can see the fatigue radiating off his body. “Sorry... I wish we didn’t have to see each other like this.”
His eyes flit to the clock hanging on the wall. You don’t need to follow his gaze to know that it’s late; several hours have passed since the sun has set, the city now shrouded in darkness.
“Don’t apologize. It’s a busy time of the year.” You have nothing to complain about. Sure - it would be a welcome surprise if he could spend more time by your side, but you’re content with the way it is now. Maybe that’s why you’ve lasted for so long when so many celebrity relationships deteriorate over time. Only a mutual understanding and a certain amount of trust keeps the relationship working despite all of the hurdles.
“I wanted to say it.” He says softly as he drizzles olive oil onto the sizzling pan. “I feel like we haven’t spent much time together lately.”
“It’s okay!” You hurry to reassure him, “Actually, it’s strange... Should I be feeling distant because we don’t see each other as often? Maybe it’s because I’ve been watching your interviews and performances. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything so it doesn’t feel that way at all.”
“I didn’t know you watched our stuff. I’ll have to work harder now that I know you’re watching,” he jokes, sounding half-pleased, half-embarrassed.
The sweet smell of bell peppers permeates the kitchen. Jimin stirs the vegetables together on high heat until they cook through. All the while, he starts to hum along to the tune of Fake Love. The instant he croons the chorus, your shoulders tense up as you become wary once again.
Because he’s been singing it all week, you can’t tell if he’s taunting you right now, reminding you of your earlier fuck up, or just humming it from force of habit. Upon closer observation, the spring in his step, the gleam of mirth reflected in his irises...they all tell you that he’s taking great joy in making you squirm.
It’s safe to say that you spend the rest of the night on edge. A smirk stays permanently etched on your boyfriend’s face. Various scenarios flash through your mind, each one filling you up with an equal mix of dread and anticipation.
Yet Jimin does the opposite of what you expect—he doesn’t pounce on you the moment dinner is over, doesn’t even acknowledge the sheer babydoll you slip on before heading to bed.
What he does is press his lips against the crown of your head, his soft voice wishing you a good night’s sleep. The chaste kiss stuns you into silence. Jimin proceeds to turn off the lights, darkness eclipsing the rising suspicion etched on your face.
This is...very...strange.
You’re on high-alert, muscles refusing to relax. You toss and turn for a while, unable to find sleep. It must be a trap, you think to yourself as you stare blankly at the ceiling, the sound of Jimin’s steady breathing eventually putting you to sleep.
When days pass without further mention of the incident, you start to forget about it altogether. Maybe it’s better off that way. You don’t like thinking about it, either.
Slowly but surely, you find yourself relaxing, his attitude lulling you into a false sense of security.
You should have known better.
In retrospect, you’d been foolish to believe your boyfriend would let this matter go without a fuss; it wasn’t in his nature to be anything but petty. If you had remembered this crucial fact, then maybe he wouldn’t have successfully fooled you into letting your guard down.
You start to realize your mistake when five days go by without a good dicking down. Five. Which is not a rare occurrence when they’re promoting, but - something about it feels off.
At the end of each night, his lips work insistently against yours, his hands mapping out the expanse of your body, squeezing and stroking your erogenous zones, before pulling off abruptly, leaving you a panting mess.
It tastes like betrayal—after all, there is nothing crueler than cutting you off right before the main course. His excuses never vary, claiming sudden fatigue, and you’d have no trouble believing him under normal circumstances, but the glint in his eyes you spot every damn time tells you of a different story.
It’s now been a little over two weeks and you think you’re going to die a horny bitch. You’d tried rubbing one out on your own, but each attempt had only heightened your arousal, providing no real relief. It was like scratching a mosquito bite, only aggravating the problem instead of making it disappear. Why would you settle when you know you could get a grade A orgasm from your boyfriend instead?
Too bad you’re above begging. Your pride is the only thing keeping you from getting on your knees and asking him to fuck your face into next Friday. As the days slowly blur into two weeks, your resolve starts to crumble. Behind the facade you try to put up, you feel your edges start to fray.
How he expects you to hold on for much longer is beyond you. You refuse to believe he’s as unaffected as he pretends to be. Was going to bed with blue balls every night really worth teaching you a lesson?! Apparently, yes.
But the longer your dry spell perdures, the more drastic your thoughts become. You have half a mind to handcuff him to the bedposts and just ride his face until you’re satisfied, but luckily (or unluckily) Jimin switches strategies. Which is fine with you—anything is better than this. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. You don’t expect Jimin to prove you wrong.
.
.
"Good job, Kookie," their instructor praises as the last notes of the song fade into silence. "Everyone did well. Keep it up, you’ve worked hard."
Jungkook dips his head down, the corner of his lips curving into a shy smile. Next to him, Yoongi collapses into a heap on the floor, done for the day. His chest rises and falls quickly, still struggling to catch his breath. Not that the other members are faring much better.
Even at full blast, the air conditioning isn't enough to cool them down. Jimin feels sticky all over, his damp clothes clinging to his form like second skin.
Jimin blots his face with a towel, his trembling fingers uncapping his water bottle. The slide of the cold liquid down his throat is as welcome as a desert oasis. He greedily gulps it down, the insides of his mouth rough like sandpaper.
He feels like he’s going to burst into flames, his body temperature refusing to cool down even as he presses an ice pack against his forehead. Sweat trickles down his nape, adding on to the layer of perspiration that covers his back. He’s bone-tired, all of his energy drained. His legs shake from the grueling practice, threatening to give out without warning. The only thing keeping him from face-planting onto the floor is the thought of a nice, steaming shower, and the comfort of a delicious dinner waiting for him at home.
Pushing his matted fringe out his face, he casts a glance over to their youngest member who is equally drenched in sweat, face flushed pink from exertion.
Annoyance prickles his skin at the sight, the feeling having become, against his will, all too familiar. He’s tried to fight it, to push it aside and ignore it completely. But just because he pretends it’s not there doesn’t mean it isn’t.
It only makes him feel worse - knowing that he shouldn’t be feeling this way, but feeling it anyway.
He heaves a deep sigh, knowing full well that Jungkook’s not the one to blame. It's his own fault for not working harder. How can he be praised if he’s not deserving of it?
Jimin knows his thoughts are irrational. Because really - he's genuinely proud of Jungkook. He's witnessed first hand how much work and soul the youngest has poured into this comeback, knows how much sweat and effort he put into perfecting every move until it became ingrained to his very core.
He stares down at his calloused palms, lost in thought.
“See you tomorrow, hyung.” Jungkook smiles his way, a slight sheen covering his face. “Say hi to noona for me.”
Jimin blinks, the mention of you snapping him to attention. His eyes narrow imperceptibly, suddenly remembering the other problem he’s yet to resolve. He huffs, the feelings of frustration culminating inside of him. “Right, I’ll see you tomorrow. Get home safely.”
