BTS scenario/reaction - Sex/Sexual acts while one is asleep
Warning: blowjobs, sex with the unconscious, consensual sex, female oral, fingering.
Smut under the cut
Namjoon
It was clear you had tried to wait for him but they’d been delayed
You’d fallen asleep in sexy lingerie
A book by your side and reading glasses askew on your face
Mouth ajar with a little drool
You still looked undeniably sexy all dressed up or rather down for him
He placed your book to the side careful to keep your page
He slipped the glasses away desperate not to wake you before having a little fun
You had had an agreement for a long time that he could touch you however and whenever he liked provided there was no safe word used.
He turned you gently onto your back and spread your legs wide enough for him to lie in between
He slides your panties out of the way and flattens his tongue against your folds
You start to stir as he sucks on your clit and pumps one finger into you
“Hi Jagi, sorry I’m late.”
You don’t get a chance to respond before he is diving back in to make you moan for him
Seokjin
The clingiest man when he comes back from tour
Wants to do everything with you and for you
Cockwarming was something you did a lot during this time
An extra layer of intimacy you could share
Working from home, watching TV, playing video games
However this is the first time you’ve tried whilst asleep
Cuddly sleepers anyway it made sense
Until you’re awoken by his thrusts
Once you figured out what was actually happening you couldn’t help but be turned on
Jin was still asleep
Some wet dream being lived out in real time
You roll so he is on his back
Riding him through the dream and kissing his bare chest until he comes to
He doesn’t open his eyes, but you know the moment he wakes as his thrusts go from shallow languid rolls to deep forceful jolts
“What a wonderful way to wake up” he murmurs after finishing
Yoongi
You worked out early on in the relationship the best way to wake Yoonig up and not have to deal with a grump was a blowjob
He’d worked through the night again
Fast asleep his mixing desk
You squeeze yourself into the space underneath the table and unzipped his shorts
It’s so routine now that you can free him without him so much as stirring
You pump your hand along his hardening length before leaning in to kiss the tip
His breathing hitched as you tongued his slit his eyes flickering at the sensation
You could tell he was close to consciousness when he started to moan
His hands laced into your hair just as you took the last inch down your throat
“Good morning, Princess” his voice was still heavy with sleep
The sound mixed with the way he was petting your hair made you moan around his cock
Moments later he came undone deep down your throat.
Hoseok
Hobi was awoken by all your wriggling
At first he thought you were having a nightmare…
Until you moaned his name
He pulled back the covers to reveal your hand inside your pjs trying to provide some relief
Being the wonderful caring boyfriend he is, he thought he should lend a hand
He carefully removed your hand chuckling a little as you whimpered change your nose at the loss of friction
He cuddled close nibbling your ear lobe as his hand replaces yours
Your features straighten out again when he applies pressure to your clit
He whispers dirty words in your ear to influence your dreams
Dirty girl, so needy for me even in your dreams
Gonna come for me without even knowing
So wet for me
You mumble back “For you.” And Hobi has to check that you’re still asleep
You are
He gets more daring leaving his thumb on your clit and sliding his index finger through your folds dipping it inside
He thrusts the digit shallowly
Enjoying the little ‘o’ your mouth forms when he plays with a second finger
Every noise you make his music to his ears
He keeps his eyes on your face
Adding a third finger inside and curling each one as you stretch
The only change in you is the pleasure on your face
You cum in your sleep and Hobi isn’t sure he has ever seen anything sexier
He pulls his hand away and licks it clean taking note of how heavy a sleeper you are
Jimin
You awaken from your nap very disorientated feeling the heat pulling in the pit of your stomach and hands kneading your spread thighs
You can’t help the scream you release when you see the dark head of hair between your legs Jimin’s face peaks up smirking at you, lips covered in your cum
“Fucking hell Chim! You scared the fuck outta me” You half heartedly smack the side of his head
He was blonde when he left this morning
“Sorry baby. I’ll make it up to you.” He winks before reattaching his plump lips to your clit and sucking like his life depended on it
Two fingers scissor inside you
You’re not sure how long he’s been going at it but judging by the knot pulling in your stomach you wouldn’t need to go for much longer
The orgasm shudders through you
Thoroughly fucked out and oversensitive you hear the sound of a zipper
“My turn” he chimes lining himself up and you groan loving the overstimulation so soon
Taehyung
He woke so needy and desperate
In his half-asleep state he does the only logical thing
He put his leg across your sleeping body and starts using you for relief
You wake up when it starts to feel like you’re on a boat
You are unsurprised to find Tae with lidded eyes rolling his hips against your leg impatiently waiting for you to wake up
He has a way of asking for what he wants with actions and not words
You roll your eyes as he nudges into your arm
His boxy smile lights up his face when you agree
You rollover pressing your bum into him having forgone panties in favour of a long T shirt
He fingers you slowly for a while the motion relaxing enough to lull you back into a shallow sleep
Once he’s satisfied with your stretch, he hooks your leg over the top of him and lines himself up to you and rocks gently, finally content
Jungkook
It starts as a drunken bet between friends with benefits
“I bet I could make you cum in my sleep” he sounds so cocky
“But wouldn’t I be doing all the work? That would make you a glorified sex toy Hun.”
“OK, I bet I could make you cum in your sleep then”
“Without me waking up?.. You’re on”
Weeks go by and you forget but he doesn’t, plotting his time
You’d fallen asleep on his sofa after movie night and everyone else had already gone home
Through all the guys talking (and him accidentally hitting your head against the door frame when he moved you to bed)
It was now or never
He was careful removing your jeans scared to lose he hates losing
He starts tentatively rubbing your clit and watching your face for every reaction
The longer it goes on the braver he gets
Pinching your clit
Watching his index finger into you and feeling for the spot he knows drives you crazy
Your eyes flutter but you stay asleep
Finally he peels his gaze from your face to the matter hand
Just seeing how what you are for him gets him ridiculously wound up
All caution thrown to the wind as the blood from his brain go southbound
He slotted himself between your legs
Lapping hungrily at the juices
Diving his tongue in when he needed more
He ground himself against the bed seeking friction
Two fingers in
Sucking desperately at your clit
He felt you start to tense, a sign you’re as close as he had managed to get himself
He came in his pants as he felt you release on his face
Panting for breath he was a little relieved that you haven’t seen how easily he’d come all over himself…
BTS Reaction to your pregnancy test finally coming back positive.
Warning: Vomit (Morning sickness)
Namjoon
He waits anxiously in the living room as you take the test, wringing his hands.
When you don’t come out after 15 minutes he starts to worry and goes to find you
You’re sobbing on the floor when he walks in
Immediately he is at your side telling you it’ll be okay you can try again
You’re crying too hard to tell him, so you hand him the test and he freezes his soothing motions
Tears well in his eyes as you watch for his reaction
Suddenly you’re being lifted off the floor and carried towards your bedroom he lays you down carefully, but he doesn’t let go.
His hands trail down your sides and lift the hem of your shirt.
He leans down and presses hundreds of kisses into your tummy as you giggle, trying to wriggle away from your husband’s affectionate assaults
Seokjin
You find out while he is on tour
There’s only a month left so you don’t tell him
He would only want to fly home immediately and there’s nothing for him to do yet
Hiding from him is torture when he checks in everyday and all you want is to spill the secret and see the joy on his face of finally…
But you know it’ll be worth it
He comes home to string flower petals leading to your closed bedroom door
He opens it to find a tray of goodies laying out for him and a jewellery box with a note that says ‘find me waiting in the bathroom’
He doesn’t open the box too eager to see you after so long he takes the box and heads straight for you
He is more than confused to find you sat on the closed toilet lid in a fluffy bathrobe instead of in a bubble bath like he was usually greeted with
You roll your eyes and gesture to the unopened box he still looks very confused at the little white stick displayed under new cufflinks that read “daddy”
Eventually you just stand letting the robe fall to display your rounding belly.
The shock finally hits him, and he sweeps you into his arms, cradling you close with one arm, the other hand on your stomach.
Yoongi
You are out shopping with your little boy
Daddies black card burning a hole in your pocket as you treat the birthday boy
You’d just finished lunch when the overwhelming urge to vomit hit
The next three days you struggled to keep anything down
Yoongi eventually convinces you to go to the hospital even though you think he’s being a bit dramatic for a stomach bug.
The news you are six weeks pregnant hits you like a truck after what the doctors told you last time
It’s one of the few times Yoongi lets you see him cry off stage.
Hoseok
It’s a joke when he says “maybe you’re pregnant” after developing a weird craving for spray cheese on salt and vinegar crisps
This wasn’t even that weird
You laughed
It’s not exactly out of character for you to try weird food combos
Except spray cheese is disgusting
You still feel a little silly when you go out to buy the test
Lo and behold the little plus mark appears and you are left in shock
Fully on autopilot you walk into your kitchen test in hand
Hobi looks up confused, glancing at your outstretched hands and makes one of those noises only he can
He sweeps you off your feet and dances you around the kitchen pulling you out of your shellshock.
Jimin
You’d never seen someone so excited yet so close to an obvious breakdown
There are 30 swatches of paint on the wall of the spare room by the end of the week
Trying to remind him that if there is still 32 weeks to go does not slow down the process
He enlists the boys while they have time off because he is worried he won’t be around to help as much when their schedules pick up again
Every detail is run by you before it’s placed in the nursery
And he has a baby shower party planned long before your second scan.
Taehyung
The moment the at home test comes back positive Tae has booked you in for a hospital scan
You sit in the private hospital room twitching as you wait for the ultrasound technician to come in
Taehyung squeezes your hands reassuring you after so many negatives and false starts
This time feels different though
Eventually the doctor comes in and you lie back ignoring the discomfort that comes with a transvaginal ultrasound
It was early on and you needed to be sure
The doctor’s brows furrow and you steal your nerves for the news that it was another false alarm
“Are you prepared for the possibility of multiple births?”
Taehyung can’t contain his excitement head whipping to look at your pale complexion
The doctor doesn’t get to say triplets before you’ve blacked out
You thought you were around 12 weeks and starting to show
Nope! Six weeks and very bloated
Jungkook
Five nights into your private luxury yacht honeymoon you are vomiting over the side of the rails while your very confused half naked husband watches on
You’re taken to the doctor at the next port
You laugh when he suggests pregnancy you’ve only been off birth control for a month now
Everyone said it would take forever and you’d already waited for so long
Turns out the universe just didn’t want you living in sin
They did several tests
Each positive
You do wish the little bean could have waited to make you sick when you weren’t living on a boat for a month
You cut the trip short
But JK already had you rebooked for six months after the due date for your first family holiday
I don’t know what this is honestly… @stealth-liberal and I were having a conversation about the fact that pineapples don’t actually make anything sweeter and now I’ve written this.
Maknae line x reader - Jungkook centric
Warnings: Male!Oral
It was quiet in the dorm…. Too quiet.
The elder members had all left for the day on a variety of different projects, leaving you and the maknae line behind. All morning you’d done nothing but laze around on Hobi’s bed where he’d left you, more than a little sore after last night. You were just thinking about taking another nap when you heard them. Giggling… or more gurgling? You almost didn’t investigate. Nothing good ever comes from their giggles, especially when the hyungs aren’t around.
Curiosity got the better of you though. You hauled yourself out of the comfortable nest you’d made in Hoseok’s bed and cracked the door a little to see if you were going to be caught in a crossfire. Finding no projectiles, you forged onward. No boys to be found in the living room, and the laughter definitely hadn’t been coming from their rooms. The only place left was the kitchen
Just as you’re about to open the door you hear Jimin talking.
“I think we can fit more in those bunny cheeks of his Tae… don’t you?”
“I don’t know Chim, he looks a little… full.” You open the door tentatively, not sure you wanted to know how they’d decided to torture your baby today. The sight that greets you is not one you expect. You weren’t really sure what you expected but not this. Three pairs of wide eyes turn to face you, Jimin and Taehyung stepping in front of Jungkook to try to hide their latest experiment. They seemed to have forgotten he was taller than them.
“Why have you stuffed him full of pineapple?” It looked like they’d been trying the chubby bunny challenge, subbing the marshmallows with tropical fruit. You cross your arms, trying to look at least a little bit intimidating. None of them tried to answer you. Jungkook’s face was turning red from the strain they’d put on his cheeks. “Kookie spit that out.” His eyes widen impossibly wider as he shakes his head no.
“Good boy.” Jimin praises him.
“Seriously tell me what you’re doing, or I will call Joon” you threaten.
“Yeah? What do you think he is going to do about it?” Jimin challenges.
“Fine… I’ll call Yoongi.”
“We just wanted to know if it was true.” Tae finally answers you. You throw him a quizzical look, not quite catching his train of thought. “You know, the pineapple and cum thing?” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly unable to meet your gaze for a moment. You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
“And to do that, you decided that the best course of action was to stuff Jungkook’s mouth full?” You ask reaching forward and pushing his cheeks together just a little. A dribble of pineapple juice trails from the corner of his lips and you can’t resit the urge to scoop it onto your finger and taste it. “Don’t you think it would work better if he’d just eaten the fruit?”
“Well that’s part of the experiment. He eats it like that, Tae eats it normally, and I drink a load of juice.”
“Right of course, logical.” You shake your head. “And how are you going to test this theory?”
“We are going to blow one another.” Taehyung states, like it’s obvious.
“But won’t you all taste of pineapple? And how would you know who tasted the most pineappley?” They all deflate a little when you point out the flaw in their master plan. “Perhaps you just need an impartial judge?” You don’t give them time to process what you’re saying. Instead dropping to your knees and pulling the waistband of Jungkook’s sweats with you.
You fist the base of his cock, pumping carefully before leaning in to lick along his slit. He moans a little before choking on the pineapple still in his mouth. Jimin graciously pulls a plate off the counter for him to spit the half-chewed fruit on to, but his eyes don’t leave you. All three of them just staring at you. Once he is fruit free, you take him fully into your mouth. A string of curses leaves his lips as you reach the base, swallowing a few times before pulling back.
One hand reaches towards his balls, fondling them gently as your mouth slips back down his length. You gag a little as his hips jolt forward to meet you, and apparently that’s all it takes. Jungkook cums in you mouth, you draw back to make sure some of it gets on you tongue, displaying it for them before gulping it down and standing back up.
He reaches for your hair, but the others stop him. They hold his hands to his side, preventing him from obscuring their view. You look up and watch him squirm in their hold, desperate to take a little control, make you go deeper. You giggle around his cock, the vibrations making him whine and tense. It never takes long to get Jungkook riled up, not like this.
“Hum…. Doesn’t taste any different to me” you say, swiping your fingers at the corners of your mouth before sucking them clean. Each of their eyes followed the movement. “Maybe we will have to try when it’s been in your system a little longer. You give them each one last look over, chuckling at the obvious bulges straining against Jimin and Tae’s pants, before sauntering back off in the direction of Hobi’s room.
It takes each of them a moment to unfreeze.
“Y/N WAIT!” You hear, followed by three sets of feet thundering to reach you first.
This was meant to be a drabble…. Guess I’m doing some one shots too ♀️
Warning: teeniest mention of abusers in form of a spell to get revenge, nothing graphic
It had taken you a long time to find this ritual. Your college thesis was about cult followings and the use of romantic spells amongst young women. You had spoken to over 100 women about their relationship with the occult. Most that replied to your advertisement had dabbled in small spells, little love chants, and apple peal initials. A few however had mentioned the large tome that you had come in search of.
These women claimed that the magics this book contained were real, and dangerous. Because of this each one refused to tell you where they had found the unique grimoire, only telling you they no-longer had it in their possession. All their warnings did was intrigue you more. It took you weeks to track down a copy, which is why you are now sat in a tiny bookstore 3 towns over. You were the only customer in the building, and the elderly checkout clerk had barely looked up from the knitting she was working on when the bell on the door announced your entrance.
The occult section had its own room at the back of the store, volumes of texts stretched far above your head covering the walls. Luckily, the book you had come for stuck out against the rest. It was bound in black leather with a purple trim, a heart dripping blood was emblazoned on the side. In fact, it looked hauntingly real. You pull it off the shelf and place it on the table. Running your finger along the spine gives you a fierce electric shock.
First you open to a random page. ‘How To Skin A Man Alive’ the title reads, in graphic detail it explains what is needed in order to perform the ritual
1. The wrath of a woman abused
2. A weapon taken from him
3. Velvet ropes
4. A blindfold
5. An athame
You turn back to the index before reading the terrifying gore you are sure is about to follow.
The incantation you were looking for was to fix unrequited love. In your studies you had found this was the most common use of romantic magics in your target demographic. You find the spell quickly almost as if your finger was drawn to it.
‘How To Bring Them To You’ even for an ancient text this page was beaten up. The corners curled in and some of the diagrams were barely legible. Weirdly, the charm itself seemed to be in mint condition. To cast the spell, you only needed four candles and thoughts of your beloved. It was overwhelmingly simple, so simple you had to try. You found candles easily in a chest in the corner. You set them in the shape suggested on the page and committed the chant to memory. The problem with simple spells however is they can easily go awry from lack of focus. You gave to much attention to saying the words and not enough on the thoughts of your beloved.
You finished the verse and the flames went out, spooky but not cause for concern. Through your research you had found very little evidence of these things being anymore than an empty wish. You are scared out of your thoughts by the clearing of a throat behind you. A young man with an impish grin is stood in front of the door.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise anyone else was here, I was just playing around” you say sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck.
“Darling, don’t you know you shouldn’t play with magic?” a blush creeps up your face as he makes eye contact with you. There is a burning intensity behind his eyes that makes you want to go to him. “I’m Jimin, and I believe you called for me.” He laughs as confusion crosses your features. “Oh, silly girl, you didn’t pay attention did you, your thoughts weren’t clear enough and instead of summoning the one you want you summoned them… or well me” he moved forward placing his hands on your arms. The touch burns you in the best possible way, a small whimper escaping your lips. The noise seems to feed him, his eyes flash red for a moment before returning to the inviting chocolate that you had been staring into.
It feels like your body is moving of its own volition as you lean into the stranger. Everything about him is enticing his scent, his clothes, his pink plump lips… your eyes close as you go to kiss him. He obliges you with a lazy kiss. You let out a moan as his tongue snakes into your mouth. You jump in shock when you feel the forked split against your own tongue.
“I didn’t think it’d be this easy baby, some put up a little fight first, confusion is a terrible mood killer” he chuckles more to himself then to you. You are too hypnotised by his presence to fully comprehend his words; all you know is you want him. You go to kiss him again but he stops you “Now, now, dear we have plenty of time for that, first I need you to snap out of my thrall, it’s much more fun for me when the pleasure I inflict is all your own” He pinches your cheek roughly shattering the rose coloured fog it felt like you’d been stuck in. “Tell me, do you still want me?”
“Yes” there was no hesitation in your words. It was clear that this man was not human, but it was also clear that he was the hottest thing you had ever seen. Even without the thrall all you wanted was to taste more of his skin. He made no attempt to wait once the consent was out of your mouth. You were his now.
He pulled your clothes from you with no resistance and kissed down your stomach to your thighs. He pushed you back onto the chair you’d been sitting in when he materialised and spread your legs for access. His fingers slip straight up your slit gathering your arousal and using it to rub at your clit. The sudden roughness of his ministrations make you gasp, and you watch his eyes flit red again. He doesn’t take long to run his long tongue along your heat. The sensation makes you shiver as you melt into his touch. His long tongue finds its way inside you causing a new level of pleasure you had never experience. He fed off every moan that tumbled from your lips as he worked you closer and closer to your first orgasm. Your high is ripped from you unexpectedly as he pulls away and you whine at the loss.
“I’m sorry darling it’s so much better for me if we cum together” he reasons and pulls you from the chair. He backs you into a corner against the books and traps you there. Kissing you roughly this time, making you taste yourself in his mouth. His clothes had disappeared whilst you weren’t paying attention and he rubs himself against your entrance. He is big, you aren’t sure how big because he won’t let you pull away from his kiss, but the thought of him inside you scares you.
You don’t have time to fully realise your fear as he lifts you and lines himself up. The stretch burns and tears form in the corners of your eyes. He shushes you and strokes your hair soothingly with the hand he isn’t using to support you. The burn starts to ebb, and like he can sense the change he begins to move. Starting slow, the anticipation is almost unbareable but he can’t keep himself slow for long. He losses control and becomes feral. Your head bounces violently against the shelves as he chases his high. Still you can feel your orgasm approaching as your vision fades in the corners. He releases rope upon rope of hot sticky cum deep inside you and holds himself there for awhile as he recovers. His eyes slowly revert to brown as he comes down and he puts you back on your feet, making sure to hold you so you don’t fall.
“Sorry dear, I usually have more composure than that, but you are just so delightful” his tongue darts out and licks his lips “I’m so glad you’re mine now” You’re head shoots up at that
“what do you mean yours?”
“You brought me to you, now I get to keep you, that’s what you consented to” He shrugs acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world “I will see you soon my darling” he winks at you and with that disappears from the room.
A collection of soft scenarios with each of the BTS boys
Namjoon:
Imagine spending the day in a botanical garden somewhere. The day is overcast, but still warm. You’ve gotten to wear your favourite sundress or shorts for the first time in ages. Namjoon walks just a little ahead of you excitedly talking you through plants he recognises. He spent a while researching the plants he’d find just to impress you. Anything he doesn’t know he reads on the little plaques. He spends a little longer lingering around flowers that look like they are about to bloom just in the hopes of seeing the buds unfurl.
You’ve packed a picnic for the two of you to enjoy. Little cakes and sandwiches, homemade lemonade, and a couple packets of crisp all wrapped neatly inside of a blanket so you don’t have to perch on itchy damp grass. You eat quickly and lie back to admire the sky above you, clouds shifting just enough to allow little slivers of blue to peak through. One arm rests behind his head, the other curled behind you as you lay on his chest.
A perfect moment interrupted by one of the gardens loose peacocks getting a little too curious. The bird kept inching closer the longer you lay and eventually you had to move in order to keep your distance. Joon rolls up the blanket and puts it away into a bag before taking your hand to continue your tour. The afternoon carries on much the same as this morning, except this time Namjoon holds you close as you admire the array of flora. As you leave through the gift shop, he can’t help but pick up a new exotic plant as a challenge for himself, as well as a ‘paint your own pot’ kit for the two of you to complete together later.
Jin:
Imagine attending a cocktail making class. He gets mockingly jealous as you watch the attractive host a little too closely for his liking. He jokes about it for the rest of the evening, feigning hurt feelings. Each drink the two of you make comes with varying degrees of success, but regardless of aesthetic execution they taste delicious.
You get tipsier with each cocktail you are taught 6 drinks in total, but anyone watching would’ve thought you’d doubled it. You descend into maddened laughter at each pun and innuendo Jin throws your way, much to the chagrin of the other guests, who seem to have avoided tasting all of their drinks, saving them for the end. However the two of you decided they were all just being boring.
As the class comes to an end you are offered the opportunity to buy the recipe book and all of the ingredients used. Jin does so with no hesitation with the intent to replicate the fun you’ve had somewhere a little more private…
Yoongi:
Imagine visiting the 'That That’ set and getting to make fun of him with Psy. Watching him go from a producer role to co-star. Giggling with Psy as you two suggest more and more ridiculous cowboy options for Yoongi to wear.
Yoongi giggling every take so they have to shoot multiple times. You not helping the situation when your laughter becomes the loudest amongst the crowd.
Him taking off his cowboy hat and giving it to you in between filming so he can claim you as his. He makes sure you get to keep that hat when they wrap because you’ve become so attached to it.
Hoseok:
Imagine the most chilled out evening of your life. Both of you in sweats and oversized jumpers on opposite ends of the sofa. Your legs outstretched, he sits on your feet to keep them warm. A bowl of snacks rest on your legs for you both to be able to reach.
He sets up a series you had been wanting to watch together but had never found the time before now. You’ve set aside the whole night just to binge watch your way through as much as possible. When the snacks run out, Hobi moves the bowl and slides down in to your lap instead. You remain stretched across the sofa but he has wiggled into the space between the back and your legs creating a nook for himself.
A cold hand snakes under your sweater and lays innocently on your bare stomach as the two of you continue to watch TV for the rest of the night, falling asleep at some point midway through.
Jimin:
Imagine going to pick Jimin up from a dance practice. He is working on a solo piece for the new album, similar to serendipity but it’s a faster piece. Still his movements are just as fluid, he doesn’t miss a beat as he follows the rhythm across the room, too caught up to notice that you’ve come in yet. All of the boys move well, but there is a liquid quality that is uniquely Jimin’s, a quality that shines when he gets to put all of his energy into his own piece.
He eventually catches your eye in the mirror with a look that suggests he know you were there. Still his effort somehow increases, each move crisper, smoother. He crosses the studio to you and takes your hands leading you clumsily through an unprepared partner performance to a beat you’ve only heard through headphones until now. It’s hard to focus on his body and his voice despite how badly you want to be truly absorbed by both.
He laughs as you stumble, catching you every time your feet fail to keep up with him. He twirls you around long after the song finishes, filling the silence by humming new melodies. The boys from TXT eventually shuffle in sheepishly to claim the space they rented and you and Jimin bow deeply in apology. He takes your hand and leads you from the room.
Taehyung:
Imagine going to paint a pot. You both choose animal shaped money boxes. The idea to create something to save for your future together, even if its more symbolic than practical with the amount of money he makes. You give yours an ethereal garden theme, tiny flowers and vines wrapping around fur patterns in varying shades of green. Taehyung goes a little more abstract.
He paints in primary colours only. The fox he chose is covered in blue and yellow tiger stripes over a fire red base. Something that by all means should be ugly, looks like a masterpiece in his hands.
Each figurine take pride of place in his home, on the shelf next to the TV where everyone can see his most treasured possessions.
Jungkook:
Imagine attending a trampoline park. Watching Jungkook attempt more and more impressive flips from high platforms into foam pits, only to have to help him escape the foamy clutches when he gets stuck from diving too deep.
The two of you would compete to see who could jump the highest, who can do the best flip off the wall, who could do the most swivels. Any game he and you can come up with is played until your calves ache from the effort. Until he plucks you from the air, pushing you into a foam pit.
You can barely avoid him as he tries to jump in top of you, pouting as he realises you moved. Spending time trying to catch your breathes by lying back in the pit and watching the other couples and kids bounce past for a little while.
genre: fluff at the beginning, angst, deals with infidelity in detail (11.5k)
summary: do you think of love when the world is at your fingertips? or a story in which jimin dances on the dangerously thin line between love and obsession.
note: i do not mean to romanticize or glorify cheating in any manner, take this as a work of fiction only.
“we’ll announce the leads now, please come forward if your name is called, and if not, better luck next time” is a simple sentence really.
but your heart wrenched uncomfortably in your chest as you anxiously waited for the results. it was not like your entire life and career depended on those names.
you couldn’t stand still, neither could jimin as your hands wrung behind your backs and your weights kept shifting from one foot to another.
this is it.
this is what you worked and climbed ranks for, in the past two years.
you turned to the side to see jimin mirroring your expression, excitement danced in his eyebrows, but his lips stayed pursed, giving away how nervous he truly was. you couldn’t comfort him even if your hands reached him.
it felt all too familiar, jimin by your side, both of your palms sweaty as you wait for your fate to be recited to you.
‘the black swan’ was one of the hardest theatrical acts to get accepted into, only the absolute top and most talented even thought of auditioning here. once you are accepted, your future is secured, opportunities were expected to fall at your feet so everything is at stake here, especially the pride you both were cruelly robbed off when you first started.
“park jimin” you gasp and jump in your place when his name is announced, a huge grin growing on your face when you realize that jimin got the part he auditioned for; the black swan, the heart of the show.
you could see him trying to hold in his happiness, he still couldn’t scream, not with the officials in the same room and you couldn’t hug him either, so you just squeezed his hand and congratulated him in excited, hushed whispers. he can’t help but smile sheepishly at the floor at how much more excited you look than him and sends a silent thanks to the universe.
but his face immediately falls when he notices how they’ve reached the end of the list and your name didn’t get called.
he turns to look at you with concerned eyes, knowing in his heart how much you wanted this and how hard you worked for it, he isn’t surprised to see the disappointment instantly wash over your face.
everyone starts to leave, some crying, some buzzing with excitement. jimin was just worried because even though you don’t look sad, you wouldn’t look at him as you make your way through the crowd and outside the building, and he follows wordlessly.
he does not know what to do as you sit in the car with your gaze downwards, he knows that any words of comfort would just fall to deaf ears because jimin understood, better than anyone, what this audition meant to you. so, when you curl up on the bed still without uttering a word, jimin knows that he can’t just watch you suffer from your thoughts.
your gaze follows his movements as he gets into bed too, and you almost immediately crumble, reaching for him with desperate hands. he tears up when he hears your sobs against his chest.
this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, you both were supposed to get in together.
the plan was always supposed to do this together, like everything else you have done to this point.
“i-i’m sorry i’m crying like this when i’m supposed to be h-happy for you, i am happy for you jimin, and i’m so unbelievably p-proud. you, of all people, deserved to get that role” you whimper, feeling horrible for dampening his mood along with yours. “don’t be silly, you don’t have to hide how you truly feel, not in front of me.” jimin whispered, caressing your hair as your teardrops continued to soak the pillows.
for a moment, your sobs are the only sound in the room, jimin chooses to remain silent and just stay close to you, but then the piercing shrill of your phone startles you both.
jimin reaches for it, shrugging when there’s no name, and hands it to you. you sit up straight before clearing your throat and answering the call. “hello?” your voice remains surprisingly steady for someone who’s been crying their heart out and jimin just watches as your eyes go wide and your face morphs into a big smile, your hand flies up to your mouth, your eyes darting to him several times as you continuously thank the person on the other line before ending the call and looking at him with renewed energy.
