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Proof: Personality Related or Odd Facts

random questions for fellow army content creators

💿 CD1 💿

CD1-01. Born Singer 🎧 What is your favorite song to sing in the shower or car?

CD1-02. No More Dream 🎧 What is the most bizarre dream you have ever had?

CD1-03. N.O 🎧 A food that absolutely grosses you out.

💿 more under the cut 💿

CD1-04. Boy in Luv 🎧 Tell me your favorite pickup line.

CD1-05. Danger 🎧 If you were a ghost, who would you haunt?

CD1-06. I NEED U 🎧 What is your favorite scent or perfume/cologne?

CD1-07. RUN 🎧 What is one item on your bucket list?

CD1-08. Burning Up (FIRE) 🎧 What quote resonates most with you?

CD1-09. Blood Sweat & Tears 🎧 What was your favorite college class?

CD1-10. Spring Day 🎧 What personal quality do you want to improve most about yourself?

CD1-11. DNA 🎧 What was the craziest thing you did as a child?

CD1-12. FAKE LOVE 🎧 What is your comfort movie?

CD1-13. IDOL 🎧 Who did you idolize growing up?

CD1-14. Boy With Luv (Feat. Halsey) 🎧 Whose opinion(s) do you value most?

CD1-15. ON 🎧 Tell me a hidden talent that people don't know about.

CD1-16. Dynamite 🎧 What kind of things do you like receiving as gifts?

CD1-17. Life Goes On 🎧 If you forgot all of your memories except one, what would it be?

CD1-18. Butter 🎧 What is your ideal job?

CD1-19. Yet to Come (The Most Beautiful Moment) 🎧 What is your favorite BTS song?

💿 CD2 💿

CD2-01. Run BTS 🎧 What is something that keeps you up at night?

CD2-02. Intro : Persona 🎧 What tv show would you like to live?

CD2-03. Stay 🎧 What is your tragic, most fatal flaw? Be honest.

CD2-04. Moon 🎧 Tell me about your worst nightmare/bad dream.

CD2-05. Jamais Vu 🎧 What taboo topic are your fascinated by?

CD2-06. Trivia 轉 : Seesaw 🎧 Who are you in your friend group?

CD2-07. BTS Cypher PT.3 : KILLER (Feat. Supreme Boi) 🎧 What is your biggest pet peeve?

CD2-08. Outro : Ego 🎧 Are you true to yourself?

CD2-09. Her 🎧 If you could dye your hair any color, what would you choose?

CD2-10. Filter 🎧 Describe your favorite outfit in great detail.

CD2-11. Friends 🎧 Do you have a big group of friends or a really tight circle?

CD2-12. Singularity 🎧 What is your favorite zodiac sign that isn't your own?

CD2-13. 00:00 (Zero O’Clock) 🎧 Tell me your coffee or tea order.

CD2-14. Euphoria 🎧 Which celebrity would you like to go on a vacation with, and where to?

CD2-15. Dimple 🎧 What is your favorite physical feature on a person, romantic or otherwise?

💿 CD3 💿

CD3-01. Jump (Demo Ver.) 🎧 What is your favorite holiday to celebrate?

CD3-02. Young Love 🎧 What is something you don't question spending money on?

CD3-03. Boy in Luv (Demo Ver.) 🎧 Do you collect anything? What?

CD3-04. Quotation Mark 🎧 Pick a theme song for yourself.

CD3-05. I NEED U (Demo Ver.) 🎧 What is your favorite book of all time?

CD3-06. Boyz With Fun (Demo Ver.) 🎧 What is the worst way someone has butchered your name?

CD3-07. Tony Montana (with Jimin) 🎧 What would you do if your pet suddenly started talking?

CD3-08. Young Forever (RM Demo Ver.) 🎧 Which family member are you closest to?

CD3-09. Spring Day (V Demo Ver) 🎧 Where is your happy place?

CD3-10. DNA (j-hope Demo Ver.) 🎧 Do you have any siblings?

CD3-11. Epiphany (Jin Demo Ver.) 🎧 If you have to get a tattoo today, what would you get?

CD3-12. Seesaw (Demo Ver.) 🎧 Who was the most embarrassing crush you have ever had?

CD3-13. Still With You (A cappella) 🎧 Tell me the most fascinating fact you know.

CD3-14. For Youth 🎧 What is your Hogwarts house?

The Choreographer - Part 3

Jungkook x Reader x Jimin

Summary: As the assistant choreographer for BTS, you are often responsible for helping the guys rehearse one-on-one. Professional and courteous as you try to act on the job, there is no denying that deep within you lies a submissive, thirsty slut, dying to come out and play. Everyone knows scandal would cost you your job, but sometimes the tension can become unbearable.

It’s too bad. But it’s too sweet.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Grinding, drinking, partying, jealousy, angst, fluff, forbidden affairs, fingering, oral (f receiving), foul language, light bondage, spanking, very rough sex, D/s dynamic, unprotected sex, and honestly so much smut written in great detail. Seriously the plot disintegrates 3k words in and the last 2k words are 100% filthy smut. 

Word count: 5.7k

Masterlist

 The next morning, you awoke to the sound of your alarm. Feeling a little hazy, but otherwise fine, you reached for the glass of water Jimin had left on your nightstand and chugged it. Thank god he had forced you to take that Tylenol and rehydrate yourself before you went to sleep last night, or else you’d be feeling much worse for the wear today.

You checked your phone and saw another text from Jimin.

[Jimin: 11:01] Good morning :) How are you feeling today?

[You: 11:03] Pretty decent. Thanks for taking care of me.

[Jimin: 11:06] Happy to hear. See you at the venue.

You rested your head on your knees. It was sweet of him to check up on you. It seemed like things were relatively fine between the two of you, even after you had made a drunken fool of yourself. What were you thinking, trying to pull that shit on Jimin? Not only could it damage your professional reputation had he not been so gracious, but it could cause issues between him and Jungkook.

That is, if it hasn’t already. True, at the time Jungkook had his outburst, nothing had even happened between you and Jimin. But that was no longer the case, and you shuddered at what his reaction would be if he ever found out, considering how upset he got with you for just sitting next to Jimin. You also missed him. He had only given you a small taste of how good it was, and you craved more. After last night however, that didn’t seem likely. Somehow, you had managed to fuck it up already.

The whole thing was turning into a mess. You didn’t know how you were going to make it through the day without some sort of confrontation. You knew you had to play nice—both men had the ability to single-handedly end your career if either of them reported your actions to your superiors. Even though Jungkook had reciprocated, it was your word against his should something come up.

As you drove to the venue, your nerves only worsened. You tried to pull yourself together, remembering that you needed to focus and assist with optimizing the spacing on stage to provide the best visuals for the cameras.

