YOU ALL MUST SOB WITH ME

YOU ALL MUST SOB WITH ME

everybody loves somebody | pjm (m)

pairing: jimin x fem!reader

summary: In a world where there’s a chance for you to contract a deadly disease the specific moment you come to the realization that the person closest to your heart will always be out of your reach, you find yourself coughing up blood stained flower petals after your best friend – and fuck buddy – Park Jimin, tells you he’s been seeing someone.

genre: angst ; smut ; unrequited love

warnings: explicit sexual content, fwb, hanahaki disease, heavy angst (and im talking HEAVY), unrequited love, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mentions of injury, arguing, vomiting, gagging, mentions of cheating, oral sex (f. rec), unprotected sex (stay safe!), creampie, excessive drinking, some suicidal thoughts, passing out, hurt no comfort, surgery, medical procedures, physical pain, sad ending, minors DNI

category: one-shot

wordcount: 11.7k

a/n: ahhh!!! im excited, ive had this idea for about a year and i’m happy it’s finally here ! im pretty sure this is the angstiest thing ive ever written so read at ur own risk lmao 😭😭 ;; i’ve tweaked the hanahaki disease a bit, in this universe you contract it the moment you realize the person you have feelings for (whether you’re aware of those feelings or not) is unattainable in a romantic sense. do keep that in mind <33 & the flowers arent random, theyre the birth flower of the person ur in love with. enjoy 🫶🏽

— m.list & concept video

The pharmacist places 2 boxes on the counter in front of you, absentmindedly explaining what each of the products inside are used for but you aren’t paying much attention to what she’s saying. The thought of your aching foot is all you can really think about right now, hoping you won’t accidentally put too much weight on it.

You sprained your ankle at work earlier today and it hurts like a bitch. You softly sigh as you lean onto your crutch, wishing for the elderly lady to finish talking so you can pay and head home.

With your phone now vibrating in your coat’s pocket, you finally have something interesting to pay attention to. Your free hand dives into the pocket on your hip and you pull out your phone, your eyes squinting when the phone screen lights up with a new notified text message.

[5:49PM]

from: My idiot

I’m right around the corner, see you in a bit

You smile at your phone as you read the new text from your best friend, the urge to just snatch the boxes off the counter and pay the lady is growing by the second. Luckily, the lady notices you seem in a hurry and puts the boxes into a plastic bag as she waits for your payment.

You give her an apologetic smile as you slide your phone back into your pocket and take out your wallet, struggling to get your card out but you eventually do and quickly press it against the payment terminal. The payment goes through without you needing to give in your code and you slide your card back into your wallet.

You thank the lady quietly before taking the bag and slowly walking out of the building, looking around to see if your friend’s car is in view.

You spot his car slowing down in front of you, watching as the car comes to a halt. He gets out and jogs to your side, his black hair bouncing. He keeps telling you to ‘take it easy’ as he takes the bag from you and helps you into the passenger’s seat. You glance at his outfit, knowing he has just clocked out from work.

He’s wearing a buttoned shirt that he hadn’t buttoned up all the way so you could see the silver necklace clinging around his neck. Black jeans hugged his amazing thighs, in which his shirt was tucked into paired with black ankle boots. He jogs around the front of the car and hops behind the steering wheel, kissing your forehead as he always does when he greets you and whenever you part ways.

You smile and thank him quietly, buckling your seatbelt as he buckles his own and starts driving the familiar way to your home. The smell of food enters your nostrils and you look over your shoulder to notice a plastic bag probably full of takeout food he picked up on the way to you placed in the backseat.

You feel like the luckiest person to have someone as thoughtful and considerate as him in your life, you hadn’t even asked him for it. You never had to ask him for anything. He bought some just in case you hadn’t eaten.

You could’ve very well already eaten but then he’d say something along the lines of ‘eat it tomorrow then’ or ‘have some more’. He’s such a worrywart but your heart bursts every time he does something for you because you love how much attention he pays to you.

The song playing on the radio is some sappy love song that you don’t pay attention to but it reminds you of the text you just got from him for some reason.

“I told you not to text and drive,” you sigh, slapping his knee as you lean back into your seat, referring to when he texted you that he was around the corner. He sends a glance your way before he starts the car and starts driving, a shit-eating grin forming on his lips.

“I’m serious, Jimin,” you whine annoyingly, snatching the phone that was between his thighs and placing it in the cupholder next to the gear shift. He chuckles quietly and rubs your knee in return, mumbling a quick worthless promise about how he won’t do it again.

The rest of the ride to your home is quiet but comfortable, the both of you just humming along to the music on his radio. Soon you reach your block and the motion of Jimin parking his car makes you unbuckle your seatbelt. When the car completely stops, you open the door but he immediately jumps out and almost runs to your side to help you out.

“I sprained my ankle, I didn’t give birth.” The joke makes him shake his head in disagreement, dismissing your playfulness about the situation as he hands you the crutch and takes the bag of pharmaceutical products as he helps you out of the car. After making sure you’re stable, he swings open the door to his backseat and reaches for the bag of food. He gives you a couple ‘be careful’s and ‘watch out’s as he helps you onto the steps of the entrance to your apartment.

He uses the emergency key to your residence he got from you because he doesn’t want to make you look for yours. You roll your eyes as you walk into your lobby, hearing him press the button on his car keys and locking his car from a distance as he enters the lobby after you. He closes the door and helps you into the elevator, pressing the seventh floor button and leans against the elevator wall, his eyes now staring into yours.

“How long do you get to stay home before you have to go back to work?” he asks you, his free hand gripping the metal handrails against the wall on his right side.

“Three weeks,” you sigh in content, happy you finally get a break from work for the first time in the year you’ve worked there, your first job fresh out of university. He drops his head in jealousy, shaking his head. He runs his hand through his black hair and lifts his head again, making eye contact with you again.

“I don’t mean to call you lucky for being in pain…but you’re lucky,” he jokes, making you chuckle at his words and watch the little screen in the elevator that tells you which floor you’re on, realizing you’ve arrived at the seventh. He steps out first and holds his hand against the sliding doors of the elevator, making sure it doesn’t shut on you as you limp out.

You finally arrive at your front door and insert your key into the keyhole before he can, muttering a quiet statement about being able to handle yourself. He pretends he doesn’t hear you and just pushes the door open when you unlock it, letting you in first before entering and kicking his shoes off.

Without even needing to be asked, he places the bags on the small table by your entrance and drops to one knee to help you out of your shoes, making sure to be careful with your injured foot. He places your shoes neatly by the door and helps you take off your coat, hanging it up on your coat rack.

He grabs the bags and walks into the living room, placing them on the dining table. He finds his way into the kitchen and comes back out with utensils, plates and cups. You limp to the dining table and sit in your usual seat and watch as he sets the table quickly, a small smile sitting on your lips. It’s almost…nostalgic.

You and Jimin go way back, your first meeting was on the first day of sophomore year in high school. He had just moved from the big city to your small, beloved hometown. Back then you weren’t exactly the best of friends but after sharing classes everyday throughout high school, seeing the only familiar face in university is the true reason why you two grew so close. Always hanging out, looking out for each other, caring for each other. He was one of your best friends, and still is to this day.

It inevitably reminds you of the first time you had sex with him. And the time after that. And the time after that. And after that time. And after that.

However, nothing romantic ever happened between you two. Neither of you were interested in that, not with each other. At least, that’s what you thought.

You don’t like to call him your ‘fuck buddy’ or ‘friends with benefits’, generally because you just didn’t like those terms, not to describe him of all people. You feel like it undermines the bond you two share.

He’s just…your best friend. That takes care of you and helps you when you need it. That you take care of and help when he needs it. That you sometimes have mind blowing sex with – that was it. You just know in your heart, you could always and forever count on him and vice versa.

You have a lovely dinner with him, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. After feeling like you had been sitting there for 30 minutes, your eyes trail to the clock and you realize 2 hours have already passed. You slowly rise to your feet and start piling the dirty dishes on top of each other – but not for long as Jimin reaches forward and slaps your hand away.

“Ow!” you shriek, “what the hell?” You look down at the man who just smacked your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles with your other hand. He has a stern look on his face, his eyes widening – telling you to sit the hell back down while he takes over, gathering the dishes and used napkins.

“You do know I’ll have to do this by myself when you’re not around, right?” Annoyance is present in your voice, your eyes watching him sternly as he simply shrugs.

“What makes you think I’m not going to be here everyday for the next three weeks?” he hums as he walks into your kitchen without listening to what you have to say about that. You hear him turning on the tap water and loading your dishwasher.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head as you wipe down whatever mess you two had made with one of the left over napkins. You throw the dirty napkin with the mess on the table into the bag he brought the food in, waiting for him to return.

It doesn’t take long for him to walk back into the room, he takes the bag off the table and throws it in the bin before returning to your side and helping you out of your seat. You could do all of these things by yourself and even though you pretend you’re annoyed – deep down you enjoy his proximity and concern.

He assists you to your bedroom, letting you sit down on your bed. Your eyes follow him as he’s in search mode, looking for comfortable pyjamas you can wear. He knows the way around your room like the back of his hand – explanations not needed. (Read: he’s been in your bedroom almost everyday since you started living here 3 years ago.)

After he places the neatly folded clothes on top of your dresser, he walks up to you and hands you your makeup removal wipes as he tugs on your shirt.

“Jimin! I can do this myself,” you groan for the nth time today but he doesn’t listen as usual. However this time he taps your lips once slightly to shut you up as he raises your shirt over your head. His eyebrows raise and his bottom lip sticks out when he notices you’re wearing his favorite bra, an apologetic look on his face as he gently places your shirt on your bed.

“I wish I could destroy you,” he mumbles quietly with a pout on his lips.

“You know we can still fuck, right? I’m just not doing anything that involves me putting my weight on my foot.” Your fingers rub circles into your eye with the makeup wipe in an attempt to remove your eyeliner and mascara – but the growing grin on his lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh? Like what?” he purrs.

“Well,” you say, trying to think of sexual positions you can’t do with an injured foot. “Basically only missionary.”

He begins to unbutton his shirt but his phone vibrates, so he continues with one hand as he takes his phone out of his pocket and looks down at his phone. You can’t tell what it is but his face shifts, something you can only assume is because of whoever just texted him. He reads whatever it is he was notified of and quickly types a response, throwing his locked phone somewhere on your bed.

By that time, you’ve finished wiping off your makeup and you place the used wipe on your nightstand. Jimin is standing in between your legs, just staring down at you as he unbuttons his shirt. He rubs your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, inserting the tip of his thumb into your mouth.

You slowly close your mouth around his thumb, the tip of your tongue circling the tip of his finger without breaking eye contact. You move to unbuckle his belt but he stops you by grabbing your wrists, his fingers wrapped around them tightly.

He shakes his head, making you relax your fingers. “No. Tonight I’m spoiling you.”

He drops your hands and you let him gently push you back onto your back. He helps you lay down, making sure your head is comfortably on your pillows. He carefully helps you out of your pants, throwing it somewhere on the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He lays on his hip horizontally on the bed, placing his hands on the back of your knees and gently holds your legs back, being wary of your injured foot.