“jimin, you won’t believe this” you shout excitedly as you jump to go next to him, he lets out a small chuckle and gathers you in his arms at your sudden change in mood and bouncing energy, and waits for you to speak. he is more than relieved to see the change in your mood. “what is it babe?” he rubs his fingers over the back of your hand.
“you know the ‘nutcracker’ play, right? the one sponsored by that big studio in france? well, they just called me and they want me to be the senior director for the show! they saw my audition at ‘black swan’ and wanted me to be a part of their play” jimin’s mouth drops open at your words with both joy and awe, being the senior director was something very few actual dancers were offered to be so if they were willing to give you that role, they must have bet a lot on you.
they were not going to regret all this faith they put in you, jimin was very sure of that much.
“see, i knew you would get there, one way or another.” he smiles widely that your hard work was paying off. “but it’s not together” you pout because you and jimin have always been a pair, it is one of the rare sentiments you have developed over the years. “i know, i wish you were my white swan” he sighs as he rubs circles into your hands, “there’s always next time?” you offer with a small smile and he nods, agreeing with you. “next time.”
in the past, even if you weren’t partners for the actual dance, you both were always somehow involved in the same act, either as the choreographer or part of the crew, you just were always in each other’s presence but that wasn’t the case now.
“i’m so excited” you sigh dreamily, just imagining how fun and new it would be to become a director. “i’m sure you’ll excel at it, as you do in so many other things” he kisses your forehead and you resist the urge to bury yourself into him. “i couldn’t have done it without you” you whisper back to him and jimin swears he feels his heart burst at your words, “i wouldn’t have even danced without you” he whispers back to you.
-
jimin takes a deep breath as he walks up to the large, fancy building where he would practice as the black swan. he walks in with confidence, knowing that he’s done his research on what his role entailed and which way he would have to transform for it.
upon entering, he is immediately whisked away to a dancing room with ceilings as high as the sky, he noted that the floor was also polished just enough for him to glide without having to stutter in his step. it’s every dancer’s dream practice room.
“ah there he is, the star of the show” a man, who would soon be revealed as the director of the show, hollers loudly when he sees jimin looking around the room. jimin breaks into a shy grin and the choreographer takes the time to introduce him to everyone involved in the play.
“and our other star, park hyejin, she’s the white swan, also your partner, you both will be working closely with each other so get comfortable, yeah?” the man winks at them as hyejin and jimin bow with a polite smile to each other. “i’ve heard a lot about you mr. park, i’m excited to work on this with you” she compliments jimin who humbly brushes it off with a sheepish smile.
when she looks away, jimin subtly notes how elegant hyejin looks, even without seeing her dance, he just had a feeling that her body lines were always flawless and her posture reflected the prima ballerina she was.
she reminded him of you, a perfect blend of determination and softness was shared in your faces.
he reluctantly looks away and laughs to himself a little, a few moments away from you already had him thinking everything was about you.
but jimin could have never guessed why he actually couldn’t look away from hyejin.
-
by the time jimin gets home, you’re already cooking dinner and dancing around in the kitchen with some jazzy 80’s song playing softly in the background. all of today was great but you are the true light in his day.
he wishes you always looked like this, so full of life and bursting at the seams with happiness.
“i’m home” he announces in a soft voice, face immediately brightening when you throw him backward with a hug. “how was your first day? were you nervous? how were the other dancers? the directors weren’t overbearing, right?” your barrage of questions tumble over each other and jimin just smiles fondly. “well, i can tell you everything if you let me babe.” he teases with a peck to your nose, and you purse your lips with a nod.
“it couldn’t have been better, like you won’t believe how huge their practice rooms are, just imagine our first ever practice room ever and multiply that by ten” he starts, you gasp at his description and patiently listen to every second of his day that he didn’t spend with you.
nor he or you notice that he leaves out the part about his stunning partner.
-
the next day jimin walks into practice, he is taken aback when he sees that hyejin is already stretching in the studio, she lifts her head at his presence and goes up to him. “good morning, mr.park.” he can’t help but feel a little shiver at her smooth voice, he also couldn’t help how his eyes travel across her poised body. now that she wasn’t wearing a flowy dress, her dance practice outfit didn’t leave a lot to the imagination.
he quickly looks away and he doesn’t bother telling her to be informal with him like he usually does with all his partners.
everything about her was so elegant, so put together, that jimin felt intimidated. he isn’t used to having such a qualified partner. not that he minded or anything, he was just always the more experienced one during acts he’s done in the past.
who was jimin to judge anyone’s qualifications anyway?
he greets her as well as he sets his bag down. he thought he was early but clearly not early enough.
during practice, both jimin and hyejin turn red when the choreographer tells them how close they would have to be for the dance. for more than half of the dance, their bodies remain stuck to each other, it’s supposed to symbolize how thin the line is between the black and white swan.
the thin line between love and obsession.
as they get into position, every single one of jimin’s senses is clouded by hyejin, his eyes literally won’t stop darting across her face
she was just so…beautiful.
and she looked so much like you?
why did she look like you when she was in his arms?
the music starts but that isn’t what gets jimin to move, it’s like a mind instinct to follow hyejin’s movements. the second she starts twirling, he pushes his body to follow her, desperate hands just as the black swan reaches the white swan. they don’t break eye contact once and the entire room feels heavy, heavy with their breaths, heavy with the tension growing between them, and for a second, it felt like it was only her and him in the room.
jimin hasn’t feel that way with anyone but you.
“i think you should be closer” hyejin whispers into his ear, with her hand wrapped around the back of his neck, and jimin freezes in his position, he thought they were impossibly close already.
he doesn’t think she’s just talking about the dance.
with a tedious scan of her from head to toe and then meeting hyejin’s sparkling eyes, he follows her anyway, his grip tightening on her waist and she hums in approval.
she sounds like you too.
this feels wrong.
this is wrong.
they start moving again, and jimin just flows with her, just like how he flows with you.
she’s not you but jimin can’t tell the difference between holding you and her. she feels the same, looks the same, sounds the same, and moves her body the same way.
but she’s not you.
a voice screams in his head that the woman in his arms is not the woman waiting for him at home.
“that was perfect, bravo to our swans!” the loud holler from the choreographer freezes jimin once again, face so close to hyejin that he can feel her breath on his face, steady and hot and for a minute, they don’t move. they don’t hear the rousing applause around them, their feet stay glued as they stare at each other and it isn’t until another loud noise around them that he pulls away from her, almost pushing her away from him because jimin doesn’t understand this feeling crawling on his chest.
why did she look like you?
why did she feel like you?
why do his eyes follow her as she walks away to leave for the day?
he doesn’t realize how hard he’s panting until his body starts to bend forward from how tired he feels.
he’s been with partners for dance before, but none were hyejin. he never had to remind himself that you were at home, waiting for him to come back, he never had to remind himself that you were in his life. he never had to actively think of you before, you were just always on his mind.
in a loving, dizzy haze, jimin somehow always felt secure that you were there in his life.
but now, felt scarily different to jimin.
because he didn’t think of you individually even once, not during the whole practice, not when hyejin got unnecessarily close to him sometimes.
he only thought of you when he found traces of you in the woman holding onto him for dear life.
and jimin almost hates it when he enjoys being so close to hyejin, he almost hates how his body jumps to be just as close to her, he would’ve fully hated it if it weren’t for how sweetly she smiled at him each time their eyes would meet.
jimin also hates that he finds himself smiling back at her.
-
you are more than buzzing with energy as you start your first day as a senior director, everyone was so welcoming and warm to you. knowing your experience, they didn’t question any of your suggestions. most of them immediately tried to see if it would pan out and put it into action, and it felt good to work in such a respectable and comfortable environment.
“the dancers should do a different formation for act 2, the same formation looks uninteresting. so try a newer formation, one that is fresh to the eyes, and let me know if there’s something i can help with” you instruct the choreographer who agrees and puts forth his ideas on how that can be improved.
you realized that you liked being behind the camera and below the stage just as much as you like being on it, and looking at the huge stage in front of you reminds you of one person; jimin.
who would’ve known that both of you would grow up to do what you’re doing now?
the ‘you’ from five years ago would have given everything and anything just to get a peek of the stage that you were now directing.
it made you feel warm, that all your pain and hard work didn’t get thrown into a ditch and you definitely couldn’t have done it without jimin.
your eyes stay teary as you drag your feet out of the audition room. it didn’t go well.
you got rejected, to put it nicely. but thoughts of what they said circle your mind in a taunt, ‘you have no talent at all, why did you even think of getting on that stage?’ it was humiliating, a punch to all the practice you did for the audition, a punch to the passion you so strongly held onto since you started dancing.
a soft hand grabs yours making you look up, jimin stands there with his lips set in a grim line and an evident furrow in his eyebrow.
you didn’t have to ask him to know that he got rejected too either.
you both look at each other for a second before crashing into a hug, heaving sobs leaving both your lips as you desperately grab onto him. his hands dig into your sides but nothing hurts more than being denied from something you thought you had.
how did both of you get rejected?
why was nothing ever enough?
you lean back from his face to wipe at his tears and hold onto his cheek, “we’ll get through this, yeah?” after he doesn’t respond, you get worried that your friend truly thinks there’s no hope left. “at 4, meet me in the school’s practice room, let’s practice till no one can say no to us” you say and leave him by himself.
morning comes slowly, and everyone is sound asleep when you slip into the dead night, jimin is already stretching lightly but his eyes are downcast as you approach him.
“it’s only our first rejection and i have a feeling that if we want to continue this, we have to be ready for much worse.” you say softly as you start stretching next to him, his arms fall beside him as he takes in a sharp breath. “i don’t think i can take anymore….maybe i should just stop here” you can tell it’s just his train of thought as he mumbles this but it stuns you that jimin would even think of leaving dancing behind over one rejection.
“are you sure? because you and i both know that you shine the brightest when you’re on stage, dancing your heart out” jimin on stage is a sight to behold, the way he tip-toes and catches the attention of everyone in the auditorium with a simple turn, was no easy feat and you couldn’t let him give up on it.
“it’s hard, i understand, i do. but i’m not letting you give up here, this isn’t the last audition you’re going to take and this is sure as hell, not the last time you’re getting on a stage” your words are stern but filled with warmth, they are directed to you and him. you can’t let him give up and you can’t give up either. jimin is grateful that you’re his friend as he passes by you and presses play on the music.
“you’re right, you always are” he mumbles with a chuckle and you smile with him. he reaches for your hand, giving it a light squeeze and you tighten your grip too.
“let’s prove all of them wrong” you move into position, “together?” he asks, breaking his position to look at you, “who else would it be?” you answer with a smile.
that was six years ago, that was when jimin was still just your friend, but with long hours of practice combined with celebrating your victories and failures together, you were bound to fall in love with him at some or another point. and he was always in love with you.
it was over a couple of bottles of soju and beer after the first time you two got roles in a local theater play, that he confessed to you in a dreamy, drunken haze. you still laugh at how quickly he sobered up when you said you felt the same way.
as you watch the dancers do their routine in a fresh new way, your mind subconsciously drifts to think about jimin and how he must be doing.
you were sure he was doing alright; it was jimin after all. if anyone could fully embrace the role, it was him.
-
contrary to your beliefs, jimin was struggling quite a bit.
it had already been three weeks since they started practicing and this week had been pure torture for jimin. as it turns out, hyejin was the perfect dancer, not that jimin thought otherwise but he didn’t expect himself to not be able to catch up with her. she practiced for hours on end, her body never faltered or missed a beat, while jimin had pretty good stamina himself, his body would give up on him from time to time.
and even if it were minor challenges, the nervousness that comes with starring in one of the biggest drama productions along with the need to stack up to hyejin now, was slowly building on him in a way he wasn’t sure he could handle anymore.
not to mention, he was still trying to navigate through this unusual feeling he had around hyejin, he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since that day, how close they were, how that closeness repeated every day with her. and after tossing and turning for nights on end, he put a label to what he felt for her while you slept peacefully beside him.
he felt attracted to her.
the kind of attraction that was so magnetic, so strong that it made him angry. he was angry that she pulled a move like that on him when she was well aware of his relationship with you.
but.
but jimin wasn’t out of the woods yet either, he not only reciprocated whatever she did, but he also didn’t do anything to dodge or discourage it. if anything, he encouraged her to advance further.
hyejin was slowly proving to be the root of all of his problems.
he sat down in the corner of the dance room after everyone had left, he recalls the disappointment flashing on the directors’ faces every single time he missed or skipped a step, and it placed a stone in his heart.
it wasn’t easy, trying to understand his own feelings while pushing his body to go further and do better.
he can’t lose this role; he can’t give up here but his body and mind are screaming at him to slow down.
he thought that if he got this role, everything would be perfect. he would work on getting a dance studio of his own, run it with you, propose to you and have a family with you, it was all mapped out in his mind.
but he didn’t think that just getting the role won’t help, he’s going to have to fill in the shoes of one of the biggest roles in the industry.
he was foolish enough to think he wouldn’t have to put in too much work to fill them out.
and he didn’t expect whatever was going on with him and hyejin, not even in his wildest dreams.
you were always his ride or die, someone, he could never forget and he hated himself for even looking at someone else through tainted eyes.
he can’t go further with hyejin, not even if it’s maddening to ignore the desires itching at his heart.
his thoughts are interrupted when a soft hand is placed on his shoulder, jimin doesn’t have to turn around to know that it’s hyejin.
“are you okay?” her tone is just as soft as her touch, and jimin looks at her with a bored face, his problems could have never looked more beautiful. “did you forget something?” his rude tone isn’t lost on her but she sits down beside him, which confuses jimin.
“it was hard for me too” she starts and jimin scoffs, he couldn’t believe that she was lying straight to his face. he had seen her practice and she never showed any signs of struggling. “i dance the way i do because i have put in precious time into it” she continues and jimin straightens up to listen to her. “the amount of practice i do, is punishing for my body. i held onto that harsh realization for a while but without punishing it, i can’t do better than i already am.”
it’s grim, love and passion just aren’t enough if you want to pursue your art. there’s always a price that comes with doing what you love.
his respect for hyejin skyrockets as she explains how she dances the way she does, but that’s quickly turned to dust when he remembers that he wouldn’t be this miserable if she wasn’t his partner.
didn’t she feel even the slightest bit of guilt for whatever she was doing?
she knew he was a taken man after all.
“that’s insightful, thanks” jimin’s reply is dry and he looks away after that, he fully expects her to scoff in his face and walk away so imagine his surprise when she giggles at him.
he cocks his eyebrow at her, waiting for her to explain what’s so hilarious about his clear frustration. hyejin sighs with a soft smile before turning to fully face jimin. “come on” she extends her hand to him and he looks at it questioningly, hyejin doesn’t wait for an answer as she takes his hand in hers and pulls him up.
again, jimin tries to convince himself that he doesn’t like it but he does nothing to move away or take his hand back.
“we will practice together and only go home when we can’t move a muscle” hyejin announces, letting his hand go to fix her ponytail and she smiles widely when jimin keeps his hand open for her to take again with a dumb look on his face. “don’t worry about meeting anyone’s expectations for now, just focus on me and the music, you have it in you jimin, you just have to believe your talent here.” jimin melts at her words.
you.
you used to talk to him this way whenever he was down.
oh my god, you.
what is he doing?
for that one second, you are everywhere in his mind, every nook and cranny of his brain crowds with thoughts of you and jimin feels unsteady again, but with one more tug from hyejin, everything he knows about you disappears just as quickly.
when they get close again, she isn’t the first one to smile this time, he already has a budding smile on his lips and it gets wider every second he holds her close to him. once again, they’re face to face and jimin sees you in her.
his grip falters as her grip tightens, her hands leaving his arms to caress the back of his neck before subtly bringing his ear close to her lips.
“we could be bigger together, everyone would die to have us in their show, we could do so much together, just imagine the sheer volume of applause they would shower us with,” she whispers to him and jimin listens like a snake to a snake charmer, he can only hear her.
together.
he believes in together, but that was with you.
you and him were supposed to be big together.
jimin looks at the floor, his arms loosening almost completely from hyejin and she frowns.
why couldn’t he see what she saw for them?
why couldn’t he see that he wouldn’t go too far with you? that with her, he could have the world laying itself in front of him? that together, they could run the industry without lifting a finger?
her last words to him have him convinced, she says it slow, she says it like the challenge she is and jimin finally lets himself say fuck it as he pulls her towards him, he knows from the smirk on her face that she doesn’t feel guilty at all, she rather enjoys it.
but jimin is no better when he matches her smirk.
“don’t fight what you feel for me jimin, you won’t win.”
it was the most perfect practice jimin had ever had.
-
that day, jimin stumbles into your home, feeling disoriented among other things. he can’t believe himself, he can’t believe his behavior, the only thing he’s grateful for is that nothing went beyond some groping.
but he shouldn’t be, that’s a pathetic thing to be grateful for. and it wasn’t innocent groping either, he knew he had done and fucked up everything.
“you’re home!” your cheery voice from a distance makes his step stutter, his heart resting unsettled and forming a dull ache.
how could he do this to you?
his face almost betrays him when you come into view. your smile is huge as you skip towards him, he guesses you had another successful day at work and his heart blooms with pride.
you have always been so good at everything you do, very much like hyejin in that sense.
no, no.
hyejin is like you when it comes to working only, you aren’t like hyejin in any sense though, you wouldn’t play with jimin’s feelings and mind the way hyejin did.
you look so happy, so oblivious to what he’s done and jimin doesn’t feel like he deserves to even look at you at that moment.
but he can’t be too obvious so he accepts your open arms and cheek kisses with a forced, broad smile on his face even if everything in him feels heavy with guilt.
“i got out of set early today, we only had minor things to take care of but you won’t believe how well everything is coming along. oh, and what is that you’re holding?” you grab the plastic bag hanging off his hands, immediately being greeted by the smell of your favorite food; wonton soup and tempura shrimp.
jimin couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done, so bringing you your favorite food was a very underwhelming way to reassure himself that your relationship will be okay.
you squeal happily, taking the bag into the kitchen and thanking jimin a million times over your shoulder, telling him that you were just getting worried about dinner and that he’s your savior in a silly tone. jimin follows your steps, head hung low because again, you have no clue about what he’s done but he does. he remembers it all too well and has the very sudden urge to wash hyejin’s touch off his skin, but it will be in vain.
“don’t fight what you feel for me jimin, you won’t win.”
“jimin!” he hears loudly, his head snapping up to meet your worried eyes. “are you okay, my love?” you approach him with a slight pout on your lips, and jimin gulps when you hold his hands in yours. “you’ve been awfully quiet, is everything alright?” the soothing circles you draw on his skin and your downturned eyes filled with love, only drown in his heart in more sorrow.
he wishes he could tell you; he wishes he could cry into your arms and beg for forgiveness because jimin doesn’t know what else to do, he doesn’t know who else to go to.
with no response from him, you assume that he’s had a bad day at practice, he usually put himself through a lot of self-doubt and hate whenever he messed up during practice. “let’s eat dinner, yeah? and then we can watch your favorite animated movie, boss baby, would you like that?” he lets a small smile slip at the mention of his comfort movie and you take that as a sign to guide him to the dinner table with you.
as you start eating, you remind him that your anniversary is soon when you gush about these new cakes you two should try out this time and jimin feels sick to the stomach that he forgot about your precious anniversary which was approaching soon, it was always such a big deal for you both.
he might not spend another anniversary with you.
you fill him in on every detail from your play, that everything’s going great, the crew are incredible and responsive to your ideas and vision. jimin lets himself forget about what he did as he listens to you narrate things to him with the most excited look on your face.
“oh speaking of dancers, you never told me what your white swan is like” you innocently shove a forkful of food into your mouth, completely missing the way jimin’s fork falls on his plate with a thud.
he was not expecting that and he suddenly felt like the air around him got hard to breathe, how is he supposed to tell you what his white swan is actually like?
“she’s..alright” he offers with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant.
correction, trying to act like he didn’t kiss her.
you raise your eyebrows at him, clearly with no clue as to why he’s so unenthusiastic to talk about his partner. “is she giving you a hard time or something?” jimin almost lets out a mocking laugh at that sentence, that was one way to put the absolute hell she was putting him through.
but he quickly comes to the grim realization that she only put him through what he allowed her to.
it’s on him.
"no, she’s good at what she does.” she’s good at making me forget that i have to come home to you.
his short and dry responses mildly frustrate you but you don’t say anything, not wanting to make his day worse with your questions.
“jimin, are you sure everything’s okay?” you whisper to him when you’re later cuddling on the couch with boss baby playing in front of you. your concern for him stays from hours ago but he does his best to give you his brightest smile.
“don’t worry about me, i’ll be okay.” you should start worrying about yourself, he bitterly thinks as he kisses your temple and holds you closer in his arms.
who knows how much longer you will stay in his arms?
-
“heading home early?” your set producer asks as you start to pack things up for the day, you grin and nod in reply, there was no way anything could make you hide how excited you were for today.
“now, what’s got you so happy?” the choreographer brushes past you with a teasing smile, “it’s me and my boyfriend’s 6th anniversary today” you reply, the smile on your face never faltering, “boyfriend as in park jimin, right?” you happily hum in response and then everyone on set including the dancers, who are supposed to be practicing, make it their mission to tease you.
someone yells about how he hasn’t put a ring on it after so long and even if you laugh it off, you really do wonder why jimin hasn’t proposed to you yet.
“alright, alright, i’m leaving for today. if you need anything, send me a message!” you wave all of them goodbye and get into your car, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered gently at the thought of spending the rest of the day with jimin. it’s been so long since you spent proper time with him, both of you got so busy with your own work that you barely spent three hours together on a daily basis.
but you were positive that you would make up for all the lost time today. on your way home, you picked up the decorations and food, it was a tradition that jimin would bring the cake and you hoped that he would bring your favorite.
as you start setting up the balloons and streamers, you turn to see the time, it was already half past 7. your face falls into a small frown because jimin should’ve been home by now, you always met up at 7 and finished decoration together.
however, you reasoned to yourself that practice probably kept him late and decided to have everything ready by the time he’s home.
that time never comes.
your heart slips with each passing second that he doesn’t show up, you sit in a pretty dress on your couch with a sick feeling churning in your stomach that something doesn’t feel right, your fingers nervously play with the necklace hanging on your collarbones as you wait.
it was already 10.
jimin wasn’t answering your calls or messages.
you lay on your side and watch the clock tick by, jumping at any sound to see if jimin was home or not, and every sound was anything but him. you felt tired as you watched the minutes pass by.
for the first time, you felt unsure about the faith and trust you’ve put in jimin, it was for a brief second that you questioned every single one of his actions leading up to today but you snap yourself out of it.
jimin would never do anything to hurt you.
right?
jimin rushes out of his car, slamming the door and hurriedly locking it as he adjusts his jackets and makes his way upstairs to your home.
fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
jimin’s internal panic rises with each second, he really doesn’t think he can go lower in life than this. he shoves the key in with more force than he intended and pushes the door open, almost stumbling over his own feet as he makes quick, hurried steps to the living room.
his eyes fall on you soundly sleeping on the couch, he breaths out a sigh and leans against where you’re sleeping and on instinct, starts brushing your hair back as he fondly watches your lips naturally being in a pout.
is he really willing to lose everything he has right now just for a future that he’s not sure will be there?
his hand drops against your hair when he takes in how the living room was decorated in a lively way, he purses his lips as his eyes wander around every detail that you have put so much heart into and jimin felt like he failed you.
he turns back to you as you stir in your sleep and eventually open your eyes. jimin notices the relief flood in your expression when you see him.
“you’re home” you mutter so quietly that if jimin didn’t strain to hear you, it would have sounded like gibberish.
“of course i am” he smiles uneasily which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you get up anyway and jimin follows your movements as you sit upright on the couch.
you used to be so sure, that no matter where jimin goes, he will come back to you but something about tonight destroys that belief to tatters. and you hate yourself for going so extreme over one night but you can’t ignore your gut instinct telling you that something was very wrong.
you turn to look at the time.
3:00 A.M.
it was way past the time you and jimin agreed to meet but you didn’t want to ask him why he was late, you expect him to tell you himself, he owes you that much. but jimin doesn’t say anything either and he doesn’t even look at your face as you try to meet his eyes.
“did you bring our cake?” it was a simple question but to you, it was asking him if he actually remembered anything about today.
when he gulps and further lowers his head, you have your answer. and that answer falls like a rock in your heart.
“do you even remember what today is?” your voice is tired and laced with irritation but you don’t speak loudly, you don’t want to fight with him.
please tell me you remember.
“happy….anniversary” he offers pathetically and you want to scoff in his face at his lame reply. you were so excited for today; you hadn’t stopped daydreaming about tonight since a week ago and all of that crumbled down in a second.
“anniversary’s over.” with that, you get off the couch with unshed tears and start clearing the glasses filled with wine from the table. jimin watches quietly, the only sounds in the air being your light sniffles and glasses clinking.
he feels like he should say something.
“i didn’t mean to forget about our day,” he starts and when you don’t look at him as he speaks, he continues with an unsure tone, “practice just got so hectic and we were learning all these new moves at once, they didn’t let me go even when i begged.”
lies.
all lies.
there was no practice today, the choreographer had fallen sick so they just went over routines they already knew and everyone was let go in the early evening.
and let’s be real, no practice lasts till 3 in the night.
you honestly would’ve believed jimin until he said the last part.
jimin never begs anyone, and he was the heart of the show, a highly qualified and decorated dancer, if he wanted to be let off for one day, you know that no one would dare to say no to him.
but you let him lie because you can’t press him for a truth that he’s not willing to give you.
you continue to remain silent, moving to the kitchen and sighing as your eyes fall on the food that’s now cold, and jimin sees it too as he follows you in. the guilt that subdued because of his almost convincing lie returned with a vengeance, all this food must have been hard to prepare and the atmosphere remains heavy as you slide the plates into a trash can with a grim expression on your face.
you can’t shake the feeling of something being wrong, you also can no longer hold back the tears that cascade down your face. jimin is quick to rush to your side, making you sit down and lean against him.
“can you at least promise me that you’ll be there for my play?” you whimper, as you hold onto his arm and jimin nods immediately while pulling you in for a hug.
even his hug feels off to you.
“of course, i will, where else would i be?”
where were you today?
the question is at the tip of your tongue, ready to be released but you don’t say a word, you pat his arm in a signal to release you, and jimin watches with sorrowful eyes as you retreat into your bathroom. once the door is closed, you sink down on the floor with your hand on your mouth to muffle your sobs.
you don’t fully get why you’re crying. you’re tired from running all day and getting things done as quickly as you could to reach home for an anniversary party that jimin didn’t even bother coming to, you felt pathetic for putting in all that effort for nothing.
on the other side of the door, jimin hears your whimpers with downcast eyes and raises his hand to knock and hold you all night. but he pauses with his hand raised halfway, he takes a deep breath before stepping away. he doesn’t think he deserves to comfort you after what he did today.
jimin slowly walks to the huge vanity mirror in your room and pulls down his turtleneck to inspect the dark, blooming red patches splattered on his neck and he hates them.
jimin can’t believe what he’s become.
he can’t believe what he let hyejin do to him today either.
his hand hesitates to reach and graze those spots, wincing at the sensitivity. in some twisted way, he wishes for more of them to stain him but it’s not your mark that he wants, not anymore.
all jimin can think of is hyejin’s fingers brushing on his chest and asking him to stay for the night and how he almost agreed till he remembered which day it was.
he knows you’re hurt that he wasn’t there for the anniversary but your wails are just background noise to him at this point.
jimin can’t believe that he’s going to hurt you even more.
-
you stir as bright sunlight falls on your face, you curse to yourself before burying your head in the pillow with a groan. you still feel tired, and your entire body aches even if you slept quite well.
quite well is an exaggeration really, you kept waking up in cold sweat throughout the night because of dreams in which jimin left you, only after reaffirming that he was indeed next to you, did you fall back asleep.
the smell of fresh bread and coffee fills the air which makes you turn on your back, eyes popping from under the cover to take a look as your stomach grumbles involuntarily, reminding you that you didn’t eat anything last night. you see jimin standing there with a nervous smile and a tray covered in different delicacies in his hands.
your heart flutters as you take in the view, you missed waking up to him.
“good morning” he hums in a sweet tone and you sit up, allowing him to place the tray in front of you, it had all your favorites. you don’t greet him in return, your hurt from last night was still too fresh to forget.
“is this an apology?” your tone is as bitter as you feel and jimin hesitantly sits in front of you. “it’s also my attempt at celebrating our anniversary the way it deserves to be celebrated” he mumbles, albeit shamefully as he pulls out candles to stick on the lovely cupcake sitting in the center of the tray.
something about the sunshine falling on his pastel sweater and his hands carefully lighting the candles as his tongue sticks out a little in concentration, something about that sight is enough to forgive him in your heart. but he doesn’t need to know that.
when he looks up with his breathtaking smile and a gesture to blow out the candles, you almost completely forget what he put you through last night.
