prompt ; in which you take a ride (literally and figuratively.)
warnings ; this is straight up you riding him in his race car. that’s all folks.
request ; linked here
part of the under the checkered flag universe
Jungkook’s racecar wasn’t made for comfort—not with its stiff leather seats and unforgiving angles—but that’s the last thing on your mind when his lips are on yours, your body slotted on top of his in the driver’s seat of his Ferrari F40. The car smells like leather and gasoline, with the lingering remnants of burnt rubber from earlier races, his cologne lingering in the upholstery, invading your nostrils and bloodstream.
It’s like something out of an elaborate Fast and Furious AO3 fanfiction (and you’re pulling some inspiration from them in this moment.)
It all started like this: Jungkook had pulled his racecar into his driveway, the low purr of the engine settling into silence as he parked, fingers still drumming against the wheel like he wasn’t ready to let go of the rush just yet. And maybe you should have let him have his moment when you stepped out of the house to welcome him, but when you had seen the bright red vehicle, the sleek body practically begging to be taken back onto the road, the words were tumbling out of your mouth.
“Can I ride in it?”
And of course, he could never say no to you.
Not when you were standing there in that damn sundress, soft fabric brushing against your thighs, looking at him with those eyes that made him weak in the knees.
He had just sighed, a little dramatically, like he had to pretend he wasn’t already unlocking the passenger side door.
“One ride,” he had muttered, but you didn’t miss the smirk playing on his lips as he added, “Don’t get any ideas.”
And yet, here you are now: straddling him in the front seat, chair reclined as far back as it can go, getting all the wrong ideas.
He’s so damn hot like this, half-lidded eyes watching you through dark lashes, tousled hair begging for your fingers, his grip flexing against your skin every time you shift. You, however, feel like a teenage girl sneaking kisses with the bad boy behind the school bleachers.
It’s laughable how desperate you are for him, how insanely good he looks in the most casual outfit yet it’s doing so much to you. Your lips trail down, moving from his mouth to his jaw, your faded lip gloss leaving shiny marks on his golden skin.
He’s close to giving in — you can tell by the way his breathing is more strained than ever, the way his tattooed hand tightens on the back of your head as your lips wander, the way your name falls from his mouth like he’s begging himself to not give into you. He cannot afford to explain to his manager why he so desperately needs to clean the inside of his car.
“What are you doing?” His voice is low, laced with amusement and disbelief, despite him knowing damn well what you are alluding to.
But you don’t hesitate, your mind already made up, voice muffled against his pulse. You are a woman on a mission. “We are fucking in this car.”
Jungkook is short-circuiting. There’s no other way to explain it. Because you, his sweet, sweet girlfriend, the one who used to trip over her own words just talking to him, who blushed if he so much as teased you, who once nearly choked on a sip of wine when he casually mentioned how good you looked in red, just looked him dead in the eye and said, “we are fucking in this car.”
Like you hadn’t just sent his brain into a full system reboot.
He blinks at you. Once. Twice. A third time for good measure.
“I—” he starts, then stops, swallows hard, shakes his head as if he’s trying to clear it. He’s trying to think of something, anything about how this car is worth more than a small house, about how many races it’s won, about how it’s been with him through every victory, every moment of his career.
But then he really looks at you. The straps of your sundress are slipping slightly off your shoulders, the fabric bunched up around your thighs, exposing more skin than should be legal, your breasts sitting perfectly, rising and falling with every heavy breath you take. Your lips are swollen, slick and pink from his kisses, your eyes glazed over.
Suddenly, Jungkook doesn’t give a shit about the car. Doesn’t care about the fine leather seats, the pristine dashboard, the million-dollar vehicle that built his career. Doesn’t care about anything but being inside you.
“Fuck it,” he breathes against your mouth, his voice hoarse. “You wanna fuck in this car? We’ll fuck in this car.”
Jungkook’s lips are hot, open-mouthed, trailing down your throat, the metal of his lip ring cool against your burning hot skin. “You look so good right now,” He moans wantonly, making no effort to hide behind his usual stone-cold appearance.
He pulls your tits free, the fabric of your dress pooling around your waist, leaving you exposed to the parking garage in his house (because, well… you two never even made it out of the driveway) and Jungkook loses his mind. See, the thing about sundresses, they’re deceivingly innocent. A little fabric, a little flowy, a whisper of fabric against the skin. But on you? On you, they’re a goddamn hazard. You don’t wear them like normal people do. No, you wear them around the house, barefoot, hair tossed up like you couldn’t be bothered, and, most egregiously, with nothing underneath. This is one of those times where he’s questioning where the fuck your underwear is.
His mouth is on you in an instant, lips closing around your nipple, tongue laving over the sensitive bud. His eyes meet yours as he shucks just hard enough to make you dig your nails into his scalp and beg for more. “Jungkook, ah—“
“You like that, baby?” He murmurs against your skin, his voice so cocky, so smug. He’s sucking his way across your chest to your other breast, making sure to devote just as much attention to it. He pulls off with a wet pop, his lips bright pink, his breath heavy.
You roll your hips slowly, dragging yourself against the throbbing bulge beneath his pants, every press of your soaked core against him. “Didn’t know my car turned you on so much,” He teases.
You have fully lost the ability to speak, no words exiting as you drag your clitoris against the rough fabric of his jeans. Anything, something, to feel some kind of stimulation and relief.
His hands fly to his belt, fumbling and pulling at the leather strap, the metal clinking loudly in the quiet of the car. His chest heaves as he yanks it free, all the while you giggle breathlessly, still rolling your hips against him, making it so much worse, but also making it so much better. “God, I cannot wait to be inside you,” He mutters, mostly to himself.
