Yoongi Kitty 😻

it was a private, searing look that lasted no more than two seconds before he deliberately turned his attention back to the conversation. but it was enough. a current arced between you across the crowded room, a secret energy. your stomach clenched, a familiar heat pooling low in your belly.

this was the game you played. the delicious, maddening, terrifying game of being his secret. six months of stolen glances, of coded text messages, of quick, desperate encounters in back hallways and darkened cars. the secrecy was a kind of constant low level hum of danger that made every touch feel risky. but nights like tonight, surrounded by everyone you were hiding from, were a special kind of torture and thrill.

"are you even listening to me?" hae, hoseok's girlfriend, nudged your arm playfully. you blinked, snapping back to the present. "sorry, zoned out for a second. what were you saying?"

"i was asking if you've seen the view from the terrace yet. it's insane. tae really outdid himself."

"i bet," you murmured, your eyes drifting back to jimin. he had moved now, standing by the large windows, staring out at the city skyline. his profile was sharp, beautiful, the line of his jaw tense. he looked pensive, distant. you wanted nothing more than to go to him, to wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek against his back, but you couldn't. you were just friends, another guest at the party. the thought was a bitter pill.

as if sensing your frustration, he turned from the window. his gaze found you again, and this time, it was heavier, more deliberate. he let his eyes linger, a slow, appreciative sweep from your face down to the bare skin of your legs, exposed by the slit in your dress. you felt the caress of his gaze like a physical touch, your skin prickling with heat. he raised his glass to you in a silent, mocking toast before taking a slow sip. the message was clear:i want you and we can't do a damn thing about it.

you clenched your jaw, taking a gulp of your own champagne. two could play at that game. you set your glass down, stood up, and made your way towards the balcony, deliberately walking a path that would take you right past him. you didn't look at him, but you felt the shift in the air as you approached. you paused by the door to the terrace, pretending to be interested in a piece of art on the wall, your back to him.

"you're playing with fire," a low voice murmured right beside your ear, making you jump. he had moved so silently.

"someone has to," you retorted quietly, not turning around. "you can't just look at me like that and expect me to do nothing."

"like what?" he asked, his voice a challenge. you could feel the warmth radiating from his body and smell the faint, clean scent of his cologne.

"you know exactly how you were looking at me."

he chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that you felt more than heard. "i have no idea what you're talking about. i was just admiring the art."

you finally turned to face him, your eyes flashing. "the art? is that what we're calling it now?"

his smile was wicked, his eyes dark and alive with mischief. "the best kind. a living masterpiece." his gaze dropped to your lips for a fraction of a second. "but you're right. it's not fair." he took a small step closer, bringing you into the shadow of a large ornamental plant near the entryway. the proximity was dizzying. "i've been thinking about that dress you wore last week; how i peeled it off you, how you tasted."

your breath hitched. "jimin, stop."

"or what?" he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "you'll make me stop thinking about bending you over this railing right now?"

a shiver raced down your spine. the risk was immense. taehyung's girlfriend was laughing with jin just a few feet away in the living room. "we can't," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

"i know," he breathed, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, his thumb stroking circles through the thin fabric of your dress. it was an innocent enough touch for anyone who might glance over, but for you, it was branding. "that's what makes it so much fun, isn't it?"

he was right. the fear, the adrenaline, it was all mixing with the raw desire to create a potent cocktail. you could feel your resolve crumbling.

"i have an idea," he whispered, his eyes gleaming. "trust me?"

you looked into his face, searching for any sign of hesitation. there was none. only confidence, desire, and that familiar, dangerous spark. against your better judgment, you nodded.

"good girl," he murmured, the praise sending another wave of heat through you. "finish your drink. walk back to your seat. in two minutes, get up and head for the main hallway. the one by the guest bedrooms. don't look back."

and then he was gone, melting back into the party as smoothly as he'd appeared, leaving you leaning against the wall, your heart hammering against your ribs. you did as he said, your legs feeling unsteady as you walked back to the sofa. you picked up your champagne, your hand trembling so much the liquid sloshed against the sides of the flute. the next two minutes were the longest of your life. you nodded and smiled at the conversation around you, but you heard none of it. all your senses were focused on the hallway, on the promise of what awaited you.

when the time was up, you stood. "just heading to the restroom," you said to no one in particular, your voice sounding surprisingly normal.

the hallway was dimmer, quieter, the thumping bass of the music a distant pulse. you saw him immediately, standing outside a door halfway down the corridor, his back to you. he didn't turn as you approached, but you knew he was aware of your every step. he pushed the door open; a guest bedroom, not the bathroom - and gestured for you to go in.

"jimin, no," you protested in a harsh whisper. "someone's bedroom?"

