;dimple (m)

;dimple (m)

pairing—kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings—smut, comedy, slight angst/drama, romance, slow burn, roommates/friends words— 14,725

summary— What’s the rule again? How many dates does it take for you have sex with a guy? Three? Five? Ten?! What if all this waiting and you can’t remember how to do it? It’s been so long since the last time you swear you’ve forgotten! You’re desperate, and that’s how you end up asking your roommate for help. Only trouble is, you get much more than you bargained for…

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park and ride (explicit)

genre: smut

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: your fuckbuddy asks if the two of you can drive around a bit first, but he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself

word count: 4.8k

contains: explicit sexual content bb! idol verse, fuckbuddies, teasing while driving, semi-public sex (aka fuckin in a car), fingering, squirting, a smidge of size kink, also joon really likes your skirt

A/N: inspired by that ~mysterious extra day~ in america and joon posting Fast Car by Syd on his story (which, btw, TASTE) - this is also on AO3 if you'd rather read it over there!

For your own sanity, you try to stay busy. You go for a long run every morning to clear your mind. You delete Twitter from your phone and get two weeks ahead on your grad school assignments. You go out for drinks with friends and pepper them with questions about their own personal dramas.

But all the while that glimmer of hope in your chest remains, impossible to extinguish entirely. You know by now to keep your expectations low, very low. Just because he’s on this side of the world doesn’t mean he’ll have time to see you, and most of the time, he doesn’t. You figure there’s no point in obsessing over something that’s out of your control.

But this time is one of those rare occasions where the stars align and the universe decides to throw you a good turn, and you can’t help the smile that breaks across your face when he calls.

“I got an extra day. Are you free tomorrow night?”

“Hmm… yeah, I should be able to pencil you in,” you joke.

The celebrity part of it is still pretty bizarre, but you’ve done this enough now that it’s become its own weird little routine. Pulling up to a hotel where the nightly rate costs more than your monthly share of rent. Handing the valet the keys to your shitty Honda Civic. Checking in at the front desk and giving the alias the group is booked under, which changes every trip. Showing your ID so they can confirm you’re on the approved list of visitors. Having a special room key made that allows you access to their restricted hotel floor. Just all part of the process.

And that’s not even mentioning the one time you were personally escorted by a bodyguard to his room; you wondered on the elevator ride up how much time their security staff spends ushering fuckbuddies in and out. You’ve decided that maybe you don’t want to know the answer to that one.

So it’s a surprise when he asks on the phone, “Can you pick me up instead this time? We don’t have to go anywhere special, maybe just drive around a bit? I’m so sick of hotel rooms.”

“Is this all a ploy to stop me from raiding your minibar?”

He laughs softly. “Oh don’t get me wrong. I definitely still plan on taking you back to my room and…” He trails off, well aware that he doesn’t need to explicitly finish the sentence. “Well, you know. Just need some fresh air first, I think.”

You decide you’ve given him enough sass for one phone call and bite back the urge to argue that he’s not actually taking you anywhere, as you’re the only one with a license in this situationship.

“Yeah, sure. I can do that.”

~*~

Never in a million years would you have ever thought you’d have Kim Namjoon riding shotgun in your car, the seat pushed back as far as it can go to accommodate his long legs.

He’d slipped out of the front door of the hotel looking as nondescript as possible in a black hoodie and shorts, face hidden almost entirely by a black facemask and a bucket hat pulled down low over his eyes. You pause, hands still on the wheel, wondering if you should expect some kind of greeting. This is so far outside the realm of your normal interactions that you have no established protocol to follow.

“It’s good to see you, let’s get out of here.” He says softly, and you take that as your cue to shift gears and follow the road out of the hotel entrance.

Namjoon seems tense, you think as you pass through an intersection. He keeps switching between checking his phone, looking out the passenger-side window, then turning over his shoulder to look at the traffic behind you.

“Sorry,” he explains, “Not trying to be rude. Just being careful.” That’s when it finally registers in your mind that he’s making sure you’re not being followed, and the thought sends a shiver of fear up your spine. The fact that this is a regular part of life for him is so strange.

The city is fairly deserted tonight, and when you stop at the next red light you can see him visibly relax a little, unlooping his mask from around his ears and tucking it into his pocket along with his phone. He slips his hat off as well and tosses it in the backseat, pulling down the visor to make sure his hair looks good in the tiny mirror. You try to suppress a laugh; surely this man knows that he already rolls out of bed looking fine as hell, no adjustments necessary.

He flips the visor closed and catches you staring at him, and a thrum of desire runs through you. Has he managed to get hotter since the last time you saw him? You didn’t think that was possible.

“Come here,” he murmurs, leaning over to cup your jaw with one hand and bring you in for a kiss.

This is your favorite part of these reunions—remembering all the little things you’d forgotten since the last time. Like how big and warm his hands are, how hungrily he kisses you. It isn’t until an impatient horn blaring snaps you back to reality that you remember you were stopped at a red light, which is now very much green. Judging by the way the driver behind you is laying on the horn, it’s been green for a while.

“Fuck, oops.” You move to pull away but he keeps his hand on your jaw, holding you in place, your lips inches apart. His eyes are dark with pure want as he stares at your mouth.

“One more.” His lips are so soft; this kiss is sweeter than the first, less urgent. You barely notice as the driver behind you swerves into the other lane to pass your stopped car and speeds off through the intersection.

Namjoon brushes his thumb against your cheek and then removes his hand somewhat reluctantly. You can’t hold back your smile as you ease your foot off the brake, trying to focus on the road. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but when you see a green light while driving, it means you’re supposed to go.”

He leans back in the passenger seat, his hands clasped behind his head, dimples fully on display as he laughs. “There it is. I knew you’d get in a license joke eventually.”

“I held it in for as long as I could.”

“I bet you did.”

You realize he didn’t give you any directions on where to go, so you drive aimlessly through the city that you know so well. The lights at night are beautiful, even you can admit that, and though you typically hate the many intersections, it’s not so bad when you have someone to kiss you breathless each time you hit a red light.

During a particularly long stretch of greens, he taps his knuckles on the center console. You glance over to see his eyes roaming across the inside of your car, like he’s just realized where he is. “So this is your whip, huh?”

The fact that this dork is a professional rapper amazes you sometimes. “Top of the line 2008 Honda Civic.”

