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
Request: fluff: Friend group travelling (wherever inspires you most! I’m thinking someplace like Hawai where they visit secret beaches and stuff! Site-seeing in the city could also be interesting!). Jimin and and OC know eachother through friends. OC is independent and not TOO into the whole adventuring deal but does it to enjoy some quality time with her friends. Jimin is flirty and playful and makes the trip all the more interesting for her. (I don’t know how you want to set it up but maybe two friends are dating and they invite their two seperate friend groups on this trip to meet. Or maybe it’s a wedding and OC is a bridesmaid? Anything works honestly!) - @silviasgotyourback
Description: You’re not too keen on…you know…risk-taking. In fact, it scares you to your core. But when your close friend Kim Namjoon gets in your head, you agree to a crazy trip to Fiji with him and his pals. But what happens when one of those pals – specifically Park Jimin – sweeps you off your feet not only figuratively, but literally?
A/N: Wow what a long break I’ve taken haha! But I’m back (kinda) to post some one shots (slowly)! I’ve been working really hard on my graduate school writing sample and auto statements, and I’ve just started my senior year of college AND started a new job so I’ve been incredibly busy! I apologize nonetheless for my absence. It’s felt horrible being away. Very guilty lol. Anyway, thank you my dear for requesting and for being so so so SO patient with me. I hope you like the result!
Also, if you want to follow me on Twitter please do so! My handle is @/nirvana_namu. I would post a link, but rumor has it Tumblr killed links and I’m not taking any chances.
- Mercury
You’re not sure why you agreed to this.
Standing at the tippy top of a mountain, looking out over the entire surf as it roils in the golden island sun, you watch your best friend get strapped into a harness with a laugh that echoes through the humid air. His gaze is focused downward, along the slope of treetops leading to the water. A zipline. A really steep, really fast one. One of the longest in the world! Namjoon had proclaimed with no small measure of wonder in his round eyes before you’d boarded the plane side by side only a day prior. If you weren’t so scared, you’d want to paint it.
You really don’t know why you agreed to do any of this.
The vested employee adjusts the straps secured around Namjoon’s hips, tugs them once or twice — not nearly enough by your standards — and mumbles something unintelligible into the receiver of a walkie-talkie. Enveloped in greenery, Namjoon pauses to turn and look at you and, upon snagging your eyes, offers a big, stupid, dimpled grin. He waves one hand over his head at you as you wait to be loaded into the next harness. And it looks like his eyes are squinted against the sun, but really they’re squinted from the sheer force of his joy. A joy too big to be contained in a smile alone.
That’s exactly why, you think to yourself with a grimace as you shamble forward along the worn footpath, second-to-last in line, arms crossed over your torso as if they can protect you from whatever fresh hell Namjoon’s planned out.
The employee pats Namjoon’s bare shoulder before releasing him and sending him speeding down the swaying cable with a scream so loud it pierces your ears. His body falls out of sight for a frozen millisecond before the cable gives a mighty bounce and his head reappears, bobbing up and down as he slides toward the bottom. You wince, more out of fear than discomfort, and pause to peek over the edge of the loading platform, following the line of the cable all the way to the bottom. Your heart races as your eyes trace the dense tree line, seemingly endless, and the sheer drop that had claimed Namjoon just seconds before.
And that’s when, as you sweep your twitching gaze out behind you, you lock eyes with Park Jimin. Standing behind you, the very last of the group to depart down the cliffside, his lips are quirked into a smirk that reads cocky and his brows are raised, unyielding eyes stuck on you like tree sap. Of all people to be stuck with on the top of a mountain…
Your face goes hot and your spine stiffens by a few degrees. You stare back at him, trying to discern any measure of fear in his smiling expression, his half-exposed teeth, his rosy cheeks, his teasing brown eyes. But instead all you see is, as usual, a perfect facade of composure.
Well, that and a sinfully handsome face.
He saunters up beside you, scans you from head to toe, and hums a little. “Nervous?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know.
You clear your throat, fan yourself with your hand as a futile defense against the jungle heat, and nod your head once. “Mm.”
Upon hearing your response, Jimin’s demeanor shifts a little. He uncrosses his arms and his smirk slips, brows raising. He leans closer to examine your face and you avert your gaze, heart hammering. “Whoa, you’re actually spooked, huh,” he remarks before glancing around the platform. “Shit, I don’t think the guide’s gonna let you turn back now.”
You’d expected him to make fun of you, perhaps laugh at your weak constitution. But this…
This is new.
Though well-meaning, Jimin’s words serve only to set your palms sweating and your heart racing faster. Your throat feels a little funny, tight like asthma. You shift your weight from foot to foot. “I-It’s fine,” you mumble, sliding past him as the employee beckons you forward with a lazy wave. “I’ll just…do it.”
Jimin hangs close behind you as the employee begins strapping you in, not sparing even a single word for you. “Hey, uh, my friend’s a little nervous,” Jimin says lowly to the young man working on hooking the harness around your hip. He glances up to meet your eyes before looking toward Jimin. “Any way you can, like, go gentle or something?” Jimin offers a convincing smile, the kind of grin that could get anyone to do anything.
The employee surprises you by releasing a puffy laugh and straightening to his full height, pausing to pat the dust off the backs of his legs. He chuckles and pats your back. “I can’t control the cable,” he says, then pauses for a moment to think. “But…,” he continues as Jimin turns pleading eyes his way, “if you’re feeling really nervous, I’ve heard it helps to shut your eyes and count to ten. Like, tell yourself you’re definitely gonna do it once you reach ten and just…go.”
You swallow hard and inhale sharply through your nose. “Alright,” you say, but his words have fled from your brain as soon as they’d been uttered. Your voice is shaky. Almost as shaky as your hands as you raise them to grip the straps of your harness.
Have you always had such a strong grip?
Your brain goes a little fuzzy, looking out over the precipice on which you stand, unsteady feet and rushing pulse. It’s dizzying. Like the world is spinning, but you’re not spinning with it. Or perhaps you’re spinning and it’s the world that’s gone still. Either way, the stretch of trees extending far beyond the tips of your hiking boots looks like it’s swaying on an axis, and each blink tilts the view some different way. You wonder if you’re breathing enough, or maybe too much, because your head is spinning. Like when you stand up too quickly after sitting for a while. You wonder if you’ll pass out before you reach the bottom.
If you reach the bottom.
Jesus, you hadn’t even considered the possibility of this stupid cable snapping. It doesn’t look too stable, upon closer inspection. Bouncing in the breeze. And as the employee finishes strapping you in, you pause for a moment to move your legs about and find, to your horror, that the straps are slightly loose.
Oh God.
You’re gonna throw up.
“Hey,” says a soft voice from beside you.
You feel a warm hand slide along the skin of your upper back, resting to cup your shoulder. Slowly, you turn your toward Jimin, standing with one arm wrapped around you and the other braced on his own knee so he can level his eyes with yours. He’s smiling a little. A different one this time, a soft one. The wind blows his dark hair from his eyes and carries the scent of his cologne. Somehow, you feel yourself relax a little against his side.
“It’s gonna be okay, alright?” he asks gently, and this is an entirely new Park Jimin to you. A tender young man with kind eyes. He smiles again and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “I’m right behind you.”
And for some reason, that comforts you. You don’t have time to dissect it however, as the employee takes up your other side and raises his brows, asking silently if you’re ready to go. Of course, you aren’t. How can you be? But again, Jimin squeezes your shoulder and seizes your attention with another smile, this one turning his eyes to crescents as he nods his head.
“Um…yeah,” you say, taking a moment to focus on your breath.
“Remember,” says Jimin as he steps away from you. “Count to ten, okay?”
“Okay,” you say, shutting your eyes.
One.
You’re gonna do it.
Two.
On ten, you’re just gonna go.
Three.
It’ll be fine.
Four.
Joon did it, and he’s fine.
Five.
And Tae before him, and that guy Jimin brought.
Six.
Nobody’s died yet.
Seven.
You can do it too.
Eight.
And even if I’m scared, at least you’re not alone up here.
Nine.
Jimin’s right behind you.
Ten.
Your scream rips through the valley below.
And, seconds later, so does your unfettered laughter.
You met Park Jimin on the worst day of your life a month ago. Freshly laid off from your job as a financial analyst — a job which Namjoon disliked from the start —, and disappointed by a string of bad dates after a catastrophic breakup, you’d agreed to meet up with a few college friends for a drink at your local stomping ground. You’d found Jimin sitting in the middle of a smoky bar with a girl on one arm and a guy on the other. Gross, was all you’d thought in passing. You’d paid him little mind, too busy wallowing in your own self pity to think too hard about any one thing, but it seemed he was incessant on grabbing your attention by any means necessary.
You’d sidled up to the bar, awaiting Namjoon’s I’m here text, and had only just ordered your drink when the strange young man with the unusually bright smile took up the space beside you. Now alone, he offered you a grin and his hand for you to shake. For a few seconds, you only stared at his outstretched palm. At the lines cutting across it. What was that long line called? The life line?
Eventually, however, you realized he wasn’t going anywhere, planted firmly in the wobbly barstool to your right, and you relented with a handshake. But that wasn’t what this stranger was after. He yanked you just a little once your hands connected.
“Hey, honey!” he said as he pulled you in toward his chest, sweeping you up in a tight, firm hug that knocked the wind from your lungs.
You were neither playful enough nor drunk enough to reciprocate and instead sat there stiffly, arms pressed against your sides as the stranger with the cute face hugged you close. Over his shoulder, you locked eyes with the girl who’d previously ornamented his left arm, watching you keenly, and it didn’t take you long to understand what was going on.
“Dodging an ex?” you whispered without moving your lips too much.
You felt a wave of shivers trace up your spine and it only took you a few seconds to realize why. It was just the sort of thing you imagined Hanseul doing if he ever bumped into you…
He chuckled. “Two, actually,” he responded as the young man he’d been entertaining also lifted his eyes from his drink to give you a once-over.
You sighed. “You’d better be buying my drink,” was all you said as the two of you broke away.
He’d laughed — that melodic sort of laugh that made you feel a little floaty — and rubbed your shoulder with a grin. “I’ll buy you twenty,” he joked, sliding the bartender a bill as he returned with your cocktail.
“So how’d you manage to get caught up with two exes at once?” you asked, nursing your glass.
He rubbed his jaw and shook his head, smiling at the bar table before him. “They were friends to begin with,” he said. And when you said nothing, only recoiled slightly, he met your eyes with a bright laugh. “C’mon don’t give me that look!”
You cleared your throat, turned away, and worked your straw between your teeth. “I dunno, sounds like maybe you brought it on yourself then,” you said, taking a healthy sip.
The stranger laughed again — more like a disbelieving scoff — and adjusted one of the several rings on his slender fingers. “Well I didn’t ask the two of them to come out tonight,” he said with a shrug. “And besides, neither of them looked unhappy to see me.”
“Ugh,” you mumbled, eyeing him sidelong as he chuckled.
He smirked and leaned across the bar toward you. “What?” he asked, and something about the heavy-lidded look he gave you, the simmering something in his eyes, made your pulse quicken. He rested his cheek in his hand and cocked his head to the side, now close enough to smell a whiff of his cologne. “You think I’m a bad guy?”
You swallowed hard before downing the rest of your drink and slamming the glass back on the bar. You waved the bartender over and pointed to the empty glass. Wordlessly, he began fixing you a replacement. You peeked back at the guy to find him smiling at you, musing perhaps, with the strangest mix of curiosity and pity in his expression.
You were definitely going to need another drink.
“Do good guys usually do stuff like that?” you asked, watching the bartender as he shook your drink around his metal tumbler.
He chuckled. “Can goodness be quantified by things like who we date?” he asked.
You stiffened. “Not by who you date,” you continued, shaking your head as memories of your own ex resurfaced. “But who you hurt, sure.”
He rolled his eyes, swiveling in his barstool to look at you head on. “Why’s it my fault who gets hurt?” he asked.
You cocked a brow. “You…can’t be serious…” But from the expression he wore you were certain that he was indeed quite serious.
He shrugged. “It’s not my intention to hurt someone, so why do I have to take responsibility if they get hurt?” he asked, then smirked and gave your thigh a nudge with his knee. “The way I see it, if you get hurt you’re the one whose expectations were too high.”
