something something your friends howling with laughter when you send “john mactavish — the better john” back to the table he shares with a bunch of wide shouldered sorts with a careless “sorry, i prefer my “johns” with experience” after a cursory up-and-down over his body.
those same friends staring slack-jawed when an absolute bear of a man drops heavily into the seat opposite you with a “heard you like a john with experience, s’that right, sweetheart?”
meanwhile you’re staring at the grey hair in his beard and at his temples with something approaching stars in your eyes
→ summary: you give jimin a secret blowjob during a get together at taehyung's penthouse
→ pairing: bts!jimin x fem!reader
→ tags: smut, jimin smut, kissing, bts fanfiction, jimin x reader, park jimin, secret relationship, angst, romance, bts au, idol au, party scene, tension, forbidden love, slow burn, head, blowjob, teasing, flirting, dialogue, dirty talk, etc
→ word count: 3.0k
→ a/n: I FEEL MYSELF RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS...feel free to suggest things in my inbox >:)
masterlist
the bass of taehyung's expensive sound system thrummed through the floor, a steady heartbeat for the gathering. laughter echoed off the high ceilings and glass walls of the penthouse, the city lights of seoul twinkling outside. it was one of those rare nights where the chaos of their schedules aligned, bts and their partners, all gathered in one space.
you were nursing a flute of champagne, the bubbles tickling your nose, your body angled just so on the velvet sofa to have a clear line of sight to him.
he was leaning against the kitchen island, effortlessly captivating in a simple black silk shirt that clung to his shoulders and chest. he was listening intently to something yoongi's girlfriend was saying, his head tilted, a polite smile on his lips, but you knew him better. you saw the way his eyes kept flickering away, scanning the room, searching. and when they found you, the polite smile transformed into something else entirely.
it was a private, searing look that lasted no more than two seconds before he deliberately turned his attention back to the conversation. but it was enough. a current arced between you across the crowded room, a secret energy. your stomach clenched, a familiar heat pooling low in your belly.
this was the game you played. the delicious, maddening, terrifying game of being his secret. six months of stolen glances, of coded text messages, of quick, desperate encounters in back hallways and darkened cars. the secrecy was a kind of constant low level hum of danger that made every touch feel risky. but nights like tonight, surrounded by everyone you were hiding from, were a special kind of torture and thrill.
"are you even listening to me?" hae, hoseok's girlfriend, nudged your arm playfully. you blinked, snapping back to the present. "sorry, zoned out for a second. what were you saying?"
"i was asking if you've seen the view from the terrace yet. it's insane. tae really outdid himself."
"i bet," you murmured, your eyes drifting back to jimin. he had moved now, standing by the large windows, staring out at the city skyline. his profile was sharp, beautiful, the line of his jaw tense. he looked pensive, distant. you wanted nothing more than to go to him, to wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek against his back, but you couldn't. you were just friends, another guest at the party. the thought was a bitter pill.
as if sensing your frustration, he turned from the window. his gaze found you again, and this time, it was heavier, more deliberate. he let his eyes linger, a slow, appreciative sweep from your face down to the bare skin of your legs, exposed by the slit in your dress. you felt the caress of his gaze like a physical touch, your skin prickling with heat. he raised his glass to you in a silent, mocking toast before taking a slow sip. the message was clear:i want you and we can't do a damn thing about it.
you clenched your jaw, taking a gulp of your own champagne. two could play at that game. you set your glass down, stood up, and made your way towards the balcony, deliberately walking a path that would take you right past him. you didn't look at him, but you felt the shift in the air as you approached. you paused by the door to the terrace, pretending to be interested in a piece of art on the wall, your back to him.
"you're playing with fire," a low voice murmured right beside your ear, making you jump. he had moved so silently.
"someone has to," you retorted quietly, not turning around. "you can't just look at me like that and expect me to do nothing."
"like what?" he asked, his voice a challenge. you could feel the warmth radiating from his body and smell the faint, clean scent of his cologne.
"you know exactly how you were looking at me."
he chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that you felt more than heard. "i have no idea what you're talking about. i was just admiring the art."
you finally turned to face him, your eyes flashing. "the art? is that what we're calling it now?"
his smile was wicked, his eyes dark and alive with mischief. "the best kind. a living masterpiece." his gaze dropped to your lips for a fraction of a second. "but you're right. it's not fair." he took a small step closer, bringing you into the shadow of a large ornamental plant near the entryway. the proximity was dizzying. "i've been thinking about that dress you wore last week; how i peeled it off you, how you tasted."
your breath hitched. "jimin, stop."