His jaw clenches as he finally manages to shove his pants down enough to free himself, his cock springing up, his tip red from how much he’s been holding back. “You’re really about to ride me in my fucking car?” He exhales, his pupils blown so dark that they swallow up every trace of color in his irises.
“What?” Your lips curve into a wicked little smile, tilting your head, mock innocence dripping from your voice. “You scared?”
That little act you have going on really does it for him. “Never, baby.” He grits out.
You lift yourself just slightly, aligning yourself with him, the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. The stretch is so intoxicating that you need to muffle your moans into the palm of your hand, mewling from the immense burn as you bury him deep inside you. His hands move down to the curve of your ass, his large hands leaving prints on your skin.
“Fuuuck,” His head falls back against the headrest of his seat, right against the Ferrari logo. “Why are you always so fucking tight?”
“Oh my god, Jungkook,” You nearly cry out, hands flying to his clothed chest to try and stabilize yourself. You lean down, pressing your bare tits against him, the space inside the car trickling with humidity.
Jungkook is watching you like a man possessed, gripping the soft flesh at your hips so tight it borders on bruising.
But, you don’t care. You don’t care about the way your head keeps bumping against the top of the roof, don’t care about the way your thighs burn, don’t care about anything except how good he feels inside you, how every little bounce sends shocks of pleasure up your spine.
“That’s it, baby,” he pants, “Riding me so good like you always do, yeah?”
“S-so good, Kook,” You gasp, the only sound in the car being your head repeatedly slamming against the roof you’re certain there’s a concussion in your future.
“Careful, baby,” he mocks, but his tone is shaky, uneven, “Gonna break my car if you keep hitting your head like that.”
You huff, frustration bubbling, but you won’t stop, not until you get what you need. “Don’t care,” You whimper, moving quicker, the wet sound of your juices coating his cock filling the small space, drowning out everything else.
Your hands cup his face, fingers threading through his damp hair, trying to kiss him, needing to taste him, but every time your lips get close, your consistent bouncing only allows for you to brush your lips against his. “Holy shit, you look so sexy right now,” He moans against your mouth. “You’re so perfect, so so so perfect.”
Your walls tighten around him because he means it. His words aren’t just filthy whispers in the void. They’re real, honest, it’s unfiltered adoration poured into you. “Can tell you’re close, baby. God, you look so hot when you cum.”
Jungkook nearly cums right then and there with how tightly your walls are clinging around him. He can tell you’re close, eyes nearly rolled back into your pretty little head. Usually, he’s good about holding out. Really good. He can last for ages, a result of all the fucking you two have been doing ever since you began dating and he realized his girl was nothing short of a freak. But something about how you struggle to hold his gaze, hips frantically moving up, down, in figure-eights, eyes fluttering shut, tits bouncing near his throat where he’s holding back a string of curse words… well, it’s fucking hot. He realizes he might cum before you, and his hand reaches down, finding your clit with ease and rubbing the bud with the pad of his thumb.
Your whole body jolts at the added intensity, the pleasure hitting like a freight train, thighs trembling violently“I, fuck, I can’t—I’m—”
You can’t even finish the sentence, your orgasm ripping through you so hard it almost hurts, your entire body convulsing as you scream his name. And you don’t even realize he’s finishing too, caught up in your own haze, until you feel a rush of warmth inside you as he finally spills into you.
The car reeks of sex, the windows fogged up. Your body just kinda.. collapses on top of him, heartbeats slamming against their respective ribcages. His arms stay lazily wrapped around you, fingers tracing nonsense patterns along your spine, cock slowly softening inside you.
“You know,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, his voice lazy, “I’m gonna have to spend a stupid amount of money getting this car deep-cleaned now.”
You groan against his chest, swatting weakly at his arm. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
He laughs, “I’m serious, baby. This is a million dollar car. Do you know how much of a pain it is to clean the upholstery?”
You lift your head, propping your chin on his chest to glare at him, “You’re literally a millionaire. You’ll survive.”
Jungkook hums, pretending to mull it over. “Yeah, but I’d rather spend my money on spoiling my girl, not on my car.”
You groan again, hiding your face in his warmth, and he chuckles, full and satisfied.
And yeah, maybe you did just ruin his precious racecar, but if the way he’s still holding onto you is anything to go by, you’re pretty certain he doesn’t mind.
Synopsis: You are finally meeting Jimin in person after months—but it doesn’t go entirely as planned
Pairing: Jimin x Reader // gaming au, long distance lovers au
Genre: Smut, a lil’ fluff
Word Count: 7.5k
Parts: 01 || 02 || 03
Includes: roadhead, oral, spanking, dom jimin, multiple orgasms, nipple play
A/N: happy!! holidays!! here’s the final installment, haha
The flight to Jimin’s city is stuffy, almost like a claustrophobic comfort within the confinement of the aircraft. Every minute that passes only fuels your excitement and anticipation; after all, the long awaited day has finally arrived.
You are finally meeting your boyfriend, Jimin, in person after many arduous months of skype sex and endless longing.
When the plane lands you scurry off as quickly as you can, bumping into a couple of passerbys to retrieve your luggage at the reclaim. Amidst frantically weaving your way through the crowd you slip out your phone, impatient to get cell service but once you do, you dial your boyfriend’s number. Though, he beats you to it.
“It’s nine in the morning, are you here yet?” he asks once you answer the call.
Your stomach flutters once you hear his welcoming voice, aware that he is equally excited as you are for this very moment. “It’s only a quarter before nine, and yes—” you grab onto your baggage from the conveyer— “I’m here!”
You push through the sea of people, apologies spilling from your lips for doing so, and reach the exit. Your head turns every which way in a desperate search for Jimin, unable to contain your exhilaration.
“I don’t see you!” you comment and walk closer to the edge of the sidewalk.
