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yoonia · 4 years

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Never Falling [M]

➬ Title | Never Falling

➬ Summary | For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

↳ Pairings | Jimin x reader

↳ Genre | Enemies to Lovers!au, Singer!Jimin, non-idol!au, Assistant!reader, Smut, Angst

↳ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

↳ Warning | Slow burn, mutual pinning (but both are too dumb and stubborn to realise or to admit it), intense foreplay, fingering (f receiving), oral sex/pussy eating (with a bit of biting involved, don’t say I didn’t warn you), size kink (just get along with it), clothed foreplay, breast play, unprotected sex, rough sex.

↳ Word count | 21k words (I’m so sorry!!!!)

↳ Cross-post | AO3 | Inkitt

↳ Story Masterlist: Falling trilogy

↳ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Commissions

➬ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @opaljm. Just like I said, I made a little twist from your initial request, but I do hope you’ll love how it turned out. I’m sorry this took so long. Thank you for commissioning me and for giving me all of your support :)

⟶ Taglist | @jiminssizzles , @jeonmisha, @barbikatherine, @melrosaeparker, @hodginss, @ladyartemesia, @justmeandendlessbiases, @luvrssunrise, @anonlovesbts, @ittybittyamy, @4evahevah, @spring2787, @wwilloww, @bonnyskies, @janjaiii, @nightshadevinter, @blue1928, @taeyohonic, @jiminsreads, @imluckybitches, @strangbeyondcompare, @maso-cxhi, @cypherft-v, @smitssharon02, @ggukjitaejin, @djasheyash99 (unable to tag: @screamingyoonseok, @loulifereader, @kaitlynteddy26, @hoho-cham)

The fancy black sedan is parked right at the side of the tarmac, not too far from where the private jet taking Park Jimin back from his tour will be landing on in a matter of—most possibly—minutes.

The wind outside picks up, and so does your heartbeat. Even the tension in your body rises as you count the passing seconds before he is finally here.

The air conditioner inside the car is running, surrounding you with the cold temperature which is a complete opposite to the heat of summer burning outside, but it doesn’t stop your hands from turning clammy as your nerves are getting all over the place. Running your hands down the pencil skirt you are wearing, you look out the window, expecting to see signs of the jet coming into view, before glancing down at your watch.

“Are you sure that there is no delay from the flight?” you ask the driver sitting in the front. He looks up to you in the backseat through the rearview mirror, suppressing a smile as he spots your fidgeting state before finally answering,

“I am completely sure, Ma’am. I double-checked with the staff just five minutes ago when you asked me about it last time.”

“Right,” you mutter under your breath, looking away to avoid his curious gaze by pretending to look back out onto the tarmac, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how terribly antsy you are.

It is hard enough for you to keep your legs from bouncing out of nerves. Pretty sure that you are far from looking composed as you are sitting here, always looking out the window with your eyes barely focusing on anything important happening around you.

Not that anything has happened yet.

The car falls silent for a moment as you try to focus on something else. But as always, your mind chooses to drift away. Suddenly, you are back with Jimin on his tour, back in his hotel bedroom a few weeks ago, hearing his words and seeing him again the way you did then.

Three weeks, you wonder, counting the days in your head to the last time you saw him. You never knew just how much those three weeks could affect you.

“Looks like you won’t have to wait for much longer,” the driver speaks almost to himself as he has his eyes looking out the car window instead of watching over you. His voice may sound soft, but it is enough to pull you abruptly to the present.

Sure enough, just as you look up to the sky, the private jet comes into view, soaring right above the horizon and preparing for its landing. Your pulse beats faster as you watch the jet slowly descending from the sky, then making its swift landing on the asphalt ground.

As the jet continues to drive along the tarmac, steadily making its way into its parking spot, you almost feel too afraid to look. You close your eyes and press your lips together, willing yourself to calm down just as the jet sets to park and the sound of the machine slowly comes to stop. Sadly, as much as you want to stay inside the car, hiding yourself from the world and from what may become the beginning of your undoing, you still have a job to do.

You should be there when he steps out of that jet. You should be standing right at the bottom of the staircase to welcome him. After all, you are his personal assistant. You are also his manager, his secretary, house manager, the person who is responsible for organising all of his schedules, and lately, organising his entire life—both personal and around his work.

And today, you are his escort and welcome committee, and you need to be there to offer him a familiar face greeting him back after the long tour. But instead of putting on your big girl shoes to play your part, you have fallen completely frozen in the backseat of his sedan, unable to move and to make your way out there to face him.

Three whole weeks have passed since you saw him last, but you are not sure if you are going to be ready to see him again.

Three weeks without him watching every move you make. Without him constantly chastising and complaining on every single thing you do, finding faults on everything around him for you to fix whenever he is not sending you to do some odd jobs or errands on his behalf. Three weeks without him around, without his smile, without his laugh, without his beautiful eyes looking at you as if you are nothing but an open book which he loves to read and study closely until he could figure you out, though a part of you believe that he simply does so just to find your weakness.

Three long weeks passed that you had expected to be your freedom, only to have ended up leaving you feeling suffocated as you felt trapped in your own prison. The prison that you had created on your own without his presence, as he had become the biggest part of your life for so long.

You are his manager and his assistant, and your life has always been tethered so strongly to him for the past five years. And though you were still technically managing his work and his life from far away, nothing has been quite the same when he is not there.

You had been there to join him on his tour in the States that had started eight months ago, until the day you left him to fend for himself while he was in a foreign land. You hate to admit that it was much easier to constantly put your mask on when you had to face him every day. But the time you spent away has allowed you to be complacent and careless, that you had been enjoying too much of your reprieve for being away from him to hide the mixed feelings that you have kept inside for the past year.

The feelings that you had never realised ever existed until that night three weeks ago.

Now that he is back and you are seconds away to return to your duty, you are going to need to put that mask back on. Except that you are nowhere ready for it. Not now, and probably not ever. Not after what you had said to him the last time you saw him.

Your head snaps to face the window when you hear the sounds of the cabin’s door opening, followed by the driver’s voice, “He’s here. Shouldn’t you be out there?”

You turn to meet his gaze through the rearview mirror and see how he is staring at you with an intrigued look on his face. Your voice gets caught in your throat for a moment, but you manage to squeak out, “Right, I probably should,” before forcing yourself to relax.

With one long deep breath, you put on a brave face before finally stepping out of the car.

You force your feet to move toward the bottom of the staircase. Something that you have never thought would be a struggle to do until today, yet there is nothing you could do about it when your knees keep wobbling as you go. You suddenly regret your decision to change your flats to a pair of higher heels right before leaving his apartment earlier. It suddenly seems absurd now to be wearing these heels when the only person you would be seeing today is him, but it is now too late to change anything about it.

Park Jimin is already standing at the top of the staircase when you find your spot at the bottom of the staircase. It is hard to look up with the bright sun shining above your head, but you could easily focus on him. The same way you always do. He is talking to the pilot of the jet, an old friend of his from school, he once said. A young, attractive man who you would occasionally hear the female flight attendant gushing over on whenever you join Jimin on his tour.

Still, your eyes could only see Jimin. Your attention tethered solely on his presence without him even knowing it.

As always, he is dressed so immaculately that you could barely see him looking distraught from the jet lag. Wearing a white buttoned-up shirt and tight jeans, together with his favourite leather shoes and a pair of sunglasses on his face, he looks just as flawless as he always does. The wind keeps blowing on his hair and he repeatedly brushes his hand to put them back in place. The gesture is something that could always take everyone’s breath away, even if he has always been doing it unconsciously out of habit.

In the past, none of these things about him could stir your insides. You have no idea when it first started, but your body has been reacting differently to everything he does. Every movement he makes ignite some sparks inside you and you have become hyper-aware on everything he does or says. Even now, your fingers twitch with the urge to touch the strands of his silky hair, and you clench your fists tighter to keep it together and act like it doesn’t matter. Because none of it should and you have been losing your ability to keep your composure when you are around him.

And it was exactly the reason why you had left and returned to Seoul before his tour had ended.

When you finally look up again, Jimin has turned his eyes on you. You could feel his deep gaze even when the sunglasses are hiding it away from you. His lips twitch with a faint smile. It happens so quickly and brief that you partly believe that you are probably imagining things.

Because he would never.

Then he bids his pilot friend goodbye before making his way down the staircase, keeping his hands inside his pockets and his eyes trailing on you.

You swallow hard and flatten the front of your skirt, keeping your eyes on him the entire time as he steps down the stairs. The sunglasses he is wearing hides his expression as he is standing right in front of you, but his presence alone is already enough to make you feel overwhelmed.

“Welcome back, Sir,” you greet him with your head down. Your eyes rise up to him as you straighten yourself up, finding him looking straight at you.

Jimin nods and runs his hand through his hair, making your heart flutter once again. His gaze is still hidden beneath the sunglasses, but you could still feel its heat. His face is completely unreadable, yet it doesn’t stop you from wondering—has the three weeks of being apart meant anything the same to him?

“Good. You’re here. It’s good to finally see your face again,” he calmly says, and you almost believe that you had caught a relieved sigh slipping out of his lips. “I missed you through the final weeks of the tour. It also felt weird not to have you around during the flight. You are always there, so I was partly expecting you to join me on my way back.”

Your heart jumps. It only has been three weeks since you have heard the silky tone of his voice and already it stirs something deep inside you. And the fact that he said something about your absence makes your cheeks heat up, a spark of joy rising inside you that you could feel your lips lifting up. The smile that is threatening to come forward feels stronger and brighter than usual, but you hold yourself back.

You refuse to think too much of the flutters appearing in your heart upon hearing those words coming from him, and you choose not to question the disappointment that comes to you when he adds, “The staff they gave me to replace you on tour had a terrible job of keeping up with what you do. I had to do a lot of things on my own when he was of no help at all. I shouldn’t have let you leave early before the tour ended.”

You keep your eyes low as you follow him to the sedan, hiding your face from his eyes as you have no idea how to react to that. Though you still manage to at least express your remorse when you tell him, “Forgive me for not being able to be there for you, Sir. The sudden leave was needed to make sure everything will fall into place for your album recording next month.”

