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It started out as organically as these things could start. Jimin and Hoseok had a pretty good roommates-with-benefits thing going; Yoongi and Hoseok hooked up occasionally, and once in a while even Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon together.
From there Jimin and all three rappers started blowing off steam together.
Jimin and Taehyung made out a few too many times for it to stay casual. And then Jungkook and Seokjin sure as hell weren't about to be left out. (And there was the maybe-thing between Seokjin and Taehyung that no one was clear about but was far enough in the past now that they could move past it onto something new.)
That something new being all seven of them fucking. Hoseok and Seokjin instituted an all-surface disinfecting schedule within a week.
Jimin being the only omega made him a little nervous at first. He was self conscious on one hand: all these hot strong alphas who liked alphas, how could an average omega compare?
When it became clear that none of his bandmates had any disinterest in fucking him, he started worrying about that, too. Was he just a body meant to be fucked, not because he liked it but because he was an omega?
That worry faded over time. Of the seven of them, some preferred alphas, some omegas, and some had no preference. There were only so many times Jimin could make Namjoon beg him to fuck him or watch Hoseok get knotted before he stopped worrying about that one.
So he started getting more comfortable sharing his dirtiest fantasies. Not six alphas fucking the omega, but six of his friends fucking Jimin. There was a difference there. He wasn't sure if everyone understood the distinction, but Yoongi did and Hoseok did and Taehyung did, and he trusted everyone with boundaries and with his body.
Sometimes he just wanted them to fuck him.
He didn't wear a lot of clothes in the dorm anymore. He stuck mostly to shirts so big they were almost dresses, and sometimes he wore boxers but sometimes he didn't.
He liked—they liked the easy access of slipping a hand up his thigh and finding his cunt bare to them.
Seokjin liked it especially. He usually got up early and he'd grab Jimin in the hall when Jimin finally left his room in the morning. Crowd him against the wall and touch him, comment on it if Jimin had woken up wet. Most of the time he wouldn't even finger him, just get him worked up and wet if he wasn't already and then leave him for the next person to find.
Not wearing clothes turned into a rule, when they started setting rules for him. Unless it was a day when Jimin wanted to call it off, he couldn't wear anything other than a shirt and underwear, or something one of the others gave him to wear.
He was allowed to touch his clit but not his holes, unless told to. He could come when he wanted, unless someone told him otherwise, and whenever one of his bandmates wanted to fuck him it was his job to be ready and to please them.
Hoseok called him a cumdump and laughed. One time he and Yoongi stripped Jimin naked and knotted him one after the other, and when Jimin was slumped back against Hoseok's chest with his cunt plugged full of two loads of come, Yoongi paused re-doing his eyeliner and used it to write "knotslut" on Jimin's flat stomach. They took pictures of it with the polaroid they keep around for that purpose, and from then on, if someone in the dorm referred to the cockslut or cumdump, everyone knew it was Jimin.
Today they had the evening and the next morning off, no schedule for a full fifteen hours. It was the longest break they'd gotten in a while and Jimin had a feeling in his stomach that he knew exactly what his bandmates planned to do with it.
He, Seokjin, Jungkook, and Taehyung drove back to the dorm in the same car. The minute the four of them walked in the door Seokjin said, "Get his clothes off," then disappeared into the bathroom.
Jungkook wasted no time stripping Jimin of his jacket, his shirt, and his undershirt. Taehyung unbuttoned his jeans and dragged them and his boxers down to his boots.
It was humiliating to stand there and be undressed like he couldn't do it himself. "I can take—"
That was as far as he got. Taehyung stood and slapped him. "Don't talk back when Seokjin gets in here."
As if Jimin needed the reminder— But maybe he did, because Seokjin walked in and he still had to bite his lip when Taehyung kneeled again and started unzipping his boots.
Seokjin had changed into sweats and washed his face, though makeup still clung to his hairline.
"You two can go clean up if you like," he said. Jungkook and Taehyung went off to do that and Seokjin looked at the pile of Jimin's clothes. "Go put those away."
Jimin paused. He still had all his makeup on and his face was oily with sweat. "Can I wash my face?"
"No. I like you like this," Seokjin said simply, and that was that. Jimin grabbed his clothes and scurried away.
