Fool’s Gold. (m) | III. | Park Jimin, 6.3k

Pairing:Reader x Jimin

Summary:You and Jimin are both through the looking glass now and is what you both desire too much?

Warnings/Tags: RATED M - for language; references to alcohol and drugs; references to loneliness in reader pov; Jimin’s a chauffeur (yup); the reader wasn’t having a very good time butnowit’s different; less of the references to shitty techno-pop music more references to the sappy stuff (maybe); light-hearted banter this time; the dreams relate to something real now; it’s really about wanting here; curse money, curse it all; okay, now for the more serious tags: smut (fem-reader; penetrative sex; unprotected sex; the use of ‘Ahjussi’ in the bedroom (only v briefly to tease, i’m sorry); he also has a piercing (guess where?); biting; praise kink; everything is messy, so so messy) - non-idol!AU.

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-

Birthdays were a travesty.

They became so the moment you realised that your father and mother cared more aboutwho came than how you felt. The house gets buried in a spool of streamers, the floor swallowed by odd-shaped confetti, the music gets loud.To compensate, you become garrulous, smiling so wide that your cheeks ached.

“Who are you again?”

Your voice comes out slurred, the vowels twisting in your mouth.

The person is familiar under the violet strobe lights, their features aren’t new to you, their touch either. Just as fast as you thought of the question, you think of another. They let your hand go, leaving you floating. The lights get irritating if you stand still for too long, techno-bubble-pop starts hiss through the fridge-sized speakers that are stuck in each corner of the room. Your brain swells from the pressure so you move, you jump and dance. It’s not very impressive, your birthdays.

Quite passé given the circumstances.

Another person shoves their way into the pulsing shoal of people, someone plants a wet kiss on your cheek. You also get sticky during these events, coated in other people’s attention.

“Babe, great party!”

“Mm,” you hummed, eyes fluttering close.

Being surrounded by people got old in the business of living. That’s why you kept moving, can’t be stuck in one place too long otherwise you become aware that they’re not actually here for you, they’re here for the idea of you. Everyone knows you could never compare. Or maybe that was just you.

Didn’t matter. It’s all a game anyway.

Someone says your name but you search for a drink. You didn’t want the hard stuff yet, it’s too early.

As you drank from a shot glass you think that the thing about being alone is that you miss it. You miss the company of others, the touch of a person specifically. But what’s blinding, what the real high for you is the touch of someone who cares.A guy catches your eye, they’re looking at you weird, they must be a friend of a friend. Or a friend of a friend of a friend. Who fucking knows anymore.

Days before your party, you went down to visit another friend. They were working in the financial district, their office at the highest floor of the tallest skyscraper. It took you more than ten minutes just to get to right floor and on the way, you saw this employee. Imposing, broad chested and burly. Reminded you of Jungkook when he was in one of those moods. It was like you were able to superimpose that image, overlay it until it was good enough to feast on.

Look at me.

That’s what you thought when you passed him, cutting it close. Not only did you want the touch of another but you wanted to commit that to memory, despite your fears. You never did come into contact, content with the distance. You wore fear like a security blanket nowadays, made to ward off the consequences of wanting something so much. The odd look from the guy across the room wavers, you realise that he’s not really here.

A shout startles you off-kilter: “Turn that up louder!” Accompanied by a roar of applause and the general clamour that came with parties like this. The music booms, the chandelier atop with its crystal drops quiver to the frequency.

You see Jimin in a matter of seconds, it makes you sling an arm over another person because it’s as if your lungs contracted, shrivelling suddenly. He looked dapper in the setting, all made up in a suit. Handsome in any light, so tempting.

The length of time he’s been working for your family escaped you but it was long enough for the small details of him to come together. Jimin was quiet yet cheerful, you heard his laugh and considered it contagious ever since. Dark hair swept to the side in an ideal arc, rounded eyes, don’t think it passed you how it lingers like it did now.

Once he was through the doorway, carted off by Taehyung, you revert back to a puppet with its strings cut. Inwardly, you wanted Jimin to come back because every time you saw him he was already looking at you. It was enough to sate this tremendous yearning you had, a different kind of addiction.

Maybe he sees you in the way you wanted - the way you needed.

In the red-blue shaft of light you stood under, you buzz from all that you took to keep you sane. Someone gropes your waist and you lean in, taste the bitter gin on their tongue. In exchange you dip your lips to their neck, tasting salt.

Yeah, birthday’s were a travesty.

-

Dancing leaves no room for talking, you liked it that way as it avoids you having to speak about trivial things. No one really wanted to know why you sulk so much or why you’re back here to rot. It helps you forget about the things you couldn’t control.

Thankfully Taehyung took those wretched flowers out of sight. They weren’t worth much if they reeked of your father’s guilt.

Finding success in dragging Jimin up the stairs to the main room, you note that he looked even better in the kitchen lighting. You could see his bright complexion and despite his tired eyes, he was agreeable. Soft hands in yours, you laughed as he stumbled poorly up the final step.

“Careful,” you warned, tugging him close, closer. He dips his head, giving you a strained smile.

It’s faint but it’s there, the scent of sweet shampoo and a hint of soap. Clean, sharp, things you’d expect from someone like him.

The chandelier trembles from the bass, you’re around people again, but this time, Jimin’s hands are on your waist. It’s a little fuzzy so you circle your arms around his neck, his touch is bewitching. You attempt to speak, which isn’t like you at all, frankly. And, as if your mind knows, you end up laughing instead.

What must you look like to him?

Desperate?

Sad?

The realisation makes you pull away, mind throbbing from the protests of Stop that, you’re being weird.You don’t wait long enough to see how he looks at you, blanking out. You laughed too before you separated, failing in being cool. You’re in some partygoers arms now, getting lifted.

“Three cheers for the birthday girl!”

Held above, squeezed at the ribs, you’re overwhelmed by a sea of faces, Jimin is nowhere to be seen.

-

The rest of the evening waxes and wanes, details escape you in your stupor. Taehyung has left, you and Jimin talked and talked and talked.The breaking of one of your cardinal rules wasn’t detrimental but it made you antsy.

He said something that dulled all worry, though.

Something that sounded like love.

Whatever you took or drank wasn’t nearly enough to help with the nerves, this jittery feeling that comes with being seen. You needed another high, one that took you to the edge. That prospect died that moment Jimin kicked your supply under the dishwasher. A part of you was grateful since in some way, he sensed that you didn’t want to be consumed in a numb state.

You didn’t remember that day he spoke of, that day on the rooftop where you were surrounded by papers. Likely from your time trying to make it as a writer. The ideas in your mind were left too long that they festered. The ink that coated your fingers were superficial, the prose coming empty. Insipid.

You keep watching him as he told that story, but your eyes wandered to the dangerous valley that his unbuttoned collar showed. His neck is slender, there’s a mole there too. Very enticing.

The want returns, as if that’s what you needed to survive, telling of the yearning is howling inside you now. Eager, you cling to him as he kicks the door to the spare room shut. Your back hits the bed, mouth wet and fingers searching for clasps, buttons, zips. The removal of clothes is mechanical if not awkward, but what comes after was worth it.

Skin, touch, and proximity.

Perhaps it’s the culmination of stares, touches, and longing. Perhaps you had already been together like this in some way and this was the natural way of things. As if being with Jimin like this switches the sensitivity of your body up a notch, reminding you of nights where you’re sore from being with someone during sweltering summers, sweating not just from being caught under the sun but from a body on yours, between your legs, the sea breeze from Biarritz on your tastebuds. To be transparent about it, you missed holding someone’s cock, a temporary delight that shoves the bitter things trapping you for the past weeks -months.

“Am I reading this -” you begin to ask, a smirk curving your lips. Jimin shakes his head prematurely.

“I want to… I want to touch you,” he said, hovering above as you panted beneath him, clothing already askew. It was just meant to be sunrise on the roof but this is so much better. His eyes are so dark, it’s like they’re soaked in black tar.

“Alright, whatever you need,” you replied, then you caught yourself, “whatever you want, Ahjussi.”

It’s so dumb, he’s not even thatmuch older than you, but old is gold. And you had a feeling that this term of endearment will stick come morning. In response, Jimin gathers your wrists, pinning them above your head, your body arches up, your breathing laboured. The room is spacious but the air is syrupy. It might be just be you though, you had a tendency to get worked up, then your head gets hot from all the racing thoughts.

You see it though, the way Jimin registers your words. Whatever you want. His eyes rove over your body communicating his wants, his needs.You want him to hold you, to feel cocooned, want that sticky slap of skin, sweat on the sheets. To have him quick and rocking inside you, first comes the pain then the pleasure.

“Can I…” He hesitates, hand skimming your side, “touch you?”

It’s too soft, why must he ask twice?

“You can,” you encouraged, twisting your arm back to drag the short zip of your top down. It falls away and his eyes, they go wide. Somewhat conscious of the imbalance, you unbutton his shirt. Under all of that drab, that pristine white cotton hides the ripple of tan muscles. Jimin doesn’t touch you yet, you don’t want to goad but it’s torturous.

“This really okay?”

“Yes - yes,” you whispered.

Glad not to have done the hard stuff, you didn’t have to worry about your libido tanking. The trade off was that the itch didn’t need scratching, it needed eradicating. So much waiting, it leaves ample time for thoughts to creep in. Like how this wasreally okay, that Jimin isn’t really employed by your household, he doesn’t drive your father around. These things don’t matter so much, not really

You’re in the spare room at the lower levels of your apartment, it’s your birthday. And he’s a handsome stranger at the eleventh hour.

He’s touching you so gently, careful hands on your neck, somehow cooling your scorched skin. His tongue flicks out, licking at the pulse of your throat, languid, sending shivers down, down.

“Fuck,” you moaned, his hand coming into contact with your clothed pussy under your skirt. It’s all too reverent at the moment, you can’t help but arch up, nipples brushing against his firm chest. He groans at your neck, open mouth followed by the graze of teeth. There’s too many clothes, not the right kind of friction. Impatient, you shove at his shirt, yank at his belt. He lets you, sounding amused.

Jimin was nice to look at, even in the low light. With the shirt off, your eyes adjust. He’s managed to get half-hard but that’s not the real kicker: there’s an unmistakable glint, are those nipple rings?

“What? Are you laughing?”

You squeeze at his bicep, fascinated at how the blood is displaced, a pale mark in the shape of your thumb on his skin. Lifting your touch, the trace of you fades.

“Nothing. it’s just like you to get something like this done,” you replied, thinking about the sensitivity of them. Your breath comes out in a shudder, so loud in your arousal that it screamed the filth of your thoughts.

“What’s the supposed to mean?” He asked, voice going down a timbre.

“What were you, a wayward?”

You couldn’t seem to reconcile that with the clean cut image of the Jimin you knew. Around your father, he didn’t set foot out of line. His hands settle on your naked skin, your heart beats erratically, hairs standing to attention. He answers as he slips your skirt off you.

“Lost a bet.”

Knuckles brush over your underwear, the slightest pressure, you’re already wet, clit pressing uncomfortably on the mesh. You need something soft, blunter. His fingers tease, a slow motion that temporarily soothes.

“And your nipples were the first thing at stake?” You asked, breath hitching because everything is so warm, the initial wave of arousal makes you lift your hands. It’s only a light touch over his nipples but he gives out a gasping breath, lips wet. It’s unfair that you’re not doing anything, so you rub them, and he weakens, forehead clammy against yours.

“Friends were assholes, got me so drunk that I agreed to -” he starts, briefly cut off because you crash your mouth against his, a messy connection of tongues and the snap of teeth, saliva on lips. The next words are lost, you’re hungry, fingers searching against, delving into his dark hair. So good, so nice.

“Up, c’mon.”

He was talking about moving further up the bed. You oblige, the rush hitting you altogether, head thudding against the tufted headboard. Jimin gets fully undressed then kneels between your legs. Clipped, short nails on your thighs, your nipples harden into pebbled peaks. He lifts your underwear up and off, cool air makes your bare pussy tender, the sensation jolting you.

The mattress is stiff, hardly used. It presses unhelpfully against your back, your thighs spreading, the coil in the pit of your stomach is contained, the need is so sudden, it’s heavy and overwhelmed.

“Hold me,” you whispered, pulling him down, saying it again in a kiss. Darkness heightens touch, your tongue licks into his mouth, teeth nipping at his upper lip, plush and soft.

Jimin’s weight is pleasant, depressing your breath, pushing out your thoughts. There’s no space, just touch. And so, so nice. Like falling and floating, one with air.

“Please, more,” you gasped, grinding your core against his crotch, hand curling on his hair, cock hard as he rolls his hips in a deliberate circle. It burns, this proximity. He groans in your mouth, the slick glide of his length along your slit emits little, wet noises, sparring with the rush of the sheets.

“Harder, Min,” you plead, sighing at the feel of his hands shackling your wrists down.

It shouldn’t be this easy, the surge for something good shouldn’t give way to you losing it this quickly. You hold your breath, canting your hips up, the head of his cock nudges your clit and you hiss. Jimin grunts, leaving you unrestrained. It’s a little premature, making you cling onto the feeling, hands massaging his shoulders, lacing fingers over his neck, sweaty at the nape.

You’re trembling, legs hitching up and thighs spreading wide. The pleasure broils under the arousal, he knows it too. He kisses you with fervour, more weight to it this time, hands busy kneading, squeezing, pinning.

“Jimin,” you gasped, coaxing, shameless in the way you open up to him, his fingers not staying long enough to sink in your heat. His lips find the shell of your ear, his accent faltering a tad, What is it that you need?

“Just hold me,” you said, voice unlike your own.

And he does, all silky smooth skin, heat and taut muscle. You accept it all, tingling everywhere, not sure how your breathing is all ragged from touching and grinding, but it’s there. He presses your legs towards you, taking a moment for you to loosen up till your knees crush your tits, it’s bawdy to be bent like this. Sex is like that.

“Shit,” he marvels. You knew what it must have looked like otherwise Jimin wouldn’t be in pieces right now. To help, you secure your hands at the back of your thighs, holding position. Exposed and trusting. Jimin circles a hand on your ankle, his other holding his cock. The stretch makes you gasp, his hips slowly inching forward.

“F-fuck,” you uttered, pussy clenching at the tip of his cock.

For a long, unbearable moment, nothing happens. Jimin looks pained,his chest heaves while you whimper, relaxing, eyes shutting as white dots spark in your vision.

“It’s okay, you can go like that,” you said, chewing on your lip. It’s a polite way of saying hurry up. Jimin dips his head, eyes turning darker but they shine. He must have heard the desperation in your voice.

“Shh, it’s okay. You can bite me if you want.”

Your legs part as he lowers, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, moaning as the new pressure, the slow ease of his cock spearing inside your pussy. The thrash of your hips is aimless, the grinding is jittered, seeking more of him. Your teeth sinks on the corner where his neck meets his shoulder, it’s salty as your tongue flicks across heated skin. His moans fan your hair, hips beginning to move.

“Fuck,” he groaned, bottoming out, your fingers claw at the sheets, Jimin fucks into you in slow strokes. It’s satisfying, so cathartic like this, exactly how it should be. You’re whimpering, words lost in the clumsy translation of your bodies, the drag of his cock sending you spiralling.

“Keep going - like that,” you gasped, it’s so thick, this feeling, bolstered by the warmth seeping everywhere. And he drives his hips forward, stilling just to grind and you shake. Your pussy clings around his cock as he pulls out and rams back in. You can’t even move, nails clawing at his back, spurring that grunt that dies on the space by your head. Your back arches, loving the harsh, physical contact, thrusts on the liminal edge of pain.

“Ah..ahn,” you moaned, shuddering, teeth locking onto his skin, using all your strength to grind hard and fast, losing it a little each time. Jimin lifts his head, lips sealing over yours, tongue forceful in the way it parts your mouth, everything is sticky, drying sweat makes things chafe but not where it mattered. The kiss is sloppy and wet, Jimin slams into you, the solid smackof hips meeting yours, the stretch of his cock, it’s delicious and you struggled to stay in place, jostled up the bed.

“Shit…ah,fuck,” he huffs, stopping to readjust you both.

“Ah, Min, I can’t,” you babbled, lax as you you bask in the feeling, this thing that’s evaded you for so long.

“You can,” he said, answering your muddled thoughts. He reaches down, thumbing your clit in lazily circles. “You’re really wet, so fucking good, taking me like this, hm?” He brings it up, resting it on your bottom lip, you lick at it, tasting yourself, suckling on the blunt pad until you drag your tongue down his palm, a slick stripe of saliva that makes him laugh. He goes back with the same hand, forking his fingers to expose your clit, simultaneously thrusting. It all goes to your head, bodies sliding in submission, his cock is thick and follows each pull and push of his hips.

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” you choked out.

Jimin hauls you to sit up, and you cry out at the change in angle. He cups your ass, controlling the rhythm, “you’re so good, doing so good,” he said, stroking the small of your back as he assumes this easy grind up. You must have given it away in your face because the next thing he does is jar you, fingers kneading the nape of your neck, “you like that? Me telling you that you’re good?”

And his eyes are dark, his hips jutting up, his cock hitting you deeper, you collapse onto him, trying to wade through the fog of pleasure. He says your name, “want me to praise you?”

You nod, holding onto him, clenching unforgivably around his length, “tell me, tell me I’m good.”

Jimin lowers you back on the bed, kissing everything, your cheeks, your eyelids. “What else? Want me to tell you that you’re beautiful? That you’re good, so good?” He follows this with a forceful thrust, fucking into you steadily again. You moaned, head hitting the sheets, crying out at your clit getting the friction it needed, he keeps close, “want to hear that I’m struggling to hold myself out because you’re this tight?”

You almost cum, if not for him slowing down. He’s relentless with what he says, slipping even dirtier confessions in your ear, talking as if you’re his to own, to use.He knows what to do, as if attuned to every micro reaction you give, always finishing with tender words, never letting you comprehend, until -

“That’s a good girl.”

And then you let go, heat blasting through you in an acute wave, lightning striking from within, sizzling and searing through you, toes curling as Jimin swallows your moans. He holds you down as your stomach tenses, thighs rippling as he continues, chasing his own peak. You let him, yelping into his mouth, trying and failing to contain the pleasure that rips you into overstimulation.

