the vantage advantage

Spice it Up! (M)

Jimin & You

Genre: Fluffy Smut, One shot

Word count: 4,110 words

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The images projected by the TV were a blur and you blinked several times, realising that you had let yourself get lost in your thoughts. Shifting your head ever so slightly to the left, you sneaked a glance at your husband, whose eyes were trained on the TV, unaware of your lack of attention tonight. You chewed on your lower lip, the plans that you were determined to carry out making you nervous, but you were going to do it no matter what.

“Jimin?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The affectionate nickname made you smile and boosted your confidence a little. He loved you just as much as you loved him, if not more. This gave you comfort, knowing that even if he didn’t like what you wanted to try tonight, he would not feel hatred or disgusted towards you. He always made you feel safe and comfortable with voicing your thoughts.

And this was a thought that had been plaguing you for a while. It was a big one, to you at least.

Keep reading

How To Change A Fuqboi (Jimin)

Word Count: 2,764

Loosely inspired by the song “Fuqboi” by Hey Violet and “Ugly Heart” by G.R.L.

Rated M (language and like REALLY REALLY suggestive sh!t yo 😂)

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

How To Change A Fuqboi

Volume 1: Happenstance (Jungkook)
Volume 2: For-Getting His Attention (Jimin)
Volume 3: Bonding and Binding (Taehyung)
Volume 4: One and Done (Yoongi)
Volume 5: Unintentional Liar (Seokjin)
Volume 6: To Be Loved (Namjoon)
Volume 7: Checklist (Hoseok)

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

Step 1) Admit there is a problem*

Let’s just say you’ve found yourself a fuck boy.

He might be “cover boy” pretty, have a smile with enough wattage to keep an entire metropolis powered, or even literally stamped with a beauty mark, but it’s wise to remember that beautiful outsides won’t always mean beautiful insides- erm, personality, that is. Now, there will be problems in any type of relationship, but when “a” problem becomes “the” problem and “the problem” is the entire makeup of the other person, it’s probably time to make a decision.

Jimin’s face, contorted in pleasure, is a masterpiece you could spend years admiring, but you can easily settle with the fragile, fleeting glimpses through a veil of eyelashes and stray strands of hair. His throaty groans have become the soundtrack on replay in your mind, a pesky distraction that often resurfaces at the most inconvenient times, such as in the middle of lectures or while trying to get through picture-less text book pages. And those lips, the soft, kissable snares that never fail to trap you with words that melt your very core…

There’s only one problem.

Jimin’s head rolls back, hitting the wall with a soft “thud,” the noise drowned out by the desperate cry that leaves his throat. You sit back on your heels to admire your success, excited for what’s about to come, but also wanting to bask in the praise he’s sure to give you.

But then he glances at the clock and those wonderful lips form around those same nasty words, “Shit, I’m late for class.”

He rolls off of your bed, the shifting of the mattress almost making you lose your balance, and haphazardly jumps back into his jeans, pulling on his shirt, backwards, only to grunt in frustration as he corrects it. Hiking a strap of his backpack over his shoulder, Jimin pauses just long enough to press a kiss to the top of your head.

So you’re left there, hot and bothered, for the fourth time this week.

Fourth.

The sigh of disappointment that tears up your raw throat is heavy and underscored by the sudden sound of your ring tone. Reaching to your night stand, slipping under the covers to hide your partially exposed body, you skim over the newest notification, a text.

Chim~chim: Next time, love. I promise xx

*Definition: PROBLEM (noun)- any matter or situation regarded as unwelcome or harmful.

Step 2) Define** the problematic behavior

When in any type of choice-based relationship, friendship or romantic, it is important to identify toxic or “red flag” behaviors. In the latter, this often includes but is not limited to suspicious vagueness, avoiding deeper, serious topics, lack of reciprocation of affections, and chronic flirting with persons toward which your significant other is sexually oriented, especially when exclusivity is in question.

Me: Hey cutie ^-^

Chim~chim: What? Me? Nah ;) you’re the cute one here haha

Me: *blushes* so sweeeeet~ you doing anything after class today??

Your thumb presses the send button without hesitation, but that doesn’t mean you don’t still feel the little trill on your heart strings, the coil of anxious anticipation tightening in your stomach.

Chim~chim: Aw, I’m sorry, love :(((( I’m stuck in the library to finish an essay

Chim~chim: But oppa will take care of you soon bb~

Me: We’re the same age pabo -__-

Chim~chim: Mkay, remind me next time my face is buried between your legs ;D

You shove your phone in your pocket, cheeks burning as the professor walks into the room and begins logging onto the computer. Thankfully, you’ve tactfully chosen to sit in the back, meaning no one would be able to see the rude text, though if we’re being honest, I don’t think his choice of words bothered you TOO much.

After the professor dismisses the class, a craving for caffeine sends you to the little cafe across campus, the one that usually has no line but serves a decent product for such a low price. The thick smell of ground coffee beans and vanilla wafts pleasantly around you as you enter the small building, the shadow of the library shielding half of the space from the harsh sunlight flooding in through the wall of windows.