Thankfully, your voice comes out much calmer than you had expected it would as you focus on following his quick footsteps. You are also grateful that you are able to hide the disdain in your voice when you talk about your absence.

Enough to hide the fact that it was partially a lie.

Three weeks ago, while you were away busying yourself with his tour schedule, the company had contacted you with urgency, stating that there were some technicalities back at the recording company regarding Jimin’s schedules with his new upcoming album. You were the only person that Jimin had fully trusted when it comes to his work, enough to have you sent back to Seoul in order to make things right.

Except that there was almost no need for you to fly back when you could have handled things from where you were at the time. You had only agreed to fly back home to stay away, to figure things out, because being around him for nearly eight months had started to obscure your logical mind that the leave was needed just for you to get a grip of your reality.

But he really doesn’t need to know that. Nobody does.

“I will catch up on everything that I’ve left behind from the final weeks of the tour once I can arrange to meet up with the replacement staff. But I’ll make sure to contact the company about the problem with the appointed staff later to make sure it wouldn’t happen again, Sir,” you quickly add, while Jimin barely looks at you when he only responds with a quick nod.

“Is there anywhere we need to be today?”

“No, Sir. We have cleared out the schedule for today to give you enough time to adjust to the local time after the long flight.”

“Right. I will still need to catch up on everything. Give me a full rundown on this week’s agenda and make sure that I can make it to my parents’ wedding anniversary dinner next week,” he says, keeping his eyes forward as he speaks.

Meanwhile, the professional clipped tone of his voice makes you blink and you involuntarily take a step backwards. All of a sudden, you are out of the dreamy state you were in since you saw him again, and your lungs start to feel heavy. With each breath you take, the uneasiness you felt before returns to you tenfold.

Jimin turns to you just as he realises that you are not following him close behind. “_____? Is there a problem?” he asks, almost sounding concerned when he sees you standing frozen behind him. Almost. “You do have all the updates that I need to catch up on, I’m sure.”

What he gives you is not even a question, but it sure sounds like he is saying it with an accusing tone. You quickly snap right back to it and answer him, “There is no problem at all, Sir. I have everything prepared for you—the itinerary and all the details about this week’s program. Your family’s gathering and dinner included. I can brief you on everything you need on our way back to the apartment.”

Jimin simply nods, but it is quite obvious that he is pleased with what he had just heard from you. He says nothing else as he slips into the backseat of the car.

You wait for a moment until his door is shut before rushing to the other side and entering the car. Your mind keeps drifting back and forth, running over all the details inside your head. You suddenly begin questioning yourself if you had made sure not to miss anything behind. God forbid that your agitation has made you slip. Any small mistake could possibly ruin this day, and it has always been nerve-wracking as it is on its own.

He has his eyes on his phone when you slide in to sit right next to him on the backseat, and you instantly instruct the driver to start making the trip back to Jimin’s apartment downtown.

As the car begins to drive away from the tarmac, you suddenly feel hyper-aware of his presence right beside you. Sitting here at the back with him had never felt so stifling before. The space between you suddenly feels tighter than usual, and all you could feel is the heat from his body. All you could sense is the glorious scent of his cologne, and your whole body becomes sensitive to every single movement he makes.

Feeling the tension and worries that you might make a mistake, you try to hide your discomfort by looking out the window, watching the sight outside while the car makes its way back to the main road and Jimin is still busy keeping up with news on his phone. Both your blouse and skirt suddenly feels a bit too tight, the fabric feels too hot on your skin, though you are pretty sure that he might not have been paying much attention to your appearance today.

Not like he has ever given you any.

Jimin has probably grown used to being surrounded by gorgeous women—singers, models, all the young female artists who would do anything to gain any slither of attention from Jimin’s eyes—with immaculately done hair and makeup, expensive dresses and heels, and their smooth skin, while you have practically made yourself appear invisible whenever you are working alongside him. It had been marvellously done so you could focus on your job and avoid getting any spotlight aimed at you even when you would be there with him on some of his public appearances.

Even though he had never said anything about how you look or how you dress, you have somehow unconsciously started to upgrade the way you dress to make yourself look a bit worthy to be working beside him. At first, you had brushed it off by making those efforts as a part of your job. That it was simply one of your ways to be on his good side, especially when it doesn’t matter if you had been working for him the longest, Park Jimin doesn’t take lightly for any simple mistake.

You look down on yourself, eyeing on your blouse and skirt, before touching on your hair that has been styled differently. Taking notes of everything that had taken you almost an hour longer than usual to prepare before making your way to pick him up at the airport.

When the realisation dawns on you that you have, in fact, been making an effort just to please his eyes, the discomfort starts to feel even greater. Your hands twitch slightly on your lap, suddenly feeling the urge to pull the hem of your skirt lower to cover more skin. Your whole body itself has grown stiff, feeling completely out of your wits and finding it hard to relax beside him.

What the hell am I doing?

“_____?”

Jimin’s voice breaks you away from your reverie, snapping your attention back to him. You find him looking at you curiously the moment you meet his gaze and a plethora of emotions wash over you.

“Yes, sir?” you ask him, almost wincing at the way you have failed to stop yourself from sounding—hopeful. Of what, exactly, you really have no clue. Maybe you were hoping that he has been paying attention to you. Or maybe you were hoping that he would bring up the uneventful night that had you scrambling out of his room before flying out of the States the next day.

Maybe, just maybe, things really are changing.

His gaze stays on your face for a while longer before he suddenly looks away. There is no indication whatsoever to show that he has caught on to what you have been thinking about, and you have no idea whether you should feel relieved or disappointed about it.

But why should you feel disappointed at all? You have never mattered as much in the first place anyway. After all, you are nothing else but another employee to do his bidding. And that is what has brought you here today.

And he has no qualms of reminding you of it.

“Give me all the updates you have for me and let me know everything that I’ve been missing on. Let’s start with what I have this weekend. What’s the itinerary for tomorrow?”

And just like that, he puts you back in your place, and you have no other choice but put your mask and your big girl shoes back on. Looking away, you clear your throat to get yourself together and start tapping on your tablet before you begin relaying his schedules for him, making sure that he has everything lined up and that the rest of the day would go on smoothly as you go back into the old pattern that has been formed between the two of you for years.

The cold and distant employer who has a thick wall built around him to keep people from getting too close, and his diligent little employee who does everything she could not to break apart under the uncompromising way he treats you.

“So, how was it?”

“How was what?”

Tonight is Saturday night, the day after Park Jimin’s return to the city and almost twenty hours after you reunited with him. You are sitting in your living room, down in your tank top and pyjama pants, scooping up ice cream straight from its tub after dinner. You have your laptop right in front of you, with Yerin’s face taking over the screen as you are spending the night chatting with her through Skype.

Yerin is another assistant working for a different singer from the same recording company as Jimin’s, and she has become a trusted ally who has always been there as your confidant. Simply because she practically endures the same thing you do—to work under a high-strung celebrity and hidden behind the spotlight even when you sacrifice your blood, sweat, and tears to do your job.

You didn’t immediately click with her when you first met her at the company many years ago, until the day you had found out that you were both sharing the same dilemma other than the ruthless job description you have had. That you both shared the need to push down your pride and emotions to be able to function properly under the talented artist you are working with. That alone had opened the door for you to trust her enough to confide in her, to share your troubles when it comes to dealing with your work.

“How was meeting your boss again and having him back in the city? I mean, come on. What else would I be asking you?” she says, making dramatic gestures with her hands before her eyes brighten up and she starts wiggling her eyebrows. “Or did anything interesting happen?”

“No, nothing happened other than the glorious welcome I gave him at the airport. That, and the long, boring drive to his apartment while rearranging his schedules because he needs to have a break this weekend. And that’s just about how excited my life has been for the past 24 hours,” you tell her, rolling your eyes at her hunger for gossip as you take a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

Your mind drifts back to yesterday as you lick the spoon clean.

The whole drive back to his apartment had become less intense the moment you began briefing him on his schedules and then taking the notes from the temp that had been sent in to take over your duties back in the States. But the situation only remained that way until you finally arrived at his home.

He barely said a thing as he ventured down the hallway of his apartment, leaving you at the door as you were directing the driver and the home staff to deal with his luggage. It wasn’t until you returned to his side when you finally noticed his fatigue, shown clearly on his face when he pulled his sunglasses off.

The worries you felt for him came so strong that you could barely hide it when you came to him and asked him if he needed anything. But he barely gave you any attention as he dismissed you instantly, sending you home and telling you to take the rest of the weekend off while he would be spending the time to rest.

He probably had noticed how high-strung you were around him to think that you would only become a disturbance if you had stayed. But he was also acting weird around you the moment he was home. He seemed different, as if he was holding back from something, yet you just couldn’t put a finger on it and figure out what it was.

You had felt a swell of triumph when you walked out of his home completely unscathed. Only now that you think about it, you feel somewhat—empty, suddenly feeling as if the distance between you two are becoming greater even when he is near.

“Honestly, all I could say is that it was—decent.”

“Decent?” She raises her brows.

You give her a shrug and avoid looking at the screen. “Decent. Because the only thing he complained about was the replacement staff taking my place after I left the States and, for the first time, he wasn’t chastising me or making comments about my job. So, yeah—it was rather decent.”

“Huh,” she scoffs and leans back. Yerin has been sitting cross-legged on her bed while she is on the video chat with you, enjoying her Saturday night like you do—embracing the leisure of being on your own comfy bed without being stuck in the stuffy manager outfits you both always wear when working.

“That’s good, I guess. Remember when you first started working as his assistant? You could barely stand the guy. I can’t remember seeing you without getting anxious before meeting him each time you were on schedule, or seeing you without a permanent scowl on your face after dealing with him whenever he was done with his long tours.”

You pinch your lips together as you think about it. It shouldn’t be any surprise for you to know that other people could sense it too, that you have always been agitated whenever you are around him. As your employer, Jimin is rather demanding when it comes to his needs. He is also not an easy man to work with, something that most of the staff working for him had admitted to as well. Which has become the reason why people keep questioning on how you could stand working with him for years.

