#bts pjm
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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | fifteen
🐴Chapter summary: A bushfire threatens to turn your home to ashes— will the fire consume everything in its wake? Can you manage to get out before it’s too late?
🐴Chapter title: Did I Tell You?
🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc
🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.
🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au + smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst
🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
🐴Chapter warnings: angst (is this really a surprise at this point?), fire, almost dying (but no one dies!), a secret that finally gets the light of day, revelations, smut in the form of unprotected semi public sex (indoors in a stable); neck biting and kissing, handjob, clit play, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, marking, hair pulling, pussy rubbing, praise kink, slight exhibitionism (Jimin just doesn’t care, lol).
🐴Status: ongoing (to be completed on 2nd May 2024)
🐴Word count: 13.7k
🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,
*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.
🐴Now playing 💿 “Did I Tell You?” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]
🐴Author’s note: okay, I promise this is the last of the horrible angst— there’s still a tiny bit of drama left, but it’s not really angsty, just drama lol 😆
You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*
*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜
It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.
Wanna see the book cover?
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“You burn like fire
Burn like ice
Your heart tears, your heart tears
You be strong and hold it in
But your heart still cares”
- ‘Never Enough’ by Rebecca Lavelle
Your eyes gradually flutter open, and a sense of unease settles over you, the heaviness of your head serving as a stark reminder that it’s the dead of night. Yet, something feels off—there’s an eerie whooshing sound permeating the air, accompanied by an unexplained warmth that seems to linger oppressively. Each breath you draw feels laborious, as if the atmosphere itself has thickened, suffocating and dense, leaving you struggling to fill your lungs with the heavy, stifling air.
As you groggily open your eyes, a sense of disorientation washes over you, prompting you to sit up on the bed and plant your feet firmly on the familiar, yet unexpectedly warm, wooden floor. Confusion gnaws at your mind—why is the floor emitting heat, a sensation so out of place in the chill of the night?
The eerie creaking noises echoing through the darkness send a shiver down your spine, an unsettling sensation creeping over you like a shadow in the night. With each step, the unexpected warmth of the wooden floor sears against the soles of your bare feet, intensifying the sense of unease that coils within you.
You approach the door, your hand instinctively reaches for the handle, only to recoil at the unexpected warmth that radiates from its surface. Ignoring the discomfort, you grip the handle once more, determined to open the door, but it stubbornly refuses to yield. Panic mounting, you hasten to the window, drawing back the curtains, and are met with a terrifying sight: flames, fierce and unrelenting, dancing in the distance beside the house. Your heart lurches into a frantic rhythm, adrenaline flooding your veins as you rush towards the wall shared with your sister, desperate to ensure her safety.
“Jess!” Your voice echoes with frantic urgency, reverberating through the walls as you pound on them with growing desperation. “There’s a fire!” Each word is punctuated by the thunderous pounding of your heart, the gravity of the situation propelling you into action.
Your heart sinks as the silence from the other side of the wall persists, your pounding growing more frantic with each passing second. With a growing sense of dread, you turn back to the door, only to find the handle searing to the touch, its heat now unbearable. It’s in that moment of realization, as the reality of the situation sets in, that the horrifying truth dawns upon you— the fire is inside the house.
As panic grips you tightly, you frantically scan the room, your senses heightened by the thickening, suffocating air. Each breath feels like a struggle, the oppressive weight of the atmosphere pressing down on your chest.
Amidst the chaos, a melody of distant voices pierces through the haze of panic, drawing your attention to the window. With trembling hands, you fling it open, revealing the familiar faces of Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin standing outside below. Tears blur your vision as relief floods your senses, grateful beyond measure to see them safe and unharmed amidst the chaos that surrounds you.
“Guys!” Your voice echoes with desperation as you lean out the window, your heart pounding in your chest. “There’s a fire and Jessi isn't responding. I’m scared,” you cry out to them, tears streaming down your cheeks in a torrent of fear and helplessness. The urge to escape and just crawls out the window grips you fiercely, but the height of your window serves as a cruel reminder of the perilous predicament you find yourself in.
“Yeah, we can’t get into the house, the fire’s too intense,” Soo-ah’s voice quivers with despair, her anguished expression striking you to the core. A chill runs down your spine as the weight of her words sinks in, dashing any hopes you had of imminent rescue.
“We’ve already called the fire station, they’re on their way!” Ha-rin’s voice cuts through the chaos with palpable frustration, her words offering a glimmer of hope amidst the despair.
“You need to find something to cover your mouth with and close the window tight. We’ll figure out a way to reach you and Jess,” Ara’s voice quivers with urgency, tears streaking down her cheeks as she pleads with you, her desperation mirroring your own.
“Why should I close the window? I can barely breathe in here,” you gasp, your words punctuated by labored breaths as you cling to the fleeting sensation of fresh air flooding in.
“I know it seems counterintuitive, but keeping the window open will only feed the fire more oxygen, making it worse. You have to close it and find a way out, and we’ll do everything we can to reach you,” Ara insists, her brow furrowed with worry as she implores you to heed her advice.
You gulp down your rising panic and shut the window, the gravity of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. Rummaging through your dresser, you snatch up a scarf to cover your mouth, desperate for even a shred of relief from the stifling air. Returning to the door, you try everything—pushing, kicking, pleading—but it remains stubbornly sealed shut, mocking your futile efforts. Exhaustion creeps in like a heavy fog, clouding your thoughts as the acrid stench of smoke fills your lungs, each breath a struggle against the oppressive atmosphere. The distant roar of flames outside serves as a grim reminder of the encroaching danger, fueling your mounting dread. Has the fire reached your floor? Is that why the air feels so unbearably hot and thick? Panic grips you tighter, uncertainty gnawing at your resolve as you brace yourself for the worst.
Desperation claws at your insides, urging you to reach your sister’s side, yet with each passing moment, your body feels as if it’s succumbing to an invisible weight, dragging you down with relentless force. Defeated, you shuffle back to your bed, the searing heat of the floorboards scorching your bare feet with every agonizing step.
The weight of exhaustion presses down on you like a leaden blanket, dragging you tiredly towards the comforting embrace of your bed. As you sink into its welcoming embrace, your gaze drifts upwards, the once-clear ceiling now obscured by billowing clouds of smoke, a grim testament to the encroaching danger. Frustration and helplessness surge within you, a primal scream of defiance rising in your throat at the merciless grip of the bushfire wreaking havoc on your home.
Tears cascade down your cheeks, mingling with the sweat and soot that stains your skin, as you feel the tendrils of consciousness slipping away, consumed by the suffocating grip of smoke and heat. Gasping for air, each breath a desperate struggle, you’re overcome by a sense of utter helplessness. In the suffocating darkness, a chilling realization dawns upon you—this may be the end, this is how you die.
As darkness encroaches upon your consciousness, a kaleidoscope of memories floods your mind like a relentless tide. Childhood days spent playing with your sister, laughter echoing through the air; stolen moments with Jimin, each glance a silent confession of your affection. Regrets and what-ifs swirl together in a maelstrom of emotion, a poignant reminder of the preciousness of time. Thoughts of Jimin linger like a lifeline, a beacon of hope in the encroaching abyss. Despite your reluctance to surrender to the void, exhaustion weighs heavy upon your weary soul, leaving you with little strength to fight.
The air grows thick with suffocating heat, enveloping you in an oppressive embrace as darkness threatens to consume you whole. Despite the sweltering temperature, shivers wrack your trembling frame, tears mingling with sweat upon your cheeks in a testament to your despair. A profound sense of isolation descends upon you, a heavy cloak of loneliness in the face of impending doom. Panic claws at your chest, a desperate plea echoing in the recesses of your mind—no, you’re not ready for this, not yet.
But in the blink of an eye, the world fades into an abyss of darkness, swallowing you whole.
Without warning, Jimin awakens in the dead of night, a strange sensation coursing through his body, disrupting the peaceful slumber he usually enjoys. His eyes flutter open, his mind unexpectedly alert, an oddity at this late hour. Running a hand through his tousled blonde locks, he senses the futility of attempting to return to sleep. With a resigned sigh, he resolves to quench his newfound thirst, navigating his way down to the kitchen in the darkness, the silence of the night shrouding his solitary journey.
Descending the stairs with deliberate steps, Jimin navigates his way through the dimly lit house and into the kitchen, where he fills a glass with water. As he takes a sip, his gaze absentmindedly drifts towards the window, only to be arrested by a peculiar sight outside. With a furrowed brow, he pulls back the curtain, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of flames licking the night sky, casting an ominous glow over your residence.
A surge of dread washes over him, gripping his heart with icy fingers as he beholds the inferno raging outside your home. His breath hitches in his throat, a strangled gasp escaping his lips, as the glass slips from his trembling fingers, shattering upon impact with the unforgiving floor. Water spills like tears, mingling with the shards of glass.
Heart pounding with urgency, he races up the stairs, his feet pounding against the floor with frantic intensity. Bursting into his brother’s room, he flings the door open with a resounding crash.
“Jungkook! Wake up!” he cries out, his voice laced with urgency and fear. “There’s a fire at Bora ranch!”
Startled from slumber, Jungkook bolts upright, his eyes wide with confusion and sleep-induced disorientation. “What’s going on?” he demands, his voice tinged with a mix of alarm and bewilderment.
“Get the fuck up! We need to make sure they’re okay!” Jimin’s voice cracks with urgency, his words laced with a potent blend of fear and determination. With a swift tug, he yanks the duvet off Jungkook’s body, his movements urgent and decisive. Jungkook springs into action, propelled by his brother’s urgency, scrambling to grab some clothes as adrenaline courses through his veins.
In a sudden rush of realization, Jimin’s eyes widen as he registers his scant attire, clad only in his boxers. With a sense of urgency coursing through his veins, he dashes back into his bedroom, his movements swift and purposeful as he hastily throws on some clothes, his mind racing with the need to act swiftly in the face of impending danger.
“Should we get Yoongi and Hoseok?” Jungkook’s voice rings out amidst the chaos, his words punctuated by the thunderous rhythm of their footsteps as they hurtle down the stairs, snatching up their boots in a frenzied haste.
“Yeah, we need all the help we can get!” Jimin’s agreement echoes through the tumult, his heart hammering against his ribs with a frantic urgency— you have to be okay. With determination driving him forward, he sprints towards the cottages where Yoongi and Hoseok are sleeping. Bursting into Yoongi’s room without a preamble, he finds the poor man groggy and disoriented, his yells initially falling on deaf ears amidst the haze of sleep.
Suddenly, Hoseok materializes in Yoongi’s doorway, his voice tinged with disbelief and concern. “A fire?” His words hang heavy in the air, cutting through the haze of confusion and sleep like a beacon of clarity amidst the chaos.
Jimin simply nods, a whirlwind of panic swirling in his eyes, each frantic heartbeat urging them to hasten their efforts. With a bush fire, time is a merciless adversary, and he knows they must act swiftly to ensure your safety.
With urgency coursing through his veins, Hoseok rushes to Yoongi’s side, his hands grabbing hold of his weary form and shaking him awake. “Wake up, babe!” He exclaims, his voice trembling with urgency and fear. “There’s a fire!”
Yoongi jolts upright, his eyes scanning the room in a frantic search for signs of fire, only to find none. A wave of relief washes over him, his tense muscles gradually easing. Yet, as he catches sight of Jimin’s startled expression, a sense of unease creeps back into his veins, dispelling the fleeting comfort.
“The fire’s raging at Bora ranch,” Jimin urges, his voice urgent as they hastily don their clothes. “We need to move—now,” he insists, his words a fervent plea propelled by the gravity of the situation.
With synchronized determination, they burst outside, their feet pounding against the ground as they rush towards their vehicles. Jungkook’s truck roars to life, its engine already purring with readiness as they pile in, their hearts racing in tandem with the accelerating beat of the engine. Tires screech against the dirt, leaving behind a trail of urgency as Jungkook accelerates out of the yard, the weight of their concern propelling them forward towards your home.
The atmosphere inside the truck is suffocating, weighed down by an oppressive silence that hangs thick in the air. Jimin can hardly take it, the tension gnawing at his nerves like a relentless predator. But as they approach your house, its silhouette shrouded in towering flames, a surge of dread courses through him. Outside, chaos reigns as stable hands dart about in a frenzy of panic, their frantic movements a stark contrast to the engulfing inferno.
Jimin leaps out of the truck, his heart pounding with a desperate urgency as he makes a beeline for Soo-ah amidst the chaos. “Where is she?” He demands, his voice a raw mix of fear and determination, his eyes searching hers for any sign of reassurance.
Soo-ah’s sorrowful expression sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine, a cold knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He glances over at his brother, Jungkook, who stands beside him, his chest heaving with adrenaline-fueled urgency. Together, they share a silent understanding—a silent vow to do whatever it takes to ensure your safety amidst the engulfing inferno.
“They are both stuck inside, they can’t get out and we can’t get in,” Ara’s voice trembles with tears, her words cutting through the chaos like a knife. Hoseok rushes to her side, a pillar of strength amidst the turmoil, his arms encircling her trembling form in a comforting embrace, as they both grapple with the overwhelming fear and helplessness of the situation.
“Have you called the firemen?” Yoongi’s calm demeanor belies the urgency of the situation, his voice steady as he takes charge amidst the chaos. Jimin struggles to comprehend Yoongi’s composure, his own heart threatening to burst from his chest with worry for you. Each passing second outside feels like an eternity wasted, a precious moment lost in indecision—Jimin knows they can’t afford to delay any longer, action must be taken, and fast.
He has to do something!
Restlessness consumes him, an urgent energy coursing through his veins as he clenches his fists at his sides. The weight of inaction pulls down on him like a heavy burden—he can’t simply stand idly by while you’re in danger. Every fiber of his being screams for action, for a chance to reach you, to pull you from the engulfing flames. The thought of you trapped inside ignites a fiery determination within him—he refuses to entertain the notion that you might be suffocating in there, not while there's still a chance to save you.
His body moves with an instinctual force, propelling him towards the main door in a surge of determination. The cacophony of voices around him fades into insignificance—he hears their warnings, their pleas for caution, but he cannot heed them. Time is slipping away, and he refuses to stand idle while you remain in peril. The urgency to ensure your safety eclipses all other considerations. He must find you, reassure himself of your well-being, and bring you to safety, no matter the risk.
The oppressive heat of the engulfing flames envelops him as he stands in the doorway, a stark reminder of the danger that looms within. Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against him, he knows he must make the attempt, no matter how reckless it may seem. Desperation fuels his actions as he improvises a makeshift barrier for his mouth with the edges of his shirt, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the searing heat and choking smoke. Surveying the inferno that surrounds him, he struggles to push aside the paralyzing fear gnawing at his core. Thoughts of your potential whereabouts flash through his mind—maybe you’re still asleep in your room, blissfully unaware of the imminent danger, or worse, trapped and helpless amidst the relentless blaze. Yet, he refuses to entertain the latter possibility, not yet—not until he’s exhausted every ounce of effort to find you and bring you to safety.
As he stands amidst the flames, grappling with the enormity of the task before him, a familiar presence materializes at his side.
With a swift turn of his head, he locks eyes with his brother, a silent exchange of determination passing between them. Without a word spoken, they share a nod—a silent agreement to face the inferno together.
In perfect synchrony, they steel themselves against the searing heat and billowing smoke, and with unwavering resolve, they plunge into the heart of the raging blaze, their footsteps echoing amidst the crackling of flames.
Amidst the oppressive heat and acrid stench of burning wood, the air thick with the suffocating smoke of a fire run rampant, Jimin’s senses reel with the intensity of the fire. The stairs before them lie engulfed in a writhing sea of flames, a daunting obstacle that threatens to thwart their desperate bid for rescue.
Yet, driven by a fierce determination, Jimin and his brother press onward, their footsteps echoing against the backdrop of crackling fire. With adrenaline coursing through their veins, they ascend the staircase with swift determination, their breaths ragged and labored as they navigate the treacherous terrain. As they reach the top, their chests heave with exertion, the searing heat seeping through their clothes and scorching their skin. His heart pounds in his chest as they exchange a wordless glance, a silent reassurance passing between them in the face of unimaginable peril.
With purposeful strides, Jungkook moves towards Jessi’s door, his hand poised to turn the warm handle, but it refuses to yield. Jimin follows suit, his trembling fingers grappling with the warm doorknob of your room, yet despite his efforts, it remains steadfastly locked.
Panic threatens to consume him as he grapples with the realization that their path to safety has been obstructed, the flames of despair licking at the edges of his consciousness.
Locked in a desperate race against time, their shared determination ignites a surge of adrenaline as they exchange a resolute glance. Without hesitation, they channel their combined strength into a synchronized assault on the stubborn barrier before them. With a primal roar of exertion, they unleash a barrage of powerful kicks, the thunderous impact reverberating through the air as their boots collide with the sturdy wooden door.
Driven by an unwavering resolve to reach you, to ensure your safety at any cost, they pour every ounce of their being into the relentless assault. And then, in a moment of sheer defiance against the encroaching flames, the door yields to their collective might, splintering open with a deafening crack as the barrier between them and their objective shatters into a shower of wooden fragments.
As he storms into your room, a tempest of urgency swirling around him, his heart skips a beat at the sight of you, cocooned in the midst of chaos. With gentle yet determined hands, he reaches out, his fingers threading through your hair in a tender caress, seeking to anchor you in the tumultuous reality.
“Love?” His voice, a lifeline amidst the turmoil, carries a blend of concern and relief, each syllable imbued with an unspoken plea for your response, a desperate hope that you’ll awaken from the grasp of slumber and reassure him that you’re safe.
An eerie silence blankets the room as his call goes unanswered, a chilling reminder of the precariousness of the moment. His heart lurches with a primal fear, the stillness of your form casting shadows of doubt in his mind. Uncertainty claws at his senses, a relentless adversary threatening to overwhelm him in the face of the unknown.
Reluctantly, he inches closer, his trembling hand hovering over your chest, a hesitant gesture born of equal parts dread and determination. With bated breath, he seeks solace in the rhythmic cadence of your heartbeat, a fragile melody that whispers tales of life amidst the chaos. As the reassuring thud beneath his palm registers, a flood of relief washes over him, a torrent of gratitude cascading through his veins. In that fleeting moment of reassurance, he offers a silent prayer to the heavens, a fervent plea for your continued safety.
Yet, the sight of your motionless form sends a shiver down his spine, a sobering reminder of the perilous precipice upon which you both stand. Though your breaths may still dance in the realm of the living, you seem to be unconscious, which isn’t good either, but he reckons it’s better than being dead.
Gently, he gathers your weight into his arms, cradling you against his chest with a tenderness that belies the urgency of the situation. As he lifts you, he can’t help but notice the telltale traces of dried tears etched upon your cheeks, each mark a silent testament to the fear and despair that had gripped you in his absence. His heart twists with a fierce pang of guilt, knowing that you had endured this terrifying ordeal alone, trapped within the suffocating embrace of the inferno. The realization tightens his throat with a knot of anguish, exacerbated by the acrid tendrils of smoke that coil around him, assaulting his senses with their noxious grip.
With each step towards safety, his arms cradle you protectively, a shield against the relentless onslaught of danger. Despite the weight of your unconscious form pressing against him, he carries you with unwavering determination, his every movement fueled by a desperate need to ensure your survival. With each step, he navigates through the swirling chaos of flames, his senses heightened to the crackling roar of the inferno that threatens to consume everything in its path. It’s a testament to his quick thinking and reflexes that he’s managed to evade the licking tongues of fire thus far, emerging unscathed from the fiery labyrinth that surrounds him.
As he emerges from your room, a flicker of relief washes over him at the sight of his brother, bearing your sister in a similar protective embrace. Their eyes meet in silent acknowledgment, a shared understanding passing between them that you both are now out of immediate danger. It’s a fleeting moment of reassurance amidst the chaos, when he realizes they have the task of maneuvering back to the safety of the outdoors.
As they descend the stairs, the cacophony of splintering wood and the ominous crackle of flames grow louder, echoing through the crumbling structure like a sinister symphony of destruction. Jimin’s eyes dart frantically around the deteriorating surroundings, a surge of urgency coursing through him as he watches sections of the building succumb to the merciless fire. His heart pounds in his chest as he realizes the gravity of their situation. Each passing second brings them closer to the brink of catastrophe, the looming threat of imminent collapse hanging heavy in the air like a palpable menace. With a gut-wrenching sense of dread gnawing at his insides, Jimin knows that they can’t afford to linger a moment longer.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible above the tumultuous roar of the blaze.
Every fiber of his being screams at him to flee, to escape the clutches of the encroaching flames before it’s too late. They have to get out now, he realizes with chilling clarity, their very lives hanging in the balance as the once-familiar surroundings crumble into ash and dust around them.
As Jimin descends the stairs, his senses heightened by the chaos engulfing the building, a faint sound cuts through the roaring inferno—a whisper, barely audible amidst the crackling flames. His gaze flickers downward, drawn to your motionless form cradled in his arms.
Despite the pallor of your skin and the stillness of your body, your lips tremble with a silent plea, forming words that dance on the edge of his consciousness. With bated breath, he strains to decipher the murmured syllables, his heart hammering in his chest as he strains to catch every fleeting whisper amidst the cacophony of destruction.
As Jimin descends the stairs, your faint voice reaches him through the thick veil of smoke, each syllable a fragile thread binding his heart to yours. “Jimin, I…” you whisper, your words a haunting melody amidst the chaos of the raging fire. His name on your lips is both a plea and a promise, a reminder of the unbreakable bond that binds you together.
His chest constricts with emotion as he hears the tremor in your voice, your body frail and vulnerable in his arms. Every fiber of his being yearns to shield you from harm, to banish the fear and uncertainty etched upon your face. In that fleeting moment, amid the swirling inferno, he vows to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.
Jimin and Jungkook descend the stairs, navigating through the billowing smoke and collapsing debris with a sense of urgency. As they reach the bottom, the sight of the main entrance consumed by a wall of flames sends a surge of panic through their veins. With no way out in sight, they exchange a silent glance, their determination unyielding in the face of adversity.
Turning away from the inferno blocking their path, they set their sights on the back entrance, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. Their boots pound against the scorched floorboards as they dash toward the exit, each step fueled by the instinct to survive. Amidst the crackling of flames and the roar of destruction, they press forward, driven by a singular purpose: to escape the clutches of the fire and emerge unscathed into the cool embrace of safety.
Gasping for breath, their lungs craving the cool kiss of fresh air, Jimin and Jungkook burst through the back entrance, their bodies trembling with exertion and relief. Collapsing onto the ground, their chests heave with the weight of their harrowing escape, sweat mingling with soot on their skin as they bask in the newfound freedom from the raging inferno behind them.
Coughing violently, Jimin gently lowers you to the ground, your figure appearing eerily motionless against the backdrop of chaos. Yet amidst the turmoil, the subtle rise and fall of your chest offer a glimmer of hope, a fragile reassurance that despite the devastation surrounding you, life still stubbornly persists within your fragile frame.
As he cradles you close, he feels the rhythmic thud of your heartbeat beneath his trembling palms, a fragile reassurance amidst the devastation. His yearning intensifies, desperate for the solace of your gaze to pierce through the suffocating haze. A solitary tear breaks free, tracing a path down his soot-stained cheek, as he leans over you, his silent sobs mingling with the crackle of the flames.
He surveys your form, clad in nothing but your short pajamas, and his heart aches at the sight of ashes smudging your delicate features and clinging to your body, while your bare feet carry the painful marks of the searing heat. Unable to stem the tide of tears cascading down his cheeks, he's overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions, his anguish mirrored in the devastation that surrounds you. Fuck, now he can’t stop crying.
“What happened?” As he lifts his gaze, his eyes meet those of your sister, cradled in his brother’s arms, her coughs echoing the struggle for breath that they all share. Amidst the billowing smoke and crackling flames, her bewildered expression speaks volumes, silently questioning the chaos that has thrust them into the cold night air.
Jungkook gestures toward your engulfed home, and a wave of sorrow washes over her features, etching lines of despair onto her once hopeful face. But then, her gaze flits between Jungkook, you, and Jimin, her eyes widening with realization like a sudden crack of lightning in the darkness. With a desperate urgency, she squirms in Jungkook’s arms, a silent plea echoing in her frantic movements to reach you both.
“She’s not waking up. But she’s breathing,” Jimin murmurs, his voice tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration as he seeks to comfort your sister. Yet, deep down, he knows his words offer little solace, for the absence of your consciousness weighs heavily on them all.
Tears cascade down Jessi’s cheeks as she seeks solace in Jungkook’s comforting embrace, her sobs muffled against his chest, her entire frame trembling with fear and anguish.
The urgent rhythm of footsteps echoes across the scorched ground as Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin converge on the terrace where Jimin and the others are gathered, their faces etched with concern and their eyes wide with fear, their collective breaths held in anticipation of the unfolding tragedy.
Relief washes over Soo-ah’s face as she collapses beside you, her eyes darting between your still form and Jimin’s tear-streaked face, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and gratitude, thankful for the sight of you both amidst the chaos and devastation of the fire.
“What happened?” Yoongi’s voice breaks through the tension, his concern palpable as he approaches, seeking answers amidst the swirling emotions and charred remnants of the night's events.
“Come on, wake up love,” Jimin’s voice quivers with desperation as he tenderly strokes your hair, his silent plea echoing in the night air. The weight of everything you’ve endured hangs heavy in the atmosphere, urging him to pray with all his might for your return to consciousness.
“I think she’s unconscious,” Jimin’s voice trembles with emotion, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggles to maintain composure. The touch of Yoongi’s hand on his back offers a brief moment of solace amidst the chaos, a silent reassurance that they’re all in this together.
“Maybe she inhaled too much smoke,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension, laden with concern as he offers a possible explanation for your unconscious state. With the others drawing nearer, their collective worry hangs heavy in the air.
“I just want her to be okay,” Jimin’s voice breaks with emotion, each word heavy with the weight of his fear and love. His hiccups betray his struggle to contain his anguish, tears streaming down his cheeks to cascade onto your face, a silent plea for your recovery.
“She’ll be okay,” Yoongi’s voice is a soothing whisper against the backdrop of chaos, his hand a gentle anchor on Jimin’s trembling back. Yet, despite his attempt to reassure, the pain in Jimin’s chest refuses to subside, a relentless ache echoing the uncertainty of the moment.
As the piercing wail of sirens fills the air, Jimin’s tense muscles finally relax with a sense of relief—help has arrived. The firemen swiftly leap into action, their trained movements a dance of efficiency as they unleash torrents of water and foam, battling the voracious flames that threaten to devour everything in their path. Amidst the chaos, Jimin’s eyes catch sight of another vehicle approaching, its flashing lights casting an eerie glow over the scene. Recognizing it as an ambulance, his heart leaps with a mix of hope and apprehension. Two paramedics rush to his side, their urgent footsteps echoing his own racing pulse as they settle beside him.
A burly fireman strides over, his expression etched with urgency as he scans the group for any sign of distress. With a grave nod, he inquires if anyone else remains trapped inside the fire. Heads shake in unison, a collective silent plea for everyone’s safety. Satisfied with their response, the fireman retreats to join his comrades, a determined glint in his eye as they continue their battle against the encroaching blaze.
Their gaze shifts from the firefighter to you and your sister, where the paramedics are now attending to your needs. With a practiced eye, one paramedic assesses your condition, expressing confusion at your unconscious state despite outward signs of normalcy. Assuring you’ll be taken to the hospital for further evaluation, he seems baffled by the inexplicable situation. Meanwhile, Jessi vehemently refuses assistance, insisting on remaining at the scene rather than being whisked away to the hospital.
The paramedics emphasize the standard protocol following exposure to a fire, urging Jimin and his brother to accompany them. “It’s crucial we assess you for any potential smoke inhalation effects,” they explain, gesturing towards both of them.
As Jimin and Jungkook nod, relinquishing control to the paramedics, they witness the swift actions unfold. You’re carefully placed on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. Meanwhile, another ambulance arrives, from which a fresh team of paramedics rushes to attend to Jessi. Jimin observes Jungkook’s steadfast support, walking alongside her, holding her hand tightly. Despite her protests about the ordeal’s necessity, she's more concerned about your well-being, and Jimin's heart swells with gratitude for your unwavering bond.
You’re gently loaded into the ambulance, and Jimin’s heart weighs heavily with worry. The paramedic gestures for him to join you, and he settles beside you in the cramped space, sandwiched between the paramedic and you. Oxygen masks are swiftly placed over both of your faces, and Jimin’s gaze remains fixated on you as the paramedic meticulously examines you for any signs of damage from the fire—cuts, burns, anything that might indicate the extent of the ordeal you’ve endured. Jimin's breath catches in his throat, his fingers trembling with anxiety as he waits for reassurance that you’ll be okay.
The ambulance lurches into motion, and Jimin feels every jolt and bump along the road, a stark contrast to the stillness within the vehicle. Through the small windows, he glimpses your home, a haunting silhouette against the backdrop of flames and the cascading spray of water and foam. A queasy sensation churns in his stomach, and he coughs softly, his eyes fixed on your serene but fragile form as the paramedic diligently tends to you. In the midst of chaos, his focus remains solely on ensuring your safety, his heart aching with the weight of uncertainty.
Fuck, he hopes with every fiber of his being that you’ll be okay.
You feel a comforting warmth against your hand, a reassuring presence that eases the ache in your body. Slowly, you register the weight of a head resting gently on your shoulder. With a soft groan escaping your lips, the pressure shifts, a gentle response to your discomfort.
Your eyes flutter open, and a dry, scratchy sensation grips your throat. You cough softly, squinting against the assault of the room’s yellow fluorescent light. Where in the world are you?
As you turn your head, your eyes adjusting to the harsh light, they land on something beautiful: Jimin. Your heart quickens its pace, and a smile blooms on your lips as you take in his presence, though his expression carries the weight of worry.
“Hi, my love,” he whispers, his voice dripping with love and longing, yet tinged with a hint of sorrow. The sound of his voice washes over you like a comforting wave, and you eagerly intertwine your fingers with his, seeking solace in his touch.
“How are you feeling?” His gaze, filled with an ocean of love, meets yours, yet there’s a subtle furrow in his brow that unsettles you. Despite the warmth in his eyes, that furrow hints at a worry you wish you could erase.
You cough again, the rasp in your throat a reminder of the ordeal you’ve been through. “Okay, I think,” you manage, your voice a whisper against the backdrop of beeping machines and sterile hospital air.
He strokes your hair again with a tenderness that soothes your frazzled nerves, his touch tracing a path of reassurance down to your cheek. As you lean into his caress, a sigh escapes your lips, enveloped in the warmth and comfort he offers.
With Jimin’s hand firmly clasped in yours, determination fuels your efforts as you struggle to sit up. Against the backdrop of beeping machines and the sterile surroundings of the hospital room, you finally manage to rise, albeit slowly. Your gaze sweeps over the array of medical equipment surrounding you, noting the IV drip connected to a port in your hand, a tangible reminder of the ordeal you've endured.
As the door creaks open, a figure clad in a white coat strides in, their demeanor exuding both professionalism and concern. The doctor’s presence commands attention as they approach your bedside, their eyes scanning you with a practiced scrutiny. With a gentle yet probing inquiry, they delve into your well-being, seeking reassurance amidst the lingering aftermath of the fire. Despite your efforts to convey resilience, your voice betrays the strain.
“That’s to be expected with all the smoke you inhaled. And you’ve been unconscious for a few days, so that might not help the itchy feeling you have in your throat,” The doctor’s words hang in the air, punctuated by the gravity of your realization. Unconscious? For days?
The revelation hits you like a wave, washing over you with disbelief and a sense of disorientation. You exchange a bewildered glance with Jimin, your mind struggling to reconcile the lost time with the present moment. The doctor’s explanation offers a semblance of understanding, attributing your hoarse throat to the lingering effects of smoke inhalation and the prolonged unconsciousness.
As you meet Jimin’s reassuring gaze, a silent understanding passes between you both, anchoring you in the present moment despite the disorienting haze of recent events. His nod offers a steadying presence, a silent promise that you’re not navigating this uncertainty alone. Returning your attention to the doctor, her words linger in your mind like an echo, a gentle reminder of the fragility of your body and the importance of self-care in the aftermath of such trauma.
“Rest,” she advises, her tone a blend of professionalism and empathy, “and we'll monitor your progress closely.” With a final sweep of her gaze, she withdraws from the room, leaving you and Jimin enveloped in a cocoon of quietude.
Turning towards Jimin, you feel the weight of the recent ordeal pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. “There was a fire... in my house,” you utter, each word a struggle against the vivid memories clawing at the edges of your consciousness. As the recollection floods your mind, your voice wavers, threatened by the surge of emotions threatening to engulf you. Yet, despite the turmoil within, Jimin remains a steadfast presence by your side, his silent solidarity a lifeline in the midst of chaos. Feeling his gentle touch, a comforting reassurance amidst the turmoil, you find solace in the warmth of his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your hand.
“I thought I was gonna die,” you confess, the words tumbling from your lips laden with raw emotion, each syllable a testament to the terror that gripped your heart during those harrowing moments. As you speak, you feel the jagged edges of fear still lingering in the corners of your mind, a sharp reminder of the perilous brush with mortality you’ve just narrowly escaped. “But then you came and saved me, didn’t you?” You continue, your voice trembling with gratitude and vulnerability. Turning your gaze towards Jimin, you meet his eyes, the intensity of your unspoken emotions reflected in the shimmering pools of unshed tears that threaten to spill over. In that moment, a surge of longing washes over you, an overwhelming desire to envelop him in a tight embrace, to seek solace in the shelter of his comforting presence.
He nods solemnly, his gaze mirroring the tumultuous whirlpool of emotions churning within you. With a gentle yet unwavering grip, his hand remains intertwined with yours, serving as an anchor amidst the tempest of emotions threatening to engulf you. In his touch, you find solace and strength, a silent promise of unwavering support and companionship through the darkest of storms.
You vividly recall the sensation of sturdy, familiar hands enveloping your body, anchoring you amidst the chaos. Amidst the acrid stench of burning wood that filled the air, his scent, musky and robust, wafted around you like a reassuring embrace, calming your frayed nerves even in your unconscious state. In the firm grip of his hand, you found sanctuary, a refuge from the turmoil, a silent assurance that in his presence, everything would ultimately be alright.
As memories of that harrowing night flood your mind, tears cascade down your cheeks, each droplet a testament to the fear and relief etched in your heart. Drawing solace from his presence, you instinctively pull yourself closer to him, yearning for the warmth of his embrace. With a gentle gesture, you pat the space beside you on the bed, silently beckoning him to share in the solace of your sanctuary. Obliging your unspoken invitation, he rises from the chair with utmost care, mindful of the tangle of wires that tether you to the machines. As he settles beside you on the bed, his comforting presence envelops you like a protective shield, igniting a flicker of warmth that kindles a fire within your soul, banishing the lingering shadows.
You turn to him, your gaze tender as you witness the silent testament of his emotions, a few tears tracing their path down his cheeks. With heartfelt sincerity, you express the depths of your gratitude, your voice soft yet laden with profound meaning. “Thank you, Jimin, for saving me,” you whisper, each word a poignant acknowledgement of the profound impact of his selfless act.
You observe as a cascade of tears continues to journey down his captivating face, each drop a testament to the depth of his emotions. Without hesitation, you lean closer, seeking solace in the rhythm of his heartbeat, nestling your head into the sanctuary of his neck. In his embrace, you find refuge from the turmoil of the past, finding peace amidst the storm of emotions.
“You don’t have to thank me love, I would do anything for you,” he murmurs tenderly, intertwining his fingers with yours once more, his touch a gentle reassurance.
“Are you alright, though? You went into the fire to save me... Are you hurt?” you inquire, gazing up at his face, tracing the contours of his razor-sharp jawline, the delicate arrangement of moles adorning his neck, and the trio of moles gracing his forehead. He’s so breathtaking.
His chest is a comforting support, and you can feel the gentle vibrations as he speaks. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just worried about you,” he assures, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet hospital room.
You smile against his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you. “I’m alive thanks to you,” you whisper softly, the words carrying the weight of your gratitude. In this moment, you’re overwhelmed by the flood of emotions coursing through you—love, gratitude, and a profound sense of being alive. You’re grateful for his heroic actions, for the precious gift of life he’s given you. Because in that harrowing moment, when flames threatened to engulf everything, you were certain it was the end. Yet here you are, with him by your side, and there’s a world of possibilities waiting to be explored together. You're filled with a deep appreciation for every moment, every experience yet to come, with him as your steadfast companion. As you bask in the warmth of his love, you feel your heart brimming with an overwhelming abundance of affection, ready to overflow at any moment.
You squeeze his hand gently and lift yourself up a bit, yearning to lock eyes with him. His gaze meets yours, and you can see the remnants of emotion lingering in his eyes. “Jimin,” you start, your hand finding its place over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm beneath your touch. As you look up at him, his hazel eyes capture yours, and a tender smile graces his lips, revealing his endearing crooked teeth.
“Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” The words spill from your lips, carrying with them the depth of your affection, the intensity of your feelings for him.
His eyes soften, and with a gentle touch, he traces the curve of your cheek, his fingers lingering on your lips. As his touch glides over your bottom lip, a wave of tingles dances down your spine, and an involuntary moan escapes your lips, soft and breathy.
“You have told me. And I love you too,” he reassures, his voice a soft caress against your lips. With a surge of affection, you lean in, pressing your lips against his, savoring the softness and warmth that only his kisses bring. It's a tender embrace, each moment stretching as if time itself pauses, conveying the depth of your love and gratitude in the gentle meeting of your lips.
“Jimin,” you murmur, the weight of your words heavy with emotion, as you draw in a deep breath, feeling the electric hum of love coursing through your veins. “I don’t want to waste another moment. I want to spend every heartbeat, every breath, with you—for all eternity.”
You observe the shift in Jimin’s expression, his eyes widening like saucers, and a flicker of uncertainty dances across his features. Did you overstep? You quickly reassure yourself—it’s not a proposal, merely a declaration of your unwavering devotion. You just want him to understand that you're in this for the long haul.
“Don’t you want that?” You inquire, peering into his eyes, hoping to decipher the unexpected silence that now envelops him.
“Are you proposing to me?” He queries, a perplexed furrow forming on his brow, and you respond with a gentle smile.
“No, I just want to let you know that I want to be together forever. Not that I’m opposed to marriage or anything,” you clarify, your voice soft with affection, and you offer a reassuring smile. As you observe his expression easing, a warm chuckle escapes your lips.
“Also,” you begin earnestly, meeting your boyfriend's gaze, “I want you to know that I’m okay with Deiji, too. I’m ready to help take care of your child as if they were my own.” You grip his hands gently, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. You realize you haven’t fully addressed the challenges of his impending fatherhood and the presence of his ex, and you want to make amends.
His expression shifts, a subtle blend of emotions crossing his features—sadness, maybe regret. It’s a moment of vulnerability that you can’t quite decipher, leaving you feeling unsettled and curious all at once.
“What’s wrong?” you inquire, your voice soft but laden with concern as you peer deeply into his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the turmoil brewing within him.
He releases a heavy sigh before mustering the courage to speak. “It turns out the baby isn’t mine,” he reveals, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and resignation, his eyes searching yours for understanding.
Your eyes widen, the realization sinking in like a heavy stone dropped into a tranquil pond. Weeks of intuition, of silent doubts, now confirmed in a single sentence. Yet, amidst your own turmoil, you ache for him, realizing the depth of his happiness at the prospect of fatherhood, now shattered by this revelation.
“Deiji lied,” he exhales, his voice carrying a mix of resignation and acceptance. Despite the gravity of the situation, there’s an odd calmness in his demeanor, tinged with a hint of subdued sorrow, as if he’s come to terms with the betrayal.
“Wait, that means…” You pause, the realization dawning on you slowly, each piece falling into place like a puzzle.
“Yeah, she cheated on me,” he utters, his voice laced with a complex blend of anger and sorrow, the betrayal still fresh in his mind.
Tenderly, you cup his cheek, your touch conveying volumes of empathy. “Jimin, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, your voice a soft balm to his wounded heart.
He shakes his head gently, a weary smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a quiet strength despite the storm raging within him.
You shake your head adamantly, the weight of his pain echoing in your heart. “No, it’s not. Cheating is never okay,” you assert, your voice firm with conviction. “And I know how much you looked forward to becoming a father.”
You envelop him in a tight embrace, seeking solace in each other’s arms. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your words laden with empathy and understanding, as if trying to absorb his pain into your own being.
His hands find your back, his touch gentle yet seeking solace in the familiarity of your embrace. It's a moment of silent understanding, where words aren’t needed, just the reassurance of each other’s presence.
He draws back, his gaze sincere as he speaks, “It’s okay. I never wanted her. It’s always been you, and I know I’ve made mistakes in the past, dating her just to spite you. I’m sorry for that. But you’re the one who matters to me.” His words hang in the air, heavy with honesty and a newfound clarity.
As his bottom lip quivers, you draw him closer, pressing your lips against his in a reassuring kiss. “It’s okay, Jimin,” you murmur softly against his mouth. “I forgive you, okay?” The warmth of your embrace envelops him, offering solace in the midst of his turmoil.
Tears glisten in his eyes as he sniffles, his nod a silent acknowledgment of your forgiveness. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “With how I behaved, I know I don’t deserve your love. But I’m grateful to have it.” His admission lays bare his vulnerability, underscoring the depth of his appreciation for your understanding and acceptance.
You tenderly stroke his head, guiding him into the embrace of your chest, finding solace in the warmth of each other’s presence. Both of you have your share of mistakes, and it’s not solely his burden to carry. You’ve reconciled before, acknowledging past errors, and now, in this intimate moment, you reaffirm your forgiveness. As you hold him closer, you silently convey reassurance, promising that together, you’ll weather any storm that comes your way.
You linger in that comforting embrace for what feels like an eternity, finding solace in each other’s presence amidst the tumult of emotions. However, as the minutes pass, your mind drifts back to the charred remnants of your home, now a haunting memory etched in the flames’ aftermath. The uncertainty gnaws at your heart, casting doubt on the notion of having a place to call home, leaving you grappling with a profound sense of loss and displacement.
As you hold Jimin close, seeking comfort in the warmth of his presence, a pressing question weighs on your mind like a heavy stone. “Jimin?” you murmur, feeling the subtle shift of his movements against you. “How badly... how badly was the ranch burned?” The words hang in the air, laden with the weight of uncertainty, echoing the flickering flames that devoured everything in their path, leaving behind a trail of destruction.
As Jimin eases back, his eyes meet yours, revealing the toll of the recent turmoil etched upon his features. “Almost the entirety of the house is gone,” he confesses, his voice carrying the weight of sorrow, “but everything else remains unscathed.”
Your heart plummets, and the once bright smile on your face fades into a grim realization. It's the nightmare you dreaded, the cherished sanctuary of your childhood now reduced to ashes, swallowed by the unforgiving flames.
“So I have nowhere to live?” You voice the question, its timidity echoing in the sterile confines of the room, laden with uncertainty and a hint of despair.
“You’re welcome to stay with me. All of you,” he offers, his voice a comforting embrace, as soothing as a summer's night. The words wash over you, a balm to your uncertainty, and you find solace in the idea of sharing a home with your boyfriend, if only temporarily while your beloved ranch is rebuilt.
“I’d love that, thank you,” you beam at him, drawing close for another kiss. As his arms envelop you, you feel a rush of warmth, reassurance flooding your senses. In that moment, locked in each other’s embrace, you realize with certainty that amidst the ashes of your past, a new beginning awaits, and everything, somehow, will be alright.
You, your sister, and your stable hands have all relocated to Jimin and Jungkook’s ranch while yours undergoes reconstruction. Several months have passed, and living in your boyfriend’s abode has proven to be a delightful experience. Jimin has effortlessly woven you into the fabric of his life, making you feel cherished and embraced at every turn. Together with Jungkook, they’ve played the role of hosts and chefs, dishing out delicious meals that have become cherished memories, a testament to the warmth and hospitality that permeate every corner of their home.
It’s as if you’ve found your true home, and you start to wonder if maybe home isn’t defined by a location, but by a sensation, a warmth nestled within your heart. It’s the feeling that envelops you when you’re surrounded by those you hold dear, a sense of belonging that transcends physical boundaries.
Despite the comfort and warmth you’ve found in this temporary haven, your heart yearns for the day your own ranch will be restored to its former glory. With just a month or two remaining until completion, the anticipation bubbles within you like an eager child awaiting Christmas morning.