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” he grunts, spilling inside you, fucking you in slower pumps, your eyes squeezed shut, fireworks everywhere, muting all senses, mind emptying into a nothingness. Your orgasm fizzles then ebbs, Jimin rocking into you, hair plastered to his forehead, careful not to jolt you as he pulls away. You blink at the mess between you, the heated, sticky pool of your arousal smearing your thighs, his cock coated in it.

“Fuck,” you breathed, not quite believing it.

For a while, it’s just you trying to catch your breaths. You don’t want it to come back, but it does. You’re hollowed out, you feel hot and in need of something clean. Jimin walks away and comes back swiftly, towel in hand from the adjoining bathroom. He moves with familiarity that it prompts you to question:

“Been here before?” You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows. He grins, spreading your legs to smooth over the raw skin; the towel is rough but does the job.

“Sometimes I crash here if I stay late with Tae.”

That explains it.

The apartment is enormous and it’s just you and your father.

Aftershocks come in the form of static spreads where he last touched, “feel okay?” He asked. You nod, watching him massage your skin, tapping fingers, and handling you as if you were fragile. On a normal day, you’d protest, but it’s lovely. You stare at each other, a little bewildered as to how far to take this. He brushes against your tender core, knuckles on your core for a moment, sending you into a palpable shudder. “Sorry.”

“’S fine.”

More silence. More opportunity to think. You’re not even drunk anymore. Jimin is calm, shifting the sheets until you’re both under them. The weight isn’t as nice but his arm around you isn’t artificial. Sleep should come next but the air isn’t conducive to that, reality bites. You watch each other, accepting this vulnerability. When you think you want to say something or when he looks like he’s considering the same reality, you both keep it to yourselves.

-

Laying side by side on the huge mattress, enveloped under the sheets, Jimin finally speaks. His voice is croaky.

“You look sad.”

It was meant to upset, this concern, but it felt so good to have him say that out loud. Better than being stuck together, sweaty and panting into each other’s mouths. You could get that plenty, but this? It hits all the spots that physical touch can’t remedy.

And that’s bliss.

You could only smile, not giving it away because that would be weird. Who likes being told that they’re sad? You couldn’t tell him that what he said was fine, either. Nothing’s fine about what he said and the fact that you chose to accept it.

The room is sparsely decorated, one painting from an auction hangs by the door. A seascape reminding you of your mother. You search for other things to look at and your eyes wander back to Jimin. The first thing you think about is how he’s neat and clean cut. There’s a method to how he carries himself. His nails are cut short, his hair is trimmed, his skin is bright. In fact, it’s too bright and healthy for someone who barely has a fixed schedule, driving all over the city. For more physical matters, his jaw is cut sharp, unlike the rest of his features, worn soft, down to his puckered lips. He seems to notice this unabashed examination and mumbles, “what?”

“How’d you look like that?” You asked.

“Like what?”

“You’re all… sparkly, pouty, then you get pretty, like really pretty. You’re put together, know what you want, just get on with things. I admire that.”

Blame it on the drunkenness, blame it on feeling like you’re suspending in this haze.

“There’s hardly any light - ” he laughs, a tad nervous.

“No, you’re… strangely sensual, like a creature moulded from a dream. You’re so interesting, magical.”

You scold yourself inwardly, You’re being weird again, stop it. But Jimin hikes the sheets up to cover your shoulders.

“Alright alright, you really are a writer.”

That makes you smile.

“Was.”

You weren’t sure what you were doing now, it’s all a blur. All of your shit hasn’t really gotten together. The point when that happened, when progress just halted, you can’t remember either. You push his hair away, counting the moles on his forehead.

“Really, you look insane, Min.”

He laughs, “flattery again.” It ends in a subtle lisp, his accent lilting in this sing-song manner.

“It’s truth telling. Sounds weird coming from me,” you replied.

He’s quick to come to your rescue when you don’t ask.

“No it doesn’t. I’m just not used to it.”

You meet the inky pools of his eyes, they relax, his blinks are slow.

“To what?” You asked, finding his hand under the sheets. He squeezes his palm against yours.

“Seeing myself how you see me.”

-

The house is empty and Jimin lends you his jacket that he’s retrieved from the kitchen. Everything you both wore was loose, the fabric of your skirt is wrinkled, you’re laying, outstretched on the couch like a cat, comfortable in its surroundings. The main space is trashed, confetti everywhere, it looks robbed.

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, catching him by the back of his thigh. He’s been searching for his other shoe for ages but couldn’t seem to locate it. Walking around in socks on a sticky floor made him grimace, the black wool is soiled. His shirt is on the chair across, his belt tossed under the bed, his tie is somewhere. The metal strap of his watch breaks up the skin from his forearm and wrist.

“What do you mean?” He asked back, looking down at you and smoothing your hair. It’s subtle but he feels you press into his touch.

“If this was one of those movies or novels, we would run away as the next scene,” you said, tugging him down onto the couch. With no luck about his shoe, he lets you slot yourself onto him, your calves flanking his waist. You fit together like a puzzle, like that he could kiss the inside of your knee. The supple skin tastes like you and him, he pauses, his lips lightly pressing.

“Where would we go?”

“Just far, like really far,” you murmured, that glaze in your eyes are back.

Jimin hauls himself up, bare skin scraping on the rough linen of the couch. Your statement spurs a forgotten dream of his, one of many left at the wayside. One that he picks up occasionally when he’s idle, forefinger tapping on the steering wheel as he watches your father exit the elevator, heading to the back seat.

“Busan.”

You reach forward, he kisses you before you ask.

“What will we get up to?”

It’s silly how he’s opening up like this. Jimin harboured wishes: a house by the sea, a humble restaurant with you at the front, bringing in the customers. Some would claim it to be too romantic, tame. His mother chastised him for constructing such lofty ideals, to search for money in something rooted in the sand is recipe for disaster she said. She was warning him about the customers being as fickle as the seasons. Jimin smiled politely, burning on the inside to prove her wrong. Although, its been years since any development regarding that. He’s been on the road for longer than he’d like.

“We could buy a plot of land, then we could build a restaurant.”

So far, you were paying him your undivided attention. While you hold his gaze, you play with his fingers, your thumb on the clasp of his watch. You’re harder to read when there’s a simmering excitement in your demeanour. The silence is too long, prompting him to fill it, to sellhis dream to you.

“It could be good. We won’t see the same face twice, we’re always busy, we’ll sleep well fed, we’d never be bored by the sea -”

You give him a look that he could guess as skeptical. You flick your thumb upwards causing his watch strap to unfasten. It falls down his arm, then you slide it back, closing the mechanism.

“You know this from experience?”

Jimin waits until your lips break into a smile. Relief comes that you’re not actually amused athim, at least that’s what he tells himself.

“I’ve worked at a couple of places before getting here but owning my own hours, feeding people good food - I’ll always come back to that.”

You stand up, hopping on one foot, twirling and totally disinhibited.

“And what would I do there?”

Without hesitating, Jimin says, “you’d be the face of the restaurant.”

You hand him his shirt back, he shoves his arms through, “you have a lot of faith in me.”

Jimin shakes his head, buttoning to the lowest level of decency. That meant three buttons unattended to, making the upper parts of his shirt gape.

“You’d be the one people would come and see, you’d know which drinks paired with which meals, know what kind of music fit the mood. You’d be the most memorable thing there,” he said, enjoying the way you grew shy.

“Each morning, without fail, we’d head down to the local market and buy the freshest produce, I’d let you choose the fish we need because I know you’d choose something good. We’ll end the day with a glass of wine by the beach, stroll along the coast as the sun sets. Me and you, barefoot. It’ll be bliss.”

It’s so vivid to him, he can feel the weight of the bags from the market on his fingers, the sour drop of wine on his tongue. He wriggles his toes as if sand had settled in the web, he’s grinning now because it’s all real. Across the room, you’re biting the skin of your thumb as you lean on the enormous speaker.

“And you’ve planned this with me in mind too?”

It’s a happy accident that his dream has room for you, he could grasp it so clearly which was why it came out in an effortless paragraph.

“We could drive all night, we’d be there in four hours. In fact, we could be by the sea by midday.”

Your expression falters suddenly, you’re teeth bites on the skin more firmly. Jimin braces himself because your eyes sparkle with a distinct edge to them.

“Do you love me, Min?”

Does he?

He plays it by ear, “I could. I want to.”

It doesn’t go well. You remove your hand near your mouth and twist your body away slightly, “what’s that supposed to mean? I thought you wanted me, that you were sick of feeling broken from not being with me.”

Jimin clenches his jaw, springing up to sit straighter, the creases at the elbow of his shirt make it harder to gesture, “it means that I can’t do that in this house. I can’t love you in the way I want to here.”

“Why? You need to explain that to me.”

It’s not the whinging that gets him, it’s the fact that his dream disappeared in the gulf you created. The lack of foresight, of yourforesight is a reminder.

“Your father.”

What he really wanted to say was what he knew: you were both different. It’s not the kind of different that can easily be surmounted by compromise, it’s fated and runs across generations. He surrenders to the reality he’s ensnared in.

“It wouldn’t work anyway,” he said, hanging his head. Apparently, that concerned you so you come back to straddle him. The glitter on your skin has scattered, some shimmer on the tip of your nose.

“It could,” you murmured, your lips ghosting over his, making his eyes close.

For a moment, he let’s himself be fooled that it’s all possible.

“We could build something together, make it real,” he replied, gaining some confidence in between hungry kisses. You giggled as his hands frame your face, the slip of your tongue is playful.

“You’re so serious about this,” you said, “you want to be like someone who employs others, earn your own keep. You’ll be like me then.”

Jimin knows it’s all in jest, that your words were meant to match your actions but that stings a little. His reply comes out before he could stop himself.

“It’s not possible for me to be like you.”

Another kiss, innocent.

“Why not?”

Pulling away, there’s a smile that edges your lips that he wanted to fade.

“Because I would have earned everything myself.”

A beat passes, you give out the softest of exhales, your brows pinching together.

“If that wasn’t so glaringly true I’d actually be offended.”

Jimin’s not sure if he’s crossed the line. Then again, what happened tonight crosses all of the thresholds. You laugh it off, getting up and wandering around again. The cerulean colour on your toenails appear like jelly.

“But seriously, how much have you planned about this restaurant by the sea?”

“I’ve planned enough,” he replied, moving towards you, cradling you in his arms. He feels you melt, going all limber.

“Well could you love me then?”

He doesn’t hesitate, “yes.”

You fall back on the couch together, giddy with dreams. He kisses your forehead, the tip of your nose, the apples of you cheeks. Then came the column of your neck, sweet skin that was his moments ago. He feels drunk on you, hands smoothing at your sides through the jacket that he lent you, sighing at your quiet moans.

“Have you got any?”

Bewildered, he asks, “any what?”

Nervousness is clear on your face, you toy with the collar of his shirt, “money?”

Quick on his feet, he lunges for an answer, “I have some saved. But I have other capital that’s worth more.”

“What other capital?”

Sensing another moot point, he keeps his distance, “you know, I have the skills I’ve picked up, I have the experience - ”

If you weren’t so close, he’d think that he saw you roll your eyes at him.

“Min, you can’t build a restaurant on experience,you can’t balance books on skill alone, where’s the money going to come from?”

Desperate for his dream not to sink so soon, he tucks your hair behind your ear, untangles what he could of your necklaces, “which is whyI need a partner who can provide the funds.”

“And where is this partner that you need at such short notice?”

Jimin bites his lip before speaking, “I mean, you must have something hidden away somewhere, maybe - ”

Abruptly, you untangle yourself from him, “hidden what? Have what? Do you mean cash at hand? People I know who will bend at my every whim?”

He’s silent and takes to buttoning the rest of his shirt up.

“Do you think it’s my choice to move back here? Do you think I’m back sleeping in my childhood bedroom voluntarily?” You complete this with a rough push of your fingers through your hair. “Min, I feel so… defective.If I had what you needed, do you think I’d still be living here?”

Staunch in his belief, he gets up and tries to wrangle you back in his arms, “you’re not really telling me that you have nothing at all, you must have something.”

You turn to him, scoffing, “what you’re looking for, and let’s call it what it is - my inheritance - is in a trust. I can’t just access it whenever I want.”

“But it’s yours, they can’t keep it from you -”

“Everything that I’ve inherited from -” you faltered for a moment, Jimin watches you blink back something he can’t read, “everything I’ve inherited from heris locked up in a trust. That’s the whole point of it, it’s to stop me from acting all reckless, like this,” you said, pointing generally to the room. “The process takes ago too, months even.”

Jimin deflates, “well, nothing happens then. We can’t do anything.” He makes for the door that leads to the kitchen, riled up for a reason he’d like to keep to himself.

Where’s the fucking techno-pop when you need it?

previous. / next.

masterlist (I)|masterlist (II)

Fool’s Gold. | II. | Park Jimin, 6.5k

Pairing:Reader x Jimin

Summary:The party carries on but you and Jimin settle in the kitchen. Talking seems better than dancing anyway.

Warnings/Tags: RATED T for language; references to alcohol; Jimin’s a chauffeur (yesss); the reader still isn’t having a very good time at all; more references to shitty techno-pop music; blood (nothing major because it’s tended to through finger sucking, yes, you got that right); nothing like mean-spirted banter to get things going; and dreams!it gets a little introspective; also there’s pining (surprise!); risqué ending if you ask me (seriously); angst - non-idol!AU.

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To be alone with you is rare, Jimin thinks. Since he’s technically under your father’s orders, he doesn’t get moments like these often. It’s mostly a mere brush in the hallway, or the occasional drop off or pick up at the airport. Sometimes, he might have a conversation with you about the weather, your next appointment, even the state of the gardens on the rooftop. You liked to compliment him yet it’s never amounted to more than surface-level chatter. He was fine with that, fine with being the only one doing the perceiving.

“Nice shirt,” you said, laying on the table, gaze to the spotlights above.

“You’re doing it again,” Jimin replied, finding a smile on his face.

“Doing what?”

“Flattering me.”

For a few seconds, nothing happens. Time crawls; he isn’t sure if he’s done anything wrong or gone too far.

“Flatter you?”

“It’s either you’re exaggerating or you want something from me. Either way, it’s flattery,” he explains, unlike what he would usually do, which was to shut up and go about his day.

“How old are you again? You’re so formal when you speak.”

You turn your head in time for Jimin to see you don a lazy smile. You get this tone in your voice, you get timid and he guesses that it’s to appear sanguine. Daftly, he ropes himself into believing it, comfortable that at least here,while the speakers are ran through upstairs and the nobodies wreck the space, he can get to know you.

“Twenty-seven.”

“Ah, I see, you’re close to thirty already,” you grinned, gathering your body up, spine reverting upright. Both straps fall, Jimin sees the way your skin glows under the artificial lighting. His insides buzz, alone in this tension.

“Not that old, and I’m not formal,” he muttered, assuming Taehyung’s role in making the kitchen his. There weren’t many things to do, he curses Taehyung for being so diligent. Why did he even like the idea of being alone with you?

“Beg to differ, Ahjussi.I can imagine you driving around father’s minions as they whisper in the back seat. I bet you know Russian! How about a couple of phrases in Chinese? Don’t tell me you’re not fluent by now,” you said, he sees the drink in your hand, the slice of lime floats pathetically near the top. Jimin doesn’t reply because he doesn’t know how.It’s affronting to be met with your perception of him. Nonchalant, you take a long gulp of the clear liquid, the lime hitting your lips.

“How long have you been working here, Min?”

Again, there’s that damn banmalthat sends Jimin’s pulse quickening.

“You know this,” he replied, coming off a little hurt. The rim of the glass is pressed against your chin, your eyes seem genuinely lost as they blink at the floor. He sees your lashes, wet with dew.

“I do?”

Jimin remembers his first day, fumbling with the knot in his tie being too tight. You were with a few friends, young and laughing too loudly that the sound echoed in the high ceilings. He passed by but you didn’t take notice of him at all. The first car was a Mercedes, quietly luxurious and set low near the ground. Your father was gracious and forgave his early mistakes with a slight wave, It’s alright, the traffic is worse on the other side of the bridge anyway. Jimin recalls the shine of your father’s signet ring choking the pinky finger, a family crest engraved in gold. His own father wore shoes till the soles gave up to the sidewalk. Jimin was able to buy him a decent watch when he got his fifth pay check. After taxes, it’s actually the sixth.

“You were on a break from college -”

“Oh no! I leftcollege during that time, couldn’t stand it. Wait… that was three years ago.”

The recognition is stark on your face, Jimin nods.

“We’ve known each other for ages,” you said, swaying a little as you walked an unsure path in the kitchen. You weren’t wearing any shoes and your toenails were painted a cerulean blue. Jimin relaxes against the counter while you finished your drink. He sees the way your throat expands and contracts. It’s not meant to be erotic but it stirs something similar in him all the same.

More silence occurs so he treads towards you, the backs of his thighs cut by the blunt curve of the table as he rests. When you turn, it’s like you were on the verge of laughter but it leaves you, your features ironing out.

“Do you have someone?”

Jimin stares and stares. In the back of his mind is a sunlit garden, the flutter of the breeze and the feeling of peace at the fact that there was nowhere to go. You flick the straps of your top back up, he notes the details of you. The delicate layer of necklaces, the way your fingers are adorned by rings apart from where they should be. The diamond studs by your ears and the divot between your collarbones where the scent of your perfume would be the strongest.

“Almost,” he said.

Your eyebrows shoot up, the subtle tug of your mouth downwards he takes a victory. Taehyung’s laugh is loud, it breaks his trance, causing him to shove his hands into his pockets. There wasn’t much room since the trousers he wore were fitted.

“Was she good to you to at least?” You asked, holding him hostage with your gaze.

Jimin doesn’t know what to say.

“Was she?” You reiterate, hand clenching over the empty glass. The lime slides and knocks against its walls as your smile returns, though he deems it to be more robotic; the kind you give to guests. “good?”

The tension is shared but he waits. Then your features come alive, your hand shoots out to invite him.