He starts by placing gentle kisses through the thin fabric of your panties before helping you out of your panties as well. He throws them off the bed, holding your legs back again. When you don’t feel anything for a few moments, you look down at Jimin in between your thighs. He’s just staring at your sex, insecurity seeping into your stomach.

“Is something wrong?” you ask him, trying to suppress the concern in your voice.

“No, just admiring what a pretty pussy you have and how I should do this more often.” He licks a stripe up your slit and begins circling your clitoris with his tongue. You hiss slightly, running a hand through his hair and gently tug at it.

He looks up at you — you can’t even see the smirk on his face but you can definitely feel it against your skin.

He pulls away to spit on your pussy, using his fingers to spread his saliva all around, making your hips jolt. He starts sucking on your clit with so much fervor that you can already feel your stomach clenching.

“If you keep doing that, I will–” You don’t even finish your sentence because Jimin has plunged 2 of his fingers into you, massaging your inner walls whilst sucking on your pulsating clit.

He rotates his fingers so he can curl them, a smirk on his lips as he uses his other hand to press you down and stop you from bucking your hips up into his face. He continues the torturous assault on your g-spot, enough to send you over the edge.

Your entire body clenches as the sensation of pure pleasure and bliss spreads through every single one of your nerve endings. Pathetic moans spill from your lips and white spots take over your vision as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You cry out his name with a thrust of your hips, grinding into his face as you orgasm. Your hands tightly grip his hair as he keeps sucking on your clit, your legs uncontrollably jolting under him. You’re on the verge of sobbing as Jimin keeps going, his torture never ending and your legs fall limp as your orgasm comes to an end.

“Already? You must’ve been really horny,” he chuckles as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. You glare at him with a scowl on your face and he just throws a wink your way.

He gets onto his knees against your mattress and unbuckles his belt. He tugs his pants and boxers down his legs, his erection slapping against his stomach in the process as he hurriedly kicks the remaining clothing off the bed. He crawls back over to you, wrapping his hand around the back of your knee and slowly spreads your thighs again.

He positions himself at your sex, glancing up at you as if asking for permission. After you finally catch your breath, your gaze shifts to his and you realize he’s waiting for your confirmation. He impatiently slaps his dick against your pussy, urging you to give him permission. You bite your lip and nod at him, your hands gripping onto the sheets on either side of your hips.

You don’t think any longer about it as he slides into you, placing his hands on the back of your knees again and gently pushing them back, still wary of your injury. He begins to thrust slowly, gently and delicately rolling his hips against yours. You don’t think you have ever had sex with him this sensual, except for maybe the night you let him take your virginity.

A pathetic moan spills from your lips, your eyes dropping down to where you’re connected and watching how he slides in and out of you so gently yet so passionately. It feels weird. In a good way.

Whenever you two fucked – which was at least 3-4 times a week – it was usually pretty kinky and on the rough side.

This just felt like…love making. But you quickly shut that thought out because you know Jimin is just trying to be thoughtful of your injury.

He motions for you to hold the back of your knees and you do. You idly watch as he places his hands on your mattress, on each side of your waist. Your eyes watch as he lowers his head and gently sucks on your right breast, his tongue circling your nipple. Your head sinks into the pillows, pressing your cranium deeper into the pillows as lewd moans escape your pretty lips.

Jimin grins against your skin when he hears you moan for him, his thrusts slightly picking up the pace as he raises himself back up to face you. He moves up, placing his hands on your pillows, on each side of your head. His chain dangles in front of your face, a sight that always drives you crazy.

Soft moans spill from his lips too, his eyes boring into yours as he bottoms out. Your mouth falls open at how full you feel and Jimin’s consistency never falters as he continues to thrust into you, the pace not fast but not slow either. Just perfect.

“I’m…going to cum soon,” he warns, spreading his legs further apart to support your thighs so neither of you have to hold them back. This allows you to reach for the back of his head and you pull him close to press your foreheads together, giving you both the ability to watch him slide in and out of you.

“Cum inside,” you quietly moan, eyes still on where you’re connected. The command takes Jimin by surprise, his hips stuttering for a moment. What made you break your own rules?

The rules both of you agreed on is that you would have raw sex with only each other and protected with other people, but no cumming inside. Yes, you are on birth control but it was too much of a hassle to clean up.

“Are you– are you sure?” he asks you, lifting his forehead slightly off yours to be able to read you better, his thrusts returning to the perfect pace.

“What? Are you scared? I said put a fucking baby in me before I change my mind,” you grunt as you let go of his hair, pressing your head back into your pillow and you never break eye contact with him. He knows it’s just a figure of speech but the choice of words drives him fucking crazy.

Your pretty eyes, your dilated pupils, your furrowed eyebrows, your slightly parted lips and the soft moans leaving your lips make him act before thinking.

Before you realize what he’s about to do, Jimin leans down and presses his lips softly against yours. For him to do that is so rare, so very rare, specifically in an intimate situation like this. You have kissed each other before but it was usually rough and sweaty and heavy and horny and used to get ready or in the mood to have sex.

However in this moment you don’t only not mind, you enjoy it. Maybe a bit too much. Maybe somewhere even hoping for it to happen.

Your heart pounds in your chest, you want to pull him even closer. The taste of him drives you crazy and you want more. More of him.

But now his thrusts were getting a bit rougher, his lips still on top of yours, his tongue licking into your mouth. If he notices your hand reaching down and rubbing your clit furiously in an attempt to orgasm together, he doesn’t comment in it but he does speed up the pace of his hips.

He moans into your mouth as his hips stutter and warm ropes of his cum shoot into you, his thrusts getting sloppy. But he keeps going nonetheless, his moans turning into groans and grunts as you clench around him.

Exhaustedly, he keeps thrusting to help you reach your climax as well, luckily it doesn’t take long after for you to cum, his lips never leaving yours. Your second climax hits you like a ton of bricks, gushy sounds and slapping noises get quieter as the both of you come to a full stop.

You get why people say to not let someone kiss you whilst they’re in missionary, especially when they’re cumming inside of you. Because it really did make you think that maybe one baby isn’t so bad.

He kisses you long after both of you orgasm, after he’d stopped fucking into you. Your hands are on his face as you kiss back with equal fervor. His soft lips on yours feel like you’re literally being kissed by clouds, his naked body still on top of you makes you feel like you’re being caressed by angels.

As if a pile of bricks drops on him, he pulls away abruptly without looking at you. He immediately drops his head into the crook of your neck and stays inside of you, feeling some of his load leak out of you but neither of you really care. At this moment you feel strange. That climax was just – strange. The best you ever had – but strange.

Probably the best either of you ever had.

You’re reminded of what you told him in the heat of the moment and the kiss. The kiss.

You know Jimin well.

You know damn well he’s staying like this, hiding his face in the crook of your neck because he knows how awkward this is now, avoiding your gaze, avoiding your questions, avoiding everything.

But are you in any position to question him? You were into the moment just as much as he was. Hell, you might’ve liked it even more than he did.

It doesn’t last too long before he pushes himself back up and pulls out slowly, reaching for the used makeup wipe on your nighstand to wipe some of the leaked cum from your mattress and quietly hops off of you.

“I uh–” he starts, “I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbles, placing a box of wet wipes on your nightstand before he hops off your bed and quietly enters the bathroom. You hear the water running and for a moment, you don’t really do anything. You stare at the ceiling.

What the hell was that?

•••

You haven’t seen Jimin since that weird night. You have never felt this strange about the sex you two had. Whatever the hell happened, it couldn’t be the end of whatever you had, right?

Spoiler alert – it was, in a way.

Because here Jimin stands, a week after no speaking – the longest you’ve gone without talking – in your living room, fidgeting with his sweatshirt.

“I– uh…want to talk about why I left so suddenly.” He looks at the floor, avoiding your gaze. You’re seated on the couch and usually he’d sit by you, rub your feet, play with your hair, anything. This time he stands there in front of you, nervously avoiding your gaze.

“It’s okay, Jimin, really,” you chuckle, trying to brush it off because it genuinely isn’t a big deal. The thing that bothered you about it wasn’t the act itself, it was the no texts – no calls combo for a week after. You aren’t just one of his hoes. You’re his friend. His best friend.

He shakes his head, “No,” he pauses, “No, it’s not – I’ve been seeing someone.”

Oh.

Oh.

Mind racing. Mouth empty.

Who?

When?

Why?

No, not why. Both of you have always supported each other in your romantic relationships and respected it. That meant obviously no sex and less hanging out.

Instantly, you’re reminded of that night. The way he looked at his phone when he got that text…seemed off. It makes sense now. Leaving so suddenly. No texting. No calling. No randomly showing up in your home, using the key you gave him.

You wonder what it was that made you feel weird about that night, before knowing he was seeing someone.

Was it the fact that you allowed him to ejaculate inside of you for the first time? Maybe it was the intimate way Jimin had kissed you. Like mentioned before, obviously the two of you had kissed before but usually it was after a night out and the both of you were drunk and horny and it was rough and sexual and needy and hot and heavy and loud and it always led to sex. You had never just gently kissed each other, not in that way.

The pieces finally start falling into place. He left in a hurry that night because he felt guilty. To that person, to you, to himself. It wasn’t fair to anyone.

“Is that why you just shut me out for an entire week after…” you pause, realizing that night will now forever be an awkward topic for the both of you to talk about, “…that night?” you finish, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“I’m sorry. I know our communication has been impeccable since the start and we always sort stuff out but…it was different this time. It is different this time,” he slowly takes a seat across from you, folding his leg and placing his right foot on top of his left knee.

“Y/N, I really like them and it’s serious,” he says, a serious expression on his face as he finally makes eye contact with you for the first time. For whatever reason there’s a sharp sting in your chest, the words taking you by surprise. He anxiously waits for your response but nothing comes out. You’re just…staring at him.

“Please, say something,” he pleads, he can’t stand the silence. Not from you. Even if Jimin is falling in love with someone else, he can’t imagine ever living the rest of his life without you. Maybe that isn’t fair to his partner but you are too important to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you blurt out. You didn’t mean to make it sound like you are hurt, but you fail at hiding it. You actually are.

He takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes, letting all of it out in a deep sigh. He knew the question was coming and he knows you deserve the truth.

“I was planning to, I promise – but things kept getting in the way. Then you sprained your ankle and when I helped you undress and saw what you were wearing and…I just–” he keeps stuttering, a slight tremble present in his voice. “I felt like telling you in the moment would’ve ruined it.”

“In other words, you saw me wearing something I wore for you and felt bad about what? Rejecting me? Is that what that was? Pity sex?” you question, your cheeks starting to heat up and your eyes staring at him in disbelief. His eyes widen at your assumption, shaking his head quickly as he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hand in his.

“No, no! Not at all, you know that!” he claims desperately, his eyes still wide in hope you’d believe him but you just feel…humiliated.

“How long have you been seeing them?” you cut him off, staring at your hands in his hold. You can sense the hesitation, his eyebrows twitching at the question. You know him, he’s trying to look for a way to be careful with his words after what just happened.

“…About two months.”