He touches a finger to a mystery stain on the vinyl of your dashboard that’s been there for at least a decade. “I could get you a better car than this.” He doesn’t say it in a bragging way, though he certainly could. Instead he just sounds sweet, and sincere. Like he wants you to have nice things.

You roll your eyes. “Save your money. There’s nothing wrong with this car.”

With a thoughtful hum, Namjoon rests his left hand just above your knee, and you reflexively spread your legs a little wider, keeping your eyes firmly on the road despite your quickening pulse. His thumb draws lazy circles on the outside of your thigh. “Well, now we know you’re not fucking me for my money.”

The truth escapes with a laugh before you can stop it. “No, I’m fucking you for your big dick.”

“Oh?” His hand climbs a little higher and arousal pools in your belly. You can already feel yourself getting wet. “Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm.” Eyes on the road, you tell yourself. His hand is rubbing your thigh gently now. It takes all of your willpower not to look over at him.

“I like this skirt,” He says softly, and a blush creeps up your neck. You’ve always had a complex about being fashion-challenged, and having a fuckbuddy with personal stylists and access to the nicest clothes money can buy doesn’t help. You changed outfits about twenty times before you finally settled on this one, a black long-sleeve and a yellow plaid miniskirt.

You lose your train of thought entirely when he nudges his hand a little higher, slipping it under the fabric, and hooks his pinky finger around the lace edge of your panties. Your cunt clenches at the thought of his long fingers in you.

“Are you trying to make me crash this car?” You do your best to keep your voice even, though you’re certain he can tell your thighs are quivering.

His fingers trace along the line of your panties where your hip and thigh meet, lighting every last one of your nerve endings on fire. “No, but maybe we should… park somewhere.” The suggestion surprises you, but you’re not opposed. In fact, you’re hard pressed to think of a place where you wouldn’t be willing to fuck Kim Namjoon.

“Are you sure?” “If you want to.” He responds nonchalantly. His hand slides out from under your skirt, moving a few inches back down your thigh. “I’ll behave now. How’s school?”

You laugh incredulously—your panties are soaked and this tease wants to talk about grad school? “Oh no, you started this. Don’t you change the subject.”

You don’t even have to look over to know he’s smiling at your frustration, and you turn right at the next intersection and then immediately left into the parking lot of a shopping center. It’s several hours after closing, so the place is empty, but you still drive around the building to the large commuter lot behind it to ensure you’re properly hidden.

You pull into a space directly in front of the “Park and Ride” sign, and you smirk as you pull up the parking brake. The irony is not lost on you.

The moment where you each have to fumble to unbuckle your seatbelt is just awkward enough that you’re laughing when he pulls you back in for another kiss across the center console. Euphoric is the only way to describe the feeling of having him here. It’s proof that he’s not some dream you made up but somehow, impossibly real.

He leans the passenger seat as far back as it will go, shifting his body to one side as best as he can to offer you the seat. “Will you please come over here?”

It’s certainly not graceful as the two of you fumble to get comfortable in the cramped space of your front seat, but when is it ever with him? You’ve seen him shatter wine glasses, knock over bedside lamps and alarm clocks, and you still haven’t let him live down the time he once fully broke the wooden frame of a hotel bed. You like that he’s multifaceted; he can make you laugh and fuck you senseless.

You take his place lying back in the passenger seat and he crawls over you, kneeling on the edge of the seat and resuming the urgent kisses, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You only break apart to shed clothing, first your shirt, then his, and then your bra. (He looks extra smug for being able to undo it one-handed on the first try.)

He tosses it into the backseat with the rest of your clothes then pauses to take you in, eyes roaming over your body. He licks his lips. “You’re beautiful.”

Your nipples stiffen at his words and the cool night air; being half-exposed like this makes the reality of the situation set in. You’re technically fucking in public, and it’s turning you on a lot more than you anticipated.

You run your hands over his shoulders and across his chest and groan as he moves his lips down the slope of your neck. He’s just so big, especially in your small car—broad shoulders, long legs, and flexing muscles that make your core throb in anticipation. You’re dying for him to touch you, to fuck you, but he’s taking his sweet time.

As if sensing your impatience, he grabs both of your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of you while he kisses, bites, and licks along your neck and collarbones. You can’t contain the little noises he pulls out of you when he finds a particularly sensitive spot.

You try straining against his grip just to see what happens, but he’s so much stronger than you that he doesn’t budge. When you whine a little, you feel him smile against your skin.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” He lets one of your hands free and brings his own to cup your left breast, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your nipple in just the right way that makes you arch up into his touch. Fuck, he’s good at that.

“You have me.” Namjoon says, like it’s obvious. “Be more specific.” He dips his head down to tease a circle around your nipple with his tongue, then just barely grazes the sensitive tip with his teeth and you moan.

Your head is spinning, and you can’t keep your voice from shaking as he gives the same attention to your right breast, his thumb continuing to work the left one.

“I need to f-feel you inside me,” you groan. “Please.” Your pussy aches from lack of attention.

“Whatever you like, baby.” He replies, shifting his position slightly to get a better angle. Your head falls back against the seat as his hand makes contact with your thigh, rubbing it just like he did when he was teasing you while you drove. Your breath catches when he slides both of his hands under your skirt, thumbs hooking your panties, and pulls them down in one swift motion. “Skirt stays on.” He says with a flash of his dimpled smile. “I like it.”

You maneuver to get your underwear all the way off in the limited amount of space and nearly knee him in the groin. The look of concern on his face at the close call makes you laugh out loud, which quickly turns into a moan when he presses two fingers into your dripping cunt. You’re breathless and still smiling, completely dazed from it all, as he pumps them in and out of you at a torturously slow pace.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” His thumb slides between your folds, collecting the wetness there. He gently circles over your clit and you gasp. You’re not gonna make it, you think. You’ll die right here in the passenger seat if he keeps touching you like this.

Instinctively you move to cover your flushed face with your forearm, embarrassed by how overwhelmed with pleasure you are, but he catches your wrist and pins it down again with his left hand, the other still working your pussy.

“Don’t hide,” he murmurs. “I want to watch you fall apart.” And then he picks up the pace.

You’re helpless to his touch, moaning and panting for air as you feel your orgasm already fast approaching and a warmth building in your core. He curls his fingers inside you, pressing hard against your front wall while his thumb rubs your clit in perfect time. Namjoon knows exactly what he’s doing with you, exactly how to work out the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had, and you know you’re headed for one now when your cunt starts to flutter around his hand.