“But seriously, was that all you guys talked about? Work? Nothing about what happened back in the tour and—I don’t know—try and find out what he was up to when you weren’t there with him?”

“You know I could always find out about everything that happened while I was away from the other staff,” you tell her while waving your spoon at the screen. “And I’m not about to prod him on his private life. None of those things are my problem.”

You look away just as you said it, focusing on the dessert on your lap which has been reducing quite fast during the video chat. Even if you were not completely lying when you said that your boss’ personal life would never be your problem, it still doesn’t stop you from caring.

Because there had been times when his personal life really did become your problem. Mostly because they had become a complete mess and you were the only one who could fix them for him.

And it certainly is not helping you from overthinking about it when Yerin suddenly asks you, “Aren’t you worried?”

You look up, sending her an incredulous look. “About what?” you ask her, still hiding the fact that you have been worried about him. “I’m not his babysitter. I can’t watch him 24/7 and he’s a grown man who can make his own decisions.”

Your hand stops midair after scooping up a big bite of ice cream as your mind once again drifts off. The night you met him in his hotel room comes back. You could still see him there, sitting in the dark corner of his room while you stood there, unable to do anything but watch as he unravelled the facade that he had kept on for so long.

He had shown them all to you, albeit not on purpose, and then you ran away the next day.

Your eyes could barely focus on Yerin’s face as you snap yourself back to present, and your words simply come tumbling out of your lips, “I’m not getting paid enough to deal with him and his life as it is, with how busy he is going to be now that he is back. The last thing I need now is to deal with his life outside of work. Especially if he chooses to get himself in trouble again after he had gotten himself out of trouble for years.”

You hear Yerin chuckling softly and your eyes lift up to her on the screen. “Right. It’s not like you weren’t there when it happened the first time either though. And you had done God level’s work to bring him back in line to be the way he is now,” Yerin easily reminds you of the time in your career that had defined your relationship with Jimin. And also the reason why he had entrusted every single thing in his life in your capable hands.

Five years ago, Jimin was a disaster waiting to happen.

He was a constant fixture on tabloids, gossip news, and while his talent—his beautiful voice, his gorgeous face, and his fluid moves on the stage—had been a part of him that had gained him the fame he has today, it had all come together with various rumours, simply because he enjoyed having too much fun. And he was just a little bit too much to handle.

He was, quite literally, the life of the party.

For the public and for his dedicated fans, he was a beacon of light, always fun to watch and to be around. For the recording company, he was a nightmare. Not a single person working for him knew how to handle him and he had gone over more managers than any other artists in the company would. Most of them had given up when he would get himself into trouble faster than anyone could do any damage control to cover his ass.

He would stay up all night or out on random parties instead of keeping up with his schedules, missing out on a lot of them—whether it was his live shows, fan meetings, or interviews, and more often than not, his recording sessions. He would refuse to follow the rules, drinking instead of practicing, ignoring all the warnings from his managers and agents when he would go out on clubs, appearing in public with different girls each night, breaching multiple deals when he kept failing to show up for work.

It had come to a point where his company was backed into the corner with his unruly ways that they had decided to give him a firm warning—to get his act together or they could end his contract. And that was when you came into the picture.

Under his company’s warning and demands, Jimin fired every single person working for him then, cutting off his connections to the parties, to the enablers that had pulled him into his bad habits, before finally hiring you as his personal assistant. He had found you through his agents, who had vouched for your ability of organising his work and his life the way nobody else possibly could. It was a huge challenge for you to take, while at the same time, it had also felt like a punishment when he handed all the tasks from his former staff and employees into your hands. As if he was dumping all of his own weight on your shoulders and placing the anger he had for his bosses on you.

Yet the harder he threw the ball your way, the harder you returned them. Meeting his demands with grace as you tackled them all single-handedly until you gained his trust that, in the end, it had led him to keep you around much longer than any other staff who had ever worked for him before you came into his life.

Ever since you had started working for Jimin, you would always be there within his reach, either with a full itinerary that could choke every second of his day, a time schedule set in hand to help you orchestrate his entire life, or to simply be there for him to follow his commands. You were headstrong on getting him to follow the rules and to have him focusing on what actually mattered—his work, his music, and the fact that the company had invested a lot of money on him and his fame—and he finally did manage to clean his act together with your help. Proving not just him, but also everyone else, that keeping him in line had been something that you could do best.

Even if things have not always been all fame and glory when it came to Jimin. There were still multiple occasions where you had to spin a few of his scandals in the past when you were just starting off to work with him, and it had left a completely poor impression about him which had made you despise him at some point.

At least the feelings seemed to be mutual.

And you never really mind having it that way, just as long as he keeps himself away from trouble—as he has been for the past few years—and when everyone else around him still treats and regards you with more respect. Yerin has been one of those people, as she keeps on bringing it up on any chance she has.

“I don’t know anyone else who could do it like you do,” she says, nearly gushing over you through the screen. “Do you have any idea how famous you are among trainees and newbies at work? They call you ‘the woman with the iron fist’, the only one who managed to deal with Park Jimin like no other—man or woman—could.”

You look at her with a frown. “I don’t care anything about fame. What I need is more money.”

Yerin shakes her head at you. “I won’t argue with you there. These artists love to drain our blood to work for them and pay us with minimum wages we could barely breathe,” she scoffs, before her lips lift up to a smile. “At least you had not only earned his trust, but his attention as well.”

Narrowing your eyes on her, you begin to regret ever sharing your secrets with her. You blame it on the fact that Yerin can be a bit insistent and has always proven how good of a listener she truly is. And you were also partially drunk when it happened.

At least you were still capable enough to hold yourself back from telling her everything, only parts of the conversation that you had with him. Keeping everything else that might have gotten you—both you and Jimin—into trouble to yourself.

Though it is true that Jimin has been treating you terribly hard since you began working for him, leading you to loathe him and to constantly feel intimidated and degraded under his scrutiny, you have begun to develop something else. A different feeling that you had never once thought you could ever feel for him.

You had believed that your feelings have grown for Jimin because you had empathised with him at some point, when he has slowly begun to show a part of him that nobody else could see whenever he is around you. And watching him change and turn his life around has made you gain more respect for him that you began to care about him more than you probably should.

And thinking about him paying attention to you, looking at you differently compared to the way he has been acting around you, is not supposed to make you feel hopeful and happy.

“Now, that is where you’re wrong. The last thing he has ever given me is his attention. He still looks at me the same way he always has,” you tell her, though whether you are convincing her or yourself, you have no idea. “I’m not supposed to care anyway. I’m supposed to still be hating him. Plus, he is my boss.”

“I won’t blame you if you do care or crave for his attention,” she suddenly starts speaking softly. “Look. You are the best at what you do. But you are also human. And it is quite normal for a living, breathing human being to want something and to feel certain things.”

As everything she just said to you slowly sinks in, the words that come out of your lips next are partly involuntary. “But I’m not supposed to feel anything else but respect for him,” you tell her, sighing deeply before continuing, “And as his assistant, I’m not supposed to feel hope for something—more. It’s already overwhelming as it is to be around him when I cannot tell what his mood is going to be like. How can I do my job properly when my brain gets too caught up in trying to figure out the reason why I always feel so happy being around him or why my heart beats differently when I look at him?”

“You could always ask for a transfer,” she says, shrugging. “Didn’t you say that there have been other artists asking you if you could switch jobs now that Jimin has other managers handling his work?”

Could I? — you suddenly wonder. Though you find yourself conflicted, half unsure if you could actually hand your position to someone else and also not sure if you could actually leave his side, for no matter what reason it would be.

And handing your position would not be an easy task. You may have been handpicked by Jimin and his agents in the first place, but you have since made yourself almost irreplaceable. And even if you hate the dismissive and contemptible way Jimin treats you, you still find the pride of having the few rare occasions when Jimin would run to you when he needs anything. Just like how whenever he needs advice and he would only take yours and no one else’s, or when he lets you run something important for him and gets you involved in a few decision makings that he needs to take.

Before you could even respond to Yerin’s suggestion, she has already begun rambling nonstop—

“You know what, maybe transferring is a good idea, after all. What if he is holding himself back because you are his staff? Maybe if you’re no longer working for him, he might be able to show his emotions—”

Rolling your eyes, you cut her off before she could go any further. “The only emotion he has for me is scrutiny. Besides, maybe it’s nothing. Maybe if I could just ignore it, it would simply go away and life could get back to normal.”

She raises her brows. “Normal? What exactly is normal about you and Jimin?” she asks you. “And there is no way he isn’t looking at you differently. Not after what you had told me about what happened the last time you were with him in LA.”

Your eyes widen, and you almost choke on your ice cream just as she said it. Bringing back the talk of your last night in the States brings you back the memory. And you hate the fact that you still cannot erase it from your mind.

“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything about him,” you mutter with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose out of frustration and regret.

“Unfortunately, I’m more than glad you did share it with me,” she teases you while wiggling her eyebrows. “Just admit it, you are secretly in love with him. It’s really okay to be honest with yourself. There is nothing wrong with falling in love with your boss.”

“Wait—who said anything about love? I only said I care about him. A little more than I should, maybe, but it’s nothing more than that,” you tell her, before you could even begin questioning yourself.

“Besides, we’re too different, Jimin and me. There is no way he would look at me the same way he would to those pretty models he had been with.”

Yerin only grins. “Have you never heard of that saying? That opposites do attract,” she teases, only chuckling softly when you narrow your eyes on her. “Which brings us back to our earlier topic. Did he really not say anything about it when you came to pick him up at the airport?”

This time, you could only shake your head and sigh. “No, we didn’t talk about it,” you tell her, biting your lips to stop yourself from saying—and I was waiting for him to at least bring it up. “He was drinking at the time. He probably didn’t even realise what he was saying or doing. And judging from the way he reacted when he saw me, it seemed like he doesn’t even remember.”