The feeling of nausea makes you rise to your feet immediately after those words leave his mouth, his eyes following your face as you get up.

“Get the fuck out.” You point towards your front door, keeping eye contact with him. He immediately gets up, his eyes wide with confusion and concern. At this point it isn’t even the revelation that makes you want him to leave, it’s the unbearable feeling of your chest being on fire.

“Wait–”

“You kept fucking me while you were taken?” you snap at him, pushing him back towards your front door by roughly pushing against his chest. You can tell he wants to stop you, grab you by the wrists, defend himself, but he also knows you’re right, it’s unacceptable. You’re reminded of all the times he had fucked you into his mattress, into your mattress, these past two months.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was selfish and took advantage of the situation,” he whimpers as he owns up to it, his back now against your front door. “But it hadn’t been that serious in the beginning and I just now realiz–”

“Why the fuck did you kiss me like that?” you hiss at him and a quick, sharp cough follows your words.

“I–I was caught up in the moment and I thought it was going to be our last time toget–”

“Wait a second–” you cut him off, the look of realization taking over your face. “Did you imagine or pretend that I was them?” you ask, accusatory. You watch as he starts quickly shaking his head in panic, his eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed.

“What the fuck? No. I would never do that, Y/N, what the fuck do you take me for?” he snaps right back, his cheeks reddening and his irises slightly shaking as his gaze jumps from your left eye to your right consistently. You can tell that by his reaction, he’s being sincere. Your assumption is way out of line, especially with how well and how long you’ve known him.

Another cough irritates your throat and you start to feel insanely nauseous. As soon as you’ve made it to the front door, you quickly open it with one hand as your other hand shields your mouth. You notice the concern in his eyes but before he can ask anything, you let go of the door handle and hold out your hand to him.

“Give me back my keys. There’s no need for you to have them if you’re dating someone,” you tell him, your voice coming out muffled because of your mouth being covered by your hand, another few coughs escaping your throat. You hold your other hand out to him.

He takes a breath to start protesting but notices the seriousness in your eyes, the look of defeat immediately plastered on his face. He shoves his hand into his pocket and places the cold, metal key in your palm.

He slowly backs out of your apartment, his hand running through his hair, a habit he’s had ever since you’ve known him. He keeps eye contact with you which allows you to notice the tears pooling in his eyes but you don’t care at the moment. Right now, you feel nauseous, shocked, disgusted, pained. You want to throw up your guts.

You slam the door shut in his face but there is no more time for you to make it into the bathroom. You feel something coming up your esophagus, already coming up the back of your throat. You immediately fall to your knees, coughing some more into your hand.

Cough.

Cough.

Gag.

Cough.

Gag.

Until you notice something sitting on your tongue.

You slowly lower your hand from your mouth, taking a look at your palm to notice it covered in saliva and blood. Your eyes shoot open at the sight, a frown on your eyebrows. You have never coughed up blood before. But the shock doesn’t stay for long because you remember something else is still inside of your mouth.

You slowly open your mouth, pushing your index finger and thumb inside until they meet whatever it is sitting on top of your tongue. You squeeze it in between the pads of your fingers and slowly pull it out, your eyes following your fingers as they do.

It’s small and white, as thin as a leaf. Then it dawns on you.

A flower petal, but not just any flower petal.

A petal of the Bridal Wreath Spirea flower.

Jimin’s birth flower.

•••

Days have passed and you haven’t seen or heard from Jimin, your condition has been getting worse. Days have turned into weeks. Weeks have turned into months. Violent coughs would erupt from your throat, always leaving your hands covered in sticky saliva and blood with a scent of nectar that was left by the flowers growing in your lungs.

You have already visited multiple doctors and they all say the same thing: get the disease surgically removed. You have your doubts obviously, since they have also made you aware about the new procedure.

Apparently with the original surgery, only your romantic feelings for that person would be removed in the process but this procedure has been discontinued for 10 years already, since some victims would develop romantic feelings again for the same person or another person which makes a second surgery extremely dangerous.

That is why the new procedure completely removes your ability to ever love again.

To live but to never love.

It’s why you’ve been scared shitless to agree to the surgery. Never loving anyone again? Is that really a life anyone would ever want?

You haven’t told anyone yet. Of course you haven’t, you’re terrified. The thought of something growing in your lungs that will eventually suffocate and kill you is a scary thought for anyone. Perhaps the scariest of all is the one fact that you had been ignoring all this time.

Being in love with your best friend, Park Jimin.

You still can’t believe this is where your life was headed. Dying? Over that piece of shit?

You shake your head, shutting out your own thoughts. Jimin isn’t a piece of shit. The opposite actually, you have never met anyone like Jimin. You had never even thought of someone being on this earth like Jimin.

He’s caring, genuinely. Compassionate. Considerate. Kind. Sensitive. He truly is one of a kind. And if that’s the norm, perhaps you are praising the bare minimum.

Like the time he raced for 3 hours to come pick you up from the airport after you’d been harassed on your trip. Or whenever he drove past your place and saw your lights off, he’d pick up food and drive to your workplace. Or whenever you weren’t at your best, he could tell and insisted on taking care of you. He noticed every single detail about you. Observed you every chance he got. It’s almost like he had a sixth sense.

He has been texting you since that fight but you haven’t replied, haven’t called him back and have avoided him like the plague.

You honestly don’t know if you’re ever going to tell him about it. Just because you know Jimin, and you know his heart. He’d never forgive himself for being the ‘cause’ of your pain, your suffering, your death. He would much rather take the burden on himself, he would much rather die.

The fact that it took Jimin falling in love with someone else for you to realize you had felt this way pisses you off. You could have avoided this. You could have made your move on Jimin, you could have started distancing yourself from him a long time ago. Anything to avoid this.

But guilt bubbles in your stomach. You know him, you know he's concerned, sick to his stomach. You owe him. He deserves to know you’re okay – even though you’re quite literally not.

•••

You find yourself at his doorstep, nervously fidgeting. You shift your weight from one foot to another as you gently knock at his door. It’s 11:19PM. You’re lucky he’s a light sleeper. You are out of your mind for even showing up right now, but the longer you stay away from him, envisioning him loving another person, the worse the coughing and vomiting becomes. And it’s been months since you’ve seen him.

The sound of the keys rattling against the other side of the door snaps you back into reality, your eyes blinking quickly as your gaze is now focused on the door handle turning.

As the door opens, you see the silhouette of the man who’s going to be the death of you – literally. One of his eyes is closed, the other is half closed and his lips puffy. His hair is messy and one of his hands is under his shirt, scratching his chest. His eyes shoot open at the sight of you, the door swinging open in the process.

“Y/N,” he breathes, sounding relieved to see you standing in front of him. You see him moving to take a step towards you, to hug you, to hold you. Until he noticeably stops himself, hesitant to walk any closer. You nervously rub the back of your arm and look to the side, wanting the ground to just swallow you whole.

“You uh– you want to come in?” he asks you, opening the door wider to make enough room for you to walk through but a frown sits on his brows as you shake your head at his offer.

“No, I…I don’t want…” Your gaze drops to the floor by his feet, noticing the unfamiliar pair of shoes by the doormat and another key bunch on top of the accent table by the door. “…To intrude,” you say, quietly. He notices your realization and swallows, scratching the back of his head.

“I’m just here to tell you something,” you sigh, a lump forming in your throat. You can’t tell whether it is from the anxiety or if it is another petal, but you swallow hard in an attempt to get rid of it.

“Tell me.” He steps out and closes the door behind him, making you instinctively take a step back. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants after rubbing the sleep out of his eyes to take a better look at you. After he does, that’s when he clearly sees how bad you look. You have lost weight, dark circles sit around your eyes, your skin is crude.

“Wow! What the fuck happened to you?” he gasps as he steps forwards, his hands reaching out to your cheeks and cupping them despite you stepping back. He firmly holds your face and stares at it intently, his eyes roaming all over your features.

Your heart jumps at his proximity, at his touch. The moment his skin touches yours, the burning in your chest disappears. His concerned eyes are searching yours as you blink up at him, his soft thumbs rubbing your cheeks. You swallow back the cry threatening to spill from your mouth.

You had wished he wouldn’t notice your state but it’s Jimin. He knows when you haven’t slept well, he knows when the barista gets your order wrong, he knows when you’re about to cry when watching a movie. Let alone the fact that you’re dying.

Right.

You’re dying.

You reach up to his wrists, gently tugging his hands off your face and dropping them by his sides.

“I’m going to tell you something and I want you to stay calm, okay?”

You honestly don’t know why you’re telling him at this point. Do you want him to feel bad for you? To be concerned? To give you attention like he used to?

You want to tell him because you don’t want him to wake up one day to hear you have passed away, right? You don’t want him to blame himself for not being able to take care of you. Yeah. You’re sure it’s that.

Maybe those things can coexist.

“Y/N, you’re scaring the shit out of me. Are you dying or something?” he humorlessly jokes, trying to make light of the situation in hopes this conversation stops being eerie and somewhat disturbing.

You look at him with guilt in your eyes, your lips parting because your mind is telling you to answer him and confirm his suspicions but your body isn’t listening. Your heart isn’t.

You notice the instant fear in his eyes, his breath getting hitched in the back of his throat. He slightly shakes his head, his hand reaching out to you but your body stops him before you can even think about it, a firm hand pressed up against his chest to stop him in his tracks.

“No, you damn idiot,” you lie.

You lied.

You lied.

You lied.

You lied.

You lied.

Why did you lie?

“I just– I came to tell you that I also met someone and I uh…want us to mend our broken friendship. I should also apologize for ignoring your attempts to fix our problems.” Your mouth blurts these words out before you can stop yourself.

He raises his eyebrows and a smile stretches across his face before he pulls you into a big hug, your face buried in his chest. You inhale his scent, your eyes prickling with tears. Being held by him stops the pain, it really does. The sensation of having flowers bloom in your lungs suddenly subsides when he touches you, when you smell him, when you’re with him.

He sways with you from side to side, kissing the top of your head and stroking your back soothingly, but your arms stay limp by your side. He takes a deep breath before he whispers, “If you ever need anything, just let me know. You know I’d die for you, Y/N.”

And it hurts. It hurts a lot.

“But wait–” he pauses, pushing you back by your shoulders slightly, “why would I have to be calm about that? It makes me super happy to know that I won’t have to worry about you anymore because I trust you and your gut, and I’m sure you chose the right person to take care of you like you deserve.”

Cough.

Cough.

Cough.

Cough.

“Are you okay? Do you need some water?” he asks you, concern in his tone as he gently pats your back.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You shake your head. “It’s late. I’m going home, you should go back to sleep. I’ll talk to you later, alright?” You quickly brush him off and wave at him as you walk down the hall, into the elevator and disappearing before he can say anything else.

•••

You don’t know how long it’s been since that night in front of Jimin’s front door. Days? Weeks? Months? You had filled your work in on why you aren’t in any shape to come to work and thankfully they were happy to grant you time off.

The only thing you know, is you are on the verge of life and death. You don’t know what to do. Your condition is worsening and there’s nothing you can do about it. You could die at any given moment at this point and the thought of it is terrifying.