He put his shoes in the closet and dumped the clothes on his bed. Hoseok was going to get mad at him for that, but he didn't want to keep anyone waiting. When he went back out into the hallway he bumped into Jungkook who stopped him with an arm around his waist.
Jimin was used to walking around the dorm naked or almost naked but he shivered when Jungkook reached down and cupped his cunt, and there was not even a thin scrap of fabric in the way.
"Jungkook," he started, "Let's go out—"
Jungkook wasn't listening to him. He kissed Jimin's neck, stroked two fingers down his seam and then pushed them both into him. Jimin rocked up on his toes.
So this called for a different method. Luckily, Jungkook was easy to lead around by his dick.
Jimin rolled his hips down into Jungkook's grip on him and despite the too-dry burn of the fingers in him he threw his head back and gave a breathy moan. "Kook, take me into the living room so you can fuck me."
Jungkook hoisted him into his arms and took him to the living room.
The guys who drove in the second car—Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi—were just coming through the door. They headed to their rooms to wash up and change, but first Namjoon stopped where Jungkook had Jimin in a princess carry and ran his hand over the scent glands on Jimin's collarbones.
Jungkook's breath hitched as Jimin's sweet scent filled the air. Namjoon's hand wandered lower and squeezed Jimin's tits, one then the other, and then twisted at a nipple until Jimin gasped and squirmed.
When Jimin had tears in his eyes, Namjoon said, "Be right back," and he was gone.
"Put him down, Romeo," Seokjin said with a snort.
Jungkook set Jimin on his feet but stayed at his back and continued where he left off kissing the back of Jimin's neck. His teeth scraped lightly against his scruff and Jimin gave a high, instinctual whine.
"Hyung, let me fuck him first," Jungkook said.
The seven of them weren't exactly a pack and so they didn't have a leader, but if they had been a pack, Seokjin would have been their leader. A lot of Jimin's fantasies, back when they were just fantasies, had been about Seokjin exercising that authority over him, telling him that he was the alpha of the pack and Jimin was the omega and had to do what he said.
Now Seokjin said, "Jimin, come sit here."
Jungkook whined sadly but let Jimin go. Jimin went.
Seokjin took him by the waist and guided him to straddle Seokjin's thigh, facing the room. His cotton sweatpants became humid immediately where his leg pressed between Jimin's thighs.
The rest of the group filtered back into the room. All of them looked washed and comfortable. Namjoon, Jimin noticed, came back with something silvery in his hands. He showed them to the room to murmurs and shouts of approval. Jimin recognized the weighted nipple clamps.
“Hyung,” Jimin started. Seokjin slapped his inner thigh, achingly close to his cunt. Jimin shut up.
“Can I warm him up?” Jungkook asked. Seokjin sighed but pushed Jimin off of his thigh and Jimin stumbled back over to Jungkook. He crawled into Jungkook’s lap, knowing to throw his shoulders back. Jungkook scrunched down so his face was level with Jimin’s chest.
Behind them, Jimin could hear the sounds of the rest of them finding seats. The TV switched on, playing quietly in the background.
Jungkook licked almost hesitantly at Jimin’s nipples. As eager as he was to get into Jimin’s cunt earlier, he took his time using just his lips and his hot breath on his tits.
Jimin held himself tense, his spine a rigid line of tension, waiting for the first sting of teeth. It came sooner than he was expecting—maybe some of the shuffling behind him were sounds of the others expressing their impatience.
Jungkook’s teeth scraped over his nipple and Jimin flinched. Then Jungkook sucked it into his mouth, let it go with a pop, and moved to give the other the same treatment. Jimin kept his back straight and his chest out, presenting his tits for Jungkook to do what he wanted with. That was all he needed to do.
It got harder when Jungkook got rougher, biting hard and pulling his head back until the flesh snapped out of his teeth. He put his hands on Jimin’s waist to steady him when he rocked too far towards Jungkook’s mouth.
Jimin curled his fingers into fists and stayed as still as he could, groaning softly at the back of his throat only when he was unable to help it. He could sit and take it—he had to. That’s what he was for.
A string of spit rolled down the curve of Jimin's breast. Jungkook noticed and abandoned Jimin's nipple to lift Jimin's tit in his hand and noisily suck it up. Jimin's cheeks burned. This is what he was for.
