#shout out to Kitty Gang Jimin

[katalytic]

Another new job in FFXIV (black mage), another new outfit -- this one inspired by Kitty Gang Jimin. Honestly, I've wanted to try putting together this outfit for a while, but no job really said "yes this outfit would be perfect" until black mage came along

btw black mage is probably the most audibly satisfying job I've tried yet -- the giant fire/ice sounds? 🤩

[theharrowing]

Denim & Strawberry

When Yoongi gets invited to watch his crush perform, he has no idea what to expect. Jimin stripping on stage and singing a sultry little number while tugging on his hair is definitely not what Yoongi had in mind, but who is he to complain?

"You could have just asked me out," Yoongi teases, raising his drink to his lips before adding, "no need to put on a whole show." Jimin's mouth falls open again, and he steps close, leaning to speak into Yoongi's ear. "Ah, but you liked the show, didn't you hyung?"

🍓 Yoongi x Jimin

🍓 word count: 19.6k 🙈

🍓 friends to lovers, burlesque au, porn without plot, tooth-rotting fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

🍓 warnings: top yoongi, bottom jimin. jimin has pink hair and yoongi has a half-up top-knot. this is more or less porn with very little plot. recreational drug use (weed smoking.) jimin performing burlesque and singing while being a flirt. light hair pulling. the burgundy suit from jimin's filter performance, and his kitty gang jacket, and cute lingerie. a hint of jealous/possessive behavior. bickering as a form of flirting. the tiniest hint of sub/dom vibes. safe word establishment. teasing & light humiliation. a little begging. use of good boy and slutty. jimin is shy at times but also a brat and yoongi fights the urge to tame him. a lot of drool, spit, lube, and cum. dirty talk. so much god damn praising. anal (plug, play, eating, fingering, sex.) messy blow job. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. yoongi loves to discuss boundaries & check in. lots of heaven/angel comparisons but only because yoongi is a sucker for how ethereal jimin is (it's not that deep.) too many positions (what was i thinking???) subspace. mating press. cock-warming. after care. tooth-rotting fluff.

🍓 note: a yoonmin fic + jimin doing burlesque was some brainrot shared between @echotoyou and i that i decided to write when their birthday was approaching. but then the big day came and went, and i lost control of this beast for a very long time. she is finally ready hehe. i hope you all (but especially mg!) enjoy!!! finally my years of being a photographer for a burlesque troupe and dating a performer have come in handy for my writing lolol.

🍓 listen along: 🎵 streets by doja cat & yeah, i said it by rhianna (thank you to @sailoryooons for these song choices!!!)

🍓 beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🍓 posted august 2023 | read on ao3

Yoongi pats his pockets down one last time, fingertips tentatively grazing lumps beneath denim. Phone…wallet…keys. That's everything. He presses the lock button on his open car door, then closes it. In his pocket, his phone buzzes. 

Namjoon Hyung, are you close?

Yoongi Just parked.

Namjoon  Okay, good. Just making sure you don’t miss anything. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes but smiles. He has no idea what to expect – nobody has told him much – but Jimin did say, over and over again, that it was fine if he could not make it. That he would be thrilled if Yoongi could come but understood if he could not. That there would be other shows. 

But of course, Yoongi did everything in his power to make it. This is Jimin, after all.  

He slides his hands into the pockets of his black denim jacket and moseys from the small parking lot to the sidewalk and around the corner. There is a small congregation of people smoking and loitering outside, under a bright red neon sign that reads Paradise. Yoongi has never been to this bar before – tends to avoid spots on this side of town because it is more popular with college kids, and therefore, the drinks are overpriced. 

Everyone outside is done up in some flashy way, wearing sequins and fishnets, glittering eye makeup, and patent leather. Yoongi feels underdressed, wearing a black band tee tucked into black skinny jeans, with a black jacket and black work boots, and he awkwardly runs a hand through his dark, wavy, unstyled, and overgrown hair. 

"Yoongi!" a familiar voice shouts, and he looks up in time to find his friend Jeongguk waving him over, past the closest group of smokers. 

Even his friends are all dressed up, with sparkly eye glitter and tight, colorful clothing. Hoseok and Jeongguk are in mesh, Taehyung has a burgundy feather boa, and Seokjin and Namjoon are both wearing leather pants. Since when did the two of them own leather pants?

"Ya, you're dressed like a scrub!" Seokjin shouts, making Yoongi's cheeks warm in an instant.

"Nobody told you a single thing about the event tonight, did they?" Namjoon asks sympathetically.

Yoongi shrugs, mutters, "No," and digs his hands further into his pockets. 

Taehyung approaches, using his pinkies to brush the hair away from Yoongi's face, cradling a pot of light blue glitter between his fingers. "He probably wanted it to be a surprise," he mutters lowly, unscrewing the pot. "Don't let them make you feel self-conscious."

"I don't," Yoongi responds softly, feeling incredibly self-conscious. He stands still while Taehyung dabs his fingertip into the glitter and allows him to smudge it around his eyes. In the early days of their friendship, Yoongi probably would have fussed, but these days, he lets the youngest two – Taehyung and Jeongguk – do whatever they want.

Jeongguk approaches, unscrewing a stick of pink, shiny lip gloss, and Yoongi huffs out a sigh but stands as still as he can while Jeongguk applies it. "Should put your hair into a bun or something," he mutters before he and Taehyung trade places so Taehyung can smudge blue glitter onto his other eye. 

"Your hair is really pretty, hyung," Taehyung adds, screwing the top of the glitter pot back on and sliding it into his very tight white slacks. "You should let me style it."

"Don't we have to go inside?" Yoongi asks.

"We'll head in when the emcee comes on," Hoseok responds, approaching with a mischievous smile. Without asking, he grabs Yoongi's right arm and pulls at the black hair tie that he always keeps on his wrist, then begins separating the top half of Yoongi's hair and making a bun on the top. "Jimin goes on third or fourth."

"What is he doing tonight, again?" Yoongi asks, throwing in the again to make it seem like he may have been privy to information in the past, in case it makes one of them divulge even a crumb of information. 

"A little singing," Hoseok mutters, grinning. "You know how it is."

"I literally do not know how it is," Yoongi responds, finally becoming impatient with his friends touching and fixing him. 

"You'll see, hyung," Hoseok says as he takes a step back, inspects his handy work, and nods.

Taehyung returns with a knit brow and reaches up to fix Yoongi's glittery makeup, which he allows for a moment before swatting him away, grumbling, "Okay, enough."

"Alright, grumpy cat," Namjoon teases, then passes him a freshly lit joint. "Here."

Yoongi reaches for the joint and takes a hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs before tilting his head upward and releasing it. Then he holds out his hand for the next person to take it, and rolls his shoulders back. 

"What kind of song is Jimin singing?" Yoongi half-mutters, expecting next to nothing in response. 

Taehyung simply says, "You'll see, hyung,"  with a wink. 

“Is it an original song?” Yoongi tries. He can’t remember Jimin ever talking about songwriting, but he wouldn’t put it past him; Jimin is full of surprises. 

The sound of someone shouting into a microphone can be heard, and Yoongi stands at attention, ready to go inside. He can hear people cheering and loud pop music playing. 

“Shall we?” Taehyung asks as he takes one last drag at the diminishing joint and hands it to Yoongi. 

Yoongi nods and takes another hit, cradling the tiny roached joint between his thumb and forefinger, then holds it out for the others, all of whom hold their hands up and shake their heads. With one last puff, Yoongi flicks it into the street, then shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets. 

“Is Jimin part of the opening act?” Yoongi asks, and Seokjin snickers. 

“He’s one of the main acts,” Namjoon supplies unhelpfully. 

So he must be headlining, Yoongi assumes. 

“Hyung is so unobservant when he’s nervous,” Jeongguk teases, and Taehyung chuckles along with him. 

“I’m not nervous,” Yoongi grumbles.

He glances around and sees flyers for various events taped to the windows for drag and burlesque shows, and a few for various bands, none of which shows any images of Jimin, or any other performers he has ever seen before. In his pockets, his hands prickle with sweat, and he imagines what kind of instrument Jimin might play. Or maybe he only sings. 

Jimin is a somewhat new addition to their friend group, brought in by Taehyung and Hoseok; they all work together. To say Yoongi is smitten would be the understatement of the century. And although Yoongi thinks Jimin may also be interested in him, they have not spoken too much about anything outside of college and work, only seeing one another as part of the larger friend group.

As a major in theater arts with a minor in dance, Jimin works at a local studio teaching children tap and ballet as an assistant to Hoseok. Occasionally, Taehyung substitutes for the older lady who plays piano for the classes. It was natural for them to come together, all close in age, with Hoseok only a year older than the other two.

When Jimin invited Yoongi to come watch him perform, they were all tipsy from one too many bottles of soju. Jeongguk was the last in their friend group to graduate college, and they were all celebrating with drinks and fried chicken. 

Even then, when Yoongi asked what kind of show it was, everyone was giggly and secretive. From that moment, he got the feeling that Jimin was definitely flirting with him, with the way his gaze lingered, lips curled into a smile long after Yoongi made him laugh. The more Jimin insisted Yoongi needed to just go and experience the event first-hand, nibbling on his pillowy lip with a somewhat shy, rosy-cheeked grin, Yoongi felt eager to do anything he wanted him to. 

“Of course, I’ll be there,” Yoongi promised, and he meant it. 

The cheers inside grow louder, and Taehyung takes up the lead, stepping into the bar. Namjoon slings an arm over Yoongi’s shoulder and gently shoves him along with the group. Yoongi reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, but Taehyung mutters something to the door guy, who looks at a list of names and then waves the six of them inside. 

Taehyung leads them down a short hallway, into the bar. A long counter lines the left wall, with patrons leaning against it both to order drinks, and to chat with one another. Past the bar top, at the end of the venue, is a stage, and on stage is a woman lip-synching to some upbeat pop song while waving big white feather fans in front of her, enticing the audience to want to see what the fans are covering. 

Yoongi has seen clips of performances like this but has never attended this type of show before, and his gaze lingers on the woman, who winks and blows kisses to cheering audience members before Namjoon leads him over to get a drink. 

The music is loud and a little tackier than Yoongi’s usual taste, but the bass line thrums through the speakers straight into his bloodstream, building his nervousness to see Jimin, egged on by feeling somewhat high. He wonders what kind of performance Jimin might put on at an event like this, and he cannot imagine what it could be. 

“Hyung?” Taehyung asks, tilting his head toward the waiting tender. “First one is on me.”

What he would like is a nice scotch neat, but since Taehyung is paying, he finds a mid-tier whiskey and gets it with a spritz of soda water. The others order, and by the time they step away from the bar, the woman’s song is at its climax, and she is topless, wearing lacy red underwear and bouncing in a way that spins the red tassel pasties on her breasts in a circle. The action makes him chuckle, and when she bows and leaves the stage, he claps his fingers against the back of the hand holding his drink. 

“Burlesque, huh?” Yoongi asks, turning to Namjoon while a man in drag takes the stage. 

Namjoon waggles his eyebrows while taking a sip from the bright blue concoction in his hands. 

“Is Jimin also doing burlesque?” Yoongi asks, earning him a shrug. 

Yoongi decides to just stop asking. Clearly, his friends are determined to be completely useless. 

Although there is a decent crowd in the bar, most people are mingling about, watching the stage from a distance, or whispering amongst themselves. The emcee introduces another act and leaves the stage, replaced by a person with a very nicely manicured mustache and beard wearing a big orange wig and vintage blue dress. They prance around the stage, lip-synching to a silly pop song that Yoongi has never heard before, winning cheers and applause from the crowd.

Yoongi wonders if Jimin will also come out in drag, and what kind of a gimmick he might have. Would he wear a dress? High heels? A wig? Yoongi imagines Jimin with the bright, exaggerated makeup on and smiles to himself; he bets Jimin would look really pretty. 

Taehyung leads the group toward the stage, taking his place just left of the center. The others file in behind him, with Yoongi keeping some distance from the very front. The performer comes by, lip-synching to Taehyung, who pulls some money from his pocket and holds it up while the performer bends and offers their cleavage for him to slide the notes into. 

"I don't have any cash," Yoongi grumbles toward Taehyung when the song ends and the performer exits. "Will I need any for Jimin?"

"I got you," Taehyung responds, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of notes, shoving them into Yoongi's empty hand before he has a chance to protest. 

Yoongi attempts to straighten out the notes while holding onto his drink. Meanwhile, the emcee returns to the stage. 

"Our next performer is a fan favorite," the emcee says with an exaggerated waggle of their eyebrows. Around them, the crowd becomes dense, with someone bumping shoulders and elbows into Yoongi as they get close to the stage. The emcee continues, "A man who needs no introduction because, let's be honest, you're all here to see him…Jimin."

The stage lights go out, and there is some movement – a person carrying items, as well as the light clacking of heels on the wooden stage. Yoongi's heart goes wild in his chest, and he lifts his drink to his lips, watching ahead for more movement in the dark, eager to not miss a thing when the lights come back on.

A red glow illuminates the back edge of the stage, showing the silhouette of Jimin sitting on what looks like a standard black folding chair. He is sideways on the chair with one leg crossed over the other, his arm draped over the back of the chair, and his head tilted back. He appears to be wearing a jacket and slacks, but it is hard to tell. 

Also on the stage is a tall, wooden coat rack, and hanging from it appears to be a short mesh robe with fur trim along the sleeves and bottom hem. 

Beside Yoongi, a man loudly whispers, "I fucking love Jimin; just wait," to someone else, and Yoongi shifts a little on his feet with anticipation and something like envy stirring in his guts. 

A yellow spotlight comes on, shining on Jimin. He wears a fitted burgundy suit and black leather boots with a heel and pointed toe. His light pink hair is styled off his forehead, and he appears to be wearing makeup around his eyes, but it is hard to clearly see. In his hand, which is draped over his knee, is a burgundy wide-brimmed hat. 

A familiar oldie comes on, a pop track from the 1950s, and Jimin slowly uncrosses his legs and places both feet on the floor. Female voices sing sweetly before Paul Anka's voice croons, "Put your head on my shoulder."

Only, before the sentence is finished, the song abruptly changes to a sexy R&B track with a trap beat. In that moment, the yellow spotlights turn red, the hat is dropped to the floor, and Jimin's hands are on the chair, supporting his weight as his body bows upward. Briefly, Yoongi thinks he recognizes the song from a bunch of tiktoks Hoseok has made him watch. 

The crowd cheers as Jimin rolls his body, then sits and rotates, facing the audience and spreading his legs. A woman's voice comes through, singing, "Like you…like you…like you…I find it hard to find someone like you," while Jimin rolls his shoulders and hips to the song, leaning forward and then back, holding onto this chair as he lifts his hips and lolls his head.

Yoongi is stunned, gripping onto his drink while he watches Jimin stand, spin the chair around and sit once more with his back to the audience and head tipped back while his hands rove over his body. His fingertips lift and fall to the rhythm of the song while they work their way down, down, down Jimin's body, difficult to clearly see and stirring up so many mental images. 

Jimin's shoulders and hips sway while his hands disappear, and then he pulls open the burgundy jacket. Everyone around him roars excitedly, cheering and applauding. Jimin holds onto the lapels and turns his head, teasing the audience with his opened jacket before he stands and lets the garment slip down past his shoulders, revealing a matching burgundy button-up that is tucked into his matching slacks and clings tightly to his arms and waist.

With a slow, deep swish of his hips, Jimin faces the audience and begins to rip the dress shirt open from the collar, sending buttons skittering across the stage, earning him whoops and shouts. With a strip of skin exposed, he walks over to the coat rack, turns it in a circle, and dips it as if he were dancing with a person, causing the mesh robe hanging from it to sway.

Each movement of Jimin's body is fluid, clothing clinging to his torso and thighs in a way that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. He wears tighter clothing sometimes when they all hang out, but this is the first time Yoongi has really allowed himself to look.

For just a split second, while Jimin is holding the coat rack as if he is cradling the back and neck of a person and lip-synching to the song, it seems like he makes eye contact with Yoongi, causing Yoongi to hold his breath and heavy-blink through the well of excitement and shyness that he feels. It almost looks as if the edges of Jimin's lips lift ever so slightly, but then he releases the rack and spins away from it, swishing his hips as he dips down low and continues to rip open and untuck the button-up shirt with his eyelids fluttering closed. 

Yoongi practically forgets there is a song playing, focused so intently on Jimin, that when the singer begins to rap – quick and raspy – matched by Jimin's movements of tearing away the garment and revealing a bare torso with little light-colored heart pasties on his nipples, Yoongi sucks in a gasp that gets caught in his throat, nearly making him choke. Jimin’s bare chest and abdominals are chiseled – carved from the finest clay with careful hands. Yoongi lifts his drink quickly, taking a gulp of bitter whiskey and soda water while the crowd goes wild. 

In a swift movement, the pants are torn away from Jimin's waist, revealing long, muscular legs and shiny briefs that match the pasties. Jimin sinks into a squat, rubbing his hands over his legs. Then he sits and lifts one of his legs into a high split, giving Yoongi a very clear eyeful of a bulge and taut thigh muscle, making his mouth fall open. 

Jimin unzips the boot from the foot suspended in the air and tosses it aside, then drops his leg down and sweeps his other leg out in a half-squat, half-split while he drags his hands down the length of his leg to the other boot, unzips it, and tosses it near the other one. 

He spins, gets onto his knees, which are spread, and rolls his hips, lifting and dropping his ass while his hands rove up to his neck and hair, and his head lolls back. All he wears is shiny briefs and pasties, making Yoongi feel more intoxicated than the glass of whiskey ever could. 

The group to Yoongi's right is particularly loud, cheering for Jimin and shouting things like, "That's it, baby, show us how you ride it!" making a shiver run along Yoongi's spine. The objectification makes him feel uncomfortable, but he wonders whether Jimin cares, considering he clearly enjoys stripping for an audience; maybe that is all part of the thrill. Yoongi can't say he blames him. 

The song fades out as Jimin gets onto his hands and knees and crawls over to the coat rack, then slowly gets to his feet. As the music ends, the red lights fade to regular spotlights, revealing the briefs, pasties, and mesh robe – which Jimin pulls from the rack and begins to put on – are all a light pink color that matches his hair. 

Jimin ties the robe with a cord around his waist, standing barefoot while looking out at the crowd with a soft smile. The audience roars with applause and praise, and Yoongi expects Jimin's performance to be over, but then a stagehand in all black runs out, collects the discarded clothing while another sweeps a large broom across the floor to kick away loose buttons, and he hands Jimin a microphone that has been covered in light pink rhinestones. 

Once the men wearing black disappear behind tall curtains, a new song begins, also a slow R&B track, and Jimin lifts the microphone and starts singing, slowly swaying his hips and approaching the front of the stage. 

Yeah, yeah…yeah, yeah… I ain't tryna think about it, no

Taehyung takes a step back, wraps his arm around Yoongi's waist, and pulls him closer to the stage, causing Yoongi to fumble as Jimin approaches. He stands still as a statue with his hands in front of his chest – wad of notes that Taehyung gave him wedged between two fingers while both hands grip tight to his cold, condensation-covered glass of whiskey and soda water. 

Jimin's eyes find Yoongi, and he smiles, tilting his head sweetly to the side. To his right, the guys who had been cheering loudly try to close in and reach forward, but Jimin ignores them, looming over Yoongi while he sings in a soft, sweet voice, delivering lyrics that have Yoongi's cheeks absolutely burning. 

Yeah, I said it, boy, get up inside itI want you to homicide it

As Jimin lifts a hand and reaches out, Yoongi steps forward instinctively, knocking the toe of his boot into the front of the wooden stage, head tilted upward with his eyes never leaving Jimin's face. Around him, hands reach out with money, and some even toss notes to the stage, but Jimin ignores all of it. 

Go in slow, but I want you to pipe it And I think I kinda like ya Up against the wall, we don't need a title

But Jimin does take the wad of notes that stick out from between Yoongi's fingers, tugging them right out of his weak grasp, and he snakes his hand under the robe and tucks it into the side of his little pink briefs, making Yoongi breathe out a soft chuckle. 

Beside him, the guy who seems intent on getting Jimin's attention mutters, "Who the fuck is this guy?" just loud enough that Yoongi can hear him, and pride begins to burn behind his ribs. 

Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it, man, fuck a title

Gently, Jimin reaches out toward Yoongi's head, eyes widening and brows slightly lifting as if asking for permission, and Yoongi nods while letting out a shaky breath. Fingers delicately push into his hair, tugging on strands as Jimin takes a handful and releases it, pulling away while dragging his fingertips against Yoongi's cheek. Even the gentlest touch feels electric, and Yoongi sways slightly forward when Jimin's hand drops away. 

Boy, I always like to show Get a little bit, come a little close, now

Arousal builds, and Yoongi feels a bit ashamed considering he and Jimin are friends, and Jimin is hardly touching him in a way that should warrant blood rushing to his dick. But Jimin looks like pure sin wrapped in inviting pink, and the way he stares at Yoongi is playful in a way he has never seen him look. 

Take it home on your camera phone Get a little bad, watch me blow it down

Jimin sinks to his knees, still taller than Yoongi but closer to eye level. With one hand, Jimin reaches for Yoongi's drink, then he has a sip of it and sets it down on the stage. Yoongi's hand stays in the same shape as if the glass had never been removed, and he is not sure what is sexier, the fact that Jimin takes the glass straight from his hand, or that he doesn't even flinch after essentially drinking carbonated whiskey.

Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it… Ooh

With a smirk, Jimin slinks to the very edge of the stage, knees practically bumping into Yoongi's hips. He slips his microphone into Yoongi's hand and lifts it until Yoongi has it in front of his face, as if he is supposed to sing the next line, and then he drapes his arms over Yoongi's shoulders, leans in, and continues. 

Yeah, I said it… Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it… Ooh 

From this close, Yoongi can see a dusting of shimmery pink on Jimin's eyelids, which are lined in black. His lips are glossy, he smells like strawberries, and Yoongi feels stunned in place, questioning whether or not all of this is a dream. Could his friends have slipped something in the weed? Could he be hallucinating?

Jimin sings higher, each word more inviting than the last. 

You can be rough, boy, but you won't

One of Jimin's hands slides into Yoongi's hair, and starting from the nape of his neck, he takes a handful. Everyone in the bar fades away; as far as Yoongi is concerned, the only two people in the room are himself and the beauty before him. 

Yoongi wonders if this is how Jimin's performances typically go. Does he always pick someone from the audience to tease? Is he always this handsy?

Give me some love, boy, give it to me 'til the morn'

With a gentle tug at his hair, Yoongi practically whimpers, watching as Jimin's lips pull into a sweet, devious smile. Jimin holds onto Yoongi while swaying side to side, knees spreading wide as he dips low and closing as he sits a little higher. 

Jimin continues singing—

Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it…

—but he seems less focused on sounding good for the audience and more interested in gently tugging Yoongi's hair and making him gradually fall apart. Soon, he is no longer singing at all, and he releases Yoongi's hair and drags his hand around his neck, past his throat and chin, then up and away, making Yoongi lean forward as if pulled by an invisible string. 

Yoongi wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, and Jimin seems to follow the movement before gently tugging his microphone out of Yoongi's tight, sweaty grasp and getting to his feet. Only then, does Yoongi realize the music is fading out. Jimin does a cute little twirl and opens his arms wide, bowing as the audience erupts into cheers, leaving Yoongi too stunned to clap. 

The emcee returns to the stage to announce an intermission, and the house lights come on, brightening the space. The crowd thins, and Yoongi heavy-blinks as he takes in his surroundings and allows his soul to return to his body while Jimin prances away, glancing over his shoulder to wink at Yoongi before slipping behind the black curtain. 

Two large, warm hands crash into Yoongi's shoulders, and he jumps, sucks in a gasp, and turns to find Namjoon staring at him with a wide smile. 

"So?" he has the audacity to ask, and all Yoongi can do is scoff and shake his head incredulously. 

"So, what?" Yoongi responds, attempting to play it cool despite the way his heart hammers in his chest. 

"Was it life-changing?" Taehyung asks, and Yoongi turns to regard him before remembering his drink is still on the stage and spinning around to retrieve it. When he turns back to his friends, he finds five sets of eager eyes watching him, as well as the stares of strangers, and he ducks his head and gulps down half of his drink. 

"It was…" Yoongi begins, trailing off as he attempts to summarize what he just witnessed, blinking through mental image after mental image. "Unexpected," he finally says, lips involuntarily tugging to a smile, which he covers by slamming back the rest of his drink. 

"It sure was!" Hoseok says with wide eyes. "Jimin never comes to the edge of the stage like that. People always try to entice him, but he always plays hard to get."

"Oh," Yoongi mutters, letting the words sink in. 

"Another?" Jeongguk calls, holding an empty glass, and everyone nods. Hoseok and Taehyung finish their drinks in a gulp while they all turn and make their way to the end of the bar. 

As they stand and wait, Yoongi takes a look around the space. Everything is black and chrome and nothing too remarkable, but the place seems to have a chill vibe. And he is grateful to not be the only person wearing denim and a band tee – dressed like a scrub, as Seokjin so elegantly put it.

Taehyung and Jeongguk get drinks, then slink away from the bar to stand off to the side. Then Hoseok and Seokjin order, and finally, Namjoon. Yoongi steps up to the counter and decides to order the same thing he had before – whiskey and soda water. 

From beside him, a sweet, familiar voice shouts, "Make that two, please!"

The smell of strawberry perfume hits Yoongi's nose, and he turns to his left to find Jimin smiling widely at him. He wears a white tee tucked into tight, black leather pants, and a black leather bomber jacket with a feathery design embroidered in red and silver beads on the shoulders. 

