Park Jimin Oneshots

Crystal Formation

Slight NSFW

Jimin and you had just resolved an argument. You were arguing about how you felt Jimin wasn't making time for you and he was saying it was because of his job and that you weren't taking that into account. Earlier, you had stormed out of the house because you couldn't deal with you both arguing, but Jimin had followed you out and it had started to rain. How cliche. But instead of a cliche makeup kiss in the rain, Jimin had insisted on going inside because it was freezing.

So here you were straddling his lap while he sat on the edge of the bed, your damp clothes sticking to your skin, kissing each other so sensually but desperately. As your hands clung to his neck, his hands held your waist firmly, sometimes his fingertips digging into your flesh with lustful intensity but with a loving gentleness too.

You pulled away, resting your forehead against his, looking into his tempting eyes.

"Promise you won't walk out on an argument, we'll sort it out calmly next time," he whispered, holding out his pinky.

"I promise," you replied back in the same delicate whisper, "do you promise to try and make more time for me?"

"I promise," he said, smiling, while intertwining your pinky finger with his.

And then you were back to kissing again, perfect wasn't enough of a word to describe the way your lips moulded with his. His hands moved from your waist, under your damp shirt, his touch leaving a trail of fire - you certainly weren't going to struggle getting warm tonight. The taut fabric was coaxed up and over your head and before the fabric touched the floor, Jimin's lips were dancing on the length of your collarbone. His arms tightened around you, tugging you closer to his body. His lips felt electric on your skin, the feeling so addicting that you wanted and needed more. 

You felt his lips travel back up your neck, to your mouth, the kisses more fervent and open-mouthed, as your hands raked down his chest to the edge of his t-shirt. He pulled away watching your face, that contained the same love that he felt, as you took off the item of clothing. He loved the way you glide your fingernails lightly over his torso, the tickling sensation sending goosebumps across his body.

"All mine," you whispered, and it was almost as if he could see the invisible marks left by your fingertips.

"All yours," he whispered back.

He leaned in to grant a few pecks before landing his face in the comfort of the crook of your neck while reaching up to the clasp of your bra, quickly discarding it. As his hands appreciated the expanse of your nude back, his lips brushed against the base of your neck and he voiced his worry,

"You know I love you right?" he never lifted his gaze, "You'll never leave me?"

"I'd be a fool to," you said, tugging lightly on his hair, "I love you too."

He let out a breath he never knew he was holding in. In a way he didn't know why he asked that, he knew you loved him, but it was one of his insecurities.

Shifting his weight, he'd laid your back on the bed and you helped each other strip out of your remaining clothes. And when Jimin lowered himself onto you, locking lips again, you took the pleasure of wrapping your arms tightly around him, the feeling of skin on skin being your ecstasy. When his hand delicately hooked under the back of your knee, you gladly obliged and wrapped your legs around him. Your toes curled as you felt him bury inside you, eyes snapping open at the sudden euphoria, a satisfied moan leaving both your mouths. As soon as he moved, your hands moved over his back, your fingers sometimes settling in the dip of his spine, sometimes resting on his shoulders.

Your moans were his favourite thing, something only he was allowed to hear, something that made him want to please you until the end of time.

Your faces were only centimetres away as his hips rolled rhythmically and sensually into yours, your hot, lustful breaths hitting each other making the atmosphere claustrophobically sweet, intense.

"I love you so much."

Those words that were repeated so many times, and the moans that escaped both your mouths were the melody that would only be heard by the both of you, a melody so sacred and sinful.

Makeup sex was the best sex. That's what they said anyway, and you think they were right. But it was much more than that.