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“Feeling any better?”

Forcing down the rest of the honey and lemon concoction that Jimin had insisted so vehemently that you drink, you grimace and nod your head as you gladly pass back the empty mug into his waiting hands.  

“Mm,” you affirm, “About eighty percent, I think.  That calpol really helped my throat.”  Jimin tilts his head slightly, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re oddly specific about the rate of your recovery, you know,” he observes and blushing mildly in reply, you shrug.

“Is it a surprise?  What else am I supposed to lie here thinking about when you’ve got me confined to bed twenty four hours a day?”  As if to prove a point, you busy yourself with rearranging his royal blue bed covers across your lap and lean back into the pillows with world-weary sigh.  

“You make being waited on hand and foot sound like something awful,” Jimin tuts, rising from your side and placing your mug down on the bedside table before running one hand through his freshly dyed, jet black hair.  Admiring his slender frame, you hum in reply, crooking a finger to beckon him towards you, and when he leans in close enough you take a hold of the front of his t-shirt, drawing him in further.

“Truly terrible,” you murmur against his soft lips and then brush them with your own, reassured by the knowledge that Jimin’s been exposed to your germs for so long now that if he was going to get sick it would’ve already happened days ago.

He kisses you back for a far shorter time than you’d like, straightening up and away from your grasp despite your pout of protest, clearly still of the opinion that you’re some fragile little thing that he mustn’t let get too excited lest it somehow further damage your health.  

“Get some rest, noona,” he tells you with one final touch to your cheek, dragging his thumb along the angle of your jaw and smiling as you shuffle down further into the pillows.  

“Aren’t you gonna stay with me?”  

You know you shouldn’t ask, really.  Jimin’s been amazing since you’d gotten sick two weeks ago, tending to your every need with nary a complaint and letting you take comfort in the embrace of his arms both day and night.  You can’t really blame him for having had enough for being in bed for hours at a time, especially since he’s not even the one who’s poorly.  

“Not this time.  You always say you’re gonna sleep and then end up just lying here talking my head off when I stay.”  

Damn it, why does he have to be right?  

“Ok,” you acquiesce with a sigh, unable to hold back a smile when Jimin tenderly arranges the covers over you and then bends down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.  “Check on me soon, though?”  

“Of course,” he smiles indulgently in return.  He collects your mug off of the bedside table and as you close your eyes, exhaling softly, your hear him pad his way over to the bedroom door and open it.  “Sleep tight.”

***

It feels like an age that you’ve been trying - and failing - to sleep.   It seems like no matter which way you turn that side of your nose decides that it wants to be blocked, and now that the effects of the hideous drink that Jimin made you has started to wear off your throat is beginning to feel scratchy again, much to your dismay.  

You roll onto your back and open your eyes, staring at the ceiling as you listen to every little sound around the house; the clanging of the pipes as the heating turns on, the tinny sound of the television downstairs.  You’re certain that you won’t be able to get any rest like this - not when you know Jimin is so close and yet so far - so after mustering all your energy, you take a breath and then swing your legs out of bed for something other than the purpose of going to the toilet or showering in what feels like days.   

They’re a bit wobbly to begin with, your body still weaker than you’d like, but you make it out onto the upstairs landing and down the stairs without injury or incident.  You know Jimin won’t be pleased you’re up but at least sat snuggled up with him on the sofa you might be able to get some shut-eye.

Better that than lying in bed wide-awake for hours on end, right?  

You’re just coming to the living room door whilst psyching yourself up to defend against Jimin’s inevitable ‘I told you not to-’ tirade when a sudden noise brings your footsteps to a complete and utter stop.  You pause, ears pricked and listening hard, and you almost convince yourself you must’ve been hearing things before it comes again.  

That’s not the TV you could hear from upstairs: it’s Jimin.  Jimin whimpering softly and his breath hitching in his throat; Jimin moaning with his plushy lips pressed together tight and one hand stuffed down the front of his pants.  He’s got his eyes tightly closed, his head lolling to the side, and as your name passes his lips like a desperate plea your thighs automatically press, gripping onto the bottom of the t-shirt you’re wearing; comfortable white and blue stripes that belong to Jimin.  

You step through the door you hadn’t even realised you’d drawn nearer to, making no effort to conceal your approach.  