Now that Jimin has touched him – tugged at his hair while looming over like a salacious little threat – Yoongi allows himself to stare a little without feeling the nervous urge to flit his gaze away. The longer he looks at Jimin, the wider Jimin's smile grows. 

"Hi, hyung," Jimin says, taking a step closer. 

"Hey, pretty," Yoongi responds, feeling self-conscious about his choice of words until he sees the way they make Jimin blush. Pretty, indeed. 

Two glasses thunk against the bar top, and Yoongi turns with a gasp, fishing for his wallet. 

"On the house," the bartender says, nodding at Jimin. 

"Oh," Yoongi mutters, "okay."

"I got the tip," Jimin says beside him, leaning into his personal space to hand a folded wad of notes to the bartender. Jimin adds, "Though, technically, you are paying for it, hyung," close to Yoongi's ear. 

"Taehyung is paying for it, actually," Yoongi responds with a smirk, turning to Jimin whose mouth falls agape, scandalized. Yoongi feels the need to defend himself, adding, "Hey, I didn't know what was going on, otherwise I would have come prepared!"

Yoongi picks up both drinks and hands one to Jimin, who responds, "Fair," through laughter as he grabs Yoongi by the bicep and pulls him away from the bar. 

Even through his denim sleeve, Yoongi feels a spark of electricity where Jimin touches him. He notices that Jimin has pulled him in the opposite direction of the rest of their friends and decides not to question it. When they find themselves against the wall in a somewhat dimly lit corner, Jimin's hand stays on Yoongi's arm, giving him a tentative squeeze, and Yoongi looks down at Jimin's hand and smiles before meeting his eye. 

"You could have just asked me out," Yoongi teases, raising his drink to his lips before adding, "no need to put on a whole show."

Jimin's mouth falls open again, and he steps close, leaning to speak into Yoongi's ear. "Ah, but you liked the show, didn't you hyung?"

Yoongi has a sip of his drink, then he hums as he nods and says, "I did like the show. Your voice is really beautiful."

"Just my voice?" Jimin asks, stepping so close, their shoulders touch. 

A chuckle rocks through Yoongi, and he tips his head toward Jimin, who takes a drink with wide, curious eyes. "Not just your voice, no. Everything about you is beautiful."

"Awe, hyung!" Jimin shouts, shoving playfully at Yoongi's shoulder and sending him crashing lightly into the wall. 

"Wow," Yoongi responds, snickering. "Last time I compliment a guy."

Jimin places his hand over the spot he shoved and rubs over it, radiating warmth through denim and cotton. He opens his mouth to respond when a small group of men approaches to tell Jimin he did a great job, and Yoongi recognizes one of their voices as the guy who stood beside him during the performance. Yoongi cocks an eyebrow as the man makes eye contact with him, lifting his free hand to place over Jimin's hand, which continues to mindlessly rub over his chest, just below his clavicle. 

"Thanks for coming to the show," Jimin mutters politely, turning back to Yoongi. 

The group hovers behind Jimin and Yoongi does his best to ignore them, but it feels awkward to have an audience now that Jimin is no longer performing. 

"We should finish these drinks and get out of here," Yoongi suggests loud enough for the others to hear him, letting his gaze lift to the group to see if they have. 

Jimin chuckles. "Hyung, are you being possessive right now?"

"Maybe," Yoongi responds, tonguing the inside of his cheek. "But if you want to stay while that desperate pack ogles you, by all means—"

Jimin slides his hand from Yoongi's weak grasp to give him another smack, this time on the arm. 

"God, you're hot when you're jealous," Jimin says, making Yoongi blush, "but I should stay until the end to support the other performers. There are only four more."

Yoongi nods and accepts Jimin's terms. He wants to clarify that his offer for Jimin to leave with him afterwards is genuine, but the house lights dim, and music plays through the speakers, signaling the return of the show. 

Jimin takes Yoongi's hand and pulls him toward the front of the stage, to where the rest of their friends have congregated. Namjoon looks down at their linked hands, then to Yoongi, and he winks, making Yoongi roll his eyes despite how nice it feels to be holding Jimin's hand in public. 

The rest of the show goes by in a haze. Yoongi is hardly aware of the performers, hearing a hint of a song here and seeing a whoosh of brightly colored fabric there. All he can focus on is Jimin’s hand in his, Jimin’s voice singing and cheering, Jimin's warmth emitting in welcoming bursts beside him. 

Whenever Jimin slips his hand away to clap for each performer, Yoongi follows suit, robotically tapping his fingertips to his glass. And when Jimin takes his hand again, everything blurs and slows down, drowned out by the thrumming of blood in Yoongi’s veins, every sense acutely aware of only Jimin’s proximity – soft and strawberry-tender.

Once the house lights come on again, signaling the end of the show, Yoongi downs the rest of his drink. He feels sluggish and heavy, stumbling slightly when Jimin yanks him over to their friends. He wonders if they will want to keep drinking, whether they will want to go to a new bar. He thinks he would be alright with going to another bar; he parked his car somewhere it can be left overnight. 

“Wanna get out of here, hyung?” Jimin asks sweetly in his ear, and Yoongi decides all at once that another bar is out of the question. 

“Yes,” Yoongi responds, turning to Jimin with a wide smile that may very well look too eager for his own good. 

Jimin chuckles, finishes his drink, and says, “Good,” before leading the way to the bar where their friends are gathering with empty glasses. 

Yoongi considers how to break the news; Taehyung and Jeongguk tend to be pretty clingy and weaponize pouts that even Yoongi struggles to defend against, while Hoseok is always eager to keep their hangouts going well into the early morning. 

“We’re gonna get out of here!” Jimin announces, gracefully stealing the words from his mouth before he can even begin to formulate them. 

Jimin begins to hug everyone before they have a chance to oppose, smacking kisses against their cheeks and thanking them for coming to watch him perform. Most of them seem too dazed to argue.

Yoongi waves to everyone, noticing as they all make some sort of wink or eyebrow waggle at him, then he turns wordlessly and allows himself to get dragged by the wrist through the space, past patrons who attempt to talk to Jimin, and out into the cool night air. 

Jimin slides his arm into the crook of Yoongi’s elbow and pulls him along the sidewalk. “I live close,” he says before Yoongi has a chance to ask where they are going. Not that he would protest against being taken anywhere Jimin wanted. 

“Did you like the performance?” Jimin asks, bumping his hip against Yoongi as they walk. 

“I told you I did,” Yoongi teases, turning to find Jimin smiling while looking ahead. 

Jimin’s side profile is all firm lines and glitter, softened when he turns to Yoongi with wide, round eyes and pillow lips. He is stunning, and Yoongi is relieved to be able to stare unabashedly. 

“You told me I was beautiful,” Jimin clarifies, raising his eyebrows before looking ahead. 

“You are,” Yoongi mutters, remembering the performance. “And your singing was really beautiful. And the…stripping…” he trails off, feeling nervous about his choice of words. 

But Jimin does not miss a beat. “You liked watching me strip, hmm?”

“Of course I did,” Yoongi mutters, blushing. 

He is tugged around a corner to the right where the streetlights are fewer and the world feels darker, quieter. 

“And my dancing?” Jimin asks, walking impossibly closer – the two of them somehow managing to not trip over one another. 

“I liked your dancing,” Yoongi responds softly, clearing his throat to speak louder. “Hoseok mentioned you never come to the edge of the stage like that.”

Jimin chuckles, and Yoongi glances to the side, catching his eye before they both look ahead. 

“I don’t. That was just for you. I had a couple surprises just for you.”

Yoongi hums questionably, and Jimin says, "There's still one more surprise, in fact."

“Wow,” Yoongi rasps, smiling, “guess I’m pretty special.”

Jimin stops in his tracks and turns, pulling Yoongi gently away from the sidewalk, onto a grassy area near where tall bushes line the outside of an apartment building. It is even darker, and even quieter, without another soul around as far as Yoongi can tell, and he allows Jimin to wrap his arms around his shoulders and pull him close enough that their lips nearly touch. 

“You are special,” Jimin responds with a smile, fingertips playing with Yoongi’s hair. “And you look so cute with your hair half up and your eyes covered in Taehyung’s favorite blue glitter. How could I keep my hands off you?”

“Your admirers seemed pretty jealous,” Yoongi teases as he wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist, holding him close. 

“Let them be,” Jimin mutters softly, ghosting warm breath over Yoongi’s lips, which he wets with the tip of his tongue in anticipation. “The only admirer I care about is you.”

Yoongi smiles, letting his mouth fall open to respond – to tell Jimin he does admire him, so much, in fact, that it makes him dizzy. But Jimin slots their lips together tentatively, hands cradling Yoongi’s neck and back, and Yoongi sinks into the feeling with a sigh, then gently sucks Jimin’s bottom lip into his mouth as his pulse quickens. 

Jimin’s mouth is warm and soft beyond Yoongi’s wildest dreams. Yoongi rubs his hands over Jimin’s lower back and tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss, licking over Jimin’s bottom lip until it falls open with a gasp, granting Yoongi entrance. 

With a slow graze of his tongue over Jimin’s, he feels Jimin tense and shiver in his hold, letting out a soft whine that has arousal crashing through Yoongi. Jimin whimpers, and all Yoongi can think about is the man on stage in his tight little briefs, and his trim, flexible body grinding and swaying so invitingly. 

Jimin breaks from the kiss, panting as he tips his mouth away but presses their foreheads together. Yoongi opens his eyes just enough to see Jimin smiling. 

“Let’s go inside,” Jimin mutters, sounding breathless, and he releases Yoongi from his hold and leads him up the short set of steps into the building they were just in front of. 

“Couldn’t wait two more minutes to get me inside?” Yoongi chides as Jimin tugs him by the wrist down a short hallway, to a door on the right. 

Jimin punches in the door code and steps inside the apartment, switching on a bright overhead light that makes the two of them squint. When Yoongi steps in and closes the door, Jimin has his hands on him, pressing him against the wall. 

“Are you always such a brat?” Jimin groans, crowding Yoongi’s space. 

Yoongi assists Jimin in being close by wrapping his arms around his waist. “I like to tease you,” he rasps, chuckling as Jimin rolls his eyes. 

“You were teasing me earlier,” Yoongi adds, sliding one hand up, over the scratchy embroidery of Jimin’s jacket until his hand is on the back of Jimin’s neck. “With your dancing…and your singing…and your hair-pulling.”

“I was being extra sexy once I saw you standing there,” Jimin says sweetly as he slots a leg between Yoongi’s thighs.

“Is that so?” Yoongi asks, tipping his head back against the wall so he can actually see the beauty before him. 

Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip and nods his head. “I don’t usually grind on the floor as much. And the little splits I did to take off my shoes was improvised.”

“I might need to see those moves again,” Yoongi mutters, closing the gap between their lips with a soft, chaste kiss.

Jimin sighs and sinks into Yoongi, stomach and chest flush with his. “I have a lot of moves I can show you, hyung,” he responds as he sucks Yoongi’s lip into his mouth hard enough to make Yoongi whimper. 

“So show me,” Yoongi practically whines as he licks eagerly over Jimin’s lips. 

Jimin heaves a breath and takes a step back, grabbing Yoongi’s hands as they slowly slide from their grasp, walking backward through his tidy apartment, smiling as he mutters, “I’ll show you.”

Abruptly, Jimin stops and shouts, “Wait!” shoving Yoongi backward. Yoongi is confused and cocks his head, allowing himself to be moved, fingers still laced with Jimin’s. 

“We have to take our boots off, silly,” Jimin says, unlinking their hands and pressing Yoongi against the wall once more. He leans against Yoongi's chest as he lifts each foot to slide out of his black Chelsea boots and socks, stepping a bit shorter than before. 

Once Jimin’s feet are free, he prances away with a giggle, and Yoongi opens his mouth to call after him, but shakes his head and chuckles instead as he bends and unties his boots, toeing out of each one. The sound of a faucet running cues Yoongi to where to go, and he walks through the living room, to the right, and finds Jimin standing in a small kitchen, drinking from a glass of water. 

“Thirsty, hyung?” Jimin asks, holding out the glass. 

Yoongi takes it and has a drink, then sets it on the counter, and says, “I’m not too thirsty…but I am quite hungry,” watching as Jimin begins to look around with a frown. 

“I don’t have much,” he says, “what are you hungry for?”

Yoongi wraps his hands around Jimin’s waist, rubbing both palms over his leather-clad ass. 

“You,” he rasps, earning him a groan and a weak smack on the arm. He pouts and adds, “Pretty please?” while batting his eyelashes, and Jimin takes his hand, leading him away. 

“Are we leaving every light in your apartment on?” Yoongi asks while Jimin drags him into a short hallway. 

With a huff, Jimin turns on the hallway light, then reaches into a semi-open door right in front of them and turns the light on, revealing a bathroom. 

“There!” Jimin says with an incredulous glare. “Are you happy, hyung?”

“No,” Yoongi grumbles. “Feels like a waste of electricity.”

“You’re infuriating,” Jimin complains as he shuts off the bathroom and hallway lights. He playfully shoves Yoongi away to storm off to the kitchen and living room, and Yoongi laughs to himself, over the moon with how easy Jimin is to rile up. 

When Jimin returns, he grips onto the sleeve of Yoongi's jacket and yanks him roughly down to the end of the short hallway, into a dark room. Yoongi is still laughing, muttering, "Whoa, easy, tiger," as he is pressed into another wall, body against body, with warm breath wafting over his face. 

"You'll just have to fuck me in the dark since you're so god damn annoying," Jimin huffs as two hands slide up Yoongi's neck, into his hair and grip tightly.

Yoongi reaches into Jimin's jacket, pushing material away as he grabs him by the waist. Then he twists the two of them, grinning to himself when Jimin huffs out a surprised, "Oof," from the impact of his back being pressed into the wall. 

He leans forward, grazing his nose against Jimin's nose as he says, "So you want me to fuck you, hmm?"

"I thought that was a given," Jimin responds, voice less confident than before – trembling, even.

Yoongi hums and noses at Jimin some more, flicking his tongue out and pleased when it grazes over soft lips. "Didn't want to assume," he responds lowly, licking over Jimin's lips once more. "I'm down for anything you want, pretty."

It feels almost frantic the way Jimin's lips crash into his, mouth kissing and nipping while hands shove away Yoongi's denim jacket, sending it to the floor in a heavy lump of fabric. Jimin's hands yank at Yoongi's shirt, pulling it untucked from his jeans, and Yoongi reaches down, gently taking him by the wrists to stop him. 

"Wanna see you," Yoongi says. "I take back what I said about the lights; turn them all on so I don't miss anything."

Jimin chuckles and pulls his hands away, then a rustling of fabric is followed by the bright flashlight of Jimin's phone coming on. 

"Compromise?" he suggests with a smile that Yoongi barely sees behind the bright white glow. "There's a lamp beside my bed. Be a good boy and turn it on for me?"

Despite the somewhat indignant scoff that rolls through Yoongi's chest and throat, he turns on his heels to make his way through the dark bedroom, determined to be a good boy, indeed. He watches his step, maneuvering around discarded clothing items in the white glow before reaching the bed and finding the lamp. 

It takes a few moments of him rubbing his hand over the post and then down to where a cord sticks out, but he finds the little plastic switch and presses it on. A soft, golden light fills the space, and when he spins back around, Jimin is in the center of the room with his jacket draped down past his shoulders. 

Jimin begins to saunter over, and Yoongi's brain kicks into gear, going haywire over what he should do – join Jimin and undress him, or sit down and find out whether Jimin feels like putting on another show for him. He opts to sit, but when he turns to make sure the bed is close enough, his knees bump into it, knocking him off balance, and he more or less crashes onto his butt against the mattress. 

"So eager," Jimin teases as he rubs his hands over his neck, up into his light pink hair, and back down. 

"For you?" Yoongi responds, raising his eyebrows and nodding toward Jimin, feeling zero embarrassment over his floundering. "Absolutely."

"What are you so eager for?" Jimin asks with a grin that grows into something as beautiful as it is dangerous. 

"You," Yoongi responds without thinking. "All of you."

Jimin giggles. "Be more specific, hyung."

"I want to watch you strip again," Yoongi says, swallowing a lump of excitement that builds and builds in his throat, threatening to suffocate. "I want to worship you."

With another giggle, Jimin begins to thumb through his phone. The sound of a bluetooth speaker connecting somewhere to the right chimes through the room, and Yoongi turns to glance around, noticing a desk, a dresser, and an open closet door. Garments are strewn about – mostly shirts, it seems – and the dresser appears to be covered in various makeup items, beauty tools, and accessories. 

Over the speaker, a sexy R&B track begins to play, and Yoongi turns his attention back to Jimin, who tosses his phone over to the bed, to the right of Yoongi, and begins to sway his hips. Earlier, when Jimin was on stage, Yoongi was awestruck and struggled to fully comprehend what was happening. Especially with others around him cheering and shouting for Jimin, it took time for everything to settle over him.

But sitting in this dim room, just the two of them, knowing the type of body that Jimin has under all that leather and cotton, Yoongi's desire and anticipation reach new heights, and he leans back with his palms spread against Jimin's pink and orange floral comforter while butterflies kick up in his stomach. He almost feels the urge to pinch himself, worried once more that he might be dreaming.

Jimin lets the jacket fall to his wrists, then he lifts one hand slowly, dragging the material upward with his wrist until it slides free and falls. He lifts his other hand straight out and tilts his wrist until the material slides and crumples to the floor, and although it is just outerwear and Jimin is still fully clothed, the seductive movements have Yoongi sitting wide-eyed and mouth agape – entranced.

Yoongi barely registers the song that is playing, but he does not need to. Jimin's shoulders and hips amplify its tune, turning it into something tangible – something he could reach out and feel. Slowly, Jimin turns, and, with his fingertips dancing over the material of his t-shirt, he begins to untuck it little by little. 

White cotton drags over muscular shoulders with every movement, while black leather hugs his ass and thighs tightly. Then Jimin does a cute turn and sways down, bending his knees before swishing back up while lifting his shirt over his tummy and up, up, almost to his chest before spinning again and looking over his shoulder, pretending to be shy. 

Yoongi scoffs and shakes his head, absolutely charmed by Jimin's little show, still toeing the line between playful and sexy as the shirt lifts over his head completely and Jimin tosses it over his shoulder, straight at Yoongi's face. Yoongi barely lifts his hands, allowing the fabric to gently clobber him in a wave of warm strawberry, and when it falls to his lap, he lazily takes it in one hand and holds onto it. 

"Still wearing those cute hearts?" Yoongi asks, and when Jimin mock-pouts and says, "Sorry, hyung, I took them off," he feels the tiniest tinge of sadness. 

"What a shame," Yoongi responds, wetting his lips as Jimin turns and saunters closer, hands rubbing over his nipples, keeping them covered. "They were cute."

"You're cute, hyung. But no touching unless I say you can," Jimin instructs softly but firmly, nibbling his bottom lip while slotting one leg between Yoongi's thighs and lifting his other knee to the bed. 

Yoongi tips his head back, leaning to give Jimin space as he rolls and grinds his hips, rubbing his hands up, over his neck, and into his hair, and then down, over his nipples and abdominals. Jimin is delicate hills and valleys of taut muscle and soft skin, and all Yoongi can do is stare at the beauty before him while swallowing the saliva that has pooled beneath his tongue, threatening to drool past his lips. 

"Like what you see, hyung?" Jimin asks, making Yoongi chuckle. 

Yoongi has to find his voice, softly clearing his throat. "You know I do."

With a deep, inviting hum, Jimin presses his thigh between Yoongi's legs, applying just enough pressure to make the air get trapped in his lungs. Arousal simmers through Yoongi, and he gasps, which becomes a soft chuckle when he notices the playful look on Jimin's face. 

"Evil," Yoongi groans when Jimin's leg grazes over him again, feeling blood rush straight to his dick. 

"What's the matter, hyung?" Jimin sing-songs as he takes a step back, spins around, and lowers his ass to Yoongi's lap. 

With both hands planted on Yoongi's knees, Jimin rolls his hips in circles and grinds them forward and back, and Yoongi squeezes the comforter in both palms as he groans from the pressure, fighting how badly he wants to touch. 

The song switches to something else sultry and unfamiliar, and Jimin reaches back with one arm that drapes over Yoongi's shoulder, resting his head on his other shoulder while his hips lift and fall in quick but soft movements that graze over Yoongi's crotch. 

"You're good at this," Yoongi mutters, dazed, hardly sounding like himself. 

Jimin hums in agreement and says, "I'm good at a lot of things."

A particularly firm press of Jimin's ass against Yoongi's constricted dick has his eyes fluttering closed, and he practically whines, "Show me everything."

Jimin sits up, taking away the arm around Yoongi's shoulder, then glances back with a mischievous smile, still moving his hips in inviting circles. Yoongi can hear the slow drag of a zipper, each tooth releasing as Jimin's arms make small movements in front of him. And then he lifts his hands to the waistband of his pants, hooks his thumbs under the black leather to slowly push the garment down.

The movement is agonizingly slow, only revealing an inch before he pulls back up and begins to drag down little by little, exposing pinkish-white satin briefs. Yoongi wants to grab onto the pockets and yank the material to the floor, losing all sense of sitting like a good boy. 

"You're killing me," he grumbles, fisting the blanket tight. 

With a giggle, Jimin stands, pushes the pants all the way to his thighs, and then sits again, grinding down on Yoongi's lap. The delicate curve of Jimin's waist into soft hips and a round, perfect ass has Yoongi reeling; the fact that he has Jimin all alone, and he is teasing him like this, is still a bit hard to comprehend. And, to make matters worse – or better – sticking out from under Jimin's satin panties are white lace garters connected to white mesh thigh-high stockings. 

Yoongi groans, eager to show his appreciation while feeling at a loss for words, earning a light giggle in response. 

"How badly do you want to touch me?" Jimin teases, glancing over his shoulder. 

Yoongi tongues the inside of his mouth, raising his eyebrows while Jimin continues to watch him. "Oh, I'm going to fucking ruin you the second you give me permission to."

It is subtle the way Jimin's eyes widen and all mirth melts from his features – it only lasts a split second. But Yoongi clocks it, and he smirks, feeling victorious. 

Jimin turns and stands, bending himself in half while pushing his pants down to his ankles, and Yoongi watches as more drool pools under his tongue, gaze drifting down to where Jimin peeks from around his ankles to smile before slowly standing back up. He steps from the crumpled leather and then kicks the garment away before turning to Yoongi with his cock straining hard in those tight little briefs as he straddles his lap. 

"How was this performance, hyung?" Jimin asks, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's shoulders to play with his hair. 

At some point, the song had changed, but Yoongi barely registers the downtempo beat, staring at Jimin, who giggles and wiggles his hips back and forth in a quick, playful movement. He lifts his right hand and then drops it back to the blanket with a groan, rolling his head back and taking a quick moment to close his eyes. 

"It was more of a tease than the first one," Yoongi grumbles, tracing the soft lines of Jimin's neck and shoulders with his eyes before looking at his face. "But it was great, all the same; I thoroughly enjoyed it."

Jimin reaches down and palms over Yoongi's dick, which sits bunched up at an uncomfortable angle under restrictive denim, making him gasp from the pressure-ache that tears through him. 

"I can tell how thoroughly you enjoyed it, hyung."

At this, Yoongi chuckles, biting the inside of his mouth and biding his time for when it is his turn to be a menace.

"Did you notice my final surprise?" Jimin asks.

"The garters and stockings?" Yoongi asks, eyes drifting downward. 

"Not that," Jimin responds, and Yoongi cocks his head, unsure what he means.

"No…" he mutters. 

Jimin stares incredulously, heavy-blinking in disbelief. "What, really?" he practically shouts. "My ass was right in your face, how did you miss it?"

"I mean…your ass is…surprisingly perfect," Yoongi tries.

With a playful huff, Jimin rolls his eyes, grabs Yoongi's right hand, and wraps it around him, making Yoongi cup one of his cheeks. 

"You can touch only with this hand," Jimin says with an insistent gaze, "and only on my butt."

The material of these briefs is thin and smooth, gliding softly under Yoongi's palm. It takes Yoongi a moment of rubbing over the soft flesh, squeezing gently, and mapping its shape before his fingertips brush over something hard, making Jimin suck in a sudden gasp of air. 

"Oh?" Yoongi asks, grazing his fingertips against the spot with more purpose, making Jimin squirm. "What have we here?"

Jimin whimpers as Yoongi presses against the hard, round surprise before taking a handful to squeeze and spread, turning his sounds into soft moans. 

"Were you wearing this plug during the performance?" Yoongi asks, head tipped back to watch as Jimin's lips tremble and search for what to say.

"Yes," he finally sighs, lolling his head back with a moan when Yoongi passes his fingers firmly over it again. 

"You performed wearing an anal plug?" Yoongi asks again, watching as Jimin's cheeks flush and his eyes widen.

Jimin leans forward and presses his forehead against Yoongi's, nodding while whimpering a broken, "Uh-huh."

"While dancing and singing and tugging on my hair?" Yoongi continues, "While those eager boys stood and watched you flirt with me, you wore this, hoping I would bring you back here and find it."

"Yes, hyung," Jimin moans, and god if Yoongi had not already been fighting back the urge to absolutely destroy this pretty man in the most delicious ways possible, he would be now.

"You wanted me to find this plug, hmm?" Yoongi presses and rubs over it, squeezing and spanking while his other hand grips onto the blanket for dear life. "Wanted me to bend you over and pull it out…stretch you further on my cock…didn't you?"