“Wait, you’re here already? I’m still driving.” He chuckles.
You smile to yourself, anticipation breaching. “This would have happened two months ago if you let me sleep that one night.”
“Hey!” He replies, defensive, “That means nothing. We both had the best orgasm of our life that night and—”
“—Jimin!” you snap him back to his senses. “Pay attention to the road.”
“I’m on speaker,” he informs; you can practically hear the quirk of his lips. “And close.”
You raise an eyebrow, eyes scanning the perimeter one last time. “Are you? Where?”
You wait a few seconds for him to respond, but there is nothing but silence on the other line. Bringing the device away from your face, you find your home screen, indicating that Jimin has ended the call.
Ready to fret, you feel a pair of gentle hands grasp your shoulders, swiveling you around. “Here,” he says, a bright smile gracing his face.
Your jaw drops to the ground, mind unable to comprehend that Jimin is standing right before you. This is not another picture you stare at on his social media, not another silly image he would text you — it is him in person, and you cannot fathom the fact that this day has arrived.
Before any words leave your mouth he wraps his arms around you, a prolonged embrace that took way too long to experience. You hug him back, head digging into his chest. You catch a whiff of his scent — a mixture of musk and honey perfectly swirling together.
“God,” you mumble, “finally.”
He gently pushes you back, gazing into your eyes for a brief moment before he presses his lips against your own. His lips are like two plump petals, providing a sensation that you have longed for so long. His hands remain fixated at your waist, grasp tightening while pulling you closer. He takes a breather before immersing himself even further with the paradise that is your body.
“I waited so long,” you mumble over his mouth.
You feel him smirk against your invitation and he pulls away, only to whisper, “So did I.”
“Which is why you should have let me sleep that night,” you jest.
His hand sails to intertwine with your own. “Well, you’re here now and that’s what matters.” He places a kiss on your nose. “Shall we go? Did you eat breakfast yet?”
You shake your head, letting him guide you to his car. “I ate a little, are you craving something to eat?”
“Um,” Jimin hesitates, gaze casting downwards to your crotch. He silently adores the way your body looks in shorts and a loose tee, but that is already limpid enough to your eyes. “Yes…” he trails off, implying something else.
“Oh my gosh.” You comment and roll your eyes, “I mean actual food.”
“Uh,” he pauses again, unsure. “Yes...?”
Jimin leads you to his vehicle, an onyx, lean sports car. Somehow it isn’t a surprise; he always tosses around cash into the game you and Jimin met on, decking his own character out with an array of skins and special features. You situate yourself on the passenger seat, fingertips dancing on your thighs.
“Where to?” you ask him as he starts up the engine.
He hums, thinking and beginning to drive. “Let’s see… what do you think is good?”
“I don’t know what’s good around here,” you tell him. “You’re the one who lives here.”
“Ah, right,” he chuckles, nervous. “I might know a place then.”
And so he turns into the second entrance to access a freeway. “How was your flight?” he asks.
“Boring, stuffy,” you tell him. “I was thinking about you the whole entire time.”
Jimin’s face tinges with coral hues, flattered by your words. An admirable smile blossoms on his face from your simple adulation. “Same,” he says, nodding his head.
“You know I still can’t believe this is happening.” You twiddle your thumbs over your thighs, gaze fleeting from him and the new set of scenery. “It’s strange hearing your voice in person, and seeing you. You’re taller than I thought.”
Jimin chuckles, feeling the exact same way. “Really? You’re just as gorgeous as you are in your pictures.”
“God,” you face the window, face flushing the deepest shade of roses, “I can’t believe you’re like this.”
Jimin laughs before starting up the car radio, tuning it as background music while he cracks a few jests here and there. The drive is lively, vivacious because of his constant pesters and complements.
Not so long after, Jimin takes an exit and remains silent until he reaches a stoplight. “There’s this really good restaurant near my house,” he informs. “And this light always takes the longest.”
His eyes watch the scarlet of the traffic light, waiting for it to become green as he impatiently taps the wheel. You lean over the center console to face him, sitting in silence until he directs his attention towards you. Jimin is pristine as ever: chiseled features and perfect contours, the sun kissing his skin to a flawless glow.
“Yes?” he asks, feeling your gaze bore into him.
You take notice of the way his eyes trail down to your chest, sight lingering at the low ‘v’ of your tee like an effortless tease. You lick the outline of your lips, that image still within his field of view, while staring at his own plump petals. Every fraction of your attention is directed towards him. You place your hand on his shoulder, inching a little closer to his body — until you see it.
Behind the nylon cloth of his shorts that shield his dick, his cock is hardening, bulge becoming prominent under the fabric.
Frankly, it makes you giggle, a rush of pride waving throughout your body.
Jimin shies away from your dark, amorous gaze and you move your palm to the nape of his neck. “You get turned on easily, have you noticed that, Jimin?” you tell him provocatively.
He shifts uncomfortably in the seat and bites his lip, refusing to lock eyes with you again — a sorry attempt for relieving his nerves. He feels his cock twitch in his shorts from your question alone, guilty from the truth of it and getting harder with every sweet word that leaves your mouth.
You lean in, closing a few more inches of the proximity. “I bet you want me to suck you off right now, don’t you?”
Jimin’s mouth parts for a few moments, the thought of you giving him road head making him almost insane. He clamps his mouth shut, refusing to say anything that can prompt your action.
“Do you?” you tease, other palm reaching over to feel his stiffness in the thin apparel. His breath hitches and he clenches his teeth, unable to focus on anything but your touch at the moment. “I think you do.”
All Jimin can bring himself to do is finally meeting fervid perceptions, immediately becoming enchanted by your gaze and alluring words alone.
You squeeze over his clothed length, hand sliding up and down slowly, ardently. “Baby?” you call.
