#btspocnet

At every and any small intermission you were offered during the heated class, you dashed towards the toilets letting your sweaty fingers hectically slip against the cold metal of the tap handles. The cold water slipping past your fingers as you tapped its remains on your skin, hoping to cool down or at least seem cool enough. But there’s only so much a little bit of cold water could do for your overheated body. As aware as you were about this, you made it a habit, involuntary of course, to let some of that desire out in the confinements of one of the bathroom stalls.

Today is no exception. You rush to the toilet, rugged breaths filling the air as you snap the flimsy lock shut, bending over to roll off your snug cycling shorts. You think back to Hoseok’s instructions : “You should always keep an eye on your breathing while doing vigorous exercise, you want to avoid back pain and strain on your blood vessels.” Back in class you almost let your thoughts tumble through your heaving mouth. “I don’t think exercise is the one doing that”.

As obedient as you are, you let deep puffs reverberate through your chest before diving in. Your hands, tired from clenching hard against the handle of the cycle to stay on it, tremble their way down your folds swinging with the same dynamic present in Hoseok’s glistening legs while he pedals. Your eyes flutter, blinding you from your surroundings, mind tumbling through all the imprinted images of your instructor you have stored in your mind.

That’s all you need. For now.

While you suck at cycling and picking up speed in that circumstance, the image of Hoseok’s huffing mouth, stable legs, and bouncing brown locks, drenched with his hard work, sticking to him the way you wanted him to stick to you, was more than enough for the tentative deep plunge of your fingers to rival the set speed record for your spin class.

Remember: deep breaths Y/N. You slow down, finger languidly straining against your walls. You hit a particular spot, staggering on the one leg touching the ground as your other hand anchors your edged form onto the whimsy bathroom stall walls.

The slow pace allows you to revel in the imagery of Hoseok’s long fingers pointed high in the air to countdown to your thirty second long spinning sprint, imagining those long digits plunged into the same heat your fingers are scissoring. He would know exactly what to do, ordering consecutive gushes of arousal out of you, the same way his fingers point towards your direction when he sees your energy falter.

With Hoseok, nothing but one hundred percent was acceptable. While you couldn’t always keep the promise of giving him just that in all of his classes, if he were to ask you, whether it be after class or somewhere in the lobby of the gym building, you would say yes to showing him where you excelled without fail.

Heart beating a firing rhythm you would snatch his trained fingers to some designated corner of the building, ready to get on your knees and stay there to take it all, the one posture you knew you could manage to keep without fail. Anything for Hoseok really.

Dripping fingers, drying cycling shorts clinging to your heated flesh, you croak out a moan, doing your best to quiet it down in the sleeve of your gym top. “Shit—” your hips buck into your erratic palm as you knead the sensitive flesh of your bud, hissing through clenched teeth.

“What the fuck are you doing to me, Hoseok,” the whispered whine travels to the small cracks of the bathroom stall, the sloppy sounds of your continued assault on your wetness bounce against the walls to fall upon the ears of the figure entering the toilet room.

“Hmmmm, fuck Hoseo—”

Your anticipated wave of pleasure catches your breath, stuttering breaths colouring the air with its warm essence. “Ahhhh,” you sigh into the sensation rippling through your bones, fisted hand sprawling itself across the cool wood of the bathroom stall door. A particular touch of your knuckles against your clit has your nails scratch against the material.

In the heat of the moment, eyelids heavy and ears focused on recalling the authority of Hoseok’s voice, you fail to register the footsteps that sound in the room. Footsteps that stall themselves during your explosive demonstration of your instructor’s effect on your body only to leave the toilet room after you’ve calmed down and said in a condescending yet satisfied tone, “How pathetic, masturbating to your instructor in the bathroom like some teenager. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Puffing out what’s left of your pent up air, you drag your fingers from your settling walls, staring longingly at the wetness and wishing you could be looking at another pair of fingers glazed with your cum.

Hand hanging lazily by your side you do your best to lift your shorts back up to a correct position using your only available hand. You fiddle with the lock, slowly opening the door. You peek to see if there’s anyone there to whom you might reveal your latest conquest  and only probe your head out of the stall when the coast feels clear.

As weak as legs might feel, you do your best to hurry up with the cleaning, washing the product of your forbidden fantasy down the drain just like the possibility of ever actually having the honour to let yourself be used by him in any way he sees fit.

Commanding words and strokes telling you exactly what he wants you to do for him, to give to him and you doing your absolute best to abide with clenched fists and a gagging mouth. You feel yourself fall down the rabbit hole, again, but you bring yourself back with a good shake of your head. You do not have another ten minutes to calm yourself down by attempting to fulfill your own lust.

You take one last look at the mirror to check that you do not look abnormally flustered before you leave to head back into the spinning room, face sweet and innocent, unlike the thoughts trying to invade your mind the moment your eyes focus on their inevitable target.

The hypnotising movement of his lips. Inviting and pink and shimmering from the quick swipe of his pointed lip against the surface. You sigh, in desperation, wishing for the presence of that muscle somewhere else. How pathetic of you, you think, almost releasing a single sobbing sound out of frustration. If only he knew.

You heave yourself into the cycle, fitting your tensed feet into the small caged armor of the pedal, unaware that Hoseok indeed knew and was very much ready to act on it.

His sudden constant and deliberate churning of your increasingly hot figure has you agitated, gaze meeting the floor. It is unusual for Hoseok to get off of his spin bike and personally assist you with your posture. Rather, he settled for quick commanding reminders that were shouted as enthusiastically as possible despite the sternness of his sweating face.

Yet for some reason, unbeknownst to you, he stops spinning and drags his taut slim legs all the way to where you like to stay at the back of the class, to personally adjust your swaying pelvis. “Engage your core. Squeeze your glutes.” He says, the order somehow managing to sound even louder than the blasting music. This is the first time he has touched you. You immediately stop spinning, hips swaying even more than before, chasing the inviting and rough heat of his short finger glove covered hands.

Your heart should have calmed down by the time he got back on his bike, but it doesn’t. You fail to admit to yourself that the coincidental eye contact you had with Hoseok in his classes, was more than enough to throw off your already fumbling posture.

If his wandering eyes are enough for you to follow their movement, accentuating each part that they laid on, his hands on your straining body is all you need to alleviate the ache of your muscles. You turn into a puddle, something that manifests itself right between your legs even before your body comes in contact with his.

“Okay guys, we have another half hour before we are done, so stay with me and there will be a sweet treat at the end,” Hoseok shouts out to the class, bursting your little thought bubble. Your eyes close as you nod, encouraging yourself to pull through, not for the sweet treat but for you. It’s the least you can do given how much you pay for these classes. But what a shame that your eyes are closed, unable to register the hungry and curious gaze Hoseok throws your way.

Twenty minutes have gone by, or maybe just ten? You feel so hot and disoriented from all the effort you’re putting in. Yawning, and trying your best to rid yourself of the final remains of sleep, you had theorised in your car that your goal for this class was to beat your old record, the one you had back when you came to class for the right reasons. Before the thought of riding Hoseok overtook your ambition to get fitter.

Calves burning, every muscle pushing itself to the verge of exhaustion, you think back to your breathing. Your mouth opens and closes as if you are giving birth, trying its best to collect all of the sweat ridden air needed to keep you going.

“Five minutes left. Keep going, you’re almost there!”

Your hanging head, that was focused on counting the sweat droplets falling from your face onto the shiny floor, shoots up to look at your instructor. It must be because of his job as a trainer and a coach that Hoseok flashes you his dashing smile the minute your eyes, gleaming with hope at the prospect of the class soon coming to an end, meets his own soft gaze.

Not wanting to seem rude or like a total nutjob, you tame your panting mouth into a simple smile, no teeth so as to not come across as too excited about something as infantile as eye contact. He winks in response and you swear you almost twist your ankle leaning forward to check if your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

Hoseok’s good at his job. He manages to keep your mind away from the propagating ache in your body as your legs chase time, looking to leave the room with your own small victory. He keeps you rooted and gives you the last bit of energy you need to make it. The timer beeps, startling you. You shake in your seat, breaking your contact with his warm brown eyes. If this is the power of his eyes, what the heck does his body have in store?

As much as you would want to let your mind wander to give you a probable hypothesis to the complicated case that is Hoseok, you’re too far gone to think that deep. Drained and sweaty, your arms dangle on your sides as you let your head lifelessly fall onto the bar of the spin bike. Too weak to push yourself back up but still wanting to know how far you cycled, you roll your drenched head onto the speed counter and stare down at it. At the sight of the double digit number, larger than the previous feat you had achieved, you sigh, a light laugh slipping past your dry lips. Finally some good news. As a way of congratulating yourself, you pat your thighs with the little force you have spared.

The surrounding claps invade your wandering ears, as people shout out, patting themselves in the back and congratulating others for pulling through. Nobody congratulates you but it’s nothing you haven’t had to handle before. Content with your progress, you step off the cycle.

You gather your items, hurrying as you feel the effects of gorging on too much liquid during class. With a drenched towel hanging of your forearm and an empty water bottle in your other hand you speed to the unisex toilet.  

As you set your belongings on the sink countertop, someone enters. You don’t bother to spare them a glance, something you regret the minute Hoseok’s familiar tight fitting cycling top is reflected on the wide mirror. Your head instinctively looks his way to admire the soft slope of his nose and the harsh lines of his profile. He knows you’re looking to which he smirks softly. Your body shifts more to your right, afraid of what other things, sinful things,  you might feel compelled to do if you stay so close to him.

You aggressively pump some soap into your palm, anything to remove the silence etched in the surrounding air. Hoseok does the same, except he does it graciously like everything else he’s ever done.

“Y/N, right?” He inquires, letting a steady stream of water wet his hands as he lathers them.

Your mind tells you he’s simply asking for formality’s sake. Did he plan to keep a conversation with you in the bathroom? How much could you possibly fit into the time it takes to wash your hands? Unless he plans on drawing it out and drying out his skin? Many more questions run through my mind as you bite your lips, eyes staring at the floor until they inevitably wander up his legs.

This is your verbal first interaction with him that doesn’t seem to hint at any subject related to your given roles in the establishment, a trainer and his trainee. No, he’s asking as Hoseok, curious to know about a certain regular Y/N who spends her free time thinking indecent thoughts about his body.

Realising that you’re taking too long to answer to your own name, you blurt out, “YES!” before clearing your throat in hopes to compose yourself. Swallowing thickly, you have another go at it, “I mean, yes, that’s my name. Y/N is me.”

While your ears warm up at your embarrassing behaviour, Hoseok’s soft chuckle manages to overpower the loud hand dryer. Usually, once someone’s done cleaning their hands they leave the bathroom and that’s exactly what you see Hoseok do. You watch him walk up to the toilet room door only to turn back around to face the mirror, doing your best not to let the dejected feeling in you overtake your features.

You breathe in, trying your best to catch your sanity. He was just being nice and trying to  break the tension, one you seem to believe could only be perceived from your side. With eyes closed, you let the cool rush of the water provide some sort of relaxation and solution to your heated body. Your dripping hands reach towards the hand dryer on your side only to reach back when you think about the hot air, you don't need to get fired up again, so you decide to pat yourself dry with paper towels.

Ready to leave, you look up into the mirror to take one last inspection at your face.

Oh.

Hoseok’s eyes catch your own. He’s leaning against the toilet’s room door frame, head slightly hanging to his side and tongue dancing calmly in the small intrusion between his lips. You thought he left?

You want to look away, but you can’t. Not only because of the demanding energy coating his eyes, but also because of the entrancing way he runs a hand past his hair, heel kicking against the door as he pushes himself off of it.

He darts towards you. Or at least that’s what it feels like to you. An overwhelming wave of desire coats your senses forcing your legs to stagger backwards as your butt comes in contact with the hard and cold edge of the sink counter.

Those hands, those fingers, the ones you’ve fantasied about having buried inside of you or stuffed in your mouth, find their way on each side of you anchoring themselves on the hard surface as Hoseok corners.

He’s close. Close enough to hear your shallow breathing, to notice your confused yet intrigued eyes and to smell the fertilised desperation in your body. Head somewhat leaned down so as to reach your gaze, he lets his eyes take their own free tour around your face, mouth slightly parted.

“I don’t think it’s pathetic at all,” he breathes out, sloping down to bathe your hot ears in his warm breath, “it’s cute, actually.” The sweet tone is almost enough to deceive you of his intentions but the prominent scraping of his teeth against your earlobe makes it clear.

Your chest curls into itself at the action, slipping down, out of reach from his inviting mouth. You want to think it’s a coincidence that Hoseok references your words from earlier but to simply think isn’t enough, you need to confirm it. “Uhmm… I don’t kn–ow what you’re referring to.” It comes out more jagged than you intended to as he steps closer, so as to almost graze your heaving chest.

A pout on his lips, his gaze zig zags across your features, “See, cute.”

You feel like you’re melting. Your face finds refuge in the minor protection of your shoulder as you squeeze your eyes shut. This is all you had thought about. To have Hoseok look at you as if he already knew what is obscured from his sigh, for now, a sight he couldn’t wait to explore. To let his eyes, hands and mouth colour his imagination into reality.

“I mean that it would be nice if I could show you what I can actually do to you.” If you were properly breathing before you sure you aren’t anymore. His voice is covered with sweetness and curiosity. It acts as both a gentle threat and a request. He could and would show you.

The rub of your knee against his thinly clothed thigh says yes before you manage to catch enough air to utter an eager “please”, eyes opening to stare at his chest. “Go ahead,” at the sight of your yearning eyes he encourages you. The thin elastic material did little to protect your sanity from the hardness of his body.