There’s a slight edge that colors his tone, not usually present. Jungkook must be too exhausted to take notice of it though, attention already wavering to the phone in his hand.
Maybe it’s the stress of the comeback weighing down on him. Jimin’s not normally this worked up, this aggravated. Even the little things have started to annoy him - the shrill sound of his alarm, the slow tick of the clock as he waits for his ramen to heat up, Jin hyung’s incessant nagging. Things that he’s usually indifferent to, things that he sometimes finds amusing... He doesn’t know when they all started rubbing him the wrong way.
He wonders why he’s let it drag on this long, knows it’s not healthy. Keeping it to himself has only made it worse. All of his insecurities have continued to stack themselves up on each other, one by one, and now everything that he’s stockpiled inside of him threatens to topple over.
Jimin should talk about it to someone, let it all out once and for all. Communication is key for a healthy relationship, he’s been told. He’s aware he’ll have to bring it up eventually... But he’s been delaying the inevitable, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room.
Because it scares him. Putting his feelings, his fears, and his desires out there for someone to see, to judge. That’s not to say that he doesn’t trust you; of course he does. But it’s scary. It’s hard to confess his weaknesses to someone when he’s tried so long to keep up a flawless public facade.
He knows it’s not healthy to keep his emotions bottled in. He knows if he lets them, he’ll end up erupting like a volcano after years of being dormant.
These thoughts keep him alert on his way home, even though his body wants nothing more than to crash into a deep slumber. He stays uncharacteristically quiet, silently working up his courage to talk about what’s on his mind.
However, it’s hard to find the right timing. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.
Jimin occupies his mouth with spoonfuls of soup, knowing that once his dinner is over he’ll have no more excuses to hide behind. You fill him in about your day, informing him of all the horrid things your coworkers had said.
“... And it’s just so fucking sickening. They refuse to admit what they did was wrong. It’s mind-boggling, I really can’t believe I’m living in the 21st century when shit like this keeps happening.” You take a big gulp of water to calm yourself down. Jimin looks over at you in concern, knowing that your fury is genuine. “Of course they’ll agree that what happened to Minju was disgusting, but how are they any better? Why would they search the video up in the first place?”
“Yeah, there’s no way they didn’t know what they were doing. Did they catch whoever uploaded the video?”
You nod, mouth downturned into a frown. “But I don’t know how it’ll go... This is the third incident that happened in our company since September... The first one got pronounced innocent because of lack of evidence...” You trail off, outrage bubbling inside of you. “I wish the government would put in place stricter sanctions, at least to scare them off. I feel so frustrated I can’t breathe. Of course I feel angry, of course I do, but - I can only defend her so much without getting called in by the higher-ups. And I feel like... I keep blaming our individualistic and patriarchal society instead of actively trying to change it. Even if I get fired from my job, it doesn’t get rid of the problem.”
He grows quiet, your words resonating with him. Although the two cases weren’t the same in essence, Jimin could relate all too well to your feelings of frustration and helplessness.
“Sorry,” you quiet down. “I know this is a lot.”
“No, it’s okay. I want you to tell me about whatever’s troubling you,” he soothes, even as his mind screams back that he’s acting like a hypocrite.
“I feel a bit better, talking to you.” You offer a small smile. “I still haven’t figured out what to do at work but talking about it has helped a bit. It’s not a mess in my head anymore.”
“I’m glad.” And he is.
.
Looking back, he knows that it’s that conversation that ends up motivating him into confessing. It doesn’t happen right away; he works up to it, little by little.
It registers, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this is the 13th night since The Incident. He rolls over on his side, his cheek pressed up against the silky blue pillowcase.
Instantly, he can tell that you’re sulking right now. It’s become somewhat of a routine - he’ll get your body worked up and then cut it off before he gives in to temptation, and then you’ll sulk for a bit, still painfully aroused.
Jimin has always been aware where his strengths lie. And, not to sound full of himself, but he really does look cute and innocent like this, his squished cheek forcing a pout to sit on his lips - a 10/10 puppy dog face. It doesn’t have the same effect on you as it did when you first started dating, since you now know from first hand experience not to trust his misleading angelic looks... But he still hopes that this will soften you up some.
He repeats your name a few times, pulling your attention away from the book perched in your lap. When you raise an eyebrow in question, he freezes, unsure of how to get his thoughts out coherently. How did it come so easily to some people? He attempts a casual approach, “What’s so special about Jungkook’s abs, anyway?”
“I knew it!” You round on him, book forgotten already.
“Just answer the question,” he juts out his bottom lip, accentuating the pout he sports.
You finally decide to humor him, your index finger tracing the spine of your bedside reading as you mull over the question. “Maybe it’s the surprise factor? Jungkook’s such a sweet, shy boy... I don’t think anyone expected him to rip off a few buttons on live television.”
“It’s a shirt lift,” corrects Jimin, his lips twitching before he can stop them. “That barely lasts a second.”
“I think that’s why people feel the need to rewatch it several times to make sure they aren’t seeing things.”
He sighs, rubbing a tired eye with he back of his hand. Honestly speaking, he doesn’t care that you watched Jungkook’s fancam. He gets it. Jungkook’s hot. What doesn’t sit well with him is the lack of attention he’s been getting in comparison. Even the comments left under their videos are mostly about Jungkook’s abs, and he can’t help but feel annoyed. He has abs, too. Do people only start to care when they flash a bit of skin?
“Hey. What’s wrong?” You must’ve noticed the tick in his jaw.
He supposes it’s now or never. If he doesn’t get this off his chest now, then he never will.
“I’ve just... Been frustrated recently.”
There’s a short silence as he gathers his thoughts.
“Did I do something?” you ask, hesitant.
“No, not really.” Jimin shakes his head, reaching out for your hand. The warmth from your palm grounds him, helps him think. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs up with courage.
“I’m just... Are abs all there are to a person? Why do I feel like people only care about me when I’m stripping off my clothes?”
“Hey.” Your voice is unexpectedly firm, catching his attention. “You’re worth more than that. I’m sorry if I contributed in making you feel that way...”
“It’s not you,” he reiterates. “I’m... I feel like I don’t stand out enough this time and it’s... hard.” Lacking the right words, he finishes lamely, not knowing how to put his insecurities into words.
The reason he’d been avoiding bringing up the subject of you watching Jungkook’s fancam was because he’d hope to avoid this feeling - of being bare in front of you, without an armor to take refuge in.
Somehow you seem to understand. Your hand squeezes his, encasing his in a comforting warmth. He swallows thickly, not knowing why he hadn’t tried confiding in you earlier.
He remembers your words, how you’d said that talking about your frustrations had made it easier to clear things up in your head. Talking about it won’t miraculously erase his problems, but he can already feel a slight weight lifted from his shoulders.