“Do you look forward to moving back home?” Jimin’s voice breaks through the tranquility of the moment, drawing your attention away from the serenity of the couch. His fingers intertwine with yours, a gesture so familiar and comforting. His question hangs in the air, stirring something within you as you ponder the imminent return to your beloved ranch.
You shift your focus to him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. A soft smile graces your lips as you wrestle with your thoughts. “It’s a bit of a mixed bag,” you confess, your tone tinged with uncertainty.
You nestle closer to him, your gaze drifting down to his velvety lips, tempting and inviting. “I’ve grown to love it here,” you murmur, your voice soft with affection. “It feels like home, with you.”
Pausing, you meet his gaze again, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Yet, there’s a different kind of warmth waiting for me back at our ranch. I miss that familiarity too.”
As he nods, his gaze deepens, hinting at unspoken desires. Drawing closer, your lips meet in a passionate embrace, igniting a rush of sensations. You press into the kiss, a hunger driving you to explore deeper, to savor the intoxicating taste of him. His tongue envelops you, a blend of sweetness and longing, leaving you craving more with each kiss of his soft lips.
With a shared laugh, you both pull back, locking eyes filled with a mix of affection and mirth. The moment lingers, a silent understanding passing between you as you bask in the warmth of each other.
“I’m thrilled you feel at home here. Having you by my side every night is beyond amazing,” he confesses, his eyes shimmering with adoration, his smile speaking volumes. You're drawn to him like a magnet, leaning in for another kiss. While you’ll miss the nights spent together, there’s comfort in knowing you have a few more months to cherish these moments before returning home.
Amidst the kiss, he chuckles softly and breaks away, “As much as I’m loving this, we’ve got work to do. Remember we have to put hay into the stalls while the horses are out?”
You chuckle, realizing you've been indulging in too much couch time, wrapped up in kisses and embraces rather than tending to your responsibilities. “You’re right,” you agree, rising from the couch. “Time to get back to work. Let’s do it.”
You both stand up, Jimin's hand fitting perfectly into yours as you stride out of the house together, heading towards the expansive stables.
Amidst the rustic charm, you locate the towering stacks of hay tucked at the back. With a shared glance and a silent agreement, you both dive into the task, filling your wheelbarrow with fragrant hay. Laughter bubbles between you, turning the chore into a playful competition, each of you determined to fill the wheelbarrow faster than the other.
With a victorious grin, you complete the task first, playfully teasing Jimin by sticking your tongue out as you seize the wheelbarrow and start pushing it down the aisle of the barn. Jimin, undeterred, swiftly grabs another wheelbarrow, determined to catch up, his movements swift and purposeful as he gathers hay, his competitive spirit ignited by your playful challenge.
In the bustling aisle of the barn, he leaps into action beside you, tossing bundles of hay into each stall with practiced ease. Amidst the flurry, a clump of hay finds its way into his blonde locks, prompting a mischievous glint in his eye as you yelp, attempting to evade him. With a playful smirk, he retaliates, clutching a sizable heap of hay and closing in on you, his laughter blending with yours in the echoing space of the barn.
“No, no, babe!” You giggle, attempting to evade Jimin’s playful assault with the hay, but he’s determined, closing in on you until you’re backed into a corner.
With a mischievous grin, he launches the hay into the air, creating a whimsical downpour that envelops you like a gentle rain shower. As the golden strands settle around you, you’re captivated by the intensity in his eyes, darkened with desire. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, sending a shiver down your spine as he presses his thigh against your core, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.
He stands before you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he’s just sprinted a marathon, yet you both know he hasn’t moved a muscle. His proximity is suffocatingly close, his breath warming your skin, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, teasing but not quite touching.
You seize his chiseled jaw with an urgency born of desire, yanking him down towards you, your lips crashing together in a fervent collision of passion. The kiss is fierce, a whirlwind of hunger and longing, leaving no room for hesitation or restraint. Each movement is charged with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze, as if you’re trying to convey a lifetime of love and longing in that single, electric moment.
As you delve deeper into the kiss, a surge of arousal courses through your veins, electrifying every inch of your being. His responding moan resonates within your mouth, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a firestorm of passion within you. It’s as if you’re suspended in mid-air, enveloped by the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours, lost in a realm where time stands still and the world fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a symphony of desire.
“You taste so damn good, always,” he pants between heated breaths, his fingers entangled in your hair, sending shivers down your spine with each gentle stroke. His gaze is intense, brimming with an insatiable hunger that mirrors your own, igniting an inferno of desire that threatens to consume you both. Every fiber of your being aches for him, your body responding eagerly to his touch, anticipation coursing through your veins like wildfire. It’s a testament to his prowess, his ability to awaken your senses with just a glance, leaving you trembling with longing and your desire pooling in your panties, aching for his touch.
“You too,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, the words laden with unspoken longing and affection as you rest your hands on his sturdy chest. His black t-shirt clings to his muscles in all the right places, accentuating every contour and ripple, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from the tantalizing sight. As your eyes wander downward, you can’t help but notice the subtle bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, igniting a fierce heat within you that threatens to consume your every thought.
“Jimin, I…” you gasp for breath, your chest heaving with desire as your eyes lock with his, burning with an intensity that mirrors the inferno raging within you. Every fiber of your being aches with longing, your body yearning for his touch, his embrace, his everything.
With a silent understanding passing between you, he nods knowingly, seizing your hand and pulling you with a sense of urgency back down the aisle, toward the towering haystacks. Each step quickens your pulse, anticipation electrifying the air as you follow him into the room with the hay, ready to lose yourselves in the haystacks and each other.
Amidst the scattered hay surrounding the towering bales, Jimin guides you down into the soft bed of straw, eliciting giggles as you sink into its fluffy embrace. Though the itch of the hay tickles your skin, it’s a minor nuisance compared to the thrill of Jimin’s weight pressing down on you, his lips tracing a fiery path along your neck. Each kiss and gentle nip leaves a tantalizing mark and you can’t help but giggle beneath him.
His thigh presses firmly between your legs, teasingly close to where you ache for him most. A soft whimper escapes your lips, a symphony of desire harmonizing with each tender caress of his mouth against your neck.
Your breath comes in ragged gasps as your hands glide over Jimin’s hips, deftly unfastening his belt, your fingers trembling with anticipation. With each movement, you feel the urgency building within you, a primal need igniting every nerve ending. His low moan reverberates against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, and you can’t help but reciprocate, your name escaping his lips like a whispered prayer. As he grinds against you, your gaze locks with his, a silent promise of desire burning between you.
The intensity of your desire surges through every fiber of your being, igniting a primal hunger that demands to be satisfied. With trembling fingers, you tease at the waistband of his boxers, the anticipation electrifying the air between you. “Jimin,” you murmur, your voice thick with longing, “I want you to fuck me. I need you so bad.” Each word drips with urgency, a fervent plea for the release of the burning desire that consumes you both.
As he withdraws from the tender caress of your neck, his eyes lock onto yours, capturing the raw intensity of your lust. The delicate skin of your neck, adorned with the marks of his fervent affection, serves as a testament to the passion that courses between you. A deep, guttural groan escapes his lips, echoing the primal yearning that consumes you both.
His gaze mirrors your own urgency, reflecting the unbridled desire that courses through both of you. With a fervent hunger burning in his eyes, he reaches up, his touch gentle yet charged with longing, as his fingertips trace the contours of your cheek. “Fuck, yes,” he breathes, his voice thick with anticipation and longing.
Your fingers deftly navigate the fabric, eagerly removing any barrier between you and him. As his boxers pool around his knees, his hardened dick springs free, standing proudly before you, a tantalizing promise of pleasure. The sight of him, flushed and ready, sends a surge of desire coursing through you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” you murmur, your voice husky with desire, as you admire his girthy and veiny cock; the head is red and glistening with precum. The thought of feeling him inside you again ignites a fire within you, fueling your craving for him even more.
As your fingers stoke his dick, eliciting a gratifying hiss from Jimin, he reciprocates the fervor by deftly undoing your pants. Sensing the urgency in his touch, you relinquish your hold on him, allowing him to eagerly strip away the barriers between you. With a sense of urgency, he slides down your pants and panties.
“Babe, you’re already dripping,” his voice, a husky whisper, sends shivers down your spine as his eyes widen with desire. The intensity of his gaze ignites an inferno within you, fueling your longing for him. Unable to contain your desire any longer, you arch your hips upward, a silent plea for him to fulfill your burning need.
“Yeah. I just want you so bad,” you murmur between desperate kisses, your fingers curling into his shirt as you draw him closer. A surge of longing courses through you as you feel his dick pressing against your heated pussy. With each tantalizing movement of his hips, his cock brushes against your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your grip on his arms tightens, your nails digging into his skin, as you lose yourself in the ecstasy of his touch.
“Fuck that’s good,” you gasp, your breath hitching with each delicious stroke of his cock against your folds and clit. Every movement sends electric currents of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting a fire of desire within you. Your senses are overwhelmed with the intoxicating blend of arousal and anticipation, leaving you trembling with need. As much as the friction against your most sensitive areas drives you wild, the ache for him to be inside you grows stronger with each passing moment.
His touch sends shivers down your spine as his fingers glide over your cheek, the intensity of his gaze reflecting the hunger coursing through him.
“So wet,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp, filled with desire and need.
Your breath hitches as you spread your legs wider, offering yourself fully to him amidst the scattered hay, the remnants of clothing forgotten in the heat of the moment. Jimin'’s relentless grinding ignites a fervor within you, eliciting desperate cries of pleasure. But as your senses reel, you seize his movements, locking eyes with him in a primal plea. “Jimin,” you gasp, urgency lacing your voice, “I need you inside me—right now.”
His chuckle dances in the air, teasingly playful, as he savors your eagerness. “So impatient. But I want to take my time with you,” he muses, his voice a velvet caress that stirs desire. His playful pout almost breaks your resolve, but the ache between your thighs demands satisfaction. Your core pulses with anticipation, craving the exquisite fullness only he can provide; you need him to fill you up, feel the stretch of him, the tingles he gives you, oh so fucking delicious.
“You can take your time, once you’re inside me my love,” you murmur, your voice a seductive whisper that ignites a fire in his eyes. Cupping his cheeks, you draw him into a passionate kiss, your urgency urging him to fulfill your craving. He nods, his desire mirroring yours as he relinquishes the teasing of your clit, his focus shifting to the imminent union of your bodies.
His cock glistens with the slickness of your arousal, from all the rubbing he did to your clit. With a hand, he guides his dick, teasing your entrance with its velvety heat, each touch sending a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins.
“Jimin,” your breath catches in your throat as he teases your entrance again, your voice a soft warning in a hiss, urging him to take you fully. His chuckle, accompanied by that endearing display of crooked teeth you adore, is all the reassurance you need before he presses into your welcoming warmth, sending a shiver of pleasure coursing through your body.
Gradually, he eases himself into you, each inch a tantalizing stretch that sets your nerves ablaze. Your arousal has left you slick and ready, no sting, only the exquisite sensation of being completely filled. When he finally reaches the hilt, his disheveled hair framing his face in a tantalizing manner, he already appears thoroughly ravished by the desire coursing through him.
His breath hitches as he withdraws entirely, the intensity of his desire evident in the way he swiftly realigns and thrusts back inside you with force.
You moan his name, fingers digging into his biceps as you plead, “Harder, babe.”
Jimin complies, but his pace remains deliberate. He did say he wanted to take his time with you. Each thrust is deliberate, unhurried, yet filled with a sensuality that drives you relentlessly toward the edge of ecstasy.
With every thrust, he emits a low grunt, his nose scrunching in concentration, a sight that makes you smile because you think it looks so damn cute and it makes your heart flutter with love.
An incessant itch prickles at your back, a reminder of the hay strewn beneath you. You silently thank the fabric of your shirt for shielding you, sparing you from the discomfort that would surely ensue if it weren’t there.
In the silence that envelops you both, your eyes lock in a wordless exchange brimming with intimacy. No words are needed as you bask in the profound connection between you. His presence alone speaks volumes, echoing the depth of your union. Each of his deliberate thrusts plunges you into a realm of ecstasy, delving deeper until he finds that sweet spot, igniting sensations that curl your toes and leave you gasping for more.
His breaths come in ragged pants, matching the rhythm of his deliberate thrusts—each one deep, hard, and achingly slow. You sense his awareness of the way your walls clench around him, urging him on. With a voice strained with desire, he murmurs, “Are you close?”
“Yeah,” you gasp, the word barely escaping your lips as your body writhes beneath him, consumed by the intoxicating rush of pleasure.
His fingers dance over your pulsating clit, each stroke synchronized perfectly with his deep, rhythmic thrusts, sending electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With every delicate touch on your small bundle of nerves, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of a climax as your breath quickens.
“Come on my cock,” he urges, his voice a husky command that sends shivers down your spine. With a firm grip on your throbbing clit, he intensifies his movements, his eyes ablaze with desire as he implores you to let go, to surrender to the pleasure coursing through your body.
His image is a sinful delight, with his tousled blonde locks framing his sweaty face, his dick lodged inside you electrifying, and his skilled fingers orchestrating ecstasy on your throbbing clit. It’s overwhelming, the sensation building inside you, simmering for what feels like an eternity until you finally surrender. With a primal whimper, you give in to the release, your body convulsing in pleasure as you climax around his cock.
“Fuck,” breathless and trembling, you pant, feeling him withdraw his fingers from your throbbing clit, yet continuing his languid, deep, and unhurried thrusts. Every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. Despite your disheveled state, he chuckles softly, but you find solace in his amusement, knowing that in this moment, nothing else matters.
Lost in a haze of lust, you fail to register the creak of the door opening until it’s nearly too late.
“I just have to find my jacket, I think I left it here somewhere,” your heart skips a beat as Hoseok’s voice echoes through the stables, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. Wide-eyed, you let out an involuntary moan, still gasping for air, and your gaze shoots to Jimin, his girthy cock still buried deep inside your pussy.
You witness the panic reflected in Jimin’s widened eyes, attempting to push him away in haste. But before you can utter a word, he leans in closer, applying gentle pressure to silence you, his hand enveloping your mouth as he breathes a hushed “Shhh.”
As the tension thickens, you wonder if Jimin truly grasps the gravity of the situation. The sounds of Hoseok and Yoongi echo through the stables, each footstep amplifying your anxiety. The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine – the potential fallout from such an encounter is enough to make your heart race. Yet, amidst the turmoil, Jimin remains a statue beside you, his presence a reassuring anchor in the storm of uncertainty. Together, you hold your breath, silently praying for the imminent danger to pass unnoticed.
He stills inside you, not moving an inch. All you can do is hope that they don’t notice you and that they find Hoseok’s jacket fast.
The tension mounts as Hoseok’s voice draws nearer, his words cutting through the air like a blade. “Why is there hay scattered everywhere? And the wheelbarrows out on the aisle, that ain’t safe,” his mumble sends a chill down your spine, amplifying the urgency of your predicament.
Each step he takes feels like a countdown to potential disaster, and you find yourself holding your breath, praying for a miracle to spare you from discovery.
“Are you sure you left it here?” Yoongi’s voice carries a hint of irritation, slicing through the tension like a knife.
Despite the gravity of the situation, a chuckle escapes you, a tiny spark of levity in the midst of chaos. But that innocent sound proves costly, as Jimin’s dick shifts inside you, coaxing a soft moan from your lips, muffled by his warm and gentle hand.
Then, as if time itself holds its breath, silence descends like a heavy shroud, enveloping you in a suffocating embrace. You hold your own breath, a silent prayer echoing through the chambers of your mind, pleading with the universe to spare you this embarrassment. The only sound is the frantic thud of your heart, each beat a drumroll of impending doom. You strain your ears, every nerve on edge, listening for the slightest hint of movement. Finally, the faint shuffle of feet reaches your ears, a symphony of relief as the danger retreats, leaving you trembling in its wake.
Jimin’s lips descend upon your neck, his touch both urgent and tantalizing, while his hand remains firmly pressed against your mouth, stifling any sound that threatens to escape. Each kiss, each nip sends a jolt of electric pleasure coursing through your veins, even as your mind races with the intensity of the situation. Fuck. Is he serious? Does he want to be found fucking you?
A mixture of a rush of lust and adrenaline rushed through you and you don’t know what to do.
Are they gone?
You squirm beneath him, his touch is delicious and igniting a wildfire within you. His dick still rests inside you, not moving, the sensation is nice, and fuck you love it.
“I think it’s over here,” as Hoseok’s voice draws nearer, your heart races like a stallion thundering across open plains, each beat echoing in your ears like a drumroll of impending doom. You strain against Jimin’s firm grip, your breaths coming in ragged gasps that threaten to betray your hidden rendezvous. With every step they take, the weight of the moment presses down on you like a heavy bale of hay, the urgency of silence now a lifeline you desperately cling to. Thank god Jimin is covering your mouth, because you’re not being silent at all.
“Hobi. Let’s go,” Yoongi’s voice slices through the air like a whip crack, sharp and commanding, sending a jolt of apprehension coursing through your veins. It's the sound of authority, the kind that brooks no argument, and you hold your breath, willing the seconds to stretch into eternity, praying they won’t uncover your hidden embrace.
“Why? I have to find my jacket,” Hoseok’s plea rings out, laden with urgency, but it’s futile against the force of Yoongi’s insistence. There’s a tug-of-war in their voices, a battle of priorities playing out in the dimness of the stable. You shift slightly, granting Jimin more access to your neck, and your eyes dart around, landing on a jacket nearby. Fuck. It’s a stark realization—it’s likely Hoseok’s, the very item he’s desperately searching for amidst the scattered hay.
“We can find it later,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension like a sharp blade, its edge honed with unwavering resolve.
“But babe, I think I left it by the hay, I’ll just grab it real quick,” he tries to plead again, his voice carrying a hint of desperation, a last-ditch effort to salvage his misplaced belonging.
“No. We can get it later. I have to show you something outside,” he says, his voice carrying an air of urgency, a mysterious promise laced within his words. It sounds like Hoseok finally relents, abandoning his search for the jacket.
Exasperated, he grumbles, “I don’t get why I can’t get my jacket, but fine,” as their footsteps gradually fade into the distance.
Jimin’s teeth graze your neck, igniting a surge of electric desire that courses through every fiber of your being.
As the door clicks shut, Jimin releases his grip on your mouth, allowing you to draw in a long-awaited breath, relief washing over you like a wave.
Breathless with adrenaline, you exclaim, “Damn, that was too fucking close!”
Playfully smacking his chest while your heart still races, you chuckle. Despite the tension, a smile tugs at your lips as he runs a hand through his tousled hair, his bitten lip betraying a hint of mischief.
With a low chuckle, he leans in to capture your lips in a hungry kiss before resuming his rhythmic movements, each thrust deeper than the last, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body.
He withdraws slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teases, “Bet you’re grateful for keeping quiet now, aren’t you?”
Your eyes widen in disbelief as you retort, “Were you aiming to get caught? Is that a kink of yours?”
His laughter resonates, a rich blend of depth and sweetness, as he utters your name with a fervent moan, “I couldn’t care less.”
With a gentle stroke of your hair, he whispers, “You were so good at being silent babe. Where do you want me to come?”
You bask in the warmth of his praise, reveling in the intoxicating feeling of being praised. His thrusts become more urgent, yet he maintains a deliberate pace, each movement driving you closer to your orgasm. With a sense of urgency in his rhythm, you know he’s on the brink of release. Breathlessly, you reply, “Inside me.”
“Fuck. Do you think you can come again?” His question hangs in the air, charged with anticipation, his gaze smoldering with devilish intent. The tantalizing nip of his lip sends shivers down your spine, a thrilling danger you can’t resist. With a fervent nod, you invite the challenge. As his finger finds its way back to your clit, a primal moan escapes your lips, surrendering to the electric sensation.
Every touch, every caress, every moment with him is an intoxicating blend of ecstasy and longing. He fills you, surrounds you, consumes you in the most exhilarating way possible. You’re insatiable for him, craving his presence with a hunger that can never be fully satiated.
“You’re taking me so good, babe,” His voice, a husky rasp, sends shivers down your spine as he praises you again. You can’t help but admire the way his jaw clenches in pleasure, god he’s breathtaking.
His breaths come in ragged gasps as he increases the tempo, driving deeper and faster into you. The sensation is electrifying, sending you spiraling closer to the edge once more, your body teetering on the brink of ecstasy.
“Jimin, I’m gonna come again,” gasping his name, you lock eyes with Jimin, your plea echoing in the intensity of your gaze as he expertly pinches and pulls at your clit. A symphony of sensations overwhelms you, and you’re unable to contain the loud moans escaping your lips, your hand instinctively seeking to stifle them. Despite your efforts, ecstasy washes over you once more, your body convulsing in pleasure amidst the prickly embrace of the hay, as Jimin relentlessly propels you through the waves of your climax.
“Shit, so fucking pretty babe,” his words, dripping with raw desire, ignite a fire within you as he showers you with praise once more. The intensity of his admiration sends a surge of both love and lust coursing through your veins, causing your inner walls to pulsate with a primal need that only he can satisfy.
His hands assertively grip your hips, drawing you into him, while your fingers clench his sturdy biceps, anchoring yourself in the electrifying moment. His parted lips and rapid breaths synchronize with the rhythmic thrust of his hips, each movement a testament to his escalating desire. The friction of his dick against your walls elicits a delicious sensation, a prelude to the impending climax. You watch, captivated, as he nears the edge, pleasure etching across his features—his furrowed brows, scrunched nose, and the tightening grip of his hands on your hips. With a primal grunt, he releases his warm essence deep inside you, punctuating the moment with the fervent utterance of your name.
With a few final, fervent thrusts, he drives into you, while a mixture of both your juices spills out of your spent pussy and trails down to the hay. Gasping for air, chests rising and falling with the intensity of your shared ardor, you both revel in the aftermath of your ecstasy. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he leans in to capture your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.
As he moans your name, the sound reverberates through your body, sending intoxicating shivers cascading down your spine. Your body responds instinctively, pulsating around him with an undeniable fervor.
He withdraws slightly, trailing his lips down to your neck, where he plants soft, lingering kisses before tracing a path upward to your ear. The warmth of his breath caresses your skin, sending delightful shivers coursing through your body as you quiver beneath him. Though his words are whispered, they echo loudly in the depths of your being, “I love you.”
Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜
Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️
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#jimin x reader#jimin bts#park jimin#jimin#jimin fanfic#jimin fic#jimin imagine#jimin smut#jimin x you#park jimin imagine#park jimin smut#park jimin x reader#bts jimin#park jimin x you#bts jimin x reader#park jimin imagines#park jimin bts#bts park jimin#pjm x you#pjm smut#pjm x reader#bts pjm#pjm#bts x reader#bts x you#bts fic#bts fanfiction#bts fics#jimin fluff#bts smut
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I’d Hate To Say it | pjm (m.list)
❝i needed you and you fuckin’ left me.❞
summary: when you return home from studying abroad, you come to find your former best friend, jimin, has made drastic changes to his life that could put him in danger or behind bars forever.
pairings: drug dealer!jimin x f!reader.
warnings: smut, violence, fluff, blood and gore, ex best friend!jimin, gang member!jimin, tattooed/pierced!jimin, long hair!jimin, use of guns/knives, mentions of self harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drugs, drug addiction, angst, murder, strong language, 18+, minors dni.
author’s note: yes, yes another one. obviously i had to write something with my love jimin. also if you can’t tell i have an obsession for tattoos and piercings.
©btsugarush. please do not repost.
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#pjm#pjm x reader#pjm smut#bts pjm#pjm fic#park jimin#park jimin x reader#park jimin x you#park jimin x y/n#mafia bts#jimin x reader#jimin#bts jimin#jiminie#jimin smut#jimin x you#jimin x y/n#park jimin smut#bts fic#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts x reader#jimin fanfic#jimin fluff#park jimin fanfic
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a/n: so this was stuck too long in my WIP it might feel a little rushed at the end but I’ve been in a slump for awhile so this is a small win to be able to finished. I hope you like demon Jimin.
Warning: 18+, minors DNI, virgin reader, deception, a little Stockholm Syndrome-ish, death/suicide insinuated (this one’s dark, so please be caution before reading)
Summary: Having an imaginary friend is normal for most kids. What’s not normal is when you don’t outgrow it well in your teens. He’s persistent and possessive but when you meet who you thought was the love of your life, can you really deny your own heart? Even when he’s a demon lord?
Pairing: Park Jimin x you, Kim Taehyung, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin
Tags: Demon Jimin! Yandere Jimin! Penetrative sex, controlling partner, deception, dom Jimin ofc because obviously this is supposed to be Set Me Free inspired.
Word count: 14k
FIVE
The small hand wrapped around the pencil made the stationery look twice its usual size, gliding over the white paper as the little girl scribbled, forehead creasing in concentration, tongue sticking out.
“What are you drawing?” her mother asked, leaning over to see the purple drawing. It’s a little difficult to make out but she can see two stick figures, one sitting down at a table with pigtails, drawing something, the other hunched down in the corner of the room. The woman pointed to the figure with pigtails. “Is that you, sweetie?”
The little girl nodded, pigtails flying into her face.
“And who’s this?” her mother pointed to the figure in the corner.
Without looking up, the pencil still moving over the paper as she added in more details, she answered, “Jimin.”
“Who’s Jimin? Is he your new friend from kindergarten?”
The girl shook her head.
Her mother frowned, a little confused. “Oh? Is he one of the Kim boys? I forgot their names.”
Again, the girl shook her head. She finally stopped drawing and looked up to her mother, sighing as if annoyed she had to explain this simple thing. “No. Jimin lives in my closet, mummy. He doesn’t go outside.”
Her mother’s blood ran cold, the words stuck in her throat. She watched her daughter go back to drawing, not even realising the way her mother’s heart was going wild. She licked her lips and tried to calm herself. An imaginary friend. That’s all, she thought. “I see. I didn’t know you have a friend in your closet. Is he a little boy?”
The girl sighed. “Of course. He’s my age.” She paused, putting the end tip of the pencil to her lips. “I think.”
The mother breathed a sigh of relief. She stood up and ruffled the little girl’s head. “Okay. Well, make sure you two play nicely, okay? And clean up after you’re done playing. Got it?”
“Okay, mummy,” the girl said, going back to her little art. Just as her mother was about to leave the room, the woman heard the girl continue to talk. “Did you hear that, Minnie? We can’t make any messes, okay? Or I’ll get in trouble.”
The woman smiled bitterly to herself. Being a single mother is hard enough and her daughter having an imaginary friend only further proves how lonely she was. She just hopes the Kim boys will be good friends with her, enough so that she won’t need an imaginary friend anymore. New place, new possibility, right?
Sighing, she disappeared into the kitchen. “Honey, we're leaving in ten minutes. I need you to be ready by then,” she shouted over her shoulder as she prepared the girl’s overnight bag for the Kim’s household.
THIRTEEN
“Give it back, Taehyung! Give it back!”
You chase the laughing boy around the kitchen island, grabbing an apple from the bowl, ready to lug it at his head when Jin appears around the corner and easily plucks the ribbon from Taehyung’s hand. He gestures for the apple instead and you exchange the items; throwing the apple his way as he slides the ribbon across the island. “Thanks,” you say to him as Taehyung sulks. “It’s good to know not all of you are jackasses.”
Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you before going upstairs to his room, leaving you with the eldest. Munching on the apple, Jin points to the ribbon. “Another award?”
You nod, suddenly shy. “Yeah.”
“Oh, which one?” he asks, intrigues.
“Jimin.”
Jin chuckles. “Don’t you draw anything else?”
“I do,” you snap, the shyness quickly replaced with annoyance. “But the Jimin ones always come out the best. And why is everyone so pressed about what I paint?”
“Because,” Jin says, taking another bite of the apple, “you’re literally drawing a ghost. He doesn’t exist yet he’s so,” he waves his hand around, “vivid. Enough for you to paint him like that. You’re obsessed with him.”
“I’m not obsessed!” you retort. “And he’s not a ghost.”
“Right. Your imaginary friend when you were five,” Jin adds. “That you keep drawing even until today. It is a little weird considering the fact that you’re drawing him the same age as you.”
You shoot him a dirty look. “Aren’t you going to class or something?”
Jin laughs. “I am.” He picks up his bag and slung it over one shoulder. “And this is my house, by the way.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Fine. I’m leaving anyway.”
“I’ll drive you home,” Jin offers.
“No, thanks. I’ll walk. I don’t want to meet your college friends,” you say, hurrying out the back door before he can protest. You stuff the blue ribbon into your bag and briskly walk up the street to your place.
“You’re angry. Why?”
“I’m not,” you huff out, keeping your eyes up front.
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re lying to me.”
At the change of Jimin’s tone of voice, you finally turn around to look at him. His eyes have grown darker, pupils dilating to the point that the whites of his eyes are gone. The stormy look on his face is enough to scare you to admit the truth. “I don’t like it when people talk about you like I’m crazy.”
“Why do you care what others think?” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
You don’t answer, looking down at your feet sullenly as you walk.
“And what’s with Jin, huh?” he prods, leaning close to your face. “I told you to keep away from him. I told you to keep away from all of them.”
“They’re nice,” you say lamely. “I don’t know what your problem is with them.”
“They’re always trying to break us apart. I don’t like anyone who tries to break us apart.”
You remain quiet the rest of the way home because arguing with him is futile. He always gets his way, you think, as Jimin places a cold hand on your shoulder, his fingertips sinking into your flesh.
TWENTY
The world is spinning a mile a minute and the arm wrapped around your middle is only making you want to puke even more.
Namjoon slowly places you across the sofa, making sure both your feet are up before he finally fully lets you go; gently, of course. He rushes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and an ibuprofen for when you wake up just as Taehyung emerges from the bathroom with a bucket to place by your side.
You’re murmuring something, your words slurred, making it hard for Taehyung to understand. He puts his ear close to your mouth, listening hard in case you’re telling him something important.
“What’s she saying?” Namjoon asks as he comes back in. He places the glass of water on the coffee table and the painkiller tablet next to it. “Damn, maybe we should’ve gone easy for her first time drinking.”
Taehyung shrugs, motioning for him to stay quiet.
“Jimin,” you mumble through barely opened lips. “Don’t hurt them.”
Taehyung backs away, eyebrows raised all the way up. He turns to his older brother. “She’s calling for Jimin.”
Namjoon’s face clouds over, frowning in concern. “I thought she'd gotten over that phase years ago.”
“Jimin, Jimin,” you call out, your voice growing louder, somewhat distraught. Taehyung and Namjoon exchange glances, unsure of what to do. Just as it suddenly started, you become quiet, breathing evens out as you sleep. Occasionally, your forehead creases over like you’re having a bad dream but the two brothers are just relieved that you’re passed out.
“That was” Namjoon says, “unnerving.”
Taehyung gently pushes back your hair from your face, subtly caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. He thinks Namjoon doesn’t see it but if he did the older one remains quiet. Taehyung stands up. “I’ve texted her mum. She’ll be home soon. Let’s go.”
“You sure we can leave her alone?” Namjoon looks unsure about leaving but he also can’t deny the unsettling feeling creeping down his back, like he’s being watched.
Taehyung hesitates before answering, “She’s sleeping now. Should be fine. Come on.”
In the old leather armchair in the corner of the room, Jimin watches as the two Kim brothers walk out of the house, not missing the way Taehyung looks back at you before closing the door behind him. He had seen the way that boy touched you, had seen the way he had pined over you all these years yet you never listen.
Jimin squats down next to your head, one finger tracing the outline of your face. “I told you to stay away from those boys but you never listen to me,” he whispers, his words piercing straight into your dreams. “And here you are, drunk from your first time drinking. Twentieth birthday and you spent it with them.” You moan, turning your head away. Jimin smiles but there’s no tenderness in his face.
When you open your eyes, the room is pitch black, so dark that even the bed underneath you is invisible. You turn your head, trying to look around but one movement makes you realise that both your wrists are shackled to the bedposts, or what looks like the direction of where the bedposts are supposed to be. The iron chains clang noisily as you pull on them. Immediately, your heart drops.
“Jimin,” you call out, your voice coming out weak. “Jimin, please. Where are you? You know I don’t like being here alone.”
“I know, my sweetness,” comes his voice from within the darkness. He materialises in front of you, standing at the foot of what is supposed to be the bed in his usual all black leather pants and boots. He’s bare from the waist up, his toned body on full display; something that’s never happened before. “It’s amusing that after all this time, you still haven’t gotten used to this place.”
“Get these chains off, please,” you say, doing your best to keep your voice soft despite the panic rising in your chest. Yes, you’ve been in this space before but never like this. Something is different. “My wrists hurt.”
Jimin tuts, shaking his head. “Not yet. They need to be on for now.”
“What’s going on? Why is it different this time?”
“Because, my love,” he says, walking over to your side, the echoes of the heels of his shoes loud in your ears, “today’s your twentieth birthday. It’s time for your initiation.”
“Initiation?” you ask, looking up at him.
“Yes, love. Have you forgotten?” He places a hand on your head, the icy cold of his skin making you shiver to the bones.
“For what?”
Jimin smiles widen, something that has never offered warmth for as long as you’ve known him. Something inside you withers in fear but you can’t deny the other sensation starting up like a fire being lit up at the sight of his beautiful face split by that awful, awful smile. Jimin kneels down on one knee, bringing his face close to yours. “To entwine your soul with mine.”
A dry chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop yourself. “ You’d have to be real to have a soul, Minnnie. You’re just a…”
The look on Jimin’s face takes away the words from your tongue. He knows something you don’t, something you’ve had a hunch about all these years yet had been too stubborn or too scared to actually make yourself face it. With a blink, Jimin’s eyes turn jet black and your breath is stuck in your throat. “What are you?”
Jimin lets out a laugh, a loud belly-aching, rumbling laugh that seems to echo all around the space as he throws his head back. It’s not a nice sound and yet he never ceases to look just as mesmerising as always. The contradiction is throwing you off.
“Fifteen years and only now you’re asking,” says Jimin when he finally stops, looking down at you with such pity. “I think it’s too little too late, my sweetness.”
You gulp tightly around the lump in your throat. “And what if I refuse? To do the initiation?”
The smile is quickly wiped off his face and suddenly he’s on top of you, straddling your chest but not really sitting. He leans his arms over the wall behind you, sneering down at you in a way that strikes both fear and anticipation of what he can and will do, making your stomach turn in a somersault. “It’s not a choice, love,” he hisses, his breath hot on your cheek. “I will have you, one way or the other.”
The menacing tone of his voice makes your heart beat faster. “Wh-what do you mean? Jimin, you’re scaring me,” you stutter out, the chains around your wrists rattling ominously. “I want to go back. Take me back, Minnie.”
“I will, just not right now,” he purrs into your ears. “Honestly, I’m hurt. Your twentieth and you celebrated with others, the Kim brothers no less. And you ignored me the whole night.”
“They threw me a surprise birthday party,” you counter, pleading. “How can I just walk away? They’ve been nothing but nice to me. They’re like my own brothers. They took care of me when my mother wasn’t around.”
“I took care of you!” he bellows, his eyes burning red this time. “I kept you company all of those times you’d cry yourself to sleep missing your dear mummy. I chased away all the bad dreams at night, I stayed with you every night when you couldn’t sleep without a night light on. Not them! They just swoop in when you move into a new place, free babysitting for your neglectful mother. They did all the easy work.”
You can’t help the way your throat constricts from being yelled at, something Jimin, in all his sadistic traits, had never actually done. Jimin sees the way your face crumples as you bite on your upper lip to keep them from wobbling and he cools off a little. He leans his forehead against yours, his dark fringe falling over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. You ignored me at the party.”
Your heart jumps at the sight of him sad. You try to touch him but your wrists are still bound, clanging the chains noisily when you move. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I- I got carried away. I was overwhelmed. There were so many people. You know I won’t ignore you on purpose, Minnie.”
Jimin stares into your eyes, that same puppy-like look still swimming in his gaze, the kind of look that melts you so easily. It effectively wrecks you with guilt whenever you do something he doesn’t approve of, an ammo he’s used over and over again throughout the years. You lean into him as best you can with the chains’ restriction. “You believe me, right? Minnie? You know I need you.”
“Do you? After all these years, I’m starting to think you’ve forgotten that promise you made me,” he says, visibly pouting, sounding the saddest he had ever been. “You promised me that you won’t ever leave me if I keep the monsters away.”
You lick your lips and nod. Yes, you remember that promise, made when you were five, that first night he climbed out of your closet last, after all the other shadows came out first. In return to keep you safe from the others, you made that promise that only a child could.
“I’ve kept the monsters away, haven’t I?”
You nod.
“I’ve kept you safe every night from then on, haven’t I?”
You nod again.
“And so why do you choose the brothers over me?”
You swallow, shaking your head. “I don’t. I choose you.”
The corner of Jimin’s lips twitch. “You do?”
You give a small nod.
“Really? I’m not convinced,” he states, readjusting his position, sitting a bit lower so that he rests on your pelvic bone.
“I do,” you whisper out, feeling the heat creeping up from your waist down. It’s an odd feeling, something that has never happened before.
Jimin’s more of a childhood friend, imaginary as he is. You both grew up together, just you and him against the world when your world had been so dark and so lonely, back when your mother would leave for work before the sun had even risen and come home when you’re already asleep. He was your saviour first then a friend, a protector and a companion but somewhere between being a tween and when puberty hits, he became a deep, dark secret.
No one could see him and after enduring being called a liar and ostracised in the first grade, you learnt the hard way to keep your mouth shut and pretend he wasn’t there following you everywhere you go when in public. You told everyone that Jimin had disappeared, that you had outgrown him just as any children with their own imaginary friends. Only the paintings remain. In truth, you’re not even sure why you painted him in the first place but those paintings are the only times when people would actually listen when you talk about him. In the past tense, of course.
Jimin is beautiful. He’s ethereal and your paintings of him were haunting. They evoke emotions from those who see them, making them pause and stare and weep if they look too long. You don’t paint him a lot, only five among the hundreds of canvases, one for each time Jimin had brought you into this dark space you don’t have a name for, yet they attracted the most attention, so much so that you got a full ride to the Royal College of Art. But Jimin won’t let you go.
Jimin grinds onto you, leaning over so his face is inches from yours. “You do what? Give me the full sentence, love.”
Your throat is dry but you force your voice out anyway. “I choose you, Jimin.”
“Always?”
You whimper as he presses his crotch against yours, the sneer back on his face. “Always.”
The first time Jimin brought you into this space, you were six. It was an escape, a quiet safe space from the raging storm outside and your mother was still not home. You two had huddled together. The second time was at twelve, when your mother’s boyfriend of 6-months kept creeping into your room at night. Jimin had been furious then and while you hid in this space, Jimin promised you he would tell the man to stay away. He never returned to the house since and though your mother cried for his disappearance, claiming that she’d been ghosted, whatever that meant, you had been the happiest.
At fourteen, when the boy you thought you liked, asked you out as a prank for the whole class to laugh at you, the dark space was where you ran to hide, sobbing into Jimin’s embrace. It had been at the end of the school year but when the new semester started, the boy and his family had left town so suddenly that people only heard about it two weeks after. Taehyung had said, “Good riddance,” and even though you were relieved, it had felt too coincidental.
It was at sixteen when the hunch came about, growing in the pit of your stomach like some kind of fungus. A family had just moved in next door and they had a son, Adam, a year older than you; shy and sweet-seeming the first time he came around with his parents, exchanging pleasantries and jokes with your mum at the front door. They moved in the middle of the year and your mum had assured Adam that you would show him the ropes at school, to which you had obliged. Both you and Taehyung had gladly taken him under your wings, including him into your fold of friend group (which included only you and the Kim brothers, really).
It took him less than three months to finally show his true colours. He had broken into your house when nobody was home and when you came back from your part-time job at the yoghurt shop, he had sprang out from the closet and pinned you to the bed. You don’t remember the rest of the details, except seeing Jimin looming behind him. You blinked and you were in the dark space, away and safe from danger. The next morning, his parents found him hanging in his closet, stiff and blue. They moved away shortly after that.
“I prefer you being here with me, mind, body and soul,” drawls Jimin, pulling you back to the now. “Where did you go?”
You’re pulled away from your train of thoughts and see Jimin leaning over you, eyes black, anger written all over his face. “Sorry,” you whisper.
“You’ve chosen me,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Act like it.”
He grabs your sides, nails digging into your flesh and you wince in pain. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I’m here. With you.” You take a deep breath. “Mind, body and soul.”
“As you should,” he says, his voice softening. He nuzzles your neck and you feel his teeth nip just along the collarbone. “Tonight, you will officially be mine.”
You feel his hands move slowly to your chest, softly kneading your breasts while his mouth never leaves your neck. You feel him press himself flat against you, the bulge in his pants so prominent you can feel the shape of him. You lay there, frozen, unable to say no nor even move away. Your heart is in your mouth and you’re too afraid that if you say something, it’s going to jump out and you’ll be dead.
Jimin pulls away, staring directly into your eyes. The jet black orbs in his sockets reflect back your fear-stricken face but he isn’t fazed. He smiles and your stomach twists and before you can do anything (not that you are capable anyway), his lips are on yours and it feels like your whole body is on fire, and not the good kind either. Your lips feel like someone had stuck live wires directly to them and the burning pain makes you scream out, muffled by his mouth. Tears pool in your eyes.
Then you feel his tongue snake in and your eyes widen in surprise: a forked tongue. You struggle to get away but Jimin holds the back of your head in place, grabbing a fistful of your hair. The chains around your wrists clang noisily next to your ears as you start to squirm under him. Squirm as you are, your mouth seems to be reacting the opposite way; moulding with his like they want to be fused together; you both want him and are disgusted by him, lips pulling him in, body resisting. He finally pulls back, displeased.
“I want to go back. Please,” you sob, unable to hold back the tears anymore.
“We’re not done yet,” he says, forked tongue catching the tears. “I haven’t even started, my sweetness.”
Your heart skips a beat. “Start?”
“The initiation, you silly goose.” He continues to lick down your neck, catching your earlobe in between his teeth.
You swallow hard. “Jimin, what is the initiation?”
“You have to give me something you’ve never given anyone else before,” he whispers into your ear and the hairs on your neck and arms stand on end. He moves to the other ear to add, “Your virginity, my love. Your one and only. It shall be mine.”
Jimin’s fingers unbutton your jeans and just as he’s about to shimmy it down, your brain clicks and you finally yell out, “Wait!”
Jimin lets out a growl, raising only his ember eyes to glare at you. “What?”
You’re breathing hard as your mind races to try and find a good excuse. You’ve never even had a boyfriend, never even got the chance to go on a first date. While your female friends, limited in number as they are, gushed about their partners, about the things they would do, about the sweet little gifts they’d get on Valentine’s, you had smiled and been happy for them, doing your best to ignore the bitter feelings clawing at the back of your throat.
You’ve had suitors, of course, but for some reason they never stick around. They’d ask you out but then stood you up when you arrived with not even a text to explain or apologise. If they managed to get past the first date, you never hear from them again after it ends. You’re only twenty, your whole life is ahead of you. It’s stupid but you want your first time with a man to be special. You want to be loved up, taken out on dates, wooed off your feet and be promised the world even if it’s all a lie.
Jimin is looking at you, head tilted to the side. “You want all that?”
You stare at him. “Huh?”
Jimin frowns. “All the things you were thinking about just now. You want all that?”
“How-”
“Just answer the question,” he snaps impatiently.
You nod, unable to say the words. Jimin sighs, tilting his head upwards like he’s facing with a minor inconvenience. “But why? It’s such a waste of time.”
“I-,” you stutter but clear your throat and try again, although your voice comes out small. “I’ve never experienced it. I want to know what it feels like. All this time I’ve only ever seen others go through it and I just…I just want to know what it feels like. To fall in love and to be loved.”
When Jimin doesn’t say anything, you quickly add, “I won’t…I won’t have to sleep with the person. I can tell them I’m waiting for marriage.” At this Jimin snorts but you ignore him. “Just…just let me experience all that and then you…you can have my…my everything.”
You’re not sure what Jimin will say but he looks like he’s actually thinking about it. “I promise,” you say, just to convince him.
Jimin crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes going back to normal. “Okay, fine.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “Really?”
He nods, almost excitedly. “Sure. Anything for you, my love.” He leans down once again, caressing your forehead. “I’ll let you have all that. And after that, I’ll take what’s mine.”
“Thank you,” you whisper out, feeling elated. “Thank you, Minnie. I promise I’m yours.”
Jimin smiles. “That you are.”