“That’s gross,” you said, inching away. You were inclined to simply leave, abandon this conversation and the bar at large and call it a night. But the bartender wasn’t finished with your drink and you weren’t about to piss him off. Not on a day like today. “If you’re dating someone, you’re committing to them.”
“What about polyamorous people?” he countered with a smug grin.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not talking about polyamorous people. I’m talking about monogamy.”
“But why does everyone expect monogamy?” asked Jimin, tossing his hands up in the air with a breathy laugh. “Anyway, I always make it clear from the start that I’m not the kind of person who wants to be…well, you know…,” he started, then furrowed his brow and waved his hand. “Like, in a relationship.”
You sighed, nodded your thanks to the bartender as he slid you your drink, and watched as Jimin again offered cash in return. “And that’s fine, but you can’t expect someone to stick around and be okay with that.” You rubbed your temples as memories swirled together. “Be okay with half of you.”
If you really loved me, you’d understand that I could have any person in the world and you’d still be my number one!
Scumbag.
This gave him pause and, slowly, he shifted his eyes your way once more, scanning you. “Half of me?”
You nodded and downed a gulp of your drink with a wince. “Giving half is fine if the other person is giving half too. If you both only expect half,” you began, then ran your hands along your neck. Your skin was feverish, alcohol making your head light. “But if one person wants more, it’s not fair to string them along.”
He stared at you gravely, eyes hard and jaw set, and furrowed his brow. “That’s too old-school,” he said.
You huffed and crossed your arms. “It’s not old-school!” you said, wagging a finger at him. “It’s about respecting the other person enough to let them go when you realize you can’t be what they need.”
He pouted a little and rolled his eyes. “You sound ancient,” he said, then paused to give you a knowing smirk. “Wait, don’t tell me,” he began, scooting closer with a conspiratorial look. “You were scorned by your ex. Like…I dunno, like they cheated or something. Broke your heart, ruined your trust, blah, blah, blah. And now you’ve got this vendetta or something because you got hurt.” He grinned and wiggled his brows.
You stiffened, eyes wide, and stared at him. “I…,” you began.
He laughed from his gut and nodded. “Ah, nailed it, didn’t I?” he asked.
There was a cruel edge to his teasing, an ill-intentioned bite that felt like it was made to injure. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, but you knew you felt it in that hazy bar, surrounded by throngs of people gathered here and there, enveloped in smoke and conversation. But like a heat-seeking missile, it seemed his words were engineered to uncover the softest parts of you and destroy them.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else, but your eyes welled with tears and your throat constricted. You stared at him, this stranger who had pegged you without err, and felt the weight of your frustrations pressing down on the tops of your shoulders like sandbags. And as he perceived the shift in your expression, his own face changed from a cold sort of scrutiny to a round-eyed concern that washed away all evidence of his previous behavior.
“Oh shit,” he said, standing up and blocking your face from view. You felt a few hot tears spilling over and were quick to wipe them, but the humiliation was there on display whether you cried or not.
He’d gotten you.
Luckily for you, Namjoon’s timing had been particularly impeccable that day and he’d barreled into the bar with a lopsided grin and clapped both you and the stranger on the backs, Taehyung and Yoongi sauntering behind him. You’d startled a bit, jumping slightly at his approach, but once again luckily — or perhaps unluckily — Namjoon seemed to have little regard for the poor mood he’d stepped into and didn’t seem to notice your glassy eyes as you buried your nose in your drink.
“Well jeez, look at you two already getting acquainted!” Namjoon exclaimed with a big laugh.
You paused your sipping for a moment to slide only your eyes up toward your friend. “Huh?”
He blinked down at you, one hand still clamped onto the stranger’s shoulder, and raised his brows. “Didn’t I tell you I was inviting some work friends?”
You spat your drink, sending droplets of sweet alcohol splattering across the bar. Quick to right yourself, you faced Namjoon properly and, sputtering, replied, “Him?”
Namjoon laughed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you guys didn’t introduce yourselves,” he said, adding theatrics to his heavy sigh. “This is Park Jimin. That choreographer I’ve been telling you about? He’s coming with us to Fiji.”
Still coughing up the remains of your rum and Coke, you pat your chest. This was the kind-hearted dance major wunderkind who dazzled everyone at Namjoon’s entertainment company? This was the kid who, at the age of twenty-four, had more accolades than both his predecessors combined? This was the guy who befriended all the trainees and brought them sports drinks during long days of practice?
This was the guy you were going to spend two weeks with on an island in the middle of the Pacific?
Namjoon, standing between the two of you, moved to taste your drink and as he leaned forward you locked eyes with the acclaimed young choreographer over the plane of his back. Park Jimin stared at you with wide eyes and lips parted as if to speak. But even after Namjoon had straightened up and begun complaining about your drink order, Park Jimin, still with mouth agape, said nothing.
And so, as you go ripping through the jungle on a wobbling cable, screaming and laughing and crying just a little, you wonder how exactly that very same Park Jimin is the one who comforted you into taking this leap of faith. Below your dangling feet is a patchwork of different greens, all bleeding into a motion blur as your body is propelled down toward the bottom platform. As you slide along, you can just see Namjoon’s figure, reduced to a small silhouette amongst the trees, as he stands waving like mad at the edge of the platform. Laughing, you shoot both hands above your head and wave them around, causing you to sway on the cable. Startled, you quickly return your hands to gripping the straps near your chest.
You feel like a bullet whizzing through humid air and then, all at once, friction takes hold once more and you seize, eyes squeezing shut from the whiplash, head throbbing just a little, suspended over the platform. You are greeted by a chorus of applause and hollers of encouragement as the employee begins the process of disconnecting you from your harness and, as your feet land stiffly on the concrete slab, you lift wild eyes to meet Namjoon’s. You find him still with that grin plastered across his face, hair windswept, shirt askew.
“Wow!” is all you can say as the group laughs.
Namjoon smiles and claps your shoulder. “Right?” he asks and you can only nod and turn your eyes back up toward the cliff from which you’d descended.
Now far too distant to discern amongst the foliage, the loading platform sits somewhere lost in green. And, without meaning to, your mind wanders back to Park Jimin and you wonder idly if he’s counting to ten.
Sunset drenches the island as you lounge on the warm sand, leaning back on your elbows with eyes half-shut as you gaze out at the glittering ocean touching the horizon line. The sky is darkening by degrees, with vibrant reds and oranges spreading like watercolor into the navy blue edges. And for a blissful moment, you’re alone with it. Alone with the profound. And you’re not thinking about the new job you’d taken, or the text messages Hanseul left you this morning, or the bills you know you’ve got to pay soon. You’re not thinking about anything.
It’s beautiful.
Of course, it’d be more beautiful with a pina colada, but you don’t let your mind linger there too long. After all, Namjoon said this trip was supposed to be about adventure and ‘finding yourself’. You aren’t sure how much of yourself you can really find at the bottom of a fruity drink.
Namjoon invited you on this trip a year ago. He’d done it in typical Namjoon fashion: calling you up at two in the morning and rambling incoherently for a while before eventually getting to the point. You’d become so used to his pipe dreams that you’d half expected this plan to fall through like the others. The second the words left his lips, you’d rolled your eyes.
“What I’m saying is,” he began, breathless over the phone, as you push yourself up onto your bottom, bed sinking beneath you, “let’s go to Fiji.”
“Joon…,” you groaned. “Please, I have work tomorrow-,”
“Listen, fuck your job,” he said and you could practically see him waving his hands like a man gone mad. “This is important. Like…might be the most important thing we’ve ever done together, you know?”
“Where is this even coming from?” you asked, stifling a yawn. You glanced out your window and saw the city painted black, pinpricks of yellow office building lights.
He sighed. “I was looking up tropical music for this new song I’m working on for the trainees and I stumbled upon this incredible video about Fiji.”
“Like a generic white girl vlog?” you asked with a laugh, but Namjoon seemed deathly serious as he remained silent. You paused a moment. “Wait, you’re like…for real with this, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, of course.” He was quiet. “I just…I dunno…I guess, while we’re still young enough to do it, I wanna experience something incredible. While we still can. While things are still like this.”
“What do you mean?” You raised a hand to open your window, let in some cool night air, but as you jammed your hand along the pane, the thing only rattled dumbly in response. You huffed, focused.
“I mean life is transient and nothing’s guaranteed,” he said. “Who knows who we’ll be tomorrow, you know? Who knows how long these moments will last?”
You stilled for a moment, staring out your closed window, hand still poised to force it open. You glanced over your shoulder at your tiny apartment — clothes strewn over every piece of furniture, easel gathering dust in the corner of your living room, unused for the better part of a year, paintings still unhung propped against walls on the floor — and couldn’t help but sigh. As silver moonlight filtered in through your curtains, you felt an unfamiliar tug in your chest. A longing that didn’t make sense.
You had the job, the boyfriend, the social life…
You had it all.
But why did Namjoon’s words make you feel so hollow?
And before you even realized what you were doing, you replied, “How much is it gonna cost?”
“What’re you thinking about?” asks a soft voice from beside you.
Startled, you scramble slightly, sending a spray of sand flying through the air. You sputter a little, having inhaled too quickly for your lungs to handle, and squint against the golden sun. But as you settle enough to face the person beside you, you’re surprised to see it’s Jimin. Sunset drenches the expanse of shoreline, catches in the ends of his black hair, outlines the side of his rosy cheek as he gives you an easy smile.
You raise your brows. “Hm?”
He chuckles, rubs the back of his neck, and shrugs as he digs the heels of his hands into the sand, leans back on them. “Just…looked pensive.”
“Pensive…,” you repeat, mulling it over. You purse your lips. “I guess just…thinking about this trip.”
“What about it?”
“Just…why I even bothered coming,” you begin, then chuckled and eyed him sidelong. “You saw how I was today. The whole…adventure thing isn’t really my scene.”
He smiles, revealing on closer inspection one charming crooked tooth, and tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean? You looked like you were having the time of your life!” he says, nudging you with his elbow.
You smile at your knees, now pulled toward your chest, and sigh. “Thanks for saying that, but you know I was a mess.”
He pouts a little. “You weren’t.”
Glancing his way, you find him with furrowed brows staring distantly at the ocean. “Mm…,” you mumble in response.
He sighs. “You were scared,” he begins, then shrugs. “But you did it anyway. What’s so bad about that?”
You sense that he’s perhaps talking about something else while talking about you. Like he’s saying two things at once. But you don’t bother prying. Instead, you simply sigh and join him staring at the surf.
“It’s beautiful, huh?” you remark as the two of you sit side by side. And there’s a gentle sort of quiet between you, one you never expected to share with someone like Jimin.
But somehow, here he is. And looking at him as he watches the waves splash forward and recede, you can’t help but feel a little guilty for your attitude towards him. Guilty for the dread you’d felt as you boarded the plane behind him. Guilty for the scowl you’d worn as he walked beside you on the trail up to the zipline today. Guilty for the complaints you’d aired to Namjoon about him.
“Yeah,” he says with a pleasant, lazy smile.
Birdsongs welcome you to the fresh island morning. Lazily, you roll onto your side and peel your eyes open, straining against the sunlight pouring in through your ocean-facing windows. You yawn, pushing yourself up onto your bottom to stretch sore arms above your head. You twist your torso this way and that, crack your knuckles, point your toes as you extend your legs before you. The room is filled with bright morning light, all hardwood floors and tapestries on the walls. You glance around your bedroom – one of eight private rooms in this massive Airbnb – and realize with a start that this is the first morning in years that you haven’t immediately grabbed for your phone to check for work emails.
You expect, perhaps, to be unnerved by this. This lack of structure, lack of organization.
But, perhaps more unsettlingly, you are…
Surprisingly calm.
You shake your head and pad on bare feet into the bathroom beside your room. As you brush your teeth, you lock sleepy eyes with your reflection and can’t help but crack a little smile. For the first time in a long time, you look like you’ve had a proper night’s sleep.