You arrived well before Mr. Son and the boys, hoping to do the majority of your planning without distraction. When you were happy with your decisions on the stage layout, you took a spot near the back of the venue, trying your best to blend in with the dark corner as you waited for everyone to arrive.

Jimin was the first to see you, walking over and giving you a warm hug as soon as he entered the staging area. Jungkook was still backstage somewhere.

“Can we talk privately?” you asked. He nodded and followed you as you led him into a stairwell.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Well before I get into it, I wanted to thank you again for taking care of me last night. I was in poor shape.”

“It really wasn’t a problem,” he said sincerely.

You hesitated, not knowing how best to articulate the next part.

“And I also wanted to thank you for stopping.”

“Stopping what?” he asked innocently. You paused again, clearly uncomfortable with verbally acknowledging it. He noticed and took your hand in his.

“I understand. Really, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m really sorry. I was acting stupid. I had too much to drink and have just been going through some shit,” you admitted. Saying it out loud made it all the more real, and you felt a bitterness well up.

“Guy problems still bothering you?” he asked, referring to the conversation you had yesterday.

You looked at the ceiling and did your best to blink back tears. He wrapped his comforting arms around you and stroked your head. “It’ll be okay. I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about how much of an idiot I was last night?” you whispered into his shoulder.

“You’re not an idiot,” he protested. “But I promise. Not a word.”

You stood there, lingering in his embrace and savoring his warmth for a few moments before you went back in to join the others for rehearsal. Jungkook noticed you two walking in together.

“Fucking unbelievable,” you thought you heard him mutter under his breath, causing you to clench your jaw in an effort to hold your tongue. You would sort it out later. Now was not the right time.

Somehow, you were able to make it through the dry runs and the performance, helping out where needed and adjusting the spacing to make the best use of the stage. You watched from the wings as your boys pulled off the dance moves flawlessly, causing you to swell with pride.

Jimin moved gracefully across the stage with ease, looking as polished as ever. He had some of the best technical skills you’ve seen from an idol. His movements were fluid and his form was perfect.

You turned your attention to Jungkook. As angry as you were with him, you had to admit he was undeniably sexy. His toned body moved effortlessly through the choreography as if he were born to perform it. He maintained phenomenal breath control, not letting the complicated steps affect his pitch in the least. Try as you might, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him, even if doing so was turning your personal and professional life upside down.

After the performance was over, everyone celebrated backstage at what a success it had been. Jimin came over and wrapped you in yet another one of his signature hugs.

“You all were amazing,” you said, addressing the group as a whole. Jimin beamed. They continued to congratulate each other on a job well done, and you slipped away to pack up your things quietly, hoping to make your escape in peace. Jungkook was still giving you the cold shoulder and the last thing you wanted was another confrontation in front of the others.

“After party at the dorm,” Jimin’s voice came from behind you, startling you only slightly, “you in?”

He batted his eyelashes in a successful attempt to look cute. You suspected there would be some sort of after party. It was normal occurrence after comeback performances. But you thought it was better if you skipped this one. They tended to get pretty rowdy, and you could imagine what problems could arise when you threw your colleagues, your hookups, and yourself in a room together and added alcohol into the mix.

“Thanks, but I better not. I don’t want a repeat of last night.”

“What if I get drunk and try to kiss Hobi? Would that make you feel better?” he asked, causing you to snort in an attempt to hold back your laugh.

“I don’t know, Jimin…” He grabbed your hand and looked you in the eyes.

“I’d really like for you to come,” he said sincerely, “even if it’s just for an hour. Everyone should be there to celebrate.”

He was very good at being persuasive.

You sighed and gave in, playfully shoving Jimin out of the way. “Fine. I guess.”

_______________

You arrived a little late to the party, stopping home first to change out of your sweaty dance attire and into something more fitting for the setting. Something that might catch Jungkook’s attention. Having strapped on some heels to show off how your toned legs looked in high-waisted shorts, you felt confident walking in.

The push-up bra was a nice touch. Usually your breasts were well-hidden beneath a sports bra. Tonight, your cleavage was on full display in a low-cut tank top. You had even a subtle smoky eye, which was a look you didn’t often get to wear with your job. You hoped if you looked hot enough, he may regret shutting you out.

As you walked in, the party was already well underway. Different members of the staff and crew were sharing drinks with the boys, and it appeared as if everyone already had a few in them.

“Hey, you made it!” Namjoon exclaimed, walking over to you and handing you a drink. “I’m happy you came.”

You smiled graciously and accepted the drink, even though you weren’t planning on drinking. You figured you could dump it and replace it with water anyway. Always gracious hosts, they guys could be a little pushy sometimes, insisting you partake in whatever food or drink they offered. A decoy drink would prevent that.  

It was probably good that you came out. You didn’t want drama with Jungkook to affect your friendships with everyone else. When Namjoon was pulled back into the crowd by some friends, you took a seat on one of the stools lining the kitchen island which had been converted into a makeshift bar. Pretending to nurse your beer, you scanned the crowd of faces before you. As you suspected, Jungkook was pretending not to notice you, while still glancing over in your direction every so often. Most likely watching for Jimin’s presence.

You were tempted to approach him, but you weren’t sure what to say, so you decided to join the small crowd dancing in the center of the living room. It wasn’t often that you got to dance for fun. Usually it was work.

Taehyung was at the center, clearly enjoying himself and moving along to the music. He saw you and motioned for you to join him, which you did happily. Finally, someone with whom you had no tension. You both danced about innocently enough, though you exaggerated the swaying of your hips when you noticed Jungkook’s eyes on you. He bit his lip, and you smiled to yourself, knowing your efforts were working.

Eventually, he gave in and came to join you on the dance floor. He placed his hands on your hips and swayed along with you. Your skin felt like it was on fire under his touch. The heat of his body reignited the spark of lust within you once again. Your eyes lingered on his chest, wishing you could tear his shirt off him.

The party was filled with your coworkers and acquaintances, all of whom had the no-scandals rule drilled into them multiple times. Though most of them were drunk, you couldn’t risk getting handsy with him beyond what could reasonably pass for dancing. It took everything within you to keep from crashing your mouth into his when his thumbs dug into the grooves between your hip bones. As weird as it had been with him lately, there was no denying the unspoken sexual energy between you.

He gazed at you intensely with parted lips, and you clutched his shoulders a little tighter. The two of you moved in unison, much the way you had back in the practice room on the floor. He leaned in to whisper, close enough that his lips brushed your ear, making sure only you could hear him.

“If we were alone, I’d bend you over this couch and fuck you until you screamed my name.”

You whimpered, unable to control the arousal that was stirring inside you. He inched his body closer to yours. The crowd around you had become so thick that nobody noticed when he pressed his thigh between your legs.

In your head, you saw flashbacks of the other night, straddling his thigh and writhing in pleasure as he fingered you. He knew exactly where your mind had gone. He gripped your hips harder and rolled your lower body into his, so his leg rubbed against your cunt briefly, before he was back in a normal stance, dancing with you casually.