You’re back in the real world, already in your own bed. Jimin is nowhere to be seen and he’s still not around the next day. A week passed by and you haven’t seen any sights of him anywhere, like he’s just gone. Like he was never there. It’s strange to suddenly be alone, truly alone for the first time in years but it’s also liberating. You’re free.
A month later, you’re starting to believe that it had all been your imagination after all, that maybe you believed in him so much so that you made him real. You spend more time with the Kim brothers, even get to travel to Europe to visit the Royal College of Arts with Taehyung to see if you’d like the place. You do, so you take up the scholarship and move abroad with him, although he goes to a different school.
You made a lot of friends, went to a lot of parties and art shows. You painted a lot, too, and none of them of the man that haunted your youth. Even his face is a blur, memories that seem to be fading faster than normal and by your sophomore year, you’ve forgotten all about him.
You travelled a lot, mostly around Europe, with different friend groups as well as the Kim brothers whenever your holidays aligned. You met a lot of people, went out on a million dates, experimented with different genders and even had a short fling with an up-and-coming actor, but the one thing you could never do was fall completely in love.
You’d meet someone you think will be the one but nothing ever survived past the third month. This time, it’s not them; it’s you. You just can’t seem to give them your all, pulling away the moment they fall. You don’t know why either and you have no intention of hurting people. So you stop, telling people you no longer have any interest, that you’re asexual, that you’re anything but normal so that people will leave you alone instead of trying to set you up or ask you out.
You miss the connection, you miss having someone to come home to, someone to be there when you wake up from another nightmare. But if you can’t give it your all, it’s only fair you don’t give anything at all. Thus, your purity remains.
TWENTY-SEVEN
You finish applying the fresh coat of lipstick in the mirror, standing back and admiring the view, making sure that not a hair is out of place and your makeup is perfect. Satisfied, you give yourself a nod.
“Let’s do this,” you say to yourself, snapping your purse shut and fixing your skirt. You exit the ladies’ room and make your way to the meeting room. A new partner is coming on board and you, being one of the leading managers for the big project next month, will have to give a presentation to the man, a briefing to bring him up to speed. You take a deep breath and enter.
Your team and your boss, Martin, are all sitting around the big oval table. They look up and visibly relax when they see it’s you. You look around the room. “He’s not here yet?”
“He’s coming up now,” Martin answers, pulling out the chair next to him for you. He leans in to whisper, “Everything ready?”
You nod and smile. “Yes. Everything’s taken care of, don’t worry.”
He breathes a sigh of relief. “We need to make sure he’s happy with this. He’s bringing in a lot of money.”
You bend down to retrieve the folio that you’ll be using when the door opens and everybody stands up. You’re still trying to pull out the thick papers from your bag as you hear a new voice greet the room. You freeze, confident you’ve heard it before. You pull out your materials and look up, seeing the new partner for the first time.
He’s handsome, dark hair with a middle parting to his fringe giving him a boyish look. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his grey slacks as he makes his way around the table towards your boss. He extends one hand and then turns to you, the smile never leaving his lips. You take his hand and jump a little at how cold his skin is. “Jimin Park,” he says, his voice velvety pleasant, “Pleasure to meet you, y/n.”
The way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine for what reason you’re not sure. Have you met him somewhere before? Everybody takes a seat and the meeting begins. You speak for most of the time and Martin beams at you proudly at how well your presentation is. All the while, Jimin only watches intently, listening and nodding but not saying anything more than a few clarification questions here and there. He never stops smiling.
When you reach the end of the presentation, the room gives a round of applause, and so does he, eyes never leaving you, that same smile constantly on his lips. You should be happy, you should feel accomplished that he seems happy, too, but a nagging feeling tells you that something isn’t right. As everyone gets ready to go for a team lunch, Jimin included, you finally realise what it was that bothers you so much.
He’s smiling but it never reaches his eyes; there’s no warmth in them.
***
“So, how long have you been working here?”
Jimin sits across from you, casually leaning back against his chair like he’s very comfortable, monolid eyes sharp on you.
You clear your throat, shifting in your seat like you’re uncomfortable under his gaze. “A little over five years now,” you say with a polite smile. “Got in right after graduation and never left. They’ve taken great care of me.” You turn to Martin who puffs out his chest proudly.
“One of my best, that one,” your boss chimes in, pointing at you while your coworkers chuckle lightly.
“I bet,” Jimin mutters, eyes still on you, but you think you’re the only one who caught it. “Well,” he says, louder now, turning to your boss, “you have me on board. Just let me know what support you need and,” he turns back to you, “I’ll do my best to give it my all.”
The table cheered and everyone fell into light conversation all around. All except you and Jimin, staring at each other, him looking like he knows things you don’t, a smug little smile on his lips, you, a little put off by how much attention he’s giving you. You think about telling your boss of how uncomfortable Jimin makes you feel but you’re a little hesitant that it might backfire since Martin is awfully fond of him. You wrench your gaze away from Jimin, finally, focusing on your food, doing your best to ignore the fact that you can feel he’s still watching.
Weeks go by and you’re thrown into one of the most hectic phases of the project, launching in a couple of months. This is when your phones won’t stop ringing, business people coming and going from your office in constant streams and a lot of fuck ups with orders. You’re running around everyday, barely even sitting down, never mind to eat and it’s starting to show by the slight gaunt look on your face and how your skirt is barely hanging on your hips. But you love what you do so you power through.
You’re on your hands and knees in your office, going through the white blueprint of the event hall spread over the floor in front of your desk, checking every minute details to correct before you send off copies to the vendors when a voice from behind you makes you visibly jump. “Nice view.”
You turn around to see Jimin leaning against the doorframe of your office,a coffee cup in each of his hands and a white paper bag tucked under his arm. You scowl at him, wondering what he meant because your ass would have been pointing in his direction when he said those words. You sit up on your knees. “That’s sexual harassment,” you say, your voice curt.
Jimin’s lips twitch but his eyes widen in surprise, whether genuine or not, you can’t tell. “I was talking about the venue. I’ve been there and those wide windows at the back will give a really great view of the city. The clients will love it.”
The scowl remains on your face but you move sideways so you can bend over the blueprint again, but this time, not ass presenting him. You hope he goes away, taking the hint that you’re busy.
“Here. I brought you coffee and some sandwiches,” Jimin says, entering your office without asking for permission and placing the paper bag on your desk. The coffee cup, he holds it out for you.
You glance at the cup briefly before nodding to your desk. “Thanks. Just leave it there. I need to finish this.”
“No.”
You pause, looking up at him in surprise and confusion. “Excuse me?”
“I said, no,” Jimin repeats; the same easygoing smile on his face, the same cold look in his eyes. “You need to take a break or you’re going to collapse before this project even finishes.”
You stare at him, contemplating on not satisfying him because who the hell is he to tell you what to do? But a steaming cup of coffee sounds so good while it’s still hot, rather than later when it’s lukewarm. You sigh and take the cup from him, standing up as you do. “Thanks,” you say again, much softer this time and almost shyly, mostly for being told off. You take a sip and immediately feel the tension melt away. You sigh heavily, tilting your neck this and that way, cracking them to relieve the stiffness.
“Do you always throw yourself into work like this?” Jimin leans against your desk, the rim of the cup at his lips but eyes looking down at the spread out blueprints and other papers all over the floor. And yet, it feels like he’s watching you anyway, from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug your shoulders. “It’s a busy time.”
“Really?” he asks, looking sideways at you. “You sure you’re not running away from something? Distracting yourself with work?”
You turn to look at him. “What are you talking about?”
He meets your gaze. “Oh, just wondering.”
You stare at him, incredulous, but decide not to answer him. “You should go.”
“Don’t you paint anymore?”
You freeze, looking at him like he’d just grown another head. Your heart rate spikes a little as you comb back through your memories, trying to think if you told him anything about your past hobbies. No, you don’t think so. No one in this office knows that you come from an art background, only assuming that you had graduated from the business school of RCA. You swallow thickly, subconsciously backing away from him. “How do you know I even paint?”
Jimin looks at you calmly, letting five seconds pass by before moving away from the desk to point at a picture frame set on it. It’s a picture of you and Taehyung on your graduation day, the Royal College of Arts main building in the back. “Oh, I just assumed that from that picture.”
“Most people assumed I came from the business school,” you say, your voice a tad bit shaky.
Again, Jimin looks slightly alarmed. “Oh, I didn’t even know they had a business school.”
Bullshit, you wanted to say but your mind is reeling.
“Well, from your reaction, I’m guessing I was right,” Jimin continues, languidly relaxing back against your desk. “So, my question still stands. You don’t paint anymore?”
You don’t like his tone of voice; condescending and smug, like he knows more than he lets on. You find yourself answering, “No, I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t.” Then, on second thought, you add, “I can’t.”
Jimin tilts his head. “Why?”
Your forehead creases over as your eyebrows stitch together, struggling to keep your emotions in check because you hate it when someone questions your past. It’s always been one of the problems with prospective partners; they always want to know everything. And then get hurt when they do. But to Jimin, you square your shoulders and the look on your face hardens. “None of your business,” you snap, a little too harshly before regretting it. He is your boss after all. Sort of.
“Is that how you talk to me?” His voice is low and cold, devoid of any of the friendliness he had earlier.
You gulp. “Sorry, sir. I’m just- I’m a little stressed out right now,” you confess, not even sure why you are.
“Go home,” he says, his voice back to normal. “Take a rest.”
“But I have to get this-”
“I’ll handle it,” he promises, pushing off the desk and coming over to you. In a few steps, he’s standing in front of you, toe to toe, too close for personal space, looking down his nose at you. He’s even more handsome up close, breathing down on you like you’re nothing but a child that needs to be put in place. “Go.”
You give him one last look before gathering your things, including the sandwiches he brought, and leaving out the door. You glance back only once at the elevator, looking at him looking at you, sipping on his coffee casually, one hand in his pocket.
- - -
You remember going to bed. You remember falling asleep. But you don’t remember waking up and being…here.
Where am I? What is this place? Everything feels so real, so vivid that you’re very sure you’re awake instead of dreaming. But there’s nothing here, just pitch black. You can’t see anything except for yourself, like a game character in a glitch where the world didn’t render correctly. You walk around but no matter how long and how far, there’s still nothing, making you feel like you probably didn’t move at all.
If this is a dream, how do you wake up? Because this darkness and nothingness is unsettling, even more so when you can feel the cool linoleum feel under your bare feet but can’t see it. You stop moving, feeling defeated, hoping you’d wake up soon.
“Hello, my sweetness.”
You jolt, turning around towards the cool voice and seeing the silhouette of a man a little further away. You squint, trying to see better who it is, stepping closer. “Who are you?”
“You know exactly who I am,” comes the voice and then, like a lighting on stage, his whole feature grows more visible. Jimin Park, your second boss.
“What the hell?” you exclaim. “What are you doing in my dreams?”
Jimin’s mouth perks up. “You think this is a dream?”
You look around. “It’s the only explanation.”
You blink and suddenly Jimin is right in front of you, looming so close you have to look up to look at his face. You teeter and step back a pace. Like usual, he has that same smile on his face but his eyes, his eyes are different. They are jet black. “Still think this is a dream?”
You nod but hesitantly. You notice then that he’s bare from the waist up, toned muscles on full display and you think, So this is what he looks like under the suit. You can’t help but stare, unable to deny to yourself the arousing interest in your chest. A wet dream, you think, that’s why he’s here.
Jimin laughs lightly, like he can read your mind. He leans closer and you half close your eyes, expecting his lips on yours. When it doesn’t happen, you blink your eyes open again to see a smirking Jimin. “Were you expecting something?”
You pull away, huffing. “No.”
A finger catches your chin, holding it in place as he makes you look at him. “You’re lying to me,” he says, his voice threatening and your heart races. There’s something familiar about his words, something familiar in the way you feel in his presence. The more you think about it, the more you realise that there’s a subtle fear of him. You wonder why because these past months, Jimin had been nothing but nice and a fair new boss to everyone.
Nice. But not warm. There’s always a cold edge to his demeanour, like everything is an act. Like he’s only pretending.
The look in those jet black eyes is heavy and almost searing at the same time. You want to say no again, but something in the back of your mind warns you that he won’t take another lie and you wouldn’t like the consequences. “Yes,” you breathe out in a whisper.
“Yes what, my sweetness?”
Your mouth is dry but you force yourself to speak. “Yes, I was expecting something.”
“Good girl,” he coos and you feel his cold hand settle on your side, pulling you closer. “See, wasn’t so hard to admit it, was it?”
You don’t answer, feeling his fingers trace up and down your side, sneaking under your pyjama shirt and grazing your skin, making you shiver from the coldness and the anticipation. It’s a dream anyway, right? You can do anything in a dream. You tilt your chin up, looking at him through puppy-eyes and pouty lips. “Well?”
Jimin smirks again, only one side of his lips turning up. “As you wish.” He leans down and connects your lips to his and the searing pain shoots through your lips and down to your toes, making you moan into his mouth. Your eyes shoot open and you’re suddenly back in your bed, staring at your ceiling, breathing like you’ve run a marathon.
You sit up, looking around the room but everything looks in place. The clock on your bedside table shows it’s three in the morning and you have to be awake in another three hours. You lay back onto your pillow but you’re too worked up to go back to sleep. Your lips are still tingling and you touch it gingerly with the tips of your fingers. You recall the dream, seeing your half-naked boss standing in front of you and you shake your head.
Ugh, you think, I have to get that image out of my head.
The next day at work, you’re barely able to look Jimin in the eyes. You can’t help the image that keeps popping at the front of your mind every time you see him so you avoid him at all cost, leaving a room when he comes in, looking away when he’s talking to you. This continues on until the next week to the point that everyone else is starting to notice. Martin finally pulls you aside into his office one day.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks, steepling his fingers together on his desk.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you reply, feigning ignorance. “Is something wrong?”
He sighs. “You’ve been avoiding Jimin and even I can see it. Did something happen between the two of you?”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. In truth, you’re replaying all of the dreams you’ve been having the past week. Every night, without fail, your second boss, Jimin, has been visiting you in your dreams, doing things you only wish he would do in real life, things you don’t even dare to admit to wanting. Every spot he lays his lips on burns like he’s made of fire and yet you crave it every time you wake up. “No, nothing happened,” you reiterate.
“Are you sure?” he prods. “I thought you two were getting on well. He speaks highly of you, too.”
“He does?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.
“Yeah. It’s starting to make me a little jealous,” Martin says with a chuckle. “I brought him in but it feels like he’s stealing away my best worker.”
You shift in your seat, ignoring the unsettling feeling in your chest. You laugh lightly along with him. “Don’t worry about it. He’s not stealing me away from you. I’m all yours, boss.”
“Really?”
His tone of voice shifts and dread fills your lungs. No, please no. He’s been so good to you and you have loved this job. Please don’t. Martin stands up and walks over the desk to stand in front of you, his crotch rightly aligned in front of your face as you sit there. You push back the chair a little bit.
“You’re an amazing employee, y/n,” he says, his voice low and soft. “And I would like to make sure that you’re loyal to me.”
“Of course I am,” you say with a smile. “I’ve been here for a long time, haven’t I? I love my job and I would like to stay here as long as I can. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“Oh, but I do.” He leans his hands on both the arms of your chair. “And with a new, young partner in the picture, I’m worried that he’s going to get all of your attention.”
Your throat is tight and swallowing is painful. “He’s-he won’t. I mean, you’re both my bosses so I don’t really have the power to say no if he has other projects for me when this one finishes.”
“Well then, prove it,” he purrs, his face up close to yours. “Show me how loyal you’ll be to me.”
You lick your lips. “But- but I have. All these years I’ve-”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he says, his eyes darkening.
“Then what do you mean?”
Martin smiles and steps back. His hands go to the fly of his pants and you think you’re going to throw up. Your skin feels clammy and cold and there’s a ringing in your ears. The office door bangs open, slamming against the wall and both of you look around to see in shock.
“Sorry to interrupt,” says Jimin in a serious tone. If he knew what was happening, he didn’t show it. “But we have a problem with one of the vendors. I need y/n to help me smoothen things out.”
You spring up to your feet and excuse yourself, hurrying out of the door with Jimin behind you. You make a beeline for the ladies’ and shut yourself in a cubicle, breathing heavily, leaning against the door as if Martin might just burst right in. You lean your head against your arm, pressing against your eyes to kind of shake yourself out of the panic that’s building.
“My sweetness.”
You look up, blinking at the sudden change of environment. The cubicle you locked yourself in has disappeared, replaced with nothing. Nothing but darkness. The voice that calls for you isn’t the usual flirt; it’s serious, solemn, commanding. You turn around to find Jimin standing there, this time, for the first time, fully clothed in all black. His eyes, though, are fiery red.
You don’t know why you did what you did next but it felt like the right thing at that moment. You sob, running into his arms as he catches you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. He lets you cry into his shirt, caressing your hair and holding you quietly as your body shakes with every weep. It takes a while until you’re finally calm enough to step back, wiping at your face with the back of your hands.
“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “I just- I didn’t know what came over me.”
Jimin watches you, quiet, not saying a word until you finally look at him. “It’s not the first time you’ve run to me when someone’s hurt you, my love.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”
The fire in his eyes dim a little as he tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re always so stubborn. You never listen. So even if I tell you, you won’t believe me.”
“What are you talking about?”
Jimin sighs but the kind of sighs that tired people let out when dealing with annoying situations. “Still so stubborn. Never mind. What shall we do about him?”
Your eyes widen. Does he know after all? Or is this just your subconscious making him know what had transpired in Martin’s office? The latter, of course. It’s the only explanation. You’re dreaming again. Or hallucinating. The thought of what Martin had done resurfaces and suddenly you’re angry; angry at him but also at yourself for being such a fool for not seeing it for what it is even when he has been hinting at it for all these years. But why now? Why only now showing his true colours?
You bark out a bitter laugh. “There’s nothing I can do. He’s the boss. He’ll get away with it or I’ll be asked to move away.” Then you start to nod your head. “Yeah, maybe it’s time for something new.”
“Go back to painting?”
You glare at him. “Why are you so obsessed with that?”
Jimin chuckles and changes the subject. “Well, if you want I can make him go away.”
You wipe the remaining tears from your cheeks but the anger is still there. “Yeah, sure. Do that.” You press your palms to your eyes, an act to rub out all the crying you did earlier but when you open your eyes again, you’re back in the cubicle.
You step outside and wash your face, steeling yourself to leave the ladies’ room to face whatever or whoever is outside. You take a deep breath and open the door and Jimin is waiting on the other side, leaning sideways against a wall.
“You okay?” he asks, approaching you. “Did something happen with Martin?”
You stare at him blankly, thinking back to that conversation, although imaginary, you just had with him in that other place. Thinking of what Martin did to you, or almost did to you, and the fact that you had been dreaming of your other boss nearly every day this week feels hypocritical. “Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Nothing happened. You said something happened with a client?”
“Vendors,” he corrected, eyes as cool and calculating as they always are, looking at you as if he’s trying to figure out why you’re lying, not that he knows that. Does he? “It’s fine. I took care of it while you were in there.”
You raise your watch to your face. “That soon? Are you sure? I can call them up again just to ensure everything is good.”
Jimin gives you a small shake of his head, a small hint of a smile on his lips. “Nope. It’s fine. All taken care of.” Something in the way he says the last part gives you a strange vibe, like he wasn’t talking about the vendor problem entirely.
It doesn’t take long until news reaches you, literally on the 8PM broadcast on TV while you are eating dinner of microwaved pasta. The picture splashed on the screen is one you recognise well, having seen the man for the past five years or so everyday at work. The news talks about how, with the help of an anonymous tip, Martin J. Russell of Rocket Media Ltd has been arrested for multiple sexual offences, spanning years of sexual assaults of past coworkers with pictures and videos found on both his work and personal devices.
Your fork drops into the container as you stare, mouth agape, at the TV. What in the-
As much as a part of you is singing with relief, another part of you can’t completely dismiss the persistent notion that whatever happened to Martin wasn’t coincidence, that it didn’t just happened right after he tried it with you and you had-
You stop thinking, standing up abruptly that your chair scuttles backward noisily. Jimin. Something about Jimin is squirming at the back of your mind but you can’t quite put a finger on it. Not a minute later, you receive an email from HR, blasted to all employees, requesting that if you need to speak to someone, you may contact HR representatives or a mental health hotline, as well as the office will be closed for a week due to the current investigation ongoing. All employees will have the option whether to take days off during the week or work remotely and either choice will have you be paid like normal.
There is more to the email, including a subtle request for employees to keep their mouths shut except to authorities or HR and it makes you think about earlier today. Bile rises to your throat at the idea of having to admit what had happened today when you just want to forget about it all. Your phone rings.
It’s Jimin, now the one and only boss.
You take a deep breath and answer it.
“If you’ve heard the news then you know why I’m calling,” says Jimin over the phone, his voice sullen. “I’m asking you again, did something happen between you and him today in his office?”
You’re quiet, your voice stuck in your throat.
“Y/n,” he calls, a warning tone. “I don’t want to have to ask twice.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you finally answer, your voice sounding breathy. “He’s caught. It’s done.”
There’s a brief pause before he finally speaks. “So something did happen.” When you don’t respond, he takes that as an affirmative. He lets go of a deep breath. “Take the week off.”
“But the project, we’re already behind on-”
“Fuck, y/n,” he snaps. “We have worse issues on our hands right now. Take the week off. I’ll deal with things here and the clients.” Then he sighs. “Have you spoken to the authorities yet? About what happened today? They would want to hear about it.”
“No. I don’t intend to,” you reply shortly.
“Why? You’re protecting him?”
“I’m not!” Your blood boils at the accusation, your free hand in a tight fist on your side. “I just want to forget all about it. Nothing actually happened. He…he didn’t manage to do anything before you came in.”
“I see,” he replies softly. “Are you okay?”
You want to tell him yes, of course you are, nothing happened, right? You should be okay, you should be fine because you were luckier than his other victims, people you worked with and who you were completely oblivious to the suffering they were going through right under your nose. You were so ignorant of what was happening around you that you had respected the man, and had even admired him as an amazing boss. How many times have you gushed about the man? How many of those times had it been to a victim?
Fuck.
Before you even realise it, the tears are already spilling, big, fat pearls crawling down your cheeks. You don’t manage to say anything when Jimin says, “I’m coming over,” and the line cuts. You’re not sure how long you remain on the floor crying, hugging your legs close to you when there’s a loud knock on your door. You can’t seem to get up, the few steps to the entrance area seem too much for you.
You hear some shuffling around outside, hear the person lift up a flower pot and retrieve the spare key you hid there. You hear the sound of the key in the lock and doorknob turning. You see Jimin standing in the doorway, his eyes easily zoning in on you huddled on the kitchen floor. You watch as he strides over and picks you up so effortlessly and carries you to the sofa. He places you down gently and goes back to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he’s back with a cup of tea for you.
He makes you drink it, sitting next to you without saying anything much, letting you cry it out. He remains quiet even when you’re hiccuping through leftover sobs, sitting there leaning on his knees, his fingers locked together, staring down at the floor. He only finally looks up when you make no more sound except for the occasional sniffles. “Better?”
You nod, taking a tissue to blow your nose.
“Hungry?”
You shake your head but your stomach betrays you, sounding out like a dying whale at sea. He smiles softly, pulling out his phone. “Does Thai sound good to you?”
This time, you nod happily, eyelashes still glistening with tears.
You both only start to talk after dinner is finished and pushed aside, when Jimin, his coat jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, had offered to do the dishes. You stand next to him to do the drying, making small talk, exchanging little information about each other’s lives.
“You’re from Busan?” your eyebrows go up in surprise. “I’m from there, too.”
“I know,” he replies. “I read all the staff’s profiles.”
“I see.”
“Have you been back?”
You shake your head. “Not really. There’s nothing left for me there. My mum has remarried and the only family I have left are actually here.”
“Oh?”
You smile. “Yeah. Well, we’re not related by blood but I practically grew up with them.”
You don’t see it but Jimin’s eyes flash dangerously. “Really?”
“Yeah,” you say, “the guy you saw in the picture? That’s Taehyung. Him and his brothers are like brothers to me. Growing up with a single parent is hard and I was always stuck with them when she had to go to work. And she worked a lot.”
“So just them then? No one else?”
You tilt your head, thinking. “No, I don’t think so. Just them.” When Jimin doesn’t respond, you ask, “What about you? Any families around here?”
“Just one,” he says, eyes on his hands washing the forks and spoons. “We grew up together. I was always the one she runs to when she has problems and I make them go away.”
“Oh. That’s interesting.” You take the fork from him, drying it in between your fingers. “What’s she like?”
“Clingy and a crybaby.” He chuckles softly. “But I love that about her. I love being needed and I know she needs me.”
“She lives with you?”
“Not yet.” Jimin finishes the washing and dries his hands. “If you’re feeling better, I should get going. But…”
“But?” you look up at him.
“I know it’s weird timing but,” he pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Would you, um, want to grab lunch tomorrow? Or not, if you don’t want to.”
You’re not sure about going on a date with him for two reasons: one, he’s your boss and two, well, with the whole shitshow happening at the office, it’s hardly a good time for a date.
“Um, sure. I guess,” you answer, feeling a little shy. “If it’s just lunch.”
Jimin’s lips twitch upward. “Sure. I’ll pick you up around noon?”
- - -
That lunch turned out to be more than just lunch.
Jimin is funny and makes you laugh with his deadpan jokes and ridiculous punchlines. Underneath that cold and aloof demeanour, he’s actually sweet and caring. He plans things, takes you out on surprise dates, cooks meals for you and even gives you little gifts on random days, things that made him think of you. He makes playlists for you and even one of those classic mixtapes on CDs when he finds out your car has a CD player. He gathers small bunches of daisies when he finds out you love them more than roses. He surprises you with little things like your favourite tea or your favourite snack and takes candid photos of you to share with you later at the end of the day.
On days when you are watching movies together at your place, he would rub your feet and make cups of tea for you. He would listen to you vent or tell stories about your day. He’s your biggest cheerleader with work, walking that thin line between being a fair boss and a good friend and flourishing at it. When the relationship passed three months, you both decided to report it to HR. You were moved to a different department but you both go out for lunch together almost everyday.
You are completely and madly in love, for the first time ever at twenty-seven. He’s everything you ever wanted, everything you ever dreamed of even as a young girl. He sweeps you off your feet and makes you feel the most comfortable. He respects your wish of waiting a little bit more the night he sleeps over that first time, ending up just cuddling the whole night. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t make you feel guilty about it. You do a lot of the other things, kissing and going even as far as third base and not once did he ever try to push your limit.
By the time you hit six months, he surprises you with a promise ring and you think it’s time to introduce him to Taehyung and the others.
“What’s his name again?” Taehyung asks over the phone as you get ready for the meeting tonight. Both Namjoon and Jin will also be there, excited to meet your first serious boyfriend.
“Jimin,” you quip, the phone pinned in between your shoulder and ear, hopping on one foot to pull up the stocking over your knees.
“What?” Taehyung’s voice comes out a little too loud, a little too panicky.
“I said, his name is Jimin,” you repeat. “Look, I got to finish getting ready. You can ask all the questions later at the restaurant, Tae. I’ll see you guys there.”
“You ready, babe?” Jimin’s head pops in.
“Yes,” you answer, getting your handbag and slinging it over your shoulder. “I’m a little nervous. It’s the first time I’m bringing a boyfriend to meet them.”
Jimin laughs, pulling you by the waist. “Wait, you’ve never introduced anyone before me?”
You shake your head, pouting. “No. Nothing ever lasted long enough for me to do that.”
“I see.” Jimin twirls you around. “I’m honoured.” He gives you a little bow and you giggle. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be on my best behaviour tonight. I promise.”
***
“This is Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jin.”
“Jimin, my brothers.”
The four of them exchange handshakes all around before finally sitting down, Jimin pulling out your chair, of course. The dinner starts with small talk, mainly the brothers asking you and Jimin the typical questions: how did you two meet? How did you guys get together? How did the company react to the news of the relationship?
When the main course arrives, Namjoon switches gears by focusing the questions on only Jimin, asking his background, interests and his work. Jin adds in here and there but Taehyung remains quiet the whole time. He would stare intently at Jimin, frown and then look away. He would give you the same look, too, but he’s sitting too far away to actually ask you anything quietly.
During dessert, Jin stares at Jimin for long enough that the other man notices. “Do I have something on my face?”
Jin shakes his head. “No. You just look familiar.”
“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Jimin chuckles.
“Yeah, but I can’t shake this feeling off like I’ve seen you somewhere.” Jin tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. “Hmm. I wonder where.”
“Me, too, hyung,” pipes in Taehyung, surprising you slightly since he’s been quiet this whole time. “The name, too. I’ve heard it somewhere.”
Jimin smiles politely. “My name is very common, especially for girls, actually.” He gives a lighthearted laugh, squeezing your hand under the table, a signal for you to say something.
“So, how long will you be in town, Jin?” you ask, diverting the group’s attention and it was enough to move away from the topic of Jimin. The rest of the night goes well and the both of you arrive at your place giddy with happiness.
Jimin heaves a relief sigh. “Well, I guess that went well.”
You beam up at him, both hands in his as you stop in front of the front door. “I think it did.”
He nods, gazing lovingly into your eyes. He pecks a kiss on the tip of your nose and you scrunch it up, giggling at him. He pecks another kiss to your forehead and you lean into him. Your heart is beating a little bit faster than usual, both nervous and excited for what’s to come next, what you will ask him for. You know he won’t, but you will. You think it’s time.
“Jimin,” you call him softly and he catches your lips in between his. You moan into him, feeling yourself melting into his front, his arms strong around your waist. He feels safe, like home.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he murmurs against your lips. “What was it you wanted to say, hm?”
“Well,” you say, suddenly shy, suddenly looking down at both of yours and his feet but you steel yourself and put on a brave front. He’s been so patient for you, you can do this for him. “Do you want to go inside for a cup of tea?”
Jimin smiles, his eyes giving you a knowing look. “I would love that.”
Inside, he insists on making the tea, telling you that he knows how to make it just the way you like it. You both sip the tea in silence at the kitchen island, exchanging glances over the rim of your cups like some kind of young teenagers flirting across the hall when you’re only sitting opposite each other. His eyes turn into little half-moons and you know he’s smiling behind the cup, the butterflies in your stomach kicking up a storm. Oh, you are very much in love and for a person at your age to feel like this for the first time, you think it was worth the wait.
You both finish the tea and you take the cups and saucers to the sink. You can feel yourself vibrating with nerves, your hands shaking a little making the cups rattle against the saucers. You place them in the sink and wonder about how to go about it. Do you outrightly ask him? Do you bring him up to the bedroom without saying anything? Do you invite him as a heads up? Ugh, how come there’s no manual for these things.
Your hand reaches for the faucet but Jimin’s hand catches your arm and you feel him press up behind you, warm and strong. With his other hand, he gently pulls back your hair from your shoulder and pins a kiss at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Leave it, my sweetness,” he says into your ear. “We’ll think about the dishes later, why don’t we?”
You hum in response, closing your eyes and leaning your head back onto him, letting him kiss up your neck. You turn yourself around, placing your hands on his chest, feeling the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against your fingers. You look up at him through your lashes, heart in your throat, shaking so bad from…you’re not sure which, excitement or anxiety. He seems to know what you wanted to say by the small smile on his lips but he’s letting you take the lead.
“Do you…” you trail off, not even sure what to ask. You try again, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want to head upstairs?”
Jimin’s smiles widen. “Only if you take me there.”
A strong sudden urge to kiss him overwhelms you and you crash your lips onto his, roughly, desperately, wanting nothing more than to taste him more than you ever had. Your hands go everywhere; around his waist, around his neck, his chest, his arms while he holds you steady, moving backwards and somewhat blindly out of the kitchen with the two of you connected at the lips. When you pull apart to breathe, you’re already in the middle of your bedroom. Wow, that was fast. When did we climb up the stairs?
The bed is right behind you. Jimin leans his forehead against yours. “Are you sure about this?”
Your heart flutters, the anxiety now pushed aside by the anticipation building up from a place you’ve never truly explored. You nod your head once, breathing hard, your fingers fidgeting with a button on his shirt. Gently, ever so gently, Jimin lowers you to the bed, you in between his legs. You continue to make out, suddenly so very hungry for him, catching his tongue with yours everytime it slips in.
You undress him, plucking at one button at a time, your fingers clumsy. He does the same for your dress, pulling it off little by little until you’re in nothing but your underwear and him with his chest bare.
Jimin takes you in, nose flaring at the sight of you. You feel yourself shrink, making yourself smaller because no other man has ever seen you like this before. It’s daunting. Exciting, but scary.
Jimin buries his face in your neck, his hands gently caressing your bra strap and then your side. “White lace,” he breathes. “Did you put these on especially for me?”
You don’t answer, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. And other places. Jimin pulls back, sitting on his knees, looking down at you, raking his eyes from your head down to your toes. There’s a glint in his eyes that you can’t quite read but it makes you shiver. “You know,” Jimin says, eyes locked on yours, “some people say you wear white for your first time.” He chuckles, coming back down for your lips.
“I know,” you mumble. Jimin pauses to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Because it is. My first time,” you say bashfully. “I…I hope that’s okay. For you.”
Jimin’s lips twitch upwards and you see a sort of change in his eyes. But it’s dark so you’re not sure. “Of course, my sweetness. Don’t you worry. I’ll take good care of you.”
The words sounded odd to your ears, a little too commanding, a little too smug. But the moment Jimin’s lips are back on yours, his hands roaming your body, touching in places no one has ever touched before, your head goes completely blank except for thoughts of him, of Jimin, your lover, the one you’re finally sure of surrendering yourself fully; mind, body and soul.
You’re lost in the throes of heated passion, unaware that downstairs, inside your handbag where you left on the kitchen island, your phone is ringing for the third time in a row. Taehyung’s face is flashing across the screen because back at his place not thirty minutes away, while he lays across the sofa, wracking his brains about where Jimin seems awfully familiar, he had to scroll through his phone gallery. It had taken some time, going back years of pictures until he finally found it: the last photo of you standing in your childhood bedroom, leaving for the last time.
There in the background, placed on its side, is the forty by thirty painting of your imaginary friend, a blue ribbon tacked on one corner.
- - -
The room is filled with your loud moans, unable and probably don’t even care to keep your voice down because, fuck, his tongue feels so goddamn good.
You fist the sheets on either side of you, legs spread open by Jimin’s hands on your thighs, keeping them from closing around his head. He has two fingers in your cunt, pumping hard, in time with the flick of his tongue against your very swollen clit. You can hear how wet you are by the sloshing sound his fingers make and that alone is arousing to you. You alternate between moaning with your mouth clamped shut but when it gets too much, your mouth will fall open and the room echoes your voice back at you.
Jimin’s fingers feel so good, enough to make you feel full. In the back of your mind, you’re a little worried about when he finally enters you. How much would that hurt? He clamps down your clit and all thoughts escape through your ears, desperate to clamp your thighs shut but unable to.
With his fingers still jammed inside you, Jimin crawls up, trailing wet kisses up your torso and then letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “So sweet for me,” he coos, licking his lips. He curls his fingers upward, feeling your walls squeezing his digits. “And so tight.”
You mewl, squirming under him. You fumble for his fly, pulling the zipper down and hooking your fingers around the waistband of his pants, along with his boxers. He helps you pull them off of him, wiggling himself to let the materials fall loosely to his ankles. You sit up on your elbows and Jimin brings his hip to your face. Your eyes bulge at the sight of him; thick and long, precum leaking from the tip, sticking straight against his stomach.
“Open your mouth, sweetness,” he says, guiding your head with the back of his hand, sliding himself onto your tongue, hissing at the contact. “There you go, just like that. That’s a good girl.”
You place your hands on his thighs for support, eager to please. You may be a virgin but oral sex is something you enjoy giving. You start slow, teasing him with your tongue against his tip and only focusing on the head, sucking on it like your favourite lollipop. Jimin watches you through hooded eyes, hands on your shoulders. He lets out a muffled grunt as you flick your tongue against his frenulum, feeling the way his cock jumps from the pleasure.
You push yourself down his length, slowly, gauging how much you can take him without gagging. Adjusted, you start to bob your head. Jimin holds your head, both guiding and sometimes pushing your face as low as possible before you start to protest, gagging and slobbering all over his length. You can’t see it but he’s grinning ear to ear.
When he’s had enough, he pulls you up to kiss you, noticing how red your cheeks are, how your eyes see only him, and how your body is reacting to him. He gently pushes you down to the mattress, one hand behind your head. He leans backward to look at you. “How are you feeling?” he whispers against your lips.
“Good,” you whisper back, squirming under him, arms around his waist. “I want you, Jimin.”
He smirks but in your haze, you barely recognise it for what it is. “I know. I’ve been wanting you, too. For a long time.”
You nod, thinking that he had meant these past six months. You’re clawing at him, lightly scratching at his skin as he kisses your face, lowering himself down onto you. You’re so sensitive that at the touch of his pubic bone against yours, you gasp.
“Shh,” he says gently, thumb rubbing your temple. “Look at you. You’re shivering, baby. It’s okay. Relax. I’ll take good care of you.”
Something about his smile sends a shiver down your spine and instead of feeling comforted, panic bells have started ringing in the distance. Your heart rate spikes and suddenly you’re having second thoughts. You quell them down, fighting against yourself to backtrack now. No, he’s been patient enough. He deserves it. He’s the love of my life, there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just nerves. Relax. Calm down. I want this. I want this. Right? You breathe slowly, nodding into his hand, desperate to find the solace you always feel when in Jimin’s presence. Where is it now?
“Jimin,” you squeak as he positions himself in between your legs, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, massaging lightly as he presses your legs apart. You raise your head to look at him and in the dim light, Jimin’s eyes are so dark they’re like abysses as he looks back at you, a soft smile on his lips.
You feel him pressing against your hole and slowly pushes in. It stings and you throw your head back, eyes squeezed shut. Jimin stretches you out and it burns so much it feels like you are being torn open from the inside out and yet…yet it feels so excruciatingly delicious. All these years of holding back, of never finding the right person to give yourself fully to, and Jimin feels both like a reward and a punishment, like it’s both wrong and coming home at the same time your brain is going fuzzy. You feel him bottom out but the pain isn’t going away and at the same time a tingle is starting from somewhere deep within you.
Jimin remains unmoving, letting you adjust. The burning dulls a little bit but a fire has been lit up in the pit of your stomach. You wrap your legs around Jimin’s waist, pulling him close. You blink your eyes open and gasp. You blink a few more times but the sight that greets you never changes. Everything is dark. There’s nothing. You see nothing.
You look down towards where Jimin is in a panic but finds him grinning at you in a way that doesn't feel friendly. He starts laughing.
“Finally!” he exclaims, running a hand through his hair, pushing his hair back. “Years of waiting and it finally pays off. Patience is a virtue.”
“Wh- what’s going on?” your voice is shaking. “I don’t understand. What are you saying? What’s happening?”
Jimin leans down, arms on both sides of your head. His eyes are like two coals staring straight into your wet ones. “Oh, my sweetness. I let you have a little bit of freedom and you forget about me. But don’t worry. We’ll have all night to catch up.” He kisses you and your lips burn, moaning into him but he doesn’t relent. You feel his tongue licking inside your mouth and your eyes shoot open in alarm at the realisation that it’s a forked tongue. Just like that, the box of suppressed memories springs open and it all comes flooding in.
Pulling back, the same smug grin still on his face, Jimin whispers close to your face, “Do you remember now?”
Your eyes are like two saucers, staring back at him in horror. “No,” you shake your head, the tears creeping slowly down into your hairline. “No.”
Jimin’s lips spread wider. “Oh, yes, my sweetness.” He pulls out of you and starts to gently rock back and forth, ignoring your silent cries. The faster he moves, the more your body reacts, so much so that you pause in between the tears, confused. Your heart rejects him yet your body yearns for him, needs him to keep moving or you might wither away and die if he doesn’t. Your fists tightens around his upper arms, both in anger at the long deception as well as the desperation to let him know that you want more; more of him and more of what he can give.
It doesn’t take much for Jimin to get the message, the latter one, the grin only growing bigger, the satisfaction palpable even in his two obsidian eyes. He leans down to your face, fingers softly combing back your hair. “I know you’re angry at me, baby, but you can’t deny me either. You’ve promised me yourself.” He kisses your cheek and the spot feels like your skin might melt away. “I’ve only come to collect what’s mine. Heart, body and soul. Well, maybe not the heart. Not yet anyway. But all in due time, my sweetness. I’m a very patient man.”
“You’re not a man,” you gasp in between strokes, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from letting him know how good he’s making you feel. You can feel the girth of him, the length of him every time he buries deep, can feel the delicious stretch of your walls hugging him. Jimin only laughs, a deep rumbling that vibrates straight to your core and with that, you release your lip to let Jimin hear you.
- - -
When Taehyung arrived at your place at three in the morning, out of breath from cycling like hell, he was already too late.
The house was empty, void of anything that ever proved that you lived there; no clothes, no photos on the wall, no shoes and definitely no you. Only furniture left behind and food abandoned in the fridge. The police insisted that you must have run away with your lover and your workplace had no clue who Taehyung was talking about when he mentioned Park Jimin, looking at him like he had lost his mind.
“She quit,” the receptionist told him with an incredulous look, turning the PC monitor his way. “See? She sent this email talking about finding something new. It’s all a bit sudden and the boss is pissed. If you hear from her, tell her never to come around here unless she wants her head on a platter. Personally, for me though, I think she got balls of steel. You go, girl.”
Namjoon told him to quit worrying, that you’re an adult that can make your own life choices and take care of yourself. Jin just laughed when Taehyung showed him the photo of the painting from long ago, shaking his head and telling him he needs to get his eyes checked. Neither of them had any recollection of that dinner with Jimin. Except for him.
It took him six months to finally calm down enough for his brothers to stop worrying that he might need some serious intervention in the form of hospitalisation. He spent his days at work, pretending to be fine while at night he scoured the internet and the dark web for any signs of you, barely sleeping, one wall of the spare bedroom at his place covered with any clues and hints and circled maps of places he’s searched in.
- - -
On the other side of the veil, you watch your childhood best friend struggle to find you to death, sitting next to Jimin on the throne, your hand in his as his underlings worship his feet.
As the dark lord of the underworld, Jimin lavishes you with anything and everything your heart desires, loves you like no man ever could and satisfies you every night like gods themselves are pounding into you. You smile when he kisses you, look demurely as he holds you and pulls him closer each night under the cover.
You see Jimin in all his underworld glory; a king with a black heart, tattered black wings that spans six feet on either side when he’s enraged, eyes like the abyss when he’s staring deep into your claimed soul. You’re his; mind, body and soul, as promised.
And yet…
Each night, you realise you’re getting better and better at slipping away without him noticing, coming back into the human world, into Taehyung’s spare room with the maze of threads all over one wall. You’re getting good at moving small objects, like a pen or a pencil. And even that marker Taehyung uses to circle cut up articles and places on the map.
One day, you’ll be able to send him an SOS, a message for him to help you cut yourself free. But in the meantime, you’ll sit quietly in Jimin’s arms, pretending like you hate where you are, pretending like you’re not in love.
Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:
#bts jimin#jimin x you#park jimin#park jimin x reader#bts one shot#jimin one shot#jimin smut#bts pjm#jimin fanfic#bts fic#yandere jimin
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this hair color on jimin 💗
#mygif#i tried something different with these gifs and i'm very happy with the result!!#mine#park jimin#jimin#jimin bts#bts jimin#bts#bangtan#btsgif#btsgifs#btsedit#bts edits#bts pjm#pjm
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Please Me | PJM
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Summary: After your new neighbor invited you over for a drink to welcome you in, you end up on his couch with him welcoming the inside of you too.
"
->Smut; Next door neighbor
Warnings: protected sex, drunk(slightly) sex, oral sex(f.), fingering, explicit language
-
Meeting your new next door neighbor surely took a turn. It went from just drinking and talking to making out in the kitchen to your legs being spread open on his couch with him in between them.
You threw your head back onto the armrest of the couch, gripping onto the man's head that was in between your legs.
Moans escaped your mouth from the pleasure the man was giving you. His name never left once, for you had forgot it. But you knew you wouldn't be able to forget his mouth.
The man in between your legs had been giving you the best head for the past 10 minutes.
His tongue swerved around your clit, licking you like ice cream. He would dip his tongue lower to lick from your hole then back up to your bud. The feeling was sensational, amazing.
He was already looking up at you when you decided to look down. His eyes were so beautiful, eye fucking you while he fucked you with his mouth. You suddenly remembered his name and moaned it. "God Jimin."