“I-I do.” He nods his head, shameful.
“But you have to drive.” You push your bottom lip into a pout.
“Baby, I can’t wait,” he retaliates.
You hum, fingers wrapping at the waistband of his athletic shorts and tugging them lower. He raises himself in his seat a little until you shift the apparel to wrap at his mid-thighs. His cock springs against his lower abdomen quickly, almost as if it is thanking being free from the loose confinement of the shorts. His cock is larger in person compared to the pictures and video calls, more girth and all of a sudden you cannot help but crave a taste.
The light flickers green, resulting in Jimin cursing under his breath while he gently presses on the pedal. Nonetheless, you look at him with hungry eyes, locking gazes before you lower yourself onto his length. “Fuck, Y/N!” He slams his foot on the pedal from the sudden action and the car surges forward.
Your lips wrap firmly around his shaft, causing him to gain a death grip on the wheel with both of his hands. Jimin collects his composure and stabilizes the pace of the vehicle, trying to keep his attention on the road as his mind is drifting elsewhere.
Bobbing your head up and down, Jimin releases breathy groans and you find joy in his muted, lewd noises. You bring your mouth to the very tip of his cock to swipe your tongue over his leaking slit, the salty flavor kissing your taste buds. “Mm, baby,” he moans.
You swirl your tongue around his head a couple of times before diving your head back down this hardened cock until you reach the base, hollowing your cheeks out. You feel him twitch inside of your mouth; then, once ready, you swallow around his quivering member.
Jimin bends over a little, mouth dropping open to spill his moans that swirl along with dirty praises. The speed of the vehicle increases again; Jimin raises himself upright and leans into the backseat, attention fluctuating. “Shit,” he spits out. “Baby, fuck it. I-I’m going to take us home.”
You take your lips away from his dick with a pop, innocent eyes peering up at him through your lashes. “But what about breakfast?”
Jimin threads his fingers through your hair, gently urging you to continue. “That can wait,” he huffs. “Just… suck me off, baby, please.”
You look down at his hardened cock, realizing how stiff it is — how red is tinging the tip. “Hm, you sound so hot begging in real life.”
Jimin presses your head down, lowering your mouth over his desperate tip. The most you provide him as he prompts the action is with kitten licks.
He grips onto your hair, impatient. “You’ll be the one begging later if you keep on teasing me.”
You swallow back your words, bracing for Jimin’s length again. You put out your tongue and lick him from the base back up to the tip before taking him whole. One of your hands sail to rest on his thighs, keeping you steady while you proceed to suck him off. You feel Jimin’s hand stroke your hair amidst the pleasurable situation, prompting you to work faster, and so you do.
You are carried by the force of a sudden turn, the car coming to a quick halt and just when you are about to lift yourself to observe your surroundings, he robs you of your breath by pressing your head onto his cock. “W-wait,” he utters. “I’m almost there. We’re- agh- at my house r-right now. Keep going, please.”
Jimin yanks his keys out of the ignition and slumps in the seat, both hands now holding your locks as his eyes are shut while he engrosses the enlivening sensation. He starts to thrust up into your mouth, matching your pace while his cries pour from his lips.
You swallow around him again, a sharp pain chasing the feeling soon afterwards. You peer at him for a split second, loving the view of how his head is thrown back, exposed neck perfectly in view — all you want to do is mark him up, giving him the best parting present.
“Baby…” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “I-I’m going too—ah, fuck!”
With one final thrust back into your mouth he spills his load, allowing you to relish in his taste. You attempt to suck him dry, collecting bits of his cum in his mouth just so you can get off him with a pop, making sure he watches you swallow every bit.
And he does.
Your eyes are teary, lips wet and cum dripping from the outline. Your tongue chases the creamy pearls, catching the last of the salty taste as Jimin watches you with eager eyes. His chest is heaving, heavy breaths exchanging with his lungs as he tries to steady himself.
“Okay,” he pants. “That was good.”
You wipe your lips clean with the back of your hand, smiling at him.
“Want to go inside now?”
When you nod your head yes Jimin pulls up his shorts and slides open the car door, movements desultory as he trudges to the front door. You shadow his figure with your baggage, trailing him until he slips inside his house. The homely scent of coffee and vanilla kisses your senses, surprising you — especially from how tidy his house is. You would expect that from what you have seen in the video calls it would sort of be similar to a trash sty, sheets of dust on every bit of furniture; it is quite the opposite.
You slip off your shoes, leaving your bag by the door, and begin to wander his house, taking in the unfamiliar setting and comprehending the fact that it is all to yourself, and his, for the week. “Was your house always this neat?” you question while leaning on the counter.
Jimin creeps up behind you, tangling his arms with your body to pull your back to his chest. “I cleaned up. You think I would want you to see my house when it is dirty?” He laughs.
You hum, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I’m honestly quite surprised.”
“Do you always have low expectations for me?” he jests, nuzzling into your neck.
You turn around, facing his body and placing your hands on his chest as you press him closer to the wall. “Not really,” you reply.
Jimin grins down at you as you urge his back against the wall; within seconds, you crash your mouth over his, igniting another spark of arousing fervor within you. Jimin’s eyes flare wide at the sudden contact, pulling you in closer as you attempt to snake your hands under his tee. You rub your palms all over his chest, his toned body being heaven to the touch, and you then lower them to grasp on the waistband of his shorts.
“I’m still wet,” you whisper to the conch of his ear, excitement jolting your body.
Jimin tenses and swallows his breath, gawking at you from the corner of his eye. “Are you?” he questions. Jimin lowers his grasp to your ass, squeezing it softly.
“Yeah,” you confirm and rest your head on the crook of his neck.