After contemplating the biggest dilemma of your life yet, you have officially decided to agree to the surgery.

You don’t want to think too much about it and risk backing out but you’ve pretty much made up your mind.

However, that’s not the dilemma.

It’s telling Jimin the truth or not that is the dilemma. Your biggest dilemma.

Should you tell him that you’ve got the disease? Should you tell him you’ve decided on getting it surgically removed? Should you tell him that it’s because of your feelings for him? He’d undoubtedly ask you that. He’d also encourage you to get the surgery.

You don’t want to worry him.

Would you worry him, though? You haven’t spoken to him in quite some time.

Of course he’d be worried. Jimin didn’t spend al those years proving to you that you’re his soulmate for you to wonder if he’d care about the fact that you’re actually dying.

But the surgery gives you the opportunity to never tell him. How would he ever know? He wouldn’t unless you explicitly tell him. There’s no need to worry him if you decide to get the surgery, he’d never have to know.

•••

You mindlessly scroll through your Instagram feed, eyes scanning the images and captions. You comment on a few of your friend’s posts, you check out your favorite celebrities’ new stories. Right when you think you’ve had enough, your curiosity gets the better of you and you find yourself looking up Jimin’s instagram handle.

Your heart skips a beat as a collage of him and his new partner fills your screen. You tap on the newest one, a picture of their laughter frozen in a moment captured at the edge of a small cliff. Both of them wore athletic attire, their bodies clinging to each other. It’s a scene of happiness, a stark contrast to the void that now consumes your own heart.

There’s a purple circle around his profile picture, letting you know he’s posted stories today. You know you shouldn’t watch it but your thumb taps on the icon before you can stop yourself. The sound of Jimin’s laughter rings in your ears as the video plays. It shows him and his new partner, immersed in joy and adventure at what appears to be an aquarium. Your heart clenches at the sight. You love aquariums. Jimin had always taken you to them whenever your dates turned out to be disappointing, whenever you had a shit day, whenever you wanted to go.

The burning in your chest intensifies, a constant reminder of the void that now occupies your own life. With a heavy sigh, you rise from your seat on the couch, a desperate longing for escape leading you to your cupboard. You rummage through it, searching for any trace of alcohol that could dull the ache in your heart.

As you take massive swigs of the alcohol, your drinking grows excessive. You prefer the burning in your throat from the alcohol compared to the burning in your chest from Jimin’s growing birth flower.

The drinking is a futile attempt to forget the image of Jimin and his new partner that had etched itself into your mind, burned into your brains and branded into the back of your eyelids. Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision, yet the image of them together persists, haunting you even when you close your eyes.

Loud sobs escape you, echoing through the empty room as the alcohol begins to take its toll. The stinging in your lungs gets intense, your mind still clouded with Jimin’s happy face and then it begins. The violent coughing fit overtakes you.

You double over as gags and coughs tear through your already burning throat, until you can’t contain it any longer. The view before you blurs through your tears as you vomit all over your kitchen floor, the acidic mixture mingling with blood and flower petals, symbols of the shattered fragments of your heart.

You sob uncontrollably on your knees as you’re hunched over, blood and saliva still decorating the corners of your mouth. You press your hand into your chest where your heart is located and cry, the torturous burning in your chest never subsiding.

It intensifies whenever you think of Jimin and you wish, oh how you wish you could just completely forget about him. What if you’d never approached him that day back in uni? Starting conversation about how he seemed familiar and him telling you that you went to highschool together? Getting fucked into his mattress a month later?

You continue to sob as the memories that are burned into your brain keep playing on a continuous loop, straight up mocking you.

Breathing is getting painful. Your hands are shaking. Your forehead is covered in sweat. You’re surrounded by blood, vomit and pretty white flower petals.

Everything fucking hurts.

That’s all you remember before completely blacking out, sprawled in your own vomit on your kitchen floor tiles.

•••

Your phone buzzes next to your passed out body.

[11:34PM]

My idiot

Missed call (1)

[11:36PM]

My idiot

I miss you. Up for dinner tomorrow?

You stir, body aching as you slowly regain consciousness. Memories of the previous night flood back and you wince at the realization of what had transpired. Sobbing, drinking, vomiting – a pathetic attempt to escape your pain. Your nose scrunches up at the stench of vomit mixed with alcohol and nectar from the petals.

With a heavy sigh, you remain still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as your thoughts swirl within you. The weight of your choices weigh heavily on your conscience, adding to the physical soreness that’s spread throughout your body.

You finally push yourself up from the floor, your movements sluggish and labored. Every muscle protests against the exertion, a reminder of the toll your emotional turmoil had taken on your physical well-being.

Reaching for your phone to check the time, which is 3:03AM, a pang of anxiety shoots through you as you notice the notifications waiting for your attention. Jimin’s contact name plastered on your phone has your stomach twisting with a mixture of emotions.

You contemplate for awhile before you unlock your phone and start typing out a message. You try to type out several responses, each one quickly deleted the moment you’ve typed them out.

– yeah sure

– i would love to :)

– sorry i can’t

– i miss you too

– i need you

– you fucking ruined me

– fuck you

– please come back to me

– i love you

You groan loudly and decide to just ignore him like you have the past several months. It never gets any easier. You lock your phone, setting it aside for the time being.

You lazily shuffle your way towards the bathroom, determined to find solace in the refreshing embrace of a shower. The warm water trickles down your body, offering relief from the ache that radiates through your bones.

Clad in fresh clothes, you make your way to the kitchen, your steps a touch unsteady. The sight of the aftermath from the previous night’s chaos greets you and you sigh heavily. Cleaning up the remnants of your despair has become a depressing task, the bloody flower petals mockingly laid out before you.

With each wipe of a cloth and each item placed back in its proper place, a small sense of guilt burns in your chest. You’re not sure why. Or to who. Jimin? His relationship? Yourself?

You blink your tears away as you continue cleaning up your kitchen, ignoring the burning in your chest and the lump threatening to bubble up the back of your throat.

•••

“I’m in love with you. It’s always been you.”

“What? Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“Because I was scared.”

“So, you think it’s a good idea to tell me on the day of my wedding?”

You groan as you watch the two actors dramatically yell at each other in the sappy romcom playing on your TV. You roll over on your couch, fingers lazily reaching for the remote on the other end.

Oh, right. It’s been about a month since you’ve had the surgery.

You drown yourself in romantic movies and TV shows before you have to return to work in a few days, so you can feel normal again but you feel nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You don’t even enjoy the way your feet touch the cold tiles on a hot day, how the first sip of coffee tastes, eating your favorite meal.

You feel nothing.

If there’s anything you feel, it’s like a zombie. You don’t even feel human anymore and you realized directly after the surgery that you regret ever agreeing to it.

If you could turn back time, you would have just suffocated to death. Let your best friend’s beautiful birth flower bloom inside your lungs and slowly kill you, squeeze out every bit of oxygen you have left.

Because living like this isn’t the way. It isn’t living at all.

You sigh as you raise the remote, muting the TV with a single button and rise to your feet. You rub your eyes as you head into the kitchen to heat up yesterday’s leftovers. Your eyes idly watch the white container of Chinese food spin on the microwave plate and your ears are filled with the humming sound of the microwave.

You’re snapped back into reality when you hear heavy pounding on your front door. A frown makes it’s way onto your brow as you glance at the clock in your kitchen, 10:33PM. You aren’t expecting anyone.

You walk up to your door, wary of whoever is behind it. “Who’s there?” you call out, hand on the door handle.

“Open the fucking door, Y/N.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Are you dreaming?

You’d recognize your best friend’s voice anywhere. Sweat collects on your palms, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. The pounding continues and you realize you are in fact, not dreaming.

He sounds pissed. You haven’t spoken to him in a while, why could he be mad? Maybe specifically because you haven’t been talking to him.

You inhale deeply as you unlock your front door and try to peek your head around it but Jimin has other plans. He pushes the door further open and forces his way into your home, his arms roughly wrapping around you instantly.

You stumble back from the impact, your arms still limp by your side. His scent fills your nostrils, vanilla and a hint of wood and musk.

You’re surprised by the sudden intimacy but you don’t feel anything else. The man you loved, almost died for, is hugging you and you feel nothing like you did before. No pounding heart, no racing thoughts, no butterflies. Nothing.

You still appreciate his company as his best friend, of course. His proximity quickly makes you realize you’d still die for him, no matter what.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The moment he says these words, your heartbeat stutters for a second. His heartbreaking tone of voice knocks the air out of your lungs. You gulp, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but you stay silent, not daring to speak up but you know you have to. “Tell you what?”

“Don’t.” He shakes his head as he pulls back, his hands tightly gripping your upper arms as he stares at you. His eyes are red and puffy, his nose glistening and it’s clear he’s been crying.

“How did you find out?” you quietly ask him.

Jimin’s eyes bore into yours as he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he reveals the truth. “I bumped into your manager at a bar,” he confesses, voice tinged with guilt. “He told me about the illness and surgery, and I came straight down here.” He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, his fingers trembling slightly. “Are you okay? Have you healed?”

You nod in response, but the sight of Jimin standing before you is a stark reminder of the pain you had endured. The sight of him makes the scar on your chest burn uncomfortably. You shift uneasily, attempting to conceal the discomfort that coursed through your bones.

Jimin’s eyes searched yours, seeking answers to the questions that burn within him. “Who was it?” he presses, his tone laced with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Your voice goes quiet, barely above a whisper, as you respond, “Who was what?”

His brows furrowed, frustration mingling with his concern. He steps closer, his hand gently cupping your face as he pleads with you to be honest. “The other person,” he clarifies, his gaze unwavering. “I just want to know who is stupid enough to not see you and cherish you like you deserve. And maybe have a little chat with them.”

Your silence speaks volumes, lips pressed together as you struggle to find the right words, the right way to tell him. You idly blink at him, eyes brimming with unshed tears, heart on the verge of breaking all over again. A pathetic cry threatens to spill from your throat, your inner conflict making it hard to even form a coherent sentence.

You muster the courage to meet his gaze as you gently tug his hands down from your face, needing the space to breathe, to collect your thoughts. “Jimin,” you whisper, pleading with him to just let it go whilst simultaneously answering his question.

Jimin’s voice cracks with vulnerability as he calls out to you, a plea laced within the syllables of your name. “Y/N.”

The longing in his eyes is matched by the frustration etched on his features. His eyes tell you that he can’t understand why you won’t confide in him, share your burden with him. “Why won’t you just tell me?”

“Why do you think?” You stare at him with a blank expression but you’re betrayed by the quiver in your lips once you literally see the gears in his head start to work.

The room falls into an eerie silence as the weight of realization settles heavily upon him. Your gaze drops down to look at the tremor in his hands as he slowly shakes his head, as if trying to deny the truth that had just been revealed to him.

He looks absolutely broken, causing your own emotions threatening to consume you as tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t help but drop your gaze to the floor. You reach up and rub your own arms absentmindedly, trying to find comfort in the familiar gesture.

The distress in Jimin’s voice stings, it does. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, shaking his head in disbelief as his words escape in a pained whisper. “No. Tell me that’s not true.”

The only confirmation you’re giving him are your sniffles and lack of eye contact.

