Her mother, father and brother were gone. The only people she loved, now dead after crash-landing on a planet while trying to escape their own. Their bodies either burned to ash or somewhere in the vast Arizona desert. All that she has left is herself and her will to get back home. Until a dull-eyed stranger shows up and entangles himself in the already tumultuous emotions controlling her.
\/\/\/\/
The last thing she remembers is the weightlessness and the way her stomach felt like it was invading her throat. The gravity had malfunctioned just minutes before, making the treacherous fall more unbearable than it already was.
Her mother’s shaky voice fills her head.
I love you.
We will be okay.
I love you, Nahcai.
She gasps, gulping down the dirt and black, fume-filled air. Her lungs struggle to filter the oxygen as the composition of the gases filling them is different than that of her world.
Her hands wrap around her neck, as if the action could help her in some way breathe, but she chokes on the strange gases and the debris floating above her face. The tears that streak down and puddle in her ears, from the strength of desperately inhaling and exhaling, wash away the thin layer of orange dirt that cover her tanned skin.
Soon, the black smoke layered across her and her surroundings, lifts higher into the air, giving her lungs just enough clean air to regain strength.
She inhales like a madwoman, hyperventilating to try and fill her lungs again. But with that, her vision swells and she thinks back to the breathing techniques she was taught as a child. In case of an emergency such as this.
In. Her mouth widens to take in a long, deep breath
Out. Slow and steadily her lungs push the used gases up and out into the atmosphere.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
When her head feels clearer and she no longer feels the itching sensation to close her eyes and sleep, she rolls her head to the side. Her blurred vision dissipates slowly after numerous swipes of her eyelids over dry eyes.
What lays a few feet away has her heart pounding in her chest. The almost completely black, mass doesn’t move. A few strands, of what looks like steam, raise from the lower half and for the first time, she smells the air.
Death.
No, she thinks, using all of her mental strength to push away the daunting thoughts shrouding her mind.
They can’t be.
With all of the energy she can gather, she crunches the sore muscles in her abdomen and lifts herself until she’s sitting up. She lets out a feeble whine when she sees the brokenness that is her right leg. Half of her lower leg is bent at an abnormal angle and she can already feel the familiar tingle encompassing the split bone and muscle. It’s already started healing, but not enough for her to walk, even for a few steps.
Digging her hands into the hard earth beneath her, she flips onto her front and pulls the weight of her body forwards by her arms alone. As the distance between her and the charred body closes, her eyes water with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks again. Tears of sheer loss.
She knows, from the color of his hair and the shape of his rounded cheeks that it is her brother she’s crawling towards. She can’t contain the whimpers when she is finally able to reach out and touch his arm. It’s cold. A complete contrast to the singed mess that are his legs. She can’t bear to look at them, keeping her eyes on the face she knows better than her own. Cradling his dewy cheeks between her shaking hands, she lowers her head to his still heart.
Her eyes fall upon a scene that finally opens the door in her chest, where all of the sorrow comes tumbling out in the form of a heartbreaking scream. In what’s left of the ship she and her family had escaped their home planet on, she sees two figures still strapped to the piloting seats, amidst the lavender flames of burning fuel.
Her parents.
Gone.
Everyone is dead.
Her cries fill the space once covered in dark smoke. Despair is what she is made of. It’s all that fills her in this moment. Not the blood that usually runs through her veins. Not the oxygen that was so precious just moments ago. But the despair and sadness. Nothing else matters.
All she can think about is how completely and utterly alone she is. Stranded alone, with all that’s left of who she is burning away, soon to be ash.
Her hands tighten into fists as a horrendous thought flashes in her mind. She could easily crawl over to where her parents are and join them. Throw herself into the fire that so easily took the only three people she loves.
But then she thinks of her father, and how disappointed he would be if he knew how close she was to giving up. And how, oh so, tempting the thought is. To see his daughter in such a weakened state would have broken him.
She was the light in his life. He’d always say that to her.
‘Go,’ she swears she can hear him whispering. She shivers, suddenly chilled to the bone.
Forcing her eyes away from the wreckage, she takes in her surroundings for the first time. Directly behind the burning ship are mountains far, far off in the distance. Their forms are barely visible in the dark of the night.
Opposite the mountains and long stretch of nothing, she sees the telltale sign of life. Lights. The sky glows to her left, beyond the rows of shrubbery and oddly pointy vegetation.
Instinct tells her to be wary. Whoever occupies this planet may not be to receiving of her. Her mind tells her that she has no other choice and that if she has any hopes of getting out of here, she has to eventually move. Go, like her father’s whispered words in her head.
Looking down at her little brother has her vision blurring again and more tears fall onto his face. She wipes the moisture away from both her eyes and his face, and kisses him on both cheeks. Choking out a somber goodbye, she begins pulling herself towards the line of greenery, and to what could be her demise.
What if they are carnivorous and look like something out of a nightmare. Will they attack her or will they be afraid of her. Though she knows that she is in no way harmful to anyone in the universe, if someone from another world had ever shown up to hers, she certainly would have wondered how dangerous they were.
The thoughts do nothing but make her second guess everything and slow her down. Her leg has more feeling than it did before, so she knows its healing well. Lifting the injured leg, she flexes the muscles. The pain makes her hiss, but the fact that she can even move it is a good sign. She tests whether she can put some pressure on it to help her crawl faster and the ache is almost unbearable, but she pushes on anyway.
The bushes are getting closer and her heart beats faster.
The sound of dry, rattling branches still her advancing. A shadow grows darker as it pushes through the thick plants.
She suddenly loses all of her courage, faster than she gained it and her breathing quickens to match the pace of her heart.
What steps out of the bushes confuses her. It’s a man. A normal man.
Overwhelming relief spreads throughout her body and she takes a deep breath. They must have crashed on a different part of her own planet.
She calls out for the man to help her, but instead of rushing to her side as she expects, he hesitates. His feet shuffle in the dirt, now significantly slower than before.
She notices his feet, and the weird shoes covering them. Then her eyes scan up his frame, more confusion setting in at each article of clothing. She wonders just how far off they must have crashed, by the peculiar style of clothing he dawns. But it’s his face that really throws her off. More specifically, his eyes.
He crouches down a few feet in front of her, seeming to ponder whether he should move any closer. That’s when she can clearly see his eyes. The brown orbs are just that, Brown. The eyes of her kind are different. More iridescent around the pupil. Some, like hers, glow during moments of high emotion. But his were dull. Nothing but darkness and curiosity.
She scoots back a little, unsure of what to do next. He notices her hesitation and runs forward speaking a language that is definitely not her own.
Screaming, she covers her face as if the position will protect her.
Hai! I just, just found your blog and scrolled through the whole thing! I'm so in love with it (｡♡‿♡｡) Could you explain to me a little of the story? Are they mermaids? Human? Both?
they’re both - kinda! i’m just defaulting to the game mechanics of them being humans on land and mermaids in water! and theres not a whole lot of story yet, i’m currently working on writing out their history/rules/myths based on mermaids! i really want them to be more like sirens - in my story they’re sirens and they’re mostly women, it’s really rare for men to be born as a siren. they go on land to find mates and once they get pregnant they go back to their ‘pod’ to give birth, and their pod is basically their family (it’s a group of them that swim and live together)! it’s also really rare for any of the sirens to live on land for a long period of time - at some point they usually all go back to the sea, it’s their beginning and end. i don’t really have a whole lot of it fleshed out but if you have any other questions i’d love to answer them! and thank you!! ♥
— Share the last line of your writing (wip), then tag as many people as there are words in the line. Tagged by @maptoyoongi ! 💜
WARNING—This is long and NSFW...just how I like it...
The loud thud of the doors slamming against each other as they slide back into place, snaps you out of a somewhat daze. You turn to see him pressed up against the doors, his eyes wider than ever and you realize you've never seen Jungkook like this.
And despite the awkwardness of the situation, you find yourself feeling very….odd. Like you could completely break him down right now, and the tease of that power is almost like a switch in your brain.
He looks so lost and nervous, and you can tell that he's waiting on you to say something first. The devilish part of you takes that power into it's hands, pushing the sane part of you aside like a dirty rag.
With more confidence than you expected, you say, "Hey, I was just looking for a sweater like you said I could, by the way. It's not my fault if you leave your sex toys out in the open. It was basically on display as soon as I opened your closet door."
His creamy cheeks turn beet red and you swear his lips grow a few shades pinker as well. "I-it's not....I," he begins to stutter nervously.
You notice how hard he's squeezing the bottom of his shirt in his hands. His knuckles are drained of color at how tense his hands are, all while his stuttering gets worse and worse the longer you stand there not speaking. If you had any doubts about whether your friend was a virgin or not, they were definitely gone and cleared now. There's no way he would be this nervous if he's done things before. Albeit you're probably one girl he's never thought sexually about so the situation is a little odd, but you're still his friend and it's not that big of a deal.....sex and masturbation are a normal part of life. If he wants to fuck a fake ass into Oblivion, so be it. He has no idea of the kinky shit you do behind closed doors.
But now you can't help but wonder about the things he does in private. An unwarranted picture of Jungkook's face screwed up in bliss as he slides his cock into one of the small, silicone holes places itself in your head. You shiver a bit and decide to play with him some more.