As one of Jimin’s hands remains fixated on your crotch the other reaches to cup your heated mound, earning a sharp intake of breath from you. “I can see that,” Jimin whispers. “But you know what?”
He feels you smirk against his skin, indicating that you are ready. “What?” you ask, innocent.
You would expect that Jimin would strip you of your apparel in this very moment and lift you to his kitchen counter. God, how you want that. You would love for him to toss your legs over his shoulders, for him to have a strong grasp on your hips to hold you down as he dives into the pleasure that is your soaking core.
But he doesn’t.
You gasp from his hasty decision — not because he is giving you what you have been longing for, but due to him smacking your ass and pulling you away from him with a cocky expression sketching on his face.
“W-what are you doing?” you ask, grasp on his tee no longer.
Jimin is making his way off from you, leaning on his wall before turning into another room. “You made me wait another month and a half for you to arrive,” he says with a quirk of his lips, slightly diabolic. “You can wait a few hours for me.”
Your eyebrows raise at his statement, disbelief washing over your body in waftures. “You’re kidding,” you say as you follow him.
Jimin shrugs and takes a seat on his sofa, turning on the television. “No.” He laughs. “I also sort of want to see how badly you’d want me.”
“You asshole.” You roll your eyes and join him on the sofa, nuzzling into his chest. “Fine, I can wait.”
Jimin plants a kiss on your forehead. “I love you…?”
He pulls you closer into his chest while surfing past the channels. It takes a while with your distractions and constant pestering for him to finally remain on a single channel, a new movie running on it. The whole entire time as Jimin has his eyes glued to the flashing screen you are trying your best to gain his attention. Honestly, he finds amusement at how you are attempting to bombard him with affection, kisses on his skin while your arms only wrap compactly around his torso but every single attempt you create he nudges you away with a grin on his face.
A whole hour passes of the television being white noise to you; you still attempt to gain Jimin’s undivided attention. You release a groan. “I didn’t wait all this time to have this happen.”
Jimin turns his head to you with incredulity. “We have the rest of the day, and a whole entire week.”
“I sucked your dick in the car,” you bite back, petulant.
Jimin chuckles. “And I appreciate it.”
You push your bottom lip into a pout and keep your complaints lodged within your chest as Jimin diverts his awareness to the film. Everything goes by smoothly until he notices that the scene is leading up to: the two characters in the movie are engaging in a heated make out session, clothing slowly being stripped off by the second within the dim of the setting. Jimin turns his head away, nervous.
You glance at the movie, interest rallying within you and you tease Jimin about it. You place your hand over his flaccid length, giving him friction titillatingly. “What’s wrong?” you question. “Don’t want to get turned on again?”
You squeeze around his cock, feeling him grow hard under your touch. Jimin remains niche, biting his tongue to keep himself silent.
“I think you are,” you murmur.
With that, Jimin raises himself from his seat, body feeling heavy when he escapes your touch. He forces a nervous grin. “I’m not,” he declares, clammy palms rubbing together. “H-hey, let’s just go play a few rounds of the game,” he says to quickly switch bases.
You groan and turn off the television. “You clearly aren’t lasting,” you tell him. “Can we, uh, bang now?”
But Jimin ignores your statement as he feigns contentment. “You brought your laptop, right?” he disregards your question.
“Um,” you turn your head to your baggage. “Yeah, are you serious?”
“G-great!” he stammers. “Come on, let’s go in my room.”
Wordlessly, you grab onto your laptop and gear and begin to shadow him into his room. You hesitate at the door frame once he opens the entrance to it, the scent of his cologne excessively strong. It is larger than it appears in pictures — more tidy as well. Observing the room you can pinpoint all of the specific places you have seen throughout the duration of virtual communication. His desk is as neat as he claims, bed always half-made because he lazes out easily. Though, there is that one pile of clothes in the corner that he never bothers to touch.
“You can sit on my bed,” he tells you. “I’ll just be on my desk creating the server.”
“Okay.” You become situated on the soft of his bed, positioning your laptop on a stack of his pillows as you start up the device. You watch as he types messages to his friends, letting them know that he is getting online — possibly with you.
It takes a few minutes for everything to start up, patience running dry but it finally happens. Great, maybe a few rounds of the game can be a distraction from Jimin. Jimin places on his headset, positioning the mic to his mouth and speaks a few words when he enters the server. “Hello,” he says, unsure. “Can you guys hear me?”
You place your headset on and laugh. “I can,” you respond.
“Whoa, who is that?” asks an unfamiliar voice, gruff and low. Your eyes peer on his screen and back to yours, an unknown character jumping in your character’s perception.
“Excuse me,” you respond, bitterness artificial when you read his in game name: Goldenkook.
“Isn’t it obvious,” chimes in another man, identifying as Yoongi. “That’s Jimin’s cyber girlfriend.”
“The one who wrecked our guild, the ‘Penetration Station’?” Jungkook asks.
“Blame Taehyung for that.” Jimin’s face flushes. “Can we just get started?”
You chuckle from their mini quarrel, finding merriment from the situation. Within seconds the first round commences, the sound of machinery firing and his friends yelling at each other exchanging — sometimes becoming rebarbative to your ears.
Between the time period of when you first met Jimin to now, it is safe to say that you improved greatly on the game. In fact if it wasn’t for the accidental entry into their private server you wouldn’t be by Jimin’s side to this day — plus, it sort of dragged you guys together. What started off as an irksome way to get you to not tarnish their guild name sprouted into raw enjoyment of each other’s company, and it didn’t take long for the admirable sentiment to fall into place afterwards.
You really do enjoy going wild on the game; though, it is in times like these where it is completely unwanted by you. Because every fraction of Jimin is immersed in the game and he would always put you off at times.
And in this case — your case — it is entirely unpleasant.