"relax," he said, following you in and closing the door. the click of the lock was unnervingly loud in the sudden silence. "it's the spare room. no one's been in here tonight." he took your hand, his grip firm, and pulled you further into the room, away from the door. the space was pristine, the bed perfectly made, the air still. it felt like a different world.

"this is insane," you breathed, but you were already moving into his embrace, your body betraying your words.

"completely," he agreed, his lips finding yours. the kiss was desperate, hungry, six months of pent-up frustration and longing pouring into it. his hands were everywhere, tangling in your hair, sliding down your back to cup your ass and pull you flush against him. you could feel how hard he was, the rigid length of him pressing insistently against your stomach through his trousers.

you moaned into his mouth, your own hands roaming his chest, feeling the taut muscle beneath the silk shirt. you wanted to feel his skin, to taste him, to have him in a way that was impossible in this room, on this bed, with a hundred people just outside. the frustration was agonizing.

"i need you," you gasped, breaking the kiss.

"i know, baby. i know," he soothed, his forehead resting against yours. "but we can't. not here. not like this." he took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a moment. when he opened them, they were dark with a new kind of intensity. "but i can't leave you like this. and i can't go back out there like this."

he took your hand and guided it down to the front of his pants, pressing your palm against his straining erection. "see what you do to me?" he groaned. "this is your fault."

a thrill went through you, a surge of feminine power. "then let me fix it," you whispered, your eyes locked on his.

his breath hitched. "here?"

you nodded slowly, a slow smile spreading across your face. the idea was reckless

a slow, wicked grin spread across jimin's face, his eyes darkening with a mixture of surprise and raw, unadulterated lust. "here?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. "right now?"

"right now," you confirmed, your confidence growing with every passing second. the risk was a potent drug, and you were already addicted. you sank to your knees on the plush carpet, the fabric soft against your skin. the movement was graceful, deliberate, your eyes never leaving his. from this angle, you had to look up at him, and the shift in power sent a fresh jolt of arousal straight to your core.

"fuck," he breathed, his hand coming up to rest on the top of your head, his fingers tangling gently in your hair. "you're going to be the death of me."

you smiled, a slow, seductive curve of your lips. "i'll try to make it worth it." your hands went to the buckle of his belt, the metallic clink sounding like a gunshot in the quiet room. you both froze, listening. the party was still a distant, muffled hum of bass and laughter. no one was coming. you continued, your fingers working with practiced ease to undo his trousers. the zipper was next, another sharp sound that made his grip on your hair tighten.

you freed him from the confines of his silk boxers, and he sprang into your waiting hand. he was already rock-hard, the tip flushed and glistening with pre-cum. you took a moment to just look, to appreciate him in the dim light filtering in from the hallway. he was beautiful, perfectly formed, and the knowledge that you were the one who made him this way, who could reduce the confident, charismatic park jimin to this state of desperate need, was heady.

you leaned forward, not taking him into your mouth yet, but letting your warm breath ghost over the sensitive head. he shuddered, a low groan escaping his lips.

"stop teasing," he pleaded, his voice strained.

you smirked and finally gave him what he wanted, swirling your tongue around the tip to taste the salty bead of moisture there. his hips jerked involuntarily, a choked sound catching in his throat. you took him into your mouth then, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until he hit the back of your throat. you relaxed, taking him deeper still, your nose buried in the coarse hair at his base.

"jesus christ," he hissed, his head falling back against the door with a soft thud. "your mouth… so fucking perfect."

you began to move, establishing a rhythm that was both leisurely and intense. you pulled back until just the tip was between your lips, then sank down again, taking him deep. your hands came up to cup his balls, rolling them gently as your mouth worked its magic. you could feel his control fraying, the taut muscles in his thighs trembling under your touch.

you were so lost in the sensation, in the taste and feel of him, that you almost missed it. a sound. footsteps. not the muffled, indistinct noise from the party, but the clear, distinct click-clack of high heels on the hardwood floor of the hallway, getting closer.

panic, cold and sharp, shot through you. you froze, your mouth still full of him. jimin's eyes flew open, wide with alarm. his body went rigid, his hand tightening in your hair, not in pleasure but in a silent command to stay still. the footsteps grew louder, accompanied by a female voice, laughing.

"…so i told him, if you think i'm wearing that, you've lost your mind!" the voice was right outside the door now. it sounded like one of the stylists' assistants.

jimin's eyes were locked on yours, a frantic, silent communication passing between you. don't move. don't make a sound. you could feel his heart hammering through his shaft, the frantic pulse a stark contrast to the stillness of his body. the risk was no longer thrilling; it was terrifying. your own heart was beating so hard you were sure they must be able to hear it through the door.

the doorknob jiggled.

your blood ran cold. it was locked. thank god, it was locked. but what if they had a key? what if taehyung told them where it was?