The song ended, and Jungkook smirked, leaning in once again to whisper.

“I can tell you’re trying to hide how wet you are. Enjoy the party.”

Just like that, he was off to refill his drink, leaving you a sweaty, panting mess. Jungkook had only been reminding you how desperate you were for his cock to fill you again. He meant to get you hot and bothered, but you didn’t know if he was actually planning on doing anything about it, or if he was punishing you.

Mind reeling, you decided to step out on the balcony to catch your breath. Taking in the cool night air, you leaned against the railing and tried to steady yourself. Everyone else was inside, so the solitude afforded you the opportunity to clear your head of all the hormones that had been taking you for a ride.

What kind of game was Jungkook playing? Was he over his jealousy? Was he too turned on to care? Or was he trying to steal your attention back to himself after you had been spending more time with Jimin? You weren’t sure of his motivations, but you secretly hoped he would continue, missing the feeling of his thigh between your legs…

“Everything okay?” a voice broke you out of your thoughts. You turned to look at its owner and saw Jimin stepping out and sliding the door closed after him. He smiled and handed you a glass of wine, which you tentatively accepted.

“Cheers,” he said, clinking your glass with his before taking a sip. He seemed just a little tipsy. You nursed yours reluctantly, half wanting to throw it back and forget the thoughts that had been plaguing you, and half knowing you should remain sober enough to drive home. Staying could mean trouble. One way or another.

“So…?” he asked, breaking you out of your thoughts once again. You raised your eyebrows in question.. “You never answered. Everything okay with you?”

“Oh,” you said, casually shrugging off his concern. “Yeah, everything’s perfect. Just needed some fresh air, you know.” He gave you a look that hinted at disbelief. “Hey, great job again today,” you continued, turning the focus back on him.

He gave a sheepish grin. “Thanks. I feel like it went well.” His hand went up to rub the back of his neck, and he looked away.

“Looked flawless from where I was standing.”

“I’m glad you made it,” he said, changing the subject once again. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to show.”

“I stopped back home to change.”

“I noticed,” he said, and stepped back to look you up and down. “Very nice.”

You hoped the blush on your cheeks could be attributed to the wine as you looked away and took a second sip, not knowing how to respond.

“You know, I keep thinking about last night,” he said, after a while.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. “Yeah. Sorry again—”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he cut you off before you could go on. You waited patiently while he thought for a moment, trying to find the right words.

“I was thinking about what might have happened if the situation was different.”

“If I wasn’t drunk, or if you hadn’t left?”

“Either, I guess.”

You looked at him, and he raised an eyebrow, wanting you to fill in the blanks.

“Probably something stupid,” you said, taking another sip of wine.

“How stupid?”

“Pretty fucking stupid.”

He stepped in to close some of the distance between you. “Stupid can be fun,” he said in a low voice, just barely above a whisper.

You ran your fingers along the rim of your glass, feeling hot under his gaze and the implications behind his words. Just then, the glass door slid open and Jungkook stepped through.

He stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of the two of you. “Oh,” he said, and abruptly walked back inside. You watched through the glass as he grabbed one of the makeup artists and started dancing with her.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered and sighed in frustration, turning back around so you could avoid watching the spectacle taking place inside. Jimin looked confused.

“I take it you didn’t smooth things over?”

“Apparently not,” you said, and downed the rest of your drink.

“You know, that’s a vintage Bordeaux. Not really meant to be chugged,” he pointed out with a chuckle, amused by your sudden interest in intoxication.

“I need a refill,” you said flatly, and Jimin followed you back inside as you headed to the display of booze on the island. You avoided looking at Jungkook grinding on the makeup artist as you passed. Jimin didn’t pry any further, instead taking your glass and replacing it with a plastic cup filled with beer.

“If you’re looking to pound something, look no further.” Your eyes widened in surprise at his forwardness.

“The beer,” he clarified with a smirk, understanding where your mind had gone.

“Oh. Right.” You took the drink and downed half of it, not sure how to recover from that.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked.

Rather than answer, you slammed the rest of your drink back and grabbed his hand and led him out onto the dance floor. You pulled his body in close and felt his arm wrap around your waist. Feeling the booze finally hit your system, you let your inhibitions slip away, and began moving your body against his.

Both wanting to piss Jungkook off and wanting to forget about him altogether, you displayed your most suggestive dance skills, twerking and gyrating all over Jimin, who eagerly matched the seductiveness of your movements with his own. He pulled you in closer to him, trying to hide the amusement apparent on his face.

Licking his lips, he stared down at you intensely. “Do you want another drink?” he asked over the music. You nodded.

“If you have one, will you be okay to drive?” You shook your head.

“Do you have a ride?” he followed up. Again, you shook your head.

He paused before he continued, looking around to see if anyone was watching. He leaned in so only you could hear him.

“Do you want to stay here?” You said nothing, but the way your grip on his back tightened answered his question. He bit his lip and held your hips a little tighter. He surveyed the room, searching for any prying eyes, but everyone was too far gone by that point.

You ducked down beneath the crowd as he led you away from the main area, down the hall, and up a flight of stairs before finally stopping at the door of his bedroom. He unlocked it and allowed you to step inside first.

You studied the room. A partition divided the space between his and Hoseok’s sides, but he still locked the door behind him to keep his roommate from walking in. You sat on his bed while he fiddled with his speakers, finding appropriate music to complement the mood.

“Wait here,” he said, and he walked back out the door, leaving you alone for a moment to catch your breath. You looked around his room at the various photos and decorations lining the shelves. His taste in décor was both cute and artistic you noted, before your eyes landed on a picture of him and Jungkook. You chose to ignore the nagging thought that you may be damaging their friendship. You could be a better person tomorrow. Now was not the time, nor the place. Tonight was for making mistakes.

Jimin returned shortly, carrying two large wine glasses and a bottle of wine. “Sorry it took so long,” he said and handed you a glass. “I wanted to make sure nobody saw me.” He uncorked the bottle with his teeth before pouring you a generous amount of wine. He poured one for himself as well and leaned on the desk across from you.

“Before we get too carried away,” he started, “are you sober enough to be making decisions about these things?” he asked.

You nodded. “I know what I’m doing.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay with this?” You nodded again.

“And you?” you asked, before taking long sip from your glass. You knew he had been drinking too. Probably more than you had been.

“I’ve wanted this for a while,” he answered, drinking deeply from his own glass.

“My turn,” you said. “I need to know. Does this mean anything to you?”

He pondered for a minute, trying to read your expression, and took another drink before answering. “You and I both know that it can’t mean anything. Not under these circumstances.”

That’s what you had wanted to hear. As much as you liked him, you both knew the situation you were in. At least Jimin would be able to handle it.