“i still haven’t forgiven you.” you lie with arms crossing your chest after blowing the candles and jimin nods in acceptance. “i don’t expect to be forgiven so easily babe but i’ll narrate a scene to you and we can make it happen if you want to forgive me.” he speaks softly, with tender loving laced in his voice as he pulls your hands from the defensive stance they’ve taken against your chest, easily breaking every barrier you’ve built to protect yourself.
“let’s say we go to lunch, it’s in the outskirts of the city, in that restaurant surrounded by vineyards that you like so much. you can wear your prettiest dress and i will try to match up on your beauty, i know i’ll fail but a guy’s gotta try, right?” he says with a teasing smirk, you chuckle bashfully as your entire body leaps in newly regained energy, your heart is already so hopeful.
“and then we can go to that bookstore you like or that ice cream parlor you like, really anywhere you want to go. we can come back home or we can stay out all night and go stargazing by the beach. today, we’ll properly celebrate us, okay?” you are all heart eyes as you nod with the biggest smile on your face and he breaks into a large grin himself at your agreement, putting away the tray and immediately pulling you into a bear hug. “i’ll think about forgiving you at the end of today.” you mumble into his neck jokingly and he breaks away with a playful glare.
“that’s just not fair, what do you mean you’ll just think about it?” he whines with a pout on his face and you giggle at his frustration. “oh, you find this so funny, don’t you?” he narrows his eyes at you for a minute before his hands leap to tickle you, you fall back on the bed with breathy laughter and squeals, jimin joins in the laughter as his hands tickle you everywhere he remembers you to be ticklish.
it all looks perfect. it looks like you and jimin again.
but perfection doesn’t hide what jimin did.
jimin’s ringtone blasts through the otherwise giggly and lovingly dizzy environment. you both look back at the phone, and jimin bundles you in his arms as he sits up to answer the phone. you smile childishly and poke his nose to annoy him as he tries to talk to whoever is on the other line, you don’t notice how stiff his entire expression suddenly becomes through his hesitant chuckles at you.
“wait, right now?” your fingers pause on his face as your smile immediately drops, jimin’s hold on you loosens as he continues to talk, and the rush you felt from before escapes your body as quickly as it came. you get off his lap and drop your head back on your pillow as you hear jimin sigh in agreement.
you should’ve known.
“who was it?” you mumble into the sheets and jimin gulps, “the choreographer” he shows you the call history, you don’t understand why but for jimin, it’s his way of trying to make you believe him.
he knew hyejin would call at some point and he couldn’t risk you knowing anything about her at all so as soon as things got not-so-innocent between them, he saved her contact as the choreographer.
the tension in the air is palpable when you don’t say a word, you don’t need to though, your disappointment is evident and jimin does not know what to say, he can’t say no to hyejin but he feels horrible enough for what he’s doing to you, he was hoping that he could salvage some emotion from today but nothing seems to go his way these days.
“babe…they’re saying it’s urgent.” she says we need each other to lap up the industry.
“just go, jimin” you groan out, you’re frustrated and tired and you just want to know why you can’t have him for one day. “i’m really sor-“ he starts but you’re quick to cut him off. “just go.” your voice is strained and defeated as your heart continues to drown in the disappointment of promises he didn’t fulfill.
he purses his lips and almost has the urge to call hyejin and tell her to fuck herself and scream at her for ruining what he already had.
but he won’t.
instead, he will leave you on your shared bed, all alone after destroying every chance of being with you the same way again. he can’t blame her for the choices he makes because jimin knows what he chose at that moment, it was not you.
it will never be you from now on.
-
for the next couple of weeks, you two barely see each other. frankly, you wanted to fix things as soon as possible, but your work got so much more hectic than you had anticipated. there were so many moving pieces to be decided by you and you didn’t have the time or energy to worry about your relationship but it was always in the back of your mind.
you figured you both would eventually work it out.
“today’s my play, it starts at 6 in the evening” it’s one of the few full sentences you tell jimin in so long. you’re eating breakfast together after a ridiculous time apart and you felt like you had to remind him about one of the biggest milestones in your life.
“i remember, of course, i will be there.” he says with a small smile and you smile back because somewhere in you, you so badly hope that whatever this phase you and jimin were going through, would end soon and you could go back to waking up to his beaming face every morning.
but that hope comes crashing down on you as stand behind the velvet curtain and fiddle with the cloth, trying to spot jimin in the dazzling full crowd.
“hey, did you perhaps see park jimin in there?” you stop and ask a crew member who simply shakes their head and runs off to get everything ready to start the play. even as the music starts, you can’t think of anything else, you barely enjoy the work that you have crafted over the months, you don’t feel a thing as everyone cheers and hugs at the end of it.
he missed your play; he actually missed the most important thing in your life right now.
“oh my god!” you hear someone loudly exclaim which snaps you out of your trance, turning around to see jimin run into the small back room with flowers in his hands. “it’s park jimin, bet he’s here for our director” a hushed whisper passes you by and everyone pats you with teasing smiles as they leave the room but you can’t bring yourself to smile back.
before jimin can even utter a word, you’re already making your way out the door. you are seething with anger, every exhale of yours louder than the previous one as you stomped your way out of the room with jimin hot on your tail.
“wait, i can explain!” he yells loudly as he grabs your arm and you pause because you see a few people from your crew in the same corridor. “you can explain when we are out of my workplace, do you get that?” your loyalty to professionalism slipped jimin’s mind and he hesitantly lets go of your arm, he watches as you politely greet and thank everyone before taking heavy steps out of the building.
“are you really going to not even look at me?” jimin glances at your side profile as you stop at a red light, the air in the car got heavier with each second you two didn’t acknowledge the other. but as you keep waiting, jimin keeps getting more anxious because if your relationship was going to end, he didn’t want it to happen this way.
“i’m saying i’m sorry, i seriously am very sorry for missing your play, it’s just practice got hectic and it completely slipped my mi-“ jimin frantically makes excuses and pauses at his grave error. he knows he’s said the worst thing he could when you turn to him with dead eyes.
“slipped your mind? my biggest career milestone so far, slipped your mind?” you bitterly chuckle and jimin gulps, sinking in his seat. “it’s been very busy” he meekly offers and he knows he deserves the scoff you let out.
“what could keep you so busy, jimin? you didn’t come to our anniversary, fine, it was whatever, i was hurt and i didn’t think much of it because i know how important practice is to you. but i can’t sit here and keep excusing every shitty thing you do and if it really is practice, don’t fucking push yourself so much. and do not expect me to let you go all the time!” he lets you scream your frustration out, it was clear you didn’t want to listen to him. he doesn’t say a word even when you reach home and silently sit on the couch, whatever frustration you felt turned into thin air as you realized what this meant.
“you missed my first ever direction” you whisper as jimin sits down next to you and he pauses, taking a deep breath because jimin really didn’t think he would let it get this far.
“i know” he admits, too ashamed to look at you so he looks at the carpeted floor and shuts his eyes when he hears your breath choking.
he shouldn’t have let it get this far, he shouldn’t have believed hyejin when she said that together, they could turn their lives and careers around, saying he had the name and she had the connections. and it would work, it is still supposed to work.
but how is jimin going to achieve whatever hyejin has promised him if you are not there in his life?
no, no.
heneedshyejin.
he just wants you, for his own selfish reasons.
hyejin made sure to remind him of how he would come running after her if they didn’t continue what they had.
“i can’t believe you didn’t come to my debut as a director, we’re supposed to do everything together jimin, what is going on?” your voice hitches here and there as tears fall down your face because you don’t, for the love of god, understand what’s happening with your relationship.
together; the word used to mean so much to him, it meant a future with you, it meant you to him but now, it’s just another word that has lost its meaning somewhere along the way.
i can’t believe it either, jimin bitterly thinks. he snaps himself out of his thoughts when he hears your sobs get louder.
“hey, hey, come here” he holds your shoulder and presses you against his body, letting you cry into his chest. you hate that you’re crying after such a successful day in your career. the play went perfectly, the crew and audience were singing praises of you but nothing in your personal life was adding up.
“you would never do anything to hurt me, right?” jimin’s heart stops as you softly ask him, looking up at him with teary eyes, you don’t know why you ask him but you need to be sure of that one thing, if not anything else. his hand that was rubbing your arms in an attempt to console you, stop in a jerk and his heart drops to his stomach at the way you’re looking at with so much vulnerability.
“why would i?” he nervously smiles, and even if it would have looked unconvincing to you usually, your fragile heart just accepted the false reassurance he gave you.
he’ll find a way to make it up to you, jimin thinks to himself. someday, he will wake up and think of you as he used to, and not hyejin. someday, he will start writing you love letters again instead of apologies. someday, jimin will find himself that loved you so much and everything will be okay again.
-
you stay home a lot, either worrying about your relationship or attending calls with future acts and partnerships. you felt blessed that at least your professional life was looking up.
but you missed jimin a lot, you offered to watch him practice and meet with his crew, and all those times, jimin immediately refused before backing it up with some lame excuse. you don’t push him though; you know that the play is weighing heavily on his mind with how silent he got around the home but you didn’t know that he was actually thinking of ways to let you down slowly.
he never ends up telling you.
before either of you know it, the day of jimin’s play arrives, he leaves home early and you’re left buzzing with excitement at home to finally see jimin as the black swan on stage.
you hummed as you got ready with a faint smile on your face, you were happy to see the play but you were actually happier that once it’s over, you could finally talk things out with jimin and build your relationship again together. you wanted him to know you forgave him, you consoled the angry part of you that there would be even more to look forward to in the future.
you carry this renewed hope all the way to the grand theatre where everyone looked and were expensive in every sense, the black swan wasn’t open for just everyone, it was a highly exclusive guest list and you couldn’t care less about all the glamours, you wanted to see the black swan himself and his white swan, who you were more than curious about.
you clutch the flowers in your hand tighter in anticipation as you take your seat and the lights start dimming away. and you let out an audible gasp when you see the white swan starting the stage, she’s a strong woman adorned with wings that look as pure as her but you could notice that shift in her eyes, the shift between passion and madness. you watch with wide eyes as she falls down, dragging her feet along the stage, begging the floor and her body to dance again before she’s pulled away.
and that’s when your breath is truly taken away. because jimin enters with onyx wings and smudged black eyes as she is being dragged away, and when jimin twirls on stage, the crowd holds their breath, not a single person wanting to forget how magically he moved on stage.
it’s the next scene that reels you in because the white and black swan are so close, you can’t even tell where the white swan begins and the black swan ends, it’s like the child-like purity and innocence dance right along with the absolute submission to your craft and the consequences that come with it.
you shift uncomfortably at the proximity the two share which was weird, you have never felt this way with any of his other dancers but something about the way they looked at each other, as they moved together, irked you.
but you don’t have time to think, the music becomes louder and louder, invading your senses fully and signaling finality to the play and the swans move quicker, sharper, and closer. your eyes burn with newfound jealousy as they finally leap into the sky, both their bodies remaining graceful even in the air with arms wrapped around each other, only to fall back down together, the music ceases immediately and the curtain falls on their heavy breathing but unmoving bodies.
the theatre is silent for a beat or two, everyone trying to encapsulate the truly terrific performance they just saw, and then the silence is replaced with the loudest applause you have ever heard in your life.
the kind of applause that hyejin promised jimin.
you stay in your seat, still a little dizzy from what you just experienced and you try to ignore the weird feeling in your stomach, trying to reassure yourself that dancing together required the right kind of chemistry and that’s it.
it is not connected to the many nights jimin has not come home, it is not connected to him suddenly insisting to do his own laundry, it is definitely not connected to him missing your anniversary and debut as a director.
it can’t be, jimin wouldn’t do that to you.
but your gut knows that something is terribly wrong and you’ve missed something huge from the past couple of months.
you slowly walk to where the reporters stand, hoping to see jimin and they all chatter loudly, preparing every question in their mind to ask the stars of the night, you nervously hold your bouquet close as you keep walking to the stage.
and your steps pause.
because jimin and hyejin, now free of costumes but with their theatrical makeup, step out from behind the curtains while holding hands with beaming smiles on their faces.
you tilt your head in confusion because jimin’s never held any of his dance partners’ hands when they walk out, your gut instinct pulls at you and just as you’re about to shrug it off, hyejin leans in for a kiss with jimin.
the camera flashes go off, all the reporters wildly shouting at them to pose and your blood runs cold, your body remains completely still as you watch them pull away with adoration in their eyes. you almost recoil from the sight as you feel the breath knocked out of you, you want to get away from this because it can’t be your jimin on the stage kissing someone else.
“are you two finally confirming the rumors?” a reporter yells on the top of his lungs.
what rumors?
hyejin rests her head on jimin’s chest with a happy nod, the questions come in rapid speed after that.
your heart submerges in pure betrayal because this was jimin, he was your day one, he was the reason you fought to stay alive in this industry for so long, he was supposed to be your future, you never imagined growing older without jimin by your side.
you look at jimin, trying to meet his eyes, trying to get him to explain what was happening and why he was holding her the way he was, why was he looking at her like he looked at you? but he doesn’t spare you a glance, he only has eyes for the woman latched onto his torso.
you feel sick.
you feel sick and angry as your vision fills with red.
you see red, all you see is dirty, dark, spilled and stained red clouding your mind and you hate that your gut was right, it’s been right from the very beginning. each time jimin didn’t come, it wasn’t because he was working hard, it was because he bought into every fantasy hyejin narrated to him but you don’t know that.
jimin finally meets your gaze, his heart racing a million miles as he senses the full force of betrayal and disappointment in your eyes, he also sees raging anger which has him looking away from you. even standing here with everything that hyejin promised, jimin doesn’t feel good, he’s like a shell, he doesn’t feel the same warmth in his heart that he does after every performance.
for a split moment, jimin doesn’t want what hyejin is giving him but he hesitates and hyejin always knows when jimin hesitates, so as soon as his grip loosens around her hand and she knows where he’s looking, she tightens her hold and gives him a tight smile.
“i told you, there’s no use fighting me, jimin. not anymore” she whispers sweetly into his ear with a grin, it would look like she was being an affectionate lover but jimin senses the warning in her tone.
so, he resists fighting anyway.
the thing is, jimin could fight, he could search desperately for a part of him that loved you but he chooses not to, he chooses to give you up.
she feels like you anyway and he’s already lost you; he can’t lose everything else too, especially not this loud applause and flashing cameras, jimin cannot risk giving his career up to god.
so when he glances back at you and the crumbling bouquet in your hand with pity on his face, you deem him a coward.
a coward for hiding behind hyejin, a coward for not ending things with you the way you both deserved, a coward for lying every single time you needed honesty from him, and a coward for looking at you with pity when he was more pitiable.
but you can’t help but feel like you were just as much a coward like him. a coward for not confronting him about his odd behavior earlier, a coward for not wanting to know why exactly he wasn’t coming home, a coward for forgiving him for the sake of keeping your relationship intact, and you feel ashamed of yourself.
once it becomes clear to you that jimin wasn’t yours’ anymore, you gather the energy to walk out of the theatre with your head held high because you are not the liar here, you didn’t stomp on someone’s heart so you will crumble only when you’re alone again.
and jimin stays right beside hyejin, while trying to ignore the sinking feeling his heart puts him through as he watches you leave through his periphery, he shudders as the door shuts behind you and he
Later that night when you finally put all the kids to sleep, you quickly prepared yourself for the call that your husband promised earlier that day, you did your makeup and put a provocative but comfy outfit, underneath some lingerie to spice things up and your trusted vibrator right beside you, you closed the door of your room and just in time the face of Jimin was glaring at you with a cheeky smile.
He let several buttons of his shirt loose, in his hand a cup of wine though you notice two emptied cans of beer.
In the background you recognized his current favorite band playing.
Drunk Jimin was fun, so you didn’t mind.
“Hi there, kitten” he said to you chuckling in way that you found cute but also sexy.
“Hi babe” you responded “You are having a drink, I see” he nodded in way that resembled an enthusiastic child.
“umhm” he mumbled “why you look so hot today? your tits look amazing in that dress” he bluntly confessed.
You blushed at his comment.
“And you unbuttoned your shirt just for me, right?” you asked him playfully, he bit his lip “I can even see you pierced nipple, if i had to guess, I’d say you are flirting, what a slut” you teased him chuckling.
“Watch your mouth or I will have you fixed properly when I come back” he warned raising an eyebrow “I want to see your body, take off the dress” he requested, you did as he said only leaving you with a very skimpy lingerie, he smiled pleased opening his legs on his chair.
“Good” he said with a raspy tone “kitten you are so fine, my pants are so tight right now because of you” he confessed.
“Show me”
Jimin stoop up from his chair, you could only see the lower torso and crotch area where a tent was forming in his pants, then he suddenly unzipped his pants and took out his dick from his underwear, the erected member went up to Jimin’s bellybutton, he took his dick with one hand and started to give it a few strokes, you could hear him moan, you immediately felt how your walls clenched and how the juices were now spilling in your lingerie, he seated in his chair again his lips parted and with darker eyes full of desire.
“I want your pussy around my cock so bad” he said giving his dick a few more strokes while he moaned again “Are you wet? Show me”
You opened your legs and with a hand put aside your panties and introduced a finger inside then you took it out and passed your fingers through you slit until you found your clit making you moan and started to give it a few circular strokes, then you showed to the camera the sticky mess that your fingers were.
“Shit that’s so hot” he said stroking his cock harder while he moaned.
“Unbutton your shirt” you requested while you played with your nipple and the other hand stimulating your clit.
He followed your instructions revealing his two pierced nipples and his rib tattoo, pants on his thigs, while you watched him touch himself with his moaning and the lewd sounds he was making, you dammed the distance that in this moment was between you two.
You took your bra off letting your swollen breast be free, Jimin choked a moan at the sight and his breathing was heavier, took off your panties and turned on your vibrator.
“Uh your are such a fucking…ugh slut aren’t you…ah kitten?”- he said with difficulty, his cock wet of precum, his digits caressing the tip while he kept his strokes, shamelessly looking at you.
Your walls clenched once more and you felt the knot in your lower belly beginning to unknot, while you were hot mess, moaning at the pleasure you were giving yourself.
You felt your breast starting to leak milk, at that moment you saw how your husband was getting desperate to keep it together, now he is moving his hips with his hand still in his length.
“Ahh yn, I can’t” he mumbled “I’m gonna cum, I can’t mmm” he was slurring all fucked up from pleasure, you could also feel it.
“Me too, me too” it didn’t pass long when spurts of white cum spilled on Jimin’s abdomen, while he said your name when he came, he closed his eyes riding the wave of pleasure, and you did too, it felt delightful.
“You better prepare yourself, because when I come back home I will not stop till next week” a devilish smile on his soft face.
You knew three things about Park Jimin. In order, he was, despite all, a very kind man. Secondly, he was the devil and thirdly, which Jimin himself insisted to be true, was that he was in love with you.
•type: Jimin x reader • rating: SFW • w/c:6.3k•main masterlist
•genre/about: fluff, friends? to lovers? very much romantic vs. emotionally constipated feat. adulthood feat. extremely pining Jimin because when the guy is the pining one is peak intellect fight me, the reader has specific zodiac placements but other than that nothing bodily wise is mentioned
•c/w: mentioned attempt to coerce someone into drug abuse, mention of past eating disorder, discussion of self-image issues, mildly suggestive
•a/n: was just rifling through my drafts and remembered this was a thing. I liked it even though it’s unfinished and kinda sappy
There were three things that needed to be known about Park Jimin, was what Tilla told you while you had jogged to meet her boyfriend’s roommate. In order: he was a Libra Sun, Gemini Moon, and Cancer Rising, which can all be summarised in one category - he was incredibly flirty. Though Tilla insisted she had already said Libra Sun whatever that meant and that there was no other, literally no other, bar for her Namjoonie, that was as ethereal as Jimin. Those were the things that preceded his fine name - good looking to an insane degree and flirty. Hence why when you had glimpsed the top of his bleached head, you had already swerved hard left then and remained the only one from the clash of two social circles - Namjoon’s and Tilla’s - as an absolute mystery.
Tilla once again insisted that she had alreadymade everyone aware of your Scorpio Sun status…whatever the hell that meant.
Now, some years, not a lot but some years gone, you knew three more accurate things about Park Jimin. In order, he was, despite all, a very kind man. Really, not even being an eternal sceptic -
“It’s that Capricorn Moon of yours, I’m telling you,” Tilla declared, passionately waving around a fork and accidentally sending a piece of egg flying into Namjoon’s face who was unsuspectingly sitting by the neighbouring cafeteria table. A victim in many cases. That’s how they met actually.
- not even being an eternal sceptic, could sway that despite the occasional, human hiccup, Park Jimin was an attentive and caring man. Secondly, he was the devil.
As you had gawked at the suggestive photo of him, grabbing his crotch, long tongue poking at the corner of his full lips, the entire shebang and acknowledging that he made that sort of lewd act look artistic, you knew that Park Jimin was an ocean if not the whole world of hurt. When you confronted him over the group breakfast, why would he ever send such a thing, he had only smirked over a cup of orange juice and after innocently fluttering his eyelashes, asked whatever did you mean. Of course, not five minutes after another picture had followed.
All of that could be ignored, pushed, shoved, burned and forgotten. If not for the third thing.
The third thing which Jimin himself had insisted to be true.
Which is that he was in love with you.
You wake up one day and you’re an adult. An adult with bills to pay and taxes to be deducted. You work away in a job you don’t like but don’t dare to change because unemployment is no joke and you live in a studio apartment too small that costs too much and is not in any shape or form of any resemblance to the appealing pictures of the white and green variety found on Instagram. Your socks have holes and your shoes let in water when it rains too hard. You’re so very lonely but you’ve given up on the dating scene because the fear of being messed up, being damaged is too great. Dating is hard. Opening up to people is hard.
There is very little romance to be found while you wander on a path that feels like a wrong choice but you don’t want to think about it too hard yet because what if you had messed up and what if you will end up exactly like hundreds of others, figures in the disgruntled mass, all chasing a dream that maybe didn’t even exist.
It’s all very bleak.
Except for Saturdays.
Saturdays are these nice little blankets of comfort where nice things are possible, given, of course, that you spend money on them but that doesn’t matter. You can sleep in, then tuck the sheets that need a wash, over the bed and grabbing only your wallet to name, venture out into the city. You’ve got your tote bag, because nowadays everyone has them and you stroll, briefly careless, underneath the sun. And then you can get a coffee of your choice and an overpriced something that the barista swears their soul for and you can sit and dream in the plushy chairs of the ambient little coffee shop.
It’s as near to perfection as you can get.
If not for Park fucking Jimin.
You’re not a university student anymore and you’re far from high school, all the romantic nonsense of meet-cute, friend of a friend and such are well over, you’re simply too old for it. It must be some ultra ironic twist of fate for him to look into the shop window just at the moment when you look out. He freezes mid-step and meets your gaze, recognizing you, well because…because supposedly he was in love with you.
It was a damp July night and cicadas were in a full shriek all around the small meadow. You passively watch from the sidelines as Namjoon and Tilla sway together, completely in their own world. Namjoon had gone through your immaculately designed trials and tribulations from hell and made it through with passable grades. And in spite of the habitual threats of emasculating him with a corkscrew and the rather deep resentment for their romance, you are, in the end, happy for these two baboons and hold your fingers crossed that they will not contribute to the divorce rates and instead be one of those couples, farting next to each other in their old. Or whatever the fuck they did.
You guard your champagne like it’s a lifeline because holy hell Yoongi was snorting that shit by the litres and you salute quietly to yourself - to the end of an era.
But… but Jimin is also there. Jimin was…complicated. For you, at least. He’s looking at you. He was always looking at you but it never quite grows into being creepy. It’s simply peculiar by now but it’s been already four years since you were begrudgingly introduced to each other and you’ve made peace with being in his focus.
He outdid himself this evening. Absolutely stunning visuals from Mr Park. It’s just an objective fact, you think to yourself.
“I like you,” he suddenly says, the light breeze ruffling his hair.
You laugh awkwardly but Jimin doesn’t.
“Uh…I like you too.”
“No, no,” he shakes his head. “I’m in love with you.”
After a stilted pause, he continues.
“Strange, isn’t it?” his smile seems bizarrely self-conscious. “To be in love?”
What do you say when such a thing is just dropped upon you with no warning whatsoever?
“Guess so.”
Well, probably not that.
Jimin left quickly after. Went on the world tour or whatever models did and you don’t see him anymore.
Usually, the confession meant the end of the movie, the culmination of the plot, the beginning of the happy ever after but this was real life and as such there was nothing, just the fearful pondering of what could have been better and self-congratulatory pats of what was avoided. He becomes a voice in your head, forever confusing you as to why would he say such a thing and a distantly familiar face printed on the covers of laminated, high-end magazines.
Yes, all the cuteness, all the cliche romance is over. But if you believed them, which you didn’t, but if you did, then the image of Park Jimin bounding towards you with a smile so wide his eyes did the thing of narrowing into thin lines, would be the only one who’d fit the scenarios.
“Hello, stranger,” he beamed, hooking off the mask and advancing forward with great speed and agility. It was that grace of an unceasing charmer. Cancer Rising. Whatever that meant. You scamper upwards, weighing between a hand wave or a nod of the head and then you’re left standing still as Jimin hugs you. Not a casual press against the side hug but a bone-crushing, enveloping-you-fully-until-all-you-smell-is-my-cologne type of hug. The breed of which you’ve missed dearly.
It takes him a while, a couple of wags from left and right, to step back and look you over. As he’s smiling wide you focus on that one crooked tooth in his mouth. A one, neat little flaw to remind you and everyone else that he was, in fact, a human being but unfortunately this was Park Jimin and even his flaws were at their worst merely endearing.
“You look lovely,” he praises and you clear your throat. Did he have to be so sincere about it?
“You too. Though you must hear it often.”
He inclines his head.
“I like to hear it from you. Thank you.”
You hum, glancing down at your occupied seat. Jimin does too.
“May I join?” he asks.
“Sure.”
You meant to say no. Did you? Did you really? There’s nothing wrong with talking a bit with Jimin, right? Catch up? He wasa friend of a friend, anyway.
And also the guy who was in love with you.
Okay.
Alright.
Like that makes sense.
He pulls the chair and nestles into it, running his hands through his hair. You had seen nearly all the colours of the rainbow on his head. How he had even a scalp to hold onto, the world may never know.
“How have you been?”
“….I’ve been here.”
He gives a gracious laugh. Jimin was always so quick to laugh.
“And is it nice here?”
You glimpse outside.
“Not really.“
He chuckles again. It must be the condensation from all the coffee making. The shop was getting quite toasty.
"What about you? What have you been doing?”
You fetch Jimin his matcha latte, declining his offer to pay back.
“Worked nonstop, pretty much,” he shrugs. “I went on a runway once, but I stopped doing it when I developed an eating disorder and my manager suggested to do cocaine.”
You are left sitting with your mouth wide open like a fool.
Jimin’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at such a thing. Like it wasn’t fucked up as all shit that it happened.
“I’m better now though. Kicked that piece of shit away.“
Everyone knew that everyone had self-image issues. That was the selling point, it was profitable for even the objectively perfect to be doubtful of themselves and spend thousands and thousands on diet pills, form-fitted clothes, alternative "healthier” eating which was the same look-obsessed culture now rebranded itself as wellness. Yes, you comprehended that but it didn’t make it any less unbelievable to hear someone like Jimin, Park the motherfucking Jimin, openly reveal that he didn’t like how he looked.
He curiously watches your brain gear and error over and over again.
“Don’t apologise if that’s what you want to do?” he laughs, quietly, shyly, like he’d done something wrong. “It’s not your fau-”
“I just think that’s an atrocious fucking horseshit,” your mouth runs on auto-pilot because your brain is lacking. It was never a good combination.
“What is?”
“For anyone to ever think you’re not beautiful.”
Unbeknownst to you, Jimin blushes bright red because it’s the brutal honesty in your tone that truly does him in. He was used to the saccharine compliments that seeped like poison from strangers’ mouths, designed to reel in and it never failed to sicken him. But he still found enjoyment in hearing the odd little praises if they came from you. You who had no ulterior motive. Oh, how he knew about the lack of any motives. Truth be told just fifteen minutes ago he had yelled at himself “enough!”. But all the attempts to forget you had boarded a plane, flew to the Himalayas and tossed themselves from the highest peak the moment he glanced at you through the window. Not even he himself quite understood this thing he had for you. What he did know was that he hated matcha latte but never had the heart to correct you so he suffered through it the times that you got it for him. And that was perhaps more of an insight than he could ever explain to others or to himself.
“And to…to suggest drugs? What the fuck is wrong with these people?” you snarl, gripping your coffee cup with pulverising strength, briefly wondering why Jimin winced. Did he not like the coffee? He had never complained before…
“Don’t know,” he replied casually, “I didn’t stick around to ask.”
“That’s good. Are you..are you actually fine, though? Or are you doing your thing of lying to not seem like a burden?”
He smirked mirthlessly.
“I’m actually fine. Dealt with it.”
You leaned back into the chair with a heavy sigh.
“So, how’s Joontill?”
You snort.
“Enjoying the fine Australian weather.”
Jimin frowns in confusion and you mirror his expression.
“They’re in Australia right now?”
