Hey, you guys know you can always leave me requests, right?
"Gaaaaah!! I give up! I'm just gonna become a nun and devote my life to Satan!" you screamed out in frustration as you slid your hand out of your pants.
It wasn't the same anyway. Your hands could never compare to his.
So small and soft and chubby. Park Jimin's hands. They were all you could think about ever since last week when you'd let him finger you for three hours on your bed. You still couldn't get the sight of him out of your mind either. He looked like an angel had sex with a devil then spat pure beauty straight out of their birth canal. When you closed your eyes, you could still see him there, fucking you with his eyes. So tempting. So dangerous. So cute.
Park Jimin.
But he was gone now and he hadn't been back since. You cursed you and your dumb dumb bubblegum brain for not asking for his number. Was it still considered just a one night stand if he hadn't left your mind since?
Oh well. That was that. You thought you'd never see him again, so you went on with your life in your own jamless way. Everywhere you went though, you yearned to see him again. Your eyes scanned the crowds every time you braved going out in public, searching for him. You never did find him again on your own, but that wasn't to say you didn't find trouble in six other devilishly handsome forms.
It was a few weeks after the Jimin incident when you felt a pair of eyes boring holes through you from across the food court. At first you thought it was just a coincidence that the very handsome man across from you just happened to be staring in your direction as you wrapped your lips around your bunlength hot dog. You spared him a small, bashful smile before turning your attention back to the wiener in your hands. But still, even after you had swallowed the whole sausage, his eyes still locked on you every time you looked.
Too handsome. Much, much too handsome. It was time to leave.
You rounded the bend past the food court leading to the bathrooms. As soon as you were in the darkened corridor, another set of steamy eyes landed on you.
There was something... knowing in those eyes. But still, you really had to shit, so you passed him by and entered the ladies' room, leaving sexy cutie guy in your past.
It didn't stop there. Inside the bathroom, more trouble waited for you. This one fucked you with his eyes even harder, so hard you could almost feel him inside you.
No longer having to shit, since you just crapped your pants, you fled. "Goddamn, he looked like a pimp," you mumbled under your breath as you sped to the freedom of the parking lot.
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you shook out your pant leg, letting the poop tumble down your leg and fall to the asphalt. The fresh air cleared your mind enough to keep you walking. You just had to make it back to your car, you told yourself, then you could fangirl without being judged.
Many squishy steps later, you thought you noticed the shape of someone familiar in the distance. So you approached him. Only, when you got close enough, it was ANOTHER hot motherfucker, so you kept walking as fast as your wee legs could carry you.
Fresh turds! When would it end?
"Ooh, mommy! Ooh, mother! Ooh, fuck me with a wet pickle named Dill!" You heard the man snicker behind you, eyes watching you as you power walked to your car. "That one was cute and hot! Fuck OFFFF!!!!!"
Slamming your brown ass to your seat, you hurriedly locked your car doors sixteen times in rapid succession. Can never be too safe when it comes to hot guys. Thinking you were now safe, you turned on your car, and let your asshole relax. A sour, trombone sounding squeetle snuck out of your keister and you sighed out in relaxation.
That's when you heard laughter coming from the backseat and you almost said 'Fuck this shit, I'm out!' and drove over a cliff. But you didn't, cuz this chapter has to have a happy ending cuz I promised. Instead, you pulled over to the side of the road, and slowly turned your head around to look in your back seat. To your horror, this is what you found.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaah! Another one!!" You abandoned all your senses and scrambled out of your car, getting half choked out by your seatbelt in the process. "Gurg!"
There was a house nearby. Your neighbor's house. Mr. F. A tender old man of about 75 years of age. He lived there with his dead husband Eustace's ghost. Rapidly your knuckles rapped on his wooden door. You took a step back, breathing deeply but much too quickly to appear sane as you talked to yourself on his doorstep.
"Okay, Y/N. You're okay. So they're hot? So what? They ain't Jimin. You're fine. As long as it ain't Jimin, you are okay."
No answer came at the door. Funny, you didn't think Mr. F. could leave the house. Not with that wooden leg of his. Maybe he had finally died at last. Just as you were about to abandon hope and call your Aunt Petunia for a ride back to sanity, you saw movement coming from the window.
"FUCK!!!!" you hollared. "Oh, no! Mr. F. They got you too! Nnonoonononoooooo! So fucking handsomeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Your voice disappeared as it was swallowed with the rest of you in the shrub in which you hid. You hid there for some time, until day flipped over into night. So long, in fact, that you had fallen asleep. You awoke to voices, thinking maybe this was all a dream.
"Is this the girl?"
"Yeah, see the eyes. Just like he described them."
"What if it's not though?"
"I'm sure it is, hyung. She even smells like he said she would."
"Alright. I'll go start the car. You tie her up."
"HIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiyaaaaaaaaaa!" You sprang up out of the bush and kicked the tallest one under the chin. His pimp hat flew off and was carried away by the wind.
"Owwie," he said glumly as he rubbed his sore jaw. "That's not nice."
"Neither is trying to kidnap meeeeeeee!" On your hands and knees you crawled between the tall one's legs. He sat on you and you knew you were finished.
Fast forward a good half hour, things weren't looking too hot for you from beneath the filter of the paper bag that had been crammed over your head. The cutehot one kept adjusting it for you, but that wasn't the point. Did they really need to tie up your hands AND your feet? You huffed out in frustration as you waited for two of them to set you down.
"Oh? What's this?" came a distantly familiar sweet voice.
"A gift. For our precious baby mochi on his birthday."
He eyed up his hyung and then watched as the paper bag was taken off of your head, revealing you and sending a pleasant smile across Jimin's sharpyetsomehowstillfuckingsoft features.
"Awwwww. For me?" he cooed. "You guysssss. You shouldn't have."
What would you do?