Summary: Everyone thought finding your soulmate meant the start of your happy ending, but when yours happens to be an idol in one of the biggest kpop groups in the world all the secrets and the lies get too much. So you make a choice to put yourself first and leave. Four years on, you pick a random holiday destination to enjoy some time for yourself and who should you happen to run into?
Rating: 18+ (mature) NSFW
Genre(s): soulmate au / idol au / non idol reader / exes to lovers / angst / fluff / smut
Warnings: Talk of heartbreak, relationship break down and mentions of depression related to this / loss of close friendship / oral sex (female receiving) - not detailed / P in V unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) / creampie /
Word count: 6.5k
Beta: @lo1k-diamonds thank you so much for your always helpful suggestions
Banner and moodboard: by me
A/N: This is for @lapydiaries annual summer event 'An unexpected journey'
Taking your first mid-morning walk along the beach since you arrived here — toes sinking slightly into the warm sand and the cool breeze blowing gently through your hair — is the much needed break you'd been after. Something about the sun caressing your skin and the sea salt air makes you feel instantly rejuvenated.
Book in hand, you head to the coffee shop you'd seen when the taxi dropped you off at the apartment late last night. After a delayed flight and a stressful time at the airport locating your luggage, you wanted nothing more than to get into a comfortable bed and had definitely not felt like exploring. But after a good night's sleep, you were more than ready to begin this well deserved holiday.
The decked seating area on the beach looked like the perfect place to get lost in the pages of your novel, with a drink and a pastry. There were a few people already seated; two women chatting and giggling animatedly with each other, a couple holding hands as they looked at something on a phone and two men with their backs to you, sitting together looking out at the sea view.
Climbing up the wooden steps, you throw your flip flops down, wiping the sand off your feet before sliding them back into place and heading inside to make your order.
With the aroma of your coffee filling your senses and comforting you in its warm embrace, you relax into your seat, letting the gentle breeze dance around you. And just as you begin to fall deep into another world, you hear your name from behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, expecting to see an interaction with someone that is not aimed at you, but instead frozen in shock to find yourself looking into the eyes of someone very familiar. Your heart, feeling like it's been jump started, hammers away loudly in your ears as you stare into the large, doe eyes of Jeon Jungkook.
“Kookie?” you say quietly as you stand and place your book back down on your table.
His beaming grin has you mirroring him with your own; he always had that effect on you.
“I can’t believe it's you!” he says, pulling you into a hug, and as soon as you squeeze your arms around his neck, he lifts you off the floor and spins you around. When he returns you to your feet, you're giggling and pinching his cheeks, making him blush a little, but he doesn’t pull away, just stares at you in the same wide-eyed manner as he always used to.
Oh, fuck. Is he with him? The sudden thought has you frozen in place as your eyes dart around, landing on everyone you can see, searching for that familiar blonde hair amongst them.
“It’s ok,” Jungkook starts, “he’s not here.”
You release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, and just that sentence is enough to have you relaxing again.
You take him in, broader than the last time you saw him, his muscular arms particularly noticeable in his tight t-shirt. No longer afraid to have his tattoo on show, you notice appreciatively.
“Come, sit, join me,” you say, taking your seat again and pointing to the empty chair beside yours, glad when he takes you up on the offer. “What are you doing here?” you ask, leaning forward eagerly, wanting to hear about everything you've missed.
“We’re shooting a music video for the lead single on our new album,” he says proudly, the wood of his seat creaking as he leans back.
“I have heard about the highly anticipated new album.” You grin as you bring your coffee cup up to your lips to take a sip.
Raising an eyebrow at you, he tries to rein in his smile but fails miserably. “So, you've been keeping tabs on us, then?”
This makes you chuckle, what did he expect? “Of course. I loved your album too, I listen to it all the time.”
His eyes widen and mouth forms into a small ‘o’, and it makes you giggle. “You listened to Golden? What's your favourite song?”
Why did this feel like a test? No matter, you would pass with flying colours. “Easy, either ‘standing next to you’ or ‘Yes or no’.”
He smirks playfully. “Ok, well, don't I feel special.”
Shaking your head at him, a thought suddenly had a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. “If you're here for the new album, that means Jimin is here too?”
He grimaces awkwardly, and a seriousness falls over his face as he studies you. “Yes, but he’s back at our hotel, training. You won’t see him here, don’t worry,” he insists, putting his hands up in surrender, attempting to ease your concern.
You fly halfway across the world, picking somewhere completely random and yet you end up in the same city as the person you’ve been avoiding for the last four years. If you were honest, are you even surprised at this point? Soulmates are drawn to each other, after all.
“How long are you here for?” he asks, fiddling with your napkin, the habit of fidgeting clearly still very prominent. Not that you've ever minded it.
“Ten days, you?”
He smiles at you hesitantly. “Just a week.”
A week. A week of looking over your shoulder and searching for his face in every person you pass. “Great,” you mumble to yourself, but when you look up and see Jungkook's sad expression, you know he caught it, and it's as if someone punched you in the gut. Guilt consumes you and a large knot forms in your stomach. “I'm sorry, Kookie, I really am happy to see you.”
Placing your hand on top of his, he grabs it and squeezes your fingers, giving you a false smile. “There was a time when we were friends,” he starts, avoiding your eyes and staring at the napkin he's ripped up into small pieces. “Do you remember how close we were?”
You nod, your lower lip trembling with the thoughts of everything you miss. “I'm sorry, I should have stayed in contact with you. I wanted to - I just…” your voice trails off, not even sure what to say at this point. Four years is a long time, how can you justify that?
“Hey, it's ok,” he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, “I understand, I do. I know how hard it was for you to walk away. I just…I miss you.”
His words slice into you like a fast knife, so quick you barely saw it coming, and without warning, a tear escapes and trails slowly down your cheek. He sits up, sliding his chair closer to you and wipes it away with the back of his hand. “I'm sorry, please don't cry, I'm not trying to upset you,” he panics.
“I know.” Squeezing his hand tighter, you admit, “I miss you, too.”
“Jungkook,” the security member with him steps in apologetically, “we should be getting back, you'll be late for the schedule.”
He nods before turning back to you and rolling his eyes. “The dreaded schedule.” He lets out a lengthy sigh and stretches his neck, making it click. “Meet me back here tomorrow morning? I'll have more time, and we can have a proper catch up?”
Thinking it over, you know the answer before you've had a chance to weigh up the pros and cons. You can't say no to him when he's looking at you so happy and hopeful. “Sure. That would be nice.”
When he stands, you join him, and he quickly pulls you into an embrace. “I'll be here at eight,” he says quietly, holding onto you for a moment longer.
You nod into his shoulder. “I'll be here.”
He pulls back, smiling at you and pressing his lips briefly to your forehead. “It's so good to see you.”
You cannot describe the overwhelming, safe, familiar feeling he brings you.
From the moment you and Jimin had started dating, and you met Jungkook, you had instantly clicked in a different way than with the other BTS members. You and Jungkook were as close as siblings; you teased him like a younger brother, and he looked up to you like an older sister, always confiding in each other and being that shoulder to cry on in your toughest times.
The night you'd had enough and made the impossible decision to leave Jimin, Jungkook was the one who ran to your side and cradled you in silence while you cried.
He stayed at your house for weeks, cooking to make sure you were eating, forcing you to get up and do things when you were catatonic. But the two of you remaining so close made it impossible to…there isn't a word for it. Move on? How can someone move on from their soulmate? They can't.
When you find them, everything clicks into place, you become bound to one another, your souls intertwined forever. When you were with Jimin, you could breathe, you felt whole, you were happy…until you weren't.
Being the soulmate of an idol comes with its own cost, one you were more than willing to pay, for a while anyway. But after three years living your life with him, you had left.
If someone had taken a knife and stabbed you in the heart, it would have been less painful than what you felt, and so many times you ended up back at his door. Each night, comforting each other in the darkness, lips on his, body to body, searching for answers you were never going to find. And each time you left, it was torture.
Jungkook had stayed because he was worried. He went between you and Jimin, consoling both any chance he got, until you realised how unfair it was for him to be stuck in the middle. He was exhausted, dark circles permanently under his eyes, no time for anything other than the two of you. He neglected his training, his work, himself. Once you realised that, it was a huge wake up call.
You found an apartment in another country and left. You said your goodbyes to Jungkook, a final nail in the coffin and didn't look back, knowing him and Jimin would be better off without your presence hindering their lives. You plunged head first into your new city, new career, and new life for yourself. An incomplete one but a life nonetheless.
To find yourself back in Jungkook's presence has reminded you, not only of everything you miss but of everything you left behind. And you were not ready to go anywhere near that world. But being around Jungkook felt safe, comforting and loving. Things you have not felt since you left four years ago. You could enjoy it for one day, right?
“I have to go. Sorry.” He gives you a beaming grin and heads off down the wooden steps and onto the beach.
“Kookie?” you call out as quietly as you can as you follow him to the steps.
He pauses and turns to you.
“Please don't tell Jimin I'm here.”
His face falls, and he looks off, a worried expression furrowing his brow. “I can't lie to him.”
You sigh, hating the position you're putting him in, but you have no other choice. “It's not lying, you're just not mentioning it.”
He gives you a curt nod, turns and jogs off along the beach with his security, leaving you with a rock in the pit of your stomach, having a feeling you won't be able to avoid seeing Jimin the whole week.
*
After a lovely meal in a restaurant on the seafront overlooking the ocean at sunset, you went back to your bed a little tipsy, enjoying your dinner with more than a couple glasses of wine. With your eyes heavy and begging for sleep, it wasn't long before you were pulled under its blanket and dreamt of Jimin. This was a regular occurrence, but the time between dreams of him has been growing longer recently, much to your relief and simultaneous disappointment.
When your eyes snap open to the bright morning light streaming through the thin curtains, a familiar ache in your chest makes you curl up into a ball and hug your knees.
Seeing his face behind your eyes every time you close them, and the feeling of his lips against yours felt so real, you could almost taste him. Licking your lips, you attempt to savour the moment before the fog of sleep completely dissipates, leaving nothing but the harsh reality of life without him.
Glancing at the time on your phone, you have an hour before you meet Jungkook. Maybe a morning swim in the ocean would start your day off nicely.
Throwing off the covers, you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth, shower and change into your swimming costume. Then, grabbing your towel, you rush off outside, trying to leave all thoughts of Jimin behind and back in that bed.
The whole stretch of sand as far as your eye can see is pretty empty, only a handful of people are already out. Finding a spot to leave your towel and belongings is easy on the vacant beach, then you race off into the water. As the tide laps over your feet, you give yourself a moment to adjust to the temperature; not freezing but not warm yet either, before heading further in. By the time the water’s up to your waist, it almost takes your breath away, but the bright sun, already fairly high in the sky, warms your skin. Diving in, you swim through the gentle current. There's something different about being in the ocean, something that makes you feel at peace. When you start to get really tired and out of breath, you turn on your back and float, staring up at the sky and searching for shapes in the clouds.
“Care for company?” You recognise Jungkook's voice instantly and sit up to tread water as he glides towards you.
“You're early,” you reply with a grin.
He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “Are you still as good a swimmer as I remember?”
“No,” you say, shaking your head, “I'm better.”
He arches a brow at the challenge. “Alright, first one to touch that buoy wins.” He points to the bright orange marker ahead.
Grinning widely, you agree, “You're on. Three, two, one, go,” you countdown quickly, hoping for a headstart, but he's on your tail in an instant. You remain in the lead up until a metre from the finish, and he swoops past you. But determination takes over, and you find yourself grabbing his shoulders and clambering onto his back. He shouts out to you and tries to knock you off, but this only makes you cling on tighter as you burst out laughing. He chuckles as his head sinks below the surface until he finds his bearings and powers through the water with you on his back, leaning forward, legs tight around his waist. Just as he's a foot away from the buoy, you lunge forward at it, touching it a couple of seconds before he does.
You erupt into cheers, watching the grin on his face broaden further.
“You cheated, that doesn't count,” he argues, splashing you in the face with water, making you gasp.
“I beg to differ, all you said was ‘first one to touch the buoy’. There were no specifications or rules, therefore - technically, it was not cheating.”
He rolls his eyes, a silent admission of his defeat, but before you can say anything else, he lunges towards you, grabbing you around the waist, lifting you and throwing you back into the water.
After a few minutes of playing around in the water, you both begin to head back to the shore.
“I came here early hoping to catch you,” he says, still trying to catch his breath as you wade through the water together. “I can't join you for coffee anymore, sorry.” He winces.
Nudging his shoulder, you say, “Hey, that's ok, I know your schedule must be crazy. Playing around in the sea will have to suffice.”
He looks down at his feet as you walk slowly out of the water, his whole demeanor no longer relaxed and carefree like he was in the ocean. His shoulders are tense, and he won't meet your eyes. Your stomach sinks, a thought lurking deep in your mind that churns away inside. “What is it, Kookie?” you demand.
He sighs. “I wasn't going to say anything, I promise,” he starts rambling, “but they all knew something was going on. They thought I'd met my soulmate, so I had to tell them. I'm so sorry.”
And just like that, the niggling thought that had been troubling you since you saw Jungkook yesterday became a reality.
“And, well, Jimin really wants to see you.”
“No,” you say, staring at him flatly. “I can't.”
He grimaces then and looks up guiltily towards the beach. Following his gaze to where you left your belongings, the world around you seems to stand still as your eyes connect with Jimin, and my god, did he look even more beautiful than you remembered, your dreams had not done him justice. His shoulder-length blonde locks, much longer than when you last saw him, move in the gentle morning breeze and suit him in a way you couldn’t have imagined. His plump full lips pull up into a smile so devastating, your knees wobble slightly as you remember the way they felt against yours in the dream you had last night. But you can’t return it. You’re already in panic mode, fight or flight. Your legs are powering you forward against your will, feet slapping against the surf and sinking into the wet sand with each step. Your heart, pounding so hard it hurts, desperate to be reunited with its other half, but you can’t do it. You can’t go through it all again.
Jungkook tries grabbing your hand, but you pull away, even after he calls your name. You can’t stop, your feet charging forward with a purpose: to get you the hell out of here.
You glance at Jimin. His smile has vanished, replaced with a worrisome brow, even his security is watching you, full of concern. When you're a couple of metres away, Jimin says your name, and it makes you pause for just a moment. It's long enough for Jungkook to swoop in front of you, hands on both your arms, and his big, dark eyes searching yours.
“I'm sorry,” he says quietly, “but I couldn't keep this from him.” He pulls you against his chest and holds you so tight you almost feel like you're not falling apart.
“I care about both of you, and I know how much you are hurting,” he whispers. “I've seen how much he's hurting, every day, and how much he misses you. Please, just hear him out.”
Closing your eyes for a moment, you think about the love of your life standing only steps away from you. You think about when you left; you didn't even say a proper goodbye, you simply said everything in the form of a letter and were gone, shutting him out completely because you couldn't deal with more than that. Maybe you owe him that much, the chance to say goodbye, the chance for closure, even though it's impossible. But then you also think about Jungkook, how he's stuck in between you both, and after everything he's done for you, you would do anything for him.
And so you nod. “Fine,” you mumble against his chest, and he releases you, looking so relieved that he looks like he might cry.
“Thank you,” he says, kissing your forehead and waving Jimin over.
Taking a deep breath to try and calm your frantic heart, you watch as he hesitantly closes the distance between you. A shy smile on his face, reminding you of that boy you first met years ago, insecure and unsure of himself but so sweet and endearing all at once.
“You can walk me back to my apartment, which is just there.” You point a little way down the beach. “That's it, nothing else,” you insist.
He nods and puts his hands up in surrender. “I hear you, I just want to talk, that's all, then I'll leave you alone.”
You know you can trust him, but can you trust yourself? Are you strong enough to hold onto your decision? You didn't feel it at this moment, not with his sweet face staring back at you so full of love. But you push that aside and throw on a shirt over your bikini before grabbing the rest of your stuff you left on the sand.
“Do you want me to stay?” Jungkook asks, eyes flitting between you both.
You look to Jimin, who gives you an encouraging smile. “If it makes you feel better, I'm fine with it.”
You and Jimin alone — the thought terrified you, but you need to strap your big girl boots on and face this. Besides, you've put Jungkook through enough.
“No, it's ok. I'll see you later, maybe?”
He nods. “I'll call you.” He gives you a grin before running off down the beach with his security, and suddenly the atmosphere changes. The air around you becomes thick and heavy, and you're sure the sun has disappeared behind the clouds, leaving a grey cast across the beach that doesn't match the warmth in the air.
Jimin walks over to his security, looking on a stone’s throw away, and has a quiet word with him, sending him away before returning to you. “Shall we?”
Nodding, you lead the way back along the sand towards your apartment. The silence is so tense it's almost choking, and in a panic, the words are out before you've fully thought about them, “What is it you want, Jimin?”
He smiles sadly, staring down at his feet. “I came to find you, you know, after you left. Four times.”
His admission stuns you and makes your feet pause.
“What? When?”
He sighs, “Every year, around the anniversary of the day we met, I'd fly to the States.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, suddenly sheepish. “I contacted someone to track you down – sorry, now I'm hearing it out loud, I realise how stalkerish that sounds.”
You let out an amused breath through your nose, unable to do more than that while still reeling at this information.
“So, if you knew where I was this whole time, why didn't you…” Your thought trails off, trying to make sense of it.
He shrugs. “I was…scared. You had already left once. And I understand why, I really do, I never blamed you for that. But the thought of knowing it was really over, of not being able to hope that you'd come back, felt too much.”
“So, every year you came to find me and then what? You'd go home?”
His cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink, that makes your heart beat a little bit faster, and he gently moves the sand with his sandal. “Every year I came, it was with the intention to beg you to come home. I'd build myself up, so sure I could do it. I'd wait until I saw you; walking home from work, going to a coffee shop, taking a walk along the river. But as soon as I'd see you, more beautiful than ever, so light and free with this new life you created, I couldn't bear to come in and ruin it. I'd imagine you going home to someone who treats you good, someone who'll move heaven and earth just to see you smile. I'd think about your job, and how you dreamed of that long before we met and worked so hard to get it. I couldn't come in and ask you to stop your whole life just for me.”
You frown, confused and irritated. “Let me get this straight. You came all that way and ran off like a scared little boy?”
He flinches at that, looking uncomfortable, eyebrows turned up in confusion as this conversation clearly isn't going the way he thought it would.
“Instead of actually doing better and offering me a proper relationship, you just left again?” Your eyes search his desperately, looking for answers, but all he looks back at you with is anguish and helplessness. “You are so full of excuses, Jimin. You always have been.”
With that, you turn and begin walking again, but he grabs your hand. “No, wait, please.”
You stop, with your back to him and your eyes focused on your apartment, and give him a minute to continue, hoping and wishing he can get this right.
You want to come home to him, you always have. You want him to be there when you get home, but you deserve to be treated right, not tossed aside as if you don't matter.
“Please, it's different this time,” he pleads, and you let out a bitter laugh.
“I’ve lost count of how many times you've said that. It's never different, Jimin,” you sigh, pulling your hand out of his and stepping away, needing to put some distance between you as you can feel yourself being pulled back in. Just being in his presence is hard enough, but looking into his pleading eyes is almost too much to stay strong.
“Baby, please, I mean it this time.” He reaches out to you again, capturing your wrist and gently pulling it back towards him. “I can't live without you anymore.”
With his words, a dark cloud rolls across the sky, hiding the sun and covering the two of you in a grey cast. Your eyes dart to the water; suddenly, the waves are choppy, and the surf creeps faster up the sand than when you were just in it. The few people who had been on the beach were quickly vacating, giving you an uneasy feeling inside. The sand dances along the beach, making elegant patterns as it moves in the brisk breeze that's whipping your hair around your face.
A rumble in the distance draws both your attention upward, staring up at the gloomy sky, before he returns his focus back to you, stepping forward and leaving only a hair’s width of space between you.
“I will do whatever it takes to have you in my life,” he says, the words so intense you almost believe every single one. But you've been here before, and you know better. “I'm sorry,” he continues, taking your hands in his, and this time you don't pull away.
As you stare back into his desperate, pleading eyes, you feel your resolve start to falter. Something about the way he's staring at you and the need you see there that makes that wall you've built start to crumble.
“I'm sorry for all the times you felt like you weren't good enough.” He continues, “I'm sorry for not listening to your needs. I'm sorry for all those nights you waited up for me, and I didn't show. I'm sorry for hiding you and lying about you to everyone who asked, even other idols, when I knew how it hurt you. I'm sorry for not appreciating you enough because I expected you to always be there. I'm sorry for letting you walk out in the first place, I should have fought harder. But I have changed and I will continue to change, to be better, not just for you but myself.” He pauses to take a breath, eyes brimming with tears that yours surely mirror. “And I know that I don’t deserve another chance of you loving me, but I'm begging you,” he lands on his knees in the sand with a thud, “please, give me one last chance to prove things will be different and that I can be the man that you deserve.”
As he looks up at you, a tear finally breaks free from the dam and runs slowly down his cheek and as it does, a drop of rain lands on your head, then another and another. Suddenly, the drops are pelting down from the sky so hard around you, the landscape is but a hazy blur.
Collapsing to your knees, you can't help but reach out and wipe that tear away with your thumb. And as you do, he leans into your touch, closing his eyes and savouring the moment. The touch of his skin has your fingers tingling, a current running from him through to you, an invisible rope pulling you in again, just as his arms snake around your waist to keep you there. You can't deny how good it feels to be here, in his embrace, feeling all worries and concerns melt away into the background. Deciding to listen to your heart, pounding so loud it's practically screaming at you, instead of your head, full of questions you can't answer yet.
Water pours down your faces, but you don't care, all that matters at this moment is you and him. A flash of bright light across the dark sky is the green light you both need as he captures your lips in a fiery kiss so heated that even the devils at the gates of hell would be jealous. Thunder rumbles loudly around you, but all you can focus on is the way his hands feel against your back, holding you firmly against his hard body, and the way his lips feel exploring yours. You let yourself fall back into your bubble of love with him, even if it's only for tonight. Slowly, your guard comes down, and you find yourself exploring his mouth more fervently as if he could disappear at any moment, just like he did in your dream last night.
The taste of his lips is better than your memory has kept all these years, and when his tongue slides across yours, it lights a fire in you more powerful than a thousand suns. You're breaking the kiss and getting to your feet in an instant, pulling him up and leading him quickly to your apartment.
Shutting the door behind you, quelling some of the storm outside, you stare at each other fixed in place. The air around you is so charged you can practically hear the buzz of electricity between you, you can feel it pulling you closer, drawing you in. He moves towards you, every slow step deliberate and giving you an out, but you don't want it. You need him.
Both of you dripping, clothes see through and clinging to skin, now feeling too tight and uncomfortable. He fingers the buttons of your shirt before he peels it away from your skin and lets it drop with a slap on the wooden floor.
You follow his movements as he circles around behind you. When you feel him pull on the ties at the back of your bikini, your already pounding heart picks up pace. His fingers trace lightly across the skin of your back, sending a ripple of goosebumps down your spine, as he returns to you. He stares at you with a want so powerful you can feel it, a heat radiating from him that teases your skin. He pulls at your bikini top stuck to your breasts, and it joins your shirt on the floor. Your nipples harden instantly as the cool air hits your wet skin.
His fingers go to your hips, at the ties on your bikini bottoms. You're growing impatient to have him touch you, really touch you, to make you feel the way he used to, but at the same time, you can't take your eyes off him. He pulls at the strings on both sides and then tugs them down before taking a step back and marvelling at your naked body with an anguished brow, teeth finding anchorage in his plump bottom lip.
“God, I missed you, baby,” he sighs, closing the space between you both and pulling you against him. He kisses you, softly this time, savouring the moment.
His hands roam your body, tracing every curve and making you shiver with desire. You mould against him perfectly, but the layer of fabric between your flesh frustrates you.
Your fingers race to his buttons with none of the patience he displayed, but with your hands trembling, the task feels impossible. You growl to yourself and opt for ripping the shirt off him instead. The buttons splat out all over the room, clicking against anything they hit.
He pulls back, surprised. “This shirt cost me a lot of money, but that is so fucking hot.” His mouth captures yours again as he fumbles with his shorts, and you try to help as he pushes you towards the bed. A mess of hands and fabric, the desperation between you both so intense, you feel like you can't breathe.
As your back hits the cushioned mattress, he falls with you, his weight above you and his naked flesh against yours, taking you back to a time when you would get lost with him for hours, exploring every part of each other. Surprising how, in one moment, you can be back there again.
You feel his erection at your entryway, begging to be let in. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you use your feet to coax him inside you. You're so needy for him, he has no problem sliding inside. As he begins to move, each thrust sending a lightning bolt of pleasure straight to you that makes your heart swell each time, his lips move along your jaw, teeth grazing your earlobe. “Say you'll stay with me.”
Your moans echo in the quiet room, much louder than the rain beating against your windows.
“Please, baby, say it,” he groans against your throat.
You can't think, let alone speak. All you want is him, every day, for the rest of your life. You can't possibly live without him now.
He picks up his pace, hips angling at just that perfect way you like, reaching just the right spot that makes your toes curl.
“Say you're mine, please,” he breathes.
As your insides pull tight, your breath ragged and heart racing, you call out his name as you unravel around him and tell him what he's so desperate to hear. ‘I’m yours, Jimin, I'll stay.”
With that, he releases himself inside you as he peppers eager kisses down your neck, and as his movements slow, he collapses on top of you, holding you tightly. He slides out of you, settling between your breasts.
“I'll talk to the company about releasing a statement,” he says gently, but in your blissed out haze, you can't make sense of his words.
“What are you talking about?” you say as you stroke his hair.
He lifts his head up to look at you. “A statement announcing I've found my soulmate.”
Your recovering heart suddenly slams back into overdrive, pounding so hard, you know he can feel it as he leans his chin on your chest. “Jimin, you can't be serious.”
He smirks at you with a one sided smile that has your core clenching around nothing. “Let me show you how serious I am.” He replies as he begins a trail of kisses across your breasts and down your stomach.
After hours of endless leg shaking ecstasy, desperate pleas and calling out names, you fall curled up against him, leaving the worries of decisions as a problem for later.
*
Waking from the deepest sleep you've had in a while to orange sunlight streaming in through the window, flashes from this morning play behind your sleepy eyelids. Your lips swollen from kissing, your muscles aching and your core sore but in the best way possible, you reach out to the other side of the bed to pull Jimin close, but your searching fingertips find nothing.
Your eyes snap open and look frantically around your apartment, could he have left already? Did he mean anything he said?
Your stomach twists anxiously at the idea of having to start life again without him, but in the midst of your spiralling thoughts, you hear a murmur of a voice in the distance. Your eyes are drawn to the double doors overlooking the beach, left ajar. Through the thin white curtains, you can see a figure standing on the porch.
Climbing out of bed and covering your naked body with your long white shirt, you wrap it around yourself and step outside. This morning's thunderstorm is a distant memory, the sand is dry and the sun hot and setting below the horizon, and the calm sea lazily laps at the shore.
Jimin stands on the porch staring at the ocean, phone at his ear, leaning on the wooden railing, his open shirt billowing in the breeze, looking picture perfect.
“Yes, ok, thanks,” he says before hanging up. Your arms wrap around his waist, pressing your cheek to his back, and he instantly holds your hands tight to keep you there.
“Good evening, beautiful,” he says gently.
“Hi,” you reply, smiling against him. He turns in your grasp, giving you the opportunity to hook your fingers behind his neck and him an excuse to grab your rear.
“I thought you'd left,” you admit, feeling a warmth tint your cheeks.
He looks pained for a minute before hooking your chin up to meet his eyes. “Without saying goodbye?”
You smile sheepishly, a sadness beginning to creep in at the thought of him leaving. Any moment yet, he'll announce he needs to go or he has a schedule, some parting excuse.
“I take it you haven't checked your phone yet,” he says, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
This makes you frown, what on earth could he mean?
“No,” you reply, bewildered.
“Maybe you should,” he says, fighting a smirk.
Breaking the embrace, you head back into the bedroom, looking in the obvious places for it, and quite quickly, you become frantic. Where the hell is your phone?
Suddenly, you spot it on the floor, sticking out from under the bed, and make a dive for it. Unlocking it, you see a usual amount of notifications, but it was the news headline that sat at the top that had your entire focus:
“Global BTS superstar Park Jimin finds soulmate.”
Your heart swells like a balloon in your chest, fit to pop as you click on the story and read.
“He's officially off the market, army!”
The tagline makes you laugh as you skim through the words. You aren't mentioned by name, but you aren't a secret anymore.
“We've not been told what that means for Jimin specifically, but in the statement released by Hybe earlier today, they assure army all members of BTS will remain together and continue preparations for the upcoming album release and world tour.”
Jimin's hands find your hips and turn you to face him. He takes the phone gently from your grasp and throws it on the bed. “I love you,” he whispers, touching his forehead to yours. And for the first time in a long time, you feel completely at peace. Everything feels how it should be, and you can't wait to start your life with him, however that might look.
ꔫ rating: M (this fic may explore some darker themes please read at your own discretion. Take care of yourself.)
ꔫ wc: 3.2k
ꔫ warnings: obsessive nature, obsessive nature, SMUT, fighting, Jimin is actually losing his mind, CHEATING (Jimin cheats but he REALLY regrets it :( ) , forgiveness is not going to come easy. JIMIN REALLY IS DOWN BAD FOR YOU. Failed pregnancy attempts mentioned.
ꔫ synopsis: You were supposed to surprise your husband with the news that you were finally pregnant after MONTHS of trying and failed attempts. It's supposed to be the happiest day of your lives...
Instead, you surprised him cheating.
Now Park Jimin is the man who ruined the happiest moment of your life—and the same man begging for a chance to prove he still deserves you.
But forgiveness isn’t simple when love and betrayal share the same breath.
You met Jimin when you were 23, at the highlight of his career. The same night you broke off your engagement to a man that couldn’t even remember your favorite color.
You thought you would be sad but you were quite the opposite. You were having the time of your life. You and your friends were lighting up the dance floor. Drinks were flowing and the music was rolling. There was no bad thought that came to your mind. You felt…free.
You were bouncing between your friends and strangers when you felt eyes burning the back of your head from the VIP section.
Park Jimin, also 23 then—intoxicating and mysterious. It didn’t take long from the moment your eyes connected for him to make his move. He showered you in a luxury that you didn’t know before. Dates on private islands, daily lunch dates and shopping trips. He once took you to Paris just because you were thinking about having pasta for dinner. He was the perfect example of how you felt a man should court you or any woman for that matter.
Within a month, despite your friends and families comments, you were married.
Crazy. Insane even but on the rare occasion, it worked.
It was a whirlwind, the honeymoon phase that never ended. It felt like it never would.
You had it all.
A beautiful life, amazing friends, a handsome husband that was crazy about you. The only thing you both wanted desperately was a child. Jimin would stay up at night, laying on your chest with his hand sprawled on your flat stomach, thinking about how beautiful you would be carrying his child, the one thing he wanted that money couldn’t buy.
He became obsessed.
This wasn't an empty obsession. This wasn’t a “Once the baby gets here, you’re going to wish you never had kids.” type of thing.
You and Jimin are certain that this is what you wanted. You talked about it all the time with your friends. Jimin probably talked about more than you.
He spent countless hours looking up things that you both could do to conceive. He made you put your legs against the wall one time after a long night of making love, there was even a drink that you both drank to ‘enhance’ your chances of conceiving.
But nothing you did helped.
Month after month, the negative tests started to pile up.
Every disappointment hurt worse than the last but Jimin stayed hopeful.
“It’s not our turn yet but soon my love. Soon.” he would say, holding you from being, hiding his face in your neck, seeking comfort from your scent and closeness. “We’re going to be the world’s best parents.”
But today? Today is different.
~~~~~
The bathroom is quiet. Too quiet.
Morning light filters through the large windows that hang behind the large bath, looking out at the busy city of Seoul below you, pale and soft, barely touching the white tile walls. You sit on the edge of the bathtub, elbows resting on your knees, the small plastic test clutched loosely in your hands.
You almost didn’t take it.
After so many months—so many quiet disappointments—you’d stopped expecting anything different. The routine had become painfully familiar: wake up, take the test, hold your breath… then tuck another negative result into the back of your mind like it never mattered, but Jimin’s hope is the only reason why you took the test today.
You wanted to be a mother but you had to admit the dream died each time you took a negative test. You were just a few tests away from your dream hitting the back burner.
So when the timer on your phone goes off, you don’t rush.
You stare at the floor for a moment longer, gathering yourself the way you always do. Preparing for the same hollow feeling.
A small part of you wished that you had waited for Jimin to return home before taking it but that ship has sailed.
“Okay,” you whisper softly to no one. “Whatever happens, happens.”
Your fingers tighten slightly around the test before you lift it.
And then you freeze.
Your eyes scan the result once.
Twice.
Three times.
Your heart doesn’t react right away—your mind refuses to catch up.
“…No.”
The word leaves your lips as a quiet breath, barely audible.
You lean forward, squinting at the window then the beautiful fixtures like maybe the light is wrong when that’s the furthest from the truth in this beautiful penthouse you and Jimin live in. Maybe you're reading it wrong. Your hands fumble slightly as you reach for the instruction pamphlet sitting on the counter, unfolding it with shaky fingers.
Two lines.
Two lines means—
You look back at the test.
The second line is faint, but it’s there. Clear enough that you can’t pretend it isn’t.
Your chest tightens suddenly.
“No… no, that—that’s not right–”
Your voice breaks off as your breath catches.
Your heart starts beating faster now, a nervous rhythm thudding against your ribs. You flip the test over in your hands, then back again, as if the answer might somehow change if you look at it from another angle.
It doesn’t.
The line is still there.
Your fingers start trembling.
“After all this time…?”
The words come out as a whisper, fragile and uncertain.
You stand up too quickly, pacing the small bathroom once, your thoughts spinning.
“Take another one, this one has to be wrong..”
Instinctively, you grab another test from the box under the sink, the last one left, and take it with rushed, clumsy movements.
Then you sit again.
Waiting feels impossible this time. You could hardly hold your composure.
Your leg bounces, your fingers twisting together while the seconds drag by. Your eyes keep drifting back to the first test sitting on the counter like it might disappear if you stop watching it.
Months of memories crowd your mind.
All the negative tests.
All the hopeful mornings that ended in quiet disappointment. All the nights cuddling Jimin and comforting one another may have not been…for nothing?
The times you told yourself not to get your hopes up.
The timer goes off again.
Your stomach flips instantly making you nauseous.
Slowly—almost fearfully—you reach for the second test.
Your hands shake so badly you almost drop it.
You look down.
And there it is.
Two lines.
Clearer this time.
Both lines, bold and pink. In your face.
For a moment, the world goes completely silent.
Your breath leaves you in a shaky exhale as your knees suddenly give out, and you sink down onto the cool bathroom floor without thinking. The tests remain clutched tightly in your hands while you stare at them like they’re something fragile… something unreal.
“I…”
Your throat tightens.
A laugh escapes you first—soft, disbelieving, almost breathless.
Then suddenly your vision blurs.
Tears spill down your cheeks before you can stop them.
“Oh my god…thank you, God”
Your voice cracks as the words finally sink in.
You press a hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking as the reality crashes into you all at once. All the months of trying, hoping, hurting—it all pours out in the form of quiet, overwhelmed sobs.
Your other hand curls protectively around your stomach without you even realizing it.
“Please,” you whisper through the tears, your voice trembling.
“Please stay. Don’t leave us this time..”
The room is still silent, but your heart feels louder than everything.
You sit there on the bathroom floor for a long time, clutching the tests like proof that this moment is real.
Every few seconds your eyes flick back down just to make sure.
Just to see those two lines again.
And again.
And again.
Because after so many times seeing only one… you’re still afraid to believe it.
So almost instantly, you scheduled an appointment, just to be sure as if two tests weren’t enough.
It’s taking everything out of you not to run and tell Jimin but you vowed to make this special for him too. This was taking a toll on him just as much as it was you. You needed to make sure first before opening up to him…you couldn’t face it if it was a misread or false alarm.
You had your mind set. As soon as you got the confirmation from the doctors, you were going to set up something special for your husband when he comes home from his trip to Japan.
~~~~~~~~~
The doctor’s office smells faintly of antiseptic and lavender air freshener.
You’ve been staring at the same spot on the wall for the last five minutes—the framed photo of a newborn wrapped in a pink blanket. The baby’s tiny hand is curled around someone’s finger.
Your leg bounces uncontrollably.