His eyes widen, the initial shock wearing off and the actual realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. He takes a step backward, his back hitting the wall opposite of you as he struggles to comprehend the magnitude of what he had just learned. “Fuck, I…” he pauses, “I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice filled with anguish. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Confusion settles on your face once the apology leaves his lips. You knew this was going to happen if he ever found out.

You reach out and gently grasp his hand, “Why are you apologizing?” you ask, already knowing the answer to your own question.

Jimin’s face crumples as tears well up in his eyes, his voice shaking, “Fuck!” he yells, “I’m so stupid. I should have been there for you,” he chokes out, “You were… suffering on your own? All alone? Because of me?”

When he asks you this, you’re inevitably reminded of all the times you cried from the pain so hard that you passed out, all alone. The thought of Jimin suffering hurts enough as is, you understand why he’s so freaked out.

Your heart is being squeezed by his words, your own tears falling freely now. You take a step closer, holding his hand up to your heart. “Hey,” you whisper, “we are not going to do that, okay? None of this is your fault. It’s no one’s fault. I chose to avoid you, remember? Not the other way around.”

Jimin lets out a shuddering breath, his gaze locked with yours. He reaches up, using the back of his other hand to wipe away his tears, a soft sniffle from him makes you squeeze his hand. And then, in a moment of overwhelming vulnerability, he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, desperate to hold onto the connection that had faded between you two over the past few months.

As Jimin holds you tightly, his sobs ring in your ears as his body trembles in your arms. You swear you can hear your own heart breaking at the hurt in Jimin’s cry, his body clinging to yours. A quiet sob comes up the back of your throat as you squeeze him, tears staining your cheeks.

“You endured all that pain alone,” he cries, his breathing inconsistent from the violent sobs leaving his body. You internally shame yourself for ever doubting Jimin’s love for you. He loves you. Just not in the way that would have saved you.

His words extract an ugly cry from you, the memories of you suffering playing on a loop in your head. “I was in so much pain,” you whimper, finally allowing yourself to be heard.

Soon, your cries subside, leaving behind a heavy silence.

As you pull away from him, you gently lead Jimin to the nearby couch, guiding him to sit beside you. Your hands remain tightly intertwined, your thumb gently caressing the skin of his knuckles.

With a deep sigh, he breaks the silence. “Was the surgery painful?” he asks, his puffy eyes searching yours.

You can’t help but offer a faint smile at his question, his worrywart tendencies making an appearance again. You’ve missed it. “Healing was a bitch,” you admit, “But other than that, physically, I feel okay.”

Jimin’s shoulders sag in relief. “That's good to hear,” he murmurs, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. And then, his voice grows softer, “What about mentally, Y/N? How are you holding up?”

You blink at your hand in his, eyes reflecting a whirlwind of emotions. You take a moment to gather your thoughts before responding. “Honestly?”

He nods slowly, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but a genuine desire to understand on his face.

You rub your forehead with your other hand, a gesture of weariness and internal struggle. You finally meet his gaze. “I regret getting the surgery,” you confess, words cutting through the air like a double-edged sword. “I would rather be dead than live like this.”

Shock and anger mingles on Jimin’s face, his brows furrowing as he processes your words. “Y/N!” he exclaims, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and frustration. You understand him, though. He had just sobbed for a good 5 minutes at the thought of you dying, and here you sit, telling him you would’ve preferred that outcome.

You shake your head, eyes reflecting the weight of your pain. “You don’t know what it’s like, Jimin,” you mumble, voice heavy with the burden you forced yourself to carry alone.

His expression shifts from confusion and anger to concern and understanding as he processes your words. He tightens his grip on your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the skin of your knuckles. “I understand I might never fully comprehend what you went and are going through, but I promise everything will be okay,” he reassures you, gentle yet resolute.

You shake your head, “How can everything be okay if I’ll never love again?” Your voice pathetically quivers with vulnerability and despair.

Jimin’s thumb continues its gentle motion, his touch a grounding force in your fragile moment. “Don’t be pessimistic,” he implores softly, his eyes searching yours with unwavering determination. “You will find someone. I know you will. You’re the most loveable person I know.”

There’s a stinging in your chest again when you realize that there is something else you need to confess, something he still doesn’t know. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for his reaction. “Jimin,” you begin, voice quiet yet steady. “The new procedure.”

Confusion climbs its way onto his face, his brows furrowing. “What? What do you mean, new procedure?”

You exhale the breath you’d been holding, your fingers reaching for your phone. With swift motions, you pull up the relevant information and present it to him, eyes locked on his face, waiting for him to read and understand.

Jimin’s gaze drops to the screen, his face softly illuminated by the light of your phone. His eyes rapidly scan the words with growing intensity. As he absorbs the information, a frown climbs onto his features and he looks up at you, his expression still confused. “So... the old procedure only removes the romantic feelings you have for that specific person,” he murmurs, recalling everything he just read. “But the new procedure removes your ability to love altogether?”

You can only bring yourself to nod in confirmation. Jimin’s voice wavers with a disbelief as he questions the existence of such a procedure. “Why is that even a thing?” he mumbles in disapproval.

Your eyes meet his, “Apparently, there were cases where people who had undergone the original surgery would fall into a one-sided love again, whether with the same person or someone else,” you explain, voice laced with a hint of bitterness. “And that makes a second surgery extremely dangerous, so they don’t perform it anymore.”

Realization slowly settles upon Jimin’s features as the weight of the situation becomes clear to him. He clears his throat, his voice faltering slightly as he attempts to articulate his thoughts. “Wait, so…” he begins, his voice trailing off momentarily. “You’ll never fall in love again?”

You simply nod again. The truth of your reality is painful to acknowledge and your heart bears the weight of that knowledge. “That’s...fucked,” he mutters. He clears his throat once more, his mind still reeling from the revelation.

A heavy silence settles between you two as you grapple with the implications of your decision. Nothing feels the same anymore and the weight of your circumstances hangs in the air, destroying any hope of normalcy.

You roughly bring your hands down to your thighs as you get up. “Have you eaten?” you ask gently, attempting to divert his attention from the painful truth you had just dumped on him. “I have some leftover Chinese.”

Jimin’s gaze shifts toward you after a few seconds of no response, his mind still caught up in his thoughts. “Huh? Oh... yeah, sure, I’d like some,” he replies absentmindedly, his voice distant. His gaze shifts back to the muted TV. He reaches for the water bottle on the table, taking a sip to clear his throat once more.

You return to the kitchen, closing the door behind you to give Jimin some time to process in silence as you reheat the leftovers in the microwave. There’s a distant sound coming from another room but the humming of the microwave makes it hard to make out. You place two plates and two forks on the counter, reaching for 2 glasses while you wait for your food to heat up.

However, your attention is abruptly diverted when the microwave stops and you realize the distant noise is incessant coughing.

Concern bubbles in your chest, quickly hurrying out of the kitchen with the hot container of food in your hands, only to be met with the sight and sound of Jimin coughing. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?” you ask, reaching for the water bottle in front of him that he could easily take himself.

Jimin tries to dismiss your concern, shaking his head as he musters a weak smile. “No, I’m fine, something must’ve caught in my throat,” he reassures you, only to be interrupted by another fit of coughs. His hand flies up to his mouth, shielding it as his body convulses with the force of the coughing and gagging.

Your stomach drops, a sense of foreboding creeping into your chest. “Jimin?” you call out, taking another step toward him.

Abruptly, Jimin’s coughing stops. He stays with his hand pressed against his mouth for a few seconds before he slowly lowers his hand, staring at his palm with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Jimin?” you repeat, your voice carrying an underlying wave of panic this time.

His shocked eyes slowly trail up to yours, his hand lowering further to reveal his hand to you. You gulp as you let your eyes trail to his open palm.

Your eyes widen, your breath hitches in your throat and the container of hot Chinese food in your hands crashes to the floor, making the contents splatter all over your carpet.

Amidst the saliva and blood coating his palm, there sits a singular delicate flower petal in the center of his palm, mockingly staring at you.

A petal directly plucked from your birth flower.

.

.

.

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Ok listen-

i don’t know what happens in my brain at night but i woke up remembering my dream? So it went something like this:

Myself, Seokjin, Yoongi and Jungkook were drunk on bus?? The door was open, Yoongi was driving recklessly through the forest? Jungkook falls OUT OF THE DOOR and drags Seokjin with him, I panic and to try to grab them but they’re hanging onto a tree branch coming from the bus and they have a bag of food? Like generic white plastic bag.

And then all of a sudden I’m in a tree on Seokjins bare chest staring at bright pink things hanging from cherry blossom trees and i’m like “woah. what are those? they’re so pretty” and Seokjin MOANS, Yoongi grunts and Jungkook just giggles and says they’re plums??? And i’m like okay cool, that awesome. Let’s eat some! So we pluck some and then i’m laying on top of seokjin again but i’m lowkey leaving hickeys on his chest and he’s just watching the stars??? not to mention yoongi is tackling Jungkook to wrap up a wound he got?

And then I’m waking up to the doorbell and remembering this all like tf goes on in my brain at night

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Im absolutely devastated, no one talk to me

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because this is astounding!? like jinmin in a 3some as roommates is such a hot idea TT let’s all go to hell together with this one

Sleepover

You spend a night with your two best friends at their dorm room. You should have known that they wanted to do more than just watching movies.

☆ pairing: best friend!seokjin x fem!reader x best friend!jimin

☆ genre: roommates au, best friends with benefits, smut

☆ word count: 7.3k

☆ warnings: evil jin & jimin cus i can't write them if they aren't meanies (they're still cuties 💘), reader's kinda a bimbo and a crybaby oops, roommates jinmin, a bit of possessiveness 🤫, pussy drunk jimin <3 (he could drown himself in it istg), dicks analysis 🤓 (i love doing that, sorry not sorry), threesome, unprotected sex, degradation, edging, oral (f & m), fingering, lil bit of anal play 🙊, cum eating, and btw kissing is overrated.

a.n.: fucking finally ‼️ this is me signing up for hell. jinmin turned me into a helpless romantic whore. ... idk how my characters are supposed to interact outside of sex ☠️ sorry

"Hi."

Seokjin greets you as a huge grin forms on his face. He leans on the door he just opened, eyeing you up and down before hiding his other hand in the pocket of his shorts. You recognize them to be his basketball ones, his favourite and lucky pair of shorts.

"Hello," you say in return, passing by him to enter his dorm room he shares with Jimin.

His eyes follow you, lingering on your body shamelessly. You're already dressed for the sleepover, having chosen to wear your Snoopy themed night shorts with a random t-shirt you own since high school.

You turn around, catching Seokjin staring at you at the same time. Fortunately, you're not that bright so you don't question him. You probably didn't even notice his eyes were on you anyway.

"Where's Jiminie?" You ask him, voice pouty and disappointed to not see your other best friend in the room with you.

After he closes the door behind him, he walks up to you. He almost wants to laugh at the height difference you share. He can see the top of your head, well, he would if you hadn't your head tilted upward to look at him.

He's much taller and larger than you. It does something to him. Is he old fashioned for preferring his women shorter than him? Maybe, but screw it. It attracts him, he can't deny it, especially when the woman in question is you.