You attempt to distract yourself with a few rounds while it lasts, but nothing can turn you away from the fact that your long-distance boyfriend is at such a close proximity from you yet he still chooses a mere game over his carnal desires.
You do not realize how much time has passed until his room starts to darken him the setting sun, brightness of the world morphing into a softer glow.
And that is when you finally take initiative.
Placing your laptop on the ground along with your removed gear you amble to his desk, arm snaking on his shoulder. “Jimin.” You complain, desperate, “It has been hours…”
Jimin inches away from you, laughing at a joke that one of his friends have said as he gains another killer on the first person shooter.
You groan, tangling your arms around him to tug his body closer. “Jimin,” you coo.
“Give me a second, Y/N.” He types a couple of commands on his keyboard and you let go of him with a pout.
“Fine,” you huff and take a seat on his lap. “I’ll just… wait.”
“Babe, I can’t see,” he tells you, head trying to find its way back to the tiny screen.
You sigh and move out of the way, fixing yourself right on his lap — close to his crotch. Your eyes do not avert from his groin for a few moments; your mouth waters from the sight, desperation firing within you. You wait patiently, watching him score some more kills on the game for tens of minutes; that is, until you reach your limit.
“Baby,” you call, leaning into his neck. “I really want you right now.”
“Mhm,” Jimin brushes off, teeth clenching.
You cup his cheek, tilting his head to face you as his character responds. “I want you to fuck me so hard, so bad, now.”
You watch the way Jimin’s adam’s apple bobs up and down from your words, a diminutive small sign that your rousing words are starting to provoke him for your betterment.
“Please?” you ask, angelic. You slowly grind on his thigh to pleasure yourself — it is the least you can do if your boyfriend refuses to cooperate. Jimin’s body freezes, eyes staring off into space as you prompt the insatiable scene with zeal. “Mm, baby.”
Your wetness leaks onto the nylon of his shorts and your palm reaches lower to his dick, ready to jack him off through the fabric.
But Jimin stops you. He looks at you for a split second, enough time for you to catch the dark lust that hazes his eyes. He yanks off his headphones and tosses it on the desk, leaving the game dormant so he can take care of you. “God,” he mumbles and grabs a hold of your body, scooting the chair away from the desk. He positions your body prone over his thighs, giving him the first-class view of your ass. Then, he swats it with more force than earlier. “You’re so fucking needy, you know that?”
You tilt your head to look at him, struggling as he holds you in his grasp. You try to reach for him with your free arm but he latches onto your wrist, pressing it to your lower back. He slaps your ass once again. “J-Jimin,” you utter.
“You really couldn’t have waited just a few more minutes,” he spits out.
He keeps spanking your ass, each one with more force as if he is genuinely frustrated. Though, you feel his erection begin to form against your stomach. “N-no,” you mumble. “I’m sorry,” you say with a shy smile, indulging in the attention.
“That’s how badly you wanted my dick?” he questions, an eyebrow cocking upwards.
Jimin tugs your pants down, just below the curve of your ass to land a harder swat. “Yes,” you respond softly. It took long enough, but you are finally getting what you want — his attention and your cravings met.
Jimin chortles, delighted with your response. He runs his index finger to your core, spreading the wetness before he propels his finger inside of your hole without much warning. You moan from the sudden contact, breath quickening. Focusing on the pleasure he is providing you, he slides in another finger and twists it inside of you with every thrust.
“Fuck…” you moan, shutting your eyes.
Jimin smiles, savoring the sound he has waited so long to hear in person. He slides in another finger as if you earned it by crying out for him, curling the digits up perfectly and hitting your sweet spot. His digits are heavily coating with your succulence, aiding him by creating a smoother motion that satisfies you entirely.
“Jimin,” you tense up under his touch. “I-I, fuck…” You find it difficult to remain still in his grip, your stomach feeling tighter as he continues his flawless momentum.
“What’s wrong?” he asks and slides his fingers out, earning a whimper from you. “Do you need to cum? Is that what you have been wanting the entire day?”
You flutter your eyes open. “Yes… please, baby.”
“You’ll have to ask—beg for it.” He raises you back up, only to guide you to the bed with care. When you position yourself back onto his mattress he tugs your pants and undergarment down all the way, tossing the article elsewhere. He joins you on his bed, tongue licking the outline of his lip as he prepares himself for the main course.
“Jimin…” you trail off, barely able to focus your vision on him.
He grabs your legs and tosses them over his shoulders, pulling your heat closer to the plump petals of his lips. He kisses your inner thigh first, sucking on the tender skin and leaving a muted mark. “Yes, baby?” he asks.
You rest your head onto the pillow. “I-I need your mouth… please.”
“Do you?” He kisses your thigh again.
“Yes,” you close your eyes, waiting for him to begin, “baby, please.”
The last thing you hear is a dull chuckle emitting from Jimin’s mouth. Before you have any room to beg for him again he provides you with what you want. He presses his tongue on your core, dragging it up and down before swirling the muscle around your aching clit. He relishes in your taste — the sweetness of your juices — and practically digs for more. His tongue works its magic on your heat, the remarkable action luring your release quicker than you imagined.
He moans against your heat, vibrations providing you with an outlandish feeling of bliss, and you try to press your thighs together. Jimin smacks your thigh to have you undo the action, his tongue swirling over your pleasure central powerfully. He uses that same hand to slide in two fingers back into your hole, maintaining the action of sucking onto your clit.
Your breaths become unsteady, mind unwinding into a jumble of mixed sensations that are being sent and felt. Your hand rakes through his tousled locks to tug them, notioning him of your release.
Jimin takes your clit in between his lips and rubs it together, gently tugging on it before he swirls his tongue around the bud with voracity. He curls his digits with every thrust again, moments shifting to a higher intensity. You feel a fresh heat erupt within your body, sweat beginning to accumulate on your forehead the more times breathy moans spill from your lips.