Had your eyes been closed, you could have been fooled into believing that you were touching his naked chest. You pinch the material, tugging it off his skin only to let it slap back down. Something that brings a soft smile to Hoseok’s shifting lips. Hoping that he understands your wordless request, you repeat the action a couple more times.

He dodges your eyes more than once, letting his playful side show, before he leans into you. Your lips collide, strong enough to have your head inclined against the mirror, your body moving upwards at every hungry push of his determined body. You latch onto him, hands lacing themselves around his straining biceps as you match the feverish dance of his tongue.

If your moaning wasn’t already evidence enough of your state, Hoseok’s willingness to offer more encourages him to run a slow swipe of his delicate hands up your thigh and dangerously close to where you’ve imagined him placing every class that you’ve attended. The touch is prominent enough to have you squirming, letting whiny moans spill into his smirking lips as your legs bring him closer.

But Hoseok’s gentle yet clear tapping of your thighs tells you he has something else in mind. “Stand back up.” The order is clear yet in your current hazy state, you slide off the counter anticipating your weak landing, something Hoseok takes care of by pushing you flush against him.

Following through, he presses his long fingers in the soft flesh of your ass, spreading your cycling shorts covered cheeks all while pushing you closer to his straining cock. Spread out, head shying away from looking at his face, he leans in with a soft whisper, “Now tell me, kitty, how did you get an ass like this?”

Timid hands roam across his hard frame as your intended whisper becomes a rushing gasp, pulled out from you by Hoseok’s prominent kneading of your ass, “You.”

“What did you say, sweetheart?”

Hesitant, and quite frankly too hot to think straight, you let it all spill out.

“It’s because of you. You gave me an ass like this.”

“Huh, you think so?” His stretched palm travels up and down your clothed cheeks. You don’t respond letting the steady stream of strained moans be an answer in itself. “So you’re saying, my classes gave you this juicy ass,” He hisses out, firmly squeezing the jiggly flesh.

You nod your head against his shoulder, humming in agreement, the cadence at which the soft moans escape intensifying. Moans that you attempt disguise by biting into his cycling jersey.

“Don’t you think I should get to enjoy what I created?” The implications of his question makes your breath hitch.

What is he thinking of doing. Anal? Eating your ass? Spanking? Your mind is in haywire but you know what you think.

“You can do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

You nod once again, hardened buds tickling his covered chest. All Hoseok does is smirk at your eagerness.

“Not today, kitty,” he pushes lightly against your breasts, making your shiver at the friction, turning you around with a swift hand as he shakes his head, “I like it from the back.”

You’re now facing the mirror, able to notice the distraught state of your body as your desperation creeps further into your limbs. Hoseok finds himself caging you in again, but while you could have hid your warming face in his chest before, now you’re completely exposed.It’s something that brings a playful expression to his features.

As if he wasn’t already close enough to you, Hoseok drives his eager hips into the heated plumpness of your butt and your fingers tense further around the edge of the countertop. Every hitching breath of yours is complemented with his groans.

“What a beautiful ass I’ve made,” he says, pride in his voice as he crouches down behind you to give each cheek its own shameless squeeze. “Don’t you agree?”

“Hmm,” you hum breathlessly before a pointed strike to your cheek makes it clear that that’s not how he wants you to respond. Nodding, head straining backwards to catch Hoseok’s dark gaze, your knees buckle driving your ass closer to his face while you whine out a stuttering yes.

Hoseok’s your trainer. He knows how breathing works during physical activities and makes it known that, whether or not you’re in class, he rules still apply. It’s soft, yet commanding whispers to not forget to breathe or he will stop, tingling confessions that let his appetite for your body infest your nerves as you delve deeper into despair. You want his cock inside of you and, unlike your willingness to wait, his patience is much greater.  

The continuous sway of hips quickens his breaths, and they land on your shoulder where they leave shivers that travel down your spine forcing you to shimmy your ass into his crotch even harder. “Come on, kitty, patience.” He breathes out, biting your scalding shoulder.

“Nghh, but plea—,” the hard slap that lands on your misbehaving cheeks has you stiffening, hands slipping against the glass. At this point you’re sure you’re not going to sit down on your train ride back home. Hoseok seems to want to leave you sore and marked.

“I said patience. I will give you what you need when I want to.” You nod lazily, not that your mind registers the sentence, but the alarming tone has you on your best behaviour.

Your compliant action earns you a few sloppy kisses along your covered shoulders, his hands snaking upwards to catch the zipper and let it slide down as you bend, body yearning for his touch until his determined hands engulf your freed and neglected mounds.

“Hmmm, just as soft and juicy as your ass.” He moans loud and clear and you fear someone outside might hear. Yet it still makes you melt onto his hard body. “Hose—yes, like that, ahhhh.”

Hoseok, given his position, does like orders, something he lets you know by running his fingers around your perked buds and squeezing them so hard you screech and bend even deeper. Fuck. As much as it hurts it also feels so good; your watering folds are proof enough.

“I don’t like to repeat myself, Y/N. Misbehave and I’ll keep drawing this out, leaving you wet and begging for me.” His tone is calculated and laced with a certain layer of pity that has you whining as you place one hand on his forearms to turn around and meet his eyes.

You witness the slowed blinking of his eyelids and hope that he can decipher your distressed eyes that ask for more. While Hoseok cares for his trainees, he likes to push them to see how far they can go. That’s what the smirk creeping up on his lips tells you.

“All in due time, kitty. First, let me taste something that I want to make mine.” One confident hand pats your dripping pussy to further awaken your sensitive nerve endings. Your thighs instinctively snap shut capturing his hand. Hoseok catches your eyes in the mirror, shaking his head before delivering another strike to your ass.

“Ahhh, shit,” you bite your quivering lips and let your hesitant thighs part to welcome the sweet slide of Hoseok’s fingers past your clothed folds as he hums in approval at the present wetness. “Just how I like it.” The praise compels a soft smile on your end.

You can’t hide the confusion that coats your features when he suddenly extracts his hand, something that has him snickering to himself. He enjoys torturing you and you want to complain but you don’t think your ass could handle anymore pain so you suck up your remarks along with some air.

Your head dances around, left to right and back again trying to figure out what exactly he plans to do as he crouches back down to face your butt. Before you can enquire in order to save yourself from any surprise attacks, he dives his head into the expanse of your globes shaking it as you squeal trying your best not to lose your stance.

He hums deeply, breathing in your scent and you whimper once his wet tongue pokes out to slide along your pussy lips, his saliva mixing in with your oozing arousal. His arms snake around your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh to push you further against his face. “Fuck, your kitty is dripping for me.” You manage to hear the muffled sound above the blend of his groans and your stumbling moans. But for once Hoseok doesn’t abide by his own rules as his hands rush to the hem of your cycling shorts, wanting nothing more than to rip them apart, to have you bare as to allow him to witness your clenching pussy– soon to be his pussy.

Exposed and wet, ready for him since the day you laid eyes on him, you stare down at his soft brown locks, where your hands will find refuge in shortly, and try your best to examine his eager expression through hooded eyes. He has your right leg up on his shoulder and you let the rhythm of his stroking hand guide your breaths. “So fucking pretty,” his other hand travels up your other thigh, “and wet,” he bites his lips leaning into your drenched center, “and mine.”

It’s only one lick but you already feel like falling apart, hands squeaking against the mirror. “Ahhh shit,” your hips move on their own accord, meeting his hot appendage and coating it with your increasing neediness. Either Hoseok doesn’t mind or your eagerness, looking to satisfy your own urge, doesn’t register in his mind as all that’s there is the goal to have you trembling and gushing all over his hungry mouth.

For each lap at your folds, he takes a breath away. Your fingers find the courage to place themselves on his head, soft hair left to be scrunched in your clenched fist. His head moves vigorously up and down, drinking up your juices under feverish groans and needy hands that latch on the cheeks of your ass to keep you from staggering away.

His tongue drives your pants, saturating your cunt with pointed licks coupled with soft nibbles at your throbbing clit, an action that has you quivering in surprise. “So fucking sweet,” he drags out the suckling of your vulva as he hums, satisfaction clear on his face as his tongue slides across his bottom lips. You mewl, hips bucking into the empty air. He plants a soft kiss on your heat, “Just for me. How cute.”

“Hoseok, please,” your strained plea runs from your lips without much thought to meet his mocking pout. You’re so close, you just need him to keep lapping at your soaked entrance, feasting on your juices and you would come undone before you know it.

However Hoseok seems to have other plans in mind as he stands back up, the straining in his pants all the more noticeable in his tight shorts. He leans in to kiss your neck, holding your behind flush against his cock. “Unfortunately, I can’t eat you out until you fall apart. We wouldn’t want anyone to come open the door, now would we?”

Your want has made you forget your predicament. You’re in the bathroom of your gym, ready to have the trainer you’ve been daydreaming about rail your neediness away. He made sure to lock the door but someone could soon start asking questions, looking for staff to complain to. Staff who would surely hurry to unlock the door, after all client satisfaction is important. Something that Hoseok is very aware of.

You shake your head as his husk approval meets your slick ear, “Good kitty.” He bites the shell of your ear, scraping against the heating flesh, “Now spread your legs for me.” You shuffle your feet side to side following his orders, legs too heavy to lift. “You’re doing so good for me,” he says, hoping to reassure you as his hands leave your body and you watch him, in the mirror, slide his pants down to expose his erect and flushed cock.

You almost turn around on instinct, one based on your countless dreams of having him in your mouth, weighing down your tongue. But you stay put, resorting to ogling his long and pretty dick. Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind as his hand goes to stroke lazily at the throbbing length while continuing to keep his distance from you.

His eyes lock with yours and you whimper because you know exactly what you could do to that dick of his if he’d just let you. However, he’s adamant on having his way with you. Maybe another time? Maybe. You close your eyes to let the sour thought of this being a one time occasion wash away and let Hoseok’s touch bring you back to the moment at hand.

His hand digs into the flesh of your hips and your needy heat clenches around empty air at the sweet and slow slide of the fleshy and precum glazed tip of his cock. Hoseok’s likes to drink up your reactions, staring into the mirror to admire your furrowed brows, your open mouth and your squeezed eyelids as he continues to run his pulsating member up and down your slit. He slips up, his enthusiasm getting the best of him as the tip grazes your clit and you bite into your clenched fist, your moan still managing to seep through.

Hoseok’s chest leans into your back as he places one of his hands above yours. He orders your gaze to meet his, the other hand hiding between your bodies to position himself at your entrance.

“This is gonna be just like our sprints in class. Are you ready, kitty?”

You munch on your wet lip, and repeat, through your panting mess, the only the only two words that seem to be in your mind, “Hoseok plea—ahhh”

His hard cock eases into your needy walls, slowly filling you up as his other hand moves back to restrain your only free hand. Chest against back, hands weighing on yours, and forehead bent down against your shoulder, he bottoms out and you release a combined sigh. You shut eyes spring open to stare at the delightful connection between your edged bodies. You can’t comprehend the situation, nor do you try to. This is really happening, huh?

It feels too good. Too good to be true and too good for your practically spasming pussy. Hoseok’s calm approach is short-lived, his second thrust as frantic as your breaths. The force at which he moves inside your slick walls, force strong enough to have the edge of the sink countertop dig against your stomach.

Your hand reaches back to hold onto his shoulder, trying your best to stay stable as each continuous attack of his hips sounds against your tender ass. Hoseok drags his dick out, making you moan and pant so much you’re clouding the mirror. He eagerly snaps back against your straining tightness, bottoming out as he puffs out laboured breaths and you gasp into your trembling shoulder. “Yes, yes, right there,” you sigh in between ragged breaths

He delivers another pointed thrust, pumping himself deeper into your warmth, “Here?” He breathes out and you nod hastily.

You can feel the short yet intense slap of his balls against your ass, the thrill of it all making you bend to spread your legs even further apart. Your face only centimeters away from the cold, metal tap, you shriek feeling the weight of Hoseok’s imprints on the small of your back as he pounds your sopping pussy. “Shit, all of this for me?” He pants, delivering his beloved strikes on the ass he’s made.

With your current limited vocabulary all you can do is nod, head bracing itself in the crook of your arm. Chasing your own pleasure, all while melting on the wonder that’s Hoseok’s cock, you move your hips to meet the now frantic pummelling of his straining dick.

One of his hands migrates to surround the soft and tender flesh of your neck as he pulls you up to reveal your fucked out gaze. “So fucking pretty.” He suckles the skin of your neck, biting into it to suppress his own moans. You wrap your hand around his forearm, chanting your go-to high-pitched request once again, this time managing to add one more word, “Hoseok, please, harder.”

Your heart is about to leap out of your chest at sight of the soft gaze he throws under heavy eyelids. “Anything for you, kitty.” And he gives you just that. He pumps in and out, hard, hand still around your neck, more so as a sweet gesture to help your head stay put as he admires his work. His other arm pushing you flush against his body, mushing your ass cheeks against his crotch. A feeling he welcomes with a low hiss.

Hoseok’s dick pulsates against your walls, as they suck him deeper, his length allowing him to graze spots in you nobody has touched before. The quick and pointed hammering makes your breath stutter. You’re so close, you think, but fail to communicate, mouth unable to form any coherent sounds apart from heavy moans and whines.

You spare a glance in Hoseok’s direction, to see his head nested in the crook of your neck, eyes shut and his cheeks puff out for every passionate thrust he delivers. Warmth, not the kind that comes from your current vigorous activity, but the one that’s born out of hope for more, overtakes you only this time you have no wish to dispel it.