You press your palms together in your lap to stop it, but the nervous energy refuses to settle. Your heart has been racing since the nurse took the blood sample.
It feels ridiculous, almost.
You already saw the tests. Two of them.
But after everything… you needed someone to tell you it was real.
The door opens.
Your head lifts immediately.
The doctor steps in with a small tablet and a small packet in hand, offering you a gentle smile as they sit down on the rolling stool across from you.
You try to read their expression.
You’ve become good at that over the months—searching faces for hints before the words come.
Your fingers twist together.
“Well,” the doctor says softly, glancing at the screen for a moment.
Your stomach drops.
Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure they can hear it.
“Your results came back.”
Your throat tightens.
You nod quickly, unable to trust your voice.
The doctor looks back up at you.
And smiles.
“The test is positive. Congratulations.”
For a moment… nothing happens.
The words float in the air between you, simple and clear.
Positive.
Congratulations.
Your brain doesn’t catch up right away.
“…I am?” you ask quietly before you can stop yourself.
Your voice sounds small. Fragile.
The doctor’s smile widens a little.
“Yes,” they say gently. “You’re pregnant.”
The room goes completely silent.
Your chest rises with a shaky breath as the meaning finally settles in.
Pregnant.
Not maybe.
Not hopefully.
Not another faint line on a plastic test you’re afraid to trust.
Real.
Your vision blurs suddenly.
“Oh…”
The sound escapes you like the air has been knocked from your lungs.
You press a hand over your mouth as tears immediately fill your eyes.
Your shoulders shake once, twice, before a breathless laugh slips out with the tears.
“I—sorry,” you say quickly, wiping your face even though the tears keep coming. “I just…”
Your voice cracks.
“We’ve been trying for so long. I kind of wish he was here with me to hear this good news. He’s so excited to become a father.”
The doctor’s expression softens with understanding.
“That makes this moment even more special.”
Your hand slowly drifts down to your stomach without thinking.
It’s still the same.
Nothing feels different.
But suddenly your mind can’t stop repeating the same thought.
There’s a baby there.
Your baby.
You swallow hard.
“Everything looks okay… right?” you ask, the fear creeping back in despite the joy.
The doctor nods reassuringly.
“So far, everything looks exactly as it should.”
The tension you didn’t realize you were holding finally releases.
Your shoulders drop slightly as another quiet breath escapes you.
Relief floods through you so suddenly it almost makes you dizzy.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
The words feel too small for what you mean.
You thank them again before the appointment ends, clutching the printed paperwork and appointment card like they’re precious.
Because they are.
The moment you step outside the clinic, the cool air hits your face.
And suddenly it feels real all over again.
You sit in the driver’s seat of your car for a long moment, staring down at the small envelope the nurse handed you.
Inside is the confirmation paperwork.
Proof.
Your fingers rest against your stomach again.
“Hi,” you whisper softly, almost shyly.
The word makes you laugh quietly to yourself.
You wipe the last of your tears before starting the car.
There’s someone else who needs to know.
But not like this.
Not rushed.
Not through a phone call filled with shaky breathing.
Jimin deserves something special.
After everything you’ve both been through… he deserves a moment he’ll never forget.
Later that afternoon, your kitchen table is covered in small things.
A tiny white box.
Soft tissue paper.
And the smallest pair of baby socks you could find at the store.
They’re impossibly tiny. Seeing them in the store for the first time, you thought they were fake. Fighting the urge to buy every single thing available.
You hold them between your fingers, your chest tightening as emotion creeps up again.
“You’re going to be a dad,” you whisper quietly, imagining Jimin’s face when he realizes.
Your heart flutters at the thought.
You gently place the socks inside the box.
Then you add the pregnancy test—the second one you took that morning—and fold the doctor’s confirmation paper neatly beneath it.
For a moment, you just stare at it.
Your hands hover over the lid.
You suddenly feel nervous all over again.
What if he cries?
What if he doesn’t believe it at first?
What if he just stares the way you did?
A smile slowly spreads across your face.
You close the lid carefully.
Then tie a soft ribbon around the box.
By the time you place it on the table, your heart is beating just as fast as it did in the doctor’s office.
Except this time…
It’s excitement.
You glance toward the door, imagining the moment Jimin walks in.
Imagining the confusion on his face when you hand him the box.
Imagining the exact second it clicks.
Your hand drifts to your stomach again.
And this time, your smile is soft and full of wonder.
“Just wait until he finds out.”
But you’ll never see his reaction…
Because the night you were going to tell him, you heard something that made your stomach churn.
You walked in after a long day of celebrating with your friends when you noticed the small box still sitting on the table. You frowned softly as you walked over to pick it up.
“Maybe he was too tired to notice it and just wanted to head to bed.” you mumbled to yourself. You headed up the stairs when you heard faint voices that sounded like Jimin’s. Your heart began to race as you were seconds away from telling your husband that after almost a year of failed attempts, you were finally pregnant.
But when you opened the door…your heart almost stopped beating…
Jimin was looking up at a woman that you had never seen before with the biggest smile on his face. She was straddling his lap, moaning his name as her eyes closed in pleasure. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry but neither came out.
You dropped the little white box, loud enough to make them stop. Jimin’s eyes landed on your back as you fled the room. Jimin didn’t waste any time. He threw off the woman, quickly becoming a forgotten object as he jumped out of bed.
“Baby! B-babe! Wait!”
But you didn’t.
Your heart hammered against your chest as you prayed you were wrong. That you hadn’t walked into your husband having sex with another woman. His voice chased you down the hall, you didn’t dare look back. You just threw yourself into your car, still warm from earlier. You sped towards your friend’s place, she only lived a few minutes away.
Jimin didn’t catch you in time. Breathless, he returned to the bedroom, tripping over the white box with its contents scattered across the floor. He frowned softly as he crouched down to get a closer look.
“What…wh-what is this?” he asked no one as he took the paperwork into his hands followed by the little tiny socks. “She’s…she’s pregnant? No…no no no no”
The realization hit him like a physical blow, making him sick to his stomach. He was seconds from throwing up but by the grace of God he was able to hold it back. Behind him, the woman appears with a pout. She leans down and kisses his temple softly, disregarding his troubled state.
“Do you need me, baby?” she asked, trailing her finger down his arm. He pushed her off, no longer caring about her wellbeing as all he could think about was finding you.
“Leave…you have no purpose anymore.”
She tried to protest, they always did but Jimin didn’t care he ignored her, retreating to his study to retrieve his phone. He called you non-stop but you refused to answer. Maybe you were still driving, you never answered the phone when you were driving, it was a safety measure that you always took. He’d imagine that you’d be even more protective since you were carrying his kid. He stared at his screen before his shaky hands began to type.
“Princess, I’m sorry…I’m so sorry. Please come back. Please let me explain everything.”
You sat outside of your friend’s house. You made no attempts to call her or text her. You didn’t even know what to say. Just a few hours ago you were here celebrating your positive pregnancy test and now you are back about to tell her that you found Jimin cheating on you.
You couldn’t stop crying despite telling yourself that you needed to calm down for the baby.
“You have to get it together…for the baby..”
The baby you and your husband prayed so hard for.
The baby Jimin cried for.
The baby you cried for.
You looked down at your phone with teary eyes before finally texting back.
“How could you do something like that to me? I gave you all of me…everything..and you go and cheat on me? I never want to see you again..”
Jimin’s chest tightened as he read your message, his jaw clenching so hard it ached. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. The words “I never want to see you again” burned into his retinas, replaying over and over in his mind.
He immediately typed back, his fingers trembling against the screen. There was no way on Earth he was going to lose his wife and child all in one night.
“She meant nothing, nothing at all yn. It meant nothing. NOTHING. You are the love of my life and you are carrying my beautiful child. I love you. I don’t want this for us. I know there’s nothing I can say right now that won’t sound disgusting after what I did… but please don’t shut me out.”
He hit send as he kicked his desk angrily before pacing his study like a caged animal, all the awards and trophies he had there rattling. Jimin couldn’t wait for you to respond, he texted you again.
“I’m coming to get you. We’re going to talk face to face about this, not behind a screen. You can’t leave me, not now, not ever.”
His possessiveness bled through every word, the entitlement he would sometimes carry twisted into something more desperate, fear. Fear of losing the one thing in this entire world that made him happy without too many expectations, the one thing he cared more about than the life he had built.
He grabbed his car keys and jacket, his hooded dark eyes blazing with determination and barely contained emotion, rage, not at you but at himself for letting this spiral out of control.
Summary | Welcome to Club La Rouge, where your sexual fantasies come to life.
Accepting his offer might cause inconveniences for both of you, but do you really have it in you to say no?
⟶ Title | Nefarious; In Motion - a side story
⟶ Pairings | Jimin x female reader (with POV changes)
⟶ Genre | Sex Club!au, Gentlemen Club!au, Club host/escort! Jimin, Smut
⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; scenes of nudity, male strippers, usage of alcohol (minor, no drunk sex), D/s dynamic, contains strong BDSM content!, explicit sexual scene, including: mentions of voyeurism, exhibitionism, mention of masturbation/mutual masturbation, brief depiction of deepthroating, praise/praise kink, pain kink, Dom!Jimin, sub!reader, pet names/endearment, sensory play, bondage/restraint, spanking, pussy slapping, punishments, clamps/nipple clamps, biting, sex toys, body worshipping, breast play, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), clit play, edging, begging, crying, orgasm denial, orgasm control, forced orgasm, hair pulling, rough sex, manhandling, ass play/rimming, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, brief depiction of reader/OC entering a headspace, aftercare.
⟶ Story Note | While this story is connected directly to the original plot of In Motion, this story can be read as a standalone. For those who are reading In Motion, the scenes in this piece may take place in a similar timeline as the main story (after the epilogue). Thank you for @pars-ley and @lo1k-diamonds for helping with beta reading parts of this. Special thanks to @cafekitsune for the mdni divider.
⟶ Author’s Note | I’ve been planning this story for a while, ever since Jimin appeared at the final chapters of In Motion and then again in The Dark Room, but it took a whole year for me to finish this one. I initially wanted to publish this to celebrate my birthday and Jimin’s last October, but a lot of things happened since then and this story ended up being postponed for a long time. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this story, whether or not you have read the entire In Motion instalment. Additional warning: please remember to hydrate while reading!
⟶ Word count | 39,246 words
⟶ Posted on: Jan 10th, 2025 by @yoonia
⟶ In Motion: the masterlist | Music playlist and visual concept | Read on AO3
⟶ Main masterlist | Navigation | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi
𝕮𝖑𝖚𝖇 𝕷𝖆 𝕽𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊
Welcome to our establishment. Let us introduce our little treat for you to indulge in—
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦
𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬
Your host and personal contact will notify you personally to confirm your appointment for your private session, according to the prearrangement made on the night of registration or during the session schedule’s booking. You must confirm your availability within one hour of the arranged schedule. If the attendee fails to confirm their availability on time, then the opportunity to join the session will be passed on to the next club member on the waiting list who fits the same preferences.
During the arrangement of your private session, please remember to confirm your preferences or individual requirements needed for your session with your host. The host will use your details to find the perfect partner among exclusive members of the club to pair you with during your session.
Both your identity and your potential partner’s will remain anonymous until the session begins, and you are required to maintain your anonymity throughout the entire session held within the property of Club La Rouge.
Once you are escorted into the allocated room for your arranged session, you will have free rein to use the room however you deem appropriate for your session. The timer will be set starting from the moment the ambience lights within the room are turned on. Both attendees are allowed to utilise the provided tools and necessities presented inside the room. Any personal items taken from outside of the club will not be allowed inside the Play Room and will be confiscated immediately if discovered by the hosts.
You may discuss your choice of safe words with your partner once you are in the room or before the session officially begins. Please remember to notify your selection of safe words and passwords to your host once you are set to begin. The hosts will only open the doors once the session officially ends or whenever the safe word is announced by an attendee.
The hosts will have the authority to stop the session if the safety of either attendee is compromised. An alert button will be available in the room to be utilised by either attendee when they feel unsafe during the session and the safe word is unable to be used. Once the alert button is used, the host will cease the session and take over to secure the attendee in question.
If any violation of the rules above occurs within the session, the attendee in question will be escorted out of the premises and their name will be added to our blacklist.
Any other mutual arrangements that may occur after the arranged session will no longer be our concern.
—You—
Your chest feels constricted.
Never once have you felt this kind of humiliation before. Let alone experiencing it in a place like this.
Club La Rouge has been known as a prestigious club that takes good care of its members. Ever since you joined them a year ago, you have been experiencing first-hand just how well the club takes the matters of your needs and pleasure as their priority. Never once had they ever failed to help satiate your desire with their service.
Until tonight.
As a club that aspires to bring people’s most sinful wishes and dreams to reality, Club La Rouge has never left you feeling disappointed. This is the reason why you have been coming back here, relying on them to channel your hidden desires. To provide you with a chance and a safe space where you can freely explore them without having to reveal your secrets to the world.
That was the reason why you had arranged for a special session tonight in your favourite venture—the Play Room.
You needed an escape. A relief from your strenuous life, and being here, making use of the club’s benefits such as the Play Room as an avenue to express yourself in a fashion that you would never dare to do in real life, has been helping you to live out your fantasy in the best possible way one could imagine. So far, you have been quite lucky to be able to venture and live out your fantasy through the sessions that you have had in the club.
So the moment your plans turn into a complete mess, you cannot help but wonder if you have finally run out of luck. Because there is no possible way that the first time the club makes a mistake like this, it just has to happen on the night you come for an arrangement which you have been anticipating the most.
“I am terribly sorry. This is truly our fault.”
You bite back any response waiting to escape your lips. Frustrated and annoyed would be an understatement. The female host’s apology and simple explanation do little to help when you are standing here with your hopes crumbling to pieces.
The poor girl working on the concierge desk also looks too pitiful—so obvious that not even her lacy mask can hide it—that you have no idea what to say. Would it be fair for you to be angry at her about this? Would it be right to file a complaint or ask to see their manager?
Is the manager even available tonight? He should be. He is your host and sponsor, after all.
You look around, hoping to see the familiar figure that has always been there ever since the first day you became a member of the club. The club doesn’t look as busy as usual—which isn’t surprising for a weeknight—and the female host seems to be the only one handling the registration tonight. It makes you doubt that he would be here tonight at all.
In the end, the only thing you can do is exhale a deep, heavy sigh and close your eyes, forcing yourself to find some calmness rather than making a scene out of nothing. You just need a moment to wrap your mind around the situation that you just found yourself in.
“Let me get this straight. What you’re saying is—” you keep your voice calm and steady as you try to understand the situation better, “Not only did the person you set me up with for tonight’s session cancel their RSVP at the last minute, the person who was supposed to be next in line and was said to also fit my criteria was also a no-show?”
There is a bite in your voice that you cannot control. You still refuse to believe that your potential partner—who was personally chosen by the club—had completely bailed on you. Possibly because of hearing the details of your request.
As much as you want to deny this awful situation from happening, putting the situation into words only makes it more real. Looking at the hostess’s fearful eyes that her delicate mask has failed to hide doesn’t take away the bitterness you feel inside.
The female host opens her mouth, then shuts down before she says anything, while looking more nervous as the seconds tick by. You almost feel guilty for inciting this kind of reaction from her. Almost. But you are too angry to care, and if you are being honest, you are looking for a scapegoat. If those cowards aren’t here to be on the receiving end of your wrath, then the person who is now standing before you can take it on their behalf.
“I’m afraid that is quite correct. Well—partially,” she slowly explains, while her voice grows smaller when she sees you raising your eyebrow. “As I previously mentioned, a part of this incident may have been our fault.”
You shake your head. “Please explain to me so I can understand.”
The hostess nods before she begins explaining the process that occurred after you phoned your host—her manager—this morning about opening a private session in the Play Room. Once you have given him your specifics, including your special request and requirements for your session tonight, it was your main host’s duty to relay the details, while the club’s system filtered through the club members’ list to find someone who would fit your criteria and would be available for the night.
“We’ve contacted your first potential partner within the hour your request came in, who immediately RSVP’d his availability for tonight's session. But then he cancelled in the afternoon, claiming that he wasn’t able to join the session as he felt it was—” the hostess looks uncomfortable as she continues, “something that he wasn’t looking to get into for the time being.”
You let out a scoff. “Ah, so the poor man got cold feet once he learned about the details I requested for the appointment?”
Speaking it out loud only makes you want to laugh even harder. It’s not like you gave an outlandish request when you made your appointment. Many others have even more peculiar sexual fetishisms to play around with in the Play Room—like those involving fetishes by worshipping certain body parts or using inanimate objects to pleasure themselves with, such as food and other inanimate objects—so hearing such reasons to cancel an appointment seems laughable.
“I still don’t see how that would be your fault.”
The only thing that you could think of regarding the situation is that either the club had chosen the wrong club member as your partner, misreading his personal preferences as something that matched your own, or the man had lied about his details in his registration form so that the club had mistakenly thought he would be the perfect match for you.
“What about the other one? The—replacement?”
“Well, you see—” The hostess stops to clear her throat before explaining the situation further, “Once we received the cancellation from your original partner, our system immediately proceeded to find the next person in our list that would fit the criteria to be your potential partner in tonight’s session, and then pass on the invitation through his personal host who will then help us confirm his availability.”
With a deep inhale of breath, the hostess continues, “The problem was, that once the host failed to contact the appointed member through a phone call, they had proceeded to contact him through email. The system was supposed to wait until the member sent in their RSVP or replied back to let us know that he would be available for the night, and only then would the host in charge pass on the information and have the club arrange the session with both of you as partners.”
“Let me guess, that’s where everything went south?”
The hostess gives you a remorseful smile. “Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened,” she explains gently. “Our system had mistakenly confirmed his attendance and RSVP’d on his behalf before we ever truly received any direct response from the club member regarding his availability for tonight’s session. The staff who handled the arrangement never thought to double-check with the system or the hosts who were responsible as both yours and the other member’s contacts before contacting you to inform you that we have found a partner for you.”
You feel like ripping your hair out in frustration or pinching the bridge of your nose to calm yourself, except that you had spent hours fixing your hair that it would be such a waste to mess it with your own hands, while you also have a thick, lacy mask covering your face which you aren’t supposed to take off for the rest of the night.
Feeling like there is no hope, you let a bitter laugh escape from your lips. “So I suppose I should just go home now?”
— Jimin —
As your personal host and direct contact who is responsible for being the mediator between you and Club La Rouge, Jimin should have been there at the concierge desk to welcome you for your appointment. It was by chance that he had just stepped away from his counter to have a short break when his phone pinged with a notification, alerting him of your early arrival after your membership card was scanned at the front desk.
Jimin had been the one to set up the appointment and prepared the Play Room for your session himself, so he should be the one welcoming you and then escorting you to the room himself. But he has his own reasons to step away and find some space before coming to face you.
After handling your previous sessions over the year you have become a member, Jimin knew to expect something new added to your request when you called in to arrange a session in the Play Room. You have always been curious, after all. Always quite adventurous when it comes to channeling your sexual desires, in finding out new ways to express your sexuality while trying to find what works for you and what the club might be able to provide in your sexual explorations.
But your request had been an unexpected one that caught him by surprise upon hearing it the first time. Jimin even had to confirm it with you repeatedly on the phone call you made this morning to make sure, nearly causing you to laugh at his reaction.
Your requirements hadn’t been an extraordinary one. Not by the club’s standard, at least, as Jimin had witnessed and arranged many others that made him appreciate the club’s policy of upholding its member’s secrecy and discretion. Yet, your request was enough to bring out an old itch that is begging for a scratch.
That was why he felt the need to get away, to regain his composure before facing you. Before his thoughts—everything that he deemed forbidden to even think about as one of the club’s representatives to an esteemed member of the club—gets in the way of his duties.
Not being there when you first arrived is one thing that he feels regretful of the most. Then he regrets it even more when he rushes back, just in time to find out about the predicament that you are met with at the concierge desk.
Jimin hears enough and curses under his breath, realising what had happened and understanding where things might have gone wrong. He knows exactly who—or what—to blame.
He, of all people, should have known better than to rely simply on the club’s automated system to handle these things.
Back then, Jimin and the other hosts had done things manually; from matching the club members with the right partners for each scheduled appointment, arranging the private sessions and the exclusive events, to scouting potential members and finding the perfect benefit that would help them find pleasure so they would keep returning to the club to gain more.
Over the past few years, however, the club has grown substantially. With more members joining, and new ventures and benefits to offer being added, the hosts have become so overwhelmed with overlapping duties. It then prompted the owners to introduce the new system to assist the hosts in handling the club’s business.
So far, the automated system has been working well enough without causing trouble for the hosts. It has been making things easy when it comes to matching up club members as partners for closed and private sessions held in the club’s special rooms, and dealing with last-minute cancellations—just like the situation that you are currently in. Although it doesn’t take away the hosts’ responsibilities in making sure that things remain in order.
That was what he was supposed to do with your appointment tonight; to double check on the booking process and follow up with both the system and the hosts involved to make sure that things will go on smoothly. He is your main host, after all, and it is his responsibility to keep you satisfied with the club’s service in tending to your needs. He shouldn’t have relied solely on the computers and the other hosts to handle your arrangement.
“So I suppose I should just go home now?”
Your voice echoes through the hallway as Jimin begins approaching you. Hearing the bite in your voice, he feels a tight pinch in his chest, as he feels as if he has failed you.
Jimin knows that he shouldn’t care this much for a member of the club, and yet he cannot stop himself.
It would be a complete lie to say that he doesn’t have a soft spot for you. Jimin has no idea if what he feels is some kind of attraction, or simply amusement. Whatever it is, he cannot deny that he enjoys every moment he hosts your presence at the club. He even finds pleasure in fulfilling your various requests each time you call in for an appointment with the club, always guessing what would be the next thing you want to try or learn, and matching you with the right person among other club members to fulfil your needs.
And that is why the idea of sending you home without giving you exactly what you needed tonight seems preposterous.
Determined to fix everything for you, Jimin secures his mask and fixes his suit, getting himself in order as he joins you at the concierge desk.
“Good evening, Miss ____,” he gently greets you with a smile, and he takes great pleasure in seeing your shoulders slumping in relief at the sound of his voice. Your gaze softens even before you turn to look at him, which makes his smile grow wider.
There is always a tender look in your eyes whenever you see him. Oftentimes mixed with a tinge of amusement or absolute joy. Jimin knows that he shouldn’t read too much into it, but he would be lying if he ever said that he doesn’t enjoy seeing it coming from you.
“Let me take it from here, Saki. Thank you for covering for me while I was gone. You’ve done well,” Jimin says to the female host who had taken over Jimin’s station in his absence. He feels guilty for placing her in such a predicament when it wasn’t even her responsibility to handle this kind of situation. The barely-concealed sigh of relief that Jimin sees from the poor girl drives that guilt sinking deeper in his chest.
With a nod, Saki turns to apologise to you one last time before making her way to the back office. Jimin waits until the girl is out of sight before he speaks,
“I’m sorry I missed you. I had to step out for a moment,” he finds himself explaining before he can stop it. “I just heard what happened to your dates. I apologise for such an unpleasant evening. As your host, I will personally take full responsibility for this mistake.”
Jimin holds back a wince, even if he truly means it. He really does feel responsible for allowing this to happen, yet you seem to think differently when you immediately shake your head. “No, there is no need to go that far. Bad things like this can happen to anyone,” you kindly say to him, though Jimin isn’t quite sure if you are trying to appease him or convince yourself.
Because the disappointment you feel is still clear in your voice, also in your eyes, and in the deep sigh coming out of your lips when you murmur under your breath, “Unfortunately, it was just my pure luck that this had to happen to me.”
Clenching his hands, Jimin holds back from reaching out to you and musters a smile. “Once again, I would like to apologise on behalf of the club and the staff. Why don’t you take a seat in the waiting area for a moment?” he offers you while gesturing towards the small lounge nearby, “I’ll see if I can arrange something so your visit tonight won’t be such a waste.”
You look sceptical for a moment, which Jimin can understand. Even with the advanced system, it would be impossible for Jimin to scout through the available male members of the club to find anyone who would be able to fill in as your partner tonight, much less to send a sudden invitation for a late-night private session. But, to his relief, you ask no more questions and agree to let him do his work.
Jimin guides you himself to the small waiting lounge; a private space near his station which is often used for guests who are waiting for their turn to use the special rooms. Once you are settled, Jimin rushes back to his desk with your membership card in hand, hoping that he can somehow find a way to salvage the night for you.
It’s for the sake of the club’s reputation, he tries to remind himself, as he keeps forcing him to remember that he needs to solve this for the club’s interest, not a personal favour.
It doesn’t take more than five minutes for Jimin to find everything he needs. First, by confirming Saki’s statement about the other staff’s mistakes and how the automated matchmaking system had screwed everyone over. Second, to confirm his suspicions about not being able to fix it the way he wanted.
But that doesn’t stop him from trying to make things right.
He spends another five minutes on his computer to find the right solution before joining you in the waiting area. “As my assistant, Saki, explained, the club member that the system had listed as your substitute partner for the night never RSVP’d back to our invitation to join tonight’s private session that you requested. The member’s personal contact should have done her due diligence in making sure that he was available to attend before contacting the staff handling your reservation, and I should have followed up with the process before updating you,” he gently explains, “The fault is entirely ours. On behalf of the club, and for my own mistakes, I would like to apologise.”
Once again, a look of defeat is written on your face, and Jimin’s heart plummets with more guilt. To his surprise, you still manage to put a smile on your face when you respond, “It’s fine. I guess things aren’t meant to be.”
If Jimin felt doubtful about his insistence in helping you, that feeling fades the moment he catches the resigned sigh escaping your lips.
Hearing this, and feeling the tightness in his chest, he realises that not only is he constantly drawn to you whenever you are near—when you are in the same room, same space, or simply present somewhere in the club’s property while he is working in the hour—he also has been feeling quite protective of you.
Just like how he is adamant about helping you tonight, he has always been more attentive to your needs. Oftentimes, he would find himself getting reckless, involving himself in your deals and arrangements with the club in channelling your raw desire.
Jimin has long realised how unhealthy this was becoming. When knowing the kinds of sexual exploits that you have been seeking through the club so far has only caused him to be on the edge each time you return for new arrangements, always making him wary about the risks you would be taking as you enter one of these sex rooms with these other guests that the club had chosen for you.
Complete strangers hiding behind intricately designed masks and anonymity as they share a private moment with you behind these closed doors.
Jimin hates to admit it, but aside from the sinking feeling of guilt, he also feels somewhat relieved that your private session was unsuccessful tonight.
If only your appointed partner had shown up, Jimin would have been the one sending you off to your room by now, and then left wondering if your partner would be doing a good job in fulfilling your needs, instead of sitting here with you, enjoying this little chat while admiring your smile—albeit not as radiant and alluring as it usually does.
“Still, it doesn’t mean that your night needs to end now,” he says, which draws another sceptical look from you.
Still, he manages to also draw a small, warmer smile showing on your face when you question him, “Oh, really? How so?”
Jimin returns your smile as he leans closer, holding your membership card between his fingers. “Because I’ve made sure that you’ll have a way to enjoy the rest of the evening instead of returning home.”
His smile grows wider when your curiosity grows, and it shows perfectly from the way your eyes grow wide from under your mask. Before you can question him further, Jimin continues to explain, “To make up for our error, I’ve upgraded your membership status and programmed a few special offers on your card, which you are eligible to claim tonight if you wish to enjoy them.”
“An upgrade?” you ask, “and what kind of special offers are you talking about?”
Jimin throws you a smug smile. “I prefer to call it a peace offering, since it would be quite a disadvantage if tonight’s misfortune changes the way you perceive the club.”
When your smile returns, so does the light in your eyes. “I’m listening.”
“Instead of simply cancelling your appointment for tonight’s session, I switched the specifics of your appointment to have it listed as an open session which you can claim anytime you want. There will be no extra charge if you decide to have it as an extra from your monthly quota of free sessions,” Jimin explains, “The upgrade has also given you new privileges that only our exclusive members are eligible to claim.”
You make a humming sound as if you are considering your options. But Jimin can tell that he is slowly getting you swayed. “You might want to remind me of these, um—” You come to a brief pause, then start shaking your head as if trying to not get ahead of yourself or too excited over this sudden development, “Remind me again about these privileges that I am now entitled with.”
Jimin bites back a smile as he watches you crossing your arms over your chest, challenging him while trying your best to rein in your enthusiasm.
“I am sure that you’ve read through the club’s rulebook that we sent you after you first joined us and learned about the club’s benefits—from our special rooms, events, and other services that the club offers,” Jimin says, to which you nod. “Your current—or should we say, your previous membership status, only allows a limited quota for accessing our sex rooms each month. With this new upgrade, not only will you be given the same privileges as our exclusive members, such as access to more sex rooms, and chances to book more appointments each month, but you will also receive invitations to our special events.”
Your eyes grow wide, and this time, Jimin is the one who has to force himself to hide his excitement. As your host, Jimin has suspected that you may have been regretting your choice to join as a regular member of the club instead of upgrading it.
With your current membership status, you have only been able to book two sessions and only one type of sex room to access each month, without being able to switch between rooms to be able to fully experience them—just like how you have only been able to book the Play Room for the past few months, and before that, the Viewing Room. As for the club’s special events, unless there was a special event being held in the club that is open for public guests, you wouldn't be receiving any invitation to join the festivities.
Now, all of that’s going to change. The upgrade that Jimin has gifted you will allow you to experience all the benefits that the club offers its members—from getting the opportunity to try out more rooms, book more sessions, and join more parties.
There is no doubt in Jimin’s mind that you would have been able to appreciate these benefits to your heart’s content, and for some reason, the thought of being able to give you such luxury pleases him dearly.
“I will be sending you the new rulebook that will explain the details about these privileges more thoroughly once the upgrade is officially applied to your membership account. In arranging future sessions, the basic procedure remains the same. I am still your personal contact with the club, so you can call or email me anytime you are interested in booking a room or a session, or if you want to venture out to the club’s other services which you want to try. Just give me all the details, your request for a partner to match you with, and the time you wish to come, and I’ll arrange everything.”
You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it by saying, “The next time you call for an appointment, I will personally handle everything myself to make sure that things are in order.”
Your gaze softens, and so does your smile. But there is something in your eyes that warms Jimin in the chest. The look of trust. It makes him happy knowing that he has earned it, especially coming from you.
“Exclusive privileges, hmmm?” you ask him with a playful scoff, though there is a glint in your eyes that seems more honest.
Excitement. With the familiar tinge of lust.
Jimin can only guess what goes on inside that pretty little head of yours at the promise of trying more new things under the club’s space. “Sounds tempting. I look forward to learning more about them.”
Exhaling a sigh of relief, Jimin continues, “For the rest of the evening, you are free to use the Entertainment Room to wind down. As a special treat, I added an extra drink over the two drinks a night limit.” Jimin leans closer. “Just for you,” he adds with a wink, and takes pleasure in the way your eyes are lowered when a shy smile appears on your face.
“In exchange for your cancelled appointment, I’ve given you free access to join any of the Viewing Rooms tonight, since I know that you still favour those rooms. But you can also switch to any other sex room to your liking if you are interested in trying your new privileges right away,” he says, grinning as he sees you sitting up straight. “Just let me know which new benefit you would like to engage with before you end the night, and I’ll have everything set for you. As long as they are available for an impromptu visit.”
Jimin holds back the chuckle rising in his chest as he sees you twitching in your seat. He wishes so badly to see what is going through your head right now. He can imagine you venturing through the rooms tonight out of curiosity, and he surprises himself when he feels a semblance of possessiveness when he thinks about you enjoying your night on your own, while knowing what your new privileges can offer.
Swallowing his emotions, Jimin continues, focusing on the present instead of wondering about the things that have yet to happen.
“Why don’t you take your time? Have some drinks while you process this and decide how you’re going to enjoy the rest of your night. I’m sure the exotic dancers performing in the Entertainment Room tonight will be quite helpful in getting your mind away from all the stress,” he offers you when he notices you thinking deeply about your options. It was clear to Jimin that you had felt dejected enough to even consider going home, forget everything, even perhaps to leave the club altogether out of this one bad experience. And that is the last thing that Jimin wants right now.
At the mention of exotic dancers, your eyes light up, coaxing Jimin to lean in and tease you, “Although, I must say, that I am fairly sure those dancers might not be as entertaining as I would have been.”
To his pleasure, his comment manages to draw not only a genuine smile from you, but also makes you laugh for the first time tonight.
Your laugh is full of surprise and it does something crazy to Jimin. A flush of warmth runs down his body. This rarely happens, which only surprises him more. Never once has he ever been affected by someone this much. To have it coming from a client, a guest of the club that he is responsible for as a host, is even more unexpected.
Yet he welcomes the feeling. Especially when he gets to see your smile even more.
“I’m sure you’re right about that,” you softly tease him with a soft chuckle slipping out of your lips.
“Now that I’ve explained how much this card is now worth with the upgrade, it will be best that you hold on to it,” Jimin says as he returns your membership card. His eyes remain on your dainty fingers as you retrieve the card from his hand. The greedy part of him wishes that he could stay in this moment a bit longer, or to find some reason to touch your skin.
Yet he brushes away his thoughts before they can go any further.
“Thank you. I was so sure that this night would be such a waste. This past week has been—a lot. And today at work had been the worst, which was the reason why I called you the first chance I got to arrange a session so I could destress.” You exhale a heavy sigh, the sound bringing back the tightness in his chest. Yet he can tell that the heaviness of your distress is no longer present, much to Jimin’s relief.
Your eyes fall on the card in your hand and a sound of disbelief comes out of your lips. “I can’t believe you went above and beyond just to make up for all of this.”
Jimin’s chest seems to expand with pride at your words. “It’s my duty as your host to make sure that you are satisfied with the club’s services.” You lift your gaze to meet his when he gently adds, “I meant it when I said it was my responsibility to make up for your failed night. But most of all, I’m also doing this personally for my own pleasure. Anything to please you.”
— You —
Words fail you as your fingers brush against Jimin’s the moment you reach out to retrieve the membership card back from him.
You have always found it so odd the way your heart would always flutter each time you were close to him. You have always felt at ease whenever he was around—just like that eventful evening just last year when you came to the club and met him for the first time, his smooth talking giving you the artful reassurance that you needed to be confident enough to apply for membership even before you finished your first drink.
Tonight, specifically, Jimin has managed to calm you down without having to do much. Just his voice alone was already enough to give your mind some semblance of solace after having to deal with the drama regarding your unsuccessful appointment. And then he goes to such lengths to make up for the mishap that didn’t seem to be entirely his fault.
It shouldn’t make you feel things, being treated with this much care. It shouldn’t bring up the flutters threatening to grow stronger in your chest.
How pathetic does it make you to feel something like this just because someone is being nice to you? Have you been so deprived of such kindness and affection that this simple gesture—one that a host of the club does to appease you—makes you feel spoiled and, perhaps, appreciated?
After the day you had, however, where you felt as if the entire world was closing in on you, it shouldn’t be a surprise for you to feel this way. If only you hadn’t felt so tired and frustrated, you might even have tears in your eyes. They would be tears of gratitude and relief. Which no doubt would only make Jimin worry even more.
“I think I might need that drink, after all,” you murmur with a chuckle, mostly to yourself than to Jimin.
To his credit, Jimin says nothing about how desolated your voice comes out. He simply takes your hand and helps you rise from your seat, once again triggering that flutter in your chest with his warm touch.
“I’ll have Saki escort you to the Entertainment Room. I hope spending some time there might help you feel a bit better, even if you decide to call it a night after a few drinks. But I’ll be here to guide you if you ever decide to venture out and indulge in your new benefits as a new exclusive member,” he says with a grin that is infectious that you cannot help but smile along with him.
Your moment together ends too soon as you arrive back at the concierge desk, where his assistant, Saki, is waiting. You shouldn’t feel so dejected for having your time with him cut short, but it’s hard to ignore it. Being with Jimin feels so calming. His eyes are warm, even when they are partly hidden under his golden lace mask, and his smile—which often seems cunning—makes you feel safe when you are with him.
Shaking your head, you remind yourself that the only reason why Jimin is so kind to you is because of his duty. This is his job. As a host, it would be his responsibility to keep his guests—his customers—happy, and that includes you.
“Thank you, Jimin.”
He nods. “I hope you’ll have a better evening.”
“Your drink.”