And when he pours the most of his longing to taste you, channeling it into instigating motions, you cum — you experience the most intense orgasm and it waves throughout your entire body.
Your body feels lighter, eyes clamping shut as your mouth is agape. You grind against his mouth, his tongue still graciously out to collect and lap up your juices. As your back is arched you release an extended moan of his name, a symphony to his ears before you crash onto his mattress, regaining your composure.
“Fuck,” you pant. “Jimin, that was good.”
Jimin sits up and swallows one last time before taking a deep breath, wiping the dripping succulence from his chin. You peer at him past your lashes, taking a mental picture of his glistening chin and lips — how he is still licking what is left of you on his face to savor the flavor.
He starts to crawl to you, hesitating when he is midway. Along with this he strips you off your tee and removes your bra, leaving you absolutely bare in front of him. He commits the same action to himself, ridding himself of the pesky material and revealing his chest. God, how perfect he looks. If you are not so tired you would touch him, pull him close, and show him just as much love as he did to you.
He props his arms on either side of your exhausted physique, staring at your chest as a million thoughts run through his mind, each one being coarse, lustful. He peppers you with kisses on your chest before sucking in a mark, a dark purple print on your breast — and he continues to do so. Mark after mark, each one being fired with his impure thoughts and wanting, your whole body practically transformed into his canvas of red and violet hues.
And when he finishes off the last one he moves one of his hands to your chest, groping it while the other has its nipple being taken into his mouth. The sound of him sucks onto your erecting buds stands on equal par to music to his ears, and his generous massage on your breast is more than lush. He moves it in circular motions, prompting your mind to be sent into another delirium from the sensation.
Every time you are under his touch is feels exquisite, rich, and you cannot help but love the delectation you feel when he plays with your breasts — toys with your nipples. “Jimin,” you groan. “F-fuck.”
Jimin takes one of the nipples in his thumb and index finger, rolling it around slowly and applying the perfect amount of pressure. He mimics the same action with his teeth on the other, sucking onto it as well while his other hand pinches your bud. His hand sails to the end of the curve of your breast, playing around with the core.
A familiar warmth blossoms in your core again, your arousal beginning to leak from such exquisite actions. A whimper leaves the parting of your mouth at the same time Jimin takes your whole bud with care. He groans and lifts his head up, sitting lightly on your hips to allow his other hand to join in on the fun. His thumb swipes over the wet surface of your nipple, rolling over the sensitivity.
You whine when he pinches them harder, and he follows with another circular massage that makes you throw your head back into the lush of his pillows. His slow movements are deliberate, pushing you to the edge. Jimin fixes his position and places his knee in between your two legs, gracing you with the opportunity to thrill another release.
Despite being sensitive, you cannot help but grind onto his thigh. You attempt to steady your breathing — attempt to have control — but it all goes downhill with his miniature movements. You roll yourself on and off his hard muscle, groaning with your sensitivity blossoms pain swirling with raw pleasure.
“Jimin,” you whisper. “This is too- ah!”
He shortens your plea with a courteous grasp over your two valleys, tight and graceful at the same time. Jimin then flexes his thigh, giving you more ground to urge your edge. You grind harder, faster on his thigh — the much needed friction already drawing you a step closer to the repeated state of thrill.
Within seconds, you are sent over the moon. You spill yourself onto your boyfriend, his name falling from your lips almost endlessly — a perfect rhapsody to his ears. Bliss pulses through your veins, a fuzzy feeling chasing quickly afterwards as your mind is clouded with extreme elation. Your eyes are clamped shut; his movements wither to desultory actions as he finishes off the lovely knead of your breasts.
Jimin reaches over to kiss you languorously until your mind returns from its frenzy, his palm cupping your cheek with care. “That was good,” you murmur.
“Was?” Jimin repeats. “I’m not done yet,” he says with an airy laugh.
You flutter your eyes open, gawking at him as you regain your breath properly. “What?”
Jimin lifts himself up and discards his lower apparel, providing you with the full show of his hardened dick and how it smacks against his lower abdomen. Fuck, its not only red at the tip, but it appears as if the angry hues are seeping down to the base; how long did he prolong his urges for this moment?
“I…” he trails off, “still want to be inside of you.” He kisses your neck, sucking another love bite to add on with the rest. “I want to feel you tighten around me—want to cum because of you again.”
“Baby,” you whisper.
“Don’t you want me to fuck you?” he asks, breath mingling over your sweaty skin. He lowers his voice, tone provocatively seductive. “Just like you asked…”
His palm sails from your neck down your torso, and he stops right above your core.
“Just like you…” he presses softly onto your clit with his middle finger, “begged.”
You remain silent at his words — at your own suggestion — and you are crossed for whether or not you can fight past the pain for another intense burst of pleasure. You heavily exchange the air with your lungs, taking in the moment. “Fine,” you spit out.
“Fine?” he repeats, mirroring your unsure tone. “It doesn’t seem like you still want it.”
Jimin grabs onto your hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. “No,” you correct. “I-I do…”
You avert your gaze from his, eyeing out the window as a miniature distraction. You take another deep breath as if you are just leaving a state of rest and brace yourself for the third and final round. Jimin grins. “Is that it?”
You press your lips into a tight line. “P-please,” you fix. “Jimin—” you kiss the corner of his mouth and gently grab onto the nape of his neck— “please fuck me.”
“Of course, baby.”
You expect Jimin to act tenderly, considerate after the two acute rounds that he has put you through, but from the looks of his quivering member, cock aching with nothing but severe lust and desire, it is foolish to think that way. Jimin gets a tough grip on your hips and soars back, flipping you to a prone position in one fluid action. Your chest hits the soft mattress, cushioning the impact, and Jimin smacks your ass, ordering for you to get up.
