I can't remember if I did this in lust or not but if there's a asterisk in front of a chapter title it means it's gonna get steamy ;))
this book's gonna have like 8479303 asterisks lmAO-
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"Jimin!"

The weather that day was cold, to say the least. Icy winds sliced across Jimin's bare skin harshly, and God did he wish that he had worn something other than just a baggy sweater and jeans. He was only walking back to his dorm though, so he expected that it would be fine.

He was wrong.

He huffed out a breath before turning around and adjusting the round glasses that rested atop the bridge of his nose. He held his text books close to his chest, raising an eyebrow as he looked for who called him.

"Jungah." He smiled, brushing a few pieces of hair out of his eyes as he walked towards the girl that he had his English lesson with. She grinned and gave him a quick hug, Jimin appreciating the warmth that was provided.

"Off to another class?" She asked, eyes darting down to the books in his arms.

"No, just back to my dorm." He sighed, rubbing his hand up and down his arm to generate warmth. "You?"

"I'm about to go grab coffee with Taewon." She smiled. "Want to come with?"

He pondered it for a moment, biting his bottom lip softly. Jungah's boyfriend Taewon was pretty nice, but he couldn't help but think that he would just be third wheeling the entire time - which wasn't exactly something that he was fond of.

"I'm sorry but I'm so tired I'm basically dying right now." He laughed. "I should catch some rest now so that I don't all asleep in my evening class."

Jungah smiled softly, understanding.

"Yeah, go catch some sleep." She spoke, patting Jimin's shoulder gently. "Some other time, yeah?"

He grinned in response, nodding and beginning to walk away.

"Of course." He answered. "Tomorrow, if you're free?"

"I'll text you." She smiled, sending a wave in his direction before walking in the direction of their on campus coffee shop.

Jimin smiled softly to himself, shaking a few pieces of hair out of his eyes before beginning to walk back to his room.

His happy mood was quickly dampened once he was walking towards his building and he felt a now familiar sensation begin to pound against his skull. He had been getting headaches and migraines frequently since his 'accident'.

He had no idea what happened, only able to remember waking up in the hospital with a migraine so bad it felt like his head was going to explode. According to his doctor, someone who had lived close by found him passed out cold on the sidewalk, blood dripping past his lips.

The incident wiped him clear of all of his prior memories, doctors saying that it would be a miracle if they ever returned. There were only two things he could be sure of; his name was Park Jimin and he was 24. That was it. He couldn't remember family, nor friends. Childhood memories, or even just memories of growing up.

It was if he was just a soul haphazardly thrown into some random body.

It confused him to no end, but the pain killers they had prescribed him helped a ton, and apparently he had records of going to high school so he was still able to to get into a college and at least try and live a life; although he couldn't remember what his was.

He scrunched up his eyes, a frown settled deeply upon his face as his head pounded. He hissed softly, pausing and rubbing his temples before pushing open the door to his dorm building. After a shaky ascent up the stairwell (thanking God that he only lived on the second floor), he fumbled with his keys for a moment before getting his door unlocked. He gingerly walked into his room, keeping his eyes squinted because any form of light only amplified the pain.

He walked into the kitchen and set his books down on the counter, grabbing the pill bottle that he kept next to his coffee maker. He popped open the cap and poured two into his hand, quickly opening his fridge and grabbing a water bottle so that he could down them.

They took about thirty minutes to actually have any form of effect, and so he slipped off his tight jeans, collapsing onto his couch in the living room in just his boxers and his sweater.

He whimpered softly at the pain, snuggling his face into the pillow there and willing himself to go to sleep just so that he could escape the pain. It was such a hassle, considering that he had projects to work on and this was holding him up, but there was no possible way he would able to get anything done when he brain felt like it was trying to burst out of his skull.

His fingers curled into the cushions of the couch, praying that God would just have mercy and let him fall asleep.

And he did.

--

His hands were strong, long slender fingers gripping my waist possessively as I slowly lowered myself down onto his lap.

We were sat in an unfamiliar apartment, moonlight illuminating both of our already sweat covered bodies. My entire body tingled, skin already marked so beautifully by his tongue and teeth.

I pressed my hands against his chest to support myself, mouth dropping open in ecstasy as I felt him slowly go deeper and deeper inside me until I was fully seated. I was already well spent, having had already cum once from his hand alone, but I needed this. The feeling of his hand was nothing compared to the erotic burn as he stretched me open, my pathetic cries echoing out into the air and begging for "more", "harder".

His dark brown hair was matted with sweat, lips letting out low groans that made shivers go down my spine. He snapped his hips up in return to meet each bounce of my hips, and I let out a sob when one of his hand drifted down to wrap around my cock. Everything was so overwhelming; his voice, his movements, his touches.

I wanted bruises. I wanted marks to let myself remember every single burning touch he left on my body. I wanted to sear the feeling of his hot lips against my skin into my memories.

I needed him, I needed him. I needed all of him, and wanted anything and everything he could give me.

His hand tugged on my cock in time with his thrusts, and in no time I was coming, crying out his name into the otherwise silent room.

"J-"

Jimin gasped, eyes fluttering open and heart beating quickly as he woke up from the dream he had been having. Sweat coated his skin, face flushed and body hot as he shivered at the thought of what he had just imagined.

He was obviously hard in his boxers, a whimper leaving his lips as he rolled his hips against one of the pillows on his couch. The plus side was that his headache had dissipated. The down side was that he was painfully aroused, moans beginning to spill past his lips as he slid his hand down his body and began to palm himself slowly.

He closed his eyes softly, attempting to transport himself back into his imagination.

The hands gripping so harsh they threatened to bruise.

Jimin took in a shaky breath, slipping his hand into his boxers and wrapping a hand around his already leaking cock.

Lips sucking, teeth scraping and biting, tongue dragging across salty skin.

He pumped himself a few times, grip already slicked up from the precum that was spilling out. He moaned out into the air, tilting his head to the side and arching his back ever so slightly.

Hands in his hair, tugging hard enough to burn in a beautiful pain that he couldn't get enough of.

He bucked his hips up into his own hand, whimpering out in a way that he knew sounded pathetic and desperate. He didn't care, he already knew he was both of those things.

Bouncing on his lap, pleasure fizzling throughout his body as his prostate was nailed with each drop of his hips.

Jimin felt the heat bubbling in his lower stomach, thighs quivering as his release was so close he could tell if would only be a few more tugs before he was gone.

Cum coating his chest, hips stuttering to a halt and cock releasing everything deep inside Jimin.

Jimin cried out, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. He pushed his sweater up his stomach, revealing more skin just in time for himself to release all over the newly bared skin.

He took a moment to catch his breath, skin incredibly hot as he panted.

Those had been happening since the 'accident' too. Vivid dreams, all explicit and incredibly detailed. All being of him and some mystery man in unhindered moments of pure ecstasy.

He didn't know if it was just his subconscious telling him that it was high time he got laid, or if they were broken memories from his forgotten past.

But he still wanted to find out.

Though it seemed almost impossible at this point.

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