"He'll be back soon," he answers, watching how your hold on the strap of your backpack twitches when he steps closer to you. "He went to take a quick shower. Didn't want to stink after his practice," Seokjin explains and you nod, quickly backing away and throwing your bag on Jimin's bed.

He doesn't mean to make you anxious. It's not his fault if his proximity cuts your breath short, but he finds it cute. Really fucking cute.

Jimin's bed is placed on the left side of the room while Seokjin's bed is on the right. Their dorm is minimalist in terms of decoration because in terms of mess... it's the opposite. Typical of a young man's room — of a two young men's room.

It's not super messy where you can't even see the floor beneath your feet, but a box of empty beer bottles is chilling beside their mini-fridge and dirty clothes are scattered everywhere as well as school furniture.

As unpleasant as it seems, you feel good in their room.

And anyway, they know how to clean, they just don't really do it. What's new?

"Sorry for the wait!" Jimin exclaims as he enters the dorm, coming in with his used towel around his shoulders. He shakes his head, trying to get his wet brown hair away from his face. "The shower I normally use was broken, so I had to use another one and the stupid curtain was sticking to my ass," he loudly complains and removes his sandals by throwing them in a corner by the entry, walking up to you.

"That's why I don't pull the curtain," Seokjin says, always having the best but also weirdest advice. "Doesn't bother me anymore."

Jimin winces, giving him a dirty look. "You're fucked up for that," he accuses Seokjin, laying his towel on the back of his chair so it can dry properly. "There's water everywhere if you don't pull it."

"And you make weird eye contact with people," you add on, Jimin agreeing with you with a 'yeah' and a nod of his head.

Seokjin rolls his eyes as if you and Jimin are the weird ones when everybody knows damn well it's fucked up to not pull the shower curtain.

"Nah, just close your eyes," he persists, believing he's in the right and you both are in the wrong. "And anyway, it's better than having the curtain sticking to your butt every time someone enters the shower room. Plus, there's a drain for the water, so fuck you."

You gasp offendedly when he insults you, giving him a tap on the chest to scold him for his bad words. He only smirks at the hit, wanting to tell you it tickles as a way to tease you, but he knows you hate it when he laughs at your lack of strength.

"Don't say that!" You reprimand, staring at him severely and he thinks you just look so cute. It's unfortunate how he'll never take your anger seriously.

He grabs your wrist, stopping from giving him another hit as he can't help but laugh at your facial expression. "I wasn't saying it to you, babe," he rectifies, pulling you closer to him by the hold he has on your arm. Your face is then a couple inches away from his, the corner of his mouth twitching up, as always. "Just to him 'cause he deserves it, but not you."

You look at him in the eyes, breath quickening as his plump lips seem way too close to yours. You notice his gaze shifting between your lips and eyes, understanding the idea he has in mind. You don't let him think about it too much.

"You're stupid," you mumble as you detach yourself from him, putting a safe distance between you two.

You glimpse in Jimin's way, hoping he didn't see how Seokjin was literally asking for a kiss, but he's busy tidying up his hygiene products he brought to his shower.

Seokjin's eyes haven't left you, still looking at you with a smug smile on his face, but he stops when his friend turns around.

"Ok, so... what movie do we watch?"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

"There's no more soda," Seokjin announces, looking inside their almost empty mini-fridge. It would be time to go to the grocery store.

"But I need one!" You whine from where you are laid down on Seokjin's bed, previously sandwiched between the two men with Jimin's laptop on your lap to watch a movie. "I'm thirsty and water won't hit the same..."

Seokjin sighs, knowing he'll give in to your whims. How can he resist your adorable face and your pouty voice? You're their spoiled best friend, after all.

"I have to go to the convenience store..." He explains, hoping it'll make you change your mind and go with water instead of a soda.

You keep the same expression, big rounded eyes and corners of your lips tug downward. "Yeah?" You say back, not bothered to make him walk miles just for a little can of soft drink. "Please, you'd be a sweetheart, Jinnie," you flatter him, using compliments to make him give in and it works, as always.

"Okay..." He sighs again, upset for being so weak with you. You deserve it, but he's not really willing to leave you alone with Jimin, especially with the smug smile he has on his face right now.

"Bring some candies, too," you ask while he's searching through his wallet to check if he has enough coins.

"And chips," Jimin adds in, smirking like a devious child. "Oh, and ramen, since we're at it."

Seokjin narrows his eyes at him, well aware that his friend has something in mind, but he can't tell what exactly. "Do you have the money for it?"

"You do," he replies quickly, snuggling himself closer to you.

"I'm not paying for your shit, Jimin," Seokjin says back, putting his coins in the pocket of his basketball shorts.

"Ah, come on, hyung!" Jimin groans, but his friend doesn't want to hear him.

He picks up a pair of dirty jeans off the floor, knowing Jimin hides his coins in there. He pulls out a couple, not really caring if he takes more than he needs to.

He puts on his sneakers and brings his phone and keys with him, opening the door. "Don't wait for me!" He yells before exiting his dorm room he shares with Jimin, door closing behind him.

As you're about to press on the spacebar to resume the movie, Jimin closes his laptop, extending his body over yours to drop off the electronic device on the floor.

"What are you doing?" You question him, confused.

"Waiting for Jin."

"But he said-"

He cuts you off, putting his index finger over his lips. "Shut up, will you, princess?" He smiles when you don't dare to open your mouth again, looking at him with widened eyes and pouty lips.

He hovers over you, one hand supporting his weight on each side of your body. He rapidly settles himself between your legs, lowering himself slowly, looking deeply into your eyes. Your heart accelerates and your stomach twists, starting to get nervous about what Jimin is about to do.

He carefully lifts your pyjama top over your belly, making you involuntarily flinch when his lips brush against your skin. He glances at you when you move, but he doesn't say anything. He just looks at you with his piercing gaze as a warning or maybe as a way to reassure you, telling you that you don't have to be anxious.

You swallow in a whine when his pillowy lips lay on your stomach, leaving you bothered and hot by the simplest action, yet the most meaningful at the same time. He kisses your skin, his lips trailing down until they reach the band of your night shorts.

You shiver, swallowing again, the area between your legs heating up as he gives your stomach more kisses. They are wet and warm as well as intimate and sexual.

He presses his plump lips down on you, the tip of his nose touching your skin as he gets terribly close to your crotch. You're flustered by the way he explores this area of your body you never knew was this sensitive until now.

His hands grip the fat of your hips, gripping hard, but it doesn't pain you. It cuts your breath short and makes you feel possessed, like he owns you. Owns your body, owns your emotions because there's nobody else at the moment other than him who makes you feel this way.

His hands on your hips shift down to your clothes that separate you from his insatiable mouth. It's as if it's searching for you, searching for your core that is turning wetter as the time passes incredibly slow.

His lips travel between your thighs and you open them for him, not thinking once about anything else than his mouth on your private parts. His fingers tease you by slipping under the band of your shorts before slipping back up, doing it over again. He pulls them slightly down, but stops since he likes torturing you.

"Are you going to... to, um…" You lose your words, gasping loudly when his mouth finds your bud of nerves, already aching from the lack of contact.

He doesn't stay long, going up just above your pelvis, pulling down on your shorts by hooking two fingers under them at the front. "Yeah," he whispers, confirming your doubts.

You feel his hot breath on your skin, locking eyes with him as he continues to pull, also bringing down your panties. "Like... like the last time?" You ask in a little voice, which makes Jimin smirk.

"Like the last time," he repeats before concentrating back on his task.

He attacks your stomach in kisses, distracting you from the fact that he's now using his two hands to get your shorts and underwear off of you. It works, you don't fight back and only bury your fingers in his thick soft hair.

Rapidly, your clothes find a spot on the floor, being long forgotten the moment Jimin puts his mouth on your pussy. He licks a long strip from your leaking hole up to your clitoris, wrapping his lips around it. He passes his arms around your hips and your legs hang on his shoulders, clad feet touching his lower back.

He nibbles on your clit, suckling on it, making it puffy and swollen. He sucks avidly on your bud and million tingles pass through your body. You buck your hips upward by instinct, pushing down on his head and gripping his hair between your fists.

You moan sweetly, Jimin's cock hardening in his shorts at the beautiful sounds you let out each time he sucks and licks, giving you the impression that he's literally making out with your pussy.

You imprison his head between your plush thighs and he likes the feeling of it, he likes it very much. He's happy to know he makes you feel good, so good that you could suffocate him between your thighs. You do this because you're agitated, squirming around under him and moaning, sounding almost like cute little meows.

His head of silky brown hair peeks out from between your legs and your stomach flutters at the sight, your mind fuzzy from thousand little clouds.

He suckles on your clit and you lack the words to describe the feeling, but it's wet, so wet. His tongue is everywhere, teasing and licking like it’s second nature to him. At this very moment, you believe Jimin was born to eat pussy and nothing else.

He ruts his hips against the mattress and lets out a deep moan, cock aching from being restricted in its confines. The wet sounds your cunt produces turn him on so bad, dick painfully hard at the melody of your moans and at the way you shove him against your pussy as if his head wasn't already buried between your legs.

It's a lot for you, your fingers can't compete against his mouth — they would lose instantly. If Seokjin knew what you two were doing right now, you can't imagine what his reaction would be. You wonder if he knows about last time, there's no way he doesn't, Jimin hides nothing from him.

If he knows, then why did he leave you alone with his friend who is incapable of keeping his tongue in his mouth, away from your cunt? That's why he was so hesitant. You feel bad, you shouldn't be doing this behind his back... No, you shouldn't be doing this at all. Or should you?

Is Seokjin's tongue as skillful as Jimin's? As wet and warm? Surely, with his pair of heart-shaped lips you can only imagine what they would do to your poor little clit.

You moan at the thought, twisting Jimin's hair in your small fists, coming closer to your orgasm. It doesn't take you a lot, a few licks and he has you over the edge. With skills like his, you're sure to be in seventh heaven really quickly.

So quickly and intensely that you don't even hear the door opening and closing, nor does your best friend.

"Jimin, what the fuck!?"

You knit your eyebrows at the sudden exclamation, but don't give it much importance as you feel your orgasm coming. Your pleasure is cut short and you get frustrated really fast.

"No, no, no," you panic, feeling Jimin's mouth leaving your pussy. You pull on his hair to have him back against you, but he doesn't budge.

"What?" Jimin responds nonchalantly, looking at Seokjin who has just entered the dorm with sodas and snacks bought at the convenience store down the street. "Don't you want the poor girl to cum?" He smirks like the situation is totally normal.

And maybe it is normal. It's not the first time he's gotten his way with you, it surely won't be the last. You're stupid enough to not see the way your friends look at you, how they undress you with their eyes and how they lick their lips salaciously whenever you find yourself in a compromising position.

They are perverts, but with you they are more than that and you're about to find it out.

You turn your head toward Seokjin who's standing beside the bed, a crease between his dark eyebrows. His gaze is sharp, mad at you for being such a whore, but can he really blame you when Jimin's lips are so tempting, literally breathtaking.