You press your lips together just as you think about that night, when you came into his hotel bedroom late midnight, finding him alone in the dark with a faraway look in his eyes.

The look that never faded away even when he turned to you, when he spoke with you, as if he was looking through you instead of at you. As if you were simply a figment of his imagination, a part of his dream. As if you were never there.

“Speak of the devil,” Yerin suddenly grabs your attention with her soft gasp. Only that she is not looking at you through the screen. Her wide eyes are locked on the screen of her phone while she has a hand covering her mouth. Whatever she is seeing on her phone at the moment has sent her jaw dropping. Judging from the look in her eyes when she finally looks up to the screen, it must not be anything good. “Looks like you have no choice but to get involved in his personal life again, after all.”

You raise your brows. “What do you mean?”

She sighs. “Check Twitter, girl.”

The serious tone of her voice has your gut clenching tight. Your skin bristling with a sign of something bad coming. Something really bad.

You toss your dessert aside and reach out to grab your phone from the coffee table, opening your Twitter app to find what she was talking about through the trending hashtag, only to have your own jaw dropping and the blood rushing down from your face when you finally see it.

“Oh, crap.”

This is certainly not how you had imagined spending your Sunday morning would be like.

Especially not after finishing one whole tub of ice cream before falling asleep last night. At least it was not a half bottle of tequila, you remind yourself. You probably wouldn’t even be able to walk on your killer heels if you had chosen to drink your hard liquor instead.

And already you could barely walk straight through the front door of Jimin’s apartment without having any hangover getting in the way already. You are definitely not in the state of mind of seeing him again this early.

The apartment seems quiet when you walk in. Jimin has a couple of staff working for him at home, from the cook to the driver and his bodyguard, who would constantly be around, while his housekeeper would only come over whenever he is not home. As someone who has a minor title as his house manager—which is basically just a fancy name for the head housekeeper, to be honest—you know everyone working here personally. You were the one who had interviewed at least half of them, after all. And you are also the one who manages their schedules, their job descriptions, and also spends hours on the daily basis to supervise them and make sure that they are doing their job well.

Today, however, it seems quite obvious that Jimin had sent his staff home. Because nobody has come out to welcome you as you stride across the entrance foyer to the main hallway, and there is no sign of anyone cooking in the kitchen.

After walking past a few doors, you could finally find him. He is standing at the center of one of the small guest rooms which you had altered into a small library to provide space for his extensive collection of books.

Jimin has his back facing the opened doorway. His eyes looking out the window, his hands snugged deep inside his pockets, the sunlight filtering into the room makes him look radiant despite the circumstances. You could see signs of his stress appearing on his face—from the faint lines under his eyes and how his normally perfect hair looks dishevelled, as if he had been running his hand through the soft strands one too many times in his distress.

You stop at the doorway, taking everything in. Park Jimin always carries a certain calmness with him that makes it hard for you to read his moods until the moment he speaks. You could still see that calmness on the faraway look he has in his eyes, though you could also see a hint of his vulnerability hidden in his gaze. Something that you have learned to catch on to after years of working with him.

And it has been the one that could always bring out the tightness inside your chest.

This was how you had found him that night in his bedroom. Well, almost quite the same. Except that it was late at night and you were both in a foreign hotel bedroom instead of this warm, familiar room. He had a glass of whisky in his hand, knuckles turning almost white around the glass instead of hidden away in his pockets, and you had ditched your work outfit for the day, showing him the vulnerable side you had never shown anyone before while he was putting away his own defense and exposed himself to you.

“I need you.”

Your body shudders when his voice echoes inside your head. Then you blink your eyes once, and the image is gone.

“Good morning, Sir.”

If your arrival or your voice has caught him by surprise, he sure as hell is not showing it. But just like how you had managed to quickly pull yourself together and hide away your feelings, Jimin is also quick to hide his own. The moment he turns around to find you there, the gaze in his eyes switches, only the calm and collected facade remains.

He nods rather absentmindedly instead of expressing his relief for having you come to his home this morning before making his way to the loveseat at the corner. He tilts his head once he sits down, giving you a silent signal to take the seat next to him, to which you comply.

“How bad is it?”

You press your lips together, not really enjoying having this kind of talk. “It’s all over the internet. The photos taken of you leaving the club with the female model, Sora, has spread on Twitter overnight and it has begun taking over the tabloids’ headlines this morning.”

You open your purse, pulling out your tablet and turning on the screen to show him every single one of the pages and gossip news showing Jimin, walking out of a fancy club in downtown LA with his arm around the model. While she had one arm wrapped around Jimin’s waist and the other barely able to hide her face from the camera. Each photo had been taken from one angle, revealing that they were taken by one source. The caption and headline that follow each photo says—

‘Our Party Boy is back! And look who the lucky girl he is taking home with!’

Jimin places the tablet on his lap. His jaw ticks with irritation as he reads all the headlines and scrolls through the pictures.

While he is at it, you keep your eyes on him to gauge on his reaction. Deep inside, the questions begin to line up.

Why didn’t you tell me that you went out clubbing while in the States? How much did you drink while you were out partying that night? Did you take Sora back to your hotel?

Would you have gone and met her if I had stayed?

Your body reacts involuntarily just thinking about him and the pretty model. After you had seen the pictures spreading on Twitter last night, you have done all you could to avoid looking at them again. Once again, out of nowhere, the tight clench in your chest grows more intense to each time you think about him touching her, of her clinging onto him, placing her arm around his waist and pressing herself so freely while he has been untouchable by your own hands.

His deep sigh snaps you out of it and you sit back, straightening your back as you prepare yourself to hear what he has to say. If he says anything at all. His eyes find yours and you could see a wave of emotions through his gaze—is it guilt? Disdain? Or perhaps something else?

For one, he has never shown you any semblance of regret whenever he had gotten into this kind of trouble in the past. But now—

“So what’s our next step?” he asks, handing you back the tablet as he forces himself to relax.

Keeping your tone clipped and professional, you look away from his gaze and back to your tablet, showing him the schedule that you had set up to deal with this matter tomorrow. “Your agent and a representative from the company is going to contact Sora and her management to have her statement, let her tell her side of the story about that night. You both need to have the story lined up and clear things up—”

You stop for a moment, not sure if you could continue without letting your emotion show when you add, “—about what happened between the two of you, so our publicist can release a statement. But that also means that you need to tell everyone—” including me, “—if there is anything between you and Sora.”

You swallow thickly once you are done, half expecting to see Jimin waving things off and trying not to hope that he would deny it, release you from your worries and the dread that has been torturing you all night. Until he does it anyway, merely moments before you are running out of patience and start asking him directly about it.

“Nothing happened,” he says with his brows creasing. With a sigh, he shakes his head. “I wasn’t there to go partying, if that’s what you’re talking about. I got bored at the hotel and was pissed off by the incompetent staff running my errands, so figured I could get some time off and get some fresh air. I was only out for a few hours then I stopped to grab some drinks before getting back to the hotel. I entered the club because it was on my way back and met Sora there. She had lost her guards and escorts. I walked her back to her hotel since she was so drunk then I returned to my room for the night. Alone.”

He keeps his eyes on you the whole time he is explaining you this, as if he is trying to make sure that you are listening. Though it somehow feels like he is trying to convince you to believe in him when he emphasises every single word he says to make you believe that nothing ever happened.

You refuse to dwell on it, however, snapping yourself out of it by clearing your throat and switching your attention back to your notes, avoiding his eyes once again before you could get lost in them. “Right. Well, as long as you could explain the whole thing and have Sora support your statement, I’m sure our publicist can prepare the perfect press release to be published soon and have all of this die down before your next album is out.”

You could still feel his gaze on you while you put your attention on your tablet. Your cheeks are heating up right at the spot where his eyes are looking. It takes everything in you to stop your hands from trembling as you type down everything he said.

“This is what happens when you’re not around me,” Jimin suddenly mutters softly, catching you slightly off-guard.

“You just need to be careful next time,” you tell him, and his frown deepens.

“Right.”

All too suddenly, he moves away, pushing himself off of the sofa and starts making his way out of the room. It sends you off to a limbo when he takes his warmth away with him in his departure. But the swift change of mood is enough to send you back to reality and out of the imaginary bubble your mind created between you.

Without looking back at you, Jimin returns to his usual self. Distant, devoid of emotions when he speaks, “I trust that you could handle it. So that’ll be all for now. We can discuss all of this again tomorrow in the meeting.”

The dismissal shouldn’t hurt so much, but you would be lying to say that it does not sting. You should have gotten used to it by now, to have him calling you in when he needs your aid only to have him sending you off the moment he is through with you.

Your head is still spinning when you make your way out of his apartment, your heels clicking on the marble floor while your mind is constantly reeling. You just cannot understand him most of the time, and it is certainly hard to understand the reason why he keeps pulling you close at one second only to push you away—harder each time—the next.

Cold, but also hot. Distant, yet vulnerable. Strong, but still gentle. He is a mix of contradictions, yet so beautiful, intriguing, tempting, while at the same time, tantalising.

One minute he was hot and open, then he quickly went cold and closed shut the next moment, leaving you close to losing grasp of reality the more you are dealing with him. You have been telling yourself that you could handle it. That whatever it is you have been feeling for him is nothing more than an infatuation that would someday disappear. That this whole thing had only started to brew inside you simply for the mystery that he carries with him, and the moment they are gone, they will be nothing else there.

At least, that is what you keep telling yourself each time you begin to try and analyse it.

You are the only one to blame for having all of these conflicted feelings burning deep inside you.

It took only one night to find out that there is a small semblance of care and empathy within you to have your feelings—all hidden and disguised—suddenly unlocked, to finally have them all spinning out of control. Growing too fast the moment you acknowledge their existence, and now you have no idea how to make it all stop.

But you need to try. You need to find out some way to be able to hold yourself together, to push this feeling aside so you could go back to the way you were with him before the entire tour happened, before he had let you see him through his mask. Just like how you had helped him gain his focus back on his work, you would have to take it a step at a time and brush this feeling you have for Park Jimin until it becomes no more. Until his dismissals and avoidance could no longer hurt you. Until his presence no longer sucks the air out the room.