“That’s it, baby.” His voice drips like honey. “Come for me.”

You cry out as your orgasm hits you, your back arching up off the seat. The pressure building in your core reaches its peak and you feel it burst as a wave of arousal rushes out of your cunt and splashes against his hand and your spread thighs. He groans at the sight. His fingers ride you through the aftershocks until you squirm from oversensitivity and he finally relents, releasing his grip on your wrist at the same time.

“Holy shit,” is all you can manage once you’ve come down from your climax, staring dumbly at the ceiling of your car in disbelief, trying to remember how to breathe. Your heart is racing. “That was… oh my god.”

“Still got it.” He says, clearly self-satisfied, and you laugh as he presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone. Namjoon always gets so proud of himself when he makes you squirt. “I think that might be a new record.”

You roll your eyes but you’re still grinning, enjoying the waves of your post-orgasm high. It’s been a long time since you came that hard. “Yeah, yeah, you’re very talented. Shut up and switch with me.”

Shifting positions is made harder by the fact that your legs threaten to give out when you put weight on them, but his hands slide up to your waist to steady you so you don’t fall over. Eventually he resumes his place in the passenger seat, and you kneel down in the small space in front of him, his legs on either side of you.

He lifts his hips up so you can tug his shorts down, and you’re torn between teasing him back as revenge and the overwhelming desire to take him in your mouth immediately. You can already feel your core starting to throb. There’s just something about Namjoon that makes you insatiable. You don’t think you could ever get enough of him.

You trail kisses up the inside of his thigh, biting every so often at the sensitive skin there, delighting in the way his breath hitches each time. Two can play at this game, you think as you press a hand to his stomach, just barely teasing a finger under the band of his boxer-briefs to scratch your nail lightly across his skin. His hips jerk in response and you smile.

You move your hand lower to palm him over his underwear, gripping firmly but keeping your pace slow to torment him. You weren’t just flattering him earlier—his dick is life-ruiningly big, the perfect combination of long and thick, and he’s fully erect under your touch. You want it so bad, your naked cunt is getting slick all over again at the thought.

But first, some retribution.

You still the movement of your hand and place a gentle kiss to the head of his dick through the fabric of his underwear, then gaze up at him innocently. His lips are parted slightly and he’s breathing hard, watching your every move. The way he looks at you like you’re the center of the universe makes your stomach flip.

It feels good to be in control. Keeping eye contact, you lick a slow stripe up the fabric of his boxers and feel the strong muscles in his thighs flex under your hand as he groans a little.

You drop your gaze to take the head of his still-clothed dick in your mouth, resuming the slow pump of one hand over his shaft.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon hisses.

You tug his boxers down his legs, too desperate to see him. His cock looks so good you can feel yourself salivating. The tip of it is already shiny, slick with a mixture of pre-cum and moisture from your teasing. You trace up the large vein on his shaft with the pad of your thumb. When you pause to rub small circles at the extra-sensitive spot right under his head, he lets out a strangled whine.

Encouraged by the sound, you wrap your hand firmly around him and he gasps. You can feel his cock pulse in your hand. You pump him ever-so slowly, working a new bead of precum out of the tip, then lightly run your tongue over him to lick it up.

His hips jerk again and he grunts your name, his voice hoarse.

You lean back on your heels, your hand still wrapped around him, and feign surprise. “Hmm? I’m sorry, did you say something?”

He’s clearly trying to keep the smirk of disbelief off his face, but a telltale dimple gives it away. “Oh my god, you’re so evil.”

You smile at the compliment and finally take him into your mouth; his moan of relief makes your pussy throb. You swallow down as much of his dick as you can and wrap your hand around the rest, bobbing and pumping in a steady motion. His hips start rutting against your mouth in time with your movements.

The way Namjoon is groaning unabashedly now makes your face hot. God, you need to fuck him. You look up and take him as far down your throat as you can, gagging slightly, and he must be able to read the desire in your eyes. He runs a hand through your hair, just barely tugging, and you relent, his dick sliding out of your mouth with a wet pop.

“Get up here,” he growls. You climb into his lap and straddle him, and he kisses you so fervently that your head spins.

His hands slide under your skirt to grab your ass and he pulls you closer. As he does, you realize how soaked you really are, your slit slipping easily along his length. You can barely keep from whimpering at how good it feels, and he’s not even inside you yet. His cock twitches and you shudder, unable to stop yourself from rolling your hips and grinding against him. You’re so turned on, you could come from this alone.

“Keep doing that, baby,” he encourages, and your eyes flutter open as he shifts slightly. He reaches for his discarded shorts, his other hand caressing your thigh as if to apologize for the interruption. After a bit of fumbling he produces a condom, reaching both arms around you to rip it open with shaking hands.

Leaning back, you brace yourself on his legs and lift your hips up so he can slide the latex down his length. Your thighs are trembling hard as his hands move back to your ass and help guide you into place.

It’s been so long, and you want this so badly. You’ve spent more than a few nights in bed with your hand between your legs, playing back the memory of how good he feels, how thoroughly he’s fucked you before. Even after all the anticipation, when you finally, finally sink down on his cock, it’s still somehow better than you remembered.

You have to take a moment to press your face into the crook of his neck as you get accustomed to the stretch of him inside you. His thumbs trace gentle circles along the globes of your ass and it’s enough to get your cunt to fully relax. You spread your knees a little wider and sink down another inch, gasping as he bottoms out in you. You feel impossibly, overwhelmingly full.

Namjoon smiles as you lift your head and bring one hand up, running your thumb along his jawline. He looks so good like this; his face is flushed and his eyes are dark with lust.

“I forgot how well you take my cock,” he says, giving your ass an approving squeeze. “Such a perfect fit.” The praise makes your pussy clench and he groans at the feeling.

His hands slide over your thighs and up to your hips. “Ride me, baby. Please.”

You can feel every inch of him as you brace your hands on his legs and start to rock your hips, and the sensation is so good you can barely form a coherent thought. Heat rises in your belly as you lift up and lean back slightly, and when you ease your hips down, the head of his dick grinds against your sweet spot.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, and you hear him grunt beneath you as you rock your hips in just the same way over and over and over. It feels so fucking good, you never want to stop. The filthy sounds of your slick cunt only bring you that much closer to your end.