“I don’t remember giving you permission to do that.”  Your voice may be husky but it’s still as firm and clear as ever, and as soon as he hears it Jimin startles so badly that he almost jumps off of the couch, eyes opening wide and hand retracting quickly from his pants.   

“N-noona,” he begins, making a futile attempt to pull his sweater further down to cover the way his fly is gaping open as you slowly walk towards where he’s sat, “I t-thought you were sleeping.”

“Clearly.”  Jimin swallows as your eyes narrow, licks his lips nervously when you cock your head to the side and look him up and down.  “You’ve not been taking advantage of me being ill, have you?”

“N-no!” Jimin scrambles to sit further upright, widening his eyes to appear more innocent, and you love the way his skin is dusted pink along his cheekbones, bottom lip jutted out.  “This is the first time, I swear!”

You know you shouldn’t be too mad at him.  Considering how needy and demanding Jimin usually is as a sub, he’s exercised a remarkable amount of self-control over the past couple of weeks putting your needs before his own.  Since you’ve been on the mend, you’ve been wondering how he must be coping without the pleasure you inflict on him on an almost daily basis and now… well, now you know.  

“Are you sure?” You lift an eyebrow at him, fighting back a smile when he reaches out to you and grabs onto the leg of your pyjama bottoms with one hand as if to display his conviction, tugging lightly.

“I promise,” he whines, doe-eyes peering up at you, “I’ve just been missing you so much, noona, and you’re too sick, I didn’t want to have to ask you for help.”  You smile down at him, running one hand lovingly through the soft strands of his hair.  “I’m sorry,” he adds dolefully.

“It’s ok baby,” you soothe, sinking down onto the sofa next to him and leaning in to encase his bottom lip between your own in a lingering kiss when he twists his torso to face you.  “You’ve been taking such a good care of me… I’m sorry I haven’t been haven’t been able to do the same for you.”

“It’s ok,” Jimin whispers quietly back, shuddering with excitement when you place your hand onto one of his meaty thighs and squeeze tightly, groping the muscle.  

Glancing down when Jimin nestles his head into the crook of your neck and sighs, nuzzling your throat, you’re pleased to see how hard he’s remained despite having been caught.

“Show me what you were doing, baby.”  You rub your hand up and down his denim clad thigh encouragingly, smiling when he peeks up at you and bites his bottom lip, unsure. “Let me see.”  

Obediently, Jimin slips his small right hand back into the front of his pants, and you can tell the exact moment he starts to touch himself by the way his body tenses rock hard against you only to melt again a second later, his exhale shaking as it passes through his lips.  

“Take it out,” you instruct further, licking your lips hungrily as his hand starts to move, and it’s only now that you realise just how deprived you’ve been lately as well; just how wet you are between your legs.  

Ever eager to oblige, Jimin is quick to release his cock from the confines of his pants for you to see, and even from its appearance you can tell how desperate he must be.  Thickly veined, turgid and weeping from its swollen red tip, Jimin whimpers again as he tightens his fist around its base and another pearl of pre-cum oozes out.  

“Oh baby,” you coo, taking his chin in your hand and using it to upturn his face, “You’ve got such a pretty, perfect little cock.”  Jimin preens at your praise, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of pink, and when you steal another kiss he’s all too keen to let you slip your tongue inside and get a proper taste of him, moaning brokenly when you suck on his bottom lip in return.   

“F-feels good,” he gasps, and even without looking you can tell just by the movement of the couch that he’s starting to stroke himself even faster.  “So good.”  

“Hm, I’m sure it does,” you hum, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth as his lips hang open with pleasure. “Been so patient for noona, haven’t you baby?  Been such a good boy.”  

Jimin’s head tilts back into the sofa cushions and his eyebrows furrow with pleasure as you lean back to take a proper look at him in all his glory, and god, what a sight he is to see.  Siken hair in disarray, narrow hips rising up off the sofa to push up into his small hand as it glides rapidly up and down from base to tip and back again.  You can’t resist the urge to press your lips to the thick column of his neck and begin kissing and nipping and biting at his flesh, spurred on by the wanton, desperate sounds he’s making.  

“I- mnff- I’m close,” he stammers out, the wet sounds of him fucking into his fist like music to your ears. “Ah!” Jimin lets out a strangled noise as you suck a bruise into the juncture of his shoulder and his neck, and as you sit up straighter you see him already looking straight back at you with his tongue rolling restlessly inside his open mouth, prodding at the inside of his cheek.  