You emerge in the living room a few moments later to find Taehyung – Namjoon’s stylist friend – and Seokjin – Namjoon’s actor friend – still sleeping on the couch, the TV still droning on as they’d likely forgotten to turn it off. And, standing in the kitchen by himself nursing a cup of coffee and a calm smile, is Namjoon. He’s caught a bit of a tan, glowing in the gentle sunlight, and his eyes are warm and fond as he looks out across the living room at his friends.
As quietly as you can manage, you maneuver around the sleeping boys and take a place beside Namjoon, resting a hip against the marble counter. “Morning,” he says softly.
You nod once. “Morning,” you repeat, and hold your hand out for his mug of coffee, wiggling your eager fingers. He chuckles and relents without much fight, offering the handle to you carefully. You take a warm, welcome sip and sigh. “How’d you sleep?” you ask.
He hums a little and adjusts the sleeve of his loose tee. “So tired I didn’t even dream,” he says with a laugh.
Smiling you reply, “Me either.”
He eyes you with a knowing smile and squints a little. Like he’s teasing you. “You like it here, don’t you?” he asks.
You roll your eyes and give his shoulder a healthy shove. He laughs in response, but says nothing more as you sweep your gaze out toward the wall of windows leading down to the beach. It’s immaculate in the morning time. Not a single silhouette dots the shoreline, only fishing boats just beyond the surf. Tourists are still asleep, you reckon, and you feel a little proud to not be one of them sleeping away the most beautiful hours of the day. You can see faint traces of clouds ringing the horizon, and the pastel yellows of sunrise giving way to the azure blue sky.
“It’s…really nice,” you admit with a nod, sipping the coffee once more. And, without meaning to, you think of Jimin yesterday. His hand on your shoulder, his comforting words reminding you to ground yourself before you floated away. “Yeah…,” you add, concealing an unintended smile.
Namjoon, however, has always been the smarter one out of the two of you and, predictably, he catches this shift in your expression and turns to you head on with raised brows. “Whoa!” he remarks with a grin. He points to your face with his index finger. “Look at that!”
You swat his hand away with a laugh and roll your eyes. “Lay off, alright? I’m having a good time. Isn’t that the whole point?”
He chuckles and sighs as he rests once more beside you. Gently, he lifts a hand to softly pat the top of your head. You’re certain your shock registers plainly on your face as he pats again. “I’m proud of you,” he says.
And in the simplest of phrases, he’s managed to pluck something profound from inside of you. You don’t need to ask to know precisely what he means.
Why does it make you want to cry?
“Morning,” says a quiet voice from behind Namjoon and, leaning slightly so you can see around your friend’s broad chest, you notice Jimin standing there and can’t help but smile.
He glances between Namjoon and you for a few seconds, brows lifted as if in question, before Namjoon clears his throat and wordlessly excuses himself, snatching his coffee on his way back into the living room where he begins rallying the boys awake.
You sigh, running a finger along the countertop’s perfect edge. “What’s on the agenda for today?” asks Jimin as he settles beside you.
You pause to think. “Um…,” you begin, tapping your lips with your fingers. “I think…,” you continue, musing as you begin to work your lower lip between your index finger and thumb. “Something about ATVs.”
But before you’ve even finished your sentence, Jimin has seized your hand in his and is now standing so close you can smell the scent of his detergent wafting up from his pajama shirt. He stares down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a smirk, gaze flashing around your face before landing on your lips as he pulls both your hands down toward your shoulder. Your heart begins to race, eyes wide, skin hot where his fingers touch yours, and you swallow hard as he chuckles a few times, his breath fanning out across your warm face.
“Sorry,” he says, voice low and breathy. “It was distracting.” He then drops your hand and swivels on his heel, back toward the hallway from which he’d come. He pauses, however, to shoot you a wink over his shoulder. “Hard to focus when you do that,” he says, tapping his own plump lower lip with his fingertip before offering a wave and meandering down the hall.
And you stand there dumb, heart pounding so loud you can’t hear the crashing waves just outside the window.
You were shocked when you found out Hanseul had been messing around behind your back. Gutted, really. If it hadn’t been for Hanseul leaving his Instagram logged on to your phone, you’d probably never have found out to begin with. He’d always been that sort of guy, though.
Reckless.
And how very cliche, you’d thought as you read through months of exchanged messages, that he’d exchanged you like a used car for a newer model once he’d gotten tired of you. You dragged your finger almost lazily across the screen, brows raised as you rested on your couch, reruns of The Office blending into background noise. And where perhaps you’d expected hurt and resentment, you found only a grim acceptance.
Of course, you thought to yourself with a strange chuckle as you read the most recent message. A sappy sort of love IM that made your stomach churn. Riddled with sentimentality and grand platitudes, the messages reminded you of the ones you’d exchanged with Hanseul in the beginning. The ones that made you hopeful. Of course.
Somewhere amongst that grim acceptance, however, was something you didn’t expect. Something primal. A sort of fear that had no name.
Fear, perhaps, of the implications.
Fear of all the things that would have to change, all the comforts you’d known for years chipping away like old paint left on the wall too long.
And so, like a house of cards, your world shook and crumbled mightily down to its very foundation.
You’re slack-jawed as you stare at the row of ATVs standing equidistant before you. Eight identical machines pointed down the rolling hills behind you. An instructor standing with a grin and hands on her hips as she watches you scan the locomotives with your eyes wide and round. Beside you is Namjoon, smiling too broadly for his face to accommodate, with Seokjin and Taehyung drowsily fighting yawns. Jimin stands on your other side, arms crossed as he smirks at the ATVs like he’s done it all and seen it all before. His friend Jungkook is practically vibrating with anticipation, and Hoseok – another choreographer from the company – stands whispering in low tones with Yoongi, the young PD Namjoon never stops talking about.
The imposing green trees sway in the breeze around you: all potential threats as your group nears the line of ATVs. You wonder just how long you can manage on one of the things before hitting one of those tall waving trees. Anxiously, you glance over your shoulder at the hills extending as far as you can see. More possibilities for horrific injury.
As you tromp through the yielding sand underfoot, you feel someone step closer to you and you don’t need to lift your eyes from your boots to know who it is.
“You know, if you’re scared-,” Namjoon begins, but you silence him with a look, gaze severe.
He raises his hands in surrender before chuckling and patting your shoulder. He says nothing more as he swerves around you to hook his elbow around Taehyung’s neck. The two, laughing, continue toward the row of ATVs. Taking a moment to manage your breath, you press your palm against the rubber handle. You shut your eyes.
One.
You’re getting on this fucking ATV.
Two.
You’ve come this far, you can’t chicken out now.
Three.
You always chicken out.
Four.
When was the last time you did something that scared you this much?
Five.
Well…yesterday.
Six.
Before that though.
Seven.
When was the last time you took a risk?
Eight.
When was the last time you did something you wanted to do?
Nine.
Something you really wanted…
Ten.
You take a long inhale, nod once, and swing your leg over the side of the ATV. With both shaking hands gripping the handlebars, you glance to the side to see everyone else has mounted their vehicles, except for one. Jimin stands at the end of the line, talking with the guide too quietly to hear, but the way he’s waving his hands makes it seem like there’s a problem. The guide glances around, brows knit, before shrugging his shoulders and cupping a hand around the side of his mouth to shout.
“Hey guys! Looks like we’re one ATV short! Someone’s gonna have to share!” he calls, and grumbles resound around the group.
Beside you, Namjoon and Taehyung complain about having to share, both clearly not too keen on offering Jimin a spot on their ATV. You briefly feel bad for him, standing on the edge without a place to go to. You wonder if he feels left out, or if perhaps he’s considering staying back so the guide can show you the way. Without meaning to, you turn your head and lock eyes with Jimin and the instant you to you wish you hadn’t. Because now his eyes have lit up and his face is splitting in a small, hopeful smile.
And you know you’re cooked.
With a sigh, you raise your hand and wave it like mad, beckoning Jimin over. After all that, the breathing exercises and everything, after finding your courage, here you are handing over the reins.
“You can ride with me,” you say with a sigh as Jimin emerges at your side, smiling bright.
“Thank you,” he says with a laugh before hoisting himself up behind you.
“Oh!” you exclaim as Jimin rests his hands on his knees, right beside your thighs. He leans around your side and eyes you with wide brows. “I figured you’d wanna drive…,” you say, face going hot.
He blinks at you for a moment longer than normal before splitting into a grin and nudging your hip with his knee. “Well why would I do that?” he asks, rolling his eyes. “You looked really determined.”
Just like that, he understands exactly how you feel.
Startled, you turn to face him halfway, twisting your torso awkwardly as you lock eyes. He’s still smiling, still bright. The apples of his cheeks are redder than yesterday, and the bridge of his nose. A sunburn. He looks peaceful. As if he trusts you to drive this massive machine. As if it’s not even a thought that’s crossed his mind.
As if he never even considered taking this ATV from you.
“You guys ready?” shouts the guide with a hoot.
The boys around you holler their responses but you stay silent, still just staring at Jimin as he shields his face from the sun with one hand, still smiling, still peaceful.
You grip the handlebars and kick the ATV to life.
You first met Namjoon when you were in high school. He was a grade above you, so you’d never had reason to speak with him. Aside from passing him in the halls every now and again, you didn’t really interact with him at all. But things changed when he approached you after class as you finished cleaning off the blackboards. You’d stayed behind not because you wanted to, but because your classmate had pawned their classroom duties on you after a miserable game of Gin Rummy at lunch. You hadn’t protested much once the responsibility had fallen on your shoulders.
Another excuse to avoid going home.
Bony knuckles rapped against the blackboard beside your head and you jumped out of your skin, releasing a scream several octaves higher than you anticipated. But as the moment of panic passed, you realized with a start that the one who’d roused your attention was indeed upperclassman Kim Namjoon. And there he stood with a small dimpled smile and gentle eyes scanning you. You weren’t sure what he was looking for when he looked at you, but the way he tilted his head to the side made you think that perhaps he’d found it.
“Hey,” he said, face outlined by the last golden rays of autumn daylight.
You swallowed hard and took half a step back toward the podium. “Uh…hi…?”
“This yours?” he asked, dangling a sketchbook before you with one hand.
It took you several moments of squinting at the Strathmore sketchbook to realize that, in fact, it was yours. Your name was right there in the right corner where you’d scribbled it a month ago. And there was the tear in the cover from when your mother had tried to rip the thing from your hands – unsuccessfully.
A rush of fear swelled through you and you snatched the pad from his outstretched hands like you were a prisoner and he was offering you food. Scared he’d rescind his offer if given even a moment to think it over. And as you clutched the thing to your chest, you scanned him with narrowed eyes.
“Where did you get this?” you asked. You were certain you had kept it safely in your bookbag since lunch. But glancing at the bookbag again, you found it surprisingly empty.
Namjoon raised his brows and raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, then chuckled with a shrug. “What kind of thief would return the thing they stole anyway?”
You paused for a moment, brows furrowed, before sighing and nodding. “I guess that’s true,” you admitted before gently guiding the sketchbook back into the mouth of your backpack. “Um…,” you hedged as you turned back to the guy. You held out your hand to him and he rolled up the long sleeve of his uniform cardigan to take it in his own. “Thanks,” you finished with a shake.
He shook his head. “Don’t mention it,” he said, laughing a little. “Had to ask around to find out which class you were in though.”
You felt a warm bloom of embarrassment and pulled your hand away, shoving it back into your pocket and averting your eyes. “I don’t have a job or anything,” you said.
He blinked at you. “Hm? What’re you talking about?”
You rubbed the side of your arm and shrugged. “My family’s kinda poor too. Like, we do fine, but my parents are really serious about money so…,”
“What’s your point?” asked Namjoon with wide, curious brown eyes.
You stared at him for a moment, puzzled, before continuing. “Aren’t you gonna ask for, like, reward money or something?”
He released a booming, chesty laugh before waving his arms like mad and shaking his head. “No! God, do I look like a thug to you?”
You eyed him from top to bottom and shrugged. “I don’t really know what a thug is supposed to look like.”
He sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. “Forget the money,” he said, pausing to give you a warm smile. “I just wanted to meet the person who made those drawings.”
You went stiffer than a board. For a moment, time stood still. Namjoon froze before you, the gently falling leaves outside the classroom window froze, and you froze too. Like your feet were rooted to the ground.