A glass of red liquid—Manhattan, dry—manifests right in front of your eyes, drawing your attention away from the lewd scenes that are being displayed in the room. The glass lands with a soft thud on your table. Glancing up, you see the staff who brought it over to you; a tall man with broad shoulders, wearing nothing but a tight vest which shows his perfectly toned muscles, his skin bare, with no shirt beneath. His mask is made up of semi-transparent black lace which mostly covers his eyes and the bridge of his nose, though not enough to cover the glint in his gaze as he lingers by you for a moment longer than necessary.
“Can I provide you with anything else?”
From his smile, you can tell that behind the alluring mask, he must be an attractive man—just like all the other staff, escorts, and hosts working in the club.
From his gestures and the way he speaks, it’s clear that he is openly flirting with you. It is quite flattering, if only you don’t consider the fact that this is a part of his job as a waiter and escort; to tend to the guests and wait on their table, oftentimes keeping them company when they need one while they are in the room.
He doesn’t have to say out loud that he is subtly offering you that said company. You can see it in his pretty smile, yet it doesn’t seem to pull at your heart enough to invite him to join you. Not even for a single drink.
So you put a smile on your face to return his inviting grin and politely wave him off. “Thank you. This is all I need for now,” you coyly say, before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to play along a little just to have fun, “but you can ask me again when I order my second drink.”
The masked staff winks at you before he leaves, promising to return when you are ready for your second order.
Biting your smile, you watch as the masked escort walks away, weaving through the lines of loveseats with his tray in hand as he makes his way back to the bar. Left alone, you take a slow sip from your drink, allowing it to help cool you down and wash away any bitterness that still lingers with the unexpected turn of your planned evening.
Closing your eyes briefly, you savour the buzz from your drink as it rushes through your body. The soft and sultry tune of the music playing in the room helps set the mood. Not only to help all guests relax and enjoy the moment, but also to draw out any wanton desire that is still lying dormant right before the guests begin to venture deeper into the club to enjoy the special treats provided in the other rooms.
Your eyes trail towards the nearest glass box where a male dancer is swaying with the beat. Aside from the pair of high leather boots he is wearing on his feet and the black leather mask covering half of his face, the dancer simply has tight black briefs covering his crotch. Pressed sinfully into his skin, the fabric looks like a smooth leather. It leaves little to almost nothing to everyone’s imagination as the fabric barely covers much of his skin.
And it hangs low on his hips.
Extremely low.
Low enough that you can see the triangular line leading down towards his evident bulge.
As the dancer moves, the chiselled muscles on his chest and limbs seem to ripple with every movement he makes. Each line of muscles keeps getting highlighted under the spotlight illuminating his private box stage as he rolls his body to the music, his skin glistening with sweat and what appears to be a thin layer of oil.
Hungry eyes are locked on him. You can tell that many of his audience are hoping that he would end his show by tearing those tight briefs off as manicured fingernails keep reaching up to try and have a touch.
A wanton fantasy that may never happen.
Not in this club, and not in the room which is open to the public and set simply as a place of transit for the guests.
Club La Rouge has always had its strict rules, binding all the staff and guests alike to make sure that things remain in order while keeping everyone safe and satisfied under its roof.
Specifically for the Entertainment Room, there are a few rules that everyone must follow; no complete nudity, not between the escorts and the guests who are present, not even for the exotic dancers on the stage; the well-known two drinks limit for the guests, placed to make sure that everyone who is involved in the sex rooms remain sober; no physical contact; and no fraternising, as escorts and dancers are off-limits for the guests to invite into the rooms, although they are allowed to keep the guests’ company while they are in this room, simply to talk and and flirt and drink with them until their time is up; and many other rules which have been placed to maintain both the anonymity and safety of everyone involved in the club’s business, while keeping its reputation intact.
There is a reason why these guests around you—the attendees, as the club would call them—hide their faces behind carefully designed masks. A lot of these guests are important and well-known people out in the real world; businessmen, politicians, celebrities. Anyone who wanted to find an escape, a place to channel their darkest desires, to seek pure pleasure without the risk of people judging or outing them in public.
They all pay good money to have a good time, to find pleasure, something that the club has to offer. In return, the club simply asks everyone to follow their rules to keep everything in order.
Yet, even with the rules and limitations in place, this room still serves its purpose of entertaining its guests. The scantily clad escorts and passing servers are the perfect eye candy for the guests, and they are both friendly and flirty, providing some level of comfort for the guests so they can relax and enjoy their time.
And then there are the performers, the exotic dancers filling the stage and the small boxes that have been set between the seats. All of them dancing and swaying to the music seductively, their movements so mesmerising that most guests find it hard to look away.
Just like how your eyes continue to find their way to the same dancer that you have been admiring, his actions draw your attention back to him no matter how hard you try to look away.
The male dancer brings his arms up, crossing them behind his head as he begins gyrating his hips forward. His eyes are locked down, aimed towards the female guest sitting right in front of the box; an older woman who is dressed elegantly, yet daring, with her wrap dress coloured in dark purple, a similar colour to her mask, the cleavage sinking deeply at the front to show a generous view of her ample bosoms. Her auburn hair is styled up in a messy bun, with a pair of golden hair clips pinned on the side of her head to keep the strands in place.
You cannot see her face from this angle, yet you can see her painted nails trailing up and down the flute glass of champagne that she has been nursing since she sat there, showing you that she is indeed enjoying the show while having her mind wandering to another place where she could be free with her own raw desire, possibly with said male dancer as the other character in her fantasy.
The dancer comes down to one knee and continues rocking his hips. The female guest leans back in her seat, making it seem as if she is receiving a personal lap dance from the dancer, and you wonder if this is a part of her fantasy that he is giving her.
A fantasy. That is all that these entertainers are offering for the guests sitting in the Entertainment Room. Anything that may entice any guests’ sexual desire without actually engaging with them directly.
But there are still other ways for the guests to indulge in that fantasy, and for these escorts and performers to indulge in sexual pleasure without breaking the rules. You look around, biting your lips when you consider that sometime tonight, one of these escorts and dancers will be performing something else for the guests.
In the Viewing Room, a different kind of entertainment is presented for the guests, drawing those who are into specific types of kink, including some of the most perverse kinds of sexual pleasure; exhibitionism, voyeurism, and similar others.
Within those rooms, a similar setting to what you have now can be found, except on a smaller scale. Sets of loveseats and high-back chairs set in lines around small, solo stages or in front of a massive glass wall separating the room from another, except that instead of stripper poles and stage lights, you will find a whole different setup to support the performances; from small beds and three-seated leather sofas to the distinct setup, like bondage benches and St. Andrews cross standing at the center stage. Everything that is needed for the masked escorts, both males and females, to engage in their sexual exploitation in front of a public audience.
Oftentimes, club members would be the ones to take the center stage. Either with their own partners or in groups, or even acting solo, allowing other members to watch as they indulge in carnal pleasure.
Feeling warm from your own thoughts about the indecent scenes that you have seen in the Viewing Room before, you lift your gaze back to the nearest stage, where a new male dancer has taken the center spot.
Wearing a thin, see-through white shirt and a pair of tight, holed-up jeans, he basically leaves only little left to your imagination. His mask, a perfect replication of a pair of wings of a dove, is made out of white lace fabric with silver threads as its linings. The mask glimmers as the dancer begins rocking his hips, allowing you to see the toned lines of his muscles rippling under his shirt before he begins to slowly peel the thin piece away to show you more.
As you continue watching the dancer perform with his captivating moves, your mind wanders to another figure whose movements are also just as graceful, but with less rough edges on him. The figure who holds an aura which exudes sin and temptation as he moves and speaks, with that smile of his which keeps drawing you in.
Finding yourself comparing the dancer with your mysterious host and escort draws out a scoff from your lips.
How would you know whether or not Jimin has any rough edges on him at all, when he has always presented himself in a prim and orderly fashion; with his sparkling mask hiding half of his face and his firm body under his fashionable suits?
Thinking about Jimin takes you back to the brief moment you had with him at the guest lounge earlier, and you feel the urge to knock back your drink when your disappointment returns tenfold. You have no idea why you are so invested in this club and feeling so deeply about your session tonight. Having your hopes up only to be let down makes you feel bad, but it shouldn’t be this bad.
Is it because you had wanted—no, needed—an escape from your life so badly, hoping that a night of pleasure, a chance to shed your skin for a short while, would have helped you deal with the problems waiting for you at home? Have you needed to forget about the real world that badly to seek a chance to live inside your fantasy?
Yes, you wonder with a sigh, as the weight of your real life outside of this club—work, the thriving, yet struggling business that you are currently running, your home life, the absence of a real relationship, the business deal that had fallen through just this morning—lays heavy on your shoulder.
Yes, I do need that escape.
Ever since the moment you stepped foot in the club for the first time, your entire world has been undeniably and irrevocably elevated to a new height. You’ve found pleasure like you’ve never felt before from the very first experience they gave you, the perfect escape from real life, and never once have you turned your back on them. Never once had they ever given you the reason to.
Must tonight’s misfortune become the sign that your time with the club is up?
Feeling the dreadful feeling from today’s stress coming back, added to the possibility that you might be losing your safe place tonight, you take another drink and lift your gaze, meeting the dancer’s eyes as he looks across the floor to see you.
Sitting back and forcing yourself to relax, you convince yourself to simply enjoy this moment. To enjoy the performance that is being given to you while trying your best not to think of your troubles, and at the same time, stop yourself from imagining your lovely host—whose smile and alluring voice have always filled your thoughts—as the one dancing in front of you.
— Jimin —
Jimin has no idea what he is doing or why he is here.
It feels like only moments ago that he watched you go to the Entertainment Room—the Lounge, as everyone at the club would usually call it—and then he is suddenly here, standing in the dark corner, watching you.
He cannot understand why he felt the urge to come here. The need to see you again was pulling at him that he was drawn here to find you.
Like a moth to a flame.
Shaking his head, Jimin lets out a bitter chuckle. This is ridiculous. If this had been the weekend, when the club is usually the busiest, he wouldn’t have been here. He wouldn’t have time to, nor the chance to be distracted by the thought of you, wondering if you are feeling better, or if you are going to meet anyone in the Entertainment Room who might invite you to join them for more.
The Viewing Room is open for guests tonight. The Play Room that you have booked for the night is still vacant, as he couldn’t alter the reservation and pass it on to another guest unless they are seeking the same specific theme. Which only makes him grow more concerned after sending you off with a free ticket to use either of these rooms tonight.
Jimin may have informed you of the main rules within the club, yet he isn’t sure if you are aware of the special rule that applies only to the exclusive members and VIP guests of the club that most aren’t well-informed yet unless they have the same privileges.
The same privileges that you now have, once Jimin has officially updated your status in the club.
The rule which states that while the guests are forbidden to engage intimately with or to invite the escorts to their private sessions in the sex rooms, they are, however, allowed to invite another guest for an impromptu session set in the rooms, so long as the arrangement made between them is mutual and the hosts are made aware of it beforehand.
It might have been the thought of you receiving open invitations from these other guests which had drawn Jimin away from his station. He knew it was a possibility. If someone like him could be completely smitten and drawn to you, there is no doubt that others would feel the same once they notice you.
Alone.
Unattended.
Available.
Jimin’s attention is drawn back to you when he sees you raising your hand, and ordering your second drink. Within moments, one of the male escorts tending the room appears with your drink in his tray. He leans close over the table as he places your drink, and then lingers for a moment too long. His demeanour and the way he leans a bit too close, too friendly, combined with the way you smile back at him as you lean forward to meet him, lets Jimin know that this male escort has been the one taking care of you and keeping you company since you got here.
Jimin’s hands are clenched to fists at his sides. It remains that way while you are chatting with the escort, whose presence is making you oblivious to your surroundings and all the attention that you are getting from the other guests. Only when the male escort finally walks away, returning to his station, Jimin can finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Instead of approaching you, Jimin remains in the shadows. Still out of sight. It allows him to look at you, a chance to get a full view of what he rarely gets to see whenever he’s in your presence.
Sitting under the dim golden light falling from above, your mask glimmers when you move. The masquerade mask, gifted by the club when you first joined as a member and then amplified further with your personal touch, looks like petals of roses covering a part of your face. Made of lace fabric in the colour of red cherry, the mask matches perfectly well with the colour of your drink. Even the colour of your lipstick and dress both match the tone, something that Jimin had marvelled at the moment he saw you for the first time earlier tonight.
The gold and black embroideries framing your mask make your eyes pop, and it shouldn’t please Jimin how well they match the colour of the mask that he is wearing tonight.
As he watches you raise your glass to your lips, Jimin finds himself moving. As if a spell has been put on him, and his body is moving on its own, drawn towards the magic that has bewitched him completely.
You have yet to notice him approaching, as your eyes drift towards the nearest box stage, where a new male dancer had just taken the spot to begin his dance.
Once again, Jimin clenches his fists as he looks on, wishing that the glimmer in your eyes was directed to him instead. Yet he quickly calms himself just as he comes to your table, keeping his voice and expression steady, as well as the mask helping him hide his emotion, as he gently says, “Enjoying your evening so far?”
Jimin’s voice takes your attention away from the male dancer who is now becoming the main focus of the entire room.
Startled, you sit up straight and turn to look at him. The haze in your eyes clears for a moment, only for your gaze to soften at the sight of him. While Jimin still cannot understand what he was feeling before, he takes pleasure in seeing how your gaze always changes just for him.
“Well, I can’t say that I’m not enjoying myself,” you answer him with a coy smile. It appears as if you are already feeling the buzz, both from your drink and the ambience in the room, clearly seeming more relaxed compared to before. “I have free drinks, a wonderful view of gorgeous men dancing to the music, and friendly escorts coming to keep me company.”
Your words draw a smile to Jimin’s face, which grows even wider when you add, “And now I have my handsome host coming to say hi.”
Chuckling softly, Jimin nods and says, “Hi.”
You softly laugh and take a drink. It draws Jimin to move closer. “Mind if I join you, then?”
You lower your eyelids. A gesture so subtle and sweet, yet enough to draw a strong reaction out of him. The perfect submission. You shake your head and shift on your seat, making space for him.
“Do you think I’ll mind having some time with you, Jimin?” you ask him with your eyes fluttering as you tap your palm on the loveseat, gesturing to him to sit right beside you instead of taking the other chair across the table. “Come sit here and keep me company.”
Tilting his head, a myriad of emotions washes over him. He knows that he shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t be here at all, least of all to join you, when every part of him keeps reacting to everything that you do. But his body has its own mind, and your gaze is pulling him closer before he can stop himself.
Tugging at the lapels on his suit jacket, Jimin settles right next to you. Breathing in, he enjoys the sweet scent of your perfume and the warmth of your presence while you take another sip of your drink.
“Aren’t you busy? Is it all right for you to join me here instead of watching over the concierge desk? Won’t they be needing you there?” You begin giving him a barrage of questions before returning your drink to the table. Jimin merely listens with a smile, as you curiously ask, “Or did you perhaps come here to check on me? To make sure that I’m having a good time?”
Why am I here? Jimin wonders, once again questioning his own intentions.
His concern over you had been making it hard for him to focus on working. No matter how much he tries to rationalise it, listing all the possible reasons why he is in this room with you, Jimin still has no answers. Other than to see you.
However, he loses any chance to answer your question or to explain himself when a bare-chested server wearing a bowtie around his neck, a silver mask covering half of his face, and a pair of extremely tight leather pants, comes in to take his drink order.
Jimin considers ordering something strong. A glass of whiskey, perhaps, if only for the sake of giving him liquid courage to speak his mind openly to you. But he quickly decides against it and orders a glass of iced water instead.
“I’m guessing there’s a rule against drinking on the job?” you tease him, once the server walks away, your gaze lingers for a second longer on his toned bottom than Jimin would like before you turn to him again.
“Something like that,” Jimin says with a tight smile. “I’m still on the hour, and I’d prefer to enjoy this chat with a sound mind.”
“I like the sound of that. Then I guess I’ll be drinking for both of us,” you say as you take a hefty drink of your liquor, nearly finishing it off. “You don’t do this often, do you?” you ask him while looking around, before noticing Jimin’s raised eyebrows and explaining what you meant, “I’m talking about you sitting with a client or a guest while strippers and half-naked servers are entertaining them.”
Chuckling softly, Jimin shakes his head. “Actually, as one of the main hosts and the club’s recruiters, I do this quite often. Usually, I’d sit in the Entertainment Room or the open stage areas where the strippers perform, scouting over new guests who aren’t yet members to see if I can find those who interest me enough to offer them a special membership offer for them to join the club.”
Your eyes grow wide, surprised and intrigued at the same time upon hearing this. Jimin can’t blame you for feeling this way. Even if he has been your host and personal contact to the club since you first applied, this hadn’t been your experience which had led you to meet him.
Unlike the other members who came in through Jimin’s expert scouting and special invitation passed on through their sponsors, you had first come to the club at your own conviction.
He still remembers that day as if it was yesterday.
You had come during the rare occasion in which the club opened the Entertainment Room for public audience, welcoming guests who were non-members by applying an entrance fee for those who came without sponsors. It was you who came to approach him first, knowing who he was to the club and what his role was as he blended with the guests.
Through the conversation he shared with you, he had learned that you came that night after finding out about the club from the words spread through the grapevine. You came out of curiosity at first, while also having the intention to apply to be a regular club member so you could try out the club’s various endeavours. You claimed that you wished to learn more about your sexual taste and preferences, while relying on the club’s pledge of keeping the members’ privacy and safety while they are under its wings.
Jimin vaguely recalls how your work would often get in the way of you in having a relationship and from seeing people, to going on dates and finding your own partner to try new things. Hence, the club became such an enticing option which you couldn’t refuse.
“No wonder no one seems to be questioning why you’re here,” you simply comment, just as a server passes by your table with a subtle nod towards Jimin.
Jimin takes a drink to cool off, realising that this is something that he needs as he notices you sliding closer to him.
“I guess you do take your job seriously,” you tease, sounding more relaxed after the drink you are having starts settling in. He looks over to see you watching him closely, your chin resting on your hand as you peruse him with your gaze. “Since you’re here, I’ve been thinking…”
Placing his glass down, Jimin sits back in the seat, willing himself to relax with you. “What do you have in mind?” he asks, crossing his legs as he listens. Jimin bites down his smile when you give him a sheepish smile. But he would have never expected to hear what you are going to say to him next.
“I feel like it will be a waste if I just leave here after finishing my drink.” You let out a sigh. “So maybe I’ll take your offer and try out one of the sex rooms tonight. What do you think?”
You turn to Jimin with a small smile. “Is the Viewing Room with the open stage available tonight? It’s okay to go solo to watch, isn’t it? Maybe I can have fun there and enjoy myself.”
Jimin swallows down the groan threatening to come out of him at the thought of you entering the sex rooms, much less the Viewing Room. Watching a live porn performance has been one of the fetishes and quirks that the club has to offer. One that he knows well enough to be your favourite before the Play Room.
By choosing the one with the open stage, you will be sitting right in front of the stage, with either the attendees or escorts performing their carnal act within arm’s length and no barrier getting in the way. Except that going in solo would mean an open invitation to anyone who is enjoying the room to watch without a partner.
“I mean, I would have loved to try the Dark Room, but after failing to find a partner meant for my original schedule, I can’t see myself getting a random partner on such short notice for—”
Gritting his teeth, Jimin holds back from showing his displeasure as you continue rambling about your desire to try out the other sex rooms. With other people. He knows that it would be wrong of him to object to your intentions when he was the one who first made the offer for you to find a different way to enjoy the rest of your night.
Yet he certainly isn’t prepared to hear himself sharing what has truly been going through his mind out loud.
— You —
Thinking about what you might find in the Viewing Room tonight already makes you grow hot and excited.
Out of all the sex rooms that you can find in Club La Rouge, the Viewing Room was the start of it all. The start of your journey with the sex club.
Applying for a membership at La Rouge last year had immediately earned you a free entrance to The Viewing Room and a free extra drink in The Entertainment Room on the same night. Out of curiosity, you accepted the offer right away to feel the experience firsthand.
Resting back in your loveseat, you remember resting on an exact replica of this seat inside the sex room, getting comfortable as you enjoyed the show. Just the way they have it here, there was a single stage positioned perfectly at the center of the room, merely an arm’s length away from where you were sitting.
When you first entered, the stage was already occupied. You watched in awe as a masked woman sitting on the center of the stage spread her legs open, while a masked man knelt down before her, with his face buried between her legs and his mouth devouring her bare cunt. As the woman rocked her hips in the height of pleasure, you found yourself moving yours, brushing your covered center against the cushioned seat beneath you to find your own release.
You remember meeting the woman’s gaze when her eyes shot open in her release, and then again when the man raised to his feet, twisting his partner onto her knees with ease before he began taking her from behind, pounding into her shamelessly while masked strangers continued to watch them giving in and indulging their carnal desire on stage.
It felt exhilarating.
Freeing.
And it felt like the perfect escape from your mundane life, allowing you to recognise a part of you which had been lying dormant inside and awaiting release. The part of you which has always had a strong passion and desire for pleasure, and a deep curiosity to venture deeper into your fantasies and bring them into reality.
That had been the night when you truly found the club to be the perfect place for you. A place where you could seek out pure pleasure, to learn and understand more about your needs and desires freely without any judgement from the people around you.
And you have been coming back to this place ever since. Always back to try out new things, new ventures, new sex rooms, and Jimin knows this fact so well as he talks about your intention of visiting the Viewing Room before making your way home.
“The Viewing Room you mentioned is available tonight. I’m quite certain that there are already a couple of guests making use of the stage right now, and anyone interested in watching them can enter anytime. But—”
Jimin pauses. Seconds drag on. It would be expected for you to feel uneasy about why he seems so unsure to talk more about this. But it’s hard to feel it when his gaze seems to spark brighter when he looks at you.
With a smile on his face, Jimin leans in to say with a low, gentle voice, “What if I tell you that I have something better in mind?”
His cryptic words make you curious. “I’m listening.”
His smile remains as his gaze holds steady, “I would like to make you an offer.”
The moment you get to see Jimin up close, your previous thoughts are proven right. He does look way more attractive in your eyes compared to the dancer who tried his best to keep your attention on him. Even with a full suit on, Jimin looks more appealing. His face, while hidden under his beautifully crafted mask, appears delicate and beautiful beneath. Not even the mask and the dim lighting filling the room can hide his features, or dim the sparks you feel from looking into his eyes.
And then there is the way he carries himself, which has always been able to make you feel flustered whenever you are near each other. The way he glides and sways as if he is dancing to a tune that only he can listen to, and how you would take in every single movement he makes—from the tilt of his head, the small twitch at the corner of his lips before his smile grows, to the delicate way he moves his fingers.
You have never truly realised how much he affects you.
Until now.
When the confidence that he oozes from within makes you feel like you want to surrender your desire in his hands, knowing that he might be the only one in the world who may understand what you need.
“Another offer?” you ask, smiling at the sweet man before you, while hiding the fact that you are feeling an odd flutter in your chest with the way he is leaning closer to you. He might only want to make sure that you can hear him over the sultry music playing in the room, while keeping his words—his offer—from everyone else around you to hear. Something for your ears only.
“After giving me an additional monthly private session, extra free drinks and a free show.” You raise your glass and wave your hand at the main stage, where a few male dancers are now performing for all the club members who are present, their bare chests glimmering under the golden glow lights. “As well as many other privileges a girl like me could ever deserve. Yet you still have more to give?”
Your smile grows when your gazes meet again. “I never realised the club takes good care of their members this well.”
Jimin gives you a sweet smile. “As I said before, I feel responsible for tonight’s misfortune. I feel like I am partly to blame for matching you with the wrong partners for your private session tonight. If only I had done my job better, perhaps you would—”
Shaking your head at him, you lean forward and repeat the same words you gave him earlier. “Jimin, I told you already, it’s not your fault. These things can happen. It just wasn’t meant to be.”
Jimin presses his lips when he nods. His eyes are on you when he speaks again, “Yet, things like this shouldn’t happen. It would be bad for our business if we keep messing things up for our favourite clients.” His frown softens. His lips turn to a small grin when he notices you looking back at him with a shy smile, obviously catching on with the meaning of his words.
“Rest assured, I’ve dealt with the problems as much as I could. For now. You will not be paired up again with your original partner in the future, and we will be looking into his personal details to see if we can have him update his data so things like this—having an appointed pairing bail due to conflicting interests, as he called it—won’t be happening again.”
The grin disappears and switches into a look of contempt as he speaks about this, and then he carries on to say, “We have also scheduled to have our system looked over, to make sure that no one, especially you, will experience similar misfortunes.”
You sit back and look at him with wide eyes. “Wow, you work fast,” you mutter softly, amusedly, surprised that Jimin and his team would move that quickly to fix all the problems straight away. Their automated pairing system included.
“As I should. It’s for the club’s best interest, after all,” he claims. “Of course, the first chosen club member has received a warning for his sudden retreat, and we are currently appraising the details and preferences he added in his application form to see if there was some information that he had put in inaccurately.”
The sass and bitterness in his voice nearly make you laugh. Seems like Jimin also believes that said club member might have made up things that he wrote down in his application form.
“And the other? You’re not going to reprimand the poor fella?”
Jimin scoffs. “No, he already emailed us back, right before I came in. He’s out of town, and the business email address he gave us had an automated reply feature set on. That might have been the main cause of the issue.”
“Bummer,” you say this while rolling your eyes, causing Jimin to chuckle. “Is that what you came here to talk about?”
Shaking his head, Jimin smiles softly at you and leans closer. “No, it’s not. I could’ve informed you all of this another time if that’s all I wanted to talk about.”
He takes a quick glance around him, seeing if anyone would hear him before he continues. “My offer has to do with your original session,” he says, pausing briefly to let you process his words before he explains further, “Since the Play Room has been booked for your appointment tonight, it will remain vacant for the rest of the night. We have no other guests scheduled for a session, while the room itself has been set up to accommodate your—request.”
He gives you a small grin while your cheeks grow warm. You are taken back to Jimin’s first reaction when he heard your request, when he sounded so surprised and amused at the same time that you regretted not contacting him through a video call instead to see the reaction on his face. “The staff have worked so hard preparing the room for your appointment. It would be a shame to let it go to waste, wouldn’t it?”
“I…suppose it would,” you respond slowly, while silently questioning where he is going with this.
“Then, I would like to offer you the chance to use the Play Room tonight,” he says, surprising you that you raise your eyebrows at him.
“Okay…But how? I don’t suppose that your system can magically find me the right partner to invite tonight. Unless you already know someone that might come in moment’s notice,” you comment with a soft chuckle, yet the way Jimin grins at you in return makes you stop.
“If an eligible partner is what you are asking for, then there is one who is available.”
Your jaw nearly drops. “Do you mean to say that you have found someone?”
Jimin says nothing for a brief moment, allowing room for anticipation to start growing in your chest. And then, he surprises you again when he finally answers.
“It’s me,” he confidently replies. While your heartbeat picks up after hearing this, a look of mirth appears in his eyes.
You say nothing, wondering if you are hearing things. Perhaps you heard him wrong, and you are imagining things. But then Jimin speaks again, more convincingly this time, “I will be your partner so you can use the Play Room tonight.”
Seeing that you are lost for words, Jimin holds back a chuckle and reaches out. His gentle hand rests right beside your thigh, barely touching, yet you can still feel a brush of warmth on your skin from the gesture. Your body reacts with a shudder, yet you make no move to pull away when Jimin leans in, getting into your personal space so that you can breathe in his cologne, and feel his breath on your exposed shoulder when he questions you with a low voice, “I can promise you that if you wish so dearly for your fantasy to be fulfilled tonight, then I can make sure you will not be left unsatisfied. What do you say?”
“Is that—” You are still struggling to get over your shock that you can’t find any words to say. His offer was so unexpected that you have no idea how to react. “Is that even allowed?” you finally ask, “And why would you even make such an offer?”
Jimin’s gaze softens. “A part of it is me trying to make up for my mistake, another part is for my personal gain,” he admits, once again surprising you with his confession. “You are quite a special member of the club. As a host, it would taint my reputation if words spread that I’ve failed to provide one of my attendees with her needs tonight.”
His gaze is locked on yours when he continues, “As a man, who has unadulterated interest in you, it would have been a great sin should I send you home tonight unsatisfied, when I know for sure that I fit quite well to the criteria you were asking for as a partner.”
Eyes wide, you simply listen and allow his words to sink in. If only he didn’t seem so genuine about it, perhaps you would have laughed in his face. You find it hard to believe that he has any semblance of interest in you at all, or in the type of fantasy you wished to bring into reality. Enough for him to make such an offer.
“As for whether or not I, as a staff member, am allowed to offer myself to be your partner,” he continues while you fall silent, “the rules only state that I am not allowed to be involved with a guest when I am in the hour of my shift. I don’t think the club and the executives would mind if I end my shift early tonight and re-enter as a regular patron of the club.”
This time, you cannot stop yourself from laughing in disbelief. But you can see the honesty in his eyes, and you quickly sober up.
“Your offer is quite tempting,” you find yourself admitting once your laughter dies down.
“Of course, it is,” he says, smiling, while looking awfully pleased and sure of himself. “You came into our club tonight in search of pleasure. We have one Play Room still open and reserved, already prepared specifically for you. It’s a win-win situation if we take this opportunity. Don’t you think so?”
In a way, you have to admit that he is right.
Your special request would have required some extra preparation from the club to arrange. You wonder what kind of waste that would be if the club isn’t going to find someone else to make use of it. And the more you think about it, the more tempted you are to follow him through
“If I accept this offer,” you carefully say to him, “how will it affect my, um—”
As if Jimin knows what you are about to ask him, he nods and explains, “Remember one of the rules from the Play Room that I shared with you when you first came in?”
You nod your head, still remembering the rules clearly.
“What happens in the Play Room, stays there. Once the session ends, you will remain as our esteemed guest and club member, while I remain as your host,” Jimin reassures you, “Of course, if you ever find it uncomfortable to have me deal with your future—endeavours, you are free to switch hosts and your personal contacts for your future sessions anytime you want.”
While his explanation does sound reassuring, his last comment only displeases you. Furrowing your brows, you cannot possibly imagine having to contact anyone else other than Jimin. To allow a stranger from the club to organise your private sessions, to take notes of your preferences and progress—something that you find too personal to share with anyone—instead of having someone that you have become familiar with for the past year assisting you.
Jimin tilts his head. He can probably see that you may need a moment to mull it over. There is no need for you to let him know that you might have already made up your mind about taking his offer.
“You have one more drink on your card. Take your time to think about it while you have your drink. You should also know that this is an offer that I don’t give away so easily to any other members of the club,” he says, as the tips of his fingers brush against your hand. A shudder runs through you, and you begin to imagine what his touch would do to you if it were more intimate.
Jimin leans back, brushing against the front of his suit as he takes away his warmth. “I will be waiting for your decision. Just come straight to the room that has been reserved for your session tonight. You should find the information by taking a quick visit to Saki at the concierge desk.”
“What if I decide not to come?”
Jimin stops. With a flicker of a smile on his face, he reaches out to you, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear—a move which enthrals you and has your heartbeat picking up rapidly in your chest.
“I think,” he whispers, “You will be there when I enter the room. You’ll be waiting for me on your knees, your hands folded on your lap, and your head down in submission. You will be waiting for me to tell you what I want, and ready to take my commands, just like the good girl I know you are.”
You bite your lips and lower your eyes. “Is that how you want me tonight, Sir?”
There is heat in his eyes when Jimin notices your subtle submission. “You should know better than to question your master once the instruction is clear.”
— Jimin —
Jimin’s movements are stiff and his legs feel heavy as he makes his way out of the Entertainment Room. It takes a lot of effort to remain calm as he walks away from you. He almost can’t even make it to leave at all.
But he knows that he has to.
He feels hard as concrete down below. His pants have grown tight as he walks, and he can only hope that the dim lighting around him provides enough cover to hide it as he walks past a few guests and escorts on his way back to his office.
Your reaction to his offer was sweet. But it was your reaction to his instructions that did things to him. It makes him want to forget everything—the rules, regulations, his duties and ethics—and go straight to the Play Room with you. To hell with the power of anticipation, when he could have gone straight into playtime if he wanted to.
But he knows that he cannot do that.
Not here. Not now, when he is still on duty.
To make sure that there will be nothing getting in the way of him in spending the evening and having a session with you, he needs to do things right. First, he needs to get back to his office and deal with his remaining duties and responsibilities. Then he is going to clock out, ending his shift so he can enter the room with you as another guest instead of a host.
A complete submission.
That was your special request. A new kind of sexual exploit that you have claimed, time and time before, to be something that you have been interested in trying, but never had the chance or the courage to get into. Not once, because you have yet to find the right time and place to delve into it without being haunted by the fear of judgment, and without worrying about your safety.
As Jimin closes the door to his office behind him and carefully begins stripping himself out of his suit jacket, he recalls the conversation he had with you earlier today, back when you called to make the arrangement.
Those three words had done him over that he almost reacted with a groan in the middle of the phone call. It brought back a piece of his past; his first connection to the club, and the deepest, darkest desire that he has long kept a secret from the world, but never from the club.
Jimin walks across the room to stand in front of the mirror that he has placed against the wall. Carefully, he untangles the ribbons keeping his mask attached to his face. With a new determination set in his mind, he strips himself of the mask that identifies him as the host of the club, and readies himself to put on a different mask. An old persona of his that not many have ever gotten the chance to see.
Tonight, he is just another guest.
Tonight, he is about to become the master that you need.
— You —
You cannot really remember how you managed to get here.
The preparation room looks just as common as the others you used before when you booked a sex room.
Not too spacious, just comfortable enough for the guest to strip out of their clothes and change into whatever outfit or setup they need for the session.
A small shower box and a vanity table are placed on one side of the room, provided specifically in case an attendee feels the need to clean up before or after a session.
A wooden closet covers the other side of the room, filled with robes and costumes that you can choose from. There are also baskets and boxes here which you can use to place your personal belongings—the ones which you didn’t leave behind at the reception desk—to keep safe during a session.
The locked door behind you should bring you back towards the hallway where Saki had left you. The soft echoes of her heels can still be heard as she makes her way back to the concierge desk after escorting you here.
And right on the other side of the door before you is the Play Room—specifically, the room which Jimin had reserved for you tonight.
Your body is buzzing from the inside as you stand facing it. Every part of your sense has come alive, excitement is brewing, yet you still make no move to get ready.
Butterflies flutter in your belly while all your nerve endings are crackling. The thought of Jimin being the other person you will see once you step through that door feels like a fantasy that you never once imagined, yet merely seconds away from becoming reality.
It’s this kind of moment when you wish that you could depend on liquid courage. The club’s drink limit wasn’t even the reason why your mind is now clear, as you never took the extra drink that Jimin offered. The moment Jimin walked out of sight, leaving you behind in the Entertainment Room to ponder over his invitation, your mind was already made up. Not even the male dancer rocking his hips towards you from behind the glass barrier did anything to sway you from your needs.
Not when Jimin’s words had already set your nerves alight, and your carnal needs burning wildly inside.
You barely even finished your second drink when you left your seat, drawn by the promise you heard in Jimin’s voice. A promise that he would be the one to give you what you need tonight.
Not simply as a host who is in charge of your safety and comfort. Not out of his sense of duty.
But as a man with raw, carnal desire which you could feel from his direct words, his confidence, and his smooth, silky voice as he spoke about helping you find pleasure.
With a deep inhale of breath, you begin peeling your clothes off. Jimin never specified how you should situate yourself aside from the hint he left you with. But you have decided that it would be best to be as prepared as you can be.
After putting aside your shoes, pieces of jewellery, and your fancy dress into one of the baskets, you walk towards the full body mirror on the vanity table.
The pair of eyes looking back at you look almost unrecognisable. Yet the brewing anticipation and desire are clear, even from beneath the mask. Deciding that you are going to go all in tonight, you carefully take off your mask, putting it aside with a smile on your face before stepping into the shower box.
From what you have learned about Doms, something that you read about when you first became intrigued with the concept of submission and control, you found that some may require their subs to freshen up before entering a play. For you, personally, standing briefly under the running water has helped calm your nerves before entering an intense type of play.
Recalling the way Jimin leaned in to breathe the scent of your perfume, you forgo using the liquid soap that you find on the shelves and simply let the water wash off the sweat on your skin and the spicy fragrance from the Entertainment Room still clinging on you.
Once you feel refreshed and clean, you reach for the silk robe to cover yourself. It’s a thin piece that hangs perfectly on the curves of your body. Its length falls right at the top of your thighs, barely concealing your intimate parts when you sit down on the settee in front of the vanity table.