Your free hand meets your sensitive bud, rubbing circles as his cock continues to make a mess of you. He must have felt the soft graze of your fingertips against his hot girth as his hands move to meet yours. He slides his fingers past your slick coating fingers that are soon placed back on your clit. Digits dancing around each other, your chest stutters into the bliss, back morphing into the bend of his chest. “Oh,Hos– ahhh, I’m clo–se.”

Hoseok finds the sounds that leave you endearing, a smile stretching along his lips. “Go on kitty, let my pussy cum all over me.” You shut your eyes, lips pressed against each other, glutes clenched to Hoseok’s striking approval, letting your pent up and often castoff desire for a certain man with a blinding smile, and inspiring ethic rush over your limbs, choked moans leaving your once sealed lips.

He thrusts on every breath intake, adamant on literally taking your breath away as his own unraveling follows shortly. Even in this state of frenzy, he manages, ever the professional and hard worker, to land his last thrusts just where he wants them. Deep within you, before he snatches his hypnotising member away from your ever yearning heat to decorate your back with a fat load, as he grunts out, “Ugh, hmph–mine.”

Strikes of white cum hit you as you sigh, trying your best to regulate your breathing all while hitting your face to convince yourself of the reality of the situation. You just fucked your trainer. The one you’ve been fantasising about for the past three months. You try to find some sort of guilt, looking to appease your mind and assure yourself that nothing bad will come out of this.

You’ll still be able to attend your lessons each week, sitting down at your same spot, staring ahead at him indifferently as he manages to not even break a sweat during his excruciating classes. You tell yourself that you’re sure everything will go back to normal once the two of you step outside the sex stenched toilet room. Everything will be just fine. You almost believe it, until you’re brought back to the present moment, as he swipes a cool water drenched paper towel against your ruined slit. Yeah, this is bad.

Mixing fantasies, longing stares and care can only lead to one possible thing. A bus you doubt he would jump on if it were to show up at his door steps. You scramble to retrieve the towel and proceed to clean yourself. Hoseok jumps at your less than gentle action, but decides not to give it much thought, unlike you.

“Thanks,” you attempt to lessen your rude behaviour. He gives you a lopsided smile, winking away your weakly established reassurance that you’ll manage not to think about this encounter from a point of view that’s filled with craving feelings and expectations.

“That was nice.”

You fail to suppress the laughter that’s screaming to be released, to see him flustered has you smiling, nodding reassuringly at his statement.

“Very nice, indeed,” you respond, throwing away the towel as you join Hoseok in putting your cycling shorts back on and closing the zipper of your cycling jersey.

Your eyes travel across the room to make sure that nothing is terribly out of place or different before your hands stroke down your front while you stare at the now silent man. You wait, expecting him to say something, wanting him to. When he doesn’t seem to have it in his plans to speak again, you turn around to walk towards the key he left in the lockset of the door.

A loud cough sounds behind you and you snap around, eyes eagerly staring at him to notice the full blown smile on his glowing face, making your heart skip.

His fingers gestures towards his back and once he notices your confused expression, he articulates his concern with a small laugh and scratch to his neck, “Uhm, you kinda forgot the back, my…. yeah, is still there”

“Oh,” you turn around to look at your back through the mirror. The sight alone of his cum has your mouth watering and legs clenching, something that doesn’t go unnoticed to Hoseok’s focused eyes. Just the reassurance he needed to feel like you weren’t completely regretting what just happened. “Right.” You sidestep him to reach for some more paper towels, hands trying their best to clean it up only to end up smearing it even more.

Hoseok’s hand reaches out. “May I?” Sighing you nod, discarding the ruined towels in the bin.

On second thought, you should have said no and struggled through the clean up on your own. The soft press of his digits against your back ignites your skin and pulls you back to the not so distant events in your mind. Your sharp breath intakes at each touch from his body further aids Hoseok in building back his confidence.

You definitely liked him, or at least your body did. He thinks and he would definitely not mind a repeat, preferably somewhere where he did not need to worry about time or intruders and where he could knead your ass to his heart’s content.

Once done, you step away, this time thoroughly cleaned and ready to leave. You turn back to follow your previous path, hand clenched around the key refusing to unlock the door as you await another interjection from his part. To unlock the door means this is finally over and as much as you might not believe this to be your best decision, you still want to bask in the awkward sweetness of the aftermath, just for a few more seconds. But Hoseok stays silent this time.

Your hand weights down on the handle, pushing it towards you. Sighing, you are brought back to reality as you stare at the bypassers outside of the toilet room. Your hand releases the handle, walking out and heading towards the changing rooms.

Your steps are slow, ready to halt upon his request. Yet, all your ears can hear is the shuffling of hurried feet and the sound of other classes taking place. Soon enough, you’re walking slow out of dejection rather than apprehension.

“Hey! Y/N!” Your skin shivers at the timbre of the familiar voice and you walk faster to stop a bit further away. You don’t want him to think that you were waiting for him.

Your body whips around, using the little resolve you have left to mask your delight at the sight of him.

“I’ll see you next week,” it comes out as a blend between a question and an affirmation and you can see in his eyes that he needs you to clarify the nature of his statement for him. To let him know there could in fact be more than today.

“I’ll see you next week, Hoseok.” You smile sheepishly as you turn around to scurry towards your intended destination, squealing into the palms of your hands. Hands that had touched him and had been caressed by him. Ultimately, hands that couldn’t wait to knead him the way he kneaded you.

Posted: July 16 2020

‘Nope, and I already told you why; I don’t want to see him, not after what happened,’ she says, and I roll my eyes as I order an Uber. ‘So you’re really gonna make me go by myself? What if I get drugged, or beaten up, or raped, or murdered, or-’ ‘y/n!’ she exclaims reproachfully, and I shrug, ‘it could happen.’ ‘Well, it won’t. Loads of our friends are there. Wendy and Irene and Seulgi, Yeri and Joy, loads of people,’ she lists off. ‘Yeah, and they’ll be there, too,’ I sigh. ‘Well, I mean, it is at their house,’ she says, holding back a laugh, and I stick my tongue out at her.

‘You know what I mean. I hate them – jocks are so unbearable. It’d be better if you were there,’ I say, pouting. ‘You’re a liar, you don’t hate them. Just him,’ she points out. ‘Well, what if he tries something? He’s so strong, he could literally lift a car if he wanted to-’ ‘Bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?’ she says, and I roll my eyes again. ‘You know what I mean. The point still stands that he’s strong – you’re the one that saw him at the gym lifting more than your body weight. And remember when he knocked one of the players on their opposing team to the floor in that match last year, and he was literally twice his size. If that guy couldn’t take him on, how can I?’ ‘And you think I can? I’m smaller than you, you idiot.’ ‘But you’re scary.’ ‘You’re scarier than me,’ she says mildly, and I sigh. ‘Please, Jen. It’s not even that big of a deal, what happened. If anything, it’s more embarrassing for him than for you,’ I say, trying so hard to persuade her. ‘It is a big deal. It only happened yesterday – I at least need to give it a couple days before I can face him again.’ ‘Fine, I’ll go by myself. If I’m not home in the morning, it’s on your head,’ I say dramatically, pulling on my heels.

‘Don’t be like that,’ she reprimands before launching into a speech, ‘you look absolutely gorgeous and the boys will be all over you, so don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and if you do, please use a condom. I don’t need you bringing an STD back with you. If there’s an emergency, or you need me to pick you up, call me. Make sure you keep me updated on what’s going on. Don’t drink anything anyone gives you – pour your own drinks. Make sure you’re always with one of the girls.’ ‘Okay, okay! I’ll see you later, mum!’ I exclaim, and she laughs, pulling me into a hug. ‘Be careful, y/n,’ she says gently, and I nod. ‘When am I not, Jen?’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. I leave our dorm and head down the corridor, opting to take the lift instead of the stairs – these heels aren’t that high, but I don’t want to take any risks.

My Uber’s already there by the time I get outside, so I jump straight in. The journey there is short (not short enough to walk in heels, though) and within five minutes, we’re pulling up in front of the house. I climb out, the driver instantly zooming away, and I look up at the house in front of me. It’s much bigger than and further away from the rest of the houses on the street, and it has its own little pier out onto the university lake, perfect for drunken skinny-dippers at the end of the night. I head up to the porch, the Greek letters for Alpha Sigma Phi hanging above my head, and push through the slightly open door. The party is already in full swing, loud bass-heavy RnB pulsing through the house, people already drunk and dancing, the smell of drugs thick in the air. I push through the throng of my classmates into the kitchen where I know my friends will be. The lowered volume in the kitchen is brief; only the moment before my friends notice me is quiet. ‘y/n!’ they all shout, and I jump in surprise. ‘y/n, you made it!’ Wendy shrieks, throwing her arms around me. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it,’ I say, hugging her back. ‘y/n, you look good!’ Yeri exclaims, holding me out for her to admire. ‘Thank you, Yeri, but look at you! Absolutely gorg!’ I don’t get to hear her reply before the rest of my friends greet me, all of them dressed up and drinking. ‘Let me get you a drink. What do you want?’ Irene asks me, and I scrunch up my face in thought. ‘I’ll just have Diet Coke for now – I don’t want any alcohol,’ I say, and I feel a hand appear on my waist. ‘Lightweight,’ I hear his teasing voice, and I can’t stop the big sigh I let out, accompanied by my signature eye roll.

‘Where are your pom-poms today?’ he asks, and I turn to look at him, the smell of vodka strong on him. ‘I was wondering how long I’d have without you bothering me,’ I say, fixing him with a dirty look. I’ve always thought of him as tiny, but he really isn’t – I have to tilt my head back slightly to look at his annoying face because of how close to me he is (he most definitely has lifts in his shoes). And it’s not just his face, that’s annoying, let me tell you that. It’s everything about him. And shall I tell you why? Because it’s all perfect. Everything about him, physically, is infuriatingly perfect. His legs are long and toned, his waist cinched and his frame slim, with vascular hands adorned in silver rings, matching with the silver earrings hanging from his ears and the silver Chanel necklace around his neck (how he can afford Chanel jewellery whilst at university, I don’t know). His lips are plump and glossy, like a Bratz doll, and his eyes are a deep chocolaty brown, framed with dark lashes. His jaw is sharp, his cheeks chubby, and his black hair is soft and fluffy, swept back to reveal the tan skin of his forehead and dark, bold eyebrows. Long story short, he’s beautiful, on the outside. The inside is a whole other story.

‘Bothering you? More like gracing you with my presence. Remember, this is my party, and there are plenty of other, more… willing girls I could be spending my time with, but I chose you. You should be honoured,’ he says with a grin, and I scowl at him. ‘Honoured?’ I echo as Irene hands me a red solo cup with the Coke in it, ‘it’s not your party. It’s Alpha Sigma Phi’s party.’ ‘And what does everyone think of when they think of ASP? This handsome face and the perfect dick that comes with it,’ he says, preening, and I roll my eyes again. ‘Can you not be so annoying and full of yourself all the time?’ ‘I can be whatever you want me to be, babe,’ he says lowly, thumb swiping across his plump lips, and I blink, heart jumping which pisses me off – my own body betrays me when I’m with him. ‘Well, whatever. I don’t think of you when I think of ASP. I think of a bunch of douches,’ I shrug, changing the subject back, and he grins even wider, obviously amused that he managed to make me flustered. ‘Now, now. Is that any way to speak about your friends? I’m sure the other boys would be offended to hear you speak about them like that,’ he says, plucking the cup from my hand and taking a sip. ‘Well, let me correct myself. You’re the douche,’ I say tiredly, and he grins. ‘You won’t be saying that for long. You’ll be eating your words when you feel how good my cock is,’ he forebodes, handing me back my cup, completely empty. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to feel anything,’ I mutter, throwing away the cup, and he chuckles. ‘Oh, y/n, you do amuse me,’ he grins. ‘Oh, Park, the feeling is most definitely not mutual,’ I say in a bright tone, a fake smile plastered on my face. ‘Good talk, y/n, I’ll see you later,’ he says distractedly as he moves away from me, watching a sophomore that’s just walked in with her friends, wearing a skimpy dress. She’s pretty and looks nice, but I can’t help but dislike her instantly, surprised at myself for being so bitchy.

‘Who are you shooting lasers at?’ Joy asks. ‘Park Jimin,’ I spit out, turning my dirty looks to him instead. Or rather, his back, as he’s now facing away from me, speaking to the sophomore. ‘Cradle robber,’ Joy observes, and I laugh. ‘I wouldn’t quite say cradle robber – we’re only a year older than her,’ I point out, and Joy waves my words away. ‘Still. Anyway, are you drinking?’ she asks. ‘Well, I did have a drink, but he took it and downed it,’ I say, motioning to Jimin who’s now got a hand on the girl’s arm. She looks up at him with a sweet smile, her eyes wide and big, and I almost want to go over and warn her away, knowing he’s just looking for someone to fill his bed for the night. ‘Well, Seulgi brought Malibu, and I know you like it, so here,’ she says, pushing an unopened bottle into my hand and disappearing back into the throng of people. ‘Thanks,’ I say to the spot where she was just stood, plucking a clean cup from the packet, pouring out some of the rum and mixing it with coke (an unopened bottle – I’m no rookie). I also find some straws and pick out a pink one, dropping it into the cup. Just as I begin to take a sip, a pair of big hands clap down onto my shoulders, making me jump and I choke on my drink.