“I feel bad... I’ve been so terse with Jungkook lately... I don’t know how to make it up to him for acting like such... a...” He trails off, eyes finding your inquisitive ones as a plan starts to formulate in his mind.
.
.
Hindsight truly is 20/20, you think with regret as you feel his gaze boring into you from behind.
“Noona,” Jungkook greets, the corner of his lips stretching to reveal his toothy grin.
“Hi.” Normally, you’d be more enthusiastic, easily engaging in conversation with him, but the stupid video playing incessantly through your mind at the moment reduces you to silence.
Unwittingly, your gaze drops to his stomach. It’s...instinctive. And you feel like the world’s biggest perv. You’re embarrassed for picturing the set of abs you know he has packed under the thin white shirt, so you duck your head and scroll through your phone aimlessly in an attempt to appear busy - anything to get your mind off them and the pain they had caused you.
The exchange and your subsequent reaction doesn’t go unnoticed.
Next to you, Jimin clears his throat and nudges you with his elbow, “I need to talk to you real quick.”
He stands up from his position on the couch and you move to follow him, doing your best to avoid Jungkook’s inquisitive stare.
“We’ll be back soon, alright? Don’t let the other hyungs worry.”
From the corner of your eyes, you catch Jungkook nodding in response, curiosity painted on his face.
Your boyfriend sets his hand on the small of your back, the movement drawing the younger’s scrutiny onto you. You stiffen, hyper-aware of his gaze roaming your profile. Almost imperceptibly, Jimin’s hand curls around your waist, drawing you closer to his side. It shifts your attention back to him.
His face is an impassive mask, the darkness in his eyes the only warning for what's in store. All of your instincts tell you that Jimin’s about to put an end to this ridiculous self-imposed sex ban. It kindles a sense of excitement in your lower belly. The newfound energy makes you eager to find out what he’s planning.
It’s a short wait. He leads you straight into a conveniently unoccupied room. It’s filled with rows of stage costumes all hung up neatly on racks, the clothes carefully organized by performance and member. Not the most fancy or romantic of settings for sex but you’ll take what you can get at this point.
With a click, the door shuts behind him.
Immediately your eyes zero in on the plumpness of his mouth, his lips colored pink. You know the hair and makeup unnies will scold you later for ruining his makeup, but you lean in to press an urgent kiss against them anyway.
Satisfaction wraps itself around your spine when Jimin doesn’t try to dodge your attempts at deepening the kiss. His hand comes up to caress your jaw, his thin fingers tracing the lines of your face. You’ve missed this - the heat curling in your stomach, the slide of his tongue against yours. When he finally pulls back, his blown pupils reveal that he’s equally affected as you.
Jimin’s thumb lingers on the curvature of your lips, before trailing down the column of your throat. Even a simple touch like this makes you ache. It’s really been too long since you’ve shared an intimate moment with him; anything he does is sufficient to get you hot and bothered.
Dark eyes stare down at you, silent in their assessment.
“I’ve decided on your punishment.” His voice sounds louder in the quiet of the room despite speaking softly.
You gape at him as your mind whirs to process his words. “I thought...? Wasn’t... What do you call the last two weeks you put me through then?
“Oh no,” he shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “The real fun starts now.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you growl out, “Fun? What part of this was fun? You basically locked me up in a nunnery and left me to fend for myself.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll like this part better. Off,” he motions for you to remove your shirt.
Maybe the lack of orgasms had messed with your head, because you find yourself disposing of the garment in five seconds flat. The comfortable cotton bra is removed soon after, no prompting needed. Had you any shame left, you might have dialed back the eagerness a little but you’re in no state of mind to feel ashamed. Hell, even a week ago you would have made Jimin suck his own dick for putting you through this shit.
But sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, you reason. Shame? The word no longer belongs in your vocabulary.
“Good girl,” he allows a smile to tug at his lips, his eyes drinking in the sight of you topless.
The surface of your skin breaks out in goosebumps when he drags the pads of his fingertips back and forth across your collarbones. He repeats the movement a few times, enjoying the constant fidgeting that his touch provokes. Whether it’s because of the air conditioning that filters through the room or because of the arousal that begins to simmer in the pit of your belly, your nipples stiffen to peaks, aching for attention.
Impatient, you grab Jimin’s wandering hand and place it over your chest, right where you need it. His smirk only deepens at your show of desperation, but you’re too focused on your task to care.
“Slow down,” he chuckles, eyes crinkling in amusement. It’s infuriating - how he does nothing else but cup your left breast in his palm.
“Jimin,” you hiss between your teeth. “Foreplay was over a week ago. I swear to God, if you don’t get on with- ow!”
Your speech is rudely interrupted when Jimin pinches your nipple between his index and thumb. Hard. The sting of pleasure travels down your spine, wiping you clean of thought. It soon proves to be difficult to stay composed; you have to bite your lip to keep your expression in check. Jimin doesn’t need to know how much he affects you. His smug demeanor is already insufferable as it is.
“And whose fault is that, hm? Why do you think I cut you off?” He prods, gaze locked onto yours. All the while, his thumb circles over your sensitive nipple, coaxing your pleasure to the surface. Your breasts are naturally sensitive, more so than others, which is both a blessing and a curse.
Right now, you’re leaning towards the latter, hating how easy it is for Jimin to manipulate your body to his whims. A few flicks of his fingers and you turn into a pile of mush, tongue heavy and hard to move.
“Because it’s hard to keep up with my sex drive?”
He twists the bud, drawing a yelp from your bratty mouth. “Wrong answer.”
The tension hanging in the air becomes heavy as the seconds of silence stretch on. Knowing that this a battle of the mind, you refuse to give in now. You just need to hold on a little longer...
When it becomes apparent that you won’t cooperate, refusing to play by his rules, he narrows his eyes in warning. You stare back, unwavering, the seam of your mouth tightly sewn together.
But just because you’re determined, doesn’t mean the wait isn’t torturous. It’s agonizing - knowing that you could be putting his mouth to good use instead of sitting still. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, so close yet too far away to provide any relief. It takes a monumental effort not to reach out and pull him against you. The darkness of his irises seem to translate similar thoughts; they rake over your frame, lingering on your lips, collarbones and chest. It’s almost like you can feel the phantom touch of his hands as they smooth over every dip and curve of your body.
When your eyes meet, it’s like you’ve both reached a silent agreement.
The next moment is a blur, one that’s hard to make sense of - one second you’re both staring each other down, the next your mouths are interlaced in a heated embrace.
In one smooth movement, he wraps his arms around your middle and hoists you up onto the vanity table. Back now pressed up against the mirror, you let your legs fall open so that Jimin can settle between them. It’s messy - your teeth bump into each other - but you can’t find it in yourself to care about the slight discomfort, not when Jimin’s finally giving you what you’ve been yearning for.