"I think that's enough," Namjoon said. He always got madly jealous when someone else touched Jimin's tits.
Jungkook pushed Jimin off his lap and Jimin turned around to face the room. Namjoon stood in front of him.
Jimin’s nipples were puffy and red and wet with Jungkook’s spit. Namjoon twisted one between his fingers and pulled up until Jimin was balancing on his toes to try to take the pressure off.
“Stop torturing him,” Yoongi said. He and Hoseok were curled together on the couch. The only person who seemed to actually be watching TV was Taehyung. Jimin frowned.
“Fine,” Namjoon said, and let go.
Jimin fell back down to the balls of his feet. He took a breath of relief, but before he could let it out Namjoon fixed the clamp to the nipple he was torturing. He smiled when Jimin gasped, and then tightened the clamp until Jimin whimpered. By the time he was done with both clamps and satisfied with the way the chain between them draped over Jimin’s chest, Jimin’s eyes were filled with tears again.
Namjoon pinched the chain between his fingers and used it as a leash to guide Jimin to the couch where Namjoon took a seat between Seokjin and Yoongi. He dragged his fingers through Jimin’s slit from back to front and showed the room how wet his hand was.
Jungkook whined audibly.
Seokjin laughed. “He complains so much when you guys touch his tits you’d think he didn’t like it.”
“Baby wants to knot him,” Hoseok teased, looking at Jungkook.
“I won’t knot,” Jungkook said. They laughed at him, except Namjoon who was rubbing two fingers ever so lightly over Jimin’s clit. “I promise I won’t.”
Namjoon got bored of Jimin’s cunt and he took hold of the chain at his chest and yanked it. Jimin curled his shoulders down automatically but Namjoon shook his head at him and he straightened, wincing.
“That's okay with you, Namjoon?” Seokjin asked.
“Sure,” Namjoon said, “One second.”
He pulled two pieces of metal from his pocket and attached each weight to the perpendicular dangling chain on Jimin’s stomach and let it drop all at once. Even though he was ready for it, Jimin yelped at the pain.
“Alright, go,” Namjoon said.
The weights banged against Jimin’s stomach as he walked over to Jungkook.
Jungkook already had his cock out and Jimin climbed onto the seat for the second time, positioning himself on his knees facing the room, knowing that his hyungs would want to see the pretty clamps and be able to tug on them.
As soon as his neck was within reach Jungkook had his nose buried in it, licking over his skin and filling the room with Jimin’s scent.
“Little princess has gone feral,” Yoongi laughed, and Jungkook growled. That made Taehyung finally look up from the TV.
Jimin whimpered. Jungkook’s sharp alpha scent was heavy on his tongue and he felt like he was in the clutches of something feral with five other alphas staring him down. Jungkook reached down and steadied his cock underneath him.
Jimin lowered himself onto it without waiting to be told. He reached down to spread himself and try to make it easier to take. Jungkook was big and Jimin hadn’t been prepped. He’d had to use his mouth at breakfast, and last night Hoseok fucked him, but Hoseok’s cock wasn’t the challenge that Jungkook’s was.
And Jungkook didn’t let Jimin go slow or ease it in. Once Jimin had the tip inside him Jungkook grabbed his waist and dragged him fully into his lap with a high-pitched puppy whine. Jimin groaned and tried to rise up, but Jungkook didn’t let him escape.
He closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see the alphas staring at his split-open cunt—or so he didn’t have to see Taehyung still focused on the TV instead.
“Let him ride you,” Namjoon said.
No doubt he wanted to see Jimin’s tits bounce instead of watching Jungkook hold Jimin down and half-roll his hips up into him. Jungkook relaxed his grip so Jimin could start moving.
He went as slow as he dared. He could feel Jungkook's cock getting more slick and he went faster before someone had to tell him to. Soon the weights attached to his nipples banged against him with every move, tugging harshly at the clamps.
He panted through his mouth, letting out short exhalations of pain every few moments. To make matters worse Jungkook reached around and squeezed his tits, massaging them and jostling the clamps. The pain ran down Jimin’s spine to join with the pleasure in the pit of his stomach. He tightened up and Jungkook moaned.