Forgive me if you hate tag games or being tagged...this is still new to my baby self. Here goes... @gguksgalaxy @jingabitch @lilliaflurr @spookitokki @bloodpotato @ironicarmy @hobisbeautifulass @honeymoonjin @solarjeon @minjoonalist @thinksshesawolf @joopiterjoon
Time passes in the comfort of his arms. Not fast. Not slow. But as it should.
I dozed off almost immediately after we collapsed into my cloud of pillows and blankets, but eventually wake up from the chilled night air wafting across my upper body.
With the help of the soft sound of his breathing, I relax further into the man beside me, curling myself around his frame and draping my leg over his thighs.
With his head turned up and eyes closed in comfortable sleepy silence, I count the beautiful blemishes scattered across the expanse of his neck, committing every detail of them to memory. The photos I used to gawk over online in no way compare to the creamy skin a breaths length in front of me. Fine hair tickles my fingers as they graze over a particular spot that my lips ache to touch.
Jimin's bare chest expands under my arm and I tilt my head up further to watch his mouth open wide to release a loud yawn that vibrates his whole body. Smiling, I pull myself up to press my lips against the patch of skin I’ve been staring at for God knows how long.
My bed creaks as his body twists to mirror mine.
“You’re still awake?” He asks hoarsely, positioning his face closer to mine on the pillow. I feel his soft fingers play with the skin at my waist, pinching and subsequently rubbing as if apologizing to the abused skin. Not that it hurts, if anything it feels extremely relaxing, more so knowing whose hands are doing it.
“I don’t want to sleep right now,” I reply.
He kisses my forehead and drags his lips down my temple to press another into the fullness of my red cheeks.
He giggles and mumbles against my cheek, “When will you stop blushing around me?”
My neck feels ticklish suddenly and my shoulder cringes upwards against him, “Whenever you stop kissing me so much.”
His torso lifts off of the bed, his hands pressed on either side of me to hold his weight above mine, “Oh, so should I stop kissing you then?”
In the most playful way I can, I roll my eyes at his absurdity, “Of course not,” I lift up, aiming for his pouty lips but end up kissing his cheek instead when he turns his head abruptly.
“Uh uh. No more kisses for you,” his own cheeks redden as he smiles down at me and sits back on his knees
“Nooooo,” I whine like the child I am and pounce at him. With more ease and agility than a human should even have, he slips off of the bed in one quick movement, leaving me to face plant into the sheets where his body just was, “Jimin!”
His loud chuckle echoes loudly off of my bedroom walls, “I like when you’re whiny,” falling to his knees gracefully next to the bed, he places his palms on either side of my head and lifts my face to his, “I guess if you need my kisses that bad then….”
I grab the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him into my waiting lips. He smirks and giggles into my mouth at first, but I persist on, swiping my tongue against his full lips to let him know exactly what I want. I know the exact moment the switch in his brain flips, as he grasps my underarms and pulls me off of the bed.
Knowing that I can trust him to catch me, I withhold the yelp in my throat and barrel on with my tongue until his lips part and mine grazes against his in fervor. With my hips now settled in his lap and my knees pressed against the floor, I subtly grind into the hardness I feel growing beneath me.
“This-” he tries to pull away to speak but I tilt my head and press my mouth tighter against his.
I had absolutely no intention of having sex with him again, but feeling him press into my naked bottom spreads fire through my limbs again and I'm weak to resist what my body wants. Even if it just got it's fill not even an hour ago. If I didn't know he was hard and almost beckoning underneath me, I wouldn't dare be as brash as I'm about to be any moment.
Slipping my hand between us, I grab onto his erection and center myself as best as I can before plunging down onto the length of it, taking him to the hilt in one go.
His lips yank away and he presses his forehead against mine, “Fuck, Anna-”
I watch his eyes glass over as he looks down between our gyrating bodies, admiring the way his length disappears and reappears between my folds. My walls clench around him at the pure ecstacy covering his beautiful face. Resting my upper arms on his shoulders, I grab more of his hair and leverage myself so that his face rests against my chest and bounce on his lap as if my life depended on it. And honestly, in this moment it feels exactly that way.
We hold each other close, not one inch of us separated from the other, and ride out our sudden, lust-filled highs.
My eyes are locked onto the popcorn pattern of my ceiling as I cum, the little mountains of paint swirl in my vision until I finally close my eyes and ride the steep wave back down into reality. Into the shaking lap of an orgasming Jimin. His face is indescribable right after he's done. Like nothing could ruin his mood in that moment, not even an asteroid crashing into the room. I just want to stare at the gorgeousness of him for hours with nothing else on my mind besides the many shades of pink blotting his full, agape lips. And the way his eyes flutter, fighting the urge to stay closed and fall asleep.
Falling back, I let my back rest against the edge of my bed and take deep breaths to calm my racing heart. The room smells like pure sex and I kind of like it.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks.
I look down at Jimin through low lidded eyes, “I didn't even realize I was smiling,” I say.
I lift myself up, disconnecting our bodies. The evidence of his orgasm leaks out of me and travels down my thigh as I sit on the edge of the bed. Jimin inhales sharply at the sight of the white, creamy substance staining my skin and now my bed sheets.
Usually I'd grab a blanket or pillow to cover myself up, but I feel completely at ease sitting naked, even under his watchful eyes. It feels natural now.
“I know this is a little late to ask,” he says, grabbing my unstained thigh and rubbing circles into my flesh with his thumb, “But, you're on birth control right?” His dark brown eyes stare up into mine carefully.
“What if I'm not?” I feel bratty and decide to challenge him just for the heck of it.
His bottom lip slips between his teeth and he raises to his knees to wrap his arms around me and settle between my legs, “Then maybe I'd have an excuse to stay.”
I melt.
Like fucking butter in his arms.
I may be reading into his words wrong, but it sounded like he wants me to get pregnant. That's crazy.
My brows furrow in on themselves, contradicting the way my chest vibrates from the pounding within. Confusion must be clear on my face.
“No, Jimin. You're crazy,” I whisper, as if someone were to overhear.
His hair shakes and tickles my chest as he moves his head back and forth. When his chin moves to rest right on my sternum, I search his wide eyes for a clue as to what is going through his mind. Is he just high on post-sex oxytocin or is he serious?
“I am. I know it's probably wrong, but it came out so easily,” he voices, his breath blowing gently up my chest. Goosebumps cover the area it's touched.
“No babies for me right now,” my lips purse. I hope he doesn't see how shy this conversation is making me feel. Not like I haven't thought of little baby Jimin’s before, but I never thought the conversation would actually come up. Especially this soon.
He lowers his face to my belly rolls and places little kisses around my belly button, “Maybe in a few years then.” He says seriously, lips brushing against the fine hairs of my abdomen.
He doesn't see my eyes widen, but I know he feels my figure stiffen a bit because he tilts his head a peaks up at me, “Jimin!” I whine and smack him on the shoulder playfully, “We literally just met!”
“That's never stopped people before,” he says. I feel his mouth upturn against my belly and the slow rumble that makes its way up his frame as he begins to chuckle.
“JIMIN!” I yell and push at his shoulders, to which he falls back, in the most exaggerated display I've ever seen, onto the floor where he grabs his stomach and belts his laughter up into the still air.
All I want to do is throw myself on him and join in with his contagious laughter, but if I sit any longer on my bed I'll never be able to remove the huge stain forming underneath me. Not being able to keep a straight face at his display of outright cuteness, I bite my lip has hard as I can and walk to the bathroom shaking my head. Though, when I see my reflection in the mirror, cheesing smile despite biting the shit out of my lip to control my laughter, I relinquish the hold on my lower lip and let it spill out.
Cleaning myself up takes just a minute with the help of magical wipes, and I'm returning to a half dead Jimin, still on the floor, glaring at the ceiling in no time. Literally glaring, as if they are having the most infuriating conversation. I take a moment and admire his sculpted body in the gleams of moonlight penetrating my bedroom window.
I'll honestly never be attracted to anyone else. It's almost a curse. I'll be utterly ruined if things weren't to work out...nobody else could even compare.
Ignoring the pile of clothes I had on before our little– not so little actually–rendezvous, I pull out a night shirt and throw it on. Realistically, I should shower, but some primal part of me wants to keep whatever is left of him inside of me for as long as possible. Plus, a shower would take away time spent with him before he leaves, which I feel approaching fast.
Silence surrounds us for a bit as I sit on the bed and watch him rise from the floor and pull my sweats back up his legs. Something on my desk catches his attention and he slides across the carpet to inspect whatever it is. His back is facing me, blocking the object that he examines quietly.
“Hmm,” he hums and turns with with his hands clasped around the object of interest, “I don't know how I should feel about this.” His brows quirk as he holds up a purple pen with a tiny figure of Mang breakdancing at the top of it.
I chortle in such an unpretty way at the ridiculous look on his face, “Don't worry, I no longer have eyes for Hoseok. Mang is super adorable though.”
He twirls my favorite pen in his hand and runs it between his thumb and pointer finger vigorously, “So, you had eyes for Hobi?”
My heart jumps into my throat. Shit.
“Oh! Well-I…...Okay,” I sigh and try to collect my thoughts and figure out a way to not make this anymore awkward, “I'm not going to deny that I've never been attracted to the others, but I've always been drawn to you the most. Now more so than ever…. obviously,” I giggle nervously, “Honestly, the rest of the guys are more like brothers now and my view on them is much different now…..”
“Anna.”
I pause mid-thought and look away from his hands, up into his crinkled eyes.