But how much time do you need, and how much more can you take, before you finally break apart under all of this pressure?

—3 WEEKS AGO—

“I need you.”

You had retreated back into your hotel room and had been there for a few hours, and you were getting ready for bed when his phone call came in.

Your hair was already down, your makeup had completely been wiped off, and you had changed your manager suit into your silky nightdress. But none of that mattered the minute you heard his voice on the call. You had nearly gone barefoot when you left your bedroom, your worries had made you hasty when you turned and made a run for it to his hotel suite.

There was desperation in his voice when he spoke, his words breaking that you could feel his pain.

Something was wrong.

You were grateful that Jimin had always let you keep a spare keycard to his suite. After knocking and pressing the doorbell a few times without getting any answers, you opened his door and slid inside to find him.

The entire suite was dark, so you were half expecting to find him already fallen asleep. But it was your duty to make sure that he was safe, which became the reason why you went in anyway, entering the living room hesitantly until you found him.

He was sitting on one of the chaise sofas, looking out the window with the kind of look in his eyes that you have never truly seen coming from him before. Not often, since he had always been so good at hiding his emotions. He had always been so guarded, constantly pushing people away—especially you—whenever they got too close.

That night, he was like an open book. Nothing was stopping him from showing all the mix of emotions through the look in his eyes. It wasn’t until you walked closer when you noticed the half-empty bottle of liquor on the table beside him and the glass in his hand.

“Sir? Is everything okay?” you nervously called him as you came closer, only to have no reaction coming from him. “Jimin?”

This time, as you called him by his name, he flinched and snapped out of it. Though the haunting look in his eyes stayed the same when he looked at you.

“You came,” he said, almost a whisper.

You came to him with a frown, taking a few tentative steps towards him as if he would break if you weren’t being careful. “You called me just now. What is wrong? What do you need?”

He rose up from his seat and stalked closer. The look in his eyes came clearer now and it made your heart race.

“You’re not wearing those stuffy outfits.”

Confused, you looked down only to gasp, finally realising now that you had gone to your boss wearing a nightdress, with only a thin robe to cover yourself. You tightened the robe to cover it and hugged yourself just as he came closer, bringing his warmth around you as he stood at the center of the room with you.

“I’m sorry. I was getting ready for bed when you called,” you nervously explained yourself, afraid that he would comment on how inappropriate it would be to enter your employer’s room looking this way.

“I like seeing you this way,” he told you instead, still with a whisper. Your body shuddered as he reached out, only to stop himself, not sure if he should continue. As if his touch could hurt you. But he was no longer looking at your clothes. He was looking at you. He looked straight into your eyes, before his gaze trailed on your face, as if he wanted to memorise everything.

And you never realised just how close you were standing to each other until he spoke again. “You are always there for me. Always. Whenever I need you, wherever I’ll be, you’ll be there.”

You could feel your heartbeat pacing differently inside your chest. You had never been anywhere close to him before. Not this close.

As he touched the loose strands of your hair, your voice had somehow become hidden somewhere inside your chest. Your lungs were not even working and your chest felt so constricted you had to suck a deep breath. Still, no words could come out. Not only that you could not speak, but you had also lost your ability to think straight.

And he was the one carrying the glass of whisky in his hand.

Standing near him was like being too close to the sun. His presence was so strong, it engulfed you like a flame. But you were too blinded by his beauty and by the haunting look in his eyes to care.

“It’s a part of my job—” you choked out, almost failing to speak. “It’s my duty to be there when you need me.”

His brows creased. “Your job—” he said, echoing your words, though it almost seemed like it was taking him a lot just to let it sink in. Instead of responding, he leaned in, your noses almost touching, and it almost looked like he was about to kiss you. You held your breath. His eyes moved down to your lips, then he stopped.

He took one long shuddering breath and closed his eyes. “I’m so exhausted.”

For the first time, he looked as if he was breaking apart. You have never seen him this way, and you had no idea just what to do. A part of you wanted to push him away, yet another part of you wanted to reach out to him, to hold him and tell him that everything would be alright.

So you did the next best thing. The only thing you knew wouldn’t cross the line with your boss. Not too much.

“You’ve had a long day, it’s normal to feel exhausted,” you told him then while placing a palm over his chest, gently pushing him away. You could feel his heartbeat racing against your palm, but you tried to focus on reaching out with your other hand, to gently pull the glass he was carrying from his hand and took it away.

“You had interviews after interviews—” you continued, wincing when you remembered the hosts from the talkshow and the radio show he was invited in all day, everyone who kept giving him personal questions, prodding into his private life when he was supposed to be there to talk about his music. As if his music didn’t matter. “—you also spent all afternoon practising instead of taking a break.” You kept talking, pulling his attention away from his drink, from you, as you placed the glass away at the table beside you.

His hand was still hanging mid-air with his hazy gaze locked on his palm, as if wondering just where his drink had disappeared to. “And I should have known that the photoshoot would last all night long. I should’ve arranged your time schedule better. Forgive me.”

Jimin gave no response, but he moved his eyes, finally looking at you again. You took his hand and gently pulled him towards his bedroom. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

He nodded before letting you take him with you. He seemed so fragile when you guided him to lie down. And he stayed still as you tucked him under the comforter.

Jimin had his eyes closed when you returned into his room with a glass of water and a couple of hangover pills to place on the bedside table, but he opened them just when you pulled away.

“Thank you,” you heard him whisper. Reaching out to grab your hand, he brushed at your knuckles, mumbling softly just as he was slowly drifting off to sleep, “You are the only one I could trust. Everyone else—they all want something from me and they’ll all leave when things get rough, but you—” he sighed, and his voice was already fading that you barely caught it when he added, “—you’re always there.”

—P R E S E N T—

On Monday, you join Jimin to work at his recording company as he begins the process of working on his next album.

The day had started with meetings after meetings in order to get him back on track after being gone for eight months. Early morning, you sat with him through a meeting with the executives where Jimin complained about having been given an inadequate temp when you were away in the final weeks of his tour.

Each time your mind is set on focus into these meetings and in handling Jimin’s business, the event happening the other day at his apartment and everything else that came with it faded away easily, setting themselves aside to let you work without any distraction. Except that something else managed to grab your attention as the morning schedules continued on.

While Jimin is not a person of many compliments, he surprised you—and perhaps everyone else in the room—when he kept boasting on your abilities, further showing all the faults that the temp had for not being able to keep up with what you do.

Then the day continued with another meeting that had been set up with his agent and publicists to talk about the gossip that had been running on course through the weekend. The rest of the meeting was set to plan out some damage control. Again, Jimin praised the press release that you had created with the publicist to deny any rumours between him and Sora, without giving you any trouble before he let his agents send them out to the media.

Putting your employer’s peculiar behaviour aside, you are rather grateful that you had been able to put your head in the game. The relief from knowing that you have done a good job makes you feel lighter once the meetings are over. Bidding Jimin’s publicist and agent goodbye, you are ready to go about with your next tasks for the day.

Only that Jimin has a different plan for you.

“You’re staying until I’m done with the recording session, aren’t you?” Jimin asks as you are leaving the conference room together, making you stop on your tracks.

His album wasn’t supposed to start its production process yet until next month, but it had been planned that he would have a duet song with another artist, whose schedule is going to be so tight that she is only going to be available for recording this week before she would have to go on tour. You were the one who had set the schedule for Jimin’s activities today. And since you had never been involved in his recording sessions, you had planned to leave while he is busy in the studio, as you are responsible to check on his home staff for the day.

“I wasn’t aware that I would be needed for that, Sir.”

“You probably won’t be needed in the studio,” he says, catching you off guard when he speaks in a nonchalant way before he adds, “But I’d love it if you stay until the recording is done.”

Though a part of you wonders what role you would have while he is in recording, you choose not to question it. “I—I suppose that could be arranged.”

Jimin nods. He begins making his way to the studio, walking so firmly down the hallway as he speaks, and you have no other choice but to follow close behind. “I also need to get some gifts for my parents. The dinner is Friday night, isn’t it? I forgot to get them something while I was still back on the States.”

“I already have some gifts prepared. I can have them ready for the night of the dinner.”

He definitely was not expecting that. Turning to you, Jimin raises his brows. “What am I giving them?”

“A couple of antique crystal decanters for your father, a Victorian-style tea set for your mother, and a couple of gift cards for first-class flights to any destination they choose.”

Jimin’s eyes light up with gratitude. “That’s quite excessive for a gift set. How did you manage to get them?”

“You got them. After you heard your father showing some overpriced crystal decanters on Amazon and after your mother lost her favourite tea set when they moved from their old house,” you tell him, keeping your face straight when you speak. “Oh, and you had also heard them talk about having a post—super late—honeymoon.”

“I did, huh?” he asks you without holding back his amused grin from showing. “Well, I hope those gifts can charm them next Friday to forget that I almost never joined their dinner parties before.” He turns away, continuing his walk to the studio. “You did a great job, ______. Thank you.”

Once again, Jimin caught you by surprise with his compliment. You instantly halt instead of following him, not sure how to react. “I—it’s my pleasure to help, Sir.”

He only responds with a nod. “I’ll wait for you in the studio.”

You barely have your head back on the ground when you finally make it to join him in the studio.

You had spent the past twenty minutes or so organising everything that is needed back at his apartment through a video call, grateful that you have appointed a home staff recently who you could hand over your tasks to as you need to stay with Jimin longer than you should have.

He has already stepped into the recording room when you entered the studio. And now you are sitting here, right outside of the small observation room with the glass wall separating you. He is currently talking to one of the producers who is guiding the session. He has his headphones hanging around his neck, his eyes are sharp as he is giving his rapt attention to the producer even when the man has turned to speak to the female singer standing in the room with them.

As always, your eyes stay on Jimin.

Watching him work like this has always made your heart swelling with pride. Even when you have been detesting him for how he has been treating you and how he acts around you, there has always been a part of you that has been secretly admiring him from afar, albeit hidden away under the pressure of your job.