“You…did you look through it?” you asked softly, too horrified to raise your voice above a bare whisper.
He nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I was looking for a phone number or something on the inside flap, but then I got distracted by the art.”
“You…”
“You’re really talented,” he said, offering another big smile. “Like, you could go pro if you wanted to.”
You swallowed hard, your throat constricting, and chucked the dirty blackboard eraser on the podium with a puff of fine dust. Without another word, you zipped up your backpack and slung it over your shoulders. You walked past him quickly, not even sparing him a glance, and walked faster when he followed you, calling after you and begging you to turn around.
Namjoon followed you around for a month after that: waiting outside your classroom after school, catching you off guard as you sketched in the courtyard during your lunch break, walking his bike behind you as you led the way to the bus stop, cheering for you at the sports festival and causing you to miss the volleyball coming straight for you. Every time he’d come around, you’d turn grey with horror and you wouldn’t say a word. But luckily for you, Namjoon said plenty enough for both of you. It was always, When are you gonna join the drawing club?or,You should start working on a portfolio, or, If you love art so much, why aren’t you applying to an arts college?
You didn’t bother asking how he knew where you were applying. As you’d gotten to know him, you’d begun to understand his uncanny ability to secure sensitive information from teachers. It seemed they all loved him about as much as you despised him. Not long after that comment, you finally began responding when he spoke to you. And you even began bickering like real friends.
After a while, you grew accustomed to him being around all the time. To the point that, when he graduated a year before you and went on to pursue a degree in music, you’d felt almost lonesome without him. And to the point that, when you texted him about your choice to pursue a degree in business, you were almost relieved when he caught the late bus out to your house to scold you.
One day you’re gonna snap, he’d said that night in a moment of calm. You’re gonna finally have enough of living for them. And it’s gonna hurt when it happens. Bad.
But the scolding had never been enough.
Because, in the end, that persistent fear ran like still waters through your body.
You’re realizing more and more that it’s the same fear. That it’s always been the same fear. Back then when you were so scared of losing Hanseul that you considered not even telling him you’d found the messages. In high school when you were too scared to show anyone your sketchbook. Even now, as you straddle the vibrating ATV, Jimin’s arms wrapped lazily around your middle as he giggles behind you, you’re scared to make a single sound for fear of messing up your focus on the hills before you.
If you really think about it, it’s all the same.
When you boil it down to its core, it’s always been the same.
Fear of fucking up.
Like you’ve been walking a tightrope from the start, and any small misstep will result in you plummeting, face first, into the ground below.
Your knuckles go white against your skin as you clutch the handlebars. Stiff, you follow the guide as he vaults over a hill, having no choice but to do the same. You launch your ATV over the sandy bump, sending both you and Jimin flying through the air. And even though a part of you expects to go splat in the dirt, after a few weightless seconds of flight, the two of you return to earth in one piece. This time, it isn’t Jimin’s laughter that startles you.
It’s your own.
“Holy shit!” Namjoon shouts as he runs toward you, face covered in fine dust. He grins at you like you’re his child, and as you slide off the side of the ATV, he sweeps you up in a big hug, laughing. “You did so good!”
You laugh too, patting his flexed bicep, and lean away slightly to get a better look at his dirty face. “God,” you say with a laugh, running the pad of your fingertip along his cheek, leaving behind a stripe of clean skin. “You need a shower, Joon.”
He nods and peels himself away, turning his attention to Jimin behind you. “You don’t look so good,” he remarks with raised brows.
And as you turn to see for yourself, you notice that in fact Jimin doesn’t look so good. Up until then it had been all laughter and smiles and playful squeezes, but now that he was standing in the dirt, arms crossed, leaning back against the ATV with his helmet in his hand, he looked…less than pleased. He watches you and Namjoon with narrowed eyes.
Oh God, you think in a moment of blind panic, I bet he wanted to drive the ATV after all…
But the moment Namjoon approaches and claps his hand against Jimin’s shoulder, the latter perks up and his eyes go bright once more. He turns a grin towards you and offers a big thumbs up. The sky above his waving hair is a perfect blue, and the sun is unrelenting, but somehow his smile is brighter. Carefully, you join the duo and pat the ATV with a sigh. Looking at it now, it doesn’t seem so scary at all. And after all the tips your guide had given throughout the course, you feel ready to do it all again if you get the chance.
Jimin eyes you with a fond smile. “How’d you like it?” he asks.
You hum. “It was…really exhilarating,” you say with a grin. Gently, you reach out your hand for Jimin to shake and without missing a beat he laughs and takes it.
But instead of shaking it, he gives a sharp yank and you go tumbling into his chest. Heart hammering, you struggle to regain your footing, but before you can process what’s going on, Jimin wraps both arms around your back and holds you tight. You’re sure your face reveals your chagrin, so you’re careful to keep it buried in his chest. And although it’s muffled through the fabric of his shirt, you can hear Jimin’s heart thumping quick.
“Thanks for letting me ride with you,” he says quietly against your hair.
You swallow hard, nerves making your hands sweat, and nod once. “Um…yeah, of course.” You can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes your parted lips and, hesitantly, you reach around to pat Jimin’s back with one hand. “It was fun.”
He backs up with a smile, but keeps one hand on your shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s do it again when we get home.”
You laugh again, eyes wide. “Are there ATV courses at home?”
Jimin pauses, purses his lips, and shrugs. “Let’s find out.”
Namjoon snaps his fingers. “Shoot! What time is it?” he asks, brows knitting.
You check the watch around your wrist and squint at it, but it’s hard to focus on anything with Jimin still touching you. “Um…half past two,” you say, brain foggy as Jimin steps closer.
He glances over your shoulder to stare intently at your wristwatch. Easily, he slides his hand along your shoulder blades before letting it rest at the small of your back. You can feel the ends of his hair tickling your hot cheek. He hums a little beside you and nods once, as if he is simply verifying the time. Perhaps he is simply doing that.
“Shoot!” Namjoon exclaims again. “If we don’t leave, like, now we’re gonna be late for snorkeling!”
Without meaning to, you slide your eyes toward Jimin and raise your brows only to find him staring at you with the same expression. The two of you share a knowing look before breaking into small smiles.
“Wouldn’t wanna be late for snorkeling,” Jimin says under his breath as Namjoon jogs back toward the guide, all the while frantically miming with his hands.
You grin. “God forbid.”
Hanseul said something once that really stuck with you. Not the sort of sentimental thing that you thought might’ve stuck with you, but something entirely mundane. Something trivial, something said in passing.
It was a Sunday afternoon. Neither of you had work, so you’d decided to take a nice long drive through the city. The sky was endlessly blue and beautiful, and even though you were just one car in the infinite stream of vehicles on the highway, you felt somehow free. With the windows rolled down all the way and music bumping softly through Hanseul’s car’s speaker, you remember shutting your eyes and just…breathing for a minute. And that was enough.
“Jesus Christ!” Hanseul shouted with a belabored sigh, and your eyes snapped open once more. You were quick to locate the source of his frustration and found, merging into your lane from the right, a massive freight truck. “I will never understand the hubris of semi drivers who think it’s a good idea to pass other semi drivers.”
Settling your racing heart, you sighed and breathed a laugh. “Impatience I guess,” you remarked, but he was prickly beside you and you knew he wasn’t finished.
He scoffed. “As if passing that guy is gonna get him there any faster,” he said, then rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Everyone should just go their own pace.”
And with that, he stopped talking. And you returned to leaning your head against the passenger doorframe, gazing out at the line of cars entering the highway.
The sun is white hot on your bare skin as you tread water, face bobbing just below the ocean’s surface. Floating like a buoy, you squint into the endless blue to catch a glimpse of some wildlife. It’s not as easy as it looks on Instagram, that much is clear to you now. The waves waves are gentle but restless as they rock you around and the plastic of the snorkel pushes uncomfortably against the sensitive skin of your lips. Your arms and legs are still sore from the previous day’s hike, and now your thighs ache from gripping the ATV. But somehow, despite the hardiness of it all, as you float parallel to the ocean floor, you can’t help but stare with wide-eyed wonder every time a flash of red fin or plume of underwater dust catches your eye. And so, mystified, you swim onward.
You feel someone swim up beside you, but it’s too much labor to look and you can’t tear your eyes away from a particularly beautiful fish cresting over the top of some coral beyond your fingertips. It’s only when that someone taps your shoulder that you finally snap from your daze and, blinking quickly, burst out from beneath the water and shove your snorkel to the side. Fearing catastrophe, you turn gasping toward Jimin as he wades beside you with a grin.
And your heart settles down.
You pat your chest a little and sigh. “Jesus,” you mumble.
“Scared you?” he asks, and from this close it’s hard not to get caught up in the brown of his eyes, in the wet ends of his dark hair as they dangle just above his eyebrows.
With the saltwater and the sunlight kissing his skin, he’s practically glowing.
You shake your head. “What’s up?” you ask.
He points with one finger toward the water below and wiggles his brows. “You wanna go down with me? The instructor said it’s really awesome.”
You stare at him for a long moment, trying to discern any malintent or ulterior motive and, upon gleaning none, settle for a nervous, breathy laugh. “Ah, I dunno…,” you say, rubbing your nose with the side of your finger. You look away, toward Jungkook’s fins as they flap violently against the glassy surface of the water. “I’m happy just looking from up here.”
Jimin hums a little. “You sure?” he asks, eyeing you like he knows something you don’t. “You seemed really into it when I came over.”
You swallow hard and your mouth tastes like seawater and anxiety. “No, I’m…,” you start, but it’s weak. The sentence trails into nothing.
He smiles bright enough to blind and you almost have to shield your eyes. “Come on,” he says, offering his hand toward you. “We’ll go down together and come back up together. I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”
You stare at his outstretched fingers, pruny and slightly sunkissed, and ponder for a moment. Were you always so tepid? So lukewarm? Wasn’t there ever a time in your life when you did things just because they sounded fun? Thinking back, it’s hard to pinpoint the precise moment you became so pragmatic, so afraid. Perhaps when your parents told you a career in art wouldn’t work out for you. That you didn’t have the stuff. Perhaps even before that.
But deep down, buried deeper than you’d like you admit, there’s a part of you that’s always wanted to zipline through the jungle. To ride ATVs. To see the coral up close.
That slumbering part of you is beginning to awaken.
And you wonder as you take Jimin’s hand with an uncertain smile if this has been your pace all along.
He giggles and the two of you dive in unison. You follow the instructions the snorkeling teachers gave you on the boat, and you hold your breath just the way you’re supposed to. Nonetheless, the deeper you swim, the cooler the water becomes and the more your nerves begin to rattle.
Only this time, you don’t find it unpleasant. Not at all, actually.
Because Jimin’s hand is warm.
The two of you coast to a stop in front of the vibrant red coral as a school of orange fish rushes by in a wave. You both reel back for only a moment and then, catching each other’s eyes, exchange the biggest smiles your snorkels allow. And boy is Jimin right. It is awesome. You swear you’ve never seen colors like this. Juxtaposed against the perfect blue all around, the coral reef stands like a mountain underwater, fish flying like birds around the jagged pink peaks, hiding in the deep purple. Anemones wave so close you’re tempted to touch them, and as you lean closer for a better look, you see a red seahorse nestled beside a green sea plant. As if sensing you there, the tiny fish scoots out from its cover and makes its way toward you. Eagerly, you extend your index finger and the creature nudges you just slightly before continuing on its way to the other side of the coral barrier.
Your heart is pounding, racing like a sports car and loud like one too. You turn toward Jimin with eyes blown wide and he’s grinning at you, so fond. He gives your hand a squeeze and you can’t help but squeeze back. Wordlessly, he jerks his head toward the surface, and the way the water plays with his hair makes it look like silk. You’re distracted for a moment by how beautiful it is, how beautiful he is, but he squeezes your hand again and once more jerks his chin upward. Ah! You need air!