"or what?" he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "you'll make me stop thinking about bending you over this railing right now?"
a shiver raced down your spine. the risk was immense. taehyung's girlfriend was laughing with jin just a few feet away in the living room. "we can't," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.
"i know," he breathed, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, his thumb stroking circles through the thin fabric of your dress. it was an innocent enough touch for anyone who might glance over, but for you, it was branding. "that's what makes it so much fun, isn't it?"
he was right. the fear, the adrenaline, it was all mixing with the raw desire to create a potent cocktail. you could feel your resolve crumbling.
"i have an idea," he whispered, his eyes gleaming. "trust me?"
you looked into his face, searching for any sign of hesitation. there was none. only confidence, desire, and that familiar, dangerous spark. against your better judgment, you nodded.
"good girl," he murmured, the praise sending another wave of heat through you. "finish your drink. walk back to your seat. in two minutes, get up and head for the main hallway. the one by the guest bedrooms. don't look back."
and then he was gone, melting back into the party as smoothly as he'd appeared, leaving you leaning against the wall, your heart hammering against your ribs. you did as he said, your legs feeling unsteady as you walked back to the sofa. you picked up your champagne, your hand trembling so much the liquid sloshed against the sides of the flute. the next two minutes were the longest of your life. you nodded and smiled at the conversation around you, but you heard none of it. all your senses were focused on the hallway, on the promise of what awaited you.
when the time was up, you stood. "just heading to the restroom," you said to no one in particular, your voice sounding surprisingly normal.
the hallway was dimmer, quieter, the thumping bass of the music a distant pulse. you saw him immediately, standing outside a door halfway down the corridor, his back to you. he didn't turn as you approached, but you knew he was aware of your every step. he pushed the door open; a guest bedroom, not the bathroom - and gestured for you to go in.
"jimin, no," you protested in a harsh whisper. "someone's bedroom?"
"relax," he said, following you in and closing the door. the click of the lock was unnervingly loud in the sudden silence. "it's the spare room. no one's been in here tonight." he took your hand, his grip firm, and pulled you further into the room, away from the door. the space was pristine, the bed perfectly made, the air still. it felt like a different world.
"this is insane," you breathed, but you were already moving into his embrace, your body betraying your words.
"completely," he agreed, his lips finding yours. the kiss was desperate, hungry, six months of pent-up frustration and longing pouring into it. his hands were everywhere, tangling in your hair, sliding down your back to cup your ass and pull you flush against him. you could feel how hard he was, the rigid length of him pressing insistently against your stomach through his trousers.
you moaned into his mouth, your own hands roaming his chest, feeling the taut muscle beneath the silk shirt. you wanted to feel his skin, to taste him, to have him in a way that was impossible in this room, on this bed, with a hundred people just outside. the frustration was agonizing.
"i need you," you gasped, breaking the kiss.
"i know, baby. i know," he soothed, his forehead resting against yours. "but we can't. not here. not like this." he took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a moment. when he opened them, they were dark with a new kind of intensity. "but i can't leave you like this. and i can't go back out there like this."
he took your hand and guided it down to the front of his pants, pressing your palm against his straining erection. "see what you do to me?" he groaned. "this is your fault."
a thrill went through you, a surge of feminine power. "then let me fix it," you whispered, your eyes locked on his.
his breath hitched. "here?"
you nodded slowly, a slow smile spreading across your face. the idea was reckless
a slow, wicked grin spread across jimin's face, his eyes darkening with a mixture of surprise and raw, unadulterated lust. "here?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. "right now?"
"right now," you confirmed, your confidence growing with every passing second. the risk was a potent drug, and you were already addicted. you sank to your knees on the plush carpet, the fabric soft against your skin. the movement was graceful, deliberate, your eyes never leaving his. from this angle, you had to look up at him, and the shift in power sent a fresh jolt of arousal straight to your core.
"fuck," he breathed, his hand coming up to rest on the top of your head, his fingers tangling gently in your hair. "you're going to be the death of me."
you smiled, a slow, seductive curve of your lips. "i'll try to make it worth it." your hands went to the buckle of his belt, the metallic clink sounding like a gunshot in the quiet room. you both froze, listening. the party was still a distant, muffled hum of bass and laughter. no one was coming. you continued, your fingers working with practiced ease to undo his trousers. the zipper was next, another sharp sound that made his grip on your hair tighten.
you freed him from the confines of his silk boxers, and he sprang into your waiting hand. he was already rock-hard, the tip flushed and glistening with pre-cum. you took a moment to just look, to appreciate him in the dim light filtering in from the hallway. he was beautiful, perfectly formed, and the knowledge that you were the one who made him this way, who could reduce the confident, charismatic park jimin to this state of desperate need, was heady.
you leaned forward, not taking him into your mouth yet, but letting your warm breath ghost over the sensitive head. he shuddered, a low groan escaping his lips.