Sitting here, looking at him only through the glass wall and only being able to hear his voice through the speakers, you cannot help but feel as if you are stuck in a time warp. You cannot deny the irony of things when you realise your position now, and where he is at right in this moment.

With you being in separate rooms, where you are sitting with the team of staff for his recording session and Jimin in the air-conditioned recording room with another artist and a multimillion worth producer creating his music, this scene is the perfect metaphor to describe both of your worlds together.

You are the staff, the employee, the secondary class in this music business. The help.

Meanwhile, he is the star, the spotlight, the one who leads the pack and has everyone following him close behind. He will always have the lights shining on him, while you will always be the one to stand in the shadows. Just the same way you are doing it now.

The producer leaves the room, and his assistant is there to take his place.

The exchange allows you to finally notice the other movements happening inside the room, and you catch it just in time as the female singer comes sidling a bit closer to Jimin.

Looking at her closely, your anxiety prickles through your veins. Nari—the female singer who is working with Jimin—is young, a newcomer, and she is incredibly gorgeous. Tall, stacked, skinny, dressed in an expensive-looking skin-tight black pants and a flashy top that is showing too much cleavage for a studio work, she looks no different than the rest of the female artists ever paired by the media to be on Jimin’s side.

Flame of rage burns on your cheeks when you see her reaching out to touch Jimin’s arm. The bitter taste in your mouth returns, followed by an uneasy feeling in your chest. As if there are sharp claws raking down your insides the more you watch them together.

This feeling is familiar, you realise. You had felt it before.

You had this same exact feeling whenever you had to clear any rumours of Jimin dating another female artist that he barely knows in real life, simply because some photographers had captured them in one frame during a local event. You felt it when you had watched him go through a few dates before, and whenever he drained you with excessive work while he treated his female colleagues with care and respect. You could even feel it when you saw those pictures of him with Sora last weekend.

You had always brushed it off, never truly understood what it had meant. Not even when it felt especially intense last weekend before you found out what had happened between Jimin and Sora, before Jimin finally cleared things out for you.

But this time, you finally know exactly what it is.

Jealousy.

And just like that, everything finally sinks in. Everything that you had been denying comes forward, engulfing you in waves without giving you a chance to escape. Then Yerin’s words come back to you, ringing inside your head like a taunt—

“Just admit it, you are secretly in love with him.”

Yes, you are finally admitting it. You kept refusing to admit that it could happen, but now it just seems impossible to stop it from happening—because it already has happened.

You love him.

And just like that, the glass mask that you have been wearing to hide your secrets shattered into pieces, and there is no stopping it when the real side of you that had been stuck inside comes crawling out. Unwilling to be denied even when the reality is right there, taunting you with what you could never have.

You could only look on ahead in silence, keeping a straight face each time you see someone from the recording room glancing your way—though you know that neither of them are looking at you, you realise, as the producer is now sitting right beside you. And you certainly cannot do anything about it when the female singer moves even closer to Jimin.

You can feel the heat of your tears pricking at the back of your eyelids when you see her perfect nails keep raking down Jimin’s arm as they talk to each other. Your own nails are slightly buried into your palms when you see her continuously flirting and flaunting herself to Jimin, from pulling her shoulders back to practically shoving her breasts to Jimin’s eyes, then laughing excessively to whatever Jimin is saying to her right before the recording session starts again.

You cannot help the burning jealousy that keeps pushing on and keeping a straight face quickly becomes a strain. There is no way you could stand keeping this terribly broken mask on until he is done with his work. But you have nowhere else to go, when he was the one who had requested for you to stay.

Then, as Jimin suddenly turns to glance at your way, you quickly look down on your lap, playing it off as if you are busy scrolling down your tab, knowing that it would be too easy for him to see what you are feeling if he ever meets your eyes.

With your head down and your eyes looking away, avoiding his eyes and his intense gaze, you curse yourself for letting this feeling grow this far and for failing to notice its presence until it is too late. Far too late. And you cannot let it grow even deeper.

You shouldn’t.

Because you should not be feeling anything when you look at him. Not when he never looks at you the same way you do to him. You need to remind yourself that you are both living in two completely different worlds.

And you are living in a world where loving him is not an option.

“_______!”

A familiar voice echoes through the hallway just as you are leaving the recording studio.

Today is the second day for Jimin’s pre-recording session for his duet, and once again, he had asked you to stay and join the process. Right now, as Jimin and the other recording staff are still finishing up in the recording room, you had excused yourself to take a lunch break, since they are about to have an evaluation that you have no part of anyway.

You turn around just as the person who had shouted your name comes closer. His bright face coming into view, giving you a broad smile as he matches your steps. “Jung Hoseok. How are you?”

“I’m doing pretty fine,” he says with a broad smile. He looks at you up and down, not even hiding his flirty smile as he tilts his head at you. “Don’t you look lovely today.”

Your cheeks flame and you wave it off. “Oh, please. I know you don’t mean that. But thank you,” you tell him while trying to hide your shy smile.

Hoseok is another artist under the company that you have become friends with for the past few years. He had already gained his own fame and success as an underground rapper and dancer for years before finally joining the company two years ago. Before you knew him personally, you had already become a fan of his that it didn’t take long for you to connect with each other. And you must admit that you have developed an innocent crush on the rapper at some point that you would always feel a bit skittish and shy whenever he was around.

It has been a while since you have met him but he still treats you the same. Always with a ton of bright smile and sly remarks that could make a girl squirm.

“I am always honest when I give my compliments,” he tells you as he joins you to walk down the hallway. “What brings you here today? Is your boss around?”

You give him a nod. “He has a pre-recording session today and he wants me to stick around.”

“Did he, now?” he asks you, raising his brows before looking ahead, keeping a small smile with him as he walks beside you.

“Are you heading out to lunch?” you question him as you are both heading towards the elevator and he only shrugs.

“I’m heading downstairs to the cafeteria and see what they have. I think they have bulgogi specials on the menu. Want to join me?”

You chuckle softly. “Sure, why not?”

Being around Hoseok is like a breath of fresh air.

He is an open book when it comes to his thoughts and feelings, and there is no need for you to tread carefully or to pretend to be someone you are not when you are around him. He is such an easy person to be around, while at the same time, pretty easy in the eyes.

His smile is also quite contagious that you cannot help but have it permanently plastered on your face as you sit with him through lunch. You talk about everything through the meal, and the conversation flows so easily between you as if you have been close friends for so many years.

“How much longer are you planning to work for him?” he suddenly asks you mid-conversation, just as you finished talking about some of the tasks you had recently done for Jimin.

You look up to him from your chicken frittata. A line forms between your brows while his eyes are glowing with mirth. “I’m sorry?”

Hoseok smiles warmly, in a way that you could see his dimples appearing through. “I just fired my assistant last week, since he kept messing up with my work itinerary and my schedules will be tighter with my tour starting soon. I’m not sure if you’ve heard anything about it yet, but I have the position open for the time being. You know that I’ve always wanted to work with you and you are excellent in your work. I really could have someone like you in my team.”

Your throat suddenly feels dry. Even his voice sounds like an echo that you are not sure if you are hearing him right. You grab your glass and chug on your iced water before you could find your voice again. “Are you offering me the job?”

He only responds to you by playfully wiggling his eyebrows. “What do you think?”

This is it, you hear your conscience screaming. This is your way out, your escape.

He leans closer, keeping his voice down when he speaks. “I also got some insight from Jimin’s agent who told me that he hasn’t been paying you enough. So if you agree to join my team, I’ll pay you twice the wage he gives you. I’ll even raise your pay three times of what he is giving you if you can handle all the lengthy tours and the small gigs I have every month in the nightclubs too. What do you say?”

You open your mouth, then close it again. Feeling elated for the offer, but at the same time, you feel nervous to even consider it. The offer really does sound appealing. Especially when it comes with bigger pay. You could already picture all the bills that you have been falling behind in paying, the things you could possibly buy, the places you could go to.

“I’m going to admit that it is definitely a generous offer,” you manage to squeak out, earning another big grin coming from him.

“I knew you’d agree.”

“But—” you quickly stop him before he could say anything more. “I’m going to need some time to think about it and if—I mean, ’if’—I am taking this offer, I’ll need to have a transition period before transferring myself to you. Jimin has just returned from his tour as well and I’m still easing him back into his tight schedule, so there are already some adjustments that still need to be done even without me leaving the team.”

Hoseok chuckles knowingly. “His team. Of course,” he mutters. It is not a secret that even if Jimin does have a team of staff backing him up, he would always run to you first. “Well, take your time and think about it. Think carefully about it. Then you can call me when you’ve made a decision,” he says, looking pleased with himself and confident as he leans back in his seat. Grabbing his glass of water, Hoseok looks at you with a sly grin. “But are you sure that is all?”

“What do you mean?”

He keeps his eyes on you as he takes a hefty drink, taking his sweet time with it as if he is taunting you. The moment he puts his drink away, a smug grin comes onto his face. “Jimin has a way to make a woman feel special and needed, just to keep them stringing along however he pleases. I was thinking if that’s also the case between the two of you, since you’ve been around each other for a long time.”

Your eyes grow wide, and you quickly shake your head vigorously. “I can assure you that there is nothing going on between us, if that’s what you’re implying,” you tell him with a scoff. “Jimin might be a tough case to handle, but I do love this job. The other people working around him have been the most remarkable and having them around really helps.”

“Really? Nothing at all?” he asks, sounding intrigued. “I’d thought with a gorgeous woman like you, Jimin would have made a move to win you over.” His words send your cheeks flaming, and your eyes grow wide. Meanwhile, he only laughs it off, obviously pleased to see your reaction.

“But you know what, it’s quite a relief to know that he hasn’t,” he adds with a smirk, and it takes everything in you to hold your jaw from falling.

Is he flirting with you?

The old you would have been pleased to find any hint of interest coming from him, though you might also be feeling disappointed to know that his interest had come with a job offer. But all you could focus on and care about now is the offer itself.

