kill me ➣ yoonmin

06: screw it

warning: Jimin takes Yoongi's advice, just imagine those arms 🌚😭
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Jimin rolled around in bed on a Saturday morning, cursing silently as he saw the sun peak up from the horizon.

He hadn't got any sleep at all, the events from the previous day weighed on him.

He couldn't stop thinking about Yoongi or the kiss. He let himself lose sleep over the sin of kissing him.

Jimin was confused and in the whole eight hours of thinking he came up with no answer to his confusion.

'It was the kiss, not Yoongi that makes me feel this way,' he tells himself. But why hasn't the effect warn off then? It was only a kiss...

Jimin blushed as he thought about it.

Yoongi's rough lips moving against his so passionately as his even rougher hands entangled in his brown hair...

Jimin peeled the silk comforter from his body and sat at the edge of his bed.

With thoughts of Yoongi and his own breath filling the air making it almost suffocating to bare, he lowered his boxers.

Jimin knew very well it wasn't going to go away on its own so he said "screw it", as he took his throbbing third arm into his hand.

He groaned in pain and pleasure at the slightest touch because he ignored it for far too long.

He gripped the sheets as he stroked it up and down, throwing his head back. He closed his eyes imagining his hand to be Yoongi's as he stroked faster, rougher.

He imagined how Yoongi would do it. He whimpered and moan quietly, he thought, but it was much louder.

"Y-oong-i.." He moaned in shortened breaths. Beads of sweat formed at the base of his forehead, his brows knit together, his lips more than slightly parted as he called the elders name repeatedly.

He fell back on his bed, arching his back as the pure white seed cover his abdomen until he was completely covered in shameful bliss.

He released a shaky breath and wet his lips as his arm fell limp at his side.

No

He didn't want to admit it.

The knock on the door startles him out of his daze. He pulls up his boxers and quickly covers himself with the comforter again.

"C-Come in," he says, voice still shaking, and the door is opened, revealing one of the staffs.

"Good morning, young master. I'm here to wake you," she says smiling.

Jimin nods. "Thank you, Miss..." Jimin lingered. It was kind of awkward he didn't know her name, but then again it's not like she was at his level of status. She was a lowly maid.

She only smiled. Jimin would have thought she were cute too, if she wasn't the help, but she was, and Jimin knows better.

"You may go now," Jimin ordered. He sat in a bed with his possible offspring swimming around, and it was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"Oh, yes, but I'm suppose to make make the bed first," she added.

Jimin grimaced. His eyes glued onto hers in horror and he quickly thought of anything to kick her out.

"I'm naked, so please get out....please..?" He urges.

She gives him a weird look before bowing and closing the door leaving him alone.

He hit his forehead and roughly pulled his hair embarrassed, before he got up to shower.

He sighed heavily. Underneath the cold water. He wondered what Yoongi would look like as water ran down his skin and cascaded his body in the most private areas where eyes don't touch.

No no no

Jimin hit his head against the wall. 'Why can't I stop thinking about that peasant?' He vented.

I mean surely Yoongi was not a peasant since he went to the same prestigious school as him, but of that school, he's thought to be categorized as the least fortunate. He might be a scholarship student.

It's only been a few weeks into the school year and Jimin's already got two fan clubs and five confessions to which he turned down coldly, yet politely.

His parents told him not to play around at this time, because he has to focus on his studies...

It's not working out as planned, unfortunately, because Min Yoongi happened.

He needs to somehow get his mind off of the pale basketball player, and soon.

He thought of the maid, that not too long ago almost discovered his shameful act. Maybe she could distract him? Remind him of what he is and what he is not.

Because the straight line that his parents helped him draw, was slowly becoming a circle.