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Entry tags:
bts first anniversary fic fest - fill post (OPEN)
info post / contact a mod / prompt compilation
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Late Night Distractions
Pairing (or character): Suga/Jimin
Warnings: NC-17, mild breathplay
Prompt: Suga/Jimin - asphyxiation kink
The clock ticks loudly on the wall, and Yoongi is finding it really hard to concentrate on anything else but the rhythmic sound as the second hand makes each rotation around its axis.
The night is quiet and everyone else is dead to the world, leaving Yoongi alone with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company. Which, at this moment, isn’t doing him any good as his brain seems to be just as fried out as a burnt out light bulb.
Great.
He knew he shouldn’t have put that philosophy final paper off for the last minute, and now he is suffering the consequences.
This is what he gets for keeping that fool Namjoon around as his best friend.
Three consecutive days of nonstop drinking competitions on who can outlast the other, eight hours of pounding headache and dry heaving into the toilet, three hours of alternately staring blankly between his computer screen and textbook, the words dancing around his vision in a conga line of letters and punctuation marks, and Yoongi is still two thousand words short of completing his assignment that’s worth forty percent of his final grade.
Fuck.
“Ugh,” Yoongi throws himself face down on the coffee table, arms stretched out and back hunched over as he tries to relax the strain in his too dried eyes from too many hours of staring down his laptop monitor. The paper deadline is at noon the next day, and it’s already almost three in the morning. Which gives him a little less than ten hours to finish, and the only things he has typed up so far are his name, date, and subject title.
Yoongi is mumbling something along the lines of “damnit, Kim Namjoon” and “destroy” into the wooden surface when a light knock on the door catches his attention.
“What?” Yoongi blinks at the door in confusion. It’s three in the morning. Who the hell is even awake at this hour?
The knocking persists.
“Hold on!” Yoongi shouts, hauling himself off the floor. “Give me a sec!”
“Hello? Hyung?” Yoongi hears a muted voice, a voice he can recognize even in his deepest, darkest hours of sleep.
“Jimin?” Yoongi asks in surprise as he unlocks the door and swings it open. “It’s so late. What are you doing here?”
Yoongi finds Jimin standing before him, hoodie pulled low over his face, and plucking at the hems of his sleeves out of nervous habit. Which surprises him. What’s going on? What reason does Jimin have to be nervous?
“Hey hyung, you busy?” Jimin’s voice sounds a bit higher than usual, cracking on his words. And it piques Yoongi’s curiosity even more.
“Yeah, well. I have a pa-“ Yoongi begins. But he doesn’t really get the chance to finish his sentence before Jimin quickly closes the distance, crashing into Yoongi’s chest and attaching his mouth onto Yoongi’s surprised ones.
Jimin’s fists curl around the nape of Yoongi’s neck, pressing and pulling in an attempt to mesh their bodies as close as possible.
“I guess you can come in,” Yoongi laughs in between kisses, wrapping an arm around Jimin’s waist and kicking the door shut after pulling the younger all the way inside the apartment. Yoongi stumbles over a carelessly tossed shoe on the floor, staggering backwards with Jimin still clutched tightly in his embrace.
This doesn’t deter Jimin from his attack on Yoongi’s lips, slowly pushing against the elder’s chest until Yoongi’s back makes contact with the far wall.
“You know, not that I don’t absolutely love having you over,” Yoongi breathes when Jimin finally detaches long enough to start kissing down his neck. “What are you doing here? I told you I had a paper due.”
“I missed you,” Jimin mumbles in response, mouth full of Yoongi’s skin.
“I missed you too,” Yoongi moans when Jimin gives a particularly hard suck along his clavicles.
“I feel like I never see you anymore,” Jimin continues, grazing teeth against shoulders as his hood falls back from his face.
“I had finals. You had finals. We were both pretty bus-”
“Yeah, but you had enough time to hang out with Namjoonie hyung?” Jimin huffs, suddenly pulling back far enough to frown his disapproval. And Yoongi feels at a loss, missing the warmth radiating from Jimin’s body. “You don’t have enough time to even have lunch with me, but you have enough time to go out drinking with him.”
Statement, not question.
Yoongi really doesn’t know what to say to that.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he begins, playing for time. When Jimin starts inching away, Yoongi grabs him by the wrists and keeps him still. “It just kind of… happened that way,” he finishes lamely.
Jimin’s raises his brows questioningly.
“You know how Namjoon is,” Yoongi pouts, unable to find the right words to explain. His hands slide down Jimin’s wrists to lace their fingers together. “He gets all cocky and annoying. And you know I never back down from a challenge.”
“Uh huh,” Jimin hums skeptically.
“I said I’m sorry,” Yoongi slightly panics when Jimin slides his fingers out of his grasp, taking a small step back. He’s having difficulty figuring out the expression on Jimin’s face at the moment.
Why is he getting so red?
“Jimin?” Yoongi’s arms stay suspended before him as Jimin backs away. “Are you-“
His words get caught in his throat as Jiimin slowly pulls his hoodie over his head, cheeks burning brighter with every passing second.