A better job, since he seems to be easy to work for and he has a huge team backing him up that you probably won’t have to do too much work, and with better payment.

Yes, you only have the job offer in your mind. Because no matter how many times Hoseok leans closer, how often he brings himself to playfully touch your hand or whisper close, and how often he compliments and flirts with you through lunch, there is nothing brewing inside you. There is no flutter in your chest, no heat burning on your cheeks from his flattery, and the only thing you could feel is guilt.

As if you are betraying Jimin.

Simply by sitting here with another gorgeous man who won’t stop flirting with you, and actually considering taking the job offer, to leave his side before you could risk breaking your heart.

It would be the best option for both of you for the long haul before you could risk what you currently have with him.

Yet why is it so hard for you to imagine yourself walking away from Park Jimin?

“Tie, or no tie?”

It is Friday night, and you are at Jimin’s apartment to help him get ready for his family dinner. As always, he had gone straight to you for advice. He looks lost as he comes to you with a blue tie on his right hand while his black suit is still folded and hanged on his left forearm.

“I think the tie would be too much. The suit is enough. Let those buttons loose to go for a more simple and informal look.”

Nodding his head, Jimin begins loosening a few of the top buttons on his shirt. The sight of him doing it makes your heart race that you force yourself to focus on his face. He doesn’t even notice it when he is so focused on putting on his suit, muttering with a sigh, “My parents rarely have these fancy dinners I don’t even know what would be suitable to wear on these things.”

You approach him, helping him with his black suit after taking away the useless tie from his hand. “This is a special night for your parents. It has been a while since every member of your family can finally come together so I’m sure they have put a lot of effort in preparing for this night,” you tell him once he has his suit on. You step back once he seems to be ready, taking your time to assess his looks before adding, “Tonight will be the first time for you to be there instead of sending flowers and gifts in your place. As long as you don’t show up with a plain T-shirt and jeans, I’m sure this look would be okay.”

Again, Jimin simply nods. “Noted.”

“The gifts for your parents have been loaded into the car, so you won’t be missing them. I’ve asked the driver to help you carry the packages once you are there.”

“Right,” he mutters with a deep sigh. “That’s perfect. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

You remain rooted at where you are while he turns to look at himself through the mirror, tugging and smoothing down the front side of his suit before he runs his hand through his hair, trying to go for a more messy look.

“Alright. Well, if that’s all you need, then I think I should leave for the night,” you politely say to him once you notice that he doesn’t seem to be needing your help anymore. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Jimin quickly turns around just as you begin to move away. “Wait—you’re leaving?”

Stopping on your tracks, you look at him with a questioning gaze. “Do you still need something?” you ask. “We have gone through the rundown for tomorrow morning. I won’t be needed until then.”

You watch as his brows crease, as if he is thinking hard about something. “That’s true, but you’re always here. You know, when I get home. You’d be here.”

“Ah, well—” you sigh, not knowing what to say. “I usually stay late to make sure that you are well rested before a show and make sure you’d keep up with your itinerary since we normally don’t have time to do it in the morning. But we’ve gone through all of that, so—”

“Do you play chess?” he suddenly cuts you off, making you stop.

“I’m sorry?”

“Chess. Tonight, once I’m done with this dinner. Would you like to stay and play?”

You open your mouth, yet the question dies in your throat. “I don’t really know how to play—”

Again, he frowns. Yet the determined look in his eyes stays. “Right. Then you can choose something else. Anything. You can even pick a movie if you’d like. Just—stay and keep me company,” he rambles on, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. Just as you begin to speak, or to question him about it, Jimin quickly adds, “I—uh, I know I should be resting tonight, but I’ve been getting trouble sleeping since I got back so maybe you can help me drain my energy after the dinner party so I won’t have to drink myself to sleep.”

You say nothing at first. Hope, uneasiness, hesitance, all mixing into one. The refusal is right there, already hanging on the tip of your tongue. Yet the look he is giving you makes it seem like he is not going to give up so easily until you give in.

“Alright. If that’s what you need. I’ll be here when you get back.”

The smile that comes to him is genuine, mixed in with relief when he whispers, “Good.”

The night has grown late.

You have sent all of the staff home for the night and it feels weird to be the only one remains in this spacious apartment without Jimin even around.

Looking at the time, you know that Jimin is bound to be home soon.

You have been pacing back and forth in his living room, feeling uneasy of staying this late and knowing that you are going to have to talk to him tonight. You have spent the last few days considering Hoseok’s offer, and the more resigned you have been feeling after you finally acknowledged your feelings for Jimin, the more you feel that taking the job offer would be the best option. And while you have been waiting for Jimin to return from dinner, your mind has somehow been made up to actually take the job.

Perhaps the transfer is a good idea, after all. Maybe, with more distance between you, you could finally live your life without having to constantly pretend and feel like you are pushed to the edge.

And these feelings you have for him would be a distant memory.

Just as you stop pacing and start twisting your hands together, you hear his footsteps coming through the foyer. It doesn’t take him long to reach the living room. His eyes brighten as he catches the sight of you. His coat has been slung over his shoulder, and you curse the fact that he looks even sexier now when he is exhausted and spent compared to how he looked before he left.

“You’re still here,” he says, almost not believing that you are actually standing there.

“I’m here for you,” you respond to him automatically, and you could swear that you hear his breath hitching for a moment before you add, “You did ask me to stay. How was dinner?”

He gives you a smile that makes your heart ache. “It was great. Lovely. My parents loved the gifts.”

“I’m glad,” you nod, then follow his gaze when he looks over to the table behind you, where you had laid out a bunch of board games you could find and a few DVDs to pick and watch. “I may have gone a bit overboard,” you sheepishly tell him as he walks past, touching the pile of boxes and carefully picking through them.

“You went all out,” he chuckles.

“I couldn’t make up my mind. And I think you’ve seen more movies than I do so I have no idea which ones that you haven’t watched yet.”

He tosses his suit aside, letting it fall on the armrest of the loveseat while he sits by the table. “Right. Let’s see—”

You walk closer, taking tentative steps to join him. “I might have to warn you that I have no experience in board games other than Monopoly.”

Waving his hand at you, he only laughs it off. “I don’t mind. Let’s try to start with something easy. Take a seat.”

His eyes rake down on you as you move to take the seat in front of him. “What the hell are you wearing?” he asks, sounding a bit irritated at the sight of your pencil skirt.

“The same clothes that I usually wear for work.”

Jimin scoffs. “Well, you’re no longer working now and it’s ridiculous to wear that when we’re playing board games,” he says. “Go to my room and grab a T-shirt. There are sweatpants and shorts too in the drawers. You know where to find them.”

“But, Sir. I—”

“And those heels. God, I’m sure your toes would thank you if you take those things off. Wear the house slippers that my Mom always wears when she’s here.”

“But—”

The way he raises his eyebrows makes you stop. “______, go change.”

You press your lips together and nod. “Right. Yes, Sir.”

You move quickly into his bedroom, choosing the first T-shirt you see and the shorts that you had helped the staff place in his drawers this morning. Relief washes over you the minute you have taken your tight fit clothes off and changed them into his clothes, and you softly moan with relief the moment your feet touch the cold floor. The heels do make your feet sore.

Being here in his room, wearing his clothes, his scent engulfs you, drowning you with his presence. You rush out of his room with your head spinning after wearing your hair down.

The heat of his gaze is the one that makes you look up when you return to the living room. His eyes rake down on you once again, this time with a hint of awe in them before they stop at your bare legs. “That looks—a lot better,” he says, and there is no doubt this time that there is a subtle groan in his voice when he says it.

You almost rear back, heat flooding your cheeks that you simply feel like you have to look away. “Thank you, Sir.”

He scoffs again, a bit lighter this time and with a smile when he responds, “And stop calling me with that. I already said you’re not working now.”

Technically, you are still working when you are only here to fulfil his wishes. But the look in his eyes stops you from saying a thing.

“So—monopoly, huh?”

Pressing your smile, you join him on the game table. Hoping that you could at least get on his good side before you could finally deliver the news of you leaving.

You never would have thought that playing board games with Jimin could be a lot of fun. If there is any side of him that you have yet to see, it would be this—the man who refuses to lose and continues to whine each time you win a score on him.

He looks at you just as you laugh, both of you have grown more relaxed than you had ever been when you are together. As your laughter dies down and your pulse returns to normal, you find him still looking at you.

“Is there something wrong?”

He smiles. “Except for the fact that I’m losing?” he chuckles. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Jimin looks down, picking up on the dice with his fingers, yet making no move to toss it back on the table. Before you could even bring it up, Jimin suddenly lifts his face and speaks first.

“There is something—” he begins, looking at you with an intense gaze. “I saw you with Jung Hoseok the other day.”

Your brows rise up. “Yes. I did encounter him at the recording company.”

“You seemed close. But I already know that you’re friends with him,” he says, giving you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “What were you talking about that made you seem tense and excited at the same time? You also went quiet for the rest of the day after spending the lunch hour with him.”

Your pulse starts to race once again. The thought of telling him about your plans of resigning from your position had already left you somewhere between stealing his properties and draining out his money during the game. You had it all planned out inside your head for the past few days—how you are going to bring up the resignation, how you are going to offer to be the one giving the interview in finding your replacement, and how you are going to hand out your tasks to them once he has chosen someone to take your place.

But now, everything vanishes under his prying gaze.

There is something new in his eyes. Something that you had never seen before whenever he looks at you. He leans closer, propping his elbows on top of the table.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

His words come out gentle, but you certainly hate the accusing tone that hangs around his question. It irritates you. Enough to finally straighten yourself up and finally let the truth that has been bothering you to come out.

“He offered me a job. A position as his personal assistant after he lost the previous one he’s been working with.”

There is no shock registered on his face, but the air suddenly trickles with tension when he slowly leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what did you say?”

You nibble on your lips. “I told him that I would consider it.”

His jaw ticks. He definitely does not like to hear that. “And what have you considered so far?”