You eye the deep red mark you’ve left behind with satisfaction, smiling as you abruptly and firmly command,

“Stop.”  

Jimin may be naturally inclined towards submission and servility but he’s still a greedy and needful boy at heart, and though he may be able to slow the pace of his strokes he struggles to stop completely, whimpering as he opens up his eyes to look pleadingly into yours.  

“Jimin,” you warn, a sharp edge to your tone as you repeat, “Stop.”  

“B-but,” he protests weakly, tightening and relaxing the grip that he keeps around the head of his cock, playing with the tip.   

“Baby, you trust me, don’t you?” you ask, going for a softer approach, “Trust me to make you feel good?”  Slowly, Jimin nods and relinquishes the hold he has on his cock completely, running a hand through his hair with a shaking breath.  It bobs up and down against his stomach, twitching with protest and leaking out to leave a sticky mark on his t-shirt.  “Good boy.”  Your praise seems to make it all worthwhile for Jimin and by the time you kiss him he’s already smiling again, weaving his fingers into your hair.  

His reaction to your palm brushing over his length is instantaneous - gasping into your mouth - but you don’t let it linger.  You reach further into his pants instead to cup his balls in your hand, excruciatingly gentle as you roll and squeeze them in your palm

“Go on,” you encourage as he pants heavily against your mouth and as soon as you give the go ahead he begins touching himself again, every motion of his fist more desperate and urgent than the last.  

Jimin’s quick to resume moaning again, his eyes closing under your watchful ones.  You continue to fondle him gently in just the way you know he likes, and when his cries start to gain pitch and he’s wriggling his hips in his seat, you slip your fingers even further down to brush against his perineum - frowning when they suddenly make contact with the rim of something hard.  

“Baby…” Jimin’s so lost in pleasure that he barely seems to realise that your hand has fallen still until you’re tapping sharply at the blunt end of the butt plug that’s sat firmly in place between his shapely buttocks.  “What’s this?”  

You know exactly what it is, of course, and so does Jimin as soon as he feels your tapping shoot through him, his body tense and his eyes open wide.  

“You really have been needy, haven’t you?” Coyly, he nods with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.  “Take these off.”  You give a sharp tug at his jeans, and though he may be reluctant to stop Jimin does as you ask, lifting his hips off the sofa and quickly shucking down both his jeans and his boxers and toeing off his socks.  

If you weren’t so distracted by the sight of the plug protruding from him you’d probably relish in wasting more time just admiring the sight of his open thighs spread thickly across the sofa cushions.  

“Feet up,” you instruct further and shamelessly, Jimin picks his feet up off the floor and plants his heels up on the edge of the sofa in a well practised position, letting his knees flop open wide as he reclaims his grasp on his cock and his head falls back with the pleasure he feels.  

Like this, you’re able to see absolutely everything - his balls tensing as the runs his thumb across his slit, the butt plug shifting as he tenses his buttocks and they rise off of the sofa - and you realise quickly that there’s a little button on the plug that you hadn’t noticed at first glance; a vibration function that you’re suddenly dying to use.  

“Is this new, baby?” you ask sweetly, dragging a fingertip along the centre of his balls and then down his perineum.  

“Mhm,” he whimpers, lifting his head up to look at you for as long as he can manage, “Wa-wanted to surprise you, noona…”  

“Well you certainly did that,” you hum, pleased, and hover your finger over the button on the side that’ll turn it on.  “Let’s see how this feels, hm?” Without any further warning, you switch the plug on and smile with delight at the strangled moan that bursts forth from Jimin’s lungs and the way his stretched out hole clenches tight around the plug, his buttocks instantly beginning to tremble.

“Ah!” he cries out when you grip the base of the plug and give it a gentle twist, rotating it from side to side to elicit more and more of those sounds you so adore.  “I - ah - n-noona!”  

“Feels good?” you ask teasingly, knowing all too well that it does when you give it a sharp tug to pull it free an inch and then thrust it back inside.  

“F-Fuck!”  Jimin’s hips are bucking now, his head tossing from side to side and his eyes screwed tight as you fuck him with the plug, uncaring that its vibrations are making the tips of your fingers feel numb.  