You only realize it as Jimin makes a motion toward the surface, but now that you’re conscious of it it’s all you can think of. Q
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
Jimin was outside of Korea for work, he was in a business 3 day trip in Thailand promoting his brand, the trip has been delayed for a few weeks so he had to pack his things up last minute and go, you usually support him in whatever he does but you were not ok this time he left because the trip was dangerously close to your youngest son first birthday and as usual it was huge celebration with family and friends, all planned by your mother in law, he was supposed to arrive back home two days prior the event so it wasn’t on the deadline but deep inside your instinct was telling you that things would not go as planned.
And indeed you were not wrong, in the morning making breakfast for the kids the second day he was gone you turn on the news, for your surprise and horror, a big storm shut down everything and the airport was closed until the weather was safe to fly, you almost dropped Myungkyu’s plate, later that day after taking your eldest in school and Nakyum in kindergarden leaving you with your almost one year old Minjun in the house, you gave him his bottle and he took a nap, now with complete privacy you facetimed your husband, he picked up the call few seconds later.
He as per usual looked hot as hell but a little tired as well, he gave you a shy smile, implicitly you both knew what going to happen, and he being the one absent you could tell that he was a little bit guilty about it.
“Hi babe, I saw the news how’s everything over there?” you asked him worried.
“Hi my love, I’m ok, I mean the weather is crazy outside, all my plans are cancelled, but yeah” he said looking around his hotel room “How’s my boy?” you knew he was referring to Minjun.
“Asleep, thanks heaven” you responded “I saw that the airports are closed, you think you can make it home on time?” you knew the answer but still you needed some assurance.
“I’m so sorry, my darling, I know it’s going to be stressful but i can’t do anything about the weather condition.”
You shouldn’t be mad about this, but you didn’t like the idea of this big celebration all by your own, especially when you didn’t even want all this, your mother-in-law was the one planning everything, she did this with your other kids as well.
“And I’m sorry for missing out our little Minjun’s first birthday” he added “it hurts me not being there for that special moment, but It kills me seeing you dealing with this by own with so much stress” he looked down serious, Jimin really mean it.
“Gosh I wished I had stopped your mom before she decided to make this big party, I mean, our other kids don’t remember theirs, Minjun will not remember this! is that big of a deal if we don’t do it this time?!” you said frustrated grabbing your hair.
“You how my mom is, she goes overboard, it doesn’t hurt anybody” He suddenly said in defensive mode, if you know something is that Jimin is a mama’s boy, they are so close, and their relationship was cute to you, but sometimes just sometimes, you wished that his mom could stay on line on some matters, because Jimin let her do whatever she wants and that created tension that was building up.
“It affects me, honestly Jimin” you reminded him “Like we just move out, house still renovating, kids on school plus activities, one hyperactive toddler and a baby, throwing a big party was the fucking cherry on top and you are not even gonna be here!” you wanted to cry out of frustration but you didn’t want to Jimin seeing you like that because you know he would try to deviate the conversation to comfort you and you don’t needed that right now, that could be done when he comes back, right now you wanted to vent.
“You didn’t had to lift a finger to organize this party, it was my mom in charge of everything and you know why?, because she knew that you were busy, she is not doing this because she wants to be an insensitive cunt, so why don’t you appreciate her efforts!” he said that in louder tone that you didn’t like at all.
“Watch your mouth, the point of all of this is that this party was no needed at all Jimin, we could had perfectly done something small and special for a freaking 1 year old! She didn’t HAD to get involved!” you bite back, his eyes became darker, you knew this was his sign of getting mad.
“My mom is such a monster, oh no she wants to do a party for her grandson, she is so awful, I can’t believe it” he said sarcastically, you rolled your eyes at his response.
“Jimin shut the fuck up, we are having this conversation in the first place because you don’t know how to say no to your mom” you spited at him, he had to know the truth after all, he seamed taken aback at your words.
“Be careful, I would not tolerate any disrespect towards my mom or other member of my family” he warned lifting a finger pointing to you, you crossed your arms.
“I’m your family too!” you almost yelled.
“Yes, but my mom is not talking shit about you at your back, isn’t she?” he said bitterly.
“Its not talking shit if I’m stating a fact, you literally let your mom do whatever, and I love Mijeong, but it’s your mom and I can’t be the one setting the limits, that is your job” you hit a nerve because he made that sound with his mouth that he does when he is irritated or when he knew he lost the argument.
“Yeah whatever, but the party it’s happening anyway, so why are you making things difficult?” he said playing with his fingers, you felt irritated at his statement.
“I could get through this if at least you were present, but now I would have to go alone to your friends and family asking me if Minjun is the last one, or referring me to good doctors to not get pregnant again, because that’s how they think of me, like I’m so dumb getting knocked up again and again.” There it is you said it, you let it out of your chest, the thing is that you were terrified to be left alone with his friends specially his friends wives, they were clearly accustomed to a more hedonistic lifestyle, travelling, shopping, partying, only two of them had kids, Taehyung and Hoseok, they had two and one respectively, and their wives were more empathic towards you, you know by their questions and gestures that they pity you at some level, because you have 4 kids and were not able at the moment to do all the things that you enjoyed, and lately you feeling a little miserable because of the pressure, you would feel a little better though if you had your own friends by your side but your mother in law only extended the invitation to your immediate family and that was it.
His eyes opened up, and his mouth parted a little, he brushed with his fingers pink strands of hair that were on his face.
“Who said that to you?” he asked serious.
“Jimin they don’t have to say it directly to me, but probably at the party without you around they might not be so subtle” you told him brushing your arm with your hand.
“If that happens you tell that to me, and they would have to repeat it to my face if they are so brave” he said in a low tone ”You understand that, my love?” you barely nodded.
“Look at me, yn” you did what he said “Our children, all of them, are our blessing, they are so wanted and loved, and every one of their needs are met, and most important their parents love each other intensely, we have four because we want to and we are able to, I’m not and I will not regret ever having any of our children, you might kill me, but I really don’t mind having another one when Minjun is a few years old, I love our family and I love you” he said without hesitation or doubt, which made your heart full with joy.
“I love you, Jimin but you are right I might kill you because you are crazy if you think we can handle a 5th child” you joked, he smiled at you, that imperfect sweet smile that you adored so much.
“You are in charge of course, you have the final word” he added “I hate to fight with you, I hate myself more for not stopping earlier and validate your discomfort” he said.
“it’s ok you are tired and I’m tired, its natural it happens…” a baby’s crying interrupted you, it seamed that Minjun woke up from his nap “Wait a sec” you stood up and went to look out for your son, the little baby boy calm down when you finally took him in your arms, you went to the living room and seated in front of your phone, Jimin smiling at the sight of his youngest son.
You really thought this time it will be a girl, you were not fixated on it, but you were just a little disappointed, Jimin thought it was funny, but seriously though, Minjun turned out to be just the perfect mix of the two of you, this time taking more of your features than Jimin’s, he was healthy and happy, and it was all that mattered at the end of the day.
“Hello little one” Jimin said to his son “Daddy miss you and your siblings so much”
Minjun smiled recognizing his father’s voice immediately, he gave little jumps.
“I’m sorry for not going to your birthday party, but don’t you worry I’m gonna bring you some gifts” you rolled your eyes at his spoiling tendencies.
You knew Minjun was hungry so you put him on your lap and took your breast out of your strapped tank top, the baby immediately started feeding, the action didn’t go unnoticed by Jimin who watched every move.
“He is very hungry” you said to Jimin, who nodded fixated on your breast.
“Babe?” he call for you.
“yeah?” you responded without looking at him.
“Mind me if I call you later in the night, for some private time” he had this almost raspy voice, that made you raise an eyebrow because you knew exactly what he was referring to.
“Maybe…if they kids go to bed early” you said to him giving him the look that he knew so well.
“Can’t wait”
You hang up the call minutes later blowing Jimin a kiss and he saying goodbye.
———————–
might write what happens in the late videocall between yn and Jimin (smut) comment if you want to read it.
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.
➻ yn just got out of a bad relationship and it’s in the “I hate men” phase, the last thing she needs is a new guy in her life… but what happens when she meets Park Jimin, a sweet and gorgeous guy that makes her heart beats faster than a drum? Will she be ready to trust again?
➻ yn just got out of a bad relationship and it’s in the “I hate men” phase, the last thing she needs is a new guy in her life… but what happens when she meets Park Jimin, a sweet and gorgeous guy that makes her heart beats faster than a drum? Will she be ready to trust again?
“It happens suddenly; one day you see someone and for some inexplicable reason, you feel more connected to this stranger than anyone else. Perhaps because this person embodies an angel; one sent to you for a higher purpose, to maybe protect you during a perilous time and be of strength to you. What you must do, is trust in them. The reason for their presence will become clear in time.
Though a word of caution- you may grow to love this person but remember, they’re not yours to keep. Their purpose isn’t to save you but to show you how to save yourself.”
There was something about the island that was serene, calm, something that was shattered when the 8 of you stepped foot on the sand. What would have been a tranquil quiet morning had turned into the usual chaos.
“Seriously Hyung! Again?” You wake startled to Jungkook shouting at the man currently enclosing you tighter in his arms, ignoring the maknae.
“This is the third night in a row,” Jungkook continues when neither of you reply, he’s angry but there’s more to it, he’s hurt. You try to pry the hands around you away, trying to get your thoughts together after being harshly woken, but Yoongi doesn’t move an inch, only offering you a grumbling “tsk” to your movement.
“Hyung!“ Jungkook yells for his attention. You don’t have to see him to know he’s got his tongue harshly pressed against his cheek in annoyance, you can feel it, just as you can feel his stare that you swore was burning you more than the Sun’s heat.
“Jagi fell in love with me first,” the prince let out smugly, you can feel the smirk on the back of your neck. “I saw her first, we would never have met her if it wasn’t for me.”
“So?” The maknae replies seething, while your jaw drops at the Prince’s audacity.
“So I get Princess whenever I want,” Yoongi chuckles arrogantly.
You nearly choke as Jungkook storms out, leaving Yoongi amused and you stunned.
“Kookie wait!” You call after him but the chains around you called Min Yoongi wouldn’t give.
“Yoongi that was mean,” you scold him lightly, which finally makes him let you go, only to turn you to face him.
He’s so pretty in the mornings, so carefree, it’s hard to hold on to your annoyance when he attacks you like this.
“He woke us up,” is his only reply, as if that justified everything.
“That doesn’t excuse you being mean,” you pout, leaping to the maknae’s defence. “This is the last time you convince me to sleep next to you.”
“Tough, you’re sleeping next to me tonight too,” he states confidently, completely disregarding your statement.
His behaviour was giving you multiple cases of whiplash, and it was too early in the morning for so many.
“Yoongi, that’s not fair.”
He sighs, the self-assured attitude melting away to reveal his vulnerability, the change makes you still. He has a soft look in his eyes as he gazes into yours, but there was an intense sentiment behind them that takes your breath away.
“Y/n, I thought I was going to lose you forever,” he admits quietly, the heaviness of his tone making your heart ache. “I still have nightmares Jagi, I still wake up believing we didn’t make it out.”
Your eyes tear up, you had those dreams too. Worse ones sometimes, your father dragging him to the guillotine with the others lined behind him while you scream, restrained by his guards. You shiver at the reminder of those horrible images.
“The only thing that convinces me we did is waking up to you in my arms,” he looks down at your fingers, playing with him softly to distract himself. He wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but he’d let you see it.
“Yoongi talk to them,” you sigh, understanding his point, but you had six others to also think about, and you knew in the long term this would cause a rift. “They’ll understand…”
He kisses your hand softly, contemplating your point even if he looked like he was ignoring it.
“Not yet,” he hums, “I want to keep you to myself a little longer.”
The smirk he gives you makes you gulp, your skin starting to burn under the new dangerous glint in his eyes. You fight the pleasant shiver that travelled down your body, biting your lip to stop yourself smiling.
“The bed’s big enough for someone else to join us, you can’t keep hogging me,” you shake your head, laughing lightly at the way his gummy smile grew.
“Fine, on one condition,” he grins, leaning in, his eyes drawn to your lips before looking at you suggestively. “Admit you love me the most.”
Your jaw drops for the umpteenth time that day.
“Min Yoongi what’s gotten into you this morning?”
“I’m happy,” he breathes against your lips with a sincere smile.
The sight has your heart flying, unable to control your own bashful grin that he starts kissing. He kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw, loving the sound of you giggling at his ministrations, holding you closer.