"stop teasing," he pleaded, his voice strained.
you smirked and finally gave him what he wanted, swirling your tongue around the tip to taste the salty bead of moisture there. his hips jerked involuntarily, a choked sound catching in his throat. you took him into your mouth then, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until he hit the back of your throat. you relaxed, taking him deeper still, your nose buried in the coarse hair at his base.
"jesus christ," he hissed, his head falling back against the door with a soft thud. "your mouth… so fucking perfect."
you began to move, establishing a rhythm that was both leisurely and intense. you pulled back until just the tip was between your lips, then sank down again, taking him deep. your hands came up to cup his balls, rolling them gently as your mouth worked its magic. you could feel his control fraying, the taut muscles in his thighs trembling under your touch.
you were so lost in the sensation, in the taste and feel of him, that you almost missed it. a sound. footsteps. not the muffled, indistinct noise from the party, but the clear, distinct click-clack of high heels on the hardwood floor of the hallway, getting closer.
panic, cold and sharp, shot through you. you froze, your mouth still full of him. jimin's eyes flew open, wide with alarm. his body went rigid, his hand tightening in your hair, not in pleasure but in a silent command to stay still. the footsteps grew louder, accompanied by a female voice, laughing.
"…so i told him, if you think i'm wearing that, you've lost your mind!" the voice was right outside the door now. it sounded like one of the stylists' assistants.
jimin's eyes were locked on yours, a frantic, silent communication passing between you. don't move. don't make a sound. you could feel his heart hammering through his shaft, the frantic pulse a stark contrast to the stillness of his body. the risk was no longer thrilling; it was terrifying. your own heart was beating so hard you were sure they must be able to hear it through the door.
the doorknob jiggled.
your blood ran cold. it was locked. thank god, it was locked. but what if they had a key? what if taehyung told them where it was?
"strange," the voice outside said. "it's locked. is someone in there?"
a second voice, closer this time, replied, "maybe it's just tae being weird. let's try the other guest room. i think i saw one down by the kitchen."
there was a moment of agonizing silence, and then, blessedly, the sound of the footsteps receding, moving away down the hall.
both of you let out silent, shaky breaths. the adrenaline was still coursing through you, making your hands tremble. you started to pull back, to end this madness, but jimin's grip on your hair tightened, stopping you.
"don't you dare stop," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous command. his eyes were blazing with a fire you'd never seen before, a mixture of fear, relief, and a primal, desperate need that overshadowed everything else. the near-miss hadn't scared him off; it had fueled him.
he began to move his hips, a slow, shallow thrusting into your mouth. "finish it," he breathed, his voice raw. "now."
the command sent a fresh wave of heat through you, washing away the fear and replacing it with a renewed sense of purpose. you redoubled your efforts, your head bobbing faster now, your tongue working feverishly against the sensitive underside of his cock. you hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard, and he rewarded you with a guttural moan that he quickly muffled with his own hand.
"fuck, yes," he whispered, his eyes squeezing shut. "just like that. don't stop."
you could feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming less controlled, more erratic. his breathing was ragged, his whole body tensing like a coiled spring. you looked up at his face, at the way his brow was furrowed in concentration, his lips parted as he fought for breath. he was utterly lost in the pleasure you were giving him, and the sight was the most erotic thing you had ever seen.
"right there," he choked out, his hand fisting in your hair. "i'm gonna… fuck…"
with a final, deep thrust, he came, his body shuddering violently as he spilled himself down your throat. you swallowed quickly, your throat working to take every last drop. you continued to suck him gently, milking him through his orgasm, until he was completely spent.
he slumped against the door, his body limp, his chest heaving. you slowly released him, tucking him back into his trousers and refastening his belt with nimble fingers. you rose to your feet, your knees a little stiff, and met his gaze.
he looked wrecked. his hair was messy, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were heavy-lidded with satisfaction. he reached for you, pulling you into his arms and crushing his lips to yours in a kiss that was less about passion and more about gratitude, and possession.
"you," he said, his voice hoarse as he rested his forehead against yours, "are absolutely insane."
"you knew that when you met me," you whispered back, a smile playing on your lips.
he chuckled, a low, contented sound. "i did." he kissed you again, softer this time, a lingering press of his lips. "and i wouldn't have you any other way."
after a moment, he pulled away, checking his reflection in the dresser mirror and attempting to smooth his hair into some semblance of order. "okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "we go back one at a time. you first. wait two minutes, then i'll follow."
you nodded, your heart already starting to settle back into a normal rhythm. you smoothed down your dress, ran a hand through your own hair, and gave him one last, lingering look before unlocking the door and slipping back out into the hallway. the party was still in full swing, oblivious.
you walked back to the living room, a secret smile on your face, the taste of him still on your lips. you had just reclaimed your seat on the sofa when jimin reappeared, looking cool and composed as if he'd simply been taking a private phone call.
he caught your eye from across the room and gave you a small, almost knowing nod. the game was over for tonight and you had won.