Jimin is somewhere in there, studying hard, or rather typing frantically.

Knowing him, his essay is probably due in about three hours, but he always manages to turn them in on time, paper still warm from the printer, and get a passing grade.

Wouldn’t it be a nice surprise if you bought him coffee too?

A smile easily slides onto your lips as you go through the motions, standing in line, ordering, and waiting, keeping the thought of Jimin’s gratitude and charming excitement at the forefront of your mind.

With the two cups in hand, you rush to the adjacent building, weaving around the desks, bookshelves, and students until reaching the computer lab. Your eyes scan across screens and faces, all unfamiliar.

A twist forms in your stomach, a knot of doubt, but you ignore it. Setting down the cups on a nearby shelf and pulling out your phone, you type the message quickly.

Me: Jimjams where are you??? I brought coffee :)

You stare at the screen with an intensity that would scare anyone who took the time to notice. He’s usually a really good texter, responding in seconds, maybe minutes if something is physically preventing him from reaching his phone.

But those telltale three dots are nowhere to be found and the tag stays on “delivered.”

The knot gets tighter, a queasy feeling seeping into your throat.

Maybe he came to the library for research first. It’s a logical conclusion, so you wander around for a few minutes, peeking down the rows of ceiling high shelves, walking up the stairs, and repeating the process, checking your phone an embarrassing amount of times to see if anything changes. Of course, nothing does.

The knot gets tighter.

Maybe he finished early and went back to his dorm? That’s another logical conclusion, so you abandon your fruitless searching and start the hike back outside. You’ve only been there twice, your endeavors carried out at a more successful rate when at your apartment, but you thankfully seem to retain the location.

Your footsteps are hurried, desperate, and you consciously force yourself to slow down, breathing deeply as you scale the stair, looking for the first room on the left. You pause before knocking on the slightly ajar door, hesitant, but then you hear something.

Tighter.

Through the almost unnoticeable crack, you are able to see his bed; the one with the red flannel blanket, stained with an old, stray spill of bleach; the one with a splotchy pink pillow, accidentally colored from a run through the wash with the blanket; the one where he went down on you for the first time; and the one that now has another occupant in it.

You can’t see much from your not-so-advantageous vantage point and the fact that both of them are completely under the blanket doesn’t help, but you aren’t stupid. Their positions and the SOUNDS…

Your relationship with Jimin was a little bit of an accident and is anything but exclusive, which had always been more than okay with you. However, it’s one thing to leave you hanging with a promise that he rarely fulfills, but quite another to choose someone else OVER you and LIE about it, which is EXACTLY what irks you the most.

You take a few unsteady steps back and consider throwing the coffee away, knowing that confrontation is out of the question, but instead decide to place the cup on the threshold, a metaphorical calling card, one that you silently hope one of them will trip over on the way out.

**Elaboration: your definition of the problematic behavior should be concrete and should be explicitly said or written. Do not leave room for ambiguity as it begets excuses and loopholes.

Step 3) Actively take small steps*** to change the situation

To alter any behavior, it is important to be committed. However, commitment takes effort, and effort requires constant attentiveness, lest you slip back into old habits. The easiest way to do this is by taking baby steps, lessening the risk of shell shock.

Chim~chim: Hey bb! Sorry I didn’t see your text!! Still up for coffee?? ;)))

Bile rises into your throat as the notification appears on your phone screen. Your automatic reaction is to open it and reply, but with a great amount of effort, you abstain, leaving Jimin on “read.”

Why should you humor him? Especially after he wrung you out and hung you up to dry. You tap the power button to get rid of the temptation, bowing over your desk to resume the last minute studying for a quiz tomorrow.

Less than two minutes later, the screen brightens again, almost violently drawing your attention away from the textbook.

Chim~chim: Is everything ok, bb?? O-o

Chim~chim: Love, I know you’re reading these… are you mad at me??

Chim~chim: ???

Each time you see the name, it becomes harder and harder to resist the seduction of a reply, the amount of self control needed doubling. You know that it’ll only take three more messages at most to break these defenses down, so you do the only thing you can to fend off his persuasive persistence.

You turn off your phone.

The silence you sit in becomes tense, but you manage to give yourself this dignity, if nothing else.

For four days you’re able to avoid him, a fair amount of time in my opinion, namely because he knows all of the places you tend to frequent and Jimin is not the type of person to let these kinds of things go easily. Of course you hope he seeks you out because he cares, but the latent thoughts that plague your mind all point at one thing. You’ve always known that he’s a fuck boy, but you’d also HOPED that you would eventually be something more to him than the occasional blow job, for which he reciprocates thirty percent of the time if you’re lucky.

Yet that thirty percent… You hate Jimin for it, or at least you want to, because let’s be real here, if you REALLY hated him, you wouldn’t keep the guy around. Either way, the break is well appreciated by your raw emotions (and throat), but your luck does eventually run out.