“I fell in love with you the moment I met you Y/n,” he mumbles against your skin, his nose nudging your jaw with affection before his eyes meet yours. He’d tell you it a million times. “You’re the reason I’m free.”
His heartfelt confession made the words of love you wanted to return get stuck in your throat behind the rising emotion. You kiss him again instead, slowly, deeply, making sure he understood how you felt for him too.
“Am I interrupting?”
Yoongi groans when you pull away, turning to see Namjoon leaning on the doorway with a knowing smirk.
“Yes,” Yoongi grunts, trying to pull you back.
“Morning Joonie,” you greet him much to the Prince’s dismay. Well that was his morning ruined.
“Morning Princess,” Namjoon says softly, walking up to you both to kiss your forehead before sitting next to you, playing with your hair.
“Let me guess,” Yoongi huffed. “The maknae had some complaints.”
For a second he thinks Joon didn’t hear him, not with the way he was staring down at you fondly, dimple peeking out of his cheek. Yoongi rolls his eyes at the way you’re grinning back. All the reservation your head bodyguard, or ex bodyguard he supposed, had about his affection for you had disappeared the second you both confessed. It was as if the proverbial dam broke, and Namjoon’s show of love could no longer be controlled.
I think I preferred it when he denied his feelings, Yoongi thinks to himself but even he knows he doesn’t mean it.
“Hyung you’re upsetting the others,” Namjoon states, not taking his eyes off of you.
“Am I upsetting you?” Yoongi challenges, ready to call out any self serving agendas he might be hiding dressed as concern from the others.
“Is Jungkook okay?” you ask, feeling a pang of guilt for the youngest.
“He’s swimming it off little queen,” Namjoon reassures you, thumb trying to soothe the crease between your brows of worry. “He’ll be fine.”
“Are you both going to start arguing?” You could already feel the atmosphere changing even through the grin Namjoon was wearing.
“Yes.” “No.”
Well that answered that. Yoongi scowled at his younger friend, buttering you up and feeding you white lies, at least he was honest.
You sigh, it was definitely too early for this, and you didn’t want to hear it. You’ve been caught between their little spats before and never ended well. You jump out of bed, using the glares they were both giving each other to your advantage.
“Where are you going?“ they both ask simultaneously, Yoongi propping himself on his elbows to watch you leave.
“To see a friend.”
—
The knocking on the door can only be one person, one very stubborn runaway princess on a mission. There’s a sigh as the door is reluctantly opened, a sheepish grin from you that could only be described as trouble.
“You’re going to get me killed,” Nym says matter of factly, opening the door wide to let you through without complaint.
“I’m not going to get anyone killed,” you reply, already taking a seat though you technically hadn’t been invited to.
“They’re going to realise you’re over here more than you are over there,” they chuckle.
“Because we’re friends,” you pout. “And they know how thankful I am to have you.”
Dammit, you had a way with words, you could convince the stars to stop shining if you wanted it. The journey to the island was a long one, after the first flight on the private plane, there was a long car trip to a helicopter which brought you here. The island was owned by Namjoon and Yoongi under an alias not even you knew about.
“It would get lonely here if I didn’t visit you,” you admit, thinking about how alone you were in your old life and comparing it to now.
This place was an isolated drop of paradise floating in the calmest ocean, the only people living on it were doing so under their command or permission. Two out of a handful of the people lived in this house, Nym, the tech genius who kept the island safe, secure and under the radar for the guys, also your new best friend. And her husband, the getaway driver and pilot, Lee Minho.
“You have seven men ready to lay down their lives for you at your villa,” an eyebrow rises, calling you out completely. “I don’t think lonely is the term you’re looking for.”
“I know, and I love them,” you agree. “But there’s a lot of testosterone…”
Nym laughs, making you laugh too.
“Sure you’re not using me for my tech gifts?”
“Maybe a little,” you tease, not meaning it at all, before getting down to business. “Anything yet?”
“You’re right,” she sighs. “They have been watching her, but no one’s taken her in for questioning as far as I can see.”
You nod, taking the information in.
“And as for contacting her to let her know you’re okay…” Nym hesitate, “I’d hold off for now.”
“I know,” you let out a deep breath, thinking to yourself. “I wouldn’t implicate her, or risk them finding us. I just want Sana safe.”
Your head is hung low, if anything happens to your best friend because of your escapade you’d never forgive yourself. You knew she would be the first place they check, the one to keep an eye on, she must be worried sick… A hand squeezing your shoulder breaks you out of your thoughts, a reassuring smile from your saving grace. Nym could hack into anything, satellite feeds, security cameras, all without leaving a trace. Thank goodness she was working with you and not against you, which begged the question-
“So you haven’t actually told me how the guys recruited you,” you say before realising you might come off a bit rude with your prying. “Not that you have to tell me of course.”
The tech genius shrugs like it was no big deal.
“Yoongi’s uncle wanted to use my skills in the worst kind of way,” Nym admits before clarifying, “the world war kind of way, when I refused I became a fugitive, Namjoon and your prince got me out. A lot of us here are like that, we’re not loyal to a monarchy, just the ones who helped us escape.”
Your jaw drops, that was not what you were expecting at all. Well that was a bombshell.
“Yeah, the crown is corrupt in most places, I’m glad you don’t have to wear yours anymore.”
“Me too,” you agree wholeheartedly, you never wanted that weight on your head again.
—
The afternoon Sun had peaked in the sky when you walked back home, like an alarm blaring. Or maybe that was your guilty conscience making it feel so. The others had strictly laid down the law not to contact anyone from the outside world, and you weren’t stupid, you knew the implication if you did. But this tiny molehill you were hiding would be made into seven big mountains if they ever found out.
You’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t realise you’ve made it to the door, walking through it in a trance. The second you turn to the door to ensure it was closed, arms wrap around you from behind making you jump back to reality.
“You’re spending a lot of time over at their house,” Taehyung states in his signature deep timbre, not needing to elaborate. Soft kisses start at your temple working their way down your face.
“I really like going over there,” you giggle when his nose tickles your neck as he nuzzles himself as close to you as he can.
“I know,” you feel the pout of his lips on your skin. “I’m getting jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“It feels like you’re running away from us,” it’s the little huff that has you biting your lips to stop from laughing but you can’t hold it back.
“I’ve already tried to run away from you guys once,” you can’t help chuckling. “It didn’t go well, I won’t be doing it again.”
“Don’t joke about running away with someone else,” he grumbles, making you both walk to the sofa like huddled penguins, refusing to let you go. “It’s not fair, we’ve escaped to paradise and I see you less than when we were on duty in the castle.”
“Tae we’ve only been here a week,” you need to stop laughing at his behaviour before he got grumpy, but he was so cute like this. He falls back into the sofa, taking you with him with a yelp.
“I don’t care, I’m not letting you go for the rest of the day,” his head is buried again in your neck as if that would cement his statement, legs locking onto yours keeping them in place.
“Okay,” you agree to placate him but he seems to have more on his chest.
“Yoongi Hyung gets you enough,” he starts ranting, head falling back on the sofa as he complains. “I can’t sleep unless I’m hugging you and he doesn’t let me join.”
“You hold Jiminie and Kookie all the time,”
“It’s not the same!” He whines dramatically, starting to fake cry like a child. “Yoongi Hyung is so mean, and you love him more than us.”
He waits for you to correct him, hiding his insecurities through his pretend wailing.
“Taehyung, that’s not true and you know it,” you nudge your head with his, seeing right through his little act. Any other day you might’ve teased him, or pretended to contemplate it, but you knew that Yoongi’s attachment issues were going to cause just that, more issues.
“Prove it,” he doesn’t drop the childish tone. “Stay here with me all day.”
“I said I was going to, you big baby!”
You feel him laugh, his chest shaking with it as he pressed his lips together to stop it coming out.
“Can we nap?” You ask him yawning, “Jungkook woke us up at stupid oclock.”
“And Yoongi hyung kept you up late,” he grumbles, lying you both down.
You ignore the remark sheepishly, settling into his arms as his leg straddles your waist to keep you from leaving as if this were all a cruel ploy to escape him.
Good thing the villa had air conditioning.
—
“Taehyung we’re borrowing Princess for a second!”
Did no one want to let you sleep in peace? Jimin’s loud announcement ripped you from your slumber like a blaring alarm. You hear a grumble of disapproval from behind you, hands trying to keep you in place as Hoseok pulls you out of his hold.
Like a scene from a bad diamond heist, Jimin quickly puts a pillow in Taehyung’s arms, grinning in satisfaction when he settles again.
You on the other hand wobble on your feet before Hoseok steadies you, an amused smirk on his face when you grab onto him for support. You give them both a grumpy glare which they choose to ignore, dragging you down to their room. You’re half asleep when they push your shoulders, making you sit on the chair in the middle of the room a length away from the foot of the bed.
“Why do you both look like you’re about to interrogate me?” You ask the pair.
“Because we are,” Jungkook announces his arrival, closing the door as he grabs another chair and sits on it in front of you the wrong way round. The back of the seat faces you as the youngest straddles it, arms crossed at the top, his eyes boring into yours.
He’s about to speak but you’re all distracted by the door opening again.
“Ya did you seriously just slam the door in my face?” Jin’s ears have gone red with rage as he spits at the maknae who giggles like he has a death wish.
“You’re too slow Hyung!” he complains grinning mischievously, maybe he did it on purpose, but he wouldn’t admit it.
“Can we get back to the matter at hand please?” Jimin sighs seriously as he addresses the room.
“Which is what exactly?” You yawn, still not quite awake.
“Your betrayal,” Hoseok states bluntly, making your heart jolt out of your chest.
“M-my what?” You splutter out, how… how did they know? You try to keep the guilt and stupor off your face. Ignorance until proven guilty, that was the saying your father taught you growing up amidst his scandals.
“You told Yoongi Hyung you loved him first,” Jungkook pouts, an irritated scowl on his face from the memories of the morning.
“You said you fell in love with him the moment you met him,” Hoseok’s eyes narrow in distaste.
“We’ve managed to come to terms with it,” Jimin says before muttering to himself, “even if it is annoying.”
“So the question remains little Queen,” Jin stands behind Jungkook. “Who did you fall for next?”
Any sigh of relief you had been in the middle of was swallowed back down. Nope, no way, you were not getting into this. You almost want to be accused of the other thing.
“All of you,” you diplomatically reply, meaning it.
“Princess we’re not above torture if we need it,” Jimin warns, ready to tickle it out of you if neccessary. “Who?”
“This isn’t fair,” you whine before word vomiting your defence. “I didn’t even realise I was for ages and when I did I realised it about you all!”
“Yet you still figured out you loved Yoongi Hyung first,” Hoseok should have been a lawyer with the way he was ready to pick apart your argument.
“But I do love you all,” your puppy dog eyes and pout may have worked any other day, but not this day. Today they were determined to know and settle it once and for all. Min Yoongi was monopolising you and they needed weapons against it, something to wipe that smug smile off his stupid royal face.
“It’s Namjoon I’m telling you,” Hoseok sighs, all of them turning to each other suddenly ignoring you.
“Nope Namjoon was the harshest on her out of us all for ages,” Jin disagrees. “He was fighting his feelings.”
“I don’t know, Princess might like the mean type,” Jimin comments, contemplating the facts like their question was the hardest puzzle on the planet.
“Then it’s me,” Jungkook exclaims like he’s solved it. “I ignored Princess for months before giving in.”
“Because you were shy, idiot,” Jimin refutes him, rolling his eyes.
You use their distraction to your advantage, trying to sneak away but you must’ve forgotten who they were. They weren’t the world’s best bodyguards arbitrarily.
Jin grabs your arm, bringing you back to the chair with a thud.
“Little queen, you’re not leaving without giving us an answer,” Hoseok looms over you, his hands on each side of the chair, trapping you in place. You look up at him earnestly, how could they be insecure about your love for them?
“Look I didn’t realise I loved you all until that night I met my father,” you explain calmly like you were in police custody, being framed for a crime. “But gun to my head, I was falling for you all from the moment we met as we all got to know each other, there wasn’t a time when I loved someone more or less.”