It didn’t take long for you to down the rest of your wine. Jimin finished his off too, and took the empty glass from you, setting them both on the bedside table. He casually made his way to the edge of the bed and stood in front of you. He stayed still for a few moments, watching your demeanor. You reclined slightly and met his gaze.

Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his seductive lips against yours.

It was different with Jimin. He didn’t kiss you with the same urgency Jungkook had. His kisses and caresses were slow and patient, meant to be savored. He didn’t lose control over his actions. In fact, his seemed extremely deliberate, toying with different sensations to see what you responded to the most.

He softly nipped at your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth to give his tongue full access. He tasted like the fine wine you had been sharing all night. He smelled like vanilla and sandalwood—musky, but with a hint of sweetness. You ran your fingers through his hair and he exhaled against your skin, closing his eyes to focus on your touch.

His hand came up to your collarbone and he pressed his fingers lightly against it, guiding you backwards until you were fully reclined on the bed. Gracefully, he climbed on top of you. The weight of his body felt warm and welcome. He continued kissing you slowly.

One of his knees rested in between yours, and you tilted your hips up to press against him, feeling the thickness of his thighs putting just enough pressure where your damp lace panties stuck to you. You whined softly as his hand rand down your side to grip the back of your thigh and wrapped it around him.

He moved his kisses over to your earlobe, which he took between his full pink lips and tugged slightly. Your hands went to the hem of his shirt, and he lifted his arms so you could peel it off of him, tossing it to the floor. He reciprocated, sliding your tank top off your body and discarding carelessly it to the side.

His naked torso sank back down to rest on you, skin against skin, lips attacking your collarbone. You could feel his growing erection pressing against you.

Trailing his lips down from your collarbone, he reached his hands to unclasp your bra, exposing your hard nipples to the cool night air. Taking one in his mouth, he demonstrated extreme dexterity with his tongue, swirling it around and applying just the right amount of pressure to make you moan softly underneath him.

Jimin knew what he was doing. That had become apparent as he trailed soft kisses from your nipples down your torso. It was difficult to remain patient as he casually unbuttoned your shorts to remove them. When he got to your panties, he pressed another kiss to the skin above the waistband, before taking it in his teeth. He started to peel them off you and a thin string of your essence bridged the gap, stretching from the soaked lace back to your pussy. You lifted your hips so he could drag them down your body with his mouth.

Sitting back up, he placed a hand on the plane of skin between your hip bones. His thumb started lazily circling your clit while he surveyed the sight beneath him. At his touch, your hips bucked, and you let out a sharp gasp. His eyes glided up and down your body and he marveled at how wet you were already, before moving his head down between your thighs.

To say Jimin was good at eating pussy would be an offensive understatement. He was fucking incredible. His tongue could win awards on its own, but when paired with his perfect pink lips that expertly sucked on your clit, the experience was on another level.

Swirling his tongue around, he wrapped his arms around each of your thighs and pulled you into him harder, before letting go with one hand so he could insert a finger into you. After making sure you were nice and slick, he added a second, palm facing up so he could curl his fingers toward his target. He began pumping them up and down, beating a steady tattoo against your g-spot. A loud moan escaped from your mouth.

He paused briefly to shush you, not wanting any of the party guests to discover the sin taking place within the room. You bit your lip to keep from moaning again as his tongue licked a long strip along your slit before his fingers resumed their assault on your pussy. He matched the flicks of his tongue with the pace of his hands and it didn’t take long before you could feel a heat building below your abdomen. Your fingers ran through his hair and you tried to coax his mouth back to yours, unsuccessfully.

“Jimin, you’re going to make me come if you don’t stop,” you whispered.

“And?” you heard him ask from between your thighs.

“I still want you.”

He paused to respond. “There will be plenty of time for that.” He dove back down so his tongue could continue attacking your clit. Inhaling sharply, legs quivering, the sensations he was causing made you buck your hips up again.

Growing impatient with your interruptions, he took a strong hand to your pubic bone and with it, he firmly pinned you down against the bed so he could continue ravaging your pussy with his mouth. Your body was quickly hurtling once again towards ecstasy, but you still wanted to feel him inside of you. Your hands went to his head again so you could guide him back up.

Sighing in annoyance, he sat up and pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of contact, but then he started undoing his belt. You waited in anticipation for him to remove the rest of his clothes and fuck you.

Sliding it from the loops in his jeans, it became clear that Jimin had other plans.

“I’m not done,” he said quietly but firmly, and pinned your greedy hands above your head. He used his belt to secure both of your wrists to the frame of his headboard, checking to make sure it wasn’t too tight before moving his face back down between your legs.

Your lower lip was raw as you bit it hard to keep any more sounds from escaping. He had doubled down his efforts. You arched your back as he moved his fingers inside you and took your clit between his lips, sucking hard and flicking his tongue over you.

Your muscles tensed and your breath quickened. You were approaching the edge very quickly.

“Now. Come,” he whispered. And you did. Hard.

He planted his mouth at your opening so he could taste all of it, not wanting to let any of you go to waste. The muscular walls of your core contracted and released several times as the waves of your orgasm washed up and down your entire body. A moan got caught in your throat. Your heart pounded. He encircled your thighs with his arms and pulled you into him firmly so you could ride out your orgasm on his face, until finally your muscles relaxed.

Sweaty, panting, and incapable of moving, you laid there trying to catch your breath while he gazed affectionately down at your wrecked body. Jimin removed the belt from your wrists and allowed you to drape your arms around his back as he kissed you sweetly.

“I’ll let you get your bearings before I go on,” he whispered, not wanting to overstimulate you just yet. He dotted your neck with gentle kisses as the blood returned to the rest of your body. Once you caught your breath, his kissing picked up a renewed intensity.  

Your hands snaked down to his jeans to remove the rest of his clothes. This time, he didn’t stop you. Once he was free from his clothing, you allowed yourself to admire his body. Taking note of his girth, you took his cock in your hands and began stroking him.

He pressed his lips together and he tilted his head back, shutting his eyes. He let out a soft groan. You moved to place your mouth on it, but he stopped you.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he said, and moved one of his legs between yours to force them farther apart. He lifted your right leg up to rest on his shoulder, tilting your body to the left. He then dipped two fingers inside you again to collect some of your essence, which he used to stroke his cock a few times before lining it up with your opening.

He paused to look at you, making sure you were ready. You nodded. He carefully glided the swollen tip first before pushing farther in and finally bottoming out inside you. You grabbed a pillow to throw over your face so you could muffle a loud groan. This position was new to you, and you swore to god you’ve never felt anyone this deep inside you. He stretched you out perfectly, almost to the point of discomfort, but so, so good. He moved back slightly before sliding into you once again. You rocked your hips, eager for more.

Encouraged by your response, he repeated the movement at a casual, steady pace, easing in and out of you, and giving you an opportunity to get accustomed to his size. You didn’t possess his same patience, however. You locked eyes with him.  