After two weeks of unsatisfying endings, this almost feels too good to be true. It seems like every man has his own limits, after all. Jimin’s no monk by any means... You’re surprised that he’s made it this far without his resolve cracking. Considering what a horndog he usually is, what he managed to accomplish is impressive in itself. You’d give him a congratulatory blowjob if he let you near his dick.
Unfortunately, judging by the pace he’s taking this, you don’t think that will be any time soon.
For someone who is under time constraints, Jimin sure is taking his sweet time, you groan internally.
There’s nothing hurried about his movements. He works his way down your body, peppering a trail of hot-mouthed kisses across the expanse of your neck and collarbones. He’s nothing but meticulous, ignoring your soft pleas to hurry the fuck up. Mark after mark, his tongue soothes away the sting of pain his teeth leave behind. Your features twist into a wince when he gives a particularly painful nip near your collar and you’re certain that the indentation of his bite will remain long after this is over, proof of your tryst.
Your veins feel like they’re on fire. Liquid heat travels throughout your body, from the top of your scalp to the tips of your toes, melting you from the inside out until nothing matters but the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through your veins.
He pulls your hips forward so that they’re flush against his. One of his hands pushes your shoulder back until you’re propped up against the mirror, while the other settles by your hip to keep you in place. The position is awkward and puts a slight strain on your muscles - you have to crane your neck to in order to get a proper of view of what he’s doing.
Never once breaking eye contact, he dives in, his mouth latching onto the sensitive nub of your right breast. Your back arches, chasing the delicious heat that his mouth provides.
Jimin’s plush lips are a force to be reckoned with. He’s absolutely relentless, his brows drawn together in determination as he makes sure to give both of your breasts equal attention. There’s a hidden purpose behind each ministration - every graze of his teeth against your skin makes you cry out, each teasing flick of his tongue makes you squirm in place. A litany of moans escape your parted mouth; the cries of pleasure steadily crescendo as the scorching fire within you nears fever pitch.
Seemingly satisfied, he finally pulls back, a grin of triumph etched onto his features. He looks down to examine the result of his hard work, prompting you to do the same.
Your breasts feel heavy and swollen, like they do before your time of the month rolls around. Even the lightest brush of his index finger against their tip causes your body to jerk back as if struck by an electric current. Jimin takes note of your reactions, cataloging every shift of expression.
“Sweetheart,” he hums out after digging his thumbnail into your areola. You shudder. “This feel good?”
You nod, not fully registering the question, too distracted by the deluge of sensations wracking your frame with every pluck and pull of his fingers.
“Knowing how much you like being played with, I bet you’ve already soaked through your panties, hm?” The lilt in his voice is teasing as he squeezes your skin, the drag of his fingernails enough to make shivers run down your spine. “Takes so little to get you going on, it’s cute.”
“Maybe. Wanna find out?” You shift your hips up against his, silently relishing the friction his denim jeans provide. If you cant your hips a certain way, you can feel the zipper dig into the crotch of your underwear, right by your clit. He lets you have your way, his dark eyes flaring in intensity as you fill up the silence of the room with breathy moans, your needy center rocking against his like a horny teenager ready to bust a nut.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’ve become too spoiled for you own good.” Jimin draws back before you have time to hook your ankles around his waist to keep him in place. The loss of contact is immediately felt, your body unbearably cold, the space between your thighs throbbing. You have to physically bite down a whine of protest, already close to losing your mind.
Snapping your legs closed, you try to douse the fire that’s burning up your insides. Your subtle attempt at gaining some much needed friction doesn’t go unnoticed.
“You’d do anything for cock right now.” He states, amusement dancing across his face at your obvious desperation. You fight back a sneer, pointedly eyeing the bulge tenting his jeans. As if he’s faring much better... If he expects you to acquiesce his ridiculous claims, he’s got another thing coming...
When you stay silent, lips stubbornly pursed into a pout, he cocks his head to the side. “No? That’s okay, it’s probably a good idea to head on back now. We’ve been gone for a while...” Ignoring the look of betrayal that crosses your face, he continues, “I did say we’d be quick, didn’t I? Poor Jungkookie might be worried about us. You know how he is...”
No, I don’t know, you want to growl back. But the 180 shift in his demeanor has rendered you completely speechless. Even as he bends down to retrieve your discarded clothes from the ground, you stay silent, mouth refusing to work properly.
“Here you go,” he hands you back your shirt. Your eyes narrow in suspicion, refusing to trust the good Samaritan act. You’d been fooled too many times now to fall for his tricks.
Sure enough, his sweet smile turns devious. He holds up your undergarment, conveniently keeping it out of arm’s reach. “I’ll be keeping this, though.”
“What do you mean ‘keeping it’?! I can’t go out like this when my nips are hard enough to poke someone’s eye out!”
You cross your arms over chest. There’s no way that you wont attract the stares of passersby in this current state. Might as well wear a shirt with big, flashy arrows pointing to your tits - the effect would be the same.
“You can have my jacket.” He shrugs the denim piece off his shoulders, revealing a simple red blouse worth more than the average man’s weekly salary.
Lost in contemplation, you try to weigh the pros and cons of the offer as you examine the over-sized denim jacket. Once buttoned, it’s large enough to cover everything from your waist to your neck. There’s no way anyone will suspect your lack of bra if you’re careful.
The more you ponder, the more the idea of forgoing a bra appeals to you. Why would you wear a bra when you could go without? You’re not the biggest fan of the constricting material, and slipping it back over your sensitive breasts might even be painful.
Deep down, you know you’re trying to justify your recklessness by any means possible. It’s so easy for rumors to start up and get out of control - you’re both well aware of that fact. And yet - you keep raising the stakes; stealing kisses when you think no one is looking, borrowing his clothes to wear in public, even going as far as to give him the suck in some random bathroom before an interview.
You finally reach a decision, your hand reaching out to take the offered cover-up in lieu of a verbal response.
Before passing you the jacket, Jimin pauses, a serious glint in his eyes.
“We don’t have to do this.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact, trying to convey his honesty. All usual traces of playfulness are gone as he searches your gaze for the slightest sign of discomfort or uncertainty. “You shouldn’t do this if you’re not sure about it. I won’t be disappointed or anything.”
“I know we don’t.” Your eyes soften along with your heart. It’s just like him to verify how you feel about the situation.
In all the time you’ve dated him, Jimin has never pressured you to do anything you weren’t entirely on-board with. Granted, you’ve rarely backed down from a challenge, but that’s more so because you have a devil-may-care attitude that everyone, your parents included, assumed you’d grow out of when you became an adult.
The truth is most of the time you’re the one dragging Jimin along for the ride. If management knew the shenanigans you and Jimin had partaken in, they’d probably ban you from seeing him, let alone set foot in their agency.
You grab the jacket from his hold, confidence oozing from your tone, “I’m game! I want this.”