"Oh, please, Jinnie!" You beg, clit pulsating. Having Jimin's mouth just over your cunt is agonizing, so hurtful when he could soothe the ache between your legs in less than a second.

"What are you begging for, hm?" He says, his voice husky, making your stomach twist. You whine, eyes watering at how badly you need this release. "Can you tell me instead of crying like a little slut?"

Jimin looks at you from his spot between your thighs, smiling devilishly with no intention of helping you unless you follow Seokjin's order. You find it unfair and kind of dumb because if he had come in just a minute later, you would've orgasmed by the time. And it would have been magical.

Sloppy kisses are given to your inner thighs and you swear Jimin is doing it on purpose. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hands, taking a deep breath before locking eyes with Seokjin. "Please, can I cum?"

"I don't know," he answers curtly and you frown even more. He approaches you and lean over you, taking a hold of your jaw, angling it in his direction. "How badly do you want it?" He whispers, his pink lips so close to yours, you can't help but stare at them.

"I- I," you stutter out, totally braindead and on the verge of tears. It shouldn't be that hard to say a complete sentence, but right now, it is. You surely look pathetic, crying for a stupid orgasm. "Please, want it badly."

"Good girl," he purrs when you finally say the words he wanted to hear. "Yes, you can, sweetheart," he gives his approval and your eyes light up.

Jimin doesn't wait to get back into it, lips already on your clit when Seokjin lets go of your face. You both look down at where Jimin's mouth operates, slurping up your arousal and flickering your little bud of nerves with his pink muscle.

You whine and grip his hair, tangling your fingers in it. You jut your hips upward in his face, his licks and sucks much more powerful than previously.

You're brought back to the edge of your orgasm in little time, mouth agape as you close your legs around Jimin's head. Seokjin takes the opportunity to insert two of his fingers in your mouth, going deep and pressing his digits down on your tongue.

You close your lips around him and you ask yourself if he's verifying how much you can handle at once. If you can take his long fingers, you're surely capable of taking something else way bigger.

You drool all over yourself and wince at the wet feeling, not really appreciating it. You moan around his fingers as you rock your hips in Jimin's face, the knot in your stomach ripping apart. The pleasure is intoxicating and ten times more intense. Who would've thought Jimin's mouth can turn such a little orgasm into a literal tsunami.

You cum hard while still having Seokjin's fingers knuckles deep in your mouth. You hear Jimin groaning at the pain you inflict on him by pulling on his hair, but he loves the pain and loves even more your cunt rubbing in his face.

Jimin removes your thighs off of his shoulders and pushes them over your stomach. He savours your arousal dripping down from your hole, drinking it like a thirsty man as if it was his only source of water. He makes out with your pussy and this time it's not just an impression. He's opening and closing his mouth on you, sucking on your lips like he would do if he was kissing you.

Seokjin retracts his digits from your mouth and slaps the side of your face with his wet fingers, cupping your jaw after. "Happy? You got what you wanted, greedy little girl," he rasps out, gritting his teeth.

He's so hot when he grits his teeth. He has this look in his eyes, one that makes goosebumps run down your spine. He seems mad, upset you've let Jimin get into your pants so easily without a second thought. Or mad because you didn't wait for him. Well, according to Jimin it's what you were doing, but you shouldn't have started without him. If only you knew you were about to start that.

"Yes," you nod, muttering the word. Seokjin holds your face tightly, fingers pressing on your cheeks, jutting your lips out.

Jimin gets up on his knees and your heart does a flip in your chest at the view of him with his hair tousled, knowing you're the cause of this beautiful mess. His lips and chin are drenched in your juices. He licks them clean and wipes his chin with his hand, flashing you a devious smile after.

"She's just a dumb little girl, now," he teases, bulge very apparent in his shorts. "Did you have a good time, hm? Grinding on my tongue like a deprived virgin?"

Seokjin frees your face to cup your cunt instead, slapping it a couple of times, making you squirm out of overstimulation. "She sure did," he agrees, licking your arousal off his fingers before speaking up again. "Look at her. No thoughts behind those pretty eyes."

You want to say something back, but you can only produce a pathetic whimper.

Jimin is about to lower his shorts over his crotch when Seokjin stops him. "What are you doing?" He asks with a scowl on his face.

"Well, it's my turn," he answers casually, but Seokjin doesn't really agree with him. "I got her all wet, I deserve that pussy."

"Yeah, and you did it behind my back. It's only fair I get to it first-"

"No..." You grumble, interrupting your friend. They both look at you, intrigued with what you have to say. "Stop fighting. I get to decide who enters me." You roll over, getting on your stomach and then on all fours to escape Jimin. You sit up, flicking your eyes between the two men. "And nobody will."

"What!? Why!" Jimin exclaims while Seokjin scoffs. It's stupidly easy to piss them off.

You place yourself over the edge of the bed, your back facing Seokjin and your clad feet hanging off the mattress. You grab Jimin's hand to bring him over to you. You sit on your calves, opening your legs wider and leaning on your hands while Jimin is placed on his knees, back straight.

You look over your shoulder and point at Seokjin where he should be. "Kneel here," you instruct, pointing to the spot just behind you.

You smile when he gets on his knees and he grins back at you, knowing your greedy little pussy wants more. Two pairs of plump lips on your sex on the same day? Blissful.

But you should know Seokjin isn't really the type to follow orders, far away from obeying to your selfish little rules. He's the one who commands, not the opposite. Never the opposite.

"Jimin," you tug on his shorts, making him look down at you.

He smiles sweetly, cradling your face in his warm hands. "Yeah, princess?" He purses his lips as if to send you a kiss. "Wanna suck on my dick? Is that what you want?" He coos, saying such lewd words in a soft voice.

"Please."

He groans appreciatively at your pleading, his cock twitching happily in his briefs. "Get rid of that first, baby," he demands, pulling your pyjama top off of you, revealing your breasts to him. "Perfect..." He purrs, fumbling your tits in his palms before reaching for the band of his shorts.

At the same time Jimin's pulling his cock out, you feel your asscheeks being pushed apart and a big glob of spit falling down between them, dripping down over your puckered hole. You gasp when a thumb comes to stroke the muscle, lubricating it.

You can't really focus on what's happening behind when Jimin's angry erection stands proud just before your eyes. You moan at the sight, having never thought that seeing your best friend's dick would have been so arousing.

He's perfectly girthy, his head a cute shade of pink and glistening in pre-cum. He's not super veiny, but you can sense the weight of it. Looking at it makes you hungry, salivating like a dog in front of a bowl of food.

Jimin is not shaved and you love it. He has two well defined shallow grooves on his abdomen going from his hip bone to his pubis, accentuating how slim and muscled his body is. A few veins pulse out on his abdomen, going down to his pubis, and you want to pass your tongue over each one of them.

You open your mouth, Jimin guiding his cock toward your mouth, but it's at that moment that Seokjin plunges two fingers in your cunt. You moan out, knitting your eyebrows as he reaches a sensitive spot right away. He scissors your insides, and even if you said nobody would fuck you, you think he's stretching you out exactly for that.

"Shhh," Jimin tries to soothe you, patting your head in an endearing manner. "Keep your mouth open, baby." You do so and he doesn't hesitate to penetrate it, moaning in relief as he puts a hand at the back of your head to keep it steady.

He keeps a hand around his base to guide it in your mouth and you relax your jaw, letting him stuff you full of his cock. You want to reach the end so bad, pleasure Jimin like he did with you, but he feeds you his dick slowly, too slowly.

You've never been that eager, that impatient to suck a cock. You want to make him cum, to satisfy him. You want him to use you, use you like you're worth nothing more than a sexual object. He can ruin you, fuck your throat with his fat cock, you only care about his — their — pleasure.

He holds your head, letting go of his cock when he considers he's far enough in. "Ah, what a good fucking whore," he praises breathily, watching the way your lips wrap tightly around his stiff erection, drool dripping down on your chin from being so full.

You bat your eyelashes at Jimin, feeling your eyes stinging. He growls when your eyes connect, his fluffy bangs covering his beautiful almond shaped eyes.

You can't see Seokjin's movements, but you can feel everything. His breaths, the calluses on his hand palming your butt, his long fingers pounding into you, his thumb teasing your rim, you feel it all.

He lays his tongue flat over your cunt where his fingers operate, licking a long trail until he reaches your other hole. You clench around him, a little bit taken back by his obsession with your ass, but still really turned on.

It's nowhere near uncomfortable, though it's not an area you usually explore when you're alone. You keep your jaw slack for Jimin as he starts to thrust in back and forth at a slow pace. He doesn't move much, most of his length stays in your mouth. It's enough friction for him to enjoy, hearing his soft moans above you.

You arch your back to Seokjin's pleasure and he groans pleasantly, having his head buried between your cheeks. He curls his fingers in you and pat gently the spongy spot in you, making you moan obscenely around Jimin's thick cock.

It sends delicious vibrations through Jimin's body and he opens his mouth in pleasure, pushing his cock in deeper. He frowns adorably while his mouth is ajar, watching his meaty length disappear and reappear between your swollen lips.

Seokjin's traces your empty hole with the tip of his tongue, teasing you and making you contract around his fingers so hard he has difficulty to move in. He slaps your ass and your whine is muffled because of Jimin's cock in your mouth. You unclench and he can finally move in freely.

He pulls on one cheek while he kisses and licks around your rim, sometimes going in just a little. You push your behind onto Seokjin, eliciting another groan from him, angry or maybe satisfied, you have no idea.

You're trapped between your two male best friends and you don't know what to think, mind so dizzy, potentially ready to explode. One feeds you his cock, the other eats your ass while fingering your pussy. How can your brain function correctly in this situation? Well, it cannot.

"So fucking impatient," Seokjin observes, now entering a bit of his thumb into your hole. The stretch is weird, but it tingles at the same.

He removes his two digits from your drenched pussy, making you whimper around Jimin, spreading your wetness over your puckered hole after he extracted his thumb. You feel the dampness between your cheeks, purring when Seokjin brings up more arousal.

He pulls your two globs of flesh apart, coming to lick your ass again. You feel his nose pressing down on you and the teasing tip of pink muscle tickling your tight hole. He almost cleans you off of your juices, leaving only his saliva and the insatiable hunger he has for your ass.

Your eyes roll back and Jimin sees it, gripping your hair at the top of your head in a tight fist. You let out a painful long whine, loving the burning sting and the stretch of your ass Seokjin offers you.

Jimin guides the bounces of your head on his cock, doing long and rhythmic thrusts. He groans deeply, the sound coming from his throat, and you mewl in return.

His face is all puffy, cheeks coloured in red, breath shallow and lips dried. He licks them, swallowing in a breathy moan after. He looks delectable, his dark gaze planted on you, never once looking away unless it's to watch his thick cock entering your mouth at an exhilarating pace.

You feel digits stroking your rim, teasing a bit before Seokjin spits on it. "I should fuck that tight ass," he states as he spreads his saliva, dipping in his thumb slightly. "For fucking with Jimin behind my back." He passes a finger over your slicks, noticing how wet you are.

