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"If you think I'm pretty, lay your hands on me Know you can't stop thinking about it I know that you're shitty and you're bad for me But I can't stop thinking about it"
If you think I'm pretty - Artemas (This song is sooo jimin)
Spice -O- Meter: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
🥀
For a moment, I thought I had fallen anyway.
That is what kissing him felt like after all these years of dreaming, rejecting, and watching. It was that slick, sensuous stroke of danger. Wrapped in velvet and cloaked with wine, it stole my senses with its divinity.
I am not watching him. I am not feeling another. He is under my touch, and tasting my flesh.
Jimin had lunged forward, molding her lips to his. The first touch had been exhilarating, enough for Aera to part her lips and accept him with her uttered a gasp. That immediate taste of lavender and the scent of caramel flooded her senses, his smooth lips a shock of resilient firmness. Both of his hands slid from the wall, over her collarbones, and up to hold her face within his palms. She had played this out so many times, and still, her heart threatened to cease its gait.
There was a moment of pause as they first touched. Hesitance from shock, from the strange and pure potency of desire. She could feel it now, how much he wanted her. Aera was pressed against the sill entirely, and Jimin's entire body craned over and into her. The evidence of that pressed against her navel, it showed in the way his lips were careful at first. And how it would change absolutely nothing about the way they hated each other.
No, the kiss was filled with it. Nothing had ever felt quite as reckless and exhilarating. Gods he is so fucking good. The asshole had skill, honed from all the women that were not her. He hadn't been wrong about that, which made his critique of her first kiss all the more infuriating. She always convinced herself she hated watching the way he had stroked along others' skin like tuned strings. Watching his hands elegantly and yet powerfully touch and slide upon others. He had learned to play women like an instrument, his mouth a supplemental melody.
It was rapture.
His head nodded as he moved his mouth across her own, eliciting a cry from her. He barely did anything just yet, and she could see just how much he practiced over the years. Jimin started roughly but was daring enough to tease. He pulled back just enough to see her heart pounding within her chest, her cleavage thrust out towards him. His cheeks were flushed and shaded with his silver hair, his thumbs scraping against the line of her jaw.