You take your time to look at your reflection in the mirror before stepping into the next room.
Your face is now clean from the makeup you wore for the night. Your hair is loose, the pins and hair clip are now safely secured with your other belongings, and it makes you feel more relaxed seeing the wet strands framing your clear face.
A smile lifts itself on your face as you take a good look at yourself while imagining how Jimin would react seeing you like this—with every part of you bare of anything which may hide your truth. For him to see every part of you that no one else has ever gotten the chance to.
If he’s going to be there as just another man, then I’ll be there as a regular woman.
Not his usual patron or special guest. Just me.
The door to the Play Room closes behind you with a resounding click. Almost as if sealing your fate.
There is no turning back.
By now, Jimin would’ve gotten notified of your arrival in the room. He might already be on his way to join you.
It would be too late to have a change of mind now, wouldn’t it?
You find yourself wondering about this as your gaze drifts towards the other door across the room. You can picture him entering through that door, elegantly striding into the room as if he owns the place. The same way you saw him the first time you met, when he entered the guest venue with his head held high and one of his hands tucked in his pocket as he greeted the guests attending the club’s special event. Also, the same way he did earlier when he walked off the Entertainment Room after sharing his proposition with you.
Will he be wearing his mask still, just like your previous partners? Will he still be wearing his fancy suit—this evening, he was wearing a matching suit in deep bronze with a satin shirt in cream underneath, a complete contrast to his dark mask—or will he choose to change into something more comfortable?
Something more—appropriate for the play, perhaps? Or maybe just something comfortable for him to play his role with?
Thinking of all the possibilities of seeing Jimin in a different light makes the flutter inside you grow more intense. It feels overwhelming. So you try to distract yourself by taking in your surroundings instead, marvelling at what the club has done while you have the chance to soak it all in.
This Play Room seems slightly different compared to the ones you used previously. Quite more spacious, it gives you a sense that you are inside a honeymoon suite in a resort instead of a simple sex room inside of a club. The lights here are a bit dimmer, with various more arrangements added to fill the room.
A four-poster king-sized bed is placed against the center wall to your right. Its frame is made of dark wood, with four vertical columns standing on each of its corners, made as tall as pillars reaching to the ceiling. Wooden rails are placed on its head, looking just as sturdy as the columns and sizeable enough for you to wrap your fingers around each grid. Various pillows and cushions are scattered on the mattress, all covered in dark rouge-coloured silk sheets—the shade that you see in almost every part of the club.
The bed looks imposing as you stand right before the massive columns. Yet heat rises through your body as you picture yourself being stretched out on top of the delicate fabric, your limbs bound to those pillars and your skin bare for your partner’s eyes to see.
Another set of doors stand on the wall across the bed. A symbol is placed at the top, similar to the one you saw one the doors to the preparation rooms similar to the one that you had just walked out of—a symbol that looks like an outline of a bathtub to give you a hint of what is on the other side.
Your heartbeat flutters softly in your chest knowing what it means—a small bath meant to use after a playtime, or perhaps another part of the set-up meant for the Dom and sub to use during a play?
Turning back to the room, you see two other furnitures that are set on either side of the bed which look just as imposing.
Black-painted St. Andrews cross stands on a small platform on the left side of the bed, set up for intense bondage play. A bondage bench covered in dark red leather with leg stirrups is placed on the right side, with various instruments meant for different types of punishments hanging on the adjacent wall. Floggers, belts, whips, paddles, riding crops, and even feathers in various sizes and colours draw your attention, and your skin feels tight as you picture them being used on you.
Looking away from those instruments, your gaze lands on a single leather high-back chair that is placed across the bed. Looking at its position, you can imagine your partner sitting there, watching as you are laid to perform any carnal act on the bed.
This simple setup is something that you are more familiar with, learned from your previous experiences in the Play Room.
Your first experience with the Play Room was when you requested a session where you could give a blowjob to a nameless partner who was willing to be tied up and blindfolded. On the next session, you became the recipient of an invitation sent from another guest. An anonymous club member who wanted to give you pleasure through oral sex, only this time, with you being the one who was blindfolded, all while you were stretched out and bent on a long loveseat similar to the high-back chair you see in this room.
Ever since then, you have continued to use the Play Room to venture into other kinks. To understand more about yourself and follow your need to figure out what you might enjoy more in the future with a trusted partner.
You tried to see if you could enjoy pain kink by arranging to have a partner spanking you until your skin grew tender. The first time you entered this type of session, you had your partner use his palms, who had then used those same palms to soothe away the pain and tenderness until you were left trembling under his touches. In the next session, you had a different partner use a flogger, an experience which you found painful yet thrilling that you felt like you were being sent off to a different height at the end.
Both occasions had allowed you to learn one thing; that you can endure pain and enjoy them, and you had been left drenched between your legs with arousal after each one, that a single flick of a finger on your clit and a light blow on your slick folds were enough to send you spiralling into your climax, one that was so intense that you can still feel it each time you think about those nights.
Another time, you tried to see if food play would be your thing.
The idea of the play was quite erotic; as you spent it by having both you and your partner coated in chocolate syrup before licking each other clean. But the aftermath hadn’t been as pleasing.
It was messy, sticky, and you still giggle each time you remember the dopey smile you gave each other when you found out how ticklish you actually were. It didn’t necessarily ruin the experience. But it did simmer the heat. Thankfully, your partner that night simply bid you goodbye with a chaste kiss on your cheek and a teasing wink instead of abhorrence.
Sensory play was the next thing you tried in the Play Room. It was your partner’s turn to take the lead, by pouring hot wax on your breasts before using ice cubes to cool down the sizzling heat. He then finished the play by sucking your sensitive nipples until both of you came into climax from the thrill and heightened sensations. It was yet again something you found to be a pleasant experience. A new find in the growing list of kinks that you certainly do enjoy.
Pressing your legs together, you try to tame down the pulsing heat growing at your center. You can feel that you are getting wet from thinking about your past experiences. Foreplays to prepare yourself for tonight’s session, as you see it.
You have no idea what truly enticed you to request such an intense play for your session tonight. You only have a vague idea so far of what you are getting into, which only adds to the anticipation brewing inside.
Feeling tension growing in your belly, you turn away from the bed to look at the console table standing in the center of the room. At one glance, the table only looks like another piece of adornment to complete the room setup. But upon closer inspection, you quickly notice the entire set-up of what you may need during your play.
Assortments of smaller instruments and sex toys are laid perfectly in order on top of the table, all chosen according to your personal preferences as written in your registration form. From plugs, clamps, and vibrators in different types, sizes, and colours. To a variety of ropes and fabrics that you can only imagine how they are going to be made use of during the play.
There is an addition of a set of hemp rope beside the silk ropes that you have listed as something which you thought might be more comfortable to be used on you, and you wonder if Jimin had added it as his own preference to try with you after volunteering to be your partner tonight.
Reaching out, you brush the tips of your fingers over the items on the table, trying to decide if you should pick something out of them yourself before Jimin arrives. Even if only so you could have something to hold on to as you wait.
But then Jimin’s last instruction echoes through your mind, reminding you of the command he gave before he left—
“You’ll be waiting for me on your knees, your hands folded on your lap, and your head down in submission.”
Thump. Thump. Your heart begins beating rapidly in your chest. Warmth surges through your body, pulling at your skin, as his gentle voice comes to you like a soft, demanding caress,
“You will be waiting for me to tell you what I want…”
The intense flutter in your chest returns, and you pull your hand away from the table.
Smoothing down the front of your robe, you carefully climb onto the bed. You settle down near the foot of the bed, knees folded beneath you to cushion your weight. You rest your palms on your thighs, loosening your fingers instead of clenching them, and lower your head in submission.
And then you wait.
Seconds tick by into minutes.
Silence has thickened as you continue kneeling on the bed, waiting for Jimin to arrive.
Your heartbeat has grown steady. The unrest and anxiousness you felt have dwindled in your wait. Your legs are beginning to grow numb. Yet there is something about the power of anticipation which has the rest of your body come alive.
While your mind is empty, you are still focused. Your senses are on high alert. Your skin has become sensitive to the touch, to every shift in the air, to every brush of soft breeze flowing from the air conditioner.
The gentle click from the other door sounds like it’s coming from far away. It doesn’t take long for your mind to register what it means, as it is the sound that you have been waiting for ever since you claimed your position.
Jimin is here.
You remain in your position, keeping your eyes lowered as the gentle sound of footfalls fills the room. You can feel him approaching, stopping to stand right before you without making any other sound. For a moment, you can hear nothing else but the sound of your steady heartbeat and his subtle breathing, until—
“You follow my instructions really well.” His voice comes as a murmur, with a praise that comes out of his lips like a humming tune. It brings back the butterflies fluttering in your belly, growing wild and expanding, before exploding into sparks when he adds,
“Good girl.”
Your hands are clenched, and unclenched, in perfect rhythm as the blood flooding warmly in your veins. Receiving his praise surprisingly feels—good.
His words feel almost as succulent as the most expensive wine you have ever tasted. You immediately file this new discovery as something that you find as something pleasing.
Jimin places a knuckle under your chin and lifts your face to look at him. “Hello there, angel.”
Every single thought in your head is quieted the moment you get to look at Jimin. Evidently, he has taken his time to clean up. His suit is gone, replaced by a silk robe which is almost a matching pair to yours. Even his mask is no longer present, leaving not a single trace of lace to cover his beautiful face.
You feel like you are dreaming. You have tried to picture him before, more than once. But your imagination doesn’t seem fair enough when you finally get a good look at him.
You don’t realise how obvious you are in admiring Jimin’s presence until a slow smile grows on his face. He seems amused at your reaction, even if it’s quite clear that you are not the only one to do it. Jimin’s perusing gaze lingers on your face as he brushes his thumb across your cheek.
“This is the first time you are showing me your face ever since the first night you came to the club,” Jimin muses with his gentle voice. So soft that you almost miss it thanks to the sound of your thundering heart.
“This is the first time I get to see your face—ever,” you respond with a smile, drawing a soft chuckle from him.
“I suppose this will be a fair treat for both of us,” Jimin says with a low voice as he lets go of your chin and draws himself back. “Open my robe.”
Your fingers are slightly shaking as you reach out to him. Dainty fingers pull on the sash binding his robe together until the thin fabric comes apart, revealing his bare chest, his firm torso, and the soft V-line leading down towards his semi hard-on. You cannot resist licking your lips, wishing that you could trace his skin, to run your fingers down the lines on his body and the artful black lines written on the side of his chest.
A tattoo. How amusing, you wonder, while silently questioning if there is more ink work on other parts of his body that you are going to find.
You take another second to marvel at this new, unexpected part of him, before your gaze drifts up to his face, waiting for his next instruction. You start to reach up to peel the robe from his shoulders, yet he gently catches your wrist before you can even try. “That’s enough for now, angel.”
“Ah. Yes, Sir.”
Jimin tilts his head as he holds your hands in his, gently pulling you up while saying, “Rise, angel. Let me have a good look at you.”
You can barely feel your legs as you rise, but you barely feel any worries of falling when Jimin keeps a firm hold of your hand with one hand, and your waist on the other. He keeps you balanced when your feet are on the floor and you find yourself swaying.
“Easy, now,” he teases as helps you steady yourself on your feet. “Good. Now don’t move.” Once he is convinced that you can stand on your own, Jimin steps back. Though he keeps his eyes on you, watching you closely when he says, “I want you out of that robe.”
With a deep intake of breath, you reach down and pull to untie the sash around your robe. The silky cover comes apart, revealing your bare skin underneath. You can hear the soft intake of breath coming from Jimin, making your skin flush at the thought of him being affected by the sight of your bareness.
Something else shines through Jimin’s eyes when he looks at you, smouldering with an unnamed intent. Something illicit and dark, sending shivers through your spine. But it also feels delicate and warm, not the kind of sensation that would send you shrinking into the bed and hiding from him.
Jimin takes a step closer. Then another step. Then he runs his fingers on the front lining of your robe, rising up to your shoulders. “You are beautiful, angel. Exquisite,” he whispers smoothly with his fingers moving your hair back.
He gently peels your robe off of your shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor, pooling around your bare feet. The tips of his fingers brush against your skin as he does this, prompting a shudder surging through your body.
“Those fools have no idea what they were missing when they failed to show up tonight,” he murmurs, referring to the club members that were initially chosen for you to have as your master tonight.
But you have barely thought of them at all. Not since the moment Jimin offered to take the role that has been left vacant in their absence.
You are lost in your thoughts for a brief moment that you don’t realise how closer he has gotten. Not until you feel the warmth of his words against your lips. His eyes look deeply into yours as he trails his fingers down the length of your bare arms.
It feels thrilling, the way he is touching you, and the way your body is reacting to the featherlight touches of his fingers. It feels intoxicating, more than what you’ve gained from the drinks you had earlier. Your mind is clouded, and his heated gaze keeps you entranced, making it hard for you to look away, yet your mind is still clear enough to take in everything that is happening at the moment.
Your gaze falls to his lips. With him leaning so close, all you have to do is tilt your head and your lips would touch each other. But neither of you make a move.
His eyes move down just then, lingering on your lips. Just when you think he is about to kiss you, Jimin retreats and carefully guides you back to the edge of the bed. “Back on the bed for now, angel. Resume your position for me.”
Disappointment weighs down your chest, yet you quickly brush it off and keep your voice steady. “Yes, Sir.”
The loss of this touch makes your skin feel cold, so you hold on to the heat coming out of his eyes as you move back to the bed. Moving under his unwavering gaze makes you feel more hyper-aware of your state of nudity. He isn’t even touching you the way you want him to yet, but you can already feel warmth surging through your skin simply from the intense way his eyes are following every move you make.
Sitting back on the bed, a gasp slips out of your lips. You are surprised to find how wet you have already gotten underneath, all coming simply from his unwavering attention. The slickness of your arousal isn’t yet intense, but present, sticking on your skin as you settle back with your legs folded beneath you, hands on your lap, your gaze lowered in submission as you wait for his next move.
Jimin acknowledges your obedience with a nod, and then turns away to make his way across the room, straight to the console table. You watch from under your eyelashes as Jimin moves, his robe flittering on his back. You quickly notice how his slow, yet confident strides hold something different in them more than what you have seen from him before.
An air of dominance and control. Imposing, but not enough to instil fear, and still as elegant as how you have always seen him.
Jimin might not be as brunt as the Dominants you’ve learned about from your research through the internet or what was written in the books you’ve read. He isn’t hard and tough. Instead, he is—gentle, while still commanding in his own way. He has a kind of tenderness that serves like a magic spell, one which makes you want to obediently obey and follow. He lights up the desire you have in you to submit to his every will, to please him, without having to say too much.
The way he feels so comfortable in his own skin also amazes you. Looking at his back, you almost forget that he is bare underneath. The way he embraces himself puts you in awe, that you cannot help but continue admiring him.
As Jimin reaches the console table, he holds out his hand and begins running his fingers on the assortment of instruments and toys being displayed, and you inadvertently straighten your back. Jimin seems to be taking his time perusing the playthings on the table, causing your nerves to spark as you anticipate what’s coming next.
“You requested to experience a complete submission. Is that right, angel?” he gently asks, and for a moment, your brain nearly fails to register his question before you finally find your voice again,
“Yes, Sir. I did.”
Jimin looks over his shoulder. “Now that you’ve seen everything we’ve prepared for your playtime tonight, you haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
You lick your lips. “No, Sir.”
“Good,” he says with a hum. “Before we start—” Jimin angles his body to look at you, and the light from the ceiling falls on his covered back, allowing you to see through his sheer robe to see some more ink work lining down his spine.
“Pick a safeword, angel.”
You drag your eyes away from his back, looking at his face as you consider your choice of safeword, before deciding to go with what your mind is more familiar with. “Red,” you answer him with a soft voice. “Red means to stop.”
His lips twitch with a knowing smile. “Favourite colour?”
You shake your head. “Not really. It’s just easier to remember when I suddenly need to use it.”
Humming to himself, Jimin nods. “Good thinking,” he compliments you, his eyes glinting under the lights as he looks at you to say, “I personally love your choice.”
Jimin turns his attention back to the table, and as the robe on his body moves along with him, you finally get to see the vague lines of his back tattoo through the sheer fabric.
Moon phases. How fitting.
Your gaze is pulled back onto Jimin’s hands as he moves to trace his fingers across the items on the table. As he reaches for the silk and hemp ropes, your skin grows tight with excitement.
Bondage is something that you are still unfamiliar with. But you had clearly stated in your request today that it would be something that you would be interested to learn and do through the session should your partner—your master—be willing.
As your host, you know damn well that Jimin would have taken account of this part of your request. And he seems to be making it clear to you that he is more than willing to introduce you to this form of play tonight.
With a gentle hand, Jimin picks up the silk rope. He plays with the fabric in his fingers for a moment, feeling its texture. He then moves on to the next items, perusing them as closely as he did with the binding materials provided for him. Your core grows warm as he touches one of the small toys and starts filtering through the plugs. Then he moves on again, allowing you a brief relief, only until he brushes his fingers against the collection of clamps in various shapes and sizes that you saw previously.
“How much can you endure pain?” he asks you while he carefully browses through each item while sneaking glances at you from over his shoulder.
You lick your lips. Tingles run through your body as you try to imagine all the things he could possibly do to you, as you picture the previous experiences you’ve had when it comes to finding pleasure through inflicted pain.
“I tolerate them quite fairly.”
“Have you tried these?” As Jimin turns and lifts his hand for you to see, a golden chain hangs from his fingers. A clinking sound draws your eyes to the ends of the chain, where a set of clamps is seen hanging from it, glimmering in the shade of gold. The thin piece of gold looks like a regular piece of jewellery in his hand. And yet it’s hard for you to marvel at its beauty when you that it serves a completely different purpose when used.
“Not yet, Sir.”
Nodding, Jimin puts the clamps back in their place without asking further questions. Then he reaches out to the lines of thin fabric which you identify as blindfolds and mouth covers.
“Blindfold?” he offers with a raised brow.
“No,” your answer comes out easily before you even have the chance to mull it over. “Not tonight. I want to be able to look at you.”
Jimin lets out a soft chuckle as he finally turns away from the table. His mind is already made up with what kind of play he wants to have with you. His determined eyes look straight at you as he steps closer with a silky fabric in his hands—which looks more like a ribbon instead of the rope he was playing with—yet the smile you see on his face softens all the tension in your body.
“How are you doing, angel? You’re still okay?”
“Yes, sir.” You lick your lips. “Quite nervous,” you admit. Desperate for a distraction, you look down on his hands as he slides the thin strip of silk through his fingers. He plays around with the soft material while keeping his eyes on you, taking in your honest reaction.
“Give me your hands. I want to try something before we continue.”
Jimin’s deliberate tone stills your heartbeat. You slowly raise your palms, inches from his waist. The silk strip is soon wound around your wrists, his deft fingers carefully securing the knot just as you begin to tremble. Once he is done, Jimin brings your bound wrists to his chest and slips a finger between your wrist and the fabric to make sure the bond isn’t too tight.
Keeping your bound wrists to his chest, he draws your attention to his face as his lips are pulled into a slow smile. “Tonight, I’m just another guest,” Jimin says to you once he gains your attention, “I am only here to please you, to guide you as your master. Tonight, you are mine to take care of and give pleasure to, but you are to listen to what I say so we can both find pleasure at the end of this session. Is that clear?”
You respond to him with a nod, yet he immediately makes a disapproving noise with his tongue. “From now on, you will respond to me with your words every time I speak to you. Is that clear, angel?”
A whisper of a breath leaves your lips before you finally answer, “Yes, Sir.”
His smile returns. “Now repeat to me. What is your safeword again?”
“Red.”
“Very good. Do you willingly put yourself in my hands tonight?” he asks, while he gently strokes the side of your body with his free hand, lightly digging his fingers into your bare back while his thumb grazes the side of your breast.
“Y-yes, Sir,” you answer with a gasp as he presses down on your skin.
“If you want to slow down, or if you’re not feeling sure about continuing and need a moment to take a breath, you can also use ‘yellow’ to let me know, and I’ll hold back for you. Use ‘red’ only if you want to stop.” Releasing your secured wrists, Jimin tilts your chin up to get you to look at him. “But you must remember that red or stop means everything ends, and I will put our play to a complete stop, and there’s where we end the night. Do you understand?”
You give him a quick nod. “Yes, Sir.”
“Do you trust me?”
With your gaze locked on his, you answer him firmly with, “I do.”
Pleased with your answer, he gently pulls you up from your current position. “Sit on the end of the bed for me, angel.” With one hand on your bound wrists, Jimin holds you steady, while he uses his other hand to help you unfold your legs and let them hang on the side of the bed.
“Easy. Lie down for me.” He bends down with you as he lowers you down to the bed until you are lying on your back.
His gentle hands run down the sides of your body once more as he helps you settle down on top of the silky sheets, taking account of every dent and curve forming your figure. His touch then traces down your thighs, carefully rising them up until your knees are bent and the heels of your feet are resting right on the edge of the mattress. Then he reaches up, palms gripping your hips before pulling you back down a bit closer to the edge of the bed.
“Open your legs for me, angel,” he murmurs, and you easily comply, spreading yourself to expose your bare center. He gives you an appreciative hum as he glides his hands back up, guiding your arms above your head. The tips of your fingers brush against the covers, and he helps you get a grip on the soft fabric before letting you go.
Once he positions himself between your knees, his hands are immediately back on your legs, and they start moving slowly up your thighs. He keeps going upward, tracing his palms up the curve of your hips, to your waist, brushing the sides of your breasts as he continues his way up.
His featherlight touches on your skin have your body trembling, your senses coming alight, warmth surging down south to where you are bare and exposed to his eyes.
But those pretty eyes of his never waver from your face. Not even as he bends forward, covering your body with the length of his until his face is so close to yours.
“Hold on tight and don’t let go,” he whispers close as he slowly moves down until he is kneeling on the floor, his face disappearing between your legs.
He runs his hands back up your thighs. A velvety touch that draws a myriad of sensations through your body. Then his fingers slip down towards your center, sliding right between your thighs to find your mounds. You immediately grow damp as Jimin draws a finger up between your folds. Your body immediately quakes with pent-up desire in response to his touch. Your hips rise, hoping to press down against his touch, only to have him pulling away.
“Jimin,” you gasp.
“Yes, angel?” he coyly asks as he bends down and starts teasing your inner thighs with soft, tickling kisses. It draws soft gasps slipping out of your lips, before your breath is caught in your throat the more he rises closer to your center. His hands move down just then, settling on your spread knees to keep you from writhing off of the bed.
“Touch me, please.”
“Hmmm, I don’t recall ever agreeing to let you give orders, angel,” he gently chastises you, his lips never wavering too far from your skin. “You promised that you are mine tonight, remember? That means you are mine to do with as I wish.”
A soft groan escapes your lips. You cannot help it. You are growing desperate already and his teases keep testing your patience.
“Are you sure you want me to touch you?”
“Yes, please!” you nearly scream. The desperation you feel is clawing at your chest. Unable to move your arms, you clench your hands tightly on the silky sheets the same way you wish you could pull his head towards your pulsing core.
His teeth scrape up your inner thigh, and you finally cry out. But when he doesn’t move any closer to your center, you arch your body upwards, nearly shoving your hips towards his face to chase his lips.
“Hold still,” he gently reprimands you with his grip tightening on your thighs. “You will not move, angel. No matter what I do. Not until I say you can. Do you understand?”
You suck a deep breath and swallow, nodding your head before you remember his command to speak. “Uh, yes. I understand.”
Please.
You swallow back the word that you want so much to say. Even if you have no idea what you are begging him for.
Jimin grabs your hips and yanks your body down towards him, your bottom only lying partly on the bed and your legs hanging in the air as he lifts them upward, knees still bent and raised until your legs are partly folded above you. As if he heard your plea, Jimin dips back down and focuses on your center, his hands moving directly to the place where you need him the most.
Jimin wastes no time. You barely see or hear him move, when suddenly, two fingers plunge deep into your drenched pussy, drawing a scream from your lips. Your hips buck upward, nearly hitting Jimin right in the chin, and he immediately draws his fingers out.
“That is one,” he says, almost sounding pleased, while you are too far gone to make sense of what he is saying.
Jimin cups your chin and guides you to meet his gaze. “Angel? Did you hear me?”
Whining, you shake your head vehemently and whimper, “N-no, Sir. I didn’t.”
Jimin bites back his grin. Your eyes are glazed with lust, yet you can still see the amused look on his face, as if he is enjoying the way you keep defying him so easily.
“That was one,” he repeats himself, “One time you disobeyed me after I specifically told you not to.”
He trails his fingers across your hips while your heart flutters in your chest. “I will count each time you fail to follow my command, and once you reach the count of ten, you will be punished. Do you understand, angel?”
You lick your lips. You know the risk of not following his words and what it may entail, and your heartbeat picks up, only for a different reason other than fear. The promise of punishment shouldn’t excite you so much. Yet it does. “Yes, Sir.”
“I want you to stay perfectly still, angel. And do not come until I say so. Understand?”
“Okay. I mean, yes. Yes, Sir,” you answer with a small voice, already feeling the effect of his touch as his fingers begin to trail closer and closer to your heat.
Your body grows still, waiting for the touch that takes its sweet time to come. But then he stops. His hands disappear from your skin, and he suddenly dives forward and bites down on your inner thigh, making you gasp as your clit throbs in both pleasure and pain.
Jimin continues, kissing and licking a burning trail towards your mound. A soft growl comes out of him when he tastes your arousal. “Spread your legs wider,” he says, lifting your left leg to rest on his shoulder once you do as he commands.
A single finger slips inside you, entering your warmth. He moves it gently, swirling and pressing against your hot walls, drawing your cries when his touch finds the spot where you are pulsing with pleasure.
You let your head fall back as you begin savouring his touch. To feel the waves of raw pleasure building, rising, and pooling right at your core before they begin to spread all over your body. Yet Jimin never gives you the chance to relish it, as he suddenly draws his finger back out, leaving your hot walls clenching onto nothing.
In desperate need to chase the dwindling pleasure, to feel him inside you again, your hips rise before you realise it happening. A deep chuckle is heard, letting you know that you have messed up.
“How many, angel?”
His voice is soft, yet it still brings shivers down your spine as you breathe out. “T-two.”
“Seems like you’ll need more practice about control,” he hums softly. You open your eyes, your gaze blurry as you watch him licking his finger. A soft whimper slips out of you, then he lowers his hands once more. You feel his fingers trailing down your inner thighs, making their way back to your pulsing center. His lips follow close, replacing his touch as he leaves a brief, teasing kiss on your mound.
“Hmmm,” Jimin hums before returning for more, pressing his lips on your slick folds and licking your arousal, “You taste delicious, angel. Like a drop of bourbon. Sweet, and delectable.”
While he keeps whispering sweet, sultry words, your words slip away from your mind. Every hot breath falling on your skin as he continues trailing his lips on your mound—going across, between, up, and then down—sends goosebumps through your body. Each time, you feel him taking a deep breath, as if soaking in your scent while he continues tasting you, all while murmuring pleasantries to tell you how intoxicating it is to breathe in the heady fragrance from your body.
Your thighs tremble as you struggle to hold back, not wanting to break his rule one more time even when you can feel your body twitching, your hips in desperate need to thrust upward into his lips so he would devour you. You fight so hard that you are beginning to find it hard to catch your breath.
“Please,” you softly beg, “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” Jimin mumbles against your skin.
“Please, Sir.” The desperate whisper comes out with a hoarse voice, and it takes away all of your focus.
Everything that happens next unfolds before you can stop it.
Jimin’s lips hover above your hot center, his warm breath coats the slickness that has been building between your slit. You feel the briefest of a kiss right before a finger slides back in, pushing deep just as his mouth clamps around your clit. Sparks fly underneath your eyelids while your inner walls begin clenching around his finger, and you cannot stop yourself from rocking your hips, following each pulse of pleasure that is brewing inside you as you push to grind your center against his mouth.
Anything you try to do to stop the waves of pleasure from continuing to build fails as Jimin slides two fingers inside you, curling them up against your sweet spot, and you immediately lose every last control you still have.
Your pussy draws tightly around him, and just as you feel the coil loosening and snapping inside you, he bites your inner thigh, hard, just a mere inch away from your pulsing core.
With a cry, your body jolts and arches, and your hips begin rocking in the same rhythm as the pulse rising in your body. Your body rises from the bed once, twice, and right before you cross over the edge at the third rocking, everything stops when Jimin laps the mark he left behind with his bite and pulls back.
“Still counting, angel? Where are we now?”
“I—” You gasp, finding trouble to catch your breath and to focus on his voice. “I can’t—”
“Don’t lie to me, angel. You don’t want me to add your punishment for defying me, do you?”
Sucking a deep breath, you try to count how many times you felt your body rocking against him. “Six, sir. That was six. I—I think.”
Jimin hums. “The numbers seem to be rising. Are you deliberately letting yourself go just to test me? Are you that curious to know what kind of punishment you’re getting if you keep disobeying me?”
You shake your head as you look up at him. “N-no, Sir. I wouldn’t dare.”
With a smirk on his face, Jimin presses his lips on your quivering thigh. “Prove it to me, angel. Try a bit harder to hold back. Remember, you’re not allowed to cum until I allow you to. If you dare cum, we’ll make it twice the count. Is that clear?”
Pressing your lips together, you stop yourself from crying out a protest. Only for another sound to come out of your lips when Jimin dips back down between your legs, and he isn’t using his hands this time to push you over the edge.
Without warning, he dips his tongue deep between your swollen nether lips, searching for your opening. You let out a sharp cry at the invasion but do nothing to move away. The sinful touch of his lips and tongue feels like heaven, it sends your body straight towards the height of pleasure.
Jimin stills your convulsing hips with his hands as he continues to move his tongue in circles, lapping at your pussy like a man with pure hunger. He trails his tongue up your labia, drinking in your essence and tasting every drop of your slickness, before moving back down until he reaches your tight back hole.
The sound of your moans increases, growing more intense the more your excitement grows in you when you feel him rimming the floret. His fingers work your lower lips, right where his mouth has been, which keeps flooding with drops of your arousal. Jimin smiles against your heat, as if he knows that you might explode and come to climax at any given time if he continues like this.
You try to focus on holding still, to stop the telltale of your orgasm from manifesting before you are allowed to make it happen. But Jimin isn’t giving up on testing your limit just yet.
He gives a few more licks before his mouth moves back up, finding your folds, his tongue slipping between your slit to press against your opening. When his tongue finds purchase, his teeth grazing at your clit, he presses a finger at your back entrance and slips a knuckle in. You are too far gone in the erupting pleasure to stop it from unleashing. Your orgasm takes over your body like a massive wave, and you let everything go with a scream.
Tears trail down your cheeks at how intense it feels, your release breaking down the barrier you try so hard to put up. Your back arches up to the ceiling when the wave of your climax comes rushing in, while your entire body quakes with your release.
Jimin kisses your skin with a soft growl, snapping you out of it. You are still struggling to catch your breath when Jimin gently lowers your leg and begins crawling his way up on the bed, covering you with his warmth. Making a sound with his tongue, he takes your bounded hands and carefully loops them around his neck. You open your eyes as he pulls you up against him, taking you with him as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.
His arms come wrapping around you as he brings you onto his lap, and you instantly collapse against his chest, turning boneless in his embrace. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to him, “I couldn’t—”
Jimin silences you with a gentle kiss on your temple. “That was quite a show, angel.” He begins kissing away your tears. “Quite an intense one.”
You gasp when you realise what has just transpired. The spasms of your unbidden release are surging through you together with your pulsing blood. “I tried—”
“I know,” he coos softly, soothing you, yet there is a glint of knowing in his eyes when he pulls back, his thumb brushing away the remaining tears on your cheeks. “Your body must have grown more sensitive from being stimulated continuously, and I wasn’t making it easy for you knowing that this might be the first time someone else is taking control of your pleasure,” he confesses with a smile on his face that doesn’t show any hint of remorse. “But rules are still rules, angel. You know that.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good girl,” he says, those simple words light up some fire in your chest. and your mind begins to spin, floating higher just as he carefully lifts you up from his lap.
Needing to have something to grab onto so you can ground yourself, your fingers find the strands of his hair, sinking into them before grasping at them. When Jimin finally releases you, he gently lays you back onto the mattress.
He smiles at you as he unlatches your arms from around his neck, bringing them up over your head again.
“Look at me, angel,” he whispers while looking at you with a deep, smouldering gaze, and you are powerless to look away. “Have you been keeping count of how many times you disobeyed me with that last release? What are we at now?”
Recalling what he says earlier about giving twice the punishment should you let yourself come to climax without his permission, you swallow hard before answering, “That would make it e-eight, Sir?”
“Very good,” he praises you once again, bringing back that same flutter in your chest when he smiles. With gentle movement, he carefully moves you up to the center of the mattress, giving you a brief moment of respite. “Now stay still for a moment. Are your arms hurting? You can lower them for a while as you wait.”
You bite your lips. “Can’t I take the silk tie off?”
Jimin chuckles. “No, angel. You need to keep those hands tied so I know you’ll behave.”
Slowly, you lower your arms to your chest, giving yourself a little break even if your wrists are still tied up together. “They aren’t too tight, are they?” Jimin asks while cupping your cheek. He watches you closely as you try to get comfortable against the silky sheets.
“No, Sir,” you answer after pulling and twisting your hands to test the tension, finding them quite loose, even if the bind will not fall apart if you pull harder.
“Good. Now try to relax and stay still for a moment,” Jimin says as he slowly moves away. “I’m going to prepare everything we need.”
The moment he disappears from view, your curiosity grows. You wish you could see what he is doing, but your position makes it hard for you to look across the room. Unless you want to defy his command and lift your body from the mattress just to get a look at him. After a moment of silence passes, you begin to feel uneasy.
“Jimin?”
“I’m here, angel. I’m not going anywhere far,” he reassures you, as if he knows how vulnerable you are feeling when he is not in sight while you are lying naked and frustrated.
But it doesn’t take long before he returns. You can hear him setting down a few items on the side of the bed and fiddling with them before making his way round to your end of the bed to return to you.
“Move all the way back on the bed, angel. Against the pillows, and keeps your legs apart, knees up.”
Licking your lips, you slowly roll to your side and rise on your hands and knees, before you begin crawling your way up the bed. You can feel his gaze on you as you move, your bare bottom exposed to his eyes, and your arousal still dripping down the top of your thighs. Feeling his gaze on you, your hips instinctively start swaying just to give him a show, even if you are struggling a little with your wrists still bound together.
You feel completely hyperaware of everything as you gingerly position yourself at the top of the bed with your back resting against the pillows. Your skin feels warm under his gaze, and while he isn’t the one touching you, your skin tingles as you gently lift your knees up, keeping them bent as you spread your legs apart for him.
The bed dips as Jimin climbs onto the bed to follow you. His movement is graceful, even as he crawls on the mattress like a predator coming to his prey. The dark look in his eyes distracts you enough to make you miss the item he is carrying in his hands until he kneels back, towering over you with his gaze running down your body.
“Give me your hands.”
You gingerly show him your hands, still tied together at the wrist with the silk slip. With a tug, Jimin releases the bind, freeing your hands together. You draw a gasp as the blood flows through your skin again, drawing a soft chuckle from Jimin as he watches closely at your reaction.
“Don’t look so relieved just yet, angel. I’m taking this off because I have something better to replace it.” He smiles to you, before revealing the bundle in his hand—a lengthy silk rope in the colour of red, almost as thick as the hemp rope you saw on the table earlier. “I wonder if taking away your control completely will help you submit easier. That’s why I brought this over to help us out.”
Swallowing hard, your skin grows warm at the implication of his words, right as he unravels the thick silk rope. Its length seems sufficient enough for him to have it wrapped around all over your body. To have not only your limbs restricted from any movement, but your entire self, taking away your control.
A complete submission.
Your heart races at a thundering pace, realising that Jimin is about to fulfil your wish. You gently move your body, arching your chest and trying to find comfort as he gets closer. A smile flickers on his face as he watches your reactions, and then it fades when he takes your hands in his.
“Did you know that years ago, when this club first opened for business, this room, specifically, had a different name?” Jimin questions you as he untangles the silk rope right before your eyes. “Back then, this room was called the Bondage Room.”
You lick your lips, doing your best to control your breath, to focus on his words, and not fall under the excitement rising inside your chest.