He thrust his cock up into Jimin and flicked both clamps at once. Jimin cried out and then he felt a slight bulge on the bottom third of the cock he was impaled on.
"Jungkook," he gasped as soon as he gathered the breath. "You gotta stop, you're gonna—knot—"
"I told you!" cried Hoseok. And that was Seokjin's mean laugh, Yoongi's voice saying, "Already? Hobi, you left his pussy that tight?" and Jungkook just fucked him deeper and tugged one of the clamps so hard it almost came off. Jimin screamed out a moan.
His hips rolled to meet Jungkook's even as he pleaded, "You can't, you said you wouldn't, take it out—"
Jungkook whined into Jimin's ear as his knot expanded inside him. Jimin's mouth dropped open, not enough air to moan or struggle as he felt Jungkook’s come fill him up.
"Did you do it? The slut's so used to a knot I can't tell anymore."
Seokjin's voice seemed to get through to Jungkook finally. He hid his face in Jimin's neck and whimpered. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to, I just—"
Hoseok let out a sigh and Jungkook flinched.
"It's okay," Hoseok said. "I get it."
Seokjin said, "No one would last five minutes with a pathetic little knotslut in your lap begging you to knot him."
"He was begging Kookie not to knot him," Taehyung pointed out.
"I didn't hear that," Seokjin said. He turned to Yoongi. "Did you hear that?"
Yoongi shook his head and turned to Jimin. Jimin shook his head frantically. He hadn't begged Jungkook not to knot him, he hadn't. Had he? He couldn't, he wasn't allowed to have opinions on things like when he got knotted or by who, let alone voice them. He could be punished for weeks on end if he forgot that.
"That's right," said Seokjin.
"He makes it too easy," Hoseok agreed. "It's not Jungkook's fault."
“What are we gonna do?” Seokjin asked. An aftershock shuddered through Jimin and he curled forward, the clamps pulling on his nipples and his inner muscles clenching on Jungkook’s knot. Their corner of the room sounded like it was full of whiny kittens.
“Can’t do much until his knot goes down,” Yoongi said.
“Overeager little pup,” Seokjin said. Jungkook sucked in a breath and bit down hard on the nape of Jimin’s neck. Not enough to break skin but Jimin went liquid in his lap.
Namjoon stood up and walked over with a look in his eyes that told Jimin he wasn’t listening to the hyungs talking or, if he was, he didn’t agree that they had to wait for Jungkook’s knot to deflate. Jimin swallowed and tried to work up some spit to wet his lips.
When Namjoon stuck his dick in Jimin’s mouth his knot was already half-inflated, thankfully. He could only pull Jimin’s head down three fourths of the way down, and that already was enough to have Jimin gagging, too much saliva pooling under his tongue and spilling over his chin.
Namjoon fucked his mouth for less than a minute. Jimin had to bend awkwardly to get it in his mouth, and it angled the head of his cock towards Jimin’s soft palate instead of his throat. His teeth kept knocking into Namjoon’s knot by accident, drawing hisses from him every time.
“Uh, shit,” Namjoon grunted and pulled out to stroke himself instead, spreading Jimin’s saliva down the length of his dick.
Jimin was sitting at a better height for Namjoon to press his cock to the dip of his chest, in between his tits. He grabbed Jimin’s shoulders and used them as leverage to thrust up against his skin. Jimin’s rim tugged against Jungkook’s knot and the two of them whined again.
“Move, Namjoon, come on,” Seokjin complained. “All I can see is your ass.”
“You fucking move,” Namjoon said without interrupting his rhythm.
Seokjin walked over to Jimin’s other side. Yoongi and Hoseok stayed on the couch, apparently comfortable with the view of Namjoon’s ass.
“Be useful,” Seokjin told Jungkook, “push his tits together for Namjoon to fuck.”
Jimin took a deep breath to keep himself from talking back. It hurts, he would have said. Of course, it was meant to hurt when Jungkook squeezed Jimin’s breasts together around Namjoon’s cock. Jimin whimpered at the pain.
Namjoon fucked into the tight channel but the spit and sweat wasn’t enough to make it smooth. “Spit on it.”