“You don't have to explain, silly. I was trying to be funny,” He drops the pen back into its place on my desk and smiled at me, “Plus I know how alluring Hoseok is, you don't have to pretend you're not attracted to him, everyone is.”
Wait a second.
“What are you saying?” I question him with squinted eyes.
“What do you mean?”
I watch his face turn from one of humor to confusion, “To me it sounds like you find him attractive.” As soon as the words leave my mouth a deep red flourishes his round cheeks.
“Ugh, well-” He turns away and pretends to examine the rest of the clutter covering my desk. No way am I letting this slip away. Jumping up from my spot I step behind him and raise on my tippy toes to rest my chin on his shoulder.
“‘Don't pretend you're not attracted to him’, Jimin,” I chuckle into the curve of his neck and press a kiss to the heated skin there.
I spot his striped shirt laying beside my feet. I pick it up and press it into his hand. He stares at it for a moment before pulling it on. When his face re-emerges I notice that it's still tinged pink but not as much as before. He really is embarrassed by my teasing and deep down, I find immense pleasure from it.
We stand a foots length apart watching each other for a minute in pure silence. I sense the mood switch almost immediately and a feeling of dread burrows it's way into my chest and stomach.
“When are you leaving?” I ask the question suddenly burning at the forefront of my mind.
His hair covers my view of his face as his head drops, “Tomorrow,” he sighs.
“Oh,” I sound, as if I didn't have a gut feeling already, “So, no staying tonight?”
He looks up at that and steps forward to cup my face in his hands.
“I'm afraid not. I'm not even supposed to be here right now,” his lips curve for a split second, “I packed earlier so that I could come see you.”
I smile as well, but it's not as genuine as I'd like it to be.
“When do you have to leave then?” My heart collapses in on itself.
I don't want him to go. Why did I have to fall for someone I can only have in fleeting moments?
“Hours ago.”
His hands leave my face and find my wrists. I'm pulled to the window where he stops to sit. He pulls me down beside him and I turn my body so that we face each other with the glass panel to my left and my legs intertwined with his.
“Do you sit here often?” His eyes are gentle as he loops upon me.
I nod my head, “A lot actually. I like to read whenever I have the chance.”
“Will you sit here whenever I can call you at night?” His hand grabs ahold of my ankle.
“You know that night time for me will be super early morning for you, right?”
“Of course I do.” He responds without hesitation.
“You need to sleep as much as you can”
He sits up straight, “I will, don't worry. I just need to call you even if it's only to hear your voice and tell you goodnight.”
It takes all of the willpower I have not to melt into a puddle of mushy feelings onto the floor. However strong I may be the keep from fainting from such an overwhelming feeling of love, I can't control the few tears that glide down my cheeks and drip onto my shirt.
I'm ridiculous, really. I may seem like a strong, independent woman on the outside, at least I hope that's what others think of me, but the real me is malleable and soft. Even the tiniest things can penetrate my falsely-thick skin.
Do I just accept that some crazy, weird, teenage girl hormonal shit is happening inside of me?
The sound of air being pulled roughly through teeth pierces my tumultuous thoughts.
Jimin has his hand in his hair, keeping the dangly front pieces from hiding his almost flawless forehead. His eyes are watery, but not like mine. He seems to be having an inner struggle with himself, based on the tense set of his usually relaxed lips.
“I'm sorry, Anna. I know this is all…….crazy.” He leans forward to wipe the tears from my face with his thumb on one side and the back of his hand on the other, “You feel it too, don't you?”
Oh, I feel it. But does he really feel the same? The same crushing weight that has me emotionally on edge 24/7.
“Yes,” I murmur, avoiding his eyes out of shyness.
His touch leaves me and we sit in silence for the umpteenth time tonight. Both of us caught up in our own thoughts.
Jimin is the first to move. His form rises from the window seat and ponders over the inspect the few books I have on a shelf beside my bed. He runs his finger across a few spines before speaking, “We won't be back until awards season in December.”
I frown, “That's in three months.”
“Yeah. Then after that we leave again for the second leg of our tour. I know it's a long time, but I promise to keep in touch.” His eyes reveal no emotion as they turn back to me.
I know how long they usually go on tour and knowing them, they will more than likely announce more dates as time passes. Not that it's a bad thing, but now more than before, I worry about his, and the others’, health. And sanity.
And whether what we have will be able to last through just a telephone or computer.
“I know you will,” I say, crossing my legs, “Try and stay healthy though.”
“Of course,” He smiles gently.
A bright light illuminates the opposite side of my bed and a chime follows. Jimin walks around to grab his phone and read what I assume to be a text message. His face is lit by the blue light from the screen and I swear I can see the disappointment in his eyes as he types.
After, turning his phone off and placing it on the bed he, once again, fiddles with his hair, “I have to go now.”
“Oh.”
“My driver is outside.”
I jump up from my seat in false haste. Every nerve in my body wants me to go as slow as I can at seeing him out, but it's going to happen either way. Why put off the pain?
“Um—I’ll get your clothes.”
He nods and I make my way into the bathroom to grab his clothing that I had hung up earlier to dry. As expected, they are still sopping wet, so I bundle them as best as I can in case anything is still dripping.
When I return with the wet clothing in my arms, I display the best apologetic face I have, “I should've offered to dry them downstairs at the laundromat but I wasn't thinking straight.” I place the clothes in his arms.
“Let's make a deal,” he says, pulling the shirt out of the bundle and handing it back to me, “If you let me keep this on,” He grasps at the striped shirt he currently sports, “I'll let you keep this wet shirt.”
“Well that shirt is yours anyways…..” I laugh, taking the shirt.
“I'd actually leave it with you, but I don't want to go back into the rain shirtless. So keep that one.”
“Why do you want me to keep your shirt so bad?” I cock my head to the side and place a hand on my hip, the bratty side showing its face again.
“I like the idea of you in my clothes. My girl, in my clothes.”
“Your girl?” I swallow.
“My girl.” He hums and pulls me into his arms, dropping the clothing onto the floor causing a resounding thump.
Just about the same noise my heart makes.
“So…...are we……” My lips shut as I realize what I'm asking.
“What?” His teeth peek out from behind his lips as he smiles.
“Nevermind,” I shake my head and lay it on his chest.
He runs his hands through my hair and tilts my head up to gaze into my eyes.
“Anna. Will you be my girlfriend?”
“Yes.” I answer, embarrassingly fast.
The eyes I've loved for years look down at me in admiration.
“My first girlfriend,” His smile is so wide and bright, I can almost feel the light illuminating my face.
For a second I'm heartbroken that I can't say the same. I've had boyfriends before, none as serious as this by a long shot. But there's something about 'the first’ and I wish I could share his joy in that.
It all seems insignificant though when his lips touch mine.
•••
The whole night seems like a blur now, as I sit in my window seat, watching the spot where his car just was. I try to ignore the ache taking over my chest, knowing that I will only see him through a screen for the next 3 months at least. At least I will see him in some form or another, I tell myself.
It doesn't work.
I fall onto my bed and mope into the pillow that still smells like his shampoo. Looks like I'm not washing this pillowcase for a while.
Does that make me weird? I think to myself
Maybe I'm just in love.
Right as I'm finally falling asleep, my phone dings.
I open the newly-downloaded app, Snapchat and click Jimin's message. A picture pops up of me asleep against his chest with text that says ‘I have the world's prettiest girlfriend’.
*I know it’s been FOREVER......2 months to be exact. But I’m back bitches. You didn't lose me! Enjoy ;]*
I pull the door open quickly, “You should make a checklist or-” I stop mid-sentence, staring in shock at the figure standing completely drenched on my doormat.
“Jimin.”
He stands before me, lips parted, blonde hair matted to his forehead; water dripping down his beautiful face. My breath catches in my throat and I literally swoon. I grab onto the door for support, more mental than physical, as a million questions race through my mind.
He swallows visibly as his eyes travel down my shock-stilled frame and he steps forward through the threshold, closing the distance between us. My head tilts back to gaze up at him, open-mouthed and stunned.
His plush lips press together tightly then open again hesitantly. “I-”
I can almost feel his chest expand as he pulls in a breath of air.
“You-” I whisper.
His hand lifts slowly and cradles the side of my face, sending my heart into overdrive. I try to speak but I'm only able to mouth the first half of ‘what’. His dark brown eyes peer down into mine, flickering back and forth between the two, as his fingers smooth down my cheek lightly.
He’s nervous.
“I should’ve listened to you.” He says quietly, but it feels like the loudest thing I've heard in days.
I can't describe or place a name on the raw emotion I feel hearing those words. I don't even know if it's more sadness or relief, but the metal ball that has taken place inside of my belly for more than a week bursts into pieces, and tears fall in streams down my face. His thumb swipes at the wetness drowning my cheeks, but he can't possibly keep up with the mess I'm making of my face.
My eyes flicker over the somber face inches in front of me, taking in every perfect detail: his pale, trembling lips, his red, puffy eyes and his pink nose that I long to stretch up and kiss. It's then I realize how cold he must be.
Swallowing, I take a step back, his hand still glued to my face, and look him over. His t-shirt is completely soaked through and sticks to different parts of his chest while the bottom of the wet fabric drips onto my living room carpet. A shiver crawls up my spine from the cold breeze blowing through the still open door.
Wiping my eyes roughly with the back of my hands I reach past him and push the door shut. He doesn't move from his spot, gazing down at me with those watery eyes.
