Chapter 1: yoonmin: moan it like you mean it
yoongi/jimin; yoonmin, 2.4k
pwp, mutual masturbation, mild voyeurism, cum swallowing
a/n: first drabble and of course it's yoonmin smut, what else?
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
when jimin wakes, it’s when the bedsheets beside him is cold and the fan above his head is still whirring.
he also wakes with morning wood—unforgivingly so, and he groans in irritation when he feels the numbing sensations in the pit of his belly. he looks up at the ceiling, hoping that if he counts the speckles of paint across the walls that maybe it’d go away but he knew better, but he kind of wished that yoongi didn’t have to work so early in the morning so he could’ve at least had a little help.
he sighs, knowing very well that the feeling won’t just go away even if he wanted it to because in reality he just wanted to go back to sleep but the pull from beneath his boxer briefs was starting to hurt, so he just shuffles his body over to yoongi’s side of the bed and closes his eyes.
the familiar scent of cologne and soft detergent infiltrates his senses and it’s a little sad how much the smell wafts him in so easily, turns him on like a switch, and he rests his hand over his stomach. he pads his fingertips over the skin, the tickling sensations making his toes curl into the mattress as goosebumps start to form over his arms and he knows that dragging out the feeling would only make things more complicated but why not have fun while he was at it?
he moves his hands, palms inching underneath his boxers as he curves his knees up, pulling off the fabric until it’s hooked around his ankles—cock bouncing up at the momentum and he hisses as the air of the fan touches his skin, feeling much like ice against the muscle. he flicks his vision down, eyes still a little fogged over from his slumber but his vision suddenly clears when he drags his thumb underneath the base, easing out a small moan into the quiet apartment as he slowly breaks with the touch of his own hands.
“yoongi,” he sighs, and it’s completely obvious on how much he’s so strung out on his boyfriend, even after two years of being together because when the name falls from his lips it’s like a bomb being dropped inside his chest, “fuck.”
moving his free arm across his eyes to block his vision, he wraps a firm grip around his cock, a downstroke that has his hips already stuttering deep into the bedsheets, head knocked into a dizzy frenzy as the fantasy starts unravelling inside his skull.
yoongi’s fingers—pale complexions that look so beautifully compatible against his own tanned flesh, gripping around his cock as yoongi works up a rhythm. jimin imagines it like it was really happening, the older knowing very well on how to push his buttons, knows it better than jimin does himself and he falters in his mind just a little because goddamn did he really need yoongi because this doesn’t even compare to how his boyfriend does it.
and then he imagines yoongi’s lips—flush with pink, pouted lips that accentuates the cupid’s bow and the curled up sides of his mouth that dances so hot on his skin whenever yoongi wants to tantalize. the soft flesh of pink against the slope his neck, biting bright hickeys into bruised flesh with the words of, ‘you’re so hot like this, jimin’ or maybe even ‘look at how hard you are for me,’ because yoongi loves it as much as jimin when the praises leave the older’s lips.
third comes yoongi’s voice—deep and rumbling. dripped with dark velvet, a kind of dangerous dessert that only jimin was allowed to taste, to crave, especially when the vibrations flow against his thighs and across the span of his stomach. lazy dialect that puts jimin on overdrive every single time yoongi talks dirty.
“hyung,” he mutters to himself, voice coming out into a small pant, chest heaving up and down as he works an upstroke to the head of his cock.
he’s dripping with precum, trickling a warmth down his girth as it pools against his fingertips making the slide of his hands around his dick that much easier.
and then he thinks of yoongi’s cock—heavy, thick, a beautiful kind of pink at the tips and pale flesh that runs down and into jimin’s fingers where they were barely able to wrap around. he imagines it on his tongue, heavy with sweat and bitter cum in his mouth as he lets the older mouth fuck him until his throat was raw, until he felt used and dry. gag reflex being overused and worn out from how hard yoongi slams his hips into jimin’s mouth with each thrust.
jimin juts his hips up, mouth falling open as he envisions yoongi on top of him, pale fingers gripping onto his cock as he rocks his hips in and out of jimin’s mouth like it was a task that jimin could do for hours on end (which jimin thinks he could really, considering his appetite was always hungry for yoongi).
and it might be because of jimin being so wrapped up in his sexual fantasy that he misses the lock opening on the front door, misses the footsteps walking closer to the bedroom, misses the fact that yoongi has already pushed the door open softly to see that jimin was falling apart to his own thoughts about yoongi.
jimin is in the middle of pumping himself with a faster momentum, fingers gripped so hot and tightly around his cock, precum spreading all through the digits and coating it thick—when he hears a deep and surprised,
he swiftly moves his arm off his face and snaps his eyes open to see yoongi standing there, all physical form and not just a part of his thoughts, eyes piercing into jimin’s position on the bed and it makes him keen so loud that he had to pause the motions on his cock, “h-hyung,” he says, voice broken as he regains his composure to continue, “what’re you—ah, doing here?”
yoongi doesn’t say anything at first, only shifting his eyes to jimin’s hands and back on his face before he drops his bag onto the surface of the floor and dips his weight onto the edge of the bed, “i forgot i had the day off today,” the older replies, voice a little strained as he plants both knees on the side of jimin’s legs, “what’re you doing?”
“i woke up horny,” jimin laughs softly, furrowing his eyebrows when the sudden flood of arousal pikes across his skin now that yoongi was physically there and near him, “c-can you help?”
“no,” and jimin is about to whine back in protest because he really needed yoongi to touch him but then yoongi smirks and lays his hands on jimin’s knees, “let me watch.”
the amount of how fucking turned on jimin is after yoongi had suggested the idea was absolutely mind wrecking. he cracks a loud moan from his throat when he nods his head, knocking his head back when his fingers move at a faster pace, “shit, hyung.”
“god you look so good doing this,” yoongi says, wrapping a hand underneath the curve of jimin’s knee, “show me how you do it when i’m not here.”
jimin’s mind starts to fog over at this point, especially when yoongi suddenly grabs his leg and throws it over his shoulder, hiking up jimin’s hips so that everything was exposed and open for yoongi’s eyes to observe. and the oversensitivity that starts to brim inside jimin’s belly works up like a storm—he’s moaning, cursing, teeth digging onto the surface of his bottom lip and it’s so hard to not just beg for yoongi to fuck him right now, but the thought of having yoongi watch as he unravels piece by piece is fulfilling.
so let yoongi watch; as long as jimin was the main attraction.