Namjoon’s fingers dig into your skin and he thrusts up into you, matching your rhythm. The pleasure is so forceful now that your walls squeeze tightly around his length. “Just like that, baby, fuck.” He sounds absolutely wrecked. “You feel amazing.”

His thumb moves to press your clit under your skirt and you’re practically vibrating with overstimulation, already incredibly close to coming. Your legs shake so badly that you start to lose your rhythm and he takes control, fucking up into you with fast and powerful strokes. The way he pounds into your cunt feels so overwhelmingly good that your jaw drops open and you moan loudly. He only has to circle your clit one, two, three more times before it’s all over.

You can’t do anything but whimper and throw your head back as your orgasm overtakes you. Your arms threaten to give out and you collapse into his chest. The release of pressure is so intense that you see stars as wetness floods your pussy.

You pulse around him again and again and then Namjoon is coming too, groaning your name, his cock twitching inside you.

For several minutes, all you can do is lay against him, your body shuddering as you come down from the high. His hands press gently against the small of your back as reality slowly returns around you.

Your panting dissolves into soft gasps of laughter; you can’t believe that just happened. Fucking Kim Namjoon in your shitty Honda Civic, of all places. What a time to be alive. You nuzzle your nose against his neck and he turns his head to press a kiss to your hairline. “Welcome back,” he murmurs against your hair.

“Wow,” is all you can manage. You feel completely spent, blissed out.

“That was… crazy.” Namjoon sounds just as much at a loss for words as you are. “You’re so incredible.” He rubs small circles into your back and you sigh. You wish he could fuck you like this every day, but you don’t say that part out loud. You know it’s just the post-orgasm chemicals talking.

You turn your head to the side and laugh again as you realize the car windows are completely covered over with fog. He follows your gaze. “At least we don’t have to worry about whether anyone saw us.”

Feeling starts to come back to your limbs. Soreness is already blooming along the muscles in your thighs and your bent knees, but it was so worth it, you can't even be mad. “I think my legs are broken,” you say with a wince.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds so sincere at first that it makes you smile. “Guess you can blame it on this big dick, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but he’s thoroughly fucked the sass out of you, for now at least. You don’t even have it in you to tell him to shut up, so you pull his face to yours and kiss him instead. He sucks gently on your bottom lip and you think your heart might burst.

Once you finally break apart, you rest your head on his chest again. “Hotel time?”

Namjoon brings a hand up to stroke your hair. “Baby, I’ve got some bad news.”

You freeze, and your stomach drops, preparing for the worst. He’s always been a gentleman and let you stay the night, but he’s busier than ever these days, you know that. Maybe things are different now. You will yourself not to react to whatever he says next, post-orgasm chemicals be damned.

“The minibar in this hotel… it’s awful.”

“Oh, fuck you!” You laugh, pushing against his chest and sitting up to see his dimpled grin. He stretches, hands behind his head, his biceps flexing. He’s so handsome. You absolutely hate him and like him way too much all at once. “You have,” he reminds you. “And you will again soon. But I need some real food first.”

You are starving, you realize. You run a finger across his chest and put on your most seductive voice. “Hmm… how about I take you to In-N-Out? We’re gonna need some protein before round two.”

“Alright,” he shrugs. “But I’m paying.”

“Of course you are, sugar daddy.”

He laughs against your mouth as he kisses you.

The Devil Skates on Thin Ice, 3.

Genre | Hockey Player / Figure Skater Rivalry AU.

Pairing | Min Yoongi / Feminine Reader.

Words | 20,254 words.

Conspectus | The number one rule of Korea National Sport University is to never allow their elite figure skater and the captain of the ice hockey team be in the same room. Or in their case, on the same ice rink. They are infamously known for riling each other up in any way possible, and for having a mysterious history that even their closest friends know nothing about.

But when their coaches decide it is finally time to put an end to their five year rivalry, the pair of them certainly have very conflicting views about it.

Warnings | Heavy swearing. Angst. Severe injuries and blood. Mentions of trauma. Hospitals. Implied sexual content. Is there going to be a happy ending, you ask? Well, you will just have to find out for yourself! Also, there are many flashbacks throughout this, which are marked by passages of italics. If the line-breaks between scenes are not working, a new scene is signified by a perspective shift.

Parts | One • Two • Three (Finale)

Keep reading

- Batteries -

Pairing: Roomie!Jimin x Fem Reader

Genre: Smut. Shameless Smut. Roommates To Lovers AU.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, the word dick is used approximately 700 times, Jimin is bi (idk why that would merit a warning but I see others use it so I’ll jump off the bridge bc everyone else does 😂).

Summary: Your sex life has been lackluster, much to the dismay of your roommate, who makes it his mission to show you sex can - and should - be amazing.

A/N: I’ve taken some liberties here with the “why can’t OC reach orgasm” concept for plot reasons obvs - but - let’s normalize the cold hard fact that like 80+ percent of females can’t reach orgasm from penetration alone(🙋‍♀️). It’s not abnormal and doesn’t mean that you should have to fake or ‘push through’ to make a partner with a 🍆 happy. Stimulate that clit ladies, say it loud and have some fun. Ok? Lesssssssgooooooo.

It’s Saturday night, and you’ve had a stressful day. You have the perfect after-work itinerary planned: Brownies, ramen, orange soda, a bubble bath and - you’re vibrator. Which you’ve saved until right before bed so you can buzz yourself into oblivion, then go to sleep.

You twist the end of your phallic friend and…nothing. No. Fucking. Batteries.

You hop up and poke your head out of your bedroom door. Jimin, your roommate, stands over the brownie pan on the counter. His mouth stops chewing the treat and his eyes go wide as saucers as if you’ve caught him committing a murder.

You have no time to scold him for eating your brownies right now.

“Go look in the junk drawer, I need batteries,” you command. He swallows the bite in his mouth and does as he’s told, crossing the tiny kitchen and sliding the drawer open.

“What kind do you need?”

“I need two double A’s,” you answer.

“Wrong answer,” he shakes his head, rummaging through the mess. “We have a shit ton of triple A’s, one 9v for the alarm, and a C. No double A’s.”

You bang your head against the door frame, “Fuck it then,” you sigh in defeat as you collapse on the sofa. Jimin sits down next to you, handing you a brownie.