‘Oh, shit, sorry. You okay, y/n?’ I hear Namjoon’s voice as I cough again and again. ‘Do I look okay?’ I ask once I’ve stopped choking, my eyes beginning to water and my face warm. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to,’ he says reproachfully, holding back laughter. ‘Idiot,’ I mutter, taking a seat on one of the stools around the kitchen island (these trashy dirty frat boys don’t deserve such a nice house). ‘Sorry. Anyways, how are you?’ ‘I was fine before you tried to kill me. What about you?’ ‘Um, good, yeah. I saw you speaking to Jimin,’ he says, triggering an eye roll. ‘He’s such a pain in the ass. I’m gonna file a restraining order.’ ‘Go for it, I’ll file one too. So, you, um… did you come by yourself?’ he asks, rubbing at the back of his neck, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Don’t be a pussy – say it with your chest,’ I say in a bored tone, and he sighs. ‘Did Jennie come with you?’ he asks quietly. ‘No, she wasn’t feeling too well, so she stayed back at our apartment,’ I grin, and he puts a hand to his forehead. ‘She’s avoiding me, isn’t she? Urgh, I’m such an idiot.’ ‘I can’t argue with you there,’ I reply, and he scowls at me. ‘Sorry. But, it’s true, you are an idiot. I mean, what on earth were you thinking?’ I say, failing to hold back my laughter. ‘I didn’t know that she would be out there. If I’d known…’ he trails off. ‘You wouldn’t have run across the pitch butt naked?’ I ask, and he slaps a hand over my mouth, looking around to see if anyone heard. ‘Keep your voice down! I don’t want people knowing. I lost a bet, and I did it at night-time so no one would see. How was I supposed to know she’d be out there?’ he says defensively, and I shake my head at him in disgust. ‘You’re a mess. And, anyway, yes, of course she’s avoiding you. How can she look you in the face again properly having seen you completely naked?’ I say, struggling to hold back laughter as I think back to Jennie’s face when she walked into our apartment after going somewhere quiet to speak on the phone to her sister, Rose – there was a party going on in the apartment next door, so she went on a walk, conveniently running into (a naked) Namjoon. ‘Oh, go suck Jimin’s dick,’ he says half-heartedly. ‘Go flash Jennie again,’ I retort, and he flips me off before disappearing.

I stay in the kitchen the majority of the night, catching up with all my friends. It’s been a while since I had a chance to socialise; settling back into the Uni schedule after a long summer is tough, especially when you have an entire cheer team to lead. And cheering isn’t easy! People think we just run around in skimpy outfits, chanting and waving pom-poms, but there is so much more to it than that – I’d go as far to say that cheer is one of the hardest sports you can do. I spend so much of my time choreographing and working out to keep fit and planning routines and deciding positions for the team. It requires a lot of dedication and time to get everything done before the season starts. But obviously, a lot of my peers don’t have to dedicate their time to things like that and are used to partying, opting to get black out drunk at these frat parties instead of socialising with their friends. Only three hours after my arrival, there are people passed out all over the place, bedrooms occupied, and drunken students dirty dancing in the living room. Sat in the same stool as three hours ago, I watch Yeri flirt with a senior, feeling proud of my girl. She catches me watching and I put my thumbs up to her, giving her a big encouraging smile, and she quickly looks away for fear of laughing out loud.

‘Ah, y/n. Alone?’ I hear Jimin’s voice from behind me before he takes the seat beside me. ‘Yes, and I was enjoying it,’ I say pointedly, despite knowing he won’t go. ‘How have you been? Still dancing away?’ he asks with a grin, and I roll my eyes. ‘Cheer isn’t the same as dance.’ ‘I’ve seen you on the side-lines while we’re playing – sure looks like dance to me.’ ‘And anyway, why do you have to say it like that? I’m not a stripper,’ I say exasperatedly, completely ignoring his stupid interjection. ‘What’s wrong with being a stripper?’ ‘Nothing, I consider it at least nine times a day.’ ‘Let me know if you decide to pursue that as your career – I’d be more than happy to support you. Maybe even join you if football doesn’t work out for me.’ ‘Oh, I don’t doubt you’d support me, you pervert.’ ‘Now, you know that’s not true. I only flirt with girls that want me back. If they don’t, I leave them alone.’ ‘So why don’t you leave me alone?’ ‘Because it’s clear to me that you enjoy my flirting. You might act like you don’t, but not once have you ever explicitly told me to stop, or to go away,’ he says, and I struggle for a comeback, knowing it’s true. He might be a total dick and I might hate him, but the flirting and the attention, it makes me feel good. It’s a nice feeling, knowing that a boy who could have anyone… wants me. ‘See?’ he points out with a smirk, and I roll my eyes as he takes a sip of the vodka in his hand. ‘You need to deflate your ego a little.’ ‘You need to pull that stick out your arse.’ ‘It’s stuck up there, with your head.’ ‘Touché,’ he laughs, and I shake my head.

‘So, as I was asking before we got side-tracked, how have you been? How are you finding junior year?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Why do you care, Park?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘Why wouldn’t I care?’ ‘Because we don’t like each other.’ ‘I like you,’ he smirks, head resting on his hand, arm leaning on the countertop. ‘No, you don’t, and I sure as hell don’t like you.’ ‘Why do you keep lying to me, and to yourself, y/n?’ ‘I’m not lying. Just because you’re attracted to someone, it doesn’t mean you like them,’ I say, regretting the words as soon as I see the mischievous light in his eyes. ‘You’re attracted to me?’ ‘That’s not what I said.’ ‘It pretty much is, y/n. But it’s okay, I knew that already. It’s just nice to hear it out loud. Well, I hope that’s what you were referring to, and not to me being attracted to you, because that certainly isn’t true,’ he says, my body going cold at hearing his words as my jaw drops. I turn to look at him, a shit-eating grin on his face, and I want to slap it off.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,’ I say, and he just gives me an infuriating grin. Now, let me make something clear. Park Jimin isn’t that bad. Annoying, flirty, egotistic? Yes, exactly, and everyone loves him for being the star player on the team, which makes it worse. But I can deal with him. He’s not really… the bane of my existence, or anything like that. But he is the most irritating person I’ve ever met. He’s like a chipped nail on a fresh set, or a bird chirping outside your window at 4am when you have an exam. But this? This is on another level. How, how on earth, has he managed to turn the tables onto me like this? ‘What d’you mean?’ ‘What do I me- I mean that you flirt with me every opportunity you get!’ I say, voice getting a little louder with annoyance, and he raises an eyebrow, still looking annoyingly laidback, his smirk and my anger growing at the same rate. ‘So what?’ ‘So… if you’re flirting with me that often, you’re attracted to me. You’ve made it clear you’re attracted to me,’ I say slowly, starting to wonder if I’m missing something, and his grin grows impossibly wider. ‘Just a bit of fun, isn’t it? Doesn’t mean anything,’ he says with a little shrug, and I try to hide the way his words hurt.

‘Fine. Go have a bit of fun with someone else, then,’ I say savagely, facing away from him and crossing my arms over my chest, and yet, he seems nothing but amused. ‘Don’t be like that, babe,’ he says easily, reaching for me, and I slap his hands away, ignoring the pet name. ‘No, leave me alone,’ I say sulkily, and he raises an eyebrow at me as he rests a hand on my thigh, lips twitching when I don’t brush it off. ‘Come on, baby, I was just kidding,’ he smiles serenely, and I turn a scowl to him. ‘Well, I didn’t find it funny, so go find some other girls who will,’ I spit at him, and he’s holding back a laugh, which infuriates me even more. ‘But those girls are boring. You aren’t. So stop being bratty,’ he says, and my mouth falls open slightly, my eyes fixed on his stupidly handsome face. ‘Bratty? I’m being bratty?’ I demand, and he nods, lips slightly quirked up at the ends with amusement. ‘Yes, angel, you are.’ ‘Well… you’re being a dick.’ ‘Real mature,’ he says with a roll of his eyes, and I scowl. ‘Says you, you fucking manchild.’ ‘Wow, you really are a brat. I’ve apologised, like, twice. Get over it and stop being so stubborn.’ ‘I’m not being stubborn! ‘You are.’ ‘Am not.’ ‘Are too.’

‘Wow, you two are children,’ Jungkook’s voice comes from beside us, and we both turn to look at him. ‘How long have you been there?’ Jimin asks moodily, and Jungkook grins, dropping me a wink. ‘Long enough to see that you two need to stop fucking around and… fuck,’ Jungkook says, and I scrunch up my nose in disgust, leaning away from Jimin. ‘Don’t ever say that again. I hate him,’ I spit out, putting emphasis on the word so he understands that I truly mean it, and he rolls his eyes again, taking a sip of his drink. ‘You don’t have to love each other. Hell, you don’t even have to like each other,’ Jin’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn to him with a hard stare. ‘Seriously? Who fucks someone they don’t like?’ I say, both Jungkook and Jin laughing. ‘Lots of people, actually. Honestly, y/n, I promise you, it’s better when you don’t like each other. No strings attached, no obligations afterwards, and you don’t have to think about whether it feels good for them,’ Jungkook explains, and now my entire face is scrunched up in disgust. ‘That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard anyone say. You men are disgusting,’ I say, giving Jimin a pointed look, and he gasps. ‘Don’t look at me! I’ve never done that!’ Jimin exclaims defensively, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, right.’ ‘He’s telling the truth,’ Jin says, and I turn my raised eyebrows to him. ‘Sure.’ ‘No, seriously, he never has. Everyone Jimin fucks adores him, so he’s never known the joy that is hate sex,’ Jungkook says, he and Jin laughing as I give them a disgusted look, Jimin suspiciously silent. ‘Jin, Jungkook, Jimin, come dance with us,’ a high-pitched female voice calls from the living room, all four of us looking to see a group of skimpily dressed freshmen beckoning the boys over. Jin and Jungkook waste no time, practically leaving us in their dust as they rush to join the girls.

I look to Jimin, who hasn’t moved a muscle, still with a stormy expression on his face. ‘Well? Go dance with them,’ I prompt, and his features smooth out before a small smirk curls his lips up. ‘I’d rather stay here, babe, with you,’ he says, and I grit my teeth, trying not to swing for him. ‘You didn’t hesitate to leave me earlier for that sophomore,’ I say despite myself, knowing I sound petty, and he chuckles. ‘Jealous, baby?’ he asks, and I let out a sigh, having had enough. ‘If you’re not going to go, I’ll go,’ I sigh tiredly, getting up from my stool, and heading towards the living room. He grabs my hand as I pass him, turning me around to face him, and I want to pull my hand out of his grasp, but the second I turn to see those big brown eyes on me, I freeze. And I hate it. How can he be such a dick to me all the time, so flirty but then so cold, and I forgive him every time because he’s handsome? How? ‘What do you want me to say, y/n? That you’re prettier, way prettier than the sophomore girl, and those drunk freshmen dancing in the living room? That you’re prettier than every girl in this damn house? Is that what you want?’ he asks, actually sounding sincere for once, and my heart jumps at the compliment. I hate it. I hate him.

‘No. I want you to leave me alone,’ I spit, wrenching my arm from his grasp, and he lets out an amused chuckle. ‘Good, because I hate lying,’ he says with an easy grin, and that little voice in my mind just says, ‘oh’ as I stop still. ‘You know what? Fuck you,’ I whisper, feeling tears in my eyes as I turn away from him, ready to go home. ‘You should be more polite, angel,’ he calls after me, and I can’t help myself, turning to look at him. ‘What?’ ‘I said,’ he replies, getting up from his stool before downing his vodka (I hope it’s mixed with something because he doesn’t wince at all), making me wait until he says, ‘you should be more polite. A request like that? You could at least say please.’ My blood boils, anger actually consuming me as all I can see is red, and that stupid fucking smirk on his stupid fucking face. ‘You’re such a fucking dick, Park. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,’ I rage, stepping closer to him, and he just carries on grinning at me. ‘Go on, babe,’ he says when I’m silent for a moment, jutting his chin out to prompt me, and I want to actually slam his head into the wall. ‘Just fuck off. I can’t deal with you right now, go find someone who adores you so you can stick your tiny dick down her throat,’ I spit at him, his face twisting with anger at me using his friends’ words against him (or at calling his dick tiny – I’m not sure which), and I stomp towards the back door.

I push open the door, storming through and narrowly avoiding colliding with a group of boys passing around a joint. ‘Oh, hey, y/n!’ Taehyung exclaims when he sees me, a big grin on his face. ‘Hi, Tae,’ I say quickly before rushing up towards the road, pulling my phone out of my pocket to order an Uber. ‘You’re leaving?’ I hear Jimin call after me, and I let out a scream of rage, whirling around to face him. ‘How many times do I have to tell you to leave me the fuck alone?’ I shriek, the few people outside watching us with interest, Jimin marching up towards me. ‘No, you don’t get to say your piece and leave,’ he spits out, jaw clenched in anger, and I look skywards, throwing my hands up in despair. ‘Say what you want to say, then. Go on,’ I prompt, voice shaking with anger.

‘You’re such an uptight little bitch, y/n. You fucking mope around in the kitchen at parties, don’t touch the drugs and barely drink, thinking you’re so high and mighty and above the rest of us. You can’t even take a fucking joke and you turn it into something serious by fucking insulting me!’ he shouts, and I’m a little shocked and a lot hurt, the people around letting out little noises of embarrassment on my behalf. ‘Are you kidding me? Just because I don’t turn into a messy fucking disgrace at parties, doesn’t mean I’m uptight!’ I shout back, taking a step towards him, and he lets out a humourless laugh. ‘See? There you go again! It’s called having fun, y/n, you should fucking try it some time!’ ‘I have fun, you dick!’ ‘Yeah, okay, sure you do. You were sat by yourself at a party. Do you know how sad that is? And me, being the nice guy I am, come to sit with you to talk, and you’re just fucking rude to me!’ ‘Nice guy? You have to be joking! You’re not a nice guy, and you never have been! You’re entitled and egotistic and can’t keep your dick in your pants! You can’t take a hint, and even when I tell you explicitly to leave me alone, you don’t!’ I shout, both of us moving closer and closer to one another. ‘I’m trying to be nice, for fuck’s sake! I don’t understand why you tell me to leave you alone!’ ‘I don’t understand why it is so hard for you to accept the fact that I. Don’t. Like. You,’ I say in his face, emphasising every word, hoping he finally gets the message.

