BTS Smut Oneshot's/ BTS SMUT Bakery

Missed Call | PJM x Reader| M

I'm not good at titles or summaries. But here we go again, on to the next story.

~He's not answering your calls and you wonder why?
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"You have reached the voicemail box of -" You hung up the phone cutting off the annoying automated voice, for what seemed like the tenth time today. Each attempt a failure. It probably should have occurred to you that Jimin was ignoring your efforts to get into contact with him. You knew he was receiving your calls and text messages because when you dialed his number, the phone rung about three times before being sent voicemail, and your text messages were left on read.

Though the reason why constantly escaped your grasp and the need to be worried or enraged shuffled around in your mind. As far as you knew there was no reason for him to be upset with you. There haven't been any serious disagreements as of late; everything was just peachy between Jimin and you.

"You have reac-" You cut off the voice once again. This was irking your nerves. All you wanted to do was to go over to Jimin's house to cuddle and watch a movie with him like any other loving girlfriend. But no, It couldn't be that simple, nothing was ever simple when it came to him.

"Fucking Park Jimin." You grumbled shoving your phone into your pocket, directing your destination to his house. You hoped he had a good reason for ignoring you.

~

You arrived at Jimin's house. His car was in the driveway meaning he was home, and there seemed to be no other vehicles around; strange or familiar, so you guessed he was alone. But the same question was on constant replay. Why wasn't he taking your calls? You didn't even try to knock, thinking that if he wasn't going to answer your calls. He wasn't going to answer the door.

By the front door, there was a small fern tree that held his spare house key. You carelessly dug around in the potting soil of the plant with your car keys, not wanting to get the dirt under your clean fingernails, or your hands. Once you were able to gain access to the house, you slipped in quietly, not wanting to alert Jimin. The central part of the house was dark and with no signs of Jimin, but a single light appearing from down the hallway, the source of it being Jimin's bedroom caught your attention. You tipped-toed closer to the room, muffled noises which sounded similar to moaning, the familiar smell of his cologne and something musky becoming more robust the nearer you drew. Curiosity had now piqued your interest, on what was on behind the door.

"Jimin?" You whispered out opening the door to his bedroom; your eyes were blown wide at the view before you. There laid Jimin splayed on his bed, his hand firmly wrapped around his cock, pumping the hard member to the tune of the harsh puffs of breath that escaped past his chapped lips. The light breathless whines of your name reaching your ears, the delicate noises mimicking a sweet caress on your ears. It was enthralling yet, almost taboo to stand there and watch your boyfriend jack-off. However, you couldn't peel your eyes away from his beautiful member, maybe because it was your first time seeing a dick in person; well...seeing Jimin's dick in person.

Most of the time you and Jimin played it safe, engaging in some heavy petting, intense make-out session, and the occasional dry humping, but never any further. Not that you didn't want to go to the next step with Jimin. Of course, you did. But Jimin was always the one to retreat; his cheeks and ear tinted rouge with embarrassment, and his full lips even fuller from the shared lip-lock. The same phrase of how you weren't "ready" yet, or how he wanted to keep your "innocence." Some type of bullshit that didn't make sense to you, how was he going to tell if you were ready or not. You knew your body.

A low groan from Jimin brought you back to the present time, focusing again on him. Jimin seemed to be close if the way his hips began to thrust faster into the tight fist of his hand, or the copious amount of pre-cum that dribbled from the head of his cock was any indication. But from the way his brows furrowed in frustration or the increasing repeating mantra of your name ghosting of his lips, you could tell he was having a hard time pushing himself over the edge of completion.