“what did you imagine, jimin?” yoongi asks, blunt nails plunging onto jimin’s thighs, “tell me, baby.”
“i thought of,” jimin takes a breath, index finger swooping low and marking circles against his perineum, “i thought of your hands around me,” he tries again, eyelashes fluttering as yoongi stares him down, “thought about your lips and voice. thought about your cock and how much i want it inside my mouth right now,” he licks his lips, letting a small pant of a moan escape his lips when yoongi deliberately digs his nails harsher onto his thighs, “thought about how good you taste on my tongue.” he finishes, shifting his fingers so they were moving against his balls and up onto the base of his cock.
the heat of yoongi’s stare only feels like it’s getting more severe, burning holes on every inch of jimin’s skin and it makes him breath heavier each time yoongi slides his calloused palms over his flesh. and with every second spent with yoongi gazing down on him, every minute that passes, jimin grows more impatient, needy, hot, and he’s been doing this whole thing for so long now he just wants it to be over, wants to cum so hard with yoongi still fully clothed and watching.
but then yoongi unzips his own pants, the sound akin to music in jimin’s ears and he moans, jaw going slack at the thought of his boyfriend pumping with his own rhythm, “l-let me see you, hyung,” he whines, arching his back when he digs his thumb into his slit, “please.”
yoongi is at jimin’s mercy when the words spill, pulling his pants halfway down his thighs along with his boxers, cock smacking him against the stomach where jimin can see how fucking good the older looks right now. not even having to touch each other to get off, just having to use their words to gauge into each other’s actions.
“fuck,” yoongi groans, the last syllable coming out crisp and snaps in his mouth, one arm wrapped around jimin’s thigh and one around his cock, “keep going, jimin.”
jimin doesn’t hesitate to comply, hands moving swiftly around himself. yoongi looks so wrecked at this point that jimin arches his back so high in the air that he has to wrap his other leg around the older’s waist to prop himself up without straining his muscles. the grip that yoongi has on jimin’s thigh becomes firmer, making sure that the boy doesn’t lose his position like this on the bed.
and it’s almost insane, with the way their bodies coincide with each other. breaths coming out as heavy pants, yoongi’s groans becoming seethed through his teeth as he watches jimin pump with a fast beat, the motion of the tip of his cock disappearing and reappearing as yoongi’s mouth grows dry.
“do it like how i do it, jimin,” yoongi breathes, groaning when jimin ruts his hips up, ass grazing on his thighs from the impact, “do it how you like me to do it.”
“you too, hyung.” jimin whispers back, his eyes half-lidded as he looks up through his lashes.
this is how yoongi does it: jimin switches his position on himself, turning his arm around so that his thumb rests on the base of his cock, sliding against the underside with a firm grip that has him moaning so filthy that yoongi’s groans follow along with his voice. he pushes the muscle, clutching his down stroke so tight it almost hurts but has him curling his toes into the older’s shirt. and then he pulls up, flicking his wrist so his palm rubs over the tip until he’s unbearably sensitive. it’s then that his throat cracks when he screams, ‘yoongi,’ continuing the momentum until his arm aches but the way his body reacts makes it all worth the exertion.
he gets knocked into a delirium; hips bucking while his head flies back from the orgasm that starts to swell underneath the surface of his skin. mouth babbling senseless words, something along the lines of ‘fuckfuckfuck’ and ‘oh my god, please, baby, please,’ and yoongi’s doing the same—jaw clenching as he fists his own cock through his palms, watching as jimin starts falling apart with their bodies not even touching but yet so close together in a sensual warmth.
and then jimin, who feels like he’s burning at the rate of the sun and also teary-eyed, opens his mouth with lips wet with saliva says, “yoongi, i’m so close,” and he really is, hips stuttering, hands aching, “i’m going to fucking—”
yoongi reacts fast, throwing jimin’s body down onto the bedsheets, which surprises jimin and he moans so fucking loud from the way it stimulates him. he feels the way yoongi’s hands suddenly smack his thighs apart, a swift two slaps that leave a slight burn against his inner thighs and then yoongi’s mouth is on his cock, lips sucking the tip and the heat explodes against his skin.
“oh,” jimin sighs, lips parting as his neck cranes when the orgasm hits him, shooting his cum into yoongi’s mouth, “holy shit.”
he hears yoongi groan deep in his chest, feels the sensation of yoongi swallowing whatever he could down his throat and then surprises jimin with a lick against his perineum.
“f-fuck, don’t do that,” jimin hisses, scooting his hips back when he feels the wet trail of the other’s tongue.
yoongi pulls his mouth way when he straightens up, wiping his chin with the back of his hand as the other reaches back for his cock and he pumps quickly. when the orgasm hits, yoongi’s pretty face explodes into a dark expression, eyebrows furrowed and stitched, eyes looking soft yet so fucking sensual it has jimin groaning while he was riding out his own high.
“jimin,” yoongi growls, dipping his head down and biting against the younger’s stomach, “that was so hot.”
jimin replies with a soft laugh, reaching over to grab a towel from the nightstand to wipe off his thighs from the damp stickiness before he throws it aside and sits up. yoongi has his hands placed over jimin’s knees during this and he watches as the younger comically tucks yoongi back in and zips up his pants with a small kiss to the cheek.
“what a way to fucking say hello,” jimin says, resting his forehead on yoongi’s chest as the laughter racks through his body, “if i keep dating you i’m going to die an early death.”
“shit, i’m going to die an early death. what the fuck was that?”
“i told you. i woke up horny.”
yoongi doesn’t respond right away, jimin takes note of yoongi’s eyes watching his movements from pushing his head off of yoongi’s chest and resting his chin there instead, “well,” he hears yoongi say through a smile, “maybe you should wake up horny more often.”
jimin rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree on that.
how do i even still exist; also this one is for may! sorry for giving you false hope with my other failures of a story.
request prompts on my tumblr!