You want to protest, hearing Seokjin standing up on his feet after his scary, but tempting threat. You're about to pull out when Jimin pushes down on your head, keeping it in place. "Ah, shit..." He hisses, feeling you swallowing around him.

It's not long until you sense a long cock sliding over your drenched cunt and you look worryingly at Jimin, but he only smiles at you, still holding your head down.

Seokjin pushes his bulbous head down your tight ass hole and you clench around nothing, heart beating faster. You wonder if he'd really dare to do it, but you know he's not the kind of guy to do it the... messy way. He's teasing, as always.

"Stop whining, baby," Jimin coos, stroking your cheek delicately. He moves in slightly and you flatten your tongue under his meaty cock. "Relax, m'kay? There's nothing to worry about, it's just us," he reassures you and you close your eyes, letting him use your mouth as he pleases.

You finally feel his cock penetrating you, sliding in your pussy in one motion. Your wetness allows him to enter you with ease, making you moan around Jimin's hard dick. One hand strokes your back, big palm caressing your sweaty skin, passing over the bumps of your spinal column.

"She's fucking tight, sucking me in like crazy," Seokjin rasps out, smacking one of your asscheeks, making your flesh jiggle from the force of the hit. "Acts like she doesn't wanna get fucked, but that's all she's been dreaming about..."

You whine, wanting to say something, but you can't while having a full mouth. "Such a dirty girl, aren't you, princess?" Jimin purrs, perfect pink lips curving upward into an evil smile.

He refrains a lewd moan from escaping his mouth by biting down on his bottom lip, fist pulling harder on your hair. You do your best to breathe through your nose, focusing on your gag reflex and hollowing your cheeks to maximize his pleasure.

"Ah, fuck-!" Jimin frowns and grits his teeth, too close to his high to continue fucking your mouth. He yanks your head back, pulling out of you in an instant.

His cock twitches after he analyses your face, looking absolutely destroyed. You breathe with difficulty, cheeks stained by your tears and chin by your drool. You blink several times, looking back into his eyes before moaning out loudly, leaning yourself on Jimin.

Seokjin doesn't miss your sweet spot and it's too intense for you, holding on to Jimin for some emotional support. You grip the sides of his t-shirt, sticking the side of your face to his chest, crying against him all while you're getting fucked by one of your best friends.

Jimin can't help but play with your dangling breasts, fumbling the plushy flesh in his rough palms and pulling on your nipples. It makes you arch your back, leaning on Jimin's touch and pushing your hips against Seokjin's.

The man behind you grips your hips tightly, sinking his fingers into your soft flesh, leaving your poor skin sore and the marks of his fingertips behind. He snaps his hips against yours roughly and he seems to never get enough, driving his cock into your wet pussy like a mad man.

Jimin's erection stands just before your eyes, glistening in your spit and hard as rock. He sees you looking at it so he grabs it, guiding it to your lips. "Wanna suck it, baby?" He asks in his sweet voice and you glimpse up at him, drooling on his t-shirt, looking totally braindead. "Don't be shy, open your mouth..."

You part your lips to mouth at the reddened tip, suckling on it gently. Jimin hums, stroking your hair delicately, the opposite of Seokjin's actions who pounds into you with force, using you to get himself off.

Suddenly, he steadies his hips against your ass, stopping his vigorous hip thrusts. He then pulls out and your legs fail you, no longer strong enough to stand on their own without him holding you up. You cry, letting go of Jimin's cock and glancing over your shoulder to see Seokjin getting rid of his long-sleeved t-shirt.

"Do you want to switch?" Jimin questions his hyung and this one nods, catching his breath.

"Yeah," he breathes out a positive answer.

Jimin smirks down at you. "Come here, baby," he softly instructs, grabbing your bicep and bringing you to the head of the bed. He takes off his sweats before stretching out his legs and leaning his head on the pillows. "Turn around, show me this little ass."

You straddle his lap how he wants it and you see Seokjin following you, gently tugging at his aching cock covered in your juices. He's long and curvy, but he looks less stiff than Jimin. You suppose he's the type to get more length when erect, unlike his friend.

"Come on, princess, put it in," Jimin smiles and you look at him, shuddering in desire at his words. "Sit on it," he insists.

"Yes, Minnie," you sigh out of exhaustion.

You take his wet cock in your hand and angle it toward your leaking hole, moaning softly when you sink down on him. The stretch of your cunt is good, feeling completely full. He twitches happily in you, Jimin extending his arms to grip your hips possessively.

You moan in unison, Jimin letting out a long grunt and you a loud whine. He doesn't reach as deep as Seokjin, but he fills you up really well.

"Oh, fuck," Jimin curses, biting down on his bottom lip out of pleasure. "Go ahead, ride me, baby," he softly demands and you oblige happily.

You start doing a grind motion, leaning on Jimin's thighs to keep your balance. He runs his palms all over your body, appreciating your curves and the way you move your hips on him to pleasure yourself.

Seokjin grips your chin, making you face his angry erection, his hand wrapped around it. "Show me how good of a slut you are, sweetheart," he sings, tucking a wild strand of hair behind your ear.

His long fingers stroke his cock, but they stop at the base when you tilt your head down, catching his swollen tip in your mouth. He hums appreciatively and passes his fingers through your hair, now wet by your sweat. He collects your hair in an improvised ponytail, keeping them away from your face.

You bob your head over his long cock, stroking the base with one of your palms since you can't fit all of him in your mouth, your other palm still sitting on Jimin's thigh. You hear the beautiful, raspy moans of Seokjin, proud of yourself for making him feel good.

He is smoothly shaved, skin soft and sturdy under your tongue and fingertips. You love the sleek feeling of Seokjin's pubis, although you equally adore the stinging feeling of Jimin's pubic hair against your skin.

You grind on Jimin, doing little motions that are more pleasurable to you, but he still approves, muttering a 'fuck yeah' while directing your hips.

You suck Seokjin as if you were in a porno, bobbing your head over his length and moaning around him exaggeratedly. You don't know where this sudden vigour comes from, but you won't complain. Surely not when he looks impressed, in total admiration.

"Fucking slut," Jimin slurs out, pupil dilated and filled in lust at the sight of a white ring around the base of his cock left by your pussy.

You whine around Seokjin, disagreeing with him, or maybe agreeing. It doesn't matter anyway with the way you clench around him each time he throws bad words at you.

You like how they treat you, as if all those insults were deserved and justified. But they know damn well none of the things they say are true, that's why it's so exciting.

You move in slow circles, Jimin's hands grabbing and slapping your ass. Your juices are everywhere, dripping down on his balls and sticking to his pelvis. It feels a little bit nasty, but you don't think anyone in this room really cares.

It smells so much like sex and you wonder how long it'll take for the odour to go away. Knowing your friends, they could probably never open the windows just to keep the smell of you in. You would dissuade them from it, because come on, but the thought makes you slightly smile.

"Fuck, this mouth is doing wonders," Seokjin compliments and you're ravished to hear that. "Don't know how long I'll last, sweetheart," he announces, looking down at your lips gliding smoothly over his long, curvy cock.

"Same," Jimin adds in, voice raspy and breath erratic.

You're encouraged by that, pleased to know you're making them feel really good. You use your full potential and lift up your hips, dropping them back down on Jimin's dick. You love the stretch, love how his cock pushes your walls to make room for himself, being so big your pussy just can't keep his size.

You take Seokjin's in your mouth, slurping and swallowing around him. He groans, telling you how much he likes you and your wet tongue.

"Okay- Fuck," Seokjin begins, but curses when you cup his balls, innocently glancing up at him. He puts a hand on the top of your head and pushes you away from him, his cock slipping out of your mouth. "I'm taking her pussy, now," he says, still looking at you even though he's addressing Jimin.

"No! Why?" Jimin complains, groaning loudly in disagreement.

"Because I want to," he says back, too stubborn to even consider another option.

"Well, you're gonna let me finish first."

As you lift up your hips, Jimin's cock pulling out of you, he's quick to turn you around and lay you down on the bed where he was positioned previously. Seokjin lets him, rolling his eyes at the childishness of his friend — even though he's not acting very mature either.

Jimin straddles your waist, stroking his cock just over your breasts, licking his lips. You watch his hand running up and down his length rapidly, all coated in your wetness and saliva of earlier.

"Shit, shit- I'm cumming," he hastily warns, fingers wrapped tightly around his dick. He was already close when he was in you, so it doesn't take long until he's brought back close to his high.

His eyes are blown out, looking at your tits like there's nothing sexier than them. His hips stutter and you place your palms on his naked thighs, feeling how hot his skin is.

"Ah! Fuck," he chokes on his words, angling his cock toward your boobs. You look at him emptying himself on your chest, long ropes of white cum landing on your breasts. He keeps stroking obsessively until he spills out everything, little white beads falling from his wet and reddened tip.

He whines a little when it starts to hurt because of overstimulation. He eventually finishes, passing a hand through his hair, removing his wet bangs from covering his eyes. His chest heaves rapidly as he tries to regain a normal breathing.

"Go away, loser."

Jimin sends a murderous glare at Seokjin before clearing the way, sitting down, back against the wall.

Seokjin penetrates you again, locking your shaky legs behind his back. You gasp when he pounds in immediately, not once missing a beat. You sneak a hand between your legs, reaching your pulsating and puffy clit left alone for too long now.

With your other hand, you swipe a finger in Jimin's cum on your boobs, picking it up and bringing it to your mouth. Seokjin watches you eating his friend's cum and he squints his eyes at you, perhaps a little jealous.

"Oh! Jinnie," you mewl, the knot in your stomach tightening from his tip brushing against the sweet spot inside of you and your finger drawing quick circles on your clit.

You lick more cum off your fingers, arching your back and closing your walls around Seokjin's long cock. You moan loudly when you reach your high, milky his dick and clenching repeatedly around him, bringing him close to his high as well.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His hips snap against yours and like earlier, they steady on you, cock twitching inside your pussy.

He doesn't pull out this time and paints your insides white in his cum, spurting everything he has deep into you. You sigh of contentment, loving the hot sensation of his cum in your pussy.

"I'm so full, Jinnie," you purrs and he slips out slowly, looking at his seeds dripping out of you as you hole keeps quivering and clenching from your previous orgasm.

He wets his lips, wishing he could see this everyday of the week; you full of his creamy cum. But of course, he's not the only one to want this. He'd have to share.

"Next time, I'm the one cumming inside," Jimin says from where he is, catching a glimpse of the white substance falling out of your hole. "You selfish jerk," he mutters to his friend.

Later on, after Seokjin passed a cloth between your legs and Jimin cleaned the mess he made on your breasts, you fell asleep in Seokjin's bed. The boys finished the movie without you since you were too tired, eyelids closing on their own.

They stayed up late at night, playing video games and eating ramen, sometimes giving each other stupid challenges like doing a certain amount of push-ups in a determined time.

They didn't really disturb your sleep since you were knocked out. Though you sometimes woke up from their voices, you went back to sleep easily. You don't know who slept beside you that night, but you woke up with Jimin's arm around your waist and Seokjin coming back with breakfast.

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Do not ask for a part 2.

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i’m obsessed with this song TT i like just found it and it’s been on repeat for 20 minutes now

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