You could see the smile on his face when you finally said his name. His hands moved down from your breast to rub your thighs that were clenching around his head.
Soft circles of his thumbs glided on your thighs. You threw your head back in ecstasy. Why was he so good with his tongue.
Jimin began to flick his tongue rapidly on your clit, moving one hand off your thigh and placing it between your legs. You felt his thumb circle your hole before slowly entering his two middle fingers into you.
"Oh fuck, Yes. That's so good." You smiled while moaning out. You loved a man that can please you so well. That is able to give you exactly what you want. What you need.
He began to become intense with his actions. You were getting closer and closer to letting it all out. Jimin sucked on your clit hardly, as if you were an ice cube, trying to melt it all. Trying to melt you.
Your legs shook around his head and you gripped tighter onto his hair. Looking back down at Jimin again, you could tell that he was enjoying himself. His fingers curled inside you, making you cum immediately. He rubbed your walls before pulling them out.
The man began to lather his tongue in your juices, then drink you like water. You never had a welcoming gift this amazing. This moment would be remembered forever.
Jimin came up from in between your legs, smiling while licking his lips. "You taste as good as you look." He said bringing his fingers that were once inside of you to his mouth. "I'm not going to get enough."
You reached your arms out to him, needing to taste his lips again. Getting the message almost immediately, Jimin closed the gap between the two of you and smashed his lips onto yours.
You were no longer in the same position from before when your head was on the head rest. Your entire body was flat on the couch with Jimin hovering over you.
Hands roamed all over his body. From his soft hair to his muscular back that could be felt through his thin shirt. You whimpered into the kiss when you felt his hard bulge hit your exposed core through his jeans. I need him, you said to yourself.
Sliding your hands down, you brung them to Jimin's now wet jeans due to you leaking onto him. You began to undo them, slowly. As much as you wanted him, you wanted to take your time to not seem so needy.
Once done, Jimin pulled away from the kiss and just looked down at you. "Baby, are you gonna please me?" You say with lustful eyes and a seductive tone.
"Im gonna do more than just please you." He responded, pulling his shirt off to reveal the body you couldn't stop rubbing on.
Laying there, you watched him take off his jeans, leaving himself in white supreme briefs. He then helped you out of your shirt and bra, naked under his body.
You could tell he couldn't get enough of your lips as he dove back in to kiss you once again. It was slow but so sloppy. "Jimin." You moaned into the kiss. Your bodies could make static electricity from him much the two of you rubbed up on each other.
Pulling away from the kiss, Jimin finally removed his last piece of clothing. You watched as he used his left hand to slowly lower his briefs. His dick popped out and slapped onto his stomach right above his belly button.
He sat down on the couch and motioned for you to come sit on his lap. You did so, sitting right on his hard erection but not putting it in. He leaned in and kissed you immediately after, two naked bodies on each other.
Jimin rubbed his hands up and down your back then came down to massage your ass. Getting impatient, you rocked your hips against him which caused the both of you to moan into the kiss.
One of his hands left your body and began to search in between his couch cushions for the condoms he usually stores there. Jimin doesn't have sex frequently but will always have condoms prepared in places just in case. And you were going to be his first in months.
You whined when he pulled away from your lips again but only to rip the condom wrapper open with his teeth. He kept eye contact with you the entire time, even when rolling it down his long wide dick.
"You gonna give me a good ride?" He asked licking his lips.
"Without a doubt." You responded, lifting you hips up so he could insert himself inside of you.
The two of you moaned simultaneously when you slid down, coaxing the condom with your juices. It didn't even feel like there was one, the condom was so thin. You could feel the veins that you felt when rocking yourself onto him. But this was even better.
"God Y/N, It's like I can feel the inside of you. So fucking wet." Jimin began to attack your neck with kisses and bites. Only moans were able to leave your mouth.
You bounced up and down on the man. This was definitely such a good welcoming gift.
Jimin threw his head back onto the back cushion of the couch, moaning from the pleasure you were giving him. His hands were rested on your thighs, gripping them intensely.
Your hands were on his chest, with nails digging into him. You could of came right then and there when Jimin thrusted his hips upwards. "Shit. Yes Jimin."
He did it again and got the same reaction out of you. A loud moan with nails digging deeper.
Enjoying the reaction he was getting out of you, Jimin began to do it repeatedly. At this point, you gave up, no longer bouncing onto him. Your body fell into his, head resting onto his shoulder.
The man drilled up into you roughly. You sat back up again with your hands on his chest. Your head was thrown back as you moaned more and more. "Jimin! Fuck I'm gonna cum!" You screamed at the top of your lungs.
Quickly, your back met the couch cushions. Jimin hovered over you while still inside. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, holding onto his arms tightly. "You're beautiful Y/N." He said leaning his forehead onto yours.
Deep eye contact was made as Jimin pounded into you. Your breaths were heavy and so was his. Soon, the two of you would cum.
Lips met your neck, which turned into teeth. Jimin bit your neck while also sucking on it. It turned you back into a moaning mess.
Whimpers left your mouth as you began to get closer and closer, sensitive and more sensitive. Jimin dragged himself in and out of your pussy. His pace changed repeatedly. Fast, then slow, then fast again or slow with hard thrusts.
You rubbed your hands up Jimin's arms, to his neck then to his hair. Intertwining your fingers with it, you began to grip it. He bit your neck harder which caused you to arch your back.
A slur of curses slowly slipped out your mouth as well as, "Mm, Fuck you Jimin."
The words made him smiled against your skin, causing him to get a bit rougher. He began to hover over you again on his forearms. "It seems to be that I'm already doing that, love." Then went harded.
At this point you could see stars from how hard you were rolling your eyes back. Your mouth was closed as you bit on your lip, muffling your moans. "Come on Y/N. Look at me with those pretty eyes. Let me hear you sing for me."
Jesus fucking Christ, he would be the end of you. Your eyes opened and you looked up at the perfect faced man. "Jimin...", you said in a whimper, "Fuck I'm cumming."
He was pleased with your answer, smiling as he slammed into you repeatedly. Soft moans left his mouth as you clenched around him, releasing yourself. "Gonna cum for you Y/N."
His eyes fluttered shut as his strokes grew slower. Jimin filled up the condom with his cum, it should've been your mouth.
After releasing, he pulled himself all the way out. The condom was taken off and knotted in no time. You watched as his soft dick harden up again. He looked down at you, licking his lips. "Welcome to the neighborhood Y/N."
You laughed at his words as he came back down to your body. Jimin planted a soft kiss on your lips as he picked you up from the couch. "I'm gonna need to give you another welcoming though. And maybe tomorrow and the next."
"You can welcome me everyday." Was the last thing you said before he pulled you back into a kiss.
He can please you everyday.
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I want to be with you | pjm
☆summary : moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?
☆pairing: Park Jimin x female reader
☆rating: 18+
☆genre: strangers (fan) to friends to lovers, idol!au; fluff, some slight angst, smut
☆warnings: cheating ex, mention of a parent dying, asshole jimin for a few moments, a tiny little bit of jealousy, alcohol consumption, throwing up (jimin and reader both be messy but they have other qualities I swear), explicit stuff: oral sex (female receiving), edging, fingering, badly written dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it babes), slightly dom! jimin, a little bit of spanking??, reader is shy and awkward and might give you a little bit of secondhand embarrassment, sad love confession
☆word count: 32.5k words (the funny thing is I edited to take out some stuff and ended up having a longer word count lmao)
☆a/n: Wow, I am so excited to finally share this with you. Before you read, I just want to warn you that English is not my first language, and I also have slight dyslexia. So, if there are any typos, feel free to tell me so I can edit them out! I hope you will all enjoy <3 (I have read it so many times that I hate it now but, yeahhh hopefully it doesn’t suck). Also, I usually exclusively write badass characters, and I tried to make the reader a softie sooo sorry if I failed hahahaha
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
1 month ago
Moving days had always been excruciating to you. Long and exhausting, and you’d always dread the moment you’d have to drag all the boxes up to your new living place. Even more so today, as you were finally moving to Seoul, after months of planning the whole ordeal.
Seoul had been a dream to you, ever since you had been little. It was hard to figure out why – maybe it was the culture, or the clash South Korea was to your home country. To get out of your comfort zone and just step into a whole new world… it had been an exciting promise, really.
Or maybe home had just never really felt like home.
Yet there was something bittersweet, about Seoul. You had visited twice, in the past – the first time just on a trip, and the second when you had roamed around the city in search of a place to move to last February. Your mother had recommended this apartment, in a posh building that had seemed just a little overpriced for you. You had fallen in love with it, the moment you had seen the view from the spacious living room. You had known you had found a home for yourself as the Seoul skyline had come into view, bathed in the glow of the setting sun.
It had been a future home for you and your ex, and maybe that was really the cause of the bittersweet feeling Seoul brought to you. Indeed, you had been supposed to move here with Collin, but he had decided to stay back, and to not follow you in your dreams. You hadn’t been selfish enough to beg him to come – God knew Collin had his own dreams back home. To build a home, get married and have a plethora of children to fill the empty rooms of his home with laughter and joy.
Something you had never really wanted for yourself. So, you had parted ways, a month before you were set to leave, and you had spent that month putting everything in order, selling the stuff you couldn’t bring along. It had made you feel as if the old you was dead, and you were leaving her behind, in the cemetery that was your hometown.
Not a place you thought one would want to raise children in.
You hmphed as you balanced a large box on your hip, eyes scanning the hall of your building as you walked towards the elevator. You didn’t know what the box was filled with, and you couldn’t help but curse yourself mentally. Heavy boxes were a danger to one’s back, and you were already straining from the effort of holding onto it. But maybe that was because you had been a little greedy, adding a smaller cardboard container above that big one. The small box stood precariously on top – goddamn, had you put books in there? – and you eyed it from the corner of your eyes as you neared the elevator of the complex your new apartment was in. The smaller box started to slip, and you quickly put a hand on top of it to keep it from crashing to the ground.
You doubted it held something fragile, but you still didn’t want to risk breaking something.
Moving days were a pain in the ass indeed. Especially considering that your family hadn’t been able to travel to South Korea to help you move. It was you, all alone, and you had already done so many trips in the elevator that you knew it by heart now – from the fingerprints that someone had left behind on the inside of the door to the coffee stain on the carpet of it.
Or so you hoped it was a coffee stain.
The keys that you held in your hand under the box jingled as you reached forward, heavy box threatening to slip out of your reach, index finger pointed towards the button to call the elevator.
You sighed in relief as the sign over said elevator lit up, indicating that your little maneuver had been a success. You straightened, and a bead of sweat formed on your brow. The box really was too heavy.
You watched the number over the elevator change as it came up from the basement, before stopping on the ground level, doors sliding open.
Sometimes, you wondered if faith existed. If there was a bigger plan to the universe, something written for you already that you couldn’t really escape from. It was the thought that crossed your mind as the doors finished moving, and a dark-haired boy – man – stared at you as you just stood there, mouth falling open.
See, there were a few things you liked about Korea. K-pop being one of those. And you had been a BTS fan for a long time now, part of the army that was their fanbase, and maybe that had contributed to your will to move to Seoul.
Actually, you fully knew it was one of the reasons.
But, nothing had prepared you for this moment. The moment an idol appeared in front of you, as if conjured by your deepest most secret desires. An angel, standing in the elevator, black hood on along with a matching mask.
It was the eyes though, that you recognized. You had spent so many hours looking at pictures of those eyes – really, you had never seen eyes such as his. And that gaze was now boring into yours, as if peering right to your soul, and you found you couldn’t quite move.
And who were you to blame, Park Jimin had always been your bias. Had been the reason why you had gotten into K-pop in the first place.
Jimin’s eyes skimmed over your figure for a moment, gaze landing on your keys.
On the goddamn Chimmy keychain that dangled from your hand, bright yellow that could have caught anyone’s eyes.
When his gaze moved back up to your face, you gulped, feeling very naked. Not that you were naked at all, but to have your bias standing in front of you like that… it rendered you completely unable to process what was happening.
“Are you getting in?” he asked in English, and there was a strain to his voice. As if it was threatening to fall into annoyance, but he didn’t want to let it go there just yet.
Your cheeks flushed bright red as your gaze dropped to the floor, embarrassment winning the war against your will to gaze at him until your eyes would fall out of your head.
You nodded, and you took two steps forward. Two steps were all that it took for you to step into the same elevator as Park Jimin. And it was surreal. He had always been just a picture or a video on the other side of a screen, except that one time you had gone to a concert. But right now, he was standing next to you, hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, eyes staring straight ahead. As if not even wanting to acknowledge your presence.
You stood awkwardly, arm starting to shake from the weight of the boxes. You glanced at the floor levels, and your eyes slightly widened as you noticed your floor was already lit up.
Was Park Jimin really your neighbor?
The elevator shot up, and the first acceleration had your arm straining to keep holding the box up, gravity threatening to win against your weak muscles.
You let go of the smaller container on top, using your chin to hold it in place as your other arm joined the one holding the whole thing. Your muscles sighed in relief, though you knew it would be short-lived.
You maybe should have worked out more when you were back home.
The metal jail in which you were encased was silent, apart from the humming it emitted as it moved up. And it really did feel like a jail, with the cold atmosphere that radiated from the man next to you. It was hard to ignore the harsh look on the small part of his features you could see, but you did your best not to look at him, as your prison passed all the floors until it finally reached the very top. The floor where only two apartments stood, on each side of the hallway, and really, how in hell could Park Jimin be your neighbor?
Your arms – plural this time – started shaking again as the elevator came to a halt, and it seemed like it took a small eternity before the doors slid open. Feeling the need to get away from Jimin, and from the ice you really didn’t want to acknowledge surrounding him, you quickly stepped out, moving towards your door. And maybe it was the rush in your steps, and the fact that your arms really were losing the fight against gravity, but the boxes seemed suddenly twice as heavy. Clutching to them proved to be useless, and the top container slid, wrecking the balance of the lower box at the same time.
You cursed as the two boxes fell to the carpeted floor, the cardboard of the larger one bending until a part of it ripped, revealing its precious treasure.
Your collection of BTS albums spilled from it, as if they were liquid, and your cheeks turned even darker as you immediately bent down, moving to pick them up before Jimin could see. A stupid thing to do, because he was standing right behind you, and the mess you had made took almost half of the hallway’s width.
With shaky hands, you tried putting the albums back into the box they had escaped from, but it only made it rip further. You stopped moving altogether as a pair of jeans-clothed legs stepped over the mess, and your eyes moved up, heart beating out of your chest.
Jimin didn’t once look in your direction as he moved towards his door – right in front of yours – putting in the code to unlock it. As the lock came undone, electronic whirring filling the awkward silence, he finally deigned to glance your way.
A hard look painted his features, and the judgment in his eyes slapped you across the face as your eyes met for a short moment. He seemed … somehow disgusted by you, as if the fact that you were Army made him want to get away from you as soon as he could. And you understood it, to a certain extent. He was famous after all, and he probably had had his share of crazy fans in the past.
That didn’t stop your heart from feeling as if it was being crushed in your chest, as if his fist had closed around it and he was about to rip it from your ribcage.
Jimin looked away as the lock finally finished moving, opening his door in a swift motion before stepping inside, not once looking back at you, kneeling there in the middle of the hallway.
When he disappeared from view, you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze falling back to the mess on the floor. You wondered when your vision had turned blurry, and it took you a moment to realize there were tears in your eyes.
You doubted you had ever felt as embarrassed as you were feeling right now.
You blinked the tears away, putting the albums in a neat pile before picking them up. It really did seem like gravity wanted to win the whole war, because the pile threatened to scatter to the ground again, but you managed to make it to your door without another accident. You had left it unlocked, and you pushed the door open with your shoulder, leaving the pile next to the wardrobe. You then went back into the hallway to gather the small container and the cardboard remnants of the traitorous box that had dared spill your secrets at the worst moment possible.
Well, the Chimmy keychain had been a traitor in and of itself too.
You moved into your apartment, kicking your shoes off by the door to put slippers on. You didn’t even look at the albums once, not wanting to deal with the shame that they still held and promised to be holding on to for a while. You left the small box and your keys on the island of the kitchen, which was the first room of the apartment, before tearing the broken package into smaller pieces you could fit in your recycling bin. You then moved through the space that was now yours, until you reached the living room, and the wide glass windows on the wall showed that same setting sun you had fallen in love with the first time you had come here.
You plopped yourself down on the black leather couch, sighing deeply as you ran a hand on your face, trying to shake the embarrassment away. And even if you knew it was early morning back home, you grabbed your phone, calling your mom on Facetime without an ounce of hesitation.
You looked at yourself on the phone screen for a time, as your living room filled ringing, until your mom finally picked up. From what you could see of her surroundings, she was on set.
“Hi sweetie”, the gentle voice of your mother said through the speakers of the phone. “How was moving day?”
“Mom, why did you recommend this apartment building again?” you asked, ignoring your mother’s question. “You did not tell me BTS would be my neighbors.”
Your mother didn’t reply as she moved away from the lights of the set, clearly searching for a calmer environment so you could speak privately. You glanced away from your phone, eyes once again sliding to the setting sun outside the windows.
“I didn’t know that BTS lived in that complex”, your mother finally replied as she seemed to find a place she judged calm enough. “I just knew it had the reputation to be very safe and private, and with your dad and I being who we are, I just figured it be best for you.”
Here’s to having a famous mother and an extremely filthy rich dad.
“Park Jimin lives next door.” You put a hand over your face as your cheeks burned red. “Mom, he seemed so disgusted when he saw my merch.”
“He helped you move?”
You shook your head, hand falling back into your lap. “No, I dropped a box in front of him and all my albums came out of it. He just scowled at it before going to his place.”
The smile that had first lit up your mother’s face slowly dwindled away. If someone knew how obsessed with Park Jimin you had once been, it was her.
“Oh”, she let out. “Maybe he was just surprised.”
“No, mom, I swear.” You gulped. “He was disgusted.”
Your mother chuckled lightly. “I’m sure you’re making it seem worse than it was. Besides, you met Park Jimin!”
The last sentence was said on a giddy tone, but it didn’t reach you at all. No, it just made you feel worse.
“Mom, I didn’t even say a word to him, I was way too shy.”
“My daughter, shy?” Your mother shook her head, even though you were very much so a shy person. “Again, I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you’re saying.”
You sighed loudly, nibbling at the dry skin of your bottom lip. “Well, it was.”
“Sarah, we need you on set”, a voice said in the distance on the other side of the line, barely even audible to you. You watched as your mother looked away from her phone, and it took a few seconds before her eyes trailed back to it.
“Listen, sweetie, I have to go. But why don’t you go introduce yourself properly to him? After all, you’re neighbors.”
“Mom what? I’m not in one of your movies, I won’t do that.”
Sarah pursed her lips, before once again glancing away from the phone. “Well then, have you finished moving already?”
You shook your head no. “I still have a few boxes to move up.”
“You should have hired a moving company to help you”, your mother said reproachfully.
“Shipping everything here was already expensive enough”, you pointed out. “It’s fine, I’m almost done.”
“Alright sweetie.” There was a silence as a soft smile slowly spread on your mother’s lips. “I can’t wait to come visit you after we wrap up this movie.”
“I can’t wait either”, you replied, and you swallowed down the lump that had threatened to form in your throat. “It’s going to be weird to live in a city where I know no one.”
“All the more reasons to go introduce yourself to Park Jimin”, your mom said teasingly, winking at you.
“Mom, no!” Though this time you did let out a small laugh.
The smile on your mother’s lips turned into a fond one. “I love you, sweetie. Take care of you.”
“Will do, mom, I love you too.”
You hung up, and your eyes trailed back to the windows. The sun had disappeared under the horizon, the light turning blue as dusk settled over the city. With a sigh, you pushed yourself up.
After all, you still had boxes to move.
***
Present day
The screaming of children had you wincing in pain, a headache threatening to win over your senses. Especially as the screaming melted into crying, and a teary-eyed and red-faced child stopped in front of you, tugging on your hand so you’d look down.
Your first week as an elementary school teacher had proven to be a complete disaster. At least you had just taught a few classes the whole week – as the English teacher, you didn’t have a full schedule. But goddamn couldn’t you wait until the day was over and you’d be sipping wine back home.
It had taken you a few days to finish moving in, after that embarrassing first day. And it had taken you only a few more days to realize just how much of an asshole Park Jimin was. How much of an even worse neighbor he was.
Really, he had woken you up in the middle of the night more than once with loud music, and sometimes when you got out of your own place, you had to refrain from gagging at the smell of the trash he left just outside of his door.
You had even brought it down once because you were afraid liquid would seep through the plastic bag and stain the carpet of the hallway. Of course Jimin hadn’t thanked you for it. Indeed, he usually pretended that you didn’t exist, barely even looking your way when you moved passed each other in the hallway in front of your homes. And when he did look at you, it was always with that same condescending and arrogant look on his face, as if he thought himself to be so much better than you.
A month ago, you might have said that he was, but now that you knew who he really was, you knew that he was rotten to the core.
Well, you maybe were being too harsh on him. Ignoring you didn’t really make him an asshole, but you had a hard time dealing with the loud music at night, especially considering it happened at least four times a week.
One would have thought that the walls of the complex would have been sound-proofed better than they actually were, but no, when he had his music on it pretty much felt as if you were standing right in the middle of his apartment.
“Teacher Y/l/n”, the child said through her sobs, and you snapped back to the present, bending down to be at a level with the child.
“What is going on?” you asked, voice as gentle as you could manage to make it through the storm of children raging around you.
The little girl mumbled something that you didn’t quite understand. Your Korean wasn’t perfect yet, and you had found that children often chewed on their syllables in a way that left you grasping for comprehension. And though you were an English teacher, you knew that most of the kids didn’t speak enough of the language to be able to talk to you. So, you always did your best with your Korean, but you knew you’d need a few weeks to adjust.
“Why don’t we go sit over there?” you said in reply, pointing to where bean bags were arranged in a circle, with a few plush toys scattered around them. “Then you can explain to me.”
You should have known better than to put all of your attention on the same kid, because by the time you had sat the little girl and handed her a teddy bear, the sound of glass breaking had you spin your head around.
A guilty round-faced boy came into view, as he looked down at the glass surrounding him. You wanted to curse loudly, but you forced yourself to smile before moving towards him.
You helped the boy to move away from the glass, as the other students looked at you curiously, all of them a little startled from the accident. It led to the room falling silent for the first time in what seemed hours, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you cleaned the mess up.
Maybe you never should have let the children have a free period, but you had felt generous as it was the last period of the week. A mistake you weren’t going to repeat.
In the relative calmness that followed the storm, you were able to have the children sit in the bean bags, along with the little girl whose sadness seemed to be long forgotten as she played with her teddy bear. You read a story to them, in English of course, until the class finally ended and their main teacher came to gather the children. The older lady would bring them back to their own class, where they’d get their school bags before their parents came to pick them up.
You were cleaning the mess left in the classroom when your colleague Chaeyoung appeared in the doorway, a tired smile on her lips.
“How was the first week?” she asked, as you straightened from where you had been kneeling on the floor, picking up the plush toys so you could put them back in the box where you had first taken them.
“The first years were a challenge to end the week with, but other than that it was great”, you replied, though your voice was filled with exhaustion.
Chaeyoung chuckled, nodding her head knowingly. “As cute as they are, they really are a challenge.”
You couldn’t agree more.
“Anyway, I was here to tell you that some of the other teachers are going to get drinks, if you want to join”, Chaeyoung said.
Thinking about going out with people you had known for just a few days made you feel even more tired inside, but you found you didn’t really have it in you to say no. After all, you had been pretty much alone for a month now, except for the week your mother had come to visit you. You needed a little socialization, especially if you wanted to make friends here.
“Sure, I’ll come”, you agreed, and the smile that lit up Chaeyoung’s face was entirely worth it.
Chaeyoung probably was the colleague that was the closest in age to you, and she also was the one who had tried making you feel the most welcomed ever since you had started working there. The friendliness with which the girl carried herself really made her easily approachable, and you knew you’d be good friends in no time.
Chaeyoung also was the only one that hadn’t acted as if the fact that your mother was a famous actress was a big deal. It had made you appreciate the girl even more.
Later that evening, after drinks, which had mostly been eating more than drinking, you found yourself in a cab on the way back home. The school for which you worked was fairly close to where you lived, but your colleagues had insisted on going to a bar that was farther away, enough for you to dread the walk home. So, getting a cab it had been, and you looked at Seoul’s streets as the car made its way towards your apartment complex.
The radio was on, volume tuned down as the driver hadn’t turned it back up after having asked you where you lived. Yet, the volume was high enough for you to recognize the BTS song that was playing, and you almost felt like rolling your eyes to the back of your head.
Though you refrained from doing so, because it didn’t sit right with you to start hating the whole group just because Jimin was an arrogant piece of shit. Instead, you bobbed along to the music, mouthing the lyrics, as your condominium finally came into view.
You paid the cab as it stopped in front of the building, thanking the driver before getting out and walking the short distance to the gate, and then to the doors proper. You walked in, the bright hall and its high ceilings a stark contrast with the darkness outside, though you barely acknowledged it as you made your way to the elevator.
Mind a little fuzzed up by the alcohol, you called for the elevator, waiting in front of the doors patiently. You grabbed your phone in the tote bag on your shoulder, opening your text messages to reply to the text Chaeyoung had sent you, before switching apps to Instagram, scrolling through it mindlessly.
It took you a few seconds to realize that the elevator was still in the basement. What was taking so long?
The basement held a parking lot, and a wide gym you had visited a couple of times so far, though you had never really been an athletic person. You had been surprised at the amount of famous people you had seen there though, but luckily enough you hadn’t run into Jimin once.
You wondered if he would have looked even more disgusted by the sight of you sweating.
Putting your phone back where you had taken it, you made to move away, deciding that you’d take the stairs instead of the elevator since it really didn’t seem like it was coming. As you were about to take the first step away, you heard it start moving, and you turned back towards it, sighing in relief. You really hadn’t felt like climbing up the nine floors.
Nothing could have really prepared you to the sight that fell upon your eyes when the doors slid open. It was almost a parallel to that first time you had seen Jimin there, though this time Jimin had an arm thrown around the shoulders of Jeong Hoseok, and he was clearly drunk out of his mind.
You stepped in, bowing to Hoseok as your eyes slid to Jimin, and to the not-so subtle stain on the front of his shirt.
From the smell of it, you were pretty sure Jimin had thrown up on himself. And really, the sour stench made you scrunch up your nose in disgust, right as Hoseok apologized for it.
“Oh”, you let out. “It’s okay.”
At the sound of your voice, Jimin opened his eyes, glassy gaze moving to find yours. You expected his features to have that same disgusted scowl he always reserved for you, but his brows fell, as if he was ashamed, or perhaps sad.
It was so human you found you had to look away.
“I didn’t know you speak Korean”, Jimin mumbled, speech definitely slurred by the alcohol.
You froze, not expecting him to talk to you directly, until your gaze slid to him again.
He was still looking at you, but his face was unreadable. Until a lazy smile broke on his lips as he turned towards Hoseok, who had his arm wrapped around Jimin’s waist to keep him up.
“She’s the new neighbor I told you about”, Jimin said, and Hoseok glanced at you.
Jimin had talked about you?
The elevator slowed down as it reached your floor, the deceleration making Jimin stumble forward. Hoseok held onto him, and Jimin once again looked at you.
“Where is your boyfriend?”
The doors slid open as you just looked back at him, feeling completely dumbfounded. What the hell was he talking about?
You remained silent, as Hoseok tried making Jimin walk out of the elevator, but the man stayed stubbornly in place. “Wait, hyung.”
You didn’t wait, walking around Jimin and Hoseok to get out, moving towards your door as your cheeks burned red. You felt way too embarrassed to stay there.
What boyfriend was Jimin talking about?
Jimin followed you, though he would have probably fallen right to the floor had Hoseok not been there. Yet, the two men were slower, and your pace turned even faster as you headed for your home.
“See, that’s what I said, she doesn’t speak”, Jimin continued, and he let out a bitter chuckle. “Army fucking hates us now.”
“Jimin-ah, let’s just get you to bed”, Hoseok gently said, mouthing an apology to you as you turned back to look at them.
Why the hell would Jimin think that Army hated BTS?
“I just fucking hate this”, Jimin spat, pushing Hoseok away.
Your eyes widened, and you quickly moved towards your door, mind still not processing what was going on. Not wanting to witness Jimin in that state either. And as you were pressing in the code to unlock the door, the unmistakable sound of someone retching had you glancing back towards Hoseok and Jimin.
Jimin was folded in half, hand on the wall to keep standing as he was throwing up, right on the carpet of the hallway. The sound made you shiver, but luckily enough you weren’t one to get sick when someone else was.
No, you had always been the mom friend in the friend groups you had had back home. Except when you happened to be the one to black out, as it usually came before throwing up for you.
“I am so sorry about this”, Hoseok apologized once again, right as he stood there, seemingly not knowing what to do anymore.
Indeed, his face had gone a shade paler, and you wondered if he was about to be sick too.
“What’s wrong with him?” you asked, unable to keep the venom from seeping into your words.
No, you rather had a lot of accumulated rage against Jimin, and seeing him like that just made you even angrier. And you didn’t know what your question really was about. It almost was rhetorical – you knew he was drunk – but maybe your mind had gone to the behaviour that had been his since you had met him.
“He drank too much.”
Obviously.
You nodded slowly, nose scrunching up in disgust as the stench reached you. Jimin retched a little more, and you looked away, feeling a little dizzy yourself. You only looked back towards them once Jimin had straightened up.
He was looking at you already when your eyes met his, and you watched as a tear rolled down his cheek, one that he dried angrily before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Fuck”, he let out and your lips stretched into a thin line at the unexpected curse.
“Let’s get you home”, Hoseok said, glancing between Jimin and you. He then added, fixating his eyes on you, “I’ll come back to clean.”
“I can take care of it. Just get him in bed and make sure he drinks some water.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me, you know”, Jimin mumbled, and you weren’t quite sure if the words were directed at you or at Hoseok.
It didn’t really matter though, because Hoseok thanked you, grabbing Jimin by the wrist and pulling him to his door. He pressed in the code, thanking you once again before pulling Jimin inside.
“You know”, Jimin said as he resisted following his friend. “I don’t even know her name.”
Hoseok had a stern voice as he replied, “Jimin-ah, just get in.”
You watched as the door shut behind the two young men, and then your eyes slid to the mess Jimin had caused. You shivered in disgust, not really wanting to be the one to clean that. But you had said you would, so you got into your apartment, moving to find the cleaning supplies you’d need to wash it all, and to make sure it didn’t stain the carpet.
What the hell was wrong with Park Jimin?
You walked back out, aiming for the puddle of vomit that was slowly seeping into the carpet. The smell was enough to make you gag, as you put on gloves and started picking up as much as you could to put it in the plastic bag.
It wasn’t so different than cleaning up after a kid had retched, and you did everything in you not to think about the fact that Park Jimin had been the source of that mess. That you had seen him at a low point, and that he, for one, hadn’t seemed to hate you.
No, he had just looked terribly sad.
Your thoughts traveled back to the words he had uttered, skimming over the fact that he had mentioned you having a boyfriend. Stopping on that fact, in all truth. Had a boy come over to her place while you were gone for him to think that? You doubted it – no stranger could have gone past the security downstairs.
What had he meant, then?
You sighed as you finished picking up most of what hadn’t yet seeped in the carpet, before moving to actually cleaning the whole thing, eyes watering a little from the small gags you weren’t able to keep in.
Also, Jimin had mentioned Army hating them. You assumed he had meant BTS, but why the hell would he think that Army hated BTS now? Maybe it was because you had indulged into alcohol a little too, but it took a moment for your brain to formulate an answer.
The hiatus, or whatever that break could really be called. The video had come out a few weeks ago, a couple of days after you had moved in… Did Jimin really think that Army hated them for that?
You scoffed, because really he was annoying and you couldn’t help yourself. Even as you were starting to understand him, to understand the human being behind the idol, though you didn’t really know him all that much yet. One thing was for sure: understanding him didn’t justify his actions, especially considering you had never done anything to piss him off.
Unless the fact that you were Army was enough to piss him off indeed. Which came as a surprise to you, because Jimin had the reputation to be easy of approach. Clearly, people had been wrong about him, or it really was just you he hated.
It made you stop cleaning the mess, as the thought slowly formed in your head, rendering you far too sad to be cleaning.
The door to Jimin’s apartment opened, and you turned your head towards it, half-expecting Jimin to step out and be the arrogant prick you had gotten to know in the last few weeks. Instead, Hoseok stepped out, and he pressed his lips into a thin line as your eyes met.
“You really didn’t have to clean, I could have taken care of it”, he said, eyes looking over his shoulder as he shut the door behind him gently.
You sat back on your heels, glancing at the wet spot on the carpet. “It’s okay, it’s not all different from cleaning after the kids I teach to.”
Hoseok had a friendly smile playing on his lips when you looked back at him.
Looking the perfect picture of the person he projected in videos and pictures. Being exactly what you had first expected Jimin to be like.
“Well, it’s very nice of you”, he added. His gaze trailed to the plastic bag next to you. “I’ll bring that in the trash downstairs.”
The corner of your lips spread into a hesitant smile. “Thank you.”
He shrugged his shoulders, before once again glancing at Jimin’s door. “I’m sorry about him, by the way.”
You wet your lips, your eyes once again going to the mess. Or rather to what was left of it. “What’s wrong with him?” you reiterated your previous question, finding you didn’t have the courage to look at Hoseok for his reply.
Though he remained silent for a moment, and you wondered if he was debating telling you the truth. And maybe he only chose to be honest because you were currently cleaning his friend’s mess, something you really didn’t have to do after all.
“He’s been having a couple of rough weeks”, Hoseok admitted, then added quickly as if afraid you’d think Jimin was indulging a little too much, “The alcohol doesn’t really have something to do with it though.”
You found you couldn’t stop the bitter chuckle that fell from your lips. It was a small awkward sound, and you wondered if Hoseok could see you blushing.
For god’s sake, were you actually talking to Hobi?
Hoseok seemed taken aback by your chuckle, maybe not expecting it from someone Jimin had said to be Army. He buried his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet a little, as if he too was feeling a little awkward.
“I’m sorry he’s not been doing great”, you eventually chose to say, as the silence had started stretching to the point of discomfort. “I…” you trailed off, not really knowing what to add.
“Oh, he’ll get over it soon”, Hoseok said, the certainty in his voice so clear it made you want to believe it.
Yet a part of you wasn’t able to believe it at all.
“I hope so”, you muttered, more to yourself than to him.
Because perhaps normal Park Jimin wouldn’t be such a shit neighbor.
There was another silence, during which you busied yourself by finishing cleaning up, before throwing away everything in the plastic bag and tying it up. You pushed up to your feet, fully conscious that Hoseok was watching you carefully, as if expecting you to say more. And though he was a lot easier to talk to than your neighbor, you had nothing else to say about Jimin.
You exchanged an awkward look, and you scraped your throat, gaze dropping to the floor. “I… really like your new song”, you finally said. “The grunge vibe is really great.”
Hoseok was beaming once you met his gaze again. “See, I told him you didn’t hate us.”
You blushed a little. “Oh?”
“Well.” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “He mentioned you are a fan, and all.”
“He thinks I hate you?” There was genuine surprise in your voice.
“He is convinced Army in general does, yeah.”
There was another silence, one that felt quite a lot heavier.
“He is not taking that whole break thing well, is he?”
Hoseok’s face fell serious, his eyes unreadable. “He’s the one that’s taking it the hardest, let’s say.”
So, you had been right about it. And that small part of you that didn’t already dislike Jimin seemed to swell a little, pushing the negative emotions back.
“I’m sorry”, you said, unsure what you were apologizing for, and the negative emotions swerved back in.
You were sorry for what, exactly? For being Army, and the very cause of Jimin’s guilt? Or for not really feeling sorry for him at all? Because even if you knew that he was not doing great, most of you was still angered at the thought of him. At the perspective that he’d wake you up in the middle of the night again in the next few days, and that he’d look down on you like you were just a mere speck of dust.
Feeling guilty for taking a break didn’t really give him the right to be an asshole. And maybe you were a bad person for being unable to really feel bad for him, but at least you were honest to yourself about it.
Hoseok didn’t really speak to you much after that, as if sensing your discomfort. He instead wished you good night, grabbing the plastic bag from where you had left it. You didn’t move back to your apartment right away, eyes lost in a vague spot on the wall, and Hoseok’s voice had you looking towards where he was standing, waiting for the elevator to come.
“Don’t be too harsh on him”, he said. “And don’t take it personally, if he’s acting weird around you.”
Your pursed your lips. “Easier said than done.”
“I know…” Hoseok looked down at his feet, laughing lightly. “I know”, he repeated. “He’ll come around.”
“What makes you so sure of it?” you asked.
He had a knowing smile on his lips when he gazed back at you, right as the elevator dinged behind him. “Because he asked for your name until he passed out in his bed.”
***
The summer air was heavy with humidity as you walked back to your apartment, grocery bags in hand. The dark clouds up ahead promised of rainfall and storm, though for now the cement of the road was completely dry, and it almost still seemed as if it was fuming with heat, creating a mirage in the distance like one would see in the desert. Cars drove slowly in the street, as if their tires were melting, sticking to the ground and keeping them from moving at their normal pace, and really, the heat felt as if it was pressing down on everyone and everything. The worst part was that it only seemed to be getting worse by the second.
You couldn’t wait for the rain to fall, releasing the atmosphere of the heaviness that clung to it. You just hoped you’d be back home by then.
You hurried, because you didn’t really want to risk being stuck in the rain, but it seemed the universe had other plans for you. The clouds opened up as you could see your condominium in the distance, showering you so thoroughly that by the time you reached the door, you were drenched from your toes to the top of your head.
Maybe you should have gone to the grocery store in the complex. But you had been avoiding it since the end of last week, afraid you’d run into Jimin.
You hadn’t seen him since Friday night. He hadn’t given any signs of life either, his apartment remaining dead silent, to your dismay. Or maybe he had just been so hungover it was taking him a few days to recover. From the state that he had been in, you wouldn’t have been surprised.
Dripping water on the marble floor of the hall, you walked towards the elevator, bowing to the security. The man bowed to you too, but he remained silent. You knew he greeted most of everyone else, but you didn’t really mind.
You were a foreigner after all.
Hoseok’s words had turned in your head, ever since he had said them, right before he had left. You didn’t really know what to make of it. Jimin had been asking for your name… Part of you didn’t want it to mean anything, because really you didn’t want to think that the Park Jimin had an interest in you, even if it was just about knowing your name. Though the other part, the smaller anxious part of you that felt sorry for him… it wanted to know if his curiosity was about more than just knowing your name. You knew it was the remnants of the fan in you speaking, but sometimes, when you didn’t really pay attention, that part of you became louder, threatening to blossom into a flower that’d throw a shadow on the resentment you wanted to keep towards him.
You didn’t even know why you wanted to hold on to that resentment. Perhaps it was just your way of protecting yourself from him, because God knew that Park Jimin was dangerous. Beautiful, yes, but the same kind of beautiful a poisonous plant was made of, luxurious with life but able to end you all the same.
The doors to the elevator slid open, and you were relieved to see that it was fully empty. You walked in, pressing on your floor before standing to the side, eyes falling to the coffee stain on the carpet. Your thoughts provided you with an image you didn’t want to picture – Jimin, bending over to throw up in that spot.
Had he been the source of the stain on the carpet, as he had been close to stain the carpet next to your apartments? You shuddered at the thought and focused on the numbers changing over the elevator door as you went up to the very last level, trying to shake the image out of your mind.
The elevator decelerated, and the doors slid open slowly. You were about to walk out when you noticed the figure standing there.
Of course Jimin had to be there when you were drenched in rain water.
You exchanged a long look, or it just felt like an eternity because you were gazing into the eyes of Park Jimin. His face held no expression whatsoever, as if he was too tired to even muster up the usual scowl he reserved for you. And really, he did look tired, dark circles under his eyes indicating that he probably hadn’t slept much in the last two days.
Or maybe the hangover was just taking its toll on him.
The moment stretched, and you found you had to look away. Your gaze dropped to the floor, and you were about to say something – what you didn’t know – when the doors started closing, and Jimin held up an arm to keep them from doing so.
“You might want to get out before I go in”, he said, and his voice was lazily arrogant, as if he wanted for it to be cocky but exhaustion kept it from reaching its attended goal.
You rolled your eyes, nodding before taking a step forward. He was standing in the middle of the way, and your whole body started burning as you realized you had stepped closer to him. You only then looked up, meeting his empty gaze. He looked as if he was clenching his jaw, and that, more than anything, made you see red.
“You might want to get out of my way”, you said, your voice colder than his had been. Not arrogant, but maybe a little condescending.
Scratch that, it had been fully condescending.
It seemed to catch him off guard, because his eyes slightly widened and he blinked once, slowly.
“So, you finally talk”, he said, and there was the ghost of a smirk on his lips.
Not the kind of smirk that might make you feel warm and fluffy inside. It rather only fueled your anger.
“I talked on Friday too, but maybe you were too fucked out to realize?” Your words were coated in honey, the poisonous kind, and you wondered where you had found the courage to speak to him like that.
Especially as his arm was still outstretched, and it almost felt as if you were frozen in place, a statue of that moment before a hug.
“Oh no, I do remember.” He smirked full on, then, and it made his eyes seem cold in some way.
Cold and sad.
“Weren’t you the one to clean up after me?” he asked, tilting his head by a few degrees to the side.
“I didn’t want the hallway to smell like you did”, you said, shrugging your shoulders. “It had nothing to do with you.”
A chuckle fell from his lips. “It rather felt as if you were eager to have a role to play in my life.”
Your mouth fell open, but you had nothing to say to that.
“Is that why you moved next door too?” he asked, and he sounded so full of himself you wanted to slap him.
Unfortunately, your courage was running out, and red flushed your cheeks.
“I didn’t know you lived next door until the day I moved in”, you admitted, and your voice didn’t sound half as confident as it did a moment earlier.
That seemed to take him aback. “Your boyfriend didn’t tell you?”
There he was again with the boyfriend thing.
“What boyfriend are you talking about?” you enquired, glancing to your right as he let his arm fall.
He cocked an eyebrow, letting out a bitter chuckle. “The one I met when you visited the apartment a few months ago?”
Of all the things you had expected him to say, admitting that he had met Collin wasn’t one of those. Why had your ex never told you?
“You met Collin?”
It was a rhetorical and useless question, but your lips had formulated it before you had been able to stop it. And Jimin didn’t answer it, as if he too knew that it was rhetorical.
“He decided to stay back home”, you admitted, hating that you were giving Jimin this tiny piece of information about you. Because it made your heart ache a little at the thought that you could have been building a life for yourself back home, if you hadn’t chosen to move to the other side of the globe.
“Is that code word for saying he dumped you?”
Jimin’s voice had taken on an even icier tone, so far away from the friendliness his idol self projected whenever he was on camera. It hurt some deep part of you, that stupid tiny part that still wanted to believe he wasn’t a total prick.
“It was a mutual decision”, you muttered, looking down at the floor.
He stayed silent, right as you started blinking away tears. You would be damned if one of them slipped on your cheek when Jimin was standing right there in front of you.
“Isn’t that what we all say when we get dumped?” he asked, and surprisingly his tone held nothing of the bite it did before. He just sounded tired, in a genuine kind of way that made him seem terribly human.
It made you look up to meet his gaze, yet you remained silent. You had no words to say to that, no clever turn of phrase, because you didn’t want to lie to his face, had always hated lying, and you didn’t want to tell him he was right either. You didn’t think you’d be able to stand the vulnerability the truth held.
He already had enough power over you.
“Anyway”, he said once the silence had stretched for a few more seconds. His lips pressed in a thin line, and your eyes dropped to his mouth. “I’m sorry about Friday.”
The last thing you had expected him to do was apologize, and you just looked at him for a moment, completely baffled. And right when awkwardness filled the air, you shrugged your shoulders.
“It’s whatever, I would have done it for anyone.”
A weak attempt at trying to regain the advantage in the conversation, though it seemed to fail miserably.
He stepped aside, to finally let you pass, and you started moving, almost gulping as you felt the heaviness of his gaze on your profile. Once you had walked a few feet down the hallway, you glanced over your shoulder, that foolish part of you that wanted to believe he wasn’t all bad winning over your rationality.
He was still looking at you, and your breath caught in your throat.
“You never told me your name”, Jimin said, voice so low you would have thought he hadn’t spoken hadn’t you seen his lips move.