‘You fucking liar,’ he says lowly, taking another step closer to me, centimetres apart from me. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘I said that you’re a liar. You do like me,’ he says, eyes dark as he looks at me, and I scoff, trying to ignore how tense I am now that he’s this close to me. ‘I promise you, I really fucking don’t,’ I laugh, our voices much quieter now, everyone around us still watching the exchange, straining to hear our words. They must be confused to see a girl not falling at the feet of great Park Jimin for once. ‘Stop lying, for once, y/n! Discard your pride, for fuck’s sake! You think I’m stupid?’ he asks, getting even closer to me, so close that his chest brushes against mine, my skin igniting at the touch, and I curse my body for betraying me. ‘You think I don’t see you literally fighting the smile off your face when I compliment you? You think I don’t feel the way you shudder when I touch you? You think I don’t notice how you lean towards me when we’re sat together? You think I don’t see the way your breath catches in your throat when I talk about the things I’d do to you? And it’s sexy, it’s really fucking sexy, and it’s so fucking hot when you play hard to get,’ he whispers, his tone harsh but his words making my entire body feel like it’s on fire because, yes, I fucking hate him, but God, he’s hot as hell. And then he makes me want to strangle him by saying, ‘but you ruin it by being so fucking uptight and taking a stupid little joke to heart.’

I let out a disappointed sigh, opening up the Uber app on my phone. ‘y/n. What the fuck are you doing?’ he asks, an edge to his tone, and I ignore him completely. ‘Are you ordering a fucking Uber?’ he demands, sounding incredulous, and I continue to ignore him, knowing it’ll piss him off even more. ‘I’m trying to fucking speak to you and you’re ordering an Uber? Can you stop being so fucking immature and, like… talk to me? Put down your fucking phone, y/n,’ he says slowly, and I can practically sense how he’s trying so hard to keep a hold of his temper – I can see him clenching and unclenching his fists, the vessels in his hands more visible than ever. And then he snatches my phone out of my hands. ‘Wha-’ I start to say, looking up at him, but I’m startled into silence when my eyes meet his. I’m good at riling him up from time to time, but I have never seen him this angry, not even when he’s playing football. His eyes are dark, cheeks flushed with rage, jaw and fists clenched so tight that I’m worried he might shatter a bone, and I actually feel scared. ‘Give me my phone back, Park,’ I say tiredly, and he lets out a mirthless laugh before turning away from me and heading back towards the house, tucking my phone into the back pocket of his tight black jeans.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ I say before following him – I’ve got too much pride to run after him, especially in heels because my clumsy ass will fall over. ‘Park, I swear to God,’ I call after him, the onlookers laughing. I’m glad they find it funny – I’m just tired, fed up and I want nothing more than to go to bed. He disappears into the house, and I speed up a little, knowing if I lose him, it could take ages to find him in that huge ass house, packed full of people. ‘y/n, babe, wait,’ I hear Yoongi say as I pass their group again, feeling him grab onto my hand. ‘Yoongi, not now. He’s got my phone.’ ‘I know. He told us to distract you,’ Yoongi admits, and I let out a noise of frustration as I pull my hand from his grasp, rushing into the house before another of them can grab me, narrowly escaping Tae’s reach. I see him disappearing into the living room, and rush through the kitchen, pushing through the few people stood around the counters, but I freeze when I reach the living room door. A load of ASP boys are lining up coke on the coffee table with their credit cards, Eric Nam who lives in our accommodation block is passed out at my feet, and a group of girls from the sorority up the road are grinding on each other in the middle of the room, Jungkook in the thick of the throng with his hands on Nayeon’s waist. My eyes scan the room, and I spot jet black hair disappearing into the front hall. I seriously consider just leaving my phone and getting Namjoon to call me an Uber, but my passcode is basic as hell (123456) and I don’t need Jimin snooping around my socials. Or worse – my camera roll.

I step over Eric, narrowly avoiding Momo’s hands stretched out to grab me and dance with me, and sidestep the table covered in coke, bursting into the front hallway where Seulgi stands with Kai, one of the spotters on our cheer team. ‘Hey, babe!’ Seulgi exclaims when she sees me, and I grin at her, momentarily distracted from Jimin. ‘Hey, Seulgi. Hi, Kai. Have you guys seen Jimin?’ I ask, both of them looking at me in confusion. ‘Park Jimin?’ Kai asks, and I nod, a little impatient. ‘He just went upstairs. Why?’ Seulgi asks as I begin to run up the stairs. ‘He stole my phone,’ I shout over my shoulder, ignoring Kai’s shout of, ‘Use protection!’ At the top of the stairs, more of my friends are sat in a circle on the landing, handing a bottle of vodka around. ‘Hey, y/n,’ Mina says when she spots me, the others all greeting me too. ‘Hi, guys. You seen Park Jimin?’ I ask, all of them exchanging a glance. ‘You two about to resolve the sexual tension?’ Dahyun asks with a wiggle of her eyebrows, and I roll my eyes. ‘No, he’s got my phone.’ ‘Ooh, worried he’ll find your nudes?’ Jackson asks with a smirk, and I fix him with a hard stare. ‘He’ll never guess the passcode for ‘My Eyes Only’ so I’m not worried,’ I say evenly, and I have to hold back a laugh when the boys all exchange a glance. ‘Anyway, did you see where he went?’ I ask, getting even more impatient now. ‘He went upstairs – his room’s up there. Second door on the left,’ Jeongyeon says, everyone’s eyes turning to her now. ‘How do you know?’ Jinyoung demands, and I take the moment of them being distracted to sprint up the stairs. With every step, I feel the anger inside me grow, all of the times he’s pissed me off over the past couple years building up within me. I hate him, really fucking hate him, and this is just the last fucking straw.

When I reach his room, I don’t even bother knocking, bursting in. And when my brain registers that he’s lying on his bed, with the pretty sophomore from earlier on top of him, all I can see is red, my hands shaking with fury. She looks up at me in surprise, Jimin completely ignoring my presence and continuing to press kisses to her jaw. ‘I swear to fucking God, Park, I’m going to murder you,’ I say slowly, voice wavering with anger, and the girl has enough sense to get off him. ‘I’m really sorry, I didn’t know he was in a relationship,’ she says, sounding truly apologetic, and I feel bad for her. ‘He’s not. You’re welcome to get back to your thing in a minute – I just want my phone,’ I demand, eyes flitting to the bed where he’s leaning back on his elbows, watching our exchange with amusement. None of us say anything for a few moments, the poor girl caught in between mine and Jimin’s feud.

‘I’m being serious, Park. Give me my fucking phone before I cut your dick off,’ I threaten, knowing I’d make good of it too, but he doesn’t move a muscle, just watching me with eyes sparkling with mirth. ‘You know what? I’m gonna leave you guys to resolve whatever the hell this is,’ the girl says, heading to the door. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, truly feeling bad, and she turns back to look at me, stood in the doorway. ‘Don’t be. I think you’ve helped me dodge a bullet. If anything, I’m sorry for you, being involved with him,’ she says quietly, making me laugh, and she laughs too. She really is a nice girl. ‘Thank you. I’ll see you around. I’m y/n, by the way,’ I say, and she nods. ‘I know. I’ve been thinking of trying out for cheer, and everyone I’ve spoken to said to go to you,’ she says, and I let out a little noise of excitement. ‘Oh, my God, you should! You look like you’d be a good flier, and we’re running short of fliers at the moment!’ I exclaim, completely distracted, and she grins. ‘I used to fly at high school, so I’d definitely like to give it a go.’ ‘That’s great. Try-outs are next Saturday, at 12, and I’ll keep an eye out for you. What’s your name?’ ‘Park Jiwon. Do I have to sign up or anything?’ ‘Well, you missed sign-ups, but I’ll put your name down. Just show up,’ I say with a grin, and she smiles back. ‘Thank you, y/n. I’ll see you on Saturday.’ ‘See you, Jiwon,’ I smile, the girl heading towards the stairs with a wave.

When I turn back to look at Jimin, he’s right there in front of me. He pushes the door shut and then slams me up against it, knocking the air out of me before pulling my shoulder bag off my arm and throwing it across the room, the chain strap making a loud clanking noise when it hits the wall. He’s so close that all I can smell is him – the vodka he’s been drinking, his expensive aftershave and… something that’s just him. ‘You’re so fucking hot when you’re jealous, and angry with me. Love getting you all worked up, baby,’ he spits out, voice so low it sounds like a growl, and I’m speechless, literally speechless, his words igniting a fire low in my stomach. ‘You had plenty to say earlier, babe – why so quiet now?’ he asks, eyes dancing with amusement, and I look to the side, unable to hold his heavy gaze. ‘Don’t even think of turning your head away,’ he spits out, my stomach turning when he raises a hand to my chin, moving my head back to face him so my eyes can’t escape his. He holds my head in place, and the feeling of his hand resting loosely around my neck sparks arousal deep within me, my mouth drying. But I have too much pride to submit to him. ‘Give me my phone,’ I demand, and he lets out a chuckle, dark eyes not leaving mine. ‘I don’t know about that, angel. What will you do for me in return?’ he asks, pressing his body against mine so I’m trapped up against the door, and my eyes widen. ‘Nothing. It’s my phone,’ I say slowly, unable to believe how entitled he is. ‘It’s mine now,’ he grins, my mouth falling open. ‘Close your mouth before I spit in it, baby,’ he says, my mouth falling open even more in shock, stomach churning, arousal burning hot in my veins. ‘Don’t tempt me,’ he growls, pushing my mouth closed.

‘Get on your knees for me and I’ll consider giving you your phone back,’ he grins, and I can’t even say anything because he’s holding my mouth closed. ‘Is that a yes?’ he asks teasingly, and I make a noise of frustration, looking down at his hand to try and get him to move it. With a sigh, he removes his hand, and I snap, ‘get your hand off my neck, and give me my fucking phone, Park.’ ‘I always thought you’d be into choking. You seem like a dirty little slut,’ he grins, hand still not moving, my underwear flooding at his words. ‘I swear, Park, I will fucking kill you.’ ‘So you really, truly want me to let go of you? You really want to just get your phone and go?’ he asks, words dripping with amusement, testing me. And I can’t, I just can’t discard my pride – it’s too painful for me to concede to him. ‘Yes,’ I spit out, and his face twists with anger.

‘What is wrong with you, y/n? Why can’t you just fucking let go of your pride for once? I know you want me, I’m not fucking stupid! We’re both attracted to each other so why can’t you just stop fucking around and let me fuck you? I’m not going to do anything without your fucking consent, y/n, I’m not a fucking rapist! Why are you making this so fucking hard for me?’ he demands, rage making his voice shake, and I don’t know what to say. ‘I…’ ‘You what? Go on, fucking speak,’ he prompts, jaw working overtime as he waits for me to answer, hand still resting around my neck, his silver rings cool against my burning hot skin. ‘I do like choking,’ I breathe out, giving the only form of consent to him that my pride will allow, his face blank for a moment. ‘What?’ ‘I said… I do like choking,’ I whisper, his eyes lighting up slightly. I hold a finger up against his lips to stop him explicitly asking, hoping he’ll understand from my gaze. ‘Sure?’ he asks, plump lips moving against my finger, my heart warming at him double checking, and I nod. ‘I’m sure,’ I whisper back, and that’s all he needs to hear.

His hand tightens at my neck as he leans down, lips landing on mine. He kisses me, harshly, forcefully, his tongue sliding into my mouth within moments, turning my mind to slush and emptying my head of any thoughts other than how good he is at kissing. His free hand grips my waist, bruisingly tight, as my hands run through his hair, the soft and fluffy black locks tangling between my fingers, and he tastes like the citrusy vodka he was drinking, with the sweet undertone of my coke (the soft drink – not the drug). ‘On your knees,’ he growls, and I laugh against his lips. ‘No.’ ‘No?’ he asks, sounding amused. ‘No.’ He breaks away from me, looking down at me, heavy breaths escaping through his swollen lips. ‘Wanna say that again, babe?’ he asks, his gaze intimidating, but I don’t let myself break. ‘I said ‘no’. I’m not getting on my knees,’ I say forcefully, matching his serious stare with one of my own, and he lets out a little chuckle. Hand still around my neck, he grabs my arm with his free hand and pushes me towards the middle of the room before letting go of me and sitting at the edge of the bed he was lying on a few minutes ago, another bed on the other side of the room empty. ‘Strip,’ he commands, and I cross my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow. ‘I swear to God, y/n, do not fucking test me. Take off your fucking clothes,’ he spits out, the rage from earlier reappearing, and I decide to follow his instructions, but have a little fun while I do so.

I grin at him before I slide my hands across my torso, slipping my fingers beneath my top and pulling it up over my head, slowly as I possibly can, leaving me in just my black lace bralet (my top was too thin to wear a padded bra). Once it’s off, I throw it to him, and he deflects it with a quick hand, just about stopping it from hitting his face. He sends me a hard glare (though I can see that he’s trying to hold back a laugh behind it) but it disappears the second I flick open the button of my jeans, pulling down the zip too, his gaze darkening. He’s so intimidating that I can’t help but feel self-conscious at undressing in front of him, but then I spot the growing bulge in his jeans, and it makes me feel a little better. I turn away from him, kicking off my heels, pushing my jeans down my legs and bending over to give him a view of my ass, covered by my black lace pants, and I know there’s probably a slightly darker patch between my legs. I straighten up again, stepping out of the denim pooled at my feet, and turn back to face him. He runs a hand through his hair, a smirk on his lips as he beckons me over with the curl of a finger. I step towards him and he reaches out, grabbing me by one wrist and pulling me onto his lap. He tilts his head back to kiss me again, my fingers tangling into his hair and nails scraping against his scalp as he digs his hands into my back, our bodies pressed together almost painfully. He pulls my bottom lip between his teeth before laving his tongue over the sore skin, making me let out a whimper against his mouth.