♡ grumpy!Joel that tells you to shut the hell up while you’re humming on patrol, but keeps walking slower so you’ll stay close.
♡ grumpy!Joel that complains every time you pick wildflowers on the road, then tucks one behind your ear when you’re not looking.
♡ grumpy!Joel that huffs every time you call him “cowboy,” but positions himself between you and danger without a second thought.
♡ grumpy!Joel that pretends he doesn’t care when you get a scratch, but won’t sleep until he’s checked it twenty times and kissed your forehead after.
♡ grumpy!Joel that says “you’re gonna get us both killed” when you smile at strangers, but still lets you do all the talking.
♡ grumpy!Joel that rolls his eyes when you sneak into his sleeping bag at night, but pulls you tight against his chest like you’re the only safe thing left.
♡ grumpy!Joel that tells you to quit being annoying while handing you the last piece of jerky without blinking.
♡ grumpy!Joel that acts like your teasing means nothing, but almost shoots a guy just for looking at you too long.
♡ grumpy!Joel that keeps his gun in one hand and yours in the other, grumbling about “being careful,” but never letting go.
♡ grumpy!Joel that finally calls you “baby” during a firefight, like it slipped out in panic—but won’t stop saying it after.
♡ grumpy!Joel that mutters “you drive me insane” when you laugh after almost dying, but kisses your temple like you’re the only reason he’s still fighting.
♡ grumpy!Joel that hates how soft he is with you, especially when you patch him up and call him a “big baby.”
♡ grumpy!Joel that kisses you like it’s the last time, every time, because in this world—it might be.
♡ grumpy!Joel that pushes you against a crumbling wall, panting and bloodied, just to groan, “you’re mine,” before kissing you breathless.
♡ grumpy!Joel that makes love to you in abandoned houses like you’re the only thing that survived the end of the world.
♡ grumpy!Joel that swears under his breath when you giggle during sex, only to say “keep smilin’, baby. I live for it.”
♡ grumpy!Joel that holds your face like it’s something sacred and whispers “I love you” like it might destroy him.
♡ grumpy!Joel that fucks you slow after every close call, just to feel you alive and breathing under him.
♡ grumpy!Joel that lets the whole world burn as long as you’re safe in his arms.
Thank you Black N' White yet again for documenting this moment with your gorgeous photographs.
Saw this clip and had me thinking how we get Jikook. We get that they love each other. We get that they are in love. We get that they are each other's "one and only". We get the intimacy and the ease and the safe space and we get that what they have is so much MORE than what so many want to label them as.
And we get that because of these kind of moments.
Little, sometime seemingly insignificant moments.
A little touch here, a tiny smirk there.
But these little moments are EVERYTHING.
It's the lightness of the touch, sometimes an almost touch. The gentle but also so needy approach.
It's the facial expressions.
It's the overwhelming amount of these moments and their consistency for over a decade.
It's how it's been almost 11 years.
11
YEARS.
And the way they look at each other and touch each other and are with each other is like this is all new and exciting and filled with adoration and awe... The level of intimacy is over the roof (clearly not a new relationship, clearly you can see this is a settled calm long term relationship) and yet the way they look at each other and act around each other at times feels like this is all new and fresh and like they are in utter surprise and awe that this person is theirs.
I've been watching them for the past few weeks since the tour started.
We've seen all the moments, there are so many of them. The cute interactions, the looks, the whispers, the touches.
So what is it about this moment that had me go: "This is something I have to write about"?
Well, 2 things had me at pause.
The first and obvious one was JK going for JM's necklace (or so it looks like).
Reminded me of this moment:
That need of JK's to touch that necklace, which to me, sorry not sorry, is him admiring his purchase and/or stating his purchase. There, said it!!
But the second moment, that's the one that really got me.
And I might be over reaching here, but I can't help it. It gives me the feels.
That there.
JK's reaction to JM's touch.
Just like here.
And here.
11
YEARS.
And the dude reacts to JM's touch like he's been touched by an angel.
That need to touch his skin where JM touched him. Like he's rubbing it into his skin, for memory. Almost like wanting it to stay permanently there, like his tattoos.
Idk, maybe it's me being a little over emotional here, but damn, these two they kind of have that effect on me.