Jimin continues while he gently stretches out the silk rope until it unravels to its full length, “But with other, more discreet, and well-extinguished clubs housing Doms and subs, we didn’t have as much request from them to use this room, except for the regular Doms who have then become our earliest VIP members and would always come back for more. The smaller Play Rooms were being developed at the same time, and these rooms intrigued more people, so we added this special room as one of the optional Play Rooms to make it less”—a grin appears on his face—”imposing.”
“Intriguing,” you whisper with a hum, your voice coming out small. You clear your throat, hoping that your voice is steady when you speak again, “That’s quite an intense name for such a room. But—” You look around the room, only just as much as your position allows you to, and then add, “Well, compared to the rooms I’ve looked up online, I don’t think this room is—”
“Adequate enough to earn its name?” He softly chuckles. “Oh, these furnitures aren’t the only things the club prepared for the room to serve its purpose.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Do they come out of the storage when someone like me, or a client, requests them to? Just like—” You take a deep breath, then release, your eyes flickering to the rope in his hands. “Like these tools and toys we’re using?”
“Oh, they’re all here. They’re always ready to be used,” he muses as he pulls one end of the silk rope with one hand, and uses the other hand to tilt your chin up, drawing your eyes far upwards instead of stopping on his face, “You’re just not seeing them yet.”
You look up, and sure enough, you see them. Up on the ceiling, there are sets of lattices of steel grids and tracks. The muted flecks of light are reflected against hooks and carabiners tethered to thin girders on the corners of the room. You can even see those same hooks hanging right above your head, spread between the tall pillars rising on each corner of the bed which seem strong enough to hold the entire length of silk rope—or the hemp rope that Jimin prepared—should he choose to use them.
“We’re not playing with these hooks yet,” Jimin explains, as if he knows where your mind is running off to. “You’ll get there one day, once you’ve gotten used to it.”
You bite your lips, trying not to get too excited when you hear the implications he is giving you; the chance for more, somewhere in the future.
“Have you, um—” You are not sure how to ask, or if you have any rights to, but your curiosity gets the better of you. “Have you used this room before?”
The smile that Jimin wears on his face deepens. “I was the man they hired to put this room to a test before it was opened for the rest of the guests.”
His answer surprises you, yet it drives your mind spinning, both with anticipation and relief, knowing that you have gotten the perfect partner—the perfect master—to guide you through this whole thing. You immediately start looking at Jimin in a different light when your gaze finds him again, before you are lost in the intensity you see in his eyes when he looks at you.
Jimin lowers his face, holding his gaze on yours as he presses gentle kisses on your fingers, palms, and wrists, soothing the tingles you still feel from the first bind with his lips. His kisses linger right where the silk strip was wrapped around your skin, sending shudders throughout your body.
His gaze, his kisses, and his touch are so enthralling that you cannot look away, distracting you from his other hand as he slowly brings the silk rope around your wrists, starting with one before going to the other.
His fingers are gentle against your skin, and his gaze is soft. He easily takes away any tension you still have in your body when he begins his work. Instead of feeling anxious, you find your body relaxing under his touch, even as your control is being restrained as Jimin ties your wrists together.
Still with his eyes on yours, he finishes and leans down to kiss your wrist again, pressing his lips right on top of the silk rope holding your hands together. Once again, he does the same thing as before, testing the bind and slipping his fingers between the rope and your skin to make sure there is enough space to keep you from getting hurt.
“I need you to tell me everything you are feeling. Everything that goes through your mind. And don’t feel scared to use your safewords anytime you need them. Okay, angel?”
Your breath is heavy when you pull it in, but you still manage to answer, “Yes, Sir. Okay.”
He smiles. “Very good,” he says, as he pulls the tails from the silk rope and lays the rest of the lengths on either side of you.
“How are you now? Comfortable?”
“Yes,” you breathe out. Your voice fades to a soft gasp as his fingers run gently down the column of your throat, before moving up to your chin. His eyes are slightly dark and hazy as he runs his thumb across your lips.
“I’m going to tie you to the bed to stop you from moving and fighting me. Make sure to loosen up your body and relax. Don’t fight me if you don’t want to hurt yourself trying. Understand?”
“Yes. I understand,” you whisper breathlessly. Your voice is nearly drowned under the sound of your thundering heart as you anticipate his next move.
Another gasp slips out of you as Jimin presses a firm grip on your hips and guides you to slide forward. Settling deeper into the silk pillows, you try not to panic when he presses your palms to his lips, one side and then the other, and then stretches your now restrained arms over your head.
Using one hand, he holds you still in position, while he moves his other hand to gather around the silk rope. You feel a tug as he winds the rope around the bars on the headboard, tethering you to the bed frame so that you won’t be able to move your arms anymore.
He brings the rest of the rope down, wrapping it around your arms, down and under your shoulders. Then he winds it above and under your breasts, framing your soft mounds and giving them a bit of tension. You can feel your skin tightening under the bind, your nipples becoming slightly more sensitive as the blood in your veins seems to gather at those gentle peaks, that even a brush of chill air makes them pucker.
“Still green, angel?” Jimin asks you as he pauses briefly, gauging your reaction.
The sound of your pulsing blood makes it hard for you to think for a moment. But then his words sink in, and you try to test the restrain.
Expecting to feel pain and complete stillness, you are surprised to find that aside from the tension on your wrists and the muscles around your shoulders, you can still find comfort. Your arms may not be able to move, but your chest isn’t tight, and your breath isn’t restrained, even if every part of your body and your skin has become more responsive to every sensation being delivered to you.
“Yes,” you answer him as you test around the restraint one last time before settling back down.
“That’s good. Now relax.” Jimin then dips, disappearing from sight for a moment as he moves on the bed. You try to swivel your head and twist so you can see him, but once again, your position obscures you from looking around.
“Jimin—” You start calling his name, only to feel his hand brushing against your ankle. “I’m not leaving you, angel. You can trust me, can’t you?”
Exhaling a sigh, you whisper to him, “I’m sorry for doubting you, Sir.”
You have no idea why you are feeling insecure, to feel anxious whenever he isn’t visible. As if you need his presence to feel calm.
The restraints on your upper body make you feel self-conscious, vulnerable, yet liberating at the same time, knowing that the only thing you need to do is surrender. Only that you are still finding it hard to completely surrender your control when you have spent your entire life taking control.
A soft chuckle comes out of Jimin when he hears you. “Shh…no need to apologise. You are doing very well.”
His praise comes at the same time his gentle fingers begin running down your legs. You see him kneeling between your parted legs when you open your eyes, his fingers drawing circles around your ankles, up to your calves, heading towards your bent knees, yet your bare—and now damp—mound between your thighs becomes his singular focus as he does so. Leaning closer, he makes a humming sound as he appreciates what he sees when he runs his gaze down your body.
“You are beautiful, angel. Every inch, every curve, as if you are perfectly carved for me,” he murmurs as he bends down, pressing a kiss on the inner sides of your knees.
As his fingers continue to travel up your thighs, followed closely by his gentle lips, your hips begin to move on their own, grinding down, searching for friction that can ease the intense pulsing growing between your legs. You dig your heels into the mattress for leverage as your body twists and swivels, while at the same time, anchoring yourself, knowing that he needs you to keep still.
“Please,” you whisper, almost desperately, when you feel his mouth gliding across your skin. “I’m not sure if I can hold still.” Especially when you can almost predict what he is up to, the stimulations he has been giving you are still affecting you that you feel like you have gone off balance and have yet to recover.
All it took was to have one taste of his touch, his kiss, and the raw pleasure that he gave you, and your body is already craving for more.
Tiny spasms arise from your core once more as he kisses a trail down the inside of your thigh, causing your legs to tremble. Jimin smiles against your skin when he notices this. He moves his hands to give your thighs a firm grip when you try to close your legs, pinning his head at the center.
“Are you asking me to bind your legs as well?” he teases you with a sly grin on his face. Keeping one hand on your thigh to keep it still, he moves his other hand up to your center, finding your heat.
A moan slips out of you the moment you feel his touch on your damp center. “I…I don’t know,” you barely manage to answer, unable to think clearly with the way his fingers are gently grazing your folds.
Jimin lets out a soft chuckle and says, “Maybe I should. Just to make sure that you won’t be kicking my face when I get too close. But I’m enjoying the way you are wriggling with every touch. I want to see how you respond to me, so I won’t be restraining your legs just yet.”
You can barely hear any word he says when his kisses continue to trace a burning trail down one thigh, then going back towards your center. His hands slide to your hips, holding you steady as he dips lower. A brief touch of his lips on your folds draws a gasp from you, and then his tongue slips out, lapping briefly between your slick folds as if he wants to have a taste of you.
The sensation he brings to your body makes you cry out, your body begins shaking, your hips almost rising against his hold, yet he quickly withdraws and starts kissing down the other thigh.
“How responsive,” he murmurs. You can hear the tremble in his voice, as if looking at you responding to him is affecting him as well. “So beautiful.”
He pulls back, and you nearly panic when you feel his weight leaving the bed, only to feel it dip on a different side of the mattress. You bite down your sigh of relief knowing that Jimin is still there, but the shuffling sounds you hear next quickly have your curiosity piqued.
“I have something that I think you might enjoy,” he says as he slowly returns to you. “But obviously, I won’t be making things easy for you.”
His gaze flickers with something wicked as he looks down on you. His smile makes you swallow hard, making you wonder what kind of nefarious thoughts he has for you. “Do you remember what was our last count for your punishment, angel?”
You lick your lips as you try to remember through your hazy thoughts. “Um…e-eight?”
“That’s good. A bit too close to your limit, doesn’t it? Try to focus and keep that number in mind,” he says. His words sound cryptic, leaving you to wonder what he is about to do next. “Now, try to relax and stay still.”
Jimin runs one hand down the inside of your thigh, not stopping until he reaches your slick folds, once again touching the center of your heat with his gentle fingers. He slides one finger between your folds, moving it up and down your slit until you can feel your slickness coating him. Then he presses his thumb on your clit, moving it in circles, sending spasms of erotic pleasure through your body and causing you to lift your hips.
Then, all of a sudden, he stops.
With a gasp, you open your eyes, just in time to see him shaking his head while clicking his tongue. “What did I say about moving?”
Whining, you press your hips down to the mattress, trying your best to ignore the pulse fluttering in your core. “I’m sorry,” you moan, “I can’t control myself.”
Jimin hums softly. “Of course, you can, angel. Just follow my words. So how many do we have now?”
You bite your lips, holding back a moan as you feel his fingers pressing at your folds again. It is hard to focus when his touch feels maddeningly good, filling your head with blissful haze.
“N-nine,” you answer with a whisper, biting back the moan threatening to come out of your lips when Jimin presses his finger back into your slit, pressing at your entrance.
“Good job, angel,” he praises you, before pulling his hand away. “Now, remember to focus on your breath.”
You feel another pressure at your mound. A different kind this time. Instead of his finger, you feel a firm, cool piece of rubber or silicon pressing at your entrance.
Is it a vibrator? You wonder as Jimin continues pressing until the toy slides into your pulsing walls.
Grabbing the silk rope hanging between your wrists and the headboard and pressing your heels into the sheets, you try to find leverage to hold on, stopping your body from moving and wriggling against your restraint. The toy continues to slip deeper inside you, pressing against your sweet spot. You feel a different part of the toy resting against your clit once Jimin stops pressing it, while the rest of the length is perfectly buried inside your throbbing walls.
Nothing is happening yet. But your body has grown so sensitive after all of his teasing and his wicked foreplays, the muscles inside your slick pussy have been throbbing after your initial release, already needing more, that even the subtle pressure you feel coming from the toy feels almost too much for you to handle. With a flick of a finger, Jimin makes sure that the toy is settling nicely inside you, drawing a tiny moan from your lips while your body shudders in your restraints.
“Take a deep breath, angel. Slowly,” he gently guides you, his calm voice penetrating through the fog that has been blinding you, making you realise that you have your breath caught in your throat as you relish the peculiar sensation of being filled with a firm toy inside you.
Taking shallow breaths, you continue until your chest no longer feels constricted. With air in your lungs, everything in you seems to wake up, allowing you to relax, and to feel. “That’s perfect. Good job, angel.”
His praises keep coming, and your body keeps reacting to it. Your heart always picks up at his encouraging words, and your skin always grows warm. But more importantly, an unusual sensation rises from within, as if each praise he gives only brings your carnal desire back to life instead of soothing it to calm.
“Are you ready, angel? Remember to control your breath. Remember not to move or lift your hips, just surrender and take everything,” he says, his fingers rubbing at your clit, before gliding up and down your parted folds, feeling the area where you are stretched enough to allow the toy to fill you up.
“And lastly,” he whispers while leaning down over you as his fingers find the tip of the toy, his lips hovering close to your ear when he says, “Remember that you cannot cum until I tell you to.”
Before you can make sense of what he is asking you, you feel a click, and the vibrator starts buzzing to life. Gasping at the sudden rush of pleasure rising inside, you begin crying, yelping, twisting against your restraint, all while whining, “Oh, God. Jimin, I…I don’t think I can—” A gasp comes through you when the vibrator keeps pressing at your sweet spot as it continues vibrating against your pulsing muscles.
Through the haze of your arousal and pleasure, you are somewhat aware of Jimin’s attention. His gaze never strays away from you, as he focuses on your face, watching the slight arch of your body as you respond to the toy’s impact within your hot core, and mostly, to watch as you keep getting pushed towards your limit and fighting to hold it back.
As he watches your legs twitching, he immediately gives a light touch on the toy, pressing it further inside you, before he begins moving the toy as it vibrates inside you.
In and out the toy slips through your walls. Each vibration feels like it’s growing harder each time it is pressed into your depth, while its girth keeps pushing against your slick walls. And then he ends it by pushing it as deep as it can inside you, pushing until there is nowhere else for it to go, and nothing else for you to feel except for the maddening pleasure it is giving you.
There is no helping you against what happens next.
Everything inside you snaps. Your body rocks at the telltale waves of your climax, your hips moving to respond to each pulse of pleasure you feel fluttering inside your core.
Then his gentle fingers move around the toy, finding your swollen clit and giving it a light pinch. Immediately, you are sent right to the edge. And you are ready for it. Ready to embrace your final release, the orgasm that you feel building inside you, ready to take over.
But just when you rise from the mattress to let yourself fall over to bliss, the vibrator suddenly stops, leaving you panting and hanging right on the edge.
You open your eyes when Jimin’s touch disappears from your body. A slick grin on his face when he teases you, “Bad girl. How many does that one make our count, hmmm?”
Your brain feels like a mush that you fail to understand what he means, still annoyed from being denied of your release, until you realise—
“Ah…it’s t-ten.”
Tilting his head, Jimin makes a humming sound that feels like a taunt. “A shame, but that’s already at our limit, isn’t it?”
Slowly, you nod, completely losing your voice this time when the fear of punishment suddenly sinks in.
“Shall we try again?” Jimin asks you, “Should I give you one last chance to avoid punishment?”
You lick your lips and force your body to relax. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you wait until the last spasms of pleasure start to ebb before nodding your head. “Yes, Sir,” you whisper to him as you open your eyes, just in time to see his gaze darkening.
You feel the click rather than hear it, and the vibrator buzzes back to life, sending you an overwhelming feeling of pleasure so intense you find yourself on the verge of pain. Already, you are panting, but you try to control your breath, holding on as much as you can to not let yourself get thrown over the edge.
There is no helping it. You can feel it rising; the telltale of your orgasm coiling at the core, building up faster and harder than before. Yet you are ready for it this time. Taking a deep inhale of breath, you focus on breathing, on the tight clutch of your bind as you pull it downwards, and the way your heels are sinking into the silky sheets.
“You’re doing a good job, angel,” Jimin murmurs as he presses his lips up your inner thigh. He rests one hand on your lower belly, gently pressing down, while you feel his other hand gliding its way up your calve. “Let’s take it another notch and make it fun, shall we?”
The first thing you feel next is a nudge, as Jimin reaches between your legs and gently touches the vibrator. A resounding click is heard before the vibration intensifies. Its sound fills the room, going just as wild as the tremor it spreads through your body.
You let out a cry, which quickly turns into a series of moans as Jimin begins to move the toy in and out of your pussy, sliding it between your throbbing walls to incite various new sensations through your body, while pressing the part which meets your clit to have it nudging against your soft flesh, pushing the waves of pleasure to a whole new level.
“Please, Jimin. I can’t—”
You can almost hear Jimin’s murmur, yet his voice is drowned under the heightening pulse filling your ears. The vibrator continues to move under Jimin’s guidance for a few more thrusts, then you feel him bending over your center. The next thing you feel is the invading toy settling deep inside your hot walls, the push has it pressing against your sweet spot, and the last restraint holding your hips down vanishes as your body arches up.
You are close. So close. Incoherent noises continue coming out of you while your body is engulfed in the waves of pleasure. You are already coming so close to your release, and now you are hanging by a thread with need. “I’m—” you gasp, feeling it coming, the rise of your orgasm becoming uncontrollable, and you are powerless to stop it. “I—”
And then, once again, everything stops.
Right the second your climax is about to take form, the vibrator shuts down, taking away the rising heat, the intense pulses, breaking everything down while leaving you teetering on the edge. You are panting, your chest heaving as you struggle for air, and not too surprised to find your hips rising from the bed, chasing for that final release with slow, steady rocking.
But the moment you meet Jimin’s eyes, his lips forming a sly grin, you quickly realise what just happened.
“That was quite a shame. You were doing so well,” Jimin says with a soothing voice, while his gentle fingers are rubbing your hips as he lowers them back on the bed. “How many does that make our count in total, angel?”
Still gasping for air, and feeling the hum of your denied orgasm lingering in your body, making your skin grow even tighter than before, you find it hard to find your voice. Much less to answer. Then Jimin pulls the vibrator out of you when a gentle tug, causing you to hiss, both at the pressure you feel as it slides against your clenching walls and for the sudden emptiness which follows after.
You can feel your muscles throbbing, contracting, searching for purchase, yet finding nothing to grasp onto.
“Angel? Can you hear me?”
Swallowing a whine, you exhale a shaky breath and answer, “Yes.”
“Hmmm,” Jimin hums as he slowly crawls over you, his body hovering on top of yours, which helps you notice the tremors still rushing down your body. “Do you recall how many we have now?”
You gasp. “Eleven,” you whisper breathlessly as you look into his eyes through the haze of your arousal.
“Quite a good number, but unfortunate that it means we’ve gotten past ten,” he whispers with a teasing grin.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper back, only to have him leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose.
You feel his hand rubbing gently on your waist to soothe you. “Like I said, there’s nothing to apologise for, angel. But you do know what that means, don’t you?”
“Are you going to punish me, Sir?”
“Maybe,” he murmurs, with his gaze moving lower, taking in his work as your chest rises and falls under the restraint of the silk rope, “perhaps we can use this to test how much you can truly endure pain.”
His voice sounds almost like a purr as he says this. His eyes linger on your bare breasts for a moment, marvelling at your skin, the puckered mounds, and your hardening nipples.
“I have something else in mind that I want to try with you,” he says once his gaze finds yours again, “One last thing to try before I make you come. This is something that I very much enjoy, but I need to know if you are down to try it with me.”
“I think I’d like to learn more,” you answer him before biting your bottom lip. You are feeling too many things at once already, and still curious to see what he has in mind. After going through all his previous treatments—his tests—you decide it would only be right to continue and see through the end.
“I’m happy to hear that,” he says, sounding proud and relieved, which tells you that you have made the right call.
You wish nothing more but to please him. It is a peculiar feeling, when your reason to come to this club was to seek pleasure, and yet, you find yourself being the one to feel the need to please your beautiful host.
Just like any other sub would to their Doms.
Jimin moves away from the bed, though not completely out of view. But he takes away the warmth that he made you feel with it.
Your body is still on high alert. The remaining spasms of your unbidden bliss are nothing more but a slow, languid pulse in your body, yet they still show no sign of waning anytime soon. You may not be able to see him from this angle, but the quiet lets you know something is about to happen. The clinking sound of a chain moving that you hear as he returns gives you a hint of what comes next.
Needing something to hold on to, something that can help keep you grounded, you entwine your fingers with one another and clench them.
You try to focus on the sounds again, to steal a glance at what he has prepared for you, but he quickly distracts you with his sinful lips.
Positioning himself once again between your legs, he runs his hands up the curves of your body, his lips quickly following close behind as he trails a soothing kiss on your skin. Starting from your hips, to your waist, and then he brushes his lips across the underside of your breasts, following the stretched line of the silk rope binding you there, before continuing his way up the mounds.
“How lovely,” he murmurs, palming your breasts and squeezing them gently. “And so perfect.”
Your chest is filled with warm flutters as Jimin continues cherishing your bare breasts, stroking and pinching them, before he leans down and begins kissing and licking, sucking and biting, taking his time as he gives equal attention to each side. Shocks of pain and pleasure shoot through your body. His eyes flicker to your face, searching for your eyes as he fastens his mouth around one nipple. He flicks his tongue around the flesh and starts sucking on it until the tender bud turns firm.
Your eyes flutter close at the sensation he is making you feel. And then his mouth leaves your skin, hovering close as he blows softly on the hardened nipple for a brief moment, before a searing pain suddenly consumes you.
Your hips buck at the rush of pain, rising from the bed, and you scream as the sensation tears through your body, feeling it going straight down to your pussy. Your eyes fly open and you gaze down, noticing the small clamp attached to your nipple, glimmering in gold under the dim lighting falling over your body.
You bite your tongue when a specific word is threatening to slip out of you. But you force yourself to focus, finding a different word that won’t immediately stop everything, yet would be enough to give you a moment to process this pain.
“Yellow!” you gasp as you try to find purchase by tugging at your restrained wrists. “Oh my God, yellow. Please.”
“Sshh, it’s okay, angel. We’ll slow down,” Jimin whispers to you in a soothing voice. His gentle fingers run down your torso, tracing your skin in a way to soothe you, to distract you from the pain.
Slowly, your cries turn into soft gasps as you try your best to calm down. In reality, you are too overwhelmed with everything; the pain as the clamp bites tightly at your nipple; the shocking pain that is slowly shifting into pleasure as it reaches the depth of your core; and the way your body is humming in response to the myriad of sensations happening all at once.
Jimin slides his hand down between your legs, distracting you from the pain as his fingers slip between your slick folds. You feel him pressing at your entrance, before the tip of his finger pushes forward, teasing you with a touch, only for him to pull back. With his lips hovering over the clamp, Jimin blows slowly at your skin before he crawls up and brushes his lips under your ear.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve chosen the smallest clamp and have it on the lightest setting. I have to attach the other one before we continue so you need to relax.”
You begin to shake your head violently, your arms pulling at the silk binding you to the bed. “No, not yet. Yellow. Please. Just—just one moment.”
A deep sigh escapes him as Jimin rises above you. Propping himself on his elbow, he looks into your eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks you with a small smile. “Let me try this one. We’ll get it over with and have both of them on, and if you are still at yellow, I will remove the clamps, will that be okay?”
“Y-yes, I think so,” you whisper as you try to make up your mind.
“We need to be sure, angel.”
You bite your lips, feeling conflicted. You can barely breathe. Your nipple is throbbing under the clamp, yet your clit is pulsing with the same cadence. It feels maddeningly good, and at the same time, confusing.
How could this much pain push you so close to the edge of ecstasy?
But the more you feel it, the more it is making you curious to see what comes next. So you welcome this new sensation, believing that there is pure ecstasy at the end.
And because you trust Jimin with everything you have.
You lift your gaze to Jimin, finding calmness under the heat of his gaze while his hands are moving on your skin in calming circles. The pain is still there, slowly growing dull as Jimin continues to distract you with his touch. And there is also your desire to try everything all at once tonight. To experience everything that he has to offer while you have the chance to delve into it.
With a deep exhale of sigh, you nod your head to Jimin. “Okay, yeah. I’m ready.”
“What a brave girl,” he whispers, and he immediately slips his finger into your pussy. Your muscles spasm around his finger, welcoming him and the delightful sensation that comes with it.
The combination of pain and pleasure nearly overwhelms you. You moan softly while pressing your hips on the mattress to hold back from rocking into Jimin’s hand, to do anything to release the intense pressure gathering inside you. Your toes curl against the sheets when Jimin’s firm lips capture your free nipple, sucking and licking and biting, teasing your soft bud until it grows just as firm as the other.
His fingers join his mouth soon after. Then he starts pinching lightly as his mouth comes off your skin. Seconds later, pain explodes over the sensitive nerve endings as the second clamp clutches on.
This time, though, the pleasure from the steady thrusts of his fingers, combined with the press of his lips on your skin as he trails kisses around your soft flesh and up towards the column of your throat, are helping to distract you from the pain that you are starting to embrace it.
Jimin covers you with his body while you are still processing this. Warm, bare skin and firm muscle are pressed against yours, with his upper chest hovering over the clamps. The small, thin chain connecting the clamps together lay between your breasts. It feels icy cold as the chain digs into your skin under his weight. But his warmth feels so soothing, and you wrap your legs around Jimin’s waist to welcome him in an embrace, desperate to feel him.
All of him.
He makes no move, other than the hands that are still working to light up your senses, and waits until your eyes are wide open before he speaks.
“Still yellow?”
“Nnhn—”
Jimin’s chest rumbles with his low chuckle. “Talk to me, angel,” he murmurs, bending down to kiss the tip of your nose, then your chin. “Are you still against the clamp?”
You try to wiggle beneath him, still feeling his fingers buried between your legs, still moving in circles between your folds, between pressing at your entrance and moving around the clit. The pleasure it brings is the only thing your brain can process for now, while the pain seems suppressed, with a constant feeling of a dull ache throbbing with each pulse of your blood rising under his touch.
“The pain,” you whisper with a gasp, “It’s grown a bit dull.”
“Hmmm, does that mean it’s back to green?”
“Yes. I—” Another gasp slips out of you when his fingers return, sliding back into your pussy. Your upper body arches in response and the shot of pleasure snaps the pain on your breasts back in place, which only makes the throbbing in your core intensify. “Oh, I feel weird.”
“It’s only natural, and I’m helping to distract you from the pain, which should help get your mind away from the pain. Don’t you think this helps?” he asks as he pushes his fingers deeper inside you.
“Mmmh—” you moan, unable to form words. “Yes, it does.” You let out a sigh when he presses against the right spots. “It feels good.”
He makes a soft hum. “I bet it does. But we can’t let you have it all just yet, can we?” Jimin teases you with a small grin, “We haven’t gone through your punishments yet.”
Hearing this has you widening your eyes. “But I thought—”
“That the clamps are your punishment?” he asks you with a playful chuckle. “No, angel. This is a part of the play. It’s meant to show you how closely linked together pain and pleasure truly are, and that pain can sometimes show you the immense pleasure that can come with it.”
Your mouth falls open for a brief moment, surprised, but you can quickly understand what he meant when you can feel it; the throbbing pleasure inside your legs that comes in tune with the pulsing pain.
“Oh. I see.”
Jimin’s smile widens. “Shall we continue?”
Licking your lips, you hold Jimin’s gaze as you nod your head. “Yes, please.”
“We counted until eleven, was it? What do you say about one spanking of that lovely bottom to each violation you made?”
Your breath hitches, but a whisper still manages to slip out of your lips. “Yes, Sir.”
Pulling back a few inches away from you, Jimin frees himself from your legs and pulls his fingers out of your heat. You watch him licking his fingers, humming at your taste, before he begins to run his hands down your body. Avoiding your tense breasts and the clamps attached to the peaks, he trails down your waist with his fingers, then your hips, before pulling back his hand as he continues to gently feel your thighs, still bent and trembling at the knees.
“This time, I really do think it would be better to bind your legs. Ready?” Jimin asks you as he slowly pushes the back of your thighs, coaxing you to lift your legs further upward.
You hold back the urge to fight against it, choosing to watch what he is about to do next as he presses your folded legs almost to your chest with one hand and uses the other to reach and lift the tail end of the silk rope binding you to the bed.
You watch his fingers closely as they work on the rope, and Jimin, realising that you are watching him cautiously, immediately begins to explain, “I’m not going to tie you up too tightly, just getting your pretty legs out of the way.”
His reassurance helps release all the tension in your body. You try to relax against the pillows, just as much as your bind allows you to, before whispering, “Okay.”
Jimin presses your thighs down to keep your legs folded. With gentle hands, Jimin works the silk rope around your legs. He starts by winding one end of the rope around your left thigh, going under and around your folded knee until your leg is tethered to your upper body with your feet dangling over you. He continues to do the same to your right leg, the fabric holding it up the same way as the other.
This should feel awkward, especially when you are made to settle in an odd angle such as this. Yet as you follow his words, making sure to loosen up your muscles instead of straining them and soon find that the bind only makes you feel snug and safe as it settles on your skin.
And the way Jimin works the rope around your body is mesmerising to watch. A part of you wishes that you could watch everything from a different angle so you could appreciate his work, while another part of you is beginning to feel the daunting realisation of your vulnerability now with both your arms and legs bound.
With your feet no longer pressing against the mattress, you have lost the leverage you had to retain any semblance of control. Right now, you feel like you are floating, with many different sensations flowing through your body that you can feel everything all at once; the dull ache spreading through your breasts, the constant pulse building from your now exposed center, and the way his light fingers are hitting every nerve ending in your body once he is done, as he runs his hands down your legs, your thighs, your hips, before stopping there.
“You are a marvellous sight to look at, angel,” Jimin murmurs softly as he gently runs his palms down your thighs. “I wish I could take a picture of you right now so I can keep this moment in my memory forever.”
Your breath hitches. His praise tastes like honey, while his words are like a spell sending you floating higher in bliss. So high, that you barely notice the move of his fingers as he secures your ankles with the rest of the silk that is wrapped around your upper thighs. Once your legs are perfectly folded above you, spread wide enough for him to slip between them but not enough to make you feel uncomfortable to the point of pain, his work is complete.
“Perfect,” he says as he sits back, marvelling at his work. Marvelling at you. “Absolutely perfect.”
His fingers trail down your inner thigh. You are not ticklish by any means, but his light touch keeps sending tremors all through your body that you cannot control. At the same time, the delicious ache in your arms and the helpless feeling of not being able to move seem to give you a new thrill, and you become hyperaware of the way his fingers dance on your skin, how his palms are grazing gently down the curves of your hips.
You pull at the silk that binds your hands as he traces his palms down your bottom cheeks, now lifted slightly from the bed with the way your body is folded. He rubs his palms gently on your skin for a moment, then he looks up, finding your eyes. Holding his gaze on yours, he makes it so you cannot look away by giving you a sweet smile, keeping your attention locked on him as he pulls one hand back and lands it back on your skin with a hard slap.
A gasp is drawn out of you when you feel the sting. Tears fill your eyes, yet left with no chance to spill when Jimin immediately rubs his palm against the tender skin, soothing the pain away. “Make sure to keep count, angel. How many was that?”
“Hmmm,” your voice fades to a moan as the dull ache once again lights up the pulsing desire between your legs, “O-one, Sir.”
“And how many are we supposed to have?”
With a low groan, you answer faintly, “Eleven, Sir.”
“Good girl,” he says, as he continues rubbing his palm on your skin, taking the pain away. “Now keep counting. Make sure I can hear your voice so I won’t make a mistake and give you more than what I’m supposed to.”
Fear grips your chest at the thought of Jimin adding more spanking as punishment, to add more pain, so you quickly nod your head, just in time for his hand to land on the other cheek for another hard slap. “Oh, God—” you gasp, before mustering some will to call out, “T-two.”
Again, Jimin rubs his palm on the stinging pain, soothing it until it becomes dull. Then, while you are getting distracted by his touch, his other hand returns, slapping the underside of your thigh. “Three—” you call out with a gasp, which quickly turns to a small moan when he rubs the pain away.
“You’re doing good, angel,” he whispers, and you can almost hear the smile in his voice when your body trembles at how close to your center his fingers are each time he rubs across your skin.
Another slap lands on the other thigh, right at the skin where your plump bottom meets your thigh. Your hips twitch at the sting, and you are too powerless to stop it. Neither are you capable of stopping the heat oozing from your pussy as the pain from his punishment throbs, sending a rapid pulse right to your core.
“Four,” you cry out, almost breathlessly, before you sigh at the soothing touch that follows next.
He repeats the pattern for the next couple of blows, switching from one side to the other, hitting the tender skin of your bottom, before he then moves to the apex of your thighs, always closing in towards your pulsing pussy. And never once do you fail to count his strikes.
“Five…six…seven…”
The sounds of his palm slapping on your skin bounce against the walls, always followed by the sounds of cries, gasps, and moans when his next touches soothe the burning pain on your skin into dull aches.
“Eight…Nine…”
At this point, your voice has become so hoarse, both from crying and gasping so much, that the sound of your counts keeps fading into whispers. You can barely feel the pain from his strikes, when something else has risen stronger in its place. Jimin lays another strike. The sound rings in your head, but instead of crying in pain, you simply let out a strangled moan.
“Ten,” you count with a sigh, amazed at how the throbbing on your punished skin seems to melt together with the dull ache on your breasts.
Jimin smiles, yet says nothing. Not even to warn you before a hard slap lands at your center, right at your slick folds. Your body twitches with the sharp pain, yet pleasure begins scorching through your body soon after. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure goes straight into the deepest part of your pussy that you nearly climax right there and then.
Jimin slips a finger inside you, soothing the shock from his touch with gentle strokes. In and out he moves his finger, and you buck in his grip to feel more. To gain more. Only to have his voice snapping you back from the blissful fog.
“How many was that, angel?”
“Eleven,” you find yourself crying, although your voice suspiciously sounds like a mewl. “That’s eleven, Sir.”
You let out another, louder moan as Jimin sips his finger out of you and slides his hands underneath your body, cupping your bare and tender bottom and holding you firmly over the mattress. “Open your eyes for me. Let me look at you,” Jimin says, making you realise too late that you have your eyes closed.
There is a smile on his face when you slowly open your eyes. His own eyes light up with pride.
“You took your punishment like a good girl,” he gently says. His praise makes you feel warm inside, your heart swelling with pure joy which you cannot possibly explain. Your body is humming with need, intensified by the gentle touch he gives on your tender skin. “I surmise you deserve a reward for doing such a good job, don’t you think?”
“Mmmm, yes. Yes, Sir. Please,” you whine and beg while your body rocks into his palms, wishing that you could go further, closer to his hot body, to be able to feel his desire pressing on your body.
The need to feel him draws a soft mewl from your lips when you feel Jimin leaning over you, his body positioned between your spread thighs, your bound legs becoming the only things left keeping him from completely covering your body with his.
“I want to see you come. To feel you when you succumb to pleasure,” he murmurs, his voice sounding close, and you can feel his warm breath against your lips when he speaks, “How should I do it, I wonder?”
Your eyes flicker to his lips just as he does the same to yours. Licking your lips, you hold back your breath. Realising that Jimin is close enough to kiss, you anticipate him claiming your lips the same way he has been claiming your body. You take a sharp inhale of breath when he leans closer, so close you can almost feel his lips touching yours.
And then you feel it, his lips brushing against yours. A gentle, barely-there graze. You pull at your restraint to arch upward, meeting him for that kiss. Only for him to suddenly stop.
Coming still, Jimin jerks his head back and shakes it, as if he hadn’t been conscious in his leaning into kissing your lips, and the brief touch of your lips on his immediately snaps him out of it. But he doesn’t pull his hand away from the soft, tender skin of your hips. His fingers glide upward, slowly, until you feel them gliding over your slit.
A soft moan slips from your lips, your eyes staying on his lips, still longing to taste him even when he is giving you pleasure with his hand to keep your mind off of it.
“Eyes on me, angel,” he commands and you obey without thinking, still lost under his spell to do everything that he desires.
He holds your gaze as he screws one finger into you. It immediately draws a whimper from your lips. Not out of pain, but out of sheer need.
You writhe against the bind holding your wrists together, resisting the urge to grind down and take his finger deeper. Biting your tongue, you focus on the delightful way he is filling you, touching you, teasing you by pushing you close to the edge yet slowing down before you can get there.
Jimin leans his head down until you are connected temple to temple and whispers softly, “Are you okay, angel? You’ve been rather quiet.”
Something about him checking on you brings up the flutterings in your belly that have nothing to do with the raw desire you are feeling from his touch.
Everything about him seems to be in contrast with one another. His voice that doesn’t always reflect in his touches, when one becomes gentle while he is firm with the other. Also with his caring way in making sure that you are completely in this moment while he makes you burn from the inside out. And the effect is immediate, as you feel that heat rippling deeply inside you, pushing forward to have it released.