Chapter 2: yoonmin: birthdays come with great gifts.
it was midnight; the soft vibration of jimin’s cellphone underneath his pillow reminding him of the time.
he flips himself over to handle the device in his fingers, stubbornly tapping away at the alarm with eager before he shoves it back underneath the pillow. he glances around the room and decides that the chair placed in the middle of the carpet looks hilarious if it weren’t for the plans that were unravelling inside his head and he shuffles off the bed with padded footsteps to yoongi’s office, barefooted and light as he trekked down the hallway.
march ninth, twenty-three years of living, and jimin has been a part of six of them—celebrating birthdays that used to be just platonic meetings with their circle of friends, thus leading up to a relationship where he spent three birthdays with yoongi as his boyfriend and now it’s their fourth, older and more mature, but jimin still had the childish stride in himself, proving that their relationship was anything but dull. although at times, yoongi found it hard to keep up but he loved the surprises nonetheless.
“yoongi it’s midnight,” jimin says softly, opening the door of the office wearing one of yoongi’s work shirts—a white button up, big enough to reach his thighs since yoongi had always liked loose-fitting clothes than tight—and a pair of pink briefs, alarmingly bright inside the dimmed room, “why are you still working?”
at first the noise of his words goes unheard, yoongi’s pale and long fingers typing away at his laptop with his eyes focused on the illuminated screen rather than on jimin, but then he coughs loud enough for the sound to travel into yoongi’s ears and then the other looks up.
“i’m sorry, what?” the older asks, looking up with a flutter of eyelashes, pale blond hair flowing like beautiful strands against the buzzed black, two-block haircut looking so handsomely fitting on yoongi’s small face. jimin doesn’t miss the way the older’s eyes glisten from the glow of the screen, ends of his mouth curling at the sight of jimin walking in with nothing but the shirt and undies, thick tanned thighs strutting towards the older. “what about it being midnight?”
“it’s your birthday,” jimin responds, his own smile plastering against his lips when yoongi looks at him with so much love—it’s enough to still make his heart pounce and thrive inside his ribcage, “and i want to give you a present.”
“you know how much i hate presents.”
“well this isn’t really anything you have to open,” jimin adds, “just come into the bedroom and you’ll see what i’m about to give you.”
yoongi cocks his eyebrow at this, cute smirk still on his lips when jimin grabs him by the wrist before pulling the older out of his seat and leading him towards the door. “i’m worried,” he hears from yoongi, voice not really ensuing concern but rather just saying it to go along, “why does your present have to be from the bedroom?”
“i said you’ll see. now stop asking questions.”
the older grows silent at this, and jimin was thankful for it, allowing him to pull yoongi with quick but steady strides into their shared bedroom with little conversation. he motions for yoongi to sit down on the chair when they finally reached destination, which yoongi followed but not without flashing a questionable look in his eyes at jimin.
“don’t look at me like that.” the youngest says, trotting back over to the bed where his phone was still buried underneath the pillow before plugging it into the aux plug of the radio and hitting ‘play’ on a playlist he’s made earlier in the day. “now, just sit back and enjoy the show.”
the way yoongi was sitting was hilariously cute and almost ruined jimin’s exterior of playing sexy; his boyfriend looked like a little school boy getting caught in something naughty—eyes widening just a fraction when the music finally floods through the speakers, a soft and steady beat of rhythm and blues. jimin glances down at yoongi’s hands which were placed on the curve of his kneecaps, where they were uncomfortably close together and moves his eyes up to his chest, where his back was suddenly straight and stiff, like he was at alert.
“you can relax, you know,” jimin says, chuckling softly when yoongi’s eyes fade from widened triangles to the familiar fox-like gaze that caught jimin’s attention years ago, “i kind of need you to relax if you don’t want to break any of the bones in your body.”
it seems that yoongi understood, lips pouting just slightly as he settled his arms off his kneecaps and onto the sides of the chair, where they dangled but didn’t look out of place. moving his back so it rested against the chair, he was about to open his mouth and ask what exactly were jimin’s intentions but gets cut off with the thrum of the blood rushing into his ears and the small elicit noise coming from the younger’s mouth.
jimin gives a smile, but it soon turns into a smirk when the eyes of his boyfriend bore over the expanse of his thighs and cheeks, already flushed pink from the adrenaline that flooded into his system. his lips were still parted from the small noise he made with a curled tongue, thick lips plush with tinge of red, full and pouted into a shape of a small ‘o.’
that’s it, he thinks, i got you right where i want you.
he decides to then brush his fingers to the collar of yoongi’s shirt he was wearing, unbuttoning the first two circles so that it was enough to display his clavicles, enough to expose his tanned décolleté, just enough skin to leave the imagination running wild and to push yoongi’s buttons just that much further—which was successful it seems, because the dry gulp in yoongi’s throat doesn’t go unnoticed.
the music is sensual, a strum of beats and instruments that leave a tingling sensation on the small of jimin’s back before it travels up his spine and curls hotly around his neck, goosebumps already forming against his skin as he gently sways his hips—“like what you see, baby?” he says, voice dripping with a kind of velour that knocks yoongi’s head back against the tops of the chair.
“mm,” yoongi replies back, eyes blown over into a half-lidded haze, dark lust pooling around the edges of his eyes as he looks through his lashes at jimin, chest slightly heaving up and down.
jimin is relentless when it comes to teasing with yoongi’s eyes prowling against his skin, mind bogglingly irritating but bittersweet that the older couldn’t touch him just yet, but was allowed to partake in the state of mental undressing—his fingers slowly wrapping along the small buttons with deft movements, full hips maneuvering with the momentum of bass like it was the easiest thing for jimin to do.
that being to wreck yoongi, to milk out yoongi’s thoughts into a knock of sensuality and sex. to make yoongi derailed and passionate for jimin’s skin, make the older think about tongue against the lines of ass, the soft pouts of lips, the harsh jut of hipbones and muscle that was slowly starting to harden inside the pink fabric of his underwear.
and so yoongi watches, eyes hawking with every push and sway of hips—enough to make his mouth go dry from how fucking hot his boyfriend looks at the state they were in. teasing; stripping so exasperatingly slow, the fifth button barely popped off from the hole of the shirt by the time it takes for yoongi to breathe twice, slow breaths turning into a concave of gulps of dry air and thirst.