“Why do you want to know?” you asked.
He looked down, eyes seeming to get lost into a void, a void you could tell was haunting his mind.
“Never mind”, he said.
You felt bad, for a moment, as you watched him get into the elevator.
The foolish part of you won.
“Y/n”, you said, right as the doors started closing.
He met your gaze, eyes a little round, as if startled you had given in to him. Though he didn’t have time to speak before the doors fully shut, completely hiding him from your view.
***
The week passed in a blur, and you didn’t get to see Jimin again, except once in the distance at the grocery store of the condominium. He had locked gaze with you, bowed his head a little and then he had disappeared from view, and you hadn’t really searched for him.
The fact he had acknowledged you existed didn’t have to mean anything at all.
Friday night came, and you found yourself accepting Chaeyoung’s invite to go clubbing, the young woman’s enthusiasm making you feel a little more extroverted than you usually were.
As a matter of fact, you had avoided clubs like the plague back home, but maybe that was just because your mom was famous, and people tended to recognize you too. Here, you had found that even though lots of people were aware of your mom’s existence, few were those that connected the dots between you two. So, you were willing to risk it and go out, because at 24 you had still never stepped foot in a club.
Chaeyoung came over at your place to get ready, and you were unsure why you had suggested it. Realized it probably had been a mistake once you remembered that Chaeyoung had no idea how rich you were.
Indeed, the girl’s eyes had been wide ever since you had gotten home, and she avoided touching something as if scared she’d break it.
“You can sit, you know”, you said, as you were yourself sat in front of one of the vanities in your dressing room.
Chaeyoung let out a nervous chuckle. “Why didn’t you mention you live in Nine One before?” she blurted, and you knew the question had been on the girl’s lips for a while now.
You shrugged. “It didn’t seem like it mattered all that much”, you replied. You met Chaeyoung’s eyes in the mirror. “Sorry.”
Chaeyoung laughed lightly, a pretty sound that resembled a melody of some sort. “No need to apologize, I’m just jealous.” She winked at you in the mirror, and you giggled along with her.
It was crazy that you had become friends after only two weeks of knowing each other. Before you could reply, your phone started ringing, and your gaze fell to it.
You felt as if your blood had turned to ice in your veins as you saw Collin’s name on the lit-up screen. It still had the heart emoji you had put next to it, back when you were together. Strangely enough, you hadn’t found the strength to put it away yet.
“Who’s that?” Chaeyoung enquired with a gentle voice, as if sensing your uneasiness.
There was no point in beating around the bush, so you replied, “My ex.”
Chaeyoung pursed her lips, nostrils flaring as if she was disgusted. “Ew.”
It made you laugh just a little, but you weren’t quite sure the joy of it had reached your eyes.
Why the hell would Collin be calling you? Wasn’t it the middle of the night back where you had come from?
“I… will take this”, you said, hesitant.
Chaeyoung nodded, looking away from you and the ringing device. “As long as you spill the tea after.”
You stifled a laugh, a real one this time, before grabbing your phone. You accepted the call, bringing the device to your ear as you got up to walk away, needing a little privacy for the conversation, whatever it might hold.
Collin’s tired voice on the other side of the line had your heart aching dully in your chest.
“Hey”, he said.
A simple word, but it was an echo of the word that had started your whole relationship. A small hey from the cute boy at the coffee shop, when you had just been seventeen and too young to see the danger in his eyes.
Or maybe you had been the dangerous one, with your dreams of leaving the country and never looking back.
“What’s up?” you asked, feeling slightly strange at having to speak English. You hadn’t spoken English since you had talked to your parents the weekend before.
You were adjusting to the Korean life far more than you had first thought you were.
“I…” Collin trailed off, and there was a silence that had you wonder what he might be thinking about.
That had you wonder what his next words might hold, and that had you beating yourself up for the hope that seeped into your mind.
“I have something to confess”, he finally finished, and this time he didn’t wait before continuing. “I’m dating someone new, and she… she’s giving birth right now.”
You were standing in the middle of the hallway leading to your bedroom, left foot in the middle of the air, but you froze in the middle of your step.
For one, you hadn’t known Collin was dating someone new, and for second… she was giving birth?
It was such a strange situation that your heart forgot to ache, as you put your foot down next to the other.
“What?” you said, letting out a nervous chuckle.
“We were together for a long time, so I wanted you to hear it from me.”
His words were filled with an information you couldn’t quite grasp. As if he was telling you something you already knew, but couldn’t grasp the meaning of. It was like listening to someone speaking another language. Knowing that the sounds they were sewing together had a meaning, but the meaning was just a little out of reach.
“You wanted to tell me your new girlfriend is giving birth?” you asked, and your voice was filled with laughter. The maniacal kind, the one that you usually let out when you were deeply hurt.
Yet there was no pain in you, only astonishment.
“Everything indicates that I’m the father, Y/n”, Collin admitted, with the gentlest voice, as if he was comforting a small hurt child.
It was like the world had stopped turning, only to start going backwards. Like crashing into a brick wall going eighty miles per hour, and looking at the aftermath, at the mess left behind that wasn’t quite human anymore.
It was horrifying, really. Because it meant so much, so much so that your brain didn’t want to understand. Maybe to try to preserve you from destruction, because it promised to be too grand, like the final scene of a horror movie, filled with gore and fear and despair.
“We broke up two months ago”, was what your brain could come up with.
Refusing to do the maths just yet, just trying to ease your body into the truth slowly, gently.
“I know”, Collin let out, and he sounded sad. Sad and guilty and everything in between. “It happened last October.”
Your memory was empty of all the souvenirs it had once held, as you tried to reach for what had happened in October.
“You remember when you told me that you were actually going to move to Korea?” Collin asked, and there was a strain to his voice, one you recognized all too well.
He had spoken the same way when his father had died, and you had held his sobbing form until the early hours of the morning, until he had fallen asleep from the exhaustion of his grief.
“It killed me, and I saw Harper and… it just happened”, he continued.
You let out a bitter chuckle, now, as the first emotion to rise from the hole in your chest surprisingly was anger. The kind of anger only a wounded soul could come up with.
“Just happened?” you repeated. “What, you walked in and your dick fell into her pussy?”
Harper had always been a source of conflict, in your whole relationship. She had been his childhood best friend, but she had been soon-to-be married for almost two years now, the wedding date having been pushed back twice because of the pandemic.
Clearly, your relationship hadn’t been the only one to die on the shore of your dreams to move to Korea, if Harper was now dating Collin.
Collin stayed silent and really, maybe you didn’t have anything to tell each other anymore. But the anger inside of you wasn’t quite done yet.
“That’s why you chose to stay, didn’t you?” you asked. “Because you put a baby in her belly, and she offered you what you’ve always wanted.”
Collin sniffled on the other side of the line. “I wanted that with you, you know. Until you decided to leave. What was I supposed to do, come with you?”
You full-on laughed this time, but there was no happiness behind the sound at all. Just a whole abyss you were afraid you’d fall into if you gazed at it for too long. “Yes, like we had planned. We even got an apartment together, remember?”
Collin echoed your own laugh with a chuckle, something between choking and scoffing. “That apartment was never mine, you signed the papers and didn’t even ask me to sign too.”
He was right. And for all you had known back then, not wanting to have him on the papers had been a good decision. You had been right, as if your past self had known about the chaos that was to come.
“Listen, thank you for telling me, Collin, but I have a friend that’s waiting for me and I really don’t have anything to say to you”, you said, voice coated in ice.
You hoped you could shape the ice into a dagger, and stab it into his heart.
“Y/n, I just wanted you to learn from me, I assumed…”
You hung up. Hung up on him and on the whole relationship you had shared, as if it had never mattered. And maybe that was it. Maybe he never should have mattered at all, because you were bound to part ways anyway.
He was bound to be a lesson in your life, as you had been bound to emigrate to Korea. Call it faith or whatever.
***
Learning that your ex-boyfriend of six years and a half cheated on you proved to be quite a motivation to get plastered, even if Chaeyoung seemed concerned at first. A few shots of tequila in, the girl loosened up, and she stopped seeing the darkness in your eyes. Or so you hoped, because you didn’t want to have to face it just yet.
You wanted to surf the crescent of the wave until the last moment possible, when it pummeled into you and swallowed you whole. You weren’t quite sure you’d ever really get out of it if you allowed yourself to feel the emotions that you could glimpse at, down that black hole where your heart used to be.
So, it was in that state of mind that you partied, drinking until your mind went numb, and then some more until your body went numb too and all you could feel was the sway of the booming music in the club.
There were no thoughts in your head, just the music and the alcohol, and for now, it was all you needed. You knew you’d come to face the emotions one day, but not today.
Today you’d party and celebrate until the night ended. And you did just that, even when Chaeyoung started showing signs of exhaustion, and started mentioning going home. Even when Chaeyoung called a taxi, and you tried to down a few more shots before the car would come.
You only stopped when your friend forced you into the taxi, gave the address to the driver and told you to call her if you needed her. As much as you would have wanted for her to stay with you, Chaeyoung had her mother to take care of back home, from what she had already told you. So, you drunkenly waved at your friend from the taxi’s window, and when she disappeared out of sight, you let the darkness engulfed you.
The taxi driver did the polite thing and let you cry in peace, though the tears mostly rolled down your cheeks silently. The pain in your chest was far too grand for the kind that’d shake your body with sobs. As if all your muscles were too exhausted, and only the tears seemed to be able to well up in your eyes.
It was surprising, how little you cried. And you stopped crying, even before you got to the condominium. No, your eyes were dry as the desert as you reached home, and you didn’t even know how you managed to pay the driver before getting out and stumbling to the doors.
You didn’t know either how you managed to get to the elevator that led to your floor, the one where you had met Park Jimin. And you cursed loudly, in English, once you saw that the elevator was out.
This night couldn’t get any worse.
You dragged your feet towards the staircase, head turning so much you were afraid you’d be sick. It made you think of Jimin, who had been just like you a week ago. That made you giggle, in that silly kind of way only alcohol could muster out of someone, and you stumbled a little as you reached the door to the staircase. You pushed it open, quite a lot more forcefully than you needed to, and this time you flew, feet not touching the ground until you fell, hands coming in front of your face at the last moment.
You laughed again then, because you were way too inebriated to feel anything. You scrambled up to your feet, swaying a little more than you had before, head spinning faster and faster for each second that passed.
You started the trek up to your floor, not really feeling how your heart beat loudly from the exhaustion. No, the alcohol was numbing that too and really, you’d give anything to stay in that state of bliss that accompanied the intoxication.
You surprisingly reached the ninth floor without another incident, and you pushed open the door that led to your hallway, before stumbling towards the door of your home, hands searching your purse for your keys.
There was no chance in hell your drunk mind would remember the passcode you had to dial to get in.
With a successful little “there you go!”, you fished out your keys, right as you reached your door. You fumbled with the keys for a moment, as you tried to get them into the keyhole. It took you quite a few attempts, and it led to you giggling a little again.
It seemed the ride home had made you a lot drunker than you had been back at the club.
You finally managed to steady your hand enough to get the key in, resting your head against the door. The key seemed to get stuck, and you let out a curse under your breath, as you tried turning it in the lock.
The lock didn’t budge. However, the door did, and you stumbled forward. Your fall was cut short by hands on your shoulders, that held you up just for a moment until you found footing again.
It took you a moment to look up, mind miles away from the man standing in front of you.
“What are you doing?” Jimin asked.
You furrowed your brows. “What are you doing in my apartment?”
Jimin cocked an eyebrow. “Your apartment was on the other side of the hallway, last I checked.” He glanced over your head. “Still is.”
You shut your eyes, as everything seemed to be moving. Even Jimin’s eyes didn’t seem to be stable in his face.
“The elevator was out”, you said as an explanation. You cracked an eye open, only to see the scowl on Jimin’s face.
The one you had started to hate more and more every day, until you loathed it. So much so that just the sight of it had anger flaring up in your chest. You had no inhibition left to refrain from telling him to go fuck himself after all.
“Do you know”, you started, a hiccup interrupting your words. “Do you know how disappointing it is to meet your favourite idol and have them be a dick to you?”
Jimin remained silent, but the expression died on his face, right as he glanced down at your keys, that had somehow stayed in your hands during the whole ordeal.
You had gotten rid of the Chimmy keychain the day before you had started working at the elementary school, and it clearly didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“I had always dreamed of meeting you someday. Of meeting BTS”, you continued, shutting your eyes again, willing the world to stop turning so fast around your head. “Hobi was fine but you, Park Jimin, are a fucking asshole.”
He still didn’t say anything, right as you started feeling your insides churning.
Of course you were going to be sick right after having told him your truth.
And maybe you blacked out for a moment because next thing you remembered was being huddled over a toilet, retching everything you had drunk that night – well, what you hadn’t absorbed yet. It set your throat on fire, and cold beads of sweat rolled down your temples, along with tears, those tears that always came with throwing up.
And then there was another blank space between this moment and the next, and your mind focused back in as someone was gently wiping your face with a cool cloth. You startled back, arms rising up in front of you, in a poor attempt of defense.
“What’s going on?” you asked, and tears stung at your eyes again.
“I’m just taking your make-up off”, Jimin said, hands raised to show he was not a threat. “You can finish doing it if you want.”
You started crying then, for real. It was the last thing you remembered that night, and everything went black.
***
You had never thought your head could possibly hurt that much. Yet it pounded with a terrible headache as you slowly woke up, body feeling all too warm for your own good. And then the dehydration hit, and you cracked an eye open, trying to find something you could drink.
There was a glass of water next to your head, on a night table, and you grabbed it, downing it as if you had been parched for years. You then rested your head back on the pillow, sighing at the soft silk of it, and you dozed off.
You couldn’t tell how much longer you had slept. Once you woke up again, the headache had lessened a bit, but it was still throbbing at your temples. You knew you’d need a full day to recover from the amount of alcohol you had ingested last night. Maybe even the whole weekend.
That thought led you to another, far more painful one. Collin and his girlfriend. And his baby, and the fact that he had cheated on you, and hid it from you for months.
You sighed, heavily and maybe a little shakily too, as your heart hurt in your chest. Somehow, the tears didn’t come though, and you managed to open your eyes.
It took a moment for your gaze to adjust to the scene surrounding you. A little eternity, even. Or maybe it just wasn’t adjusting because of the unfamiliar scene.
You blinked a few times, willing your bedroom to appear to your vision, but the dark sheets stayed the same, along with the mounted TV on the wall in front of you. You only then pushed yourself up, sitting in the bed as you scanned your surroundings.
You definitely weren’t in your bedroom. Neither were you in your apartment. There were discarded items of clothing on the floor – a black pair of jeans at the foot of the mattress, two t-shirts by the window, under the dark curtains, and enough lonely socks to form a whole army of them. It was the picture on top of the dresser whose middle drawer was pulled open that caught your gaze the most though.
All the BTS members smiled at you from their spot on the dresser, looking like a little family. It was a polaroid picture, and really it was far enough for you to wonder how you’d managed to be able to tell that those were the BTS members. Then again, you had been a fan of them for years now, and could recognize them from their shadows, so maybe being able to recognize their familiar traits in the distance wasn’t too far fetched.
Your mind went blank, as you tried to remember the events of last night. All you could remember was waving goodbye to Chaeyoung, before the taxi had driven you home.
Well, clearly it hadn’t quite driven you home, because this was not your room at all.
You looked down at yourself, and at the black sheet that was pooling around your waist. You were wearing an oversized purple sweater, one you had only seen behind the screen of your phone before.
How the fuck had you managed to get to Jimin’s bedroom? And more importantly, why were you dressed in his clothes?
You pulled the sheets off from you, sighing in relief as you noticed you were wearing joggers. Then the sudden realization that he had probably been the one to change you into those clothes had your heart stopping in your chest, and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Knowing how you were when you usually blacked out with alcohol, there wasn’t a high chance you had been the one to change your clothes.
You looked around, only then noticing the folded clothes next to the BTS picture on the dresser. You recognized the colors from the outfit you had been wearing the night before, and you got up from the bed, stepping around the mattress to get to your clothes.
You couldn’t help but take a good look at the picture, heart filling with endearment at how adorable it was. At how happy they all looked, frozen into eternity in that little square of memory. From the looks of it, the picture had been taken on a camping trip, and it made you smile a little to think that they had gone on camping trips together, without ever sharing those to the public.
You wondered how much they had done without sharing it to the public too. It was like realizing that all of them were complete human beings, and that they weren’t confined to the screen of your phone. It had been a thing to know it before, but you were now fully realizing it. They all had their own lives, with ups and downs like every other person on the surface of the planet.
It made their hiatus – it wasn’t really a break though, wasn’t it? – all the more understandable.
With one last look at the picture, you grabbed your clothes. The door of the bedroom was shut, and you contemplated getting changed right there because there was no way you’d bring Jimin’s clothes into your own home. You weren’t quite sure you wanted your life to be mixed with his in such a personal way.
Excluding the fact that you had slept in his bed, that is.
You changed out of his clothes and into your own, wincing a little at the smell of spilled alcohol on your top. It made your stomach churn, but it was completely empty, and it saved you the embarrassment of throwing up in the middle of his bedroom.
Though you had a sudden flashback of throwing up the night before. You doubted you had been at home, if you had ended up in his room after all.
Your purse laid on the dresser too, and you grabbed it, looking through its contents to make sure everything was in there. Your cards and keys were there, and so was your phone, though it was dead and had probably been for a while now.
Once you had made sure you had collected all your belongings, you walked towards the door, taking a deep sigh before reaching for the knob. You turned it gently, trying not to make any noise. Before getting out, you threw one last look at the purple sweater you had been wearing, longing for the feeling of its soft fabric on your skin. You pushed the thought away, and then tiptoed soundlessly out of the room, or as silently as your hungover self could manage.
It proved to be useless, because Jimin’s apartment was shaped like yours, and the hallway outside of his bedroom led you to the living room, where he was currently sprawled on the couch, playing some videogame.
He paused it as soon as you came into view, eyes sweeping over your figure once before meeting yours.
“How did you sleep?” he asked, and he sounded genuine.
You had no idea what you looked like, but from how you felt you knew you probably looked like hell.
“Good”, you replied, feeling awkward standing there. “Did you…” you trailed off, glancing at the couch, and at the blanket and pillow that were resting on one side of it. “You slept on the couch?”
He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yes.”
There was a long silence as you scanned his apartment, surprised to see just how alike it was to yours. Though Jimin’s furniture was mostly darker than yours, except for the couch, which was in a lighter shade of gray. It felt like you had stepped into an alternate universe to the one you usually lived in.
“What happened last night?” you then asked, because visibly he was the only one who could answer that question, as your memories were still failing you.
He pursed his lips in an apologetic expression that had a hint of a smile in there. “You were pretty wasted.”
You nodded, pulling at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “Yeah, I mean… apart from that?”
He smiled a little then, and you watched it as if it was alien on his features. “You tried unlocking my door and when I opened you called me an asshole. And then you got sick”, he said that motioning in the general direction of the front door, “so I pulled you to the bathroom.”
As he spoke, you had tiny little flashes from last night – just images your eyes remembered they had seen, but it was a silent track, and you winced as he recalled the events of last night.
And really there had been more than you had thought. Apparently, you had thrown up for a while, then asked for food, then thrown up some more. Once you had started passing out on the couch, he had taken your make-up off, which had woken you up. You had then started crying, and told him everything about Collin, and you had fallen asleep on the couch, before he had carried you to his room. He admitted he had been the one to change you – promising he hadn’t looked though, right as his cheeks turned pink – and it made you want to disappear through the floor.
Park Jimin had seen you almost entirely naked. Most of all, Park Jimin had taken care of you when you had been so drunk you barely could pass as a human being. You didn’t know what to make of that.
“I am so sorry for all that”, you apologized when he was done, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.
He laughed again then, and his lips broke into a grin. That smile sent your mind into a frenzy your hangover self couldn’t deal with.
“It’s okay”, he reassured you. “You clearly needed someone, I’m glad I could be there for you.”
His smile died down as he said the last words, and your gaze dropped to the ground, eyes following the lines in the hardwood floor.
“I’m sorry for calling you an asshole”, you added.
You saw him shrug from the corner of your eyes. “I honestly think it was well-deserved.”
That made you chuckle a little, and you looked up, though you didn’t find any reply to that. You exchanged an awkward look, until Jimin motioned towards the kitchen.
“I got hangover soup for you, if you want to eat that before heading home.”
There was an invitation behind those words. Maybe even a truce, to the hostility that you had shared ever since you’d met. And really, the Jimin in front of you right now was nothing like the one you had come to know in the last month. He rather was the idol you had admired all those years, and you didn’t know what had caused the switch. Though you weren’t stupid, and you were pretty sure your vulnerability had made him feel guilty, and maybe that was his way of apologizing. He had even admitted to being in the wrong, hadn’t he?
Perhaps that was the reason why you found yourself saying yes.
***
Eating proved to help ease the throbbing in your head, as did the ibuprofen Jimin had gotten for you. He had also made you drink plenty of water, as you had conversed about the weather and your work, both avoiding the subject of last night.
You were still very much so embarrassed, and you’d rather pretend it had never happened.
Jimin made it easier, as he was being quite friendlier than you had ever seen him – in person, that is – and it healed some part of the fan in you that had been hurt repeatedly by his actions, whether you had wanted to admit it to yourself or not.
Talking to him also helped ease the pain you had felt the night before, the thought of Collin somehow infrequent when Jimin was looking at you, listening to what you had to say.
There was a shadow, in Jimin’s eyes. That no amount of smiling and laughing could chase away. Every time you’d see the cloud pass in his gaze, you’d be reminded of just how human he was. How real he was. As if you’d always seen him as some sort of god, and were just now realizing that he was just like you.
A little more famous, yes, but just like anyone else.
It was a thought that hit you in the chest, whenever you thought about it. And you had thought about it quite a couple of times since you had met Jimin that first time, but mostly in the last week or two. Ever since you had seen him so drunk he had looked like he was going to die.
Maybe he had been feeling that way too. And now, he had seen you at your lowest too, and your heart warmed a little in your chest each time you remembered that he had taken care of you. He could have easily brought you back home – it wasn’t like the walk was a long one – but he had instead taken care of you. Listened to what drunk you had had to say, and comforted you, apparently. Not that you really could recall the events of last night, but you sometimes did have flashes of his eyes holding yours, with a soft expression that made you wonder about who that Jimin was.
Because he wasn’t the same as the one you’d gotten to know ever since moving to Korea, and neither was he the one that was sitting in front of you right now, talking about things that didn’t really matter, trivial conversation aimed to fill a silence that threatened to fall into awkwardness the moment you stopped talking.
After all, it wasn’t like you were friends. Neighbors, yes, who had both seen the other at their lowest, but just neighbors, nonetheless. He made it easy, though. He made talking easy, in a way you couldn’t quite understand yet. And you weren’t quite sure you’d grasp the meaning of it someday, but you were glad for it.
God knew how awkward you could get when you were in an uncomfortable situation.
“Thank you, for last night”, you said as he walked you to his door once you were done eating.
“No problem”, he replied, flashing a grin at you.
It didn’t quite exactly reach his eyes, but you liked to tell yourself it did.
“I’ll try not doing something like that again”, you added, cheeks flushing red as your eyes dropped to the floor.
He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “Really, I didn’t mind. It was great to hang out with you, even if you were drunk.”
The blush on your cheeks deepened. Park Jimin, saying it had been great to hang out with you? Surely you were just stuck in a dream. One hell of a good dream, but a dream nonetheless.
“Well, I’m probably more fun when I’m sober and…” you trailed off, as your thoughts produced their first image of Collin ever since you had started eating that hangover soup – who knew hangover soup was so good?
Jimin had a gentle smile on his lips once you met his gaze again. “We all have our lows. After you cleaning up after me last week, it was the least I could do.”
The corners of your lips itched to stretch into a smile, and your heart started racing in your chest as he glanced at your lips. “Well”, you let out, gulping.
His smile turned into a knowing smirk as his eyes fell to the ground. Who had thought you’d get a tiny taste of the flirty Park Jimin on that hangover Saturday morning? Because clearly that smirk meant nothing good.
“I’ll let you head home”, he said after a moment, eyes moving back up to your face.
You almost startled as you noticed the shadows had cleared up, and his eyes were lit up with a spark of mischief.
You nodded, glancing at the door. You didn’t move, and Jimin cocked an eyebrow, hands burrowing in the pockets of his dark sweater.
“I…” you started, then your heart stuttered in your chest so bad you thought you were going to have an anxiety attack.
You took a deep breath, right as he scanned your features curiously. And then you decided to hell with your anxiety, and you formulated the question that was on your mind.
Jimin just looked at you, unblinkingly, right as the clouds moved back in his eyes.
“I don’t think we should”, he replied, before adding quickly, “Not that you’re not fun to be around. I just… I don’t think you want to be around me right now.”
There it was. A little piece of the truth that made Jimin who he was. You took it gently, tucking it in a safe corner of your mind.
“The least I can do to repay you for last night is cook some meal for you”, you said, shrugging.
Your heart was still beating out of your chest, but now that the invitation was out there, you felt as if you were relieved of the weight that was pressing down on you, weight brought on by your embarrassment about last night.
He held your gaze for a moment, before nodding curtly. “Okay.” He wet his lips, sighing once. “I’ll think about it. If you want, we can exchange phone numbers, and I’ll let you know?”
You nodded, taking a deep breath to ease the wild beats of your heart. “My phone is dead, but…”
He had his phone in his hands before you had even said your second word. “No worries, put your number in mine.”
He unlocked it, handing the cellphone to you. Your fingers brushed as you grabbed it, and for a moment you were stuck in a cheesy movie, and you could almost hear the music starting to play in the background.
For God’s sake, just the slight touch of his fingers against yours had made fireworks blow up in your mind. You really needed to get yourself in check, if you wanted to try to be friends with him.
You put in your number, before handing his phone back to him. This time, your fingers didn’t touch, and it almost disappointed you.
That scared you to no ends. Who were you to think you were worth Park Jimin’s friendship anyway?
***
If there was one thing you hadn’t expected from giving your phone number to the Park Jimin, it was how much of a texter he was. Indeed, there hadn’t been a single day he hadn’t texted you since Saturday, sending you memes he found funny or asking you about your day.
It made your heart do somersaults in your chest each time, even as you tried to calm it down. To remind it that you were just yourself, and that he was so much more than you. That you weren’t part of the same universe, other than that of being neighbors.
Maybe you were just being pessimistic, but you had to protect your heart somehow, right?
You highly doubted it really worked though. Because when you rode the elevator together with him on Wednesday evening, Jimin blabbered on and on about something you found you couldn’t really listen to, yet your heart seemed to be in synch with every word he said.
Not only was he a texter, but he was a talker too. You didn’t mind it one bit. No, it was so much more than that cold silence he had offered you for a month.
You wondered what he had been doing, in the last few days. Because the air around him didn’t seem quite as heavy as it had been before, and though there were still shadows in his eyes, you could see the sun peeking through the clouds. Sometimes they even scattered away, as if strong winds had pulled their heaviness away from him.
It was truly beautiful to see.
“What about you?” Jimin suddenly asked.
You zoned back in, glancing at him and blinking once as the doors slid open. “Uh?” you let out.
He laughed, heartily, head throwing back like you had seen him do so many times behind the screen of your phone. The real thing didn’t compare to it – no, it was so much more, like you had just been blessed by a rare phenomenon, one you knew you’d come to cherish.
“You weren’t listening to a word I said, weren’t you?”
The duality of Park Jimin confused you deeply. How could he have gone from ice itself to that warm smiley boy?
“Sorry, I’ve had a long day”, you lied.
No, it wasn’t the long day that was playing with your mind. It rather was him that clouded your thoughts, him and the fragrance of his cologne.
You hadn’t thought someone could smell so good before you’d stood in that elevator with him on a random Wednesday evening.
He pursed his lips in a sympathetic smile as you walked out of the elevator, aiming for your respective doors. “Well, I told you I wasn’t doing much tonight, and asked about you.”
Was that an invitation, hidden behind his words?
“Oh”, you let out. “I have leftover pasta from last night, so I’m probably just going to eat that and then chill.”
He nodded, that same soft smile still adorning his lips. “Sounds yummy.”
You really didn’t know where you found the courage to say that, but you said, “I have enough for two, if you want.”
He squinted his eyes a little, as if suspicious, before nodding once. “I need to take a shower, but I can come over in fifteen minutes.”
The sentence was said like a question, and you chuckled. For what you didn’t know.
“Sure, I’ll take a shower too.”
He nodded his head, grinning a little before dialing the code to his apartment. “Then see you soon.”
It’s strange, how friendship sometimes blossoms from the least expected place. Like a flower growing out of a crack in cement, or like the first weed piercing the blanket of snow after a long winter. Your friendship with Jimin felt just like that – him having been the cement you had somehow cracked open, that night you had broken down in front of him.
Just as you had had to finally let Collin go, Jimin had walked into your life, filling a hole that had threatened to swallow you whole for a time. You had never realized just how much you had wanted to find a way to make it work with Collin, until you had learned about Harper and him and their baby. In some deep dark corner of you, you had thought Collin would follow you, someday. The realization that he wouldn’t, on that Friday night, had been like a wake-up call you had desperately needed. That, and the unexpected friendship you and Jimin shared.
After that night he came over to eat pasta, you started to hang out frequently. He even invited you to the party for the release of Hoseok’s new album, though you had had to refuse. You didn’t really do parties like that. And maybe if you and Jimin had been friends for longer than 24h, you would have said yes, but you hadn’t been.
Yet, even though you hadn’t gone, he had come over to your place after. You were lucky you only taught two afternoon classes on Friday, because otherwise you would have been completely dead the next day. But everything had gone alright, and Jimin had apologized profusely for coming over so late, and he had offered getting ice cream together as an apology.
You had done that quite a lot, at the beginning. Finding reasons to hang out again, that is. Until you had stopped asking the other, just knocking on the other’s door whenever you felt like hanging out.
Slowly but surely, Jimin weaved its way into the tapestry that was your life, so thoroughly that you couldn’t imagine it without him now. Though you both never crossed that line between friendship and more, and really you were thankful for it.
You definitely weren’t ready to get involved in a relationship anyway.
And you had been right, about him becoming a better neighbor. Indeed, as the shadows in his eyes became infrequent whenever you were around, Jimin stopped acting like he had at first, the loud music becoming a rare occurrence with you usually being present. He also kept his apartment clean and organized, saying he didn’t want you to see the filth he had lived in for a couple of months. It was endearing, in some way, though you usually helped him with the cleaning, because he always helped you with yours. And he had stopped leaving his trash outside his door, preventing the hallway from taking a sour odor you really didn’t wish to smell ever again.
One late September evening, you found yourself cuddled on Jimin’s couch, holding a pillow tight to your chest as you were watching a lame horror movie. Hoseok was sprawled on the carpet, and Jimin had mentioned another one of his friends – Sungwoon – coming over later, though you hadn’t met him yet. It was strange, as he was one of Jimin’s closest friends, but then again you rarely hung out with other people.
That was a lie. You hung out with Chaeyoung and her girlfriend plenty, but that was only because Chaeyoung found way too many excuses for you to hang out together. She had mentioned the terms “double date” more than once, and each time you had glared at your friend until she had apologized. Though clearly Chaeyoung was set on one thing and one thing only – make sure you forgot everything about Collin, and it seemed she believed getting together with Jimin would be the key to that.
Perhaps it was weird, but you had promised yourself you weren’t going to indulge into the drug that Park Jimin was. And so far you hadn’t been tempted – Jimin was just an overall really friendly person, underneath that cold persona he had sported at the beginning, and he had helped you when you were at a low point.
One thing was for sure: you were aware of him, all the time. Because Jimin shone in every room he stepped in, and it was hard to look away from him. To ignore the heady scent of his fragrance, even as it made your body react in a way you always pushed away to the far back of your mind.
You blamed it on the fact that you were a woman and he, a man. It was bound to make you feel something once in a while. Not forgetting the fact that he was goddamn Park Jimin.
You scoffed and Jimin threw you a questioning glance. You slightly shook your head, to indicate that you were alright, before focusing back on the TV. Jimin didn’t say anything either, and you watched the movie for a while, without glancing at each other again. A rectangle of light near the floor also had you realizing that Hoseok wasn’t paying attention to the movie at all, instead scrolling on Instagram.
The music swelled, catching your attention, and the end of the movie flashed before your eyes, all the main characters dying one by one at the hand of a crazy ventriloquist doll, whose tongue got longer and longer with each person it killed. It was terrifyingly captivating, and you found you couldn’t look away, even if the movie was over all not the scary movie you had expected it’d be.
Once the credits started rolling on the screen, and the pumping of the blood in your veins finally slowed back down, you all moved towards the kitchen, in the hope that you’d find a wine bottle in the fridge. Which you did, and you were halfway through your first glass when Sungwoon arrived, and luckily enough the young man had brought refills for the coffers – beer and makgeolli.
And so you drank, alcohol flowing freely between you all. You found yourself attracted by Sungwoon’s gravity, and you stood close to him, while Jimin and Hoseok talked about their current projects at the kitchen table. In any other situation, you would have been uncomfortable – you barely even were comfortable with Hoseok, even though he was Jimin’s friend you had spent the most time with – but Sungwoon had a calm aura surrounding him, and you quite enjoyed it. Or maybe it was because Jimin was in the vicinity of you, and you always felt comfortable around him.
“So, your mom is a famous actress, right?” Sungwoon asked as he was leaning against the island in Jimin’s kitchen. One of his arms was folded on his chest, while the other held up the beer he was currently drinking, though you could see the bottle was almost empty.
You nodded, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, you probably wouldn’t have found anything to reply, but you found yourself saying, “It’s not as impressive as it seems”.
Sungwoon chuckled, and you gazed at his smile. At the plump lips that he wet with a dart of his tongue, and that glistened in the light as he spoke again. “Right. And yet you found yourself escaping to the other side of the world.”
It was said on a teasing tone, and though your thoughts threatened to diverge towards Collin, you stopped their course before they reached destination. “I’ve always wanted to get out of my comfort zone.”
“I hope it worked.” His words were accompanied by the upward curve of his lips, and your eyes dipped to them again. His mouth reminded you of another’s mouth, and you found your gaze trailing toward where Jimin and Hoseok were sitting, at the kitchen table.
Jimin caught your eyes, his expression softening into one you hadn’t really seen on his features before. Blood rushed to your cheeks, for a reason you didn’t quite know, and you resumed your attention on Sungwoon.
“Trust me, it did.” And even though Jimin wasn’t in your line of sight anymore, he had invaded your thoughts as you had spoken the truth.
Sungwoon maintained the conversation for a while longer, as you were all too aware of Jimin’s presence in the room. You liked to tell yourself that it was reciprocated, because each time you glanced at him, he was already looking. Until he and Hoseok got up from their spot at the table, making their way to Sungwoon and you.
“Do you two want to go to Taehyung’s party?” Jimin asked as he stopped next to you.
Right, he had talked to you about that party a while ago, and you had said you’d rather stay home, which Jimin had agreed to. But that was before Hoseok had decided to come hang out with you before heading to the party. It seemed the frenzy that inhabited the young man had slowly infected Jimin, because he had an expectant look in his eyes, his lips forming a small begging pout.
You chuckled, blushing, as you avoided his pleading features. “I already told you I don’t really do parties like that.”
Sungwoon let out a small teasing tsk. “Didn’t you say you like getting out of your comfort zone?”
You were about to reply that hanging out with celebrities all the time was already enough getting out of your comfort zone when Jimin gently nudged you with his elbow.
“She’ll say yes, she can’t resist me.”
His words had sounded… somewhat possessive. As if he knew you better than anyone in the world, even though your friendship was fairly new. It struck you, just how little time mattered when you developed a true relationship with someone, no matter how platonic it was.
The worst part of it all was that he was right, in some sort of way. You found it hard to say no to him, but then again you were pretty sure most of the human population would find it hard to say no to Park Jimin.
“Well, I’m getting tired”, you lied, because in truth the alcohol had woken you up more than you had thought it possible, even if you hadn’t touched the makgeolli yet.
Jimin had a devilish smirk on his lips once you finally looked back at him again. “In that case let’s just go for an hour or two and then come home.”
Hoseok and Sungwoon’s gazes moved from Jimin to you, awaiting your reply.
“You say that, and then it’ll be seven am and you’ll be begging me to stay longer.”
He snorted. “I’d never beg you for anything, you know that.”
Immediately, his features once again softened into that small pout of his, and you punched him in the shoulder.
“Asshole.”
He massaged the spot you had hit, shrugging a little. “I’ll make you some kimchi if we go.”
It was even harder to say no when the perspective of him making you kimchi was on the table.
“The one you made in Run BTS?”
He nodded.
“I hate you.”
“Is that code word for yes?”
You rolled your eyes, though a smile was tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe. Figure it out.”
His expression turned puzzled, and you stole a quick look towards Sungwoon and Hoseok, who both had that same puzzled expression on their features, though it was mixed with awe. What for, you didn’t know.
“I will call a cab, then,” Jimin said, the end of his sentence going a little higher, as if it was a question more than a statement.
You nodded once, and relief flooded his gaze as he pulled out his phone. Next thing you knew, you were sitting between Jimin and Sungwoon on the backseat of the cab as you were making your way to Taehyung’s party, regretting your decision just a little. Not enough to want to head home, though.
One thing you hadn’t expected about Kim Taehyung was how weirdly extroverted he was. Not quite extroverted, but ready to throw a party in the comfort of his own place at any moment whatsoever. His parties were coveted by the celebrity scene of Seoul, though not many people were usually invited. No, Taehyung still had an intimate aura surrounding him, like he was a mystery no one could really quite decipher, and so intimate parties were more his thing.
Those parties came like a cycle, once every month if they weren’t too busy, and were usually attended by the members of BTS and a couple of other artists from Hybe. He had even started inviting the members of Blackpink and his Wooga squad, though that had been before you had started attending the parties.
In all truth, you had only gone to one, and you were still uncertain if it had been real or a product of your imagination. A lucid dream, if you will.
Tonight proved to be different, though you were taken aback by the crowd in Taehyung’s living room, illuminated by only a string of red LED lights. Jazz music was playing over the speakers in one corner, and people were mingling around, no inhibition left behind.
It was a good thing no cameras were allowed in, otherwise you were pretty sure the whole Korean entertainment industry would have gone through so much drama it would have crumbled to the ground.
A champagne fountain was in the corner of the room, glasses precariously piled one on top of the others. People stayed away from it, a man in a black tux giving the drink to the partiers, in a clear attempt to avoid an accident.
You slid your gaze to Jimin once you’d taken the room in, your eyes a little wide. Sungwoon and Hoseok had already disappeared into the crowd.
“You didn’t tell me there would be so many people”, you said through gritted teeth, right as you felt your anxiety spike through the roof.
Jimin had a sheepish look on his face, and he didn’t hold your gaze, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I honestly had no idea.” He pursed his lips, before nibbling on the bottom one. “We can head home if you want.”
Perhaps it was because you had already drunk enough for your mind to be clouded with alcohol, or maybe it was the apologetic expression on Jimin’s features, but you said, “Let’s stay for an hour and then leave”.
The sheepish expression melted into a smile. “Do you want me to get you champagne?”
Before you could reply, Hoseok came back, two glasses in hands. He handed them to you, and you thanked him, bowing your head, though you weren’t quite sure you felt like drinking more than you already had. You had never been that much of a heavy drinker after all.
“Tae says he’ll play the trumpet soon”, he informed you, right as he glanced over his shoulder.
Jimin took a sip of his glass, then seemed to reconsider his decision as he threw it back and downed it in one long gulp. You handed yours to him as he looked at you. He shook his head no, motioning for you to drink up. You scrunched up your nose, because quite frankly you had never liked champagne, but you downed the glass nonetheless.
Here’s to not getting plastered.
You scrunched up your nose in disgust as your throat burned with the bubbles of the golden liquid, and Jimin let out a childish laugh that had your heart melting in your chest. You glared at him, and he winked.
“Now let’s go party.”
You were about to say no when the music turned to an upbeat tempo, and he grabbed your hand to pull you into the crowd. You held onto the champagne flute for dear life as he led you to the middle of the living room, and when he turned around and started dancing, you just stood there awkwardly.
That made Jimin giggle harder, and he hid his face behind his hand as he laughed.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
You glared at him, eyes narrowing dangerously. “You know I don’t really dance in public.”
He grabbed the glass from your hand, and your eyes widened in surprise as he disappeared. You tried watching him through the crowd, but you were too small to see over the heads of the people surrounding you.
“Where’s Jimin?” a male voice said in your ear, startling you from its proximity.
It was Sungwoon.
“I don’t know”, you admitted. “I think he went to bring our glasses back to the pyramid.”
Sungwoon glanced in that direction, nodding once. “He’s heading back this way.”
You tried to catch a glimpse of your friend, but it proved to be useless.
“Do you like to dance?” Sungwoon asked, leaning closer again to speak in your ear, and your cheeks flushed red as his warm breath hit your ear and the smell of his cologne met your nose.
Clearly Jimin wasn’t the only man in the world that smelled too damn good for your sanity.
“Not really”, you admitted, and you wringed your hands together. “Not at all, actually.”
Before Sungwoon could say anything, Jimin reappeared. “What are you two doing?” he asked, and there was a slight strain to his voice.
Sungwoon straightened, stepping away from you. “Just talking.”
Jimin nodded, tight-lipped smile adorning his lips. You chuckled at the look on his face, and he stared you up and down, a sassy fist resting on his hip.
“What’s got you laughing?” he asked.
You tilted your head to the side. You. This whole situation, the champagne and the music. “Nothing.”
Jimin clearly didn’t believe you, as he stepped closer. “Well then, why don’t you dance for me?”
It was the way he said those last two words, so innocently and yet they were coated with velvet. It made you gasp a little, mouth falling open as you tried to find a smart-ass comment to reply, but came up short.
You didn’t have to glance to the side to realize Sungwoon was gone.
“I don’t dance”, you replied, blushing.
He smirked then, his eyes taking on a darkened shade in the red lights of the room. “I’ll show you.”
And he did. He did show you, with his hands guiding your hips as he pulled you against him, your backside flush against him. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the overall sensual atmosphere that had taken over Taehyung’s apartment, but you didn’t want to move away. Wanted to press yourself further into the solid wall that was Jimin behind you.
It was wrong, yet it felt oh so right.
You moved in unison for a while, as if you had done it many times before. As if grinding on Jimin was a common occurrence to you, the girl that had never grinded on anyone before. Jimin kept speaking in your ear, tone still friendly even with the proximity, as if the dance meant nothing.
And though you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t, you found your heart didn’t really want to believe it.
“See, you’re not so bad”, Jimin encouraged you, hot breath tickling the side of your face.
You snorted, trying not to think about his hands guiding your hips. “You’re doing all the work.”
He chuckled, before spinning you around. His hands still were on your hips, but the movement had somehow put a little distance between you, enough so that you didn’t feel uncomfortable with his proximity.
Scratch that, you felt uncomfortable with how far he suddenly was.
“Give yourself some credit, Y/n”, he said with a light chuckle. “You’re a natural.”
You knew that you in fact were anything but a natural, but you still offered him a lopsided smile. He replied with a grin of his own, one that held nothing but that friendly warmth that had been inhabiting him since the night you had broken down at his place.
You wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t tried getting into his apartment, that day. You were almost convinced you wouldn’t be friends now. You liked to tell yourself he’d have warm up to you still, but there was no way to know, and it wasn’t a parallel universe you wished to live in.
“I think Tae’s going to play the trumpet now”, Jimin said, and he let go of your hips as the music stopped.
You almost wished he hadn’t, but then again it was better for your sanity that way.
“He is so random”, you mumbled and you watched Tae as he stepped on the couch, indeed holding his trumpet.
Jimin laughed, nodding eagerly. “He is. That’s why we love him.”
You glanced at Jimin then, and it endeared you, how he looked at Tae. With a small warm smile, eyes creased at the corners with the fondness they held. It struck you then – that was how he had been looking at you earlier.
With fondness, and maybe even a little surprise. As if he hadn’t expected to be looking at you like that one day.
You truly had changed, hadn’t you? From strangers to close friends... it was the most beautiful thing in life.
Taehyung started playing the trumpet, catching your attention, and you watched the show as he free-styled some jazz music – all jazz music felt free-styled to you. He stopped once in a while, to take a breath or to let out a giggle at someone’s comment or cheer, his boxy smile on display whenever he looked at the crowd of his friends.
