"Believe nothing you hear and only one half that you see."

- Edgar Allen Poe (The System of Dr. Tarr and Prof. Fether)

Sitting on the edge of your bed, your legs swing back and forth as droplets of water run down your spine, clad in a baby pink bathrobe. You stare at his photo. His silver hair parted; his plump lips formed in a cutesy pout – he smiled like an angel. You scroll past that post and find him at a club, an old-fashioned whiskey glass gripped loosely in his hand as he looked at the camera. He had a devilish grin on his face.

Six months, fourteen days, and twenty-two hours ago was the last time you had sex which was breakup sex with your long-term boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend – Park Jimin. You had been dating him ever since high school, your friends even called you the 'ideal couple'. Everyone around you, though very happy to see you two together, was jealous of how they didn't have what you lovebirds had. What they didn't know was that with time your liaison had lost the spark. The physical aspect of the relationship was evergreen but the emotional half of it had slimmed down to the point you two sat together one day and decided that it's better to part ways. It was a mutual agreement.

It took you some time to move on but somehow it was easier than you thought. Maybe it was because you had it coming even before the breakup. But now because of your ever-so-growing libido, you couldn't resist wanting to see him again. You had tried online dating, and even going on blind dates but none could par with Jimin. He was like the human version of Aphrodite. You can never resist him. And you feel guilty as charged for constantly communicating with him in the past few weeks.

What started as a casual post-breakup conversation on social media has now bloomed into "yes, I want to fuck you... no, I want to get fucked by you both physically and emotionally." Pfft, you didn't say that to him in real life, it was just a thought you possessed in the back of your sexually frustrated mind. You had decided today to phone him and to talk.

"Hello?" His soft voice makes a smile creep up on your face when he picks up after the third ring.

"Hi Jimin," you sigh contently.

"_ _ _, ah how are you?" Jimin straightens his posture as he realises it's you.

"I am- I am doing great actually," you lie. You're anything but great. You want to lunge on him and rip his clothes off but that would be an odd conversation starter. "How have you been?"

"Just a little tired, it's going to be midnight here in America."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you chuckle embarrassingly. "I didn't realise it'd be so late there. I can call you some other time then."

"No no no no." You hear his velvety laughter. "It's the perfect time to talk..." He hesitates. "I kind of miss you."

Your heart skips a beat. Pulling your phone away from your face, you internally scream. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. What are you supposed to reply with?

"I guess I feel the same way, hence, the phone call." You sound like you're uncertain rather than returning his heartfelt confession. You mentally face-palm yourself for acting like a fourteen-year-old teenage girl talking to her crush.

You imagine him shrugging on the other side, a stupid smile flaunting on his face – which turns out to be true. You know him so well. "What are you doing?"

"I just took a shower." You answer as you fiddle with the string of your bathrobe.

He asks with mischief laced in his tone. "And what are you wearing?"

"Right now? You know, a robe. The baby pink one." You blush thinking about how he can turn the conversation in a completely different direction.

"Apparently, your favourite colour," you add.

"Hmm, interesting." You hear him shuffle. Is he sitting on a bed too? "Do you want to take it off? I'd like you to take that off."

"Maybe." You tilt your head to the side as you view your reflection in the floor-length mirror facing your bed. You see yourself lazily sprawled across the satin covers with your legs spread open, suspended from the bed.

You slowly untwine the strap of fabric holding your robe together, all while your eyes remain focused on your reflection. As the robe descends your body and falls on the bed, bit by bit your figure is unravelled. The wrap comes undone flaunting your glistening collarbone and your perked-up breasts, nipples poking out. And your soft tummy, and your belly button, and... The reveal stops there.

"It's off," You confess.

Jimin's demeanour changes. "Good girl. Are you in your room?" He asks in a husky low-toned voice. His voice dives directly to your core and you shudder.

"Yes, I am. On the bed, facing the mirror." You hear a low grunt. He knows your little kink for exhibitionism and your vintage mirror that you keep for the sole purpose of looking at yourself when you do dirty, dirty things. And you know how much he loves it.