"Hyung," Jimin whines, hips rolling lazily into Yoongi's touch.

Without another word, Yoongi slides his hand away and anchors himself back against the bed. Jimin scrambles, sitting back with his eyes bulging wide, making Yoongi chuckle.

"So naughty," Yoongi teases, voice full of mirth and sparking a petulant fire in Jimin's eyes.

"Hyung!" Jimin shouts, lifting a hand to smack Yoongi on the chest, which Yoongi catches despite not being given instruction to touch, just yet. Jimin looks incensed and gasps, eyes going between Yoongi's hand and his face.

"It's my turn," Yoongi rasps, biting back a grin. "Let me touch you."

Jimin blinks at him, clearly still processing the teasing, and Yoongi raises his eyebrows, impatient. 

"Fine," Jimin huffs brattily, yanking his hand from Yoongi's grasp and sliding from Yoongi's lap to take his place beside him on the bed. "It's your turn to strip, hyung. Give me a good show."

Yoongi stands, walks a couple paces into the room, and turns, letting the movement flow with the beat of whatever song is playing – something a little quicker-paced but still sexy enough to dance to. He rubs his hands over his neck, down his pecs, and over his tummy, watching as Jimin rests back on his palms with his thighs slightly spread, intently following every movement. 

Then Yoongi grips onto the bottom hem of his shirt and pulls it quickly over his head, messing up his hair in the process. He flings the garment at Jimin with maybe just a little too much force, and it hits him in the chest, falling to his lap.

"Wh—hyung!" Jimin shouts, tossing the shirt aside as Yoongi quickly undoes his belt and fly and shoves his jeans to the floor, stepping out of one side and then the other, and then reaching down to yank away his socks. 

"This is the worst strip tease I have ever seen!" Jimin shouts despite his eyes roving over Yoongi's body with a hunger that says otherwise. 

Yoongi approaches in two swift strides and bends to take Jimin by the backs of his knees. He lifts and spreads Jimin's legs, sending his back crashing against the bed, scrambling and squealing while Yoongi leans forward, legs draped over his hips, and grins. 

"What did I tell you I was going to do, Jiminah?" Yoongi asks sternly, caging Jimin in with his hands against the bed while Jimin's frantic movements cause their clothed cocks to rub against one another in an addictive jolt of energy. 

"R-ruin me," Jimin pants as his flailing slows to a stop.

Yoongi grins. "That's right. I am going to absolutely ruin you. Now be good for me and get on your hands and knees."

It appears to take about two seconds for Jimin to process Yoongi's words before he crawls back on his elbows, getting fully onto the bed, and turning to position himself on his hands and knees while Yoongi sinks down to the floor. Jimin moves toward the center of the bed when Yoongi stops him.

"Ah, ah, come back here, pretty." He pats the mattress as if calling over a puppy. "Want you right here."

Jimin crawls backward with a somewhat dazed, borderline humiliated look on his face, and Yoongi waits patiently until Jimin is settled on the edge of the bed with his ankles hanging near Yoongi's head. 

"Perfect," Yoongi groans as he sits high, reaches for the waistline of Jimin's pretty satin briefs, and pulls, uncovering his prize in all its soft yet muscular glory. 

Yoongi practically moans at the sight of Jimin stretched around a metal toy with a light pink rhinestone in the center, and he wastes no time reaching two handfuls of soft flesh to squeeze firmly in his palms. He spreads his hands wide to graze his thumbs over the toy, then uses one hand to begin slowly tugging on it while keeping Jimin spread. 

"God, look at you," Yoongi groans as Jimin's pucker tenses and relaxes with each movement. "Is this what you wanted? When you invited me to come watch you perform, did you picture me bending you over and playing with your ass afterward?"

"Yes," Jimin whines, sending a shiver down Yoongi's spine.

Yoongi uses his palm to gently strike Jimin's ass. The sound cracks through the room, punctuated by a moan, and Jimin shutters as he relaxes. 

"What did you imagine, exactly?" Yoongi asks, hearing a dazed, "What?" come from Jimin. 

"When you nestled this pretty little toy inside yourself tonight," Yoongi clarifies, rubbing over the reddened mark of his hand. "What were you imagining I would do to you?"

"I thought you would want to f-fuck me," Jimin says, sounding somewhat bashful. How cute. 

Yoongi rubs over Jimin's ass with both hands, then taps the tip of his index finger over the end of the toy, making Jimin tremble. "Is that all?"

"N-no," Jimin whimpers.

"Awe, is pretty Jimin too shy to dirty talk to his hyung now that he has me right where he wants me?"

All he hears in response is a low whine, and Yoongi chuckles, smacking and squeezing Jimin's ass just enough to make his legs quake. He wonders if Jimin likes becoming pliant and malleable in someone else's hands. 

"I can tell you what I imagine," Yoongi offers, sitting back before getting onto his feet to rub over Jimin's back and bend over him, draping himself to speak low into Jimin's ear. 

Jimin nods. 

"What I've imagined since the day we met—" Yoongi reaches with one hand to Jimin's chin and lifts his head up, then presses two fingers into his warm, wet mouth, "—is watching these sinful fucking lips wrap around my cock."

Jimin sucks on Yoongi's fingers, stirring a fire in his belly, and Yoongi nuzzles their cheeks together, pulling away as Jimin releases him with a pop. 

"And what I've imagined since that little performance of yours tonight—" Yoongi gently grips Jimin's chin and pulls him so that he is held in place, back arched and neck craned, looking him in the eye, "—is the sight of you riding me…using me to make yourself cum…squeezing me so nice and tight…all while tugging on my hair."

Jimin's eyes blow wide, and he gasps, staring at Yoongi as if he has just personally hung every star in the night sky. Reverent. 

"Would you like that, pretty?" Yoongi asks, and Jimin nods.

Yoongi grins. "Use your words, baby."

Brighter and wider, Jimin's eyes turn to heavenly disks, and Yoongi makes a mental note to call him baby a lot more. 

"Yes, hyung," Jimin mutters sweetly.

"Say my name. Tell me what you need."

"Yes, Yoongi," Jimin responds. "I need…you. Anything you want, please."

With a soft kiss against Jimin's cheek, Yoongi lowers Jimin down, continuing to drape himself over his body, keeping his weight from pressing on him too much. 

"Do you like to be more in control," Yoongi asks, dancing fingertips in Jimin's pink hair, "or do you like to submit?"

Jimin's voice has a slight tremble when he says, "Submit."

"Do you like it rough or soft?"

"Both."

Yoongi groans, pleased with that answer. "Do you have a safe word, baby?"

"S-strawberry."

"Strawberry, of course," Yoongi says, grinning. "Good. I'm going to make you feel so good, baby."

Yoongi feels Jimin's body relax beneath him as he sighs, "Please, Yoongi," in a voice fit for an angel.

Eager to learn all the pretty ways Jimin can sing, Yoongi gets back onto his feet, running his fingertips over the length of Jimin's back before dropping to his knees. He spreads Jimin wide, leans forward, and licks from just beneath the end of the plug to just above it, tasting cold metal and zirconia with a sticky-sweet hint of lube. 

Jimin moans low and arches his back, pressing his ass against Yoongi's face, and Yoongi chuckles as he grips tightly to both cheeks and licks again and again, straight lines and rounded ones, tasting and teasing.

"Do you get really sensitive?" Yoongi asks as he rests his cheek against the soft curve of Jimin's ass and takes the end of the toy between his fingers, tugging it ever so slightly – just enough to make Jimin whine. 

Jimin mutters a pitchy, "Uh-huh."

"Words, baby," Yoongi instructs with a somewhat stronger tug. 

Jimin sobs as he says, "Yes, Yoongi!"

"Good," Yoongi groans as he nuzzles against Jimin and nips gently at his skin. "We're gonna have a lot of fun together."

With a firm tug, Yoongi begins to pull the toy, taking it nice and slow while Jimin's hole stretches around the bulb. Jimin sobs with shaking legs, and Yoongi lifts his head and drops a dab of spit as he pushes the toy back in and gives it another tug. 

Back and forth, he tugs and presses, with more spit and kisses against Jimin's soft skin, again and again, until finally Jimin opens wide and releases the plug with a soft wail. 

"That's it, baby," Yoongi praises, licking over Jimin's rim with a firm twist of his tongue, making him moan. "So good for me."

Yoongi stands on somewhat shaky legs – knees, and calves tired from being bunched up on the floor – and he moves to the bedside table, grabs a tissue from a small box, and places it down to rest the plug onto. "You got lube in here?" he asks, tapping his fingernails against the small door on the front of the table. 

"No, on top," Jimin responds, and Yoongi glances around, then finds the bottle wedged behind the tissue box. 

"Is this the lube you used earlier?" Yoongi asks as he returns and takes in the sight of Jimin on his knees with his face pressed against his floral comforter.

"Don't pick on me," Jimin pouts, frowning, making Yoongi chuckle fondly.

"Not picking on you, baby," Yoongi responds, patting the center of the bed, closer to the pillow. "Come up here."

With a whimper and even deeper pout, Jimin anchors himself on his hands, and – like a doe learning to walk for the first time – fumbles and sways with forward momentum until he slams his chest down onto a pillow and wraps his arms around it. 

Yoongi gets onto the bed and crawls on his knees behind Jimin. The satin briefs are still around Jimin's legs, keeping him from spreading his knees too far, and Yoongi leaves them in place, curious how Jimin might enjoy a little movement restriction.

With his thumb, Yoongi flips open the lid of the lube bottle, then he squirts a generous amount onto his index and middle fingers and rubs the pad of his thumb through the sticky substance to warm it just a little. Then he rubs the slicked tips of his fingers over Jimin's hole, watching the way he trembles from even the slightest of touches. 

Slowly, Yoongi presses the tip of his middle finger in, testing how far the toy has stretched him. Although Jimin moans, his voice is steady as Yoongi pushes all the way to his knuckle and twists. The muscle does not squeeze too tight, so he pulls out and gently slides in another.

With his index finger added, Jimin squeezes him with a deep whimper and then relaxes. Yoongi takes it slow, rubbing his palm soothingly over Jimin's ass and thigh, pulling his fingers back and pressing them forward little by little. 

"Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop, pretty," Yoongi says as he watches his fingertips get swallowed. 

"Don't stop," Jimin whimpers, "give me more."

"More?" Yoongi teases, drawing the word out nice and long. 

"Please, Yoongi."

Yoongi twists his fingers as he pushes and pulls, listening to Jimin's deep voice become high-pitched and raspy. Satisfied with how Jimin feels around him – swallowing eagerly but not with a death grip – Yoongi adds his ring finger. 

Jimin trembles and bleats broken syllables as Yoongi presses three fingers into him. He twists slowly and dribbles spit onto Jimin's rim, giving himself a little more slide, working himself a little deeper. And Jimin takes him so well until he gets to his knuckles and the stretch feels too tight.

"Fuck," Jimin gasps, legs quaking. "Feels s-so good, but it—'s too much."

"I got you, baby," Yoongi says softly, planting kisses over Jimin's ass and upper thigh as he slides his fingers out and pauses. "Call your safe word if you want a break."

"No," Jimin pants. "I don't want a break, your fingers are just…they're too good."

Yoongi chuckles, slowly pressing his fingers back in, stopping before the knuckles, as he says, "Just breathe for me," with his lips dragging over Jimin's soft skin. 

Labored, panicked breaths make Yoongi smile and shake his head, and he slowly pulls out as he clarifies, "Breathe slowly, Jiminah. Don't make yourself dizzy; I don't need you passing out on me."

An impatient groan muffled by a blanket makes Yoongi sit up high on his knees and angle his body to get a look at Jimin, whose face is squished cutely into the bed with flushed cheeks and a frown in his brow. 

"Ya, what is it?" Yoongi teases, using his lubed fingers to give Jimin's ass a little smack, smiling at how the man cries and quakes. 

"Wanna ride you," Jimin groans indignantly. 

Yoongi wants to rile Jimin up so badly. He considers tickling the man until he crashes to the bed laughing – and probably throwing a tantrum. He wants to threaten not to let Jimin do anything he wants, just so he can be pouty and bratty and make Yoongi put him in his place a little – gently and sweetly, of course. He has to hold his tongue to not chide the poor guy for how grumpy and impatient he is, even as Yoongi stretches him. 

But he does not. Instead, Yoongi rubs both hands over Jimin's ass, spreading and squeezing while settling back down again. "I thought you wanted to be submissive," he asks, with only a hint of mirth.

"I do," Jimin responds, pout still evident in his tone. "I want to do both. I can't make up my mind."

"You can do both," Yoongi insists with a smirk, reaching for the lube bottle to slick his fingers back up. "I would love it if you rode me, baby. But if you can't take three knuckles, you sure as hell can't take my cock. So why don't you be a good boy and breathe nice and slow while I stretch you open, yeah?"

The breathy way in which Jimin mutters, "Yeah," tells Yoongi his message has been received loud and clear. The prospect alone of Jimin riding him has him very eager to get the other nice and ready. 

Yoongi slathers his three fingers in lube and begins to press them in. Jimin still huffs his exhales, but he is breathing less like a man who might be dying, for which Yoongi is grateful. It takes plenty of twisting and coaxing to slowly get the muscles to open for him, but Yoongi is patient, kissing and sucking on Jimin's skin while watching his fingers get swallowed. 

When Yoongi finally does finger Jimin past the knuckle – accompanied by a pitchy squeal and Jimin begging, "Fuck, fuck, don't stop, please don't fucking stop," – he stops, letting Jimin adjust to the stretch. 

"That's it," Yoongi praises, rubbing his palm over Jimin's ass and thigh while his fingers stay nestled deep inside him. "I knew you could take me. Just had to be a little patient."

"I've fantasized about how your knobby knuckles would feel but fuck, they are so big," Jimin whines, making Yoongi laugh. 

He squeezes Jimin's ass in his palm, then slowly begins to pull his fingers out, watching as Jimin opens wide to accommodate him once more. "You've fantasized about my fingers, huh?"

"H-hyung," Jimin groans, sounding embarrassed.

"Say my name, pretty," Yoongi sweetly commands as he twists his fingers out and begins to plunge them back in, meeting far less resistance. 

"Y-Yoongi," Jimin sobs, trembling as Yoongi twists – pulling out and pushing back in. 

The sight of his fingers getting swallowed whole has Yoongi's jaw hanging slack, drool pooling beneath his tongue. Jimin is an absolute vision, and the more his light-dusky pucker becomes flushed and reddened with pleasure, the hungrier Yoongi is to give and give and give. Anything to paint him prettily with bliss. Anything to hear the sweet, broken sounds he makes. 

"What is it, baby," Yoongi asks, twist-pulling and plunging deep. 

Jimin hiccups and Yoongi rotates his torso to lean just enough to see Jimin's fist grasping at the comforter. "N-need you."

"I'm here," Yoongi coos while rubbing his palm over Jimin's ass and lower back, fingertips mapping and memorizing. "You're almost ready for me."

Yoongi pulls out, then uses the index fingers of both hands hooked into Jimin's rim to open him nice and wide. Jimin sobs as Yoongi stretches him, slowly plunging his fingers in and out in a push and pull, watching as the welcoming rings of muscle tense and relax. 

"Wh-what are you doing to me?" Jimin groans, as he sinks a little further forward, pushing his ass ever so slightly higher. 

"Admiring you, baby," Yoongi says, sitting high on his knees to dribble a dollop of spit into Jimin's hole to squelch between his two fingers. "You have no idea how fucking perfect you are."  

Jimin hiccups as he moans, and Yoongi slowly pulls out, one finger and then the other, watching as his pucker tightens and tightens.

"Alright, baby," Yoongi says as he sits back on his knees and open-palm kneads at Jimin's fleshy thighs, feeling supple skin, rough lace, and soft mesh against his palms. "Wanna be a good boy and show hyung how you ride cock?"

A pitchy, garbled, "Uh-huh," leaves Jimin's mouth in a rush as he pushes himself on shaking limbs until he is seated on his knees. Yoongi slides off the bed and walks toward the head, moving pillows and the comforter out of the way, revealing a pretty green floral sheet. He pushes his dark briefs down to the floor, stepping out of each side as he places his knees onto the bed, knee-walks the center, and then sits, spreading his thighs while Jimin grabs the bottle of lube and hobbles close. 

Without preamble, Jimin cages Yoongi's hips between his arms and licks a slow stripe up the underside of his aching, neglected cock, sending a thrill of pleasure shooting through him that has a moan storming from his lungs. Yoongi's head thumps against the headboard as he sinks against the cool, wooden surface, and he lifts his hands to gently take Jimin by the hair and chin. 

"Hyung tastes so good," Jimin coos sweetly, glancing up through his eyelashes while poking out his pretty pink tongue to lap at the dribble of precum at his tip. 

Yoongi was not planning on getting his dick sucked – he was dead set on Jimin's pleasure first and foremost, eager to give absolutely anything to him that he wants. But if what Jimin wants is to put those pretty lips to use, Yoongi would not dare say no. 

"Is that so?" Yoongi urges, eager to press Jimin to say more – hopeful that he will turn shy and sweet like before.

Jimin nods, blinking with a lust-drunk haze in his eyes before looking down into Yoongi's trimmed dark pubes as he says, "Salty-sweet…so yummy…"

"It's all yours, baby," Yoongi says as he drags his trimmed, blunt fingernails along the sharp lines of Jimin's jaw. "Anything you want, it's yours."

Jimin lets his tongue hang long, blinking upward while drool pools and dribbles onto Yoongi's tip, dripping down to disappear from view. "Want to make a mess," he slurs, barely pulling his tongue back enough to speak clearly. 

"Yeah?" Yoongi urges, "you wanna make a mess of me, baby?"

Jimin nods, curving his lips upward, saliva pooling and dripping. Yoongi fights the urge to beg him to do more – wants Jimin to go at his own pace and enjoy himself, even if it means Yoongi vibrates with nerves and anticipation, bordering on impatience and flat-out desperation. 

Luckily, Jimin does not make him wait long. With a deep, eager groan, Jimin sucks Yoongi's tip into his mouth without using his hands, then curves his back and neck, doing his best to swallow him down. Pleasure quakes through Yoongi, and he sinks further into the bed, dragging his head back against the headboard while he moans deep and appreciative. 

He tips his head to the side to watch Jimin's spit-slick petal lips drag along his length. Jimin hums and moans, which vibrates just enough to make Yoongi shiver, sucking his cheeks and swishing his tongue in a hypnotic dance. 

Slowly, Yoongi climbs to the precipice of bliss, further each time Jimin takes him a little deeper and swallows a little harder. Then Jimin changes position, sitting higher on his knees, and he takes Yoongi into his throat and swallows hard, sending a heavy wave of euphoria crashing inside him. Yoongi's fingers, which had been loosely holding onto Jimin's hair and face, grip onto Jimin's hair, and he tugs gently without pulling too hard. 

"Shit, baby, that's it," Yoongi whines, voice coming out pitchy and breathy. "Won't last if you keep swallowing me like that."

Jimin hums and swallows harder, holding Yoongi in his throat long enough to make Yoongi begin to spiral; long enough for Jimin to come up for air with a heavy gasp. Spit hangs from Jimin's lips and tongue in thick strings, and when he blinks, mascara leaves little black streaks on his face. 

"Pretty, messy baby," Yoongi praises with a smile that feels crooked and heavy. He knows he must look absolutely fucked out, and the way Jimin's eyes shimmer has affection blooming deep behind his ribs. 

Jimin grins, then sinks back down, sucking and swallowing eagerly while setting a quick pace bobbing his head. The faint pass of Jimin's teeth along Yoongi's length sends a tickle up his spine that has his back arching, and with each upward stroke of his lips, spit collects and trickles, coating his balls and dribbling over his asshole. 

Yoongi is close, and he grips Jimin's hair a little tighter, guiding his head a little deeper. He whimpers broken pleas for Jimin to keep going that hardly sound like words – whisps of sounds flitting into the air as he struggles to keep his bearings. Jimin's mouth is better than Yoongi could have possibly anticipated, and he submits fully to letting Jimin send him straight into the clouds. He wants to cum down that pretty throat so badly. 

"Fuck," Yoongi mutters, finally finding his voice. "Gonna cum, baby. Will you swallow for me?"

Jimin seems to try to nod, muttering some kind of response that amounts to consonants and sputtered drool, and Yoongi loosens his grip on Jimin's hair, letting his hands slide and fall away to fist at the sheet, instead. It only takes three more passes of those perfect fucking lips to make Yoongi absolutely dissolve.

"Gonna c—" is all he chokes out before painting Jimin's tongue and throat. 

Jimin gags slightly but continues to suck and swallow, humming and moaning between Yoongi's sharp, raspy sounds of pleasure. His orgasm flows through him hot and quick, erupting and intoxicating. Only once he is trembling from overstimulation does Jimin release his cock, licking once more from base to tip with his mouth hanging agape. 

Streaks of viscous white streak Jimin's tongue, and Yoongi takes him by the jaw and gently lifts, urging Jimin to sit up and crash into him. Yoongi licks into Jimin's mouth, tasting his own heady release, and Jimin melts forward, laying his torso heavily against Yoongi while very slowly crawling up into a seated position on his lap. 

"Was that what you were imagining, hyung?" Jimin asks against his mouth, making Yoongi chuckle.

"Better," he rasps. "I could never have imagined anything feeling that good, Jiminah."

Jimin blushes as he asks, "Did you like how my lips looked?" and Yoongi raises an eyebrow, tilting his head back to get a better look at him. "Wrapped around you," Jimin continues, nibbling on his plush, kiss-swollen bottom lip. 

"You know I did." Yoongi leans in to place a soft kiss against Jimin's lips, deciding instead to suck them into his mouth, one after the other, making him giggle. "You looked and felt like heaven, baby."

Jimin leans back into Yoongi, wrapping his arms around his neck and gently tugging at his hair. They kiss, lick, suck, and nip in unhurried movements, tasting and teasing while Yoongi's dick recovers and begins to harden once more. Sticky-cool saliva transfers from Jimin's chin to Yoongi's, aiding in the mess that was promised, and Yoongi slowly sucks at Jimin's tongue tip, making him drool even more. 

Time grinds to a halt, suspended and of no use to them. Yoongi passes his hands over Jimin's shoulders, down the slopes of his back and hips and ass – anywhere he can reach. Occasionally, Jimin shivers and sighs, and Yoongi cannot help but smile, endeared and eager to know every single sensitive spot he may have. 

One of Jimin's hands leaves Yoongi's hair and travels down, tickling as his fingernails delicately scrape down his pec, across his ribs, to his hip. When Jimin wraps his hand around Yoongi's growing erection, engulfing him in pleasure and warmth, Yoongi gasps, rolling his eyes back and nodding as he mutters, "Almost ready for you."

Jimin releases Yoongi and reaches for the lube before using both hands to slick him up. Yoongi is grateful that Jimin does not warm it in his hands, hissing with delight at the cold touch. Jimin giggles deviously, chewing on his lip, and Yoongi gazes down at his cock between two slender, pretty hands before returning his attention to Jimin's face. 

"Now are you ready, hyung?" Jimin asks as he sits high on his knees and positions himself over Yoongi's tip. 

Yoongi uses both hands to steady Jimin's thighs, dancing his fingertips over the stockings, then gripping gently while Jimin reaches up to the top of the headboard and leans his chest close to Yoongi's face. 

"I don't think I could ever fully be ready for someone as perfect as you fucking me, Jiminah," Yoongi confesses with a smile, tilting his head until his tongue is able to flit out and drag over a dusky, pert nipple. "You'll just have to give it to me; force me to be ready. Don't hold back."

"As you wish, hyung," Jimin responds sweetly as he begins to sink down. 

The tip of Yoongi's cock breaches Jimin's hole with a shutter and whimper from both men in tandem. Yoongi grips Jimin's hips bruisingly, expecting Jimin to stop and adjust, but Jimin keeps lowering, down, down, down until he is fully seated and choking pretty, broken sobs. 

Yoongi is overwhelmed with pleasure, squeezed with blissful tight warmth, and he quakes with each gentle squeeze of muscle around him. His breath feels heavy in his lungs, and as he lets out a groaned exhale, he releases his grip on Jimin's thighs and rests his head back in a desperate attempt to get his bearings, teetering on the brink of total mental collapse.

"Hol—" is all Yoongi manages to moan as Jimin lifts and drops, slamming his ass against Yoongi's thighs, letting out a dulcet whimper that is rivaled by Jimin's pitchier one. 

"Big," Jimin mutters as he picks up a dizzying pace of slowly lifting before forcefully dropping, spearing himself so nice and deep, Yoongi feels like he may be carving the poor guy open. 

Jimin is magnificent with his head tilted back and lips hung wide, whimpering as he rises and drops and rises and drops. Somehow exactly as Yoongi imagined, yet so much more. His cock glistens hard against his tummy, dribbling with precum and so neglected, bouncing against his abs with each drop, leaving a little splatter behind.

"I won't last," Yoongi admits, feeling the blissful, agonizing squeeze that is only intensified as Jimin's muscles flutter with pleasure. "I usually have more—ahh—s-stamina, but you feel so g-good."

"Awe, hyungie," Jimin purrs, tilting his head forward and opening his dreamy, lust-lidded eyes. "That's ok. I just hope you can keep going…ruin me like you promised."

"I can," Yoongi croaks. It will be much easier to stave off his orgasm when he is in full control; like this, he doesn't stand a chance. 

"There's always tomorrow, too," Jimin mutters half-dazed, and Yoongi smirks at the prospect of Jimin wanting him after tonight. 