My hands grab onto the arm raised up near my face and rub across his cold, damp skin. “You must be freezing.” I whisper.
His eyes blink, refocusing on me. “I'm okay.”
My fingers move up his arm to wrap around the ice cold fingers pressed against my cheek. I take in a sharp breath at feeling how incredibly cold they are and pull his hand down to my chest, covering it with both of my much warmer ones. I was in such shock, I didn't feel, nor see, how cold he is; not even how frozen my own cheeks are.
“Jimin,” My eyes glide over him again, “You're going to get sick! Come on.” I pull him down the hall and into my room, fully aware, but not caring of the amount of water dripping onto my carpet.
“Take your clothes off.” I say, knowing it sounds different than intended by the way his facial expression changes.
“Um-”
I dig through my drawers and pull out the baggiest pair of sweatpants I own and a long sleeved shirt. Throwing the pants onto my bed, I take off the shirt I accidentally borrowed from him and throw it as well. Jimin's eyes bulge as he watches my topless form.
I hold back a smirk and put on the shirt I just pulled out instead, covering my bare chest from his unwavering eyes. It's much more fitted than his shirt was, so the shape of my breasts are clearly discernible through the stretched fabric.
“Put those on.” I point at the clothes on my bed and he wordlessly begins removing the wet articles of clothing from his body. Shyly, I glance away when he pulls his boxers down. I know he can see the blush on my cheeks by the little giggle he makes.
“I didn't think we would take our clothes off this fast.” He comments, causing more blood to rush to my cheeks.
I stop staring at the floor and pick up his soaking wet clothes from the carpet, needing a distraction from our current situation. I squeeze the excess water out of his clothes in the bathroom and hang them in my shower to dry. When I walk back into my room he's sitting cross-legged on my bed looking my way. Our eyes connect and all silliness is gone; replaced with unnecessary anxiety.
His frown turns to a sweet smile and he pats the bed in front of him, inviting me over. As I climb onto my bed, I can't help but think how weird it is to see him in my room again. I could easily forget the past agonizing week and sit with him here, doing absolutely nothing but enjoying his presence. I feel oddly shy as I sit opposite him, like I've reverted back to how i felt weeks ago.
There's just a few inches of space between our bent knees. I catch a glance of his muscular thighs stretching out the grey fabric of my sweats and heat spreads, replacing the cold in my limbs.
We sit in silence for a minute or two just looking at each other and it feels so...easy.
Jimin breaks the quiet first.
“I'm sorry.” He says, his hands moving anxiously in his lap. “I know it's not fair that I want to explain myself to you when I didn't even give you the chance to do it.”
I inhale slowly and deeply, filling my lungs with cool night air. “I should've told yo-”
“No, no. Tae told me everything. I thought the worst of you. If I had just listened that night, we could've spent all of the time we lost together.”
I sigh as I watch him run his hand through his hair, a habit that I will never get tired of seeing. The strands fall right back into the same exact place they were, before he brushed it back. I wonder if he knows just how incredibly attractive he is doing that simple act.
Instead of being full of questions, like I thought I would be, I can’t think of anything to say to him. All I want to do is climb into his lap and wrap my arms around him. To feel the beat of his heart next to mine. Anything but talking, ironically.
I rub my hands on my thighs, yearning to reach out and have some sort of physical connection with him, but I know we need to talk first.
“It’s okay.” I say softly.
“But it’s not,” He shakes his head, “And I can’t believe Jin….” He slumps into himself and his hands work faster in his lap; he’s clearly upset and stressed.
I hate how I never know the right thing to say when people are hurting. It’s like my brain completely shuts down, and prevents me from making one coherent thought. Slowly, I place my hand on his knee, actual touch being the only comfort I can offer. For the both of us.
He looks down, smiles gently at where I'm touching his leg and lifts my hand into his own, flipping it over so that my palm faces up. My eyes focus on our hands. His feels surprisingly warm, considering he was as cold as ice just a few minutes ago, and the heat only makes me want to crawl into his embrace even more. I concentrate on his touch and try hard not to break out into chills from our temperature difference.
Funny how all I wanted was comfort from him in any way possible while we were away from each other, but now that he's finally here in front of me, I feel content, and now I’m the one attempting to console him of his worries. Just his presence alone has healed everything for me.
“How are things…..with him?” I ask slowly, watching his face for a reaction. He only gazes at our hands, his face dulling back into a sad, downward state.
“He admitted everything to me just before I came here.” I gasp, not just from his answer but also from the tingling sensation running up my arm when he starts to run his finger over my open palm. Swallowing hard, I avoid looking at what he’s doing to me, but staring at his gorgeous face isn’t helping the squeezing feeling forming in the pit of my stomach either. He doesn’t notice my reaction and continues talking, “He was very remorseful and I ended up forgiving him, but I know things will still be different between us for a while.”
He closes my hand and pulls my fist to his lips, placing a soft kiss to the back of my fingers. I have to lean forward for my hand to reach his mouth and his eyes flutter to mine as he continues; kissing each finger lightly with his chilled lips. My cheeks turn red from the way he watches me and I feel his mouth upturn into a smile, against my hand.
“What I really want is for him to apologize to you.” He adds on.
I cringe involuntarily and he quickly lets go of my hand, letting it fall between us. I don’t know if I even want to see Jin right now. What could he possibly say to me to make things right?
“Not right now of course,” He voices nervously after seeing my expression.
“I’m sorry I just-” I bite my bottom lip and avert my eyes, “I feel kind of...mad at him and I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet.”
“No, no I understand. Honestly, I feel the same way, but I mean I have to see him.”
A few strands of his hair move across his forehead and he whisks them away before folding his arms together. He still looks cold, almost to the point of shivering. I frown and grab one of the many blankets on my bed to give him and notice my curtains moving gently.
I never shut my window.
“Fuck.” I curse, leaping from the bed to close the glass pane.
I shiver myself and run my hands up and down my arms as I walk back to the bed, where a wide-eyed Jimin sits looking at me in shock.
I pause halfway through climbing onto my bed, “What?” I ask, having no idea why he's staring at me in such an odd way.
The corners of his mouth lift up, “Just hearing you curse, it's alarming.”
I laugh loudly and sit back in front of him, but closer than before. His body visibly tenses and his eyes dart to my folded legs.
“I hope you didn't think I was that innocent. I actually happen to have a very filthy vocabulary at times.”
“Mmm. I can't wait to hear more of this 'filthy vocabulary’.” His fingers find my knee and crawl up my thigh just an inch, but enough to make me realize the not-so-hiddenmeaning behind his words.
With my mouth gaping open in shock, I playfully push his shoulder, “Jimin!”
He smirks, “I couldn't resist.” He says sniffling and wrinkling his nose.
I watch his nose redden as he swipes at it softly. I already felt bad about him standing in the cold rain, but now that he's actually showing signs of getting sick, the guilt is almost overwhelming and I start roaming my mind for ways to make him feel better. His next concert is only a few days away, and I know he'd be depressed if he couldn't sing or perform because of a sickness that could've been prevented.
“I'm so sorry,” I lean forward and place my hand against his cheeks, inhaling sharply when I feel how cold they still are. Remorse shrouds my mind. I should've remembered that my window was open and I should've covered him in blankets right away, “You're getting sick.”
Grabbing all of the blankets on my bed, and even the one wrapped around myself, I drape them over him and tuck the ends in so that no air can filter through, all while he watches me with a small smile on his face.
“It's okay, Anna. I'll be fine.” He says.
“But it's not! You have another show in a couple of days, I don't want to be the reason you're sick for it.” I frown, wondering what else I can do besides make him take a hot shower. I don't have any medicine either….
“Anna,” his arm slides out of the layers of blankets covering him and caresses the side of my calf, “We have people dedicated to keeping us from getting sick. I'm sure they'll just make me take more vitamins and drink something nasty when I go back.”
Drink….. I can make him tea!
“No, you can't stop me from worrying. I'm going to go make you some tea,” I jump off of the bed and notice him getting up as well, “You can stay here where it's warm,” I suggest, knowing full well he won't listen.
“I'll just take the blankets with me,” he stands up, adjusting the covers so that they cover his body fully, even his feet. He stops moving when he notices me watching him, “If that's okay with you?”
I almost say fuck the tea and run into his arms, with how adorable he looks all cuddled up in my blankets. Something completely possessive and instinctual that I have to push down deep, “Ahh, of course. What's mine is yours,” I say without thinking, then mentally facepalm. It's not like he was asking to keep my blankets.
If what I said sounded dumb to him, his face doesn't show it, “I'll keep that in mind for later,” he smirks and scoots forward towards me, since he barely has any room to move his legs under the weight of all that fabric.
But, I know for a fact that he is a fairly strong man, so maybe he's just being cute on purpose.
I hold back laughter at the sound of his feet sliding across the carpeted hallway. It gets harder to resist when we reach the linoleum of the kitchen and the muffled sliding sound turns into a squeaking scoot scoot.
Pulling a chair out from the dining table, the same chair he sat at the last time he was here, I turn to him, “Sit here.”
“Yes ma'am.” He huffs and plops down into the metal chair, adjusting the blankets so that he stays covered.
I smile to myself as I scour my kitchen for every ingredient I know of that can help with colds. I put water in the stove to boil as I prepare the rest of my last minute ingredients: lemon, cinnamon, ginger, cloves and honey. Once the water has reached a boil and the lavender chamomile tea bag has soaked in the water long enough I put the rest of the ingredients in.