“Sit down, Min. C’mere.”

Jimin wished he had consumed something to help alleviate this burning temperature inside. He stands still, sees you take up space on the tufted chair, one of the straps dropping again.

“You’re allowing me to sit?”

“Oh c’mon on, don’t be difficult,” you exclaimed, patting the backrest of the empty seat. Before he could settle however, you flick your hand.

“Actually, wait, get me another refill,” you said, tone clear and authoritative. The obedient part of Jimin’s brain lights up, his ass doesn’t even touch the seat before he’s springing into action.

“What do you want?”

Craning your head, you end up waving vigorously, “anything you can get your hands on.”

Jimin grabs the hefty bottle of champagne, swiftly pouring the golden fizz into a spare flute.

“Have one with me, please!” You exclaimed, stretching out, the skirt falling open to reveal your legs. Jimin ignores you and controls the portion to a level that he’s seen Taehyung serve. You snatch another flute and knocks the one he’s pouring into to the side.

“Can’t - driving later.”

You rolled your eyes, caressing the rim of the thin glass till it sang.

“It’sonedrink, Min. Go on, I bet father won’t even call you, he’s got a deal going on.”

At that, Jimin feels a certain calm go over him. Your eyes sparkle conspiratorially, raising the flute from the stem.

“Let’s toast!”

He laughs a little, weightless in his next action.

“To what?” He asked, lips tingling for that buzz, the prickle of the fruity bubbles bursting in his throat. You inhale deeply, raising the glass higher still.

“Who else? To me.”

Sprawling in his seat, Jimin cocks his head and arches his brow. You seem to take it the wrong way.

“Is that selfish?” You asked, unsure again, scratching a spot on your forehead that didn’t need attending to. “I mean, it is my birthday. Someoneshould at least toast me even if I have to be the one doing it.”

The air doesn’t crackle this time, instead it becomes listless, as if you were in the stratosphere. You press your lips together, humming as the flute in your hand is held in a weak grip. It comes in flashes, your sadness. Jimin spares you the indignity of begging so he too raised his glass.

“To you.”

Another smile, a grateful one, one that he decides to frame in his mind.

“Thanks.”

After a moment of reluctance, you drink together. Interestingly, the liquid doesn’t scald as he had hoped. What does is the way your stare holds him, irises blown out, skin dewy as your breath mists the inside of the glass. You think everything is easy, I want to know how that feels, his mind blares.

Conversations are louder now, which makes him spring up from his position, the bottom of the flute crashing on the surface of the table. He wipes his mouth with a rough drag of his hand, focusing on the matter at present. Unbothered, you finished your drink.

“Those people up there? They’re not who they claim to be, you know,” he said.

It’s a curse that he has, he can’t help himself. If his family had enough money orif he was smart enough to knock all out all the competitors for a scholarship, he would have been a prosecutor. An interlocutor telling people what’s right or wrong. But, like all dreams that come to pass, he keeps it and calls it part of his character.

The flute in your hand lowers to a muted clink.

“What are you talking about?”

Stopping himself from laughing at the ridiculousness of your inquiry, he gestures vaguely to the entryway.

“Did you not see how they look at you? Don’t you hear what they say when they think you aren’t listening?”

You tuck your hair behind your ear but he sees it, he sees the way your fingertips tremble.

“What were they saying?” You asked, your tone light, like you were merely asking for directions.

It’s easy to accept that the world is flawed but breaking that news to others is often the harder task, his father said once.

“C’mon, tell me,” you urged, blinking rapidly. The dew on your eyelashes might as well have been tears. Jimin bites his lip, scratching the back of his neck.

“I don’t want to…”

You cross your legs, tucking yourself inwards, “what? Think you’d hurt me?”

A beat passes, Jimin finds it difficult to counter that fact.

“If you didn’t want that to happen then why bring it up in the first place?”

There’s a certain boldness that Jimin could access here that would otherwise be unavailable to him in other circumstances. He walks towards you.

“Just tell me, Min! Why be such a tease about this,” you said, frustration edging your tone. You slip the strap of your top up brusquely.

“You have to pay more attention when you’re around people or when you’re in a room,” he said, palm up, forearm articulating outwards. You press your knees together, brows pinching in a way that forces a part in your lips too.

“I don’t -” he stops himself for the moment, “youdon’t want people to take advantage of you.”

The movement in your face is incremental as you drink his caution in, it’s like a reluctant administration of medicine. But what happens next makes his hands go all clammy. You lean away from him, fingers loosely webbed on the table.

“What if I don’t mind people… taking advantage of me?”

Jimin casts a look at the gyrating shadows cast on the exposed hallway behind you. Technicolour warnings flash in his mind: where the fuck is Taehyung? Why isn’t his phone lighting up with orders to go to the business district and pick your father up, stat?

“We shouldn’t be alone like this,” he said, fumbling for something to centre himself. The party has gone on for way too long, he wants the shitty techno-pop to make a mess of his eardrums, he wants the smooth texture of a steering wheel in his hands.

“Why?” You asked, leg come out suddenly, the cerulean tips of your toenails touch the back of his hand. You flick your foot at him and he doesn’t resist.

“We shouldn’t be alone,” he emphasises, making a grab for your arm. Your wallet flies out and you give a shrill shriek. The small plastic sleeve of snow slides out and he kicks at it until it slips where it’s unreachable. He’s strong enough to hold you while you thrash in his arms, cursing him loudly.

“Don’t dothat,” he said through gritted teeth, biceps bulging through his shirt as he restrains you.

“Why? Are you worried? Worried that you’d lose your precious gig of driving my father - fuck,just let me go,” you gasped, but your act wanes and you wilt while whinging about things that didn’t matter. Confident that you weren’t going to try anything funny, he does let you go and you stand up, hugging your arms close to yourself. His phone flashes but it’s just another notification from Naver.

“Waiting to be summoned?” You asked, petulant.

Liberal with his silences, Jimin scrolls and scrolls.

“Can’t he order a taxi-service? It’s soboring for you to be at his beck-and-call all the time, he’s so fucking lazy,” you said, vulgar in the image you portray. Jimin smiles, eyes on the surface of his palm. Lines are cut deep on pale-pink skin, some patches are rough and dry though. When he rubs his fingertips together, they sound like fine grains rushing against each other.

“Why are you smiling?” You asked, grinning yourself.

“You really wanna know?”

“Yes,” you said, perching on the table, bare feet on the sticky leather seat.

“Because you’re gullible - naive.”

You don’t even let that simmer, pressing your hand on your forehead, disturbing your smooth skin into corrugated folds.

“Don’t you think I know that already? But I don’t think you’ve used the right words…”

“What’s the right one then?” Jimin asked, looking up at you as you rub your fingers over your collarbone, your free hand whipping your skirt for more access underneath. Jimin follows each tic, each change in movement till it takes root in him. He becomes hyperaware of his pulse, the sweat trickling from the nape of his neck down the inside of his collar. He’s warm in a drunk kind of way, cheeks likely hot to the touch.

“Weird,” you said, wistful. “I feel really weird,” you said, waving your hand in a tight circle rather dramatically. “That’s what I actually am: weird.”

One summer, Jimin remembers seeing you come home in a strop, throwing your belongings against the wall. An hour later, you were laughing over the phone, kicking your feet up in delight, the phone close to your ear as you ate chips. Back then, Taehyung wasn’t there to fill him in but he saw your sport’s equipment going all mouldy at the entrance on his way to the parking lot. That and a dented trophy, its plaque streaked with mud. As he drove out into the roads choking with sleepers behind the wheel, he put two and two together. Your father completed a deal that day.

“What do you mean?” He pries, you turn your attention to a spot in the kitchen, golden accessories glinting as you settled.

“I have this dream. I have it often - like I’m swallowed by something warm. And it’s dark and I can’t move much, but the thing is, it feels really nice? Like it starts off as something comforting… but then I hearsomething, I hear this tiny scratching that escalates…”

Jimin watches you scratch the skin of your thigh, your eyes closed to recall that alcove in your dream. Your lashes spill dew genuine in your terror, your body giving away a rumble of fear that you couldn’t contain.

“And it gets to the point where it’s unbearable, like nails on a chalk board or people banging cutlery on plates, and it gets so bad that I try to scream but the noise overpowers me. It alwaysdoes.”

Enraptured, Jimin clasps his hands together out of concern. Your eyes are still closed, your tone is pained now.

“Then, as if by some miracle, this light arrives, it’s so bright that I try and cover my eyes with my arms, but they’re so so heavy, like I have weights around my wrist, so I haven’t got any choice. And when I scream for help, nothing comes back, and there’s nothing warm on me anymore, all I can feel is this hot flash of heat, this clash of sound and - ”

There was a pause in which the music from the upper floors inject the silence. Jimin knuckles strain due to how hard he was clenching his fists.

“And when I woke up once, I found a feather in my mouth,” you said, laughing. “Must have come from those boa scarves I had hanging off my headboard. Told Tae to throw it away but I guess he forgot.”

You open your eyes, Jimin finally sees that they appear bloodshot and tired. He didn’t realise that he was holding his breath until you muster a wry smile, the cracked fissures in your lips shine wetly from your saliva.

“Have you ever had dreams like that?”

Immediately, he shakes his head, “not like that but I mostly dream that I’m moving.”

Supposing that you were grateful for the break, you lean close and observe him with your shimmering complexion, “how do you mean?”

Sleeping isn’t insurmountable for Jimin; he could do it anywhere. Once, during the days when he used to halve his time between the southern regions, he slept fetal position in a ferry station till the morning because he was late for the last boat. It’s not often that he dreams but when he does, it’s in motion. Running or walking. Like he knows he’s going somewhere but he wakes before knowing wherehe should end up. A fucking nightmare if you asked him to label it. Rubbing his hands together, he swelters under your gaze. The dry sting he feels after every blink signals that he’s more tired than he thinks.

“It’s always like this: I’m either running or walking,going in one direction but it never ends. Like this treadmill, the path disappears under my feet but it’s infinite. I reach out my hands, I try and grab something real - in fact,” he said, getting lost in the narration, gesticulating as if he was building a diorama for you. “Every single time I thinkI have it, like I can taste, smell, and feelit, there’s…nothing.”

Even awake, he couldn’t hold on to it.

“But what is it? What are you trying to get at?” You asked, eyes wide in your search for him. You run your finger along your lip, pushing the pliant skin till your bottom teeth and gum peeked through.

Jimin shrugs, lightly punching his knuckles together, “dunno.”

Jolted, you set your glass down, shaking your limbs, fingers waggling to spur some life in them, “we shouldn’t be talking about this, we’re not even asleep!” Hopping off the table, you clear the space between the table and the small entryway meant to lead up to the roof. “C’mon and watch the sun come up with me.”

There’s a small glass meant for port wine nearby and Jimin tries to stop you from leaping towards it. In his haste, his hand knocks a flute outwards flat on the table till it shatters. Blood drips from his forefinger, vermillion at first, then a deep wine-dark that trickle on the shard. Turns out that you missed the small glass and patter back to him, your gentle hands guiding his arm up, his finger draining a red vein down into the wrist of his shirt.

“You’re bleeding,” you murmured, the heady scent of bergamot descends on him in a mist.

Jimin’s head goes all fuzzy, he’s never been this close to you that he could see finer details on your face, the way your make up kind of looks like second skin, your necklaces are tangled, one pendant is actually a pair of wings. He lets you guide him so that he’s sitting down again, his finger throbs as more blood leaks; he doesn’t dare look.

Then, you lift his hand and it hovers near your lips, his eyes widen as you slip it in your mouth. It feels strange,the slow suck of your lips, your tongue shaping itself so that it forms a ditch in which his finger rests upon. He feels every bump of your tastebuds whereas you’re probably tasting copper. The blood drains and drains and you hold his gaze, the hollows of your cheeks are prominent. You’re not gripping his hand particularly hard yet he shivers as you push his finger out, the digit coated in your spit, your breath fans his palm and he feels something stir between his thighs, he hears a snag of breath that’s actually his.

Your name comes out in a tortured whisper, he watches you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth, the barest pressure on it seems so enticing to admire.

“Stop fucking with me,” he said, his voice hoarse. You narrow your eyes, fickle in your plans.

“I’m not fucking with you.”

A heavy feeling constricts Jimin’s chest, like his heart is too big for his ribcage. He says your name again, stern,“I mean it.”

You were waiting, doe-eyed and jacked-up, it didn’t matter to him the he may have looked like your next high. He almost does it in a lunge, a split second decision to plant his lips on yours in an open-mouthed admission.

The door slams open because Taehyung bounds in, Jimin prises himself away from you, frantically searching for that goddamn dust pan and brush. The handle juts out near the trash can and he makes a grab for it while you nervously pace around.

“Tae!”

“Everything good?” Taehyung asked, elongated eyes flitting between you and Jimin.

“Yeah,” you replied, another flute in your hand. “I’m sorry that the party’s not over yet,” you add belatedly.

“It’s okay, as long as you’re having a good time,” Taehyung said.

“Mhm, I had fun - am having fun.”

Jimin swipes the crumbs onto the odd angle of the dust pan, tapping it into the designated trash.

“Well, if I’m not needed here, I’m heading home for tonight, that okay?”

It’s not apparent to Jimin straightaway that his hands hand had stopped brushing unnecessary debris into the trash. In his peripheries, he sees Taehyung unhook his jacket, a green bomber that Jimin got him during a trip together in Ulsan. The patches were basically ripped off owing to its cheap manufacturing but Taehyung loves it. Jimin constantly said, It looks vintage, right out of some over-priced thrift store. You’ll fit right in if you ever decide to walk along Garosu-gil.

“Yeah, sure! Thanks so much for staying and helping out Tae,” you said, your voice farther away. Taehyung leaves, waving at Jimin at the same time, “drive safe, kay?”

Jimin nods. The music makes its way back into the kitchen again, he clenches his jaw at the sound of another mashup ruining his sacred memories of eighties synth-pop. The lights dim because you pressed something on your phone, you hum inordinately, twirling in a way that balloons your skirt once more.

“I’m gonna tell the rest hanging around to leave,” he announced.

“You’re gonna tell my friends to leave? Why?”

Getting up and running his hands under the faucet, Jimin finds that the chill helps ground him a little, his wound gradually closing up. Music comes through the speakers in the kitchen, the honey vocals of some current ballad singer acts a salve for his nerves. The lyrics are familiar, aided by the timber in the singer’s voice.

“I can’t leave you with them around, you should head to bed.”

Flicking off the faucet, the trail of blood stained water drains into the metal holes. Warmth follows you wherever you go and he feels it near, even through his shirt.

“You’re not here to look after me.”

Water dulls the shine of stainless steel.

“Then don’t act like you need looking after.”

Bloodshot eyes and a wry smile, they’re the same even in the muted light. Jimin doesn’t like this but he’d rather be the one seeing it that those nobodies. He thinks largely about absence, the immensity of it all.

“Do you want him to come home and see you like this? I don’t think you should keep -”

Lambasted, you pull away with a scowl, “don’t you think that his ‘deal’ has turned into something a little more informal? I know my father, he’s a closer. He should have been here hours ago. Maybe he’s holed up in that studio apartment in Hannam right now.”

You watch him with a kind of strength befitting someone unlike what he expects of you. The apartment was newly refurbished, he went there a couple of days ago because he was instructed to drive someone other than you or your father. She was lovely, demure, and young. Still, he doesn’t entertain your suspicion, he decides that it’s not in his place to do so. But you pry and when you do, it’s an ache poorly disguised as venom.

“What? You think I’m clueless about that place?”

This was a time when Jimin would pray for a notification from Naver, he’ll take anything. A dating scandal centring on some poor idol and a model, a secret affair between co-stars, the discovery of a slush-fund from an esteemed politician. But it’s a miracle distraction that isn’t so easily granted, so he fishes his phone out to scroll and scroll.

“He’s not a bad person,” he murmurs, balking from the weight of your stare.

“Sorry?”

“I said that he’s not a bad person,” he said, pocketing his phone. There was nothing interesting apart from an upcoming holiday involving Peppero’s. You cross your arms, making the glittery top contract from the tightness.

“Doesn’t that depend on what you define as ‘bad’? Sounds like your definition is a little… wide.”

Sure, Jimin has seen things and then some in the years that he’s worked for your father. Everyone is looking for a type of love that fits them. Until that happens, you’re reaching for people that feel like home but really aren’t worth a dime. He gets it because it happens. Instead, he says:

“He works a lot. He works hard all the time.”

You snort, ramping up the music as an obnoxious display, “at least he’s getting some. If he’s gonna bail on me on my birthday, he might as well be having his cake and eat it. The poor girl must be suffering though: two-hundred thread count isn’t really Egyptian cotton, is it? I saw the receipt from Lotte World. He’s so fucking stingy.”

Steps interrupt the flow of the ballad, Jimin cocks his head to hear swearing and merriment.

“There must be another party happening,” you said, lowering the volume to a hush.

“What? Right now?”

“Yeah. The others were talking about another one near Itaewon, a friend of a friend is hosting it.”

Jimin hadn’t heard a single name uttered to address those nobodies. Guess he was right.

“Some friends they are,” he said bitterly.

“Look - I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about them that way. You’re not supposed to be here anyway, you don’t work for me tonight. You should be waiting in a car, waiting for my father to ask you to drive him back here so he could see how much of a good time I’m having.”

He says nothing because that’s implicit in the words you said. Then, as if you weren’t used to it, as if you weren’tborn looking down on people as you speak, you retreat, trying to bury your sentences in makeshift quicksand.

“Min, I’m sorry - I didn’t - I didn’t mean what I said just now.”

The thing is, there was a lot that you said just now. Having had enough for the night, he turns on his heel, a headache simmering beneath the skin of his temples. To acknowledge your apology was to bring light to the truth.

“Min - wait.”

It’s not about you being superior that he considers it. More of the fact that there’s a part of you lodged in his rib, there from the moment he saw you, bathed in the glow of the afternoon sun that day. He stops.

“Have you ever had your heart broken?”

Jimin thinks he has.

He thinks that he’s been walking around with his heart cleaved in two all this time.