Yoongi rubs his hands up Jimin's hips, along the delicate curve of his waist and the white lace garter, and further, palming over pecs. As Jimin lifts and drops, Yoongi almost feels overwhelmed by the arousal that pools and pools, warm and aching in his center, tingling to his limbs, filling him with desire. He wants to grab Jimin tight and fuck up into him, but Jimin feels and looks so amazing he lets him take his time. 

With a grin that morphs into a bite of his lower lip, Jimin lifts his hips and swivels them, whorling around Yoongi's tip and tugging up, making him gasp and groan. Yoongi rubs his hands down to Jimin's waist and gently holds, helping keep him steady while the dancer twists and swishes, creating dizzying patterns to the song Yoongi barely hears over the pounding of his heart. 

"God, your body…" Yoongi mutters, eyes heavy as he watches muscle tense and soften. 

"You like how I feel, hyung?" Jimin mutters as he swirls up. 

Before Yoongi can respond, Jimin begins to bounce his ass up and down to the beat of the background song, just fucking himself on Yoongi's tip – teasing in a most delightful way. 

"How you feel…" Yoongi mutters, head rolling back against the headboard, looking down his nose at the beauty above him. "How you look, how you sound…you're fucking perfect, baby."

Jimin smiles and runs his hands over Yoongi's neck, then uses one hand to leverage himself on Yoongi's shoulder while the other takes a handful of hair and grips tight. 

"You're just saying that because I'm fucking you," Jimin teases through gasps and whimpers, gaze turning sharp while he begins to drop his hips back down and spear himself deep.

Even with a cock buried inside him, Jimin is a brat. Yoongi finds it way too endearing, though he is eager to flip the pretty dancer over and fuck him so good he can no longer talk back. He rolls his eyes, moaning as Jimin rides him a little steadier, trying to ignore how rapidly his pleasure builds.

"True," Yoongi mutters, playing along. If Jimin wants to be petulant, two can play this game.

"Ah—" Jimin moans, "I knew it. Just using me for my perfect ass."

Yoongi's hands slide over the soft, inviting curves of Jimin's hips and ass, and he takes two splayed handfuls and gives him a squeeze, moaning, "Exactly."

With his palms gripping tight, Yoongi assists Jimin in his movements, lifting and dropping him in a nice steady rhythm. Rather than attempt to stave his high, he chases it now, eager to change positions and give Jimin more. 

Jimin whimpers and sobs, breath coming out punchy and ragged while his tip leaks precum. 

"Are you close, baby?" Yoongi asks, receiving only a whimpered, "Uh-huh," in response. 

"What did I say about using your words?" Yoongi insists through grit teeth, finding it harder to steady his breathing and speak clearly. 

"Yes, Yoongi," Jimin moans, sending a chill down Yoongi's spine at the sound of his name. "I'm so close."

Yoongi pulls one hand away, lifts it to his mouth, and spits into his palm. He stares up at Jimin as he wraps his hand around Jimin's cock head and squeezes just enough to elicit a moan and shiver from him, then he begins to stroke nice and slow, collecting dribbled precum on his palm.

"Hyung," Jimin whimpers, body tensing and relaxing over and over. 

"Say my name, baby," Yoongi instructs with a smirk, watching Jimin's lips tremble and form unvoiced syllables. 

Jimin leans forward and takes two handfuls of Yoongi's hair as he lifts and slams his ass with purpose. Each breath Yoongi pants hits Jimin's chest, creating a pocket of sticky warmth between them. 

"Yoongi," Jimin whines as his grip tightens, tugging on Yoongi's scalp and making him hiss. 

"Yes, baby?"

Jimin's voice cracks, barely croaking out the words, "I'm gonna cum."

"Cum for me, Jiminah," Yoongi moans, feeling his own high reach its peak. "Cum all over this cock, baby, let me feel you."

Jimin's muscles squeeze and release– frenzied and dizzying as his rhythm falters. Rather than lift, he grinds, burying Yoongi so deep, the air feels trapped in Yoongi's chest. 

"That's it, baby," Yoongi wheezes through grit teeth, stroking Jimin at an angle that has him gently punching his fist against both their tummies. "Use my cock to get yourself off. Fuck, you feel so good."

Jimin's back arches and his body quakes as he cums. Yoongi squeezes at his tip, urging more and more release to coat his fist sticky-white, digging his heels into the mattress as he fucks his hips upward, just enough to get Jimin bouncing and moaning. Jimin squeezes him so tight, pushing him right over the edge. 

"Gonna cum, baby," Yoongi groans as every nerve prickles tingly and hot, ready to burst. 

"Fill me, Yoongi," Jimin sobs as he bounces in quick, shallow movements. "Make me messy."

The squeeze of Jimin's muscles, and fucked out, eager sound of his voice has Yoongi's orgasm hitting hard. He releases Jimin's cock, gripping onto his thighs with both hands as his body trembles roughly with pleasure. Yoongi barely makes a sound, rasping around heaving breaths as his eyes squeeze momentarily tight, attempting to relax as his orgasm pulses through him in tremendous bursts, making him see stars. 

"That's it, hyung," Jimin whimpers, leaning all the way forward, draping himself over Yoongi's shoulders. "Feels so good."

Yoongi sits back, catching his breath as his cock softens, running his clean palm up Jimin's back while the cum-covered hand falls to the side. Jimin's muscles continue to flutter, and he nuzzles his face against Yoongi's neck, leaving lazy, wet kisses against the skin and filling Yoongi with butterflies. 

The music continues to play, changing from one sexy beat to another. A female artist sings, but Yoongi is unable to make out what she is saying. His pulse thumps in his ears and throat, forcing each breath out in a lively beat of his own. 

"It feels nice to just…sit here and hold you," Jimin mutters against Yoongi's skin. 

"I would hug you back but one of my hands is covered in your cum."

Jimin hums in understanding, adding, "You got it on my thigh," with a familiar bratty tone. 

"You wanted to be messy," Yoongi grumbles with a smile, feeling absolutely smitten. 

Jimin groans, "I did," as he slowly begins to sit up, taking the warmth of his body away. 

Yoongi shivers as the sweat that covers him turns cold. He tips his head back and looks up as Jimin settles on his lap, cock-warming him while sitting tall, smiling sweetly. 

"I guess since you got what you wanted, you don't need me anymore," Jimin teases with a smirk and a lift of one eyebrow as he reaches out and undoes what is left of the bun in Yoongi's hair, tossing his trusty hair tie aside. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes and lolls his head back, trying not to smile as he mutters, "Really, Jiminah?"

With wide, playful eyes, Jimin nods, sliding his ass up, up, up until Yoongi's soft, cum-covered cock falls away, making him shudder. 

"You had a taste of my perfect ass, so—"

"Oh, I had a taste, alright," Yoongi interrupts with a grin, sitting up and causing Jimin to move slightly backward. "You think I'm gonna just leave now? Never to see you again?"

Jimin's playful demeanor begins to crumble as Yoongi lifts his soiled hand and begins to lick at what is left of Jimin's heady, salty-sweet release. 

"Uh, I—" Jimin says, lips forming around syllables he never voices. 

"What about promising me tomorrow? Hmm?" Yoongi asks before dragging his tongue over his knuckles, cleaning the remnants of Jimin's cum.

Now that his hand is far less messy, Yoongi grips onto Jimin's waist nice and tight and lift-pushes the dancer onto his back. Jimin yelps as he hits the pretty green sheet, pink hair sweat-stuck together in little spikes, fanning messily around his beautiful face. 

"I'm not finished with you yet," Yoongi says as he gets onto his knees and towers over Jimin. "Weren't you just whining about me ruining you moments ago?"

Jimin giggles softly, reaching his arms to wrap around Yoongi's neck. Yoongi gently takes Jimin by the wrists and pushes his arms to the mattress, pressing his weight down, watching with delight as Jimin gasps and shivers beneath him. 

"You really think I could only do this once?" Yoongi teases as he leans forward, crowding Jimin's space. "Now that I've had a taste of you, I'll be craving you, Jiminah."

"I-is that so?" Jimin breathes, head tilting as if offering the expanse of his neck to Yoongi – an invitation Yoongi takes as he drags his lips over salt-slick skin. 

"That is so."

"Are you sure you can keep going?" Jimin asks sweetly. "You just came twice."

"I could fuck you all night, baby," Yoongi insists, licking and nipping until Jimin gasps. "Just need a moment to get hard again. Why? Can you keep going?"

Each breath that puffs from Jimin's lips sounds heavy. "I can, but…I might get overstimulated."

"I know," Yoongi groans with a smile. "I watched you fall apart on my fingers, remember?"

"I might get…really…lost," Jimin admits.

Yoongi releases Jimin's hands and moves them to the mattress so he can press more weight down and angle himself upward just enough to look Jimin in the eyes. 

"Like, subspace?" Yoongi asks, watching Jimin's eyes widen. 

"Maybe," Jimin mutters. "I just get really…floaty. Like my soul and body are disconnected…held together by pleasure."

Yoongi nods in understanding. "Do you want to hold off, then? Wait until we're more comfortable with each other before you go there with me?"

The smile that tugs on Jimin's lips is sweet, and his eyes sparkle as he says, "I have a feeling you will take good care of me, hyung."

Affection bursts warm in Yoongi's chest. "Of course, I will. But I still understand if that's something you want to build up to."

Jimin shakes his head and nibbles on his lip. "I trust you. I'll call my safe word if I need to."

"You don't go non-verbal at all?"

Jimin pinches his brow and shakes his head. "No."

"Alright," Yoongi agrees, eager to keep going as long as Jimin feels safe. 

Jimin leans forward, groaning as his chin juts out, puckering for a kiss, making Yoongi chuckle softly. Yoongi closes the gap and presses further, allowing Jimin to lie comfortably, and he licks and sucks at Jimin's soft, sinful mouth. 

"Sorry for ruining the mood with talking," Jimin mutters against Yoongi's lips.

Yoongi hums as he licks into Jimin's warm, petal mouth, opening him wide; making space. Jimin tastes so delicately sweet yet heady, and Yoongi has no choice but to chase every nuanced flavor, eager to discover more. Jimin's hums and groans are music to Yoongi's ears, and he swallows each sound with ease. 

Rather than lifting his head, Yoongi simply stops kissing, letting his lips rest on Jimin, who smiles. Yoongi wishes he could adequately communicate just how important every little thing Jimin thinks, feels, and needs is, to him. 

"Discussing boundaries is never a mood killer," Yoongi insists against his lips. "I never want you to hold anything back."

"Thank you, hyung," Jimin mutters, leaving pecks of soft kisses along Yoongi's mouth and chin.

"Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum, Jiminah. You deserve to be cared for."

The way Jimin squeals and wiggles beneath him makes his smile go lopsided. Yoongi lifts his head just enough to watch Jimin's cheeks flush, taking in the beauty of his shimmery and black makeup smudged around his eyes. 

"Shut up," Jimin groans.

"Shut me up," Yoongi challenges with a waggle of his eyebrows. 

Jimin tilts his chin up once more, chasing a kiss. As Yoongi leans down, giving into his desire, one warm hand wraps around his half-hard cock, making him shiver and groan; this certainly is one way to get him to stop talking. 

"Want you again, Yoongi," Jimin pleads into Yoongi's open mouth, tugging on his cock. "Need you."

"You have me, baby," Yoongi practically moans, licking against Jimin's lips as his arousal simmers and warms him. "Turn over, on your stomach."

Jimin nods as he deepens the kiss, licking eagerly into Yoongi's mouth, sighing as Yoongi pushes and pulls with his tongue. When Jimin breaks the kiss, fingertips dig into Yoongi's neck and shoulder, and both men are panting, thickening the air between them with moist warmth. 

Jimin begins to wiggle around onto his side, then his stomach, and Yoongi stays where he is, caging him in with his arms and lifting his knees one after the other to accommodate Jimin's legs. Once Jimin is settled, Yoongi leans forward and presses his lips to the back of Jimin's neck, nipping and swirling his tongue as Jimin moans, back bowing delicately – trembling.

Yoongi kisses down the curve of Jimin's spine, crawling backward onto his knees. He sucks marks at the top of Jimin's ass, nipping and licking over dewy-smooth skin and lifting his hands to cup and squeeze. As he sits up, he kneads gently into Jimin's perfect, pillowy flesh, spreading him wide. Jimin's puffy rim glistens with leaked cum, and Yoongi wets his lips as he runs two fingertips over the mess before pressing deep inside. 

Jimin moans loudly, broken and debauched, as Yoongi fingers his tight asshole, feeling his own cum squelch, icky and enticing. He looks around for the bottle of lube and leans back, allowing his fingers to be slowly released as he reaches for it with his free hand. 

"You sure you can keep going?" Yoongi asks as he flicks the lube bottle open with his thumb, caressing the soft swell of Jimin's ass and thigh. 

"I'm not fragile, hyung," Jimin whimpers with his hands beside his head, clutching onto the comforter that has been bunched up and pushed out of the way. 

"Never said you were," Yoongi smiles fondly, squirting lube into his palm and working it over his cock, hissing from the sensation on his tender skin. "Just don't want to push you too far."

Jimin groans a pitchy sound that Yoongi assumes is impatience. "We already discussed this. My safe word is strawberry, hyung. Please fuck me."

Yoongi rubs his lubed hand sloppily over Jimin's hole, nibbling his lip as Jimin bucks and trembles against him. "Say that last part again."

There is a second of hesitation, followed by a soft sigh that makes Yoongi grin. He opens his mouth to ask again nicely, but Jimin beats him to it, muttering, "Please fuck me, Yoongi."

Jimin spreads his thighs flat against the bed and extends his legs straight, laying in a perfect split, and Yoongi gasps at the sight of him. He leans forward to accommodate the new height, gripping onto his length with one hand and Jimin's hip with the other. With a devious giggle, Jimin begins to bounce his ass, clapping his cheeks softly in a show that has Yoongi absolutely reeling. 

Without a moment more to spare, Yoongi leans forward on his knees and lines himself up with Jimin's rim, using his non-sticky hand to guide one of Jimin's hips. "You're a fucking menace," he groans as he presses in, in, in, spearing Jimin open as they whine and moan in tandem, feeling pleasure burst through his limbs like rays of warm, alluring light. 

"Squeezing me, baby," Yoongi rasps as he slowly slides out, giving Jimin no time to adjust. He places both hands on Jimin's hips and begins to rock his body, fucking into Jimin without moving his own hips. The delicate, elongated stretch of Jimin's mesh clad legs, right down to the tips of his pretty little toes has Yoongi torn between wanting to cherish him like something delicate or completely wreck him. 

"Such a slutty little dancer and you're all mine," Yoongi teases as he continues to rock Jimin's hips against him, watching his puffy rim swallow him whole. "What would your admirers think if they knew you wore a plug on stage while you were doing the splits to tease me?"

"Hyung," Jimin whines, burying his face down into the comforter. 

Yoongi slides his hands to the bed and leans forward, slowly thrusting his hips up and down while walking his hands up to Jimin's armpits, hovering nice and close. The scent of strawberry mixed with a faint, sweaty musk is sticky-sweet enticing, and Yoongi lets his eyes flutter closed as he takes a deep breath in. 

"You even performed for all of our friends wearing a toy," Yoongi rasps beside Jimin's ear. "What would they think of you?"

"Stop," Jimin whines, dragging the word long and whiny. 

Yoongi nuzzles his face against Jimin's nape, nipping at short pink hairs. "Alright, I'll stop teasing you, baby," he mutters sweetly, smiling at the sound of Jimin cooing happily. 

"Mmm, I like it," Jimin admits with a groan, making Yoongi nuzzle harder, grinning at the thought of Jimin feeling shy.

The smacking of skin is heard in lewd, rhythmic bursts. Yoongi fucks Jimin nice and steady, listening for the strained "Ah!" that punctuates each thrust, huffing small sounds of his own. 

Yoongi begins to sit back, careful not to let his hips lose too much rhythm. Once on his knees, Yoongi spreads Jimin wide with both hands and leans his weight into him, fucking him much faster. Jimin jiggles hypnotically, and Yoongi gives him light spanks to each cheek, unable to resist playing with him; delighted by the sound of him squealing. 

"Hyung, I want to cum again," Jimin cries, gripping the floral blanket tight. 

Yoongi wants to watch him cum – wants to touch and tease his cock while praising him and making him sob. As he slowly pulls out, Jimin trembles and groans in protest. Yoongi gives his ass a couple of light taps and mutters, "On your back." 

"Hyung" Jimin complains, elongating the word, making Yoongi smirk. 

Jimin crawls slightly forward and bends at the knees, then flops onto his side, huffing dramatically as if he cannot be bothered to move a single inch more. 

"I know, I know," Yoongi mutters, grabbing Jimin by the hips and pulling him the rest of the way onto his back. Jimin squeals and laughs, spreading his legs wide while watching with eager, mascara-smudged eyes as Yoongi continues to position him right where he wants him. 

"Sorry I can't choose between wanting to see your ass and wanting to see your face," Yoongi grumbles defensively while pumping his cock and reaching for the bottle of lube. He squirts some directly onto his shaft – cool liquid on warm skin – and he smears it in one stroke.

"Wow, and they say chivalry is dead," Jimin teases, lifting his eyebrows playfully with a grin. 

Yoongi slides his length into Jimin's tight warmth in one swift movement, and Jimin's grin falls agape as his back arches. He lets out a deep, pleased moan that Yoongi mirrors with a slow intake of air, filling his lungs. The curve of Jimin's neck, along his chest, and down to his tummy bows delicately taut, and Yoongi maps each inch with his eyes, stunned by his beauty. 

When Jimin settles slowly onto his back, Yoongi reaches forward and slots two fingers into Jimin's mouth. Jimin clamps his lips closed and gently sucks as Yoongi begins to set a steady pace with his hips. 

"Good boy," he praises, and Jimin's eyes blow wide. "So fucking good for me. So pretty and tight and perfect."

Jimin anchors himself onto his elbows, muttering something that sounds like a question, and Yoongi nods, smiling sweetly down at Jimin, watching his hard, leaking cock slap his tummy with each thrust. 

"Perfect, pretty Jiminah. And you're all mine."

More sounds are uttered around Yoongi's fingers as Jimin's eyes roll and his head bobs with the rocking of their bodies. Yoongi reaches between them and rolls his palm over the tip of Jimin's cock, eliciting his eyes to open big and round. 

Already, Jimin looks dazed, back draped slightly with his head held up only enough to suck on Yoongi's fingertips, supported against his elbows. Jimin's fingers slowly dance over the material of his green floral sheet, legs flayed lazily around Yoongi's hips. 

Yoongi slowly tugs at Jimin's length, making him whimper and sputter incoherently. Jimin rocks his hips and squeezes around Yoongi in a rhythm matching Yoongi's thrusts – must be chasing his own high. Seeing Jimin looking dazed and eager to cum again, stuffed with fingers and cock, Yoongi's mind races as he attempts to sort out how he got so fucking lucky.

"'S good," Jimin whines, dropping his head back and letting Yoongi's drool-slick fingers drag over his chin. 

Yoongi continues his pace – a deliberate roll of hips – letting his fingers slowly fall past Jimin's chin, to his chest, tracing curves and dips until finally taking hold of him around the ribs. Gradually, Jimin's arms give way, and he lies back – head first, then shoulders, sinking deeper against green flowers with his eyes hazy and wide. 

"Are you floaty, Jiminah?" Yoongi asks sweetly, wetting his salty-dry lips. 

Jimin hums and crooks a lazy smile, lifting his hands slowly to rub over his pecs and tummy. Yoongi follows the movements, feeling affection swirl and swell behind his ribs. At this pace, he thinks he could fuck Jimin for an eternity if he tried; his pleasure simmers just below the surface nice and steady, with no risk of boiling over too soon. 

"Ah—Yoongi," Jimin gasps, chest heaving and falling. "I'm—"

Yoongi rolls his palm over Jimin's tip and gives him a firm enough squeeze to make him sob. 

"Gonna cum, pretty?" he asks. 

Wide-eyed and mouth droopy-round, Jimin nods. His lips form shapes unvoiced, and Yoongi continues to roll and squeeze, languidly syncopating his quicker thrusts. 

"Cum for me, baby. Get nice and messy."

Jimin's eyes flutter, and his back arches slowly, head and heels digging into the mattress. "Please, please, please," he mutters softly like a prayer, palms flaying and squeezing above his ribs. 

"Relax and let go," Yoongi urges sweetly. "Let yourself float."

As if reacting on command, Jimin's body goes rigid and taut before quaking and sinking – thunder growling from his depths and dispersing out. He spurts tiny piles of cum onto Yoongi's fingers and palm, mouth forming softly-uttered stormy sounds. Even in the throes of incomprehensible bliss, every little thing Jimin does is eloquent; a performer and a muse. 

"Harder," Jimin groans, taking Yoongi by surprise. "P-please, Yoongi, need you."

Yoongi grips Jimin's hips with both hands, smearing cum on his sweat-slick, goosebumped skin. He picks up a pace that has Jimin's legs lifting and stretching, and Yoongi slings both calves against his shoulders before leaning in and taking hold of his hips once more. 

Jimin wails, eyes squeezed as if pained, licking and biting at his reddened lower lip. His arms lift and fall around his head, and he grips onto the bunched-up pink and orange comforter.

"This how you want it?" Yoongi asks, feeling his high build and build, impossible to hold at bay.

"Mmm, 's good," Jimin slurs, opening his eyes wide and smiling before his face falls back into a state of lazy bliss. 

Yoongi would love for Jimin to cum once more but has no idea whether he can. His cock is limp and resting against his patch of cutely trimmed pubic hair, jostling with each slam of Yoongi's hips against his thighs. 

"Not gonna last at this pace," Yoongi warns through grit teeth, his high climbing fast toward its breaking point. 

"Fill me," Jimin mutters dazedly. "Make me messy."

"Say my name," Yoongi rasps as he fights the urge to squeeze his eyes closed, gripping harshly to Jimin's soft hips. 

"Yoo—" Jimin sighs, bowing his back. "Yoongi. Please, Yoongi."

Pleasure courses through Yoongi, flowing like lava in his bloodstream. He keeps his pace steady, holding back from slamming too fast or too deep. Cum and lube squelch around his cock, and the thought of watching it drip from Jimin's used, puffy hole is just the push he needs to reach orgasm. 

"Fuck, Jiminah," Yoongi groans, dragging blunt fingernails in streaks along Jimin's sides. "I'm—ahh, fuck!"

Yoongi's body tenses and releases in waves of pleasure – white-hot and overwhelming. He quakes as he spurts his cum into Jimin's begging, fluttering hole, babbling nonsense, attempting to praise, failing around each syllable. Jimin sobs and squeezes, trying but failing to reach for Yoongi. 

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans forward, hands slipping and crashing into the mattress, dripping sweat from his forehead to Jimin's chest. Now that he is within reach, Jimin reaches and clings, grabbing Yoongi's shoulders and yanking down until Yoongi gives in and falls forward. Pleasure continues to tremble through him – chest heaving and jumpy as he does his best to settle and relax. 

"Holy shit," he mutters into Jimin's clavicle, covering his face in sweat. "That was—"

"Amazing," Jimin coos. 

Yoongi smiles and nods, kissing anywhere his lips reach in slow movements. "Amazing."

Where they lay in the center of the bed, Yoongi is unable to stretch his legs far before hitting the headboard, so they stay in a ball while he catches his breath and litters Jimin's shoulder, neck, and chin with affection. It takes time, but Jimin begins to come back to earth, clinging a little more purposefully. 

"You made me messy," he mutters with more clarity than Yoongi has heard for a while. 

"Lemme see," Yoongi says as he sits up, groaning from his soft cock sliding from where it was nestled nice and warm. 

Jimin groans shyly, covering his face with his hands as Yoongi sits up and lifts his spread legs. He puts up a tiny amount of resistance, but Yoongi holds firmly, nibbling his lip, trusting Jimin to use his safe word if he really does not want to be teased. 

Dropping a leg to the side, Yoongi uses his thumb to press pearly liquid back into Jimin's puckered hole, grinning like an idiot when Jimin whimpers, legs shaking. 

"Messy baby," Yoongi teases, earning his arm a light smack from Jimin's foot. 

Yoongi pulls his fingers away and watches as Jimin tenses, causing the cum to dribble back out. He rubs his hands over Jimin's shins and calves, watching as Jimin heavy-blinks at the ceiling. 

"Shower?"

Jimin's gaze finds Yoongi's, and he smiles, then nods. "Carry me?" he asks with a cute bat of his lashes that makes Yoongi's heart go haywire.

And although Yoongi makes a show of rolling his eyes and being indignant, he gets up and stretches, then turns his back to Jimin and taps his shoulder. 

"Get on."

"Ooh, piggyback?" Jimin shouts, and Yoongi turns his head in time to see Jimin sit high on his knees and fling himself over Yoongi's shoulders. 

Yoongi links his arms around sweaty thighs and has to bend and hop a few times to get Jimin in place – a mildly humiliating task while nude – then he is off, kicking discarded clothing items along the way. 

"We should take a bath," Jimin mutters into Yoongi's shoulder. 

Yoongi hums and nods, turning left into the hallway and again into the bathroom. "Anything you want."

Although Yoongi would love to dote on Jimin hand and foot, he is grateful when Jimin slides off his back and begins the bath, finding sweetly-scented bubble products to squeeze into the stream and controlling the temperature. Jimin slides out of the lace garter and mesh stockings, and sinks into the tub when the water is barely a few inches high. Yoongi presses a kiss on his forehead before leaving to fetch a glass of cool water from the kitchen, lingering just a moment to take in the sunflower pan holders and mismatched cooking utensils. 