He steps back to let you put your clothes back on. As you squeeze your tight-fitting shirt over your head, you let out a hiss of discomfort, the fabric rubbing against your perky nipples, irritating the sensitive skin further. It’s hard to ignore how aroused you still are, but by some miracle you manage.
Jimin’s jacket slides over your frame, effectively hiding your lack of bra. You triple-check just to make sure, spinning around so that Jimin can examine you from all angles.
“It looks fine to me.” Excitement glimmers in his irises, the thought of you being this naughty getting him aroused beyond belief. “Fuck, this is hot.”
“Really? This is getting you off?” You can’t stop your snicker. “You like knowing I’m walking around without a bra under these clothes? Should I slip off my panties for you too?”
“Shit.” His pupils dilate at your words, growing impossibly dark.
“I really don’t think that it’s a good idea though...” You pucker your lips into a pout, feigning regret. “How will I stop myself from dripping down my legs without them on? My skirt’s so short... I don’t want anyone else knowing I’m this wet for you.”
Jimin mutters a curse under his breath and you struggle to stifle a snort. And he has the nerve to call you easy... If you had known he would be this malleable, you would have seduced your way into his pants a long time ago.
“Let’s just go.” He grumbles, adjusting his jeans so that his bulge doesn’t stand out as much.
There’s a rush of adrenaline that courses through you. Every time a staff member greets you, it makes your breath hitch. You wonder what they’d think, what they’d do, if they found out that you were parading around, your nipples stiff as rocks under your shirt. You can imagine the expressions of shock, maybe even of horror, cross their face.
It’s an irrational fear - you know no one knows what you’ve been up to. The walk back to the waiting room had been mostly uneventful, most people not sparing you a second glance.
Darting your eyes around the nearly empty room, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth nervously.
In the far right corner, Namjoon is sitting with his feet up, laptop balanced on his knees. He hasn’t looked up once since you’d returned, his attention fixated on the screen in front of him, the headphones over his ears blocking out any distractions. The other member occupying the room happens to be Jungkook. He seems harmless enough - not having spared the two of you more than a handful of glances, too busy playing the latest addicting mobile game.
You settle onto the couch and glue yourself to Jimin’s side, using him as a human shield, one that’s capable of erasing your presence from the room. He laughs softly, breath tickling your face, his arm coming around to wrap itself around you. The familiar scent of Jimin’s cologne envelops you while the warmth of his body cocoons you in a protective blanket. The adrenaline rush from earlier seems to have made you drowsy; your racing heartbeat gradually slows down as your eyelids become heavy with sleep.
Jimin threads his fingers through your hair, knowing that you like the soothing feeling of someone petting your head. Even though it makes you feel like an overgrown cat, nothing else can make your body this pliant, this relaxed.
You’re broken out of your reverie by the sound of metal chair legs scraping the floor. Namjoon rises to his feet and stretches his long limbs, joints cracking in the process. Distantly, he mumbles something about getting ramen, his voice strangely muffled and distorted by the sleepy haze that’s fallen over you. He sounds miles away already, his voice drifting right on over you.
“I’m a bit cold.” Jimin leans down to mumble the words into the shell of your ear. “I think I’d like my jacket back.”
Your breath hitches at the suggestion.
“Hm? What d’you think?”
“But-” Your eyes flit over to Jungkook’s hunched figure. He is absorbed in his game now but who’s to say he won’t look your way?
Despite all rational thought, you slowly unbutton the outer garment, feeling a sick sense of excitement stir up in your gut as the jacket falls open one button at a time. Jimin’s expectant stare weighs down on you - even without looking, you can tell he’s scrutinizing your every move. Knowing that he’s complicit in your scandalous behavior only excites you further. You become bolder - your fingers working faster, no longer hesitant.
As the denim slides off your shoulders to pool around your waist, you immediately become aware of two things.
One - the inside of your panties feel uncomfortable damp. There’s probably a dark spot staining the fabric by now, drenched in your arousal. You’re certain that if Jimin flips your skirt up now he’ll be able to see the mess you’ve made - how the cotton sticks to your folds, completely molded to your lower lips.
And two - your plain cotton shirt leaves little to the imagination. The fabric surrounding your nipples is slightly damp from Jimin’s earlier ministrations, making the pebbled tips all the more prominent. Anyone with a working eye can clearly see the pigmented skin under the cotton material.
Jimin reaches a curious hand out, his fingers carefully brushing up against the stark evidence of your arousal. Your breathing stutters when he starts to play with them. Air gets sucked straight out of your lungs as you struggle to keep your reactions to a minimum, not daring to draw attention to the lewd sight you two must make.
There’s something arousing about the situation - Jimin’s casualness, the complete and utter lack of fucks given. He’s playing with your tits out in the open, for anyone to walk in on. For a split second, you wonder how far he’ll take this.
“H-hyung?”
Your neck snaps up, taken off-guard. Somehow, stupidly, you had forgotten about Jungkook’s existence entirely. Jimin’s hands fall from your chest, but the damage is done.
Your nips are now perkier than ever, almost threatening to poke their way through the thin shirt. You’re hoping that Jungkook will pretend to not have seen anything, or - better yet - fail to notice how swollen your nipples have become because of Jimin’s agile hands. It’s a futile thought.
“Uhh...” Jungkook visibly flounders. You can see the struggle written all over his face, how he’s doing his best to politely avert his gaze from your chest. Under any other circumstance, you’d find his wide-eyed reaction comical. But in the moment, all you want to do is shrink in on yourself and erase your presence from the scene of the crime. “N-nevermind. I’ll just, uh, go find Yoongi hyung.”
He carefully retreats, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth.
“Jungkook,” Jimin calls out, firmly. You can see the immediate effect of his voice, how it roots Jungkook to his spot as if invisible strings prevented him from fleeing. Jungkook goes rigid, the muscles in his neck tensing up as he gulps harshly, mouth suddenly dry.
“Y-yes?”
“____ here wanted to have a word with you.” Your eyes nearly bug out at the mention of your name. “She has a little something to confess.”
Jungkook fakes a cough, stalling. “Ah...is that right?” He still refuses to look in your direction, the tips of his ears tinged pink.
“Go on, sweetheart.” He turns to look at Jungkook, eyes crinkling into a smile. “She’s a big fan of yours. Why don’t you tell Kookie what your favorite video is of these days?”
You aim a glare at Jimin, wishing for nothing more than to obliterate the ugly smug look from his face. When will he let that video go? You’ve always known he was petty and one to hold onto grudges... But even this is becoming tiresome. You know that if you refuse to acknowledge it now, he’ll hold this over you until the day you wither away.
“Fine! I watched the video of Jungkook flashing his tits. Maybe more than once.” You roll your eyes, your shoulders raising into a shrug. Jimin’s silent snicker tells you that your attempt at a nonchalant behavior had failed to convince them. Your face burns in equal parts embarrassment and arousal.