‘Feels good?’ he asks cockily, and I want nothing more than to take him down a peg, so I ignore him, just continuing to kiss him. ‘I asked you if it felt good,’ he says against my lips, hand reaching behind me to gather up my hair and pull my head back, exposing my neck to him. ‘And I ignored you,’ I reply, voice shaky, as he kisses up and down my neck, pulling the skin beneath my jaw between his teeth, marking me. ‘Petty… stubborn… uptight… bratty… little bitch,’ he says between marking my neck and skin around my collarbones, shaky breaths and little whines falling from between my lips every few seconds at the feeling of his tongue laving over the bruises caused by his perfect teeth and plump lips. ‘I’ll break you, y/n. You’ll be begging for my cock by the time I’m done with you,’ he says, lips curled into a smirk against my skin, and I let out a laugh. I lean down, my lips against his ear, and whisper, ‘less likely than you scoring a goal in the first match of the season. Which we all know is very unlikely.’ He scoffs, lifting me up and putting me down over his lap, my ass sticking up the air.

‘Safe word?’ he growls, sounding almost reluctant, and I feel a thrill at the thought that he’s planning on doing enough to me that I might need a safe word. I think for a moment, and his grip on my thigh tightens before he spits out, ‘hurry up.’ ‘How about… small dick?’ I ask, biting my lip to hold back laughter (I really do find myself funny), but my amusement quickly disappears when his hand delivers a solid slap to my raised ass, making me let out a small squeal of pain, and I look back at him with a glare. ‘Small dick it is,’ he says cheerfully with a grin at me before reaching out to turn my head away from him. ‘You’re being punished, bitch, you don’t get to look at me,’ he spits out before his hand lands down heavily on my ass again, in the exact same spot as the previous slap, making me yelp in pain. I begin squirming in his lap – this spanking is not it, but he holds me firmly in place, landing another slap on the same cheek, and another, and another, and-

‘Park, cut it out!’ I shriek, my ass stinging with pain, and I just know he’s grinning. ‘Safe word?’ he asks, and I bite my tongue, knowing I can’t give in this easy. ‘That’s what I thought,’ he says cheerfully, before wrenching my pants down just past my ass, his hand, spread wide, to land across both cheeks with every slap. I squirm on his lap, still trying to escape, but he’s strong, holding me still and spanking again and again. And then the pain begins to ebb away into pleasure, my yelps of pain becoming desperate whimpers, my pussy practically drenched. With one slap, his skin is inches from the place I need him most, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips. ‘Enjoying being spanked like a dirty little bitch?’ he asks, stopping the tirade of slaps on my ass, but I stay silent, too proud to admit to it. The spanks continue with my silence, my ass burning with the pleasurable pain, and when he’s finally deemed it enough, he rubs a hand over my cheeks, the metal of his rings providing relief for my stinging skin.

‘You okay, y/n?’ he asks, momentarily breaking from his hard demeanour, my heart warming despite myself. ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I reply, sounding breathless to my own ears, and he chuckles. ‘You took your punishment well, for a little brat. What do you want now, babe?’ he asks, and I’m silent, too proud to tell him. ‘Well, you’re obviously deciding to be a stubborn little bitch, so we can sit here like this all night,’ he says, and I look up to see him with his arms crossed over his chest, looking relaxed and smug. I let out an annoyed huff, looking back at the ground, and I wait a few moments to say, ‘touch me.’ ‘What was that, angel?’ he asks, hand beginning to rub over my sore ass again, reliving some of the pain, and I sigh. ‘Touch me.’ ‘I am, baby,’ he replies easily, hand continuing to skim over my stinging skin, and I let out a frustrated whine. ‘You know what I mean, Park!’ I exclaim angrily, and he chuckles. ‘I’m not sure I do, babe. Spell it out for me,’ he prompts, endlessly amused, and I clench my jaw in anger. ‘Can you touch my pussy?’ I snap, and he chuckles, making my blood boil. ‘Can I touch your pussy…?’ he asks, and I let out another angry noise, not wanting to be polite to him at all. But he’s completely silent, waiting for me to speak, and I give in, spitting out the word, ‘please.’ ‘Good girl,’ he compliments, voice soothing, but his hand doesn’t move from my ass. And then he says, ‘but it took too long.’

‘Are you fucking kidding me? If you’re not going to fuck me, Park, I’m leav- oh! Oh, God,’ I moan out, my angry tirade cut off when he pushes two thick fingers deep between my folds, stretching me out almost painfully. My walls clench around him as I whimper, my slick coating his hand. ‘So fucking wet for me, oh, my God. Does being a bitch to me turn you on, angel?’ he asks, but it seems he doesn’t require an answer, pushing one of my legs off his lap to give him better access to my pussy, my foot on the floor to stop me from sliding off him. He begins to thrust his fingers in and out of me, fast, and my head falls down as I let out a loud moan because, God, he’s good, better than I could’ve imagined. ‘So tight,’ he groans, as I throb around his thick fingers, my hips rolling back unconsciously to meet the thrusts of his hand. I can feel my high nearing quickly, the spanking and teasing making me desperate, and his fingers are so fucking good. And then his thumb begins to rub at my clit harshly, forcing a startled moan out of me, and I’m so close, twitching around him as my entire body tenses.

And then he pulls his fingers out. I let out a frustrated whine, eyes prickling with tears as he chuckles, leaning down and holding his slick covered fingers in front of my face. I refuse to take his fingers into my mouth, lips sealed shut, and he sighs, before his other hand lands a harsh slap onto my swollen pussy. I let out a shriek of pain, but he doesn’t relent, landing more heavy slaps onto my sensitive folds, pulling pained moans from my mouth. ‘Stop making this so hard for yourself,’ he says through gritted teeth, and I reluctantly open my mouth, his fingers instantly slipping between my lips, the slaps ceasing as I lick his fingers clean of my arousal. ‘Look at you, being a good little slut for me,’ he says with satisfaction, making my blood boil, and I can’t help but bite down on his fingers, not hard enough for it to hurt, but hard enough for it to shock him. He jumps, making me grin in satisfaction, before ramming his two fingers back between my folds. I let out a loud moan as he pumps in and out of my pussy, the pleasure rolling over me in waves. The rough pads of his fingers brush against my walls, thumb nudging at my clit as I let out moan after moan, feeling my orgasm build back up. I clench around him even tighter, twitching against his fingers, and it’s like he’s already managed to identify when I’m close, pulling his fingers away at the last second.

‘No, please,’ I whine pathetically, bucking my hips up in frustration, and he chuckles. ‘It’s a bit late for ‘please’ now, babe. You can beg better than that,’ he prompts, and I want to cry, so desperate for a release that I give in, swallowing my pride to force out some desperate words that might persuade him. ‘Please, Park, please make me cum. I need it, I need it so fucking bad, need your fingers or your mouth or your cock, anything. I just need to cum,’ I beg, and he’s silent for a moment. ‘God, that’s fucking hot, y/n. But…’ he says, making me tense at the thought he’s not going to give me what I want. ‘Your begging means nothing – you’re just saying what you think I want to hear. You need to earn it, angel,’ he says, making me whine in frustration and thrash on his lap. I’ve had enough now – my vibrator can probably do a better job than him, and Jennie will be fast asleep now (she could sleep through an earthquake). ‘Call me by my name,’ he says, breaking through my anger, and I freeze. ‘What?’ ‘I said to call me by my name. You’ve only ever called me Park. If you swallow your pride and call me ‘Jimin’… I’ll make you cum as many times as you want,’ he says, and it sounds simple enough, tempting enough.

But I’m not giving him what he wants.

‘No.’ ‘No?’ ‘No.’ ‘Okay,’ he says simply, his fingers sliding back in easily, making me shudder. His fingers pump in and out of me, furiously fast, as his thumb rubs against my clit, my mind numbing with pleasure as I let out moan after moan, unable to stop myself, and I know I must be so loud right now, loud enough for my friends on the floor below to hear, but I don’t care. He curls his thick fingers, brushing against the soft spongy spot inside me, and I let out a loud whine. ‘Listen to you being nice and loud for me, like a good little bitch. You’re so close, aren’t you? Can feel your tight pussy clenching around my fingers. You’re gonna cum soon, right?’ he murmurs, fingers fucking into me relentlessly. ‘Call me Jimin. Swallow your pride, call me my name, and I’ll let you cum all over my fingers, as many times as you want, baby. Just call me Jimin,’ he says, voice so soothing that I’m almost persuaded, but no. I’m too proud, too stubborn. I bite down on my lip to stop myself, and he sighs. ‘Such a stubborn little bitch,’ he says, almost disappointedly, pulling his fingers out from me, and I let out a shriek of frustration.

‘Fuck, please, Park! Please let me cum, please! I’m so fucking desperate, need to cum so bad!’ I cry out, words slurred as my eyes fill with tears, vision blurring. He’s silent, just listening to my desperate begging, before plunging his fingers back into me, making me moan. And then he stops, fingers stilling inside me. ‘Park, please, feels so fucking good, please!’ I beg, his fingers continuing to thrust into me when I begin to speak, but stilling when I stop. ‘Please, Park, I need it, need it so fucking bad,’ I whine, and it’s an endless cycle, his fingers only moving when I speak, and stilling when I fall silent. I fall into a repeated cry of ‘please’ again and again until my throat is hoarse, his fingers bringing me close to the edge before he pulls out, yet again. ‘Oh, my God, Park, please make me cum! Please, I need it so bad, need to cum so bad,’ I beg pathetically, and he chuckles. ‘Not until you break,’ he says, pushing his fingers into my swollen pussy again. And he’s ruthless, relentless, fingers fucking into me so fast, so hard that it hurts, hurts so good, and I’m moaning out, loud and desperate. ‘Say it, baby, swallow your pride and say my name like a good girl. I can make you feel so good, angel, so good. Fuck you all night, eat this pretty little pussy until you’re begging me to stop. Just say my name, swallow your pride. Come on, babe, say my name,’ he murmurs, soothing voice mixed with how good his fingers feel fucking into me and his thumb rubbing at my clit that the prospect of not finishing, makes my eyes fill with tears. And I’m so close to breaking, so close. But his fingers disappear.

He lifts me up, moving my weak body to straddle one of his strong thick thighs, the material of his jeans against my pussy making me whimper. My hands grip onto his shoulders to support myself, and when my eyes meet his, I nearly cum from that alone. His eyes are so dark, impossibly dark, blown wide with lust, his hair a mess from him running his fingers through it, his lips swollen and shining in the low lamplight, skin flushed and hot. He looks so fucking hot. ‘Ride my thigh,’ he whispers, and it takes every last bit of my willpower to shake my head, no. ‘Such a fucking brat,’ he spits before he begins bouncing his thigh. I let out a strangled moan when my pussy rubs against the sturdy denim of his jeans, head lolling back, and he quickly grabs my waist to stop me from falling off his leg. He doesn’t stop, and I’m bouncing on his thigh, moans falling from my lips with every jolt, his eyes latching on to my breasts which bounce right in front of his face. ‘Fuck. So fucking hot,’ he says, hand wrenching down the centre of my bralet so my breasts fall out, straps digging into my shoulders. His plump lips attach to one of my nipples, waves of bliss washing over me at the mixed sensations, heightened when he reaches a hand down to rub my clit slowly. ‘Look how good I’m being to you,’ he says against my nipple, his saliva sliding down my breast as he speaks, ‘making you feel so good, angel. And you can’t even say my name. It isn’t that hard.’

I ignore him, focusing on keeping my orgasm at bay – I’d rather feel the pleasure of now for hours than have one more orgasm denied. ‘Say it,’ he says, moving to the other nipple, flicking his tongue over the bud before sucking it. ‘Fuck, please, Park.’ ‘Say it, angel.’ ‘Oh, God, feels so- oh! Fuck.’ ‘Come on, y/n. Just say my name, baby, and I’ll make you feel so good. You’re so close, I know you are. You’re gushing all over my thigh, can feel it through my jeans. Just say it, babe, and I’ll let you soak my thigh with your cum. Say it, angel. Swallow your pride for me, baby, and I’ll make you feel so good, fuck you all night long if that’s what you want.’ And I feel my high nearing, feel the knot in my stomach tightening, and I’m so close, so fucking close that I just can’t, I can’t lose it.

And I break.

‘Fuck, Jimin, please, make me cum, I need it,’ I cry out, a shit-eating grin spreading across his lips as I moan his name again and again, unable to stop because of how fucking good he feels. ‘Cum for me, angel,’ he whispers, and the second I hear him give me permission, I’m falling over the edge, crying out his name as I cum all over his thigh, shuddering as he continues bouncing his leg, thumb rubbing at my clit to prolong my high. ‘Such a good girl, so fucking good for me, angel,’ he whispers soothing words as I come down, his hands on my back gentle and comforting. The exhaustion that comes after my orgasm is heavy, making me fall into him, and he chuckles, holding me as I try to get my breath back, hands on his shoulders.

