Suga is right up against me, moving his lips to my cheek. . . but I divert his touch. "Yoongi. . ." I say quietly. "Come on. . ." my eyes are sad in the moon lit city. His the same. "Why not? No one will come up here. They have no idea." he whispers to me calmly.
I walk to the edge of the roof, sitting on it's lip with a sigh, forearms draped over knees. "Suga, look. . . I am still with Jungkook. If I weren't i'd have you in a heartbeat." I sigh. Yoongi sighs upsettedly, pulling off his black hood annoyed. "Then leave him already."
"I can't do that. You know I can't Yoongs. . ." i feel my eyes sting. Wanting to cry at myself. (Why do you always cry Jimin?) I wipe tears before they fall. Feeling hopeless. "Jiminie. . ." Yoongi starts, kneeling beside me, turning my face towards his by the chin.
I blow out air. "What?" my orange hair practically glows in the night. "I love you my Jimin." he says dead serious. making it even harder on my heart. We lean in at the same time, me gasping just before we touch. "I love you too. . ."
i didn't PLAN on kissing him, but I do it anyways. Instinctually if you will. We lock lips and it's like an explosion in my chest and face. Fire and aching and need. All thrown together on this roof-topped secret. His knees squeezing into my hips.
He sits down and I rise to my knees before him, having the upper ground myself. It's safer this way. Not like he could kill me anymore, but actually take me somewhere. He presses himself against me hard, making my body jolt with sensitivity and surprise.
He laughs into my lips, shoving his fingers into the top of my jeans at the back. Their tips cold against my melting skin. I shove him backwards from the edge now. He gasps while pulling me down to the ground with him, holding me by my belt loops.
He harshly grinds his knee into me, making me groan, holding him there with my thighs. Our kisses battle against each-other. Heated one moment, slow the very next. He hovers over the top of me, pulling my hips upwards as he sticks his tongue into my mouth.
The messed up thing though. . . is that I am already used to it. Already begging for it internally. I greet his with mine, the muscle taught and slippery with saliva. Almost sweet. I pull away feeling drunk, heat spreading from where his knee pushes.
"Why do we always end up like this?" I breathe frantic, trying to push him off me. He grabs my wrists and nibbles on my knuckles, dragging his lips over my inner arm. I can't help but whine at this, desperately drawing myself up to him. Not having enough of it.
I role us over, not breaking the heated passion, but trying to get away physically. Nothing gets done, for now he's on bottom, and my hands are up his shirt, me crouched on top. As if it's a last ditch effort, he drives his knee upwards, making me collapse forwards in euphoria.
I role us over, not breaking the heated passion, but trying to get away physically. Nothing gets done, for now he's on bottom, and my hands are up his shirt, me crouched on top. As if it's a last ditch effort, he drives his knee upwards, making me collapse forwards in euphoria. (You're his now)
Thanks for reading!
"I didn't realize. . . it wasn't gum." - Jimin