“What’d you need them for?”

“Nothing,” you mumble through a chewy brownie bite, “You’ll just make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

You shoot him a look, but tell him anyway, “My vibrator is dead.”

“I told you to buy the chargeable one,” he shoves an entire brownie square in his mouth.

“The battery one was cheaper,” you grumble.

“Why don’t you just go out?” he asks, “It’s been months since things fizzled with what’s-his-name, go out and find some dick, my AirPods are charged, I’ll shove’em in and zone out in my room.”

“That’s - no. Besides I want an actual orgasm, I don’t want to fake it so I can rub one out after he leaves,” you frown.

“So don’t fake it.”

“Easier said than done,” you sigh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Nothing, forget it,” you wave him off, “I’m going to bed.”

“No, hold on…are you saying you fake orgasms on the reg?” he teases.

“Shut up Jimin,” you shove his arm away but his fingers are wrapped around your wrist anchoring you to the sofa.

“You do! Was he really that bad in bed?” Jimin laughs, you know he was never a fan of your last boyfriend so he’s probably delighted by this. The problem is that you’re not so sure it was his fault, because if you’re being honest, you’ve faked orgasms with every guy you’ve had sex with. Granted, you’ve not been with many, maybe four or five, but still - it’s something that’s always bothered you about yourself.

“Good. Night.”

“Hey, why are you mad?” he pulls you back down again, “don’t be mad. I wasn’t trying to be mean to you. I just think it’s hilarious because that guy was such an arrogant douche, yet he couldn’t even make you come.”

“I think it’s more of a me problem - I mean yeah, he was a douche - but,” you pause, you’ve never said this out loud to anybody.

“But what?”

“I’ve faked it with everybody I’ve been with.”

Jimin stares at you, brows furrowed, “Everyone?”

You feel like you’re about to die of humiliation as you defensively bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them.

“Yes.”

“___, that sucks.”

“I know!”

“So you’ve never had an orgasm with a guy?”

“No, I have…just ya know…not with his dick.”

“So oral?”

“Yes, I’m good with oral, better even if fingers are involved, but not dick,” you explain miserably, head hidden in your knees.

“Well, are you maybe just…not into dick?” he asks.

You sigh, “you know, I spent a very good portion of my early twenties fixated on that notion, and the conclusion is that I am in fact, into dick. I want dick - when I’m, you know, doing it solo I’m fantasizing about dick. Yet when I get said dick, I just can’t seem to get there.”

“What happens?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. I think maybe I just need way more time than he does.”

“So you’ve been serial fucking minute men?” he teases.

“Maybe? I don’t know! I’m not trying to diss anybody, and it’s not that they were all done in a ridiculously short time span. I think I just start overthinking things, and sometimes I just don’t want to fuck in the position we’re in-,”

“Well don’t you like, vocalize what you want?” he presses.

“Not really…”

“Why the hell not?”

“I don’t know!” you groan, “I think the first guy I was ever with just didn’t care what I wanted, so I stopped asking altogether.”

“So you’ve just been laying there this entire time wishing you were getting fucked a different way but not saying it? I mean, it’s not uncommon for penetration to not be enough, but you should speak up if it’s not getting you there.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine.

“Don’t be sorry, I just…that really, really sucks. Sex should feel good for everyone involved,” Jimin says softly, his hand lands on your shoulder rubbing gentle circles.

“Do all the people you bring home…do you both always finish?”

“I mean…yeah?” he smiles empathetically, “if not then I make sure they do.”

“How?” you wonder.

He chuckles a bit, “I listen.”

“God, I wouldn’t even know what to ask for,” you laugh.

“Start with what you like, what do you like?”

“I…don’t know really,” you shrug. God, this is getting more embarrassing by the second.

“How do you not know?”

“Every guy I’ve been with is satisfied with missionary, so nine times out of ten that’s what we do but clearly it’s not working. I think I’ve tried from behind once or twice but it was awkward and my face just got smushed into the mattress,” you explain, “so I haven’t really experienced enough to ask for anything specific.”

“Oh god ___,” Jimin looks stunned, “you keep opening your mouth and it just keeps getting worse.”

“Shut up!” you pinch his arm, “I’m going to bed, seriously, I can’t talk about this anymore.”

You stand up, jerking your wrist out of his grip, then high tail it to your room.

🔋🔋🔋🔋🔋🔋

You’re twenty minutes into beach sounds when you hear your door open, you look over and see Jimin sneaking in. He crawls up onto your bed and lays on his side, fluffing your pillow up.

You let out a giant sigh, “Are you fucking comfortable yet? By all means, settle in.”

“What about foreplay?” he asks and you stuff your face into your pillow, willing yourself to smother.

“I thought we were over this conversation?” you say, your voice stifled by the fluff.

“I’m just saying, if executed correctly, foreplay can get you like - 75% there, and then you’d be so turned on maybe you wouldn’t overthink things,” he continues, completely ignoring you.

“Do you want me to write this down, or?”

“I’m just trying to help,” he laughs.

“Why? What does it matter to you? You’re over there in your room having mind blowing orgasms and I’m over here in mine wearing my vibrator out. Stay in your lane Park.”

“I could,” he says, “I could stay in my lane. I was thinking though-,”

“Thinking? God help us all,” you groan.

“I was thinking,” he continues, “that you and I could merge lanes.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I mean,” his hand disappears under your blanket and lands on the small of your waist, “you wanted an orgasm, and I’m always down for an orgasm, so I think we could both a have a mutual benefit here.”

“Are you proposing that we fuck?” you ask, sitting up straight.

“Yes.”

“You…want to fuck…me?”

“That is what I’m saying. Yes.”

“Where in the world did this come from?” you laugh.

“We’ve been roommates for two years ___, and I may be into dudes, but I’m also into chicks and if you think I haven’t thought of you while jerking it from time to time then you’re delusional. At the end of the day I’m a 27 year old man with a healthy sexual appetite - I am DTF. Capital F. Don’t make this weird.”

“You kinda already sailed that ship, but okay,” you tell him.

“Why would it be weird?”

“Why would it be weird for us, roommates, to strip naked in front of each other and you put your actual dick inside me? No idea, can’t imagine,” you roll your eyes, inexplicably pulling the blankets up further as if you’re already hiding your body.

Jimin catches this and yanks the covers all the way down to your knees.

“You know what I think?” he says seriously.