We usually have a decent amount of coffee cups in the cabinet, but for some reason there's only two right now. My sister's 'I love Jamaica’ mug and my Chimmy mug. So of course I can't resist pulling down the familiar yellow cup and filling it to the top with tea.
I remember an old trick my mom used to do when I was younger and grab the cayenne pepper from the spice rack, sprinkling just a tiny bit into the tea. Just enough to clear his sinuses. Just in case.
He must recognize the spice because he makes a low gutteral sound as I sprinkle it, “Umm, should I be worried why you're putting that in my tea?”
Rolling my eyes, I carefully carry the cup over and place it in front of him, “It's just a little bit to help you breathe better, don't worry,” I assure him, grabbing a spoon from the utensil drawer and setting it beside the cup.
He chuckles when he looks down at the drink set in front of him, “You have good tastes in mugs….and jewelry.”
“Jewelry?”
“Mhmm,” he hums while blowing at the steaming cup of golden tea. The scent of lavender and lemon reach my nose. “Remember the bracelet you wore to the fansign?”
“Oh yeah!,” I sit across from him and watch him sip cautiously at the hot liquid. It's almost comical how long it takes for him to gather enough courage to let the tea touch his tongue. His face lights up in surprise after the first sip, “Wow, I'm actually surprised.”
I fake pout, pretending as if I'm hurt that he's surprised something I made is good.
“Not that you can't cook! Or make tea I mean! I'm just surprised that the pepper doesn't throw me off.” He watches me warily, presumably for my reaction.
I frown some more for effect, but a smile soon takes over my face at the nervous look he gives me.
“You're cute.” I say, giggling and shaking my head gently.
He beams at my words and I remember how much of a praise kink he's always seemed to have.
“That's my line.”
“So what am I supposed to say to you then?” I ask, tilting my head.
“Maybe 'You're sexy’?” He responds calmly and wraps his lips around the edge of the ceramic mug, taking a big swig.
I almost choke on nothing. He's really full of himself tonight, “You're cocky.”
“No, I'm just stating a truth. That's not being cocky.” He grins widely giving me a glimpse of his teeth.
“Oh Jimin,” I shake my head and look down. My eyesight falls on a stack of magazines left on the table by my sister. The gossip covered page turns my mood sour in record time. We still haven't talked about the news. No, the scandal.
I can't stop the quiet curse that leaves my lips at the thought of mentioning it and killing the mood.
“Anna, you really do have a filthy mouth.”
“I'm sorry,” I say softly, all happiness gone from my voice.
The mug is placed gently on the table and he scoots his chair around so that he's a lot closer to me. He's always so aware of how I'm feeling.
“What's wrong?”
I glance down at my hands for a moment before speaking, “I think we should talk about the pictures.”
His cheeks turn ashen and he sighs deeply, “We should.”
I fear the response to the question filling my mind, but I ask anyways, “Are you in trouble?”
He huffs a quick laugh and sits as far back in the chair as he can. The blankets fall off of his shoulders and split open in the front. I catch a fleeting glimpse of his taut lower belly as he stretches his arms up into the air behind his head.
“There's not really a way they can punish me. They need me right now. But I do get lectured every day about it.” He responds, pushing the rest of the blankets completely off of his body and bending over to rest his elbows on his knees.
My belly clenches. I sit, non moving in the chair as he seems to study my face. Growing self conscious, I squeeze my lips into a line and turn my attention away from his handsome face, down to his bare feet. His toes are curled under in the cutest way and I realize there’s no part of this man’s body that doesn't make me blush or give me the urge to topple him.
“When I saw the headlines, that’s when I couldn’t stop thinking about you the most. Even though I had felt hurt at the time, it was so upsetting knowing that you were most likely reading and hearing all of the hateful opinions. I wish I were here, instead of wallowing in my pain.” His face falls into his palms on an exhale.
I lean forward a bit and weave my fingers into his hair. He looks up as I push the long strands back off of his forehead. “Don’t feel bad, I was wallowing as well.”
“You never let me down,” he lifts his head from his hands and smirks with one side of his mouth, the corner of his lip curling up cutely.
“Why would I let you down?” My hand drops from his hair. I sit back and cross my arms, some brattiness seeps out from within.
“Sometimes I wonder if there's a catch or something. Like maybe you have an extra toe or maybe you kill people on the side.” his shoulders shrug.
“You’ve seen my toes! Many times, in fact. And who says I don't kill people on the side? How else am I affording this luxurious apartment?” I spin around in my chair, spreading my arms wide to show him the outdated paneled cabinets of the kitchen and the living room furniture handed down to me and my sister from our parents, “I'm clearly a hitman. Well, hit-woman.”
“See what I mean!” he yelps frantically, gesturing wide with his arms.
“I don’t.” I say. Truly confused as to why I need to have a fault. As if I don't have any, he's had to have seen some already.
His hair bounces back and forth and his lips purse tightly as he shakes his head, “You're perfect, Anna.”
I can't breathe. My shirt somehow feels too tight and I fight with my brain, who doesn't want to send the signal to my lungs to inhale. If I exhale, he’ll notice and know that I'm affected beyond words by that short statement.
Breathe, Anna.
I inhale as slowly as possible, “Me?”
“Of course you, who else?”
“I'm not though,” my hands rub against my legs, “But thank you?” I add emphasis to the last two words.
I'm not perfect. He's the perfect one. Always walking around without a care, as if he knows he already has the world in the palm of his hand. Does he know he has me in his grasp?
Jimin 'tsks’ a few times, but it's just background noise at this point. My mind focuses on one thought. He thinks I'm perfect. I think he's perfect. My perception of him only escalated to this point once I got to know him better, and now I truly, truly love everything about him.
Love.
Love?
If he thinks I'm perfect in his eyes, maybe he feels the same about me as I do towards him.
Maybe Jimin loves me.
Wait. Do I love him?
I feel hot and nauseous. This suddenly feels….serious.
Jimin's voice penetrates my racing thoughts and I feel myself jump slightly.
“Don't overthink it. Just accept it.” He gives me a huge ear to ear smile and his eyes turn into little crescent moons. And just like that my nausea is gone and replaced by figural butterflies. I could melt in this chair and drip onto the linoleum floor right now.
I can't help but wonder whether I deserve this unbelievably beautiful man in my life. How did he end up here with me of all people?
Clearing my throat, to hopefully change the subject, I gesture towards his, now empty, mug, “Do you want some more tea?”
He looks confused for a second, but quickly hides it and grabs the yellow mug, “Yes, please.”
I take the cup from his hands and walk over to the remaining tea on the stove. The tea has cooled down much faster than I thought it would and I groan softly, “Um, it's actually cold now. It'll just take a few minutes to heat it back up.”
I reach to turn the stove on, but Jimin hums.
“You don't need to, I like it cold as well.”
My hand hovers over the dial, “Are you sure?”
“Yup. I'll drink it like that.” He nods in my direction.
“Okay,” I say, pouring the amber-colored liquid into his cup. Jimin moves in my peripheral vision and on instinct I look over at him standing up from his chair and pile of blankets, now on the floor. By the time my attention is back on the task at hand, the tea has already reached the rim, but thankfully didn't spill, “Shoot,” I murmur, pouring enough tea into the sink so that it won't spill as I walk back to the table.
Grabbing a paper towel, I wipe the side of the mug. Warm hands on my waist make me jump forward, pressing my abdomen into the countertop. An angelic giggle sounds from behind me and soon the familiar softness of Jimin's flawless face is pressed into the crook of my neck.
I blame the counter for taking my breath away, rather than the pressure of his torso against my back and the feel of his lips rubbing, yet not kissing, my overly sensitive skin. I can feel his heartbeat pound at the same rate as mine, strikingly fast.
When his lungs expands, making his chest push further into my shoulder blades, I know he's breathing the scent of me in. And it's the sexiest thing I've ever experienced. His groans of delight have me relaxing into his soft embrace and my eyes close of their own accord. An overwhelming surge of emotions and sensations bubble forth, but I don't know whether I want to cry or scream.
He presses his full lips into my neck and goosebumps appear over every inch of my skin. My head falls back onto his shoulder to allow him more space to explore my skin, but instead of continuing, he threads his fingers through the hair at the back of my head and tugs gently.
I feel his mouth move to my earlobe, “I've missed you so much,” he whispers into the skin below my ear. My blood alights with fire and rushes to my erratically pounding heart. Not even a minute has passed and I already feel like putty in his hands. He could mold me into whatever he wanted without a single protest from my end.
Reaching back, I dig my fingers into his dense thighs.
“Turn around,” he breathlessly commands into my ear.
Obliging, with more anticipation than I'm willing to admit, I twist in his grip until my lower back is pinned against the edge of the counter by Jimin's, heavy yet comforting weight.
Without hesitation, he leans in to catch my parted lips in a kiss I can only describe as blazing hot. Like always that scorching heat spreads like wildfire to every end of my body. His kiss intensifies, almost like he's demanding control over my mouth. I fight the losing battle between our mouths, taking out my sorrows and pain from the days I spent hurting over him, before giving into his control.
The hand in my hair steadily moves, dragging through my locks and tugging every few moments to allow it's owner more dominance over my willing mouth.