“watch me,” jimin says slowly, voice dragging out the last syllable into a lewd whisper, “never take your eyes off of me,” he takes steps forward, body just mere inches apart from yoongi’s position in the chair and he slowly brings a hand out to caress the sides of his boyfriend’s cheeks.
he waits for a response, muted words coming in a few seconds later, a bated breath that leads into a slight moan when jimin finds his way into yoongi’s hair, gripping tightly for an answer before he receives a breathless,
the song changes into something more seductive right on cue with yoongi’s words. jimin’s heart pounds in his chest as he adjusts himself so his thighs were on each side of yoongi’s legs—“you can put your hands on my hips,” he states, and makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat when his boyfriend softly lays warm palms over his hips, but there was a hindrance—“put your hands on my hips underneath my shirt,” he reiterates, pushing his mouth close to the shell of yoongi’s ear, “how can you perceive how good i feel right now when you’re being so careless?”
“god i love when you talk like this,” yoongi breaks, groaning low in his chest when jimin decides to bite against his earlobe, tongue dancing out just for a second before he moans hotly with a tickling breath.
jimin feels yoongi’s hands now, calloused palms grazing on the outside of his thighs before rubbing slowly towards his hips and settling comfortably on the soft curves as he moves his hips forward, adjusting himself so he was standing up again, mouth detached from yoongi’s ears.
“how do i feel, babe?” he says, hips coinciding with the rhythm of the song, he looks down to see that yoongi had pushed his shirt over his ass and up onto his stomach, bright pink underwear exposed for yoongi’s eyes to stare at the erection already forming inside the fabric.
“soft,” the older responds, licking his lips as his mouth suddenly goes dry with the forward thrust of the younger’s hips, “delicate,” he adds, the bob of jimin’s cock inside his underwear already wetting the surface of cotton and turning the pink into a deeper shade of magenta, “thick as fuck,” he moans when jimin’s fingers trail down to the hem of his briefs, pulling at the elastic band so yoongi could get just a glance of the head of jimin’s cock before it snaps back onto the surface of tanned flesh.
if teasing was what jimin was doing before, it was now in a state of downright taunting.
he suddenly glides his ass over the line of yoongi’s bulge, slow and fucking demanding attention to that area and he’s satisfied when he sees the stitch in the older’s brows, mouth parted enough to see wet tongue begging for a taste of skin and then he shifts his hips back, yoongi’s eyes falling closed from the impact of him riding so smoothly against yoongi's clothed dick and jimin could see how hard it was for yoongi to hold himself back from taking over control.
bless his boyfriend to playing nice; because jimin definitely wasn’t.
“you’re killing me,” yoongi says with a dry laugh since his throat was too parched from arousal, “you’re fucking killing me, park jimin.” he says again, resting his forehead on jimin’s chest and gasping when jimin only moves tightly over the older’s lap.
“that’s my job. seeing as it’s your birthday and i want to give you the best present.” jimin cooed, hips never stuttering through his words—if anything, the pressure became more severe.
“by giving me a lapdance that’s about to make me cum right on the spot?”
jimin laughs, the words were strained and tickled his sternum, and then he smiles widely when a thought brushes into the forefront of his mind.
yoongi chokes out a, “w-what?”
“i said undress me.” jimin repeats, “try undressing me while i ride you out like this.”
it’s moments before yoongi finally moves, but when he does it’s not without a stagger in his fingers. and goddamn does jimin relish in the expert precisions, his ass grinding harsher now—closer, with every inch of plush against hard muscle, mewls coming out of his lips as the older tries his hardest to concentrate on the task of undressing jimin with quick and sloppy movements.
yoongi groans loudly, surprised fingers clutching at the texture of white when jimin deliberately grinds down hard, enough to knock the younger’s own head back with a loud keen running off his tongue and his short breath flattening inside his chest. he whines, grinds, does everything he can to substitute the hindered friction for something more real, moving his hands so they were placed onto the slope of yoongi’s shoulders and then he slides himself upwards a little, yoongi catching him in the middle of the motion before wrapping his arms around jimin’s waist.
they steady the position—yoongi planting the soles of his feet down against the carpet, jimin’s ass now on his boyfriend’s stomach and he releases a hand on yoongi’s shoulder before moving it back to the hem of his underwear.
“look at how wet i am,” he gasps, pulling down the pink cotton with swift fingers, head of his cock bouncing up and leaking precum against the slopes of his soft abs, “look at how fucking wet you make me.”
“i’m not doing anything at all,” yoongi mutters back, taking a breath when jimin fixes his position so he was seated back in yoongi’s lap, underwear still placed on the underside of his cock, the momentum enough to have it bounce as he sits, “you’re doing this to yourself.”
“with the help of you,” and with the reply comes the movement of jimin circling his hips, milking out the sensations of yoongi’s heated stare on his cock, the flare of fire burning at the pit of their bellies, and it takes so much for jimin to not ask yoongi to fuck him right then and there but instead he—“stay still.”
he stands up, grabbing hold onto yoongi’s hands so that the other's fingers were pushed into the hem of his underwear, gliding them off with the help of yoongi’s fingers.
“fuck,” yoongi croaks, mouth slick with saliva as he tries his hardest to not shove his head onto jimin’s cock, beautiful and standing so erect with the sound of music still thrumming in the background, “let me taste you, baby.”
“no,” jimin slides yoongi’s fingers down further, until the astray of pink drifts all the way down to his ankles and he steps out of them.
he kicks the fabric aside before getting onto his knees and throwing yoongi’s hands off of him. he forces his head in-between his boyfriend’s thighs, lips finally meeting contact with the denim of yoongi’s jeans, grazing against the tent in the other’s pants, up and down, tongue wetting the denim until it’s a dark blue. he flicks his eyes up, piercing his gaze into yoongi’s own with a whimper when the eye contact deepens into a whirlpool of lust and arousal.
moving his mouth up, eyes still transfixed on fox eyes and blown pupils, he angles his jaw and catches yoongi’s zipper with his teeth, biting down with a lewd expression on his face before pulling down the metal with a loud moan escaping his lips. he catches the twitch in the other’s lips—a forced back moan—and smirks with the taste of metallic still on his tongue.
and then he lets go, but not without diving his fingers in.
but it’s not like jimin wants to perform fellatio, no, he had other things in mind. so he continues undressing yoongi with swift movements, motioning for the other to buck his hips up enough for jimin to pull down the layers of clothing and with a slight bob, yoongi’s cock gets exposed, head already dripping wet with precum enough for jimin’s mouth to salivate. then he grips yoongi’s cock, a surprised hiss coming out of the other’s mouth, pumping the muscle until the sight of more transparent white floods down onto his fingers, lubricating the digits with warm liquid.