“Yeah,” you breathe out, and he presses his thumb roughly on your clit, once again stealing your words.
Jimin tilts his head and laughs softly. “Yeah—what?”
Swallowing hard, you struggle to find your voice. “Yes, I’m okay,” you answer with a soft whimper, “Sir.”
A smile grows on his face. “That’s good to hear.” He shifts and wedges a second finger inside you.
He begins moving them in and out, curling them like scissors, gliding back and forth between your pulsing walls. You buck your hips, nearly rising from the bed as you rock together with his thrusts.
“Oh, God,” you moan softly as the pleasure rocks violently through your body. “Please, I need to come!”
“Not yet, angel,” he nearly barks his command with how firm his tone of voice sounds to you.
The chain between your breasts is lifted, and he pulls at it just enough to give pressure against your sensitive nipples. Whatever force connected the ache on your nipples to the heat in your pussy shatters you from the inside out. You feel like you are hanging by a thread, your blood flowing hot through every part of your body, pushing against the clamps, the bind, and the muscles contracting in your pussy.
“Come now, angel,” Jimin commands firmly. With one more tug on the chain, he pulls until the clamps detach themselves from your hard nipples, and that’s when you come apart.
Jimin’s name comes out of your lips in your cry of pleasure. Your body strains against the silk that holds you securely as you come in a blinding climax.
For that moment, you are lost. You are no longer in the room with various instruments meant to fulfil anyone’s darkest fantasies. You are no longer bound to the bed, to yourself, and instead floating in a dark space that makes you think you are suspended way above the bed, your silk bonds connected not to the bars on the bed’s headrest, but to the ceiling.
It takes a few moments before your mind begins to clear, and you find yourself plunging back down to the room before you get to feel everything again; the bind wrapped all over your body, the bed, and Jimin’s warmth.
But you are still high in bliss, still drowned in the waves of your pleasure that you aren’t conscious enough of the movement happening nearby. Needing to pull you back to the present, Jimin rubs your arms, then brushes his lips gently on the tip of your nose, your chin, and then your face, while crooning, “______, come back to me.”
His voice fades in and out, drowned by the sound of your pulsing blood. But his touch draws you out of your fog until you slowly open your eyes. “Are you with me, angel?”
It takes a moment for him to succeed in bringing you back completely, with his kisses pulling you back to him while making you wish even harder that he would kiss your lips before he continues.
“Y-yes, I’m here,” you whisper, still breathless. Your chest is tight with how rapidly your heart is beating in your chest. “What”—a gasp slips out of you—”God, what was that?”
“That was what we call being in a headspace. It’s common to happen once a sub surrenders completely and allows the pleasure to take over.”
Blinking your eyes rapidly, you recall reading such a thing during your research. You never knew that it would be possible for you to feel anything like it. But now that you’ve experienced something so intense, you cannot imagine ever thinking that anything else would ever be enough.
Jimin positions himself between your spread legs, his hips resting against your center and his lips hovering on top of yours, once again promising you the kiss that never comes.
“You responded so well to the clamps, beautiful. So well,” he murmurs against your lips, almost trembling with excitement. “There is so much I want to show and introduce you to, but so little time.” He continues to murmur as he moves to kiss the tears that you don’t realise falling down your cheeks. “Do you want more?”
Your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel his desire poking against your folds, letting you know that he has yet to gain his fill. “Y-yes. But I don’t think I can.”
“Will you let me try?” Jimin carefully asks you as he caresses your shoulders, his fingers finding the strands of your hair that have grown messy and tangled.
Drained, yet still feeling the desire to feel him inside you, you give him a vague sound of agreement as you nod. With his fingers, Jimin tugs at the silk binding your legs, releasing them so he can lower them back to the bed. He spreads your knees, his gentle palms pressing on your inner thighs to keep you spread open for him. Still riding the high of your orgasm, your body jerks as he slips a finger inside of you.
A soft mewl escapes you as you feel the spasms inside your pussy once again, pushing around his digit this time as he slides in deeper. You almost cry yellow, but then he leans down, and finally, begins pressing his lips on yours to wipe away any apprehension you feel about going forward.
His lips are gentle, and his kiss melts you from the inside and out, drowning the sounds you are making as the kiss draws a different kind of sensation out of your body. With one hand moving in and out of your hot walls, and the other holding you firmly at your hip, you feel like you are going to explode for another reason but the intense pleasure he has promised to give.
“More,” you breathe against his lips when he releases you from the kiss, his fingers leaving your heat to let you feel your hot walls clenching into nothing. “I need you. Please.”
“I’m here,” he simply whispers. And then his mouth is on yours once again, with his hand tangled in your hair. His body moulds into you as he covers you with his warmth, his hard cock pressing in the notch between your legs.
“Is this what you want?” The head of his cock prods your entrance and you let out a mewl, unable to hold back any sound as the need to have him inside you becomes so intense.
“Yes, Sir,” you gasp when he rocks his hips and applies a little more pressure.
“Does that feel good, baby?” He pushes some strands of stray hair away from your eyes, then gazes down with an intensity in his eyes which heats you up from within.
Your mouth falls open as he gently eases his way inside, parting you with his thickness. “Yes,” you manage to answer breathlessly.
“Good. Now take a deep breath, and remember not to cum until I tell you to,” he murmurs, taking your hips with both hands and tipping you upwards to the right angle. Perfect enough to take him without straining you from your restraint too much.
Then, with nothing more but the sound of his soft moan, Jimin drives in deep. So deep that you can barely catch your breath as he fills you. As he moves, he starts kissing you again, his tongue fucking your mouth with the same rhythm as his thick cock.
With a gasp, you welcome the pleasure that comes, while almost wishing that you have some free rein to move on your own instead of being under his control.
Because you cannot get enough.
You nip his lips, kissing back with all you’ve got, even to the knowledge that he is for sure going to punish you later for trying to top his dominance. But you need this like you need air to breathe. Like you need water to drink. So you drink him as a whole by kissing him back just as roughly. Passionately. Until a sound comes from his throat and his hips buck forward to push roughly into you.
Your eyes roll back with every thrust. You are half gone with delirium. Almost to a point where you can barely remember your name.
Jimin’s lids droop as he owns his pleasure, embracing it while giving it to you. His fingers tighten to a bruising strength around your hips as he goes faster, pumping harder, rocking every inch of your being while shaking the whole bed with the pace of his fucking.
He pulls you up until your body is half lifted from the bed, and keeps thrusting into you, holding your hips and sinking so deep you start feeling him everywhere.
He sweeps you against him as he claims your mouth with a kiss so fierce it intensifies the heat in your body, nearly sending you over the edge before you are allowed to.
But it really shouldn’t be hard for Jimin to send you to another climax in the first place. Your body has grown overly sensitive that each thrust he gives you keeps sending you straight towards the edge.
So you do your best to hold on. To follow his command. To hold back before he gives you permission to release it. Until it finally comes.
But it never comes.
Instead, he holds back, coming to a pause as he pulls your body to his chest. You can feel that he has yet to find release even while he keeps giving you pleasure, and from the tremble you feel coming out of his chest, you know that he needs it. But instead of chasing it, he pulls out of you and flips you over. Making you face the headboard as he pulls your hips back and enters you from behind.
In this position, he drives even deeper. His hips snap and thrust, throwing you forward with his force. The bind around your hands is now twisted and tightens fiercely around your wrists. You use it to pull yourself and brace your arms forward, holding onto the headrest to keep from flying into the wall. His hold on your waist might be strong, but the force of his thrusts against your body while you are bound and helpless makes you feel like you are flying.
As if your body is defying gravity.
“Jimin—” His name slips from your lips with a gasp. The words you wish to say to him hang at the tip of your tongue, yet your mind is too muddled to figure out what you want to say to him. Because it feels too much; the pleasure, the intense way he is claiming your body. But at the same time, you wish to beg him to let you find your release. To have more.
“More…” You start begging him, “Harder.”
Jimin grips one side of your hips and grabs a fistful of your hair as he slams into you. The moan that comes out of your mouth is sharp and sudden, drawn by the feeling of him filling you with his hard length.
You feel him leaning down against your back, his lips brushing at your ear with rushed breaths coming out of him. The hand that settles on your hip moves lower, finding your center before the tips of his fingers find your swollen clit. The touch is brief, yet it sends sparks of lightning under your eyelids when the pleasure peaks.
“Is this what you need, angel?” Jimin asks you between his thrusts without missing his steady rhythm.
“Yes,” you cry out, “Yes, Sir!”
Seeing—and feeling— the way your body welcomes him, Jimin repeats the action and presses against your clit, rubbing it in circles. You shudder as he fills you, as his thrusts continue relentlessly, and the satisfaction he brings sends your body almost to its limit. He gives four quick pumps, then another hard, deep one, pushing at the right spots, and you feel the telltale of your orgasm teasing at the seam.
Jimin releases your hair and palms your hips to drill deeper, his hips keep smacking against your bottom as he pumps in and out.
You hang your head and let out a whimper. The need to savour this raw pleasure has grown so strong, but your body has gone through multiple climaxes that you are not sure if you can last much longer.
The pleasure grows intense, making you dizzy with lust, with raw desire. It comes with a shudder that Jimin relishes as he reaches down, pressing his thumb at your rear opening until you feel him slipping in. A sharp cry slips out of your throat, to the point that you are nearly choking when each firm thrust he gives keeps pushing the air out of your chest.
“Not yet,” he warns with a growl when he feels the spasm of your climax building up.
“Please. Oh God, please, Jimin,” you find yourself begging, though your mind is muddled with the need for release that you are not even completely aware of the words that keep shamelessly spilling out of your lips with your desperate plea. “Please, more. Harder. Please, Sir. Oh, God—I need to come.”
Jimin’s thrusts grow more erratic, yet he is still going hard. “Not yet, angel,” he says with a strained voice, almost as if he is speaking with his jaw clenched tight.
He slams into you, hard, nearly pushing you forward. You are not sure if you can keep your arms up for much longer. The numbness keeps growing as your body continues getting ravished. He seems to notice you losing balance, because he pulls his hand away from your rear and smoothly wraps one strong arm around your waist to help hold you up instead of falling face-first into the pillows. This brings him closer to you, his bare chest pressing to your back, and the thrusts feel deeper even without as much force.
It feels so good, it makes you even more delirious. You feel as if you are soaring, as the rightness of being taken completely by him brings you to a new level of pleasure. You have already found how easy it is to be vulnerable with him, to let down your barriers and let him lead, so you can easily give your pleasure to him.
A curse slips out of his lips as his grip on you tightens further. His breath becomes heavier, you can hear and feel it with each in and out. You can feel his thighs shaking against yours, showing you that you are not the only one hanging on the edge of release.
He lets out a deep groan and thrusts deeply, moving in and out, in and up, almost lifting you from the bed, your knees rising with the force of his lovemaking. He pulls you up and back against his chest as he straightens back up and taps your clit with his fingers in rapid succession.
And this almost does you in. With a gasp, you cry out to him, “N-no, I can’t—I can’t hold on.”
To your relief, Jimin whispers to your ear, “Ready to come, angel?”
He moves his hand up from your waist to cup your breast. His fingers find your nipple and pinch, bringing back the pain which the clamps had ignited on your skin, while he presses hard against your clit to set you off.
You arch at the mix of pain and pleasure. Thrusting your breasts onto his hand, a hoarse cry escapes your lips. “J-jimin,” you call his name with a gasp.
“Yes,” he murmurs. “Take it, angel. Take it all.”
He groans as he bites out his command, “Let yourself go, angel. Let me feel you come around my cock.”
With his words, you let go.
You let out another cry as your inner muscles begin spasming intensely with the wave of your orgasm. You nearly flip backwards, your head hitting his shoulder as your body convulses in your climax. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, squeezing and pulsing around his thick length.
“That’s it, angel,” Jimin murmurs in your ear. “Your pussy feels so good around me.”
He nuzzles your neck, pressing kisses there. Beyond the blissful fog, and the stars filling your eyelids, you can still feel him; rocking gently from behind you, prolonging the waves of pleasure rushing through your body while he waits for you to ride out your high.
His cock is still rock hard inside you, rubbing your insides in a delicate manner which feels intoxicating, thrilling, and overwhelming at the same time.
“How are you, angel? Still with me?” he whispers to you while you are still riding your high, still rocking your hips against his, savouring the delectable hum of your orgasm with him buried inside you. He keeps giving you slow, languid thrusts while he waits for your response.
“Hmmm—yes…”
Jimin lets out a chuckle as he leans down, taking your ear between his teeth for a light bite. “You don’t think we’re done yet, do you?”
Your hips jerk when he pushes deeper into your tight walls, his hard cock pressing into your heat. “But it’s too much,” you gasp, your body growing rigid with how sensitive you have become.
“Just one more, angel. Give me one more,” Jimin murmurs against your skin as he begins rocking his hips again, stirring back the pleasure that has yet to come down completely, dulling the ache and the soreness when your body easily complies, quickly adjusting to this new high. “You can do it. I know you can.”
It feels delicious. Delectable. Too much and not enough at once. You are flying so flipping high, drunk in pleasure, drunk on him, on every drop of need and desire that he has somehow woken in your body and soul.
“Fuck, yes. Arch that back for me, angel.” He drags a palm down your spine and lays a light slap on the side of your bottom cheek.
And you arch for him, doing it just as he asks of you.
His breath grows heavy. His movements start getting jerky, and a bit too rough. Not for your pussy, as the pulse of desire only seems to be getting stronger, but for your back and shoulders, your body getting drained and used up from all the strenuous movements.
Before you can say anything about it, Jimin shifts, leaning forward and laying his torso over your back. He reaches forward, bracing one hand on the bars right next to where your hand is keeping a tight grip to hold on. His other hand moves back to your breast, pinching your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and tugging just like he did with the other.
Moans after moans keep slipping out of you. He sees this as a sign that you are high in pleasure instead of pain, so he strokes his hand down the plane of your stomach and finds your clit again.
A shudder rocks through your body, and he bites your ear right before that shudder turns into something more. “Not until I tell you, angel.”
With a gasp, everything stops. You fall quiet and listen. You have learned to wait, to follow his pace as he comes almost to a complete pause to let the spasms of your climax fade.
“Do you understand? You don’t come until I say you do.”
His voice in your ear seems deeper, and it flips some kind of switch in you. Your pussy contracts, but not enough to push you over to the edge. Your toes are curling beneath you, feeling the anticipation strengthening the pleasure that keeps building, and building.
Jimin pulls you back and suddenly flips you over. You are now facing him, with your back down on the bed, yet your hips are lifted until they are resting over his thighs as he enters you again.
“I want to look at your face when you come for one last time,” he says, as he curls his hands around the tops of your thighs, wrapping them around to grip your ass and pulling you back and forth over his cock.
You find yourself back in a state of delirium, feeling ecstatic with the way he is handling you with his skilled hands. You know better than to fight it, realising that this is what you need. So you simply submit to the sensations building inside you, letting go of any inhibitions left in you so you can take everything that Jimin is giving you.
“That’s it. Look at me, baby. Just like that.”
You are feeling euphoric with intense pleasure, but it doesn’t stop you from basking in the heat of his gaze. He moves his fingers around your clit in circles, then switches, as he slides his hand under your ass and parts your cheeks. When you feel him tapping your pucker rim with a finger, you are completely lost.
“Now, angel. Come for me.”
The guttural tone of his voice sounds just as urgent as the desire peaking through your body. For the last time, you shatter completely, your hips snapping up and down as the release uncoils faster than a whip snapping in the wind.
The wave of your orgasm hits you intensely, stronger and bigger than the last. You let out a scream, the sound coming louder as he squeezes your nipples, hard, bringing back the same pain that he caused you with the clamps, only with his hands, all while he keeps pushing and rubbing his cock hard inside you.
While you shatter in pieces in your release, Jimin puts you back together when you feel him pulsing inside you. With a strangled gasp and a rough groan, Jimin succumbs to his release. You feel his warmth filling you up, some drops of his cum escaping with each slow thrust he is giving you before he finally comes to a complete halt.
“Marvellous,” Jimin murmurs, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he tries to catch his breath. “You are marvellous, angel. Way better than I could ever imagine.”
Then his lips find yours again, taking you in a deep, lingering kiss. It makes you forget for a moment where you are, and that you are still bound to the bed—to him—when the heat in your body sizzles to warm. Right at that moment, as your tongue dances against his, you finally understand the reason why Jimin had tried his best to avoid kissing your lips at the beginning of your playtime.
The kiss feels sensual, too intimate, that you melt into him for a reason which has nothing to do with the intense play he had just introduced you to.
It feels too intimate for a kiss to be shared in a place like this.
And yet you do nothing to stop it. Instead, you let him pull you tighter into his chest as he kisses you deeper, until the bind, the club, and everything else around you cease to matter.
You feel drowsy, tired and spent, yet filled with content, that you can feel yourself slowly falling asleep.
It doesn’t help that Jimin’s soothing touch keeps making your body feel more lax, that you wish for nothing more than to lie back down on the bed. Sweats and other essences left behind on those fancy silk sheets from your playtime be damn.
But you also have no wish to pull away from his warmth that feels so comforting, enveloping you in a way that makes you want to curl up and doze off until you are ready to step away from this invisible bubble of yours.
Right now, you just want to savour this moment. Because this…
This is why you keep coming back, searching for such pleasure by opening yourself up to your darkest desire.
It’s the calm that comes after the heated moment that you just shared with a partner who desired the same thing you did by coming to this place. A place where your reality no longer matters. The contentment and peacefulness that come over you once the heat slowly subsides.
This is when your mind clears. When your mind can rationalise everything that has been going on in your life without your anxiety blinding you. When you can stop feeling as if you have no control over your life.
Submitting control to someone else’s hands is never meant to make you feel powerless. It’s always meant to be the opposite, as even in complete submission, when you are met with the right Dom as your partner, you are the one to hold the control. And there is nothing more fulfilling than finding pleasure at the end as your reward. To feel even more powerful when you can finally take back your control when your playtime is over.
That was the very reason why you requested to have this kind of treatment for this session. What started as a deep curiosity about the dynamic has grown into a desire which you secretly harboured to experience. And after weeks of having your life spiralling out of control, you saw this moment as a chance to test the theories you’ve learned about submitting to pleasure.
You never expected to find yourself reaching something as divine as being in a headspace, where everything felt so serene that you simply forgot everything. And you certainly didn’t expect to also experience something like this; the gentle, caring touch that comes afterward as Jimin eases you back into reality.
To be taken care of and spoiled and praised after you allow yourself to be taken over by lust.
Taking a deep breath, the soft floral scent of freesia mixed with a sweet, fruity fragrance fills your chest. It makes you smile as you breathe it in.
When you first entered the room, the air was thick with rich, aromatic trails of burning incense. The typical scents that have always been spread within the exclusive rooms in the club to set the perfect ambience for the guests as they enjoy their night in this place. This room, specifically, was filled with earthy sandalwood, mingling with the sweet floral touch of jasmine and fresh lemongrass.
Merely moments ago, those delicate scents were replaced by the heady scents of sex and sweat, which had grown so thick after your intense playtime with Jimin. The scents that are still present in your skin, albeit faintly, under the scent of body wash clinging to your skin after the warm bath that Jimin had given you once he was done with you.
As you lean into Jimin’s chest and the comforting touch of his fingers, you can still feel everything; the warm water from the bath which soothed your sore muscles; the calming scent of the soap which Jimin lathered on your body; and the gentle way Jimin took care of you through it all.
Just like how he gave you light massages to ease the numbing ache on your arms and wrists after releasing you from the ropes, he is still rubbing your skin, easing the soreness left behind from the bondage.
“I think,” you hum softly the moment you feel his lips pressing on your wrist, “If you keep rubbing and kissing my skin like this, I might just fall asleep right here.”
This causes Jimin to laugh. His voice is velvety and soft that it feels like a warm blanket that makes you want to sink further into his embrace.
As you move in his lap, the front of your robe falls just enough to expose parts of your breasts once again, and you make no move to fix it. It doesn’t do much to steal away the warmth you feel in your body. Not when his hands are doing just enough to make up for it.
Jimin’s gaze follows the fallen fabric, and a distaste look appears through his eyes. Not at the sight of skin, but at the way the robe seems to be blocking his view. Even if he was the one who had dressed you in the robe once he was done cleaning you up in the bath.
Clinging to his robe that is now secured in place, you look up to tease him, “Are you thinking about stripping me down again, Sir?”
With a light chuckle, Jimin shakes his head. “I wish I could, angel. But you’ve given me more than enough already. I’m not sure you’ll be able to give more.”
His lips are soft as they move slowly against yours, coaxing your lips open and delving inside to taste you for one last time. His hands grip your hips and wind their way up to your waist, doing it slowly, as if you are just as delicate as the silky robe now covering your skin.
“Everything okay, angel?” Jimin’s voice is soft, just enough to push through the newly blissful fog rising in your head. The rumbling in his chest nearly sounds like a purr, and you find yourself wanting so badly to lean deeper into it.
“Yes,” you answer with a content sigh. “Everything’s just marvellous.”
Jimin lets out a soft hum as he kisses the top of your head. “I couldn’t agree more.” He leans back and tilts your chin up until you are looking up at him. “This was much better than I ever could imagine. Thank you for giving me this opportunity,” he says while looking deep into your eyes, and you can almost swear you feel the insides of your chest turning into jelly.
“I should be the one to thank you.”
The smile on his face softens. “It’s quite unfortunate, but I suppose this marks the end of our playtime.”
“Bummer,” you tease him with a playful pout, though your comment doesn’t have a bite or bitterness to it, even if you do feel the disappointment of knowing that your time is up.
Kissing your pouting lips, Jimin takes your hand and helps you rise to your feet. He waits until you are no longer swaying before he lets you go, but not before guiding you towards your door.
“Do you need my help?” he offers one last time right as you reach out to press the button to open the door. Still feeling reluctant to do so, you hold back as much as you can, for as long as you are allowed to, just to stay like this with him for a bit longer.
Looking at his face again, knowing well enough that the next time you meet him, there will be a mask shielding his beautiful face from view, you commit every detail of him in your memory.
“No, I think I’ll manage,” you answer him once you feel like you have enough control to tame the buzzing in your body.
Jimin looks at you with the same gaze he had during playtime, before he nods, and that look fades. When he opens his eyes again, he straightens himself up the way he always does when he is acting as the host for the club, already shedding his master’s role to put on his original role as your host, even without his suit on.
“The car for your ride home will be waiting for you downstairs once you are ready to leave,” he gently says, though with the familiar tone that he uses when he is setting up your arrangement with the club. It stings a little to hear it, yet it also helps you to slowly prepare yourself to return to the real world.
“Until we see again,” Jimin adds, and you immediately stop him before he can turn away.
“This special offer—” you hesitantly ask, “Is it a one-time thing?”
Jimin doesn’t answer you right away. But there is a glint in his eyes which seems to speak a thousand words before he speaks. It is the same look that he gave you when he made the offer to be your master. “Whenever you are ready to set up your next appointment, let your host know that you are requesting for your preceding master.”
A flutter of a smile grows on your face. “I’ll make sure to remember.”
He watches you press the button at your door to open it, yet you remain in your position to watch him go as Jimin turns away to the other side of the room. Without taking another glance over his shoulder, Jimin presses the button to open the door to his side of the wall and steps out of the bedroom.
And then he is gone.
— Jimin—
“I heard that you recently made use of the Bondage Room again. Is that true?”
The day is still quite early for Club La Rouge to be filled with its regular patrons. But the VIP lounge already has some guests unwinding to end the day. Some with drinks in their hands, some enjoying imported cigars while sharing light conversations with their peers and sponsors, while others are simply here to fill their time of leisure before diving into the club’s evening bustle.
Sitting in front of Jimin is not just a regular VIP guest of the club.
Kim Seokjin is one of the owners of Club La Rouge and the head representative who deals with the club’s activities and patrons directly. He is also Jimin’s employer. The same person who first brought Jimin to be a part of the club years ago.
Jimin had already expected that at least one of the owners would catch wind about him entering the special Play Room not as a host, but as a willing participant. He should have expected that person to be Seokjin, who is always so strict in keeping up with all the happenings in the club, whether it is something that involves the club members, his co-owners, or his favoured staff.
“Yes, I have,” Jimin admits as he sits back on his loveseat, meeting Seokjin’s eyes. “I’m surprised it took you this long to bring this up. It’s been a few weeks since it happened, after all.”
Seokjin gives him a smile in return. “You and I both have been quite busy with the new development for the club, so I haven’t thought about bringing it up,” he admits after placing his cup of tea down on the table between them. “How did it feel to be back into it again? I know that you haven’t been active in the BDSM club scenes for a while. I haven’t heard of you coming to other clubs to find a sub or spend any night with the club’s escort for a play for weeks.”
Jimin can’t resist the laughter coming out of him. It’s typical for Seokjin to be so blunt in bringing up his past endeavours in the middle of a conversation. He isn’t wrong, after all.
For a long time, Jimin has always been familiar with the BDSM scene, even long before he became involved with Club La Rouge. He had spent many nights frequenting the BDSM club scenes in the city to look for the perfect sub to play with, yet never once could he find the desirable release that he was searching for.
When he first met the owners of Club La Rouge years ago, he knew that he had finally found the perfect place for him to satiate his desire.
Just like what he shared with you that night, Jimin was first brought in to test out the new sex rooms before they were publicly launched for the club’s members. Specifically the Bondage Room and the smaller Play Rooms that were built to complement it. He even helped with the design, the main concept, and provided lists of instruments and items that the club needed to create the perfect space for its patrons to live out their fantasies to the fullest.
All thanks to his past experience and knowledge of the sex scenes that most of the owners were still considered novices at the time.
He remained in the club after the initial development as a full host in exchange for good pay each month and free access to any of the club’s benefits—as long as he followed the club’s main rules as many others were required to. The arrangement had worked perfectly for Jimin. For a time, he felt that his involvement with the club was enough to satiate his needs that he would only visit the other BDSM clubs whenever he needed a change of settings.
It all changed the night he took the role of your master, when he finally got a taste of you and your complete submission.
“I’d have to say that it was quite—” Jimin mulls over for a moment to find the right word, “Liberating.”
Seokjin’s lips rise to a grin. “Quite the choice of word,” he says, “I suppose she was worth changing your own rules and boundaries, then?”
Jimin resists a groan. Despite all the restricting rules that the club has set for its staff, it was his own boundaries that prevented him from even considering involving himself with a club member. Specifically, a member that he is fully responsible for.
He did change a lot of things that night. Crossed many boundaries. Risk his own connection with the club.
All for you.
Was it truly worth it? He wonders with a side grin on his face. Yes, absolutely. Even with the consequences that followed.
Days have continued to pass by since then, and have quickly turned into weeks. Yet the night Jimin spent with you in the Play Room remains in his memory so vividly that he can almost relive it each time he closes his eyes.
He can still feel the touch of your skin at the tips of his fingers, and breathe your delicate scent through the heady scents of the club’s signature fragrance that he has gotten accustomed to after working in this place for so long. Oftentimes, all he simply needs to do is reminisce a small part of that night, and he would be able to hear the sounds of your voice that came out of your lips when he pleasured you.
It has messed with his mind so badly that he hasn’t been able to return to the club scenes nor has he been able to enjoy them as much as he used to when he eventually did try to venture into other clubs and find a new sub.
At the same time, it has left him waiting. Anticipating. For him to feel a deep craving of raw and unbidden pleasure that only you could fulfil. It has been a while since he last felt this way.
“For now, it’s worth more than anything,” Jimin admits, surprising himself to feel this way. It must be quite surprising for Seokjin as well, as the man immediately laughs.
“I wonder if she thinks the same. Do you think she’ll come back to request another chance?”
Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to scold me? Put me on a timeout for fraternising with an exclusive member?”
Seokjin lets out a scoff. “As one of the earliest hosts who helped run the club from the ground up, you have privileges that no other hosts have. I’m only surprised it took you this long to find someone you’d risk everything to,” Seokjin says with a teasing grin. “So? Is this going to be just a one-time thing, or has she decided to try a new master now that you’ve crossed one of her checklists?”
“Well,” Jimin clenches his jaw at the thought of you giving control to a different master, until he recalls your last words before he left the room that night.
“This special offer. Is it a one-time thing?”
Jimin eases back in his seat, no longer feeling tense, knowing that you had at least harboured a desire to repeat that night should the chance be given to you. Even if it’s nothing more but a small wish. “She hasn’t revoked her membership since that night, so I think we can expect her to return.”
He can only hope that you haven’t decided to change to a new host for your next session, so he can be prepared for whatever kind of arrangement you will be making when you return.
Weeks have passed since that night and you have yet to make any arrangements with the club for a new session. It shouldn’t be a surprise, since it was one of your patterns to wait a few weeks between booking a session with the club before Jimin gifted you the new privilege that you now have.
But it doesn’t stop him from expecting news from you each time he sits down at his office to arrange different sessions for other club members that he is hosting. He tries not to think too much about it when he returns to his office this evening to open up the club’s schedule.
This week has been slow for the club, presumably due to the fact that most of the VIP members in his quota had recently joined the latest club event that was held at the end of the year. Jimin is in the middle of updating the members list to prepare for the start of the new year when a notification arrives on his system. He doesn’t think much of it when he opens his tablet to check the incoming email, until he sees the content and hope blooms for him.
As if fate is on his side tonight, your name appears on his screen.
He quickly skims through your email, reading through the reservation that you had just sent in for your future session which is set for the weekend. His smile grows wider as he reads the detailed specifications that you have added in your email, until he reaches the end, nearly leaping out of his seat to shout and celebrate when your message says,
“Request inquiries for one private session.
Choice of accommodation: The Play Room.
Special theme request: Complete Submission.
Specifications: Bondage. Role play. Blindfold. Open for pain and punishments.
Choice of partner: Request for the Preceding Master.”
summary: when you get insecure about being constantly needy for your boyfriend, jungkook shows you that it's okay.
word count: 6.4k
warnings: the plot is TEENY TINYYYY in this one, pure filth, mirror sex, dd/lg, little space, new roles for the wine universe omg, jungkook is a caretaker, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, dry humping, they're so in love it's sickening, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), fingering, squirting, daddy issues, heavy dom/sub dynamics, handjob, penetrative sex without condom, cowgirl, plushies used in a sexual situation.
luna's note: i'm so sorry i couldn't get this out for you on xmas day since i was so sick, but let this be a gift for the new year! i missed writing smut sooooo much, and i can't wait to get back to it starting january. this was so fun omg. i missed wine sm. my daddy issues be daddy issuing so this has something new in it, i'm super excited abt it!! i hope you like this and that you enjoy reading. make sure to let me know what you think in my ask box!! mommy luna is baaaaackkkkkkk. HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR. <3 (one day early but i felt like saying it idc) BIG MWAH.
luna's necessary side note: i missed u all so damn much wtf. OH, AND HAPPY BDAY TAEHYUNGGGGGG.
The mirrors, lining the walls, are nearly all fogged up once you take a step inside the vast rehearsal room. A certain mellow, yet familiar song led you towards the right door—one that made your ears perk up in curiosity because it reminded you of something you’d heard a long time ago, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not until you rearranged your bobas into the crook of your elbow and slid open the door.
The stuffiness of the room only added to the sensual aura of the song, and your legs nearly gave out on you.
No BS by Chris Brown.
The song that started it all.
Jungkook, clothed in black from head to toe, seems to be locked in his own world as he moves his body in the center of the room, his chest and feet hitting each beat without a singular mistake or a misstep. And when the chorus of the song flows in, his whole figure follows suit. It rolls into the rhythm like the slowest, most passionate wave of the sea that splits in the middle and begins to course down your sternum. Your cheeks darken with a feverish tint. You feel every inch of his movements inside you as if he were there, and when Jungkook spins and sinks to his knees, propping only one Nike-shod foot on the floor, and he hip-thrusts before he continues those rippling motions to the last beats, the muscles of your thighs quiver on reflex and your dampened private parts flutter.
You did not expect to see that when you texted Jungkook you were going to visit him just because you finished work early and you could get boba before your favorite shop closed. You feel as though you just got blessed twice.
TGIF, indeed. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d celebrate the work week ending like you are right now—with two bobas in your arm, cooling your heated skin, and with your eyes witnessing erotically angelic artistry in a humid room. And with your sensitive parts outright dripping, too, because the song ends, enveloping the room in a silence that welcomes in Jungkook’s heavy breathing as he slumps back onto his back, his chest lifting and falling in the air.
You feel fuzzily faint. He made you wet in record time and he hasn’t even touched you. Nor has he looked at you.
Instinctively, your hand grasps your mango boba and you press it against the side of your face. Smile to yourself as a lightbulb flicks to life in your mind.
Leaving behind your purse, you take both of the delightful treats and walk over to him. His eyes are closed as he’s absolutely unaware of your presence, your steps soft and sly. His round, sweat-splotched nose puffs out hard breaths that move through you and you coo to yourself silently before you place both of your feet on either side of him. You squat down, careful not to let your bum touch his lap, and you get his boba ready, placing your own on the ground. And with the loudest roar you can muster, you press the drink to his glistening cheek.
He yelps. His fear-filled eyes fly open, his hands quick to catch you as you tumble down on him in reaction, your lungs submerging the room in your obscenely loud giggles. Tears of laughter cloud your vision, preventing you from seeing the horror twisting his face, but the little you saw was enough to douse your body in extraordinary elation. The tapioca inside the long cup swirls as it swims ferociously in the thick, violet liquid, mimicking the roundness and the blackness of his pupils with utmost perfection.
You swipe a finger under your eye, speckles of your glitter smearing its pad. You lean down, your laughter subdued as it slowly fades out, and you can see the horror smoothing out and transforming, seamlessly, into a relieved adoration that taps against your heart. You kiss him with the boba now cooling your cheek as well. Leave behind a hard peck on his perspiration-coated mouth that makes him softly hum into this physical exchange of love, and just before you draw away, he breathes out against you with his nose. And that doesn’t just tap on your heart, it knocks on it most warmly.
You love him so much. Too much. So much that the simplest of his body and human reactions make you feel things. Things that normal girls don’t normally feel.
Good thing you’re not a normal girl.
You’re a messed up girl. And you’re a girl in love. Have been for the past year.
“You scared the shit out of me.”
Your mouth widens into a pleased grin, and the light bulb that shone in a bright yellow melts into a warm, dusky pink tinge that floods your spine—only because he squeezes the dip of your waist that you’ve been working hard at carving out. A new thing you’ve implemented into your daily routine after you’ve gotten a new job that doesn’t allow you to fuck him all day long like you used to. The sex has gotten even better with time as the wine of his love ripened and matured. To such an extent that you found yourself craving it more than you had in those times when you were just seeing him for sex. Two rounds aren’t enough for you—and you remember well that after two rounds you were usually too exhausted to even keep your eyes open. Now, because you have matured too, your vessel for his love and his liquid stars has grown, needing more to feel satisfied to the fullest. The new job kept you away from him, the long hours teased you. So much that your bathroom breaks were too frequent and obvious and you spent them locked in a bathroom stall with one hand in your panties and your other holding your phone to your ear while Jungkook guided you, his hand, too, in his pants, locked in the same place on the other side of the line, whispering encouraging, lewd instructions that sent you shaking over the edge in mere minutes.
Instructions that got him in trouble at his workplace, hence why he had to come up with a solution. Because your thirst was never quenched in minutes. His voice was too pretty, and too soft.
Gym five times a week for you, dance lessons for him, physical distance for the both of you. A perfect solution for a perfect problem. All that sexual frustration was released during those exercises filled with delicious pain and you went to work the next day free of that carnal lust swishing in your veins. You focused on your work, and you didn’t have to take long bathroom breaks. You didn’t even need a spare pair of panties in your purse anymore.
It worked—and it’s completely crazy to you that all it took for you to break your public purity streak was seeing him dance like that.
You sit up and with your swift movement, the squelching sound of your cunt rubbing up against your juices sounds out across the room. Your cheeks heat up with a different shade of red as embarrassment runs down your spine, especially as Jungkook’s brows twitch upwards and his eyes widen, his large hands lowering down a little, following the curve of your figure that leads to his favorite part of you.
Your hips.
A blush scatters upon his cheeks, too. He heard it.
He calls out your name, sweeping his tongue across his abruptly dry and chapped bottom lip. Your name, not princess, not baby. Your government name without any embellishment of adoration.
You’re in trouble.
Your embarrassment pinches you at the two dimples on the small of your back. “Y-yeah?”