Yoongi returns with the glass to his lips, taking slow, steady sips and smiling over the rim. 

"Sit up and drink this," he instructs a sleepy Jimin, whose cheeks are pinkened from the warm water. 

Once the bath is full, Yoongi slots himself behind Jimin, fitting perfectly with his legs outstretched. He rubs Jimin's shoulders and litters him with kisses. And when the water cools, he insists they shower off, helping Jimin finger the cum from his ass while licking deep into his mouth. 

"I could get used to this," Jimin groans as Yoongi wraps a towel tightly around his hips and uses another to squeeze the remaining water from his hair. 

"Good," Yoongi responds against his lips, finding it impossible to spend too many minutes without touching and kissing. "Want you to get used to this."

"Stay the night," Jimin whines, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's middle and walking him backward out of the bathroom. 

Yoongi smiles and nips at petal lips. "That was the plan."

"Stay tomorrow night, too," Jimin groans as they hobble out into the hallway, bumping Yoongi's elbow against the doorframe enough to make him hiss. 

"Won't you get tired of me?" Yoongi barely utters slightly pained against Jimin's soft, greedy mouth.

Jimin releases their hug and pulls Yoongi by the hand back to bed. He has a pep in his step as he gathers his phone – shutting off the music, finally – and finds the lube bottle tangled in the blanket. 

"Doubtful," Jimin finally says as he crawls into bed and plops down, yanking Yoongi's hand until he sits and lays beside him. 

"Alright," Yoongi grins, wrapping himself around Jimin and pulling him close, chest to chest, on their sides. His hair is still damp, but he is unconcerned when Jimin beckons so adamantly. With a gentle teasing tone, he says, "I'll cancel all my foreseeable plans and live only to serve you."

Jimin smiles and hums, saying, "Good," into Yoongi's mouth. 

In a tangle of tongues and limbs, Yoongi sighs and sinks, unable to hold back the affection that overflows from him. He thinks he could also get used to this. 

thank you so much for reading!!! reblogs & comments make the world go 'round!!! and likes are super appreciated too!!!

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[sleepless-writes]

Kitty Gang (Part 4)

Pairing: Agust D x Reader, Baby J x Reader

Genre: Cyber Punk Au, Unrequited love, f2l

Warnings: Swear Words, Blood, Sexual Themes, Drug use

Words: 2.368 Words

Note: Hi, I hope you like this part of my first fanfic!

The Party Agust meant was not like I imagined. In my head, he knows some shady people who are living in the streets of Nightlife City. People who are taking drugs to escape reality. People who look twice their age because the city makes them older but suddenly we were in front of a huge apartment complex. A tall building, illuminated by the surrounding buildings. Windows bigger than me, the cars parking in front leading to the conclusion that only the richest people can afford to live in this area. It was another world and it seemed like Agust was a part of it somehow.

„Don't emberres me okay, he is my best customer.“ Agust said. „Woah Yoongi I didn’t know you would sell drugs to people who can actually afford your stuff.“ JK replied. „Shut up kid.“

We went up the elevator. I was too stunned to speak. Part of it was still because of the job but the fact that I was never at a party like that didn’t help either. Sure I was clubbing from time to time but the safety of my room was more my thing. Yoongi had to feel that I was still not fully there so he held me close to him. The other boys were excited and talked endlessly.

„Just stay close to me, some guys don’t know how to behave.“ Yoongi murmured in my ear. I just nodded. The elevator stopped at the penthouse.

We could hear the loud beats and the bass from outside but as soon as Yoongi rang the bell someone shouted: „Put the volume down! Maybe it's the police again!“ But when the man appeared at the door and saw Yoongi his face lit up. „Agust D. Man, never thought you would really come to one of my parties!“ He said. „And you brought people too! Never imagined you had so many friends!“ Yoongi just rolled his eyes at this statement and shook the guy's hand. „Thanks for inviting me.“ „Sure thing D, anything for my favorite dealer.“

And with no time we had the time of our lives. V and Baby J danced in the crowd, already surrounded by beautiful girls and boys. Jin and RM were located in the open kitchen and talked with a drink in their hands, while JK flirted with a girl on the balcony, sharing a joint. Yoongi had still a hand on my back while we walked to a fluffy-looking couch.

As we sat he asked: „how are you feeling?“ „I would feel better with a drink I guess.“ „No problem, let me chill for a sec then I bring you something.“ „Thanks, Agust.“ „Sure.“ He became quiet. After a while, he asked: „Y/N do you want to leave us?“ I was stunned jet again. „Why would you believe that?“ „I didn't want to pry but I saw that you looked for a train ticket out of the city earlier this week, so I thought you wanted to go. Sorry.“ I remembered. When I stayed with him in his bed. I was sure he slept. „No, I just was in my head and missed my hometown.“ I said. „I think you would like it there. It's peaceful and near the sea.“ „Sounds nice, promise to take me with you if you ever go back, okay? Don’t leave me here all alone.“ I grinned. „If you looked closely you already know, I wanted to buy two tickets. Even if I think, you wouldn’t be alone here too.“ He hid his face in my shoulder. He was embarrassed. „Maybe not alone, but I only feel like myself with you.“ He raised his head and searched for my eyes. „You know, I sell so many drugs to people, I took so many myself but nothing hit me like you did.“ My heart stopped a beat and decided to speed up a second later. „Yoongi, I…I think…“ I couldn’t form the right words to say. I wanted to tell him that I love the time we spent together, that I feel safe with him, that I want him with me forever. And maybe my heart already knew what I wanted but my mind was thinking about Jimin. Feelings were the hard stuff. „Don't worry, we talk about it later. I get us a drink. Just wait here.“

And with that he was gone and I had time to look around. The music was loud again and most people danced in the living room. Others were standing on the side and talked or kissed. The lights were dimmed and neon light in purple, pink and blue gave the apartment a dreamy glow. The furniture was white and black and expensive looking but the owner seemed not really interested that a girl was dancing on his marble kitchen counter with her high heels on. The owner sat in a big armchair by a window, he took a little red pill and rested his head on the backrest. Someone shouted: „I'm gonna punch you asshole.“ Agust was still gone. The people here didn't seem old, not like the folks on the streets.

Suddenly Jimin appeared next to me on the couch he looked high. Pupil big and smile even bigger. „Isn’t that an amazing night, dove? So many beautiful things to play with.“ „I guess so.“ I replied quite. I was tired. „Come on! You have to enjoy this part of the city as well if you always focus on the shitty things, you can’t become happy at all.“ „I don't know if I can, we will leave at some point and we have to face the shitty reality again.“ „Wrong, its not the reality that’s bullshit, it's your mindset. If you had money, what would you do? I tell you what I think, you would still sit in your room, your laptop in front of you and you would still hate the city. Maybe your room would be bigger, above the clouds so you can ignore what’s going on outside but that’s all.“ I thought about it, he was probably right but I can’t seem to be like him. What’s wrong with me? „Love, don’t think, just feel for a moment, focus on the music how your heartbeat is reacting to the bass, focus on the sweet smell of all the smoke settling over us.“ He gave me a baby blue pill. „Focus on me.“ He looked me deep in the eyes, they were smiling like his whole appearance. „You are so fucking high.“ I told him with an unimpressed expression. „So what? You could too. We could live in the same reality for one night.“ He shrugged his shoulders. His eyes never stopped watching me. „Fuck it.“ I said and before I could think too much I swallowed the pill. Jimin laughed and I felt my heart beating to the beat of the music for a moment, then I joined Jimin in Wonderland. Everything was so much louder and I wished Yoongi would be here with me. I wanted to see his gummy smile so badly. Jimin was on his feet and dragged me with him on the dance floor. V was still there. He hugged me when he saw me and jelled over the music: „Now you finally a real part of the Kitty Gang!“ He looked proud and I smiled. He spun me around and now Jimin was in front of me. He looked like an angel and a demon at the same time. When he took my hand in his and guided my body to dance against his I felt free.

Yoongi came back to the couch just to find it empty. He panicked. He blamed himself for leaving you alone and he blamed Namjoon and Jin for stopping him coming back faster. He had a million scenarios in his head about what could possibly happen to you but he hoped you were just with someone from the gang. „Fuck!“ He cursed and stepped into the crowd.

In the meantime I danced with Jimin, it was hot in the room and my body was even hotter. I tried to open my eyes but they were sleepy, my mind was wide awake. It was hard to think of something else than Jimin. The room spun upon me, I'm gonna fall, I was sure about that. Fall...fall down the rabbit hole, but Jimin was there to catch me. „Stay with me bunny. The night just begun.“ Es whispered in my ear. „Let's get us out of here.“ „Tell Yoongi that we are going home.“ I „Tch, I help you to forget everything else but me.“ And with these words, he put his lips on mine. It wasn’t how I imagined our first kiss. I thought it would be full of affection and with butterflies in my stomach but he worked fast and his lips were first on my lips but soon he traveled to my ear and then my neck. He bit me playfully. V cheered next to us. His words were just mumbling to me. Jimin stopped abruptly and took my hand. Then he told V: „ If you see Yoongi, tell him I bring Y/N home, she is done.“ V just winked at us.

After a while Yoongi stood on the balcony, cigarette in his mouth and eyes closed, he looked everywhere and asked everyone he knew. The only ones he didn’t find were Jimin and Taehyung. Maybe they took her with them but nobody was answering their phones. He was tired. But the moment he wanted to go back inside, Taehyung stepped into the cool air next to him. „Hey did you see Y/N? I lost her?“ „Yeah, but don’t worry, Jimin brought her home. She was high as fuck.“ He replied. „You tell me I shouldn’t worry when fucking Jimin is with Y/N?“ Yoongi almost yelled. He panicked again. „Chill, they went home.“ „Fine, I’m out. Bye.“ „Hey, let them have some fun.“ But Yoongi was gone. He didn’t care about the people he pushed out of the way, or JK who wanted to smoke with him. He was too far gone. And as he arrived home, Y/N came out of the bathroom, with a lazy grin. She waved at him, happy to see him, but he only saw the red marks on her neck. Was he too late?

Worst decision I decided on ever. I told Agust that Baby J kissed me at the party just a few seconds ago and that he was now waiting in his room. He is waiting, because he wants me, just me. I felt like flying and dancing and all that shit people always talk about in movies. Yoongi didn’t smile at all. I thought he would be happy for me, just a little bit but right now his face was grossed out. Was there something I missed, something I can't remember?

„Y/N can’t you see that he just wants fun for one night, he’s not serious!“ He spoke through gritted teeth. „Maybe that’s okay with me! I can have fun too!“ I shouted. Why did I shout? „We both know that you have feelings for him, but you are stupid and can’t see that he just thinks you are cute and an easy fuck.“ He answered coldly.

I couldn't believe that he said things like that, I thought we were friends. Why was it that hard to accept that someone like Baby J was interested in me. The neon lights of the outside world lighted up the dim apartment. Agust's face looked even more closed off than before. I was angry but decided to ignore him. I pushed him out of my way. Ready to enter Baby J's room. Agust tried to stop me. He put his hand on the handle and blocked the door. „Please Y/N. You just get hurt.“ He looked me in the eyes. „I feel that something is between us and it's from both sides, so please let us explore that feeling some more. Maybe…“ he stopped and shook his head like he couldn’t think straight. „Maybe you and I are made for each other, maybe it's you and me against this fucking city and you are just so focused on Jimin because he gave you a new chance. Please try to listen to your heart.“

At that moment Baby J opened the door and watched between us for a while. Then he smirked and asked: „Yoongi do you wanna join? I wouldn’t mind. But please hurry, I'm getting cold all by myself.“ Yoongi let go of the door and backed off. I looked at him for a second but got going into Baby J's room. As soon as the door went shut, he kissed me. And while he pressed me against his door, I heard the front door went shut. Yoongi left the apartment.

Baby J worked fast and hard. His pillowy lips ghosted along my jaw and my neck. Soft moans escaped me and I could feel his smile against my heated skin. My body started to feel weak and Baby J took the change to take me to the bed.

„Jimin, I'm so happy, I liked you for a while now. I never thought you could feel the same.“ „Of course I like you. We make great partners don’t you think?“ „Partners? Like a couple right?“ „Couple? Love, I like you, I really do…“ he began to stock. I have to admit that I never heard him being loose for words but I also didn’t want him to have to look for the right words now. „Listen Y/N, I see you and I am happy, I wanted to get you out of that little shell of yours since I saw you the first time and I really want to feel you right now but I don’t do relationships. I…I could never stop falling in love with a million random people in a week. Kiss men and women, left and right and it wouldn’t be fair.“ „Why did you kiss me then?“ „Because I wanted to.“ He answered. Shit.

I couldn’t stay any longer. After a second of processing what just happened I left and went into my room. I felt nothing. No grief, no anger, nothing. I screamed into my pillow. I fucked up.

Baby J just sighed and called V. He would never waste a night.

[bangtanloverboys]

something sick & twisted (i) // jjk

summary - all your life you considered yourself to be a good kid. you got good grades, went to church every sunday, didn’t go to any parties. you did anything you could to keep yourself on the path to heaven, even if it meant hiding some of the darkest parts of you to yourself. that was how you lived until one day, your no-good roommates decided to take you up to an abandoned cabin in the woods, where you begin to feel yourself corrupt from the inside out

pairing - demon!jungkook x church boy!reader

genre - suspense, smut

word count - 11.4k

warnings - internalized homophobia, catholic guilt, reader is a bit of a straight edge, kinda incubus!jungkook but also not really?, toxic friendships, drugs use (marijuana), driving while intoxicated/high, head injury, hospitals, kinda unconsensual touching?, clubbing, alcohol consumption, kitty gang!jimin shows up, sex dream, blowjob, paranoia, sleep deprivation, (former) youth group leader!namjoon, homophobic parents, masturbation, shame, lot’s of conflicted feelings, voyeurism, some degradation, slight man handling, name calling, spit as lube/improper prep (please don’t do that), loss of virginity, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, top!jungkook, bottom!reader, gay sex, unprotected sex (also don’t do that), non-explicitng praying during sex (um), crying during sex, kinda dacryphilia, marking, accidental selling of the soul

author’s note - the infamous gay demon jungkook is here. . . and here’s here to fuck shit up. i would like to note that if you are religious, i do not recommend reading this. @tipsydipsydo​ since you asked to be tagged. . . hope you enjoy also big shout out to @crazy4myself​ for being my beta for this ily

part ii

All throughout your life, you knew there was something off about you. You could never figure out what it was exactly, but you knew you weren’t like the other boys at your church. It got even more apparent when you started school. You don’t know what it was as you’d play in the dirt, on the field, on the playground with all the other guys; goofing around and having fun. But there was just a piece of you that knew you couldn’t relate to them, entirely.

One day, you were walking past the swingset where a couple of girls were whispering amongst themselves. Curious, you circled around them to get a bit closer. Being as careful as possible, you were able to get close enough to hear them. 

“I think Lucas is the cutest boy in class!”

“No! He’s not!”

“It’s Lucas! And I’m gonna marry him, he’s gonna be my boyfriend one day.”

You were taken aback by their conversation. Not because they were talking about boys, but because they were wrong. The cutest boy in your class was Eric, the boy who sat next to you during reading time and always read Percy Jackson. You’d peer over the edge of your own book to watch his eyes wildly follow the lines on the paper. Sure you lost points for not reading the required amount of pages you were supposed to, but it was worth it.

It wasn’t until the following Sunday that you learned it was wrong.

You sat in horror as the preacher talked about how boys liking other boys was wrong and that they were going to burn in Hell. Shame burned deep in your soul as he continued to talk about how much God hated queer folk. If God hated homosexuals. . . did He hate you too? Looking at your parents, you saw them nod in agreement. Did they hate you too?

After that mass, you made a point not to sit next to Eric anymore. Not that he noticed anyways, he wasn’t exactly your friend. Every night, you prayed to God begging Him not to hate you. To change you, to understand that you didn’t want to be that way. But every day, you still woke up the same.

It wasn’t until you were in a middle school sex ed class that homosexuality was brought up again. The teacher asked the class what they homosexuality was. Prepared with what you had learned from church, you raised your hand proudly, ready to answer. When she called on you, you answered that it was a sin. Within an instant the class erupted into gasps. The teacher gave you a pitiful smile before telling you that it wasn’t a sin and there was nothing inherently wrong with it.

That Tuesday afternoon, you swore the sun shined a little brighter. If it wasn’t wrong, then maybe God didn’t hate you! He loved everyone, maybe the gay thing was a mistake and He did love you! You weren’t going to burn in Hell! When you got home from school and your parents asked you what you learned, you eagerly responded with what the teacher said that being gay wasn’t a sin and that it was okay. The joy you felt earlier melted away into fear as you watched your parents’ faces harden. Your mom stood up from the dinner table, saying she needed to make a call. Leaving you alone with your father, who talked with you for the next 30 minutes about how that teacher was wrong and that you should never ever be gay. You were transferred out of that school.

Years passed and you buried those thoughts and feelings deep inside. You locked it away in a little box and threw away the key. God loved you and He wouldn’t make you gay. . . But it didn’t make sense as to why you were.

Knowing your mortal sin, you did everything in your power to make up for it. To prove to Him that you were never going to act on your desire and be the child of God you were: you prayed every night before bed, went to church every Sunday with your family, attended every Youth Group field trip; you never swore, drank, smoked, partied. Nothing. You were the picture perfect child to the picture perfect family. 

You even had a girlfriend! Although not for very long. Her name was Aera, one of if not the most beautiful girls in school. You dated her for a few months before it ended abruptly. You took her to Senior Prom and when you were driving home, she got rather. . . handsy. By the time you parked, she all but pounced on you. Straddling you, she kissed you feverishly. You sat there frozen, not knowing what to do as her hand traveled down south, where you were still soft in your pants. After a few minutes of you not responding, she pulled away, eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you gay or something?”

“No!” You blurted out, “I-I’m just not ready!”

“Well when are you gonna be ready? It’s been 3 months and I’ve been hinting at it for weeks! Hell, that was the first time we even kissed!” She exclaimed as she pulled herself off of you.

“I-I want to wait until marriage,” you muttered, the excuse falling flat on your tongue. It was true though, you wanted to wait for marriage and wait for the right person. But if you were honest with yourself, that wasn’t the entire reason. 

Rolling her eyes at you, she told you to call her when you weren’t gonna be such a prude. You didn’t call her back.

The remainder of your time at highschool, you didn’t date. Claiming to be too busy studying and your parents didn’t mind. They liked the idea of a studious son, they were proud of it also. Bragging to the other people at your parish on how you never did anything bad, like most of the other kids at your school. The closer you got to graduation, the more they started suggesting Catholic colleges and Universities nearby that either they went to or thought were good schools; but you didn’t want those. You wanted to go to school in a different place, meet and see new people. It took a bit of cooperation, but you were finally able to convince your parents to let you go to a regular college as long as you held up to three rules: stay on top of your school work, don’t go out partying, and most importantly, go to church. 

All of which you managed pretty fine; you were only at college to get an education, nothing more and nothing less. For the past 3 years, those rules still held up and your past roommates were pretty understanding of them and respected your space. 

That was until you got two new roommates, Taehyung and Soekjin, who made an unending game of trying to get you to abandon those rules. A few weeks into the semester, they seemed to have dropped the issue, or so you had thought. 

One night, you were running late for an evening Saturday mass. You’d accidentally missed church last Sunday and it was nearing the weekend and this was the only time you felt you could make it up. It was by mere coincidence that your roommates were also going out that night and offered to drop you off. Relief flooded through you as you accepted the offer, they finally seemed to have learned to respect you. The three of you climbed into Seokjin’s car and you were off. A few minutes go by and you spotted the church in the windshield, and got ready for them to turn into the parking lot. Only the turn wasn’t never made. 

“Uh, guys? You passed it.” You questioned, gesturing to the building that was slowly shrinking into the distance. Looking up, you saw both of them grinning at each other. 

Seokjin made eye contact with you in his rearview mirror. “We know.”

Turning in his seat to face you, Taehyung began to speak. “We just thought that you should be spending your Saturday night doing something fun! You’re almost 21 and you’re still following your parents' rules. Live a little.”

“Those-those aren’t my parents’ rules, I willingly want to go?!” Your explanation fell on deaf ears as Taehyung shifted back in his seat to face the front. He opened up the center console, digging around until he pulled out a plastic baggie with two neatly rolled joints. “What are you-”

Before the question even fully left your mouth, he took one of them out and to his lips. Pulling a lighter from his pockets, he lit the joint. He took a deep inhale before facing you again. “Wanna hit?” Blowing the a thick cloud of smoke in your face.

“No-!” Your shout was cut off with a cough as you accidentally inhaled the smoke. “Turn around now. I’m not comfortable with this!”

“Relax, dude. We’re almost there.” Seokjin chimed in as Taehyung passed the joint to him, his eyes never leaving the road as he took a hit. “You’ve done nothing but study and church, study and church. The school year is almost over and you haven’t done anything!”

“Because I didn’t want to do anything else, now where are we going?!” You were close to screaming as you looked out the windows, seeing nothing but trees and wilderness surrounding the road. You felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. “Turn around please!”

“Okay dude, you seriously need to chill.” Taehyung scoffed, blatantly ignoring your pleas. “Either take a hit, or shut up.”

Tears that welled up in your eyes burned as you blinked them back. There were many things you allowed Taehyung and Seokjin to get away with so far: you never bagered them about the smoking or the drinking, or coming home late and intoxicated. In fact, there was more than enough occasion where you’d walk in on them either giving or receiving sexual acts to both women and men alike! You’d ignore the burn in your cheeks and the dark twist in your gut as you slammed the door shut. You respected them and their choices, you had hoped they would do the same for you. But you had thought wrong. 

Helpless in the situation, you bit your tongue. Your hand immediately went to the cross that hung around your neck, trying to find any comfort for your current situation. Closing your eyes, you began to pray. Praying for God to do anything to help you get out of this car and back home. Yet nothing happened. You knew God worked in mysterious ways, but you really needed a miracle right about now and the lack of one wasn’t making your chances look any brighter. 

Fifteen minutes had passed when the car finally stopped. Opening your eyes, you saw the headlights shine onto the front of an old hunting cabin. You watched as Taehyung stubbed out the joint on the leather of the seat, adding onto the several other burn marks along the edge of the seat. 

“We’re here.” Seokjin announced as he opened his door, stepping out into the cool night air, the smoke curling around him.

You remained seated in the car, refusing to move. 

“Come on, Y/N! We promise it’s nothing too bad.” Taehyung whined. “We just want to show you this, then we’ll take you back to the dorm.”

Taking a deep breath, you met his eyes. “Promise?”

“Scouts honor,” he responded, pressing his hand over his heart. 

“Five minutes,” was all you said as you climbed out of the car. Taehyung let out a little cheer as you took in the sight of the cabin before you. The front windows appeared to be broken and the deck looked half rotted away. Despite all the clear evidence pointing to it being abandoned, you felt like something was staring at you from inside. Whatever it was, it clearly wasn’t friendly.

“Alright, let’s go.” Taehyung giddily rubbed his hands together as Seokjin turned on his phone's flash.

Taking careful steps, you all made your way up to the front door that was creaking as it swang idly in the door frame. The feeling of being watched only grew stronger the longer you stood on the front step. Seokjin pushed the door completely open, shining his phone light inside. From the small light, you caught glimpses of red spray paint and taxidermied deer heads on the walls. He took a couple steps forward, Taehyung following close behind. You were about to take your step in, but Seokjin’s phone flashed over some of the graffiti, revealing several pentagrams and demonic looking symbols sprayed all over the walls. You froze in the doorway, your mind and body refusing to step foot near unholy imagery. 

“Get in here!” Taehyung grabbed your wrist, trying to drag you into the cabin by force.

“No. You showed me the freaky house. Take me home.” You resisted his grip, but unfortunately he was stronger than you and pulled you in. As you stumbled in, you heard a loud crunch underfoot. Flinching, you slowly lifted your foot to see the broken fragments of what looked like an animal skull. Feeling the scream coming, you slapped your hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle it.

Seokjin scoffed at your reaction. “It’s already dead, not like you can hurt it anymore.”

The tears you’d been holding back for so long began to blur your vision as you glared at him. Fed up with your roommates’ behavior, you turned on your heel, ready to walk back out towards the way you came. You did not want to spend another second in the demonic household, but Taehyung stepped in front of you, preventing you from leaving. 

“Nothing is going to come grab you, bro. There’s nothing’s gonna happen.” As if on cue, one of the mounted deer heads fell to the ground, startling you. “Okay maybe stuff is gonna fall because shit’s old as hell. But isn’t this place cool? Seokjin and I heard some of our classmates talk about this place and we wanted to check it out.”

“Yeah, some years ago some kids tried summoning a demon and they started doing messed up shit, like they had no conscience whatsoever.” Seokjin explained as he looked closer at the symbols on the wall. “They got locked up before anything could do anything worse, but they all blamed it on the demon they summoned. Telling them to give into their dark desires.” As he talked, you felt Taehyung standing closer behind you. Almost uncomfortably close. “And according to them, the demon is still around, still at this house.”

“If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not funny. Can we leave now?” You could feel Taehyung practically breathing down your neck, causing heat to crawl over your body. Every bone in your body was telling you to run, but with Taehyung right behind you, you know he’d grab you and keep you here even longer. 

Rustling on the other side of the room had your eyes snap over. There stood Taehyung, poking at the fallen deer head with his foot. A strange mix of relief and fear washed over your body. If Taehyung was over then who was standing behind you?