"strange," the voice outside said. "it's locked. is someone in there?"

a second voice, closer this time, replied, "maybe it's just tae being weird. let's try the other guest room. i think i saw one down by the kitchen."

there was a moment of agonizing silence, and then, blessedly, the sound of the footsteps receding, moving away down the hall.

both of you let out silent, shaky breaths. the adrenaline was still coursing through you, making your hands tremble. you started to pull back, to end this madness, but jimin's grip on your hair tightened, stopping you.

"don't you dare stop," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous command. his eyes were blazing with a fire you'd never seen before, a mixture of fear, relief, and a primal, desperate need that overshadowed everything else. the near-miss hadn't scared him off; it had fueled him.

he began to move his hips, a slow, shallow thrusting into your mouth. "finish it," he breathed, his voice raw. "now."

the command sent a fresh wave of heat through you, washing away the fear and replacing it with a renewed sense of purpose. you redoubled your efforts, your head bobbing faster now, your tongue working feverishly against the sensitive underside of his cock. you hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard, and he rewarded you with a guttural moan that he quickly muffled with his own hand.

"fuck, yes," he whispered, his eyes squeezing shut. "just like that. don't stop."

you could feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming less controlled, more erratic. his breathing was ragged, his whole body tensing like a coiled spring. you looked up at his face, at the way his brow was furrowed in concentration, his lips parted as he fought for breath. he was utterly lost in the pleasure you were giving him, and the sight was the most erotic thing you had ever seen.

"right there," he choked out, his hand fisting in your hair. "i'm gonna… fuck…"

with a final, deep thrust, he came, his body shuddering violently as he spilled himself down your throat. you swallowed quickly, your throat working to take every last drop. you continued to suck him gently, milking him through his orgasm, until he was completely spent.

he slumped against the door, his body limp, his chest heaving. you slowly released him, tucking him back into his trousers and refastening his belt with nimble fingers. you rose to your feet, your knees a little stiff, and met his gaze.

he looked wrecked. his hair was messy, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were heavy-lidded with satisfaction. he reached for you, pulling you into his arms and crushing his lips to yours in a kiss that was less about passion and more about gratitude, and possession.

"you," he said, his voice hoarse as he rested his forehead against yours, "are absolutely insane."

"you knew that when you met me," you whispered back, a smile playing on your lips.

he chuckled, a low, contented sound. "i did." he kissed you again, softer this time, a lingering press of his lips. "and i wouldn't have you any other way."

after a moment, he pulled away, checking his reflection in the dresser mirror and attempting to smooth his hair into some semblance of order. "okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "we go back one at a time. you first. wait two minutes, then i'll follow."

you nodded, your heart already starting to settle back into a normal rhythm. you smoothed down your dress, ran a hand through your own hair, and gave him one last, lingering look before unlocking the door and slipping back out into the hallway. the party was still in full swing, oblivious.

you walked back to the living room, a secret smile on your face, the taste of him still on your lips. you had just reclaimed your seat on the sofa when jimin reappeared, looking cool and composed as if he'd simply been taking a private phone call.

You couldn't help but sulk a little. Not good enough.

It wasn't his fault: you knew what you were signing up for when he invited you to join him for dinner with his team. A light-hearted, professional meal surrounded by people who were more than acquaintances but less than friends.

You took another sip of your martini, letting the burn of the liquor fizzle out in the back of your throat, hitting you where it made your eyes almost water.

The restaurant was pretty: dimmed lights cast hazy shadows over the white tablecloths, with little tea candles set neatly on every table. The conversation was light, discussing Jimin's schedule while he was back in town, before he would be in Spain for the next stop of the tour.

"Well, since you fly out next week, we'll have you stop at Dior for a fitting and some press photos for them before you leave. Can we make that your Monday plans?"

You tried not to frown. You already had very limited time with him back in Seoul, and even though you knew that he would fly you out to see him at any given moment, it bothered you that he couldn't just give you all of him while he was back.

And maybe you were selfish for that.

"Monday is good for me," Jimin nodded, his hand lifting off your leg to take another sip of his drink. The part of your leg that he was just holding suddenly felt too cold.

In another weak attempt to steal his attention, you leaned into him a little further, letting the ends of your hair tickle against his shoulder. Jimin turned to you briefly with a sweet little smile.

"You're doing okay?"

"Guess so." You gave him a reluctant nod, and he pecked your nose before turning his attention back to the rest of the table.