“Well, yeah. Namjoon got that internship at Murdoch University. They’re doing some kind of study about the Coral Reef. Tilla is finding herself on a new spiritual journey. Something about crystals.“
More than once, you had looked at Tilla and Namjoon and thought that there were more commonalities between a tiger and a cockatoo than those two. Nevertheless, the two weirdos persisted in their mutual obsession with each other.
“I knew that, it’s just…I was meaning to stay here for a while and they offered me their place to stay until I found my own.”
“Maybe they left you a key in a mailbox or something,” you ponder.
“Oh, yes, truth is indeed stranger than fiction. I’m settling down here. Since I’m not doing runways anymore, I applied for a place in a local fashion and lifestyle magazine. I’m done chasing the glory,” he exhaled snidely, eyes momentarily darkening at what clearly were fractures of some sour memories.
“That’s nice,” you lightly remark, careful not to prod at anything still aching. “What will you be doing?”
“Writing, editing, maybe modelling,” he took a sip of the coffee, flinching again.
He must hate it, so why was he still drinking it?
“Sort of jack-of-all-trades help.”
Both of you agree that it’s a needed start over. Seemingly only minutes pass but then the barista reminds you that they’ll be closing in fifteen minutes.
Dishes of pastries have piled all around and when you look outside, with a stiff neck and even stiffer backside to your surprise the sky has turned dark. Unavoidably, like all good things did, Saturday had come to its inevitable end. The air is fresh and cool outside and your cheeks glisten with unexplainable heat. Jimin stretches with a smile, whining at the sore muscles. The lights of the nearby fruit vendors starkly remind you of Joontill’s wedding night and so, still operating on a basic instinct of speaking first - thinking never, the question rips out of you whilst lingering in each other’s presence.
“Do you still like me?”
Jimin, who was in the middle of saying goodbye, freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. He stands like that for a moment and then smiles as though you were sharing some private joke.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, I still do.”
“Scorpio venus,” Tilla enunciated like you were not getting some rudimentary piece of common knowledge. “If he’s making eyes at you, you’re doomed, sis.”
You put the powder brush away with a sigh. All you asked was did she knew why that Jimin guy had been gawking at you at her boyfriend’s party.
“Ain’t your boy-toy the same house?”
“Those are placements, not houses,“ Tilla amended, hanging upside down on the bed, lollipop sticking out of her mouth. "And yes, Joonie -”
“Joonie,” you scoffed.
“- is also Scorpio venus. How do you think I know I’ll get my guts rearranged this night andtomorrow morning?”
You crinkle your nose in disgust.
“Gross.”
“I’ll be going now,” he sighs and it is mind-boggling to you how he does that. Confesses and then proceeds life as normal. Most people would be digging themselves in a ditch, you first and foremost, but not Mr Park. He had told you twice already that he fancied you and then simply left.
You bite discreetly on your lip. What would happen if you would cast everything aside? Take him by the hand and lead away? Well, the thing would be is that he would probably fall out of love the moment you’d fall into it. That’s why there was the term “timing”. Time was a precarious thing and often changed with every passing wind. And you were well aware of how painful it’d be to actually fall in love with Park Jimin. You had been dancing on that edge for years now and as such had tethered nicely to the side of inactivity. Even if you found out that loitering around him in person made you irrationally want to kiss him.
As you part, each walking in your own separate directions, you think of being so sneaky by waiting until the very last second to glimpse back at him. Just once. But as you do, you find that to his credit, Jimin was, as before, already looking.
“Shut the fuck up,” you growl not even bothering to lift your head from the pillow. Tilla doesn’t have to say anything. That smarmy, annoying little face of hers does more than words ever could.
“I did not speak!“ she objects but with a tint of amusement. The weird subject of you and Jimin had entertained her for years with no signs of stopping. Behind her, there sprawls the beautiful vistas of the Australian sea, the sun high in the sky while outside you can perhaps glance at a faint glimmer of stars aimlessly wandering through space.
"Oh, I do wish you would just seize the bull by the horns. Jimin’s fine enough of a stallion and by rumours -”
“Don’t you dare to discuss Jimin’s dick out loud!”
Somewhere outside of the camera comes Namjoon’s grumbling threat. When Tilla points her phone at him, he’s found with a toothbrush lodged in his mouth, tugging his shorts over his ass.
Unfortunately not an unseen sight.
“I’ve got eyes only for you, babe.“
"Liar, liar, tiny thong on fire,” he throws her a stormy glare. “You were thirsting over those surfers all day. I know.”
“Oh, you do? Why don’t you come here and punish me then.”
“Please, I beg of you, there’s only so much vomit I can project!” you interrupt, physically gagging at the unfolding scene.
Tilla merely rolled her eyes and you try not to ponder too much on the fact that judging from the peculiar angle one of her hands must be tied to the bed.
“But back to you, listen, I know it may be hard to believe, only for you of course, but Jimin is still carrying a massive fucking torch for you. If you don’t do anything, that flame will go out.”
“So? Wonderful! I want it to go out!“
Tilla’s eyes soften.
"Babe…”
You shake your head once more.
“No, don’t pity me.“
"I’m not pitying you! It’s just that it’s not really a plan - to move to Alberta, adopt seventeen dogs, go insane one night and then die from hypothermia while streaking outside, after which your dogs feast on your decomposing flesh.”
You regard her with a raised brow.
“Why ever not? I’ve spent my entire life with that plan.“
Tilla sighed leaning back into the pillows. Her wrist was indeed locked in a pair of fuzzy, pink handcuffs.
“You know you are capable of love, right?”
“I’ve loved you my entire life,“ you are quick to agree.
"And Namjoon.”
“Doubtful.“
Tilla smirks and Namjoon groans somewhere in the distance.
"Know your place, boy-toy,” you bark at him. “I was here first.”
“She was,” Tilla interjects, pointing one solemn finger off the camera. At this point, Namjoon mutters something about “women” and exits stage left.
“You know I’m not saying you should jump Jimin because he’s gorgeous and nice and has the hots for you-”
“That’s exactly what you’re saying.”
“No, well, maybe a little bit, but it’s fine if you reject him because you don’t like him or because you know you won’t regret it. But do you remember Katie?”
Could you ever forget the little wench who’d stolen your purple, fuzz covered purse bedazzled with the words “icon”? It was a vicious and unjust crime that took weeks to get over.
“Do you not regret punching her in the face that day she came to school with your bag?”
Of course, you did. Being a seven-year-old who had not yet hit a growth spurt such as yourself, Katie then seemed so invincible and tall. But now as an adult, having the sage wisdom and knowledge that one famed day you’ll knock out not one, but two dudes of senior class when they tried to pocket your hard-earned money, you deeply mourned the fact that you hadn’t given her the knuckle sandwich that heinous skank clearly deserved.
“My point is, don’t let Jimin be another Katie. You’re so bitter already, god knows, we don’t need you to be any grouchier in your old.”
“Ha ha ha,” you mock her dryly but deep down you knew she was right. It was that mutated, single-celled organism called a brain you both shared like any other friendship that lasted longer than most marriages. “Anyway, I’m surprised you let him stay over. You’re usually so twitchy about anyone touching your stuff.”
Tilla frowned and a sickly squirming feeling rose in your stomach.
“I didn’t? What are you talking about?”
“Jimin said that until he’ll find his own place, he’ll stay at yours. Went to look for the spare key and everything.”
She shot upright in terror.
“Namjoon! NaMJOONIE!”
Immediately, the doors burst open.
“What happened? Are you hurt? Are you alright?!”
“Did we actually say “yes” when Jimin called us about staying over?!“
"I did say "yes”,“ comes his bashful voice. "But I didn’t mean it for him! I meant it for you, considering what we were in the middle of…”
These horny amoebas.
“You picked up the phone when you were having sex?!”
Tilla graciously ignores your outrage.
“Do we have any spare keys?”
“Of course, not. It’s unsafe.”
If group chat messages were true, then Yoongi moved back to Korea three months ago and Hoseok had left across the country to finally finish his degree in contemporary dance, that means -
A ring by the door.
- that you were the only one in the city that Jimin was familiar with.
You and Tilla exchange glances and slowly, annoyingly slowly, upon reaching the same conclusion as you, she blossoms into a broad smirk. When you rip open the door, the phone still in hand, you find Jimin there, knuckles suspended in the air, clearly not expecting the eager welcome.
“So, a funny thing -”
“JIMIN!! HELLO!” comes a scream from down your thigh.
“Oh, hello, Tilla!” he leans down to wave at her, smiling brightly. “You seem to not have left me a spare key, Mrs Kim-Hogen.”
“Uh, yeah,” Tilla glances nervously to the side where no doubt guilty Namjoon was hiding outside the camera. “Well, you know Joon, all butterfingers.”“
"Or skilled fingers. Are those handcuffs I see?”
As he was leaning down, a chain previously tucked underneath Jimin’s shirt falls out. It sways in the air, back and forth and you have this small but really rather intrusive thought. Would it sway like this in your face when he’s on top of you? The thought vanishes with an aggressive shake of the head.
“Why yes, they are,” Tilla purrs. “Whoever said that long-lasting relationships are a drag needs to find themselves a better partner. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Don’t you forget it, angel!”
“Oh, I’m nothing if not a hopeless romantic, Mrs Kim-Hogen,” and with that chain still dangling, he has the absolute gall to look up and meet your gaze. “Just my person’s quite stubborn.”
No. You’re not doing this.
“Okay, well that’s enough of that,“ you huff.
“WAIT NO! There’s so much I want to ask him! What happened to the fashion show? What happened with Mi-Ran? Are you settling dOWN JUST FOR-”
You smack the phone shut, tired of serving as a tripod so these two gossipy bitches could discuss their sexcapades. No, you did not want to hear any of the details of what they both got up to, thank you very much. The thought alone left a sour taste in your mouth. The phone is tossed on the sofa. It bounces back and falls onto the floor.
Naturally.
Jimin crosses his arms behind his back.
“So,” he begins awkwardly.
“So,” you echo.
It’s weird. You’re strangers but not really. You’re sweethearts but not even close. You’re friends but were you?
It’s all so very odd.
“I understand if you don’t want me to crash here but on the off chance, if you say yes, may I ask?”
Smooth. He has engaged the Libra as Tilla would say.
“Yes,” you dumbly answer, without hesitation gripping the door in a panic. You did not just agree to it.
Jimin too seems shocked. His eyes are wide and his mouth is falling slightly open. There’s that crooked tooth again.
“Yes? Wait, yes, as in, I can ask or yes as in…” he exhales a shaky breath. “As in I can stay with you?”
“Yes, you can stay with me,” you drawl. No, that was not what the shards of brain masquerading themselves as an intellect told you to say. You were meant to say that you’re truly sorry and you wish you could but the space is simply too small to allow another person in. But as such you say neither of those words, the sentiment coming from your mouth is quite the opposite.
“You sure?” he clarifies and you roll your eyes.
“Do you want to stay on the street? Because one more -”
“No, no,” Jimin laughs, hastily waving his hands. He’s practically glowing and you turn to look away. “I’d rather stay here, thanks.”
“Well, then, come on in.”
He shuffles inside and you note the lack of baggage. He also didn’t have any in the coffee shop. The only thing he carried was an unassuming shoulder bag thrown over his shoulder.
“Chanel?” you point at it, with an arched eyebrow as he shimmies through the small hallway, trying to shrug his jacket off.
“What? Oh, no, an airport at…Berlin, I think. It’s hard to keep track of all the places I was.” Showoff. “Why Chanel specifically?” he grunts, kicking his shoes off. It’s only by a miracle that you have spare slippers available. They were fuzzy and adorned with large cows but he’ll have to suck it up. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even bat an eye.
“Oh, I don’t know,” you reply after a moment. “I just thought that Chanel was your outbreak.”
A teasing smile is back on his face and you turn your back on it, switching on the overhead lamps in the living room.
“Hmm, I wonder how you knew that.”
“…Tilla told me,” you stubbornly refute, peering into your fridge to offer as a snack.
“And not those magazines on the table?”
Your eyes snap to the offending objects, recalling that underneath the odd bill and notebook, there did sit a varied collection of Jimin’s faces. Harper’s Bazaar, L'Officiel Hommes. Pieces he knew you had no interest in. When drunk on a political debate night one night, you’d sparred with Namjoon for about thirty minutes about how journals like these were nothing but laminated drivel and the fact that they were grey was just about the only thing that differentiated them from yellow pages.
“Wrong subscription,“ you brush away and Jimin chuckles while taking in your house.
His eyes are wide and his gaze curious. With a reminiscent smile, he inspects your diplomas, most of which he was there to witness in the audience. You remembered, when you got your honorary diploma, the so-called summa cum laude, after long hours and tears and breakdowns. He had been the loudest to cheer you on. So loud, he, in fact, beat not only your entire family and Tilla combined but also made himself noticeable in the eyes of the university choir’s leader. Your classmates had teased you on and on about what supportive boyfriend you had and you were so happy that day the distinction didn’t seem worth pointing out. Your hands tighten around the fruit plate. Had he…liked you already then? No, impossible! Impossible. Wasn’t he dating someone around that time? Christine? Magnus? Rosa? You couldn’t even recall. The point was, there wasn’t a day in university Jimin’s life that was spent in a bed unwarmed. You smack the plate perhaps a tad harsher on the table than strictly necessary.
Jimin giggles on the side. Despite much of your protests, Tilla had hung up some of the childhood polaroids you both shared, making for rather nostalgic, albeit embarrassing mementos.
"Oh, my God, look at those cheeks,” he coos, pointing at a five-year-old you, wrenched in a tin foil spacesuit. The combined result of watching both E.T. and Back to the Future a day before the “what do you want to be” theme day in the kindergarten.
“And the pigtails! This is gold. I must capture this!” he pulls out his phone and before you can throw something sharp in his direction, the mortifying embarrassment is already stored in his gallery.
“You share that to the group chat and I’ll-”
“-emasculate me?” he finishes. “Yes, I know. I think you’ve threatened to do that over a hundred times and yet here I stand - still endowed.”
“Don’t test your luck, Park,” you growl, arranging the final orange slices. “Any day now. It could happen any day now.”
He snickers and sits down by the table.
“I like your home,“ he says, swaying a bit. "But why is it so small?”
“Oh, I’m trying to save up as much as I can. This place already costs an arm and a leg. Hard to imagine what bigger spaces would rip off.“
Jimin pops a grape in his mouth.
“True.”
“Do you want ramen, perhaps?“
He tilts his head.
"As a food, not as a pickup line,” you threaten him with a knife that was used to cut the oranges. Jimin quickly tugs it aside.
“Sure. I’m just wondering since when did you get so nice? Did you miss me, perhaps?” he clicks his tongue and leans in with a mischievous smile illuminating his face.
“Don’t say nonsense,” you snap back but you did. Just a little tiny bit. Sometimes. On the oddest of days.
While the water boils you get down to business.
“There is only the couch that you can sleep on. It’s a pull-out, but still a little small overall. You’re okay with that?”
“I’m okay with a pull out though I much prefer the keep in method,” he wiggles his eyebrows while leaning against the countertop. You push past it.
“As you can see there’s not much to explore. The door on the left there is the bathroom, door on the right just this weird storage space. Any questions?”
“You’ve got a partner?”
You close your eyes and exhale rather dramatically.
“Say goodbye to your penis, Jimin,” you grimly mutter and move towards him with a melon scooper clutched tightly between fingers. He rushes backwards, laughing.
“I’ll take it as a no,” he blurts out, looking too unconcerned for someone whose life hinged on the kindness of your rotten soul. “It’s just so I would know what to do if someone rushes here while I’m there naked on the sofa.”
The water boils and you pour the packet into it, stirring absent-mindedly with Jimin’s eyes locked on the back of your skull.
“And, of course, so I would know whether or not I’m free to seduce you.”
You drop the seasoning into the water.
“What makes you think you can seduce me?” you casually reply, fishing out the plastic. “It hasn’t worked in all the years we’ve known each other.”
He crosses his palms underneath the chin, appearing for a second misleadingly angelic.
“Yes, but I wasn’t really trying then. All in all, it’s getting quite pathetic on my end to pine you after all these years."
It’s just the steam from the pot, it’s just the steam from the pot, that’s why my face is so warm, you tell yourself.
"So I’ll take this opportunity to be straightforward with you.”
You really didn’t need for him to be any more straightforward. He already confessed - twice! - what was there even left to do?
“And if you’re not my girlfriend/my wife/my fiance by the end of this, I guess…" he trails off into silence. The humour in his voice had drained and you find yourself fearing the end of that sentence. As much as you would prefer Jimin not to waste his time on you, ultimately and with no little amount of heinous selfishness it would still sting to have these feelings be lost. You let out a small groan.
Make up your mind woman, you scold yourself, let him go if he wants to go. Yes, it’s for the best. You and Jimin were simply incompatible. Worse than being two opposite magnets, you were brown and he was blue, mixing them together would just make a sludge, a neither that nor this colour which was both dull and unusable for any self-respecting artwork. Some people could be the opposite and meshed well, green and blue, Tilla and Namjoon, some, you and Jimin, was a no go.
As you’re weighing the matter in your own metaphors, you don’t notice that Jimin never actually finished the sentence. The threat was largely only reserved for himself. “I guess, I’ll leave you alone.” But he never had the guts to say it out loud, scared that it would come true if he did.
Your eyes droop dangerously low. You and Jimin had made him a place to sleep, using decorative pillows and extra fleece blankets for now. He told you that his stuff was still being shipped. He had washed the dishes while you made a quick run to the store to get him some toiletries. He was given his towel and the apartment was coated in the small glow of the living room lamp. Quiet music was swimming through. Jimin said that he’ll turn it off. It was strange to have him here. To have anyone here. The second Tilla and Namjoon had gotten married, her absence gradually grew more and more until now she was in Australia. It was unusual, but you found that you didn’t mind it just yet.
“Hey, __________,” Jimin whispered and your ears naturally perked at the sound of his voice, all the way from your lofted bed.
“Hmmm?”
“Don’t….don’t believe too much what these papers say about me.”
There was a hint of frailty in his tone and you’re once again brought to the fact of how horrible these last few years had been for him. The times that he appeared in yellow pages were not tremendous in the count, but there was never a single good entry. Just the clubs, the arrest, the reckless spending and driving and so forth.
“Don’t worry,” you murmur back, eyes closing. “I never did.”
At first, Sunday comes like it had a thousand times before - lazy with sleep weighted eyes, the gnawing realisation that the fun is halfway over. Tomorrow is Monday and it’s just hours, once again hoursaway from Doing The Labour. It’s exhausting to Do The Labour. As you pull a pillow over your head, scoffing at the sunlight streaming through the window, you whine to yourself - you don’t want to Do The Labour. But the hunger grumbling in your stomach is a stern reminder that you have to, want to or not. You lift your head up, groggy and squinting in the pouring light. You stretch, something cracks, and there’s a persistent, mysterious ache somewhere in your back. Adulthood. But as you climb down, opening the window to let in the fresh, morning air, you glimpse at Jimin sleeping on the sofa. Dark hair messy on the pillow, soft snores rising from his open mouth.
The gust of morning breeze rips through the curtains and he shivers, instinctively pulling the blanket nearly up to his ears to protect himself from the unwanted elements. You smile and then for the first time in a very long time you allow yourself to sit and simply gaze into the city. Dogs and their sleep weary owners trudged in and out of the park, runners in their never-ending mission to make everyone else feel lazy took laps amidst the freshly opened shops, half-abandoned construction and the occasional stray cat. Together and separate - the life of a city.
And when Jimin wakes much has changed and yet nothing really. The Sunday like many before this one is spent quietly, with a nameless, bright cartoon in the background, coffee made, and yoghurt to be enjoyed. Despite what your fears always insisted, it’s actually quite simple. You’re still you and he’s still him and you’re both here in this small apartment, on this lazy Sunday morning because you want to be here. It’s just that simple.
As Jimin shuffles over, still partially sinking into slumber, you quickly delved into a bowl of non-sugar non-fat diet no-additive greek yoghurt just not before throwing a handful of strawberries and half a pack of chocolate chips.
Jimin smiles over his cup of coffee.
“I like to eat healthily,” you establish, shaking the very last of the chips into the bowl.
“I can see that,” he bites his lip to not laugh and the chain around his neck dangles in the air as he reaches down to lay a light kiss on the side of your cheek.
•••> Summary:“No specter assails us in more varied disguises than loneliness, and one of its most impenetrable masks is called love.” —Arthur Schnitzler
•••> Warnings:smut, unprotected sex, fucking a stranger, public bathroom sex, mention of contraceptives, mention of knife play, mention of war, mention of mass murder, supernatural/fantasy sex, aggressive reader, Jimin is a lil snake, aggressive sex, threatening with knife, unwanted soulmate connection, mention of post-war trauma, mafia business. You know the drill. If you don’t want to read,don’t.If you’re under 18,don’t.
Part of the War of Love BTS Mafia Collab, hosted by @sugakookitty and @yutasthetic! Thanks for letting me collab with you guys!
His eyes are dark pools of curiosity as you meet them across the room.
Lights flash and bodies thrash to the beat of the music, yet the passionate chaos is all a blur when you catch his attention.
His gaze startles you at first, conveyed with the way you flinch when you catch it, and it turns smug when he lets the small smirk nudge the corner of his full lips upward. A small ring in the center of his bottom lip catches one of the strobe lights for the tiniest of moments.
By the looks of it, he’s a wannabe. The teardrop tattooed on his left cheekbone paired with his beautifully unmarred skin and richly blue hair is a dead giveaway that he’s never seen the actual horrors of the underground. You eye the attention-grabbing clothes he wears critically- a royal blue muscle shirt and black pants that hug his legs- and see the innocent aura he presents to the club. Still, there’s an intensity in his eyes that you can’t ignore. It seems to pull you in like a cosmic vacuum.
Seokjin leans into your shoulder to yell something in your ear, but you don’t hear it; a drink gets tipped over on your table, but you don’t mind it; Namjoon stumbles into the VIP section and sprawls himself out on the couch while Jungkook stops and turns to stand guard at the entrance of your caged-off section on the balcony, but you don’t spare either man a glance.
The man across the room is utterly enrapturing and you don’t have the slightest idea as to why.
Maybe it’s because he’s actually looking at you when he shouldn’t even be able to perceive your presence.
The steady flow of your umbra is a reminder that you’re still channeling it, so it confuses you even further when his stare on you continues.
Immediately on the alert, you raise your hand into the air to signal your leave- it’s not specifically conveying that you are leaving, but that Namjoon will be removed from your protection and that someone needs to take your place- and you exit the section with a light brush of your shoulder against Jungkook’s. He nods curtly in recognition of your departure yet keeps his well-trained eyes on the crowd that humps and bumps below him.
How can he see you? You furrow your eyebrows in concerned confusion as you walk away from the Cypher of Bangtan, down the stairs, and into the crowd with the unknown man at the forefront of your mind. Is he an Oracle?
Your body seems to be moving on autopilot as you carry yourself closer and closer to the wannabe. He stands against the far wall, making it hard for you to maintain eye-contact with him, so you give up and duck your head to return your presence to the shadows.
People can still see you if they know what they are looking for, however, no one in the entire club, aside from your small circle, knows who you are nor what you actually look like. Your natural ability allows you to draw your umbra over your face and become ablind spot. It is because of this fact that you are even more intrigued by the stranger who can see you.
Your job is to be inconspicuous- to be a ghost-as the Cypher’s First Protector. Namjoon chose you to fill the slot, becoming the first of the many wise decisions he made as the new leader of Bangtan.
One of his most recent decisions wasn’t so… wise.In fact, it makes your job much harder.
Even as you approach the one with the irresistible eyes, you host a twinge of spite whilst remembering how your leader demanded your visible presence at tonight’s festivities. Although you have to be visible to him, he didn’t specify that you had to be visible to everyone, so, since the start of the party, you’ve been concealing yourself from everyone except him.
And, apparently, the stranger.
No one makes way for you because they cannot see you, but it doesn’t make your path towards the man any less difficult. You skate around them easily.
Sweaty bodies grind into each other as the dark purple lights and green lasers flash across them. The DJ for tonight plays bass-boosted remixes of songs that you know well and, surprisingly, the crowd is mostly on beat with her. She raises a hand in the air and points to the ceiling with each heavy thump of the beat.
Plenty of people, you find, smile and scream happily despite the sweat dripping down their foreheads. You’ve been to this club many times since Namjoon bought it those few years ago but never before have you seen this many people so joyous at the same time. It must be a celebration of sorts but it is one you do not know what for.
You nod your head to the beat ever so slightly as you continue your path towards the far wall.
Coming up to the wall where the man was perched, you find that the stranger has left. Men stand, drinking and replicating your nodding to the beat, on either side of the empty spot where he was squished into before. Remnants of dustri leave you puzzled when you carefully get closer to the spot to test it.
You are noTaster; you cannot detect the use of this man’s powers, however, despite your inability to identify what he’s done, you can still detect that he did, for whatever reason, use it while he stood here. If it wasn’t for the intensity of his stare into your soul, you’d convince yourself that he’s new to using his ability by the way he so carelessly leaves tracks behind.
But he isn’t an amateur- you knowhe isn’t. For reasons unknown, this man wants you to follow him.
You turn and search the crowd for him with your umbra pulsing particularly strong to avoid unwanted eyes picking up on your search, but he is nowhere to be seen. Not a single, blue-haired head in sight. The lights continue to flash in the darkness of the room but you don’t need the light to search. You are a Ghost- a Shadow; you see just as well in the dark as you do in the light.
Briefly, you eye the Cypher of Bangtan through the crowd and note the way Jungkook’s shields have slipped just slightly since you left.
As Bangtan’s Ghost, their resident Exspiravit, you see the Unseen. Can manipulate the shadows of that which remain hidden. Jungkook’s shields are an invisible force to all except Oracles, other Shields like him, and you, yet even he forgets that you are able to physically perceive his ability.
His dark hair falls in his face and his figure slouches against the railing while he slides his hands into the pockets of his black joggers. Slacker. You’d have to give him a few lessons in the ring later.
Instead of heading back over to the men of the Cypher to reprimand your Second, you decide to follow the trail of the mystery man’s dustri. Your suspicions are raised with his antics so you willtrack him to secure Namjoon’s safety if not anything else.
You inhale a deep sigh and begin your pursuit.
The trail leaves you with a sweet taste on your tastebuds as you follow it out of the main room. Ever so subtly, you press your tongue to the roof of your mouth to try retaining the color of his taste on your palate.
It’s been an incredibly long time since you last came into contact with someone’s dustri. All beings who wield gifts possess dustri, yet no dustrial person would be stupid enough to let anyone but their loved ones contact their dustri. For some reason, this man lets you test his.
Your skin thrums with his energy when you feel the trail get stronger. The sweetness of him develops on your tastebuds the further you walk and it is then that his taste color manifests into a rich, dark blue. The notes of his pulsed echoes send slight shockwaves to the back of your neck where the hairs stand up.
His power is addictive as you follow it down the corridor towards the bathrooms.
You become acutely aware of the six knives strapped to your thighs and the small pistol holstered to your hip, concealed from others by your umbra, due to the potential that this situation could turn out to be a trap. Many mafias around the country would kill Namjoon in a heartbeat if they had the chance and killing you would be a heavy blow to his defense.
Although you are the First Protector and the strongest line of defense against an attack, Jungkook has taken up the false image of being First to ensure better security- just as Namjoon is Seokjin’s supposed underboss- and it is in this farce that lies the ability to expose moles within the group. If the truth became uncovered and you were to be killed, it would leave no doubt of a leak within the Cypher.
The track of the man’s power pulsates from the men’s restroom when you come to stand in front of it. Even as your palms tingle and your bones vibrate, you prepare yourself for the worst- the best being that you get a quickie with a stranger in.
With a swift push, you open the door and charge inside.
The lights are off. Your umbra automatically trembles with power in the darkness and it races to overtake every crevice that lacks luminescence. It stretches from within your chest and connects you to the shadows of the room whilst the door to the hall closes behind you and completely encases you in abyss.
“If you think you can hide,” You speak for the man to hear, extending your dark dominion to each part of the room. “You cannot.”
Your shadows race to eat up the natural shadows of the area, hungry to dominate every inch of space and make it their own. Make it your space. Make it your home.
Suddenly, you’re aware of the pocket that goes unabsorbed by your ability. It shudders under the weight of your umbra yet maintains its shape. Your heart jumps with adrenaline because it makes absolutely no sense.
The entire room is dark so it should be entirely yours to encompass. The small space that resists your energy is drenched in darkness when you look at it, yet it still does not allow your umbra inside it while it begins a slow waltz toward you. With a staggered breath, you push against the space to no avail.
“You know,”
His voice is sin. It’s breathless yet supported by a thousand shadowed whispers as it skates along the shell of your ear with a soft brush of a lip to the skin of your sternum. Where your dustri is.
“I couldn’t actually see you up there. I only sensed you.”
You cannot see him. Whatever his power is, it is able to reflect your umbra away from his body in a way that shields him from your view with your own shadows. Although the pocket of him is small underneath your power, it retains its shape and wavers in front of you.
Like it’s teasing you.
“Who are you?” Your voice is a contribution to your power, layering it on even more harshly than before as you attach your umbra to your sound waves. Where there is sound, there is the absence of it that follows- an emptiness that can be filled.
You place a hand over the first of the three knives on your right thigh, preparing to use it as he gets closer to you.
Instead of answering your question, he continues his approach. “I wasn’t aware of an Exspiravitian in our ranks.”