“if we’re going to fuck,” yoongi breathes, chest heaving with every fisted movement, “we should get lube.”
jimin smirks, “we’re not going to fuck.” he says and then he stands back up, fingers moving so yoongi’s cock is bare—the sudden movement making the older jerk his hips up at the loss of contact—and then he plants his ass right on top of yoongi’s lap. “i’m going to ride you out.”
“shit,” yoongi drags out, head knocking back while his hands are placed onto the curve of jimin’s hips once again, fingernails digging so harshly against the skin it has the younger hissing, “f—uck.”
the contact is heady, finesse lost the very moment it takes for jimin’s ass to glide through the wonderful slide of yoongi’s precum against his skin. the movements are easy—with jimin’s own precum dribbling out onto his cock and yoongi’s so thick against him—“ah,” he moans loudly, fingers clutching into the hairs on the back of yoongi’s head, pulling and grinding his hips now that the slide was lubricated and not obscured with fabric.
“c-can you cum like this?” yoongi asks with a deep stutter, seoul dialect now lost in the midst of jimin’s hips, his own hometown lazy slur attacking his tongue—but this only makes jimin move faster, brutal, “b-baby, can you cum like this?”
jimin shakes his head, annoyed and a little frantic, “this isn’t about me, yoongi—fuck,” he stills his movements when yoongi’s cock slides into the cracks of his ass, blunt tip making a target against his perineum. he gasps for air before he continues the slide, “this is about—ah—you.”
“like hell it is,” and before jimin could even react, yoongi shifts himself up, bucking his hips with brute force and jimin gasps loudly as the older’s girth continues to glide against his entrance. “we’re fucking doing it my way now,” yoongi spits, standing up and adjusting jimin’s legs around his waist before walking up to the bed and throwing jimin against the bedsheets.
jimin feels himself bounce from the momentum, eyes blown so amazingly wide that his chocolate brown eyes turn into a muddle of dark, almost black, and he watches with whines coming out his mouth as his boyfriend crawls up towards his body.
“what are you—”
and the sensation that floods from jimin’s toes hurdle into his system like electricity, yoongi’s fingers expertly finding their way to jimin’s cock, sliding the both of their cocks together into a fluid motion of one—“fuck, fuck, yoongi!”—slick and wet, thick and heady enough to have jimin arching his back against the bedsheets, hands flying out across the surface of white to clutch the fabric in-between his fingers to stay steady.
yoongi flicks his wrist, thumbing over the both of their slits while aching for jimin to get louder, “come on, let me hear you,” jimin hears him say, cracked groans coming out between the words, dripped in lavish velvet, “don’t stay quiet.”
it’s all it takes for jimin to lose control, mouth babbling words that sound like a mush of compliments, curses, filthy praises of his boyfriend’s fingers pulling at the both of their cocks so wonderfully well, enough to have jimin’s hand fly out and grip around his yoongi’s hand, using his own strength to get them to where they wanted to be.
“yoongi, yoongi,” jimin licks his lips, “i’m so close.”
the older slides his hands down and grips onto the base with a firm hold, numbing the prickling heat into a dull fire before he looks down into jimin’s eyes with a devilish smile, “not yet.”
jimin feels the frustration brim over his eyes, speckles of white pleasure flooding into the back of his eyelids as he shoots a curse from his lips, orgasm already brushed away that it almost hurts, but the familiar stroke of yoongi’s hands underneath his own has him keening again, but this time with much more fervor.
high pitched whines cascading down into a mewl of satisfaction when yoongi doesn’t let up—fingers quickening just as fast as it takes for jimin’s orgasm to come back underneath his skin with full force. his thighs clench and he bites down on his lip when yoongi does something fucking mind-blowing with his wrist and jimin spills over, orgasm wrenching out of his body when the older leans down and kisses him on the mouth.
yoongi drinks up the moans, the whines, the keens, the breaths and gasps, drinks it up until he’s full with jimin’s voice and pours out his own onto jimin’s neck as his own orgasm hits him, fingers relentlessly still pumping so that they could both ride out their highs.
“s-stop, yoongi,” jimin hisses, oversensitivity marking his skin into a flush of pink and red, sighing in relief when yoongi finally stops and falls forward onto his chest with heaving breaths.
the silence that ensues after is full of gasps, minds finally dulling over into normality, and jimin blinks for a few moments to catch his breath before turning to look over at his boyfriend still sprawled hilariously over the bed.
“so,” he starts, popping his lips together when yoongi lazily moves his head to look at him, “was… that a good birthday present?”
yoongi stares. and then chuckles with disbelief when jimin pouts, “yes, baby, that was perfect.”
yoongi shuffles to turn off the music with an irritated groan and then he sits up in bed, running a hand through the messy locks of his hair and then he shakes his head in amusement, “aren’t you tired?”
“what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t have the stamina of a race horse?”
“sucks for you, cause i don’t.”
(jimin finds out that it was all talk.
round two did indeed happen. after a shower and inside yoongi’s office.)
for May and my friend, the fujoshi princess, Ann, who's beta'd most of my ideas before i post them.
me: "hey is there a specific word for two cocks touching?"
may: "just... 2 diddly doos touching."
Chapter 3: yoonmin: keep watch, don't stray your eyes
sometimes yoongi just enjoys watching jimin fall apart.
yoongi/jimin, yoonmin, 2.1k~
consensual voyeurism, solo masturbation, sex toys
dedicated to may mvp, happy twenty first! ❤︎ wish i was there celebrating with you.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
the spark in yoongi’s eyes is outstandingly glaring even from this position in bed, but jimin finds that he doesn’t mind the hot gaze on his skin—after all, the reason this started in the first place was the intent for a show.
his shirt is already halfway unbuttoned, the sheen of sweat against his matted fringe alleviating some of the warmth that floods across his cheeks. but yoongi’s presence doesn’t exactly diminish the tight bundle of nerves in jimin’s stomach, no, it only makes the severity of it stronger. he licks his lips as the older’s eyes flick towards his thighs, slick and honey warm, plush in all the right areas and brawn all the same. he’s thankful that his most proud asset is so appreciated, so loved, because yoongi’s praise for his body only makes him that much more confident.