“Ever had someone leave you like doing that was nothing to them? Ever lose someone you loved so desperately that it knocks the wind out of your lungs?”

You sound wounded. He thinks back to the parking lot, to images of smeared mascara and a runny nose. The unifying and shameful gaze of the downtrodden in the face of rejection. You’re getting too personal and he doesn’t know where to place himself. He wishes Taehyung was here to diffuse the situation. He hears you scoff.

“Didn’t think so.”

“Why would you ask me that?”

Allowing himself to look, he is met with the sight of you wringing your hands together.

“‘Cause you come off as a happy person.”

Another perception of himself that he fails to register. Jimin feels restless not happy. If there was an hourglass meant to represent his time on earth, the grains are falling at a faster speed than normal. He wonders what kind of person you see in him, what his touch means to you altogether.

“Yeah… well, you know, as happy as one can get nowadays,” you said in the face of his silence.

The buzz of his phone breaks his thoughts, if any. He brings it up to his face, Naver shoots out a frosted rectangle that states gas prices are to hike up starting next month.

“I don’t see how that’s got anything to do with anything.”

Just as he pockets his phone, you draw closer, there’s more mirth in your scent than anything. Your hand finds his arm, fingers tightening over fabric, over muscle, over his pulse.

“Tell me it’ll be okay. Tell me that I’ll feel better.”

As if in a trance, he parrots your plea, “you’ll be okay. You’ll feel better.”

Perhaps he needed to hear it too.

Then there’s that distance again, as wide as a gulf. You worry the waistband of your skirt, twisting it inwards. Frantic, you speed to the counter, pour another drink into a spare glass, there are no limes this time. Jimin presses his palms of the hard table, no matter how much force he puts, it barely shudders.

“It’ll pass.”

And when you look at him there’s a sense of finality in your fear, he couldn’t quite place it. An emotion that looked like a nobody; a faceless being in the ether. He thinks he’s known it before, that fleeting kiss of loneliness, as striking and black ice on a clear, November day.

“How do you know that? You can’t possibly know that, you can’t -”

You’re cradling the glass close as if it’s something precious. Jimin takes a step forward, waits for a beat before letting it out.

“I know what you felt, I’ve experienced it before.”

You don’t drink anything, setting the glass down in a loud clink.

“What have you felt?”

Jimin doesn’t hesitate this time, meeting you in the eye.

“Love.”

You wipe your nose roughly, the dew in your lashes touches the skin under your eyes as you blink.

“You?”

He crosses his arms, “is that something that surprises you?”

You shake your head, “it’s not that. It’s just… you don’t seem like the type of person who gives anything away.”

He retreats.

“It’s not like you know me.”

Sensing something wrong afoot, you approach him in slow steps, “that’s why I said ‘seem’.” You sit back down on a chair, luxuriating on the tough leather, the strap slinking down again. The curve on your shoulder where your bones connect under skin reflect fragments of glitter brushed over it. “Who was she?”

Jimin turns and observes his shadow along the wall, he sees the sunlit garden, remembers being cocooned in the pocket of a second where he could stop doing anything and there were no consequences awaiting him. In his rumination, nothing had changed in his surroundings, the kitchen is still the same, your disposition is buttery and he feels like mush. Being sapped from energy makes him like that: docile. He looks at you knowing that his face is impassive, if not irritated. It’s a fine line to balance.

“Well fine, if you don’t want to -”

“You.”

As if scalded, you rise from your seat and step back. The glass makes its way into the cradle of your hand, the liquid is clear but potent. He knows because his temple throbs on reflex. Restless, you float back to the seat, the gulf between you constricts, holding tension.

“When?”

Jimin digs his hands in his pockets, the left grasping the cool metal of his phone, the right clenching into a fist. You’ve done it now, he thinks.

“Min, when did you feel like that?”

There’s only time now, in this kitchen. Time he doesn’t want to waste.

“I had been working for your father for a couple of weeks and I’d never been invited up before, but he said it’ll be a while till he had to leave again. That wasn’t normal, I usually hang around the driver’s quarters but I found myself at the foot of the spiral steps that led to the roof.”

Sunlit garden.

Fractals of light bouncing off you, the light breeze animating the leaves. It was so bright that he had to shield his eyes.

You in the middle, divine like it was your birthright.

“And I knew your father could see me staring and I expected him to tell me to go back downstairs but he waved me away right as he answered the phone. I walked up and… it was so bright that afternoon, the garden was paradise. I’d never seen anything like it in my life.”

You wear a fond smile in front of him and he joins in, held together by a shared memory. He doesn’t tell you that before the calm that settled over him there was the feeling of strangeness, like he walked in on something private. It was the fact that you were so still, like a mannequin, back turned away from him, staring at a point in the horizon that only you could see. Your face was titled upwards, kissed softly by the rays of sun.

“The garden is pretty in the summer,” you said. Jimin bites his lip to gather himself.

“I saw you before anything else actually. The sunlight touching your face, you were…”

“What? I was what?” You asked, blinking slowly, the glass far away from your lips. It’s followed by that half smile that Jimin mirrors.

“I’d never seen anyone appear so… right. Like nothing was out of place, like nothing could touch you in that moment.”

He sees a slight shiver course through you as you inhaled through your mouth. More rapidly this time, you blink and your eyelashes come away wet, there’s a tremor in your chin that he picks up even though you tried to conceal it in a watery smile.

“When did you say this was again, Min?”

“I told you - a couple of weeks after I was employed.”

Your hand clasps your chin, brows scrunching in an effort to see what he saw, “I can’t remember what I was doing up there, maybe I was -”

Jimin recalls paper scattered in a semi-circle decorated by the fluorescent green squares of Post-it notes.

“There was a lot of paper with you.”

“Ah, I was writing…” you said, filling up the puzzle pieces he’d been missing all this time. “At least I was tryingto write. Why didn’t you come to me and say hi? You could have introduced yourself.”

Jimin shakes his head, fidgeting again, “I felt like I was intruding. Besides, I didn’t want to disturb whatever you were doing.”

You were writing amidst the stillness of the moment.

“Intruding? I wouldn’t have thought so, especially not during that time.”

He wanted to say something but stops himself. He stays in the silence again since he knows that there was a rapid changeover in staff of which he was a part of during that time. Your father said something about needing a fresh start; he understands that there’s more to it, heard snippets of conversations while he drove along the length of the Han. He stops there though, too afraid to ask or know.

Laughter crashes through the space, there was no longer any techno-pop music. Footsteps grow close, your name becomes interlaced in the eruption of noise, they must be coming from the pool, Jimin guessed. They call for you in synchronised squawks.

“Shit, hide!”

Jimin recoils,“why? I’ll just tell them to leave. Wait here.”

“No, I don’t want them to find me, just come and hide with me.”

Whenever he looks at you, he doesn’t feel fastened to reality. And when you touch him, it gets infinitesimally more intense. You grab at him, your grip firm on his bicep. Bergamot and mirth is what he wears tonight along with his wrinkled suit.

“Please -”

It happens when you pull and he pushes.

The kiss is warm, wet, and everything he’s ever allowed himself to dream of.

He tastes the tang of limes and the sweet, glacé cherries from the cocktails you’ve drunk. Then he comes to know something else. Something that ignites heat in his body, maybe it was the small sounds that you made, the tiny gasps and whimpers as he presses himself, crushing the space, your back meeting the wall in a muffled thump.

Whatever it was, it’s full of ardour spurred by his own greed.

His hands come down, feeling the different textures: skin, fabric, then skin.

You moaned in his mouth and sounded so right,his heart leaps, scrabbling fingertips finding your heat. The narrow entryway is dark and you bump along it like a pinball without force. The way his name sounds, full and long in a breathy gasp: Jimin.

Maybe it’s because he may have blurred fascination with love that it feels good.

The faceless nobody that encroaches on you both disappears into its ether for the moment.

You reach a spare room, the decoration matching the modern interior of the rest of the house. It’s quiet and private, an island off the vast continent that is your home.

There’s a moment before it all sets off. The kind that people coined as the point beforethe point of no return. Jimin looks down at you, panting, straps pooling down your arms, heavy golden skirt splayed on the sheets. So much skin is still covered, waiting for him to explore, to taste.The distance was the final gulf that begged to be surmounted. He asks but it’s gentle, he didn’t want to crowd you.

You speak so softly that it almost gets lost in the roar of his heartbeat.

“Yes.”

previous. / next.

masterlist (I)|masterlist (II)

Fool’s Gold. | I. | Park Jimin, 4.2k

Pairing:Reader x Jimin

Summary:There’s a party that roars in Gangnam. It’s your birthday and Jimin looks on, wondering why things are the way they are.

Warnings/Tags: RATED T for language; references to alcohol; a badbreakup; vmin being best friends; Taehyung is v soft here; Jimin’s a chauffeur (yes, I know lmao); the reader isn’t having a very good time at all; starts off a little bleak, then carries on in the same tune; it’s all about those simmering feelings imho; references to shitty techno-pop music; there’s cake though!; angst; non-idol!AU.

=====

-

The penthouse in Gangnam pulses with strobe lights on its uppermost floor. Jimin thinks that the bright shock of colours in the several row of windows would make an unusually artificial break in the inky sky. He watches the party from a secluded corner, mostly in the shadows. The glass in his hand was already sweating, the surface of the drink vibrating along with the jarring techno-pop flooding from the speakers.

In the centre, you’re dancing with a bunch of nobodies, writhing under the host of colours that flashed on the planes of your face. You had his stupid smile on to compliment that hazy look in your eye while you draped yourself onto the next available person. Together, you whirl in this dance that he likens to chaos. The skirt you wore was long and gold, the slit at the side allowing for generous access to the bare skin of your leg. Your top was really just a strip of glittery fabric across your chest, secured by equally flimsy straps.

Jimin frowns.

Another person - likely a stranger from the long list of nobodies on your contact list - decides to make you drink something. You come away with an even stupider smile, lurid in the way the corners of your mouth flick up.

“You’ll stick out like a sore thumb if you don’t at least move ‘Chim,” Taehyung said, near enough to register.

Setting his drink on a space, Jimin cards his hand through his hair. The suit he wore despite being cotton was rough on his skin, his collar a little too tight.

“I have to leave in a while anyway,” he replied, low enough to make it seem like he was talking to himself. Taehyung sighs, moving along with the crowd, picking up more drinks than what he was setting down. Jimin looks on till he disappears, entering another door.

The music changes, a mash-up of a track from the nineties and something abhorrent. But you were enjoying it, jumping on your feet, arms to the sky, head lolling in a slow roll. The smile stays plastered on your face, and while he was too far away to know for sure, your pupils are blown wide, afflicted by a self-administered elixir meant to last the beyond this night. A glance at his watch showed that he had time to spare before heading down the basement. There was no use in drinking if his job involved him being behind the wheel.

Taehyung appears again, this time hooking his arm through his and he lets himself get dragged along backwards, his attention on you never wavering. The last thing he sees before the wall divides the scene was your arm slinging over someones neck, the sliver of your tongue on their skin. You’ve always sought pleasure but tonight he thinks there’s a harder edge to it. Heat coils in the pit of his stomach, he gets a hold of himself and shrugs off Taehyung, who only rolls his eyes.

“There’s some cake downstairs.”

On the way out, your eyes meet but he isn’t so sure if you recognised him through the haze.

-

As always, Jimin sees Taehyung being busy. The party rages throughout the floors, shaking the foundations of the apartment. Jimin observes him slide numerous cakes out from their flimsy boxes. Aligned neatly, he reads the usual birthday greetings in careful cursive, the icing is consistent, lacking any bubbles. Most of the ones laid out were framed with decorative additions, some having a red border or edible wreathes. Jimin thinks it all looks florid against the obsidian surface of the kitchen counter.

“She’s acting so wild tonight,” he said, grabbing a few abandoned glasses and lowering them into the sink.

Taehyung yanks the door of the dishwasher, grimacing at the moist steam that breathes onto his face. Jimin hands him a couple of plates waiting nearby. Taehyung takes them wordlessly, stacking them on the meshed tray, the sleeves of his white shirt are wrinkled as they nestle on the crook of his elbow. Jimin checks his watch and takes out his phone.

“Still nothing yet?” Taehyung asked, resurfacing with his cheeks a little rosy from the effort.

Jimin shakes his head, dragging a smaller cake towards him. In mint green lettering, it read ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING, HAVE A GOOD ONE.’ He dips his finger right in the middle, scooping a sizeable dollop and licking it right after. Taehyung shakes his head but makes no move to stop him.

“He should really have been here, it’s been hours,” Taehyung said.

“He’s busy, it’s not like he can leave at the drop of the hat,” Jimin muttered, his temples ringing suddenly.

The kitchen was all black marble and grey accents but he sought the plush interior of a car, the muted lights embedded on the dashboard. Taehyung scrapes his nail at the border of the cake, taking the mint green frosting with it. He sucks on his finger, his brows creasing subtly.

“He could have at least been here for the toast thenleft, she would have appreciated that -”

Jimin takes another dip with his finger, sullying the letters until it read ‘PPY BIRTHD DAR.’ The frosting melts on his tongue, the mint is barely noticeable. It was like eating mild fluoride meant for kids.

“The deals take a while. Besides, he’s working with unfamiliar clients - that doubles the time needed to complete everything,” Jimin replied, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Really? That’s the best you can come up with for him?” Taehyung challenged, his tone dry. Jimin remains unfairly level-headed and practical, he gives a dismissive shrug and wanders around the space, fingers trailing over the chrome handles of the drawers.

“She doesn’t need her father to breathe down her shoulder all the time and she seems like she’s having a good time anyway.”

Not too far off, there was a clear sound of door slamming and unapologetic laughter. Jimin’s frown returns as he hears a few ‘hoots’ and clapping. He assumes that the door stays propped open as more of that fucking techno-pop drivel intrudes the kitchen.

“I don’t think that’s the case,” Taehyung argues. Jimin’s jaw clenches, he’s in half a mind to stride over to the upper floors and seal the clamour shut.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think she’s having a good time at all,” Taehyung supplied, busy again with unloading a separate dishwasher. The steam doesn’t bother him this time, his hands are efficient and deploys several plates and glasses in quick succession. Jimin disagrees.

“She was dancing all over the place, with that - that man, the one who’s always around her.”

Taehyung’s brows shoot up so much that they disappear under his bangs.

“You mean the DJ? They’re friends, he offered to do this gig for free.”

Ignoring the rational explanation, Jimin crosses his arms tightly over his chest, “the music isn’t worth a single won anyway.”

At that, Taehyung laughed.

“She was dragging him around and he was pushing her off at some point,” Jimin started again, blinking at the memory of you being passed around because you couldn’t stand by yourself for a couple of minutes while disinhibited. He lets his gaze travel down to his shoes, pristine with barely any creases. “It’s embarrassing to watch,” he finished. When he looks up, Taehyung scoffed, slamming the dishwasher shut. But Jimin wasn’t done, tailing his friend to drive his point home.

“You know earlier, when she saw me, she tried to get me to dance with her, then…” he paused, gathering the fragments of the moment in his mind. Your unnaturally strong grip on his wrist as you dragged him into the belly of the crowd, eyes bright and smile wide. Your touch was clammy over his, nails cutting an impression for the few seconds he couldn’t control himself. “I’ve never seen her get thisbad.”

It was Taehyung’s turn to ignore him, getting up to swipe more kitchenware into the sink.

“How many guests are left?”

Jimin shrugs but he had taken a mental note of the people hanging around, “dunno, like fifteen or twenty?”

The sound of your voice pierces the silence in the conversation. It was a loud cheer, a vague plea to keep the music on. And so, the bass thumps the speakers and trickles into the sanctuary of the kitchen. Jimin sighed deeply.

“She’s always been… vibrant, you know? But this year… it’s been tough for her,” Taehyung said, relentless in the way he was wiping down the countertop.

Jimin thinks that Taehyung should have gone to college, been somebody.Not someone who lives with his tail between his legs, picking up after you and bending over backwards to tend to your every whim. Jimin knew he was stuck, caught between the world and an even harder place. He doesn’t like thinking it but it’s there: Taehyung’s too soft for reality.

“Tough?” He inquired, curious as to what could possibly lead you this much astray.

“Yeah - the whole thing hit her harder than what she’s showing us - them,” Taehyung replied.

Jimin puffed out a big breath, turning so that he could have another morsel of cake. He messes with the surface so much that what’s left after his conquest was ‘AVE A GOOD O.’ His fingers come away from his mouth shiny and dries tackily.

“I thought that Jeon kid proposed to her last month.”

Taehyung shrugs, tilting his head so that his hair didn’t get in the way, “no idea.”

A crash resounds in the space, more laughter, the music pounds, pounds, and pounds.Neither make a move to check, that was beyond the scope of what they’re asked for within these walls.

“She doesn’t seem sad, not to me,” Jimin countered, flashes of your stupid smile wrecks through his mind. You almost seemed insultingly happy these days.

“I think that she’s ashamed, ‘Chim.”

Jimin sighed forcefully, laughing to himself.

“That’s a bullshit if I ever heard any.”

Taehyung shoves a couple of cakes so that they’re crowded together, the base cardboards in scalloped trim touch at the sides.

“Of course you don’t believe it.”

Jimin’s mouth twists a little, unsure if Taehyung is privy to what he knows. Thinking about his wording, he throws caution to the wind anyway. Gossiping about employers was nothing new and gossiping about theiremployers has always resulted in more intrigue than answers. It’s like being trapped in a permeant illusion: he thinks that he knows you but you’re just an apparition in the end.

“I saw it. I saw what happened between them,” he said. Taehyung’s eyes widen slightly then narrowed.

“Why play around it then? And why not believe that she’s ashamed after what you saw?”

“How do you know that it went badly?” Jimin asked, “‘sides, I don’t think I was meant to see any of it.”

Taehyung sighed, parting his lips so that Jimin saw him rest the tip of his tongue on the smooth interior of his mouth.

“I pick up after her, I clean where she works, sleeps, and hangs out. She cries when she thinks that no one else is looking. C’mon, tell me ‘Chim.”