Jungkook splutters, taken aback by your brazenness. Hues of pink and red bloom across the surface of his cheeks.
Jimin huffs a laugh, “She finds you attractive.”
“Ah, uh. Thanks?” He squeaks, not knowing if this is some kind of prank or not.
“What about you? Do you find her pretty?” Now that the question’s been asked, you can’t help but feel curious. What does he think about you? You’ve never asked yourself this question before but now your interest has been piqued.
Poor Jungkook looks like his ears are going to fall off. They’re burning red. “Um.”
“I’ve seen you look at her before, it’s okay. Just tell her how you feel.” His voice turns syrupy sweet, trying to coax a response from Jungkook.
This is news to you. Your brows raise in surprise, eyes darting from Jungkook to Jimin and back again. The former shifts his weight from one foot to the other, looking like a cornered rabbit about to get caught.
“She’s pretty,” he finally peeps, daring a glance at you. Your breasts are like magnets, attracting his curious gaze. He diverts his stare almost right away, but his interest doesn’t go unnoticed.
Jimin also takes note of the exchange, a smirk settling onto his features as his mind whirs with endless possibilities.
.
.
“... You sure about this?”
“Weren’t you the one that suggested this in the first place?”
“I’m just making sure!”
“Yes, I’m sure.” You repeat with an eye roll.
“Let’s get you nice and ready.” Jimin throws his phone aside, focusing his attention onto you. He lands a smack on your upper thighs, so quick it barely has time to register. “He says he’ll be here in ten minutes so we have some time.”
The fleeting spark of pleasure pushes you into action, your body moving into a comfortable position on the mattress even as you grumble under your breath. “Can you not talk about me like a turkey you’re about to stuff before roasting in the oven.”
“Well... You might not be a turkey, but you are about to get stuffed with cock.” He breaks out into laughter at his own joke, either from amusement or embarrassment.
You politely choose to ignore his comment. Sometimes you like to pretend like your boyfriend’s sense of humor doesn’t suck ass. It’s hard - especially ever since Jin’s jokes have started rubbing off on him after hanging out with him more often.
“Okay, I’ll stop,” he finally relents.
“If you say something like that while you’re fucking me, I swear on my grandmother’s grave—”
“Hey, don’t swear on your—”
“—that I’ll revoke your pussy privileges for a month. Don’t think I’m joking! The last time you pulled that shit I thought my vagina shriveled—”
“I said I’ll stop!” Jimin whines, promptly cutting you off. “I won’t do it.”
“Good.” You peck his lips, mouth stretching into a smile. “I don’t want you setting bad examples for Jungkook.”
“Please, with that face, I doubt anyone would complain if he decided to break out into a yodel halfway through.”
“...”
“Yeah, okay, maybe not a yodel but you get my point.”
“You know some people aren’t just here for the visuals, right? Most of— well...” Your mind drifts off, suddenly remembering their overly-enthusiastic fandom. You’re sure you’d find people willing to give the yodel thing a go... “I have standards, okay? And if you’re trying to tell me that he secretly has a yodeling—”
“He doesn’t,” sighs Jimin, put out. “Why do you have to be serious about everything?” He then grows quiet, lost in thought.
You take that moment to slather some vanilla-scented lotion onto your freshly shaven legs.
“He’s not fucking you, you know,” comes Jimin’s voice from behind you.
“And I don’t want him to.” You quip back, spritzing on perfume. “We haven’t had sex in like...a month. Gotta make sure it’s special, right?”
He shoots you a disbelieving look so you saunter up to him, bathrobe falling open intentionally. You make sure he gets a nice eyeful of your most expensive lingerie set - a sheer number that’s more aesthetic than it is practical. You know it looks good on you, the color perfectly complementing the hue of your skin.
��Everything I do is for you, okay?” The words I love you go unsaid, but they’re there, hanging between the space separating you.
Jimin pulls you in by the waist to lean his forehead against yours. The private undercurrent is interrupted by the door buzzer. He pulls away, a little reluctant to cut the moment short.
He goes to let the guest in and you trail behind him, a giddy sensation taking over you. It’s the first time either of you are trying something like this... And the novelty excites you. You’d spoken and talked it over multiple times before agreeing, drawing a set of rules and limitations to follow throughout. There’s nothing you’re too worried about - you trust Jimin. He knows where to draw the line and you know he’ll speak up if things veer off course.
That’s why when you find yourself in the bedroom, a stranger on your bed, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Well, he’s not a stranger, not exactly, but the point remains the same. It doesn’t make you feel uneasy to be half-naked in front of him, your fluffy bathrobe discarded somewhere on the floor of the hallway.
“You’ll be good for hyung, won’t you Kookie?” Jimin hums, a smirk toying at his lips.
“I will.” Jungkook’s eyes are earnest, eyebrows pulled together. He looks so willing to prove his obedience that it’s adorable. The expression makes you want to reach over and pinch his cheeks, shower him in praise.
Jimin’s eyes turn dark, quietly assessing. “We’ll see.”
He crouches down and rummages through his suitcase, his neatly folded clothes getting strewn across the floor in the process. A look of triumph settles onto his features as he stands up, hand clenched by his side.
There, in his enclosed fist, is a red, striped tie.
“Hyung’s about to tie you up, alright?”
“Why?” It’s not a protest, just genuine curiosity.
“You’re going to keep your hands to yourself and maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you touch.”
“O-okay,” he nods, taking this as a challenge. Jimin crawls onto the bed, pushing Jungkook into his desired position. You watch their interaction, transfixed. It’s strange seeing your boyfriend tie Jungkook up with a knot you’re so acquainted with. You can recall all the times he’s used it on you, how the slide of hemp or satin digs deliciously into your skin, leaving marks as a reminder of the encounter.
Jungkook runs his tongue over his lips nervously.
“You’ll tell me if you want an out, won’t you?” prods Jimin, looking serious.
“Yeah.”
“Hmm... That’s good.” Jimin praises, giving his head a ruffle. Then, to you, “Be a good girl and show Kookie how much you liked his performance.”
Your eyes dart towards Jungkook, your mouth feeling dry. You inch towards them slowly, still struggling to adapt to the situation. It’s not that you feel uncomfortable but it’s... Strange. New.
“Show me how.” You breathe out, finally reaching them. Now that you’re by their side, you feel a little less removed from the situation. It was odd observing them from a distance - you feel more at ease being an active participant.
Jimin assists you with raising Jungkook's shirt up, effectively exposing his skin for your eyes to feast on. And...damn. You’d seen how hot he looked through your screen, but seeing up close made your heartbeat pick up pace.
"Jungkook's worked hard on these." Jimin trails a finger down the line running through the center of Jungkook's abs. You watch with bated breath as the muscles clench up at the unexpected touch, becoming even more define than they were a second ago. He squirms under the probing gazes directed at him, feeling hot all over.