 Your brain tried to rationalize the situation. Perhaps you were on edge and imagining things, the stuff about demons getting to your head. Or maybe you were contact high from being trapped in that car for so long. No matter how many rational solutions you came up with, none of them felt right. You felt the presence get closer to you, hot air brushing against the shell of your ear like someone was breathing right on it; the faintest touch of lips grazing against your skin. 

“Boo.”

You let out a blood curdling scream as you whipped your body around, throwing your arms about in an attempt to shake off the heated presence that remained attached to your body. You heard the concern calls of Seokjin and Taehyung, trying their best to calm you down. Ignoring them, you bolted out the door, ready to make your way back towards the car and away from this place forever. As you bounded across the deck, you hit a weak spot. The rotted wood giving away to your weight, before you knew it, the world went dark. 

The next thing you knew you were lying down on a bed, machines beeping beside you and antiseptics filled your senses. You were in a hospital. In seconds it all started coming back to you: your roommates, the cabin, the paranoia, the presence. All coupled with a painful throbbing in your skull, reminding you of how you got there. 

Peeling your eyes open, it was bright and blurry; you were able to make out two figures on the other side of the room. They must’ve noticed you waking up because you heard hushed comments and a set of footsteps left the room. Before you knew it, Taehyung appeared overhead. “H-hey Y/N, you with us?”

“What happened?” You muttered.

“You hit your head running out- listen, the doctor-”

“He’s finally awake!” A female voice cut him off, directing both of your attention to her. “Hey Y/N, I’m Dr. Lee. How’s your head?”

“Hurts. How long was I out?” You questioned as the world got more into focus. Glancing out the window, you could see the sky was still dark so it couldn’t have been too long. . . unless it’s been longer than that.

“Only a few hours,” the doctor reassured you with a smile. “Your friends here said you took a tumble at a party, right?”

Your eyes darted to Tae and Jin, who were behind the doctor silently pleading for you to go along with it. They knew what they did was wrong, seeing as they technically kidnapped you. They put your life at risk. They deserved to face the consequences of their actions, you technically could sue them. But then the face of your parents came into view. You knew that if you fessed up about them driving high and taking you to some demonic abandoned cabin, you’d never hear the end of it. You couldn’t tell the truth. You’ve never lied before, and the mere thought of it had you feeling worse than your already pounding head. 

“Right.” Your voice was flat. Behind Dr. Lee, you saw Seokjin and Tae quietly sing your praises as you lied to her, feeling sick to your stomach. 

“Gotcha. Good news is your ankle isn’t sprained or broken, but considering your head injury we’d like to keep you overnight for observation.” She explained. “Your friends are more than welcome to stay-”

“No!” You cut her off. Dr. Lee gave you a bewildered look. “Sorry, it’s just. We’re roommates and maybe I can get some sleep.” You chuckled, to which she seemed to understand. After a few more minutes of checking you up, she told you a nurse would be around with some meds for you then bid you goodbye, leaving you alone with Taehyung and Seokjin once again.

“Hey man, you’re a real one-”

“Just go. I’m tired.” You huffed. While you doubted you’d get any sleep, you wanted to be alone. You needed to process what happened in that cabin and you didn’t need the two buffoons who brought you there to freak you out about it more. Plus, Seokjin snored so a quiet night away from the dorm was more than ideal, it doesn't matter that it’s spent in a hospital. 

Nodding, they said goodbye, mentioning that they’ll pick you up in the morning. Door closed, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally alone, you leaned back onto the hospital bed, all the energy draining from your body. You figured that while you were waiting for a nurse to drop off your meds, it wouldn’t hurt resting your eyes a bit. 

However the rest you received wasn’t exactly restful or comfortable; the dry sheets itching at your exposed skin and a sticky heat crawling down your back. Shifting in the bed, you tried to ignore it, thinking it could possibly be the IV going through your body. The heat only grew though, inching all over your body. As the heat moved, it slowly felt more like. . . hands? Was someone touching you? You laid still, trying to gauge if someone else was in the room with you. Yet you heard nothing; no breathing, no rustling of clothing, nothing. Yet you felt someone was in the room with you and was touching you.

The heat made its way along the front of your torso, circling its way over your pelvic bone. The invisible hands dragged their way over until they rested right above your dick. You held your breath, wanting this sick nightmare to be over. The heart monitor you were connected to was beeping speedily as the unseen fingertips started to drop lower and lower. You could feel the large palm of the hand begin to press against you, causing all the blood in your body to rush towards your cock. This had never happened before. You weren’t sure if you hated it or wanted it to continue. You didn’t move though, your body frozen in a silent dilemma of letting it happen or opening your eyes and confronting the person touching you.

Opposite side of the room, you heard the door click and suddenly the heat left you. Your eyes snapped open, finding a nurse with a tray of medication in hand. Your head swung about the room, but you saw no one else. 

“Sorry if I woke you, I have your meds.” The nurse chuckled. You felt your heart was still racing but the monitor's rhythmic beat was unphased as she approached you. She couldn’t have been that much older than you, you noted. She also seemed to be very peppy for the late hour; but you welcomed it, liking her cheerful attitude as a small distraction. She handed you a small cup of colorful capsules, explaining which ones were which and a bottle of water. 

“Thank you,” you responded after you downed the meds, gulping down the water. After that strange dream? Hot flash? your body welcomed the cool liquid. 

“It’s no problem,” the nurse reassured as you handed her back the small plastic cup. “If you need anything else, press this button right here.” She pointed to the remote that was tucked in the side of the bed, the button labeled NURSE, as she made her way towards the door. 

“Got it.” You nodded. Laying back against the pillow, you shut your eyes. But you could still feel someone was in the room. Unsure if the nurse had left yet, you peeked out of one eye to see if you were alone and you were. You chalked it up to residual paranoia from the dream, but you still felt watched. Closing your eyes again, you muttered a prayer under your breath. You prayed for God to give you a speedy recovery, and for Him to give you a sense of peace from the evening's events. After that, you were able to sleep a bit more easily, yet you still felt a presence in the corner of the room watching you.

A few days have passed since the cabin incident as you’ve dubbed it, and you haven’t spoken much to either Taehyung or Seokjin since they picked you up from the hospital after you received a clean bill of health. Which was an awfully hard task, considering you all shared a dorm. But it was needed. Sooner the semester got over the sooner you’d never have to see them again. 

Unfortunately the strange hot presence you felt at the hospital came with you, always crawling around the back of your neck. You swore you could hear it whispering in your ear sometimes, making you think of things you never in a million years would do. You’d find yourself staring at the half empty bottles of alcohol that Seokjin and Taehyung would leave around the room, imagining yourself drinking them and getting drunk. Or late at night right after you said your nightly prayer, your mind would flash back to one of the many times you walked in on Taehyung going down on some guy you remember seeing on campus; you’d imagine yourself in Taehyung’s place. On your knees, your mouth stuffed full of- 

You’d manage to catch yourself before your mind wandered a bit too far. It was like the angel and devil on your shoulder; only your angel was missing, leaving you alone with the devil, telling you to give in to your darkest desires. 

The thoughts not only plagued your mind when you were awake but when you slept as well. You were never even able to fully remember the dream in its entirety but you were always able to remember the heat that engulfed your entire body and a dark pair of eyes, staring deep into you. You could still feel the eyes on you when you’d wake in the middle of the night, your dick hard and begging to cum. One time, you were unconsciously grinding into your mattress, and you knew how close you were. It was so tempting to give in and let yourself go, the eyes still freshly seared into your mind. But you couldn’t. It was dirty and wrong. With tears in your eyes, you silently prayed to be free of the torment. 

The morning of your twenty-first birthday rolled around. It was a Friday, you had nothing to really do that day. Peeling your eyes open, you stared up at Taehyung’s bed above you, not wanting to look down because you already knew what would happen if you looked. Unfortunately, you’re  getting used to waking up with an nearing on painful morning wood, you have begun a routine of cold showers in the morning, not wanting your roommates to see you. Gathering your things, you made your way to the showers. Maybe if the water gets cold enough, it’ll freeze the hot presence that’s attached itself to you. You think that every time you take the shower, and still as soon as you leave the icy shower, the heat creeps right back up your body. 

By the time you return to your dorm, Seokjin and Taehyung are awake; Taehyung still sitting in his bunk, legs dangling over the side. When you pushed open the door, he met your eyes and a boxy smile grew on his face. 

“Ay, there he is! Man of the hour! Happy birthday, dude!” He cheered as you dropped your pajamas into your dirty laundry.

“Thanks,” you sighed as you laid back down on your bed, pulling out your phone. 

“You gonna do anything today?” Seokjin asked.

You shrugged, you didn’t really have any plans. You didn’t have many friends on campus, one of the many sacrifices you made for focusing on your education. Then with your parents living a few hours away, it was unlikely you’d be able to celebrate with them. Your parents didn’t like drinking anything other than a glass of wine at dinner. Having tasted wine already multiple times each time you had communion, you don’t think you’d have a good time.

“You’re not doing anything for your 21st? You’re a full on legal adult, and you’re not gonna do anything?” 

“Yeah, let us treat you to something.” Jin offered. “See it as a way for us to repay you for. . . you know.” He added on, not so subtly referencing the start of your constant mental torture. 

You opened your mouth to decline, but the words that came out were: “Sure, why not.”

The statement had both you and your roommates frozen in shock. You can’t believe you agreed to that, you want to be mad. You want to be angry and take it back, but the words don’t come out, stuck in the back of your throat. Tae and Jin ignore your state of shock and let out a cheer, happy that you finally agreed to do something quote-unquote not lame.

The entire rest of the day you tried to figure out a way to cancel on them; making up a phone appointment with your mother, a test coming up, a book you wanted to read. Ever since the night where you lied to the doctor, you’ve found lying a bit easier and it was something else added onto your growing list of sins. But the voice in the back of your head told you that they were small, innocent lies. They shouldn’t have that big of any consequence, right?

They dismissed each and every excuse you threw at them, adamant that they were going to give you the best birthday ever. When you refused to get ready, Seokjin all but threw some of your nice Sunday clothes at you after pulling them from your dresser. With no other choice, you let it happen. Best case scenario, they take you to some bar and they’ll buy you something strong that’ll make you sick in minutes, forcing the night to end there. Alas, it didn’t appear they were taking you to a bar.

No, they were taking you to a new club that had just opened that weekend downtown. The three of you waited a near hour in line outside the building before getting let in. Once inside, it looked just as one would expect a club to look. Colorful lights danced across the overly crowded room, the bass of the music thumping loud in your ears. You hated yourself for agreeing to going in the first place, yet that twisted part in you was intrigued by it all. Several times you caught yourself staring at the couples as you passed by them. They didn’t seem to care, too wrapped up in their own pleasure to notice you.

Taehyung and Seokjin led you straight to the bar, where they called for the attention of one of the bartenders, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else. 

“What can I get for you?” He asked, shouting a bit over the loud music. 

“It’s his 21st! Got anything you’d recommend?” Taehyung raised his eyebrows, obviously hoping that maybe it would lower the price on the drinks you’ll order. 

Shifting his attention to you, the bartender asked, “What do you like?”

“Uhh, something easy?” You shrugged, having no idea what to do or say. You were way out of your element. 

The bartender blinked at you for a moment. “I’ll make you a Long Island Iced Tea.” 

You leaned over to Seokjin beside you. “Is that a good one?” 

He didn’t really give you a response, as his eyes were locked on the crowd. Following his gaze, you saw he’d made eye contact with a girl on the dance floor, and was slowly inching in that direction. Rolling your eyes, you turned to face Taehyung again, but he wasn’t there anymore. Glancing around, you found him grinding on the ass of a guy. 

You whipped your head back in front of you, just in time for the bartender to give you your drink. Before you could take it, he asked for your card to pay for the drink. With both Seokjin and Taehyung occupied, it gave you no other choice than to pull out your debit card and hand it over to him with a sigh. So much for it being their treat.

You don’t move from your place at the bar, sipping your drink as you observe the people around you indulge themselves. After a while, you slowly got used to your surroundings. The boom of the music didn’t shake you to your core, and the drink you’d ordered wasn’t all that bad. However, you began to feel the familiar sticky heat surround you accompanied by the sensation of someone watching you. 

Turning away from your drink you stared into the sea of people. With the low lighting and the constant movement, it was difficult to make out anything in particular but something compelled you to continue to stare into the crowd. It was hard to see in the dark, but eventually you spotted who was staring at you and it was a pair of eyes you never thought you’d see wide awake. Leaning against the wall, was a young man, not much older than you, dressed head to toe in red. His long dark hair was slicked back, fully exposing his eyes to you. The same dark eyes you see every night when you go to bed. The air was sucked from your lungs as you gawked at him, unsure of what to do. When you had met his gaze, he didn’t turn around or play coy, only continued to watch you with heavy lidded eyes. With a smirk playing on his lips, he winked at you before vanishing behind a group of people. 

You couldn’t believe what you just saw. The eyes from your dream staring right at you, ready to devour you at any given moment. It had to be the alcohol, no. You were drunk and seeing things. Can you see things when you’re drunk? Or was that a drugged thing? Either way, you couldn’t have seen those eyes. They weren’t real, they were some sort of strange figment of your imagination. 

A tap on your shoulder jerked you out of your spiral. Turning, an extremely beautiful man stood before you; his faded pink hair perfectly tousled, and a smirk pulling on his plump lips. 

“Hey cutie,” his voice was low as he placed his hand on your knee. You froze. Never once in your life has a man ever flirted with you. You were unsure how fast your heart was beating or if it was even still beating at all. “How’re you doing tonight?”

“I- uh, good.” You stuttered out. Was the music getting louder? “H-how are you?”

“Oh what a gentleman,” he purred as his hand crawled up your thigh, his touch was burning. Almost like it was searing into your skin.  “I’m doing good. Thank you. . . What are you doing here tonight, hmm?”

“It’s-It’s my birthday.”

“Oooh,” that seemed to intrigue him even more. “Then, why don’t you let me say happy birthday?” His hand was now dangerously close to your dick, already growing harder against your slacks. 

If your face wasn’t already red, it certainly was now, your cheeks burning as the beautiful man’s gaze flickered down. The voice in your head grew louder, telling you to give in. To let it happen, to indulge yourself in a little sin. You opened your mouth, but before the words were able to come out, you slapped your hand over your mouth. 

The action startled the man in front of you, giving you a puzzling look. “Hey if you don’t want to-”

You don’t let him finish. You scrambled off your seat and made your way towards the exit, not caring that your roommates were still in the building. You needed to get as far away from the club as possible. 

It took a couple hours, but you walked all the way back to campus, not even really caring that you should’ve ordered an Uber. You needed penance, that walk was going to serve at it. You couldn’t believe yourself for what had happened. The small sliver of you that wanted it, that wanted to accept the stranger’s offer. You wanted to throw up, you were so disgusted with yourself. You didn’t deserve an Uber home, you deserved to walk home.

It was nearing 3 am by the time you reached your dorm, you weren’t even sure if Tae and Jin were back yet. You didn’t really care, all you could think about was the aching in your feet and how badly you wanted to sleep. Throwing off your shoes, you flopped into your bunk, not bothering to change out of the nice clothes you were in. 

Alas, even in the world of dreams you couldn’t escape. You dreamt of the beautiful pink haired stranger, his plump lips wrapped around your cock. Mind muddled with lust, you bucked into his mouth, you couldn’t take it anymore. You needed release. You were so close to it too, it was only a matter of seconds. The stranger around your dick met your eyes, and you could feel your gut twist in knots. Overwhelmed, you turned to face the wall, not wanting to see what you knew would happen next. Instead of meeting the wall, you’re face to face with the man and his dark eyes that have been haunting you. A choked moan slipped past your lips, unable to divert your eyes away from his.

“Look at him.” A voice rang in your head. While you did not recognize it, you knew it came from the man. “Look at him while you cum.”

Compelled to follow the order, you glanced down to the pink haired stranger just as the knot in your stomach snapped, shooting your cum into his soft warm mouth. Tears pricked at your eyes as waves of pleasure washed over you. Lewds slurps echoed in the room as he gulped down your release. He pulled himself off you with an obscene pop. 

“Naughty boy.”

You awoke with a start, breathing so hard it felt like you had run 10 miles. The sun shining out your window and the snoring of your roommates had you sighing, it was a dream. It wasn’t real. Moving to sit up, you notice the crotch of your pants are wet. Cringing, you pushed your cover away to reveal a dark circle of wetness in your nice pants. Your eyes welled up as you got up, gathering fresh clothes as quickly as you could, rushing towards the bathroom. 

Dressed in clean clothes, you stared yourself down in the mirror, disgusted with what you’ve become. You used to be so. . . good. Yet ever since that night, that stupid night at that cabin, something has changed you. Because ever since, you felt that heat attached itself to you, you’ve felt dirty and gross. No matter how many times you showered, you’ll never be clean of it.

Unsure what else to do or where to go, you found yourself walking the few blocks to your church. Pulling open the heavy doors, you stepped into the chapel. Usually when you go to church, regardless if there is mass or not, you feel all the tension leave your body. Not this time. It felt like it wound up even tighter. 

You walked past all the pews until you were in front of the altar. Quietly as you could, you tugged the pew kneeler down. Kneeling down, you pressed your hands together, you squeezed your eyes shut, and you prayed. You prayed to God that He’ll forgive you for what you’ve become and for Him to free you of this horrible nightmare that you’ve been living in. You begged Him to deliver you from the sin of your own thoughts. As you prayed, the heat that you’ve grown all too familiar with creeped along your neck, like it was mocking you. Telling you that no matter how much you prayed, or how much you wished to be free, you could never escape it. 

The following weeks, you made every point to avoid sleep and those dreams. You’d stay up hours past the usual time you fall asleep, even up longer than Seokjin and Tae who already stayed up pretty late. You’d stay up reading, completing assignments and studying for tests that weren’t going to happen for a while. The only sleep you’d get was maybe a few hours, but that was only when your body couldn’t stay up any more. Most of the time you’d end up falling asleep at your desk, passing out from complete exhaustion. 

You were absolutely miserable, and it showed as your grades started slipping. By the time Spring Break rolled around, you went from straight As to Cs and Ds. You were glad that parents didn’t get emails or updates on your grades in college because they certainly would have a lot to say.

Getting out of the car, you stared up at your childhood home. You came home for break every semester, but this time around, you truly didn’t want to be here. After the last few weeks, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. But you had no other choice, wanting to appear as if nothing was wrong, you had to see your family.

Shouldering your backpack, you walked up the gravel walkway to the front door. You knocked three times before your mother swung the door open, a bright smile on her face.

“Oh my baby boy is home!” She cooed as she moved to hug you.

“Hi mom.” You sighed as you hugged her back. For a moment, you forgot about everything that happened the past few weeks. You forgot all about the cabin, the dreams, the eyes, the club. Everything. At that moment, you were just a boy hugging his mom. Eventually the moment had to end and she pulled away.

You watched as her face morphed from happy to concerned. “Honey, have you been doing alright? You look tired.”

“Just. . . been having trouble sleeping.” You shrugged.

“Oh, well, go to bed early tonight and sleep in as late as you want. You’re on break now!” She cheered as she fully stepped away from you and into the house. “Come on, we actually have a bit of a surprise for you too.”

Lacing her arm with yours, she all but dragged you into the kitchen where there stood your father and-

“Namjoon?!” 

With the call of his name, he turned to face you, his dimpled grin fully on display. Instantly, you felt warmth spread across your cheeks. Having gone to the same parish as you, Namjoon had been your Youth Group leader when you were in middle school and you thought he was absolutely wonderful; he was always so kind and thoughtful and caring. He was everything you wanted to be in a person. You’d heard plenty of the girls in your group gossip amongst themselves about how hot they thought he was and while you hated it, you agreed. At first you thought you could ignore it; you’d sit next to him and talk to him as often as you could during and after the group meeting. But the closer you felt you got with him, the more you realized the feelings weren’t platonic anymore. Almost overnight, your behavior towards him changed. You’d sit further away from him or in the back, you would only talk to him when absolutely necessary. You thought you were subtle about it, but he had noticed the drastic change; constantly checking up on you and asking if you were doing alright, none of which helped you in your endeavor to stop liking him. Eventually when you aged out of his group, you made a point to not contact him at all. In fact, the last time you think you have even heard of Namjoon was when he got married back in the fall. Your parents had received the invitation, but due to you being away for college, you missed the ceremony. 

“Hey, Y/N! How’ve you been?” He held out his hand for you to shake. As you did so, you felt the familiar heat dragging down your spine. You immediately dropped his hand, as if he was on fire. 

Before he could ask what that was, you answered his question. “Good, good. Just been dealing with school. Nothing much has been happening.”

“Ah, come on, don’t be so modest.” Your father boomed as he put an arm over your shoulders. “He’s the best in his class, aren’t you, son?”

“Y-yeah, definitely.” You squeaked as the lie stumbled over your lips, not even thinking twice about it. The heat continued to steadily inch down your back, creeping along until it reached the waist of your jeans. You squirmed against your father’s hold, you weren’t sure how long you were going to last until it reached. . . other places. 

“It was also his birthday not too long ago, Mr. Twenty-One.” Your dad boasted.

“Oh really well, happy belated birthday.” Namjoon smiled at you, bowing his head a bit. The heat made its way over to your ass and you felt it squeeze you. It took every fiber of you to not make any drastic movement, not wanting to make any more of a scene. 

“Thank you.” You said, giving him a tight smile in return. 

“We were about to sit down for lunch, would you like to join us or would you like to settle in?” Your mom interjected.

Meaning your options were to either suffer through a lunch with the presence touching you and potentially making a fool of yourself, or to hide in your room, leaving you alone with it. That thought alone was enough reason for you to agree to lunch.

Beaming, your mom took your backpack from you saying she’ll put it in your room while you, Namjoon, and your dad went to the backyard where the patio table was all set up. When you sat down, the heat left your body. Which you were thankful for, maybe you could get through the rest of the afternoon without any trouble from it. As you sat quietly, Namjoon and your dad continued their conversation before you came in. It was a few minutes until your mother returned, food in hand. You thanked her as she prepared your plate and handed it to you. You ate in silence, listening to what your parents and Namjoon talked about things that had been happening recently, both in the church and in your family. 

“So Y/N, you have a girlfriend yet?” Your former Youth Group leader asked, taking a sip of his lemonade.

“Oh- No, not yet. Haven’t found anyone.” You answered, giving a tight smile. “I like to focus more on school anyways.”

“Well that’s understandable,” he nodded. “But I do hope you find someone that you like soon.” He smiled.

“Thank you-”

“Oh, did you hear about Yoongi?” Your mother interjected.

“No? What happened, is he okay?” You asked. Min Yoongi was your next door neighbor and childhood best friend, but the two of you grew apart just before highschool started. So to hear his name brought up randomly was cause for a little concern.

“He says he’s bisexual and has a boyfriend!” 

Soon as the words left her mouth, you froze in your seat. You were relieved that nothing bad happened to him, but jealousy and fear washed over your body. After all those years of friendship you had with him, you were suddenly disgusted with him, hating the fact you were such a close friend to someone disrespecting God like that. Yet at the same time, a small part deep inside you felt envious of him. Despite your internal conflict, the news had you looking tentatively to your father who was clenching his jaw. 

“Oh really?” Namjoon spoke first, his tone sounding genuinely curious.

“Mmhmm, his parents were furious and kicked him out. Don’t think we’ll be seeing him again any time soon.” Your mother continued on as she ate her salad.

“Oh, is he going to be alright? Does he need help?” Namjoon furrowed his brows as he set his fork down.

“Don’t think he needs any help considering he chose his path.” Your father said as he whipped his face with a napkin. “Boys shouldn’t mess around with other boys, it’s just not natural. Right, Y/N?”

“Right, dad.” You murmured quietly, the words putting a sour taste in your mouth. You looked down at your plate, picking at it a bit. You wanted the floor to swallow you up. You wanted to scream and cry because you know that if they knew you were like Yoongi, they’d say the same things about you. 

“I wouldn’t exactly say that, Mr. L/N.” Namjoon countered. “Being gay or bisexual isn’t unnatural, as we do see homosexuality among wild animals such as penguins, lions, and primates. These people aren’t choosing to be gay, they just are.”

“God made us the way we are, and He doesn’t make mistakes. Yoongi and all those other homos made their choice.” Your father argued, raising his voice ever so slightly. “What are you gay, Namjoon? You’re defending them so passionately.”

“No I’m not, but my wife is bisexual. Seeing as I’m an ally to her community, it’s only right I speak up on their behalf.” You swore for a moment he glanced in your direction. “But now I feel that I’m not exactly welcome here, so I think it’s time for me to go.”

“You don’t have to do that, Namjoon-” Your mother pleaded as he sat up.

“No, Mrs. L/N, I think I do.”

“I’ll walk you to the door.” You blurted out, catching everyone at the table off guard. Before your father could say a word, you were already out of your seat and walking back inside the house, Namjoon not too far behind you. You don’t turn to face him until you’re both at the front door. “I’m-I’m sorry about that. . .”

“It’s not your fault,” he reassured you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “People fear what they don’t understand.” He gave you a squeeze before dropping his hand. “And uh, if you ever need someone to talk to that’s not your parents or anything, here’s my card.” He pulled a small business card from his pocket, handing it to you. 

“I’m not-” You began to defend yourself but he stopped you. 

“I’m not saying you are, but I’m here for you. As a friend.”

The tips of your ears grew hot as you accepted his card. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he smiled as he stepped out the front door. “Take care, Y/N.”

“You too.” 