“Fuck it up, Jimin.”

And he did.

His hips slammed into you with all the force of his lust behind them. The bed frame groaned and creaked with inertia, but he didn’t slow down. A series of expletives fell out of his mouth in low whispers. He wrapped his arm around your leg and used it for leverage, teeth nipping at the skin.

“Fuck. You take my cock so good,” he groaned quietly. He pressed against your collarbone with one of his hands, the other still wrapped around your leg. He was not quite choking you, but the threat that he could was looming, causing your senses to heighten. You wanted more.

“Shit, Jimin,” you panted, “fucking ruin me.” Your filthy language elicited a loud groan from him, and he picked up his pace even quicker. The sound of his torso slamming into the back of your thigh echoed through the room, hopefully undetected by partygoers. “God, you’re so good.”

Pulling out of you momentarily, he pushed your leg down to turn you over so your face was buried in the pillows. He grabbed your hips to position them where he wanted, and smacked your ass hard before slamming his cock into you once again.

Over and over, he pounded your pussy, while his hand reached around to rub your clit in circles. At that rate, you knew were going to come again any minute.

“Fuck,” you whispered again, barely audible above the sounds of his hips smacking against your ass.

“I need you to come once more for me. Can you do that?” You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him. He grabbed your hair and pulled you upright so he could repeat it while looking at your face.

“Can you do that for me?” he asked again.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

He shoved your body back down on the bed and placed both hands on your ass, clawing it up with his fingernails. He gripped onto you hard and used it to force himself deeper into you, to where it almost hurt to take him.

“Fuck, it’s good,” he whispered, with a groan. “I’m almost there.”

His rapid pounding caused your abdomen to tighten once again, and you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. Tears were welling in the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by both pain and titillation, and you tightened around him. He could recognize the telltale signs by now. The sights and sounds of the room faded away as you focused only on what he was doing to your body. Your muscles tensed in a vice grip.

“Give it to me,” he demanded.

Your second orgasm exploded onto you and ricocheted around your nerve endings. Your pussy squeezed around his cock, and you felt him tense up. His own climax shook his body. You felt his hot cum coating the walls of your pussy, and you both rode out your highs before your limbs finally gave out and you fell back on the bed. You felt his body hit the bed next to you, and he wrapped an arm around you to pull you close.  

He painted your shoulder with slow, soft kisses, before he brought his lips up to yours. You kissed him back lazily, unable to muster much energy.  

He broke the kiss to look down at you, utterly fucked out, coated in sweat and bruises, full of his cum. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmured.

The Choreographer - Pt. 5

Jimin x reader / Jungkook x reader / future poly! bts x reader

Summary: As the assistant choreographer for BTS, you are often responsible for helping the guys rehearse one-on-one. Professional and courteous as you try to act on the job, there is no denying that deep within you lies a submissive, thirsty slut, dying to come out and play. Everyone knows scandal would cost you your job, but sometimes the tension can become unbearable.

It’s too bad. But it’s too sweet.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Grinding, drinking, partying, jealousy, angst, fluff, forbidden affairs, fingering, oral (f receiving), foul language, light bondage, spanking, rough sex, and so much smut.

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: This chapter is almost entirely smut with a brief glimpse of plot at the end if you squint. But it is an important plot point that hints at major things to come. I didn’t ever intend for this one-shot to turn into this crazy whirlwind but here we are. 

Masterlist

the entire duration of the game you and Jungkook had been playing, you’d always had the upper hand. You were sure of it. But when he left shortly afterwards, no hint of an answer to your question, suddenly you felt small.

He wasn’t sure if he was okay with the arrangement you had proposed. He needed time to think about it.

Okay, that was fine. It was a lot to think about. Logically, it made sense.

But did it?

You had thrown yourself at him. Done exactly what he wanted. Submitted to his every carnal desire. But he was still not entirely sure he wanted to continue seeing you? It didn’t add up. You gave him what you suspected was best fuck of his life. It may have even been the best fuck of yours, too.  

Was that why it ate away at you? Because the sex was so good and now you weren’t sure you would get it again? Or was it something worse?

Inside your body, something squeezed, sputtered, and grew heavier. A bitterness rose up from your stomach, threatening to spill into your mouth. You clenched your jaw to keep it down. It felt too much like rejection—a feeling you knew only too well.  

The first time, it had been from your peers. You were just a young schoolgirl, trying her hardest to fit in with hand-me-down clothes and holes in your shoes. You were only ten years old, but you felt the sting of cruelty. The most popular girl in your class was also a dancer. As a child prodigy, you had skyrocketed to the top of your dance class, and she hated you for it. She turned the other girls against you. Told them your father was dating your dance instructor and that’s why you were always given the spotlight. Warned them not to trust you because you would do anything for attention. But that wasn’t true. Any of it. You adamantly defended your father’s reputation, clear up until he left your mother and she yanked you out of dance class so you wouldn’t be around “that harlot.”

Then, from your teachers after you failed, once again, to turn in your homework. To your credit, you really did try, but your evenings were spent cleaning houses to afford dance lessons from a different studio on the weekends. You wanted to prove to yourself and to others that it wasn’t true. You were a good dancer and a hard worker, and that’s why you got center stage. It wasn’t because of the affair. It wasn’t. You told your mother you were spending your evenings with a tutor. She may have even bought it for a time. But your marks never improved.

After that, it was from your mother. She found out you had enrolled in a private arts school with a great dance program instead of the business school she had insisted on. You begged and pleaded for her to let you stay, but she cut you off. No funding. No help. Being a dancer was a whore’s job. You took out more debt than you could reasonably handle, but paid your own way. She offered to help if you transferred to the business school, but you had neither the drive, nor the scholastic achievements to make it as a number cruncher.

The worst though—the worst was with your professor. Taking on more student debt than you could hope to pay off was a risk, but you were hopeful and confident. All your life, you had been the best dancer in your class. But at the arts school? You were a small fish in a pretty fucking huge pond, and he let you know it. Sometimes it was with a backhanded complement because you messed up the combination, but at least you were pretty so he doubted anyone would notice. Other times it was with outright insults. Daggers thrown carelessly in your direction to let you know that you weren’t good enough as a dancer. That you’d have to rely on your looks to get ahead. And then when that internship opportunity arose—no. You cut that train off right in its tracks. It was behind you. You have handled rejection countless times.

But this?

This was different. Your value had been reduced to your looks many times, but even still, they have never failed you. You had never thrown your sex appeal so unashamedly at someone to have them meet you with indifference. Jungkook was not rejecting you. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He was merely playing his hand. Flexing his poker face. He would surely call you in a few days.

 You did receive a call that evening, but it wasn’t from Jungkook. It was from Mr. Son.

The call was short. No pleasantries were exchanged. His voice held a stoicism that was uncharacteristic of his usual laid-back nature. He wanted to meet with you in the morning to discuss a matter that has come up. That was all the explanation he afforded you.