Jimin leaned his chin down and gathered spit in his mouth, then let it spill from his lips. It shone on his chest and dripped down over the purple head of Namjoon’s cock peeking out from the cleavage that Jungkook was creating.
“Fuck,” Namjoon gasped and fucked faster.
Jimin rocked in between him and Jungkook, who kept gasping as Jimin’s insides worked his oversensitive knot. Namjoon’s knot dragged against Jimin’s sternum and he felt it expand to its full size and then come hit Jimin’s skin. It pooled in his collarbone and dripped down over one of his tits.
“Oh fuck,” Namjoon said. “Oh shit.”
He rubbed the come into Jimin’s skin just above one of his nipples. Jungkook’s hands fell back down to Jimin’s waist and before Jimin could sigh in relief Namjoon’s fingers slipped down and pulled at the clamp.
He arched his back high and squeezed his eyes shut. “It hurts.”
“That's what you get for being a knotslut and making poor Kookie come in you,” Seokjin said.
Namjoon pulled and twisted and Jimin screamed as the clamp slipped off. Jungkook’s hand slammed over his mouth, pressing down. Jimin panted hotly into it.
That left the clamp on his other nipple to hold all of the weights. Tears sprang to his eyes. His plea was muffled against Jungkook’s hand. He pulled it away and Jimin said, “Please, hyung, take it off.”
Namjoon just moved away, back to the couch.
Jimin’s eyes turned to Seokjin standing above him. Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “What will you do for me? You can’t even offer this,” he said and slapped Jimin’s cunt. From the way Jungkook’s hands tightened on his waist as they both cried out, his hand caught Jungkook’s balls too.
Jungkook said, “Hyung I’m sorry, it was me—”
“Yeah,” Seokjin said, “But it’s hard not to when this one’s being such a slut.”
Yoongi had left the room without Jimin noticing, and he walked back in holding something in his hand.
He came close and Jimin saw that it was an ice cube. A drop of cold water fell off his palm onto Jimin’s thigh. He squirmed but he was pinned in place. He forgot sometimes that Yoongi, while he wasn’t particularly mean, had his kinks.
Yoongi rubbed the ice cube on Jimin’s nipple, sliding it over the red, abused flesh. For the first few seconds it was numbing and felt good, but Yoongi kept it there just long enough for it to start to sting before he stooped and sucked the nipple into his mouth.
His tongue felt like a brand after the ice. Jimin’s other nipple was beginning to go numb from the clamp.
“Pl’s, hyung,” he mumbled, “doesn’t feel good.”
Yoongi’s eyes went to the clamp. “This?” he touched it.
Jimin nodded.
Yoongi took it off quickly and as blood rushed back to the area he rubbed the ice cube there.
Jimin gasped, unsure what to make of the conflicting sensations. It felt like needles were dragging against him. Yoongi pulled the ice cube away to make room for his mouth yet again and Jimin twisted as he dragged the ice down his chest and stomach before finally lifting it from his skin.
“Hyung,” Jimin gasped. “I’m gonna come, I think I’m gonna come.”
Yoongi hummed, continuing to kiss and suck at Jimin’s nipples, distracting him so it came as a surprise when the ice returned with unerring accuracy to press at his clit. Jimin cried out and writhed in place, kept there only by Jungkook’s hands and his slowly shrinking knot.
“Does it hurt?” Yoongi asked. Jimin nodded, his chest hiccuping in a sob, his orgasm retreating. Yoongi rubbed the ice cube in a circle against him. Cool water trickled down his folds and Jungkook gasped. Yoongi hummed and said, “I’m going to help you, Kook-ah.”
The ice cube was barely anything anymore, almost completely melted away as Yoongi’s cool fingers played around Jimin’s cunt, feeling where it stretched tight around Jungkook’s knot. It felt good on Jimin’s skin but Jungkook flinched back and whined.
“Hyung, ow.”
“Baby alpha,” Yoongi said. “Think you can take half of what Jimin takes?”
“N-no,” Jungkook cried. Jimin felt his knot deflating, letting come slide out of him and onto Yoongi’s fingers. Yoongi’s other hand urged Jimin up further on his knees so he could rub and squeeze more of Jungkook’s cock. From the noises Jungkook was making, he wasn’t being gentle.