In a moment of defeat, you lifted your head off his shoulder, turning your attention to the rest of the dining room for a moment. You absentmindedly brushed your hand down his arm, landing it on his upper thigh. You felt his muscles tense under your touch, even though his head was still turned away from you.

That wasn't nothing.

You glanced down at his reaction, letting your hand lie there, as if scanning for another movement, checking that it wasn't just in your head. You brushed your hand against his trousers again, dragging one manicured nail up towards his waistband curiously. Another flex of his muscle. This time, Jimin turned to look at you.

"All good?" he gave you a little smile, a hint of curiosity behind it.

"Mhm," you nodded, before letting him return to his conversation.

Maybe this was a bad idea. He was technically working. And yet, the drinks were feeling just good enough, in that sweet spot that made anything you thought now feel like a good idea.

Especially if it meant making him mad.

A little smile grew on your face as the idea came into your head, fully formed and eager.

You dropped both hands from the table, tucking them under the tablecloth innocently. First, one hand on his knee, the other hanging dangerously close to the hem of your dress. You lifted your hand up onto your fingertips, letting each of your nails drag slowly, purposefully up the length of his thigh. Jimin's eyes widened a little as he listened to his manager chat with him, before his hand disappeared under the tablecloth, his hand covering yours, pinning it still.

Just as you thought.

Your free hand crept up over his lap, tugging innocently on his belt loop, just enough to let him know you were there. No reaction.

You tested the waters, stepping your fingers over to the clasp of his trousers, just fiddling with it enough to make him nervous.

"Baby," he murmured to you, his tone shifting ever so slightly in only a way that you knew to notice. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you said innocently. Jimin looked at you, his eyes still warm on the outside, but a flicker of annoyance definitely shone through if you really took the time to look.

Below the edge of the table, he took your hand and gently plucked it off of his zipper fly, before returning it to your domain. And this time, it felt final. 

The dinner briefly returned to normal, your own frustration at bay for a few minutes, until a fantastically evil idea popped into your head when one of the gentlemen at the table suggested another round of drinks. As soon as the server arrived to take orders, you requested another martini, to which Jimin gave you a light squeeze on your leg. 

“You sure you haven’t had too much to drink, my love?” His voice was sweet, the lingering tone of annoyance just barely detectable on his tongue. What a gentleman.

But you wanted to be anything but ladylike with him right now. 

“I’m doing just fine, Jimin-ssi,” you said with a little smirk. 

His jaw ticked, just a little at that nickname. Jimin hated it when you talked to him like you were just pals. He was your boyfriend, and you were his woman, and he liked keeping it in that tone. The way you talked to him, like he was just another classmate, got under his skin, and you knew it very well. 

As soon as the server left, your hands were back to trying to explore his lap. Jimin couldn’t fight you this time; he was trying so hard not to fight you at the table because he was such a professional. All of that went out the window when you got bolder and dropped your hand right over the crotch of his pants. Not moving, but just letting the weight of your palm burn through the material of his trousers, heavy and present. 

And this time, his reaction was definitely not nothing. 

Jimin wasn’t very good at hiding his expressions, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the little ‘O’ that formed with his mouth at your touch before he leaned forward against the table. And unfortunately for him, both his hands were busy as he tried to cut another piece of his meal with his fork and knife. You took the opportunity to palm him a little more properly now, nothing too vulgar, but just enough to knead him comfortably through his trousers, feel the blood and stiffness start to build up under your fingertips. Your smile grew a little wider before you caught yourself, poking your tongue in your cheek so as not to raise suspicion. He caught a glance of your expression, your cheekiness making him all the more bothered.

Jimin looked properly irritated now, the tension manifesting itself on his face. His one hand dropped to his lap, landing on your wrist before holding it steady. 

The conversation eventually drifted from Jimin to between two other staff members, and he finally turned to face you.

“Whatever you’re trying to do, baby, stop it,” he warned in a low whisper. “Not here.” His hand held your wrist steady, freezing your hand in its tracks. 

You gave him a playful pout before leaning in to whisper in his ear. 

“Unlucky for you, I have two hands,” you purred, before letting your other hand resume what the first was doing, massaging and palming him over his trousers just under the tablecloth. 

Jimin’s eyes fluttered for a second, almost like he was about to let out a groan, before they widened and he remembered exactly where he was. His stern look returned to his face, but his eyes seemed a little wider, as if silently begging you to obey him. 

And of course, you weren’t going to. 

As soon as the server returned with the drinks, you decided to perform your grand finale. An innocent reach over the table to collect your drink became a careless knock of your wrist, just enough to tip Jimin’s own half-full water glass all over the table…and his lap. 

“Shit,” he muttered as he hopped up a little in his seat, the cool water soaking into the top layer of his clothing. 