Your stomach dropped. Your heart pounded a heavy tattoo against your ribs and threatened to erupt out from your chest. All of your fears attacked you at once, like feral wolves gnashing their teeth at your limbs.

You didn’t sleep that night. Visions of Jungkook feeding Mr. Son stories of your sexual escapades with the members played on repeat behind closed eyelids. Or what if it was worse? What if Mr. Son had learned of your past scandals?

Dawn arrived with offensive speed. What started as a deep indigo accelerated until a violent red-orange horizon assaulted you through your window, and you dragged yourself out into the cold morning. At 7:00 in the morning, you were sitting in front of Mr. Son’s desk, looking worse for the wear.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He sighed. “I guess that was probably my fault for sounding so urgent on the phone.”

You didn’t want to admit to him that he was right.

“Why am I here?” you asked. It was best to just get to the point instead of delay your torture any longer.

“I’m really sorry. I hate to have to do this, but I don’t really have a choice,” he began. Tears threatened to spill over your eyelids. You said nothing.

“As you know, the boys are going on tour soon,” he continued.

Confusion now entered into the mix of emotions whirling around inside you.

“I am responsible for overseeing the choreography on tour,” he spoke in a softer tone, “but my mother is ill, and I need to look after her. I know it’s not in your contract to travel out of the country, and I’m basically asking you to put your life on hold, but please.”

He moved so he was standing in front of you and took your hand in his, “please, can you go in my place? I’ll do anything. She needs me to stay.”

You looked at your friend and colleague, the man you respected and owed your career to, as the desperation on his face grew. He had done everything for you. You owed him this.

“I can do it.”  

There was no hesitation. Mr. Son had never asked anything of you before. You had always relied on him. He had taken you under his wing as a fledgling intern at his previous company, believed in you when others hadn’t, helped you hone your skills, and got you the job here. You had ridden on the tailcoat of his success for years, and now it was your chance to return the favor. You hoped you didn’t disappoint him.

It wasn’t until hours later, you began to panic, after the details had all been laid out. This would stand as a defining moment of your career. Mr. Son thought you were ready to handle the job responsibilities without his careful guidance. But the triumph was soured with the knowledge that you would be traveling with the boys for weeks—potentially months if Mr. Son had to stay back longer.

It would probably be best if you stopped fucking around and focused solely on your job. That was the most prudent option. Your career was too important to risk any more. You had busted your ass to get here. Done things you weren’t proud of. Things you tried to forget. It would all be in vain if you got fired because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. You were better than that.

Your phone rang.

“Are you busy?” Jimin asked.

“No, I’m off today,” you answered.

“Want some company?”

Maybe you weren’t better than that. But you would be as soon as the tour started.  

“So how did your talk go?” he said, walking over to the bed with a glass of water, which he handed to you.

Sitting up, you pulled the bed sheets up over your naked body. Jimin frowned and lightly tugged them back down.

“Talk?” Had he known about your meeting with Mr. Son?

“With Jungkook,” he answered.

“Oh.” The bitterness in your throat returned. “It was…complicated,” you said, heaving a sigh. He climbed back into the bed and wrapped comforting arms around you.

“I can see that,” he said, brushing a delicate finger over the angry purple marks on your neck. “You might want to talk to him about his habit of leaving these.”

“As if you’re any less at fault,” you scoffed.

“Fair enough.” He nuzzled your cheek in a show of affection.

“When do you have to be back?” you asked.

“I have all day,” he said, pulling you to recline back down onto the bed with him. He lazily drew circles on your abdomen with his thumb.

“Have you talked to him at all?” you inquired, curiosity getting be best of you.

“No. He’s been keeping to himself the last couple of days,” he answered. You furrowed your brow. “I’m sure he’ll come around,” Jimin said, and pulled you on top of him so you could straddle his hips.

“Already?” you gasped. The corner of his mouth twitched up in conjunction with his raised eyebrow. “You’re going to wear me out, I swear to god,” you said and rolled your hips along his cock, which had become erect again much sooner than you expected, considering the fact that it had just been inside you not ten minutes ago.

“This is new,” he said, grabbing your thighs and pulling you further into him from where you sat on top of his hips. “I like it.”

You didn’t respond, but held eye contact, rocking your hips back and forth over his arousal. He looked too good to be real, head tilted back and throat exposed, trying to hold back a strangled gasp as you raked your hands down his chiseled chest. His abs flexed as he bucked his hips up to meet yours, digging his nails into your thighs. You could feel yourself dripping down and leaving a mess on him, and when he felt how wet you were, his grip on your thigh tightened and he brought his other hand up to your throat. One of your favorite kinks.

You marveled at how he knew exactly what to do to make your body respond the way he wanted it to. He was so adept at guessing your dirtiest needs without even asking. But truth be told, what you needed most was his dominance. You wanted to please him.

“Do you like when I grab your pretty little throat?” he growled.

“Y…yes,” you choked out. He squeezed tighter. “Yes, sir.”

At that, he stopped the motion of his hips and relaxed his grip, only to sit up and grab your waist sharply. Before you knew it, your head hit the pillow and Jimin was on top of you, sucking at your neck and running his hands all over you.  

“God, you’re so wet for me,” he said before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. A sonorous moan reverberated from his mouth to your hardened bud as you raked your fingers through is tresses.

“Jimin,” you whined. “I need you in me.”

He brought his mouth back up to meet yours and sucked lightly on your bottom lip.

“Where do you keep your condoms?” he asked, having already spent the one he brought with him.

“Bottom drawer,” you gasped out, pointing to your nightstand without looking. You whimpered at the loss of his touch as he clambered off you and dipped his head off the side of the bed, looking for a foil packet in the cluttered drawer you kept your personal items in. After rummaging around a bit, he sat back up and looked at you. Eyes still closed in anticipation, you didn’t notice him holding up something that was definitely not a condom.

He clicked a button and a familiar whirring sound hits your ears.  Your eyes snap open to find him holding your vibrator. He met your gaze—his eyes absolutely smoldering.

“Jimin…,” you whimpered, eager to feel him. But the smirk playing on his face indicated he was planning on showing you no mercy. He pressed the tip to your nipple, just enough to cause your pulse to quicken. He bent down and took your earlobe between his lips, tugging softly.

“Jimin,” you gasped, “don’t tease.”

“Tell me,” he whispered in a voice so saturated with sex it should be illegal, “how many times have you fucked yourself with this, wishing it was me?”

You didn’t want to admit the truth, but he persisted, running the toy up your neck and to your lips. When you didn’t answer again, he rolled you over and smacked your ass hard, causing you to let out a pathetic cry.

“Answer me, bitch.” The verbal dominance made your insides erupt with need.

“T…too many to count, sir,” you admitted in a squeak. He turned you back over to face him.