You watched as he walked down the pathway towards the sidewalk. You didn’t shut the door until he was out of sight. Once you couldn’t see him anymore, you shut the door. Feeling tears well up in your eyes, you made your way up to your room, not wanting to speak to your parents for the rest of the day.  

You don’t speak much to your family the rest of your time there, both of them being too busy to entertain you anyways. You spend your time watching Netflix, consuming as many nature documentaries as you possibly could. When you do talk with your parents, it’s very superficial things over the dinner table. 

The strange hot presence still lingers around you, although not as badly as it was when you were at the dorms. It felt weaker almost, like there wasn’t enough fuel around for it to continue. Despite its hindrance, the dreams were still prevalent, but not as bad as they were. The only thing in the dreams were dark eyes and the handsome stranger that they belonged to staring at you. You’d wake up in a cold sweat, those eyes never leaving your mind. You should’ve been relieved that the torment you had been experiencing was finally ceasing, it was the moment you had been praying for. But you almost missed it? You didn't understand why, seeing how the heat always made you feel dirty and shameful. Yet the moment you realized it was gone, you wanted it back. 

The presence must’ve somehow read your mind because the last day of Spring Break, it had returned in full force. As you slept, you dreamt of the same man, loitering in the corner of the room observing you. Heat surrounded your body as he stared, taking the form of hands as it spread across your skin. As it groped you, you felt your cock harden in your boxers. A moan slipped out involuntarily. You didn’t know what part of you missed this, writhing in warped pleasure; but you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand it. The invisible hands made their way over to your neglected member, slipping beneath the fabric of your underwear. A firm grip wrapped around your cock, squeezing it. You bit your lip, trying your best to prevent any noises from falling from you. The invisible hand began to pump you at an agonizingly slow pace, driving you mad. But just before you reached that sweet release. Your eyes snapped open, your body still covered in the blazing heat. 

A low whine escaped you as you slowly came to your senses. Unable to bear the sweltering heat, you pulled off your covers, exposing your sweat-soaked skin to the cool air of your bedroom. You could still feel the aching hard on in your boxers. You were so close to coming in your dream, and you probably still were even now. It probably wouldn’t even take much if you were to-

No. You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t touch yourself. It was wrong, but you could feel your cock practically begging for it to be touched. Your eyes began to burn with tears as you came to your decision. You squeezed your eyes shut as your trembling hand traveled over your boxers. You give yourself an experimental squeeze, eliciting a gasp from you. You then slid your hand underneath.

Your tip was already leaking pre-cum and you hissed as you smeared it with your thumb. You pumped your cock at a cautious pace. Letting out a cry as you struggled to make yourself feel as good as you did in the dream.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You whined out.

“You did nothing.” A deep voice has you sitting up in bed, your hand still loosely wrapped around your cock. The voice is familiar, you’ve heard it before. You know you have. The voice came from the corner of your room, it’s dark for a moment before a figure stepped out from it.  Your breath caught as The man with the dark eyes that’s been haunting you for so long revealed himself. He was dressed in the same outfit from the club all those weeks ago; his animal print shirt more apparent in the low lighting of your bedroom.  You opened your mouth to ask who he was, but words failed to come out. You had to still be dreaming. You had to be stuck in some sort of dream hellscape now as your punishment for missing the torture. “I promise you, you’ve done absolutely nothing.” You watched as his lustful dark eyes drank in your desperate form, a proud smirk on his face.

“Then why is this happening to me?” Your voice returned to you as you pulled your hand from your boxers. “I can’t do this anymore, I want it to stop. Please make it stop.” You pleaded with the stranger as he walked over to your bed. If this was a dream, you might as well let it happen. 

“You want me to make it stop?” He asked, his hand finding your ankle, tracing up your leg. “How badly?”

“So bad. Please please please, I’ll do anything- give anything for it to stop, please!” You begged him. 

“Anything?” His hand traveled further up your leg, reaching your thigh.

“Yes, anything!” You cried.

“Give yourself to me and I’ll make it stop. Once I’m done with you, you won’t feel bad anymore. I promise.” He was dangerously close to your dick, his hand barely grazing over the soiled fabric. Tentatively, you nodded. The stranger’s face grew into a wicked grin as he leaned in close. “That’s all I need.”

Surging forward, his lips met yours, kissing you at a brutal, almost bruising pace. Distracting you with his mouth; his hand pressed against your cock, eliciting a whine from you that he swallowed as he kissed you. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you to chase after them. He cooed at your attempt, but shushed you. 

“I’m in charge here,” he whispered, nibbling a bit at your ear. He kissed down the column of your neck and chest, leaving behind a trail of red and purple marks. Marks that would be gone by the time you awoke from the dream. As he sucked on your neck, his hand slipped past the band of your boxers. “You’re so hard, aren’t you little boy?”

You nodded fervently. “Please.”

“Please what? Are you gonna use your words like a big boy?” He teased as his hand began pumping your cock at a much faster rate than you were, driving you to the edge almost instantly. 

“Fuck me! Please fuck me! I need it, make it stop, please!” You babbled, desperate for him to fulfill his promise and take it away; take away the heat, the pain, the want. Just take it all. You couldn’t stand it anymore. 

With his free hand, the stranger pushed you to lay back down on the bed. Now hovering over you, he kissed you again, licking at the seam of your lips for you to open up. To which you did, and you welcome the intrusion. His tongue tangled with yours as he played with you, drinking in your weak mewls.

You felt like the world was spinning all around you, unable to tell what was up from down or left from right. Your body heat rose little by little as the stranger pleasured you. You could feel your gut tighten, getting closer to orgasm. 

“I’m-I’m gonna-” You sputtered.

Just as you were about to reach your climax, he ripped his hand away, denying you your orgasm.

“No, no! You said you were gonna make it stop!”

“Not like that.” He leered as he pulled away from you. You weren’t given full time to mourn his presence or your orgasm, because he tugged down your boxers, your erection slapping against your stomach. Immediately you felt your face heat up as his eyes darkened. Your hands went to cover yourself, but his hands grabbed your wrists. “No.” He ordered. Meekly, you nodded as you dropped to your sides. 

He stepped away from your bed, you’re about to protest but the words died in your throat as he began to pull off his clothing. You watched in awe as he plucked the buttons of his shirt, revealing golden tan skin. With the shirt on, you didn’t quite gage how muscular he was, but it was evident by now that the man your mind had dreamt up was very well built. When he reached his belt buckle, your averted your eyes, evoking a laugh from him.

“You were fine watching me two seconds ago, don’t you wanna see the full thing, little boy?” He taunted you, the rustling of clothing evident in the background as he shucked off his remaining layers. “Take a look. No shame in that.”

Hesitantly, you turned your head, just in time to see him in his full glory. His cock stood hard and tall. You could feel your face growing hotter as you covered your eyes. He had the most delicious dick you’ve ever seen, granted it was the only one you’ve seen besides your own, but it was beautiful nonetheless. A string of perverted thoughts ran through your mind as you felt him rejoin you on the bed, but he didn't remove your hands. No, instead his hands rested at the back of your knees, pushing them up, showing off your tight little hole for him. 

The stranger held two fingers in front of your face. “Open.” You opened your mouth, and you’re barely given a second to process what he wanted before he pushed his fingers past your lips. “Get my fingers nice and wet. Need to prep you to make sure you can take me.” You were taken back at the order, but you complied, closing your lips around them. You dragged your tongue all over the digits in your mouth before they’re removed. 

You watched as his hand disappeared from your vision. “Eyes on me.” His other hand on your jaw, forcing you to lock eyes with him. You feel the cool, wet appendage against the ring of muscles. Flinching, you tried to wiggle away from him, but his grip on you tightened. You mewled at the feeling, a mix of discomfort and pleasure. “Stay still and look at me!” You stilled as he pushed his finger into you up to  his knuckle. “Shit, you’re so tight. How are you gonna take my cock? Hmm?” He mused to himself as his fingers started to slide in and out of you. You fisted at your sheets, needing something to ground you from the pleasure that was building in you. He was able to stretch you open enough to take two, then three fingers before he declared you ready. 

Once his fingers are out of you, you feel a moment of emptiness before you feel his tip against your hole, already pushing in. Glancing up at him, you watched as a glob of spit fell from his lips, directly onto the head of his dick as he sank into you. A shiver ran down your spine as the spit came in contact with your sensitive hole. He was a good inch or two in before he slammed his hips down into you. 

A strangled moan at the sudden fullness. The dreams you had have never felt this good, this real. You were going to hate yourself in the morning, but you didn't care. You couldn’t care anymore. The stranger promised to make it stop, you weren’t sure how he was going to as a figment of your imagination, but maybe it was a way of convincing yourself to get it over with.

At the sound of your moan, he slapped a hand over your mouth. “As much as I’d love to hear those sweet noises of yours. . . I don’t think we want your parents to wake up and see their good little boy taking cock, now do we?”

His words don’t quite register as he started thrusting into you at a harsh pace. Any other sounds you make are muffled by his hand, making the only sounds in the room the lewd slap of skin against skin. You could feel every ridge of his cock as he pushed in and out of you, driving you delirious. You squeezed your eyes shut, but a harsh slap against your thigh forces you to open them. 

“Hey, I didn’t say you could close your eyes.” He growled. “I want you to look at me while I fuck you open, like the dirty whore you are. Keep them open, or I’ll make sure your parents hear.” His eyes flashed red as he spoke, his threat sounding very real. Your breath hitched as with another pound of his hips, reality came crashing down. 

You weren’t dreaming. The man on top of you- the man inside you was real. The stranger was very real and you were actually having sex with him! Your eyes widened, unable to look away from the filthy sin you were committing, and with a stranger no doubt! Tears burned in your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. Before you knew it, your lips were moving against his hand  in silent prayers for forgiveness. 

 When the stranger felt your lips moving against his palm, he removed his hand. His face curving into a wicked smile. He must’ve gotten some sick kick out of it as he picked up his pace, thrusting into you faster. The tears that welled up in your eyes started to spill, rolling down your cheeks as you sputtered uncontrollably. Your grip on your sheets tightened as you felt the familiar build up of your orgasm coming up. 

Leaning down to whisper in your ear, he asked. “Do you want me to stop?” 

More tears falling down, you responded. “No.” You wanted this. You wanted this so bad, you didn’t want it to stop. At the moment, you didn’t care if God would send you to Hell because you had gay sex. All you felt-all you wanted was to cum. “No, fuck me. Please, I wanna cum.”

The wicked grin spread across his face once again as he pistoned his hips faster and faster into you. His hand goes to your neglected cock that you’d just realized had been leaking more all over your stomach. Your dick in hand, he began pumping it as best he could while keeping pace with his thrusts. Releasing your grip on your sheets, your hands wrapped around his shoulders pulling him close as you feel yourself inching towards the edge. 

“I-I’m- I’m gonna-” You hiccupped as your gut got tighter and tighter. 

“You’re gonna cum? Huh, all over my cock like a filthy slut?” He jeered as he bucked into you. 

“Yes-! Fuck-! I’m-” You sobbed as he pounded into you, his grip on your cock driving you further into delirium. With another slam of his hip, you cum; spurting out over his hand and your stomach. He rode you through your orgasm, mumbling nonsense to himself. You didn’t quite understand what he was saying, only catching a few phrases about how tight you were and something about his home. With each thrust from him, it sent you further into overstimulation.  

“Gonna fill you with my cum- fuck. Such a good whore.” He groaned. With one last snap of his hips, he joined you in ecstasy; painting your insides white with his essence. He managed a few more sloppy thrusts, before collapsing on top of you.

You both laid there for a few moments, your breaths mixing as you panted. You laid there, bodies hot and sticky before the stranger looked at you. His lips met yours for one more lazy kiss, all tongue and teeth before pulling away and out of you. Your body whined at the loss of his touch. 

With him gone though, the fog in your mind began to clear and you realized what you had done. You felt sick and gross and dirty. But it felt so good. It felt good to give in, to not care about what anyone else thought. The conflicted feelings swirled around you, trying to fully understand what or or why, but all you could do was stare blankly at the ceiling. 

Turning your head to voice your spiral, the stranger shushed you. 

“Shhh, rest, Y/N. Shh.” Saying your name for the first time that night. 

Your body heeded his words, growing tired with each passing moment. But your mind started racing with questions rose up as your eyelids felt heavier and heavier. What had happened? How did he know your name? What was his name? How even did he get in here? You wanted to ask them, but your body was slowly starting to fail, not allowing you to stay lucid enough to question him. The last thing you saw was his smirking face above you.

Your eyelids were heavy the following morning, not wanting to wake up and face the day. You expected any moment for your mother to burst into the room, saying she’s making you goodbye pancakes. But she doesn’t. The longer you wait, the more you realize, you don’t even smell pancakes. You don’t even smell the familiar scent of your parent’s laundry detergent. It was darker and musky.

Your eyes snapped open and you didn't recognize the ceiling. You didn’t know where you were. You attempted to sit up but every muscle in your body screamed in pain. You wondered what you could’ve done to have your body hurt so much, but then the last night’s activities flashed through your mind: the stranger, sex, giving into him. A deep pit of guilt began to build as it all hit you like a truck. 

Ignoring the burning pain in your body as you sat up in bed. Red sheets pooled at your waist as you looked around. You were in a room no bigger than your own with not much furniture besides the large bed you were currently in. Feeling someone shift beside you, you glanced down, meeting the eyes of the stranger lying down next to you.

“What? Did you think I’d let you go after just one round?”

[joopiterjoon]

Piece of Peace- MiniMoni

Pairing: Namjoon x Jimin

Genre: +18, Strangers/enemies-kind-of to lovers?

Warnings/Tags: Kittygang!Jimin, Professor!Namjoon, swearing, mentions of gangs and gang violence, stealing motorcycles, anal sex, sex on a motorcycle, exhibitionism (of course), FYI I don’t know much (anything) about motorcycles

Wordcount: 1k

a/n: this is technically part 3 of Boys Meets Evil and Burning Up, but you can read it by itself! Also this was FOREVER ago but thank you @honeymoonjin​ and @ddaenggtan​ for reviewing this and telling me if it’s kitty gang worthy!

Part of ficswithluv’s #FWLBingo!

Everything about the Harley dealership is new. The pristine floors, the smell, the design. Even the echoes of engines, obviously a repeated sound bouncing around the fancy space, sound unique each time. Everything the place contains within is shiny and desirable.

It’s exactly where Namjoon wants to be. Surrounded by newness, he’ll craft a new him. One that isn’t clumsy, isn’t known for being nerdy.

One that befits his new boyfriend, Jimin Park.

But with a shake of his glasses, Namjoon thinks he may need a new bank account.

“What do you think?” the ever eager salesman asks. Namjoon stands, straightening his secondhand, jean jacket as he eyes the (probably new) suit of the man.

“Ah, it’s… it’s nice,” Namjoon smiles shyly. He’s not sure what words he should be using. He googled motorcycle terminology, but all that escapes him now.

“Would you like to take it for a spin?” the salesman presses with a little shake of his hips. His balanced persona of friendly and pushy is a bit terrifying. Namjoon laughs nervously. He doesn’t know if he should get on something he can’t afford, it might just hurt more when he has to say no.

A hand slides around his waist under his jacket. Naturally, Namjoon eases into the touch despite the public display. He jostles into his boyfriend’s side. “What do you think, babe? Gonna hop on?”

“Ah,” Namjoon clears his throat. He looks down at Jimin whose head rests on his shoulder. He immediately regrets it. Behind the shades, Namjoon can see the lazy look in his eye. Namjoon tries to distract himself by looking lower, only to see Jimin’s tongue wet his plush lips, only to then glance even lower and see how far Jimin’s thin, white shirt is dipping down his chest. Jimin’s undeterred by the price tags that surround him. Hell, Jimin looks more expensive than the thousands of dollars of metal littered around the stage room.

Namjoon decides to focus on the salesman instead. “It’s a bit out of my price range.”

Jimin’s tinkling laugh sends a chill up Namjoon’s spine. He bites down his smile. He still can’t believe he can make such a man laugh. That from the shadows he managed to capture the attention of a man who constantly danced in the spotlight.

Jimin always laughed when Namjoon marveled at him. He apparently felt the same way. As a reckless boy from the streets, he doesn’t understand how someone with a masters would be captivated by him.

They fit each other, filled in the cracks of where they were lacking, the yin to yang, in more ways than one.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Jimin tells the salesclerk, pinching Namjoon’s cheek.

“Yes, Mr. Park,” the salesclerk chimes, tucking his hands behind his back with a small bow.

Namjoon’s jaw drops. He shoots Jimin a questioning gaze, but Jimin just shrugs.

“Are you serious?” He hisses, straightening his glasses. “What did you do?”

“What?” Jimin asks, lowering his glasses so Namjoon can see the faux-innocence in his eyes. It’s one of those looks that reminds him when to keep his mouth closed. “I’m just cashing in a favor… literally.”

Jimin gives his side a squeeze before walking over to the bike, his boots clacking on the floor. The salesman’s shoulders tense a bit as Jimin runs a finger along the back of the bike.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Park.”

That. That’s why Namjoon wants a bike. Wants anything, anything that can put him on par with his boyfriend. No matter what Jimin says, Namjoon is still just a bookworm when it boils down to it. He knows Jimin’s much softer than he appears, too, but he wants that. Jimin’s ease, his natural ability to control a room and all that’s in it.

“I want to see what you look like on top,” Jimin winks. He leans over the back, head cocked, lightly shifting his hips towards the bike.

Namjoon’s brain short circuits at the insinuation. Unable to resist, he draws closer to the bike. His nervous hands tentatively stroke the handle, feeling the ridges of the rubber under his fingers.

“Please,” Namjoon folds his lips in, terrified he’d said that out loud. But he realizes it was the salesman, bowed with the key extended.

Jimin could make anyone beg.

When Namjoon takes the key, the salesman starts to wheel the bike towards the entrance. Jimin winds his arm back around Namjoon’s waist as they walk, rubbing circles into his back.

“You’re gonna look so hot, babe,” Jimin muses. He still watches Namjoon. Only him, nothing else in the store. None of the pretty toys, the other men, the passing cars. Whenever he’s with Namjoon, Jimin’s eyes are always on him. Namjoon shrinks under the attention, but he loves it.

Outside, Namjoon straddles the bike. He gives it a once over, trying to remember everything Jimin taught him. It’s different than his bike, but he can figure it out.

“Hot damn,” Jimin sighs. “You look like an 80’s heartthrob.”

Namjoon giggles. He appreciates that Jimin noticed he dressed for the part.Taking his glasses off and safely tucking them into his pocket, he pats it twice to make sure they won’t shake out.

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, tripping over to the bike. “Don’t. That was so cute.”

He comes round to the front of the bike. He puts his hands over Namjoon’s, straddling the front tire. Namjoon tries to sit straight under his boyfriend’s wandering gaze.

Jimin licks his lips again, fingers tightening over Joon’s as his other hand runs through his hot pink hair. His rings hurt a bit, but Namjoon would never tell Jimin to let go.

“This is a wet dream. I’m living a wet dream right now.”

Namjoon chokes. He should be saying the same thing. Jimin is about to buy him a motorcycle. Jimin is straddling said motorcycle, tight pants and loose shirt leaving little his imagination. Jimin is… Jimin.

“Wanna ride me?” Namjoon asks.

Jimin’s eyes darken, his lips parting a bit.

“W-WITH” Namjoon stutters. “Ride with? I meant do you want to-”

Jimin’s lips silence him. Soft, molding to his own. He brushes the stray strands of hair out of Namjoon’s face. He pulls back only to put the helmet on Namjoon’s head. Namjoon watches while Jimin pouts a bit, trying to find the strap under his chin.

Namjoon may be getting hard. Jimin pats the side of the helmet and all the thoughts in Namjoon’s head jumble.

“Let’s do both,” Jimin smiles. A large, boyish grin that lets Namjoon know he’s a goner.

“Wha-really?” Namjoon asks, trying to spin around as Jimin slings himself over the back of the bike. Namjoon yelps when Jimin’s hands accidentally dip a bit too low, grabbing at his crotch before drifting up to his waist.

“I’ll tell you where to go,” Jimin shouts. “Throttle it, baby.”

Namjoon nods, looking at the controls before him. He goes through the motions, missing how Jimin’s hands usually guide him. His favorite part about being with Jimin is he’s never in charge. Jimin watches over him, tells him what to do, what not to do, that he’s doing great. It’s such a contrast to Namjoon’s daily life where he’s constantly critiquing others and making decisions for his department. He craves Jimin even more after a long day.

And boy was today a long day. And he definitely, really craves Jimin when he nuzzles the plastic helmet into his back, all muscle pressed flush against him.

Namjoon never thought he’d like motorcycles. Until he met Jimin, he thought they were just accidents waiting to happen. But now, he sees the joy. Of course, it’s still incredibly dangerous, which is why Jimin directs him to the back roads. But the wind whipping by him feels like he’s flying. The loud roar of the motor cancels out all other thoughts. The metal horse beneath him answers to each of his movements.

And of course, he knows he looks fucking cool. Jimin’s friend Jungkook showed him photos of their nights together. Jimin was right, Namjoon looks hot on a bike.

Eventually, Namjoon figures out where they’re going. His heart rate picks up. There’s something different about driving Jimin to their spot, instead of him clinging to Jimin’s back as he guides them to the secluded spot.

He rounds the last corner up the hill, pausing before the road turns to dirt.

Jimin’s helmet knocks into his. Namjoon laughs. Jimin tried to tuck his chin over his shoulder as always, but the bulky helmets block him.

“Keep going!” Jimin shouts.

Namjoon rubs the handles nervously. “The bike will get dirty.”

He imagines Jimin’s eye roll, that accompanies his sassy, “Always such a good boy. Drive.”

Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice. By now, he understands Jimin’s commands will always be obeyed, by will or force.

And he’s long from cursing how that makes his stomach stir with excitement.

The bike is harder to control offroad. Namjoon focuses hard. Each bump and shuffle reminds him how skilled Jimin and his friends are when they whip through the city streets, over curbs, and across sidewalks.

Jimin’s helmet is off before Namjoon’s brought the bike to a standstill at the top of the hill. The city lights are flickering on below them, but up here there’s nothing but trees. It reminds Namjoon of them. How Jimin sparkles and shines below, and Namjoon watches on from up here as a simple tree in a vast forest. It’s only a certain amount of time before Jimin consumes him, just like the city will someday reach this secluded space.

Jimin surprised him by not appreciating the implication that he would destroy the environment in some way. He’d wrestled Namjoon to the ground that day, demanding he creates a cuter metaphor before he declared it “their spot.”

But today, Jimin just jumps off the bike and jumps forward to twirl about a few times as he takes in the fresh air.

Namjoon stares on once his helmet’s off. The setting sun paints the sky a soft pink, the same as Jimin’s hair. His boyfriend looks so free out here, leather jacket filled with the breeze and his smile overtaking all his features. 

Namjoon swings his leg over the bike and leans against it for support. He feels a bit like jelly, hands and legs still vibrating from the ride. Jimin continues to prance around, shouting and giggling and jumping. He is free, Namjoon reminds himself. And not even Namjoon can tame him. Everything about him oozes courage and unbridled happiness. Namjoon wants to be like that. He wants to set his own standard for happiness, just like he chooses to forge head off road.

“Joonie,” Jimin sings, running full-force at Namjoon. Namjoon braces against the attack, but Jimin just skids to a stop in front of him. He smiles up at him, a giggle shaking his shoulders.

“Mini,” Namjoon murmurs low. Jimin somehow smiles wider. Namjoon loves it. They don’t get it. The world. The way confessions and blockades all fade away for Jimin. For anyone with Jimin.

As though Jimin knows he’s considering fading, he grips the edges of Namjoon’s jean jacket and yanks him forward. Namjoon gasps, hands bracing on Jimin’s chest. He closes in, simultaneously trying to take in as much of Namjoon as he can. He noses at Namjoon’s jawline. He waits for a shudder to rock through Namjoon before he nips at his ear, giggling in response to Namjoon’s whine.

“So…” Jimin trails off. He pulls back so Namjoon can see the devilish mischief in his eyes.

“Yeah?” Namjoon breathes. He leans forward, focused on Jimin’s smirking lips, but Jimin tucks his chin. Namjoon whines in protest, which only makes Jimin throw his head back in laughter.

“I rode here with you,” Jimin teases. He presses a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s cheek.

“Did I do good?” Namjoon asks.

“Yes,” Jimin laughs again. Namjoon runs his palms over Jimin’s shoulders, under the jacket. To his surprise, Jimin drops his grip on the jacket, shrugging his own off his shoulders. Instead, he shoves his hips into Namjoon’s, the bike shaking a bit as Namjoon falls back into it. He reaches out to support himself in case the thing falls. Jimin’s hands fall over his own, caging him into the bike. He could care less if the bike falls over.

“What was your other question earlier?” Jimin teases. His eyes have that same lazy look like in the dealership. Namjoon’s cheeks warm.

“Did I do good?” Namjoon repeats. He gulps when Jimin leans a little closer, lips hovering before his own. He looks like an angel, soft features and pink hair framed by the twilight.

“To ride you,” Jimin corrects with a roll of his hips. He finally closes the space, only to kiss at the sensitive spot below his ear.

Okay, well, Namjoon did say looks like an angel. He’s well aware he’s far from it.

“Ah, that would be,” Namjoon clears his throat, sinking on to the seat to help his shaking legs. He reaches to adjust his glasses but forgets he isn’t wearing them. No mind, Jimin grabs his hand, kissing over his palm and wrist, watching him with syrupy sweet eyes. “That would be cool.”