“Oh no,” his manager said with a small frown. “Jimin, you’re okay?” 

Jimin nodded up at him, still a little flustered, his irritation growing increasingly apparent on his face. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, honey. Here, let me,” you cooed.

You took your napkin off the table and pressed it innocently against his lap, but hidden beneath the white fabric square, you dragged your full palm and fingers up the outline of his hardened length. Jimin visibly jolted in his seat as you continued stroking him through the cloth, applying just enough pressure to make him squirm. Jimin looked at you in disbelief as you dragged your hand up from base to tip in one firm motion, your eyes batting innocently up at him, your teeth buried sweetly into your lower lip, giving him a look that you knew he understood. 

“We can ask the server for another napkin,” another staff member offered before putting her hand up to call the server over.

“Oh, that’s a good idea, thank you,” you cooed, still palming him under the guise of drying him. He knocked his head back a little with a frustrated, furrowed brow as you continued sizing him up in the middle of the restaurant. 

“Mmph,” Jimin let out a muffled groan before coughing. But for some miraculous reason, his hands never came up to stop yours.

“I’m so sorry, honey; I didn’t mean to,” you said, drawling out your words ever so slightly. You leaned up into his ear, pressing your lips directly against his ear before whispering, “Please forgive me, Jimin.”

Jimin looked like he was going to snap. 

“It’s okay,” he says through gritted teeth before desperately shoving your hand off him, leaving the very evident tent in his pants abandoned under the tablecloth. 

You took a satisfied sip of your drink, the cocky smile unable to hide on your expression. Jimin noticed your look, and it made him a little more irritated. You didn’t even look one bit sorry.

After a few painfully long minutes of Jimin shuffling uncomfortably in his seat, stiff in his pants, with your eyeing him like he was your favourite dessert, the dinner finally came to its well-deserved end.

“It’s getting late,” one of the gentlemen says with a quick scan of his watch. “And Mr. Park’s in need of an outfit change, so maybe we should call it a night,” he says with a chuckle.

Jimin was a gentleman; he would always stay until the bill was settled and walk everyone out. But tonight was different. He hurriedly stood up before collecting his bag and helping you out of your chair. 

“Thank you for tonight,” he said with a small, rushed bow to the table, his hand conveniently covering his crotch. “I’m just feeling a bit tired now, so if you don’t mind, Y/N and I are going to go.” You gave a little bow together with him, before waving at the rest of the team. 

The walk back to the car was quiet. Jimin’s hand held yours in a way that made it feel like you were in trouble, and you could already feel the stir building up in your belly. You leaned against the wall sweetly as Jimin hit the elevator button for the underground lot. 

“Jimin-ah,” you cooed, your head cocked a little extra as you let your hair cascade off your shoulders. “Aren’t you going to talk to me?” Jimin glared at you, jaw ticking, and said nothing. 

The elevator arrived with a muted ding, and the two of you stepped inside. 

“Listen,” you turned your head to lean against his shoulder again, letting out a breathy exhale just as a cherry on top. “I’m sorry about the wat–” 

His hand suddenly came forward, pressing the emergency stop button with a forceful smack of his hand.

You dropped your act for a moment.

“Jimin, what are y–” 

You were cut off by his mouth driving into yours, harsh and angry, and you almost couldn’t tell if he wanted to kiss you or just shut you the fuck up. You let out an involuntary whine at his aggression, your hands finding themselves in his long blonde hair immediately. 

“Is this what you wanted? Screwing with me at dinner until I lost my composure? Huh?” Jimin growled into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but let out a satisfied giggle back. 

His hands immediately consumed your body, gripping your waist and pulling you closer to him, every inch of your body being pinned against his. Even through his dress shirt, you could feel the hard ridges of his toned abdomen underneath, the flex of his torso making you smile deeper into the kiss. Jimin continued kissing you, his teeth nibbling and snapping at your lower lip as he practically ate you alive. Your teeth were knocking together, messy and furious, his brows furrowed as he kissed you with all the anger that he had been desperately hiding throughout dinner. 

“You’re a little fucking brat sometimes, my love,” he hissed, pulling away just enough to speak against your mouth. You grinned back.

“I wasn’t doing anything, Jimin.” Your eyes were wide and mischievous, looking up at him like you loved being where you were.

“Yeah, and you looking at me like that and practically purring like a cat wasn’t anything either, huh?” 

You felt your stomach flutter: Jimin and you were mostly a very agreeable couple, no fights, no disagreements. He was just too sweet for that. But when he did get annoyed, his Busan accent would come right back up, trickling through every sentence he spoke. Compared to his everyday intonation, his hometown dialect came out harsh and scary, and it drove you absolutely insane. And that alone had you picking fights with him whenever you were feeling extra needy. 