You haphazardly gather your belongings, knowing you only have a five minute window to escape before Jimin’s class ends across the hall. If you’re quick, you might be able to grab a cup of coffee before retreating to the safe haven that is your apartment.

Even though he’s come knocking once or twice, thankfully Jimin isn’t stupid enough to break down the door. It is one of the few boundaries he has no problem respecting and you’re almost looking FORWARD to crawling into your bed, ignoring the world.

But then the girl who sits next to you decides that the lecture isn’t important until the last possible second, delaying your departure by praying on your people-pleasing nature, asking for pictures of your notes.

By the time you manage to satisfy her request, pleasantries not left unsaid, you turn to flee from the room, from Jimin, but you’re too late.

His dark gaze is locked on you, his body casually resting against the doorframe, subtly blocking it. You freeze, looking away in shame while Jimin lets the girl pass, leaving the two of you alone. He wastes no time.

“Love, why are you avoiding me?” his question is more pained than you thought it would be, making you flinch. Hadn’t he seen the coffee cup? Maybe someone had disposed of it before they finished their… activities. Maybe he simply didn’t connect the dots.

Whatever the case, you can tell he’s genuinely clueless.

Your lack of response prompts him to follow up with, “At least tell me what I did wrong.”

Still not meeting his gaze, you stop in front of him, tone curt.

“Move.”

His hand rises, resting on your arm and you don’t have the self control needed to flinch away. The moment hangs in the air, tense, thick, like trying to breathe under water, though less physically and more emotionally painful. Jimin makes the first move, hesitantly stepping forward to close whatever space remains between you. His forehead lightly touches yours, snapback pulling his hair away, allowing skin to skin contact that leaves your cheeks hot.

This forward move surprises you enough to force your attention upward, to his eyes. This is a dangerous position, a mistake, and you know it. You KNOW it, but you don’t do anything ABOUT it. Your throat tightens as you stare into those familiar brown eyes, the ones that you can fall endlessly into, the ones that ensnared you a year ago the moment you first saw them, the ones that somehow make you feel more comfortable, more loved and IN love than you ever thought possible.

“Come back to me…please,” he whispers, warm, minty breath fanning against your lips.

Hesitation from common sense restrains your body, your desires, like ropes.

And yet the familiarity, the allure of his charms, they pull you in like CHAINS and the single word slips out with uncanny ease, “Okay.”

However, if there’s anything you’ve learned from the proficiency with which you began to ignore his texts over the past few days, it’s that you DO have control, even if only a little. So you add with confidence, “But on one condition.”

***Correction: “Small steps” can be steps of any size as long as there is a plan and it is being executed.

Step 4) Give up and realize that he’ll**** never change

The last wisps of euphoria course through your veins, limbs feeling just as heavy as your breathing. The chill takes a moment to seep into your awareness, but it’s followed quickly by the pleasant, warm, soothing feeling of a washcloth.

Jimin ghosts around you, cleaning up the mess, comfortingly rubbing your arms until your fingers finally release the fistfuls of sheets, and presses a light kiss to your lips, to your cheek to your ear.

This is what having a boyfriend SHOULD feel like… but sadly you’re not SO delusional that a RELATIONSHIP would be the one, irrefutable condition to resuming your status as “fuck buddy.”

Jimin’s words are husky and low, only able to be understood due to his proximity, “My turn.”

Your eyelids slide open, disillusioned by his frankness, and you, with practiced ease, get in position. It takes less than five minutes for you to make him a whimpering mess. Jimin’s face, contorted in pleasure, is revealed to you by fleeting glimpses through a veil of eyelashes and stray strands of hair. His throaty groans, a familiar soundtrack in your mind, resonate in his chest.  And those lips, the soft, kissable snares, are parted to reveal teeth that can’t seem to decide whether they want to be together or separated, though there seems to be some correlation between them and how tight his grip is on your hair.

Over the past two weeks, nothing has changed- except that Jimin now has to get you off first and his “classes” suddenly seem to start later than they did before. The worst part of it all is you know this is futile. At heart, he always was, is, and will be a fuck boy and the only reason he gives you the time of day (though you’ll admit you get a LITTLE more than that) is because he KNOWS you’re easy, accessible, and understand that there’s no strings attached.

Wait.

You UNDERSTAND it, but does that really mean you have to ACCEPT it?

For a moment, doubt flickers in your thoughts, but it fades quickly to spark a fire of anger. You cease all movement as you think and Jimin makes a guttural noise in protest, grip getting tighter.

“Why’d you stop?” he whines, attempting to start thrusting himself, but you’ve had just about enough of this.

Pulling away completely, you force his fingers to unlace from your hair.

“Love, what are you doing?” Jimin’s eyes practically bulge open.

A small smile slides onto your lips as you shrug, rolling off of the red flannel blanket, stained with an old, stray spill of bleach, “Sorry, I just realized I’m late for class.”

****Addendum: the only person you CAN change is YOU.

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

A/N: *cough cough, hint, wink* there might be more. Maybe. For the other members. If people want to read it.