You sigh wistfully, tilting your head to the side as you feign a casual expression.  Inside, you’re feeling practically as manic as Jimin - your arousal flowing out onto the crotch of your pyjama pants thanks to your lack of underwear - but you don’t want him to know that yet.  It’ll spoil the illusion.  

“Been too long since I last fucked you, baby,” you say mournfully, withdrawing the plug almost all of the way and then angling it upward as you push it back inside, aiming for his prostate.  “You miss noona filling you up?”

“Y-yes!  God!”  Jimin shouts as you do it again, his back arching as he desperately thrusts up into his hand and then pushes back down against the plug, driving it deeper.  

“Maybe once I’m feeling better we can invite Jungkookie over again, hm?  Would you like that?”  From the massive load of pre-cum that leaks out on Jimin’s next upstroke you can only presume he approves of the idea, whimpering desperately.  “Noona fucking your tight little ass while Jungkook’s stuffs his cock in his sweet little hyung’s mouth?  You know he thinks you’re so pretty, baby.  Know he loves watching you swallow his cum.”  

“Noona! I’m- I can’t!” he exclaims, his pace faltering, so overwhelmed with pleasure and the images that you’re implanting in his mind that he’s barely coherent enough to even carry on touching himself.  

“It’s ok baby, I’ve got you,” you assure him, replacing his hand with your own and loving the way he throbs in your palm as you drive him towards the edge.  “Let’s turn this up.”  Your voice is so breathy by this point that you don’t even think he hears you as you pause the thrusts of the plug to find the button again, shaking fingers slipping.  “Let’s see what this can do.”

The sound that Jimin makes is barely human when you turn the vibration up to its highest setting, so out of his mind that he begins to writhe underneath your touch, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes.  

“I can’t! I can’t!” he shouts, “Please, n-noona! I-!”

He looks so beautiful when he’s like this; completely at your mercy, utterly torn apart.  

“You can.  Come on baby, come for me, come for noona.”  You don’t stop the relentless motion of either of your hands even when he starts begging you to, his thighs shaking uncontrollably and pulling at his hair.  You know he doesn’t mean it.  You know that this is what he lives for, what he loves above all else - being pushed to his limits just to please you.  “You’re such a good boy Jimin, so beautiful like this.  So good.”  

He cries out again, nonsensical, and where his t-shirt has ridden up you can see his abdominal muscles start to clench and spasm uncontrollably, his balls drawing up tight as his orgasm draws near.  

“That’s it, come on, give it to me,” you plead, wanting it just as desperately as he does now, and as Jimin starts to lose control you lean over him quickly and wrap your lips around he head of his cock just in time to catch the first pulse as it spills from him, hitting the back of your throat.  

He cries out; whining and whimpering, shaking and stuttering as he cums thick and hot onto your tongue.  His hands threaded in your hair, his hips thrusts weakly up into your mouth as you continue to suckle gently at him, releasing the plug and turning it off as his orgasm fades so as not to overstimulate him and risk making him cry all the more.  

It’s been a long time for you both, after all.  You don’t want to push him too hard.  

“Oh my god…” Jimin is breathless as you lap up the remnants of his cum and then sit up, smiling like a cheshire cat as you lick him from your lips.  He reaches out and cups your cheek in his hand, drawing him towards you to grant you kiss that’s both loving and grateful.  “Thank you, noona.”  

“You’re welcome,” you answer softly, resting your forehead against his sweaty one and you’re about to kiss him again when you suddenly have to pull away to sneeze into your hand, so wet down below that you feel everything squelch as your pelvic muscles clench. “Sorry.”  You smile meekly, a little embarrassed.  “That wasn’t very attractive, was it?”  

“You’re always attractive,” he counters, nothing but sincerity in his eyes however much you may narrow yours at him, believing it all to be lies. “We better get you back to bed, noona, you’re not supposed to be up.”  Quick to recover, Jimin doesn’t even bother to remove the plug before he stands and pulls his boxers and jeans back on, buckling up his belt, and you can already feel the aggrieved look that’s on your face as he turns back to you with playful smile on his face.  

“Really?  After all that, I get nothing?”  Jimin laughs sweetly, taking your hands and pulling you up off the sofa and into his arms, capturing your lips in a kiss so deep and needful that takes it takes your breath away.  

“I promised to take care of you,” he says when he pulls away, a lustful gleam twinkling in his eyes, “I’m not about to stop now.”