It was an ordinary evening, Jimin was meant to pick up your father but got shuttled off to drive you instead. Everything was fine up until you reached the basement parking lot. He had parked the car at a safe enough distance. What he saw was a kind of bloated anger that serrated through you. It was memorable only because it ended unexpectedly. He couldn’t forget the sight of you on your knees, a snivelling heap, fingers clutching at the sleeve of the heir to the Jeon Group. He had to look away, counting the threads on the leather interior until it reached thirty before you were impatiently yanking at the door handle to the passenger seat. Mascara streaked down your cheeks, you sniffed more times than you spoke.

The fucking bastard didn’t even spare a single glance, shooting off in his expensive white Lamborghini before you could even buckle your seatbelt.

“That Jeon kid broke it off. Was an asshole about it too, to the point where she was begging for him to take her back.”

Jimin edited the scene into a couple of sparse words as Taehyung couldn’t wait for him to begin, arranging a couple of the bouquets delivered earlier in a presentable row. Though Jimin preferred if people were doing something while he was speaking, takes the pressure of getting his words right.

“Fuck - really?” Taehyung asked, stopping his fidgety fingers from doing anymore, “I feel sorry her. Where was it?”

Jimin thinks that it doesn’t matter. The emotions were the same. He remembers you being unable to look at him in the eye on the drive back, you were so flustered that you sat in the front rather than the back. He wished that the tremor in your hands were from his imagination but everything was so clear that night, shame dripping over you like a heavy oil spill, coating your wings stiff.

“Seoul Tower. In the parking lot.”

“And you still think that she’s not ashamed?” Taehyung asked, leaning on the counter and resting his pruned fingers on the cool marble. Jimin noticed that the most of the dishes by the sink were now drying.

“I only said that because if she wasashamed, she wouldn’t have gotten on her knees and begged. That’s the whole point of it: shame doesn’t let you do things like that.”

Silence settles like a heavy force over them. Jimin wished he hadn’t said it but it’s out there now. He makes his way to the discrete wine rack, tugging the door open and taking out a bottle of Pétrus. The year is printed at 1921. Taehyung tried to lunge forward but Jimin is agile and spins away, smiling for what he thinks is the first time tonight.

“No! ‘Chim, stop -”

Fortunately, the kitchen is large enough for them to start this sparring. Jimin cradles the bottle close, fingers blindly searching for an opener and Taehyung creeps forward, not a real threat.

“Her father would notice, give.”

The tanned hand that beckons him shows long, well-kept nails. Jimin snatches the opener and begins to slice the sealed foil open, “he won’t, c’mon Tae. Just a sip.”

“He’llnotice,” Taehyung echoes, eyes zeroing on how the coiled spring pierces the spongy cork. “Do you know how much that bottle costs? Of course he’ll notice, you ass.”

Jimin works to ease it up and high until it emit a muted pop.A deep maroon waterfall trickles straight into a wine glass, the delicate stem slotting so easily in his hand. He tastes it in a brief sip, sour at first then it morphs into a richer aftertaste. Hm, so this is what money tastes like nowadays.

“If I do end up driving tonight, I’m allowed one drink. And if I’m having a drink, I want it to be good, carpe diem you know?”

Vehemently unconvinced, and it shows in the way Taehyung handles the dishwasher with a little more deliberation, he walks away muttering, “you’re fucking crazy. That’s not coming out of mypay.”

As Jimin was about to pipe in, he hears you louder and nearer.

“I’ll be back, oh no, don’t worry, yeah… Just stay there!”

Meek, he hides the bottle and glass in a deep drawer and stands up, smoothing down his front. Taehyung ducks away, pretending to arrange the stacked plates, wiping down the counter in frantic motions using a frayed towel.

Then, you enter the kitchen, bounding down the steps, the hem of your skirt fluttering behind. Jimin sees the crown of flowers on your head immediately, but you take it off, passing him by. Cool air laced with bergamot mixed with mirth greets him. The canary coloured petals are wilted but are vibrant all the same. You stop by a box of ornate flowers springing from a box. Jimin had to bring that up earlier, it was heavier than it looked.

“Let me guess,” you said, “straight from the office?”

Finally, you notice him. Your eyes met and yours shine like glass, the smile he saw earlier is there but more contrived, like you walked into their space without permission. Taehyung makes a sound meant to signify a ‘yes.’ Whirling till your skirt expands like a golden umbrella, you pluck a rose from the collection. Jimin doesn’t miss the way your animated movement reveals your legs altogether. He shamelessly drinks that sight in, aching for smooth skin beneath his touch. He sees you sniff the centre, eyes concealed as your head tilts up.

“Smells like…”

You slide up on the counter, sitting with your legs crossing over the other. The skirt falls away, bare leg entering his view as the glittery strap of your top slides down past your shoulder. You appeared ravaged, then. He hates that others could see you like this.

“It smells like my father’s guilt,” you said, abruptly thrusting it to Taehyung’s direction.

“Have them Tae!” You said, grinning once more, swinging your legs. Jimin clears his throat, pacing up the length of the kitchen, praying that by the time he reached the end, you’d gone.

“It’s really okay,” Taehyung said, that voice of submission was back. Jimin doesn’t think that Taehyung could tell you to keep your hands off anything or to not open that bottle of wine now in a random drawer, aerating.

“Have them, please!” You replied, not missing a beat. Jimin hears Taehyung’s nervous chuckle, he glances back and you’re shuffling the box, possibly ruining the arrangement. “Don’t you have a sister? Or these could be for your mother! I’m sure she’ll love these, please Tae.”

The music encroaches into the kitchen. It’s even worse than before and Jimin wants to strangle the DJ for perpetuating such garish entertainment. Prior to any reaction, he hears you plant your feet on the floor. He turns and is met with your stern expression, hands resting on your hips as Taehyung carts off the box of flowers, out of sight.

“Come with me upstairs,” you said, gesturing with your hands to the said direction. Jimin shakes his head. Fuck techno-pop, fuck these nobodies, and fuck this stupid party.

“Should stay here. Might get called anytime soon,” he replied.

“C’mon Min,” you said, urgency in your tone. Whiny even. Jimin never really consented to that nickname but he’s been around long enough that it stuck.

“How come?” You challenged, arching your brow.

Because I fucking hate the music, I hate the way you’re like this right now, and I hate -

“I want you up there with me, please don’t make me beg. It sounds vain but I want to look…” you trailed off, rubbing your arm with your hand. Under the spotlight, you were awfully forlorn. “I need to look…”

Jimin knits his brows together, his suit alarmingly fitted all of the sudden.

“Look like what?”

Taehyung will be back soon since the walk from his room to the kitchen is a couple of meters, but he’s taking longer than what Jimin is used to. The air crackles as he sees you retreat till you meet the counter with nowhere to go. Your fingers inch towards the abandoned flower crown, your pretty nails carving crescents onto the velvet petal.

“To look like I’m wanted.”

Jimin inhales deeply, unable to conceal his discomfort. He tugs at his tie and threads the top button of his shirt through, breathing shakily. Taehyung comes in and you stand up, your shoulders squaring. That stupid smile returns accompanied by outstretched arms. Jimin finds himself drawn to you, his private guise for protection making his wooden limbs move.

“Don’t look so serious Min. I just want to dance more, it’s my birthday,” you said, slurring at the end. Your touch finds him as you lead him upwards. Jimin doesn’t look back but Taehyung’s stare burned nonetheless.

-

Upstairs, the music rattles Jimin’s frame. You weave through the throngs of people - of nobodies - and find an adequate space, right under the brilliant strobe of red, purple, and blue. He lets himself hold your waist, his own hands at the hem of your skirt, barely touching where it counted. Your arms settle on his neck, comfortable.

He supposed that he was out of place wearing a suit amongst party-goers decked out in the latest styles or fashionable garments. Yet, if people thought him odd, they didn’t show it. He even lets himself move to the beat, no matter how irksome it was.

Besides, he liked your warmth near his. The smell of bergamot and mirth is balmy and woodsy: it suited you.

Always have, he thinks.

There was a moment when he felt like time was suspended, when the strobe light, a luminous violet that made all the other bodies melt into a whorl, fell over you both. No one else was in the room and the music wasn’t as shit as he decided. The highlight on your cheeks made it look like there was glitter embedded in your skin and that smile, it wasn’t stupid anymore, it was radiant.

Warm.

You say something to him but it’s lost in the thump of bass, he laughs anyway, his body loosening up a little more. Again, you start speaking so he leans in, too close for justification. He hears you laugh, it’s a wonderful sound, light and airy, like you had never experienced anything that could possibly weigh you down. Then, you raise your arms up, closing your eyes, a strand of your hair caught at your brow due to the tacky surface of your skin. You move to the rhythm with this glow about you. He blinks, awestruck.

A cord snaps.

The music thumps, corroding everything in its wake and you are engulfed with people, the laughter turns menacing then mean.

The spell breaks and he strides towards a doorway, perturbed.

-

As if he was spat out, Jimin stumbles back into the kitchen alone to find Taehyung unloading the dishwasher again.

“She’s gone crazy,” he announced, skin damp from being trapped between people. He doesn’t know how you stand it, being touched unwarrantedly like that. Taehyung shakes his head, laughing through his nose.

“She’s having fun -”

Jimin grabs the forgotten wine and pours more than he was probably allowed.

“You know that people out there are laughingat her?”

“What?” Taehyung asked, standing and shoving his sleeves up further. Jimin blinks back the memories of you dancing theatrically, garnerning smiles and guffaws that were lost due to the blare of EDM. Jimin caught them though, so he stalked off in a huff.

“Most of those people in there aren’t even her friends. And those who stayed don’t even know her middle name.”

Taehyung leans on the corner of the table, the tilt of his head is pensive, “do youknow her middle name?”

“Of course I do. It’s -”

“You’ve got the balls to abandon me in the middle of the dance floor like that,” you said, entering the kitchen with a champagne flute in hand, “and why are you still dressed like that? What are you, a lawyer? Take off your jacket,” you commanded. Jimin forgets about the wine glass in his hand and promptly brings it down. The dark liquid sloshes before it settles.

“Why?”

In the background, Taehyung slinks away, pretending to clean something.

“It’s my birthday, you’re the spoiling the theme,” you replied, gesturing to your glittery gold outfit. Jimin clenches his jaw, cursing the party inwardly.

“Take it off Min,” you said, hauling yourself up to sit on the counter. His ear pricks up at your use of banmaland stares at you, like blinking would be enough to reverse this implicit imbalance. He tries that thing that Taehyung does, running his tongue first on top of his molars till it encounters the smooth interior of his mouth. Doesn’t work. The air crackles again, along with the goosebumps on his skin. Taehyung catches his eye and he could tell that it meant ‘Just do it for fuck sake.’

Times like these, Jimin gets reminded of things he’d rather leave buried far beneath the surface.

In seconds, he turns on his heel and leaves the kitchen. He hears you ask where he was going but he doesn’t catch Taehyung’s reply.

Past Taehyung’s living quarters was a narrow hallway to the elevator that goes straight to the parking lot. Jimin stops in front of the steel doors, fingers itching to punch the downward arrow. The lack of notifications from his phone was becoming an issue. He slips off his jacket, hanging it on a spare wooden peg and heads back in.

On the kitchen island, he finds you and Taehyung conversing in hushed voices. Your hand curves over his shoulders, your body leaning over his back, the wisps off your hair brushing against his. Taehyung has that goofy expression on his face, the apples of his cheeks flushed pink. Jimin lets his eyes linger.

“See! You look way better without your jacket,” you beamed, leaving Taehyung’s side and sitting on the table this time. The skirt gapes and shows more skin, Jimin’s gotten better at directing his eyes elsewhere. There’s more movement, Taehyung gets up and waves his phone, the screen is lit up and buzzing.

“Gotta answer this,” he announced, and you turn, chin resting on your shoulder mouthing Come back soon.

Taehyung gives you a tight-lipped smile, sauntering into another doorway, his voice soothing as he greets the caller on the other side of the line.

next.

masterlist (I)|masterlist (II)

taestefully-in-luv:

Love Again | PJM (Seven)

Summary: A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

Pairing:Jimin x Female reader

Genre:exes au, exes to ???, fluff, angst, smut

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings:swearing, alcohol consumption, crying lots of crying, is it time to start warning ‘sexual tension (?) any time soon? And umm, I think that’s it

Notes: woooo let’s go. Let’s get this story truly started ;) anyway, I hope you continue to enjoy this story. Love hearing from you guys<3 Send an ask if you want to be added to a tag list or just want to chat:)

Tag list: @yoongimentita7@rjsmochii@aria-grace-scott@ravensading@shrimpmsg@phossmos@ceyoongs@btsis7okay@loljrau@ggukkieland@forever-once-gone@taejoonswifey@awseokjin@telepathytae@ssaltytears@jikooksgirl19@koreanaestheticc@shesoldbutcute@main-bangtansmauyeondan@mawwnsterr@dopedreamfireparty@bri-mal@callmejimmeo@bloopkook@ncizen@natalie-rdr@familiarlikemymirror3@theestrangeddreamer@chimchimmarie@sugas-baby-girl@greezenini@somewhereinthestarss@keiarajm@80sbass@kthstrawberryshortcake-main@heem145@vonvi-blog@minijagiya@nadzzzblog@tannieastrology@emilypark01

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous — Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This shirt. This stupid ass shirt…is really your downfall, huh? It’s a lot of things, for sure. It’s hideous, it’s cheesy and most of all it is cringey as hell. But what you didn’t expect was for it to be a traitor. Exposing you for the things you have kept hidden. Well, there is no hiding now…not when your face and Jimin’s face is plastered everywhere and god, it is bad but you cannot tear your eyes away from it. Still standing here frozen, you gape at the shirt that lays down on your bed.

Keep reading

taestefully-in-luv:

Love Again | PJM (Seven)

Summary: A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

Pairing:Jimin x Female reader

Genre:exes au, exes to ???, fluff, angst, smut

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings:swearing, alcohol consumption, crying lots of crying, is it time to start warning ‘sexual tension (?) any time soon? And umm, I think that’s it

Notes: woooo let’s go. Let’s get this story truly started ;) anyway, I hope you continue to enjoy this story. Love hearing from you guys<3 Send an ask if you want to be added to a tag list or just want to chat:)

Tag list: @yoongimentita7@rjsmochii@aria-grace-scott@ravensading@shrimpmsg@phossmos@ceyoongs@btsis7okay@loljrau@ggukkieland@forever-once-gone@taejoonswifey@awseokjin@telepathytae@ssaltytears@jikooksgirl19@koreanaestheticc@shesoldbutcute@main-bangtansmauyeondan@mawwnsterr@dopedreamfireparty@bri-mal@callmejimmeo@bloopkook@ncizen@natalie-rdr@familiarlikemymirror3@theestrangeddreamer@chimchimmarie@sugas-baby-girl@greezenini@somewhereinthestarss@keiarajm@80sbass@kthstrawberryshortcake-main@heem145@vonvi-blog@minijagiya@nadzzzblog@tannieastrology@emilypark01

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous — Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This shirt. This stupid ass shirt…is really your downfall, huh? It’s a lot of things, for sure. It’s hideous, it’s cheesy and most of all it is cringey as hell. But what you didn’t expect was for it to be a traitor. Exposing you for the things you have kept hidden. Well, there is no hiding now…not when your face and Jimin’s face is plastered everywhere and god, it is bad but you cannot tear your eyes away from it. Still standing here frozen, you gape at the shirt that lays down on your bed.

Keep reading

Map of the Soul Series:

Prologue:Soul

Summary: Sometimes the universe has a personal vendetta against us. Or well… you in this case. You didn’t ask to go on a hunt across the universe to collect your broken pieces of soul, and you certainly didn’t expect to become aquatinted to 7 people (8 times over) along the way, finding a new home with each of them even if each version were so different across the planets in the vast universe.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Destination one of the ‘Map of the Soul’ series

Title: Aliferous

☆Definition:Having wings; winged.

Paring: Jung Hoseok x reader (ft. the tannies)

Genre:puppeteer au || fantasy au || isekai || fluff || angst || strangers to lovers || non-idol au ||

Series summary: Waking up in an unfamiliar world is one hard pill to swallow, being told your time was limited and you had find a piece of your cracked soul was even worse, paired with the fact that the people in Gardenia were convinced you were an angel sent from above to help them with the recent dilemma.

Series masterlist : Coming soon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Destination two of the ‘Map of the Soul’ series

Title: Stellify

ﾟ☆Definition:[transitive verb] to turn into or as if into a star : place among the stars

Pairing:Min Yoongi x reader (ft. the tannies)

Genre:19th century au||jack the ripper au || fantasy au || isekai || fluff || angst || strangers to lovers || non-idol au ||

Series summary: ???

Series masterlist: Coming soon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Desitantion three of the ‘Map of the Soul’ series

Title: Hiraeth

ﾟ☆Definition:[NOUN]: deep longing for something, especially one’s home

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader (ft. the tannies)

Genre:mafia au || fantasy au || isekai || fluff || angst || strangers to lovers || non-idol au ||

Series summary: ???

Series masterlist: Coming soon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Destination four of the ‘Map of the Soul’ series

Title: Thalassophile

ﾟ☆Definition:anyone who loves the sea and the ocean.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (ft. the tannies)

Genre:daechwita au || fantasy au || isekai || fluff || angst || strangers to lovers || non-idol au ||

Series summary: ???

Series masterlist: Coming soon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Destinationfive of the ‘Map of the Soul’ series

Title: Peregrinate

ﾟ☆Definition:[VERB] travel or wander around from place to place.

Pairing: Park Jimin x reader (ft. the tannies)

Genre:hybrid au || fantasy au || isekai || fluff || angst || strangers to lovers || non-idol au ||

Series summary: ???

Series mastlist: Coming soon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Destinationsix of the ‘Map of the Soul’ series

Title: Solandis

ﾟ☆ Definition: a delicate flower

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader (ft. the tannies)

Genre:prince au || fantasy au || isekai || fluff || angst || strangers to lovers || non-idol au ||

Series summary: ???

Series masterlist: Coming soon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Destinationseven of the ‘Map of the Soul’ series

Title: Cosmogyral

ﾟ☆Definition:whirling around the universe.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader (ft. the tannies)

Genre:alien au || fantasy au || isekai || fluff || angst || strangers to lovers || non-idol au ||

Series summary: ???