“Cool,” Jimin giggles into his palm. He scrapes his teeth over his wrist. Namjoon whimpers. “You’re so cool these days, Joonie.”

“Stop teasing,” Namjoon whines.

Jimin’s eyes darken. He grabs Namjoon’s wrist and twists. With a yelp, Namjoon’s body involuntarily twists to avoid the impending pain. Jimin grabs his waist to have him turned flush against his hips as he kicks at Namjoon’s foot to have him straddled lower. His hand wanders to the button of Namjoon’s pants, easily undoing them. His tongue travels, slow, up the length of Namjoon’s neck.

“Okay,” Jimin murmurs into the shell of Namjoon’s ear. Namjoon tries to lace his fingers with Jimin’s over his zipper, but Jimin grabs his wrist. He guides Namjoon’s hands to rest on the handlebar and the back seat. “10 and 2, babe. I know how you like your rules.”

Namjoon nods. The bike is sturdy beneath his hands, unlike his mind that whirls in a hazy fog of Jimin. When he looks up, he’s reminded that they’re in the open, in their spot, the city down below just as capable of looking up.

Jimin’s undeterred, of course. After fixing the zipper, Jimin slips both his hands into Namjoon’s jeans, letting the push help Namjoon’s pants down his thighs as he smooths over the skin, rounding out to squeeze Namjoon’s ass.

“God, Joonie,” Jimin groans. “Fuck, there’s so much of you. Love it.”

Namjoon hums in response, eyes falling closed as Jimin’s hands wander over his skin. He can’t be nervous with Jimin here. Jimin’s invincible. He doesn’t care. And when Namjoon’s with him, he starts to feel the same, too.

“Should I-” Namjoon starts to take the jacket off, but Jimin wraps himself around him.

“Fuck no,” Jimin answers. When he’s sure Namjoon won’t move again, he gets back to work, kneading Namjoon’s ass cheeks, thumbs sneaking closer and closer. As his pinkies sweep lower, Namjoon jumps, then almost falls over the front of the bike. Jimin’s arm wraps around his waist to keep Namjoon from falling headfirst over the other side.

“This isn’t gonna work,” Jimin tuts.

Namjoon’s heart drops. 

“What? No, please, please don’t, please fuck me, ride me, please,” he babbles. He turns quickly, a little panicked. He can’t bear when Jimin starts and leaves him hanging.

But when his gaze finally meets Jimin’s the man looks amused. He’s trying to bite back his smile. “Joonie, I meant the position.”

Namjoon’s blush deepens. Here he is, bent over (maybe?) his new bike begging his boyfriend to fuck him.

“Get on the bike backwards,” Jimin orders with a flip of his hand. He walks to the back of the bike, then straddles it til he’s in the seat like he’s about to go for a ride. He pats the rounded metal between the handlebars.“Come be my motorcycle, babe.”

Shit, how many times had Namjoon wished he was underneath Jimin, dreamed about being fucked on his bike? He almost trips trying to get out of his pants. Jimin offers his hand like a gentleman, helping Namjoon sit in front of him.

It’s not until he’s there, hands braced behind him on the extended handles, that he realizes how exposed he is. His pants are on the ground, his legs are tucked by his ass, hard cock dripping and on display.

And he can tell Jimin loves it. He runs his hands over Namjoon’s inner thighs before he takes his cock, stroking slowly. Namjoon shyly stares at Jimin’s own crotch, still clothed.

“Think you can handle this?” Jimin asks, reaching into his jacket pocket. Namjoon’s not even surprised when he pulls out a bottle of lube.

“Of course,” Namjoon mumbles.

“I mean the position, babe,” Jimin titters. Namjoon leans back onto his hands a bit more. He’s strong, despite his soft exterior. He nods.

“Good boy,” Jimin hums. He takes one of Namjoon’s feet, gently guiding it off the bike and into the air. Namjoon bites his lip, the cold breeze heightening his vulnerability.

Jimin kisses at Namjoon’s shin, undoing his own pants. Namjoon zeros in on the senses. Wet lips and gentle fingers, the sound of his zipper and the shuffle of fabric as he pulls out his cock, the scent of poplar and oak.

“You good?” Jimin asks. His voice is close. Namjoon didn’t realize he’s closed his eyes. Jimin’s eyes bore into his own, concern filtering through his pupils. Namjoon melts. It’s a look he’s only ever seen for him, and no one else.

He nods. “Please.”

Begging. He always gets here. Always more desperate for it. Always begging for Jimin’s cock. And Jimin always sits there like he does now, lathering lube over his cock, teasing fingers doing the same to Joon’s rim. No rush.

“I’m going to take your other leg now,” Jimin says. Namjoon opens his eyes again. Jimin has both his legs in either hand. He’s dressed beside his fat cock protruding from his leather pants. He’s a sinful mess, coming closer and stretching Joon’s legs higher until the head of his cock meets his rim. 

“You ready?” Jimin asks.

“Mini,” Namjoon groans. Such a fucking tease.

It stings. The push, Jimin entering him slowly without any stretching. Namjoon loves it. Loves how his body accepts Jimin so easily, how Jimin could just take him, take and take like he does in the streets, but always treats Namjoon with such tenderness. At least, in the beginning.

As he bottoms out, the stretch in his thighs has Namjoon’s eyes stinging. Jimin’s head tucks into his collarbone, trying to hide his haggard breathing.

“Fuck, it’s so hot how you just fucking take it,” Jimin rasps, rolling his hips. Namjoon can’t talk, just digs his fingers into the rubber handles. “Fucking ruin me.”

Namjoon sighs. He loves the power. Jimin takes care of him constantly, but in these moments, Namjoon relishes the power he has over him. Jimin starts to pump and pick up pace and has Namjoon whimpering as the bike shifts beneath him. Once they start, Namjoon’s in control. He has the power to ruin Jimin. Every moan has Jimin answering back, each squeeze of his muscles makes Jimin’s hips stutter. When Namjoon begs for his mouth, Jimin’s kisses are sloppy and needy.

“God, love your skin,” Jimin croons, sucking at Namjoon’s neck. He tosses Namjoon’s legs onto his shoulders so his hands can wander over his tan skin, taking fistfuls of his ass and tweaking his nipples. Namjoon’s hard cock bounces between their bodies. Jimin takes notice, giving his hands a better task. His lube soaked fingers tug at Namjoon’s length, fisting him in time with his thrusts.

“Mini,” Namjoon whimpers, no other words coming to mind. Nothing’s in his mind besides his boyfriend completely consuming him. The metal of the bike bites into his ass as Jimin sinks his teeth into his neck. His arms stretch from the angle on the bike while his thighs flex on Jimin’s shoulders. It’s so much, so good, accompanied by the breeze and the setting sun, and Namjoon can’t handle it. The beauty of it, the perfectness, the contrast.

When Jimin finds his mouth again, soft lips and wet tongue meeting Namjoon’s, he cums. Jimin’s hips stutter, hand momentarily pausing before he makes sure he works Namjoon through it. He takes care of him every time, before he breaks free, breathing heavy before he leans back and pumps hard. His eyebrows furrow, mouth forming a perfect oh as the softest grunts catch in his throat. His nails dig into Namjoon’s thighs, but the pain means nothing as Namjoon watches Jimin’s euphoria chisel into his features.

As he comes down, he collapses forward onto Namjoon. Namjoon’s legs drop to the seat behind him. It’s uncomfortable, the headlight of the bike digging between his shoulders, but he won’t move. Jimin’s tousle of pink hair fans over his chest as his boyfriend catches his breath. Namjoon takes his chance to finally touch Jimin. He runs his hands through the damp hair, over his shoulders, under his chin.

“That was such a quad workout,” Jimin chuckles.

Namjoon chuckles back, both of them rumbling with it.

Jimin perks up, tucking his chin on Namjoon’s chest. “I didn’t know you were an exhibitionist.”

Namjoon strokes his cheek, a blushing pink. Namjoon still can’t believe he’s his. “I’d be anything for you.”

Jimin’s smile falters for a second. The sly look in his eyes flickers with something warmer, something vulnerable.

But then as always, he’s giggling. He shakes his head, sitting up to get off the bike so Joon can sit up, too. “You’re such a romantic.”

Namjoon wants to press it. Press the fact that Jimin slips up sometimes. Namjoon can see it. His calm and cool exterior breaks every now and then around Namjoon. But he doesn’t. He takes his glasses out of his pockets and puts them on. He picks up his pants and pulls them back up, yelping when Jimin gives him one last swat to the ass.

“Why the glasses?” Jimin teases booping Namjoon’s nose.

“There’s no way I’m driving back after that,” Namjoon mumbles, scuffing the dirt.

Jimin laughs, falling into Namjoon’s arms. “Okay, okay.”

To Namjoon’s horror (but no longer surprised), Jimin heads straight home, not even passing the dealership. What Jimin wants, Jimin takes. And Namjoon’s so glad Jimin chose to take him.

Imma craft this into a nice big oneshot soon, so look forward to it!

[bittersweetsongbirdsworld]

Don't Mess With The Dove- Yoonmin Social Media AU

Taehyung and Jeongguk's cackling seemed to grab Sikashi's attention, his blank mask looking deep into the boy's souls as he continued to stare them down. Jimin kept his eye on the leader, the man growing more irritated with the two youngest. As the two continued to chuck quietly to one another, Taehyung laughed out something in Korean and Jimin know this would push the leader over the edge. One, he was already pissed off because Jimin's gang ran into them and basically harassed them, but this really did the trick.

What was the thing Taehyung said? Well-

"He looks like a dramatic anime character."

Before Jimin could even move his arm out to stop the other leader from moving, he was right behind Taehyung. Jimin hardly squeaked out for Taehyung to move when the arm of the leader connected with Taehyung's head, the boy practically tossed to the side as if he was a rag doll. The loud crack that followed after the smack has Jimin's heart in his throat. It sounded like Sikashi had snapped Taehyung's neck in half, but he didn't; thank God.

Jimin and his gang were speechless, well, besides Jeongguk. He had already cranked his arm back and even swung at the guy, but Sikashi was already behind Jeongguk, the leader's leg coming into contact with Jeongguk's gut. The young man's loud gasp was soon muffled by his intense gagging, Jeongguk clenching his stomach as he withered in pain on the ground, Sikashi standing over both boys.

Just as he was about to grab both of the boys and finish them off, a small, but loud voice called from behind Jimin, grabbing both him and Sikashi's attention. There stood a little boy, his dark blue eyes locked on Sikashi as he rubbed his tired eyes, a quiet yawn falling from the boy's lips. Before anyone could even get a word out, the boy started walking over to Sikashi, the small child looking hardly unfazed by the violence the man had brought upon Jimin's group. Jimin, he himself was about to reach out and grab the boy's arm, but when Sikashi signed something with his hands, Jin's hand came up to stop Jimin in his tracks.

All he could do was watch as the little boy opened his arms, Sikashi almost immediately reaching down to scoop the little boy into his arms, the small child nuzzling his face into the leader's chest. The leader was quick to return the gesture, the mute man nuzzling his masked face in the young boys hair as the child relaxed in his arms. He stroked the boy's dark hair, the stands of hair smoothly combing easily though the leader's gloved hands. It was an intimate moment, Jimin had to admit, but he had just beat the shit out of Taehyung and Jeongguk that Taehyung was knocked out cold; Jeongguk coughing up deep maroon into his trembling hands.

It Sikashi wasn't holding the small boy, Jimin was sure he would have pounced on the man before him and return the favor. Instead, he took a deep breath and turned to his group. He could feel the hot tears the pooled at the corner of his eyes, but his voice was strong. He had to be strong for everyone, even if it ment erasing his emotions for now. He stood tall and his voice was stable, no waver detected in his loud voice

"Grab Taehyung and help Jeongguk stand. This isn't our territory and Yoongi is gone. Retreat, don't come into contact with their territory or their members. Remain in the mansion, don't come out." Jimin was shouting out orders left and right, Namjoon grabbing Jeongguk while Jin hoisted Taehyung onto his back. Everyone was quick to round up, Jimin shooting the group a final glance before turning on his heels.

"Head out!" Without another word, the Kitty gang vanished, leaving the DBB behind.

___________________

After the death of the most feared man in Seoul, Min Park Jimin takes the throne as the baddest bitch in Korea. But, life isn't luxurious for Jimin, not even the slightest. With the fact he can bring the one he loved back, he spends all his nights researching and reliving the horrible memories of Min Yoongi. Will he manage to bring Yoongi back, or will he parish before he can even start?

💋 5/?

[kandadiff]

Missing (8) - Jack’s Trick

-

Three trucks with trained men holding weapons headed toward Flatwick. I was squeezed next to Jin and Seungri. Everyone was silent on the way there, just waiting out their leaders instructions. Building C was a seemingly abandoned building probably once used to hold old shipping containers that came in from ships on the nearby dock. No light was on but there was a red hankerchief tied to the door, it was a signal there were bodies inside. I sucked in a breath as we parked and GD got out.

Jin and I were the last to get out, told to stay close to Woojin and Chan in case of anything, Everyone had there guns out and there guard up. GD was the first in the building and whistled when everything was all clear, when I stepped in I noticed there were red marks on the floor leading the way. I cocked an eyebrow and stayed closer to chan, knowing that if anything I could probably take the gun from him.

The smell of mold got worse as we went in deeper into the dirty building and by the time we went down the stairs we heard voices. I couldn't contain the smile that spread across my face and I couldn’t wait to see the look on Jacks. GD kicked open the old door and quickly walked into the room we all followed. “What the fuck is this?” He said as I walked in and my smile faded

“No, no no” I whispered to myself, there was no one in the room, no jack, none of his trained killers- only us.. In the no windowed room, a TV sat playing a video were people were at a party laughing and drinking. “Hyung” Seungri said to his boss “Isn't that your engagement party?” GD’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the screen, it was. He recognized the red suit he had on complimenting the red dress that hugged your body so well. He saw his friends and colleagues drinking and laughing and her turned to me furiously.  

“What the fuck is this? some kind of sick fucking joke to you?”

“I don’t know!” I shouted back to him backing up as he stomped over to me shoving his gun into Jungkook’s hands and bringing out his knife. I turned to try and run by he was quick and fastened a hand quickly around my throat shoving me back toward the wall. TOP rushed to his friend as he squeezed tighter on my throat, just enough to scare me but not to cut out my breath however the blade pressed just under my chin.

“HOW DARE YOU BRING MY MEN OUT HERE TO PLAY SOME FUCKING PRANK ON ME!”

“I didn’t!” I shout back at him, Namjoon rushed over to us as well trying to calm down his boss. “I truly didn’t-“ Everyone was trying to convince him of my innocence but I was just focused on the hand around my neck and he was focused on my face.

“Fucking liar!”

“Hey!” I froze hearing the distictive voice of jack and someone called for GD’s attention. He turned back and I saw Jacks smirking face on the screen. “If you hurt my little kitten to badly I wont tell you where my bunny is.”

“Who the hell is that?!” Gd shouted angrily pulling me forward and but I was frozen in my place.

“Let her go” Jack said looking directly at me and Gd’s gripped his knife hard and turned to me again.

“WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?!”

“Jack Candie” I choked out shaking and GD threw me into Namjoon. 

“The one and only.” Jack smiled. “And you’re Jiyong Kwon right? The man who got engaged to my Bunny? You didn’t ask her fathers permission, that’s not polite.”

“You aren’t her father.” GD said there was still edge in his voice but he put his knife down and took his gun back. “Where is she? You hiding her somewhere in here? Working with her?” He pointed his gun at me then started to order his men to search the building but Jack’s chuckle stopped him.

“I miss my kitten but she is stubborn and feisty and she hasn’t been working with me, at least not yet.”

“I wont” I shot back and he glanced at me then back at GD.

“Don’t bother to send your men around the building. It’s empty, I figured it would take some time for her to crack the code, it was a complicated one, but it gave me enough time to set this up.”

“Where is she?” GD snapped impatiently. “I want to see Arianna, I want proof that shes okay?”

He laughed and I saw a few of the members get physically uncomfortable by his laugh. “You want proof? No, I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

“YOU FUCK! I SWEAR IF YOU HURT HER IN ANY WAY I WILL MAKE YOUR DEATH LONG AND PAINFUL-“

Jack put up his hand to silence the boy “I don’t have proof.” I breath caught in my throat and I buried myself deeper into Namjoon. Carefully placing my hand on the small metal pipe leaning against the wall. “If you want proof your going to have to ask Kitten.” He smile grew as he looked at me and I gripped the pole harder, I felt a few eyes go from me to Jack, GD’s was particularly burning with rage. “That why shes my favorite pet, she knew this whole time where the bunny was and brought all of you here to try and kill me but you didn’t anticipate that my men saw your little quarrel in the van after the club did you kitty-cat. I knew you’d never go after me yourself, youd have to have some poor fools that could help you.” He looked around the room “No offense.”

Gd raced over to me but this time I was prepared, I pushed namjoon hard to the ground and lifted the pipe. Hitting GD hard in the stomach making him double over and Taeyang who came at me when he saw the pipe in my hand. Jungkook swung at me but I grabbed his hand and slammed him into the wall spotting my exit just a few feet away. I wasn’t foolish I knew I could never fight all of them. I was running on two days of no sleep and I was easily outnumbered. I barreled threw both Jimin and Jin and nearly reached the door when a hand tangled itself in my hair and I was thrown onto the ground. An angry TOP grabbed both my wrists in one of his hands throwing the pipe and his foot on my chest applying pressure, I could barely breathe but I heard Jack cheering. GD stood up and leaned closer to my face, he raised his fist to hit me and I closed my eyes in waiting for the painful blow .

“NO.” It was Jack’s voice that rang out loud and powerful over the room GD glanced back at him before laughing.

“and why the fuck not? She betrayed us. That is punishable by death in this gang.”

“If you want my bunny given to you, you won’t kill my kitten.”

“You said you don’t know where she is-“

“No I didn’t I said I don’t have proof but I don’t need it to know where she is. I know where all my pets are.”

“She’s not your pet, none of them are.” Jungkook shot back at him but Jack ignored his outburst.

“You have my kitten and you have my wolf. I like to think I am flexible if anything and I am willing to make a trade, two for the price of one. You give me my pets and I let you have the bunny and ill even give you a few hundred for them. But they cannot be dead or missing any fucking limbs or I’ll kill Arianna in front of you… understand?”

GD looked at his best friend for a moment before standing up and nodding. “It’s a deal.”

“Wait” RM said quickly “(in Korean)_ You heard the stories from Kay, Katya and Adi about how evil this man is and your just going to sell them back to her. They don’t deserve that-“

“(in Korean)_She betrayed us” He said looking down at me “(in Korean)_And Katya can learn her place as well. Taehyung will find another girl.” Namjoon shook his head in disgust.

“It’s a deal?” Jack asked and GD nodded “Splendid. I’ll get the money ready.”

“Wait how do we know where to meet you?” Taeyang asked and Jack chuckled.

“You’re smart boys, Youll find a way.” He looked at me and I just wanted to melt into the ground and cry at the same time. “I missed you kitten, you’ll be home soon okay? So no crying.” He shrugged and the screen faded to black and I was left alone with GD’s glare burning into me.

-

[kandadiff]

Missing (4) - Contact

-

-

The Red Room was a huge, it used to be a mansion owned by some millionaire robber baron in 1920’s and some rich boy bought it and turned it into the biggest and safest club in the city. Safe meaning if your gang started something in the club, everyone else agreed to go against that gang and so far it worked. Rarely their were any fights that were because of specific gangs, the fights were mostly alcohol related or some dudes fighting over a girl or something. The exclusivity of this club made the line go straight down the block, with eager young wannabe gang bangers or fake mobwives wanting to find a gang to latch onto but the bouncer never let those people in and if they saw a ‘newbie’ trying something when a known gang member walked to the front of the line they wouldn’t get in either. Many fights started that way too but never inside the club, the owner was very specific about that and as me and Suga drove his bike to the front of the club I couldn’t stop thinking what if this plan didn’t work? Where would I be able to go? They had me surrounded unless I could sneak out some way but even with Suga helping me that would be hard. I tried to push those thoughts back in my mind as we tired the corner seeing the long line in front of the beautiful red steel doors.

“Looks like word spread fast” Suga smirked coming to a halt in the front and helping me off the bike. I heard people shout and beg for me to come over to them, it was weird how many people idolized criminals like we are the new normal celebrity. I smiled at them and took Suga’s hand in my own not wanting to loose him in the crowd. We made our way up to the bouncer, his muscles bulged from his thin black shirt and he looked down at me with a smile that didn’t match his rough appearance.

“I thought it was just a rumor, the kitty-cat is back in town. Go on in, this is in your honor.” He opened the door and Suga started to walk in but I kept my eyes focused on the man. I was known as a few names around here, Hell-Cat, The Cat, Catwoman, or Black Cat but only one person ever called me Kitty – Cat. This man looked nothing like Jack even with his dark sunglasses and snap back, this man was taller, more muscular and darker skinned.

“Whats your name?” I called out to him being pulled deeper into the loud music and mass of bodies inside the club. I was met with a smirk from the man as the red doors closed.

-

Suga was right when he said the word spread fast, gangs from all over the city were chatting me up a few were new but I did get to chat with some old friends telling them all the same story, “I came here to do what Red Dragon can’t- find Adi, and then after that is when I’m available for hire again.” That pissed GD off to no end every time I said it, he kept yelling in my ear. I met up with Michael who said that a lot has changed since I left but he wanted to have me go over to ‘The Palace’ (the Lost Breed’s HQ) and compare notes with Jay who was comparing notes with “a good friend of yours” he said that with a smirk and I didn’t know what to make of that, I saw a few of The Jokers men but avoided them as well as Louis.

I was now on my own dancing with a virgin pina colada in my hands half listening to the music half listening to GD in my ear. “Are you just going to dance? Or are you going to find what you went there to find?” I sighed walking over to Jimin who was stragtically placed in the club and leaned in closer as though I was talking to him.

“If you stop yelling at me then maybe I could get it done faster, but having me walk over to one of your men every 10 damn minutes to talk to you.” I heard some shuffling and pretended to laugh at something Jimin pretended to say.

“Okay, I got the mic now” CL said coming on the headpiece. “Okay, just do what you have to do.” I waved goodbye to jimin and made my way back to the bar to fill up on my drink.

“I didn’t think it was true,” a voice said behind me “I didn’t think the first place you’d come back to was Newcrest.” The stranger took a place next to me and in the dim lighting of the club I made out a familiar face.

“AH! SHAWN!” I hugged the younger boy as he laughed and hugged me back tightly. I hadn’t seen shawn since I last saw Negan and that whole thing was messy. “How’ve you been?”

“Me? How about you? How was your time away from here?” he asked taking a sip of his drink.

“Needed.” I nodded sighed not wanting to ask the question but doing it anyway. “How is he?”

He put his drink down and motioned for the bartender for another “He’s alright.” I looked away from him and nodded thinking of how I left things with Negan, a hard punch to the head isn’t exactly a good way to say goodbye. “He doesn’t hate you though, If that’s what your thinking.” I looked back up to the smiling Shawn “He says he doesn’t but I think he misses you, shit we all do. He was less…critical without you.” I chuckled, and he looked down at the new drink the bartender placed in front of him. “Are you serious about finding her?”

“I am.”

“You think she ran away or…” He trailed off looking at me and I shrugged.

“I think Adi is a tough girl, no matter what happened. I think – for a while at least she can handle herself. I let GD and his crew do their thing for a while, now its my turn.” He nodded and took a sip of his drink.

“You still remember the sanctuary’s number?” I nodded. “Good, I’m going to help you look. Whatever things you need, you just ask and ill help you.” He got up grabbing his drink “He’ll help you too, no matter what.” He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed reassuringly before walking away. I didn’t have time to think about Negan right now so I pushed that to the back of my mind too and stood back up.

I spotted Jay Park across the club and smiled seeing the A on the back of his neck and wondered if he was looking for you as well, probably but with the Lost Breed they didn’t really have the money to pull off a multi-state-wide search. I wandered around aimlessly, smiling at people who congratulated me for coming back and soon found myself outside pulling out a cigarette and sighing where was this guy or girl? Or anything?

“Kitty-Cat.” It was the boucer from earlier, his voice echoing in my ears as it came from down the alley. I peered down the dark area and waited for him to come out but after a few moments there was no movement.

“I don’t trust you enough to go down there.” I called back to him then looked around “Come over here, no ones around here but us.” It was true, the night was chilly so all the other smokers were in the front of the club instead of the back.

The man came out of the shadows with a smirk on his face and his glasses still on. “Jack trained you and your afraid of the dark?”

“No” I shook my head and walked closer to him and flicked down my cigarette onto the pavement, he watched it go to the ground and stomped on it. “Just rather not get this outfit dirty if I don’t have to.” He gave laugh and nodded.

“I see why he likes you.”

I held in my snort of derision and crossed my arms over my chest “I wanna see him, where is he?”

“You have been away from him for a while if you expect me to tell you.” He said with condensation in his voice.  

“No, you don’t know where he is. He enever would trust a guy like you to know that.” I said and he furrowed his eyebrows “I expect you to give me the note he gave you to give me or rather the note someone gave you for me.”

“What do you mean guy like me?” He asked reaching into his right pocket but I shook my head.

“No, No, No.” I sighed at his panicked face when he realized I had the knife that was there just minutes before. When he looked at the cigarette I took it. I pulled the small lever and the blade came out glinting in the low streetlight “I need the note from the other pocket.” He quickly reached into his other pocket and handed me a small white envelope and swiftly handed it to me. I smiled at him and walked back to the club.

“Wait! I need my knife!”