“That’s okay if you can’t, hyungs are here to help you, huh? There you go.” Yoongi pulled Jimin completely off Jungkook’s cock and then pushed him back into Jungkook’s lap, his legs spread. Jungkook’s cock smeared against the small of Jimin’s back. “Joon, go get me another.”
“Why me?” Namjoon complained, already getting up to go into the kitchen.
Jimin caught Yoongi’s eye and tried to plead using his expression.
“You can take it or Jungkook will,” Yoongi said. Jungkook wrapped his arms around Jimin’s waist and he rutted his cock against Jimin’s skin. “Thanks, Namjoon.”
Namjoon had gone above and beyond, and returned with a towel and a handful of ice.
“Alpha,” Jimin moaned. Namjoon and Yoongi together liked to make Jimin squirm, so he did.
“Jimin…” Jungkook said apologetically, as if there was any chance Jimin might say no to this.
Jimin balanced himself against Jungkook’s chest so he could hook his arms around his knees. The position held his legs up and left his cunt out in the open for Yoongi to do what he wanted. He jumped when Yoongi cupped his cunt, but his hand was empty and warm.
“You’re so hot.” Yoongi rubbed him up and down, spreading Jungkook’s come through Jimin’s pubic hair.
“Mhm,” Jimin agreed. “Cool me off, please, in me.” The ice was going to hurt whatever Yoongi did with it. Against his clit all it did was hurt, but on his chest or in his cunt or his ass it was a kind of pain that felt good.
“Open your mouth,” Yoongi said. Jimin stuck out his tongue gratefully for Yoongi to place an ice cube in his mouth. It sticks to his tongue at first, then starts to melt down, the cold water a relief sliding down his throat. Yoongi let him suck on it for a few seconds and held out his palm. Jimin spat it out, and Yoongi gave him a second, a third, a fourth, until his tongue was numb.
At the fifth Jimin closed his lips and turned his face away, begging silently again.
Yoongi pressed it insistently at his lips. “Keep this one in your mouth.”
Jimin took it.
Yoongi stroked cool fingers up his folds, stopping just before his clit, then followed the same path with a piece of ice barely grazing Jimin’s skin. Jimin instinctively tried to shrink back. The ice followed him and Yoongi pressed harder this time.
He went back to a light stroke and Jimin’s hips rocked into it, chasing the feeling. Jungkook tightened his grip on his waist to keep him from falling from his lap.
“Knotslut,” said Hoseok fondly.
“Ice slut doesn’t sound as good,” Seokjin said, contemplative.
Hoseok said, “There’s probably a sexy word for it. Namjoon, search it up.”
“No,” said Namjoon. Then, like he couldn’t help himself, “Anything can be sexy in the right moment or to the right person.”
“You mean like a fetish?” Hoseok asked.
Yoongi had stopped touching Jimin at all and Jimin whined pathetically.
“Do you have an ice fetish, hyung?” Hoseok asked.
Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. “It’s called temperature play. Can I keep going, or are you guys busy?”
“Don’t let us stop you,” Seokjin said.
The ice cube on Jimin’s tongue had half-melted down the back of his throat. He held it between his back teeth. It propped his lips open slightly.
Yoongi rubbed at Jimin’s hole with his thumb. Jimin felt himself clenching on empty air almost as if he was inviting it when Yoongi brought a piece of ice to his rim. It slid inside easily and a sound close to a squeal escaped Jimin’s parted lips.
The feeling of ice inside his cunt always started with a second of shock and then burning cold, and finally he would get numb. Yoongi was good at anticipating when the numbness set in and letting the ice slide out to replace with his tongue or fingers or cock.
Yoongi added a second ice cube and covered his cunt with his palm to keep them inside. Jimin swore he could feel the ice sliding deep, deep into him and no matter how many times he felt the sensation it would never stop being strange.
His chest heaved in a whimper and the ice cubes tried to force themselves out of him with the movement.
“He probably can’t hold all those in,” Taehyung said. He’d started paying attention to Jimin and Jimin hadn’t even noticed. He squirmed and tried to look enticing. He didn’t really know something specifically that Taehyung liked. Taehyung seemed to like everything.