“But you fell for Hyung first,” Jungkook grumbles through pouting lips, pulling Hobi away so he could attack you with them visually.
“I met him first,” you chuckle, “he came into my life like a dream when everything was dark and I was alone, and then he disappeared, but when he came back he brought you all with him.”
They all go quiet, like your words were confirmation that you loved the prince more than them. It shouldn’t make their hearts sink, not when they knew you loved them too, but a sad jealousy hit them, making all their demenours deflate. It felt as if you and Yoongi had something they could never share, it left them feeling on the edge of their own relationship, like you both were at the centre and they were on the outside looking in. They wanted you to love them just as much.
“You guys remember when Sana left,” you try to rouse them from their thoughts. “That morning after when you all panicked as I was crying,”
You laugh to yourself at the memory, remembering all the ways they were trying to get you to stop.
“I was crying because I loved you all and I was happy,” you explain hoping they would really hear what you were trying to say, “I was sad Sana left, but I was happy you were all with me.”
The looks they give you has your heart reaching for them, you knew where they were in themselves. You had been there, thinking they didn’t love you the way you loved them, that they all loved someone else, it was a feeling you would never forget.
“Just because I fell for someone first doesn’t take away how much I love the rest of you,” you tell them wholeheartedly, meaning every word.
“But Yoongi Hyung-“
“Yoongi and I relate to each other a little bit more,” you cut Jungkook off, “we wore our crowns reluctantly, there’s an understanding there I admit you all can’t empathise with, and I would never want you to, but that doesn’t mean I love him more.”
“But we want to understand too,” Jimin mumbles dejectedly, looking at the floor, the corners of his lips weighed down. “We want a special bond with you too.”
You let out a breath of laughter at his words, didn’t they see the bond you had with them, the way they all kept you alive when the crown threatened to bury you again and again.
“You all don’t realise it,” you say smiling but your eyes watered as you thought of every moment of love you had with them, all those times you were too blind to your own feelings. “But each of you have touched my life in your own way, I was so alone before you.”
Their eyes glisten like yours, but you don’t mind when your tears drop.
“You didn’t just save me,” you confess, your voice growing thicker, “you saved Yoongi too. How can I love you any less?”
—
Their figures go rigid at the scenes playing in front of them, the static on the screen doing nothing to hide the facts. Namjoon and Yoongi feel their chest seize for you as the words blare on the intercepted news channel.
Your father was dead, and with you missing, your cousin and Taeyeon were to take the throne. Nym watches the pair in concern, each of them could feel the pressure from the sudden tension, the air so thick it was suffocating. Your kingdom was on the cusp of ruin.
“Don’t tell her,” his solemn voice breaks the minute of silence.
Namjoon’s jaw drops in shock, that was usually his line, Min Yoongi was always the first one that suggested telling you everything.
“Hyung we can’t keep this from her,” Namjoon states dumbfoundedly, unable to believe what he was hearing.
“We can, and we will,” Yoongi replies sternly, no room for argument in his tone, but he forgot who he was talking to.
“Hyung that’s her father, he might be a piece of cr-“
“If we tell her she’s going to want to go back,” Yoongi snaps, advancing into Namjoon’s space heatedly, not willing to back down. “The second we step on to any national soil we all end up with a noose around our necks and she knows that, she’ll go alone.”
He looks at the Prince’s unhinged posture, stepping back to breathe and calm the situation down. Titles didn’t matter when they were both fugitives, in Yoongi’s country the head bodyguard would think twice before opposing him, but when he was under his command, he brought down his consequences like a tonne of bricks on whoever disobeyed him. Here they were evenly matched, stripped down to two men who only wanted the best for you, both as stubborn as each other.
“Hyung we have to tell her, plus she doesn’t have the means to go back even if she wanted to,” Namjoon tries to placate the Prince, knowing he wasn’t going to get through to him by matching his energy.
Yoongi laughs under his breath as if the cleverest amongst them said something stupid and it pisses him off. His jaw clenches hard as he holds himself back from unleashing his own fury at his friend for ridiculing him.
“Namjoon for as long as you’ve known Princess, when she wants something, has anyone been able to stop her?” He shakes his head.
“She’ll listen to us,” Namjoon pushes back, knowing you would, you always listened to him when it mattered. You trusted him with your life, more than the others, he knew that, it was never stated out loud, but with his whole heart he knew it. You always looked to him first, you might’ve fallen for the prince first but Namjoon was the one you sought implicitly above anyone else. In the game of chess, you were the Queen, he was the next powerful piece on the board, what people believed to be the King but actually the Rook. He protected you, he understood the politics better than anyone else did, even Min Yoongi. He could see the outcome to all the scenarios the situation called for, but one stood out amongst them all. If they kept this from you, you would never forgive them.
“She’ll find a way,” Yoongi continues, deep in his own thoughts. “Don’t say a word.”
The conversation makes the third forgotten person in the room uncomfortable… especially when glowing feline eyes turn towards them like prison lights about to catch an escapee.
“Don’t say a word,” he repeats himself warningly.
There isn’t a reply, just hesitation. This was morally wrong, there was no way-
“Nym, you can’t tell her.“
“But if her fathers dead, he can’t make her marry Wang anymore,” your new friend tries to come to your defence. “She can reclaim the throne-“
“She doesn’t want to rule!” Yoongi yells, startling them. “She’ll think she has to go back, to save her people from a psychopath who probably killed her father.”
“Hyung…” Namjoon places a hand on the prince’s shoulder, calming him. “That’s not our decision to make.”
There’s a silence that fills the room bringing with it a heavy weight on each of their shoulders.
“Taeyeon will kill her if she goes back,” Yoongi says quietly.
“With us beside her?” Namjoon tries to sound reassuring, but he can’t even convince himself.
“She’s tried before and we barely managed to keep her safe,” he strikes where it hurts, harshly throws the events that scarred them all in his friend’s face. “If we go with her Namjoon we’re all dead.”
You and Yoongi understood the rules and the corruption more than any of them did. Any dream of going back and returning to what used to be was buried the second they left. You were both defectors, both traitors of your countries, the public wouldn’t take to your return kindly.
“We can say we knew of a plot that would attack the royal family so we had to get the princess out, he died under suspicious circumstances,” Namjoon offers, gesturing to the screen still playing the events of your fathers death, trying to come up with options for every outcome. “That’s what this whole island is about hyung, we can prove that.”
“I’m not risking her safety,” Yoongi breathes menacingly, unwavering in his conviction. “Do you understand me?”
And Namjoon did, he completely did. He had been the one to utter that line too many times, it was unnerving to be on the receiving side.
Note:I miss melting in the summertime. Inspired by a paragraph on facebook that I cannot find for the life of me.
The heat, it simmers, gathers between the gaps of fingers, tucks into the crooks of elbows – making itself known in the sheets damp with perspiration that lay crumpled beneath bodies sparse of garments, just the odd article of underwear, a flimsy lace bra.
Fingertips brush ribs that are swathed in sidewalk lamplight, filtering in a pale gold beam through the open window where the sheer curtains gently sway their hips, stiff summer air sitting still upon the sill of chipped white paint. Legs attempt to tangle, knot together, though the slightest of touches has them sliding apart, urging limbs to the opposite ends of the well loved and worn mattress with dissatisfied groans that hint at the fleeting forlornness of being so close, yet in the dreaded humidity that blankets the fitfully slumbering city, being aeons of scorching seas apart.
“I want to touch you,” is murmured across expanses of bedding, the words almost shimmering in the illusion of heat that waves the air. Or maybe, Jimin is simply tired, incapable of adequate focus.
“Too hot,” you feebly mumble back, lips pursing to place affection on the pad of his thumb that swipes over the cracks, that he brings to his own lips in a kiss and a smile that you so urgently wish to feel against the curve of your neck, the jut of your hipbone.
Jimin threads sticky knuckles back through his raven hair, adjusts until he is as comfortable as he can be without you, reaching a hand across the sheets once more, offering with drooping eyes. Eternally sultry, a fog that hangs low upon dusk. “I guess this is goodnight, then?”
Gently, you lay your palm atop his, loosely grasping with a malcontent lift of your own lips, tracing the lines that weave love and life and health on his skin with the edge of your nail.
“I suppose so.”
It is near four when the heat finally cracks its exterior, allows that peculiar chill to seep through its splintered face and nestle into the corners of the bedroom, the gentle shivers that prickle across your bare spine stirring you into dazed, half-consciousness. He too, at your sudden disturbance, is roused from the dreams that taste of ice and snow, watching through heavy lashes that beg to fall close once more as you pad across the floorboards, delighting in the cool touch of the breeze that grazes your exposed skin before you slide the wide open window to be no more than a sliver that serves to welcome only thin tendrils of the chill. Jimin carves the heel of his palm against his right eye, indulging in the sight of you, graced with a haze of lethargy as you glide back to his side, hands and knees leaning into the bed, dipping and curving beneath your weight.
The soft way in which you sigh as your thighs come to rest either side of his own, no longer shimmering with the presence of heat, is how he knows. The casual caress of his fingertips lazily looping through the elastic that hugs tight on your hips, pulling it down, down, eyes guarded by inky, sleep-tousled hair is how he accepts. A groan is tucked into the dip of your collarbone, a palm fasting itself against wet warmth that elicits heaven, the final shreds of clothing abandoned to the floor, no longer required, never needed in the first place.
Not fast, nor slow, love is made in the languid roll of hips, the touch of a mouth marking fields of lavender and dusty rose across the sensitive skin of arching throats. Moans taste like salt and hours of light sleep. Swollen, rosy lips are caught taut between teeth, tense strings of a violin that snap when a thrust reaches right there, when a smooth caress of a tongue feels just right.
Four in the morning be damned when it is the only break from the heat that swelters from the walls for all but three hours of each day, when it is the only time that your bodies can embrace, love, without any wary fear of skin melting to skin. No, such lethargic, early hour is completely worth it when he stutters, holds deep, nails embedding half moons into the curve of your rear as the gasp of your name is caught in the corner of your lips, pressed there by his own, trembling out with the shudder that rattles his bones into a silent, quivering earthquake, quickly followed by your own internal natural disaster when his fingers fumble between your thighs, shaky, yet cultivated, knowing of the ways to get you weak in the knees. Knuckles seek desperate purchase through tendrils of jet black, concupiscence a white hot burn that bleeds from between your bones, softens your muscles into butter until you are utterly fragile and sensitive and he is smiling sleepily down at you, fingers sticky with the mess he just drew from the crevices of your body.
The sheets become victim to the clean up, gently smoothing over your centre, up the length of his cock before they are hurled to the corner of the bedroom, abandoned, unnecessary now to your mellowed limbs, most certainly to be unwanted once the sun starts to peek back over the horizon and brings yet another blazing day with it. Jimin gathers you into him, revelling this peace period, this time of an ice age wedged betwixt the limbo of midnight and dawn, tucks you close underneath his chin and smooths the flat of his palm in a languorous massage up the distance of your spine.
And it is this, the slice of flimsy time that wanes all too soon, a bittersweet frost encasing the mere hours of a midsummer night, too early to simply be early, too late to just be late, that you breathe for. The gesture of reaching for what is warm when you demand all but such a thing when you first welcome your dreams, the protection that entails when you pull him close, feel his ribs shift against your own, the slow of his heartbeat. That reflex of awaking with the cold nipping at your toes, stretching for the warmth of his embrace because it is more than enough to keep you safe – that is true happiness.
it’s the hopeful sounding call of your name that alerts you out of your half-awake trance, not having realised the way your eyelids began to fall shut and your head tilt forward as you dozed off, chin propped in your hand. you blink momentarily, gaze darting from one side of the room to the other as you remember your surroundings, and look up guiltily to the already deflated expression of the boy across from you, frozen in position as he stares at you with his finger still pointing to the equation on the page that he’s been teaching you to solve- or at least, trying to.
‘please, for my sanity and mental wellbeing, tell me that you were listening to that.’ jimin already sounds like he’s lost hope, apparently knowing your answer without you even having said it yet.
‘uh.’ you hesitate, a hand coming to rub at your nape sheepishly. with an apologetic grimace, you shake your head very slightly, and jimin sits back in his seat with an exasperated groan, throwing his pen down onto the desk to instead card his fingers through his hair.