Series masterlist: Coming Soon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Destinationeight of the ‘Map of the Soul’ series

Title: Serendipity

ﾟ☆Definition: [NOUN] the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

Pairing: OT7 x reader

Genre:idol trainee au || fantasy au || isekai || fluff || angst || strangers to lovers

Series summary: ???

Series masterlist: Coming soon

Map of the Soul series

Prologue: Soul

Pairing: Ot7 x reader

Genre: fantasy au || Isekai || fluff || angst || strangers to lovers ||

Series summary: Sometimes the universe has a personal vendetta against us. Or well.. you in this case. You didn’t ask to go on a hunt across the universe to collect your broken pieces of soul, and you certainly didn’t expect to become acquainted with 7 people (8 times over), finding home with each of them even if each version were so different across the planets in the vast universe.

Prologue word count: 784 words.

tags and warnings: will be added above each chapter.

Notes: this is going to be a long long long project. i’ve had the idea to do this series for years and now that my platform has grown a little (and i’m not a 13 year old whose grammar and writing is iffy) i think i’m ready to finally take on the challenge. each ‘destination’ will have multiple parts so its basically 8 series within the map of the soul series. chapters may be a little shorter than my other series/ writing just so i can keep a schedule and update regularly and its easier than writing 10k every week to two weeks.

my masterlist

map of the soul masterlist||aliferous masterlist ||part one

+++

soul | səʊl | noun 1 the spiritual or immaterial part of a human being or animal, regarded as immortal. • a person’s moral or emotional nature or sense of identity

The soul is one of the many components that make us… ‘us’. You and me alike; one of the fundamental pieces of any living being, be it beast or man. What is a body without a soul? or better yet, a soul without a body?

The simple answer: an empty shell, a ticking time bomb where each second is uncertain. Because the ‘you’ of this world is connected to the souls of the other versions of ‘you’ wherever they may be. And like any good story there is often a flaw in the system. And in each millennium, there is one unlucky person that the dilemma is forced upon. And they’re unaware of it until it’s too late.

The multiverse has never been a concept the people of our world took seriously, their focus on science and the development of technology that has, and will never be able to fully explain the worlds that live beyond us. It’s easy to depict a rough outline of what the multiverse may be like in far-fetched action-packed superhero movies. But they are only partially accurate, the concept of the multiverse lacking because no one in the world has actually met their counterparts. It’s impossible. That’s the universe’s first hidden rule about the soul.

Because souls are tricky things, in the making of a person, one soul is assigned to them, split up like slices of a tangerine and handed off to each of ‘you’ from a different timeline. An invisible string connecting each of you to each other, a way for each of you to never meet, a map being sketched out to pinpoint where each fragment of soul has landed and where exactly it is in the universe.

So, they’re all ‘you’ but each version is slightly different. Because environment has as much of an affect as genetic make-up and the characteristics that are imbedded within your soul. It’s expected that a soul is split and spread across multiple timelines, universes, places, another of the many hidden rules engraved into the universe.

However, every so often a problem occurs. Sometimes there’s only one body, one universe and one timeline, one place with multiple pieces of fragmented soul. When the soul cracks, a slice of that soul is assigned to one body, the other pieces being abandoned across the universe where the other versions of ‘you’ are meant to be but never were. And this poses as a problem, because slowly your body will start to pull the fragmented pieces of soul in, as each piece tries to weave its way into at least one version of you. They were assigned to you for a reason.

Either one of two things happen, the better option is: you are forgotten. With only one version of you, you don’t have your intended impact on your timeline and slowly those that you love and the current world that you’ve grown up in will forget you ever even existed. Slowly your body will start to break down, your reason for living slowly dwindling until the universe decides that you are a waste of space. Your lost pieces of soul slowly start absorbing back into the abyss ready to be regenerated into another being. And so, the only version of ‘you’ will slowly deteriorate. Until you are no more.

The second outcome is the worse of the two. Each fragment will try and pull you into its timeline, to absorb into the only version of you that exists in the world. And having multiple parts of a soul doesn’t pose as a problem, because they have technically achieved their intended purpose in being a part of ‘you’. However, for your fragmented pieces of soul to be absorbed, time warps, something akin to a black hole forming. And as your body is pulled in multiple directions at once, your limbs will be ripped from your body, and ultimately you die an excruciating death where no one knows what happened. You vanish from the face of the earth.

There is a solution to this problem. And more often than not the outcome isn’t favourable. How were you ever meant to know you were the unlucky one, whose soul had been shattered and left to lay stagnant because there is only one ‘you’?

And it seems that you are the unlucky one of this millennia that will face the consequences of the universes mistake.

Hopefully someone has the map of your soul so each of your fragments can be retrieved before you’re either forgotten or ripped to shreds by the universe.

Destination one: map of the soul one: ALIFEROUS

make it three | eleven

⨽ summary: everything made sense to you, until it didn’t. you expected the name of your soulmate to appear on your shoulder the day you turned twenty one. and on the day of your twenty first birthday, that happened, but instead of one name, there were three.

⨽ pairing: vminkook x reader

⨽ genre: fluff , soulmate au , slow burn (?)

⨽ warnings: none

⨽ word count: 1.9k

⨽ a/n: how do you actually play overwatch?

“And we’re here.” Jimin softly sang, looking out the window at their apartment complex. “Can you wake y/n up?" 

Taehyung nodded before gently shaking your body. "Wakey, wakey, y/n.”

“Wake up, princess,” Jungkook whispered, tapping your cheeks. “Hm?” You groaned, opening your eyes. 

‘We’re here, princess. You can sleep more in our place.“ Jimin smiled at you before opening the door once it had parked in the parking garage. 

"We don’t need masks or anything like that?” You asked, rubbing your eyes, and they laughed. “We don’t really need to, but if you want to, take this,” Jungkook put the cap on your head.

“Let’s go. We don’t want anyone to see us or y/n,” Jimin chuckled before hopping out. And you finally got out after him. 

“Hm, we need to fix the cap. Can’t afford to let anyone see you,” Jungkook said, coming out after you. 

“Can I?” He asked. You weren’t sure of what he was asking permission for, but you just nodded, too sleepy to give it thought. 

Jungkook smiled before pulling down the cap and wrapping his arms around you, burying your head in his chest. 

“I’ll let you go once we’re in the elevator, okay?” He whispered while Jimin and Taehyung chuckled. 

’Are they clowning me?’ You thought to yourself. ’Or do we actually have to hide from the public eye?’

“Come on, let’s go in." 

—

"So this is where you guys live?” You asked as the four of you walked through the corridor. “Yup." 

"I’ve passed this building a lot of times. It looks just as good from the inside,” you giggled. “You think? Ah, there’s Minho Hyung!” Taehyung smiled. 

You looked in the direction where Taehyung was pointing. “Is that Minho from Shinee?” Your eyes widened. 

“So you know K-pop idols?” Jimin chuckled. “I know some K-pop idols. I just don’t know a lot,” you huffed. 

“Hyung!” Taehyung called.

“Now we actually have to hide you,” Jungkook said, pulling down the cap and pushing you behind him.

“Ah, Taehyung-ah. How are you?” Minho asked. “Hello to you, too. And the person you’re clearly hiding.”

“Hey,” Jimin bowed. “Uh, we’ll head inside and let the two of you talk.”

Taehyung nodded before turning to his friend. “We live in the same building and on the same floor, but we rarely see each other.”

“I’m guessing it’s because of your busy schedule,” Minho said, flashing him a smile. “Congratulations on your success, Taehyung-ah.”

“Thank you, Hyung. But I think we don’t see each other because of your schedule too. I’m pretty sure you’re just as busy as I am,” he chuckled. 

“Hm, I guess you’re right. You guys are preparing for a comeback, right?” Mingo asked, and Taehyung shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe we are. Maybe we aren’t." 

"Okay. I’ll find out soon,” Minho said, winking at him. Anyway, who was Jungkook hiding?“ Minho asked. 

"Ah, that’s our soulmate.” Taehyung smiled. 

Inside their apartment, you followed Jimin and Jungkook to the living room. 

“Why did you guys hide me from Minho?” You frowned. “Hm, because we don’t want anyone to see yet. Even if it is an idol friend,” Jimin told you, sitting down.

“Is that even a valid excuse? It’s not he’s going to tell the public who I am and what I look like. I wanted to meet him,” you frowned. 

“What’re you? A fan of Shinee? Are you a Shawol? Jungkook asked. "I wouldn’t say I’m a Shawol, but I occasionally listen to their music. It would’ve been nice to speak to him.”

“You can talk to him another time, y/n,” Jimin said.

“Do you know if any other famous idols live here?” You asked. “When did you realise he lived here?’

"Actually, as surprising as it is, many famous people live here. Celebrities, actors, actresses, idols. You bump into a lot of those kinds of people." 

"Really? Is that we didn’t need to hide when we came in?” You asked. “We didn’t really have to hide, princess. We had to hide you.” Jungkook chuckled, causing you to frown. “So you guys weren’t teasing me?" 

"Nah, we were. You being half asleep made it funnier,” Jungkook laughed. 

“We were teasing at first, but then we realised it would be better to keep you hidden from anyone other than us,” Jimin told you before flicking your cheek.

“I need to prepare for some questions,” Taehyung said, walking into the living. “Done talking to Minho Hyung?” Jimin asked, and he nodded. “Yup.”

“Anway, why do you need to prepare for some questions?” Jungkook asked. “Ah, I told Hyung that the person you were hiding was our soulmate.”

“Heh?" 

"Yeah, now I need to prepare for the number of texts the other Hwarang Hyungs will send me once Minho tells them,” Taehyung sighed, sitting next to Jimin. “Anyway, what do you you guys want to do?" 

"Hm… y/n, are you still sleepy?” Jimin asked. “Hm, not really. I’m actually pretty hungry, though.”

“Should we order or make something to eat?” Jungkook asked. “I don’t mind cooking." 

"We’ve been ordering a lot of food this week. Why don’t we cook instead?” Taehyung offered. “Are you okay with us cooking, y/n?" 

"I’m okay with anything. As long as I get to eat, I’m good." 

"Alright, we can make Jjigae or how about Bulgogi?” Jungkook asked, getting up from the couch.

(Jjigae - Korean stew)

“We had bulgogi the other day, so how about Jjigae? Kimchi Jjigae?” Jimin said. “Come on, you two. Let’s go make something to eat.”

“Doesn’t it take time to make Jjigae thought?” You asked, following Jimin and Taehyung to the kitchen.

“Not if all of us help make it.”

“Alright, I’ll marinate the pork belly with the rice wine and ground black pepper. Jimin, baby, can you please cool the kimchi. Uh, Tae, you can slice the brown onions and mushrooms. We already have sliced tofu. y/n will help the green onions when she’s done with the base,” Jungkook said as he washed his hands. 

“Princess, are you okay with making the base?” He asked you. “I don’t mind." 

"Alright, let’s get to work.”

—

“Hm, thank you, Kook.” Taehyung hummed as he took a bite of his food.

“Why are you guys thanking me? You helped me make it,” Jungkook chuckled before picking up his chopsticks. 

“What should we do when we’re done eating? There’s still a lot of time before we should take y/n home,” Jimin asked. 

“Hm, we can watch a couple of movies.” You told him. “Or we can play some games.”

“Yeah, games are a must. We can play some overwatch or COD,” Jungkook smirked. “Ah, yes. I’d like to redeem myself-" 

"You won’t be able to redeem yourself if you’ll play against him in Overwatch or COD,” Taehyung chuckled. “You’ll get embarrassed.”

“You think I don’t know how to play?” You asked, putting down your spoon and folding your arms over your chest. 

“You sucked at simple arcade games, princess. How will you beat me in a game these two can’t? Any they actually know how to play it,” Jungkook asked, leaning forward and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. 

“Fine. Jimin and Taehyung can teach me the basics of the game. Once I know it, I’ll be able to win and prove myself.”

“Let’s bet on it, princess. If I win, you’ll grant me a wish, and if you win, vice versa, okay?” Jungkook offered, and you hummed in response. 

“Deal.”

The four of you finished eating rather quickly so that Taehyung and Jimin could teach you the basics of Overwatch.

They spent almost an hour helping you while Jungkook lounged in their room, waiting for you to be done. 

“Good luck, y/n. Someone needs to bring this boy down for once. We’re rooting for you!” Jimin said. 

“Do you think you’re ready to play? Or do you want us to help you some more?” Taehyung asked.

“I think you’ve given her enough training time. Don’t worry… I haven’t played in a while, so I might be a little rusty,” Jungkook said, sitting on the cushion next to you. 

“Team, or do you want it 1v1?” He asked. 

“Hey, how will team versus team be fair?” Jimin frowned. “Just play 1v1. She’ll use my account to verse you." 

"Wait, but how will you play 1v1 using the tv? Doesn’t y/n need to play off another device? It doesn’t work like Fifa, where we have a player(team) one and player(team) two,” Taehyung said.

“I think they’ll have to play in the game room?” Jimin said, but it sounded more like a question. “Game room? You guys have a game room?” You asked, and they nodded. 

“Yup. now let’s go so I can beat you!” Jungkook exclaimed, getting up, almost skipping away. 

“How many rooms do you guys have?” You asked as you followed them to their game room. 

“This is a three-bedroom apartment. We turned the bigger spare into our game room since we game a lot in our free time,” Jimin told you. 

“That’s so cool,” you muttered. 

“Will you three hurry up? I need my wish to be granted!” Jungkook exclaimed, causing you to chuckle. 

“That’s our soulmate,” Taehyung smiled. “He already thinks he’s going to win.”

“We’re coming!" 

Once you were sitting down in front of one of the monitors, Jungkook turned to you with a smile.

"May the best soulmate win.”

—

“Unbelievable…" 

Jimin gasped as he looked at your monitor. You, too, were surprised to see the gold capitalised words: victory on your screen. 

"No, no, no, no!” Jungkook whined. taking off his headsets. “How is this possible? What?”

“Jungkook got beaten? y/n actually beat Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with wide eyes. “Seems so…”

“I won!” You exclaimed. “I actually won!" 

"This isn’t fair! This is beginners’ luck! Let’s play for two more rounds, please?" 

"No~ Our deal was for one round and one round only. We play more rounds for fun,” you told him. “But later, these games aren’t my kind of thing.”

“Well done, princess!” Jimin said, raising his hand to give you a high five. “It usually takes us a lot of rounds to beat Jungkook in 1v1. You did it one go!”

“Beginners luck…” Jungkook muttered. “Beginners luck.”

“Accept defeat, baby. Let’s just go and watch a movie,” Taehyung said. 

“First, let me grant whatever wish y/n has,” Jungkook sighed. “What do you want to wish for?”

“Hm,” you hummed, rubbing your chin as if you were in deep thought. “I’ll think about it.”

Jungkooks mouth fell open. “Nah, you don’t even know what you want to wish for? Come on, y/n.~”

“What would you have wished for if you won, huh?” Jimin chuckled, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. 

Jungkook blushed and looked down at his lap. He had a wish in mind, but he wasn’t sure if it really counted as one. 

“Come on. What were you going to ask for, hm?" 

"I-I would’ve asked for another date." 

"Of course, that would’ve been your wish,” Taehyung chuckled. “We can y/n out on a date sometime next week, Kookie.”

“Where do you think we should take her?” Jungkook asked. “We can think about that later. Let’s go watch some movies. y/n’s probably waiting for us in the living room." 

"Wait, do we have any microwaveable popcorn? Do we have snacks?” Jimin asked, and they shrugged. 

“We should have some snacks. Not sure about popcorn, though,” Taehyung frowned.

“Well, we’ll see once we get to the kitchen.”

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make it three | ten

⨽summary: everything made sense to you, until it didn’t. you expected the name of your soulmate to appear on your shoulder the day you turned twenty one. and on the day of your twenty first birthday, that happened, but instead of one name, there were three.

⨽pairing: vminkook x reader

⨽genre: fluff , soulmate au , slow burn (?)

⨽warnings: none

⨽word count: 1.5k

⨽a/n: beginning to become a bit fluffy i think :)

It had been almost two weeks since you went on your first date with your soulmates. And the three idols were rather upset that they didn’t get to see you often due to their schedules.

“What’s our schedule for next week looking like?” Jimin asked with a sigh.

“We’re actually free next week!” Hoseok cheered, causing their eyes to widen.

“The whole week?” Jungkook asked, and Namjoon nodded. “Yup. I can finally spend some time with Jaymi.”

“Have you not spent enough time with her? Jaymi has been coming during practices, and you’re almost always at her place. I’m beginning to wonder how Dispatch hasn’t caught you yet,” Yoongi huffed.

“That’s because everyone thinks I can’t drive,” Namjoon chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Oh my gosh! Since we’re off next week, we can finally see y/n, too!” Taehyung cheered, clapping his hands. “We should ask her if she’s got anytime next week.”

“Have any of you guys seen their soulmate?” Hoseok asked.

“I have. I’ve talked to y/n too. The girl seems like a sweetheart.” Jin said, causing Taehyung to send him a glare. “Lucky. I was hoping to talk to her, but Taehyung ended their call before I got to see or hear her.”

“So her name is y/n?” Namjoon asked, causing Jin to gasp. “You haven’t told the others her name?”

“How long did it take for Namjoon to reveal what Jaymi Noona looked like? He wouldn’t tell us her name, either.” Jungkook said, raising his brow.

“I was shy, okay?”

“Why would you be shy off showing us who your soulmate is?” Yoongi asked. “I’d show my soulmate off.”

“As if. You’d take the longest to give us any information on that person,” Jimin laughed. “Anyway, why don’t we call y/n once we get home? Isn’t she in the middle of a class right now?”

“Yeah, she’s supposed to be in the middle of a Sociology lecture,” Jungkook said.

“You guys know her timetable?” Jin asked with wide eyes, and Taehyung hummed in response. “We didn’t know it off by heart, but we have it.”

“Is that not… weird?” Yoongi frowned, causing Namjoon to chuckle. “Nope. When Jaymi was still working time, I had a timetable of when her shifts were.”