“-okay…”
Yoongi’s voice dies out, mouth going dry when he realizes Jimin is wearing nothing under his hoodie. All bare skin, save for the thin band of lacy black choker encased around his neck.
Yoongi blinks, eyes entranced by the contrast of the lace on creamy skin.
With an awkward cough, Jimin tosses his sweater off to the side.
A slow grin stretches across Yoongi’s lips. He reaches out to run the tip of his fingers delicately across the choker.
“So, what’s this?” Yoongi steps closer, brushing his thumb over Jimin’s heated cheeks.
“I thought it might be fun,” Jimin’s voice quivers, but his gaze is steady.
“Fun,” Yoongi nods. “Right.”
“I have matching underwear,” Jimin comments, and that is all the invitation Yoongi needs to pull Jimin up into his arms and carry him away from the living room.
Jimin resumes his nibbling on Yoongi’s neck as the elder carries him down the hall, jiggling the doorknob to his room open and not bothering to close the door before unceremoniously dumping Jimin on his bed.
“Hey!”
“You’re lucky my roommate already left for the summer,” Yoongi says in a low voice, a predatory gleam in his eye.
“Is that so?” Jimin gulps, pushing himself up on his elbows. But before he can make any real movements, Yoongi grabs him by the ankles and drags him back down the bed.
Yoongi hovers over Jimin’s body, kneeling on the edge of the bed in between Jimin’s thighs.
Jimin can hear the blood thundering in his ears, heart pounding as he gazes up into Yoongi’s grinning face.
“So, how about you show me those matching panties?” Yoongi whispers, ghosting over jimin’s parted lips. He slides the palm of his hand down Jimin’s side, tracing over the slight curve of his waist, before teasing fingers dance across the hem of Jimin’s sweatpants.
“Why don’t you help me out, old man?” Jimin replies in a cheeky tone, gaining a little bit of confidence from the effect he seems to have on the elder.
Jimin can feel it in the burn of Yoongi’s hands as they travel across his body, mapping out every stretch of skin until Jimin’s blood is boiling beneath the surface. He can feel it in the insistent nip and tug of Yoongi’s teeth, kissing fervently, heatedly until Jimin’s own are red and bruised, licking his tongue across his lips that demand more attention. He can feel it in the urgency of Yoongi’s fingers as the elder tugs the last of his clothing away, tossing the sweatpants over his shoulder haphazardly across the room.
“I like it,” Yoongi breathes, taking in all of Jimin’s body in his black laced glory. The lace underwear he’s sporting does nothing in the way of hiding his growing bulge straining against the thin material. And Yoongi thinks Jimin looks criminally hot.
“You’re still wearing clothes,” Jimin whines, back arching off the mattress and clinging onto Yoongi’s back as Yoongi traces his lips lightly up the plane of Jimin’s stomach, dropping soft kisses here and there until he’s once again bruising Jimin’s lips with another heated kiss.
“That can be fixed,” Yoongi smiles as he pulls away, Jimin’s fingernails scratching lightly into his skin as his hands fall back onto the bed. Jimin watches with rapt attention as Yoongi slowly, deliberately, pulls his t-shirt up over his head, tossing the piece of fabric somewhere along the floor near Jimin’s sweats.
Yoongi’s philosophy paper and its imminent due date is all but forgotten as he kicks off his boxers and flannel pajama pants, also joining the rest of their clothing on the floor.
“Hands and knees,” Yoongi commands with a flick of the wrist.
“So bossy,” Jimin wrinkles his nose, but follows his orders immediately as Yoongi walks over to his dresser to dig through his sock drawer for his bottle of lube and condoms.
“Good boy,” Yoongi saunters back to the bed, Jimin glancing over his shoulder to stick out his tongue.
Re: Late Night Distractions
“Ow!”
“You keep running that mouth of yours,” Yoongi drops the condom and uncaps the lube, squeezing out a generous amount onto his palm. “And I just,” he slides his lube slicked fingers up in between Jimin’s crack, gently rubbing the pad of his finger around the rim. “Might,” he slowly slips one finger inside, feeling Jimin’s muscles tightening against him. “Take my goddamn time,” Yoongi places a soft kiss on the dip of Jimin’s back, sliding his finger in and out.
Jimin moans, breath hitching in his throat and thighs shuddering as one finger is joined by another, then another, as Yoongi slowly works him open, stretching him out until Jimin is shaking his head, what for, he’s not even sure.
“Please,” the words fall from Jimin’s lips, small beads of sweat collecting around his hairline. He gazes over his shoulder with heavily lidded eyes, pleading. And Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice.
There’s a bit more haste in Yoongi’s movements as he rolls on the condom and slicks himself up, because he’s getting impatient as well. It drives him crazy, those small noises that Jimin produces in the back of his throat when he’s being pleased. And it took all of Yoongi’s patience and self-restraint to stretch Jimin out just right, holding back from just tossing him onto the bed and fucking him right then and there.
But now, he gets to move in for his prize.