"You know what you both have in common?" starts Jimin, a smirk inching its way into his voice. "You're both really sensitive here."
He pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, drawing a gasp of surprise from the younger male. Your eyes widen in amazement at the sound. You'd heard rumors about it, heard the passing comments that sounded more like inside jokes, but you never thought he'd be this sensitive. "You really should give him some attention here, I bet he'd like that. And after all the work he's put in, he deserves a little treat, don't you think?"
Doing your best to follow Jimin's suggestion, wanting above all else to please him, you raise a hand up to join his outstretched one, fingers brushing up against his in the process. After checking for Jungkook's approval, you tentatively press into his nipple, rubbing against the flesh in small, circular motions.
The reaction is immediate; Jungkook's hips shift in place and he hurries to gulp in air as if short of breath.
Jimin chuckles, drawing back and giving you more room for maneuver.
You brace your hands over his chest for stability as you scoot your body closer to his. It takes a lot of effort to keep your hands still, to curb your desire to familiarize yourself with his exposed body. Jungkook watches you closely, lip drawn between his teeth, trying to guess your next move.
Slowly - not wanting to startle him - you dip your head down, your hot breath fanning his nipple. You press your lips down once, testing the waters, your gaze trained on his face. When he doesn’t show any visible signs of protest or discomfort, you run your tongue across the skin, letting it drag over his bud.
His skin is hot and firm under your tongue. It’s also surprisingly smooth to the touch, making the glide of your tongue all the more easy.
Jungkook twitches under you, his reactions impossible to suppress.
You know the feeling, all the times Jimin had played with you coming to mind. It’s easy to coax reactions from the man layer underneath you when all you have to do is imitate the techniques your boyfriend spent months perfecting. You try to remember what gets you riled up the most, adding teeth into the mix.
A pleased hum leaves your lips when a whimper falls from his lips. You work harder to elicit the same sounds, needing the confirmation of a job well done. Jungkook? He doesn’t disappoint; a string of muffled groans and breathy sighs are added to the mix - a sweet tune of high and low notes.
Jimin moves around, settling behind you. You pause, alert, but the smack he delivers against the side of your thigh jolts you back into action. You’re all too aware of the slow slide of your panties down your legs. Jimin’s palms massage the meat of your cheeks, spreading them out so that he can get a good view of your sopping center.
“Shit, you’re soaking.” Jimin hisses from behind you, his fingers delving between your legs. “You’ve made a mess.”
Now that he’s pointed it out, it’s impossible to ignore the throbbing heat at the apex of your thighs. Your hips buck involuntarily as he swipes a finger through your folds, the stickiness of your arousal coating his digit. He repeats the motion a few times, making sure his fingers are thoroughly covered, almost dripping. He then makes his was up the bed until he reaches the headboard.
“Open up.” He holds his hand up to Jungkook’s parted mouth, the sheen of your arousal catching the light. Jungkook gulps audibly, his disbelieving eyes riveted on the outstretched digits.
“Let hyung show you what a good slut tastes like.”
Jungkook’s eyes bulge and he looks at you to make sure you’re alright with the word. When you nod encouragingly, he opens his mouth up further, letting Jimin guide his fingers into his mouth.
It must be an instinctive reaction - the way he wraps his mouth around the two fingers and suckles. Jungkook’s eyes flutter close, the taste of you heavy on his tongue. He becomes greedy for it, his cheeks hollowing as he tries to get every drop that he can. It would be a lie to say the sight of Jungkook getting lost in the taste of you isn’t arousing. You can feel more arousal drip down before you can clench down your muscles to keep yourself from making a bigger mess.
Jimin keeps them inside until he’s sure that his digits are sucked dry. When he pulls off, it’s messy; strings of saliva connect his fingers to Jungkook’s mouth, dripping down the corners of his mouth and chin.
“Tastes good, yeah?” Jimin pats Jungkook’s cheeks, his thumb spreading the saliva around.
“Y-yeah,” he sounds content, if a little fucked out. His pupils are blown to black, revealing his arousal.
“What would you do to taste it from the source? Hmm?” suggests Jimin.
Jungkook’s eyes widen at the thought, his answer immediate. “Anything!”
“Anything?” Jimin laughs, loud and mocking. “Those are big words for someone tied up.”
“If you untie me—”
“No,” he says at once, dismissing the thought. Jungkook wilts under the intensity of his stare, giving up without much fight. “You haven’t earned it yet.”
Sensing the disappointment bleed off Jungkook’s frame, the corner of Jimin’s lips quirk into a smile. “I’ll tell you what. Do you want to see how wet she gets when you play with her just right?”
Jungkook nods enthusiastically, all previous reservations gone.
Jimin makes his way back to your side and you sit back on your haunches, body vibrating with desire. “Open your legs. Give him a nice view of your cunt.”
You almost shudder with anticipation, your knees knocking in their haste to comply. Not wanting to give them an obstructed view, you hold your pussy open with your fingers. You’re so wet that your fingers slip a few times, sliding over your folds.
In the back of your mind, you can’t believe you’re letting Jungkook, of all people, see you this way - lewd and unabashed.
Jungkook doesn’t bother silencing his groan, eyes firmly fixed on the sight in front of him. He swallows audibly - and if his dick wasn’t hard before, it sure is now.
“See how drenched she is?” Jimin muses, a pleased expression painting his face. “Such a cute little slut I’ve got on my hands. She’s always soaked for me, always hungry for cock, isn’t that right?”
You’re not too sure who the question is directed at, but you nod anyway. It’s not like he’s wrong - you’ve been craving his dick for a month. This foreplay is nice and all, but you’re just about dying from the lack of attention.
Jimin reaches over to flick Jungkook’s nipple. He flinches from the touch, his whine resounding in the otherwise silent room.
“Wanna give her yours, Kookie? She’s so cock-hungry she’ll take it from anyone.”
Jungkook wiggles his hips in response, too fucked out to string together a proper sentence. You feel a little bad for him... He probably thinks Jimin will let him cum right away... Knowing your boyfriend, he might not let Jungkook near your mouth at all. Well. Jungkook had all the time to learn.
You unzip his jeans, not bothering to slide them completely off. It feels strange to have another dick in your hands, when you’ve grown so accustomed to your boyfriend’s. You can’t help but compare the size and girth, how different it looks and feels pressed up in your hands.
Jungkook has a pretty dick. It rests up against his stomach nicely.
Maybe it’s because you’ve been Dick Deprived, but your mouth waters a little. You’re tempted to sneak in a taste, just wanting to feel the weight of a cock on your tongue again.
Fueled by these desires, you wrap your palm around his length. Jungkook shivers under you, his dick hot and throbbing in your hand. You lean forward and spit, the saliva drooling onto the head of his dick. You use the extra fluid as lube, his precum soon being added into the mix. The slick sounds sound particularly loud and each twist of your wrist extracting needy moans from Jungkook’s mouth. The cacophony of lewd noises only heighten your need for release.