‘Are you too tired? You wanna stop?’ he asks, and I push myself off him with effort, trying my hardest to stay upright when I land on my feet. I pull my pants back up, and my bralet too before dropping to my knees (I hate being naked while I’m sucking someone off – it’s weird, but I hate being… on display). His eyes darken the second I hit the floor, and he can’t stand up quick enough, unbuckling his belt in record time. I pull his black jeans down to his ankles and he steps out of them, and he pulls his white t-shirt up over his head, throwing it over his shoulder as he steps out of his jeans, kicking them away. And then I pull down his boxers, leaving them bunched up at the top of his thighs, and my heart skips a beat, my eyes widening and my mouth watering at how beautiful he is. His legs are long and toned and his skin is tan and clear, pulled over hard muscles and a full six pack, his abs rippling as his long, thick length stands up against them, rock hard and leaking with precum. I spit on his dick, his breath catching in his throat at the contact, before I use my palm to spread my saliva over his length, his hips bucking. He’s so sensitive, reacting to my every touch, and I almost feel sorry for him, thinking how long he must have been hard. And he’s so big, so thick, with a beautiful fucking curve, that I actually wonder how the hell I’m supposed to get more than just the head of his cock in.

Without wasting time, I lick the tip, revelling in the shaky breath that falls from his lips, his salty precum spread across my tongue. I decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, kitten licking his tip, occasionally swirling my tongue around the head, exhales and gentle groans escaping from his lips. He soon gets impatient, gathering my hair up in one hand and trying to push my head further down onto him, but I resist his force. ‘Stop fucking teasing, y/n,’ he spits out, making me grin to myself, and I don’t waste another second before sinking down onto his length until he hits the back of my throat, the boy letting out a strangled moan as I begin to bob my head up and down. I can’t get my lips to the base of his cock, and my jaw quickly begins to ache, because he’s just too damn big, gags being forced from my throat every few seconds. I take him out of my mouth, placing my tongue at the base, licking up to his tip against the vein on the underside of his cock to relieve myself of having him in my mouth, but he’s quickly bucking his hips, desperate to have my lips around him again. I look up at him through my lashes as I swirl my tongue around the tip before slowly taking him in as far as possible, gagging around him, and when he hits the back of my throat, his head falls back, a desperate moan of my name falling from his lips, the sound rushing straight to my core.

I slowly build up my pace, steadily bobbing my head up and down, taking him in further each time. ‘Fuck, y/n, you’re so fucking good at this, oh, my God. So fucking good, angel, such a good little cockslut for me,’ he groans, hips bucking and making my eyes water, not to mention how hard he’s tugging on my hair, but his moans spur me on through the pain. And I just as I’m beginning to adjust, nearly getting him into my throat, he loses his patience. He starts thrusting into my mouth, controlling my head movements with the hand he has fisted in my hair, and all I can do is grab onto his thighs as he fucks my mouth. ‘Fuck, you’re so good. My perfect little whore, letting me fuck your mouth, and taking it so well. Love hearing you gagging,’ he says, thrusting particularly hard and prompting a gag from me, the noise making him moan. ‘So sexy,’ he whispers, and I moan around him, the vibrations making him thrust faster. Tears stream down my face, saliva bubbling around my mouth and dripping down my chin and neck.

And then there’s a knock at the door, followed by, ‘Jimin, you in there?’ Jimin stills completely and opens his mouth to reply, but I get an idea, deciding to get my revenge for all the edging. I bob up and down on his length, furiously fast, hands playing with his balls, and a strangled groan falls from his lips, panic in his eyes when he looks down at me. ‘y/n,’ he says, almost pleadingly, and I look up at him innocently, as the door opens. I take his dick out of my mouth, looking around Jimin to see Hoseok stood in the doorway, eyes widening at the sight with Namjoon stood behind him, quickly clapping his hand over his eyes when he sees us. ‘I…’ Hoseok says, Jimin sighing before looking at him over his shoulder. ‘Yes?’ ‘Sorry. But I did ask if you were in here,’ Hoseok says, eyes flitting to me, and I can see him holding back a laugh when I grin at him mischievously. ‘Please, Hobi, just get what you need, and go,’ Jimin says tiredly, Hoseok nodding as he darts in, grabbing a charger from what must be the other bed which must be his, before darting back out, dropping a wink at me before he shuts the door.

And Jimin looks down at me, his gaze making my stomach turn. ‘Get up. Now,’ he spits out, and I rise up from the floor as slowly as possible as he pushes his boxers off, leaving him stood in all his glory. He’s so fucking beautiful, an absolutely Adonis – his body is perfect, like it’s been carved by the Gods. He rips my pants off as he reaches around me, unclasping my bralet with unmatched expertise, pulling it off my arms, and throwing both items over his shoulder. He grabs me by the neck, forceful but not violent, and walks me backwards to his bed, pushing me down and climbing over me. ‘You think you’re funny, huh?’ he demands, no regard for how tight he’s gripping my throat, and I grin, enjoying how pissed off he is. ‘We were doing well, and you just had to fucking ruin it,’ he spits out, entire weight on me, and I struggle for air, the lack of oxygen making my head spin pleasurably. ‘You like being caught in the act, huh? Like being a dirty little bitch and being on your knees for me in front of my friends? Or d’you just like pissing me off?’ he demands, eyes dark with anger, veins in his neck corded tight. ‘Like… pissing… you off. Thought… we could… try… hate… sex…’ I breathe out between deep inhales, desperately trying to take in enough air, and he smirks. ‘Thought you’d piss me off, so I’d hate you?’ he asks, and I grin as best as I can, eyes watering. He reaches down and grips his cock in one hand, running his length along my folds teasingly, sending little waves of pleasure through me. ‘Don’t make me beg,’ I whisper, my hoarse voice making him loosen his grip slightly, a smirk stretching his lips out. ‘That’d be mean, right? After how good you’ve been for me?’ he says sarcastically, eyebrow raised, and I fix him with a glare, his hand tightening again, rings digging into my skin. ‘Beg, bitch,’ he spits harshly, and I’m silent, our eyes locked together. ‘I could cum just like this,’ he says, still running his cock across my folds, and I sigh, the thought of him not fucking me making me snake my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to press my lips to his ear and whisper, ‘Fuck me, Jimin, so hard I can’t fucking walk, for as long as you fucking want. Fill me up with your big fat cock until I can’t breathe. Don’t care about me – I’m just a slut for you to use for your own pleasure, a whore for you to fill with your cum until your balls are empty.’ My words make him gulp, eyes blown wide with desire, and I press my lips to his, speaking against his mouth:

‘Fuck me like you hate me.’

He plunges all the way into me, both of us moaning, ‘fuck’, drawing the word out until he bottoms out, and it’s so fucking good. He’s so thick, the stretch burning deliciously, the curve of his cock having him fill me up perfectly, brushing up against my spongy spot without even meaning to. He doesn’t give me even a second to adjust, pulling all the way out before slamming back in, both of us letting out moans at the feeling. He sets a bruisingly fast pace, the bed hitting the wall with each strong thrust of his. ‘So fucking tight. Gonna stretch you out with my fat cock, gonna ruin you for everyone else,’ he growls, forcing the words out with effort, his energy being taken up by thrusting into me, and it’s euphoria, absolutely euphoria. ‘I’d… like to see you… try,’ I breathe out between moans, and he chuckles, hammering into me, heavy balls slapping against my skin. ‘I already broke you, angel – don’t make me embarrass you by doing it again,’ he growls, hand still tight around my neck, my hands on his back, nails digging into his skin, hard. He grabs one of my legs, lifting it to rest on his shoulder, and he goes even deeper than before, my eyes rolling back into my head at the feeling of his cock dragging against my walls.

Obscene squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room with my moans and whimpers, his groans and grunts, the smell of sex thick on the air as he abuses my pussy, pounding into me like there’s no tomorrow, and all I can think is, ‘why the fuck haven’t we done this already?’ ‘Fucking gushing around me, soaking my bed like a good little slut. Gonna smell like you for days – my other bitches will know I’ve had a cock-hungry whore in here,’ he moans against my ear, rage filling me at the mention of other girls, and I can’t help myself. I slap him around the face, and he just grins at me, cheek reddening, not ceasing his thrusting. ‘Jealous? Don’t worry, baby, you’re the best I’ve ever had. I’ll ruin you, but you’ve ruined me. Only want your pussy from now. Want you to be my good little bitch, my sex toy,’ he grunts, cock hammering into me relentlessly, my walls clenching around him. ‘Only if you eat my pussy with those pretty lips,’ I whisper with a grin, and he chuckles, smirking. ‘Can’t wait to taste your pussy, angel. But let me fill it with my cum first,’ he breathes out against my neck, making me moan, before he practically pushes me down into the mattress, cock pounding into me bruisingly hard.

‘So fucking tight around me, baby, like you’ve never been fucked. Your cunt was made for me, huh? Scream my name out, babe. Let everyone in the damn house hear how good my cock makes you feel,’ he prompts, and I can’t help but do as he says, head thrown back into the pillow as he repeatedly hits my g-spot, crying his name repeatedly like a mantra. And I can feel my orgasm approaching, my walls clenched around him, my nails raking down his back, moans falling from my mouth again and again. ‘You gonna cum for me, baby? Come on, want you to soak my cock like a good little slut. Cum for me, angel,’ he whispers against my ear, hand snaking down to rub at my clit, other hand still tight around my neck, pushing me down into the mattress, and I feel the knot in my stomach tightening, head full of bliss. And then he hits the spot inside me head-on, and I reach my high.

I scream out his name, so loud it feels like it’s being ripped out of throat, my own voice ringing in my ears as I cum around him, gushing out release, walls clamped around him so tight he can’t move, and so he rubs at my clit to prolong my orgasm. Never have I felt an orgasm this intense, never felt pleasure like this, and my vision becomes blurry as the tears run down my face, mouth hanging open, eyes rolling back into my head and nails raking down his back, breaking the skin. And when I begin coming down, my walls loosening around him, he starts chasing his own high, with no concern for me at all. He slams into me, again and again, the bed probably leaving dents in the wall every time it bumps against it, and the overstimulation is too much, making me sob. But he doesn’t care, one hand pressing into the mattress, the other one still around my neck as he fucks into me, grunts and groans falling from his lips, and when my vision clears, I nearly cum again at the sight of him.

His black hair is pasted to his head with sweat, his skin completely drenched and glistening with perspiration, mouth wide open and letting out whispers of my name, lips swollen and shining. His eyes are dark, impossibly dark, completely blown wide with lust, and his face is flushed and contorted with pleasure. His muscles ripple with the effort of fucking me, desperate whines escaping his lips as he chases his high, body tense and strong. He looks like sin incarnate.

And I can feel him nearing his orgasm, dick twitching inside me, and I tighten around him, digging my heel into his back to hold him place, his hips stuttering with erratic thrusts. ‘Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum in this tight little pussy. So good for me, so good,’ he moans loudly, making my lips curl in satisfaction before he lets out a cry of, ‘fuck, y/n, gonna cum!’ He buries himself deep inside me, head falling to rest in the crook of my neck, biting down on my skin as he cums, thick and hot ropes of his release painting my insides. And there’s so much of it, an endless amount of cum flooding me, and my sensitive walls fluttering around him prolongs his high, milking his cock for all he has.

Once he’s done, he pulls his softened cock out of me, moving down the bed with a grin, wanting to see his masterpiece. ‘You squirted, you know?’ he says nonchalantly, eyes momentarily flitting up from my pussy to meet mine, and I can’t mask the surprise quick enough, a satisfied smirk stretching across his lips. ‘Thought so. I’m the best you’ve ever had, right, babe?’ he asks, eyes trained on my folds, waiting for his cum to leak out of me, and I don’t reply. ‘God, after such a good fucking, you’re still a stubborn little bitch? Well, whatever. If it makes you feel better, that was the best I’ve ever had too,’ he says, and I’m silent, attempting to ignore the thrill that runs through me – he’s fucked that many girls, but I’m the best. ‘Your moans are so pretty, angel. My name sounds good on your lips,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes, dropping my head back to rest on the pillow – I’m absolutely exhausted, physically and mentally (and of him). ‘Do you always talk this much after sex?’ I ask, and he chuckles. ‘Nope. I usually give them a kiss on their cheek and send them on their way. You should be honoured you’re getting pillow talk,’ he says cockily, and I scoff. ‘Fuck you.’ ‘I just did,’ he says, voice dripping with mirth, and I roll my eyes.

And then I feel it. His cum beginning to drip out of me. ‘God, I really did cum deep, huh? Look how long it took,’ he says, words lined with fascination as he watches my pussy intently. ‘Remember when you said I’ve got a tiny dick?’ he laughs, and I let out an annoyed noise. ‘Shut up,’ I say half-heartedly, before he collects up some of his cum on his fingers, making me let out a shaky breath as I look down at him. He holds his fingers out to me, and I don’t bother waiting this time, licking them clean, and his cum is actually... not bad. Sweet and almost… fruity. But I’m knocked out of my thoughts about his semen when he licks a bold stripe up my pussy, a broken moan falling from my lips. ‘I… didn’t think my cum would taste this good. Or maybe it’s just your pussy,’ he says casually, as though discussing the taste of cocktails. ‘I think it’s your cum.’ ‘Let me test it,’ he says before delving back down for another taste of my juices, making me moan before I thread my fingers into his hair, pulling him away. ‘I’m too sensitive,’ I say gently, and he nods, moving to lie beside me. ‘It’s you, by the way. Your pussy tastes amazing. You gotta let me eat you out in the morning,’ he says, and I turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow and trying to ignore how handsome he is. ‘In the morning?’ ‘Well, if you wanna stay the night, that is,’ he offers indifferently, but I can see that he’s a little nervous underneath the casual demeanour, and so am I, panicking at the prospect of this… not being just sex.