You gave him an innocent little smile, “My mistake.” 

Jimin let out a scoff, his eyes dark and dangerous now.

“A mistake, yah?”

He sank his teeth into the flesh above your collarbone, and you let out a little yelp. 

“Jimin–” you whined, bringing your body closer to his instinctively, before your hand came up to push him off, the realization that you were still just in an elevator suddenly making you feel flustered. 

“What, now you’re shy, hm?” Jimin’s satoori bled thick in every word, the anger poisoning his tone. “What, you only like to be a slut when you’re hidden under a tablecloth, huh?” 

Jimin continued devouring your neck, sucking and nibbling until you were certain that there was a fresh, red, purple bruise, marking you as his own. You whined in response, the slight snap of your skin from being released by his jaw making you flinch. 

“Now that this,” Jimin’s hand came up to grip your neck firmly, his thumb pressing into the bruise he had just left, “is on full display on your pretty body, you want to hide away from me?” 

You shied away from his gaze, turning your face away to the side, your cheeks already flushed at the way he handled you. With his hand still on your neck, he lifted his finger to force your chin back towards him, his eyes still piercing through you.

“Look at me when I talk to you.” 

Jimin’s hand was still wrapped tightly around your throat, pressing into the sides of the column just enough for you to see stars. You couldn’t help but let out a whiny breath as he pulled you into him like a ragdoll, smashing his lips against yours feverishly once again. He consumed you through your mouth, drawing the air from your lungs and replacing it with only him. Once you were gasping for breath, he pulled you off of him by the neck, pinning you so easily with his one hand.

He took a step towards you, guiding you back like a couple’s dance until your back hit the wall of the elevator, the little handrail pressing coldly into the thin fabric of your dress just above your bum. You let out a soft whimper at his roughness with you, and his eyes danced across your face hungrily before bringing you back to his mouth. His other hand tugged on the hem of your dress, before it disappeared under the black fabric of your dress. 

Your eyes widened as his fingers roamed over the fabric of your underwear, already clinging desperately against your warm, wet heat. 

“Oh, you’re already a mess.” 

Jimin smiled, his eyes crinkling into half moons as he laughed at you. Suddenly, you felt embarrassed in the tiny enclosed space of the elevator with him. Jimin continued to massage his middle and ring fingers against your core, letting the fabric cling to your skin, parting your folds with each bend of his wrist.

“Jimin,” you whispered, your hand coming up to grip his wrist as he moved his fingers against your wet underwear.

“What? This isn’t what you wanted? Then what was all that back at the restaurant for, hm? Don’t tell me you’re backing out now.” Jimin snickered at you, his voice low and gravelly as he mused at how desperate you already were for him. 

His slender finger looped into the stretch of your fabric before tugging it aside. The cool air of the elevator suddenly reminded you how very much in public you two were. Your hand came up against to tug on his wrist, a weak attempt at getting him to stop. Jimin smacked your hand away with a scoff before slipping his middle and ring fingers into the depths of your aching heat. 

“Oh–” you whimpered at the curl of his fingers against your desperate walls. He kept your head dropped forward, the intensity of his touch already stirring up a storm in your core as he beckoned you closer to him with each curl of his fingers inside you. 

“Yeah, you like being touched like this in an elevator, dirty girl?” he chuckled, his eyes still smiling and cocky as he watched you start to lose any semblance of self-control under his spell. 

“Ye-yeah,” you moaned, bucking your hips into his hand, encouraging him to continue. “Whatever you want, baby.” 

“That’s right,” he groaned into your lips. “Whatever I want.” 

He continued curling his fingers into you, pumping and knocking your sensitive spot with every beck and call. He kept your legs pinned open with his knee, slotted between your thighs, holding you open as your dress only barely hid what was happening. 

No, that was too generous. The way Jimin had you falling apart in his hands, the whimpers and yelps that fell from your lips: everyone with eyes and ears could look at you two and know exactly what was going on. 

“Ji-min–” you trembled, your walls starting to flutter uncontrollably at how well he was working you. “I–I want to–cum on your fingers. Please.” 

He let out a low snicker. 

“So horny and desperate already, honey? You’re so easy.” 

He added his thumb into the equation, using the pad of his thumb to gently stimulate your clit as he kept his other two fingers buried inside your dripping cunt. He kept his forehead pressed against yours, not kissing you, not touching you, but just watching how well his fingers made you react, the moans he was milking out of you with every torturous thrust of his hand against you. 

“Pl-please,” you stuttered, your orgasm peeking over the horizon already as your boyfriend held you open on his thigh against the wall.