"You just love it when your pretty little naked body is on show?" He whispers sensually.

"I do."

You are growing impatient. He can hear it in your voice. But he's the type of person who likes to torture slowly. He sinks into his couch, tilts his head to the side, and reaches down to palm himself through his pants. The mere knowledge of him being the cause of your frustration is turning him on.

"Jimin?" You whimper. Why isn't he responding to you? You are growing more and more frustrated as the seconds pass by.

"Yes, dear?" You moan when the words leave his mouth. You loved it when he called you with nicknames. You love nicknames. You run your cold fingers across your hardened nipples, pinching it slightly.

"What are you doing right now?"

"Guess?"

"Mhm, must be something outrageous," he groans. "I want you to take that pretty hand of yours lower. Do it slowly. And touch yourself."

You put him on speaker mode and place the phone beside you. You leisurely lift your robe completely, leaving you stark naked. You spread your legs further and view your dripping slit in the mirror as you run two fingers up and down. It makes you moan harder. Which makes him release a grunt he didn't know he was holding.

Jimin quickly unzips his pants and shoves it halfway down his thighs along with his boxers. His cock springs free, bobbing against his stomach. After gaudily spitting into his palm, he drags it up and down his shaft. You mewl as you hear him making a mess of his cock.

"Oh fuck, _ _ _ _. You make me so hard."

"Mhm."

"Now put a finger inside." You obey as he says, your uneven moan answering his order.

You fondle your breasts with one hand and finger yourself with the other as you put on a show for your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes flutter shut as you imagine Jimin pumping himself – his pretty face covered in pearls of sweat, his thick eyebrows furrowed, his long eyelashes shut, and his luscious pink lips puckered in a pout. The urge to kiss him right now is increasing as your moans get muddled and you near your peak.

"Fuck, Jimin!" You whine.

Jimin's relaxed strokes have now increased its pace. He bites his lips trying to suppress his vulgar groans. He needs to remember that it's midnight where he lives and he does not want to wake up his neighbours. His lifted shirt exposes his defined abs, droplets of sweat dripping down and reaching his pubic hair streaming down from under his belly button to his member.

"Jimin, fuck! I want you so fucking bad." You're panting desperately, rubbing your clit vigorously while you finger yourself.

"I know doll. I want you under me. I want to fuck you so bad and so hard, just the way you like it.

"You sound so fucking needy."

"Is that so? Put another finger inside. Now!" You know you pulled a nerve but it's turning you on even more.

"Y-yeah," you reply, easing in another finger. You're indeed so wet and ready. If only it was his hardened length entering you. You're left with your incomplete want for only a second when Jimin's hoarse voice cuts your train of thoughts.

"Now put a third finger."

"What? It's too much." You try to even out your breath. He hisses in return.

"Do as I tell you."

You insert your ring finger inside your dripping wet cunt, cursing under your breath while adjusting to the tightness.

"What was that?"

"It's too tight Jimin." You say honestly.

"My baby has not been fucked rightly all these months," he manages to form the perfect sentence all while pumping himself so hard he'd combust any moment. He wants to make you feel good, and for that, he's willing to do anything right now. Even if it ends up waking up his neighbours.

"Fuck Jimin, I've been waiting for your big dick."

"I'm here now baby"

"I want you to ruin me with that big fat cock," you gasp.

That's all it takes for Jimin to come undone as he lifts his hips off the couch and fucks himself upward into his hand while moaning your name as loudly as possible. Your dirty talk has that effect on him. It still amazes him when a person who looks as innocent as you, with your puppy eyes, can say those lewd words.

You have not reached your high yet, you're edging. Jimin catches his breath and tries to compose himself. Wiping off sweat from his face he coos. "Is there a pillow nearby?"

"Yes, hold on." You hastily pick up an idle pillow and wait for his further instructions.