Jungkook opens his mouth, but he pauses for a moment. As if he could sense where the emotion touched you, his long and warm fingers find its icy traces that it left behind while still keeping the crooks of his thumb anchored on your hip bones.
“Did you get wet for me?”
A shiver cascades down the slender column of your back, a visible one for his eyes to see that coax out his softness for you, evident in the roundness of his bottom lip that he juts out, triggering your unprecedented shyness. What a drastic shift of dynamic in your relationship you perceive this to be. All along, for a year long, the atmosphere of your shared love has been nothing but an environment of safety, where you could unfold your sexuality as naturally and confidently as you wanted to without an ounce of coyness. Introduce an unyielding desire and a well-meaning solution for it into the equation and watch the change bloom.
For some reason, you’re reminded of his past, now distant, liking of a certain degradation kink that once grew like vines across your intimate relations with him. The memories travel along your veins—the vulgar pet names, the calling out, the rough handling—and crest at your core, moistening the center of your panties even more as your walls pull in. And the way Jungkook takes that bottom lip between his teeth divulges to you quite clearly that he feels it.
Which is a bad thing because you can’t lie about it.
But… you can’t divert his attention from it.
You slosh his drink in your hand. “I got you your favorite,” you chirp, the boba twirling beneath your hand while his identical pupils remain unmoving, unblinking, fixed on you. You manage a smile, but its staticness crumbles as soon as you realize that Jungkook isn’t really influenced by your change of topic. “Taro boba. I got a milk one, too. Mango. You wan—”
His hands descend down to your thighs, squeezing, halting the tide of your words, the progression of your trick. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt and before you know it, he lifts you just a little bit to maneuver you and make you sit on the shaft of his semi. A low gasp gushes out of your throat as well as a leak of your dew not only onto the fabric of your underwear but onto the material that now clings to his manhood.
He twitches, hardening beneath your pussy, and gooseflesh pricks your skin.
“Mango? You always get Taro with me.”
The glitter from your eye make-up that you smeared across his cheek during your kiss twinkles underneath the dimmed light and he doesn’t guide your hips to move against him. No, he rolls his own—ever so slowly, ever so discreetly. His hands merely hold you down, but nothing about it is forceful. Subdued pleasure springs up your sternum, pooling in your head, making you woozy as quickly as if he were pouring booze down your throat. And when he heightens the pressure enough that he twitches again, you recognize he’s doing the same move that is a part of the choreo he was practicing.
Your heart hammers against your chest. Your nipples pebble against your cotton top, and Jungkook’s eyes fly to them, catching and taking in their aroused state, perhaps even coaxing it out of them.
A sigh leaves his mouth. He fists the hem of your skirt, dipping his head into the current of the pleasure he’s giving both of you, and so do you.
You just can’t help it; you can’t fight it. When your toe touches the surface of the wine of your shared love, nothing can keep you from taking a dip. And the same applies to Jungkook, too. In this case, he’s dripping in red, having slipped entirely into the current, one arm out of the water, fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling you into the water.
And something about his desire lessens your strange coyness. His lack of solution offering brings down the stigma, setting you free. And you missed him. You missed him terribly. Haven’t felt his dick in five fucking days.
You place your hands on top of his.
A small fire begins to burn within the snug blackness of his eyes. All of a sudden, the noises he stifled come out in soft, almost inaudible growls that cause your clit to throb and your nails to dig half-moons into the skin of his hands. A green light from you for him to enjoy this—and he does. Jungkook throws his head back, his pretty chin pointing to the ceiling, and his big chest heaves.
It is only at this moment that his eyes leave yours just to bask in this forbidden pleasure.
Anyone could walk in—the doors aren’t locked, nor are they shut at all. Anyone could think the practice room is available for personal use, without a single soul present. And anyone could see you riding the horsey because the sight of him lost in the vivacity of it all forces you most carnally to give him more.
You hump him.
“My friend got it the other day and she said it was delicious,” you breathe out, speaking of your unordinary choice of boba. The movements of your hips are small, minuscule, but hard enough that his knuckles get painted with a shade of ivory that sprinkle your chest with little shocks of joy and pride. A thick vein bulges on the side of his throat as Jungkook tries his best not to let out the entirety of his noises that his body is brimming with—and for that very reason, you grab his hands and place them very brattily on your perked, full breasts. “I wanted to try it and see for myself.”
This feels good. This feels like the time before you got older and greedy. And the feeling is validated when Jungkook whisks his eyes back at you and grapples your tits, squeezing them so hard that it’s you who bites their bottom lip until you nearly draw blood, your body set on fire with a blue desire that kisses his big hands with such roughness that he whimpers.
But the moment is ruined all too soon.
A myriad of high-pitched voices is carried through the thick air, accompanied by giggles. You gasp, looking behind you, and before you know it, you’re up on your feet and Jungkook’s unopened boba is knocked to the side, now rolling sideways towards the mirror.
You go to fetch it, but a strong hand on your arm prevents you from doing so. You spring back to your place in front of him and you glance up at him in confusion just to see him frowning down at you.
Sweat drips down his temple. The tips of his brows almost meet in the middle, but swim away and relax at the sight of your puzzlement. The voices grow louder, your breath hitches in your throat and Jungkook’s hand lifts and pets down the back of your head, awakening the butterflies in your tummy as if he’s done it for the first time in your life.
A yearning to kiss him consumes you.
“Stay here,” Jungkook murmurs, keeping his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. “If they see us like this, they’ll walk away.”
You nod, understanding if you were to do as you wished, the girls would’ve taken it as a sign to enter the room and perhaps mingle. But if they see you stuck in an intimate moment like this, they quietly and quickly leave without any unnecessary fuss.
Smart man.
“I’m also so fucking hard that I can’t even hide it,” he continues, lowering his tone even more. It penetrates you, making your clit thrum, and as your grin blossoms, so does a romantic shade of blush across your cheeks. You envelop your arms around his torso, propping your chin on his chest, radiate your love up to him, and Jungkook smiles down at you. “As per usual.”
He kisses your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer before he lifts his head and focuses his gaze at the situation at the door. You don’t care much because you dwell on the hot and cold sensation he left in his wake from the warmth of his mouth and the iciness of his lip ring—something you’ll never get used to and something that will always ruin your panties.
“They’re gone.”
And so is he. Off to shut the door and lock it, peeking through the little rectangular window to check if anyone is around. Once the coast is clear, you sense him behind you as you bend to pick up his knocked off boba and you stumble upon his gaze in the mirror as soon as you straighten your spine.
A hungry look is wrung into his features.
The corners of his eyes droop in arousal, narrowed as they are. His pupils are blacker than the tapioca in your hands. His teeth nibble on his bottom lip impatiently and you flutter all over, taking in his state and his large stature towering above you. You could melt into him and never be found again, hidden in the crevices of his body that you still believe are there for you. Hidden forever, safe and sound.
He’s delicious through and through—and it’s been five days since you last had a taste of him.
Five torturous days.
“You must be thirsty after all that dancing,” you say, breathless and thirsty yourself. His chest heaves, colliding into your back, and all those soft crevices of him touching you brings you back into that ravenous, greedy state you can’t get out of so easily. Dangerous, he is. Utterly, utterly dangerous. Erasing your clean streak like that. “Let me open it for you.”
You go to turn around and fetch his straw from your purse, but he doesn’t let you. He encages you where you are by a mere placement of his hand on your hip, fingers back to gripping the fabric of your skirt. He can rip it off if he likes—he can buy you a new one and make your heart elated anytime.
The idea hardens your nipples, making a show for him all over again.
He pushes you flush against him, earning a sultry gasp from you. The fingers that gripped your skirt elongate across your mound while the other graze your chin, elevating it a little, ensuring a strong eye contact.
You flutter. Can’t take it anymore. He has to take you home and fuck the shit out of you before you—
“I am thirsty,” he purrs, his lips borderline touching yours. “But for something other than bubble tea. Care to guess what it is?”
Your breath lodges in your throat. You know well what he means, but out of habit and out of personal pleasure you pretend to be dumb. You want to hear him say it—you want him to be as detailed as he was during those naughty afternoon phone calls that got him in trouble with his boss, who told him off for having long work breaks. You want him, his filthy mouth and even filthier, condescending manners.
You want the old times—and for the sake of your desire, you remain silent. Twist your brows in feigned confusion. Widen your eyes a little. Puff out your cheeks.
Your adorableness makes him twitch against your hip. Jungkook sucks in a breath. Takes the hand that caressed your chin and glides it down your neck, your chest, your stomach that flexes under his touch until he winds up at the waistband of your skirt. There he stops and he tilts his head to the side, sweeping his tongue along the pillow of his bottom lip.
“What I want,” he starts, his breathing quickening. “Is the little juice that is in here.” He skims the pads of his fingers down your mound, beneath the hem of your skirt and along the sopping surface of your clothed feminine flesh. You mewl, your hips instinctively riding his fingers, following the sailing, back and forth motion. Your adorableness deepens with the influence of the sudden pleasure by the way it scrunches up your features and Jungkook whimpers again, stopping his motions when he feels you timidly soak his fingers. “I want it so bad that I can’t go one more minute without it.”
You glance down more to see how big of a mess you’re making on his hand, but as attuned as he is to his role, brought about by his arousal, Jungkook takes your breath away with his following actions.
He moves you closer to the mirror. Bunches up your skirt even higher so you have a perfect view of your panties, which have a large wet spot in the middle. Little rivulets of your juices flow out of their confines and down your inner thighs, proceeding to make a puddle on the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Jungkook’s fingers are shiny in the light, coated in your lustfulness, and he drifts them up and down that stain—over your swollen clit and sensitive lips.
“See? Here. This little wet princess part of you is what I crave.”
And just like that, owing to his words, you flourish into the little girl you haven’t been safely dwelling in for months, sliding into that role as easily, tenderly and meekly as if you were slipping your feet into your fluffy slippers. You regress, beautifully, making sweet little noises into his neck as you go to hide in there, poking his drink into his hand, silently telling him to take it while you rub your sticky thighs together, eager to get the uncomfortable throbbing feeling away. And he does, solid in his own caretaker role, sinking down onto his knees, placing the drink on the floor against the mirror. But he remains there, looking up at you, eyes big and round, yet still steady, sure, mature and irrevocably dependable. And you sense those eyes to be telling you to take your panties off and give the Daddy what he craves.
You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear and drag it down past the middle of your thighs, letting him handle the rest, but you catch his eyes watering ever so gently—and the discovery causes your heart to skip a beat. He’s taken in the role you’ve slipped into, having watched it happen in real time in all its glory, and perhaps he’s nostalgic, or perhaps he’s just euphoric, but he takes the time to bask in it all.
And he kisses the cotton fabric of your panties first before he kisses the soft flesh of your thigh. Drags it down. Lets it pool in his hands at your ankles. Peeks up at you.
“The way you willingly give yourself over to me never fails to mesmerize me,” he purrs, pressing another kiss to your thigh without taking his eyes off of you. Your stomach jumps, energy-charged butterflies scurrying to the front of your stomach in longing to kiss him, too. “You’ve been feeling bad about being needy for me. Worked hard for weeks to be a good girl, but what you don’t know, princess, is that you were a good girl even when you called me up at work asking for me,” he continues, lips brushing against your skin with every pronounced vowel. He edges around your knee and begins to pepper gentle, wet kisses there. Your mouth falls open—and you discover this place is a spot of more sensitivity than your neck. You double over, grabbing a tight hold of his tousled, yet soft hair, and Jungkook moans against you. “And you’re a good girl right now for giving yourself over to me, even when you’re so careful about being horny for me in public.”
Your body forces out the same kind of noises, so tender and pained, your heart rapidly kicking against your ribcage. Your arousal is heightened by his words carrying such devastating praise, even when the most inert core of you aches for such different debauchery—the very opposite of what he’s giving you.
You leak for him, nonetheless.
Unable to take it anymore, Jungkook cradles your ankles and carefully rids you of your ruined panties, half-stuffing them into the front pocket of his jeans. A tiny bit of the pink fabric sticks out of it and the sight intoxicates you, pulling you deeper into your little space. Even more so when he finishes his praise because he wasn’t done yet. Not quite.
“And to see you be little for me so prettily again after such a long time,” he husks, spreading your legs far apart enough to see that gleaming rivulet make its way down the inner of your thigh. “That makes me the happiest man in the world, princess. I missed you. God, I missed you.”
Jungkook leans in and, with his tongue flat against your inner thigh, he collects the little juice you leak for him. He moans at the taste, but the sound is broken by a cry marked by yearning for more. He doesn’t stop there—he delves immediately, without sparing a second, into your lap with such a verve that your back crashes against the still fogged up mirror. His mouth seizes your clit, making kissing sounds as he laps and sucks at it with a hunger that could never be replicated in the arts. You grip his hair tighter for support, almost sliding down the mirror while struggling to contain your noises, the pleasure permeating every inch of your body that is ultimately submitted to him. The pressure of the delight he’s giving you deepens when he places one of your thighs on his shoulder, helping you take it while he continues to moan into your pussy and eat her like she deserves.
But you can’t take it. Not at all. Not when he begins to flick his tongue on your clit in a way that he does.
Your foot slips, but Jungkook is in control. He makes sure you land on your bum safely and painlessly, not once ripping his mouth off your cunt. His eyes continue to be steady, fixed on you, narrowed into such thin, alluring slits that it hastens your sweet release. You hiccup as you take little breaths, overwhelmed by it all. Your cheeks burn, and the fire spreads down your limbs, leaping over to your boyfriend at work, who glows with a rosy tint. Jungkook pulls away a little bit, dripping in arousal and perspiration, and he allows you to see his technique in all its glory.
The tip of his tongue stimulates your engorged clit with rapid, hard flicks.
Your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jungkook pushes your legs all the way back until you’re a squished mochi that he can’t get enough of, and when he puts a bigger pressure on your little bud, it is your absolute undoing.
Closer and closer, the orgasm takes over you completely. From the top of your head to your little toes that flex in your sneakers, you begin to shake uncontrollably as the highest level of the delight bursts upon your body. Jungkook’s noises grow in volume simultaneously, enraptured as he is by the view of his created paradise unfolding over you—and he never stops looking at you.
Not even as you come down from your high.
Not even as he, with your little juice dripping down his chin, turns you around and stacks one of your feet on the mirror while he keeps the other leg back with his hand. His limbs surround you, and as you blink through the blinding fog of your orgasm, you realize that you accidentally managed to match your shoes with his. High Nike dunks, black. The ones he got for you as well when he bought a pair for himself.
Your hole clenches in the mirror. A stream of your little juice makes a larger puddle on the floor beneath you.
“Look at you dripping for me, fuck.”
Hooking your leg over his right limb, he strums your entire feminine flesh with the four of his fingers, the squelching and squeaking sounds of your pussy pulling a tortured groan out of him as if he hadn’t gotten a taste of you a mere minute ago. His other hand sneaks to your tits to feel them up, stopping at your pebbled nipple, which he fondles as he breathes against you, inhaling your scent. Your hips buckle, your drenched seashell sensitive from his feast, and Jungkook lets out a pleased chuckle.
“My pretty little pussy. Always so sensitive from all my love, huh?”
You nod, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and Jungkook grins before he places a fat, rewarding kiss to your cheek, the two of his fingers, middle and ring, one of them adorned with that white Miffy plastic ring, starting a series of circles on your clit.
Your hips buckle again, the pleasure soft yet dizzying, overwhelming your senses. Jungkook tightens his grip around you, squeezing your breast.
“Whose pussy is this, princess?”
In the middle of it all, a light bulb flicks to life once again in your woozy mind. And a pleased smile, just like his, begins to grow on your mouth. But Jungkook is impatient and you’re not responding fast enough for his taste, so he lifts his soaked fingers and uses them to grip your mouth.
There it is.
“I asked you a question. Whose pussy is this?”
You’d bite your lip if he weren’t squishing your cheeks together, but your satisfied smile reaches your eyes, crinkling them. That causes him to relax his hold and give you a chance to give him the answer he seeks.
Little does he know you’re about to manipulate him into giving you the sin that you desire.
“This slutty little pussy is yours. Yours and no one else’s, Dada.”
His brows twitch and light unrolls across his face, softening his features in a way you’ve never seen before. He curses, momentarily rolls his eyes back, and he plunges his wet fingers into his mouth before he seizes your mouth in a compulsive kiss that thoroughly shuts off your brain. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you comprehend he licked off his fingers and didn’t swallow only so you could get the treat he had himself—because he busies his fingers by burying them inside your fleshy heat.
And he fucks you hard and doesn’t stop even when you begin to make intense little noises into his mouth.
You struggle to kiss him back when he curls his fingers and pistons into you with rapid jerks from this angle. His other hand tugs your top upwards, finds its way into the cups of your bra just so he could pinch and rub your nipple in the way that you like. And when his tongue flicks against yours and his mouth purses softly against yours before he deepens the kiss, your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly that you’re as surprised as him once you come apart all over not just his hand, but the mirror, too.
You splatter it with your little juice and even then, Jungkook doesn’t stop. Growling with heavy breaths, he strums your clit as fast as he can until there’s nothing left you can give to him.
You slump against him, high on the complexity of yours and his aphrodisiac love. Specks of your glitter—your small shooting stars gravitate down to your flushed cheeks, and then his fingers are in your mouth, traveling far down and deep until you grace him with the sound he likes. You gag around them and he nods, pleased, smirking.
“Good girl. Your slutty little juice tastes good, doesn’t it, baby?” he asks, and your stomach springs, your drunken feelings intensified by the fact you finally got what you yearned for. “Your mouth makes me fucking crazy. Dada, slutty pussy. I’m gonna lose my mind.”
You mewl, your eyes heavy, but you want more—you want his cock, and he can feel it, he knows it. He knows it when he pulls out his fingers and kisses you as if the world was meant to end in the next minute. He knows it because he withdraws and he tells you.
“Dada’s gonna fuck that slutty little pussy of his, hm?” Jungkook murmurs, and then his zipper is down, and just like the old times—he doesn’t rid himself of his clothes and gives you a brand new world with his strokes just the way he is.
Fully clothed, with his hard drooling cock poking out of his unzipped jeans.
He presses you against your wet juices on the mirror, spitting on his hand and lubricating the tip of his manhood. He enters you and you gasp, fogging up the mirror with your breath, and the hand that holds your head steady against the mirror buries into your hair while the other wraps around your hip. He sheathes himself inside you slowly whilst your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of finally being stretched out by him and once he bottoms out, it’s over.
Your life is over.
“Dada’s pussy always so tight.”
He pounds into you religiously—creating a new order for this brand new world. Hard, merciless strokes that scramble your brain and turn it into a mush. Your ass ripples with each collision and his noises melt into yours, a hymn for the utopia he’s fucking you into. And then he’s lifting you from the mirror and keeping you flush to himself, staring at you in the reflection while your tits spill out from your bra, bouncing, and Jungkook can’t get enough. Both of his hands drag down your straps, freeing your breasts, and he’s groping them, pinching your nipples without ever stopping the entrancing snapping of his hips.
“Pretty princess getting fucked. Look at you. So pretty and all mine.”
And then his Miffy-adorned finger is back on your clit, rubbing hard circles, and your personal world is finished—because your pleasure is his ultimate undoing.
The smacking of skin quietens and his hips begin to roll—a languid, staccato version of his choreo that got you all needy and wet but an hour ago. Jungkook whimpers into your ear how much he loves you, over and over again, as he stuffs you full of his cum, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your swollen little clit until you come all over his twitching cock.
And he doesn’t pull away.
He holds you like this, panting into your neck, his grip still tight, still evoking a sense of safety you won’t find anywhere else. Your drowsy eyelids flit, consider yourself well-spent, and the thought begins to sing a celebratory song in your chest—because all that hard work paid off.
You’re no longer greedy; you’re gratified after the first round.
Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck. “We should go before Bunny and Vinny start wondering where we are.”
The song wraps around your heart, which dissolves at his words. Jungkook pulls himself out of you, but you swivel around and throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. His still erect and wet length brushes against your thigh—and the contact makes you quiver in his arms.
“I feel good,” you explain into his ear. “I don’t need more.”
Jungkook chuckles. Wants to look at your face and he smooths your hair back, grinning at you. “I’m proud of you, princess, but look,” he says, glancing down. You follow his gaze down and perceive he’s talking about his private parts. “I’m still hard.”
His cock twitches at his words and twitches once more at the sound of your giggles—happy, happy giggles because the stigma behind your neediness withers and completely disappears, never to be found again, only because Jungkook isn’t embarrassed or afraid to show you he needs more. Your chest becomes light, light enough that you think you grew a pair of wings to fly around the room with.
“Gym, Gguk. You have to hit the gym more often,” you joke, knowing his work out schedule transcends beyond the five days you spend at the place.
The corner of his mouth curls as mischief twinkles in his eyes, divulging to you that he likes the way you challenge him.
“Oh yeah?” he questions, lifting his arm, pulling back the oversized sleeve of his T-shirt to flex his biceps. Your cheeks heat up at the strong mountains that appear and your hand can’t help but to knead it. “These aren’t big enough for you, huh?”
You scoff and shush him at the same time, leaning over to plant a singular kiss to his muscles. Jungkook uses the opportunity to hide you in his embrace and you both sputter into laughs and giggles. He pecks your hair, but something interrupts your sweet moment.
“Look at the mess you made,” he says, pointing at the mirror, and you gasp when you turn around.
An imprint of the side of your face is left behind on the reflection. Foundation, mascara and glitter amidst the little pearls and rivulets of your juices. You worry what you look like now if your make-up is smeared to this extent, but it soon is washed away from your mind when Jungkook crawls forward and makes a heart on the wetness of your slick.
He takes a picture of it and then he cleans it off with his gym towel. The floor, too.
At home, you fuck him hard for it.
With his Taro boba in his arm, Vinny on his chest and Bunny in the crook of his other arm, you ride him until your thighs burn and he resembles the prettiest rose you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Having come more than enough on his cock, you jerk him off while you flick your tongue on his tip, and he moans, flushes and convulses until he spills all over your hand and his stomach. Ropes of him cum reach the plushies, too, as he can’t stop coming and, growing feignedly jealous, you swallow him, longing for him to drip down your throat.
He comes so much that your belly is full and he’s as gratified as you were in the practice room.
And after a quick shower, you both drift off to your brand new world unexpectedly, the events of the day having exhausted you enough that you fall asleep within the next heartbeat. Vinny and Bunny tumble on in the washing machine while you and Jungkook dance in the new paradise, having stepped into the role of parents having a date without the kids. No stress, no stigma—just the freedom of being loved right.
→ Summary: Your brother has finally come around to the fact that you’re in a “serious” relationship with his best friend. However, that doesn’t stop Jungkook from testing his limits…
↠ jungkook x f.reader | 4.1k words | 18+
↠ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, post-college au, vegas wedding au
→ Warnings: explicit & unprotected sex, fucking in a tiny airplane bathroom, fucking in a pool, getting fingered in an elevator, getting caught by your brother a lotttt, teasing, dirty talk, needy!jungkook, drunk sex, alcohol consumption, hangover symptoms, multiple orgasms, multiple sex scenes, exhibitionism
→ Author Note: the long-awaited second part to Oh, Brother! I hope you all love it as much as I do! Check out all of the installments of The Oh! Chronicles series here! If you want a teaser/spoiler for part three, you should join my personal discord server (I’ll be sharing a snippet soon!) As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated!
The bathroom door opens suddenly, and a pissed-off-looking Jaemin is standing there. His eyes drift to you sitting on the bathroom sink with your dress hiked up, then to Jungkook, standing in between your open, exposed legs, with his jeans loosened around his waist.
Jaemin’s face flushes crimson, the fury unmistakable as his eyes lock onto the scene unfolding before him. His fists clench at his sides, every muscle in his body tensing with barely contained rage.
Across from him, Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, the tension crackling in the air around them.
“Oh, brother….”
𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓…
Jungkook taps incessantly on your shoulder, not stopping until you switch your attention from the view from the small window to him and take out your airpods.
“God, this flight feels like it’s never going to end. How much longer?” Jungkook whines, shifting in the seat next to you.
“We only have an hour left. Suck it up,” you reply, popping your airpods back in and restarting your music.
He gives you that classic puppy-dog face he always uses when he’s not getting enough of your attention.
You sigh, taking them out again. “What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow when he still says nothing. Before he can answer you, the overhead speaker crackles to life as the flight attendant makes an announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will begin our descent into Las Vegas shortly. Please make any final trips to the lavatories before returning to your seats, fasten your seatbelts, raise your tray tables, and ensure your seat backs are in the upright and locked positions.”
You're headed to Vegas for a post–college graduation celebration for Jaemin, Jungkook, and Jaehyun. It was originally supposed to be a guys’ trip until they found out you were coming. Then, suddenly, everyone invited their girlfriends. You didn’t mind, though. Honestly, you only wanted to come because you didn’t trust Jaemin and Jungkook not to get into another fight.
Jungkook had been unbelievably sweet the first time, he took everything from Jaemin without throwing a single punch back. He knew it was against the bro code to date you, sleep with you, or even think about you. You were so off-limits, yet he couldn’t resist you.
Once Jaemin finally cooled off, he and Jungkook talked things out after a month of silence. Since then, things have been smooth for the most part. Just a couple of minor arguments over dumb stuff, like best friends tend to have.
Still, you can’t shake the feeling that this trip has disaster written all over it. That’s why you were so dead-set on coming along. Jungkook caved first; he’s never been good at saying no to you. Jaemin agreed the next day, realizing that if Jungkook was bringing a girl, then he had an excuse to invite Kira, the girl he’s secretly in love with. And not wanting to be the odd one out, Jaehyun decided to invite his not-so-sneaky link along too.
“Will you come to the bathroom with me?” Jungkook asks, already rising from his seat, clearly expecting you to follow without question.
You blink at him. “What for?”
He doesn’t bother answering, and instead throws a look over his shoulder that makes your stomach flip.
With a sigh, you unbuckle and trail after him toward the back of the plane. He stops outside the lavatory and taps the door, eyes then noticing the small green indicator light that reads Vacant.
Glancing around to make sure no one’s watching, he quickly opens the door and ushers you inside. He slips in after you, locking the door behind him.
You’re immediately squished together, your back nearly hitting the tiny sink.
“What are you doing?” you whisper, annoyed and slightly breathless. “Both of us can’t fit in here.”
“I need you,” he murmurs, eyes dark and intense.
“Now?” you hiss. “You couldn’t wait until we’re in the luxurious king-sized bed that’s waiting for us?”
He leans in, brushing his lips along your neck. “I always need you,” he breathes. “I always want you. I always crave you.”
He presses hot, desperate kisses into your skin, moaning like he’s been touch-starved for days as your fingers tangle in his hair. His breath stutters against your neck when you tug just a little, pulling him closer.
“C’mon,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “Don’t you want to join the Mile High Club? Now’s the perfect chance…”
His hands drift lower, fingers teasing the waistband of your sweatpants with maddening slowness.
You roll your eyes, breath hitching. “And what if we get caught? Then we’re joining the No-Fly List instead.”
But before you can talk yourself out of it, his fingers dip between your thighs, and your argument dies in your throat.
Your back hits the mirror as he kisses you hungrily, all lips and tongue. The cramped space is forgotten the second he slips two fingers inside you, teasing you with shallow thrusts and curling them to hit your sweet spot.
“Jungkook,” you mewl, clutching his shirt to pull him closer, needing more.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his fingers now circling your clit, taunting you for what’s to come.
“Please fuck me,” you breathe, eyes glazed. You're already too far gone to care about consequences.
That’s all it takes. In one swift movement, he yanks your pants down, followed by his own. Wasting no time, he buries his thick cock deep inside you.
You bite your lip to keep from crying out as he starts to move, fast and rough, rocking into you over and over. Thank god you’re in the air, where the engines are loud and the small bumps of turbulence cover up any noises coming from the small space you two occupy.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, as he adjusts his hips to a new angle that has you on the verge of coming undone.
Jungkook is mid-thrust when someone starts aggressively knocking on the door.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
You freeze. He doesn’t.
“Ignore them, baby,” he growls into your ear, voice thick with lust. “I can’t stop now. Not until I come in this sweet little cunt of yours.”
His pace doesn’t falter as he speaks, hips slamming into yours.
“Fuck, I’m so hard for you. You’re dripping for me, so tight and so perfect. You hear that?” he grunts as he bottoms out again. “That wet little pussy’s begging for it. You’re such a cock-hungry slut, look at you.”
You moan, vision blurring, every filthy word driving you closer to the edge.
“I can feel you gripping me,” he pants. “You gonna come, baby? You want me to make you come all over my cock?”
You nod frantically, unable to form words. Everything in you is coiled tight, seconds from unraveling.
Your body arches against him as waves of pleasure crash through you, every nerve lit up, every muscle trembling. You clamp around him, moaning his name as your orgasm rips through you.
Jungkook doesn’t stop. He groans against your neck, fucking you through the aftershocks, his pace stuttering as he loses control.
“Fuck–” he chokes out, hips jerking as he buries himself deep one last time. His release shoots into you in hot, pulsing streaks, his whole body tensing as he moans your name one last time.
When it’s finally over, you gather yourself with a flushed face and shaky hands. Jungkook presses one last kiss to your temple before using some toilet paper to wipe his come that’s leaking out of you. You both try to straighten your clothes in the tiny mirror before unlocking the door to escape.
After opening the door, you’re met by the impatient glare of a teenage girl.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumble, sliding past her quickly. And then your heart drops.
Standing directly behind her, arms crossed and jaw tight, is your brother.
Jaemin stares at you both for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then he mutters, “God, you two act like newlyweds—fucking everywhere all the time.”
You can practically feel Jungkook smirk beside you. Cheeks burning, you drag him back to your aisle before he says something that would escalate the ordeal.
Turning your head back around once seated, you make eye contact with your brother who’s face looks just as pissed off. Like he’s silently calculating whether joining the mile-high version of Fight Club would be worth the federal charges.
The first few nights in Vegas were a blur of flashing lights and endless drinks. You danced until your feet ached and woke up with memories that felt like a dream. Last night was a well-needed break. The group opted for a low-key evening, which involved a quick dinner, a few drinks by the resort pool, and an early night to recharge.
Today, you’re still taking it easy. Lounging in the private pool that wraps around your suite, a hidden oasis high above the Vegas strip. The sun is warm on your skin, the water cool against your lower half as you lean on the edge and take in the view.
You close your eyes, breathing in the stillness, until the balcony door slides open.
“Where is everyone? All the rooms are empty.” Jungkook asks as he steps out, towel slung around his neck, sweat still clinging to his post-gym glow.
You tilt your head toward him without opening your eyes, resting your head on your arms. “Jaemin and Kira went to brunch earlier. And Jaehyun’s taking Sophia shopping as a way to make up for flirting with the hostess last night.”
He chuckles, stripping out of his gym clothes and easing into the water beside you.
“I told everyone we’d meet in the lobby at 10. DJ Johnny doesn’t go on until 11, so we’ve got plenty of time to get to the club.”
He hums in agreement, arms sliding around your waist as he pulls you close. For a moment, the two of you just float there in silence, the city stretching below and the desert sun catching the water in shimmering flecks.
“You look happy,” he says softly, his eyes scanning your face.
“I am happy,” you reply, smiling up at him.
He kisses you lightly at first. It’s sweet and unhurried, like he’s savoring this moment with you. But then it shifts. His lips grow firmer, more insistent. The hand on your waist slides lower, fingers pressing into your hip as his tongue parts your lips. The kiss deepens, turning molten. Your body responds instantly, pressing into him as heat begins to build beneath the surface of your skin.
His mouth trails down your neck as he pushes you gently against the pool’s edge. The water laps around you as his hands roam, exploring you, teasing you beneath the surface. You gasp when his fingers find their way between your thighs, and he smirks against your skin.
“Think you can handle me? I’m fully recharged and overflowing with energy,” you tease with a grin.
“You know the gym doesn’t drain me. If anything, it just pumps me up,” he murmurs, voice low and full of promise as he presses his hard length against you. “Think you can handle me?”
You chuckle, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in for another kiss. He pulls the material of your bathing suit bottoms to the side before thrusting into you, the water adding a slow, gliding rhythm to every thrust. The city sparkles behind him, but you can’t take your eyes off his face.
“I love you,” you moan, breathless, pulling his face back to yours for another scorching kiss. Your lips crash together, tongues tangling, bodies clinging beneath the water like you’re trying to melt into each other.
“Let me show you how much I love you,” Jungkook growls against your mouth.
He grips your waist, lifting you just enough to slip out of you, only to slam back in, hard and deep. The water ripples violently around you as your hips meet with perfect timing repeatedly. You toss your head back with a gasp, eyes fluttering shut.
A low groan escapes him as he watches you come undone. One hand braces behind your back, the other reaches up to tug at the strings tied behind your neck. With a practiced flick, your bikini top slips loose and floats off beside you, forgotten.
His eyes darken as he stares at your bare chest, his mouth instantly descending to taste you. Jungkook leaves hot, wet kisses trailing over sensitive skin as he sucks a nipple between his lips.
You're lost in it, lost in him, until a familiar voice breaks your spell.
“Oh, shit,” Jaemin curses, immediately turning away, hand thrown up to shield his eyes. “What the fuck, you guys? Seriously?!”
You shriek, instinctively trying to cover yourself, but Jungkook barely flinches, holding you firmly against him, knowing that his broad shoulders hide you from your brother’s view.
From inside the suite, Kira peeks out, drawn by Jaemin’s raised voice. Her eyes widen the second she takes in the scene of you straddling Jungkook in the pool, easily able to figure out what you guys are up to.
Moving quickly to Jaemin’s arm with both hands. “Let’s go,” she says brightly, dragging him back toward the suite. “Give them some privacy.”
Jaemin mutters under his breath, still scowling. “Fucking hell. I take it back, you’re worse than newlyweds. At this point, you’re like like fucking horny teenagers.”
He throws a glare over his shoulder. “Jungkook! Don’t make me fuck you up again, bro. I will! Geez!”
“Oh, come on, Jaemin,” Kira laughs, tugging him away before his temper flares. “Don’t be such a cockblock. See you two later!” She shoots you a wink just before disappearing inside, her voice echoing faintly, still teasing Jaemin for his unlucky streak of catching you two.
You make a mental note to buy her a thank-you drink tonight.
But that thought vanishes the second Jungkook thrusts up into you again, dragging you back into the moment. The water splashes around you with every movement, slapping softly against the tiled edges of the pool.
Your head falls back, mouth parted in a silent moan as your body clenches around him again. And this time, there’s no holding back.
You’re not exactly sure how you ended up here.
When you and Jungkook slipped out of the club earlier tonight, ditching your friends in a whirlwind of whispered giggles and stolen touches, you figured it would end in another wild quickie somewhere. And to be fair, it started that way. He had his hands all over you in the back of the taxi, his mouth on your neck as the Strip blurred by.
But then, the car dropped you both off at the far end of Las Vegas Boulevard, where you ran straight into a group of strangers who swore they’d partied with you on your first night in town. Whether they were right or not didn’t really matter; they bought you shots like old friends and kept them coming, one after the other, until the world tilted sideways.
And somehow...you agreed to Jungkook’s crazy idea.
Now you’re standing inside a chapel bathed in neon pink light, next to a man in a bedazzled Elvis costume who smells faintly of old cologne and too much hairspray. Jungkook is holding both of your hands in his, his fingers warm and solid around yours. His grin is so wide it practically splits his face in half, his eyes crinkling with drunken joy as he watches the impersonator read the vows.
“Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Elvis says in a dramatic drawl.
“I do,” Jungkook replies without hesitation, his voice thick with emotion, and maybe tequila. “With my whole heart.”
He slips a thin silver ring onto your finger. One he bought just minutes ago from a display stand outside. It’s slightly too big and also a little tacky, but somehow perfect.
Now it’s your turn. You blink up at him, your heart thudding wildly in your chest.
“I do,” you say softly, biting back a giddy laugh. “With my whole heart.”
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Elvis impersonator declares with flair, throwing out his arms. “You may kiss!”
Jungkook’s hands envelop your face as he kisses you, sealing your fate.
The handful of drunk couples that are waiting for their turn cheer loudly as Jungkook lifts you straight off your feet. You wrap your arms around his neck, squealing as he carries you bridal-style down the narrow aisle and out of the chapel, laughing the whole way.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” you say breathlessly, still laughing as you cup his jaw and guide him into another messy kiss.
“I can’t either,” he says against your lips, eyes shining. “But god, I’m so ridiculously happy right now.”