You found yourself gazing at Jimin, too. He wasn’t looking at you, or whenever you looked he turned his head away, as if pretending he hadn’t been looking in the first place. It was cute, and so like Jimin that you found yourself giggling a little, blush creeping on your cheeks, the fifth time you almost caught him looking.
He leaned closer to you, a crease appearing between his brows. “What are you giggling about?”
You. Your thoughts had followed that train earlier, and this time they won. “About you.”
He squinted his eyes, a pout forming on his lips. “What?”
You shushed him, nodding towards Taehyung. “It’s impolite to talk during a show”, you whispered, and he glared at you, though the corners of his lips were tugging upwards.
“Sorry, sorry.”
It just made you smile wider than you already were, as your eyes trailed back to Taehyung.
Soon enough, the young man finished is little performance, in a fit of laughter that was mostly shared by his Wooga squad, as they had been the closest to him. Whatever they had been joking about seemed to be quite funny, and you felt your heart warm in your chest.
It often did, when you saw just how happy your favourite idols were, in their natural habitat. Indeed, it was quite hard to forget you had been a big BTS fan, and really, you just wished all of them would be happy.
They were, though they were humans, and they too had their up-and-downs. You knew that more than anything, now.
It was well past 2 am when you and Jimin stumbled back home, and you didn’t even have to talk about it for you to follow Jimin into his apartment. You settled on the couch, minds still buzzing with the afterglow of the revelry the night had entailed.
You often did that – sleep overs, that is. You hadn’t stepped into his room since the dreaded night though, and you usually slept on the couch. Most times he stayed with you, though you both slept at an extremity of the couch, far enough not to touch.
So you settled on your sides, cozying up in blankets Jimin had fished in his room, and you leaned your head against the couch as Jimin looked at his phone.
The glow of the screen caressed his features gently, high-lighting the red his cheeks had taken after the alcohol had fully reached his system. He was pouting a little, as he often did when he focused on something, and it took him a moment to realize you were staring at him.
“Are you okay?” he asked once his eyes finally met yours.
You almost said that you had never been more okay in your life, but it felt like it was a lie. You had been feeling like that for weeks now, all thanks to the friendship he offered you.
“I told you we’d be coming home late”, you said as you held in a yawn.
He pursed his lips, shrugging his shoulders. “You said 7 am, and it’s not even 3 am yet.”
You chuckled. “I’m surprised I enjoyed the party that much”, you admitted, face falling serious as your eyes lost their focus on him, images of the night coming back to your mind. “Taehyung is really good at throwing parties.”
“The best”, Jimin agreed. “He even got you to dance to That That.”
You laughed, and then winced. “That was embarrassing.”
He echoed your laugh with one of his own, giggling and childish and really too cute for your own good. “I have to agree that Jungkook stole the show.”
“Doesn’t he always?” you asked, sighing dramatically.
Jimin nodded, and this time you stayed silent, as he looked at his phone again. Until a mischievous smirk moved on his lips, and you only understood why when the song started playing.
He shot to his feet, holding out a hand to pull you to a stand too.
“What are you doing?” you asked, brows knitting together as you grabbed his hand carefully.
“If you dance it now, you’d be the one stealing the show.”
You barked out a laugh that was anything but lady-like as he pulled you up. “Bitch, you’re the better dancer here.”
He shrugged again. “I won’t be dancing.”
And as if he wanted to convince you that he indeed wouldn’t, he sat back on the couch, manspreading just a little too much. Which had your eyes looking down at his lap, and you would have gouged your eyeballs out for the treachery to your heart that it was.
“That’s not fair”, you said, cheeks burning. “I won’t dance for you.”
“Then say goodbye to your kimchi.” He crossed his arm on his chest, one eyebrow cocked sassily.
“I hate you”, you mumbled, right as the chorus of the song came around.
You folded though, and you danced to the choreography, missing the beat by a little. You didn’t really care, as Jimin just started laughing, and you followed him, stopping in the middle of the dance.
“Aishi, that’s embarrassing”, you whined, hiding your face in your hands.
You heard the rustle of clothes, and you froze as Jimin gently grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. He was standing close, though the only part of him that was touching you was his palms.
Until his lips pressed against yours, and your eyes widened in surprise. You took a step back, and Jimin looked at you with that same startled look on his face.
“What did you just do?” you asked, heart beating out of your chest.
He wet his lips, and his features turned apologetic. “I kissed you.”
Now, there were many moments you could point out as having shaped your life. The moment you had decided to move to Korea, that last call with Collin, the moment Jimin had opened his door to you and you had stepped into his apartment, into his life. The day you had graduated college, and before that, the day you had graduated high school. Small moments – big moments, maybe – that had formed the mosaic of your past, and shaped you into being who you were today, into being where you were today. And maybe that was it: they had been slowly forming the mosaic of this moment with Jimin, if you chose to let him in.
And just like the sun hitting the mosaic at the perfect angle, you knew you couldn’t step away.
“Do it again”, you said, breathlessly, and a hundred emotions seemed to move in Jimin’s gaze before he grabbed your face, pulling you into the kiss.
You exploded with colors, bright and warm like an early fall afternoon, and you kissed him back, your hands resting flat against his chest, feeling the quick beat of his heart under your right palm. Your left hand slid up to the nape of his neck as one of his moved to your waist, pulling you ever so closer, right as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss.
Park Jimin was definitely the best kiss you had ever had in your life. As if all the ones before him had been amateurs, and he was a professional in the arts of love. And maybe he was, or he just had far more experience than you did. Or perhaps it was just that you had been waiting for him all this time, and he for you.
Jimin gently bit at your bottom lip, tongue darting out to soothe the ache as a breathy sound fell from your mouth, only to be swallowed by his. It seemed to do something to him, that sound, because next thing you knew he was pulling you closer to the couch.
He sat as soon as the back of his legs hit the furniture, once again manspreading, and this time you climbed on the throne that was his lap, straddling him. You joined your lips again, sealing the deal. Because that was what it felt like – as if you were making a deal with the devil.
Jimin was too good to be true, and too good to be yours.
The thought sparked some sense in your lust-filled mind, and you pulled away, breathing heavily as your gaze met his. He looked startled, lips a little swollen by the ministration of your mouth against his. By the fact you had been kissing, lost in the moment, just a few seconds ago.
Your hands were on his shoulders, and you pushed yourself away, until you were standing and there finally was a healthy distance between you.
“I…” you breathed and your eyes fell to his mouth, before going back to his gaze. To the shadows that were now moving in front of the sun, and you wished you could take it back.
Take the last two minutes back, and forget that you had ever kissed.
“I should go home”, you muttered.
He didn’t try to stop you. Didn’t even say anything, as if he was struck dumb by what you had just done. Maybe you were too, and maybe that explained the panic that was slowly settling into your blood, into your entire being.
What had you just done?
***
It had been a few weeks, since Taehyung’s party, and whatever had happened after that. You had tried not to think about it, had pretended it had never happened… and so had Jimin. He had shown up on your doorstep the next morning, with hangover soup, and he hadn’t mentioned anything. Had only offered you a warm friendly smile as you had just stared at him for a moment, until he had joked about you looking like a fish out of water, and that had been that.
You hadn’t mentioned it once, falling back into your usual friendship, with a safe distance that felt a little wider now. Probably because at night you still somehow remembered how little distance there had been between you, on his couch, and how much of his body you had been touching. Not that you had touched a lot… it just felt like you had.
Fortunately, it was easy, to be friends with Jimin. Had been for a while now, and you would forever be thankful that it still was after the little bump in the road that you had encountered. Though you sometimes caught the shadows in his eyes, clouds that you had imagined had scattered away after you had grown closer…
They never lingered. He smiled, and they left, as his gaze turned warm with that same fondness and friendliness and overall kind light that they always held. You liked to tell yourself that you knew enough to be able to tell if it was faked, but in reality, you couldn’t really. Maybe you just wanted to believe it to be the truth.
You had shattered the mosaic of you, as you had stepped away that night, but it was hard to convince yourself that you hadn’t done the right thing. He was Park Jimin, and you were no one. No one compared to him, and compared to the people that were part of his day-to-day life. You doubted there was a universe out there where it made sense for you and him to be together like that. And really, your friendship was enough for you, and you were perfectly happy and content keeping it the way that it was. It was a different mosaic, one that held more blues and lilacs and yellows, but they formed a work of art still worth looking at, for all the missing red that it held.
October came with chill winds and bright leaves, the color of autumn creating a beautiful landscape of their own. Jimin invited you to Busan, for the concert that was long awaited by Army. He had everything arranged for you so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything, everything down to the hotel room and the food that you’d eat. You were thankful for it, even though you could have easily paid for it all. It showed just how good of a friend Jimin was. He even organized a dinner with his family and some of the members, two days after the concert, saying that he wanted his family to meet you, as you were the person he spent the most time with now.
You were excited, for the dinner. Anxious, but excited nonetheless, as you couldn’t wait to see Jimin in the most natural setting that was his. Because Seoul never really felt natural with him. It rather was surreal, painted in a light you had never thought you’d see.
Hoseok and Jin ended up being the two only members to come to the dinner, and you sat with them, as Jimin helped his mother in the kitchen even though she had insisted she didn’t need any help. His father was supposed to come later, and it was unclear if his brother would be able to make it. It didn’t dim Jimin’s joy though, and he beamed as he moved around the kitchen with his mother.
His mother had been sweet, as Jimin had introduced you to the older lady when you had arrived at his childhood home. You could see that Jimin had her smile, though it seemed the woman’s smile was rarer than her son’s. Or maybe she was just cautious around you.
It reminded you that you were a foreigner, and that there was more than just a single world between you and Jimin. Not only was he an idol, but he was Korean, and you weren’t. It was simple, but you truly didn’t belong to the same universe. And you were okay with it – you had more stories to tell each other, from your respective universes. From your respective mosaics, that met at the edges in those shades of lilac and blue and yellow. It just wasn’t made to become one mosaic. You were two individual pieces, and it was to remain like that.
Yet, you couldn’t help but gaze at him, every once in a while. Each time you caught him already looking at you, and he offered you a cute grin, the one that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. It made your heart stutter in your chest, just a little, and you cursed at it, repeatedly.
It didn’t matter that Park Jimin had kissed you, once. You were just friends, and you hated that you sometimes felt like that about him. Like what you didn’t know… you just knew that you shouldn’t be feeling anything at all. Because he was Jimin, yes, but mostly because of Collin.
You weren’t ready to dive into anything right now. Doubted you’d ever be ready, after having been broken like you had been.
“Y/n!” Hoseok called your name, and you blinked a few times, focusing on reality. On the conversation the two men had been having, though you hadn’t listened to a single word of it.
“Uh?” you let out.
Jin had a smirk on his lips. “See, I told you.”
You furrowed your brows as they exchanged a knowing look. “What are you two going on about?”
Hoseok shrugged, running a hand through his hair. His hand then landed on the table, and your eyes dipped to the painted nails that adorned his fingers, before going back to his face.
“You two are weird”, you muttered, and then blushed as you realized what you had said. Though they just laughed, and you sighed in relief.
A little tiny part of you still felt really uncomfortable around BTS. Even if you had met all the members on more than one occasion. To be fair, Jin was the one you knew the less, but it helped that Hoseok was the one you were closest to. Besides Jimin, obviously. Yet you wouldn’t even dare call Hoseok a friend. He was just an acquaintance, at best.
“Why don’t you go help Jimin?” Jin asked, and he let out one of his iconic laughs as Hoseok punched him in the shoulder.
Your eyes trailed to Jimin, and you could see he was talking with his mother. Whatever they were talking about, it looked to be way too personal for you to want to step in.
“I…” you let out.
“You’re going to make her uncomfortable”, Hoseok said, chuckling. “Leave the poor girl alone.”
“Shut it, you agree with me anyway.” Jin punctuated his words with a small wink, that left you even more confused than you already were.
“What is going on?” you asked, cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment.
“We were saying that… Ow!” Jin yelped.
Hoseok had kicked him under the table. Yet it didn’t deter Jin, just made his shit-eating grin grow wider.
“What do you think about Jimin?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as he folded his arms on his chest.
If you hadn’t already been blushing, you were pretty sure you’d have turn beet red. Scratch that – you were pretty sure your blush had deepened so much you had turned purple.
“What…” you let out. “I…” You threw a look toward the man in question, who was still very much so engaged in a conversation with his mother, unaware of what was happening just a few meters away.
“You don’t have to reply”, Hoseok told you gently, offering you salvation.
Maybe you were stupid for not accepting it. “He’s a good friend.”
Jin’s grin faded into a knowing smile. “Friend?”
You gulped under his inquisitive gaze. “Why do you want to know?” you asked with a small voice.
“Because.” He glared at Hoseok as the young man threw him a warning glance. “You two have been spending a lot of time together, haven’t you?”
You couldn’t really deny that, so you just remained silent.
“They are neighbors, of course they have”, Hoseok replied instead.
Jin chuckled, finally nodding his head. “Right. Still, they might need help over there.”
“Just go yourself”, Hoseok said, rolling his eyes before laughing. “Leave Y/n alone.”
It was sweet, how Hoseok was trying to get Jin off your back, but you did actually feel like Jimin might need some rescuing from his mother.
Indeed, even if his back was turned to you, and his moon tattoo was the only thing you could really see, you could tell he had stiffened. And maybe it was wrong for you to feel like interrupting, but you just wanted to help your friend, right?
“It’s okay, I can ask if they need any help”, you said, pushing up to your feet.
Hoseok and Jin looked at you, the latter failing at keeping the shit-eating grin in. You couldn’t help but chuckle, though it mostly was because you were embarrassed.
Embarrassed and anxious, and probably still blushing like crazy.
You walked towards the kitchen, taking a deep breath to calm down, and to also push away the thoughts that were intrusively taking over your mind.
You weren’t stupid, and you were very much so aware of what Jin had been implying. And though Jin was right, to have a doubt about you and Jimin, he also was wrong. Because you were just you, and nothing more.
“I’m serious, Jimin-ie.” His mother’s words drifted to you, as Jin and Hoseok’s voices slowly faded in the background. “You shouldn’t be dating someone like her.”
You stopped, eyes widening.
“We are not dating, eoma.” Jimin scoffed, shaking his head. “We are just friends.”
It sounded bitter, so bitter you felt your heart clenching in your chest.
“Good, then. I’m sure she is sweet, but you shouldn’t be with someone…” Jimin’s mother trailed off, as her eyes met yours over Jimin’s shoulder. Her face changed, turning from that cold stern look she had been sporting a fraction of a second ago to a warm smile that even reached her eyes, making them crinkle in that same way Jimin’s eyes crinkled.
Jimin looked over his shoulder, not quite meeting your gaze, before looking back at his mother.
“Please don’t tell me what to do with my life.”
His voice was low, barely above a whisper, really, but you had moved closer, your steps carrying you even when your heart had stopped a few meters away. You forced your face to melt into a smile, and you really hoped it reached your eyes.
“Do you need any help with the food?” you asked, as you stopped next to Jimin. You didn’t look at him, instead focusing on his mother.
The woman slightly tilted her head to the side, before glancing at the array of food on the kitchen counter. “I’ve got it covered, thank you for offering, dear.”
You nodded, finally risking a glance at Jimin. He hadn’t looked away from his mother, and his profile was set in a harsh expression, one you recognized as the one he had offered you in those first few weeks after you had moved. It was almost startling, to see it on his pretty features right now, but you didn’t shy away from it.
He was right, you were just friends. Even though a part of you hurt at the thought that his mother wouldn’t approve of you, it didn’t change the fact that you were just friends. Had become friends by a weird twist of fate, that was true, but it was nothing more than that.
Yet, to have two people questioning you about the relationship that you shared in less than five minutes… it was scary. And it threatened the peaceful friendliness that you had been sharing since that kiss. Threatening to push it off the edge of a cliff, and you weren’t quite sure the fall would be for the better.
Jimin’s jaw was clenched, a muscle ticking under his skin, and as his mother turned, you brushed your hand against the tight fist that was hanging at his side, in an attempt to calm him down. To your surprise, his fist loosened, and half a beat later he brushed your hand too.
It brought you back to that kiss, and you pulled your hand away instinctively. He only then glanced at you, and you gulped at the sight of the shadows in his eyes. He looked troubled, haunted even, and even though he wasn’t clenching his jaw anymore, his lips were pulled into a straight line.
You breathed in, shakily, and tried to offer him a reassuring smile. You weren’t quite sure you had succeeded, even as the corners of his lips slightly tugged upwards too. The shadows didn’t really leave his gaze, and you found you couldn’t hold his eyes anymore.
Maybe that made you a coward.
***
You sighed as you took in the thin mat Jimin’s mother had placed on the floor of his father’s office, for you to sleep on. You had thanked the woman profusely still, even though a part of you was angered, at the thought that she had said what she had said to Jimin. You had tried to let it go, had tried to let go what Jin had said too, but some part of you had been struggling, grasping onto the last thread of the conversation, refusing to let it fall into silence.
Perhaps it was because Jimin’s attitude had changed, after that. He hadn’t quite smiled as he usually did, had barely joked around with his family and friends. He had instead brooded in a corner, and even Hoseok and Jin hadn’t been able to shake him out of the dark state of mind that had taken over him.
You felt guilty. Though you hadn’t quite been the culprit, hadn’t you? Except for that night when you had kissed him and imagined you could share something more than friendship…
You had been fools, the two of you.
“Y/n”, Jimin said from the doorway, and you spun around, slightly startled.
He was beautiful, in the simple pajamas he had brought for the trip. He still was wearing his earrings, and they dangled from his ears as he leaned against the doorframe, hands in the pocket of his pants.
“Hey”, you let out, eyes shying from his, falling to the floor.
An awkward silence moved around you, filling the already warm room with an uncomfortable heat that pressed down on you.
“I have to apologize”, Jimin murmured, and your eyes shot to his face.
He wasn’t looking at you anymore.
“For thinking that this dinner was a good idea.”
You didn’t like the way a sharp pain cut through your heart. Hated it, loathed it, and wished it had never reached your heart.
“The dinner was fine”, you said with a small voice.
Jimin chuckled, and it once again sounded bitter. “I know you heard what my mother said.” He scoffed a little then, before adding, “I know Jin-hyung also said something to you. He kept apologizing for it, when they left. He thought that was the reason why I’ve been upset.”
You were stuck in silence, even though you wanted to say something, anything, to reassure him. It felt as if the shadows in Jimin’s eyes were slowly taking over the whole place surrounding you.
“It wasn’t, if you were wondering”, he said after a moment, finally meeting your gaze again. Holding it was the hardest thing you had ever had to do.
“What’s wrong, Jimin?” you asked. Your voice was tiny, so tiny you wanted to disappear through the floor.
He clenched his jaw, lips pressing into a thin line, much like they had earlier. “We should have talked, about that night.”
You wanted to pretend you didn’t know what he was talking about, but it would have been useless.
“It didn’t mean anything”, you whispered.
He breathed in, his shoulders moving up a little, before falling back down into their previous position. A little lower, maybe. It made him look defeated, and oh so tired.
“I know.” He shut his eyes, sighing once again. “I’m sorry it happened.”
Your heart squeezed a little more in your chest, making it hard for you to breathe. “It’s okay, Jimin, I never was angry at you. We were both just drunk.”
He nodded, slowly, eyes still closed. “Yeah.”
The silence that fell around you then was different. Colder, and you found yourself shivering despite the previous heat.
“Well”, he let out, pushing up from the doorframe, his eyelids finally fluttering open. “I’ll let you go to bed.”
He made to turn away, and you found yourself blinking back tears. “We’re good, right?”
You didn’t know why you had asked. Only knew that fear had taken a hold of you, much like it had in a parallel night to this one, when Collin had broken up with you. Maybe you were looking for reassurance, or maybe you were just afraid to face the truth.
Because it did feel like there was a finality in the way Jimin was carrying himself.
“Of course”, he said, nodding slowly once again. “Of course we are.”
“Good”, you quickly said, scanning his features, trying to get him to look at you, because you knew his eyes never lied. “I’m glad we are.”
“Me too”, he whispered.
But he hadn’t met your gaze.
He hadn’t met your gaze.
***
Waking up the next morning felt wrong, as if the sun had risen in the west instead of the east. As if rain was going up instead of down, and as if the stars had gone black. It was strange, to have the grief of losing Collin hitting you that hard, so long after the events. It had been months, now, yet it was just hitting you how alone you felt.
You refused to think that it had something to do with your conversation with Jimin last night. You had just stated a simple truth, one that you had to learn to live with. But why did it feel like such a lie, then?
Maybe because it was, and the night you had kissed had changed everything. You had been a fool to believe it hadn’t affected your friendship. You were pretty sure it had ruined it, like the final scene of a movie, where the main character dies for no other purpose than shocking the watcher. It had put a finality, to you, and to a story that could have been beautiful.
You got up from the sleeping mat, feeling as if you were being crushed under the weight of your heart.
“Good morning, Y/n”, a voice said from the doorframe.
You turned around, slower than you had the night before, in that same setting. Except this time, it wasn’t Jimin, but his mother.
“Jimin wanted me to tell you that he had to go back to Seoul early, but he’s had a car come to get you.”
Really, the world was spinning off its axis now. Because the friend you had known in the last few months would have never left you behind, no matter the reason.
“Thank you for letting me know”, you said, eyes falling to a spot on the floor.
“There is some breakfast for you”, his mother said, unaware of the way your heart was breaking, “if you’d like to eat before leaving.”
Now, the perspective of eating a breakfast cooked by Jimin’s mother reassured you, somehow. Maybe because the woman’s food was outstanding, as you had been able to see for yourself the night before.
You nodded, offering the woman a small smile. “That sounds lovely.”
The older lady smiled back, before indicating that she’d be waiting in the kitchen. And that was how you found yourself sitting in front of her, over more food than you’d ever be able to eat so early in the morning, though everything looked delicious.
It was awkward, to be sitting there, when some part of you was aching at the thought of Jimin. His mother offered you a light conversation, asking questions about where you were from, and what you did for a living. Nothing really intrusive, and really, if she hadn’t told anything to Jimin last night, you would have even thought she liked you.
You weren’t stupid, though, and you could hear the disapproving silence that stretched between the woman’s sentences.
“And how did you meet Jimin?” she suddenly asked, after having sipped on her tea. “He never really told me anything other than that time you visited the condominium.”
You froze, food halfway to your mouth. “What?”
The lady smiled, letting out a small chuckle. “He mentioned you, last February. Said a pretty girl and her boyfriend were going to move in next door.”
Silence. That was all that your mind was able to produce after the lady’s revelation. It seemed to dim her light mood because her smile fell, and a worried creased appeared between her brows.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
You shook out of your trance, putting down the food in the plate in front of you. “No”, you murmured, eyes falling down a second after the food.
You hadn’t known. Jimin had never mentioned… that he had seen you, too, the day he had met Collin. You had barely ever spoken about it, Collin a foreign territory when it came to conversation between you. But he had admitted he had seen Collin, in that hallway between your apartments.
Why hadn’t he told you? How had you been so close to him, back then, without even knowing?
You doubted you’d ever be able to be close to him without knowing again. You were too… aware of him now that you had gotten to know him. Now that you knew his lips molded yours perfectly…
“He didn’t tell me”, you finally admitted, as Jimin’s mother still was looking at you pointedly.
Said a pretty girl and her boyfriend were going to move next door.
“Oh”, his mother let out. “But you have gotten close, haven’t you?”
You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. You nodded, taking a deep breath to steel yourself. “We have. Couldn’t imagine my life without him now.”
Your words hung heavily, in the air between you and his mother. You wished you hadn’t spoken them, knowing that the lady disapproved of you, together. Not that you ever would be.
“He said the same thing”, his mother admitted. “I’m glad to know he has such a good friend living next door.”
Good friend. It hurt just a little more, to hear the woman calling you that, even if you had been trying to convince yourself about it for a while.
To convince yourself? Your heart stopped in your chest, only to begin again on an erratic beat, one that had you thinking you were going to die on the spot. Of course, you were developing feelings for Jimin.
You were a damn fool.
“Thank you”, you said, eyes getting lost in the space between you and her. You didn’t really know what you were thanking her for, not as the shock of the truth was still ringing through you.
Not when you for once failed at lying to yourself, like you’d been doing for so long.
It had never been about Collin. Had always been about Jimin, and the person that he was. The idol that he was. It had been about the fact that some dirty dark corner of your mind felt… inadequate, in his light. Felt like you were tainting him, with your ordinary self. He deserved someone like him, someone that shone, with purity and kindness and everything in between.
Someone whose smile could lit up the whole room. Someone who always had kind words for the people surrounding them, and who knew how to make light of any situation. Someone that was struggling with their own shadows, but never let them affect those surrounding them.
You weren’t quite sure you could be that person. Were actually quite convinced you weren’t that person at all. That, more than anything, made you realize that maybe, maybe your friendship had always been meant to end, in one way or another. And perhaps, perhaps it was better to put a stop to it before you went too far.
Why, then, did it feel like you had gone too far already?
Because, you told yourself. Because he kissed me, and I kissed him back, and he’s all I’ve been able to think about since then.
You had been wrong, for telling him that the kiss hadn’t meant anything. It had meant the whole world to you, had shown you a mosaic of you you had cherished, for those few seconds before you had shattered it. You had been the one to pull away, and to declare it to be a mistake.
Maybe, in some parallel universe, you wouldn’t have, and you’d be together now. It was a different mosaic, one you felt as if you were looking at through some tainted glass, but maybe you had made a mistake. Knowing Jimin, he had probably decided not to mention anything to respect your decision.
To not make you feel more uncomfortable than he had clearly believed you had been. It was stupid, really, because you hadn’t been uncomfortable, kissing him.
You had felt like you were coming home after a long day of work, to the coziness of the arms of the person you were meant to love.
A pretty girl and her boyfriend.
***
Three raps, on his door.
Knock knock knock.
You had gone straight to his place, after coming home from Busan. It had been strange, to ride that car alone without him, especially as he had been the one to drive you to the city where he had grown up. He had been all you had been able to think about, for the hours between the two cities.
You were anxious, standing there in front of his place. Like you didn’t belong there, even if you had been in that exact spot many times before. It brought you back to that first time you had been there, struggling to get in thinking that it was your own home.
It took you a long time, standing there, to realize that he wasn’t going to open. So long your eyes fell down to the floor, and trailed to the place where you had cleaned his vomit, months ago.
A whole world ago.
You wished you could go back to that moment. Well, not exactly to the moment you’d been cleaning up after him, but to the days that had followed. You were pretty sure that, more than anything, had been the spark of your friendship. Otherwise, you doubted Jimin would have chosen to take care of you, that night you had stumbled in his home. God knew you would have never become friends if you hadn’t.
It took you an even longer time to give up standing there. To blink away the tears that had slowly brimmed your gaze, and to head home. Accepting your defeat.
It took you a few more days, to realize Jimin was gone. Had probably not even gone back to his place once, crashing at one of his friends’ instead. You could have texted Hoseok, to ask, but you chose not to.
As you had chosen to never contact Collin again, after he had called to tell you about Harper.
In those few days, that shone with Jimin’s absence, you found the children at work to be just a little harder to deal with, just a little harder to talk to. You found that the end of your days was just a little harsher to live through, especially as you rode that elevator where you had first met him. That felt so empty now that he was gone, though that stain on the carpet hadn’t moved. As if to say the world hadn’t changed, at all.
As if to say you were the only thing that had changed in this universe. You didn’t know if it was reassuring, or if it was making you feel worse. All you knew was that your nights were haunted with images of him, even though your days were empty with his reality.
It was like he had turned into a ghost.
“You should come with us”, Chaeyoung said from the doorframe of your class, startling you out of your thoughts.
She had invited you to hang out in Hongdae, along with her girlfriend and some of her other friends, later that night. You hadn’t decided if you were going to go yet, as if doing an activity other than work felt wrong.
Some part of you knew that it was because you were afraid to not be home when Jimin was going to come. Because you were convinced he’d come back. If there was one thing you knew about him, it was that no matter what, he’d always find his way to you.
Like that first moment you had stepped in the same elevator as him, and like the many times you had run into each other after that. He was bound to come home at some point, and you didn’t want to risk being away.
But it had been a few days, and he hadn’t come home. Or if he had, you had been at work, and you had missed him. Which you refused to believe had happened, because you refused to believe he was truly gone from your life.
Yet you hadn’t been able to text him, no matter how many times you had started writing him a text. You had written enough texts you could probably compose a poem with them all, but your story didn’t feel like poetry.
It rather felt like some broken pieces of ceramic, that could have been arranged into that mosaic you had glanced at, for a time, as you had kissed. Pieces of ceramic that had been lost in those few days of him being a ghost.
“I need to go home, but I can meet you there later?” you finally replied, glancing at your friend.
You hated the concerned look on Chaeyoung’s features, but you forced yourself to smile, trying to reassure the girl. Trying to convince her that everything was alright.
“As long as you don’t bail…” Chaeyoung trailed off, walking in to help you pick up the few toys that were still scattered around the floor. “I don’t know what happened, Y/n, but you look exhausted.”
You sighed. There was no way you’d be able to convince Chaeyoung you were fine.
“I am. I’ve been for a few days.”
“What happened?” the girl quickly asked, and the concern on her features doubled up.
You sighed, standing up from the place where you had been kneeling. You glanced around the room, trying to find the courage to speak the words that had been haunting you, but you couldn’t find it.
“I haven’t been sleeping well”, you instead chose to say.
Chaeyoung had a no-bullshit look on her face once you finally met her gaze. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t insist, instead shrugging her shoulders and offering you a reassuring smile.
“Well, if you think that getting out of the house for a time would help, I’d be happy to do something more laid back than walking around Hongdae.”
“Don’t cancel your plans for me”, you said, shaking your head as your eyes widened a little.
The last thing you wanted was for more people to be aware that you weren’t doing fine.
“My friends wouldn’t mind, they like you”, Chaeyoung replied, shrugging her shoulders again. “But if you feel like staying home, that is okay too.”
You pursed your lips, nodding slightly. “Thanks, Chaeyoung.” And you really were thankful, because you weren’t quite sure you’d be able to go out.
Were willing to try to get ready, but wanted to be able to bail if you needed to.
Even as you were getting ready, two hours later, sitting in front of the large mirror of your vanity, you still weren’t sure you were going to go. Putting some make-up on felt good, though, as it permitted you to focus on something other than the treacherous thoughts that always led back to Jimin.
To the whole world that was between you now, not because of who you were, but because it felt like the distance between you wasn’t one that could be crossed.
You had just finished applying blush to your cheeks when your doorbell rang, and you froze. Because you knew, then, that the distance had finally become smaller. Still big enough for your heart to ache, but at least the wait was over.
Because, who else would it be but Jimin? Only Chaeyoung knew where you lived, and the girl was currently at a restaurant with her girlfriend and her other friends.
You almost dropped the brush you were holding as you put it down, hands starting to shake as you pushed up to your feet. You left your phone face down on the vanity, before jogging to the door. Hating that you had chosen the room the farthest from your door for your dressing room.
It felt like an eternity, before you reached that door, and you were a little breathless when you threw it open.
Jimin stood there, hands buried in the pockets of his coat, hair a little tousled, as if he’d just tried to tame it, but failed to do so. He was wearing earrings, as he most always did, and the light caught on the silver of them as he looked up to meet your gaze. He too had dark circles under his eyes, ones that you had just hidden on your own face.
“Jimin”, you breathed.
His eyes were still haunted by those shadows, and they went a little wide as you held his gaze.
“Y/n.”
He said your name with a softness that made you feel weak all of a sudden, and you were pretty sure tears were welling up in your eyes.
“You’re an idiot”, you said, and you let out a small chuckle. “Where have you been?”
He swallowed, his Adam apple bobbing up and down.
“I needed time to think”, he replied.
You fell silent, as he looked at a spot over your shoulder, before letting his gaze drop to the floor. It took him a moment before meeting your eyes again, and you felt like dying at the sight of the dark clouds in his gaze.
“I… figured”, you murmured, gulping. “That’s why I didn’t text you.”
“Can I come in?”
You nodded, stepping aside. He walked in, and you breathed in the smell of his cologne before gently closing the door behind him.
“I was… getting ready”, you told him, feeling suddenly very awkward.
At least you had successfully blinked the tears away.
“We can sit in my dressing room?”
Jimin nodded, though he hadn’t met your gaze since he had stepped into your home. He followed you, silent as a mute, and sat in front of the second vanity in the room.
The one in front of which Chaeyoung had gotten ready, all those months ago, the night you had gone clubbing. The night you had stumbled into Jimin’s apartment as if it was your own. The night that had started it all, come to think of it.
“Where are you going?” Jimin asked as you sat back where you had been a moment earlier.
Not feeling like lying, you let the truth come out. “Nowhere.” You paused, as a puzzled expression took over his features. “Now that you’re here”, you specified, and his lips spread into a thin line.
It looked like anything but a smile.
“You can still go, if you want”, he said, before chewing on the dry skin of his bottom lip.
You shook your head no. “I’ve missed you, Jimin. I’d rather stay with you.”
He looked so sad, as you spoke the words. And then it hit you, that he maybe didn’t want to be with you.
Maybe he was there to end your relationship, once and for all.
“I…” he fell silent, his eyes falling to the scattered brushes and make-up items on the vanity. “I missed you too.”
There were some tears in your eyes again, damn you.
“Where were you?” you breathed, eyes not moving from his features.
Engraving them in your memory, and in the mosaic of you.
“I’ve been staying with Hobi-hyung”, he admitted. “I’ve been thinking, about us.”
You audibly gulped this time.
“So have I”, you whispered, and he met your gaze.
“I don’t think we’re good, Y/n”, he declared, after a short silence that lasted for an eternity.
It broke your heart, and you found you couldn’t fight the tears now.
“Oh…”
He just watched you, for a time, as a few tears escaped your eyes.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, as if the sight of those tears on your cheeks was so foreign to him, as if they were a concept he had never understood in school.
“I talked to your mother, before leaving Busan”, you told him.
He remained silent, eyes never leaving yours.
“Why didn’t you tell me you saw me too, the day you met Collin?”
He didn’t move, for a time. Even looked as if he had stopped breathing. But then he let out a small broken sound – a chuckle, maybe.
“Because you would have thought me to be crazy.”
You dried your tears with the back of your hand. “Why would I have?”
He chuckled again, and this time it sounded a little realer. His eyes took on a distant expression, as he focused on the memories of that moment months ago. “Because you were standing with your back to me, in the kitchen. I was in the hallway, and all I could see was your hair. And then you turned to look at your boyfriend, and when I saw your face, I was just struck dumb.”
You didn’t even know when that had happened. Hadn’t seen him at all, standing there. And you were the one to be struck dumb now, at his confession. At the way his words echoed in your head until you felt drunk with them.
“I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and then you smiled at him and I assumed you were taken”, he continued. His eyes had met yours again, and you could see the truth they were shining with. “I felt strange, for a moment, and then Collin turned. He saw me, and he walked to the door, and shut it.”
A pretty girl and her boyfriend.
You remembered that. You had asked why Collin had shut the door, and he had just walked to you and kissed your forehead, before telling you to focus on what the realtor was saying.
“So, I went home”, he added. “And then when I saw you in the elevator, that day you were moving in, I assumed Collin was around. I felt awkward, because I thought he hated me.”
So, that was what it had been. It had never been about the Chimmy keychain or the mess of BTS albums, like you had believed at first. He had just thought you belonged to someone and hadn’t wanted to intrude in your relationship.
“And then I just felt uncomfortable around you, and I was a dick to you and I’m sorry I was. But when you tried getting into my apartment, and you told me what had happened, I just…”
He shrugged, and you only then noticed the silver brimming his gaze.
“I didn’t want to let you go, I guess. And you were fun to be with, so I tried to keep you around.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, as tears rolled freely down your face. He looked at them, before meeting your gaze again.
“I don’t know when I fell in love with you”, he continued, and tears moved on his cheeks too. “I think I’ve always known I’d fall for you, and then one day I realized the feelings were already there. I knew you had recently come out of a relationship, so I didn’t say anything. But that night, I just lost it… Seeing you chat with Sungwoon, seeing him flirt with you, I just hated it.”
Sungwoon had been flirting with you? It hit you then: it was jealousy, that had made Jimin act the way that he had, those few weeks ago.
“And when we kissed, and you left, I thought ‘that is it, your friendship with her is over’”, he admitted, chuckling sadly again. “So, I decided to pretend nothing had happened, and when you did the same thing, I assumed we’d just never talk about it again, and I’d do everything I could to prevent it from happening again.”
You really had been fools.
“Eoma told me she could see the love in my eyes, while we were cooking, and that I was making a mistake, to fall in love with you.”
Your heart squeezed in your chest, and you choked on a sob.
“And maybe I should have told her then”, he added, getting up from his spot to come closer to you, grabbing your hands. “I’ve sacrificed so much to be where I am. I’ve sacrificed friendships and relationships and my own health.” He paused, as if he didn’t want you to be associated with all those shadows in his life. And you were glad he had, because his next words destroyed everything in you, only to build it anew. “I’m not willing to sacrifice you too.”
You got up, letting out a small sad laugh as Jimin smiled.
“I am in love with you, Y/n”, he breathed. “And I want to be with you.”
You blinked away a fresh wave of tears, and he let go of one of your hands, to wipe the tears from your face.
“I thought you were coming here to tell me we were done”, you admitted, and another tear rolled down his cheek.
He chuckled. “I thought so too. But you had to start crying and make me weak.”
His eyes were full of emotions you couldn’t quite interpret, yet you knew they echoed those in your own heart.
“I’ve been weak for you for so long”, you whispered, as you leaned in the hand he had kept against your face.
He laughed, just a little, as you reached to dry his cheek from the lone tear.
“I’ve been weak for you before I even met you.”
He laughed again, and the sound was healing, really.
“You were my bias, you know?” you let out. “But then when I met you, I started hating you, because I thought you were an entitled prick.”
He pursed his lips, holding in a smile.
“And then you took care of me that night, and you were just so friendly I thought you were a completely different person.”
You smiled softly at the memory, and at the warmth that it raised in you.
“You started talking to me, more, and you were so friendly and bubbly. I felt like I was in heaven, for a moment, and you helped me through the grief of Collin, and of him and his new family.”
You thought about it for a time, eyes falling to his neck as you lost your focus on his features.
“I think I saw you like my own little family, for a long time, because you were filling a hole in my chest. And then you started being more, and I started looking for you in every room I was in.”
Maybe you had already been in love with him, then.
“And when we kissed, I felt like it was meant to be”, you said. “Like you were the one I was meant to find. And I guess guilt crept in, about Collin, and I know it’s stupid, but I felt guilty, and I left.”
And it was true. Your thoughts hadn’t gone to Collin, but your body hadn’t recognized Jimin to be the body it was used to, back then, and it had made panic kick in.
“I regret leaving then”, you admitted. “I wish I hadn’t, and I wish I had stayed with you.”
You breathed in and out shakily, as the truth kept flowing out of your mouth.
“I want to be with you too. I’m afraid, because you are you and I am me and there is so many worlds between us.”
He grabbed your face then, ever so gently. Eyes gazing into yours with so much love and adoration you felt as if you could die right then, and die happy.
“I don’t care about any worlds between us”, he whispered. “I just want you.”
“I’ve fallen in love with you, Jimin”, you breathed, and he pressed his lips against yours.
It was terribly soft, that first kiss after the one weeks ago. Like he was scared to make you run again, and he just wanted to get a last taste of you. Without hurting you, like the way one graze their fingers against a flower. Ever so gently, lest the petals be spoiled.
But you weren’t a flower, and you didn’t want to be treated as such. Wanted the desperation that you had been drowning in for the last few days to finally flow out of you. So, you put the feelings in the kiss, letting your lips mesh with his harder, and he breathed out, his hands falling to your waist, pulling you closer.
He tasted salty, from the tears that had been rolling on his cheeks. He tasted of honey, too, a sweet taste that you knew you’d come to love more than anything. And his hands on your waist were warm, hot, and they pulled you ever so closer, until all of your body was pressed against all of his.
You snaked your hands between you, moving to unbutton his coat. He helped you, pulling away for half a second, just enough time to let the coat fall to the floor.
When his lips crashed on yours again, the rhythm of the kiss changed, becoming frantic, as if the desperation had hit him too, and he needed to feel you.
A breathy sound fell from your lips as his tongue met yours, and he made you turn your back towards the wall, pushing you back until your ass hit the vanity. He pulled you up on top of it, and you spread your legs to make space for him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him back into the kiss.
It was heated, that kiss, so heated you thought you were about to burst into flames. Into flames and fireworks and softness, as if it was more the afterglow than the explosion. And it felt like that – like that feeling of awe fireworks leave in one’s heart.
As he kissed you, hands roaming along your thighs, along your waist, you found yourself seeing that mosaic again. The one you had thought you were seeing through tainted glass. Only this time, the mosaic took form in your universe, a sight so beautiful your soul felt full, like it was incomplete until you an Jimin had finally chosen each other. It was beautiful, really, with reds and oranges and purples, along with the blues and lilacs and yellows your friendship had consisted of.
It was so much more than whatever you had had with Collin. Collin had been in your life for a long time, yes, but your soul had never been his, the way that it was Jimin’s.
Jimin moved from your lips to your neck, as you were still clutching his collar. You let it go, fingers moving to run through his hair, pulling at it. He bit your neck, then, gently, but hard enough to elicit a soft moan from your mouth.
He went crazy at the sound. Hands moving underneath your shirt, caressing the skin of your waist, before moving up to your breasts. Heat pooled between your legs as he grinded into you, and you could feel his own arousal against you, the friction making you see stars.
You hadn’t had sex in a long time and perhaps that, more than the feeling of him against you, had you pull away slightly.
“Jimin”, you breathed.
He looked up from your neck, eyes glassy with lust, lips glossy and red and swollen from your ministrations. He seemed slightly scared for a time, until you grabbed his face and pecked his lips once.
That seemed to reassure him, and a soft smile lit up his features.
“Y/n”, he breathed, too, and you felt your heart swell in your chest, with the feelings that you had for him.
“I…” you trailed off, looking between his two eyes. Gazing at the love that was warming them, taking it in and making it yours.
He was yours, and you were his.
“Can we take our time?” you asked, gently. “I haven’t…”
His eyes widened slightly, and he made to pull away, though you kept him from getting too far by wrapping your legs around his waist.
“You’re a virgin?” he asked.
Laughter burst out of you. “What?”
He wasn’t smiling, and he just looked confused.
He was truly adorable.
“I just haven’t had sex in a long time”, you admitted.
And it was true. Even before you and Collin had broken up, you hadn’t really gotten physical. Since…
You didn’t let your heart ache, as you realized he hadn’t really gotten intimate with you again, after October. After he had cheated with Harper.
“Are you okay?” Jimin asked, concern moving in his gaze.
He must have been able to read the feelings on your face.
You nodded. “I am.” You paused, glancing down at his mouth. “Please kiss me again.”
His tongue darted out, to wet his lips. “I won’t be able to go slow, if you tell me stuff like that.”
You didn’t know where your confidence came from, but you let a smirk grow on your lips. “Oh, Jimin-ie… We have all night in front of us, you better take your time.”
A smirk grew on his own lips, as his eyes grew ten times darker. But still they shone from within, with a light you hoped would never leave. “You’re lucky I’ve got a great stamina.”
You snorted, and then blushed as embarrassment raised in your chest at how awkward the sound had been. Until Jimin pecked your nose, the flirtatiousness melting into soft warmth.
“You are so cute”, he breathed against your lips, before kissing you again.
The gentleness of the action made you blush even more, though you fled from the feeling behind it, biting at his lips.
He was goddamn Park Jimin, and you were just you.
The insecurity that it brought to you menaced to shatter the mosaic again, but he chased it away as he kissed you, with more heat than you thought you could handle, until your body caved in to his touch. It was easy then, to let your thoughts dissolve into nothingness, especially as he grinded into you again, and the length of his erection brushed against your clit.
You moaned, a full noise that sounded far too obscene. He swallowed it, his tongue diving in your mouth to meet yours, establishing a rhythm that promised to be a sweet treat to your body.
Your hands pulled at the hem of his shirt, even as you didn’t remember having slid them underneath it, needing to feel the warmth of his skin. He pulled away from the kiss, to take off the piece of clothing, and it met his coat on the floor as your eyes fell to his ‘Never mind’ tattoo. Your fingers gently ran over it, and your heart beat quicker in your chest.