“No, but you’re going to tell me anyway,” you look at him.

“I think this goes way further back than your first lay being an idiot. I’ve met your family ___, they were strict and like super religious,” he says.

“Okay?”

“So I bet your whole life it was engrained like a sear in your brain that sex was this awful thing that good girls, like you, shouldn’t enjoy. Bad things happen if you have sex, and God forbid you enjoy it, because then you’re a terrible person,” he guesses.

“Maybe they did,” you shrug, “but I’m not a teenage girl anymore Jimin. I know a little more about the world now than what my parents laid down for me.”

“Yeah, your logical brain knows better, but it’s hard to let years of that indoctrination just evaporate into thin air. It still simmers every time you have sex, this second nature that tells you that you’re doing something bad when you take your clothes off.”

“Maybe, but then why is it no problem for me to orgasm from oral or fingers?” you counter.

“Because oral and fingers aren’t actual, penetrative intercourse. The bad things you were warned about don’t happen from oral and fingers - so you can let your body and your mind relax. You can actually enjoy what you’re supposed to enjoy instead of subconsciously freaking out about disappointing the universe or Jesus or whatever.”

O-okay…he might actually be onto something.

“Okay maybe. Maybe you’re right, I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on an opening-up-emotional-trauma session this evening,” you joke, your go-to deflecting mechanism.

He chuckles, scooting closer to you, he starts twirling pieces of your hair around his fingers and you start to feel warm.

“Always deflecting,” he tuts softly, “what am I going to do with you?”

“I have no idea, and that kind of freaks me out,” you say honestly.

“You don’t need to be freaked out,” he tucks some hair behind your ear, “are you ever freaked out by me?”

You don’t even have to think about it, “No. I’m more comfortable with you then anyone else in the world I think,” you chuckle a bit and he laces his fingers into yours.

He’s very close now, and you wonder how you didn’t notice how good his legs look in the jeans he’s wearing, the knees ripped open and the tops of his thighs nearly bursting the seams. You should’ve complimented his appearance, because they really do look mouthwateringly magnificent. You try to say it now, but you seem to have lost your words as his hand rubs circles into your lower back.

“Do you want me to make you feel good ___?” he asks quietly, his breath hitting the shell of your ear, sending shudders across your skin.

Another one you suddenly don’t have to think about very hard, “Yes, I do,” you answer softly.

He touches your chin with his finger tips and pulls your face toward his gently. His lips brush over yours and they’re soft, so fucking soft, that you instantly melt into the warmth. It’s a mild kiss, mouths open but no tongue, not yet. You wager he’s going to take his time with you and the thought makes something tingle in the pit of your abdomen.

You thought it would be weird. In your mind, kissing or doing anything with your roommate would be weird. Yet nothing about his lips moving on yours, his hands roaming your sides and the tops of your legs, nothing is weird. It’s effortless actually. That’s Jimin, you can’t help but think, he’s walking talking comfort in tight jeans and an oversized hoodie.

He pulls away, and he drags his hoodie and tee shirt off, gently tossing them into your bedroom floor. You’ve seen him shirtless more times than you can count. So you’re not surprised to see the defined muscles in his chest, or the sharp, distinct lines on his abdomen that disappear into the band of his underwear - that peaks out of the top of those tight jeans. Nope. Not surprising, yet it still feels brand new. That tingly feeling appears again as you stare.

“Lay back,” he instructs softly and you relax back into your pillows as his chest presses against yours, his lips finding yours again.

This time there is tongue. He rolls his against yours gently, still going slow, taking his time as if he’s letting you properly adjust to every new sensation. It’s appreciated, mainly because it feels good and you want to relish in it anyway.

The hand that isn’t propping himself up starts roaming. Skimming the tops of your legs, caressing over your hip, which he squeezes gently and it sends another tingle. You’re not sure what to do with your hands but you want to touch him, and since he’s making all this about you, you do. You place one hand on the back of his neck, playing with his dark hair that’s getting a bit long. The other hand you press to his chest, running your fingers over all those lines that, admittedly, you always wondered what would feel like. Hard, but also soft and so very warm, turns out.

“Can I touch you too?” he asks, his palm disappearing under your tee shirt, spreading out over your soft tummy. You were ready for bed, so there’s no bra to remove, and the only other thing you wear is a pair of soft cotton boy-shorts.

“Yes,” you nod, putting your hand over his underneath your shirt to squeeze.

His fingertips run along the curves of your torso, tickling soft trails that leave goosebumps in their wake. His mouth still moves on yours, tongues still rolling together, but it’s getting quicker, there’s more desperation now.

When his fingers flit over one of your breasts, you pause your mouth, which he immediately notices.

“Do you like this? Getting your tits played with? Does it feel good?” he asks, gently kneading the fleshy mound, he rubs his thumb over your nipple.

You nod.

“Tell me what you like about it,” he commands softly.

“Huh? I don’t know…it feels good though…” you stammer.

He smiles, shaking his head back and forth, “Nuh-uh. I want you to tell me specifically. Vocalize,” he says.

“I…liked it when you touched my nipple,” you tell him and despite your face feeling hot, it’s still okay because it’s him. You’re just talking to Jimin, and he’s your comfort person.

“Good, like this?” he sweeps the pad of his thumb gently over your nipple again. “I could be a bit rougher if you want, like this,” he takes the stiff bud between his thumb and index finger and squeezes. It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t send any more tingles to your nether regions either.

You shake your head, “I like the soft rubbing better.”

“Perfect,” he smiles, resuming gentle touches over the bud, moving and manipulating it in circles, you can feel the nerves stimulated every time he drags his thumb over it and you start to breathe heavier.

“Can I take your tee shirt off?”

“Yes,” you answer with zero hesitation, sitting up with your arms stretched so he can help you out. He discards it in the same area where his clothes lay and lays you back down.

“Do you think,” he kisses you softly, “that you’d like it if I moved my tongue the same way over your nipple?” he asks.

“Yes, I would,” you answer in a hushed breath.

He grins, then captures your mouth once more before moving to your jaw. He moves further, tongue and lips working the sensitive skin on your neck. Your lips feel tingly as you bite down, one hand playing with your sheets and the other still in Jimins hair.

His mouth moves across your chest, leaving long wet kisses on the flesh of your breasts, his breath teasing your nipples until you arch your back to try and meet his mouth.