‘Where’s my phone?’ I ask, and he laughs at the swift topic change, before reaching his hand under the pillow my head is on, pulling out my phone, and handing it to me as I thank him – though I shouldn’t have to say thanks for getting my phone back. But whatever. I start to get up, slowly sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. ‘Are you leaving?’ he asks, almost panicked, and I laugh. ‘I gotta clean myself up, and go to the toilet – I don’t want a UTI. Where’s the bathroom?’ I ask, and he pulls a face. ‘It’s the last door in the corridor,’ he says, sitting up to watch me as I collect up my clothes, legs shaky. ‘You’re not gonna put those tight ass clothes back on, are you?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘It’s not like I brought a spare change,’ I say, and he laughs, getting out of bed. He goes to his wardrobe, getting out a loose black long-sleeved top of his, and then to his chest of drawers, delving deep into one of the drawers and pulling out a pair of black Nike socks and a pair of black cotton pants, holding them out to me. And I look at him, looking back at the clothes, before looking back up at him, and then back at the clothes. ‘I hope to God you’re not expecting me to wear those random pants,’ I say with disgust, and he laughs. ‘They’re brand new, I promise. Rosie bought a pack to keep here for when… hers weren’t suitable to wear anymore, and these are from that pack – they’ve never been worn. I swear. And the top and socks are mine – freshly washed,’ he says, and I nod, still suspicious, sniffing the pants when he hands them to me. They smell clean, and I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt – I’d rather not be underwear-less in a frat house. So I pull the pants on, and then his top, trying to ignore how it smells exactly like him, the nice scent filling my senses, and it’s long enough that it covers my ass completely, hem brushing against my thighs. I pull on the socks, soft material nice against my tired feet (I don’t know why I wear heels – it’s literal torture).

‘Make sure you knock – there might be someone in there,’ he says meaningfully, and I scrunch my nose up in disgust. ‘Who fucks in the bathroom of a frat house?’ I ask, and he’s silent, looking a little sheepish. ‘That’s gross. Please, don’t. I don’t want to know,’ I say when he opens his mouth to explain, and he nods, holding back a laugh. I open the door, looking down the corridor to see if it’s empty before rushing towards the bathroom. Thankfully it’s empty, so I wee and clean myself up, trying to ignore how much of a state I look. Once I’m done, I look a little more presentable, but it’s clear I’ve just been fucked, my eyes a little heavy and lips swollen, and my skin glowing. My makeup (which was a full face) is minimal now, my mascara slightly smudged around my eyes and my foundation patchy around my mouth and chin, so I blend it out as best as I can, and it doesn’t actually look that bad. The most noticeable thing is the purpling marks from his mouth, his hand and his rings around my neck and under my jaw, the ones on my collarbones hidden by his top. I run my fingers through my hair, and have it hanging around my face, not really covering the marks, but it’s the best I can do. I head back into Jimin’s bedroom, and I stifle a laugh at seeing that he’s fast asleep. And he looks really fucking cute, lips pouted, hair messy and face relaxed with slumber. How can he go from being the most annoying person in the world, to being sin personified, to being adorable? It’s obvious he was expecting me to stay the night with him – he’s on one side of the bed, the other side with two pillows, my phone sat atop them with the blanket pulled down for me to climb in.

But I can’t. I can’t stay the night and pretend like everything’s okay. Yes, he just gave me the best fucking of my life, but I’m not sure if it makes up for all the times he’s been a dick to me over the past couple years. And now, he’s expecting me to climb into bed with him, to act like we’re more than just two people who hate each other, and acted on our sexual tension and attraction to one another. Because that is all we are. But then he said things like me being the best he’s had, and that he wants to eat me out in the morning, and he’s expecting me to stay the night when he never lets anyone stay the night – everyone knows that about him. So maybe he doesn’t hate me, which is terrifying, because I cannot deal with Park Jimin not hating me.

So I have to make him hate me.

Quietly, I grab my phone, and he moves in his sleep, stirring, making me panic and run out of the room, leaving behind my clothes and shoes. I venture to the end of the corridor, ordering my Uber before looking down the flight of stairs, spotting the group of my friends still sat on the landing, Chaeyoung sat closest. ‘Chaeng, I whisper, but she doesn’t hear me. ‘Chaeng!’ I hiss a little louder, and she looks around before spotting me, opening her mouth to speak before I hold a finger to my lips. She gets up, pretending she’s going to the bathroom before rushing up the stairs. ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Yeah, but I need to, like, escape. I’ve ordered an Uber, but I left my shoes in his room,’ I say, and she instantly slides off her sparkly silver sliders. ‘Don’t you need them?’ ‘Yoongi said I could stay the night,’ she says shyly, making me squeal with excitement for her, a little smile on her face. ‘You know there’s no way you’re gonna be able to leave without everyone seeing you?’ she says, and I sigh, slipping her shoes on. ‘I know, but I can’t stay. I can’t share a bed with him,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Girl, we heard everything. Everything. But staying the night is where you draw the line?’ she asks, and I nod, absolutely humiliated that they could hear. ‘Yes. I still hate him,’ I say as though it’s obvious, and she just nods, holding back a laugh. ‘Come on, then,’ she says, leading me down the stairs, and I’m so embarrassed when my friends spot me, jeering and laughing. ‘Walk of shame!’ Bambam shouts, before the boys all begin chanting it, and I cover my face in embarrassment. ‘Bye, girls!’ I call over the racket, the girls all bidding me goodbye before Chaeyoung leads me down the next flight of steps.

She turns the handle of the front door, pushing it open for me, and I quickly rush out before I can run into anyone else. ‘Thanks, Chaeng, you’re the best. I’ll drop these off tomorrow,’ I say, motioning to the shoes, and she waves my words off. ‘Just bring them to try-outs next weekend. Text me when you get home,’ she says, and I nod, my phone buzzing to let me know my Uber’s a minute away. ‘See you, Chaeng,’ I call over my shoulder, heading up to the pavement. My Uber pulls up, and I turn to wave at Chaeyoung, instead seeing her being pushed out of the way by Jin and Jungkook who are cheering and shouting at me, running over. I quickly jump into the Uber before they can reach me, telling the driver to go quickly, and he does so, leaving Dumb and Dumber in our dust. I’m silent the entire journey back, trying my hardest to stay awake, and I can feel him looking at me in the rear-view mirror, probably wondering why I’m dressed the way I am, getting into an Uber at 4am. Or maybe he knows exactly why.

When we pull up to my accommodation, the sky is already beginning to lighten with morning just around the corner, and I thank him, climbing out of the Uber and heading into the building, entire body aching. I take the lift, having to lean one hand against the wall as I walk down the corridor towards our door. And then I realise I left my bag, with my keys in them, in Jimin’s bedroom. I’d hoped to sneak in whilst Jennie was asleep, but I’ll definitely have to wake her up now. I knock on the door, not too loud because I don’t want to wake anyone in the neighbouring rooms up, but it works, Jennie instantly opening the door. And she doesn’t look like she’s been sleeping, wide awake and fixing me with a hard glare. She knows.

It was always a dangerous game, messing with Jimin - especially when you were with the boys. So when one night you took your teasing too far, you lit a fire inside him, and found yourself pressed up against the wall in a restaurant bathroom, screaming out his name as he pounded into you from behind.

But it didn’t start out this way.

You sat at the diner table with the members of BTS, waiting for your food to be delivered, conversing to pass the time. Seokjin was in the middle of telling one of Jungkook’s embarrassing moments when you slid closer to Jimin, your dress riding up slightly underneath the table. Your bare skin pressed against the red leather seating, sweat lining your body.

Jimin looked to you and smiled, leaning over to kiss your cheek. You almost didn’t want to tease him, but the thought was too much to resist. As he spoke to Namjoon across the table, you slid your hand across his thigh, slightly squeezing, earning a glare from Jimin. With an innocent smile, you pulled your hand back and sighed in relief as the food finally arrived. You dug into your chicken, and all was calm for a while.

That it, until you placed your hand back on Jimin’s thigh. Jimin choked a bit on his salad and looked at you, eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing?” Jimin whispered under his breath.

“I’m bored,” You whined, rubbing his leg. You walked your fingers up his jeans until you reached his crotch, slightly brushing over it with your open hand. Jimin’s breath hitched, and you smiled to yourself before pressing down slightly, already feeling his jeans tighten underneath you.

“You are really trying it, Y/N,” Jimin growled, grabbing your hand as he continued to eat with the other, acting like nothing was happening under the table.

“I wanna play.” You squeezed his crotch, earning a low groan from him. Yoongi gave you both a questionable look, although, through his eyes, it looked like he already knew what was going on.

“You guys okay over there?” Yoongi asked, and suddenly, all eyes turned over to you. You quickly pulled your hand away, smiling innocently while Jimin was left in a flustered state, a shade of red spilling over his cheeks. You took a bite of your chicken and wiped your mouth before responding.

“Just fine. Right, babe?” You said, looking over to Jimin, who was practically staring at you with daggers in his eyes. If looks could kill, you’d be 6 feet under that very moment.

“Yes, we’re fine,” Jimin muttered, taking a sip of his wine.

The others returned to their conversation, allowing you to slip your hand to Jimin’s thigh again. This time, he quickly caught your hand and pulled you out of the booth, earning confused looks from the rest of the boys.

“I have to talk with Y/N real quick. We won’t take long,” Jimin said, tugging you away from the table despite the others whispering and tilting their heads in confusion. He pulled you aside into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

When he turned around, you swore you felt your blood run cold. It’s as if all of the sweetness and kindness that filled Jimin had just disappeared, and all that was left was a lustful predator waiting to feast on his prey.

“You think that’s funny? Teasing me under the table like that, when we’re out in public with the boys?” Jimin growled, taking a few steps toward you. You stepped back until your back hit the wall, the cold tile pressing against your exposed skin.

“It’s a little funny, yeah,” You laughed, rolling your eyes, only to cut yourself off with a gasp as Jimin slammed his hands on either side of you, trapping you against the wall.

“I don’t like playing games, Y/N.” Jimin’s eyes scanned you over, taking in every inch of your body. He drank up your image, catching his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I just wanted a little attention,” You pouted, gasping when Jimin suddenly turned you around and hooked his fingers under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to bunch at your hips.

“Fine. I’ll give you attention.” He rushed to unbuckle his belt, freeing his cock from his underwear. You squealed as he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your panties down just enough to expose your throbbing cunt. It tasted the outside air for just a moment before being stretched wide open as he thrusted balls-deep.

“Babe, fuck-not here!” You moaned loudly, grabbing his arm that wrapped around your waist to pull you back against him.

“You asked for it, now you’re getting it,” Jimin growled, hoisting up your leg before pushing your torso against the wall, slamming his cock up into you. You cried out, relishing in the feeling of him finally inside you, stretching you out so good. Your fingers tried to grip at something, yet they couldn’t find anything and slid down the tile walls, your body jolting forward with Jimin’s thrusts. You hissed as he hit a spot deep inside you that had you trembling in his arms.

“Don’t go so deep!”

Jimin grunted and nudged your leg up a little, providing more access to your core as he ignored your words and kept thrusting deep into you, your cheek pressed against the cold bathroom wall. Your loud moans were sure to have flown past the bathroom door and out to the restaurant, but nothing mattered more than the feeling of Jimin between your legs, pounding you senselessly.

“Tell me who owns this pretty little pussy! Tell me!” Jimin said, groaning as he kneaded the flesh of your ass, pushing your back with his arm to press you against the wall, an electric jolt running down your spine. Jimin slipped his hand down to your clit, pinching it in time with his thrusts. You whimpered his name, hitting the wall with your palm in defeat.

“You! Fuck, you, Jimin!” You moaned, now sobbing as he kept fucking into you relentlessly. You felt your stomach tightening, and your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you felt yourself nearing your high.

“You gonna cum, baby? Cum all over me like the little cockslut you are?”

You nodded quickly, crying out his name, your pussy clenching around his cock in a need for release.

“Yes! Please, Jimin. Please let me cum!” You begged, reaching back to hold the back of his neck and pull him down to you for a passionate kiss, his hips still moving at a quick pace. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and moved his hand to rub fast, messy circles into your throbbing clit. “Jimin, please!”

He hoisted you up and buried his cock deep inside your quivering hole, erupting deep inside you and bathing your walls in hot seed as you frantically came around him. You screamed his name, throwing your head back, focusing on the way his cum dribbled down your thigh as he pulled out.

You took a moment to catch your breath and ground yourself, as stars were already dancing in your vision from the intense orgasm you just experienced. Never before had Jimin made you cum that hard - and god, did you want to experience it again. Yet, your heaving chest and sweating body left you at your limit for the night, though you weren’t complaining.

Jimin dressed up again, then hovered his hand over the towel dispenser and ripped off a paper towel, walking back over to you to clean you up, his eyes locked with yours the entire time. When he finished and threw out the paper towel, you turned around and pulled your soaked panties back up, smiling at him.

“We’re so getting kicked out,” You laughed, Jimin joining in with a small giggle as he helped you tidy up your appearance, though, you really wouldn’t do much fooling, coming out of the bathroom together after your loud coupling.

The second you opened the door, you were met with the eyes of a very disgruntled employee, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” She said. You simply shrugged and smirked at Jimin, grabbing his hand to pull him back to the table where the others were already finished and waiting for you, their faces noting their obvious disappointment. Namjoon sighed and rolled his eyes, turning around to leave.

“You couldn’t even wait an hour, you horny shits,” Hoseok grumbled, whacking the back of Jimin’s head. As you walked down the aisle, earning disgusted looks from other customers, you leaned over to Jimin and whispered to him.

“Worth it?” You asked, and Jimin scoffed, slipping one hand down to tap your ass.

“Definitely.”

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