“Hm,” said Yoongi, taking the challenge. He propped the small of Jimin’s back on a bent knee while Jungkook still supported his upper body, so that his cunt was practically facing the ceiling. The ice cube broke between Jimin’s teeth.
“That’s cheating,” Seokjin pointed out.
Yoongi shrugged, unbothered. He put the last two ice cubes in one after the other, ignored Jimin’s shout, and said, “Keep them in.”
Jimin tried. He really did. But the ice cubes became smaller and more slippery and harder to hold onto the longer they spent inside him, and they burned worse the harder he clenched down. His thighs started to shake and before long one of the larger ones slipped out.
“Told you,” Taehyung said.
Yoongi didn’t affect anger. He wasn’t like Seokjin in that way. He got hold of the piece of ice and pushed it past Jimin’s lips. Jimin moaned and sucked the taste of his own and Jungkook’s come off the surface.
Yoongi lowered Jimin down and then helped him stand up from Jungkook’s lap. His legs were shaky, cold water dripping in rivulets down his thighs. He slumped against Yoongi for support, and shivered gratefully when Yoongi held him.
“So what do I win?” Taehyung said.
“What do you want?” Yoongi grunted.
Taehyung didn’t have to think hard. He responded in a second. “Jimin sleeps with me tonight!”
Yoongi’s head turned.
“Sure,” said Seokjin.
Taehyung made an excited noise. Jimin couldn’t think hard about that because Yoongi grasped him around the waist and hoisted him over his shoulder.
Jimin squeaked, then gasped when Yoongi just turned and threw him down on the couch. His head spun. Yoongi was rolling out his shoulder and Hoseok was laughing at him.
“You should know your strength, hyung,” Hoseok says. Yoongi climbed onto the seat next to Jungkook, displacing him into Yoongi’s lap, and hugged him.
Jimin lay alone on the couch and crunched the melting ice between his teeth. He brought his knees together for the pressure against his cunt, and pushed his palms into his nipples. Different aches on and in his body warred for attention.
Taehyung bent over and kissed his forehead. Jimin shivered under his gaze. Taehyung’s attention was intense, sometimes. When Taehyung wanted it to be.
Seokjin broke their eye contact by putting a knee on the couch and spreading Jimin’s legs.
“You want it on your stomach or your back?” he asked.
Jimin flipped onto his stomach and spread his legs again. He whimpered at the press of the leather against his aching tits. Seokjin’s cock rubbed against his ass and his fingers slipped into Jimin’s cunt. They were overwhelmingly hot inside him.
“Are you going to be tight for me?” Seokjin asked.
“Yes,” Jimin promised breathlessly. “I’ll be so good.”
A slick thumb rubbed against his asshole. Seokjin hummed, considering.
Jimin jumped on the couch and sobbed when his nipples scraped against leather. “Please, my cunt— My cunt’s so hot and I’ll clench so tight for you, alpha.”
Calling Seokjin alpha always made him more agreeable. Same with Namjoon. Jimin canted his hips back and fluttered the muscles of his cunt, trying to be as appealing as possible.
Seokjin grunted and shoved into Jimin’s cunt in one thrust. Jungkook’s knot had stretched Jimin out. Jimin squeezed down as much as he could, trying to make it worth it for Seokjin. He brought his legs a little bit closer to each other, but Seokjin noticed and threw them wide again. He ground his hips down into Jimin’s.
“Just stay still,” he said. “Are you such a knotslut? Wait for it like a good boy.”
Jimin shut his eyes and pressed his cheek against leather. Seokjin started to fuck him, each brutal thrust driving him into the couch, his cock hitting a spot deep inside him that hurt.
“Fuck, fuck,” Jimin hissed.
Seokjin slowed down. “What?” he asked dangerously.
Jimin kept quiet. Seokjin’s hand touched his ass and massaged his hole from the outside. Jimin bit his lip, and kept quiet.
“Good boy.” Seokjin pushed a finger into his ass.
Jimin wailed as Seokjin rode his cunt and spread his ass open around three fingers. They were wet from Jimin’s own slick, which dripped down his thighs and got the couch all messy. He was so full it hurt, full enough that he snuck a hand down to touch his stomach and feel for a bump. There wasn’t one but he kept hugging himself around the middle, trying to angle his torso to keep his nipples above the friction of the couch. His tits hung down just far enough to torture him.