You had never thought you’d be touching his tattoos so intimately one day. Would have called crazy whoever would have said that you were meant to be there, in that mosaic of you.
Your phone chose that moment to start buzzing next to you, startling you. Both your gazes fell to the device, and you stayed still for a time. Until you grabbed the phone, breathing raggedly as you noticed that it was Chaeyoung. You didn’t feel like picking up the call, so you sent your friend to voicemail.
“Let me just text her”, you mumbled, as Jimin’s gaze burned on your face.
He nodded, his hands remaining on your waist as you unlocked your phone, and informed Chaeyoung that you were busy with Jimin, and that you wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.
It was worth the shit-eating smirk that was on Jimin’s lips when you looked up.
“Busy, mmh?” he said, gaze heavy with lust and desire as he looked down at the little space between you.
You nodded, feeling a wave of confidence again. “Maybe we should actually get to work though.” You bit your lip, looking at Jimin through your eyelashes, in a way that you hoped was attractive.
It made you feel awkward, though it seemed to work on Jimin, because he swiftly pulled your shirt off, and you hoped he couldn’t tell the blush on your cheeks was from being embarrassed. Luckily enough for you, his eyes had dropped to your chest, and at the black lacy bralette you were wearing.
“Fuck”, he breathed out. He looked up, meeting your gaze. “You’re so beautiful.”
Now, you felt very shy. Too shy to have him looking at you still, so you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss again. He kissed you sweetly, with his pretty swollen lips, grinding into you for one last time before he stepped back.
“Now, let’s get you out of these pants.”
You gulped, nodding yes because you were pretty sure your voice would have failed you. Jimin unbuttoned your pants, though he didn’t make to pull them down your legs yet. Instead, he let his hand move between your legs, fingers grazing at you through the fabric.
“You’re so hot”, he said, breathing hard.
You whined, as he pressed on your clit, skilled fingers finding it right away.
He smirked, then, male pride evident in his gaze at the sounds he was already coaxing out of you, before pulling your pants down your legs. He gazed at your clothed pussy, only your black panties separating you from his hungry eyes, and you wondered if he could already see the wetness pooling there.
You doubted you had ever been wet like that before, and you had barely even started.
Before moving closer to you again, Jimin unbuckled his belt, eyes boring through yours with an intensity you had never seen in their depths. It made the hotness between your legs burn achily.
His jeans fell to the ground, though he kept his underwear on. He stepped out of the fabric pooling around his ankles, and then moved back between your legs. You blushed as he grabbed your chin to make you look up.
You had been gazing at the imprint of his hard dick.
“Eyes up here, baby”, he said, smirking, before stealing another kiss, one that led to him pushing his erection against you again.
It felt better, now that less fabric laid between you, though it wasn’t enough. You wanted all of him, lest you’d go crazy. Jimin seemed to understand it, because one of his hands found its way between your legs, and he ran his fingers on your clothed pussy, and on the wetness that was seeping through your panties.
“Fuck, Y/n”, he growled, and really, his voice was so low it sounded animalistic. “You’re so fucking wet already.”
“Please”, you breathed, and he smirked.
Smirked and pulled away, eyes going down to your clothed self again.
“I want to taste you.”
“Do it”, you murmured, as he was already kneeling down.
He didn’t wait, didn’t take his time. He pulled your panties to the side, tongue lapping at your entrance, collecting your juices. You moaned, loudly, and your head threw back as your eyes fell shut. One of your hands moved to your breast, pinching at your erect nipple through the fabric, as Jimin started working on you.
If there was one thing that was true about Jimin, it was that he knew how to use his tongue. Indeed, he skillfully found your clit, pressing small circles on it, and before you could even realize it, he slid a finger inside of you, curling it to find that sweet spot that made you see stars.
You moaned, louder, one of your hands moving to his hair, as he established a quick rhythm that had your legs shaking with sensitivity. Soon enough, he buried another of his fingers inside of you, spreading you wide open, and you clenched your walls against him.
You wanted more, and you couldn’t keep your body from telling him.
He sucked on your clit, moaning against you, and this time your pussy clenched by itself, walls holding him tightly inside.
“Fuck”, he said against you, pulling away just enough to look up at you.
You met his gaze, your own half-lidded eyes lost in the bliss of the pleasure he was giving you, and he smirked, lips shining from your wetness, before diving right back in.
Whatever he had been doing before wasn’t even half of what he could do, because this time, his tongue pressed hard against you, moving quickly, eliciting obscene moans from you, sounds tangled with his name as he inched you closer and closer to your orgasm.
And right when it was about to hit, your walls already pulsing against him, Jimin pulled away, leaving you empty. Empty and aching with the denied orgasm.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to take your time?” he asked, teasingly, once your eyes opened to glare at him.
“Fuck”, was all you could mutter back.
Jimin pressed his lips against yours, and you sucked on his bottom lip, moaning at the taste of yourself that still was lingering on his mouth. His fingers were digging in your hips, the pain a slight warning at the back of your mind.
Though you threw the warning away, because it felt way too damn good. His digits didn’t linger there for long, moving up to rid you of your bralette, and his mouth fell to your breast, sucking on it as you moaned again. He looked up, continuing his ministrations against your erect nipple, and you met his gaze, your pussy clenching around nothing. Maybe Jimin could tell, because his fingers found their way back to your pussy, and soon enough he had taken off your panties, fingers pumping in and out of you so quickly you could feel yourself withering away.
You knew you’d be nothing once the orgasm would hit. So, you grabbed onto him, right as he moved his face up and buried it in your neck. You breathed your pleasure in the shell of his ears as his fingers moved in and out, wet pornographic sounds filling the whole room.
“You’re so fucking wet”, he said again, but you barely were able to register it.
You wanted to say yes, but all that you could let out was a broken sound as your orgasm hit you out of nowhere, leaving you to shake with the waves of pleasure that moved through you.
Jimin worked you through the orgasm, thumb moving against your clit as his fingers curled inside of you, and you blinked back tears to look at him, though his face was hung low, forehead against your shoulder. Once he had milked the last of your orgasm from you, he looked up, meeting your gaze.
He looked a little crazed, as if he was in pain, and you understood why as your hand found its way to his dick, palming him through the fabric of his underwear.
He was so hard it had to be painful.
“I want to taste you too”, you murmured, too fucked out to be embarrassed with your words.
He kissed you, wildly, before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “Later”, he said, and he breathed it out like a promise. “For now I just want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name again.”
You hadn’t been aware you were screaming his name in the first place, but you didn’t have time to say it before he pulled you to your feet, turning you around until he had you bending over the vanity. You watched him take off his underwear in the mirror, your pussy still pulsing a little. Next thing you knew he was burying himself inside of you, so hard your thighs hit the vanity, and you screamed a moan, right as he groaned.
He was bigger than you had expected, and the stretching burned, though he remained still, to give you time to adjust. Or maybe just that had been enough to bring him close to the edge, and he had to refrain from moving otherwise he’d come.
His hands were on your hips, and you risked another look in the mirror, knowing fully well he was already looking at you.
Seeing Park Jimin, right there, impaling you, almost was enough to make you come again.
“Don’t clench around me like that”, he grunted, and he sounded as if he was in pain.
His eyes fell shut, and he started moving inside of you, ever so slowly. Slowly inching out, until he pushed all the way in again. You moaned, and his fingers tightened on your skin, before one of his hands loosened its grip, to gently run against the skin of your back.
“I don’t want to hurt you”, he murmured.
Your words finally found you again. “You’re not hurting me.”
His eyes flashed open at the sound of your voice, and you found you couldn’t hold his gaze. Not when he was fucking into you as slowly as he was.
“How do you like it?” he asked, and he bent over to press a kiss on the back of your shoulder before straightening again.
It made you feel warm inside, a feeling that cut through the lust you were drowning in, only to disappear as he started pounding into you.
“Fast?” he asked, before slowing down. “Or like this?”
When you remained silent, Jimin slapped your ass, and you moaned his name.
“As much as I love hearing you say my name like that, you haven’t answered my question, haven’t you?”
You whimpered as he slapped your ass again. Not enough to hurt, but just enough for your skin to tingle with the sting. “I want you to feel good”, you replied.
He stilled inside of you. “Look at me.”
You hadn’t even realized you had shut your eyes.
His gaze was soft when you met it. “No matter how we do it, I’ll feel good inside your tight pussy.”
It was crass, how he said the words, and it only turned you on even more.
“Then fuck me, Jimin”, you said, because really you couldn’t look at him any longer.
And so he did, pounding inside of you until he had you seeing stars, a second orgasm threatening to push you over the edge. You kept it in, knowing you’d be too ruined if you came again, especially as you were already turning sore. You wanted him to feel good before you’d let yourself go like that again.
His balls slapped against your clit as he fucked you, a strange music resonating in the room, and you held onto the sides of your vanity as he pushed harder and harder, your tits resting flat against the brushes and make-up items on the furniture. You could barely feel them there, your whole focus solely on the space between your legs, and the way he was moving inside of you, stretching you.
“You feel so good”, he praised you, and you moaned your agreement, which had him chuckling.
It felt so normal, so casual, that your heart swelled in your chest, tears moving in your gaze.
“I love you”, you breathed, unable to stop the words before they had moved out of your mouth.
He stopped pounding into you then, meeting your gaze, his own eyes creasing at the corners with fondness and love. “Y/n…”
You held his gaze for a time, until you found you couldn’t anymore. Your eyes fell shut, and you wondered if it was tears that were filling the space under your lids.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, gently, once again bending to kiss your shoulder.
“You feel so good”, you said, echoing his previous words.
He hadn’t moved from your shoulder when he spoke again. “You look in pain.”
You weren’t in pain, honestly. You were just overwhelmed with your feelings for him, and you were too much of a coward to meet his gaze.
“I am not”, you promised. “Can we move to my room?”
The question felt appropriate, aimed to make him drop his concern. And it worked, as he pulled away, leaving you empty, and he pulled you up, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kissed the side of your neck.
You shivered, tilting your head to the side, allowing him to move up your skin until he was sucking on the spot bellow your ear.
“I love you too”, he murmured against you, before kissing the hickey he had just created on your skin.
Another piece of the mosaic that was yours.
You turned in his arms, then, pressing your lips against his, kissing him until you felt so drunk with him you couldn’t even remember your own name. He picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, lips still pressed against yours.
He took a few unsteady steps towards the exit of the room, before stopping as he chuckled in the kiss. The sound was sweet and innocent even though you were butt-naked and had just been fucking like there was no tomorrow. It made you love him even more, and you wrapped your arms around his neck tighter to hold him close to you.
You never wanted to be away from him again.
He pulled away from your lips, to look over your shoulder. “As much as I love kissing you, I’ll have to look where I’m going or we’ll both end up on the floor.”
You laughed then, an airy sound that didn’t even seem like it belonged to you. As he walked, you pressed your lips against the spot where his neck met his shoulder, his earring tickling your face as you sucked on the skin, giving him a hickey in return for the one he had just put on your own skin.
He hissed, hands tightening their grip on your ass, as he finally reached your room. He carried you to your bed, putting you down before straightening. You looked up at him, then, eyes full of love and desire. He grabbed your cheeks, thumbs brushing against your skin gently, before bending down to press a sweet kiss on your lips.
“Why don’t you make place for me, mmh?” he asked against your lips, before straightening and motioning to the pillows on the other side of the bed.
You obeyed, and soon enough Jimin was hovering over you, one hand holding him up as he kneeled between your legs, his erection resting against your pelvis.
“You are so beautiful”, he murmured again, and it sounded like a prayer, like you were the god to his religion.
It made you feel shy again, and your eyes shut, instinctively.
He brushed your cheek with his knuckles, ever so gently, coaxing you to open your eyes. Only you didn’t, your insecurity meeting you full force.
How could you be having sex with Park Jimin? You were no one and…
“Look at me, Y/n”, he said, murmuring the words against your lips.
He was so close you could feel his mouth moving against yours.
“You’re intimidating to look at”, you replied, truthfully.
That made him move away, far enough for his breath to be a ghost on your skin, barely even warm from the distance.
“What?” he let out.
“Why me?” you asked, then, as you truly wondered. It was hard to believe someone like Jimin wanted to be with someone like you.
“Y/n…” he breathed, and he pecked your forehead, a sweet act that was purely done out of his love for you.
A pretty girl and her boyfriend.
“Because to me, you’re the prettiest girl in the world. The only one I see, the only one I want, and the one I want to spend my life with.” He pecked your nose then, before pulling away again. “You’re the one I am in love with, and no girl will ever compare to you.” He pecked your lips. “No one can ever compare to you.”
You are the mosaic of my soul.
It was the confirmation that you had needed, and your insecurity slowly dwindled away, replaced by the warmth he brought to your heart.
You made love then, gaze lost in each other’s, in the stars Jimin’s eyes held and the love you shared. The shadows had long left Jimin’s gaze, and they were shining, glowing with pure love and happiness, and desire. So much desire you truly felt like the prettiest girl in the world.
You hoped his shadows and clouds would never come back. Promised yourself you wouldn’t let them come back, whatever it took.
Jimin moved slowly, inside of you, until you reached another orgasm, one that took its origin in that pure feeling you shared, an orgasm that had him toppling over the edge too, spilling inside of you.
And he stayed there, for a long time, gazing into your eyes. He had long gone soft when he pulled out, his seed spilling from you. He stayed close, pressing soft kisses on your cheeks and lips, until you were giggling and blushing.
“You are adorable”, he said, and you moved your hands to his ribs… tickling him.
He yelped, pulling away from you. “Traitor”, he said, between two laughs.
It made you laugh a little more, as he sat on the side of your bed.
It was a strange sight to see. A naked Park Jimin, in your bedroom. In the place where no one but you had ever been before. The place where no one but you two would be from now on.
You turned, lying on your belly, as you looked up at him. His eyes trailed on your body appreciatingly, landing on your ass.
“I knew you had a nice ass but, fuck, the real sight is much better than what I had anticipated”, he said, teasingly, before slapping your ass for emphasis and getting up.
“Hey!” you let out, laughing as he took a single step away, and your eyes fell to his own ass. “You’re one to talk, with the dump truck you’re carrying around.”
Jimin spun around, eyes wide as he met your gaze. You burst out laughing at the same time, and you felt warm and happy and complete.
There was no more beautiful feeling in this world.
“Come, let’s get cleaned up”, he said, offering you a hand to help you stand up.
Grabbing his extended hand felt like a promise. It felt like you had just finished making the mosaic of you, and you were finally ready to gaze at the whole piece of art.
It was a promise, that you’d be together, from now on until the end.
I want to be with you.
Jimin’s words echoed in your mind.
I want to be with you too.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
AAAH. Thank you for reading me. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed building the story for these two. It was fun, though the beginning was excruciating to write. Hopefully it didn’t feel like that to read it!!
Let me know what you thought of the fic! Feedback is always appreciated, and a good source of motivation for writing more stories like that ;). I might also start a taglist so let me know if you want to be added to that!
Anyways, love you lots, thank you again for reading me <3
#park jimin#park jimin fanfic#park jimin smut#park jimin fluff#park jimin angst#park jimin fanfiction#park jimin fic#park jimin x reader#park jimin x you#bts pjm#pjm x reader#i want to be with you
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taehyung : I'm taller
jimin : I'm cuter
taehyung : that's differen-
jimin : people prefer dogs over giraffes
taehyung :
namjoon : jimin has a point though
#bts jungkook#bts taehyung#bts jimin#bts namjoon#bts hoseok#bts yoongi#bts seokjin#bts jin#bts suga#bts jhope#bts rm#bts park jimin#bts pjm#bts v#bts jk#aesthetic#bts army#bts incorrect quotes#kpop#bts incorrect texts#incorrect kpop quotes#incorrect quotes#instagram#bts in the soop#bts in the military#bts instagram#bts imagines#bts#writing#reading
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Request: can you write where OC who is in the police force/ a detective and trying to catch the world notorious mafia king (no one knows what he looks like). OC found an injured jimin and helped him. Jimin became madly obsessed with oc, stalked oc and kidnapped oc and made oc his
Ｗｉｃｋｅｄ Ｇａｍｅｓ ＰＪＭ
Synopsis - Your a new detective who gets put on a rough case to solve a string of cocaine over doses.
Pairing - Yandere! Jimin x Fem! Reader
Featuring - Toni Braxton, Jackson Wang (Begrudgingly.)
Tags and Warnings - Drug mentions, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Jimin being a little bit mean, sexual tones towards the end
Authors Note - I need to write more mob boss fics. Tis was fun.
A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!
Your office was blistering cold as you stared at a huge file on your desk.
You were tasked with connecting and solving a string of cocaine related deaths. Your boss, the police chief Toni, had gave you the case hoping to give you experience with a big case rather than a little one for your first case under the detective title.
But the scenes you saw with this case haunted you. Slacked jaws and frothing mouths. All while the environments around them showed their hopeless situation. You felt bad for the men, probably all dealing with addiction.
You were shaken from your thoughts as the door opened, Toni handing in a weeks worth of lab data. “The lab work for the coke came back. All of the various samples provided were all of the same, and get this, were all stronger and more concentrated.”
“That would make sense, all these men who died we're big named in the crime world.” You added standing up, grabbing both badge and gun. “That would make all the deaths planned! I'm going out, doing one last swoop of some of the crime scenes. I think I'm looking past a bigger picture.”
“Well who do you think it is?"
“I don't know. But I think it's a power play thing. I just need to do investigate more! got this!” You said rushing out of your office, leaving a stunned Toni.
She began to look at your board, seeing towards the end of your board a blank face with the name Jimin written in red ink. He had no connection to the case, but you were considering him.
Toni took a deep breath before shaking her head. “This can't be good...God please protect her…”
🔍
As you drove down to the first crime scene, you tried to clarify any leads as who it could possibly be. This has been your focus for the last week, and you had to prove your worth to Toni. It was a personal goal, but hopefully a goal that would be in good favor.
When you pulled into the first crime scene, the place was obviously a party house. The yard and peeking inside, were both messy. Jackson Wang's body was found here, a known crime boss and partier. This was probably one of his go to rental spaces for parties.
You walked past the yellow tape and glanced at the main room. It reeked of booze and death. The table that sat right in front of Jackson's deathbed was still messy as the night of his death. What's a better place to start looking again rather than here?
The table had split drinks, which were now sticky, all over it. But what caught your eye was a brown paper bag. Upon a closer examination, there was a small “P” written on the top. You rose a brow at that. Then you picked it up, looking inside to see more coke.
What drug dealer would mark their works at a and then leave it there once the area became a crime scene? Wouldn't they want to get rid of any connection to the death? More so why hadn't the police picked it up during their first sweep through? Toni was initially over this case, and she didn't seem to be the type to leave crucial evidence behind.
You slipped on a glove and picked up the brown paper bag, putting it into a small zip lock bag you'd brought. Maybe this would be the key to figuring out the cases? You’d just have to visit the other spots and see if the bag was there as well.
Upon your way out you heard a loud gutteral yell. You followed the sound seeing a dark haired man holding his abdomen. He hissed as he slid down the wall. His assailant hurried off, but you didn't have time to chase him up on close inspection of the injured man. Blood began to seep through his shirt.
“Holy shit! Sir, I…I'm going to bring you to the nearest hospital. Just hold onto me while I bring you to my car.” He gave you a small nod, almost as if he had a choice in the matter. You refused to let this man die.
You got down to his side, grabbing his arm to lift him up. You carried his body to the back seat of your car. He kept hissing and groaning, but you settled him down with a cold water bottle you had. “Keep this on or near the wound. It will slow down your blood flow so you don't lose as much.” You then quickly got in and cranked the engine, setting the car to drive.
🔍
Jimin laid in the hospital bed, eyes trained to his right, watching as you slept. The amount of love he held for you, reached no boundaries. Jimin knew he was obsessed, but it's not like he could do anything about it.
Once Jimin saw something he wanted, he had to have it.
Jimin had everything planned out.
The police station was already deep in his grasp majority of them being corrupt and self serving. Especially Toni.
Police Chief Toni Braxton was one of his ex’s. It was a relationship that ended months ago and something he didn't miss. However he knew for a fact she missed him.
All it took was hint the possibility of getting back together. And with that Toni almost immediately to fell into her place for his plan.
“Jimin, I still love you. I know I shouldn't but I do.” Toni told him. He knew if he visited her apartment, she would be all over him again. Which was correct, as she was already on his lap, and he hadn't been there not even 30 minutes.
“Oh baby, I'm willing to bring back what we had. I missed all this.” Jimins hand grasped at her ass hard, knowing she'd bruise. Toni let out a small gasp as Jimin continued. “I just need you to do a small favor for me.”
“Anything for you. You know that.”
“You know that new detective you promoted baby? I want her on my case.” Jimin said leaning into Toni's neck, leaving small hickies.
“Why?” She gasped out. Her hand went to his face, pushing his eyes to meet hers. She placed her forehead on his own, lips almost about to connect.
“You know I don't wanna get caught now? She won't be able to catch me, catch us. Just do it until I get things together, then we can have that life we always talked about.” And with that Jimin connected her lips, sealing his ask with a small hot and heavy makeout.
That marked down Toni, next he needed to play hurt. But he knew he couldn't just fake being seriously hurt. He'd already contacted the hospital about his plan, in hope that they'd receive a small extra shipment of what he has to offer.
So he got one of his guys to stab him in the alley by that dickhead Jackson's place. He knew you'd have to revisit as he made sure to leave some things missing from the initial crime scene. Once Jimin saw you, he waited a few minutes before whispering a small now for his man to stab him.
And it hurt.
It fucking felt like he'd been shot, but ten times worse. The stab wasn't deep but still.
But he was relieved as he saw your worried expression come into view.
All of that hard work led to now, him watching your slumbering face. You'd refused to leave his side upon arrival and he couldn't be more grateful for it. You had such a sweet heart. More so you couldn't see the game he was playing.
He was so rudely pulled from his gaze as Toni walked in, brown locs pulled into a pony tail. She took off her uniform seemingly to present herself to him. Her white button down had a few unbuttoned near the top and her pants hugged her curves just right.
It left such a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Jimin! I heard you were hurt.” She turned around looking at your passed out form in the chair. “She's still here?”
“Yeah. Why are you here Toni? The hospital doesn't play with visitors. They're allowing her to stay as mine right now.” He rambled on.
A lie.
But just maybe he could piss her off enough to where she could go on her own accord. But Toni only came closer hands resting on his shoulder.
“I know, I just worry about you. Shes begun to piece things together.” Toni kissed at his temple. “I just hope she doesn't end up getting hurt. I can't have you go to jail for murder now.”
Jimin shrugged Toni away. “Just not right now. I'm actually fucking hurting and all you can think about is her. Obsessed much?”
Hypocrite.
Toni took a step back before letting out a huff. “Fine. I'll text you later whenever your not being a asshole. Make sure my detective gets back safe.”
Jimin knew damn well he was going to do the exact opposite. In fact she was never going to see him nor you ever again. As soon as Toni walked through the door, she just about secured his and your future together.
“Don't worry baby, I got some men coming get us. It's going to be so nice. I'm happy your played along with all this. I love you.”
#dark writing#tw dark content#tw yandere#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere blog#pjm#bts pjm#yandere bts#bts yandere#dark bts#yandere Jimin#yandere park jimin#dark park Jimin#dark Jimin
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𑇛 ֹ ﹙✩﹚ ׅ ⏆ 𝆬
˖ ࣪. My heart's so sour without you 𓇻 𓂂 ★
# ✧ ﹒ ♡ ⁺ ៹ ﹒ ♡ ﹒ ✧ ₊ #vmin layouts#vmin packs#vmin icons#bts#moodboard#taehyung#jimin#jimin icons#taehyung layouts#kim taehyung#park jimin#bts pjm#jimin bts#taehyung bts#messy moodboard#icons kpop#jhope#jeon jungkook#jungkook#edgycore#edgy style#random#bts layouts#kpop loockscreen#kpop lq moodboard#lq bts#grunge aesthetic#grungy style#bts moodboard
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like or reblog.
#bts jimin#jimin lq#bts pjm#park jimin#jimin icons#jimin icons lq#jimin layouts#bts park chimchim#jimin#jimin moodboard#jimin ost#jimin jimin#icons park jimin#bts lq icons#lq bts icons#lq bts#bts icons#jimin low quality#jimin dark icons#jimin smut#jimin smile#jimin packs#jimin park#kpop icons#kpop lq packs
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cr to the creators of the hearders
★ . . like or reblog.
#jimin lips#jimin icons#park jimin#jimin layouts#lq jimin#jimin long bios#jimin packs#jimin moodboard#jimin bios#pjm packs#pjm layouts#bts layouts#pjm users#pjm icons#bts pjm#bts icons#bts pics#bts packs#bts lq icons#bts moodboard#bts jimin#coquette users#y2k moodboard#grunge icons#grunge layouts#nature moodboard
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Stuck in a Snowstorm (m) | pjm
*Part of 'the winter collection'. Read part two. Part three coming soon!
Summary: You don’t know how you ended up here. Stuck with your mortal enemy, Park Jimin, in you car – in a fucking snowstorm.
Pairing: Jimin x female reader
AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut.
Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.
Word count: 6,1K
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings (general) + triggers: Jimin is just a mean jerk and reader is a brat 😂 Lots of banter, crack and anger towards each other.
Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial/delay, hair pulling, oral (female and male receiving), breasts and nipple play. Also, use of a tie 👀
Author’s note: This is actually a story that I planned to write all the way back in 2017 – better late than never, right? 😂 I had only made the plot with some outline, so I basically started from scrap. But it had been stuck in my mind since FOREVER and now I just miss Jimin a shit ton, so I made this. I hope you enjoy it! Also, it shouldn’t be taken too seriously, it’s just smut with minimal plot and don’t question the characters bad actions or some minor plot holes 😂 (Also, I did not proofread this, just because).
Also, merry Christmas / happy holidays – this is my gift to you wonderful people out there 💜
AND are you guys looking forward to Jimin’s ‘Closer than This’ tomorrow???? 💜
If you prefer to read on AO3 you can read it here 😀
“I can’t believe this…” in disbelief, you mutter, your voice tinged with uncertainty, while you desperately activate the windshield wiper, yearning for even a fleeting glimpse through the thick curtain of falling snow.
“I can,” Jimin declares from his spot beside you in the passenger seat. His playful critique follows swiftly, delivered with a pout and a firm voice, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “You're a terrible driver.”
“Am not!” you retort defiantly, your voice cutting through the air, even as your unwavering gaze remains fixed on the snowy expanse ahead.
A curtain of thick snow descends, veiling everything in an opaque white shroud. The road ahead is swallowed by the relentless onslaught, turning visibility into an elusive challenge.
Your hands clench the wheel with a vice-like grip, the strain evident as your knuckles whiten under the pressure. The tension in your entire body is so palpable that it hurts to fucking drive.
Exhaustion weighs on you heavily, a relentless burden, yet the realization hits that you're only halfway to your friends' Christmas party. Two more hours loom ahead, a daunting stretch of time spent in the company of Park Jimin, your sworn enemy.
The decision to share a car ride is a mystery even to yourself; perhaps it was a fleeting concern for the planet, a noble intention to save fuel by consolidating into one vehicle. Yet, as the journey unfolds, the real reasons behind your choice become an enigma.
Regret courses through you like a bitter undercurrent as you ponder the altruistic intentions behind considering the planet and the environment. The thought of advising Jimin to take his own car nags at you, a missed opportunity for a peaceful solo drive. In a self-cursing moment, you rue your own kindness.
“Let me drive; I’m a better driver than you anyway.” Jimin declares with casual confidence, his tone carrying an air of nonchalance.
“Fuck off, Jimin!” you hiss, frustration dripping from your words like venom.
You squint against the relentless assault of heavy snow, the world outside morphing into an indistinct blur as visibility dwindles.
Your pace is deliberate, a cautious dance with the road, but after several minutes, you relent, succumbing to the inevitable by slowing down even further.
“Fine!” you declare, seizing the steering wheel in a determined clench, bringing the car to an abrupt halt.
You pivot your gaze towards Jimin, the words cutting through the tension, “You fucking drive then.”
Shifting the car into park, you unclip your seatbelt with a determined click, swing the door open, and brave the biting embrace of the freezing snowstorm outside.
In synchronized movements, Jimin mirrors your actions, and together, you step out into the frigid air. The two of you converge outside, a silent agreement palpable in the crunch of snow beneath your feet, as you navigate around the car, preparing to swap seats.
“If you crash my car, I’ll kill you.” you menace, venom seeping through your words as you stride past him, positioning yourself in front of the vehicle.
He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, a smug satisfaction evident in his demeanor, relishing the fact that you've conceded to let him take the wheel.
Jimin confidently eases his plump figure into the driver's seat, and you avert your gaze (definitely not looking!). With a self-assured demeanor, he expertly adjusts the seat to accommodate his frame.
You attempt to thaw your chilled hands under the blast of hot air from the air conditioner, the sour mood hanging heavy around you as you settle into the passenger seat, donning a visible pout.
“Relax, I’m not gonna crash your precious car,” he teases, the playfulness evident in his voice, just before smoothly shifting the car into gear and forging ahead.
In response, a huff escapes your lips, arms instinctively crossing in a silent declaration of your lingering displeasure.
You surrender to a sense of ease as Jimin takes the wheel, his deliberate pace aligning with caution. It's a mutual understanding — in this snow-laden terrain, slow and steady becomes a shared creed for safety.
The once teasing atmosphere now gives way to palpable tension, the air thick with the weight of swirling snow that has intensified. Jimin, too, struggles visibly against the heavier onslaught, the challenge of navigating through the snow turning the car into a place of shared unease.
Your gaze fixates on Jimin, observing as his fingers clench the steering wheel with a tension mirroring your own, and his shoulders stiffen in sync. A chuckle escapes you, unexpectedly audible, as you notice the ironic similarity between his reaction and your earlier demeanor.
“What’s so funny?” Jimin spits, the tension reverberating unmistakably in his voice, each word a note in the symphony of strained emotions.
“Your driving,” you start to chuckle, the amusement laced with a hint of mischief.
“You're not exactly outclassing my skills,” you declare, sinking into the seat with a self-assured smirk, relishing the satisfaction of your own driving prowess.
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” he seethes, the words charged with anger, his gaze sharply turning towards you, locking onto your eyes.
Despite Jimin's cautious speed, the car subtly veers, casting doubt on whether you're still on the road or lost in the oblivion of the thick snow. The blinding white landscape offers no clarity, leaving you uncertain and immersed in a disorienting wintry haze.
“I can’t see fucking shit!” he exclaims, abruptly bringing the car to a halt and cutting the engine in an instant, plunging you both into an eerie silence amid the obscured surroundings.
Your gaze locks onto him, urgency etched across your face. “What are you doing? We've got Seokjin's Christmas party in less than an hour!” The frustration in your voice reverberates, a ticking clock amplifying the stakes of the impending deadline.
“It’s not safe to drive in this freaking snowstorm!” he bellows in response, frustration escalating in his voice, punctuated by the sharp flick of the hazard warning lights, signaling the urgency and danger of the situation.
“I just want to get there already. I'd rather not be stuck with you,” you seethe, teeth gritted, a visible huff escaping in a cloud of anger. The tension hangs heavy, fueled by the biting words that linger in the now frosty air.
“Like I'd willingly be stuck with your sour attitude,” he retorts, his gaze sweeping you from head to toe for some inscrutable reason. “I don't even like you,” he declares, the words loaded with an unspoken tension that hangs in the frosty air between you two.
You gape at him, the bitter truth resonating in the air—an unspoken agreement that neither of you harbors any liking for the other. The animosity between you has solidified into a hostile dynamic, despite the shared circle of friends that consistently throws you together, much to your enduring displeasure.
Jimin exudes an infuriating level of cockiness, ceaselessly pushing your buttons and expertly tapping into the art of annoyance until it feels like your nerves are unraveling at his mere presence.
You'd willingly brave the biting cold rather than endure the prospect of an unpredictable future confined with him inside the car. Fate seems to revel in mocking you, as the car rapidly succumbs to the encroaching chill, each passing minute intensifying the unwelcome cold that now permeates the confined space.
You clutch your arms tightly around your body, desperately running your hands up and down in a futile attempt to gather some warmth. A curse slips from your lips as you question your own sanity—why in the world did you take off your jacket for the drive? Now it's trapped in the damn trunk, and the thought of braving the freezing cold to retrieve it is utterly unappealing.
“Cold?” he chuckles, the sound carrying an edge of amusement that only amplifies the chill sinking into your bones.
You nod your head.
“Well, I’m not giving you my jacket,” he states matter-of-factly, cocooning himself in the evident warmth of his puffer jacket. Damn Park Jimin and his infuriating nonchalance, he's truly a master of being a jerk!
“Can't even manage a simple act of kindness,” you mutter with disdain, the words escaping in a sharp hiss, a low and almost grumbling tone, accompanied by a dismissive eye roll.
“What's that?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, relishing the snug warmth of his jacket while you shiver in the cold.
“Fuck you, Park!” you shout directly in his face, your words laced with frustration. Instead of a retort, he just chuckles, the sound taking on a manic edge that lingers in the frosty air, leaving an unsettling resonance to your heated exchange.
An indeterminate amount of time slips away, lost in the relentless snowfall that shows no sign of relenting. Frustration building, you reach for your phone and decide to text Seokjin, realizing that this damn snow isn't planning on letting up anytime soon.
You [15.42]: Stuck in a snowstorm with fucking Park Jimin. I don’t know when we’ll arrive 🙄
Jin [15.48]: Just stay safe 😂
Fuck Seokjin! You’re convinced that he’s somewhere enjoying a good laugh at your misfortune.
A surge of realization hits you like a bolt of inspiration—there's a blanket tucked away in the backseat. Swiftly moving up, you make your way to the center console.
“What’re you doing?” Jimin questions, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his eyebrow as you navigate over the center console, leaving him bewildered by your sudden, mysterious movements.
“There's a blanket back here,” you announce triumphantly, finally laying hands on the sought-after comfort. With a satisfying plop into the seat, you tug the blanket snugly over your cold body, a gesture that transforms the atmosphere within the car from chilly discomfort to a brief oasis of warmth.
After a few contemplative minutes, Jimin breaks the silence with a question that hangs in the air, “Mind if I join you?”
Your mouth falls agape, and your eyes widen in astonishment at his unexpected question. Collecting yourself, you respond with a hint of sarcasm, “You weren't keen on sharing your jacket with me. What makes you think I'd be willing to share my blanket with you?” The tension between you and Jimin escalates with each word, hanging palpably in the cold air.
Without a pause for your response, he defies the silence, navigating over the center console with the same determined crawl you had exhibited moments before. The unspoken tension between you both amplifies, turning the confined space into an arena of silent rivalry.
Seated beside you, he makes a grab for the blanket cocooning your shivering form. Resolute, you refuse to surrender it, your hands engaging in a tug of war with him.
“Share, you brat,” he hisses with a mix of irritation and amusement, his determination evident in the forceful tug at the blanket.
“No!” you hiss back defiantly, the word laced with a stubborn refusal as you hold your ground.
With a forceful yank, he wrenches the blanket from your grasp, and in the struggle, he ends up with it draped across his lap. The victorious outcome of the skirmish leaves a charged atmosphere between you and Jimin, the warmth of the blanket now a coveted prize in his possession.
A triumphant smirk plays on his lips as he envelops himself in the captured blanket. His eyes lock onto your moping expression before descending further, a mischievous gleam indicating that his victory goes beyond the simple conquest of the blanket.
“I can totally see your nipples,” he chuckles.
You glance down, and sure enough, your nipples stand out against the satin material of your dress. Swiftly, you react, pressing your hands over your breasts in a sudden move to conceal their visibility.
“Why the fuck are you look at my tits?” you yell at him, your frustration audible, but he merely chuckles in response.
“You must really be freezing, huh?” he observes, and you simply nod in agreement, a silent acknowledgment of the biting cold that permeates the confined space.
“I can warm you up,” he suggests with a playful wink, both eyes and eyebrows conspiring in unison. The underlying implication of his words hangs in the air, and you instantly grasp the nature of his playful proposition.
“I'm not that desperate, Park,” you scoff with a hint of disgust, the rejection laced with a prideful undertone. In response, he simply chuckles, finding amusement in your candid dismissal.
Following his suggestive remark, an electric charge seems to surge through the atmosphere in the car. Your mind involuntarily races, envisioning the prospect of warming up next to him, his hands tracing every contour of your body, his di—
Stop. You admonish yourself sternly, a mental command to cease the vivid thoughts involving him. He's your enemy, you remind yourself, emphasizing the intense dislike you harbor for Park Jimin. The internal conflict heightens, the struggle between attraction and animosity weaving a complex web within your mind.
His chuckle resonates beside you, a sound that grates on your nerves. Irritation mounts, and you sharply turn your head towards him, your annoyance evident in the flicker of your gaze.
“Need help?” he inquires, his gaze suddenly deepening, the darkness in his eyes unveiling a subtle intensity that lingers in the air.
“With what?” you spit back at him, the confusion evident in your tone.
“You're grinding against the seat,” he bluntly points out, his gaze fixed on your crotch. You glance down, discovering your unconscious movement against the fabric of the seat. A sudden realization dawns, and an expletive slips from your lips.
A wave of discomfort washes over you, an intense desire to squirm and disappear into the ground, engulfed by the embarrassment that now saturates the air. The profound sense of shame hangs heavy, making the moment so excruciatingly humiliating.
You inhale sharply, drawing in a breath that seems to shudder through you, and with a deliberate move, you roll your hips once more.
“No…” you murmur, the word escaping with a shaky uncertainty that even your own ears can detect.
Jimin scoots closer to you, the warmth radiating from his body sending sparks that seem to dance through yours.
He leans into you, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, and in a breathy whisper, he offers, “I can help you with that.”
His words alone send a jolt through your body, a sudden tightening that ignites a fiery sensation. Damn it. The internal conflict and desire entwine, creating a tumultuous storm within you in the presence of him. It's undeniable—your entire being yearns for the touch you never thought you'd crave.
His warm hand finds its way to your thigh, and a low moan escapes your lips at the contact. Fuck.
His hand ventures down to the hem of your dress, grabbing and pulling it back to expose more of your thighs. A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air embraces your newly exposed skin, and a hiss escapes your lips. However, the sensation is quickly replaced by a different kind of warmth as his hand cups your clothed core. A breathless expletive escapes your lips, leaving your mind in a blissful blank state.
Instantly, you feel the warmth of his hand intimately against you, and your head falls back against the seat involuntarily. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you respond to the touch, unable to resist rolling your hips into the sensation.
“You’re needy,” he breathes against your ear, the words carrying a provocative weight that reverberates through you.
His warm breath sends a cascade of shivers down your spine, clouding your thoughts in a haze of desire. The desire for release intensifies, eclipsing any reservations you may have about seeking it from your mortal enemy.
“Shut up and just touch me,” you utter in frustration, the words punctuated by the deliberate grind of your hips into his hand, a desperate quest for any kind of friction. You're acutely aware of the desperation seeping through your actions, but at this moment, you don’t give a fuck.
And touch you he does. His fingers begin to rub your clit over the fabric of your panties, and you don't hold back your moans.
Your hips gyrate, a rhythmic dance in pursuit of your impending orgasm. The sensation builds rapidly, a cascade of pleasure on the brink. The question lingers in your mind—why does your body respond so eagerly to his touch?
He tugs your panties to the side, his touch on your clit eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. The warmth of his fingers against your skin amplifies the sensation, and you're already soaked.
“You're so wet already,” he chuckles against your ear, his lips teasingly grazing your skin. The desire to retaliate surges within you, but then, with a sudden and deliberate movement, one of his fingers enters your pussy, stealing your breath away.
He skillfully fingers you with one finger, the motion of his wrist simultaneously stroking against your clit, creating a sensation that's nothing short of delicious. The desire for more intensifies, an insatiable craving building within you.
“More,” you breathe, your voice escaping chapped and laden with a raw, lustful edge.
Jimin adds one more digit, and you relish in the precision with which he finds your soft spot, hitting it perfectly.
“Are you gonna come on my fingers?” he whispers in your ear, the suggestive question sending an instant jolt through your body, a yearning for more.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as you willingly spread your legs wider, granting him more space.
He deftly introduces a third finger into you, and you feel yourself losing control, swept away by the overwhelming pleasure. It's already so good—how is he so skilled with his fingers?
The way he skillfully uses his fingers inside you while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his wrist propels you relentlessly toward the precipice of climax. The knot in your stomach tightens, and you're on the verge of that intoxicating release.
“Jimin, fuck. I'm gonna come soon,” you pant, the urgency in your voice underscored by the rhythmic grind of your pussy against his hand.
He accelerates the pace of his fingers inside you, bringing you to the brink, but just as your body teeters on the edge of release, he abruptly withdraws his fingers and hand altogether.
His fingers and hand vanish, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. The abrupt absence intensifies the frustration and desire you feel surge through your body. Fuck!
Your legs tremble beneath you, and a frustrated hiss escapes your lips as you pant for breath.
“You didn't want to share the blanket,” he spews, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your evident frustration.
You're on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger. The desperate desire for release compounds the emotional turmoil within you. The audacity of him! The frustration boils over, cementing Jimin as nothing short of a fucking jerk in your mind.
“I'm not letting you come unless you beg for it,” he adds in a smug voice, a smirk playing on his lips as he purposefully puts some distance between you.
You can't believe him. The brink of pleasure was within reach—just a few more rubs and you would have unraveled on his fingers. The yearning is palpable, a frustrating ache that intensifies with each passing moment.
You growl at him, caught in a heated internal debate about whether to plead with him or not.
Your pussy clenches around emptiness, a visceral reminder of your desperation.
“Please, Jimin. Please let me come,” you implore, locking eyes with him and turning your body toward him. The desperation in your gaze is palpable. Almost inadvertently, you press your chest closer, your stiff nipples drawing his gaze downward.
He licks his lips teasingly, a wicked glint in his eyes, before seizing your hips and drawing you irresistibly toward him. With a swift yet controlled motion, he manipulates your body, guiding you to lie on the seat. As you settle into the unexpected position, he chuckles at the genuine confusion etched across your face.
“Because you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and in a bold move, he shoves your dress up to your stomach. With swift precision, he snatches your panties, sliding them down your legs. “I'll give you what you want.”
He discards your panties with a deliberate flick, his focus unwavering as he plunges down to your throbbing pussy. There's no hesitation; he immediately delves into licking at your folds and clit with a hunger that matches your own.
Your body instinctively arches off the length of the seat, a wave of pleasure coursing through you. It feels unbelievably good. In the heat of the moment, your hands find his hair, fingers gripping and pulling at the strands, eliciting a guttural groan from him.
Your muscles tighten, and the echoes of the previous orgasm, forcefully ripped from you, return with an intensity that feels tenfold. Each breath is a furious pant as he continues to lap at your folds, the relentless pleasure building and intertwining with your gasps.
Then, with a skillful touch, he adds a finger to your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. Your senses heighten, and just as you succumb to the pleasure, he skillfully continues to ravish your entrance with his tongue.
“Jimin!” you scream his name, a raw and unrestrained cry escaping your lips as you reach the peak of ecstasy on his tongue. Your body tightens, toes curling, and you involuntarily hitch your heels against his legs. In the throes of pleasure, your vision blurs, and you fight for air.
He chuckles, a throaty sound that reverberates in the aftermath of your high. Not giving you a moment to fully come down, he skillfully inserts two of his fingers inside you, drawing a hiss from your lips at the touch—your body rendered oversensitive.
He extends his fingers, proudly displaying them, glistening with your intimate juices. A wicked glint in his eyes, he issues a command, “Clean them.”
You meet his gaze defiantly, a spark of challenge in your eyes, before obediently rising to carry out his command. Taking hold of his hand, you sensually draw his slick digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them like a provocative dance. Your eyes lock onto his, witnessing the raw desire in his gaze as you release his fingers with an audible ‘pop’.
“I hate you,” you declare, breathless, the words carrying a mixture of frustration and desire. His response is a low chuckle, his perceptive gaze catching the teasing glint in your eyes.
He leans back, a provocative smirk playing on his lips, and starts palming himself through his dress pants. Your eyes involuntarily follow the movement of his hands, and a jolt of desire courses through you as you realize he's already rock hard. The unmistakable bulge strains against his pants, a visual testament to the arousal simmering between you two.
“I can help you with that,” you purr, a sultry promise lingering in your eyes, eager to reciprocate the pleasure.
He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and smoothly turns his body to fully face you. With a teasing smirk, he unzips his pants, skillfully pulling down both his trousers and underwear enough to liberate his hardened dick.
