Neighbors | PJM [18+]

Chapter Five: Proposals

This chapter is more so focused on Jimin's perspective during the first part and then changes to Cat's later. Enjoy. Sorry if it's smutty lmao. 

"I HAVE A PROPOSAL FOR YOU." 

Cat breathed a little heavy like she'd been the one partaking in the aggressive, wall-thumping sex rather than Jimin. Her breath, warm, escaping bare lips, fanned his skin, and Jimin crossed his arms, intrigued by her statement and also self-conscious at the way his skin pricked at the feel of her breath against it. 

She was enraged. Jimin could see that in her red, sleep-deprived eyes, the way she'd been banging against his door regardless of disturbing the other floor's occupants, and the way her voice was so thick of the emotion—rage—and it made Jimin's lips tingle in amusement. He leaned against one side of his door's threshold, placing his temple against the pillar of wood, and looked at Cat with heavy-lidded eyes. 

He watched her swallow and found his eyes lingering on the milky skin of her neck moments after. Her neck was long and elegant, exposed greatly by the pencil-thin straps of her tank top, and Jimin had wanted to wrap his fingers around it times before, on that very first day, but this time, the itch he felt in his fingers tips to feel her pulse race under them was out of something much different. 

He shrugged to show his disinterest in the conversation. 

"I'm listening," he said. 

He wasn't really, but watching her be worked up was entertaining, like halftime at the Super Bowl. 

"If you're going to continue with—" her eyes darted to behind Jimin, "that, I recommend you ғυcĸ your female companion on the floor rather than your bed, because I need to sleep and you want to orgasm."

Jimin hadn't heard Cat curse before. The word fuck was one Jimin personally kept in heavy rotation in his own vocabulary, but he'd never really liked girls saying it. It made them sound dirty and uncivilized. 

Those were two words he'd never use to describe Cat, even if she ate at Chick-Fil-A. 

And the fact she literally said he wanted to orgasm? 

Was this the same girl he'd heard earlier crying out from pleasure as he was trying to fall asleep? The same one he'd heard watching porn for what seemed hours on end only to proceed to fuck herself so loudly with such inconsideration to him, he had to sit through it steel-hard, with the only relief available being his hand? This girl, the one that made his blood grow thick and dial-up Mia out of desperation, Mia being the girl waiting in his bed, was using words like orgasm?

He wanted to make her say cum, to let her know he saw her for who she truly was. She seemed well put together and posh, but when no one was around she became something different, and Jimin wanted to watch her transform and have it seared into the inside of his eyelids. 

He wondered if the word cum every left her pretty mouth before, if anyone else had made her say it. 

"If we both want to be happy," she continued. "It's out of your best interest, and mine as well, to ғυcĸ—" 

He twitched. 

"—on the floor." 

"And if I don't?" Jimin asked. 

ғυcĸιng on the floor hurt his back and if he retired onto it, he certainly wouldn't enjoy watching Mia ride him. Her chest was as flat as his and required none of the effort. There would be nothing to grab but her hips, and those were knives, always poking through those short skirts she wore around him and his friends. That was why he'd been ғυcĸιng her from behind, 'cause he'd give her one praise: her hair was long, and she liked it ғυcĸιng rough.