Seokjin pulled his cock out of him and Jimin gasped for breath. Then he pulled his fingers out of Jimin’s ass. Jimin laid still and waited for what Seokjin had planned. He blinked his eyes open and saw Namjoon and Hoseok across from him, their pants undone and their hands in each other’s laps.
“Suck him off,” Seokjin said. Jimin started to get up onto his elbows but he was aiming it at Hoseok, who bent at the waist and lowered his face into Namjoon’s lap. Then Seokjin’s hands were on Jimin’s waist, pulling him up onto his knees and then back into Seokjin’s lap. “Sit up.”
Jimin went with Seokjin’s hands, his head spinning. There were tears on his cheeks that he hadn't noticed before. Seokjin guided him up on his knees and pressed the head of his cock against his ass.
“Hyung,” Jimin begged.
Seokjin pulled him down, spearing his ass down on his cock. His knot pressed against Jimin’s rim like a threat, but Seokjin just flexed his hips, rocking gently up into him. He rested his chin on Jimin’s shoulder and they both watched Hoseok bob his head up and down Namjoon’s cock.
Next to them, close enough to reach out a hand and touch, Taehyung had his hand down the front of his pants, the angle of his wrist showing that he was fingering himself, watching Jimin.
Seokjin said, “Touch yourself. I want you to come with me.”
Jimin’s clit was almost too slippery to grasp between his fingers. He whined and kept his hand still, bucking his hips to grind against his palm.
“Cockslut.”
Jimin slammed his eyes shut and his cunt spasmed. He slipped two fingers into himself but he was so loose that it only served to tease him. Hoseok gagged loudly in the room and Namjoon whispered something to him that Jimin couldn’t make out.
Seokjin said, “Are you going to come? Not yet.”
Jimin whined.
Seokjin looked down the length of his body and said, suddenly sharp, “Did I tell you to finger yourself?” His fingers closed tightly around Jimin’s wrist. Jimin froze and let Seokjin pull his hand away from his hole. He pressed Jimin’s fingers down onto his clit and started fucking up into him again. “Don’t stop. Do you need a reminder about what you are?”
“Omega,” Jimin moaned, rubbing his clit lightly and quickly, even though it hurt. “I’m a cockslut omega, knotslut, bitch—”
Seokjin felt his clenching and said, “Don’t come yet.”
Jimin whined. He kept touching himself because Seokjin hadn’t told him to stop, and willed himself back from the edge, his head thrown back against Seokjin’s shoulder.
Seokjin’s fingers dug into Jimin’s sides as he came, emptying his knot into his ass. Jimin sobbed in gratitude that he hadn’t forced his knot in too. “Please,” he gasps. “Please, alpha, can I come?”
“Go ahead, come.” Seokjin knocked Jimin’s hand out of the way and squeezed his clit hard between two fingers.
Jimin came, and it hurt.
When he was done clenching down, Seokjin pushed him off his lap and he and Taehyung arranged him so that his head was in Taehyung’s lap and his legs curled up to his chest. Both his holes leaked onto the couch. The sound of the TV could easily lull him to sleep like this.
“Good omega,” Seokjin said, sounding like he was smiling. Like he was making a joke. He patted Jimin’s ass. “Good knotslut bitch.”
Taehyung wiped his fingers that had been inside himself on Jimin’s hair and then pettedit over and over. “Jiminie,” he sang under his breath. Jimin blinked his eyes open sleepily. “Sleepover tonight!”
“That’s good, Taehyung-ah,” Jimin slurred.
“We’ll have fun,” Taehyung said.
“Take pictures for us,” Hoseok said in a raspy voice.
Taehyung clicked his tongue. “I didn’t mean sexy fun. Real fun. Like, other fun.”
“Yeah, sure, okay,” Seokjin laughed.
“I really mean— Like, yeah, we could fuck but that’s not—”
“Will you take pictures?” Seokjin asked.
“Yes, of course I’ll take pictures.”
They kept going, lightly arguing back and forth, and Jimin let himself drift off. Whatever Taehyung had planned for them, he was sure he’d enjoy it.