Yoongi climbs back onto the bed on his knees, positioning himself behind and aligning his cock with Jimin’s hole. He places his hand along the curve of Jimin’s ass, spreading his cheek with his thumb to allow more room as he slowly fills up the space his fingers had been previously. Yoongi allows Jimin time to adjust when he’s fully seated to the hilt, but Jimin seems to have other plans in mind.
“Move,” Jimin pants harshly, fingers digging into the fabric of Yoongi’s comforter bunched underneath his hands.
“My pleasure,” Yoongi smiles, pulling out just until the tip and thrusting back in with force. Jimin grunts, head hanging low and body burning with pleasure for more. And Yoongi complies.
It’s not gentle, the way Yoongi presses into him repeatedly, filling Jimin again and again as Jimin pushes back into Yoongi’s pelvis in an attempt to suck him in deeper.
Cool hands sooth over heated skin like a balm, so very gentle in contrast to the frantic, harsh movements, only getting jerkier and faster with every thrust.
Jimin’s breathy moans and soft mewls spur Yoongi on to move even faster, fingers digging into the soft flesh of Jimin’s waist, sure to leave a smattering of bruises in the morning.
Everything is so damn hot, a blur of sounds and motions that don’t fully register in Yoongi’s thoughts pounding with his adrenaline rush.
His entire world narrows down to Jimin, in this moment.
Everything is Jimin, and Jimin is everything.
The soft sound of his voice, the taste of his skin, the feel of his heat surrounding him to the point of suffocation.
He’s getting close, so damn close. And Yoongi knows Jimin is too. He can tell by the way Jimin’s breath stuttering in his chest, his thighs shaking and lips whispering wanton syllables and characters that don’t really make sense at this point.
Yoongi leans over to press his lips onto Jimin’s sweaty skin, biting down on Jimin’s shoulder with his hips never once stuttering in its ceaseless pace. The prickly fabric of Jimin’s lace choker brushes across Yoongi’s cheek, catching his attention.
Yoongi straightens out again, fingers twisting into the back of Jimin’s choker and asserting just the slightest pressure. Jimin’s eyes go wide, twisting over his shoulder to shoot Yoongi a panicked look.
“Hyung, I can’t breathe,” Jimin wheezes, falling onto one elbow and trying to reach back to scratch at Yoongi’s knuckles.
But Yoongi slams in particularly hard, and Jimin’s vision fades to white, neon violet lights sparking behind his eyes. Jimin can’t breathe, not only from the constraint pressing down on his neck, but also from the pressure slowly building in his core, his heart pounding rapidly in chest, blood rushing through his veins.
Jimin falls onto both elbows, forehead digging into the blankets and gasping for air. His head is spinning and his body is thrumming, the lack of air intensifying the pleasure coursing through his system. He can feel the sharp buzzing tingles beginning from the tips of his fingers and toes, traveling all through his limbs, until his entire body is submerged under a wave of electricity that has him moaning out loud into the mattress, shooting out ropes of white onto Yoongi’s comforter as his orgasm hits hard and out of nowhere, taking Jimin completely by surprise.
Yoongi is still fucking Jimin wide open, the younger barely registering anything else accept for the mind numbing oblivion as his entire body is used and abused, arms and legs quivering with exhaustion. Yoongi follows not long after, pushing in one last time as deep as he can go as Jimin’s muscles tighten hot and heavy around him, squeezing him out for everything he’s got.
Body hunched over Jimin’s back, Yoongi rests his forehead along Jimin’s spine, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath.
“Hyung,” Jimin croaks, voice muffled by the blankets still pressed into his face.
“Hm?” Yoongi hums lazily, basking in the blissful afterglow of his post-orgasm.
“I still can’t breathe,” Jimin coughs, and Yoongi laughs.
“Whoops, my bad,” Yoongi slowly releases his hold on Jimin’s choker, blood rushing back to his extremities and his fingers and toes vibrating with sharp pricks.
“I can’t feel my toes,” Jimin whimpers, wiggling them for a few seconds before giving up. “I’m so tired.”
“You can sleep here,” Yoongi replies, pulling out his softening dick so he can tie off the condom and throw it away. Jimin topples over onto his side, blinking at Yoongi with sleepy eyes.
“What about you?” Jimin frowns, squirming out of his lace underwear and flinging it over the bed.
“I still have my paper,” Yoongi grunts, plopping down onto the edge of the bed.
“Oh, that,” Jimin cringes, maneuvering closer towards Yoongi’s body with the least muscle movement possible. Jimin curls himself around behind Yoongi’s body, settling his head on the elder’s lap. “Sorry. That wasn’t actually factored into my plans when I was trying to figure things out.”
“I should ignore you more often,” Yoongi teases, ruffling Jimin’s fluff of trainwrecked hairstyle.
“You’re mean,” Jimin smiles, eyelids fluttering shut and breaths slowly evening out.
Yoongi sighs, gazing longingly at Jimin’s face.
Damn that paper.
Maybe for just ten minutes?
Re: Late Night Distractions
(Anonymous) 2015-01-15 01:13 pm (UTC)(link)Thank u for writing this