He sets you down and pulls you close, forehead pressed to yours.
“Mrs. Jeon Jungkook, you make me so fucking happy. I love you, baby. So much.”
You can’t stop smiling and neither can he.
The next morning, your head feels like it’s still spinning. The light bleeding through the hotel curtains is too bright, stabbing straight into your skull. You groan and crack an eye open, trying to piece together where you are, and more importantly, what the hell happened last night.
Bits and pieces flash into your memory.
The pounding bass of the DJ set. Clinking shot glasses. Jungkook’s laughter against your ear, both of you cracking up about something that felt hilarious at the time. Though now you can’t recall a single detail.
You shift beneath the sheets, rubbing your eyes, when something cool and metallic catches your attention.
You pause, blinking.
There’s a ring on your finger.
A ring.
You yank your hand back and jump upright, heart now thudding in your chest like it’s trying to break free. In your sudden panic, your elbow smacks straight into Jungkook’s face.
“Ow! What the–” he groans, rolling onto his side. “Babe, what was that for?”
“Oh my god,” you whisper, scrambling out of bed.
Still half-drunk, half-hungover, and fully spiraling, you make a beeline for the bathroom and immediately hurl the remnants of last night into the toilet.
Your knees hit the cold tile as you clutch the porcelain bowl, your mind spinning even faster than your stomach.
Jungkook is at your side a moment later. Sleepy, shirtless, and concerned, he crouches beside you without saying a word, gently pulling your hair back and rubbing slow, soothing circles across your spine.
“Breathe,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”
Once you’re fairly certain your insides are empty, you lean back on your heels, wiping your mouth with a towel and groaning.
“I feel like death,” you mumble.
“You look beautiful,” Jungkook says with a lazy smile, though his eyes are scanning your face carefully. Searching. Bracing.
He stands, reaching into the shower to turn on the water. Steam starts to fill the bathroom as he undresses and steps inside, then turns to hold out his hand for you.
You hesitate.
Your eyes drop to the ring on your finger again, then flick back to his face.
He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. You can tell he’s watching you closely, reading every micro-expression, seeing if you have any doubt. There’s no trace of regret in his eyes, but there’s a quiet question behind them.
What are you feeling? And are we okay?
You reach for his hand and step in beside him.
You wash up quickly, letting the hot water rinse away the hangover haze clinging to your skin. Feeling clean doesn’t solve everything, but it helps ground you.
After drying off and throwing on fresh clothes, you sit on the edge of the bed and breathe for a moment. Jungkook's quiet, giving you space, but you can still feel his eyes on you.
Then, finally, he breaks the silence.
“C’mon,” he says gently. “Let’s get some breakfast and cure your hangover before you spiral again. I got a text from Jaemin, they’re waiting for us in the lobby if we want to join everyone for brunch.”
You nod, grabbing your phone and purse before the two of you leave the suite and step into the elevator. Oh god…how are you going to tell everyone…
Jungkook speaks again once the elevator doors close. “Well, last night happened.”
You exhale, almost laughing. “Yeah. I guess it did.”
You start picking at your fingernails, nerves creeping in again as the elevator begins its descent. Jungkook notices instantly.
“Hey,” he says, catching your hands in his. “Don’t do that. Don’t second-guess this. I’m happy. Let’s be happy.”
You look up at him. He gives you that soft smile, the one that always manages to settle your heart.
He pulls you into a hug, wrapping you up like he’s trying to shield you from the chaos of the outside world.
“It’s not how I imagined it, not even close,” he says, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But you know what? I love that I get to call you my wife now. I like that I’m your husband.”
He leans back just enough to nuzzle into your cheek, his lips brushing against your skin in a quiet, reassuring gesture.
And for a moment, your worries melt away. Because if nothing else, you’ve got him. And maybe that’s more than enough.
His hand squeezes your waist as the elevator descends, and you feel his fingers trailing lower, skimming the hem of your skirt with intent.
“Jungkook…” you murmur, glancing toward the mirrored walls, but he’s already moving, slipping his hand beneath the fabric like he owns you, because, well, after last night…he kind of does. And you kind of like that.
His fingers find your heat instantly, and your breath catches in your throat.
“So wet already,” he hums against your ear, voice low and dangerous. “You want to get caught, don’t you?”
You press your back against the elevator wall, heart hammering as his thumb begins to circle your clit.
It feels so good that you can barely stand. The pressure is building fast, your thighs trembling as he slides two fingers inside you.
“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he curls them just right.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he says, nipping your earlobe. “Look at yourself. Watch how fucking wrecked you look when I touch you.”
Your gaze finds the mirrored wall. You see your parted lips, the way your chest rises and falls, the dark hunger in Jungkook’s eyes as he watches you unravel.
He moves faster, fucking you with his fingers, thumb pressed tight to your clit.
“Scream my name, baby. Who makes you feel this good? Who makes you come uncontrollably?”
“Jungkook!” you cry out before you can think.
He sinks his teeth into your neck, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you gasp.
“Wrong,” he growls. “Try again.”
“M–my husband,” you stammer, on the verge of falling apart. “My husband makes me come uncontrollably.”
“That’s right,” he whispers, voice thick with pride and lust. “That’s fucking right, wife. Now come all over these fingers. You’ve earned it.”
And you do, trembling, legs barely holding you up, biting down a scream as wave after wave crashes over you.
As the elevator nears the lobby, he slowly pulls his hand from between your thighs, sucking one of his fingers into his mouth like he’s tasting the best thing he's ever had before returning it for more.
“Wow,” you pant, trying to catch your breath. “Being married already has its perks.”
He smirks, using his other hand to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Baby, we haven’t even started collecting the benefits.”
The elevator dings softly as it reaches the lobby, and the doors slide open with an almost theatrical slowness, just in time to reveal a very pissed-off-looking Jaemin standing directly in front of you.
Judging by the way his jaw is clenched and the murderous glare aimed at the two of you, he definitely heard the tail end of that little scene. Probably more.
“You’re married?!” Jaemin’s voice echoes through the lobby, loud enough to turn heads. A few bystanders pause mid-step, curious and mildly entertained by the drama unfolding in front of the elevators.
Thankfully, he hasn’t seemed to notice Jungkook’s hand still slick from where it was between your thighs before he reluctantly slips it away.
Jungkook glances over his shoulder, letting out a sheepish laugh. “Well, the honeymoon’s off to a strong start. Guess your newlyweds joke actually fits now…”
Jaemin takes a slow, threatening step forward and Jungkook tenses beside you, instinctively bracing for whatever’s coming next, whether it’s a punch, a lecture, or both. But when his eyes flick back to yours, and he sees the worry written all over your face, his shoulders square a little more.
SUMMARY: Yoongi wouldn't be caught dead meddling in people's lives, but once he sees you on that screen, he has to help you somehow. It was an impulse, a mistake. The kind that ruins everything for you. He can't undo it, but he can help you turn your life around, even if he can't tell you why.
WORD COUNT: 78.7k
GENRE: coworkers to lovers, angst, mutual pining, smut
RATING: R (explicit)
WARNINGS (for the whole series): secrets, not being fully honest, stalking (reader’s ex), harassment and degradation, panic attack, mutual pining, alcohol, body worship, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), handjob, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, misunderstandings, arguments, angst, soft Dom Yoongi, pleading, dirty talk, creampie, angst with happy ending
A.N. Whoa, I've been working on this for so many months, I feel like I'm going a little crazy 😅 Truth be told, I thought I'd write this all in one month, even while pregnant, but that was... way too naïve of me 🥲 But I've written enough to finally, confidently, share it with you guys! This fic is part of the Believe to Succeed Collab, in which all seven member stories intertwine! It's been super fun working together and leaving breadcrumbs about the other's stories throughout mine 🤭 so be sure to check them out, too! Finally, I'd like to thank @moonleeai, @pars-ley and @colormepurplex2 for helping me make sense of everything 🥹 I don't think the story would have been half as exciting without their input! And also thank you to @eerieedits for the banner! Enjoy! 💜
Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Playlist
He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. Even with the best intentions, what he had done was unforgivable. He’d just stopped a nefarious act by committing a heinous one. He couldn’t even bring himself to confess he’d done it; all he could feel was the sticky sweat in his hands as his mouth dried.
He didn’t know what to do with himself or how to fix this, but he had to.
Part 1 | WC: 3.3k - Out August 26 -[here]
‘Play again?’
Part 2 | WC: 4.6k - Out September 2 - [here]
“I believe you can fight this and win. I want to help you.”
Part 3 | WC: 5.3k - Out September 9 - [here]
“I thought I was helping her, but I screwed her over, okay?”
Part 4 | WC: 5.1k - Out September 16 - [here]
“I’ve been on your side from the start. You know that, right?”
Part 5 | WC: 3.1k - Out September 23 - [here]
“How can I believe you?”
Part 6 | WC: 5.4k - Out September 30 - [here]
“I prefer working alone.”
Part 7 | WC: 9.7k - Out October 7 - [here]
“Sometimes I just wish things had been different.”
Part 8 | WC: 5.2k - Out October 14 - [here]
“So when will you show me that song?”
Part 9 | WC: 4.3k - Out October 21 - [here]
“He got what he wanted. Why would he call me again?”
Intermission - The Gala | WC: 2.2k - Out October 28 - [here]
You gripped your hair, messing it up—Fuck. Even when you thought you were getting better at dealing with shit, it turned out you were just a fool anyway.
Part 10 | WC: 10.3k - Out November 4 -[here]
“Don’t break her heart, Yoongs.”
Part 11 | WC: 3.1k - Out November 11 - [here]
“I handled it. I don't need you to show up on a white horse and fix it. I can handle my own problems!”
Part 12 | WC: 3.2k - Out November 18 - [here]
“I'm afraid that if I wait, it will be too late.”
Part 13 | WC: 13.4k - Out November 25 - [here]
“It's you. In my head, in my dreams, in my music, ever since I met you.”
▻ Ribbons of Gold
↳ Prince!Jimin x f.Reader
⤜ Royalty/Prince AU, Arranged Marriage, Blast From The Past
⤜ Childhood Friends to Lovers | angst, fluff, smut
⤜ Rating: MA
⤜ WC: 33,623
⤜ Summary: Jimin, a prince bound by duty, and you, a woman bound against her will, are reunited by a childhood promise—one he has cherished, and you have outgrown. When your long-awaited betrothal becomes a gilded cage, old affection fractures under the weight of resentment, forcing you to choose between love, freedom, and the roles that you cannot escape.
⚠️ Mild language, heavy angst, fear of loss (of a parent), kissing, fingering, v. sex
Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.
Prologue: A time between childhood and adulthood, where promises have weight and hearts are still learning…
Chapter 1: Path of Thorns
Chapter 2: On My Knees
Chapter 3: All I Want Is You
Story is complete.
A/N: This is written for @pars-ley as part of the @bangtanwritershq Mikrokosmos Music Box Fic Exchange inspired by the song Please
A/N: Thank you to @lo1k-diamonds & @peachiilovesot7 for their unfailing beta services!
→ Rating: mature/explicit (this is mature/explicit content, so you have been warned. Blowjob, fingering, first time sex, kissing, dirty talk, mafia, forbidden romance, +21.)
Min Yoongi arrived at the Jung family manor in Otgol. Otgol was a place where the men drank aged liquor under moonlight, their conversations laced with business and inner-circle banter.
They played baduk, and let the cicadas speak for them. And the women gathered in the kitchens, where salt was not the main ingredient, but gossip. This was more than just a vacation. It was a ritual as old as the families themselves. Other families retreated to Gyeongju, Jeju, Tongyeong. But Otgol was reserved for the families the my family called friends and family.
“Yoongi!” Hoseok greeted him.
No formal bow, they had bled too much together for that. Instead, he flashed that bright, practiced smile—the one he used to mask the fact that his hands were just as stained as his. He clapped a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder.
"You look like you haven't slept since the Busan port seizure," Hoseok said. "Sit. Drink. My father is already three glasses deep and arguing with the elders about the new zoning laws in Gangnam. They need a distraction before someone loses a finger."
Yoongi let out a low, raspy hum. The scent of charcoal and marinated galbi began to drift through the heavy summer air.*
“Your father looks at people as if he is silently judging, Hoseok."
"It’s a Jung trait," he joked as he lead Yoongi towards the open courtyard where the barbecue was talking place.
The volume of the elders' voices, the way the younger soldiers straightened their spines. In Seoul, Yoongi was a ghost, a myth whispered in back alleys. Here, in the ancestral heart of their alliance he was visible.
He watched the smoke rise from the grills. Everything was in its place. The hierarchy was balanced. The corruption was veiled in politeness. He thought he knew every face in this manor. He thought he knew every secret the Jung family kept behind these traditional wooden gates.
“Yoongi,” Hoseok smiled, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “This is my cousin, y/n.”
Yoongi looked at her, and for the first time in a decade, he felt the sharp sting of being unprepared. She was small—barely reaching his shoulder—with a face that belonged in a pre-war painting, not a den of vipers. But it was her eyes that stopped him. They weren't the eyes of the women he knew—the ones who either looked at the floor in submission or looked at his wallet with greed.
Her gaze was steady. Unimpressed. She looked at him the way one looks at a particularly stubborn rain cloud—an inconvenience, perhaps, but nothing to tremble over.
She looked at him as if she was weighing his soul and finding it remarkably heavy.
"She just got back from the UK," Hoseok continued. "My parents practically had to kidnap her to bring her back.”
Yoongi did not offer his hand. In their world, a hand offered is a contract or a threat. Instead, he let his gaze sweep over her with the cold, clinical detachment he used for a ledger.
He wanted to see her flinch. He wanted to see that spark of "Jung" fear that kept the world spinning on its axis.
But she just tilted her head. A small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth—a silent challenge that echoed through the quiet courtyard. She wasn’t the one to bow out of respect to someone older than her.
“I would’ve come on my own,” she said before turning to Yoongi. “you must be Min Yoongi?”
The way she said his name wasn't a prayer, or a plea. She spoke it with the same casual indifference one might use to identify a piece of furniture in an unfamiliar room. His name usually cleared hallways and silenced rooms, but between her lips, it sounded ordinary.
Yoongi did not answer immediately. The silence stretched, heavy and thick like the humid night air, a weight that usually makes men start to babble just to fill the void. But she simply waited as she looked up at him.
He had seen a picture of her on Hoseok's desk before. She held her chin in the palm of her hand, a few strands of her chocolate hair fell over one eye while Hoseok stood behind her chair with a glass of champagne. But that photo didn't capture this: the way her gaze doesn't just meet his, it cut.
She wasn't just a cousin, but a glitch in the perfect machinery of his world. He took a closer look at her; she looked mature, intelligent, and entirely unimpressed. That was new.
“I am,” he nod.
He allowed himself to be played. He expected one of those shy smiles. The ones the daughters of the families usually give him in an attempt to seem demure. She gave a little hum, and looked him up and down. Was that a scoff? A snort? It was somewhere in between.
"Y/N!" The younger Jungs called her over.
"Excuse me," she smiled politely and left.
Min Yoongi expected a girl raised overseas to be spoiled, delicate, and soft. But she was the opposite. Direct and unbothered, and the fact that she didn't as so much as bow before walking away was irritating.
Yoongi turned to Hoseok, still watching her go. "Was she always this brazen?"
Hoseok chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “Y/n left Korea when she was four. Se’s only visited once when she was ten,” he said. “And that was it. she moved back permanently two weeks ago. she’s a London girl with an attitude, but still a Jung.”
"She's nothing like the daughters of the other families," Yoongi took a swing of his drink. "She's either reckless or foolishly brave."
Hoseok snorted, clearly amused by his friend's irritation. "You're angry she wasn't instantly swooning over you?" he tilted his head. "Careful, Yoongi, you almost sound offended. I pray patience for the man she ends up with,” Hoseok sighed. “she’s never dated. I don’t want her to either. she’s still my little cousin.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes at Hoseok's comment, but a part of him can't help but agree with his assessment. The daughters of other families are almost sickeningly polite. They're raised to be submissive and obedient, to act like dolls on display.
But there's nothing doll-like about y/n. She had a sharp tongue, and a gaze that could cut through glass.
Despite his best efforts, Yoongi found his gaze lingering on her throughout the evening. In the flickering light of the fire, he watched her chat with the other cousins. Her laughter carried through the cool night air like a song. Every time she threw back her head, exposing the graceful curve of her neck, or when she leaned closer to her cousins to whisper something, his grip on his glass tightened.
Hoseok, ever the observer, noticed his attention. "You're staring. Again." he noted, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, please," Yoongi sighed.
Y/n walked out from her bedroom after changing. The kids spilled juice on her, so she had to change. She now wore a light beige-off-white corset top and a long, tiered, off-white floor length skirt.
Everyone was still outside laughing and talking. She walked downstairs, and that's when she saw him, Min Yoongi in the foyer putting his phone away.
The foyer was dim, the air smelling of old wood, beeswax, and the lingering phantom of incense. He had just ended a call with one of his mafia associates from Incheon—a mess involving a shipment of high-grade steel and a customs official who had suddenly grown a conscience.
His voice was still like jagged glass, the remnants of a death threat cooling on his tongue.
Then, when he turned, he saw her. She didn't stop when she saw him. She didn't wait at the top of the stairs for permission to enter the space he occupied.
"Don’t mind me," her voice cut through the quiet. “Feel free to catch up with your gawkers.”
He moved into her path. He hoped to see the pulse in her throat, close enough to see if her pupils dilated in fear. They did not.
"I’m wondering why a daughter of the Jung family has forgotten her manners in London,” he hummed.
Y/n stopped at the final step, putting them both nearly eye-to-eye because of the elevation. She tilted her head, a stray lock of hair fell over her shoulder and down to her hips.
She stepped down onto the floor. She was smaller than him now. She closed the last bit of distance until the scent of her perfume—something sweet - threatened to drown out the smell of his own tobacco.
“I didn't forget my manners, Min Yoongi," she said. "I know respect is a currency. I don't spend it on people who haven't earned it."
'Her lips look so- NO!'
Yoongi's jaw flexed ever so slightly. He had to stop himself from thinking such things. He moved to make his way out back to the barbecue, but she stopped in his path blocking his way.
He didn't answer immediately. Every other girl he had met, every daughter of a high-ranking family, would have flinched by now. But even with him towering over her, she didn't move even an inch.
He could see the flecks of gold in her irises.
"You’re in my way," his voice was low enough that the words were almost swallowed by the quiet of the foyer.
Y/n had never dated. She did not know what it felt like to have a man yearn for her. She did not know the difference between self pleasure, and someone else giving her pleasure. She did not know what it felt like to have the lips of another on hers, how it felt to feel fingers tangle in her hair, the pull by the waist. She avoided all that back in London.
But now, here, as an adult - as a woman she wanted to experience all of it.
She held his gaze for a moment before speaking. “I overheard you and my cousin speaking,” she said. “you’ve not been seeing anyone for a long time.”
He stiffened. His gaze sharpened and his shoulders tensing for a beat before he relaxed. "You overheard?" He allowed his eyes to wander over her, taking in the clean lines of her dress and the smooth skin of her neck. "How long were you eavesdropping?"
"Interesting."
Yoongi raised a brow. "What's interesting?" he ask.
He understood that look in her eyes. It was the look many woman had given him before, and he would've had them bent over already. But this was not some random woman in a club he met in Seoul. This was a Jung. The little cousin of his best friend.
He kept his expression neutral, masking the subtle inferno building in his chest.
But she stepped closer towards him. It was slow and deliberate.
He couldn't help the slow smirk tugging at his lips. His hands tucked into his pockets, but his fingers flex slightly, resisting the urge to reach out.
"Careful," his voice dropped lower. "I don’t want trouble with your cousin. he’s my best friend. it doesn’t matter that his cousin is gorgeous."
But his eyes betrayed him. They flicker down to her lips for half a second before meeting her gaze again. He exhaled sharply through his nose. She was relentless, and for the first time in years, he not entirely sure who who was hunting who.
“Excuse me,” He tried to move around her, but she blocked his path again.
Her hand went to his chest, and he halted. She tilted her head to the side as she dragged her index finger down to his belt.
Her touch, as light as it was, left a searing trail of heat through his entire body. His heart raced faster, and his muscles twitched involuntarily.
He look down at her hand, then back to her face. He did not stop her, he did not reach for her wrist either. His jaw flexed again, his control slipping by the second. Every instinct was telling him to grab her wrist, pin her against the nearest wall, and...
But he didn't.
“You have your cousin’s tenacity,” he said. “You want something and go for it. Even when it’s not a good idea.*
Her finger nail taps against the metal of the buckle. “y/n,” he warned, but her fingers don’t pull away. If anything, they press harder—a silent dare.
'Hoseok would kill me if he saw this.'
“You’re not one to follow orders,” he said, before leaning in closer. “But I bet you’re even more gorgeous when you listen, cheonsa.” He held her gaze for a moment. “hands. off.”
"Wae?" the whisper from her lips was a dare. "Because you're getting hard?"
'This little..'
The cocky flavor in her question - in the voice made his cock twitch. He grabbed her wrist and moved her hand away, but he did not let go. "You should go back," he gestured to the garden.
His cock was growing hard from the things he was imagining of doing to her. How she would sound moaning beneath him, his hot her body would feel against him.
"I'll be heading out," he said. "Thanks to you."
Y/n held back a smirk. "So you are getting hard," she said soflty. It was not a question.
Yoongi almost laughed. What was this girl doing to him? “What’s your plan, cheonsa?” he chuckled. “Hmmm? talk to your cousin’s friend and have him tell you how he wants to be buried deep inside of you?”
He stepped forward and he waited for her to look away. He waited for her to fold and say, 'I've gone too far. I'm sorry.' But that never happened.
"Is that what you want, y/n?" he asked softly. “To know that while everyone is discussing land taxes ten yards away, I’m fucking you?"
He finally let her wrist go. “I could have you against the wall in three seconds," he murmured. "I could hike that pretty skirt up and find out exactly how loud you can be while everyone is laughing just outside. I’d have my hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. Is that the 'flirting' you were looking for, cheonsa?"
He expected shock, but it was not there.
To Y/n it sounded like a challenge. She put this off for too long back in London, so she did something she had never done before.
Y/n pushed herself on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss caught him off guard. For the first time ever, Min Yoongi was caught off guard by a kiss. The kiss was a press of soft lips. There was no urgency, no possessiveness. Nothing.
He knew it was wrong. He knew he should have pulled away, but instead, his hands, which were meant to put three three feet of distance between them, backed her against the wall.
He tilted his head, deepening the angle, and finally, he kissed her back.
Her lips did not move against his, but he felt her wanting to. It was as if she was waiting for a set of instructions. It was sweet - infuriating. One second she was mocking the state of his trousers, and the next, she was kissing him with the innocence of a girl who hasn’t yet learned how much a man like him could take.
He cupped her jaw, his thumb grazing her bottom lip. It was a wordless request for her to open her mouth to him, and his tongue slipped in between her lips and into her mouth.
He needed more.
“bedroom,” He said against her lips. “now.”
She grabbed his hand and led him upstairs until they reached her bedroom. The room was dimly lit. Her bed was visible, surrounded by swathes of white bedding made for a princess.
Yoongi closed the door and made sure to lock it, before he turned back to her. He wasted not time. He cupped he back of head nack, holding her in place as he walked her backwards futher in the bedroom.
“You’re a fox,” he murmured agasint her lips. He did not kiss her this time, but he wanted to feel her agasint his when he spoke. The feel of her soft and full lips agasint his made his blood hot. “You gou under my skin real quick.”
He tilted her head back to expose her neck. “Pretty,” he said and lached his lips on a blank space. The skin under his mouth was burning hot. “I love the fire in your eyes, cheonsa.”
“Mmmng,” she moaned.
His lips move along her neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses. Her heart felt like it was fizzing in her chest. Her head spun like she was doing an endless waltz.
The back of her calfs hit the foot of her bed, and he stopped. “You’re gonna get me in a whole different kind of mess with your cousin,” he said. “But I’m not backing down now.”
He gripped her waist, his thumbs digging into the soft dip of her hips above that tiered skirt. She looked up at him. Her lips were parted. She was breathless. Her cheeks were tinted pinkish-red and her eyes. Oh, those eyes of hers that had been so cold in the courtyard were now hazy and dark with a need she clearly did not know how to handle.
‘Fuck me.’
“On your knees" he murmured as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
Yoongi watched as she lowered herself down onto her knees. Her long skirt pooling around her. His eyes roamed over her small frame. From the way her hair framed her gorgeous face, the way her clevage looked from where he sat. She was different from the girls he had been with. She did not look up at him with submissive eyes, but she looked at him like an opponent, like a someone he had just challenged to prove herself.
He ran his fingers through her hair, feeling the silkiness of her strands between his fingertips. Her eyes fall to the bulge in his trousers. “Look at me,” he murmured.
Y/n tilted her head back to look up at him, and something in the air shifted.
He tightened his grip, his fingers tangling in through her locks as he tugged her closer. She didn't resist. She simply allowed him to move her where he wanted.
“Take it out.”
She looked up at him through her lashes. Her ran up his thighs. He felt her palms brush against his bulge as she reached his belt. Again. Yoongi inhaled deeply and exhaled softly, his grip in her hair grew tighter and his eyes remained locked on her the entire time. He did not want to miss a single moment.
Y/n unbuckled his belt with no rush. The innocence in her eyes told him she had not done this before. And that fucking turned him on even more.
The clinking of the buckle echoed through the quiet room, and his hand in your hair remained tight, holding her in place as she unbuttoned his trousers. Her fingers moved to slide down the zipper down, and he had to stop himself from wanting to shove his cock down her throat.
Yoongi didn’t need to push his trousers all the way down, or at all. He simply reached inside his boxers and he took out his hard, aching cock. Pre-cum glistened at the tip. He gave it a few slow strokes with one hand as he other hand left her hair and cupped her cheek.
His thumb pressed against her bottom lip. “Open your mouth for me, cheonsa,” he said.
And for the first time, hesitation. Y/n paused. She did not move, only blinked.
Yoongi tilt his head to the side and he feigned a soft pout. “You wanted to see if I was hard, y/n,” he said softly. “But as gorgeous you look on your knees for me right now, and as much as I want to fuck you, we can stop.”
Did she want to stop? No this was what she wanted, right? She wanted to know what this feeling was, right? She wanted to know what it felt like to be wrecked and fucked, right? She wanted him, Min Yoongi to ruin her for everyone else, right?
She leaned over and gently pressed her lips to the tip. The moment she had a tasted of his pre-cum her pupil dilated. It was like she had taken a drag of cocaine. It sent an adreneline rush through her veines that shook her from the inside.
She closed her lips around his hard shaft, and she could feel it throbbing agaisnt her lips ever so slightly. She slowly moved her head down, and he twitched against her tongue.
His head felt back when her tongue brushed against his frenulum. “Shibal,” a low curse escaped between his clenched teeth. His hand moved from her jaw, his fingers threading in her hair. “Hoooly shit,” he dragged out. “Your mouth feels so good. Mmmng.”
His fingers knotted deeper into her hair, not to pull her away, but to ground himself. He was used to women who knew exactly how much suction to apply and how to pace themselves. But she was exploring. She was tasting him like he was something forbidden she finally been allowed to touch.
“Wrap your hand around here,” he guided her hand to the base of his cock. “And do this.” He began to move her hand up and down all the while she still had his cock in her mouth.
He moaned louder from the combonation of her mouth and hand. “That's it,” he sighed. "Just like that. Good girl.”
She pulled her lips off her shaft and swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock. Her tongue flicked at the ridge once, then twice before she took him back in her mouth.
“Mmmng, shibal,” he groaned. He gripped her hair and pulled Her back, “Can you take more of me, y/n?” he asked. “Hmm? You’re a good girl, aren’t you? You can take more of my cock, can’t you?”
She looked up at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her gaze soft but sinful. She nodded. “Mm-hmm,” her hum was soft.
That sound. That look on her face. It all did something to him. He let out a harsh exhale and moaned, low and guttural. "Good girl." His thumb brushed over her lower lip."Now, open your mouth for me, baby.”
He pushed her head back down on his cock. She took him halfway, and he cursed at the sight. “Shibal. Mmm,” his throat went dry. “Fuck. You’re being so good for me.” His hand guided her to bop her head up and down as she stroked and sucked.
Yoongi knew he was going to Hell for this. She was an angel, innocent and he was a bastard. But at that moment, he would gladly walk into Hell and make the Devil himself jelaous for have the taste of her on his tongue.
His hips thrusted forward into her mouth. “Fuck,” his head fell back before he looked back down at her.
Her muffled moan vibrated around his length—a sensation so dangerously sweet that his hips jerk forward instinctively, pushing deeper to meet the back of her thraot. his grip in her hair tightened just enough to hold her steady as he moaned through clenched teeth.
She grinded her tongue against his shaft. “Holy shit,” The word came out ragged, barely more than a breath.
She wanted to go deeper. She wanted to know what it felt like to have his cock hit the back of her throat until her would eyes watered. To have him cum down her throat.
He hit the back of her throat, and she gagged around him. The vibration of her throat made the heat in his stomach rise. “Shit, y/n,” her name escaped his lips like a prayer. “Look at me,” he murmured, and she did.
Her lips were still around his cock, but her eyes were wet with tears. They were heavy, watery and your cheeks were flushed. “You want me to cum down your throat, baby?” he asked. “Hmm?”
She nodded as his cock fell from her lips. “Yes, please,” she whispered.
Yoongi couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “Mmm, so polite,” he said before guiding her mouth back to his cock. “Fuck- shiiibal,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling. He moved her head deeper and faster up and down. “Just like that, baby…mmmng…mmm- I’m gonna cum.”
His grip in her hair tightened as she moaned around him, taking him deeper. His hips jerked as he came in the mouth. “Shhiiibal.”
Y/n pulled away, his cum sitting on her tongue as she looked up at him. Yoongi sighed as he looked down at her. He cupped her cheek and leaned forward, breathless. “Swallow,” he said, and she did. “Good girl.”
Her lips were red and swollen, but he was not done with her just yet. He wanted to see how wet she was. He wanted to feel how her pussy would clench around him while he had his cock burined deep inside her.
He tugged her up to straddle him.
“So,” she challanged. “Now what?”
He looked up at her with an amused expression. "Now?" his hand still tangled in her hair as he leaned in close. Their lips just barely grazed before he flipped them over she so lay beneath him. “We see how…” he reached down, gathering her skirt as he reached between her legs. “Wet this pussy is.”
His fingers brushed over her panties, and a moan built in his lungs. She was soaked. He looked down and he could see the outline of her pretty clit through the thin fabric. He pressed his fingers against it, and her hips moved.
“Mmm,” she moaned softly.
“You’re so wet, cheonsa,” he murmured. “Since it’s your first time, I assume I will go slow.”
She looked at him, her eyes clouded by need, want and lust. “Mm-hmm,” she nodded.
“Good.” He pulled her panties off. Her skirt was hiked up around her waist, her legs spread wide open to give him a perfect view. His fingers brushed between her folds into a V.
Her back arched just enough as a whimper left her lips, and the sound went straight to his cock making him rock hard all over again. He pushed one finger inside her, and her lips parted with a gasp.
“Just one finger and this is how tight you are?” he chuckled and added another finger, stretching her out even more for him.
“Mmmng,” she whined. He felt her clench around his fingers, and he cursed under his breath.
“Holy fuck,” he murmured. “You’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”
He began to pump his fingers in and out of her slowly in a waving motion. But then he curled his fingers inside her, hitting that sweet stop that had her back arching off the bed. “Ah, there it is,” he mused. “You like that?”
She moaned louder and nodded. “Yes,” y/n gripped the bedding with one hand while the other held his wrist where he fingered her. She didn’t stop him, only held his wrist as he moved his fingers.
He curled his fingers again, and her back arched again as his thumb pressed against her clit this time and did circle motions.
“Mmmmm,” she moaned. “That feels so good.”
“Mmm, I bet it does,” he hummed. “You’re a brat, but you can also be a good girl.”
He withdrew his fingers from her and brought them to his mouth. He paused. His brows pulled together as if he was confused. “You taste…” he trailed off, and she almost sat up. She did not understand the look on his face. Was it…bad?
Before she could voice her question, Yoongi grabbed her waist and held her in place. She tasted like a drug. There was no other explanation. It went straight to his brain and that made his head spin. He needed to be inside her.
He lined his pre-cum-dripping cock to her entrance and pushed the tip of his cock inside her slowly. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips. A distraction from the sharp, burning stretch that made her body tense, and her breath catch in her throat. Her nails dug into his skin as she squeezed her eyes shut and a cry escaped her lips before she could stop it.
“Ah,” she buried her face in his shoulder.
Yoongi stilled immediately. He looked down at her, his palm cradling her cheek, guiding her to meet his eyes. “We can stop,” he said.
Y/n exhaled slowly, steadying her breathing. “No,” she shook her head.
For the first time that evening, she saw his gaze soften. He leaned down and kissed her as he pushed deeper into her. And then, something shifted. The pain dulled and was replaced by something foreign. A warmth that built in slow, pulsing waves through her body. She moaned and her body arched towards him.
He groaned at the sound. He felt her trembling beneath him.
“Yoongi,” she moaned. “Move. Please move.”
He didn't hesitate. His hands grabbed her waist, keeping her still before sliding his cock back inside her. Once. Twice. Over and over again. Her mouth fell open, her words were caught in her throat, choked off by the feeling of him filling her. a whine built in her chest that matched his own.
“Look at you,” he rolled his hips. “Taking me so fucking well.”
“Mmmng,” she moaned in response. “Deeper.”
He chuckled though a moan. “You sure, cheonsa? You won’t be walking straight tomorrow.”
She nodded, her eyes teary with need. “Please,” she said softly. “Please, Yoongi. Deeper – harder. Please, please.”
He cupped her cheek and kissed her. “Because you asked for nicely,” he said, and picked up the pace, going faster and deeper.
He pressed his forehead against hers. “Like this?”
“Mm-hmm,” she moaned. His thrusts were deep and hard. His hip bone grinded against hers, leaving behind red marks.
Her head fell completely back against the bedsheets, and his hand dropped from her cheek to her neck, his fingers wrapped around her skin, squeezing just right to keep her where he wanted her. She moaned louder, and he smirked.
“You like this?” he asked, and she bit her lip. “How about this?” His other hand moved down to her clit, and he rubbed slow circles all the while he thrusted into her.
“Yoongi,” she chocked on her moans.
“You wanted hard,” Yoongi purred. “Tell me, doll, does it feel it? Hmm? Come on, tell me just how good it feels. It will get me close.”
Her eyes widened as he found a spot he had hit earlier with his fingers. Her walls clenched around him, pulsing almost. Her eyes teared even more. “Ah,” he moaned. “You close, baby? Hmm? Are you gonna cum on my cock?”
Tears fell from the corners of her eyes, disappearing into her hair. “Yoongi…” her voice was breathless and desperate. It barley sounded like a whisper. “I’m…fUUck!”
Her walls clenched around him, hard and tight. He needed to pull out or he would cum inside her without permission. He pulled out and finished on her stomach.
He wanted to clean her off with a towel, run her a bath and make sure she was taken care of. Especially since it was her first time, but before he could do anything.
“Y/n?” Hoseok knocked on the door.
Both Y/n and Yoongi froze because the handle on the door moved, but the door did not open. It was locked.
“Are you okay?” Hoseok asked.
“Ye-yes,” she called out. “I’m fine, just…” she paused, thinking for an excuse. “Just cramps. I won’t be going back down, cousin.”
Yoongi got off the bed and buckled his belt in place and tucked his shirt in. Y/n also got off the bed. She smooth out her skirt and combed her fingers through her hair. The cum still was on her stomach. Yoongi looked around and grabbed the nearest thing he could find. He took a top he found on the chair and grabbed her wrist.
He tugged her towards him and cleaned off her stomach.
“Oh,” they heard Hoseok on the other side of the door. “Okay. Have you seen Yoongi? I thought he left, but his car is still outside.”
Y/n looked at Yoongi with wide eyes. “Come on,” he whispered. “I know you can lie your way through this, cheonsa.”
Her jaw flexed as she held his gaze and lied through her teeth. “Do I look like I care about your friend?” she said, and Yoongi smirked.
“Okay,” Hoseok said. “I’ll come by later.”
They waited until they heard his footsteps fade away before Yoongi unlocked the door. He paused to look over his shoulder at her one last time. “You should take a bath,” he said. “It will easy the soreness.”