“Do you want my tongue on your nipples?” he smirks.

“Mmhmm,” you whimper, nodding your head.

He resumes his kisses, licking long stripes over your mounds. Finally, he flicks his tongue over one of your stiff buds. You gasp, tightening your fingers in his hair.

Your hips start moving, seemingly on their own accord, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your breast.

“I really like your tits,” he shares between licks.

You let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah? Im kinda attached to them.”

“Is this good? What I’m doing?” he asks.

“It’s very good, yes,” you answer, twirling his hair.

“What about…something like this?”

He pulls a nipple between his lips and sucks gently, his tongue lapping against it as well.

Your hips buck, “oh…yeah…fuck.”

He hums, an approving cadence to the noise, and his hand comes down on your hip to settle it.

He mirrors the same action on the other nipple, switching between his nimble fingers and expert tongue until you feel like you want to explode.

“I’m going to take my jeans off,” he pops off your nipple, both your breasts shining in the lamp light from his saliva. “They’re getting a little uncomfortable,” he chuckles rising up to his feet at the bedside.

He goes slow, unbuttoning and unzipping at an agonizing pace that probably rivals a top dollar strip tease. He drags his jeans down his thick thighs, cock swollen and hard under the black cotton of his boxer briefs.

Then he’s back on the bed, on his knees between your legs.

“I want to take your panties off,” he says, fingertips creeping up your thighs, playing with the stretchy seams of your shorts.

“Okay.”

You lay back down, lifting your hips slightly as he hooks his fingers and pulls. He removes your shorts just as slowly as he removed his jeans, and you watch him suck his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes roaming over your legs and your cunt, all the way back up to your face.

“Gorgeous,” he remarks, leaning back down to kiss you again. You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands explore new areas. He slides his palm under your ass and lifts up so your bare core pushes against his hard bulge.

“Touch me,” you request, guiding his fingers to your middle, beyond ready to feel him touch your most vulnerable places.

“How do you want me to touch you?”

“Y— your fingers, here,” you say shakily.

“Yes,” he chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose, “I figured I’d touch you with my fingers…but how? Hm? This?” he asks, slipping his middle finger through your slick and gently pushing it inside.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, your head falling back onto the pillow.

He pumps you, slow, adding his index finger after a few moments, but then he pulls out.

“Maybe this?”

He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and creates quick circles. Slippery, wet noises ring out into the open space.

“Mmm, that’s good too,” you whimper.

“You’re so fucking wet, it’s really hot,” he says, “you said you’re good with oral?”

He looks up at you, gently caressing your slit.

“I- yeah, yes,” you answer softly.

“Mmm,” he licks his bottom lip, “can I taste you?”

“Yes, god yes.”

He smiles, brushing his thumb over your clit a few more times.

You’re starting to feel like you have a steady stream of arousal pooling out of you as he sits back on his knees, pulling one of your legs up so he can kiss and suck your ankle. Then the inside of your calf, he dips his tongue into the delicate skin behind your knee and you get more goosebumps, your fingers disappearing in blankets.

“Jimin…” you moan his name as he licks and nips his way up your leg.

He pauses, your leg draped over his shoulder, “Yes?”

“It just feels really good, fuck,” you sigh.

“Mmm, agreed,” he ducks his head down and peppers loud kisses all around your cunt. You squirm beneath him.

“I’m going to eat you out,” he says, his breath against your open heat, “but don’t you dare cum. You have to tell me when you’re close, okay?”

You nod frantically.

“Say it. Use words,” he commands, pressing his lips to your clit in a ghost of a kiss.

You hiss, “Okay! I’ll tell you, I won’t cum, I’ll tell you!”

“Good girl. You’re doing so good,” he praises, “so very good. You’re gonna save your cum for my fucking cock, isn’t that right?” he asks, licking a languid stripe up your slit, hovering over your clitoris in soft flicks.

“Mmhmm,” you screw your eyes shut, mouth parted as heavy breaths escape.

He toys with you, spreading you open and experimenting with his tongue. Slow licks, quick ones, his tongue painting obscene patterns all over your cunt.

“What feels good? Tell me how to fuck you with my mouth,” he whispers against your thigh.

“I…mmm…I like it when you swirl it over my entrance, and, drag all that wetness up with your tongue over my clit really soft,” you answer.

“Yeah? Like this?”

He re-enacts your request to the letter, fucking flawless execution.

“Oh god…fuck! Just like that,” you groan breathlessly.

He moans against your heat and shoves your thighs up so they nearly touch your chest, his tongue working you all over.

You’re falling apart on the inside and he’s putting you back together with his mouth. It feels so fucking good you almost neglect to mention your on the precipice of a fucking phenomenal orgasm, but you are too intrigued by what he wants to do to you.

“Jimin! Ah…I’m right there, please, I’m gonna…”

“Nuh-uh,” he pulls off of you, your insides screeching to a stunning halt. You can practically hear your pussy going into fits.

You’re panting. You feel hot all over and your heart is pounding.

You watch as he leans over the edge of the bed, pulling your drawer open for a condom.

“Now,” he looks down at you as he drops his underwear, tearing the corner of the condom wrapper with his teeth and spitting the bit some unseen place - god damn why is that so hot?

“I know you probably think missionary is pointless, but, I got a few tricks up my sleeve,” he pumps his leaking cock with his fist a few times before rolling the latex down his length, “do you trust me?”

“Y—yeah, I trust you,” you nod.

“Good.”

He crawls back onto the bed and grabs a few of your pillows.

“Lift your hips up,” he instructs and you happily do as you’re told.

“You’re gonna cum for me,” he says, running the head of his cock between your slick folds, teasing your entrance. You whimper beneath him as he stuffs the pillows beneath your ass, your hips angled higher off the bed.

“If you’re not getting anything from it, you’re gonna tell me, do you understand?”

“I understand,” you nod.

He caresses the tops of your thighs, then takes his dick in his hand and presses it to your opening, pushing in slow so you feel every millimeter pushing through your entrance.

He’s deliciously thick, the stretch is satisfying and you groan, a guttural hum in your chest when he bottoms out, skin meeting skin.

Then he pulls back out just as slow and repeats, going the tiniest bit faster and harder with each thrust.

“Is it good?”

“Yes.”

“How does it feel?” he asks continuing to thrust you.

“It feels better than any other time,” you tell him honestly.