“c-can i?” he asks, stuttering out the question more than he liked but the other’s eyes still stay the same, unwavering and firm, “please hyung, can i?”
he watches as the other dodges his eyes briefly from jimin’s thighs to the toy laying next to his knees and jimin doesn’t miss the fire that suddenly ignites in yoongi’s eyes, making the anticipation for some much needed friction more heady. it’s growing tight inside his briefs and he could already feel the precum leaking from the tips, dampening the cotton of his underwear.
yoongi nods his head with a faint smirk spreading across his lips, “go for it,” he assents and it’s almost ridiculous how much his voice makes jimin pant out softly, body already way too eager, “as long as you make sure i can see,” he adds, adjusting himself on the chair comfortably before resting an elbow on the armrest.
jimin shifts so he could move his panties down, wringing the fabric away from his fingers as quick as it takes for him to be fully undressed. he shakes as he brings his hand towards the side of his legs, mouth falling open from the very thought of finally getting what he wanted (what yoongi wanted too) and he sits up a little, spreading his thighs open just in time for the older’s eyes to switch his attention in the right place. jimin falters a little in his position as he snakes his free fingers around a bottle of lube on the other side of his legs, but the movement seems to only make yoongi more pleased as the other only smirks deeper when it happens.
“eager?” yoongi asks and it takes all of jimin’s might to not whine out carelessly because of course he is, of course he’s eager for this.
he doesn’t say anything instead, opening the cap of the lube before dispensing just the right amount across his fingers, slipping the thick liquid evenly until it was warm enough. it’s then that he completely sprawls his legs open, scooting himself backwards a little on the bed until he was fully able to bring a finger down to his opening, motioning circles that felt not enough but enough to spike tantalizing pinpricks to form across his skin.
he gasps, “oh,” slacking his jaw as he pushes the digit inside, feeling the walls of his body reacting so familiarly until he spreads himself open with a second finger. this time it’s a little more tight, this time it’s the way yoongi’s eyes hawk over the movements that cause him to whine out and not his own actions, not the way the digits push inside further until it made his knees weak.
“this feels so good,” he whispers out, thrusting his fingers inside before he clenches around them, skin already pleasantly buzzing as he adjusts around the pressure, “so, so good.”
“keep going,” yoongi eggs on, “think you can do three?”
jimin doesn’t even think twice about that question, thrusting his fingers a few more times before he wriggles in a third, spine careening a little from the way it hurts but the pain gives after a few more moments. he pants out a sob, head falling to the side on his shoulders as he rocks his hips down and out, swivels it until the push was smooth and easy, until his body finally caved in.
“hyung,” he breathes out, arm struggling to keep balance on top of the bedsheets as the pleasure ignites severely in the pits of his belly, “hyung,” he moans again, hiking his knees further apart until he the small of his back was resting on the sheets.
“i’m watching, baby. don’t worry,” the older licks his lips, shifting his head back so that it was resting on the tops of the chair.
jimin nods while a shaky breath escapes his lips. he tries his hardest to focus on the momentum of his fingers but finds that the friction just wasn't enough. his body was still craving more and the desire in yoongi’s eyes looked like they begged for the same. so, he moves his fingers out of his body and wipes them against his thighs, reaching for that lube bottle again but this time with the intent to lube up the dildo and not his fingers.
“jimin,” the older’s voice comes in as a surprise and the younger snaps his head up, “i want you to do something for me.”
“yeah?” jimin stills his movements, resting his hands on the tip of the toy before nodding his head.
“wet it with your mouth first,” yoongi states, moving his legs apart just a fraction so that jimin could see the tent that was already forming inside his pants, “fuck it with your mouth before you lube it up. y’think you could do that for me?”
jimin’s heart jumps in excitement and he smiles warmly before he says, “okay,” and places the dildo flat against the surface of the foot table so that it was standing erect. he moves his position so he was on all fours, steadying his gaze on his boyfriend’s face while he adjusts his knees on the bed.
yoongi’s eyes grow dark as soon as jimin lowers his mouth onto the thick tip of the silicone, eyes never faltering in it’s gaze when jimin gives a particularly loud suck.
the younger couldn’t deny that it was a little awkward, performing fallatio on something other than yoongi’s cock, but it somehow excited him to the point where he was moaning loud over the toy, supposing that if yoongi wanted it—asked for it—jimin would be comfortable with it. but the actions soon diminished from being awkward to him full on enjoying it, with his mind wrapping around an imagination of him sucking yoongi off instead, and a loud whine rips through his throat as he shoves his mouth further down against the base of the cock.
“fuck,” he hears the older groan and this edges him on. he made sure his jaw was lax enough for him to continue, moving his head up before he takes a deep breath and inches his mouth completely down until he felt the tip of the dildo hit the back of his throat.
“mm,” he moans, moving a free hand to his own cock as he fists down. he sees yoongi’s cock twitch underneath the fabric of his pants, which only made jimin’s movements become more hasty, greedy, and he deep throats the cock once again until tears spring from the corner of his eyes.
“stop,” yoongi demands, the flush on the older’s cheeks was now present, a tinge of pink across milky white and jimin couldn’t help but smirk when he finally pops his mouth off of the toy.
yoongi was never easily wavered, but during the times that jimin was able to get a reaction out of him, it made the younger’s heart swell with pride. the stitches marked in-between yoongi’s eyebrows was definitely there (definitely turned the fuck on, for that matter) and jimin switches his position once again so that he was sitting on the edges of the bed with his feet placed on the surface of the foot table.
“i-i’m ready,” jimin mutters, hoping that he could finally continue and when yoongi doesn’t say anything further, jimin takes this as leeway.
he moves to grab the dildo and lube, squirting the liquid until it was drenched. he ignores the faint taste of silicone on his tongue as he gets more comfortable, skin firing up heat as soon as he positions the toy right against his entrance. jimin holds his hand there, pausing just for a couple of heartbeats, gauging in yoongi’s attention with his eyes before he finally pushes the toy inside.
“oh my—god,” he gasps out, the wonder spreading across his features as the sensation of being so filled overtakes his limbs. he instantly falls back a little from the movement, mouth parting open as he pushes the cock all the way to the hilt.
“shit, jimin,” yoongi mutters and jimin hears the way the older’s voice cracks, “you take it so well.”
jimin whines, pushing the toy out before he slides it back in, “b-because,” he gasps, “you’re watching,” he thrusts his hips down, “and i want this to be perfect.”
jimin falls onto his back as a cracked out moan falls from his lips. he moves his thighs so far apart that it feels so foreign to be splayed out in the open like this, but the awareness of being so stark effaces from his mind as soon as he grips a tight fist over his cock.