Jimin kept his tongue poking in his cheek, the cocky grin permanently affixed to his pretty face as you were a trembling, pouting mess. You could tell he was laughing at you.

“Such a dirty girl, hm, my love?” he whispered against your mouth. “Begging for an orgasm while–” he turned his head away from you and nodded up towards the blinking red light of the security camera in the corner. “–You’re on perfect display.”

Your eyes widened at the realization that you were being recorded, that somewhere, in this complex, there was at least one security guard watching you fall apart on your famous boyfriend’s hand. Your cheeks burned intensely, your head falling forward against Jimin’s chest. He laughed at your reaction, his hand still not relenting. 

“You didn’t think we were doing this in perfect privacy, were you?” He sneered. “Not after that trick you tried to pull in the restaurant, baby. You don’t deserve to be hidden away tonight.” 

The coil in your stomach was impossibly tight, the buildup making every limb go rigid at how desperately you were craving release. Jimin sensed how close you were and pressed his lips firmly against yours, letting his tongue explore the inside of your mouth, muffling every pathetic whimper that fell from your mouth. 

“You wanna cum on my fingers, is that it, jagiya?” he murmured into your mouth, smiling between wet, sloppy kisses as he gave you a moment each time to breathe. “Wanna make a mess on your boyfriend’s hand while the security team watches you?” 

You nodded your head fervently, bucking your hips up into his hand, his thumb still pressed perfectly into your clit as he rubbed firm circles against you, stimulating you in a way that made you want to cry. You were a goner now: the pleasure invading your thoughts and wiping out any remaining sense of logic.

Jimin watched you with intense eyes as you arched your back, your mouth fell open into an ‘O’, and your eyes began to flutter shut. You were on edge. He kissed you one more time before pulling away with a wet, loud pop. He came impossibly close to your ear, his warm breath hammering against your eardrum.

“Too bad it isn’t up to you tonight.” 

And with that, suddenly, all your stimulation and touch disappeared. He pulled his fingers out of you in one swift motion, the teetering of your climax suddenly crashing down, the pulsing twitch of your clit left abandoned in the cool metal room. 

“No–no–please,” you sobbed, the tension in your stomach still very uncomfortably present. You reached up to grip his hand and pull him closer, your lips flushed and swollen. “Jimin, please, I’m sorry–”

“Far too late for that.” Jimin caught your hand before you could pull him closer, pinning your wrist against the cold metal wall. 

“Please, baby, I want–fuck–I’m so close,” you cried, your eyes wide and begging as your boyfriend smiled at his own satisfaction of seeing you fall apart at his touch. He ignored you with a smirk, licking and sucking his own fingers clean.

“Such a delicious little slut for me,” he hummed as he relished in your taste that dripped from his digits, his eyes closing for a moment as he drank you off his own hand.

He took a step away from you, his body disconnecting itself from yours entirely, before he ran a hand through his hair, pushing his blonde bangs out of his eyes. 

“Get on your knees.” 

You blinked at him before glancing back up to the camera in the corner.

“Jimin…the ca–” 

“I said get on your fucking knees, Y/N.” His tone was sharp, demanding, and immediately, you understood what you had gotten yourself into. The pierce of his tone went immediately to your core, and your pussy clenched desperately at the nothingness inside.

With a low whine, you slowly dropped yourself to your knees, still staring at the camera lens in the corner. The floor of the elevator was cold against your bare knees, and you leaned yourself back onto your heels, your head leaning against the elevator wall. Jimin took a step towards you, unbuckling his belt with one hand as he kept his other hand on top of your head, petting your hair and holding you down as if you were his very own pet. 

“Hands on the railing.” His eyes were dark and blown out impossibly wide now, the edges of his iris almost completely hidden by his lust, by his intense pleasure in being in control, owning you like this.

You obeyed him with a nod and reached up above your head to grip the handrail with both hands like you were lifting a bar at the gym. You let your arms dangle as you held the handrail, hungry for Jimin to do to you what he wanted. He unzipped his trousers, the clasp falling open with the force of his hard-on threatening to poke through the fabric. 

Jimin took himself in his hand now, pumping himself slowly at your eye level as you watched him with wide, gleaming eyes. His tip was glistening in the dim fluorescent light, his precum dripping out of his flushed slit like he had been holding himself back for a while. You felt your mouth water as he poked the tip of his cock against your lips, tapping his flushed, warm head gently but possessively against your face as he smirked at you. 

“You begged for my attention all fucking night, now you got it.” And then he parted your lips forcefully, splitting your mouth open with his heavy, thick cock. 

You gasped, letting him slide all the way into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat, the fullness of your mouth almost making you choke. He stayed there for a moment, his eyes peering down at you. His smile was completely gone from his face and replaced by his dark, lustful glare. He owned you now, and he wanted you to know it.