“That’s flipping weird.”

“I honestly think it’s cute. I can’t wait to find my soulmate,” Hoseok sighed. “Me too, Hobi.”

“Wait, are we done for the day too?” Jungkook suddenly asked. “You know your soulmate’s timetable, but you don’t know your own?” Yoongi scoffed, causing Jungkook to send him a glare.

“I know our timetable, hyung. It’s almost always changing.”

“Yes. We have the rest of the day off, Jungkook.” Jin told him, giving him a small smile.

“Jiminie! Tae! Why don’t we go to y/n’s school and pick her up?” Jungkook asked as he checked the time. “If we leave now, we’ll get there just before her class ends!”

“You’re right. Let’s do that!” Taehyung said, getting up from his seat. “Let’s not tell her we’re coming. I want it to kind of be a surprise.”

“Look at how excited they’ve become,” Namjoon chuckled. “They suddenly gained all their energy when they realised they’d finally get to see their soulmate.”

The four other members watched as the soulmates grabbed their things and rushed to the door.

“Shut up, Namjoon. You were just and still are the same when it comes to Jaymi!” Jimin exclaimed before closing the door.

—

“Mingyu and I are going on a date tonight! That should honestly make my Friday ten times flipping better.” Yeonjun groaned as the two of you walked out of your Criminal Law lecture.

“You haven’t been able to go on dates because he’s been busy with work, right?” You asked, and he hummed in response.

“Yup! So I’m happy we finally get to spend some time together,” he cheered, causing you to sigh.

“I wonder when’s the next time I get to see the guys. As far as I know, we won’t be seeing each other for a while since their schedules are packed.”

“Ah, that’s right… your soulmates are flipping kpop idols…” Yeonjun muttered. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m sure you’ll see them soon!”

“Hopefully, I will. Anyway, what do you and Mingyu plan to do?” You asked. “Also, where are we supposed to meet Yuna?”

“Hm, probably a movie night? I don’t want much, hey… Just some time together. And uh, we’re supposed to meet up with Yuna at the entrance.” Yenjun told you, checking his phone to make sure he was correct.

“I’m so happy it’s Friday,” you sighed.

This week had been a bit stressful, and you just wanted to get home and rest.

“Friday~ Friday~ Fri- Oh, who’s calling?” You muttered. “Junnie? Be a dear and take my phone out of my backpack?”

Yeonjun groaned before opening your backpack and taking out your phone.

“Who’s calling?”

“Uh, Jungkook. Damn, you saved your soulmates with their names?” Yeonjun asked, handing you your phone. “Yeah… is there a problem with that?” You frowned.

“Pick up the call, sweetie. We’ll talk about this later.” You eyed him weirdly before answering the call.

“y/n~” Jungkook sang, causing you to smile. “Jungkook~ What’s up?”

“What’re you doing? Like right now?” He asked. “I just got out of class with Yeonjun, and we’re on our way to the entrance to find Yuna. What about you guys? Just finished practice?”

“Nope. We’re looking for you.” This time it was Taehyung that spoke. “Looking for me? What do you mean looking for me?”

“We were given the rest of today off, and we came here hoping to see you. We’re parked in a parking lot, where there weren’t many students around,” Jimin told you.

“You guys wouldn’t have seen me if you’re parked there. I’ll come there right now. Uh, how should I know it’s you guys?” You asked, picking up your pace.

“When we see you, we’ll hoot. - And I’ll stick my hand out and wave!”

“Alright. I’ll see you three in a bit,” you said before ending the call.

“Looks like somebody will get to see her soulmates after all,” Yeonjun teased, causing you to playfully roll your eyes.

“You looked so disappointed earlier. Thought it’d be long before you’d see those boys again, but look at you! All smiles and stuff.~”

“Yeonjun… shut up, will you?” You groaned, and he laughed. “There’s a lot more teasing to come, babe.”

You let out a sigh and shook your head. “Anyway, so what do you think we should get for lunch? Yuna- shoot! The three of us had plans!” You muttered before looking at your friend.

Yeonjun smiled. “It’s okay. You see us too often to turn down once in a while chance you get to see those guys. I’ll tell Yuna.”

You smiled before giving him a hug. “Thanks, Junnie. See you guys whenever!” You exclaimed before running out the entrance.

“y/n! There you are- did she run past me like that?” Yuna frowned as she watched your figure disappear.

“Her soulmates are here. So she’s going to spend time with them.” Yeonjun suddenly said, appearing behind her. “It’s hard to believe she was upset earlier.”

“What the heck, Yeonjun? Don’t do that!” Yuna exclaimed, clutching her chest as she tried to calm her beating heart.

“Sorry, babe. Anyway, Let’s go get food, shall we?”

—

“Where are they? Where are they?” You asked yourself once you reached the parking lot.

“Let me give them a call-” *Honk*

You quickly looked up, and in the distance was a black SUV with a hand sticking out of the window and waving at you.

“y/n!” You couldn’t help but laugh before making your way to the car.

The door slid open, just wide enough for you to get in. “Come!” Taehyung whispered-yelled, extending his hand for you to take.

As soon as you were pulled in, the door was quickly closed behind you.

“y/n!” Jungkook exclaimed, shifting aside, creating space for you to sit. “Sit here. Between Tae and I.”

“Hey, Jungkook. Hey guys…”

“Gosh, you don’t know how much we were dying to see you again,” Jimin smiled. “Mhm!” Taehyung agreed.

“I think our hyungs were tired of us constantly asking what our schedule looks like even though we know,” Jungkook chuckled. “Anyway, how was your day?”

“The same…”

“This week was tiring, huh?” Taehyung asked, and you hummed in response. “I feel exhausted, and I just want to rest.”

“Hm… do you want to go over to our place?” Jimin suddenly asked, causing his boyfriends to look at him wide-eyed. ’Huh?’

“Our plan was to go somewhere. But since you’re tired, we can just chill there. Unless you’re not comfortable with that yet…”

“Anything is fine. As long as I’m with you three… I don’t mind,” you softly chuckled before closing your eyes as you got comfortable. “Anything… is fine. As long as I’m with you…”

The three males couldn’t help but smile as they watched you slowly fall asleep.

‘You must’ve been super tired, huh?“ Taehyung whispered, gently moving your head to rest on his shoulder. "Mhm.”

“Is this okay?” He asked, and you nodded.

Taehyung hesitantly wrapped an arm around you before pulling you closer.

’You two look cute,’ Jimin mouthed before turning to the front.

“Hyung… to our place, please.”

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make it three | nine

⨽summary: everything made sense to you, until it didn’t. you expected the name of your soulmate to appear on your shoulder the day you turned twenty one. and on the day of your twenty first birthday, that happened, but instead of one name, there were three.

⨽pairing: vminkook x reader

⨽genre: fluff , soulmate au , slow burn (?)

⨽warnings: none ( i think)

⨽word count: 1.1k

⨽a/n: i kinda hate this part. i’ll probably improve it later lol.

“Tell me why those three have been staring into the distance with stupid smiles on their faces?” Yoongi asked as he looked at the lost looking members.

“They went out with their soulmate yesterday. I guess something must’ve happened. Like a kiss or something,” Jin chuckled. 

“Reminds me of how Namjoon. He was like this when he and Jaymi Noona started going out,” Hoseok chuckled. “Yeah, but I’m better. This is three times worse than I was. Literally.”

Finally, snapping out of his thoughts, Taehyung let out a sigh. "Did I act like this when the other two kissed me on my cheek?" 

"A kiss on the cheek!? Acting like this because of a kiss on the cheek?”

“You wouldn’t understand. It’s from a soulmate,” Namjoon told him. “And to answer your question. No. You guys did act out of it. A lot, actually, but it wasn’t to this extent. I think it’s because the three of you were already close before you found out you were soulmates.”

“I can’t wait to see her again,” Jungkook sighed. “Me too, Kook.”

“Unlucky for you, our schedule is packed this weekend and next week. Good luck trying to meet up with your soulmate again,” Yoongi grumbled, causing the three to frown.

“Yoongi!” Jin exclaimed. “What?”

“Don’t worry, guys. I’m sure you’ll be able to see her again soon!" 

-

"So… how was it?” Yuna asked. “Yeah! I texted you last night. Heck, I even called, but you never picked up!” Yeonjun whined. 

“It was good. Beat the boys in a dance game, but then Jungkook redeemed himself in a shooting game. I also discovered that they suck at claw machines,” you chuckled. 

“So… did anything happen?” Yuna asked, wiggling her eyebrows. “Yeah, like a kiss or something…”

“If she kissed one of them, I bet you it was Jimin!” Yeonjun scoffed. “Just because she met him first doesn’t mean he’s the one who’s going to take her first kiss. I bet you it’s Jungkook-”

“It was literally our first date! I didn’t kiss any of them! Actually, I did… but it was on the cheek and…, and they had their masks on,” you told them as a pink tint spread on your cheeks.

“Now, why would you do that?” Yuna asked with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you pull their masks down, huh? At least one of them?" 

"I couldn’t have possibly done that. I don’t even know how I mustered up the courage to kiss the guys on their cheeks!” Yeonjun let out a sigh as he sunk into his seat. “You’re hopeless. Way worse than I was." 

"What? You had one soulmate. I have three,” you grumbled. “Such a comparison is unfair." 

"When do you think the next time you guys will go out is?” Yuna asked. “I don’t know, honestly. The guys are idols, and I’m sure they’ve got busy schedules. It’ll honestly depend on the next time they’re free." 

"Next time you go out, make a bolder move, babe. Like hold hands or- wait, did you even hold hands with any of them?” Yeonjun asked, and you slowly shook your head. “No…" 

"Oh my gosh, and here we were thinking you would’ve already kissed them-" 

"Come on! It was our first date. Why would you think that?” You groaned. “It was my first time going on a date…" 

"Fine, but who do you actually think will be your first kiss-" 

"We will not talk about that!" 

-

"I’ve just gotten in,” you told him as you kicked off your shoes before closing the door behind you.

Taehyung had decided to give you a call just before you reached your apartment door. 

“Good. How was your day?” he asked. “Hm, it was good. I didn’t have many lectures to attend today,” you said, making your way to your bedroom. “You? How was your day?" 

"It was good too. We didn’t have dance practice today.”

“Do you not like your dance practices?” You asked with a chuckle. “Hm, not always. Sometimes it’s nice, but it can be really tiring. I just want to go on holiday,” Taehyung softly whined.

You let out a soft sigh as you plopped onto your bed. “When do you think you’ll get a break?”

“Not anytime soon. We’re preparing for our comeback… so yeah- Tae? Who are you on the phone with?” Your brows furrowed in confusion at the new voice. It didn’t sound like any of your other soulmates, so it was probably one of his members.

“With my soulmate- Oh? The one you just found?. Switch to video call. I wanna see her!" 

"Sorry, y/n. Is it okay if we switch to video call? One of my older members would like to see you,” Taehyung asked. “Yeah, sure.”

“Hi,” you waved as soon as the call switched to video. “Hi.”

“Aye, look at you taking screenshots,” the male behind Taehyung chuckled. “Hyung…”

“Hi, there, pretty. My name’s Seokjin. Kim Seokjin but everyone just calls me Jin. Nice to meet you,” he introduced himself. “Nice to meet you too, Jin. My name’s y/n." 

"You know, your soulmates were so out of it today. They kept staring into nothing with stupid smiles on their faces-" 

"Hyung…” Taehyung interrupted, sending his friend a glare but Jin didn’t seem fazed by it at all. “Because you kissed them on the cheek. What made it funnier was all of them were out of it.” Jin laughed, which also caused you to laugh. 

“Stop embarrassing us, hyung.”

“It’s not embarrassing, Tae. I’m sure y/n find it cute. Don’t you y/n?” Jin asked. “I do find it cute, actually,” you giggled, causing Taehyung to blush. “Awe, you’re blushing.~" 

"Can you let us talk in peace?” He groaned, which only made Jin laugh. “I can’t wait to do this to you when you find your soulmate.”

“Pfft, as if I’d let you. Y- Jin, hyung! Where are you? I need your help!”

“Yes, go to wherever you’re needed and leave us alone,” Taehyung grumbled, causing you to giggle. 

“Fine. It was nice talking to you, y/n. Let me do what this kid wants and leave you two alone. Bye, pretty~” Jin sang. “Bye, Jin." 

"Flipping, finally,” Taehyung muttered before giving you a smile. “Sorry about that. He likes to tease us sometimes." 

"It’s okay. Yuna and Junnie are like that too-”

“Oooh, who you’re on the phone with?” A new voice said. “I swear to God… why won’t you guys talk to y/n in peace?” Taehyung groaned, and you giggled. “y/n? Your soulmate? The one guys were gushing over? Oh, can I see her?”

“Oh my God! Remind me to never call you when I’m at the dorm, okay?" 

"Okay,” you said with a laugh. ‘Looks like having him and the other two as my  soulmates is going to be eventful.’

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taerseok:

Alice in the Madness of Wonderland: The Stygian Fairytale | Walkthrough

↳ Banner and dividers made by @kim-seok-jin​. Thank you^^. 

✉Titles:

➝Alice in the Madness of Wonderland: The Stygian Fairytale

➝Stygian (the madness corrupts me, and you, my saviour)

Though Alice ‘Y/N’ Liddell is overshadowed, and she doesn’t seem to think much of it, she yearns for a world which notices her- gives her a chance- a part of her wanting for a turn to be on the pedestal. But of course, nothing can change that-

Or can it?

One chance encounter with a boy with bunny ears and a strange hole, and she arrives at the world of Wonderland- a world of magic, mystery and madness. Protecting her life is one thing, but-

What more when everyone seems determined to capture her heart?

Take care, Alice…

✉ Information: 

➠ Pairing: Seokjin × reader, Yoongi × reader, Hoseok × reader, Namjoon × reader, Jimin × reader, Taehyung × reader, Jungkook × reader, OT7 × reader

➠ Genres: Angst, fantasy, alice in wonderland!au, reverse harem, isekai (teleported to a fantasy world), mystery 

➠ Overall Rating: PG-18

➠ Warnings: Violence, suicide, comatose, disturbing scenes, weapons, fights, yandere, insanity, mental illnesses, torture, massacre, serial killers, violent riots, executions, murders, large amount of people die, stalking, people lead other people on, threats, madness (but it’s wonderland so), tea parties and the white rabbit

✉ Character Profiles:

⇢ March Hare ‘ღ’

⇢ Ace of Hearts ‘ღ’

⇢ King of Hearts ‘ღ’

⇢ Cheshire Cat ‘ღ’

⇢ Clockmaker ‘ღ’

⇢ Mad Hatter ‘ღ’

⇢ White Rabbit ‘ღ’

✉ Beta-player [a.k.a. me, blog writer and walkthrough maker!] comments:

Several crashes may occur while playing the game, as the developers told me. This is still a beta version of the game, after all! The game also contains a lot of violence… hrmm, well, you’ll see for yourself. I’ve been told not to give too many spoilers, but the developers hinted to me that as the player, we have a special power!

If you complete a route, you don’t have to continue to the next one. You can pick whichever route you’re on and make it your true end. When that option pops out in the game, and you pick yes, Wonderland will close, and Alice and her suitor will be able to leave! It’s our choices while reading that matter!

Or… at least that’s what they said. Still, I’d warn you guys to be careful in choosing! This game is tricky, and it has several bad ends too… ah, I shouldn’t spoil anymore. This is an online game, so I put the links below if you want to play the beta version too! Careful though~ It links straight to the prologue, so for any players replaying, just choose the route after!

Oh, and one last thing- though all of the main cast are dateable characters; it’s of course, only one character per route though… or is it? Hehehe!

If you go through all routes, you might get a secret ending! Bonus scenes! So complete the full game when it comes out, okay?

No, the developers totally didn’t ask me to say all that to promote the game~

Have fun playing, and I hope this walkthrough helps you!

Reader discretion advised.

⇢ Preview the Prologue here.

            ╔═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════╗

                       [Would you like to start the game?]

                                 [Yes]           [No]  

           ╚═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════╝

✉Routes:

[Routes are still in development, please visit from time to time to check for a new update.]

✉Sidestory:

[Sidestories will be available after the release of the full game, please look forward to them.]

All rights reserved © 2020 kimtaejin [bangtan-dreamland | taerseok]. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed.

Fall together

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: fluff, angst, best friends to lovers au

Warning: Swearing, smoking, mature content(no smut tho)

Synopsis: Jimin decides to kiss his bestfriend who he was in love with not knowing if she felt the same way.

———————————————–

Jimin sat on the terrace, the rain pouring down on him, the drops of water falling fast and hard on his back, his body drenched to the bone. He didn’t flinch when the rain drops fell on him, he had adjusted to the pain.

The cigarette he had been smoking earlier was nothing more than ash now, too drenched to keep burning. He recalled the events of today as he lifted his chin up, feeling the rain drops pouring on him.

Yn pushed up against the wall, her chest against his own, his lips descending upon her, hot and needy tongues meeting to dance together, his hands on her hips and hers around his neck, holding onto him while he devoured her. She had moaned for him, the sound so sinfully beautiful, it had him hooked; and then she had pulled away from him, cheeks red and eyes shaky, lips swollen and panting. Breathless as she opened the closet door and walked out, putting on a facade as she joined the rest of the group as if nothing happened.

He wondered how long she’d play with him, how long she’d pretend like his feelings didn’t exist, he was putting everything on the line for her and here she was, refusing to accept the fact that he was in love with her.

He knew why she was pretending, she didn’t want to throw away years of friendship for one chance at being something more. He knew there was no going back from here, no going back to the way thing were, he never planned on going back either.

He didn’t think he could stand being just friends with her anymore, he couldn’t stand around, watching as others try and maybe even succeed in taking what he wanted the most in his life away from him.

He had hoped that she’d push him away, stop him, tell hi this was not what she wanted, give him a clear fucking sign that she didn’t want him, he didn’t want to be given hope if he didn’t have a chance with her. And yet she had strung him along, making him think that he did have a chance when she had let him kiss her like THAT.