His cock springs free, defiantly brushing against the bottom of his loosened tie, a sight that's undeniably tantalizing. Perfectly sculpted, it's veiny and slightly flushed at the tip, mirroring the allure of every inch of him. A surge of conflicting emotions overwhelms you – the hate, the desire, the acknowledgment of his undeniable appeal. You despise how effortlessly good-looking he is, from the tousled blonde locks to those lips you now crave to taste.
However, your gaze returns to his dick, noting its average size but with a satisfying girth that catches your attention. A subtle hint of anticipation flickers in your eyes, and your tongue instinctively darts out to moisten your lips.
“Then get to work,” he pants, a breathy command, as he sensually spreads his legs, creating an inviting space for you.
You descend eagerly, ensuring your mouth is generously coated with saliva before you engulf him, starting with just the tip.
He hisses the moment your lips meet his dick, his head instinctively colliding with the window behind him, an involuntary exclamation escaping, “Ah, fuck.”
You engulf more of him, your mouth descending entirely, and the sound of his primal moan reverberates in response. You add a sultry hum, a note of satisfaction coursing through you.
You initiate a slow, deliberate pace, skillfully sucking him off, and anything beyond your mouth's capacity, you sensually stroke with your hand.
His hands seek out your hair, effortlessly capturing the neatly arranged high ponytail that he grasps with a possessive confidence.
You revel in the subtle tension, accelerating your descent on him with a newfound urgency. Your tongue skillfully traces intricate patterns, dancing across his tip and the sensitive folds of his frenulum.
He moans in ecstasy as you withdraw with a satisfying ‘pop,’ only to treat the head of his throbbing dick like a tempting lollipop, your tongue swirling around it with deliberate sensuality.
As you glance up at him, he appears utterly lost in the moment. His eyes, once vibrant, are now dilated orbs of desire, his parted lips releasing audible breaths. The state of bliss enveloping him transforms his features into a breathtaking display of vulnerability and beauty.
You envelop him once more, relishing the subtle tremor that courses through him, a tangible response to the sensations you're skillfully orchestrating with your lips and tongue.
He yanks you away from him, his voice a raw whisper laden with desire, “I want to fuck you.”
You prop yourself up, captivated by the transformation before you. The usual arrogant Park Jimin is replaced by this vulnerable, needy version, and against your better judgment, a desperate craving for him builds inside you. You ache for him to consume you entirely.
A mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you echo his earlier taunts, “Beg for it,” you challenge, aware of the palpable tension between you, a shared desire pulsating in the charged air.
A low, throaty chuckle escapes him as his fingers glide through the tousled strands of his blonde hair, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re really a fucking brat,” he hisses, a smirk playing on his lips.
He sits up, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he sheds his open jacket, the confined warmth of the car now turning uncomfortably sweltering. You can't help but acknowledge the irony; at least you're not freezing anymore, which, after all, was the primary objective of this unexpected detour, wasn't it?
“Please let me fuck you,” his plea hangs in the air, a desperate echo of your own request, and you can't help but chuckle, slowly crawling closer to him.
“Turn around, let me straddle you. Leaning against the headrest will give us more space,” you suggest, and he shifts in an instant, his arousal evident in the casual sway of his dick with each movement.
Then you confidently straddle him, your hand instinctively reaching for his dick, guiding him to align perfectly with your eager entrance.
Before you lower yourself onto him, you sensually trail his dick through your wetness, relishing in the intimate friction. A moan escapes your lips as you then descend onto his lap in one smooth, sultry motion.
The exquisite stretch sends a shiver down your spine, and he effortlessly glides in, eliciting a breathless ‘Fuck!’ from your lips.
As your hands find their place on his shoulders for support, his eyes, now hooded, follow your every movement as you begin to ride him with a rhythm that echoes the passion pulsing between you.
You pant furiously, your breath hot against his face. The sensation of him inside you is nothing short of heavenly, an electrifying connection that feels as if every contour of him aligns perfectly with every curve of your pussy.
“Ah,” ecstasy courses through you with each fervent bounce on his throbbing length, a harmonious rhythm of pleasure escaping your lips in breathless gasps.
“You’re so tight,” his ragged breaths synchronize with the rhythmic clench of your walls, his hands anchoring to your hips, adding an electrifying intensity to each blissful plunge into your velvet warmth.
Between gasps, you manage to growl, “Fuck. I hate you,” only to be met with his deep, throaty chuckle as he continues the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, each one a tumultuous clash of conflicting desires.
Amidst heavy breaths, he accuses, “I know you're lying,” his words punctuated by the rhythmic tempo of his panting. Undeterred, he leans in for a searing kiss, his lips caressing yours with a softness akin to pillows. Your defenses crumble as you melt into his touch, tongues colliding in a fervent dance that defies the lingering tension.
“Why is it that you feel so damn good?” you gasp, interrupting the kiss only to plunge back into its intoxicating depths. Each moment spent in his embrace feels like a surrender to a passionate whirlwind. His every thrust reverberates through you, sending electrifying shivers down your spine, an exquisite dance of pleasure and desire that you find impossible to resist.
“Perhaps I should prolong your climax, just as you did to me?” you purr with a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, resurrecting the playful brat within you.
He chuckles, his hands leaving the curve of your hips to gracefully undo his tie at his neck. Your gaze fixates on him, observing each deliberate move as he frees himself from the constriction of the tie, all while you continue to ride him with an unabashed hunger.
“You really are a fucking brat,” he mutters, the corners of his lips quirking into a sly smile as he pulls off his tie. “Now, shut up,” he commands, silencing any potential retorts by expertly stuffing the tie into your open, protesting mouth.
You yield to the makeshift gag, sinking your teeth into the fabric, muffling the symphony of your own desperate moans.
A smirk plays on his lips as his hands reclaim your hips, commanding, “Now take it like the fucking brat that you are.”
His movements become a relentless rhythm, thrusting deep inside you. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, swept away by the force of his desire.
Ecstasy courses through you, and you can't help but moan into the fabric of his tie. It feels too damn good to contain.
His voice drips with satisfaction as he senses your walls tightening around him, and a smug grin plays on his lips. “You like that, huh?”
A guttural moan escapes your lips in response, the crescendo of pleasure building, and you sense the impending climax drawing near.
“Fuck yourself on my dick,” his command hangs in the air, thick with desire, as his hands abandon your hips, embarking on a journey down your back. With a swift motion, he unzips your dress, letting it cascade down your shoulders.
Your naked breasts dances to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, an erotic ballet of passion and desire.
“Fuck. You’re not wearing a bra, just like I thought,” his eyes widen in delighted surprise, a devilish grin playing on his lips. His hands eagerly exploring the contours of your exposed tits.
His words hang in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. “Your tits are beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns around your stiffened nipples. Your body reacts instinctively, a primal moan escaping through the tie as desire courses through you.
Every grind and movement becomes a challenge as he expertly tweaks and pulls at your nipples, sending waves of pleasure and distraction through your body. You fight to maintain a rhythm, desperately trying to pleasure yourself on his dick amidst the electrifying sensations dancing across your chest.
As your walls clench around him, a whirlwind of sensations floods your body, signaling that the peak of pleasure is just a breath away. Every nerve is on edge, and the anticipation of an imminent climax tingles through you, a storm about to erupt.
As he skillfully massages your tits, he breathlessly teases, “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” his words send shivers down your spine, intensifying the pleasure that's building within you.
With a fervent nod, you surrender to the sensations, your muffled moans echoing through the tie as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.
As he plunges into you, he urges you with a guttural command, “Cream my cock, brat.” The raw desire in his voice fuels the intensity of your connection, igniting a blaze of passion.
Overwhelmed by desire, his dick finding every exquisite spot within you, you unleash a guttural moan, your pleasure echoing into the fabric of the tie as you climax on his pulsating cock.
Jimin's fingers twist around your hardened nipples, sending electric shocks of ecstasy through your body. A guttural exclamation escapes your lips, muffled by the tie, as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.
He pounds into you relentlessly, the rhythm building towards an intense climax. His hands firmly grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he desperately seeks his own release.
He reaches the peak of ecstasy, his body shuddering with the force of his release as he spills into the warmth of your pussy.
Heaving for breath, the silence between you two speaks volumes, a shared understanding lingering in the air as you descend from the euphoric heights of your climaxes.
Collapsing onto his chest, you revel in the soothing aftermath, liberated from the restraint of his tie. As his body relaxes within you, the intimacy lingers, a tangible connection forged in the heat of passion.
His lips graze your neck with a gentle touch, igniting a cascade of thoughts about the significance behind this tender gesture.
As laughter fills the air, shattering the lingering tension, your attention shifts to the foggy windows and the oppressive heaviness in the car, making each breath a deliberate act.
As you hastily redress, Jimin slips into his jacket and steps out of the car, retrieving your coat from the trunk. With a gentle handoff, he passes it to you, and you quickly slip into its comforting warmth.
“Thank you,” your gratitude escapes in a hushed whisper, laden with a touch of bewilderment. The encounter, while undeniably electrifying, leaves you grappling with conflicting emotions. It's Park Jimin, your sworn adversary, and the intensity of the shared moment hangs between you, a paradox of pleasure and rivalry.
“You’re welcome,” his response carries a self-assured smirk, echoing the lingering traces of the shared intimacy. As he confidently returns to the driver's seat, you mirror his actions, settling into the passenger's seat, both enveloped in a charged silence that speaks volumes.
The snowfall has eased, no longer as relentless as before. A subtle nostalgia creeps in as you reflect on his desire to keep you warm. The gentle flakes now fall, leaving you yearning for the lingering warmth of his touch.
As he revs the engine to life, a gust of chilly air sweeps through the car, causing you to emit an involuntary grunt. His chuckle fills the cabin, accompanied by a smirk and a teasing wink. “I can warm you up anytime,”
You shoot him a moping gaze, wondering if he has a knack for deciphering your thoughts. Can he sense the magnetic pull, the unspoken attraction that mirrors your own inner turmoil?
You return his smile, a silent agreement resonating between you as he steers the car forward, setting the wheels and unspoken possibilities in motion.
Three hours fashionably late, you finally arrive at Seokjin's Christmas party. The distant hum of music greets you as you step out of the car, signaling that the celebration is already in full swing.
As you rap your knuckles against the door, you steal a glance at Jimin who's busy adjusting his attire. His fingers deftly tighten the knot of his tie, and his pants get a quick, inconspicuous tug into place.
As Seokjin swings the door open, a tantalizing waft of mouthwatering aromas envelops your senses, instantly sparking a smile on your face.
Seokjin's laughter echoes as he playfully accuses, “You fucked Jimin!” and your jaw drops in disbelief to the floor.
#jimin x reader#jimin bts#park jimin#jimin#jimin fanfic#jimin fic#jimin imagine#jimin smut#jimin x you#park jimin imagine#park jimin smut#park jimin x reader#bts jimin#park jimin x you#bts jimin x reader#park jimin imagines#park jimin bts#bts park jimin#pjm x you#pjm smut#pjm x reader#bts pjm#pjm#bts x reader#bts x you#bts fic#bts fanfiction#bts fics#jimin fluff#bts smut
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pjkoocore. wvoo97 th__voir
th__vpjm. wvo__ovwo. goovso
sgvpjm. rmspyder. inukooemo
– like or reblog if you save !?
#bts jeon jungguk#bts jeon jungkook#jungkook profile#jungkook users#bts users#users kpop#yoongi users#namjoon users#jimin users#bts pjm#bts thv#taehyung users#random users#users ideas#kpop users
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Park Jimin pack. ★
like or reblog if you save.
#vcutloves#bts icons#jimin dior#jimin elle#jimin icons#park jimin#park jimin icons#bts#bts pjm#bts army#bangtan
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Shamless | PJM
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Summary: No matter how much you hate him, you always end up in bed with him.
“Maybe if you let me fuck you, I could give you a different perspective.”
-> Smut; Associates
Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex(f.), fingering, teasing, overstimulation
-
I hate him. That was the constant thought that came to your head whenever Jimin was mentioned. But here you were, in his bed with your legs spread wide open for him.
Jimin held both of your legs open as he fucked you with his tongue. His tongue slipped in and out of your hole, pushing it as deep inside as it could go. The feeling made you a moaning mess.
One of your hands were tugging at his hair and the other gripping onto the bed sheets. "Shit Jimin, You're so good."
Did you really hate him? Maybe just him as a person. But you do love the pleasure he always brings you. Jimin slipped his tongue up to lick at your clit. He pressed down hard with the flat of it, licking and sucking. Your eyes rolled back even more, squeezing your legs shut around his head. That didn't last long though as Jimin pushed your legs together and up towards your stomach, holding them down with his left arm.
With his right hand, he brung it down to enter his fingers inside of you. His middle and ring finger circled around your hole before pushing in. You let out a soft gasp as they sunk inside. Jimin pumped his fingers slowly to get you adjusted to the feeling. He does this every time to tease you knowing you can definitely take whatever he does.
He began to pump them faster, listening to the moans you let out. Jimin enjoyed your noises and soft pleas of you moaning out how good he feels. He knew how much you so called 'hated him' and really found the whole situation amusing. You hate him but he has you screaming out to the top of your lungs almost every night. And there were days where Jimin would sit and think about how you guys started hooking up in the first place.
"Jimin go away." He only moved closer to you, closing you into a corner of the art class. He was curious and wanted some answers to a certain topic. Jimin wasn't going to ask the question straight up so he basically sugar coated it.
"Tell me Y/N, what's your problem with me exactly?" You turned around to face him. A smirk was placed across his lips. Was he really asking you that right now? But seeing how close he was made your body temperature rise.
"Back up Jimin." He closed the gap up in between the two of you. His body was basically on yours.
"Not until you answer me." You hitched a breath and pushed him away slightly but he gripped your wrist softly and held them. Jimin wasn't going to give up until he got his answer.
So you gave him the answer, the close proximity was making your blood rise. Only due to the fact that you couldn't figure out if you enjoyed being so close to him of not. Your body was telling you one thing but your head was indecisive. "You're very cocky Jimin. Rude and so fucking sassy."
"What if I make you change your mind about that Y/N?" The way he said your name made your heart drop. It was so—seductive. But you couldn't fall for it, you knew why you really hated Jimin. Nothing can make you change your mind.
"No matter what you do, I would still feel the same way."
"Maybe if you let me fuck you, I could give you a different perspective." He has to be kidding right?
"Oh you're so full of yourself Jimin, Like I would ever let you fuck me."
"Jimin! Oh Fuck." You clenched around his fingers as you felt yourself cum all over them. Jimin kept his pace fast, even with his tongue. He drove you to overstimulation and you felt yourself about to squirt.
That was until he pulled away from you completely. Jimin let go the hold of your legs and began to suck on the fingers that were once in you. You whined out at the empty feeling, missing how good he made you feel.
Jimin gazed over your naked body, watching you catch your breath. You opened your eyes and looked at him. His fingers were no longer in his mouth and were palming his hardened dick through his Calvin Klein underwear. What's taking him so long to fuck me already? You asked yourself, craving Jimin.
You watched him start to take his underwear off and toss them somewhere across the room. The adrenaline in your body rushed, you were getting excited.
"Look at you Y/N. So ready to be fucked." You could only nod your head. "Tell me how you want it."
You stayed laying on your back. Missionary, you wanted missionary. So you could be able to look at Jimin while he fucks you. To look at the person you "hate", while he fucks you. Something you said that would never even happen.
Jimin smirked at you as he moved closer to you. He began to align his dick with your hole. The second you felt his bare tip push against your hole, you were gripping onto the sheets. He noticed and shoved himself into you.
You screamed out in pleasure, rolling your eyes back. "Fuck Jimin." He started off slow, adjusting himself to your wet insides. You rubbed up his toned arms, digging your nails into them. Jimin leaned down, resting his body onto yours. His lips met yours the second he sped up his pace.
His thrusts were fast, basically drilling you into the bed. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair again. Moans were shared during the sloppy kiss. It was hard to keep up with the kiss but the two of you continue to smash your lips against each others.
The bed creaked underneath the two of you. It didn't do this the first few times the hooking up began. He must've been fucking you so hard that the bed was starting to be effected. Jimin slammed into you harder and harder and the kiss eventually broke.
The two of you stared at each other with low eyes, mouths hanging open, and moans leaving out. Your hands were roaming his back, feeling every inch of his warm skin. A tear slipped out of your eyes from the intense pleasure. Jimin was killing your pussy, you loved it.
Your back arched against the bed and your nails digged into his back. You began to get so caught up in pleasure that you stopped moaning and only focused on each of Jimin's rough thrust. He noticed your eyes fluttering and heavy breathing. As well as the clenching around his dick. You were going to cum soon.
Jimin pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in. He repeated this motion and it definitely brung back your moans. You yelped out each time his tip met your cervix.
"Jimin...You fuck me so good." He slightly smirked.
"I know I do." Your head turned and gazed at the lamp next to you, not wanting to look at his face after that cocky remark. Jimin didn't appreciate it and stopped moving. You immediately looked at him, begging him to keep going. "Look away from me again and I won't fuck you at all."
You didn't even get the chance to respond, Jimin was fucking into you again. Slowly but rough. The two of you kept eye contact, deep into the pleasure of each other. Your walls closed in on Jimin as you came on his dick. Jimin's thrust got sloppy and he was going to cum too.
"You know I hate you so much Jimin." You tried your best to say between the moans that left your mouth. He shut his eyes tightly and moaned out, cuming inside of you.
"I know you do." He responded before leaning down to kiss you again.
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paris in the rain || pjm [2]
pairing : bookstore owner!jimin x fem!reader
genre : angst, fluff, eventual smut, strangers to friends to lovers.
rating : pg-15
series summary : you hadn't expected to run into jimin, an unusually charming guy in the midst of love and peace, in paris. but here you were, falling for a man covered in the smell of old parchment and wine while also recovering from the traumatic experiences of your past. your work stay in paris, which you had took on for a change of atmosphere, changes every nook of your life.
chap word count : 5.8k
chap warnings : swearing. i made up an imaginary author and her imaginary works ;) there's lil angst — talks about cheating, mentions of nudity (in a painting)
a/n 1 : this one took a little longer than expected but i am sure you will love it because there is a lot of jimin in here :) and also tae and hobi hehe. its still lowkey and the plot is kinda building so umm, enjoy the vibes?? anyways. please lmk what y'all think about it haha.
a/n 2 : a big thanks to the dearest @jjkeverlast for helping me by beta-ing this chapter <33
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"Y/N?" Jimin says as he regards you with the surprise of a bud which has just bloomed.
Hoseok looks between you both, yet again and goes wide eyed as he exclaims in a little shrill voice,
"You know her?"
"Yes."
He is smiling at you, truly. You can't help but return it back. You wiggle your eyebrows a bit and just nod back in greeting, opting to look back at Hoseok. Or else you'd just keep on staring at his smile, spellbound.
"Why is that surprising for you?" You ask him.
"Let me guess. One, cause he barely knows anyone around here and second, cause hey, you just moved in didn't you?" He holds out his arm, palm facing upwards as if trying to make you realize the obvious.
Jimin makes an unfunny sound and you let out a small giggle as he quips back, rather disappointedly.
"We ran into each other the other day, not that you'd know given you were too busy being a pain in my ass."
Hoseok's jaw drops to the floor as you laugh out loud, finally.
"Okay, rude."
You just stand there awkwardly, trying to stop laughing and gaze around the store to make it look like you weren't giving them attention as their bickering seemed to get a little too personal.
"Anyways," Hoseok says after a second of an intense glaring session with Jimin, "Your accidental run-in here wants the books you are holding in your hands."
"Oh yeah, that would be me."
Jimin looks at you and smiles, visibly lessening his irritation a little. "Right, because I really thought from when did this man," he points at Hoseok smugly, "start to think about the location of books he hadn't heard of."
"Oh yeah, you finally started it?" Hoseok shoves his hands in his pocket and stands up straight, ready to move away after a single word.
"What?"
"Thinking." and he walks to the desk with the snide remark and not even a last glance whereas Jimin just stares at him with his lips parted in mock offense and you try to control your laughter which still leaves your mouth in short bursts of amusement.
"Ignore him." he directs his words towards you, with a seething look towards Hoseok.
"Mhm. Sure." You smile funnily and he starts moving.
You follow him to the end of the aisle from where you just came, and he sets the books on the pre existing pile of books. You observe the way his blonde hair sticks to his forehead and the nape of his neck, a little wet due to the rain – the way his cream sweater fits around his torso, a little snug but enough to indicate that he is built, if not bulky. Your eyes trail down and before you can even register the fit of his pants around his thighs and his ass-
"I hope Hoseok didn't bother you much."
His voice snaps you out of your daze and you look up at him to see his eyes trained on the books sincerely. If you wouldn't have been so embarrassed by checking him out so shamelessly, you would have noticed a faint pink creeping up his neck under the blonde tresses.
"No no he didn't. He was an absolute treat to be with."
He was, indeed. You were nervous about meeting new people. Hell, you were even nervous about communicating with the shopkeepers you needed to interact with. But Hoseok made it easy for you from the moment you set foot inside the shop. For the briefest hour you spent in his company, you felt as if the dream you had expected Paris to be had returned in front of you with flashing colors of the sun in the rain. You saw Paris just like it had been romanticized by the media, and you didn't want to step out to face the reality.
"Ah, I'm glad." Jimin still doesn't look at you, but you can see the ghost of a smile lingering over his lips, causing one to form over yours instinctively.
"These are the ones you wanted. And I must say, the ones you have already collected and are now going to collect, show you have a pretty good taste." He finally looks at you while pointing at the books and you flush wildly.
People have always been quick at disregarding your likings. Even if they were as mere as taste in books you read. Your choice has always been questioned. So when someone you don't know praises, and validates your choice with such sincerity, your heart warms to an extent completely immeasurable.
"You think so?"
"Of course, Y/N."
And that's when it dawns upon you that he didn't only remember you as the person he had run into, he remembered your name. One that you had mentioned in a fleeting moment of haste, and incoherent mumbling, he remembered it. Sure, the same happened with his name. But you had a reason to remember him, as he was one of the very first people you had met when you moved. You on the other hand, were just a random passerby too lost to see her way.
"I see people buy and go through books every day. So when I say that your taste is good, trust me, I know what I'm saying." he finally gives you that eye smile and you almost sigh with relief at his words.
"Thank You, Jimin."
His eyes brighten up as if he too, like you, was not expecting you to remember his name.
Too nervous to hold eye contact with him, you look towards the books and take a battered copy of The Great Gatsby in your hand, going through the dog-eared pages and splatters of blue ink on the edges of the pages. Your heart swells as you realize it's a used copy, which means you'll get an insight into someone else's life, without judgment, without embarrassment, just love and excitement.
Jimin takes it as an opportunity to leave you to yourselves, his smile deflating a little. He almost moves when Hoseok appears in the aisle.
"Dear friends," he continued with an exaggerated flourish,"I am ordering food, would you like some?"
You look away from the book and towards Jimin as he seems deep in thought, mulling over the difficult decision of deciding what food he would like to eat.
"Whatever you have, Hoseok." he sighs at last. Hoseok just shakes his head disappointedly.
"And you, Y/N?"
"Huh? Me?"
Jimin laughs beside you.
"He did say friends didn't he? You are one of them."
"Oh, right."
You look between them as they laugh at your nervous state, now lessening in their warm presence.
"But I'd rather not have anything" you begin and they turn their faces to argue,"because I already told Hoseok I have some errands to run, and I really do. So I'll be leaving."
"Bummer." Hoseok says and you give him a tight lipped smile.
"Yeah, just ring these up for me." you carry a stack of three in your hands, directing his attention to the previous ones already sprawled out on the floor.
"I will. Hobi you can order the food." Jimin chimes in and you almost jump at the enthusiasm in his tone.
Hoseok just eyes him warily before sludging towards the desk with a groan.
Jimin follows him gladly and you join the train too, walking behind him timidly as he walks with a weird air of happiness. He ends up standing behind the counter and sets the books in front of him as he takes one in hand and scans its code. All this time, you do nothing but stare at him and the pretty bracelet adorning his lithe wrist. It was a customized silver bracelet with the word ‘Mimi’ engraved on it.
“Is Mimi your nickname?” You ask out loud. Your eyes widen as you realize you were prying into a stranger’s life and his eyes widen too at the unexpected question.
“Huh? Uh yes. My mom gave it to me.”
You smile and he flushes embarrassingly.
"I know it's stupid but sh-"
"It's cute."
His mouth goes agape and you beautifully see pink creep up his neck and dusting his cheek. He closes his mouth and opens it again, trying to come up with a response but fails. You yourself were shocked you said it, but it's true. And you might just love watching his flustered state.
"Really, Jimin. I mean it."
"I- Thank You."
A comfortable silence sits around you, even though you want to pierce the silent blanket. He types something on the keyboard and out pops a receipt from the printer, stating your total. The mood around you both is calm and a small, unknown smile plays on your lips, as well as his.
"You're buying The Last Home now? Isn't the next book coming out in like two months?"
Your eyes light up when he mentions your favorite series, already holding the second volume in his hands to pack it.
"Yes. That's why I'm catching up on it again. You see, I lost some of my books back home, so I'm buying this one now. I've read it though. It's just I am so excited for the next book, I couldn't wait to grab this one when I saw it. I love the author so much. She always writes such immacula-" you notice him looking at you with interest, his eyes holding awe and amusement and realize you had been rambling.
"Sorry. I didn't realize I was rambling." you say meekly.
"No no no, continue, please. I want to know how much you like my favorite author." He laughs.
"Wait. Kristine is your favorite too?"
Kristine Rodriguez, the author of one of your most favorite books. She hadn't written many, and wasn't well known but you believed in her more than yourself. Her series, Home was a trilogy and The Only Home was the last one.
"Of fucking course. I think she might be one of the very few authors who writes about socio-political issues in romance books so well. I don't even know how she thinks that."
"Right? So amazing. I especially liked when she sarcastically used it to taunt the system."
"The way Claire is portrayed as a character so relatable I-" your phone goes off as the contact of your neighbor stares back at you. Jimin stops speaking immediately and before you can even pick up the call, it cuts and a notification chimes in.
Lily (11:57 am) : That missed call was on purpose. And a reminder that my parcel will come in v soon.
Lily (11:57 am) : I am so sorry for bothering u Y/N.
Lily (11:58 am) : And thank you babes. I owe you.
"Oh fuck."
"What happened?" Jimin seems concerned and you immediately wave it off.
"Nothing, just. I had to collect this parcel for my neighbor and I completely forgot. I'll have to run now." you say dismissively as you pay and collect the two bags he gives you.
"Thank god. I was scared that something went down."
He was? Why? You both had just met and were practically strangers. Your heart swells but you are way too distracted to dwell on it.
"Oh no, don't worry." and you move to the door.
"Bye, Jimin. And bid Hoseok goodbye on my behalf too."
"Yeah, bye Y/N. See you later." he shouts out just before the door closes behind you.
See. Him. Later?
Yeah you were in deep shit now.
Even though you and Taehyung had agreed to meet tonight, something seemed off. And it bothered you, a lot.
It was already 5:55 pm and you were eagerly waiting to hear from him. Usually, he jumps around a lot whenever there is a plan made but this time, there is dead silence on his side. You tried to reason it with the lack of enthusiasm from your side, but no. That can't be it because he is generally a forgiving person.
You were waiting in your living room, wearing a blue sundress and a creme cardigan. You were not dressed too extravagantly, partially because you didn't know where he was taking you and partially because you wanted to be comfortable.
One thing which you suddenly realize is that a week has passed since your arrival and Taehyung still hasn't mentioned the date you were supposed to pay for.
Odd.
Because it's highly unlikely of him to miss an opportunity to tease you, or annoy you.
All these thoughts go to the drain when your doorbell rings, indicating his presence. You open the door to find him wearing loose black pants and a pink cardigan with puppies on it?
Shirtless?
"Where the fuck are we going Taehyung?"
"The Louvre."
Ah, then the outfit makes sense. Yours, not his.
"You're dressed like a hoe."
"Dress like the ones you aspire to attract." You roll your eyes at his half ass humor.
"And also because I am one." He flashes his boxy grin and you laugh.
"Now that's better. But don't encourage the hoes cause you've got one already." You say as you grab your purse and turn off the lights.
"We are getting late, Y/N. Hurry up."
You furrow your eyebrows a little but nevertheless lock your door and turn to face him, already walking towards the elevator.
"Late for what?" You ask as you follow him quickly.
"The cab is waiting downstairs, nothing much."
"Didn't bring your car?"
"Didn't feel like driving."
He makes a tsk sound and buries his hands in his pockets while staring straight ahead as the doors close. You whirl around on your feet and face the same direction as him, a bit confused at his behavior.
The Louvre.
Many might say it's the place to lose yourself to art, to dive into the intricacies of emotions woven together to form pieces alluring eyes alike. You knew that these statements had to come from some form of truth, but little did you know they were just the half truth.
The place was magnificent, nothing less of the grandeur it had been praised for. The sun filtered softly over the vast area as it neared the horizon steadily and the glass pyramid standing there, in all its glory, shone like the doors to heaven might if they had been graced by the entrance of an angel.
You were walking slowly, beside Taehyung, as your head moved on its own accord, trying to absorb everything around you.
There were people bustling in and out with glee and solemnity. It was after days that the city was seeing an hour with no rain and soft sun, and it seemed like everyone was reveling in it.
"How do you like the 'surprise'?" Taehyung speaks up.
"Not too bad. But you know, I was planning to visit this week anyway so it's not like you took me to someplace unreachable."
"You should learn how to be grateful." he looks at you with disappointment and betrayal.
You laugh at his face and quickly loop your hand through his arm, his palm stuffed into his pocket.
"I'm kidding. I love that you brought me here."
"Hmm. That's better."
Both of you sport a small smile and walk towards the entrance, entranced by the place.
The area was littered with people, art enthusiasts and mere tourists alike. A horde of them gathered in bunches all across the hall, in front of different counters and receptions, leading to different sections of the museum. You looked up and saw the sun seeping in through the glass covering of the pyramid, forming shapes and shadows on the floor, reflecting off the slanted panels of the structure.
"It's so beautiful." you whisper.
"But so crowdy."
You snort.
"Is that even a word, Tae?"
"I don't care. You got what I meant."
"Yeah." You sigh.
It sure was crowded. As soon as you thought that, a group of people blocked your path, led by a man carrying a flag which had something written in German, hard for you to decipher. It was a tourist group, that much was understood.
There were some escalators taking you to the upper storeys, and up ahead two major divisions were made, "Expositions" and "Exhibitions". The roof, which was not a part of the pyramid, had a false ceiling wherein inverted triangles were carved out, with a light fitting at the top vertex.
You both continue into the museum, silently, in awe.
Up until a point, off white, yellowish light washed the whole area. But then, bright white light shines on you and you come in front of an archway, with the sign 'Pavillon de l'Horloge'. A bunch of paintings decorated the entrance, and two stairways went up from either side, both a part of two different archways, which were a bit smaller than the main one.
"Pavillon Sully. The center of the western wing of the Cour Carrée we are in." Taehyung informs you.
"Feels like a dream."
"Which is very much real."
A lovely couple passes by at that exact moment, hand in hand, step in step, heart in heart. At that moment, they looked more refreshing than the art around you, because of the aura of love they exuded. A thought strikes you and you increase the pace of your steps, catching up with Taehyung who had gone a bit ahead.
"Hey."
"Yeah?" He pauses and turns back.
"When are you going on that date? I'd like to know when you will beg me for my money." You wink at him and pull him aside, not stopping the traffic.
You look around and find yourself partially hidden by a statue, placed in the corner of a large hall with a variety of similar structures and paintings. You smile a little at the magnificence of the place and look back at Taehyung.
"About that."
"Hmm?"
"We broke up."
Oh.
What?
He seemed so excited just a week ago.
You look up at him and see that he was unwilling to make eye contact. He was nervous, a trait of his you got to know over time. His face had fallen and the sparkle of his eyes had faded.
You were bad at comforting people, but looking at him seeming so down, and hurt, panged your chest. You bring up a hand and gingerly rub his forearm, lightly, to let him know you were there.
"Yeah. Just a few days ago, actually." he whispers into nothingness, jutting his chin out and looking up at the roof.
"What happened?" you ask slowly, cautiously, retracting your hand to give him space if he would like to retreat from the conversation.
"It's, it's complicated."
His voice is strained and you feel your heart crack at the vulnerability in his voice.
"Tae, you know I am here for you. Whenever you feel like talking to me." You give him an awkward, reassuring smile, not knowing what to say, or what to do.
"Angel, she," he inhales shakily, and exhales, completely broken,"she cheated on me."
The room shifts at his words and suddenly you are standing in the cold Seoul air, on the road in front of your old apartment. The entrance opens and you see yourself walking out with marks of dried tears on your cheeks and a bag full of trash, belongings of him.
A gust of cool air from the overhead Aircon brings you back to earth and your eyes burn to look at the man in front of you, face sullen and fingers twitching nervously at his sides, looking so defeated.
"Tae-"
"I don't really want to talk about it right now, Y/N." he whispers and looks at you with a stoic face, but his eyes plead to you nevertheless.
"It's, it's okay. But I am here for you, Tae. Even though I might not be the best person to talk to-" he laughs a little and you smile,"I can at least listen."
"Yeah, yeah I know. Thank You."
You mindlessly reach for his hand and take his palm in yours, noticing how sweaty it was even in the cold room. You instantly intertwine your fingers with his and squeeze his hand, to reassure him. The gesture brings a smile on his face and your heart calms down, witnessing the slight curve of his lips.
The soft light of the hall illuminates his saddened features. A petal falls off from the cage of roses you had encased your heart in, on seeing his misery and you immediately flick your eyes away from his face, glazing them across your surroundings to stop the withering of your heart due to the rush of memories which was catching on to you.
Taehyung, as if sensing your discomfort, jokes about the headless statue beside you, with wings wide open and shoulders dropped. It was meant to be funny, the way he said that he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of hangovers but all your mind could decipher was 'hangovers'.
Alcohol, and the pang in your chest grew more.
You grace him with a hearty smile, to ease the air which seems to comfort him and he lets out a relieved sigh. You tug at his hand and move yourself away from the secluded corner, back to the museum's grandeur.
"What are your thoughts on this?"
You and Taehyung had wandered off into an area with a horde of paintings lined on the wall, and a number of admirers just staring at them with admiration, taking photos, or laughing at some of the weird interpretations.
"This one?" You ask him as you point towards the painting diagonally to you.
It depicted two young men deep in conversation, leaned towards one another, in the countryside playing instruments. With them were two naked women, one of them sitting on the grass beside them, turned away from the viewer and the other serving water from a marble basin, in the viewer's straight sight. In the backdrop, lush meadows and a waterfall stream can be seen.
The Pastoral Concert.
"It looks like painted poetry. I mean, the men seem unfazed by the close proximity of the nude women, indulging in the music and their talks. The background adds to the effect, given it shows the lush environment so beautifully that one might get distracted by it."
"Like, pastoral poetry, singing about the beauty of the natural world. And the lute in the picture might refer to the shepherds and their famous way of poetry." Taehyung continues and you look at your hands still intertwined.
"But with a tinge of melancholy." You finish for him.
"Where's the sadness?"
"In the picture? I can't find it. But I assume the women are sad? As the men are not paying attention to them. Or the men are so ridden with misery that they are not able to look at the beauty around them? Maybe the women are nymphs from one of the caves we can see behind, who knows? But I feel there's something in the piece which does not allude to happiness." you speak while staring at the painting, a frown etched on your face.
"Because of course, when there is beauty, we always tend to ignore the pain." Taehyung says softly and you look up at him with wide eyes.
"That's true." You whisper when you realize he had been referring to the past, of you both, his more immediate than yours.
He squeezes your hand and you both laugh again. At this point you lost count of the number of times you both laugh just to ease the atmosphere.
Your head whirls around the room to take in new things when a head catches your attention and your eyes lock in place.
Did he literally mean 'See you later'? Because no way were you looking at Jimin, a few steps away from you, staring back at you with wide eyes. The scene was similar to the one you were in just that morning.
He was donning an off white button down with an indecent amount of buttons left open, letting you a peek of his chest and midriff. You almost groan internally on seeing the golden skin shine in the light. His blonde hair was still frayed over his forehead, but they seemed a little permed. A singular earring dangled from his left ear, making its way to his jawline and hitting the sharp structure with elegance. His jeans were black, fitted perfectly around his legs, accentuating his thighs deliciously.
Why was he dressed like this? It was a goddamn museum.
He looked like a siren, with his crescent eyes and full lips, inviting one and all. The call was alluring, and you willed your legs to not move.
Even though he was attracting all eyes, his were caught in headlights. They flicked once between you and Taehyung and you might have seen something similar to a shock flash through them. Before you can even dwell on it, or give him a smile as a greeting, Taehyung's voice cuts through the haze.
"You look like shit."
"Excuse me? I look amazing." you quip back without second thought, whipping your head to seethe at his face, noticing he had turned a little.
"Debatable."
"Then proceed?"
He turns a little and discreetly points a thumb in Jimin's direction.
"In front of that," and then points towards your outfit,"this is shit."
You stumble for words as you realize what he was trying to imply.
"I am not trying to get his attention or something. I know him already."
"Really? Cause you look like you'd jump his bones any chance you get."
"Shut up Taehyung." you slap his arm, pulling your hand away from him, and turn to look at Jimin, only to see that he was nowhere to be found.
Your head frantically whips around the room, trying to locate a mess of blonde hair and–
"Wow, he's got some good cake there."
Taehyung was staring straight at Jimin's ass, who was now in the opposite direction to the one you first saw him in, retreating towards the corner with someone by his side, someone you recognise.
"Now you look like you'll jump his bones." you snidely say and wink at him.
Taehyung just laughs and waves off your comment, mumbling something like 'I might, okay'.
You wonder why Jimin had gone away after explicitly seeing you, even making eye contact with you. Your eyebrows furrow a little as you look in his direction, to see him staring at a painting softly, looking so angelic and at peace. Hoseok takes some pictures by his side, of the paintings or of Jimin's, who knows?
You had wanted to go ahead and greet him, but seeing that he purposefully dodged you and your sight, you were hesitant to go forward.
Regardless, when you are with Taehyung, you're hardly able to think as he pulls you towards them.
"Is he a friend of Hoseok's?" he asks you, excitedly.
"You know him?"
"Uh huh. Through a friend."
You let out an 'ooh' and begrudgingly follow him till the end of the room.
The soft padding of footsteps makes both the men turn towards you, and you fist your hands to not get nervous on something so trivial. Why were you getting anxious over meeting the same people you spent your whole morning with?
The men in front of you stand still, several emotions flashing through their face before they settle on one, amused. Hoseok smiles big enough to challenge the lights in the room and Jimin's eyebrows raise up as a soft, lopsided smile plays on his lips.
"Hey, Taehyung." Hoseok exclaims loudly, enough so that a few heads turn in your direction, and engulfs Taehyung in a bear hug.
"When did you come back to the city?" Taehyung asks him and Hoseok groans.
"A few months ago. And to be honest, I'd like to return rather than having to work under him." he points at Jimin.
"You can resign whenever you want. I can use the extra money that I waste as your salary." Jimin grumbles at him and Hoseok scoffs playfully.
"As if the shop would survive even a day without me. Ha."
"Did well for the last whole year."
"Yeah but now you've got lazy as fuck and–"
"Guys." You interrupt their rising bickering and they both look at you like kids, who were caught while fighting over whose toys are the best.
"Hi." you idiotically wave at them and the smile is back on both of them, Jimin's rather shy and ashamed.
"Hey Y/N. Didn't see you there. You and Taehyung know each other?" Hoseok exclaims, yet again.
"Yeah, yeah we do." Taehyung answers for you, in the softest way possible.
"Oh that's great. You two–"
"By the way, I'm Jimin. Hoseok's friend or you could say, temporary boss." Jimin cuts Hoseok off with a laugh and extends his hand towards Taehyung.
Taehyung happily clasps his rather small hand in his big ones and politely shakes them,introducing himself and looking up at him with awe in his eyes. Seems like whoever meets Jimin are immediately pulled towards him, like a moth drawn to a flame.
He looks at you and you nod your head at him, him returning the gesture politely and waving a little. Taehyung sees this and starts wringing his hands together, and you already know he is planning some trouble.
"You look amazing, man. Y/N was–"
"Was saying that I know you guys and he was curious as to how." you finish for him instead, with a sickly sweet smile.
Both of them don't seem to notice the slip up Taehyung almost caused and you mentally sigh, nudging the man beside you with your elbow and a grumbled curse. He just laughs and throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in.
Jimin flicks his eyes between you both once more, before settling on Hoseok's face with a pleasant expression.
"She moved in recently, a few blocks away from the bookstore. Came in today to buy some books and that's how we know each other." Hoseok answers Taehyung.
"The bookstore as in the one Jimin owns, and I work at – Mimi's Dream." he continues and points at Jimin with both hands.
"The name sounds familiar." Taehyung wonders and looks up at the ceiling.
"If you have been around the area then you might have heard it."
"Maybe." He looks at you and you just shake your head, praying he doesn't remember the phone call you had the first day you came there. You can't trust Taehyung to know what to say, and especially when he has the golden ticket to embarass you.
You can feel Jimin staring at your profile but you don't dare look back at him, to avoid melting to the floor under the heat of his gaze. He was like an enigma, speaking chosen words, impacting you the same with each of them. You knew his gaze was soft, not intimidating as of yet. But you didn't want to feel the cloudy, sugary feeling that came with it, with the hint of spice as the allure rolled off him in waves.
"You guys should join us this weekend." Hoseok chirps in suddenly, breaking your chain of thoughts.
"Where?"
"One of our friends has his photography exhibition on Saturday, and we are meant to bring a plus one." Jimin explains.
"Yeah, Jungkook's had many of them and let me tell you, that guy has talent. I think you both will enjoy it." Hoseok excitedly adds.
"Is this the same Jungkook I know? Your college mate?" Taehyung enquires and he confirms his suspicion with a loud exclamation.
"Ooh yeah that kid has potential. What do you say Y/N?" He looks at you and you reply without second thought.
"I don't have anything better to do on Saturday," given that Taehyung's date has been cancelled now. But you don't add that piece of information."So yeah, this does sound exciting."
Everyone lights up brighter than the sun, and you can visibly see Jimin almost jumping on his toes. Faint traces of color grace his face and a wide smile becomes the cherry on top.
"Great. You can be my date." He suddenly directs the statement towards you, eyes immediately going wide as he realizes he said that out loud. "I mean, you know, we are meant to bring a plus one, so you both will have to accompany us individually, yeah? Only if it's okay." He adds quickly, with sprinkles of embarrassment.
Wow.
All night, he seemed to be inviting you in wordlessly, by unknowing stares and mindless words. But at this moment, the invite was explicit, stated clearly. And who were you to deny such amazing company?
"Sure. We can go together." you say, rather breathlessly, convincing yourself that you were not back to your school years, when your crush had asked you out for the prom.
Jimin smiles at you, the same way he had when you had praised his bracelet, and the petal which had fallen from the rose cage of your heart, grows back.
"Perfect. Taehyung, I am sure we are going to outdo all these pairs over there." Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows at Taehyung who laughs heartily.
"Damn right we are going to, my man." They both do an extravagant handshake and bump their chests together.
"I hope you guys know we are going to an exhibition and not a match." Jimin smiles at them with a sarcastic voice, laced with an innocent smile.
"Hello? We are very passionate okay?"
You laugh at Taehyung's comment and pull him back from Hoseok, with a hand on his cardigan.
"Well, isn't that just what we wanted to hear." you grimace and he straightens up with a wide ass grin which you wish to wipe off for no reason.
The Louvre, a place for minds and passions alike, seems to dissolve into nothing around you as you take in the man in front of you, as realization dawns upon you.
You were going to be his date.
He had asked you to be his date.
And now he was looking at you with a gleam in his eyes and a shine in his smile and a vile in his style and you think you should stop thinking.
"So, we will meet on Saturday?" Jimin's airy voice redirects you to the conversation you had completely missed and you nod at the question, seemingly answering it so you don't have to let your shaky voice come out of your mouth.
"Wait, what's the dress code?" Taehyung asks the real questions.
"Dressy Casual."
"You mean, dress casually?"
"No I mean exactly that – Dressy Casual."
"Wow."
Indeed. You'll have to rake your whole closet to come up with a worthy outfit.This night is going to be a hell of a night, you think.
Indeed, one to look forward to.
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