Before I can even comprehend what's happening, I'm lifted, by my thighs, up onto the edge of the cold countertop. I yelp into his lips and frantically grab onto his broad shoulders. When he pushes me further onto the frigid counter, I hear a clanking noise and my head hits the edge of the cabinets hanging above.
“Mmmph,” I groan into his mouth in sudden but short-lived pain, before he breaks our kiss and pulls back to look at me. I watch his face pale as he realizes what happened.
“Sorry,” he says quickly, reaching up to caress the back of my head before sliding his hands down to cup my face.
Shaking my head curtly, “It's okay,” I ensure him, giggling at his adorable expressionof concern. I wouldn't have minded if he had kept on kissing me, but seeing how much he cares about such a little thing makes my heart swell.
With all hesitancy completely gone, I run my hand along his cheek, giving into the urge to slide my thumb over his reddened, lips. I can feel the atmosphere surrounding us shift. His eyes darken considerably, causing brief fear to spark within me, but it's quickly drowned out by the effervescent lust flowing through my veins.
The long tongue that I've drooled over the last few years peeks out from behind his lips and runs along my curious thumb. I push my finger past his lips, just a touch, and I swear that the heat and wetness of his mouth matches that of the crease between my legs. My legs squeeze around his waist at the sight of him sucking on my finger. I never thought that something like this could turn me on so much.
At this point I think that I could get turned on just by looking at his earlobes.
I barely get a chance to inhale before he's ravishing my mouth again. Our lips tangle more and more, the thought of them becoming one seems completely tangible in the moment. His taste drowns out my senses and embeds itself in my mouth, as if I'll ever forget the addicting flavor of him. The mere thought of forgetting brings pain to my chest.
We breathlessly clutch at each other's clothing and skin in our haste. It feels like at any moment he could rip my shorts off and fuck me right here on the countertop. And I probably wouldn't say a damn word to stop him.
When Jimin scoots my bottom further onto the counter, I feel a wet sensation under my thigh. Just as I notice it, a loud dripping sound over powers the sound of our heavy breathing and lip smacking.
Looking down at the counter beside me, I see that the cup of tea is tipped over, it's contents already covering the counter, drenching my shorts, and dripping from the counters edge onto the floor.
“Sorry again…” Jimin says faintly.
I lift my eyes up to his and frown, “I'm tired of you being sorry for the night. I forgive you for everything that's happened and everything that may happen within the next hour,” I say, smirking as soon as the words are out of my mouth, knowing it will light a gorgeous smile on his face.
He does smile and a light blush covers his cheeks. I lean into him and kiss him once more, already missing the feel of his lips. His hands rub up the sides of my wet thighs and he pulls away slowly.
“I guess you're going to have to take these off now, you know, before you get sick,” he smirks and I know I'm supposed to laugh, but I can only picture him sliding my shorts down and feeling truly how wet I am already.
He seems to read how I'm feeling, based on my non-comical reaction, and his expression darkens again. His lips find my neck and his hands grab onto every part of my body that he can. He squeezes my hips roughly, before moving up to cup my breasts through my shirt and graze his thumbs over my nipples. I shiver in his hands and gasp into his mouth, earning a small sexy chuckle from deep in his throat.
Those evil fingers of his slip under the waistband of my shorts and slowly tease downwards, as of asking permission. It's then I realize that we really are just moments away from having sex in the kitchen, where my sister could easily walk in through the front door and see. I'd never live that down.
Garnering as much willpower as I can, I place my hands on top of his exploring ones and groan out of frustration, “Jimin,” I whine.
He looks at me with shiny, glassed over eyes.
“Let's go to my room.” I say.
It takes a moment for him to shake out of his lustful daze, “Yes,” Is all that he says, before pulling me swiftly off of the counter and dragging me down the hall, back to my room.
With my door shut and locked, and all of the lights turned off, I crawl onto my bed and sit in the middle where the soft moonlight filters through my window and puddles on the bed. I know he can see me clearly in the blue-toned light, even though the rest of the room is near pitch black.
I lay back on my hands and squeeze my legs together suggestively as I watch him undressing at the end of my bed. First he pulls his shirt off, lifting it over his head achingly slow, giving me a beautiful show of his flexing abdominal muscles. I bite my lower lip when he undoes the tie of the sweats I let him borrow and practically peels them down his thick legs. I've never wanted to ride anyone's thighs more than right now, but I know we're both too worked up and impatient for that.
He joins me on the bed and my heart vibrates in my chest when the moonlight floods his creamy skin. Everything suddenly feels extremely romantic.
He helps me lift my shirt over my head and throws it on the floor, then I climb onto my knees so we're almost face to face and unhook my bra. His fingers grab onto the thin straps and pull them down my arms before throwing it with my shirt.
“I want to try something, if that's okay?” He leans down mumbling into my jaw as he presses feathery kisses along it.
“Anything,” I respond, grasping onto his arms for support.
He pulls away and looks me in the eyes as he pushes my shorts and panties down my thighs. I help him by lifting my legs one at a time to remove the wet clothing from my body.
“I want you on top,” he says, lowering himself into a lying position.
Licking my lips, I nod my head and start to climb straddle his naked hips.
“On top of my face.”
I freeze, fully registering what he's asking. The idea is amazingly appealing but something holds me back from nodding this time.
“I-i've never done that….before,” I whisper, glancing down at his the insanely hard muscle between his legs. I blush red and turn face away quickly.
He grabs onto my hands, “Don't be nervous. I haven't either. But I really want to look up at you while I taste you.”
Fuck. I moan, I can't help it. I can't deny how would I feel when he says dirty things like that.
I watch him stick his middle finger in his mouth and then reach down and coax it through my drenched lips. Involuntarily, I grind onto his hand, already wanting the feeling of being full.
With low-lidded eyes, I watch Jimin concentrate on moving his hand against me. His tongue runs continuously across his lips, as if imaging the taste of me. I close my eyes and imagine his tongue inside of me.
“You don't have to if you don't want to,” he muffles.
But I really do.
I bite my lower lip and climb up the bed until I'm next to his face. His eyes are wide with shock and anticipation at seeing me actually approach.
“I want to,” I say, before raising my leg and placing it carefully on the other side of his face. My heart pounds against my ribcage, watching him adjust his position under me. His hands grab my ass cheeks and guide my pussy down to his delicious mouth.
My whole body hiccups when his tongue presses into me. He doesn't even prepare me, he just sticks the dangerously long muscle into my hole. I spasm, groaning out explicits words and grab onto my head board. His mouth sings to my weeping core and coaxes it ever closer to bliss. I find myself grinding down onto his eager lips that devour me and worship every part of my aching sex.
His tongue finds my clit and swirls around the nub before sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with an audible pop, earning a high pitched cry my tight throat.
“Bounce on me,” He mumbles into my pussy lips.
My hips act of their own accord and follow his command. His tongue enters me fast, setting a pace for my grinding hips. I ride his face, bringing myself closer and closer to orgasm.
When my moaning becomes louder and I start to feel extremely sensitive, he pushes my hips up and maneuvers me down until I'm sitting on his stomach. Groaning out of frustration, I grind into is toned belly, searching for my climax.
Jimin seizes my movements and pulls me down to the mattress. He's in between my spread legs before I can even beg for it and he centers himself, teasing my entrance with his bulbous head until I start pushing myself down. He chuckles deeply and bottoms out in the first thrust.
“FUCK!” I scream.
His thrusts soften significantly after my outburst and he rubs his hands in circles on my belly.
“Did I hurt you?” He asks.
“No! No! Never!” I say quickly, hoping he believes me.
His fingers find my hard peaks and gently twist them between his fingertips. I feel more wetness flooding my channel and I grab onto the sheets to better push myself onto him, in time with his achingly slow strokes.
I think of how touchy and rough he was being with me in the kitchen and wonder just how rough he could get in the bedroom. I ponder over whether I should ask him or not as he continues teasing into me. It's almost like he's afraid of hurting me. He's holding back much more than usual.
When I've had enough and start to crave having him fuck me harder, I gather the courage to speak.
“Jimin,” I moan softly.
His hands move to grab onto my thighs, “Anna.”
“I want you to be rough with me.” I squeak out.
His hands tighten immediately, grabbing onto the flesh of my thick thighs and his dick swells inside of me. He liked that.
“Rough?” He asks, running his hands up and down where he just grabbed my skin harshly.
I know I'm about to see a whole other side of Jimin and the thought already has me feeling breathless, “Really rough,” I exhale.
As soon as my plea is out, he withdraws from me and flips me over. I grasp at the sheets, squeezing them tightly in my palms.
“This rough?”
I turn my head to the side to look at him. He leans over my back and grabs the back of my neck so that I can't move, “Yes,” I whisper.
“Get on your knees.” He demands softly and I oblige. His hands roam over my thighs and ass cheeks, grabbing every part of me that he can.
On my knees, with my head held pinned to the mattress by his unrelenting hand, I wiggle my ass a little, hoping he'll get how bad I need him.
“Mmmm. A lot has changed the last week. First your vocabulary is a lot dirtier and now you practically beg me to be rough with you.”
He runs his cock along my slit, dragging up and down, teasing my entrance with every pass of his throbbing member. I feel delirious with need.
The breath is forced from my lungs when he plunges into me with more force than the first time. He sets a brutally fast pace that makes his pelvis slap loudly against my ass. I find my body slipping forward with each fluid thrust of his hips, until my head is threatening to bang against my headboard. I fumble with one hand, searching for the wood above me, and place my palms flat against it. My other hand reaches back to cover Jimin’s at the nape of my neck and his grip loosens immediately, allowing me to turn face down and muffle my moans into the sheets.