With one hand behind your head, he brought his other hand to your jaw, holding your mouth open for him as he began to fuck your mouth. The push of his cock against your throat made you gag, the contraction of your throat around him coaxing a low groan out of his mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, that’s it,” he hissed as he rutted his hips into your face. “Let me fuck this pretty face as she deserves.” 

Your hands were still wrapped around the railing over your head, obeying him so sweetly as he rocked his cock deeper into your throat, fucking your hole like you were only his to use. His V-line peeked out from under his untucked dress shirt, flexing with every thrust. The sight of him above you like this was driving you crazy, and you felt your own arousal start to drip down your leg. Your core was still desperate for release, but you were too drunk off what was happening to you to notice that now. 

You felt yourself start to choke on his length as he sheathed himself completely inside your throat, and your hand released from the handrail to nudge him off of you, begging for air. Within a second, Jimin caught your wrist, bringing it back to the handrail.

“Did I fucking say you could let go? Keep your hands up before I do something about it,” he hissed. His voice was husky, rough with his own arousal as he forced you to grab the handrail again. 

Your hands returned to their rightful spot on the handrail, and Jimin’s hand returned to the back of your head, using the force of his hand and his hips to drive his cock deeper and more forcefully into your mouth. Your eyes were streaming with tears now, every whimper that fell from your mouth getting drowned out and muffled against his length. 

He caught a glimpse of how prettily you were crying, and Jimin smirked, tongue in his cheek, before nodding his head back towards the corner.

"Look at you," he growled. “Getting your face fucking ruined in an elevator on camera.” 

Fat tears rolled down your face now, your cheeks flushed at the thought of someone else seeing you like this. Jimin continued holding you open for him, your mouth full of saliva and his own fluids, nearly drowning you with the mess in your mouth. Your knuckles were white as you held on for dear life to the handrail, balancing yourself as your boyfriend had you pinned between the wall and his groin. 

“Fuck, you’re going to make me cum with this pretty mouth,” he hissed. “You wanna take my load, don’t you, baby?” 

You nodded the best that you could with how firmly he gripped you, trapping you against the wall. Jimin licked his lower lip, his mouth falling open into a panting smile, before he gave you a wink.

His cock knocked back into your throat a few more times before he suddenly pulled himself out. You spluttered for air, gasping as he continued jerking himself off at your eye level. You leaned your head back towards him with an open mouth, begging to taste him again.

“Jimin, baby, let me swallow–” 

But Jimin’s hand came down to grip you by the neck again, pinning you in place, and you silenced yourself immediately.

“Only good girls get what they want.” 

He took a step away from your begging mouth, pumping himself a few times before he released onto your skin. His other hand held you roughly by the jaw as he painted his climax across your nose, lips, cheeks, and chin, every erotic spurt of his seed on your face running down your face so lewdly.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned as he milked himself through his high. “Take it all over your pretty face. Show the world who owns you.” 

You blinked up at him, your cheeks wet from tears and saliva, so ruined and on your knees at your boyfriend’s feet. His chest was heaving rapidly as he took you in, before tilting your head to face the camera, as if showing off his prize.

“All mine,” he tutted as he showed you off to the lens. You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, your face messy and wet, and Jimin released your jaw with a lazy fling of his fingers.

“Stand up,” he commanded, his eyes still clouded. You slowly climbed to your feet with the help of his hand, his eyes still piercing through you unchanged. The evidence of his pleasure was still dripping off your chin and lips, his ownership signed on your face in white ink. 

Jimin reached into his inside jacket pocket, tugging out a little packet of tissues. With one hand gripped firmly on your jaw, he held you possessively as he wiped your face clean, a small cocky smile burning into his face. 

“My pretty girl,” he hummed as he cleaned you up like you were his precious little girl, before balling up the tissue and shoving it in his pocket. 

Without another thought, he pressed the open button on the wall, the doors sliding open on the parking level with an inconspicuous ding. You trailed behind him as he tugged you forward, his hand over yours as you walked back to the car. 

“I’ll think about giving you an orgasm of your own if you’re a good girl until we get home,” he hummed as he ran a hand through his hair, his elegant, public persona briefly returning as he guided you through the parking lot.

“Jimin, what if–the security footage,” you whispered, concern in your tone. 

“Don’t worry about it. Jungkook’s pulled something like this before. Legal team had the whole thing shut down before anyone ever found out. We’re good,” He murmured. 

As you two approached the car, he gave you a little smack on the bum before whispering in your ear. 

“But a part of you would like that footage to get leaked, wouldn’t you, baby?” 

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i know that crazy attitude and temper is still in there somewhere