You take a defensive step back to make your stance stronger and draw your first knife out of its sheath when the decreasing distance between the two of you becomes threatening. Despite the allure of his voice and his supposed membership in the Bangtan mafia, you must maintain your defense until you identify him, for he does not have the neck tattoo that associates him with you.
“What’s it to you, boyscout?” You growl the name degradingly because it is another form of defense. Anyone not within the Cypher should notknow of you. His discovery of who you are proves that he is lowly in the chain of command- if he’s in it- yet incredibly dangerous.
The venom in your voice seems to make him hesitate and falter his steps to a stop, answering with a lilt in his tone.
“Don Jin didn’t tell me another one of our kind was in the gang.”
Even as he says the words, you are surprised when his shape suddenly billows out against your dominion, fighting with vigor against it until it creates its own considerable orb of shadows in the room. It demands to be noticed.
His shadows are the darkest of blues you’ve ever seen, almost as black as your obsidian ones, and you find that they look so similar to yours that you have to look a little harder to find where yours stop and his begin. No one but the Exspiravitians- not even an Oracle gifted with the ability to See- would be able to tell the difference between the shade of your umbra and his.
The pull in it is next to impossible to resist. It makes a sinful, delectable, and sapid smog that threatens your desire to continue your dominance of the room. You want to absorb the color into your flesh and relish in the feel of it spilling out of your pores.
As much as you want to sink into him and let his shadows consume yours, you cannot let him under your skin. The sentiment is too dangerous with your differing positions in Bangtan. With the thought in mind, you take a mental step back.
You study the magnitude of his powers quickly and find that they are no match for yours. With each pulsation of his energy, you become endeared by the defiant fight they maintain. It’s enough to explain how he was able to perceive you up on the balcony; it confirms that he is, indeed, Exspiravitian.
Just like you.
“I was merely curious, Ghost.” He speaks again in the wake of your silence, using the slang word as if you are already friends with him. His shadows recede- much to your dislike- until they stick to his body like a second skin. The retreat allows for you to see his face and eyes once more. He is beautiful. “I meant no offense with my advances.”
“Are you new to it?” You brush off his prior statement, desperate to move on. He nods once as a response and you subsequently eye his bare neck critically. “Where’s your mark?”
“I get it tomorrow.” He responds quickly. “It’s initiation night.”
As someone who’s sole job is to protect the boss, it’s easy for you to forget that there are other operations aside from yours. What he’s told you finally makes Namjoon’s demand for your presence make sense. Of course he wanted you here; he wanted you to see the faces of the new recruits.
You shake your head at yourself and roll your eyes, going back to addressing his callous actions. “Watch who you advance, boyscout. The gang is not as forgiving as I am.”
What you’ve just told him is a complete lie; you are actually the least forgiving member of Bangtan. It is your job to rid the Don of anyone and anything that poses a potential threat. It doesn’t matter if they are actually innocent or not because if Namjoon wants them gone, they are gone.
But there is something about this man that rewrites your being as you stand in front of him. Something that instigates you to bend to him and his will.
And the statement you’ve just told him becomes only partially a lie as you realize this.
“Does that insinuate that I’m supposed to be glad you’re not using your knife on me?”
With his question, you’re instantly reminded of the knife that you hold defensively, at the ready. You lower it with a quirk of your eyebrow and a scoff in disbelief.
“Does that insinuate that you want me to use my knife on you?” You counter, ready for a brief tussle.
He smirks and it is an outright deadly expression on his handsome face. “Only if you make the intention behind its use less lethal and a little more… innovative.”
Your body is flying towards him and pinning him to the wall before you can even process what you are doing. The obvious flirtation from his position pushed too many of your buttons.
Threateningly, you press your knife into his throat and hiss. “I could kill you without batting an eye.”
His smirk doesn’t leave his lips and you discover an itch on your own when you notice how plump his actually are. They part as he exhales a breath from your arm digging into his chest.
You’re also thrown by the way he doesn’t attempt to defend himself.
“Is that why you still won’t let me see your face, Ghost? Because you don’t look your opponent in the eye?”
The frustration within you boils to a peak from his words because he has just taken a stab at your honor- a concept your people value. You angle the blade into his neck a little harder and watch as he winces just slightly. It helps you calm your racing heart just a little because, for some reason, the sight doesn’t sit quite right with you.
“Shut your mouth, boyscout. You don’t know who you’re playing with.”
The man’s blue hair has fallen over his eyes in the process of you shoving him against the wall. It sways with his breaths onto your nose tauntingly, daringyou to reach up and brush it away. You don’t.
“No?” He asks. The way he contorts his smile conveys that he knows something. The suspicion puts you back on edge immediately. “Let me learn then.”
It’s too late before you realize that, within the span of a few seconds, he has pooled his umbra below your feet to snake up and inch towards your back. As soon as he finishes his sentence, it closes around you.
Instinctively, you pull your umbra close to your body and push outward to keep his at bay, yet it is not enough to keep it from touching your body in certain places. The minimal amount of direct contact with it allows you to read the intentions of his aura.
Your grip on your knife falters slightly as his intentions come rushing at you all at once.
His aura is intoxicating, delectable, completely piquant as it washes over you. Even as you continue your resistance against him, you can taste his intentions on the tip of your tongue. It takes everything within you resist it because by the gods, he wants to fuck you against the stall so bad.
The man wants to taste your umbra all over his tongue. Wants it to spill on his face and rake down his back as he grabs you by your delicious thighs and pistons you into the stall behind you. Even as his hand comes up to just barely encircle the arm you use to keep him in his spot, he wants to cover you in his umbra until you know nothing but the taste of him.
Andoh, how you want to drown in him.
The connection you have with him is instantaneous even though you have not merged your shadows with his. You fight his umbra- again, it cannot do anything but tremble teasingly, unmoving against your own- but find that the only thing stopping you from giving in is the idea of fraternization.
With you being unknown, your position nonexistent to him, it quickly diminishes as a problem and reopens your willingness for a quickie.
His shadows inch closer to your chest where you keep your dustri tightly locked into place. Each passing second dwindles your need to resist him and allows his shadows to travel up along your body more provocatively.
“You,” You grit your teeth and tighten your hold on the handle of your blade when his shadows rise just enough to curl into the dip of your hip. He shapes them into fingers that gently prod at your skin. “You are evil.”
“Only if you want me to be, princess.” The pearly white teeth in his grin are insidious.
You have to give it to him. The man played you right into his hands when he saw that he was outmatched. Rather than struggle aimlessly against yours, he strategized a way to get you into a position where he had a better chance to gain the upper hand. Rather than try to win the battle of dustri with brawn, he used his head instead.
It’s kind of… hot.
You recoil at the thought and push against his umbra again, keeping it at bay and suspended as it ever so subtly cups your backside.
You chastise yourself for finding it hot when a man uses his head and not his dick.
Gnashing your teeth together, you double your effort into shoving your arm into his chest and keeping the point of your knife pressed to his carotid artery.
“Easy, Ghost,” He slowly lowers his hand from your wrist and, instead, curls it into the flesh of your waist. Your breath hitches at the gentle tone he uses. It’s almost… kind. “I just want to see your face.”
The request is a simple one, but it is one you can’t honor because it is one that places Namjoon at risk. If it wasn’t for the pull he exhumes onto you, you would be telling him to fuck off by now.
For whatever godforsaken reason, though, you want to be seen by him in any way that you can. Your soul begs to be revealed to his prying eyes so that it may fill the emptiness in his gaze with you. Your umbra, as a result of your dustri’s intentions, pulls back from your eyes to allow him the smallest glimpse of you.
The man’s body goes slack as he makes actual eye contact with you for the first time. He exhales shakily, grip trembling against your waist.
“Me solum,” He speaks the words in the ancient tongue of your people- a language you haven’t heard since you were a mere child. “It’s you.”
“Don’t play games with me, Exspiravit,” You bite the name out with disgust. “I am no stranger to the tactic.”
“Sentire cor meum, me solum.” He looks down at your shrouded lips with a look of bewilderment taking control of his eyes. You find it hard to believe what he speaks.
His use of the mother tongue does not bring you comfort nor does it add to his efforts of trying to woo you- if you ignore the way your body practically purrs from the sound of it- and you almost snarl at him because of the dark memories that come with your ability to understand him.
“English, motherfucker.”
He looks taken aback by your hostility again, confused with your reaction, yet presses his efforts forward.
“Feel me. Feel my heart.” Without missing a beat, he whispers and removes his umbra from his chest to expose his dustri to you.
Waves of blues and blacks cascade from his sternum, pouring out at you in search of an umbra’s protective cradle to keep it safe. You suck in a startled breath, shocked by its pure vulnerability as it cries out for your protection.
Before you have the chance to think twice about it, your umbra responds to your dustri’s intentions and swoops in to cup his in its grasp.
Midnight blue blossoms behind your fluttering eyelids as your body jerks forward to press against him. As if he was waiting for you, his umbra caves in to crush you to his flesh and ensure your tight support of his dustri. Your umbra vibrates with electrified vigor, an energy that seems to awaken parts within you that you were unaware of before. Is he telling you the truth?
Too many emotions fly at you at once, one of them being the shock you feel due to his sudden exposure. Exposing dustri is an incredibly dangerous act, especially with a stranger, and you can’t even begin to stress over the fact that he’s baring himself to you in the bathroom of Bangtan’s nightclub.
Your grip on your knife loosens even more as your chest presses up against the man’s. It goes clattering to the floor, forgotten.
He whines as you penetrate his chest with your shadows to fully encompass his dustri. His body shudders at the welcome violation of his most secure place and he lets his lips hang open to pant at the alien feeling. His umbra flows freely out of his mouth, served on the silver platter of his plump lips, like an irresistible dessert.
Your haste to completely encase him within your dominion goes forgotten as you zero in on the offering hungrily.
You’re mindless. The feeling of his vulnerable energy within your space is a sensation you have no idea how you lived without. It sucks your power in and pushes it back out, changed, although you don’t know if the change is good or awful.
In a violent detonation of dark tendrils, your lips meet.
His shadows are cool and inviting as you press into them with your tongue and inhale them down your throat. The contact is otherworldly and addicting, pushing you to open your lips against his and messily lick into his mouth to take another mouthful. He exhales another cloud of his dark limbs onto your eager tongue whilst he hungrily returns your kiss.
They curl down into your lungs, filling them into a veritable void of intoxicating darkness. When they cannot seem to dip into the shell you keep around your own dustri, they curl further down into your belly and pulse into the apex of your thighs. As his umbra seeks to consume your dustri like you’ve done his, it also comes to swallow your body below your hips and press up, up, up…
With a tedious tendril, the blue-haired man licks a shadow against your clothed folds.
Your legs turn to jelly as white hot desire washes through your core, driving your knees slightly apart to allow more of his attention. You almost slump your entire body weight into him, digging your nails into his shoulders to keep yourself upright, as he repeats the action again with a pained grunt.
The man’s hands encircle your waist and lock you against him as he leans into the kiss. You can’t help but raise your arms to loop around his neck and respond to his efforts with your own fervor.
In your weakened state, it’s hard to remember when he started moving you, yet you come to forget about it as he cages you into the cool metal of the first stall to keep you from leaving- not that you’d want to.
The man’s darkness oozes from him in waves when you let him pick you up by the backs of your thighs. It encases you in a pillowy cradle of safety and assists him in pinning you to the hard surface as if he is seating you in a cocooned swing.
For a moment, your lips part so that you can suck in actual air. A string of saliva clings to your bottom lip and his, stretching and then breaking as you part.
“Jimin,” He breathes, moving his lips to the side of your neck. It throws you off for a split second. “My name is-”
You cut him off, panicked. “Don’t tell me your fucking name, imbecile.”
But it’s too late. You know his name and it’s perfect. It’s everything you expected but so much more.
Jimin. Your other half.
Your umbra lashes out at him, wrapping around his body like flailing vines to secure his waist and hips between your legs. It’s too much pull for his shoulders to resist and they are forced to meet your own.
Chest to chest, Jimin fumbles with the button and zipper of your pants. He struggles within the confines of your umbra’s tight hold on him but, as soon as he gets the zipper all the way down, his own shadows pour down the front of your panties and flood the accumulation of your arousal to pool against your sex.
Instead of the coolness you swallowed into your lungs, it’s a lukewarm and pulsing heat that laps at your cunt like a steady tide. Jimin uses his umbra so that it doesn’t carry physicality when it comes into contact with your flesh, but that it acts as an energy that thrums into your nerves to remind you that you’re not imagining things.
You gasp into the storm of his shadows, craning your head back into the stall and relishing in the feeling of his tendrils tickling against your temples. You’re smart enough to know that he seeks access to your mind but you’re not stupid enough to allow it. The reserves of umbra you keep close to your dustri also fortify over your head to prevent him from getting in.
“Fuck.” Your expletive is swallowed by his smog and absorbed into absolute silence. You only know that you say it aloud because of the way your throat vibrates.
Your shadows are driven by your desire to touch Jimin, and they follow your intentions with long wisps that slide below his blue muscle shirt and adhere to each of his fine lines. Hesitantly, you raise one to nudge against his nipple.
With a full body jerk and a low groan, the Exspiravit seats his cock between your legs. “Your umbra. It’s so…” He hisses as you slide your shadows down to the bottom of his stomach. “… it’s so dark.”
The man’s body is pressed too close to yours to see his face and you are left to stare out into the abyss of his blue umbra. It churns in a tight pocket around your joined bodies, sinking into any space that happens to be made so that no particle of air goes unclaimed by its dominion.
Even though the man is a complete stranger, being called his solum- his only-makes you bristle with pride. So far in your haze with him, you don’t pay attention to what you’re saying as you dip your own shadows into his jeans to engulf his hardening cock.
“It was forged in Summa Tenebris.” You breathe out.
Suddenly, he freezes and his breath stutters on your neck.
“You…” His shadows pull away as he pushes off of your shoulders to look at you. You’re pulled away from your stupor with the action and realize what you’ve just told him.
“You fought?”
“I was fifteen,” is your answer. You can’t look him in the eye as you say the words that confirm your participation in the war- one that tore a gaping hole into the Exspiravitian people- because you host the same guilt that you did all those years ago when you were a naive soldier.
The people were destroyed because of your extremist faction; you were lucky that you were spared simply because of how young you were, yet it was not enough to keep them from banishing you from Velum, your home.
Jimin’s shock goes unconcealed in the way his eyes darken with pity. “You were only a child.”
“I know.” You say, pulling him by the neck to return to your close proximity. “Let’s not worry about that right now.”
The man holds you differently now. You can feel the hesitation in the way his fingers curl into you. As if you would end him at any moment.
If you truly wanted to, you could.
It would be simple to release the darkness of Summa Tenebris upon him. It’s in your nature as a developed product of it.
The children who were just beginning to develop their umbras were forced into the war so that their shadows could pick off of the death around them. Absorbing the evil darkness from those slain was your mission. Your umbra would come to encompass so much evil that it would turn into the most lethal of shades inVelum.
Obsidian.
You were dealt the unfortunate hand of being one of the only surviving ones once Velum was able to put a stop to your force. Barely a handful of children made it through the Judgement and all of you were exiled from ever returning. It’s been so long that, even if you wanted to return, you don’t know how.
Jimin gradually returns his shadows to your body as the seconds pass, the feel of your pull on him too much to resist for very long. You slowly get back into the moment of fucking a stranger in a bathroom until, finally, he’s spinning you around, pressing your cheek up against the cool surface, and pulling your pants down to your thighs.
“You are dangerous to me, Exspiravit,” he says, slipping a hand down to roughly grab onto one of your ass cheeks. “But this ass is deadly.”
You scoff breathlessly, canting your hips back to press yourself into him. His shadows lick more adamantly into your cunt yet do not breach through. He teases and flirts with your entrance, knowing fully well that he cannot manifest himself to fuck you like that, and it drives you crazy.
“Then how about you fuck me before I kill you?”
Jimin presses the tip of his cock into your folds. “As you wish.”
You can hear the smirk in his voice as he dives inside.
The dive burns. You hiss through your teeth and jam your forehead into the cool metal of the stall for comfort, yet all you find is a harsh cold that makes you greet the reality of your hookup with Jimin.
His hips meet the flesh of your ass after only a few seconds. It feels like an eternity since he first moved forward but you know that it has only taken a small amount of moments to get there.
Yoursolumgrabs onto your neck and leans into you, pressing his nose into your temple as you raise your top lip into a snarl.
“Shit.” You growl when he gyrates his hips to better seat himself inside. “You’re pretty big.”
“Was made for you.” He whispers. “Was made to fuck this pussy.”
He rears back slowly, letting you feel just how many inches he speared you with as he leaves. The friction of his retreat on your pussy lips is absolutely insane and you just haveto lean back to return him to his previous depth.
Jimin’s hips surge forward again, but this time, there’s no break in movement that allows you the chance to adjust. Instead, the Ghost sets a brutally rough pace.
Your forehead occasionally thunks against the wall of the stall, your back arches painfully yet pleasingly, and your legs widen needily. You know there’s no way someone wouldn’t have a clear grasp of what is currently transpiring if they were to step inside the bathroom.
You should be ashamed really, but you can’t afford to dedicate time to such inconsequentialities when the man’s cock starts to constantly ram against the deepest spot in your cunt, making you see fucking stars every time you close your eyes.
But then, you remember Jimin’s impressive umbra. It swallows any sound made. Conceals any movement taken. Realistically, if anyone were to walk in on your little moment, they would merely see the bathroom stall rocking back and forth and think, hm, well that’s strange.
Unless they turned the lights on.
Turning the lights on would force Jimin’s shadows to retreat. They would stand no chance against the lights of this dimension, a drawback that comes with their hue not being completely black. It would reveal you, face harshly shoved against the wall and eyes glazed over with pleasure, as you took countless backshots from the blue-haired man.
You’d also have to restrain from pummeling them into fucking purgatory if they tried to interrupt your session with light.
Jimin’s hands are strong as he latches them onto your hips and you resort to grabbing the top of the stall to keep yourself upright when he uses the new leverage to force your body back into his momentum. His pull drives his dick even harder into the tightness of your pussy until his hips begin clapping against your ass so provocatively that you feel the burn of red on your cheeks become even hotter with sexual mortification.
“Fuck, Jimin,” You gasp his name before you can stop yourself.
He groans against your ear sinfully. “Yes, baby. Say my fucking name.”
You moan brokenly, caught between the pleasure of giving him what he wants and the thrill of keeping what he desires out of his grasp. It’s shameless to say his name so loud- frankly, it’s shameless that you’re saying his name at all given the fact that you’ve only just met him- but the way his hands hold you just a bit tighter and the press of his chest just a bit closer onto your back does things to you that you can’t seem to comprehend.
You dig your forehead into the stall to bite back the slight amount of pain that comes with the Ghost’s sharp movements. It also stops you from banging it too hard. At this rate, his strong thrusts could give you a concussion if you’re not careful.
Jimin’s hip stutter momentarily and his speed slows, signaling that his hurtle towards his climax will begin if he doesn’t slow down. He wants to savoryou.
“What’s your name?” His breaths are deep and fast from the effort he’s put into breaking your back.
You release the wall and place your hand back on his hip, pushing him away and out of you so that you can turn around to face him.
Quickly, you unclip your holsters and shimmy your pants down to the floor with thoughts of getting this over with in mind. You laugh in disbelief as you step out of them. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”
Your shadows encase him in their hold, pulling him to your body so that you can pull him back into you. When you look down, you almost forget how to breathe because of how delicious his dick looks, straining out from under his shirt and covered in your shiny slick.
He returns his hands to your hips and lifts, urging you to jump up. You follow his direction shortly after and lock your ankles behind his back.
“Because you are my solum.You are my only in this dimension.” Jimin sucks in air through his teeth as he lets his dick slide back into you. "You don’t have to hide your face from me.”
“Says you.” You crane your head back into the stall and revel in the feeling of your ass meeting his pelvis. Then, your clit rubs into his skin because of how deeply your body sucks him in.
No man has ever made you feel so full, so complete, and it’s a fullness that completely wipes you of common sense. A completion that penetrates so far that you can feel him in your heart.
You look down at where your bodies join and find that he does the same with eyes full of wonder. “Fuck, how can you fit all of me? This hasn’t-” His voice falters and his mouth lies agape whilst your walls involuntarily constrict around him for a moment. “Shit-this hasn’t happened before.”
Then, as if he’s just realized what you’ve said, he snaps his head up to look at you. His eyes pierce into you with a need to fill you. To fill your emptiness with him. To occupy all absence with presence. The look he gives you makes your toes curl and your breathing falter with anticipation. Those damned eyes.
“You don’t believe me?” He leans his body into yours and crushes you to the wall. “You don’t feel the singularity in your dustri?”
You grit your teeth in denial as he thrusts into you, shoving his dick into the wall of your womb like a promise. It demands to be noticed and addressed and persistently digs there to accompany his words to you.
“No.” You lie.
Because your pride won’t let you admit that you feel his umbra crowding the protective shell around your dustri like his dick adamantly presses into your cervix. It fights for any soft point on the surface, seeking a weakness to infiltrate and fill. He wants to take over your senses until you know nothing but him just like you did to him.
“Let me in.” He growls, pressing his teeth into the side of your neck where your tattoo lies. Then, he lowers his hands to the bottom of your ass and spreads it to allow him just the slightest bit more room. “Let me-” He rears back and returns with a punishingly deep stroke. “-In.”
Your thighs quiver, a motion set forth by the stab of the head of his dick into your fragility. It’s molten hot as you struggle to accommodate him gliding through your muscles and his umbra pressing forcefully against your dustri.
Tears collect in your eyes and you squeeze them shut in the fight to fend off the mindlessness. He deep strokes you passionately, roughly, and uses the slow rhythm as reprimand for your stubbornness.
His shadows crowd your vulnerable dustri, desperate to get inside, with such haste that you can physically feel them pouring like a torrent into your chest.
“Let me in. Let me see your face.” He whispers pleadingly.
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opens and you whip your head to the sight of light pouring into the room. A silhouette takes a single step inside.
As if instinct takes over, your umbra bursts from within you and envelops the two of you. A maelstrom of darkness sweeps your senses and turns everything pitch black. Now that you have a hold on Jimin’s dustri, though, you are able to fully crowd him inside your dominion and pull him in with you.
Your back phases through the stall. Jimin follows as his fingers dig into your asscheeks.
A hum of environment licks against your skin as the man lets out a sound of shock and pulls back. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting to be pulled into another Ghost’s dimension.
“Wha-how-” He stutters with wide eyes, dumbfounded.
“Summa Tenebris.” You answer him in a whisper, manipulating the small oblivion you have formed to keep your bodies separated from the light dimension.
The darkness cocoons you until you can see only him. As an extension of your being, it takes action when you do not, pressing against your backs and urging you into each other so that you can continue.
Jimin’s dick pulses against your insides with a newfound sense of privacy. No one will hear either of you now. You can make as much sound as you want without the risk of someone else feasting their eyes on your private moment. He does not further the conversation because he understands the magnitude of your power now.
“Let me in, me solum.” He breathes, although it is not with his voice that he says this. Your ears do not perceive the request because it is not audible. The sound of it does not pass through the pocket of space in your limitless darkness. Instead, his emotions tell you his request in a language you are all too familiar with.
Your eyes roll back in complete bliss as his dustri washes over your being. The darkness of Summa Tenebris vibrates with his energy coursing through it and it makes the surrounding area of your dimension fizzle with built-up power. His lips stay fused to your skin as he resumes his heavy pace into your body.
His voice is almost broken with effort. “Please.”
For the first time in years, you speak your mother tongue comfortably because it is the only way to get him to understand. You are buried so far in the throes of his passion that you can’t find enough focus to think of your past.
“It is too dangerous, Ghost.“ You gasp. "I cannot open myself to you.”
He cocks his head in concern and responds to you in the same dialect, slowing his pace. “Why, my only? Who else do you belong to that you cannot give yourself to me?”
Your instincts tell you to run. To shove the two of you back into the light dimension, pull your pants up, and leave him there so that you can avoid putting anyone in danger. You cannot tell him that you hold yourself back because you cannot risk Namjoon’s cover.
But his body inside yours, his blazing hot skin setting yours alight, his dustri willingly flowing through your bloodstream- the sensations keep you grounded in your oblivion and fused to him like an addicting drug that has hooked you for life. He is increasingly difficult to resist.
“You cannot know.” You say, your tongue curling around the Exspiravitian words like you never went a day without speaking it.
The language itself holds power within its articulation. The syllables carry a great energy that flows into instant understanding. Knowing his heartbreak with his question breaks you too, but him knowing why you cannot tell him sets the empathy in so fast that he seems to nod into the junction of your neck and shoulder.
He sighs, continuing his deliberate rhythm into your body as if he isn’t having a full conversation with you. “You are afraid the knowledge will hurt me.”
Jimin says the statement with disbelief, illuminating how preposterous the sentiment is to him. He wants to know you so that he may carry the burden of your identity alongside you. He believes that he can protect you from the secrets that you carry, but he is dead wrong.
You are the First Protector of the Cypher of Bangtan. You must protect Namjoon above anyone else.
“The knowledge will hurt you.” You breathe the sentence out haggardly as your pussy clenches around him more frequently. Your orgasm gradually approaches. “Do not get any closer.”
Suddenly, his dustri changes. You dig your nails into his back as he withdraws it from your dark clutches and pulls it back within his chest. You desperately grapple to hold onto it, yet his connection with his own dustri is too strong for you to maintain your possession of it.
Completely devoid of Jimin’s dustri yet overridden with his umbra, you wheeze weakly at the loss of his power in your dominion.
Ever so slowly, the two of you are brought back to the light dimension. You are powerful enough to maintain your own presence within your dimension, but without his dustri channeling more strength into your umbra, you can’t hope to maintain him with you. You’re left no choice but to follow with him physically connected to you.
The bathroom stall returns to your back, cold and hard as a harsh reminder that he withdrew his energy from you. Still, though, he longdicks you like he has a personal vendetta against you. You clutch onto him for dear life as your back shifts up and down the metal with each shcluck of his cock into your cunt.
“Youwillopen yourself to me.” He bites in English. No longer is the conversation intimate enough for the Exspiravitian tongue. “I will have you one day, Ghost.”
The lights to the bathroom have been turned on since your speedy escape from it, however, the person who occupied it before has since left.
In the light of reality, you feel the final moments of your buildup to your climax.
“How can you be so sure?” You almost yell out the question as his hips smash into your thighs and your belly pools with molten pleasure.
“Because,” His smile is devious and his arm maneuvers into the space between your bodies to land a thumb to your clit. The contact is loving compared to the force in his hips. “My mark will miss me too much.”
Even as he says the words, you find the pulsing of his mark over your sternum shocking. Somehow, within the last few minutes of your feverish fucking, he has implanted a sliver of his umbra into your tattooed skin to awaken it. It throbs throughout your body until it reaches down to where his thumb beckons for it on your clit.
With a choked gasp, you cum on his dick sharply.
Your nails rake into his shoulders and back as your spine bows your body into him, mark crying with the need to come into contact with him. It begs to be returned to the casing he has shielded his dustri with, but he pushes back against it to keep it embedded in your skin. Your body trembles and your muscles clench on him like a heavenly prison, yet he does not falter until his dick throbs in your vice.
“Fuck.” He whines. “Fuck.”
Jimin wraps his arms around you and presses himself close, using his arms as a means of keeping you locked against him while he empties himself inside of you. You have the fleeting thought that it is dangerous to be having sex with him unprotected- dustrial soulmates in your world are infamous when it comes to unplanned pregnancies after the first meeting- yet you quickly decide that you’ll make a stop at the pharmacy by your home to pick up a Plan B just to be safe.
The aftermath of your hookup sinks in as the seconds in Jimin’s embrace pass by. His skin is damp as he presses his forehead to your equally sweaty neck so that he can take a moment to catch his breath. You tip your head back into the stall and slow your breathing as well, taking the moment to stare at the ceiling with instant regret.
The door to the bathroom opens again yet you do not have the strength to pull Jimin into your dimension anymore. As the man walks in, you do your best to create a shadowed wall between the stranger and the two of you.
Jimin’s hold on your waist freezes as he sees the situation unfold right before his very eyes.
“Jimin?” The man calls. “You in here, bro?”
Because of your umbra, he cannot see either of you, but the sound waves produced by the man’s voice cause it to shudder weakly.
When he receives no answer, he leaves and the door swings shut.
“Your shadows can stay in the light?” He asks the question with his mouth agape in shock.
“It took years.” You reply. “Now get off of me and take your mark.”
He loosens his grip and lets you stand again so that you can put your pants and tactical belts back on.
In your hurry, you don’t notice that Jimin fixes his clothes back into place slowly because of his distracted stare on you.
“Your lips are pretty.” He whispers.
Immediately, you pull your shadows back over your face, unaware that you somehow revealed more of it to him.
But, yet again, it’s too late. He’s seen your eyes and lips due to your weakness for him and now it will be easier for him to identify you. It will be easier for him to see you even with your face fully concealed. Because he knows more of your face, your power has become more useless against him.
“I’m going to leave now.” You grunt. “Take your mark back.”
Jimin freezes for a moment, standing awkwardly, silently. He’s hesitating.
He inhales slowly, watching you fumble with the clasp to your gun belt, before puffing out a quiet ‘no.’
