Jimin's Angel • PJM

Twenty ♡

You dreamt of Jimin.

He danced across a dark stage, no noise, not even the sound of his body moving. At first you thought he was coming toward you, limbs long and graceful, his body enticing. But then you realized his eyes weren't even open, his pale lids closed and creased slightly as if he were concentrating.

Your lips parted, you said his name, felt the syllables vibrate along your tongue, the air escaping but not accompanied by sound. He nearly collided with your body but at the last moment twisted impossibly skillfully and swirled around you. You hadn't even known you were on the stage too.

"Angel." His arms wrapped around your waist and you were off the ground, you could hear his inhalation of breath at the effort as sound returned to your ears.

You were spinning, the stage floor when you looked down moving too quickly making you dizzy. Jimin's grip was almost bruising as his forearms locked against your ribs, hands grasping below your breasts. You felt the line of his body behind you, his strong chest against your lower back. You felt the flex of his muscles as he eased you downward.

When your feet touched the floor he spun you around in his arms, fingers curled around your shoulders, until you faced him. Jimin was handsome, his features delicate and relaxed, eyes taking you in. His body didn't stop moving, you were falling, no, he was pushing you backward.

You cried out, afraid of hitting the floor, but his palm cupped your neck and he laid you against the stage gently, the dance still going. His body rolled against yours, like it had so many times before, and you sighed, the press of his thighs opening your legs sending frissons of desire into you.

When his fingers crept beneath your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach the flame was lit. You wanted to reach for him, draw your own fingers under his clothing but your arms didn't respond to the demand to move. Jimin didn't seem to notice your lack of participation and then your shirt was just gone, no longer on your form. His smile was soft, then his head dropped, full lips tasting as much of the skin across your breasts and he could.

You tried to say his name again, the muteness of your tongue driving you to madness. Your eyes started rolling back in distraction when his tongue found a nipple, grazing it across teeth until you felt like you could moan, if any sound would come out.

"My girl." He murmured the words against the side of your breast, teeth nipping softness.

You felt wild, you wanted to consume him, capture him and keep this gorgeous boy forever. Why would you just lay there a puppet with no strings?

Like your shirt your shorts were gone, his palm squeezing against your hipbone. You could feel the heat of his thigh just barely a centimeters from the apex of your own. He eased forward, the silky brush of his dance clothes creating friction against your clit.

"My love." Jimin's fingers became a blindfold across your eyes.

You could feel him grind himself against you, tease you with his firm muscular thigh. You could also feel his cock, velvety smooth replace it, and when he slid home into your body you keened soundlessly. As he started moving into your heat, slowly but increasingly deeply you felt your tears pooling beneath his fingers.

You awoke with a jolt as if you'd fallen from a ledge of great height. Your heart beat so fast you placed your palm on your chest and felt its staccato punching.

"Sorry Angel, my alarm is obnoxious." Jimin's deep morning voice broke over your head as he stretched across you to silence it.

"Jimin?" You buried your cheek against his shirt, warm like his skin beneath it.