“But it’s not going to make you cum?”

You bite down on your lip, “I don’t think so, no.”

“Mmk, so how about this,” he grabs your hand and pulls your fingers towards your center, pausing his thrusts with his cock deep inside. “You get yourself off with your fingers sometimes, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer.

“Show me how you do it, relax, breathe, close your eyes if you need to, and show me how you work those pretty fingers on your cunt, I wanna see.”

“Okay…”

You begin, Jimins cock still inside you, still filling you up, as he massages and squeezes your thighs and hips. You do what you always do, except now you don’t need to conjure up some random fantasy - the fantasy has his dick balls deep in your pussy, and he’s panting and touching and very, very real.

You play with speed and pattern until you feel it, the little tingle that he ignited earlier, the same familiar beginning to a much bigger explosion you get on your own but it’s more, it’s heavier with his cock inside you. You keep going, your lips parted now, your hips start moving and Jimin rocks in tune with you.

“There it is, keep going, fuck it’s so hot,” he grunts, squeezing your hips as he matches pace with you.

You go faster, a little harder, because it’s starting to turn into something bigger. It’s starting to feel like something you need to chase so you rock your hips harder, quicker against your own fingers and the way Jimins cock drags in and out against your spongey sensitivity.

The pillows, this angle, it’s the most random thing you think. It almost feels silly even - but the way he’s rocking into you, the snap of his hips are calculated and intentional. Fuck. You rub harder.

“Jimin…”

“Feels good? Are you getting off?”

“I’m so close, so fucking close,” you whisper, your hips grinding up to meet him. He’s going hard, and fast, now too and it feels so good. So fucking good.

“That’s it, your gonna cum for me, make a fucking mess on my cock baby,” he grits, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your legs as he drags himself in and out of you.

You’re there, you open your legs wider for him and your hands jerk up to clutch at your tits, squeezing and twisting as you cry out, your cunt contracting in spastic rhythm.

“Oh fuck yes…” his hips thrust against you sharply a few more times, then he stills above you breathlessly as he throbs and spills into the condom.

“Holy shit,” you finally breathe. You came. You fucking had an orgasm getting dicked down. Jimin fucked you to an actual orgasm.

“Fuck, you did so good,” he lowers himself down, trapping you between his arms and puts his mouth on yours.

“Me?” you giggle, “you! Fuck that felt so good, all of it. The making out, the tits - fuck my skin feels like it’s on fire still.”

He laughs against you.

“Was it better than your vibrator?” he teases, rolling you onto him so you straddle his body.

“Oh my god, yes. Fuck batteries, I’ll just -,” you stop, your eyes snapping to his. He smiles, as if he already knows you were about to say ‘I’ll just use you’ but that sounds all kinds of wrong.

“We can do that anytime,” he chuckles, swipes a piece of hair off your forehead. “Remember I said I’ve thought about you from time to time?”

“Mmhmm,” you lay your head on his chest, outlining the edges of his tattoos with your fingertip.

“It’s probably a bit more frequently than that,” he chuckles, tightening his squeeze around you, “so yeah, anytime - I’m on board.”

You smile shyly, pecking a kiss to his lips.

“Thank you,” you look up at him, “I know that’s a weird thing to say after sex, but seriously, I’ve spent years thinking I’m defective and doomed to fake orgasms my whole life.”

“There is nothing defective about you ___, you’re amazing, you just needed to open up, that’s all.”

“How’d I luck out with such a roomie, hm?”

“You were the least serial killer-ish person who called,” he laughs and you join him.

“Jokes on you then,” you reach over to turn your lamp off, “I’ve been a killer this whole time. It’s the long con,” you laugh, snuggling into him.

“Mmm, don’t kill the guy that just fucked your brains out, I’m useful.”

“Fair enough, I’ll keep you.”

“Good.”

T H E E N D

Endnotes:

1. Did I post a fic literally two days ago? Yes. Did I also say like last week that I wanted to slow down? Also yes. Are either of the fics l’ve posted requests that I ought to be tidying up? No. Send help.

the eros pact | kth |

↠ a series of drabbles in which you ask your best friend for some serious help. ↞

◦ summary :: you and Taehyung have been friends forever and roommates as of recently. you have a stupidly big crush on Taehyung’s close friend, Seokjin, but he has a girlfriend. feeling tired of using a toy and fantasizing about this forbidden love, you opt for something new. you devise a plan that happened to include your dearest friend with hopes that it could help you both.

◦ pairing :: taehyung x female reader

◦ rating :: 18+

◦ genre :: roommates!au, non-idol!au, mature content, angst, smut, best friends to lovers

◦ status :: completed ✔️

◦ masterlist

↠ notes // hellooo. so this idea came to me after seeing one too many pictures of this fine man. I didn’t want this to be a full series, considering the plot line is relatively short, so I’m considering it a mini series. or just a series of drabbles as stated before. I’m not sure how many “chapters” it will be, but I hope you guys enjoy this! also, I wrote this with a curvy y/n in mind, not that it changes much of the plot but there will be some mentioning of it in some parts.

↣ part one

↣ part two

↣ part three

↣ part four

↣ part five

↣ part six

↣ part seven

↣ part eight

↣ part nine

↣ part ten

⊶ small tuna fish (m). ⊷

Kim Seokjin is a really nice guy. (Not to be confused with a ‘Nice Guy’). Too nice for someone like you, you’re sure. Which is why you’ve been attempting to ignore what’s going on between you. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with you. He couldn’t possibly like you. Could he? 

It the end, it takes one charity car wash event and one – or two, depending on how dirty your mind is – soakings to make things very clear. 

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader  au/genre; college au, friends to lovers, romance, smut  warnings/notes; inexperienced! jin, kissing, so much kissing, groping, dry humping, lots of cute reassuring, this jin might be more of a boob man (shock horror), oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, protected sex, sweet and soft, jin has a big dick (don’t let the title mislead you lol)  words; 17,103

listen to; blanket kick 

author’s note; thank you to @tan-dulset​ 💖 I can always count on you to shower me with ideas and inspiration! This wouldn’t exist without you <3 I hope everyone enjoys because I had great fun writing it! (And FYI, Seokjin is inexperienced because his dick’s too big lmao poor baby 🤧) Also, yes, I am highly aware of how much the word count grew… who is even surprised anymore 🤣

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