If he doesn’t take his mark from your body, he’ll be able to track you. An Exspiravitian mark has a mind of its own and maneuvers on its own accord. You can’t do your work properly if you have a parasitewithin your flesh.
“What? Take this shit back, boyscout.”
“I don’t want to.” He deadpans. His eyes are pensive.
You scoff and grab him by the front of his shirt, yanking him to you with your teeth bared.
“You see the tattoo on my neck; you see that I am Cypher. You wouldn’t dareleave that shit on me.”
Ever so slowly, Jimin’s poker face melts into a grin so smug that you would’ve smacked him if you didn’t have control over your anger.
“Oh, but I would,Ghost.” He lets his hand come up to encircle your wrist as you clutch his shirt tighter.
From turf wars on the boulevard to meetings on the southside, these seven bachelors have their hands full and their hearts empty. Love has no place in this world, but somehow its still managed to slip into their territory. Now Bangtan must prepare for the most brutal battle they have ever faced.
Tempers will flare, blood will shed, and love…it will tear them apart then put them together again. Will they be willing to go against everything they stand for to chase this new feeling? Or will they stick to the code and abandon what their lonely hearts truly desire?
summary:when he breaks up with you after one stressful night too many, jimin thinks he’ll be okay (because really, the relationship was only a few months old and he wasn’t in love with you or anything). at least, okay enough to stay by your side as a friend even if he can’t bring himself to be your lover. because that’s who he is: the type of guy who’d do anything to keep the people he cares about close-by. but what happens when you start to move on and he isn’t ready? he decides to create a fake profile on tinder to keep you close, that’s what.
genre:fluff, angst, exes to lovers, social media su
playlist:the way i loved you by taylor swift; wyd now? by sadie jean; i think i wanna text u by vaultboy; forget i exist by sam macpherson
Summary: Months have passed. Jimin tries to take charge of his life, it’s not easy and he doesn’t feel like himself but you’re there. In a way, you always have been. You were strangers for a time, then friends, then mere strangers again, but is going forward and being more what you both want?
Warnings/Tags: Rated G-angst; but there are good parents out there (specifically in this chapter lmao); there are tears too, ooof; Jimin is going throughit rn, but it’ll be okay; if the word ‘maybe’ was a fic (oops); - non-idol!AU (University —> Young adults).
-
Jimin never knew what to do with himself during family dinners. He never knew when to interject or stay silent, which made him an easy target.
“What are your plans, Jimin-sshi?”
Ji-Eun’s father says this as he drinks himself into a violent shade of red. Jimin fidgets, trying to scramble for a diplomatic yet adequate answer. The question was too vague, too open-ended. Did he mean his current plans or plans into the future? Because Jimin didn’t know if he had either. Next to him, Ji-Eun remains silent, a thing that became pressingly irritating in the given circumstances.
“Not sure, Abeoji. I’m happy where I am,” Jimin replies, eating to give himself a break. He doesn’t miss Ji-Eun’s soft sigh as she rises from her seat. Her mother gives Jimin as a small smile.
“I’m sure Jimin’s plans are well and good,” she adds, patting him on the shoulder.
To this, Jimin can’t seem to understand why he felt a dreaded sense of suffocation. The weight of his inadequacies far too oppressive for his liking. He wishes to be apart or elsewhere, perhaps to detach himself from who he was as a person. He tries to pivot, to prepare himself for an onslaught.
Ji-Eun returns with a glass of water for him, “here, drink this.”
Jimin obliges, melting any possibility of being drunk. He guesses that he won’t be escorted to the bus stop tonight.
“How is the job though?” Ji-Eun mother says after a while. Jimin’s nerves don’t settle.
“It’s fine, Eomma.”
The feeling of calling other people’s parents is foreign to him, especially since he doesn’t feel in any way at home under their scrutiny. But he smiles and nods.
That’s all he ever did nowadays.
-
The gate to Jimin’s home is left open.
He walks across the tiny path, his hair ruffled by the breeze. When he finally enters his childhood home, he is startled by his mother’s presence in the kitchen. Illuminated by a single light, she works to wash a couple of vegetables in the sink, shaking them before laying them down. Jimin makes his presence known quickly to avoid being scolded at the late hour. He scrapes the chair back and fills a small glass with water for himself.
“Did my son have a good day?”
Jimin gulps down the drink, unable to feel nothing but shame in holding that title. It wells up and pokes through his eyes, as if he was a sieve for his emotions. In the past months, while getting more serious with Ji-Eun, it’s been a never ending barrage of humiliation; he has never felt good enough, even in his home town. But because it’s his mother, a person who has seen him in every hue, he surrenders and becomes small. She approaches him, placing a tender hand on his shoulders as he dips his head, the tears coming suddenly.
“You can tell Eomma what’s bothering you. It’s okay.”
Jimin inhales a shuddering breath, his chest tight.
Should he even risk baring himself when his problems are so hollow?
It’s been three months of stagnation, of being a convenience store manager, of being in a relationship that he neither feels happy or fulfilled in.
“Eomma,”he whispers, curling his hands into fists since they couldn’t stop shaking, “I’m just having a hard time.”
And it’s this silence that’s most comforting, the gentle embrace of his mother, the scent of her clothes and her warmth. Jimin can’t even look at her in the eye.
“I’m very proud of you,” she murmurs into his hair.
Then, she did what she would do when he was younger, a slight push of her fingers in his hair, a gentle scratch on his scalp. It’s a small comfort that sent a tremendous sense of nostalgia through him. Jimin was back to being a child, he was years younger, and someone else more capable is bearing the burden for now. He snivelled, braving the torrent of emotions. He couldn’t say much as he was crying too hard, the pain of being acknowledged right in the moment being too much.
“Eomma,” he says, his breath coming out like a tremor, “I need to leave.”
She takes his face in her hands, the surface of her palms are soft and warm. She’s always looked at him kindly, in way that he doesn’t understand. Jimin looked like his father but he was raised by his mother, a kind and gentle soul who was selfless to a fault.
“I’ll support you. Eommawill support you.”
And for the first time in a long while, Jimin finds a certain serenity overcome him.
-
You wedge your phone between your ear and your shoulder, shoving past the door as you heft another box.
“You better get here soon, Tae. They think it’s myplace that I’m moving into.”
The line is static for a bit before clearing, “yeah. I’m just stuck at work for another twenty minutes. My roommate’ll be there in a two minutes.”
You rolled your eyes, setting the box in a vacant room. The apartment, under Seoul standards, is decent. It’s not uncommon for people to shoulder the rent by adopting a roommate or two. The times are harder now more than ever, so you understood Taehyung’s compromise.
“Fine,” you huffed, sitting down on the mattress, looking down on the miniature setting of downtown Mapo. Students tour the streets as afternoon wanes into evening; Taehyung shouldn’t have been running this late but it couldn’t be helped.
“Ah, thanks Ahjussi, just there. Okay…”
The voice renders you to a state of alert. It’s familiar in its tone: how it sounds like a song most times, gentle in the delivery of vowels, conjuring up images of a handsome thief. A once a good friend turned temporary foe after a misdirected kiss. Months have elapsed, the time riddled in silence and half-hearted interactions online.
Jimin appears suddenly through the door, as surprised as you were.
“Oh,” he mutters, opening the door widely and letting himself in.
“Jimin.”
His smile is strained and all you could think of was how naive you were. Of course Taehyung and Jimin kept in touch, of course Taehyung trusted Jimin to be his roommate. You examine Jimin subtly; it’s been months and he’s drifted, as he does, further than you liked. You make room, dragging yourself along the bed. The excitement is different, tentative. As if Jimin materialising in front of you suddenly makes him realagain.
“When Taehyung told me that his ‘friend’ will be here, I never expected it to be you.”
That stings a little.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he cautions, seeing your face. He gestures with his hands in front of him slightly, “I just meant that, I guess I didn’t expect you and Taehyung to keep in touch.”
The air is suffused with a kind of easy acknowledgment between you, the bygones solidifying at the sight of each other being well and healthy. He came without Ji-Eun after all and a kiss was just a kiss. You worried about Jimin, despite it all.
“He moved back here from Daegu a while back and we hung out a lot since ‘cause I ran into him in a café,” you explained.
Taehyung, boisterous in his embrace, never quite let you go from that day forward. But you can’t help but admit that it was nice to have someone from university who knew you then, before life took over. Taehyung kept his easy-going outlook in life, weathering the dreaded consequences of growing up with a can-do attitude.
Jimin nods, tucking his bottom lip under his teeth. You wait for him to speak, to lend part of himself out in the open. He gives you a strained smile instead, hesitating to meet you in the eye.
“I’m glad though, cause I don’t think we’d see each other.”
You shake your head, “we’re not very good at being strangers, are we?”
His smile grows and your mirror it too.
“No. But I’m kind of glad that’s the case.”
And you think that deep down, past the uncomfortable territory of mishaps that you shared, you really were.
-
Taehyung begins to rise from where he was sat, much to you and Jimin’s protest.
“Where are you going?” You asked, failing to grasp at the hem of his pants.
Jimin hides his face in his hands to laugh, chasing that joke you hauled out from years back. Strange how nostalgia can shape a conversation, varnishing your earlier years in technicolour. It was all so simple; the one thing plaguing your minds were reserving a booth at a student pub or when the next exam was.
“I’m tired guys, and I have work tomorrow,” Taehyung announced, not bothering to wait for a reply. The door slams behind him, leaving you and Jimin alone. You didn’t take it as anything mean, Taehyung had an especially long day and sleep is a currency that was hard to come by these days.
“Must be stressful for him,” Jimin said, his voice a little hoarse.
You nod. Taehyung was spinning plates with all of what he was trying to achieve. There was work, then moving back to the city, then more work. He would often complain that there aren’t enough hours in the day to do anything. Though you all knew that what he really meant was rest.
Seoul wears down even the most resilient eventually.
“Are you still working in that office?”
You swallow the shot of soju and suppress a cough, “yeah. I wanted to leave but they promoted me.”
Jimin chuckled, adjusting his posture, “show off.”
“I’m not showing off! I really wanted to leave,” you exclaimed, thinking about the long hours chained to your desk, as well as the same, banal routine eroding your sense of self. You didn’t understand why living would take such a toll despite being rewarded in spades. You had a place to yourself, enough food, a somewhat independent state of living. Your parents were prouder than most. It’s picture perfect, a future you strive for now a reality. In fact, all that’s left is the company of a small pet, barred solely by the standards of your apartment.
Jimin purses his lips, considering the murky surface of his shot glass. These were the times that you think he was the hardest to read, as if he was caving in himself, retreating away from you.
“Wish I had the option to leave,” he sighed. You remembered that he was in between jobs again, back to tempting and such.
“We can trade places if you like, I’m sure my boss would love to have you.”
Jimin grinned, shoving your shoulder weakly, “I hate office jobs, you know that.”
“Doesn’t mean that you won’t be suited for it.”
Jimin sighs deeply again, craning his head back against the curve of the couch. His hair was back to its dark locks, and it was longer this time. They fanned out in graceful strands onto the fabric, his profile is sharp and his jaw angular.
“I don’t know. Sometimes, I just want time to stop, you know?”
You nod because you do get it. You don’t understand why it all goes so fast, how much older you both were now. Life seemed doable back in university, a steep challenge. You suppose that it still is now, but with the added notion of pressure, of the need to be somewhere already even if you didn’t know where that place or state of being was. An idea comes to mind suddenly, so you face him just as he turns his head. Jimin’s cheeks were flushed pink, his lips equally rosy. Here, he was less hard to read and was back to the handsome thief in your eyes.
“How about we go have that day out, you know, watching performances.”
It’s a suggestion borne out of a hazy memory, of conversations in diners, the kind of wishful thinking that was harmless but held the weight of a promise. Jimin blinks, registering your words.
“You remembered that?”
And you smiled, wistful.
“Of course I did.”
-
Jimin hasn’t been thishappy in a while.
The National Theatre of Korea was magnificent on an ordinary Saturday evening, it’s halls brimming with regulars or newcomers. Dressed closer to the nines that your usual style, you both made it out of the theatre, grinning from ear to ear.
Hoseok waved at you and him. To Jimin’s knowledge, he had been working there for the past two years as the resident set designer. The backdrop for the evening’s performance was his vision coming to life, Jimin had never been prouder. You looped your arm through his, tugging him eagerly. He laughed at your enthusiasm, allowing himself to be guided.
“Did you guys enjoy it?”
Jimin leaps to answer, “of course, Hyung.”
You smiled, “it was wonderful. Thanks for getting us tickets last minute.”
Jimin glances at you then, noticing every detail. Absorbing your features, your happiness, as if that was the very force keeping him upright. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling but it was something other than guilt this time, and for that he was grateful.
Hoseok blushes at the warm greeting, “I haven’t seen you guys for ages, so I’m happy to do this.”
“Do you still have access to the stage, Hyung?” Jimin asked, trying his luck. Hoseok arches his brow but is congenial. You giggled next to him, a conspirator in his scheme. Eventually though, Hoseok leads the way, all three of you going against the current of the crowd.
-
Things looked different on stage.
You and Jimin were sat right where the actors were minutes ago. Shredded confetti littered the corners, the floor is scratched up, the furious swipes of various footwear marking it beyond repair. Jimin liked seeing that because it meant that it was used, that people came to see these performances. You whistled at the overhead lights, the complicated rigging that, from afar, the audience wouldn’t see. Jimin found himself observing you again as the silence conveyed the enormity of the place. Here, the dreams of the performers echoed in the hearts of the audience and he felt a sort of kinship to that.
He hadn’t properly thought about it since leaving but it felt so good to be around others, to be invisible, and to have no responsibilities or any kind of pressure around him. Leaving Busan for Seoul again, that re-centred him. Leaving Ji-Eun, no matter how painful it was to instigate, was a mindful change for the better. He didn’t like seeing anyone unhappy and that was Ji-Eun in the latter part of their relationship. That’s why seeing his mother and father wave him off from the train station was less intimidating and more cathartic.
Now, he was reaping the benefits of trying. He liked your company, he felt at ease.
“I would have been happy as part of the theatre ensemble, anyensemble. I’ve always loved the stage…”
Jimin lets the seemingly endless space of the theatre hold the things unsaid. They lurk in certain spaces, in the curtains, the levelled tiers where seats are found. You wait, comfortable in his musings, his half-baked dreams.
“How are you?”
You ask this while Jimin fidgets then fixates on a faraway point near the back of the theatre. The question isn’t difficult, he’s heard it before, too often these days.
“Well, work’s been the same and -”
You cut him off immediately, “no, I meant - what’s been happening with you? I don’t care about work or what you’re doing.”
Jimin looks at you again as you finish your point.
“Howare you, Jimin?”
He should be relieved really, which makes it silly that all he wants to do is cry. In front of him, you’re oblivious, as your concern is genuine. To add, your eyes are attentive. He finds himself welcoming this spate of emotions that encourages honesty. The space between, where your hands are splayed, the tips of them just touching. He wonders how you knew what to say, to have that ability to reach into his mind.
He holds your attention, his eyes seeking yours, unafraid for once. The first graze of your fingers together makes both of you smile.
“Better.”
It’s not meant to sound like a confession but it feels like it because it’s you. Here, in a venue that holds thousands that it might have been the world’s stage, it’s the most sincere he’s been. He holds onto your smile as the lights flicker above, he cleared his throat to expel any dredge of emotion making him choke up.
“I loved the pansori,” you mused, shifting your legs as if you were making snow angels. Jimin leans on his hands.
“Does it have to be about love, though?” He thought aloud.
You scoffed, “it wasn’t allabout love. There were themes of social class, too.”
Jimin rolled his eyes, “would it kill them to support productions that have less conflict?”
You laughed, “careful, Hoseok might hear you.”
“Good!” He bellowed, his voice reverberating on every surface. You stifled your laugh between your fingers and a part of him wanted to hear it loudly since he missed it so much.
“Besides,” you said, gathering your breath, “that’s what it’s about.”
Jimin cocks his head to the side, confused.
“What’s what all about?” He asked.
You met him in the eye and he registers something flash in them. Maybe it’s in the way your brows scrunched for a second, or how swift you were in blinking it away.
“Love,” you concluded, staring up at the ceiling again, “love’s about conflict.”
-
“Remind me to wear more comfortable shoes,” you complained, grasping onto Jimin’s hand so tightly that his knuckles were ashen.
Namsan Seoul Tower is a distinct spindle that glowed in brilliant blue tonight. Jimin had spontaneously booked tickets prior to the performance and told you whilst changing lines at the subway. The night hadn’t ended yet and you were glad, given that he had been so sullen. It was nice that he took initiative.
“Let’s swap then,” he says, slowing down a little to allow you to adjust. Heat creeped up your neck and spilled over to your cheeks.
“No, I’m fine,” you replied, scurrying forward to join the line of people waiting to be shuffled into the elevators. Jimin rubs your lower back, affectionate and serious.
“You sure?”
You nod, avoiding him in the eye. He brushes this off by grasping your waist so that you weren’t pushing all of your weight into the heels you wore. The warmth of him was distracting, to say the least. You remind yourself that Jimin’s always been like this. Soon, you were directed into one of the elevators, leading to the observatory deck.
Seoul from above is a maze of highways and blacked out shapes. The deck was circular in structure and there weren’t too many people around as it was late. Jimin stayed near, at times, strolling with you to point at vague areas of interest. He even took to pointing out where he used to get the bus to work. Then, in a quieter section, past the watchful eyes of the stewards, you leaned onto the fortified glass, the silence between you oddly comforting.
It makes you braver in ways that alcohol could and it seems that Jimin is anticipating it too, this question at the tip of your tongue.
“We never talked about it,” you muttered.
Jimin blinks, tucking his bottom lip under his teeth. The blood spreads and it becomes redder. You didn’t meant to sully the atmosphere, you didn’t even know where you were headed with your words. All that you remembered was a kiss, the uncomfortable train ride back, and the months of walking around in eggshells and barely interacting.
This confrontation was bound to happen anyway.
“I’m sorry for that,” he began, looking down at the floor, at your feet.
Apologies were overdue but that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Something aches in your chest, a definite sting as your heart struggles to beat regularly. You don’t say anything, admiring the neon dots that decorate the landscape. From this high, you seemed invincible, ready to tackle any problem. It’s only when you looked at Jimin did you realise the error of your ways.
“I don’t want you to misunderstand. You’ve always been someone I could talk to about anything, I never had to hide myself from you, we’re like that.”
Funny how the words stemming from empathy served the opposite effect. You let out a shaky breath.
The kiss meant nothing to him.
“Right. So, I guess I’ll just be the person, who you go to if you’re feeling like you need a pick me up.”
Jimin’s features flicker to something akin to hurt, but you had to push through. It wasn’t ideal to talk about it in public like this, tainting the beautiful view below. Seoul has always been kind to you at any hour and the nights were yours to dream up infinite possibilities. Now, it seemed too saturated because of this inexplicable hurt.
“It’s not like that,” Jimin replied, reaching for you again. This time, you don’t bother shrugging him off.
“Then what is it? What am I to you?”
And the silence that follows was even harder to bear. He lets go of your sleeve, regretful in every action but at a loss for words. You cast your mind back to all of the points in your life where Jimin was in it, each one coloured in joy despite it all. He says your name, soft and careful.
“Please don’t misunderstand. I don’t want us to be apart or not talk again.”
You remembered the numerous texts he sent, the phone calls you ignored. You weren’t blocking him out of your life out of spite, it just hurt too much to be rejected like that. You had kept it together in the past week as he was undergoing this period of change, but you didn’t want to drag it out for longer. It was hard to pretend that things were alright but it was harder to gloss over the previous events as if they were insignificant.
“I’m really tired of this,” you mumbled, rubbing the heel of your palms over your eyes until you saw white dots. You feel him grasp at your wrist, and you exhale forcefully to keep yourself from acting irrationally.
“I don’t want to hurt you, I never -”
You wrench away from him, narrowly avoiding a passerby.
“You don’t want to hurtme?”
It was crass and accusatory. You didn’t bother to rectify it as Jimin shuts down, appearing awash with guilt. He pressed himself against the window pane, no sure where to look. Then, he makes a move to say something but a steward enters your space, cautious as to the nature of your conversation but nevertheless dutiful.
“We’ll be closing in 10 minutes,” she said, her voice low. You nod, turning away. Jimin grasps at your wrist, saying your name in a plea.
“Let’s talk,” he said, sounding desperate, “please.”
“What is there to talk about?” You snap, ducking into the elevator. Other people filtered in, crowding you into a corner. Jimin shields you despite having enough room, but it’s really because something hot streams down your cheek, blurring your vision.
It’s embarrassing to be crying in an elevator.
It’s embarrassing that the one person you didn’t want as witness is the one protecting you from other, prying eyes.
And it’s even more embarrassing that you can’t run away.
Jimin tries to salvage the situation. The ground floor couldn’t come any faster, the people around you are animated in their conversations, oblivious to your tears. Jimin cradles your head, pushing your face onto his chest. He still smells like he does years ago, it’s a sweet scent you worked hard to forget. It’s ridiculous that the thud of his heart through his clothes made you weak, how his embrace, steady and unwavering, made you want to scream about the unfairness of it all.
Instead, the tears came, staining his chest. Your shoulders shook from holding back, but Jimin cradles your head, this gentle manner startling you into a stupor.
The ring of the elevator disrupts everything, the hurried footsteps around you signalling the time for exit. Jimin doesn’t press you though, holding onto you tightly.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair.
You shake your head, unspeakably tired, pushing him off. You wipe your face roughly, sniffing as the biting air cools your skin. Jimin firmly holds your elbow as you try and rush out. You turn back to him, suddenly furious.
“Was it not clear to you that that kiss meant something to me?”
He stops in his tracks, dumbfounded in a way that conveyed just how clueless he was. That makes your heart ache in its hollow thud. The night air skims your skin, the tips of your finger grows cold. Jimin halts his attempts to draw you closer to him and stands his ground.
“What do you mean?”
You gathered yourself, “it may be a mistake to you but it wasn’t for me.”
Jimin swallows down your words, his face slightly pale under the artificial streetlights. The rustle of leaves from the overhead canopies are intrusive, competing with your shallow breaths. He steps closer.
“You mean that -”
“When you kissed me, I thought that you -” you said, struggling to get the words out, “I thought that you wanted me.”
Jimin pushes his hand along his hair, unravelling it from its style, the dark locks fall and is gently jostled by the wind. He doesn’t say anything, which makes you laugh.
“Yeah. I know,” you said, too far into the other side of things to back out. The humiliation wasn’t ideal but it was out there. Jimin shakes his head suddenly.
“How could you like someone like me?”
What?
His response was unexpected, and you both find yourselves on a bench. You hissed at the cold wood that penetrated your clothes.
“I have a hard time forming a reply,” you said, trying your best to calm down.
Jimin places his jacket over your shoulders suddenly. The warmth abates the chatter in your teeth, he seems to withstand the cold for the moment. He lets out a shaky breath, clasping his hands together.
“I didn’t think you could like me because I’m so…”
You wait, somewhat nervous.
Jimin takes to looking at you in the eye, “because I’m this nobody.”
“What?”
It wasn’t clear to you. Sure, Jimin had trouble adjusting but that wasn’t something you considered as a bad thing. Everyone had their own pace, their own way in life. For a moment, he’s too pained to carry on.
“I mean that I’m stuck. I don’t have anything for myself, I don’t even have my own place, I hate my job. I don’t have any sense of responsibility.”
For the first time it felt like Jimin was the most transparent he’s ever been. You knew that what he was saying was something he preferred to keep to himself. You draw his jacket tightly around yourself, shivering.
“I don’t care about any of that,” you muttered.
It was true. That had no bearing on the kind of person Jimin was to you.
“You will, eventually.”
Jimin says this in a softer tone, a certain kind of sadness that echoes in your chest. He really felt like those things he described and there was nothing you could say to better it.
“I know you, I know that you just need time and -”
“I’vehad time, I’ve had enough of it and I still haven’t done anything,” he said, interrupting you. “And I just can’t see why someone like you would go for someone like me.”
“Jimin, you’re more capable that anyone I know,” you began, “it’s not easy to uproot yourself and move back home, or start over again, here.”
Jimin’s mouth twists into a grimace. You feel like you’ve said the wrong words and given the wrong meaning.
“I just feel like I’ll weigh you down. That you’ll be embarrassed of me.”
You place your hand over his, feeling the raised veins, “you could never be those things to me.”
To this, he inhales a deep breath and lets it out slowly.
“It’s been years since I felt like I had any control over my life. I just don’t want to drag you into this mess.
“That’s not true, Jimin.”
He shakes his head, “I feel like I’m not the kind of person anyone can be proud of.”
You realise then that you and Jimin were operating on a different understanding. You weren’t sure if that made you feel better or not. It comes from a recessed well of feelings he probably had since graduation. An uncertainty that stayed hooked on his back, feeding off his energy. The harrowing part was that he was carrying this privately, in silence.
“Not to me.”
That was the truth of it. But it snags at your chest, this moment of honesty between you. It’s almost too abrupt, for the first time, you were wary of just how transparent you were being. Jimin squeezes his hand over yours. His gaze is sorrowful, laced in a sort of helplessness that you wished you never saw in anyone, let alone him.
Seoul shines from afar. This was how you ended your day, the performances that made you happy a mere vignette in your mind and the observatory deck is far off. Jimin is dejected while your tears made your cheeks tacky.
It leads you one resounding thought: that it’s harder to be like this with Jimin than strangers these days.
sum ᝰ park jimin looked at you like you held all the answers to the universe, playing it off as an endearing act of his, you don’t think much of it. until his sweet smiles and loving personality makes your stomach flutter and your heart skip a beat. but you’re his boss — the person who helped him escape his past and horrid boss, there was no way you could ever admit your feelings for him, even if he does say it first.
pairing ᝰ assistant!jimin x ceo!yn (slightly plus size but not much detail)
genre ᝰ fluff, angst, romance, smut, s2f2l.
word count ᝰ13.1k
warnings ᝰ curse words, strong mentions of physical abuse, yn is kinda mean, anxiety, depression, mentions of a stutter, mentions of a lost loved one, therapy, smut, blowjob, yn is so dumb, mentions of weight. i do say a size but it’s just for the story, imagine it as you’d like.
an ᝰ can we please ignore how bad i am at making banners AND choosing fic titles. but i was listening to say it first by sam smith and it just stuck but yay, i loved this idea and it’s not the most heart wrenching or deepest fic, but i thought it was sweet! thank you for reading! reblog, comment and do all that jazz if you liked it! wishing you all the best! :) <3
The first time you had ever met Park Jimin, he was trudging behind Baekhyun, a business partner of yours. His hair was slightly frazzled, to which Baekhyun sent him a harsh glare for. It was no secret the partner of yours was harsh, it’s how he got to be so successful, it still didn’t seem right to instill fear in your workers. But alas, you ignored it as Jimin pat his hair down, placing a few Manila folders across from you, his boss, and the other two individuals in the room.
The meeting went smoothly. Baekhyun presented his own numbers for your business’ integration for a section in your magazine and website. The other two were board members in charge of seeing it through, the ones to pick up messes and nitpick before the company blew up. Jimin rushed about the room at Baekhyun’s every command. It didn’t go unnoticed by any of you just how terrified Jimin was, eyes narrowing as his hands shook when handing the man a paper, which he yanked from his hold every time.
The meeting concluded and you bid the two goodbye, not having much time to look into the assistant and his boss.
The next meeting didn’t go as smoothly. Baekhyun’s proposals weren’t lining up, neither the numbers, story, or projector. It was a complete mess and the boss blamed his meek assistant who wore big round glasses. He cursed at the guy in the hallway, holding onto Jimin rather harshly.
Now, you weren’t a meek person. You couldn’t be meek when running a multi-million company, it simply wouldn’t work. It’s why you questioned every word that came from Baekhyun’s mouth, it’s why his angry look didn’t deter you from your clear path to success, it’s why you walked out of the conference room, ushering Baekhyun to continue with the meeting or you were officially through with him.
You ended the meeting, taking notice of how tense and tired your workers were. It frustrated Baekhyun who wanted to get the deal over with. “Don’t rush me.” Is all you had said as you walked out of the room, carrying your own folders.
The next meeting, Jimin wasn’t there. You had asked Baekhyun and he dismissed you by saying he had a cold. It didn’t sit right with you. The meeting went a lot smoother, and despite the protest from your board members, you continued going slow with the collaboration. Something just hadn’t sat right with you, even more with the past meeting and how badly he was messing up. You needed nothing but perfection and you didn’t seem to be getting it.
sum ᝰ park jimin looked at you like you held all the answers to the universe, playing it off as an endearing act of his, you don’t think much of it. until his sweet smiles and loving personality makes your stomach flutter and your heart skip a beat. but you’re his boss — the person who helped him escape his past and horrid boss, there was no way you could ever admit your feelings for him, even if he does say it first.
pairing ᝰ assistant!jimin x ceo!yn (slightly plus size but not much detail)
genre ᝰ fluff, angst, romance, smut, s2f2l.
word count ᝰ13.1k
warnings ᝰ curse words, strong mentions of physical abuse, yn is kinda mean, anxiety, depression, mentions of a stutter, mentions of a lost loved one, therapy, smut, blowjob, yn is so dumb, mentions of weight. i do say a size but it’s just for the story, imagine it as you’d like.
an ᝰ can we please ignore how bad i am at making banners AND choosing fic titles. but i was listening to say it first by sam smith and it just stuck but yay, i loved this idea and it’s not the most heart wrenching or deepest fic, but i thought it was sweet! thank you for reading! reblog, comment and do all that jazz if you liked it! wishing you all the best! :) <3
The first time you had ever met Park Jimin, he was trudging behind Baekhyun, a business partner of yours. His hair was slightly frazzled, to which Baekhyun sent him a harsh glare for. It was no secret the partner of yours was harsh, it’s how he got to be so successful, it still didn’t seem right to instill fear in your workers. But alas, you ignored it as Jimin pat his hair down, placing a few Manila folders across from you, his boss, and the other two individuals in the room.