“h-hyung,” he pumps up, right on tune with sliding the dildo out from inside of him, “don’t take your eyes off me, watch me fall apart,” he begs, rocking his hips down until his walls clench from his senses exploding, “i-i want you to see what you do to me.” he gasps when he moves a finger down to his balls, fondling the skin with his hand still thrusting.
“you’re fucking beautiful,” yoongi sighs, “so goddamned beautiful.”
the praise goes straight to jimin’s bones. he fists over his cock once again, voice reaching high pitched whines as his hips find the right momentum with the toy. he’s breaking, he’s falling apart, his body is soaring high amongst the clouds of nine and sweat starts to pour down his cheeks. he’s so close and all he wants is for yoongi to make sure he sees it, makes sure yoongi sees how utterly fucked and whipped he is for his boyfriend that he’d do this just for him.
“i’m gonna cum,” he sobs, “i’m gonna—”
what happens next sends harsh shivers to run down jimin’s spine, it makes him crack a loud scream from his throat and makes him arch his back so high off the bed that he finds himself getting dizzy. not only did he miss the sound of yoongi’s zipper somehow, but he failed to notice the heat of another body invading his space.
he only realizes it when yoongi shoves himself in-between his legs, only notices it when he’s pushed a fraction up onto the bed so yoongi’s knees had room on the foot table, only notices it when the dildo is replaced with yoongi’s own cock and feels it when yoongi slams his hips inside.
jimin chokes and quickly wraps his legs around yoongi’s waist as soon as the older starts thrusting in deeper, faster. the pace is brutal, but when yoongi angles his hips just enough to hit against his prostate, jimin finds himself not even fucking caring, not when the pleasure explodes from underneath his eyelids with the feeling of his cock slapping against stomach.
“cum for me, jimin,” yoongi grunts, the clench of jimin’s walls surrounding his cock makes him aware of the orgasm that was brimming underneath jimin’s skin, “let go.”
and it only takes yoongi wrapping a firm grip over jimin’s cock and a few more solid thrusts for the orgasm to rip through jimin’s body. it overwhelms him, the tears falling down his cheeks as yoongi bottoms out with his own orgasm hitting, hips marginally moving at a slower pace so that they could relish in the blissful high.
jimin is fucked out, chest heaving with deep breaths when the numbing sensation starts to cool across his skin. he smells the musk and sweat but couldn’t care less about the way it infiltrates the room, not when yoongi looks so ethereal with sweat dancing along the sides of his face.
“shit,” the older hisses as he pulls out, collapsing next to jimin on the bed before he repeats the word again and laughs.
jimin’s lungs felt like they were on fire from the exertion to catch his breath, but the way yoongi looks at him with so much love when they finally make eye contact makes him feel like it was all worth it.
Chapter 4: yoonmin: watch me pretty
canon compliant (non au, although i didn't delve into their relationship too much in this), mirrors, praise kink
ref photo of park jimin ruining your life?
for prompt submission: praise kink + mirrors
very interesting prompt! thank you for submitting!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
the dance studio lights always shined the prettiest against jimin’s skin, but it seems tonight it’s downright beautiful.
and yoongi doesn’t take his eyes off—not with the sight of glistening sweat cascading down flushed tan, or the honey warm thick of jimin’s thighs captivating his attention more so than anything else that surrounds them. but it also doesn’t help that the younger is only sporting a thin white t-shirt and loose sweatpants, the bounce of his thighs through the fabric leaves no room for yoongi’s imagination.
he tries his hardest to steer his eyes away from the mirrors and focus on something else, like shifting his feet in tune with the music, stretching his arms like he was waiting for jimin to finish the routine but his tongue suddenly goes dry when a particular move makes jimin’s cock bounce underneath his sweatpants and it’s then that the fire starts crawling up yoongi’s neck. he feels his mouth wrench with dehydration, a pounce in jimin’s footwork only making the previous image burn bright against the older’s eyes.
every shift in the younger’s step, flex of muscles that yoongi wants to run his palms down against, and tongue that dances out occasionally from jimin’s lips only makes yoongi feel more inclined to just break the radio before delving deep against jimin’s skin—he wants it, needs it, and the way jimin continues to move so innocently without knowing the trouble it’s causing him, makes the older that much more turned on.
yoongi’s about to lose his mind when the song finally starts to filter out, fading into only a small mumble before the studio bares nothing but jimin’s heavy breathing (and the blood rushing in yoongi’s ears). the older watches with blown eyes when jimin turns around, chest heaving with breaths from practicing, sweat falling against the sides of his cheeks and he brings a hand up to pat against the trails.
“did i do well, hyung?” jimin asks, smiling bright when his eyes finally focus on yoongi’s form in the back of the room, “i’ve been practicing this routine for a few days now. i think i’m getting it.”
yoongi is not good with words. instead he licks his lips and takes a step forward, “mm,” he agrees, nodding his head just slightly before he continues walking forward, “jimin.”
“huh?” the younger looks up, sweeping a hand through the strands of his hair so the fringe falls away from his face, “what is it?”
“come here,” yoongi puts a hand out, “come here for a second.”
jimin gives a look of question but doesn’t think more of the demand, moving forward to catch yoongi’s hand in his own before intwining the fingers slightly even through his sweaty palms. he’s about to open his mouth when yoongi doesn’t say anything, about to ask why yoongi wanted him here in the first place but then,
“you know which part i liked the most?” yoongi lets his voice knock down an octave when he poses the question, releasing his hold on jimin’s fingers before he moves them to the younger’s hips.
and jimin notices how the air changes, how it becomes heady, thick, and a spark filters into his eyes when yoongi gazes down to his lips, “what part?” he breathes out, biting his bottom lip when yoongi squeezes his hands tight against his hips.
yoongi takes the time to relish the heat underneath his palms, the younger’s damp shirt radiating sweat but it feels so good like this. feels so good to have jimin in his hold like this. he turns the boy around, watching as jimin’s eyes move from a faraway place in the mirror to a steadying gaze against yoongi’s own. as soon as the attention falls on him, yoongi moves his mouth close to jimin’s earlobe, fanning out a breath before he replies, “i liked this part the most,” he moves a palm down towards jimin’s clothed cock, smiling when the younger gasps out in shock—but the pleasure is there, it’s imminent.