‘i’m really sorry, okay?’ you’re quick to jump in and apologise, something seeming to sink in your chest at the thought of jimin’s hard work going to nothing. ‘i should’ve been paying attention, i-‘
‘why does mr han even want us to do this, anyway?’ jimin interrupts incredulously, which isn’t entirely unwelcome, as the thought of apologising profusely to the boy who pushed you into the pool at swimming lessons when you were six and afraid of the deep end (which, no, you’re totally not still kind of salty about, because that would be totally ridiculous and irrational and you’re not that type of person- at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you fold your arms and narrow your eyes at him across the classroom) doesn’t appeal to you that much.
jimin pauses, and you take that as an opportunity to pipe up with an answer to his (probably rhetorical, now that you think about it) question. ‘you’re smart and constantly skipping class, and i’m dumb and have been hated by mr han ever since i passed that note in his math class to ask shiah to go out with me when we were thirteen. i assume that he thinks we’re both in need of a punishment.’
there’s a silence until jimin lets out an agitated sigh, slumping back to his usual position and looking you up and down with a cocked eyebrow and a slight scoff. ‘you’re not stupid, dumbass. you’d get it if you just listened to what i’m explaining to you, for once.’ he emphasises his words by repetitively tapping at your forehead with a delicate digit, prompting a scowl on your behalf as you slap his hand away. ‘besides,’ he continues, sitting back once more. ‘why do you always fall asleep at these tutor sessions? what are you doing so late each night that you always doze off when i’m trying to teach you algebra?’ he raises an eyebrow suggestively, clearly looking to rile you up, his lips curving up in an amused smirk. ‘hm, let me see. looking at you, i’m gonna assume that you’re mega kinky, maybe into slapping-?’
‘oh, shut it, jimin.’ you quickly cut him off, speaking over him loudly. ‘i wish..’ you joke for a millisecond, before returning to your indignant expression and pointing an accusing finger at him. ‘it’s nothing like that, you perv. plus, it’s none of your business. and, from what i hear, sounds like you think about this sort of thing a lot? you sure that isn’t just you projecting your masochistic, twinky fantasies onto me, park?’ you grin teasingly, happy to have flipped the situation around.
suddenly, jimin stands from his chair, the loud scrape of his chair against the cheap flooring almost making you wince. ‘this is stupid.’ jimin announces, swiftly collecting up his belongings from the desk, but still managing to seem nonchalant, as if he’s not in a rush at all. ‘if you’re not gonna pay attention,’ he continues, beginning to head for the door with his backpack slung over one shoulder, ‘then i’m not gonna waste my time in trying. you can tell mr han why these tutor sessions aren’t gonna be happening anymore-‘
’jimin, wait!’ you hate the way your voice sounds almost desperate, and you clear your throat before continuing, seeing the way that jimin stops in his tracks. ‘i am sorry. believe it or not, i do actually wanna pass this class? not to mention, mr han will have us both put in detention if we don’t continue.’
jimin huffs a little, but turns on his heel to look across at you with disdain, clearly not interested in your excuses. ‘if you’re as committed as you say you are to passing, then why do you never pay attention? this is bullshit.’
‘fuck, jimin, it’s not. as fake as it sounds, i do have a reason as to why i stay up so late all the time, and it’s not just because i’m playing video games or some stupid shit like that.’ (it’s not always because of video games, you tell yourself. that statement is simply a white lie for the greater good.) ‘can you… give me another chance, or something? i don’t know, i’m no good at apologising. but, please?’
jimin pauses briefly, his gaze scanning over your expression as if to try and work out whether you’re being serious. ‘you’re right. you’re shit at apologising.’
‘i’ll buy you ice cream!’ you blurt out as a last resort.
jimin pauses again, as if mulling it over. ‘two scoops?’
‘as many scoops as you want.’
‘…tomorrow, then. after class.’
you heave a relieved exhale as you nod, even managing to turn it into a breathy chuckle. ‘i guess no one can say no to the sweetness of ice cream, huh.’ you muse, watching as jimin’s expression morphs into a pleased grin, letting out a momentary laugh of his own. ‘yeah, i guess so. but, i think that the ice cream’s gonna taste even sweeter knowing that it’s your money being spent on it and not mine. i’ll catch you around.’ and with a final, smug remark, the door opens for a second before banging shut once more, and park jimin is gone.
‘fuckin’ loser.’ you scoff, but there’s a slight smile on your face as you sweep your books and pencilcase into your bag and zip it shut. after all, who’s not cheered up by the thought of ice cream?
You’re not exactly sure what you expected a vampire den to look like, but you certainly didn’t expect it to look like this. You’re completely transfixed by the opulence of your new surroundings; so distracted that you very nearly trip over your own feet as you walk, no hopes of remembering the route you’re taking should you need to find your way back. Large windows run the length of the hallway, each one covered by thick, red curtains to keep out the fading evening light, and beneath your feet, the polished hardwood floor feels cool.
“This place is beautiful,” you say, thinking aloud as you gaze up at the ornate moulding that lines the ceilings.
“Thank you,” Jin smiles, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “We’ve lived here for quite a while.” How long is ‘quite a while’ for an immortal creature, you wonder? Ten years? A hundred? You’d love to know how old Jin and Hoseok are but asking still seems kind of rude, whether they’re counting the years or not.
“And no one knows about you? About what you are?”
“We try to be discreet,” Hoseok answers quickly from behind. Jin lets out a derisive snort.
“Some of us more than others.” You look back at Hoseok and have to fight the urge to laugh at the sight of him rolling his eyes, turning your head back around just in time to realise Jin’s come to a sudden stop right in front of you before a large wooden door. He pushes it open without a hint of effort, revealing a large kitchen space in which he immediately sets to work.
Full of mod-cons and gleaming countertops, its decor is entirely different from the hallway you occupied before; spacious and airy despite the lack of natural light. Hoseok walks past you while you linger in the doorway, taking it all in, beckoning you to join him as he takes a seat at the long kitchen table that occupies the centre of the room. Jin’s himself in the monstrously sized fridge-freezer, paying the two of you no mind, and as you cross the room you can’t help but wonder why creatures who don’t actually need to eat - as far as you’re aware, that is - would ever need such an extravagant kitchen. You pose that exact question as you take a seat next to Hoseok, running your fingertips across the brushed metal tabletop.
“It’s a hobby,” Hoseok informs you before Jin has even had the chance to open his mouth and reply.
“But what do you do with all the food if you can’t eat it?”
You’re disorientated when you awake; no clue how long you’ve slept or where you might be. Blinking back the sleep from your eyes, it takes a good few seconds for the previous night’s events to come flooding back; the club, those girls, that near-miss with Hoseok and that possessive look in Jimin’s eyes. Was that last night? With how groggy you feel it wouldn’t surprise you if it’s been a hell of a lot longer than that.
Looking around, you try to make some sense of where you are. You can’t really remember much after Jimin gave you his jacket. You must’ve fallen asleep. Does that mean he carried you here? Is this his room? The thought fills you with a surge of adrenaline, feeling far more awake and alert than you were just a few moments before, heart rate spiking. You try to sit up and immediately regret it when your back protests, settling instead for lifting your head to inspect the pretty midnight blue quilt that covers you. Your bare toes poke out the end and on further inspection, you realise that it’s not a bed you were placed to sleep on but a large, sumptuous chaise lounge.
You let out a groan as you roll onto your side, eyes screwing up tight at the ache of every muscle. Attempting a stretch, you raise your arms above your head, fingers wiggling as you loudly yawn.
“You’re awake.”
Yawning turns into coughing and spluttering as your body lurches into action, sitting up so fast that there are spots in front of your eyes when you first open them to see Jimin sat on the edge of a bed not too far from your own. The suddenness of your movement knocks the quilt from your lap and it’s only once it does that you realise just how little you’re wearing; nothing but your underwear and a t-shirt that’s not your own. Cheeks aflame, you scramble for the quilt, grabbing it from the floor and pulling it over yourself hastily to cease the trailing of Jimin’s gaze across your thighs.
“Good morning to you too,” you mumble, tucking the quilt around you as butterflies swirl in your stomach.
Summary: What happens when you run into your boyfriend’s super handsome, super hot ex while doing last minute Christmas shopping? Chaos. Chaos is what happens.
Pairing: Jimin x Female OC x Taehyung
Rating: R , SFW as in nothing explicit, but of mature language
Genre: fluff, established relationship, start of a poly relationship, my attempt at crack/ humour
WC: 1.3k
Warning: allusion to threesome
A/N: Day 3 of 12days BTS Project Prompts:Last minute gift shopping but wait, is that your ex? andNext Christmas we’ll be needing one more stocking
Every year you wish you had prepared sooner, and yet, every year, you still leave your Christmas shopping to the last minute, as in on 24 December. At 8pm.
One would think that being in a relationship with someone as meticulous about schedules and lists as Jimin is would help you break that habit. But, no, you just can’t bring yourself to shop any earlier. Maybe it’s the adrenaline rush, to dart from shop to shop and impulsively buy the first thing you see, or to fight off another procrastinator like yourself, that makes you feel alive.
You plop the shopping bags onto Jimin’s lap, and you give him the most satisfied smile.
“All done? Got a good present for me, your perfect boyfriend who waits patiently while you scavenge your gifts?” He pettily asks.
You stretch your arms, feeling good and satisfied. “ All done. You’d love your gift. I’ll even let you open it the moment we get home.”
He groans as he gathers all the shopping bags. “Can we eat now? I’m super hungry.”
“Sure! Tteokbokki? I like the place at the food court. Should we go there?” You pull him up and link your arm with his.
“Yeah, that sounds go-”
You stop walking when you feel Jimin freezing next to you. His smiling eyes are gone, only to be replaced by sheer shock.
Awh I love these characters! They seem so fun. Jimin’s so cute!!! I smiled at the meerkat reference. A great visualization of how he looked at that moment. I loved all the other metaphors you used throughout the fic. They made it so easy to envision the scenes and relate to what was happening.
A brown beret, paired with a long brown coat. Tall posture with a smile that can melt the coldest ice
I love Tae’s introduction! Very accurate hehe. I laughed at oc’s reaction when she spots Tae. He is indeed hot.
Spoiler under the cut.
I also really like how you incorporated the extra stocking prompt. I like that you introduced it with Tae and Jimin thinking she was pregnant (since that’s where my thought went to when I read the prompt), but then you twisted it around and made it unique.
Our Universal Husband’s A.K.A Park Jimin’s Fic-Recs (Super-Duper Short)
Hello Peeps, before I recommend anything I would like like to pre-inform y'all that THIS IS MY FIRST TIME RECOMMENDING FCS AND I’M SCARED AF CAUSE’ I’VE NEVER USED THIS APP EVER. But, I thought that I could use my critical skills and try, to say at the least. None of these wonderful masterpieces are mine, they belong to these loveliest writers who created a safe home for people like me; in fact, I would encourage y'all to give their masterlists a shot. As of now, I’m keeping this list short due to lack of time.
Please follow up for more!!!!
Power-playby@dovechimPark Jimin, an A-listed Pornstar , is struggling of ramming into random girls. At this brink of devastation, his need can quenched by only one person, but owing to their past hateful encounter, will that person actually agree?
Theophany (To Paint A God)by@ilikemesometaetaesIn a haste to cover up your one-sided feelings for your best friend, you end up confessing to her brother. But what happens when he ends up at the same university as yours? Simple, he becomes your muse.
Star Light, Star Brightby@readyplayerhobiPark Jimin, being a single dad at 18, has led a life full of hardships he’d never imagined, making him lose all hopes and dreams for himself. Nevertheless, enters you, who’s gonna make him reconsider his choices.
Cupid’s Bowby@tayegiOn Valentine’s eve, you and your best friend decide to break the rules and lose your virginity to each other.
Erisedby@jamaisjoons Jimin and you have always been roommates. To him, you’re the most innocent person alive in this universe. But one day, when he ends up following you into the room of requirements, he realizes how truly innocent you are.
So that is it guys, stay hydrated.
Not you summarizing my story better than I did ♀️ thanks so much for the rec! I’m glad you enjoyed it!