The meeting went smoothly. Baekhyun presented his own numbers for your business’ integration for a section in your magazine and website. The other two were board members in charge of seeing it through, the ones to pick up messes and nitpick before the company blew up. Jimin rushed about the room at Baekhyun’s every command. It didn’t go unnoticed by any of you just how terrified Jimin was, eyes narrowing as his hands shook when handing the man a paper, which he yanked from his hold every time.
The meeting concluded and you bid the two goodbye, not having much time to look into the assistant and his boss.
The next meeting didn’t go as smoothly. Baekhyun’s proposals weren’t lining up, neither the numbers, story, or projector. It was a complete mess and the boss blamed his meek assistant who wore big round glasses. He cursed at the guy in the hallway, holding onto Jimin rather harshly.
Now, you weren’t a meek person. You couldn’t be meek when running a multi-million company, it simply wouldn’t work. It’s why you questioned every word that came from Baekhyun’s mouth, it’s why his angry look didn’t deter you from your clear path to success, it’s why you walked out of the conference room, ushering Baekhyun to continue with the meeting or you were officially through with him.
You ended the meeting, taking notice of how tense and tired your workers were. It frustrated Baekhyun who wanted to get the deal over with. “Don’t rush me.” Is all you had said as you walked out of the room, carrying your own folders.
The next meeting, Jimin wasn’t there. You had asked Baekhyun and he dismissed you by saying he had a cold. It didn’t sit right with you. The meeting went a lot smoother, and despite the protest from your board members, you continued going slow with the collaboration. Something just hadn’t sat right with you, even more with the past meeting and how badly he was messing up. You needed nothing but perfection and you didn’t seem to be getting it.
There were only two more meetings to go and the next, Jimin was back. It was only a week later and the black eye told you he wasn’t gone because of a cold. Whatever fucked up crap Baekhyun dealt with, he released his frustrations against his shy assistant.
You had asked him if he was alright, he responded with a shy smile, unable to look you in the eyes, assuring you he was fine. You couldn’t sit still for the rest of the meeting, watching as Jimin winced every time a single muscle in his face moved. Beckoning the intern watching from the end of the room, you send her off to fetch a bag of ice for the man.
“He really doesn’t need it.” Baekhyun tries as the intern hands the assistant the ice pack.
“Did I ask you?” You shut him down, the man now quiet as you send him one of your harsh looks.
The meeting went fine. The numbers he had messed up before were perfect. Too perfect for someone who was sweating while presenting. But you decide to ignore it for now, shaking his hand as it concludes, telling him of the plans to close the deal at the meeting that’s to come.
You spent the rest of your day in your office, only walking out when you needed to call someone to speak to. It was quite a hassle not having someone to do menial tasks for you but you made it work. Every assistant you had ever had was incompetent and only added much more stress onto your already stressful days.
Your last assistant, who you were very close to, was the last you felt you needed. He was young, but he was smart, graduating from Harvard in journalism and he wanted to rise through the ranks. You took him under your wing, you were harsh but you felt it was needed to get him to succeed and he appreciated it. You were the first person he went to when he found out his girlfriend was pregnant, and you congratulated him, to which he cried. It was a bit awkward but you gave him a small hug, telling him he’d be a good father.
His girlfriend, who you had met over dinner a few times, had asked you to be the godmother to their baby. You were taken aback of course, but she had confided in you that the only motherly figure Jungkook had was you and he spoke highly of you more than anyone he had ever met. You accepted, meeting Yoongi, the godfather, at the baptism recitals. Jungkook was over the moon to have two people he adored to help with his baby girl if anything were to happen. He had taken a three week break when his son was born, only to come back to find his desk empty.
He was terrified he had been fired but you got your intern to show him to his new desk, away from your office and into the space where the other hard hitting journalists sat. The goofy and emotional guy he was, he sprinted up to you, engulfing you in a big hug. A loud yelp came from your mouth as he picked you up off the floor, spinning you. You had reprimanded him after, warning him about boundaries but sent him a comforting pat to his shoulder as you walked off, wishing him the best.
That was almost two years ago. Assistants came and went, some left crying, others left cursing. But you didn’t care, who better to rely on than yourself?
It was when you were leaving your building that the security handed you a package that had been left for you. You thanked him as you walked over to your black, sleek car, ripping the top to grab the papers from inside. Your eyes skimmed across the numbers, the paragraphs detailing the deal you were set to close in a few days. The information led you to rushing back into your office, calling up your legal team and spending a long night conversing and going through the stacks of papers collected.
You burned that bridge with Baekhyun when he showed up to the meeting, cocky and fully ready to sign the deal, Jimin by his side. Your legal team spoke for you as you watched Baekhyun’s face contort from confusion, to anger, then to distress. He begged and pleaded with you to take a chance on him, his company was dying and he had no idea how to save himself.
“I’m not a bank.” You shrugged him off, only enraging him further. He topples over the table, ready to grab you, getting pulled by the security you had called up. You hadn’t even flinched as he was dragged out of the room, cursing and calling you every derogatory term he could scrounge up.
Jimin sat to the side, eyes wide at the scene. You watched him carefully, not catching a single second of doubt though. Just shocked that his previous boss would stoop so low as to hurt you, the most powerful person in the city.
You don’t get up from your seat as your legal team leaves, along with the intern you had been dragging to meetings with you. Instead, you turn in your seat, cocking your head to the side as you watch Jimin wiggle under your stare. “Was it the ice pack?” You ask, making him flinch slightly.
“I-I’m sorry?” He mumbles.
“Raise your voice when speaking to me.” He does as told, looking up at you and straightening his posture. “Did the ice pack fool you into believing I needed help?”
He shakes his head frantically, eyes wide. “N-no! I just… I don’t think I could live with myself if he brought you down with him.”
“So it was all for you? To clear your conscience?” You question. He stays silent, a shaky breath coming from his plump lips as he looks down at the floor in shame. “You can be honest.”
“… Yes.” He answers after a few seconds of silence.
You nod with a soft sigh, rising from your seat. He takes that as his cue to leave as well, rushing to the door. “Do you want to work for me?” Your sudden offer makes him stop in his steps, hand stilling on the handle of the room. “I like that you did it for you. You finally stood up for yourself.”
“I-I can’t work for you.” He shakes his head, refusing to look over at you.
“Why not?” You scoff. “I’ve seen how hard you work. You’re smart, diligent, and resourceful. What else could I want?”
“I think I’m done being an assistant.” He shrugs.
You nod, grabbing a business card from your wallet. Walking over to the guy, your hand touches his as you reach for the handle, opening the door. Pushing your card out to him, you continue to make your way out of the room. “Call me when you decide to work for me.”
He showed up a week later clad in an oversized vest, button up underneath it. He stuttered as he explained how he’d been dwelling over the offer and decided it was best for him.
That was two years ago, and you and Jimin were in the swing of things. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand, he knew your likes and dislikes, your allergies, your diets, your mother, and all that involved your life intertwining with his job. He was a bit slow at first, not used to doing actual tasks like organizing and actively learning to keep up with the business. His entire four years with Baekhyun were spent doing nothing but coffee runs and cleaning up after him. But he seemed to enjoy it.
Sometimes you had to reel back your harsh tone and looks, noticing how often he flinched over you. It wasn’t only you either, it would be anyone who held any authority over him and that made your heartache. You were intense when it came to work but not once had you ever threatened or hurt anyone who works or has worked under you. Baekhyun had done a real number on him and you made sure to go about it carefully.
It wasn’t until the first year into working with you that you admitted you went to therapy. He was shocked at your revelation, not seeing a therapist or any appointments in your shared google calendar. You told him you hadn’t wanted anyone to know, despite how normal your feelings were, you were still a woman running a business amongst men. No one could know you were even slightly “unstable” as a past partner had told you back when. You told him how it helped you come to terms with your fathers death and all the bad choices you made after. You hadn’t gone into much detail but you made sure to tell him that it was possibly the best move you could make and pointed out the free mental healthcare your company provided. Three months later he had admitted he took your advice and began seeing someone — there was a sparkle in his eye as he told you how much better he had been feeling.
Now, you were sauntering into your building, phone in hand with Jungkook trailing after you.
“I’m not lying!” He holds onto the strap of his bag, chasing after your lengthy strides.
“I’m not saying you’re lying. I’m just saying it doesn’t seem possible.” You reiterate.
“Are you saying my daughter isn’t smart?” He scoffs.
“No, I’m saying she’s three and there’s no way she solved world hunger with her babbles.”
“She can, though!”
“I’m sure she can, and when she does, I’ll gladly invest in it, but she barely knows how to say my name.”
Jungkook pouts from beside you, “you don’t believe in my little Hyuna.”
You scoff in turn, “tell that to her college fund.”
“You’re still with that? I’m not letting you pay for her college.”
“Why not? I have more than enough and I adore her. Plus, she’s gonna be a woman in STEM and I want to support her.”
“What if she wants to go into the arts?”
“Then she’ll go into STEAM.” You shrug.
“You’re by far the dumbest CEO I know.”
“Thanks.” You wave him off as you walk into your office, Jimin quickly getting up from his desk and following after you.
“Good morning, ____. Here’s your coffee.”
You wave your hand, clicking your computer on. “No coffee today.”
“Another diet?”
You turn up at him with a small smile, “yeah. My sister’s wedding is coming up and I’m a bridesmaid, I need to fit into that dress.”
“I think you look perfect.” He smiles brightly, eyes turning into crescents.
“As much as I love receiving compliments from you, I need those stats from the beauty department, bring them.”
“Sure thing.” His smile is still prominent as he rushes from the room, a small chuckle coming from your mouth at his sunny disposition.
He seemed to be doing much better when it came to his confidence and meek personality. He spoke louder now, rarely getting stuck on a word with nerves. He stood tall and proud, even slightly changed his work clothes to give off a stronger aura. But his sweet smile and shiny eyes contrasted him from the others clad in suits. It was nice though, everyone in the office confided in him and he had a ton of friends, even taking a liking to Jungkook immediately. You hadn’t known what his life was like before he started at your company, but it seemed better and you felt a sense of pride as you watched him go about his good days.
A few hours passed of work, both you and Jimin working alongside one another to better grasp it and hurry in time for lunch.
“Want me to bring your lunch in here?” Jimin asks from his spot across from you, stacks of folders surrounding him.
You don’t need to look away from your computer as you answer, “I’m not hungry. You go and have lunch.”
“It’s fine.” He shakes his head, “I had a big breakfast.”
You glance at him from the side of your computer as his stomach growls. Jimin looks mortified, cheeks tinting red at his obvious lie and loud body noises. “Jungkook’s going to be lonely without having anyone to eat with. Go, Jimin.”
“I-I don’t want to leave you.”
“You won’t be gone for long,” you can’t help but laugh at his cute words. “It’s just an hour, tops. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay… but I’ll bring you something.”
“Just some rice please.”
“Okay!” Your agreement to eating something sets him off, waving at you as he leaves your office.
You feel you can finally breathe when he’s gone. In no way did he make you uncomfortable, but lately, his bright smile and words of encouragement made your stomach flutter. It was a bit scary at first, how odd you felt around him all of a sudden, but you seemed to get used to it, choosing to ignore it.
The loud sound of your phone ringing brings you out of your nervous trance. You pick up the call quickly, putting it on speaker. “I told you not to call me during work hours.
“You’re so lame.” Your sister’s voice is heard from the other line.
“Is mom with you?”
“Uhm… no?”
You sigh, stapling a few sheets of paper together. “Hello, mother.”
“Don’t sound so formal.” Your mother’s familiar voice is heard. “We just called to check up on you.”
“No, you just called to see if I have a date.”
“Well, do you?” The older woman urges.
“It was the same this morning, it’s the same now.”
“Honey, you should put yourself out there some more! You’re stunning and any man would be lucky to have you.”
“Mom, she doesn’t need a date.” You hear your sister but your mom shushes her up.
“She’s right, I don’t need a date.”
“When did you become so rude? Listen to your mom!” She scolds, earning her an eye roll. You’re quite lucky she can’t see you, she would have definitely smacked you for the disrespect. “I can set you up on a blind date!”
“No way,” you shake your head fervently, scared at the idea. “Mom, those are the worst!”
“You dated Hoseok for a while, so they can’t be too bad.”
“Mom.” You deadpan, “we never dated.”
“Yes you did.”
“He’s gay mom.”
The line goes silent.
“Okay, my gaydar may be a little off but he was sweet, right? I can get you another sweet guy!”
“No.”
“Yes.” She ignores you. “A friend of mine, she’s got this CEO of a son too! His name is Namjoon, he likes art, long walks on the beach and he’s a hard worker. That’s right up your alley.”
“You don’t know what’s right up my alley.” You protest.
“He’s got these really cute dimples. He has a sweet smile. He’s kind too! He spends his time at an animal shelter and he has so many cute pictures posted with them!”
You can hear your sister cackle in the back, “mom, are you sure you don’t want to date him?”
“I might!” You can’t help but laugh at her admittance. “He should be snatched up!”
“You’re ridiculous.” You continue laughing along with your sister. Your mother was chastising your sister for teasing her, but it was all in good manners, you and your sister having a nice and lively time.
The conversation flowed back onto Namjoon and he seemed pleasant. His company wasn’t huge, but it was slowly getting there. He owned a record company, signing artists and getting them the recognition they deserved. After agreeing to stalk his socials, you were on your phone, family still talking and you skimmed through his photos. He was cute, dimples prominent in every picture. Some were of his dogs, which he had countless of them, others were at the shelter your mother referred to, and the others were of him with his trainees. He captioned all the pictures with sweet words, enticing enough to make you awe and smile.
“Do you want me to set it up?” Your mother asks one last time before having to go.
“Uhm…” you pause and think for a second. It had been a long while since you had a proper relationship. Taehyung had been your last, in the beginning of college but you broke up amicably by the end of it. Neither of you spoke but you followed one another on social media — he had a perfect partner and a kid on the way. It made you feel jealous. Not for him, you were long over him, but you wanted what he has. What Jungkook has. What your sister has with Jin. You wanted it. But then Jimin walked in. The same soft smile plastered on his face, carrying a few trays of food, coaxing it to you as he lifted it up. “I’ll get back to you.”
“Honey, someone’s going to steal him from you!”
“I’m hanging up.” You hum out, hanging up on the woman.
“Who’s stealing who from who?” Jimin asks, taking a seat on his previous chair across from you.
“Nothing.” You shrug, hoping he lets it go. And he does. “I didn’t get much done,” you admit, a sheepish look on your face. “My sister called.”
“That’s fine,” there goes the fluttering as he smiles. “That’s why I’m here.”
—
“Jungkook, enough!” You huff out with annoyance as he tugs your dress up from the sides. “It doesn’t fit!”
“Yes it does! You just need to suck it in a little more!”
“I can’t just suck it in!”
A knock on the door brings the two of you out of your fit. You were breathless, struggling with the dress that Jungkook tried to shove you into. “Are you two okay in there?” Jimin’s soft voice is heard.
“I need another hand!” Jungkook calls out but you quickly smack his hand away from the lock of the dressing room.
“Don’t you dare!” You seethe, face red with embarrassment. “We’re fine, Jimin. Can you call June for me?”
“Uhm… okay.” He sounds different, voice showing his timid self.
You turn back to Jungkook with a glare. “You can’t just offer him to head in here!”
“And why not?”
“He’s my assistant and my boobs are falling out?!”
“No they’re not,” he scoffs. “I would have left a long time ago out of respect for June if they were.”
“I was summoned.” June’s graceful voice is heard as she knocks on the door.
“My angel,” Jungkook happily sighs, opening the door and dragging her into the room. Your face flushed more, nervous that someone has to see you struggle with a dress. “____ needs help. She won’t suck it in.” He pokes your stomach.
“You shithead,” you threaten. “Don’t touch your boss like that!”
“Boss, shmoss. We’re way past that line,” he looks over at his girlfriend with a dopey smile. “Can you help us, baby?”
June brightens up at the thought of being able to dress you. “Of course! You’re going to be the prettiest girl at that wedding!” She giggles as she rushes to you, taking a glance at the size of the dress. “What size are you?” She questions.
“Eleven.”
“Jungkook, you idiot!” June glares at her boyfriend. “You’re suffocating the poor girl in a size nine!”
“It was an accident!”
“So I didn’t magically gain weight in just two days?” You sigh in relief, shoulders sagging down.
“How could you mess that up? You know what, never mind! Go to your daughter, I left her with Jimin.” She scolds the guy, ushering him out as he squeaks out a few apologies. “He’s an idiot.” She huffs out.
You can’t help but laugh at her words, “sorta.”
“It probably felt scary,” she sends you a sad look. “I know weight is tricky to handle… sorry he made you freak.”
“It’s fine.” You shake your head, sending her a kind smile as she reaches outside to grab your correct sizing. “I just didn’t exactly want to ruin my sister’s wedding. This dress doesn’t go higher than twelve.”
She lets out a puff of air. “Stupid brands. I don’t know why they can’t accommodate to bigger bodies. And I’m sure your sister would have understood.”
“She definitely would have,” you agree. “But the wedding is already putting her a little behind, getting new dresses would cost.”
“And I’m assuming she declined your offer to pay?”
You chuckle at her correct deduction. “Yeah. Something about not needing the ‘handout’ or whatever. I’m just always happy to help.”
“Yeah… uhm… I heard about the college fund thing.” She brings it up, a nervous smile on her face.
“Don’t stress it.” You try to calm her down. It was no lie she was intimidated by you, although it was a little weird at first, but Jungkook awkwardly admitted that you two were just polar opposites. She was the type of person who yearned to be a housewife, a mother, the type of woman who spoke softly and kindly. You weren’t any of those, and she often felt inferior compared to how far in life you had gotten to. “It was a half joke. I know you guys are saving up, I’m just offering to pay anything that isn’t met once she’s eighteen.”
“Of course, I just… I wouldn’t know how to accept that.”
“Well… it’s not really for you.” You admit, trying to be kind when speaking with her. “I love that little girl and it would ease all our minds if she got the education she deserves.”
“It would…” she nods, a small smile on her face. “We’ll pay you back.”
“You can pay me back when she’s got a stable career.” There’s a reassuring tone to your voice that she received loud and clear. “I promise I’m in no rush to get a few bills back. Knowing how hardworking you and Jungkook are, you’ll make the mark by then, so again, don’t stress it, okay?”
“You’re too kind.”
“Says no one ever.” You joke.
“Really!” She nods, helping you slip into your dress. “Everyone at your office always speaks highly of you!”
You feel weird as she compliments you, but you take in her words. “I’m just decent. It’s basic human decency.”
“Not just any person with basic human decency would help Nayeon pay for her daughter’s private school. Or give Soojin those paid days off to care for her mother. Most of your money goes to your employees than it does you — no business man or woman does that.”
You feel shy as she lists off your recent endeavors. You liked to keep them hidden, never speaking of them yourself but the people you helped loved to shower you with thanks, despite telling them it wasn’t necessary. You were just lucky to have the platform and wealth you have and you knew you wanted to use it well when you first started. It’s why your magazine, website, channel, and your shows were highly acclaimed. You and your workers told the truth and nothing but, mixed with fun tips, for all individuals alike. Honesty and kindness was very much needed and you are more than happy to give it away.
“By the way…” she trails off as she helps you zip the dress up. “Are you and Jimin dating?”
You still at her question. “Huh?”
“It just… he looks like a dorky little boyfriend following after you.”
You laugh nervously at her words, that annoying fluttering your stomach back as you speak of the guy. “He’s just a dork in general. And he’s my assistant, he has to follow me everywhere.”
She hums before patting the dress down for you, the both of you looking into the body length mirror. “You know that look Jungkook gets when I walk into a room?” You nod for response. It was grossly cute. The both of them would shoot up excitedly, eyes sparkling with unadulterated love. “That’s how he was acting when we met up.”
You deny her words by shaking your head, eyes wide. “No… he’s just a happy person.”
“Whatever you say.” She shrugs as she fixes up your hair. “Ready to show off your gorgeous self?”
“You flatter me too much.” You giggle, walking out of the dressing room with the woman. You feel nervous as you’re walking down the hallway and into the room you had rented out with your sister. Sadly, she couldn’t make it, having a few more cake tests with her fiancé, but you quickly rushed the lovely couple and your assistant who had been working all morning.
“Everyone, everyone, please, keep it in your pants.” June jokes as you fully walk into the room, shoes clacking against the marbled floor.
“How do I look?” You ask the two men, as the little girl squeals at the sight of you.
“Pretty auntie!” The little girl jumps up and down beside her father, clapping with excitement.
You send her a bright and loving smile. “Thank you, lovely.” You blow her a soft kiss, turning to look at her father. “Do I look like seaweed?” You ask, referring to the dark green color of the dress. He had teased about it before and promised to edit a picture of the dress next to a piece of seaweed.
“Slightly pretty seaweed.” He admits, making the two of you laugh. It’s then that you turn to Jimin, wanting to hear his opinion, but the awestruck look on his face makes your face feel hot.
“Is it nice?” You hadn’t ever felt so unsure of yourself, looking down at the pretty dress. It was a dark green mermaid dress with a slit at its side, showcasing your smooth leg. The upper half was built as a corset but it didn’t tighten like one usually did. Your shoulders are out on display with the off the shoulder top. It was pretty, despite the risky color, sure the hues would look just fine at the venue.
“You-you… uhm…” he coughs, turning away from you with a quick motion. “You l-look beautiful.” This time, it’s not just your stomach that flutters, heart skipping a beat at his kind compliment.
—
It would be a huge risk to ever get into a relationship with anyone you worked with. Your position stood higher than anyone else’s and it was a clear abuse of power. What if you asked someone out and they only agree because they’re afraid to lose their job? It wasn’t safe for your company.
But the more time that passed, the more you felt your mind ridden with thoughts of Jimin. Of his sweet smile, the way your hands would meet when you accidentally go for the same paper, the way his eyes shine bright when he spots something he likes, or the way he bites his plump lip when in deep concentration. You were completely enraptured with the thought of him and it wasn’t okay.
“I’ll go on the date.” You tell your mother as she sits in your office, clad in her typical two piece she often wore.
“Eeek!” She squeals, jumping up from her seat. “You’ve made me the happiest mother!” She takes your figure and wraps her tiny arms around you.
“Okay, okay, simmer down.” You groan, pulling from her hold. “It’s only one date. We probably won’t even click.”
“Don’t be so negative! You two are meant to be, I just know it!”
“Yeah, yeah,” you shrug her off. “Give him my number.”
“Already did.”
You turn to her with a look of bewilderment. “Mother, you can’t give out my number without my consent.”
“But he’s your soulmate.”
“And you’re insane.”
“I’ll ignore that because I’m too happy.” The knock on your door makes your mother turn, smiling as Jimin walks in. “Jiminie!” She greets him kindly as he bows respectfully to her.
“It’s lovely to see you again, ma’am.” His beautiful smile is on display, making you turn away before you get too wrapped up in him. “Just here to drop off some reports.” He displays the Manila folders, placing them onto your desk.
“Thank you.” You send him a stiff smile, turning immediately, missing the way his face falls.
“Jimin, I’m going to need you to make reservations at the best restaurant in the city.”
“Definitely, ma’am, could I ask who I should put it under?”
“The future wife and son-in-law!” She squeals like a schoolgirl.
“Mom,” you scold the older woman, sending Jimin an apologetic smile. “Stop being obnoxious.”
“Oh, would it be for your sister and her fiancé?” He questions, turning to you for confirmation.
“No, just my name.” You confirm.
“I finally got her to agree to a blind date and I’m getting a little ahead of myself,” your mother giggles. “Sorry!”
It’s eerily quiet for a second, Jimin’s mind catching up with the words thrown at him. Hesitantly, you look up at him, a shocked look on his face. “Don’t look too shocked, some people do find me pleasant.” It’s a joke (partly) but Jimin doesn’t seem to catch on.
“N-no! I-I… I know people find you pleasant! Not that I don’t. I do. I find you pleasant. More than pleasant actually. I didn’t mean to insinuate that you aren’t pleasant. Because you are. Like I’ve stated. Many… many… times.” He clears his throat as your mother watches the exchange with a raised eyebrow. “I-I’ll, uhm… I’ll make the reservations now.”
“Jimin.” You call out to the guy before he makes his way out of your office. He turns around rather quickly, making your mother jump in her spot, the room full of awkward tension. “I haven’t told you for when.”
He nods, refusing to look up at you. And just like that, timid Jimin is back.
—
“Do you want to look at me?” You question as you stand across from a kneeling Jimin whose hands shook as he picked up the spilled sheets.
“I-I’m busy.”
“I’m your boss, I’ll make sure you un-busy yourself.”
“That… that shouldn’t be happening.”
That was just the first occurrence. When you asked him to bring you lunch, he placed it quickly on your desk and left the room. Next, he assured you he could do his work from his desk outside. He wouldn’t come knocking at your door like he usually did, with a cup of water or snacks. He didn’t come skipping into your office to tell you of the latest gossip in the office, despite you not liking it, but it was nice to be kept in the loop.
It had gone on for a few more days until the day of your date. You had gone into work dressed a bit more prettier than you have before, sure you wouldn’t be able to go back home and change. Your pants were long and a black velvet touch. They flowed nicely down your legs but were tight around your waist, accentuating your curves. Your top was just a buttoned up Chanel tweed jacket, a black and white pattern drawn on it. You matched it with black Saint Laurent Opyum heels, and the prettiest jewelry dangling from your wrists, neck, and ears. You received countless compliments from your hard workers while heading into your office.
Sitting at your desk, you hopped right into your work, dismissing Jimin, sure he wasn’t up for talking like he had the past few days. It didn’t sit right with you to leave things so tense with him, but you also didn’t want to push him into telling you what the problem was. It would only push him further from you and it could be quite scary and triggering considering his past. You let him be. Despite how badly you wanted him to walk back into your cold office with his warm smile.
Clicking the intercom on your phone, you call the man up right after lunch. He doesn’t rush into your room like he usually does. “When I tell you to come quickly, I mean it.” You scold him. Despite what he was holding against you, he couldn’t fall behind in his work.
“I-I’m sorry.”
“I’m not asking for an apology. Just don’t do it from here on out.”
He nods, writing down all you needed him to do for the remaining hours of work. You felt a twinge of guilt at his shaky hands, but you couldn’t baby him at this time — despite how either of you were feeling, you needed to keep going or you’d end up risking a fallout with your channel. But you speak before he could leave, “I don’t mean to be mean. You’re due for a promotion and having you slack off only means you won’t receive it and I don’t want that for you.”
He nods, eyes still on the floor as he leaves the room. You let out a saddened sigh, rubbing at your temples in exasperation. The small ding from your phone makes you feel a bit of relief. ‘Can’t wait to see you! :)’ reads a text from Namjoon. Despite how kind he’s being, you ignore his message, putting your phone on silent, ignoring the world.
“Woah,” Jungkook pretends to grimace, covering his eyes with his hand at the sight of you.
“What?” You question frantically. “Do I look bad?”
“Your beauty just blinded me!” That earns a scoff from you, trying to hide your shy smile. He removes his hand with a laugh, poking at the dangling hoop from your ear. “Why are you so dolled up?”
“I’ve got that date, remember?”
“Oh yeah, with that Joon guy.” He nods, taking his cup of coffee in the cupboard of the office lunch room. “You excited?”
You shrug, glancing around the room. The space was small, a simple couch in the corner, a table in the middle and your typical kitchen appliances. It wasn’t used often, only for some in-between snacks and coffee, the cafeteria in your building being used more often.
“Aw, come on, it’s your first in like two years. Liven up.” He hums as he takes a sip of his warm coffee.
“I’m just a little nervous.” You admit. “It’s been too long. What if it goes deadly quiet. I’m bad at keeping conversation going.”
He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads. “Aren’t you the person who single handedly took down Park Jinyoung?”
“I didn’t take him down.” You scoff, tapping your acrylic nails against the white table.
“I’m pretty sure you destroying his company and dragging him for filth in your ‘Women’s Architect’ section of every platform of yours, is considered destroying him.”
“The women he hurt destroyed him. I simply wrote.”
“Wrote a dissertation and built up an entire case of all his crimes. You stood across a courtroom of people and didn’t stutter once. I’m sure you can figure out how to talk to a guy.” He shakes his head, trying to dismiss your bad feelings.
“Okay… but even then, I know how to destroy men, not speak sweetly to them.”
He lets out a chuckle at your admittance. “Men are weak. Just talk to him like you speak to a child, slow and careful. I’m sure he’ll like that.”
“I’m not treating my date like a child, that’s condescending.”
“Most men are.” He shrugs.