“Such a pretty slut. So desperate for my cock.”

You pressed your lips together and nodded, eager for more. He ran the pulsating toy down your body and pressed it against your clit, spurring another moan to escape your throat.

Before he got too carried away, however, he shut the vibrator off and tossed it carelessly to the floor.

You whimpered. He had turned you into a writhing mess in the span of a few minutes and your core absolutely ached. “Wh…why’d you—” but your question was cut off as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Get dressed,” he said. You stared blankly at him in confusion. He chuckled at the look of exasperation that adorned your features. “You’re too good for cheap plastic toys like that. I want to treat that pussy right.”

You scoffed in annoyance. “Then put your dick inside it and fuck me,” you spat, allowing your frustration to seep through your tone. He shot you a glance that served as a warning before he left the bedroom, and you sighed, knowing better than to argue with him.

With groan of frustration, you stood up and rummaged through your closet to find a clean pair of panties and a flowy sundress. When you emerged into the living room, face still flushed with your earlier activities and still reeking of sex, Jimin was already dressed, his clothes having been torn off and scattered around the floor in the throes of passion earlier. He ran his eyes up and down your body, appraising you.

“Easy access,” he said, gesturing to the short hemline that floated above your knees. “I like it.”

Jimin slipped on a black face mask and a baseball cap to hide any distinguishing features. He also removed all of his signature jewelry for good measure, rendering him essentially indistinguishable. By the time he slipped on a pair of sunglasses and you both walked out of your building, he looked utterly unremarkable.  

“Let’s take your car. My license plate could be recognized.”

You nodded hesitantly. “I don’t know where we’re going…”

“I’ll drive,” he responded, and you tossed him your keys. It hadn’t even been a week since he last drove your car home after the restaurant and you had come far too close to the rejection you tried so hard to avoid. You smirked inwardly at how drastically things had changed since. Surely, the same would happen with Jungkook.

 “A sex store? Really?” you asked.

“Just have an open mind, trust me.” He grabbed your hand and led you inside. You were the only two there. He gave the owner a nod as he passed the counter and you got the impression that this was not the first time Jimin had been here.

As you looked around the store, you felt tingles ripple across your body. Displays of lingerie lined the walls. Racks on the floor showcased various devices, some of which you’d never seen before. Walking over to one shelf, you eyed a display of Ben Wa balls. You’d heard about them before, but had never thought to get any. These ones, however, held your attention.

“Find something you like?” Jimin’s soft voice broke you out of your thoughts. You pointed to the display, and he nodded in approval before giving you permission to pick out a pretty purple set to keep.

Jimin guided you to the lingerie, tossing quite the assortment of sheer, strappy garments into the basket so quickly you didn’t even get a good look at his choices. “I plan on seeing a lot of you. I want you to have options,” he explained. “I expect you to wear these for me.”

Jimin had picked out so much lingerie that he had to get a large basket to carry everything. He filled it with all sorts of things you had never seen before, and you wondered how you were ever under the impression that he was innocent.

Flavored lube, arousal gel, dildos in assorted sizes and materials, rope, blindfolds, a riding crop, a feather tickler, a spreader bar, leather cuffs. He didn’t leave any section untouched. By that point, you were so slick your panties failed to absorb it, and it threatened to run down your thighs.

His final pick was a unique one. A rather expensive U-shaped silicone vibrator that could be remotely controlled. Your eyes ran over the impressive set of features listed on the box. Video chat, a smartphone app to control it, Bluetooth connectivity, multi-uses. Your breath hitched at the thought of him controlling the device, getting you to come while he was halfway across the globe.

The total for all his purchases was higher than you spent on rent and utilities in a full month. You should have stopped him. Told him that you would be leaving on tour with them and that you couldn’t continue sleeping with each other. If you were a better person, you would have tried harder.

“Do we really need all of this? I thought we were just coming for a vibrator?” you asked feebly.  

“Yes,” he deadpanned without batting an eye. He paid in all cash, not wanting to leave a paper trail lest anyone discover his extracurricular activities. You wondered how he could fit that much cash in his wallet, and if he was always prepared for less-than-wholesome purchases. The fact that he was willing to spend so much on your sexual pleasure caused something within you to lift and the bitterness in your throat to ebb. The tour and the golden maknae were pushed forcefully from your mind. They were problems for future you to deal with.  

“Hungry?” he asked, getting back into the car after he loaded his bags of sin into your back seat.

“Starving,” you answered.

He drove to a restaurant that was quite beyond your means. “My treat.” The warm feeling in your gut began to spread. To Jimin, you were worth treating, and that was a comforting thought.

“So what, are you like my sugar daddy now?” you joked. You caught the flash of sin in his eyes before he regained his calm demeaner.

“I can’t help but want to take care of you,” he admitted. You didn’t want to question it.

“Before we go in,” he said, reaching back into a small bag, “put these on.” He handed you a thin pair of black lace panties.

“Yes, sir.”

You slid the soaked pair you were currently wearing off your body, handing them to Jimin, who brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply before pocketing them. You watched the lewd act in awe, as you wiggled into the new pair, noticing a distinct lack of coverage.

“Crotchless?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached back into the bag and pulled out the expensive toy. “Spread,” he commanded, and you lifted the hem of your dress out of the way so he could see how slick you were. He rubbed your slit a few times, letting out a soft groan as he did.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he observed, and inserted one end of the toy into you with no need for lube—you were already wet enough. You shivered as his hands brushed over your sensitive bundle of nerves under the flimsy disguise of ensuring the fit was right. He positioned it so that the inner end was up against your g-spot while the outer end fit snugly against your clit.

Giving you a chaste kiss, he licked the finger that had been stroking you and pulled up his face mask again before stepping out of the car and walking over to open your door. As you stood up, you noticed the toy fit very well, but you still kept your thighs pressed together as much as you could so it wouldn’t fall out. The panties provided less security than you would have liked.

Jimin leaned in and whispered something to the hostess, who nodded and led the two of you to a private dining area in the back of the restaurant. There was only one table, which you were thankful for. The door closed, and Jimin finally removed his mask, glasses, and hat, allowing you to gaze once more at those beautiful plush lips of his. You dutifully ignored the fact that there was a timer on your fling and it was ticking toward an end.

He smiled at you, and you blushed without meaning to. Your heartbeat suddenly quickened, nerves taking you by surprise. This should not be making you nervous. He should not be making you nervous, considering how deep inside you he has been already. The fact that you would have to give this up in a matter of weeks had somehow made him all the more desirable.

You busied yourself looking at the menu to hide the feelings of guilt that threatened to take hold. It’s not like this was a date, so why did it feel like you were leading him on? You knew he couldn’t date, and so did he. This was dinner. He had said himself that you could go back to normal at any point with no hard feelings. At most, this was Jimin being an exhibitionist.