“hyung,” jimin's breathless and yoongi feels it against his skin, the way the younger heaves a pant before exhaling a moan has his mouth moving open, biting and licking against the shell of the boy’s ear.
“you look so damn pretty underneath these lights,” yoongi groans as jimin presses his hips back instantaneously, “you look fucking wonderful when you dance, always giving your best,” he continues, moving his mouth underneath jimin’s ear before biting softly, “you’re the best, jiminie. no one could even compare.”
when the praises fall from yoongi’s lips it only makes jimin become more pliant in his arms. he feels the boy knock his head back, a loud moan ripping from jimin’s throat when yoongi massages against his growing erection. they both don’t care in what circumstances they were in right now—sweaty, clothes sticking uncomfortably to jimin’s skin and yoongi’s so far gone he’s sure he looks worse than jimin does. but the thoughts efface when jimin bounces his ass against yoongi’s lap, everything starts getting more heavy when jimin moves a hand back to grip against yoongi’s ass so they were that much closer.
“more, hyung,” jimin begs, eyes faltering just a moment and yoongi catches the way jimin’s mouth goes slack in their reflection, “gimme more, please.”
“god, you’re so fucking needy,” he replies, hands coming up before pushing underneath the boy’s sweatpants and underwear, “fuck,” he groans, feeling the warmth all too quickly when jimin helps him pull the fabric down, underwear and sweatpants falling towards mid-thigh. yoongi lets his eyes fall, moaning when he sees how hard jimin is already, “and beautiful, ‘minie.”
yoongi feels the younger tense up, all in time for his palms to meet around the base of the boy’s cock. he pumps up—jimin gasps here, a soft whine emitting soon after; he pumps down—jimin moans loudly here, hips jumping forward when the slick trail of precum dances out of the tip of his cock to decorate yoongi’s fingers. the cycle repeats, but not before, “look at yourself in the mirror,” yoongi demands, using his free hand to push jimin’s shirt up, abs rippling from the motion of yoongi’s hand job, “look at how good you look falling apart in my hands.”
yoongi feels jimin’s reluctance, but he kisses against jimin’s jaw to edge him on. his eyes focus on jimin’s face, mouth biting soft hickeys against the boy’s neck, the sweat on his tongue tasting delicious now that they were in this predicament. and he smirks when jimin makes eye contact with him, “watch,” he mouths over the curve of skin.
jimin moves his eyes down in the mirror, holding a breath when yoongi starts pumping once again but this time with a more fast pace, “oh,” he cracks out, licking his lips when his mouth suddenly goes dry. yoongi sees how jimin moves his eyes back and forth, from their faces to his cock and yoongi’s hands, and it sparks such a delirium that yoongi has to bite down hard against the younger’s neck to steady himself.
jimin keens from the surprising pain. it’s a sound that tears from the back of his throat, eyes growing dark and half-lidded when yoongi thumbs over the head of his cock.
“do you see how pretty you are like this?” yoongi asks, moving his hands faster when jimin pushes his ass harder into his lap, “do you wanna watch yourself fall apart like this, jiminie? wanna watch how easily i can make you cum?”
“p-please, hyung,” jimin croaks out, neck craning and knees wobbling to keep his balance, but yoongi has a firm hold, making sure that the younger doesn’t tip towards the floor, “ah, please, i wanna cum.”
“mm, i love when you beg,” yoongi groans, pumping with a brutal pace, gripping just right before releasing his hold and just when the younger is about to whine, he does it all over again. gripping firmly, flicking his wrist so that his palm grasped in all the areas he knew would get jimin to his orgasm quicker.
“oh my god, hyung—hyung!”
yoongi tightens his fist just enough to hold back the younger’s orgasm. the protests leave jimin’s mouth, an onslaught of whines and curses, begs and sobs infiltrate the air in whispers, but yoongi doesn’t move. “keep your eyes on the mirror,” he demands, “i won’t let you cum until you remember this.”
“okay,” jimin breathes out, moving his eyes back onto the mirror before gulping down into his throat, “please.”
yoongi starts up again, making sure to move languid and slow at first, dragging out each movement until jimin was way past the point of sensitive. the boy was writhing, chest jumping forward and back, teeth continuously biting down onto his bottom lip from how slow yoongi moved. but yoongi decides then to pick up the speed, pumping up with the momentum of jimin rocking his hips back onto his lap, his own cock twitching in his pants when he feels the curve of ass sitting so heavily against him. he pumps down sharply, dipping his thumb into the slit of jimin’s head so that the precum seeps into his fingers, making the slide much easier.
“i-i’m close, hyung,” jimin chokes with his eyes on yoongi’s face, even when his head bobs back a little from the rush in his head, “i’m so close.”
“then, let go,” is all yoongi says before he moves his hand that was keeping jimin’s shirt up to the younger’s balls, fondling them in time with his pumps, “let us both see you let go, huh?”
jimin’s head tilts in the mirror, both of their eyes watching close as his stomach clenches with a brimming orgasm. his eyes water down into dark pools as he moans so loud when the pleasure hits. his hips rock out on reflect, chest moving forward as his cry turns into a keen, and yoongi’s there, holding that position close to him before he thrusts up with a brute force, bucking his clothed erection into the curve of jimin’s ass.
“fuck!” jimin chokes, moving his hips back as his cum spills over yoongi’s fingers and the floor, painting the surface in such a pretty white that yoongi groans loud before he bucks up again, pushing the younger’s body forward from the impact.
it takes jimin a moment to gather himself, heavy breaths flattening out to soft ones, yoongi’s hands finally leaving the other’s body before he moves over to the studio desk to grab tissues. he’s wiping his hands clean when he hears the boy’s footsteps approach behind him.
“hyung, we’re not done,” jimin says and there’s mirth in his voice, along with the exhaustion but jimin was never one to give up so easily, “you didn’t get off yet.”
“i’m fine, jiminie. we can do this again another time, i just wanted you to feel good.” the older replies, throwing the tissue into the trashcan before turning around.
“sit down on the desk, hyung,”
and yoongi does, watching with hawking eyes and jimin falls onto his knees between his legs before a smile creeps up onto the younger’s lips and a,
“fuck my face, please.”
falls from jimin’s lips.