He positions himself steady, knees digging into the luxuriant blankets and mattress as he awaits for you to get into place. You prop yourself up on your elbows, remaining on your hands and knees and Jimin runs two fingers up your womanhood. Your fresh juices coat his digits, especially before he propels them inside of you, twisting two times before popping them out.
You look back at him, wondering why the sudden stop of prurient activity has ceased; but, you find a sight that is far more impure.
As if Jimin has been waiting for you to glance at him, he sticks his digits that are glistening with your arousal into his mouth, tongue swirling around them to catch every ounce of the taste like honey to him. With dark eyes and disheveled hair, his bare chest visible — him being ready to fuck you senseless — it is a perfect mental picture to take.
You feel a surfeit amount of your arousal leak from your entrance, a signal for him to get started — a sign to display how needy you are for this moment.
Jimin takes his fingers out of his mouth with a pop and gains a grasp around your hips, his wet fingers cold to the touch on your unclothed skin. He rubs his scarlet-tinged dick against your womanhood a few times, your juices leaking onto his cock and glazing it generously.
“Ah,” Jimin groans. “You’re so fucking wet. You’re dripping.”
You chuckle, wiggling your ass a bit to give him the notion to begin. “It’s all for you, baby.”
“Fuck.” He throws his head back and pumps himself a couple of times prior to aligning his solid dick with your hole.
He could feel your warmth emit from you; then, he slips past your glistening folds and into you. God, you are so damn wet.
Jimin fills you up completely, hands grasping onto your hips for dear life as the sensation is already overbearing. Your hands twist into his sheets, the sharp pain rising up to your stomach. He begins to thrust into you, not slowly but hard and quickly as he keeps you upright. Within a heartbeat, the pain morphs onto a sting of pleasure.
“Fuck,” he utters. “You feel so- agh- good, baby...”
He maintains the momentum for a good while, slamming into you incredibly hard and so painfully quick. His hand swats your ass and continues to do so whilst guiding your hips on and off his cock. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed within his room and it does not take long for your moans to chase the peak of its volume.
Jimin’s sweat begins to drip down his temples, focus into creating each other’s release. Your lewd noises only fans his flame of libidinous desires; and of course, it is the final key.
Jimin is practically on his own excursion to cum, mind a mess as he channels out the last of his sanity into his frantic movements. He sails his palm to your clit, rubbing tight circles onto the nub to time your release with his own.
Then, like a gargantuan wave, both of your orgasms dawn upon each other. Jimin proceeds to thrust in and out of you a few times while holding back, movements messy and unorganized until he slips out of you to bust on your back. You groan, the warm contact of his cum satisfying. Jimin’s eyes clamp shut as he tries to draw what is left of his mind to focus on the raw pleasure. He uses one of his hands to jerk himself off, getting the last of his release out and splattering it on your skin.
Your face digs into the pillow, muffling your screams for him as you feel every fraction of your being become undone. It feels as if the dazed state of jubilancy overtakes your body in the most rapturous way, replacing the pain in your body with delight and satisfaction after the arduous session.
Your body falls straight onto the mattress and soon Jimin passes right next to you, both trying to regain each other’s breath. Amidst the quietude of the room, the only sound that can be heard is the heavy panting of each other as both minds calm from their transportation into a seventh heaven.
When the silence passes, state or normality regained, Jimin releases a fit of laughter. He turns his body to face you, grabbing onto your hand and placing a gentle kiss on it. “How was it?” he questions with a wink.
You turn your body to look at him properly, tired eyes with dried tears of joy gawking at him with admiration. “Worth the wait,” you whisper.
He places a kiss on your lips and strokes your hair, the pad of his index finger trailing down your jawline to tilt your chin more proportionally to him. “I love you.” He smiles.
“I love you too.” You nuzzle into his chest, providing yourself with a few moments of thought. “So, is this what I’m going to get every time I disturb your gaming time?”
“My wha—oh, shit.” His eyes widen when he realizes something: he never left the gaming server. As if the sexual activity did not happen Jimin lunges out of the bed and slips from your hold, landing on the chair to check his progress in the game. Shit, how many times did his character die?
He roams the safe spot of the map and tosses on his headset, ready to talk to his buddies until he gets cut off by one of them. “Is Jimin finally back?” asks Jungkook who brings his character into his field of view.
“I think so,” adds Yoongi.
Jimin bites his lip. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Finally,” Jungkook spits out. “Did you have fun?”
“Uh,” Jimin pauses and looks at you, “what?”
Jungkook groans, exasperated. “You sounded like you had a great time.”
“What do you mea—”
“—your girlfriend sounds hot,” Yoongi interrupts. “Fuck, where can I find someone like that?”
Jimin’s eyes are flaring, eyebrows crossing together and you sit yourself up on his bed, waiting patiently for him to return. “What are you guys talking about?” Jimin asks.
Jungkook sighs. “Jimin,” he says, disappointed. “Next time, mute your microphone before having sex with your girlfriend. The whole fucking server heard that shit.”
Jimin hangs his head in shame and you question what happened. When he tells you all you respond with is a fit of shameless laughter, disbelief and finding amusement from the moment. “Well.” You jest, “Guess we can keep that in mind for next time.”
“Oh?” Jimin raises an eyebrow. “So there’s going to be a ‘next time’?”
You watch as he disconnects from the server, removing his headset along the way to join you on the bed. You pull him closer and place a kiss on his lips. “Of course there’s going to be a next time.”
Jimin gulps. “N-now?”
You hum, making it appear as if you are considering the thought. “No—tomorrow.” You add with a quirk of your lips; a slight tease, “Maybe.”