My hair is pulled to the side and smoothed back from my damp skin. I twist my head back to the side and watch the way the light plays off of Jimin’s face. His lips are spread open, allowing rough breaths to pass and his eyes are on me, capturing mine under a hypnotic gaze. My moaning grows louder from feeling his eyes on me, until I’m so loud that I know my neighbors must know exactly what I’m up to.
I feel Jimin’s hand trail up my spine and massage the dip in my lower back.
“Tell me,” his thrust lighten into a more controlled pace, “If you need me to stop.”
My eyes close at the softer pace and the relaxing tone of his scratchy voice. He places a kiss just under the nape of my neck and his warm breath cascades over my neck, chilling my heated, damp skin.
“Don’t stop, please.” I whisper, reaching my arm back to grasp the hand holding my hip in place.
Both of my arms are grabbed and pulled behind me, making my torso rise off of the bed and curve outwards. He surges harder, regaining his earlier speed and leans over my arched back to press his lips under my ear.
“I won’t,” he breathes onto me.
More curse words spill out of my mouth as I take him deeper than he's ever been, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
His length stretches me out, almost painfully, in this position. The tip of him pounds fervently at my cervix and I desperately open and close my fingers, searching for something of him to grab onto, but he keeps my arms held tight behind me, so that I take every inch of him.
“Ji-jimin,” I whine into the air, fighting the battle within me to slow down. But it feels so good, I don't want him to stop. I've never felt so extremely satisfied and it makes me wonder if this is what I've been missing in my sex life all along. Roughness...or maybe I was just missing Jimin, “Uhhh….puh-lease….do-”
He release one of my arms and wraps it around my waist, pulling my body back to press against his hard, contracting torso.
He presses rough kisses into my neck, tasting me with his tongue in a wet trail up to my ear, “Don't what? Don't stop?” His other arm joins the first around my waist and he cups my bouncing breast.
“No,” I whimper, “do-nt stop.”
“Okay,” his lips drag across the back of my neck to the other side of my face, where he places more, gentler, kisses.
I turn my head to the side and he hastily captures my mouth. When I taste myself in his mouth I moan at the memory of him in between my legs. As we kiss his hand glides in between my breasts and flattens above my heart; the other crawls down my belly and slips into my folds to find my sensitive nub.
It feels like too much. Hot sweat breaks out over my skin, while I shiver from the icy pleasure spreading everywhere. All I can do is rest my head back on his shoulder and pant heavily as Jimin brings me to my release. I bite my lip to keep myself from telling him to go faster, as I'm already feeling light-headed with the rate he's slamming into me. I just want all of him.
Almost as if he's reading my mind, his hips thrust faster, making the already loud slapping noise from our connected bodies even more brutally loud.
His voice echoes in my dazed, pleasure-giving mind, “Anna, I-,” My hand raises to rest against his sweat-tinged cheek, “I-.....fuck.”
He curses into my neck and adds pressure where I need it the most. His fingers move in a way that has me moving my hips with him, frantically searching for my own release. When I finally find it, I go limp as he continues thrusting into me, slowing down to a more tolerable pace to which I ride my orgasm out.
“So beautiful,” he groans before I feel him swelling inside of me. His hands tighten where they grab my skin and his climax is so powerful that I can literally feel each spurt he makes inside of me. Something I've always read about but never believed to be true, until Jimin.
And for a split second I realize he came inside of me for the second time with no protection and I send a silent thank you to whoever invented the IUD.
We collapse onto the sheets, beyond breathless. I barely did any work, but you'd think I just completed a marathon with how fast my heart rate is. The post-sex calm sets in and I find myself slipping easily into his arms, my leg resting over his and my head tucked in tight next to his chest. I can hear and feel his heartbeat on my cheek and I close my eyes, drowning out everything else but the sound of his heart and deep breathing.
I feel so relaxed and at ease. So comfortable and completely safe. The sky could fall on top of us and I'd be happy just being in his arms before we die. It's a crazy thing, not being afraid of death. Just because of one person. And even crazier when you reach the point when you can truthfully say that you would give your life for them. Or maybe I'm just crazy, that's all.
After a while, when we are no longer swearing and my skin starts to break out in wracking chills, Jimin kisses my head and gets off of the bed to gather any blanket he can find. He layers them on top of me and climbs under, quickly pulling my shivering body back into his embrace.
“You smell so good,” he says quietly, resting his chin against the top of my head.
“It's Marc Jacobs,” I groggle into his chest.
He shakes with soft laughter and runs his fingers through my hair.
“What are you doing to me?” He asks.
I stay quiet, assuming it's rhetorical but then I remember what he was trying saying moments before I came. Or at least, what I think he was trying to say. A certain phrase that's been floating around my mind since the last time we were together.
One that terrifies me yet excites me at the same time.
Thursday morning, the day after my eventful little meeting with Taehyung, turns out to be the best morning I've had in awhile. Sometime around one a.m. Tae sent a short, but amazing message that set the stage for my day.
My heart grasps back onto the hope that it had lost at exactly six a.m. when my alarm goes off.
New message from V
V: We talked :)
Two words.
And probably the most beautiful emoji smiley face I’ve ever seen…
Are what give me the energy I need and the mental strength to get my day started with a lot more enthusiasm than usual.
As I get ready for work I think how it almost feels silly now to regain hope, just a few days before they leave for their North American tour. No matter what happens, he’ll be leaving. Gone for months. And if things aren't even somewhat resolved by then, I fear that his feelings for me will slowly fade away. He’ll get used to the way things were before and forget me completely. And if it weren’t for the phone call between him and Tae yesterday, I would think that he has already. All while I’m stuck here in Korea sulking, watching videos of him on stage from across the globe, my heart full to the brim with regret.
Waiting for him to return.
But, right in this moment, I’m done with doubt. I’m tired of thinking negative thoughts that ultimately do nothing but bury me deeper into the dirt. As painful as it is to think, I know there is a high possibility that things may never work out, but I still have to go on with life. So instead of overthinking, like i always do, I should try to stay as positive as I possibly can. It sure sounds better than moping all day, achieving absolutely nothing.
Also, knowing that there's someone on my side vouching for me is something that I can cling to for now. Tae seems trustworthy and genuinely concerned about my well being and happiness. I don’t know how to ever repay him, whether things work out in the end or not.
Once my hair is re-straightened and I'm dressed for the surprisingly cool weather, I saunter into the living room and find my sister relaxing on the couch eating a yogurt parfait so fast that she doesn't notice me enter.
“Don’t choke.” I utter, startling her.
She drops her spoon and grunts as she leans down to pick it up. “Shit. You almost made me choke.” her eyes glare at me playfully.
“Sorry.” I say, raising my shoulders out of remorse.
She chuckles and points her spoon towards the kitchen. “There's one in the fridge for you too.”
My face lights up and I dash to grab the glass jar, filled with granola and berries, from the fridge. As I'm grabbing a spoon from the drawer Vee yells from the living room.
“I added extra strawberries too!”
I lick my lips in anticipation before digging into my breakfast delicacy. It’s a relief not having to make myself food before work. Now I can relax a little before leaving.
My sister's jar now sits abandoned on the coffee table, her legs folded underneath her as she watches me eat.
“You seem happy today.” She points out, wrinkling her brows at me.
“I am!” I pop a strawberry halve into my mouth and smile down at my food that's quickly disappearing.
“Yes, but…. abnormally happy.” She adds.
I shrug and turn on the TV, leaving it on whatever channel it was last on, which turns out to be a drama network. Overly dramatic music plays as two characters come close to kissing. I giggle and prop my feet up on the coffee table. It's been so long since I've sat down and watched anything on cable TV. I peer over at my sister, feeling her eyes on me. Her dumbfounded expression makes me stop chewing.
“Whah?” I say with a full mouth.
I watch her face change, as if she's had a revelation. “Oh my God. He talked to you didn't he?” She sits up and turns her whole body to face me.
“Umm-” I swallow my mouth full of food and ponder my words. “Well…..no.”
She throws her arms in the air and grunts. “Are you in denial or something? Because….yesterday you barely even wanted to talk to me and you blasted emo music all night, but today you’re the happiest you've been in a while. What's going on?”
“Nothing.” I shrug again and scoop the last bit of yogurt out of the jar.
“Anna.” She lowers her eyelids, attempting to intimidate me, but instead it makes me laugh and almost spit my yogurt on her.
I cover my mouth to keep it closed as I giggle. I can't help but feel strangely giddy, as if there’s not one negative bone in my body.
“Things are okay. I found out that he wants to talk, but he's just afraid.”
“And that makes you this giddy?” She asks, raising one brow.
“Well, yeah. That's a good thing!”
She shakes her head as she rises up from the sofa and grabs her dirty dish to take it to the kitchen. “Young love.”
“Your not even that much older than me!” I yell, following her into the small kitchen with my own jar.
The glass clanks loudly against the sink when she places it inside with the rest of the dirty dishes. She pivots on her heel and rests her hip against the counter and I have to reach around her to put my own jar in the sink.
“You know,” Her long arms fold across her chest, “I think he’s acting like a total baby.”