The ambiance of the restaurant décor had placed rose-tinted glasses on you without you even noticing. It had been expertly curated to make everything look more romantic than it actually was. This was not a date. Was not. The extravagance of this restaurant would not make you regret choosing your career over sex with Jimin. The sex wasn’t worth it.

“Anything look good?” he asked.

“I think I want the—ah! Oh…,” you were interrupted by the immensely pleasurable sensation of the vibrator whirring to life.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asked, as he increased the vibration speed from the toy’s app on his phone. Your hands slapped the table to brace yourself against it. You haven’t felt this sensation before. Sure, your cheap plastic vibrator could get you off, but it was weak, and was only able to stimulate one area at a time. The powerful dual stimulation of Jimin’s purchase had you gasping within seconds.

“So responsive,” he said, chuckling to himself at how easily he had you panting, before stopping the vibrations altogether. You looked up at him, your sexual frustration clearly displayed in your expression. He had been teasing you for hours and at this point, you were barely holding yourself together.

“I can tell I’m going to love this,” he said, a sly smile plastered on his face.

You tried your best to concentrate on the menu, but the looming threat of public indecency weighed heavy. It was both intimidating and arousing, knowing at any moment, Jimin could turn you into a sloppy mess with the press of a button. His actions squashed any question of whether or not this was a date (and your guilt along with it). It wasn’t. This was Jimin stepping up his teasing to the next level by doing it in public. You told yourself firmly that it was relief you were feeling, not disappointment. Relief.

The server walked in to take your drink orders, and you thanked Jimin internally for behaving while she was present. He ordered a glass of wine for each of you, along with a few extra napkins, which solidified your assumption that Jimin was not planning on letting you eat in peace.

“Is wine your preferred poison?” you asked once the server came back with your drinks. Taking a sip, you recalled how he had offered to share his expensive bottle of cabernet with you the first time you fucked.

“I don’t have many vices,” he answered, “but I do enjoy a fine wine.”

“What are your vices, then?” you asked. He took a moment to ponder, licking his lips slowly while deep in thought.

“Perfectionism, for one. Adoration. Applause. You know, the Idol lifestyle.”

“Any others?”

“One more,” he said and narrowed his eyes.

“What is…oh, fuck—” You felt the vibrations once again, just briefly, before he quickly shut it off. Recovering, you swallowed thickly and continued your inquisition.

“Dominance, or sex in general?” You murmured your follow up question between heavy breaths.

“Deviance,” he answered.

It made sense. Idols have to follow such a strict set of rules for how they behaved in public. There had to be some sort of outlet. You were beginning to understand why he had suddenly become such a sexual person with you after that bridge had been crossed, when before he had seemed so innocent. Fucking him had inadvertently opened the floodgates.

Thoughts of the other boys appeared in your head. Did they all have dirty secrets hidden underneath their dashing smiles and perfectly-coifed hair? Were they all just as starved for sex as Jimin? Or Jungkook?

Or you? Surely they couldn’t have reached the levels of depravity you had once delved to.

Images flashed across your mind before you could stop them. Each of them wearing the same dark, hungry look you had come to know so well on Jimin’s face.

You were brought out of your unintentional fantasy abruptly when your food arrived at the table.

“What about you?” he asked as soon as the server left before digging into his meal.

“What about me?” you repeated.

“What vices do you have?”

You should have known the question would ricochet back to you as soon as you had fired it. You could have been honest. You could have told him your past. About your all-consuming need to feel validated. Your desire to prove yourself through your work. The sour vindictiveness that eats away at you while you cling to it. The bitter culmination of your years of social isolation and failure to excel at anything except dance, and possibly, sex. The overwhelming drive to do everything you possibly could to avoid failing at your only merit.

Or you could have told him about the year you wasted partying, immersing yourself in keg stands, bong hits, and one-night stands that punctuated the nights you spent curled up into yourself and sobbing at your failure to find employment after taking on so much debt and throwing away any remaining dignity for a dead-end internship until Mr. Son stepped in and offered you a position with BigHit.  

Even after you got your job, your lewd actions hadn’t entirely ceased—only slowed. They had no idea of the staff parties where you had drunkenly danced in your bra on the kitchen counter of Mr. Son’s house while he ripped a bong and the other staffers played flip cup. But those parties were few and far between, and it had been a long time since you put on a show like that for anyone. Well, until you started fucking the idols. But you were going to stop.

Did they think you were just as innocent as you had assumed they were? If so, it was best to keep the illusion.

“None that come to mind.”

Jimin pressed his lips together, not entirely satisfied with the low-effort nature of your response.

“What about submission?” he asked.

“What?”

“I think what you really crave is submission.  You want someone to give you orders and lavish you with praise when you follow them. Am I wrong?”

“That’s not…fuck—” To prove his point, Jimin had once again switched on the vibrations. You pressed your thighs together under the table, trying to keep your reaction at bay.

“You can tell me to stop if you really want, but I prefer you like this.”

Your pride and your lust were at war within you. You didn’t want to admit how well he could read you. You didn’t want to be so desperate to please someone, but he was right. Still, your pride was putting up a good fight.

“St…Jimin, St-st….,” you sputtered half-heartedly. The last few shreds of hubris were carried away on the moan that left your lips.

In the end, it was your lust that claimed victory as your protests got lost in a hiss. You rocked your hips in your chair to deepen the sensation, desperate to relieve the coil that had been winding tighter and tighter within you since you had left the comforts of your bed.

Jimin watched eagerly, dinner all but forgotten about, as you bit your lip and tensed your muscles. It no longer mattered that you were in a public place and your server could walk in at any moment. All you could think about was the taut thread that threatened to snap at any moment.

He put the vibrator on full blast, and you keeled over, catching yourself on the table with your hands and holding onto it with a steel grip to keep you from falling out of your chair. You let out a groan as you grinded your hips down into your chair.

Before you even noticed he had left his chair, Jimin was standing behind you, covering your mouth with his hand to muffle the moans that had become a little too loud. You bit down on his fingers to keep from screaming. His other hand traveled to your throat and within seconds, you were on the verge of collapsing, the toy sending powerful vibrations to your clit and core simultaneously.

You tried with all your might to keep your impending orgasm at bay, but ultimately failed, and failed hard.

“Oh, God Jimin,” He caught your muffled cries in his hand as your climax materialized in your body and your legs shook underneath you. It seeped out of you, staining your dress and the hardwood chair that barely held you up.

He slowly reduced the speed while you came down from your high, before he shut off completely. Your limp body slumped over and you rested your forehead against the table, completely spent.

He gave you a moment to catch your breath and he went back to his dinner, as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just turned you into a whimpering mass of sweat and sin.

Eventually, and with great effort, you lifted your forehead off the table and glanced up at him.

“Eat,” he commanded, gesturing to your untouched bowl of noodles, but the last thing on your mind was food.

That was the last time, you promised. The last time you would give in to him.