Jimin observes all of this with a watchful eye, the sight affecting him more than he’s willing to admit.
Jungkook struggles to speak, trying to warn you of his impending orgasm, but he only manages to get out high-pitched whimpers. Suddenly, he cums, taking you by surprise, painting his stomach in streaks of white. Head tipped back, he lets out a drawn out groan, his chest flushed red.
Your thighs squeeze together at the debauched sight. You’d really appreciate if Jimin’s dick could enter you...right about...now. You’re so horny that if you had balls they would have fallen off ages ago.
“Clean it up,” Jimin punctuates his command with a sharp slap. The skin of your ass tingles where his palm connects, pleasure sparking up inside of you. “I know you’ve been waiting all night to get your hands on his abs.”
You fall forward, elbows keeping you propped up, and lick a stripe down his stomach. Jungkook tenses up beneath you, his abs becoming all the more visible to the naked eye. You continue licking the skin in measured strokes, the taste of his cum filling your mouth with every swipe of your tongue. It’s different from Jimin’s, but not altogether unpleasant.
“Fuck.” His hips jerk forward, lifting off from the mattress as you mouth the head of his dick. He curses, torn between wanting to chase the heat of your mouth and pulling away, still too sensitive from his recent orgasm. “Oh shit...”
It’s when you drag your muscle over a vein running down his shaft, that Jimin chooses to push his hardened length into you.
You choke down a moan, the sound barely muffled by the dick near your mouth.
The slide of his erection against your inner walls is made easy by the copious amount of slick that’s amassed between your legs. Jimin has self-control, but he’s also human. The weeks of pent up arousal bubble to a boil, and his hips snap harshly against the cushion of your ass, burying himself to the hilt.
“Fucking fuck,” his breath comes out harshly as he struggles to regain composure. “Fuck, I missed this.”
The quip comes out before you can stop it, “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”
Laughter tumbles from his mouth, the short moment of reprieve giving you time to adjust to the girth you had missed so much. There are no words to describe how satisfied you feel right now, your walls clenching around him as you try to keep him buried there forever.
You know it’s illogical, probably just a product of the month long Dick Diet, but he feels bigger than before. In fact, he fills you up so good that you feel like you’re two seconds away from bursting.
Jungkook whines at the sight of you getting fucked open, his neck craning to get a better look. You kind of feel self-conscious, knowing that he’s able to see your every expression, catch every stutter of breathing as Jimin plows into you from behind.
Those feelings are quickly wiped clear, the first roll of Jimin’s hips against yours robbing you of breath. Nothing matters anymore but his dick. Your world now revolves around it.
Jungkook looks equally overwhelmed - his eyes not knowing where to settle. He watches your breasts move with every thrust before looking back to admire the expression of rapture on his hyung’s face. Jimin looks so far gone - nothing like the facial expressions he practices for stage - that Jungkook can’t help but wonder how good your slutty pussy feels like. His dick twitches in interest, slowly coming back to much.
“You’re so tight, fuuuck,” Jimin swears you’ve gotten tighter, your walls threatening to suffocate him. He knew he wouldn’t last very long - not when he hasn’t had sex in this long - but he doesn’t expect himself to ejaculate so quickly. It’s a bit embarrassing, especially with Jungkook watching - but then again... Jungkook hadn’t held up much better and his dick had been untouched by your sweet cunt the entire time.
He decides fuck it, and decides to just go for it.
The pace of his thrusts speeds up, his hips snapping against your ass with every push and pull. The muscles in his jaw clench tight as he grinds his teeth together, sweat beading his brow as he races to completion. You, too, are lost in the pleasure. You’re suffocated by the heady smell of sweat and cum, by the sound of skin slapping together, moans tearing from your throat as you feel yourself nearing the edge.
For the past month, this is all you’ve dreamed of and more. Now that you finally have it, you don’t want it to end. You’re scare that once it does, you’ll never find pleasure this satisfying again.
Maybe Jimin can feel your reticence because he leans over, draping his body over yours. The slight shift in positions forces his cock deeper into you and you stutter, the sound splintered with hunger. Jimin has always known your body better than you know it yourself. He sucks down on the skin near your neck, aiming for a sensitive spot, and shoves a hand where you’re intimately connected.
“Get my cock wet, c’mon,” he urges, voice so low it comes off as a growl.
He gives you a few harsh flicks, his fingers rubbing against your swollen clit until you cry out, raw and unfiltered. It feels like you’ve been snapped in half - your back arches against his chest, hips pushing up against his as you lose yourself to the pleasure that washes over you.
Your orgasm is long overdue. Your body seems to sense that too, making up for all those orgasms lost. Pleasure wracks your frame, shaking you to the core. The tremors last longer than what you’re used to and only Jimin’s hands on your hips keep you physically grounded to reality.
Jimin rolls his hips into yours slowly, fucking you through your orgasm. It’s only once you whine out in overstimulation that he pulls out, throbbing dick coated in your fluids.
“Get on your knees,” he grunts, his fist pumping his leaking shaft as he waits for you to get into position.
You force your fucked out limbs into motion, your mouth automatically dropping open to receive his cum. The sight of Jimin standing over you, dick in hand, is almost enough to make you cum again. He looks so hot like this - chest glistening with perspiration, the dark of his irises translating his desperation.
The slick noises of his hand working over his dick make shivers run down your back. You stick out your tongue, eager to taste him, too.
It’s this visual - of you on your knees, the corners of your lips smeared in dried cum, skin flush with arousal, mouth wide open for him - that pushes him over the edge. He spills his seed onto your face, letting out a low, almost inaudible, growl. It dribbles down your chest, coating your skin in white.
His knees then give out and he face-plants onto the mattress, somehow managing to look graceful as he falls down. You lay down by his side, watching his chest rise and fall as he slowly evens out his breathing. Jimin turns to face you, his hand outstretched to caress your face.
“I love you.” Jimin mumbles in the afterglow, loud enough for you to pick up.
You beam, sitting up to slant your lips against his.
“Eh,” he wets his lips after pulling back to catch his breath. “You kind of taste like cum.”
“How would you know what cum tastes like, hm?” You ask suspiciously, head tilted to the side as you wait for an answer.
“Um. Not to, uh, intrude b-but... Can someone untie me?” Jungkook squeaks and you suddenly remember his presence. “My arms are killing me.”
.
.
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a/n: “i’ll never write a jk fic again” and yet here i am dfkldjfdj. happy belated birthday amanda, my favorite nipple lover ;;; this took 10 and a half years to finish but i hope it’s okay !!! as per usual, my drabbles tend to go overboard...
also this is just mentioned in passing, but the reader’s work problems are a direct reference to kr’s hidden camera problem. i imagine reader would’ve taken part of the recent demonstration for equal justice for internet sex crimes !!
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