Now he didn’t know how to feel, he wanted to hear her moan again, wanted to feel the euphoric high that kissing her made him feel, and at the same time, he didn’t know if he could do this anymore. What if she didn’t like him like that, what if she left, what if she decided he wasn’t worth it. It worried him, the though of her leaving.

He hear the door to the terrace swing open, he didn’t turn around, knowing who it was already. “Why are you here?” he asked her, he couldn’t bring himself to not care, it had become a habit.

“I was looking for you” she answered, walking closer so her umbrella could shade him from the rain. “Why??” he asked, pulling himself onto his feet. “Why not” she shrugged as he took the umbrella from her so they both would be covered, her small height wasn’t ideal for this.

“Why do you do this to me?” he groaned as she pulled out a napkin from her pocket, dabbing at his face. “Do what?” she asked, genuinely confused as to what she was doing that was driving Jimin up the wall.

“This!” He said as he pointed to the space between the two of them. “How long will you keep stringing me along?, how long will you keep pretending like I’m not right next to you proclaiming my love for every chance I can ?” he demanded as he dropped the umbrella, pacing around as he spoke, never giving Yn a chance to say anything.

“I’m not pretending” Yn said quietly, almost too quietly but Jimin still heard, “Then why don’t you just tell me if falling for you is waste of my time, am I just riling myself up for heartbreak Yn?” he asked, stopping right in front of her to grab her shoulders.

“Should I give up?” he asked as he stood infront of her, she reached out to push his wet hair out of his face, “Come back downstairs, you’ll fall sick if you’re here” she said as she turned around to leave.

But Jimin was not ready to let this go, not today at least, “how long will you keep putting it off Yn, just tell me if I should give up and I will” he pleaded gripping onto her wrist to stop her from leaving , she didn’t say anything, moving his hand from her wrist into her hand, pulling him with her, the umbrella forgotten

as she dragged him into the warmth of the building.

“Answer me please” he pleaded as he followed after her, his hand still in hers, she ignored his words, making her way down to Jimin’s apartment.

She unlocked the door, dragging him inside his bedroom before coming to a halt. Her hair and clothes stuck to her body from the rain, hugging each curve like it was meant to.

“Go take a shower, you’ll fall sick” She demanded, pulling out clothes from the closet for the two of them, “Yn you can’t do that, you can’t pretend to care and then refuse to answer me” Jimin huffed as he grabbed the clothes from Yn’s hands, spinning her around to look at him, desperation in his eyes.

“But I’m not pretending to care” she replied, looking up into his eyes, it hurt that Jimin thought she was pretending to care, there had never been a time when she hadn’t cared, she always cared about him.

He looked at her, searching for any insincerity, anything that would make him love her less and yet, he found nothing, all he found was genuine affection, a tenderness that he had fallen for a long time ago, it just made him love her more and it hurt to love her more, not knowing if she accepted his love or not was a risk h had planned to take, but it was still hard.

“Are my feelings a joke to you?” Jimin finally snapped, he was tired of playing this game, trying to get her to realize that he wanted more, that he wanted to love as more than her best friend.

“Why do you do this? How could say things like that and expect me to not fall in love? why do you not realize that I am in love with you? And that kiss, that freaking kiss, why the hell did you not pull away, why didn’t you tell me to stop? Why do you keep giving me hope that I actually have a chance with you? Why do you keep making me fall if you’re not going to fall with me?” Jimin yelled in one single breath as Yn stared at him, his heart pounding and out of breath.

“Not falling? NOT FALLING? ARE YOU INSANE PARK JIMIN? HOLY FUCK! NOT FALLING?? YOU GO AHEAD AND CALL ME OBLIVIOUS AND ALL BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU - YOU FUCKING HYPOCRITE, DO YOU HAVE ANY CLUE HOW HARD I FELL? I’M NOT READY TO GIVE AWAY NEARLY A DECADE OF FRIENDSHIP FOR LITERALLY ONE CHANCE AT SOMETHING MORE, WE HAVE SO MUCH TO LOSE YOU ASSHOLE, THERE IS NO GOING BACK ONCE WE TIP OVER THE EDGE. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO PRETEND TO NOT KNOW THAT YOU HAVE FEELINGS FOR ME?? I NEARLY CONFESSED LIKE 9 TIMES IN THE PAST 10 DAYS AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO YELL AT ME, WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE HUH? AND THAT KISS, THAT FREAKING KISS, I DIDN’T STOP YOU BECAUSE I WANTED IT AS MUCH AS YOU DID, HOW THE HELL DO YOU WANT ME TO ASK YOU TO STOP WHEN MY TONGUE IS SHOVED DOWN YOUR THROAT??” she yelled back as Jimin slowly backed away from her as tears streamed down her already wet cheeks.

Well that certainly backfired, Jimin thought as he tried to process everything she had yelled, waiiitttt, did she just say she fell?, “Wait did you just say you fell, like fell in love?” Jimin asked a fuming Yn.

“Boy, I will crack you like a glowstick if you tell me you didn’t listen to a word I’ve been saying” Yn hissed, but Jimin was too busy making his way forward to take heed of the threat, pushing her up against the closet door, caging her in between before capturing her lips with his own, he felt euphoria all over again.

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this” He whispered, pulling away from her, their damp bodies pressed against each other as he looked down into her eyes.

“Jimin we can’t” Yn pleaded as she reached up to caress his face, her palm soft against his stubble, “Why not, I fucking love you, so why the fuck not?” Jimin asked, no, begged. “There’s too much to lose, it could go so wrong JImin, it could destroy both of us” she mumbled as he brushed his nose against hers.

Jimin pulled away, looking down at her, “You really think I didn’t think of that? I thought of it every night, I thought of it everytime I saw you, I weighted everything before I decided that I’m willing to risk it all, you’re worth the risk Yn, our friendship is

worth the risk because I can’t see myself being just friends with you”. He retorted, Jimin had never lied to Yn and he was never going to, he was going to tell her everything he felt.

“You know what fuck this shit” Yn groaned, grabbing him by the collar and latching her lips to his, Jimin was very happy to oblige, quickly taking control.

Their tongues danced in harmony, what started as a sweet kiss, prolonging into a heated make-out session, what dragged Yn out of the daze was the coldness of Jimin’s shirt against her skin. She quickly pulled away, earning a whine from him, “Go shower, you’ll fall sick” she demanded, pushing him off her and shoving the clothes she had pulled out into his hands.

“Care to join me sweetheart?”he teased as she tugged on her wet shirt, “Woahh, slow down chim, you shower in a temperature that is more than the boiling water of hell, so no thank you” she answered, turning away from him to search through the closet for a shirt for herself. Jimin pouted like a child as he stormed into the bathroom, he seemed to remember something in the middle of undressing because he popped his head out of the door, shirtless and his pants unbuttoned.

“Do not leave while I’m in the bathroom, we still need to talk” He warned before going back inside, Yn shrugged, it wasn’t like she was planning to leave. She went to the bathroom in the guest room to shower and get changed into one of Jimin’s shirts.

Jimin was still not out of the bathroom by the time Yn ordered the two of them takeout. She had no clue what took Jimin this long.

Jimin’s mind was going into over-drive as he thought about all the possibilities that he and Yn wouldn’t work out. He had even used a love calculator in the past and it had showed him a solid 69% but he didn’t have much faith in that calculator, personally, he thought he and Yn were 100% compatible, but that was just his opinion.

He had already thought of the names of his three kids and two cats, the location of their house and what colors the walls would be. He was brought back to reality when the hot water ran out. Never letting hot water run out at my place, he thought to himself as he walked out of the bathroom, drying himself off before putting on the clothes Yn picked out.

He walked into the living room to see Yn chowing down a plate of jajangmeon and he felt a little guilty for making her wait. “What took you so long?” she asked as she gulped down the noodles, picking at the side dishes, “The hot water was too nice to get out of” he lied, joining her side as she passed him a plate of japchae too.

The two of them ate in silence, stealing a bite of each other’s food once in a while before settling down to talk. “So, girlfriend~” Jimin drawled, “Girlfriend??” Yn questioned, “What you wanna be the boyfriend? I’m okay with that.” Jimin said with a thoughtful nod.

“Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself Jimin?” Yn teased, rolling from her spot to his before wrapping her arms around him, “At least buy me dinner first” she jested, “Yah, didn’t you pay the delivery man with my money? technically I already bought you dinner” he defended, wrapping his arm around her.

Yn decided to be bold, swinging her leg onto the other side of Jimin before placing herself on his lap, a mischievous grin on her lips. Jimin was very pleased. “Well then Boyfriend~” she started, Jimin’s hands finding their way to her hips, gripping her firmly in place, humming encouragingly when he heard her call him boyfriend.

“I need to get home, it’s getting late” she finished, ruining the whole mood, “Very romantic” Jimin quipped with a roll of his eye as she tried to get off his lap, his hands firmly holding her in place. “I try!” her retort was paired with a flirty wink.

“Well girlfriend, might as well stay the night since it is so late, can’t have the love of my life go home when it’s so dark outside” he continued, sitting a little straighter so there was less space between the two of them.

“Cute, but that won’t work, try again tomorrow when I don’t have work” she answered as she wiggled to get

out of his grip, “Yn darling, you might want to stop wiggling if you don’t want to cause me problems” Jimin groaned as he felt Yn’s core grinding against him, holy fuck this woman would drive him insane.

“So Jimin-ssi are you taking me home or not?” She asked as she finally managed to get away from him, gathering her things from all over the house, “Only if you kiss me goodbye” he bargained, Yn nodded, fair enough, she was going to do it anyway.

Jimin happily whistled as he lead the way to his car, Yn’s hand in his as she followed behind him, dressed in his shirt and the heels she had worn when she had come to his apartment. He felt giddy, praying that they would part for the rest of their lives.

————————————–

END

————————————-

You could’ve been nicer {BTS} pt. 3

Part 1 /Part 2

Summary: How do the boys react when you tell them “I think you could’ve been nicer to me today”?

Jung Hoseok

You were lying next to each other bodies tangled as an aftermath of the activities you just finished. Both of you were still slightly breathing heavy. Hobi had one arm wrapped around you and brushed his fingertips gently your arm up and down. Your hand rest on his bare chest and you were tempted to tease his hardend nipple but decided to tease him other wise.

“Hoseok?” “Hm?” he answered immediatly hearing his real name fall from your lips and not any type of pet name. “What’s wrong?” he asked trying to see your face to identify how you were feeling. “I think you could’ve been nicer to me today.” you said while hiding your face because there was no way you could hide your smile. His whole body tensed up and you kind of felt bad - but also not. “Wait, what?” he asked and you could hear that he felt sorry through his voice. “Was I too rough?” he asked and blood flushed to your cheeks. When you didn’t answer he pulled away gently and cupped your face with his hand to make you look at him. “Did I hurt you?” he asked and he was seriously concerned about your well being. His eyes were looking for anytype of discomfort he might have caused you. “No you could’ve been just a little nicer.” you said and his eyes looked sad all of a sudden and this time you felt really bad.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you would tell me if anything isn’t the way you want. I’m sorry. I’ll be more carefull next time. I thought you liked it rough since you never said anything.” he apologized and suddenly his eyes went wide. “Was I too rough the whole time? Did I hurt you this whole time?” he said and his voice sounded a few octaves higher feom shock. “Oh baby no!” you backtracked immediately as you saw that your prank backfired. “I was joking. I was just joking.” you ensured him but he shook his head. “No, you need to tell me stuff like this. You can’t keep it to yourself just because you think my feelings will get hurt. Your safety is more important than…”

“Hoseok it was a joke! I pranked you!” you interrupted him and pressed your palm against his mouth to make him shut up. “I was just trying to get a reaction out of you. It’s a trend that’s going around.” you explained and leaned down to his ear,”I love it when you take me rough and ruthless all night long.” you purred and your hot breath against his ear gave him goosebumps. Suddenly he flipped you over and was hovering over you. “I’ll show you rough and ruthless.”

Park Jimin

Jimin came into the living room after he changed into something comfy and let himself fall right onto the couch next to you. He laid his head in your lap and you brushed your fingers through his hair. “Min.” you called him and he opened his eyes. “I feel like you could’ve been nicer to me today.” you said and he let out a tired chuckle. “What do you mean?” he asked and closed his eyes again. “Just that you could’ve been nicer.” you said and he turned onto his back and opened his eyes to look up at you. “Babe I haven’t seen you in a week. Let alone today. I literally came home two hours ago.” he explained and tried to understand what you were getting at. “How could I have been not nice?” he asked and was about to blow your cover but you suddenly forgot about the prank. “You’re right. I almost never see you. There is no time for nice things.” you said under your breath and your sudden change in mood made him sit up and look at you. “Hey.” he said to grab your attention and you looked at him. You chuckled sadly and shook your head. “Nevermind. I was trying to prank you but it kind of backfired. Forget about it. You’re tired. You should rest.” you said and patted your legs to signal him to lay back down.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked and you sighed. “No! No, of course not.” you said and took his hand into yours. “I just missed you. And you rubbing in that you’re almost never around didn’t make it better.” you explained and he chuckled while wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close to him. “You accused me of not being nice.” he said and kissed the top of your head. You poked his tummy and he laughed. “It was supposed to be funny.” you said now realizing that it was just stupid. “It’s funny now.” he laughed and you rolled your eyes. “Shut up.” you pouted and he tightened his hug while you felt his chest vibrate from his laughter.

lust for life - PJM

your summer holiday takes an interesting turn when Park Jimin, your step brother’s best friend, barges into your room asking for directions around your parents’ new home, dripping in the same charm and allure you remember from all those years ago, still willing to teach you a few things.

⤷series masterlist

pairing— stepbro’s best friend!jimin x nerdy!reader

genre/rating—R | smut, fluff, slight angst, fwb2l

warnings/tags— summer holiday, rich kids au, college au, strong language, small age gap, sorta weird family dynamics, inexperienced!reader, flirty jimin, he has a filthy mouth, blond jimin, sexual discovery, corruption kink, insecurities, virgin!reader but she’s a secret freak lol, bickering, her fave color is pink, vaping, teasinggg, mouth fetish?, slight coercion, explicit smut ++

note:AHH finally !! i’ve been planning this since march but yk how it is ‍ anyway this jimin is literally my fave & i hope you guys enjoy him and the fun ride !! it’s gonna be a lot a lot ‍

play—lust for life by lana del rey, the weekend, sex talk by megan thee stallion

☆ posting 220616 8AM KST ☆

playlist

taglist☆masterlist

© aquagustd 2021-2022do not copy/repost/translate

kpopfanfictrash:

Author: @kpopfanfictrashas a part of the BANGmeTANseries

Creative Contributor:@m00nk1ld created this header & found Jimin’s butt double for the photo

Rating: 18+ (explicit sex)

Genre: Porn Star!AU / fluff / smut / slight angst

Warning:dirty talk, oral (male and female), body worship, car sex (it’s parked!), jimin is perfect but what else is new?

Word Count: 22,063

Summary: Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.

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jamaisjoons:

⟶ :〝 the last thing jimin had anticipated when he’d followed you into the room of requirement was to find you, the demure little head-girl, in front of the mirror of erised. moaning his name. 〞hogwarts au. pwp au.

❥ : slytherin head-boy!jimin x hufflepuff head-girl!reader

❥ : mild angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ : 29k

⟶ : hard dom!jimin, big cock!jimin, possessive!jimin, sub!reader, virgin!reader, female masturbation, mirror sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, teasing, minor thigh spanking, fingering, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, corruption kink, biting, orgasm denial, orgasm control, begging, pussy slapping, marking, object play? he teases her with a vibrating wand, praise, object insertion, clit spanking, crying, begging, overstimulation, clit torture, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, squirting, manhandling, spanking, minor anal play/teasing, power play/dnyamics, virgin sex, wet & mess sex, unprotected sex, once again jimin has a ᵖʰᵃᵗ cock, kneeling doggy style (kind of oath sex position), mild pain kink, rough sex, hair pulling, creampie, brief cum play

➵ /: sol writing a jimin au? truly, it must be a miracle,,,,, this really was supposed to only be a 5k commission,,, but i thot if i need to suffer and write for jimin,,,, perhaps i should suffer and write him an entire au with plot,, just like he deserves

⏤ commissioned by @opaljm​​ in exchange for a blm donation // beta read the these lovely people: @yeoldontknow​,@luffles424​,@peekaboongi​,@sunshinekims​,@inthecrescentmoonight​,@tricethecharm​,@jjungkooksthighs​,@dontaskshhhhh​ and @nervouskiwi​!!

⏤disclaimer: in order to ensure all characters are 18+, i’ve tweaked the hogwarts curriculum to include ‘apprenticeships’ and ‘masterships’, essentially wizarding equivalent of graduates/post-grad, and as a result, yn is 21 and jimin is 22!! // additional disclaimer: i know absolutely fuck all about tarot cards and readings and therefore thank you to the lovely @yeoldontknow​ for picking which cards to use as well as giving me the explanations/details of the reading!

⇥ this ones for all my kinky virgins out there, hope y’all stay freaks

Hidden in the private dorms of the Potions Apprentice Quarters, you sit on the floor in the common room. Large, arched windows litter one side of the room, charmed - just like the Great Hall’s ceiling - to reflect the weather outside of the castle. Though, unlike the Great Hall, the charm could be turned off at will - allowing a magnificent, if not eerie, view of the underwaters of the Black Lake and all of its creatures. Currently, the charm is off, and the lake’s murky waters cast a dark hue to the room, bathing everything with a dark-teal tinge. Dark, crushed-velvet curtains drape down from the ceiling, the velour fabric only adding to the ominous scene of the Black Lake.

Despite the dismally grim sight of the lake, the rest of the common room is pleasant, and homely - if a little cold. With the space shared by all Potion’s Apprentices, from years eight to ten, regardless of the house, the interior is decorated in shades of black and grey rather than Hogwarts House colours. Dark, almost black, wenge wood furniture litters the room: from the large beams that run across the ceiling - holding onto the chandeliers, to the towering bookcases that fringe one wall of the room - brimming with rare potion tomes; as well as the glass-lined cabinets that cluster one corner of the room - teeming with vials and flasks of all sorts of potioneering ingredients.

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