I’m caught off guard by her statement and stare at her with a face of shock. “Wah? He has every right to-”
“Yeah, but you didn’t actually cheat on him. He needs to grow some balls and talk to you. It’s something that adults do, you know. Nothing is going to be solved by ignoring it.” She sighs, clearly annoyed by the topic. In three small strides, she's sitting at the table digging through her purse, pulling out trash and balled up receipts. After the table is covered in random crap she keeps in her bag, she reaches the item she's looking for.
“Here,” I’m handed a tube of bright red lipstick, “This will look good on you.”
I stare at the little tube, popping the top off and twisting it up to get a better look at the color. It’s a bold shade of blood red that I’d never even consider wearing. But, without a moment's debate, I apply it to my lips. She’s never been wrong before about what looks good on me.
Her bright smile fills me with joy, reminding me of when we were younger and how she always had a smile on her face no matter the situation. She thinks shes slick though, trying to change the topic.
I rub my lips together before speaking, “So are we not going to continue our conversation?”
Her long, silky locks fall into her face as looks down, shaking her head. “I don’t know. If I were you, I’d have gone to his house already and confronted him.”
“And that’s where me and you are different.” Chuckling, I grab my little leather backpack and put it on.
“If you don’t hear anything by tonight, go to him tomorrow.” Her voice sounds as if shes joking, but her face says otherwise.
“You’re crazy.” I say, now standing by the front door.
“And so are you for giving up so easily.”
My shoulders lower as I sigh. Little does she know that I feel far from ‘giving up’. It’s hard to not seem obsessive in this situation. Showing up at his door sounds a little to tempting right now though…..
“Hey,” I say, needing to be the one to change the topic now,before my thoughts become crazy, “Will you be home normal time tonight?” Her job has been keeping her extremely busy as of late. I feel like I live alone most days.
She grabs her things off of the table and walks over to me, ready to leave as well.
“Yes, actually!” Her usual tired face looks joyful. “Things have been slowing down at work, thankfully! Why? What’s up?”
We step out of our tiny apartment and she locks the door behind us.
“We should do something tonight. Like maybe watch movies and binge eat.” My words garner the reaction I expect: her loud snorting laugh and a pat on the back.
“There’s the Anna I know and love. Of course we can! You get the snacks and I’ll get the movies.”
Once we reach the end of the walkway leaving our complex, we go opposite directions to our respective bus stops. I place my hands in my jean pockets and smile the whole way to work. I have a nagging feeling that today is going to be a good day.
-----
After a surprisingly stressful day at work, I decide not to trust myself anymore when I think it’s going to be a good day. It’s as if the universe kept saying ‘fuck you’ all day and everything that could go wrong at work went wrong. So I make an in the moment decision and walk to the grocery store instead of taking the bus, with the intent of clearing and relaxing my overworked mind.
Glancing up at the grey, cloudy sky, I make a mental note to be quick in the store. It looks as if it could start pouring down raining any minute. The sky darkens into a more sinister color the closer I get and I consider grabbing the next bus.
Too late, I think as the storefront comes into view, faster than I expect.
A forceful tremor runs through my body when I enter the warm store, making me realize just how chilly it is outside. I guess it’s time to start taking a jacket to work. Finally. I’ve missed the cold.
Grabbing a little plastic handheld basket I stroll through the store, pulling any and everything off of the shelves that looks the least bit yummy. By the time I'm standing in the middle of the chip isle, completely overwhelmed by the selection, my basket is full of nonsense. Chocolates, chocolate covered things, things filled with chocolate and a few different sugary, caffeinated drinks. Obviously my goal tonight is to stare down the throat of diabetes.
Choosing which chips to buy is too daunting alone, so I pull out my phone to send a quick text to Vee. It’s then I see that she’s already texted me and I see that my phone is still on silent from when I turned it down earlier at work. Admittedly, I have a small heart attack seeing that I have a message from anyone starting with the letter ‘V’. I’ll have to change either my sister or Taehyung’s contact names later.
Vee: I’m really sorry but my boss asked me to stay later tonight. I really wish I could tell him no, but we both know that’s not an option with him. :( Forgive me Anna. Love you. Raincheck?
I can’t prevent the pout that sweeps over my face at her message. I was truly excited to spend time with her, and not even just to get my mind off of things, but because I miss our sister time.
Oh well. I know she’s a busy woman now. That doesn't mean that I have to cancel things.
I shove a couple of bags in the basket and make my way towards the checkout lines, determined to have a fun night of pigging out by myself. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it. What else do you do when you have too many feelings and no way to express them? You have a deep conversation with a tub of ice cream or a whole bag of chips.
I’m forced to make line behind two teenage girls, since only one register is open. The cashier is taking her time ringing up the few things an elderly man is purchasing. I sigh deeply and switch my weight to my other foot, waiting a little impatiently for the belt to move forward so that I can be free of this heavy basket. The voices of the two girls in front of me grow louder as they flip to another page in the magazine they are looking at between them. Due to our close proximity, I can’t help but pick up their conversation, especially when I hear the word ‘Bangtan’.
Gulping and pulling the basket closer to my center, I glance over the other tabloids, desperately trying to not hear their loud voices. Little bits here and there force their way into my ear though.
“Scandals like this usually destroy groups.”
“They might just kick him out instead of everyone disbanding.”
“That poor girl.”
I push down the vile rising in my esophagus and quickly unload my things onto the conveyor belt as it inches forward. In my happiness, and later stress, I had forgotten completely about the pictures the whole day. The reminder of it all has me close to dropping everything and leaving the store empty handed, just to avoid hearing more of their small talk.
With anger and anxiety slowly taking over, I slam the sodas down onto the belt, not caring about their potential loss of carbonation. The girls look over their shoulders at me, judgement being the only thing I can read from their almost too perfect faces. My movement and blood freeze as they look me over. My heart pounds, thinking that they must recognize me from the photos, despite not sporting my usual curls. I smile softly at them and place the rest of my things down, pretending to not be affected by their quizzical stares.
“Are you a tourist?” One of them asks, rudely.
I almost forget my fear as the urge to slap her takes over. As many times as I’ve been asked that in my life, none of them have been in such a negative way as just now. The anger must show on my face, as they both shrink back a little.
I stand up straight, feeling like I need to assert my dominance over them. Technically I am her elder and she just spoke to me in a purposely rude tone of voice. So I can be as bitchy as I want, right?
Maybe I shouldn’t.
“No actually, I was born and raised here.” I respond, lacing my words in false kindness.
The girl who questioned me glances down at the magazine in her hands and then back up at me. “Oh, okay.” She says.
They pay for their things and leave the store, taking my anxiety with them. It’s so hard to control myself sometimes when my emotions are all out of whack. I mentally pat myself on the back for not giving into my anger and also for forcing myself to wake up early every morning to do my hair. It truly, honestly helps. Those girls, for sure, would have been much more curious and questioning if I had my usual hair style. My hair has always been the one thing that stood out to people ever since I was a child.
Once I’ve paid for my ridiculous amount of snack foods, I place the heavy drinks in my backpack and carry the light things in a grocery bag. I race home, through the light sprinkling rain, in fear of the clouds opening up and drenching me before I make it there.
I breathe a sigh of relief when my front door comes into view and rush inside just before rain starts pounding against the roof. Unlike normal people who shut everything whenever it rains, I walk around opening the windows in the living room and my bedroom, allowing the fresh rain air to filter in. Just breathing the clean, crisp air during a storm always gives me an indescribable feeling. Like calm and still, despite the tumultuous rains outside.
Standing in front of my open bedroom window, I take a few deep breaths, inhaling the dewy air and letting it relieve my muscles and mind. After forcing myself to shower, before I became too lazy, I search through my drawers for pajamas that I have stored away for winter time, but instead I come across something that makes my mood go downhill fast.
In the bottom drawer, underneath a few pieces of clothing I hardly wear, I see a glimpse of Jimin’s striped shirt. The shirt i accidentally stole from him and hid away along with the tears it for sure would bring on. But, now as I stare at it, I feel sadness but also another emotion that I can’t place and I pull it out and slide the soft fabric over my head. I press the sleeves against my face and inhale, the scent of him faint but definitely still there. I quickly bury the emotions boiling up within in me, not wanting to revert back to uteral miserableness.
Pulling on a pair of soft shorts, I wrap myself in my blankets and lay down on my bed to watch TV, the snacks long forgotten. Scrolling through the channels, I stick to the first one that isn't playing a sappy romance movie or show, which turns out to be around the 30th channel. I guess everyone’s a sucker for romance and heartbreak, that is until they've experienced the two of them themselves.
As the room gets chillier and darker, I wrap myself tighter in my bundle of fabric and drift off to sleep a couple of times. Each time catching myself and sitting up straight to stay awake. A knock on my door startles me, effectively waking me up. I yawn and turn on my phone to see that it's just past ten p.m. Where did the time go?
I don’t remember my sister getting home, but with how much I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep, she had to have slipped in without me hearing. I climb off of my bed and open my bedroom door, expecting to see my sister there in the hall, but there’s no one. Fear seizes my heart for a moment. Is my apartment haunted?
I step out of my room hesitantly and peek into the bathroom, when I hear another knock but this time on the front door. I exhale, relieved that it's just my sleepy mind confusing me. I drag my feet to the front door, rubbing my arms at how cold the room is.
Nothing is out of place and all of the lights are off so Vee must have forgotten her keys again.
I pull the door open quickly, “You should make a checklist or-” I stop mid-sentence, staring in shock at the person standing drenched on my doormat.