“You bear a lot of hatred towards your kind.”
“What can I say? Men are trash.” You laugh at his ridiculous smile.
It goes quiet for a second as Jungkook happily sips on his coffee. Your mind is running before deciding to ask what’s on your mind, “do you know what’s wrong with Jimin?” Jungkook turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “He won’t speak much to me and he seems terrified again.”
“He’s not so much terrified as he is upset.”
You feel your heart drop at his words. “Did I do something to upset him?”
“Not purposefully.”
“Do you want to tell me what I did?”
“No can do,” he clicks his tongue repeatedly. “I’d be breaking bro code.”
“Just now you hated all men, now you’re protecting one?” It’s a joke, but you’re sure he can see how badly you wanted to know how Jimin was.
“He’s my best friend,” he laughs at the worried look on your face. “I can’t do him like that.”
You scoff, “I was your friend first.”
“I’ll give you a clue since you’re too stupid to notice —
“That’s not nice.”
“This all started when you made him make you reservations for a date.”
“Does he not like his job?”
Jungkook sighs, putting his cup down in the sink. “You’re a lost cause.”
—
By the time night time rolls around, all of your employees are gone, as well Jimin. You hadn’t even been able to bid him a goodbye, sprinting out of the office once the clock hit five. It irked you a bit, but you figured he had a bad day — you had scolded him a few times too many. It was better he shake the day off instead of staying and perhaps messing up more with his muddled mind. And it happened at times, so you wouldn’t hold it against him.
But you couldn’t stop thinking of Jungkook’s so-called hint. The day he had walked into your office, not much had happened. Your mother behaved when you told her to, so it couldn’t be her mouthy self that made him upset. You hadn’t done anything either, other than make him rush to your drying cleaners and pick up your dress for a gala you need next week. But that was as far as you had gotten — it was an uneventful day.
You sigh, shaking your thoughts away, not wanting to be tense when you meet up with Namjoon, which was just a half an hour away. Putting your long jacket over your figure, you make way to grab your bag, only to jump when the door to your office is pushed open. You let out a small yell but calm down when you catch sight of Jimin, in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt too big for his small figure. His hair is messy, chest rising up and down as if he had sprinted up to the highest floor.
“Jimin? What’s wrong? Did you leave something behind?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I’m just heading out, do you think you can lock up if you’ll be here long?”
“Don’t go.” The look of confusion doesn’t go missed by him. “Don’t go on the date.”
“What?” You watched him carefully, “why not?”
“B-because…” he stutters, refusing to look at you. You put your bag down onto your desk, worried. “I-I, I… uhm…”
“Jimin,” you call out soflty. “Are you okay? If this is about today, I’m sorry for being harsh. You know I only do it to help—”
“I love you!” The room goes quiet at his sudden loud words. You take a step back at his loud voice, face falling. You can feel your heart beating hard against your chest, worried for him. “I-I don’t want to be sappy… but I can’t help it. I… I think I’ve loved you from the first day I met you. You were kind and you spoke so confidently — it was weird. I-in a good way!”
“Jimin…”
“I liked that you didn’t take any crap from Baekhyun, I like that you didn’t let him deter you from your business, I like that you took pity upon his lowly assistant and fetched some ice for me. You were the first person to show me kindness in so long. Even to this day — everything you do, you do for your workers, your company, you do it for me. Even when you’re yelling at me, I-I can’t help but love you more because you’re doing it to help me rise in your company. You’re that good.”
“Jimin, please…”
“I like that you like to mess around with your mother and sister, despite pretending you hate it when they’re around. I like that you bring Hyuna into your office when Jungkook has to care for her for the day. I like that you give everyone opportunities that they deserve. God, you’re such an amazing person and how everyone in the office hasn’t fallen madly in love with you is shocking but I did. I fell madly in love with you and I don’t… I can’t handle the idea of you going on a date with some random guy.”
“Jimin.” You breathe out shakily, mind muddled with his long and strong confession. Your stomach, the butterflies that you often felt for him dropped, sitting in your stomach, leaving an unsettling feeling. But your heart was completely different. It beat hard, a slight wave of excitement and happiness being covered by the bad emotions. “I’m your boss.”
“I-I don’t care. I’ll quit if I have to.” He rushes towards you, taking a hold of your hands.
“You shouldn’t have to quit your job for anyone.” You shake your head, refusing to let your feelings get the better of you. “I thought we talked about this? You can’t let others get in the way of your future.”
“I want you as my future.” He sounds as if he’s pleading with you. He lets out a small laugh as he begins once more, “I remember I used to be made fun of for telling my teacher’s that all I wanted in life is to be a good husband. No boy ever said that, they all wanted to be an astronaut or another cool job. But me… I always wanted someone I could be good to, someone I could love and care for until the end of time. I want that with you.”
“You don’t.”
“You can’t tell me what I’m feeling,” his beautiful eyes, the ones that hide when he smiles so bright were wide open, tears brimming them. “And I know you feel the same.”
You shake your head, pulling away from him. “I don’t.” He calls out for you, but you’ve grabbed your purse. “I expect to see you here tomorrow at 9 AM sharp.”
“Wait, no—”
“I can’t accept your feelings, Jimin.” It takes everything within you to turn him down. To take in his sweet words and not hold him, certain that those little things you felt around him meant the same. “I’m your boss. Nothing more, nothing less. Nine, tomorrow.”
“I-I…” he rushes after you, the sound of your heels clicking is the only thing heard as you make your way out of your office. You feel your hands shaking but you bring them up, hoping it goes undetected. “___, stop.”
“I’m running late.”
You make way into the elevator, pressing the button for the garage. You pray and hope the beloved guy doesn’t rush into the enclosed space with you… and he doesn’t. Rather, he stands ahead of the elevator, looking into the space and at you with such a pained look. You have to turn your head away, your own eyes brimming with tears at the sight of his hurt face.
“I… I quit…”
You nod your head, despite how frantic you feel at his resignation. “Okay. Send HR the official letter.” Is all you say before the doors close, giving you the space you had been begging for. Your back lays against the smooth wall, heart aching as a small sob racks your body.
—
“Do you know what fractions are?” You’re not yelling, but your tone is serious as you stare down at your office of employees. “Half of you are Ivy League graduates and you don’t know simple fractions?” The office is silent as you stare down at them.
You slam the folder down onto the nearest desk, making the intern jump up. “Who’s the dumbass who handed this in?”
Quiet once more. “That’s fine.” You scoff. “I hire my workers for their honesty, if you need help, you have a ton of resources and people around you. Don’t just sit on your desk like a moron, waiting on me to coddle you!” Now you were yelling. The smartest people you knew were staring back at you with wide and scared eyes, and it only irked you further.
“Jeon Jungkook.” Your glare is turned to the man who shot up from his seat. “Get your ass in my office. Now.” He shares a pitiful look with his coworkers who all push him into the lion’s den. But you ignore it all as you saunter back into your office.
It was a mess. There were papers strewn about the place and you felt as if you were going crazy. Nothing was organized, nothing was highlighted the way you liked it, and you had barely eaten without the constant nagging of the guy whose glasses you detested.
“Y-yes, ma’am?”
“Why the hell are you calling me ma’am?” You scoff, sitting at your desk. “Pick this up for me.”
He lets out a chuckle, “yeeaaah, no.” He shakes his head which only earns him a glare as he plops down onto the chair across your desk.
“I wasn’t asking.”
“I don’t really care.” He shrugs, kicking his feet up on your desk. “You should call him.”
“I’m not begging for him back.”
“I’m not saying to beg. But apologize.”
“Apologize for not liking him back? I have nothing to apologize for.”
“Could have let the man down better.” There goes that heinous shrugging.
“I don’t need to coddle a man when I reject them.”
“Why are you acting as if you don’t like him back?” There’s confusion evident on his face.
“I’m his superior.”
“You’re my superior and you let me run about this place.”
“I’m not dating you.”
“But you are the godmother to my daughter.”
“I’m still not dating you.”
“And you’re the boss. You make the rules.”
“Exactly. I need to set an example.”
He scoffs, “what example?”
“Of not abusing my power!”
“How is it abusing your power? He confessed to you. You never held anything against him… like ever. I just don’t understand how you’re looking at all this.”
You sigh dramatically, dropping your body further into your chair. “How is he?”
“Sad.”
“He shouldn’t be.”
“You can’t tell him how he should feel.”
“I’m not even all that. Tell him to move on. He’s young and pretty — he’ll get better.”
“Hmm.” The guy hums out, nodding as he looks about the room. “I know you’re like deathly afraid you’re going to become Baekhyun—”
“Who said that?”
“But this isn’t a Baekhyun situation.” He ignores your scoff. “Baekhyun treated him like he was scum. Beat him when he didn’t match the pace he wanted him to. You haven’t given any indication that you would hurt another person in such a malicious way.”
“But he abused his power.” You repeat, hoping your point comes across. Because he was right. Baekhyun was the type of man you detested, the type of man that you worked for before you managed to make it big by crawling to the top. You knew what it felt like to only say yes because your career was on the line and Jimin did too. How could you ever look your peers in the face after pulling such a cruel act? “I’d be abusing my power. I’d be another Baekhyun and that guy can not… he can’t go back to being a wimpy kid who fell to his knees for everyone.”
“First of all, harsh.” You roll your eyes.
“You know I mean to harm, but you saw how often others would throw their work at him because he couldn’t say no.”
“Yeah… but he’s so much better. I don’t remember the last time he ever agreed to something he didn’t want. Working here, under you specifically, has changed him for the better. I’m not gonna say some sappy shit like ‘you changed him’ because you and I both know that’s not true — you’re sort of a bitch.”
“I can literally fire you for that.”
“He changed for himself and he did it because you helped him out of a situation that beat him down. That’s all you did. The rest? He did it himself. He worked to get to a comfortable place in his life because his circumstances changed and that… that’s beautiful. He saw the beauty and hope in that because he’s cheesy as hell, and you can’t blame him for falling for the amazing woman who yelled at him a little too much.”
You sit in silence, taking his words in. And he was damn right. Jimin was a strong person, he had been through more than half of your friends and family had ever gone through in life. Yet, he stood tall, always kind and always bright. It was almost unbelievable to you how strong an individual could be in such a situation — you weren’t even sure if you were strong enough for it. But he is. Park Jimin is the epitome of complete hard work and passion that you struggled with and he was the only person who could ever make you stumble.
“How was the date with Namjoon?”
“We’re both hung up on other people.” You sigh, grabbing a pen and placing it between your fingers, moving it anxiously.
“So you admit it.” The smile on his face makes you roll. “Do what you will with what I said, but I think you two could work nicely together.”
“Jungkook?”
“Yes, Wonder Woman?”
“Call me a bitch again and I’ll fire you with absolutely no severance.”
“You love me too much for that.”
“You’re fired.”
—
Despite your date with Namjoon going in a completely different direction, you still kept in contact. He sent you countless threads of messages cooing at how the head of his legal team was utterly adorable. In return, you kept him updated on your own situation. He listened to your rant a few nights ago, where he not once interrupted you. He was a great friend, and you were glad you went to that tasty restaurant that night.
Now, he was sitting besides you as you and all the other bridesmaids spoke to your sister.
Your sister immediately took a liking to him, and you felt like a third wheel as they clicked. Your sister teased you with the fact that he really was perfect and mom would snatch him up. You shrugged it off though, letting the makeup artist fix you up. Your silence didn’t go undetected by her, giving Namjoon a look which he oddly understood within the two hours of knowing her. He ushered the other bridesmaids out of the room, promising to give out the number of his most promised artist, leaving you and your favorite person in the messy room.
“Want to tell me what’s wrong.”
“Not really.”
“It wasn’t actually a question,”
You scoff, “you’re a horrible sister.”
“Cry about it.”
You sigh, turning in your seat to face her. She sat in her comfortable chair looking beautiful. Her face was painted with the most expensive makeup she could get her hands on, for the picture of course. She wore a simple white slip which would be worn under her white dress for the most romantic day of her life. She was the epitome of absolute beauty and grace. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t envy her growing up, but as you grew older, you realized she was just as human as you, strengthening your bond.
“You never told me how you and Jin met.” You watch as her eyes brighten at the mention of her beloved fiancé. You almost scoff at the loving look.
“God… it feels like you so long ago.” She hums, reminiscing on their love story. “I hated him.”
Your eyes widen at her admittance. “What?”
She nods, popping her mouth. “He was the worst. So cocky, entitled, his ego was through the roof.”
“Ew.” A grimace falls on your face, slightly shuddering. “How the hell did you fall for him? How the hell is he not any of those things? He’s the nicest person I know.”
“It took a lot of work.” She laughs at the shock on your face. “You know how I was in Alpha Phi?” You nod. “He was in Delta Chi. We didn’t interact much at first, not until the president of our sorority started dating the president of his frat. We were all pushed to one another from there, all our fundraisers and community service began to mesh up simply because Hera and Daniel wanted to spend time together.”
“This is like out of a romcom.” You moved around your seat, finding comfort in your sister’s story and love filled words and trance.
“One of my sorority sisters was hung up on him. The douche he was, he slept with her and completely ghosted her.”
You gasp, “what an ass!”
“Right? I tell him that to this day!” The two of you share a giggle. “But she pushed me to ask him if he had a girlfriend, because despite how loved he was on campus, no one actually knew a thing about him. And so I asked. The little shit thought I was interested in him!”
You scoff. “Little shit.” You reiterate her words.
“God, he was so annoying. He hung around me like a lost puppy. He was cocky, swore I’d fall for him, swore he’d make me see how much I was supposedly missing.”
“Men and their egos.” You roll your eyes.
“I can’t lie… he was stunning… so I sorta liked the chase but I knew I wouldn’t give him any time of day. But he still stuck around, even when my sorority sisters would glare him down, the ball of weirdness stayed by my side. I don’t know how it happened… but after a few arguments in the beginning, we just sorta became friends.” She shrugs, fidgeting with the bottom of her slip. “He gave up on chasing me and I was more than happy. We fell into a nice friendship. Remember Uriel?”
“Ugh, that douche you dated your junior year?”
“Yeah… Jin didn’t like him. At all. They couldn’t even be in the same room. And… well, you know how that went down.” And you did. The sorry excuse of a man cheated on her and in turn blamed her for being friends with other men (for being friends with Jin really.). It was around the same time you began to realize your sister was just like you. Lost and reeling from the pain of losing the one man who was supposed to stick by your side forever. “I wallowed in pity with him. He helped me out of my slump and I won’t exactly go into details, but we argued. Big time. Worse than ever before and split. No texts. No glances. We acted like we didn’t know one another.”
Your eyes widen as you remember what happened next. You were a senior in high school, sitting around the kitchen island when Seokjin showed up to your home, drenched and carrying some messed up flowers. Your sister scolded him that night, “there’s a hurricane warning!” she yelled as she dragged him in. Now, you were too entranced in your own messed up love life with Taehyung (who you had barely begun the talking phase with) that you hadn’t realized what was really happening.
She had dragged him into the house where you ran up to your room, giddy to speak to Tae. Your mother though, she watched as her eldest continuously scolded the man who looked at her like she hung the stars. She excitedly told you of how your sisters promised she’d hate him until the end of time if he ever pulled such a dangerous stunt until he asked to kiss her, despite her anger. She had said no and he respected it. The two sat in silence after that until your sister had enough and kissed him first.
You and your mother squealed together that next morning and teased the two of them when she made breakfast for you all. Despite not having the biggest age gap, Seokjin treated you like a sister. But the one you would tease and punch the number amount of times on their birthday. You spent countless nights at the apartment later on, broken after you were fired by the boss who took you for granted. You spent countless nights in their living room when you were so broke you couldn’t afford to buy yourself basic necessities such as toothpaste.
And throughout it all, you saw how much they loved one another. It wasn’t the type of relationships you saw throughout college — toxic. Always fighting, jealousy, forbidding things from one another. It was the healthiest relationship you had seen, besides your parents of course. But you had such perfect examples of love your entire life, you felt embarrassed for being such a wimp.
“Why do you ask?” Her interest is piqued as she watches you shut your eyes right with a loud groan.
“I think I’m in love.”
“With Jimin.” It’s not a question, rather, a statement.
You perk up, looking at her carefully. “How do you know?”
“Mom called me the day you agreed to the blind date. We had our suspicions in the past but she confirmed it with the way he reacted.”
“And you guys didn’t tell me anything?” You hiss out, smacking her arm.
“What were we supposed to do?” She laughs at your distress. “You’re the most emotionally constipated person we know. We sorta figured you would go to him on your own terms.”
“What if I had wafted towards Namjoon?”
“You would have never fallen for that dork.” She scoffs.
You smile gently, thinking of your bigger dork. The guy whose main wardrobe piece was those hideous vests he loved. The guy who’s glasses fogged up when he was nervous around you. The guy who made sure you took care of yourself throughout the day, refilling your bottle with water or bringing you light meals because you were on another crazy diet. The guy who managed to fight against every scary thought of his to confess, only for his nightmares to come true. You rejected him without a second thought. Tossed him to the side as if he meant nothing to you.
A loud knock on the door makes you both jump. “It’s just me!” Jin’s familiar voice is heard. “Can I come in? There’s some annoying guy in my room trying to get me to join his company!”
You and your sister snicker at the thought of Namjoon chasing after the beautiful man. “Okay, but close your eyes.” Your sister rushes to open the door for him.
“Are you in your dress already? I’m going to cry if you say you are.” He questions as he stumbles into the room, hand placed over his eyes.
“I’m not, love.” Your sister laughs at her fiancé. “But my makeup is too pretty to spoil.”
He lets out a loving sigh, holding onto her hand with his free one. “You look so pretty.”
“You can’t even see me.” She laughs.
“I don’t need to! I can feel it around me. Like this pretty aura.”
“You guys are so gross.” You groan in your seat, yearning to be as sickly sweet as the two.
“Hey, bug.” Seokjin greets you, “ready to party?”
“I’m ready to gouge my eyes out. Seriously, you guys are gross.”
“Don’t be mean to my beautiful fiance on her wedding day!”
“Jinnie, guess what?” Your sister squeals excitedly. “___’s in love!”
“With Jimin?”
“Yes!”
“Why does everyone know this?”
“Whatever your mom tells your sister, she tells me. It’s, like, rule number one to dating. Always tell your significant other.”
“Whatever.” You scoff, a smile on your face as you watch the two giggle to one another.
—
“Jeon Jungkook, I’m going to kill you!”
“There’s a child in the car! I can’t drive faster!”
Hyuna giggles in her seat as her mom coos at her. The two were dragged out of the after party to the beautiful ceremony your sister had. Their vows made everyone in the church cry, you ended up awkwardly comforting one of the aunts whose perfume made you want to sneeze. You felt a bit bad rushing out from your sister’s party after the toasts, but she urged you to go after Jimin.
Now, you were in Jungkook’s hideous dad car, a van painted a hideous shade of green. There were toys sprawled about the vehicle, and a few splatters of food from the toddlers previous lunches. From when? You were too scared to ask. You never wanted children.
“No, idiot, you passed his house!”
“Oh.” He shrugs, turning back around. “Sorry… it’s weird not having a screen for the GPS.”
“Hey, what happened to your old car? It was prettier than this contraption.” You look around the inside of the car. The seats were all a suede material, an ugly tinge of grey.
—drabble, 0.7k words, written while ‘with you’ played in the background, i am undoubtedly in love with it (and him)
april 26, 4:02 a.m.
hey, um… sorry about sending you a message out of the blue like this… i don’t really know why i’m calling… messaging, sorry… which uh, i suppose is good because this probably won’t go through. you changed your number, right? it’s been more than half a year.
i…
never mind.
april 28, 3:12 a.m.
why do i always think about you in the middle of the night?
i think i have insomnia. it might be a side effect of this new medication i’m being forced to take. i hate it. i hate that i have to take it. i hate that i’m stressed out enough to be taking it.
i can hear you laughing. you know my animosity towards medication more than anything. remember when my brother called me an anti-vaxxer and you fell out of your chair laughing? god… i hated you for that. you were supposed to take my side, you know?
i wonder if you take her side even when she’s wrong.
april 28, 3:21 a.m.
[THIS MESSAGE WILL BE DELETED FROM THE CHATROOM. HOWEVER, IT MAY NOT BE DELETED FOR CERTAIN USERS DEPENDING ON THE VERSION OF CHATTERBOX THEY ARE USING]
april 30, 1:36 p.m.
i missed the train. i’ll be late for work, probably by 10-15 minutes. it’s just a job, but i’d give anything for you to wrap your arms around me right now and tell me ‘it’s okay.’
may 2, 7:05 p.m.
i saw her picture in the newspaper today. she won a dance competition. she looks so pretty. i think she’s the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. i know you’re not shallow enough to go for someone just because they’re pretty but it certainly helps, doesn’t it?
i like her hair a lot. thick and brown. and it curls just perfectly. i bet you love twirling your fingers around it. i can imagine the way your fingers get lost in the strands.
do you run your fingers through them when you kiss her? i can still feel the ghost of your fingers on my cheeks.
may 4, 4:49 a.m.
i can’t sleep again. and i miss you… again.
you taught me so much when we were together. i wish you’d taught me how to be without you, too.
may 9, 10:14 p.m.
are you eating well? resting? do you have someone to massage your shoulders?
i know that spot on your shoulder blade always bothers you. please rest. i know you always give one hundred percent but it’s okay to give eighty or seventy or fifty sometimes. it’s okay to be human.
may 17, 9:45 p.m.
i had kimchi jjiggae tonight. i still don’t like it, i’m sorry. but i ate more this time than all the other times. are you proud?
may 20, 12:00 a.m.
my co-worker is getting married. she said she’d invite me. it’ll be a summer wedding. she says she’s so busy with work that she never really has time to focus on wedding planning. i said i’d help her so i’m pulling overtime now.
it’s selfish. i do want to help her, but only because it’ll be a good distraction.
may 21, 4:56 p.m.
two weddings this summer, i guess.
congratulations. i’m so happy for you.
july 17, 11:33 p.m.
i went on a date today. he was a decent guy. he picked me up in his car. we went to a nice restaurant. he told me about his hobbies, and halfway through, i excused myself to go to the restroom. but i didn’t go there. i called a taxi and left.
don’t worry, i apologized to him. i don’t think it means much. he blocked me. which is okay, i suppose. i didn’t like his nose. it was too much like yours.
july 20, 11:07 p.m.
a song release a week before your wedding? you’re as ambitious as they make them, chim.
it’s beautiful. hauntingly beautiful. i cried on the bus home. but you probably wrote this song knowing you’d make people cry.
you’re such a little shit. you always make me cry.
i despise you.
july 26, 3:57 a.m.
please don’t marry her.
please… please… jimin… please…
please… i love you. i’m so pathetically in love with you. please. please don’t do this to me.
Summary: Everyone warned you that your high school sweetheart, Jae, was trouble, but you ignored them. You became trouble itself, but it was for love - that’s what you told yourself, anyway. Jae became corrupt and practically ran you into the arms of another man. You’d fallen in love with rival gang member Park Jimin, and Jae had plans to get revenge.
Hoseok was weary on how to suggest his newfound plan to you and Jimin. “I know how to get you and Y/N off of Namjoon’s radar.” Jimin immediately turned his head to face Hoseok. He was all ears for anything at this point.
“What is it?”
“You do what I did, make Namjoon think you’re dead!” Hoseok felt like a genius, he couldn’t believe that he was the first person to think of this plan.
Jimin’s first instinct was to decline and think of a different plan. In Hoseok’s case, he lost everything. Contact to family, contact to friends, and his own identity. It didn’t sound like a good idea to him, but he’d consider anything if he could be with you. “How is that going to work? You barely pulled it off.”
Hoseok pondered this for a minute. Jimin did have a good point and it was more unlikely to succeed due to the fact there would be two people’s deaths to fake.
“Romeo and Juliet.”
“What?”
“Romeo and Juliet! You know, Juliet “dies” and Romeo can’t live without her because he loves her so much? Too bad she wasn’t really dead…”
“So how do you presume we kill off Y/N in the first place? Only Namjoon is after her. How else would she be killed if it isn’t by his own hands?”
A thought occurred to you as you saw Jungkook kicking the ground and looking at the ceiling.
“Jungkook, would you be willing to go back to Namjoon and lie to him?”
“What do you mean, Y/N?”
“I mean, so you’re not in trouble AND it helps us. Tell Namjoon you killed me! That will explain why you left and will instill more trust in you with him.”
“I don’t know about this, you guys…” Jungkook sighed, and avoided eye contact with all parties. “This doesn’t sound like the safest thing.”
It wasn’t a safe plan in the slightest, but it was all they’d come up with so far. They couldn’t run from Namjoon forever. “Jungkook, we will make sure that nothing happens to you.” Hoseok said, placing his hand on the younger’s shoulder.
Jungkook took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Over the course of the rest of the night, the four of you brainstormed how exactly this was going to go down. You decided that Jungkook was going to tell Namjoon that he shot you in the head, and that Jimin couldn’t stand to live without you and shortly killed himself thereafter.
Jungkook left the house early the next morning so he would get to the headquarters at a decent time. He recited the story to himself on the way there so that he’d have no problem telling it to Namjoon.
He pulled up outside the warehouse and took a deep breath before opening his car door. The walk up to the door seemed long, mainly because his nerves were out of control. What if Namjoon didn’t believe him?
Namjoon opened the door before Jungkook had the chance to knock. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for days. Get in here.” He shut the door behind Jungkook. “Why do you look so antsy?”
“I have good news, sir. Very good news.” Jungkook held his hands together in front of him in an attempt to contain the nerves.
“Tell me.”
“They’re both dead.”
Namjoon knew who he wanted Jungkook to be referring to, but he had to be safe. “Specify. Who is ‘they’?”
Jungkook’s throat was dry and it felt like he had a lump in his throat. He could bribe old men to give him guns for a discount for days, but the second he tried to lie, it was game over. “You know, they…” Jungkook started, trying his hardest to keep his eyes locked on Namjoon. “Jimin and the girl.”
Namjoon was weary. He couldn’t tell if he was being serious. “How’d they die, give me the joy of telling me in detail how they died. Did you kill them? You might be up for a raise if that’s the case.”
“Yes, sir.” Jungkook was definitely sweating. His hands were moist and he couldn’t help but stutter as he spoke. “I killed Y/N, the girl, first. I shot her.”
“No way. She was your first kill, yes?” Namjoon led Jungkook into the kitchen and sat him down. He took a seat in front of him. Crossing his leg over the other and intertwining his fingers with each other. “Go on.”
“I showed up where they were staying, it was really easy to find actually. Some shithole in the city. I told them I wanted to help them and they believed me.” This whole lying thing wasn’t so hard anymore, Jungkook said to himself. “I shot her when Jimin was asleep. I told him that you broke in and that I tried to stop you. He believed me.”
Namjoon chuckled. “You told him that? You really are a good liar. Continue.” He raised an eyebrow as he listened intently to the rest of Jungkook’s story.
Jungkook paused, realizing that he’s changed parts of the story. He may have ruined everything. May have. “He.. he said he couldn’t live without her. Jimin killed himself. He took a bunch of pills. I… I didn’t want him to do that, I wanted you to be the one to kill him. Wouldn’t that have been great?”
“Yeah, great. Listen, here’s what’s going to happen, okay? Listen closely, Jungkook.” Namjoon uncrossed his legs and pulled a pistol from his belt, loading and cocking the hammer. “You’re going to tell me the truth. Tell me why you’re here, and then you’re going to admit that they aren’t really dead. We both know that, right? As much as I’d just love for them to be dead, that isn’t what happened, is it?” Namjoon shook his head, answering his own question before Jungkook had the chance. “So now, you’re going to tell me where they really are, and we’re gonna head over there. Sound good?”
Jungkook was paralyzed with fear. He was shocked, to say the least, that Namjoon had seen right through his lie.
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you…they’re dead.”
Namjoon chuckled, pointing the gun at Jungkook. “You’re a good kid, you know that? I had high hopes for you. But that’s not going to happen if you’re not cooperating.”
Jungkook shuddered, but managed to keep his cool. Jimin was his best friend, and he didn’t want anything to happen to him. He was always there to help Jungkook out through his bad thoughts. Jimin was like a big brother to him, and he wouldn’t sell him out for the world. Taking a deep breath and with tears welling up in his eyes, Jungkook smiled at Namjoon.
Genre:Smut. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Roommates AU.
WC: 10.2k
Summary:Both Jimin and you are determined to never act on the feelings you hold for one another. Instead, you’d rather shove it down, somewhere deep, dark, and inaccessible. So what do you get when you mix a broken furnace, an old victorian home, a little bit of jealousy in the club, and a need to keep warm together? A mess.
Warnings & Tags: Cursing. Reader is really freakin cold. Jimin sleeps in the nude. Spooning. Grinding. Obscene daydreaming about your best friend. Sex dreams. Mentions of alcohol. Dancing. Jimin is a little jealous. Masterbation. Unexpected visual. Super soft makeout. Fingering. Orgasm denial. Sex. Slight power play. Creampie.
AN:Oof! Finally! A Jimin fic! Thank you to @thatlongspringnight for guiding me through the last 6k of this fic, all written in one day and for being the most brilliant, queen of queens level beta reader. A big thanks to @triviasapphic too, for letting me use their likeness!
This is very loosely based on this askbeautifully submitted by the loveliest @jinpanman for the milestone request party!