"Fold it, and ride it," he whispers. "Ride the pillow imagining it's me." You turn around and sit up on your knees. You angle the folded pillow in a way that you're again facing the mirror. You lower yourself till your core touches its surface, you hiss the moment your dropping clit comes in contact with the soft fabric.

"Good girl."

You look right into the mirror making eye contact with your reflection. You bite your lower lip, your teeth grazing the soft skin delightfully. You gently rock yourself gently all while looking yourself in the mirror, causing an eruption of friction between your heat and the fabric. It feels so good. You hold the pillow with one hand while squeezing your breast with the other. "It feels so good."

"I know baby. Are you imagining riding me?"

"Yes," you confess. You imagine Jimin laying down under you instead of the pillow. You imagine running your palms across his toned abs and his soft locks. You pivot your hips faster and roll your head back, closing your eyes. Your breasts jiggle as you increase your pace. Jimin guides you through the high, in his sweet seductive voice.

"Say my name," Jimin urges.

You moan his name again and again as if it's a hymn that'll save you from everything. You buck your hips harder and pant breathlessly. You know you're very close. Your body starts trembling and you have to use both your hands to balance yourself on the bed.

"Come for me baby, come for me."

You let go of all the restraints you've been holding for so long. His command is enough to make you shudder and release. You arch your body, whimper loudly for the whole world to hear, and roll your eyes to the back of your head as you reach orgasm. Your body is still slowly rocking back and forth, riding the euphoria. You look at yourself in the mirror; face glowing both with sweat and the after-effects of pleasure, hair bunched up in a mess, and knees placed weakly on the bed. You plop flat on the bed and try to calm yourself.

You both stay quiet on the line for a while, trying to match each other's inhaling and exhaling.

"Jimin?" You rasp.

"Hmm?"

"When will you come back to Korea?"

He hesitates for a bit, drawing in a wave of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. You regret asking him at all, knowing the answer.

"Soon," he answers cautiously.

"Alright," you bite your lip. "It's getting quite late Jimin, you should get some rest."

Jimin doesn't fail to notice the change in your tone. He doesn't know what to say, he cannot comprehend how he feels.

"Thank you for today, Good night ___."

"Good night," you say softly and end the call. You throw your phone across the bed and sigh. You look up at the ceiling wondering what must be going on in Jimin's mind. There's nothing you can come up with, he is unpredictable sometimes. You hate it and you give up on thinking.

You're slowly drifting off to slumber but jolt upright when you hear your cell phone chime. It must be Jimin, you think. You're hopeful.

You reach for your phone and unlock it. Your heart is beating recklessly. You become disappointed again when you see it's a message from an unknown number. Yet, you still open it.

Unknown [ 1:10 PM ]

You are a dirty little girl.

That's highly unlikely of Jimin. You decide to reply anyway.

You [ 1: 13 PM ]

who's this?

The reply comes so fast, it seems like the person was waiting for your answer all this while.

Unknown [ 1:14 PM ]

You know, an old friend.

You [ 1:15 PM ]

i'm sorry, could you be more specific?

Unknown [ 1:15 PM ]

Of course, my love. This is Edgar Allen Poe. You can call me Poe.

Your blood turns cold. You reread the message once again, and again, not believing the sight your eyes are seeing. This cannot be happening. How did this person get your phone number? You gulp hard and look on your left, your computer sitting straight, daunting you to turn it on. Your beating heart is telling you two things. One, you're fucked. And two, you need to contact K00kies97 so that he can fix the blunder you've created.

You hear another notification and look at your phone screen.

Unknown [ 1:19 PM ]

Oh, don't look so glum now. Buttercup.

You desperately look around the room, searching for a hidden person peeping at you through the window or someone breaking into your house. You find no one. The text is mocking you, and you know it. You are scared but you don't know what to do.

As a starter, you block the Unknown phone number first and head for the computer.

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A/N : Fun fact; this is the first smut(-ish) content I've ever written haha. *hides in a corner*