The next part will not be easy. Yet now that everything has been laid out in the open, you have no other choice but to square up and brace yourself as you finally admit to everything. “I have been considering to take it,” you tell him, clenching your hands on your lap to stop yourself from shaking. “He made me a good offer that sounds too hard for me to resist. I love my job and I know I’ve worked for you long enough to be good at it, but he is giving me an opportunity to do something better.”

“An opportunity?” he sneers. “And you really think that it’s the only thing he is interested in giving you?”

“What do you mean?”

Scoffing, Jimin starts shaking his head. “Hoseok is a known player. I’m sure you’ve heard it too, since you’re good friends with him. He loves to play around, to lure any willing female by saying things that he knows they want to hear just to get them into his bed.”

Perhaps he is simply warning you to save you from getting into trouble, but the demeaning tone of his voice only angers you. Hearing your own employer saying things to make it seem like the better offer that you have been hoping to get has been nothing but a scam to get you into a man’s bed sounds degrading, and it pricks at your pride that you suddenly feel like defending it.

“Funny how he said exactly the same about you. And since I’ve been the one brushing off all of the rumours shadowing you and I had been the one to send all your stalkers and obsessed exes away in the past, I know that there is at least some truth in what he said.”

This time, his eyes grow wide in shock. As if your words had served as a slap to his face. Even worse, you are overwhelmed with guilt the minute you said it.

With a remorseful gasp, you mutter an apology before pushing yourself off of your seat. “I think I should go.”

“Wait—” you hear him trying to stop you, but you choose to ignore him. You hold yourself back from looking over your shoulder to see his reaction to your outburst as you leave him behind and rush towards the exit.

Before you could even make it out of the living room, Jimin catches up with you and catches you by your elbow. You turn to him, feeling your pulse racing faster the moment you see the desperation in his eyes.

“Don’t go,” he gently whispers. “Please.”

“It’s late. And we’re both tired and emotional. I don’t think I should stay here any longer than I should. We can probably discuss this further tomorrow so that—”

“I’m not just saying it for tonight,” he immediately stops you from talking. His hold on your arm tightens as he reaches out to hold the other, keeping you steady in front of him so he could look at you straight in the eyes when he says, “I’m talking about everything. Don’t leave me.”

“There are many others who could take my place. I really think it’s time that I move on—” because I have no idea how much longer I could keep this feeling a secret, “—and it would be best for you to find a more capable assistant to—”

This time, he doesn’t stop you with his words. With a not-so-gentle tug, he pulls you close. Your body falls against him with your palms landing on his chest, before he catches your lips with his own, stopping every rambling thoughts and denial threatening to come out of your lips with a kiss.

For a brief second, the world seems to stop turning.

It barely registers to you what is happening, as his lips brush gently against your mouth before he crushes them together with an earth-shattering kiss. The moan escapes your throat before you could stop it, and he uses it to dip his tongue inside, brushing it against yours. He sucks at the corners of your lips, kissing, teasing, until a few more moans come slipping out of you and the tension on your body slowly fades.

Your palms are still pressed on his chest when he slowly pulls back, while his arms had somehow found their way to wrap themselves around your waist. Being curled against his body, he has kept you as his prisoner. There is no escape for you when his lips find yours again, taking it gently this time when he takes your breath away with another kiss.

There is no other option but to surrender to him. To let yourself get lost in his warmth and in the recklessness of his kiss. Your hands are clenched tight against his shirt as you fall further into the delusion, letting your mind take its sweet time to let it sink in before you realise that this isn’t real.

Because it cannot be possible that after all this time, he really wants you. That he wants you just enough to be kissing you with this much desperation.

Your body stumbles to find balance when he pulls away. But with his arms around you, he helps to keep you up against him, making sure that you are close enough to hear his words when he whispers breathlessly,

“I tried—” he says, his voice is thick with emotions. “I tried so hard to pretend that I don’t feel a thing, that I’m not constantly looking your way whenever you’re near. That I don’t think of you even after you’ve left for the day.”

You could only stare at him, your throat burning with the threat of tears. Digging your nails into your own palms, you inflict pain to repel the pleasure that has been caused by hearing his words. Perhaps the pain could also wake you up from this dream, because there is no way that Park Jimin is actually saying those words.

To you.

“Sir, I—”

He opens his eyes, giving you a look which is both hungry and in despair when he begs, “Don’t call me that. Call me by my name.”

“Jimin—”

The sound of your voice calling his name ignites something inside him that he releases a deep groan.

His palms tighten against your covered skin as he pulls you back to him, his kiss grows deeper when he takes you again. Soft growls escaping with every touch, every time you return his kiss with the same need. Your fingers somehow find their way to slide up, tangling themselves through his silky hair the more you are lost in him.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Push me away. Hit me. Tell me I’m a bastard and get out of here while you still can,” he growls in your ear, kissing along your neck and throat before he begins letting you go. Except that you won’t let him.

Deep down, you know that you are heading to a new territory, and there is no return from this if you let it happen. But you also don’t want him to stop. Reaching up, you cup his face with your palms when you ask him,

“What if I want this? What if I want everything you want to give me? What if I want you?”

His palms run down against your ass, clutching on them possessively when he continues to kiss you, then uses the tight hold around your body to hoist you against him so he could take you with him into his bedroom.

The next thing you know, he is dropping you on his bed. He helps you lie down on your back while his kisses trail down the column of your throat. He makes a quick work on your clothes, pulling them off before peeling off his own until he is down on his briefs and you are simply covered in your lacy bra and panties.

“You are incredible,” he whispers as he takes in the sight of you, his hungry gaze running down your body before he finally climbs up the bed.

Your whole body melts so easily against him as he lowers himself, his chest brushing against your body as his lips crash against yours. His mouth moving gently on yours while his hands run down your body, each tip of his fingers leaving hot trails on your skin.

His skin feels hot and smooth under your fingers as you run them down his back, tracing the lines and angles of his muscles and spine, making him flex against them. His tongue flicks against yours while he bucks his hips into you, and your arousal comes to you like a flame licking at your center.

Lost in your own desire, your body begins to move on its own. Your hips swivel beneath him, pushing up your center against his crotch. You moan at the feeling of the rigid shaft hiding beneath his briefs as you brush against him, your pussy throbbing with need.

Jimin pushes himself up only to begin trailing his kisses down your body. His eyes flicker up to look at your face for a moment, waiting for you to stop him, only that you simply nod, urging on him to continue.

He lowers his head, pushing the intricate lace front of your bra out of the way so he could lay a kiss on your breast. He begins gently, kissing around the hardened nub before taking its peak into his mouth, sucking and nibbling the perked nipple until the pleasure comes running down your body.

As the pleasure intensifies, he takes the other peak and does the same thing, feeling the other nipple hardening against his tongue before he bites on it, sending pain and pleasure which you embrace with a breathless cry.

With one hand, he kneads at the other breast, while he finds the source of your heat between your legs with the other. Another cry escapes through your lips as he presses against the soaked center of your lace panties, finding your folds easily and presses down on it, before his thumb brushes against your covered clit.

Your arousal comes flooding out, and your cries intensify as he presses harder, sending your hips jolting up, swivelling above the sheets, pressing against his fingers so he could release you from the agony building up inside.

All of a sudden, he pulls back and starts crawling down. His hot kisses burning your skin and your pulse rises the moment you feel his hot breath falling on your covered mound. He pulls your legs apart, sliding between them before pressing his mouth on your covered pussy.

“Jimin—!”

His lips move hungrily around your clit, and his fingers run an electric pattern when he brushes at the slit, before sliding the panties aside so he could slide his fingers and tongue inside. You buck your hips each time he rolls his mouth on your swollen bud from over the lace, then cry out as his fingers slide in, moving deeper each time you move your fingers.

You have never felt more alive than you do now. As if each kiss, each touch he gives has made your body come wide awake. There is a fiery current running up and down your body, from the tip of your hardened nipples to your core. And he is there, orchestrating every single sensation, every impulse, while he continues igniting all the new ones.

“You’re getting wetter and wetter, ______,” he grunts against your cunt. “I think I can make you come like this.”

He barely manages to finish his sentence, and already you are losing the battle. With one swift push, his fingers reach deeper, pushing deep against your walls while thrusting you over the edge, and you erupt under his talented mouth and delicate fingers. Your body arches while your pussy walls throb wildly around his fingers.

“Jimin, I’m coming—!”

“That’s it, baby. Fuck my fingers and cum around it,” he groans. His tongue flicks to the side, sliding past the lace and finds your clit. He pushes his fingers deep, and takes your clit between his teeth, sending you to another bliss until you see nothing but white clouds under your eyelids.

He helps you come down from your high with a few gentle thrusts of his fingers, his tongue licking your release until your panties grow soaked and start clinging against your skin. As the soft spasms of your climax start to wane, your walls begin to throb with a new desire.

“I want you, Jimin,” you breathlessly beg him, looking up to him just as he reaches down, stroking his cock from over his briefs. Judging from the rigid lines, it is obvious how his cock has grown so hard it looks almost painful while being locked under the restraints of his briefs. “I want you inside me.”

With a low growl, Jimin pushes his briefs down before he does the same to you. He grabs the side of your panties and rips it off of your hips. The shock of having your last barrier snapped away from you is followed by the sight of the glorious, throbbing rod of steel pointing at you the moment he releases himself from his last restraint.

He barely gives you any time to recover from the shock as he nudges your thighs wider apart and positions the thick head of his cock at your opening. Instead of pushing, he guides himself to move away, guiding himself up and down your slit and then forming a circle around your slick entrance, up to your clit, then back again, until he finds a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

“This. I’ve pictured this so many times before,” he says, grunting softly as he continues rubbing himself against you, making you squirm and shift beneath him each time he moves his cock up and down between your cleft, brushing the hard tip against your throbbing, needy core.

Your hips begin to move, feeling the need to have him inside you. There is no doubt in your mind that he could easily see how desperate you are for him when he never looks away from you. But he takes his time. His hips moving and swivelling slowly as he guides himself between your legs, his eyes moving down your body until his gaze connects to yours.

“You’ve thought of me?”

“You have been a huge part of my fantasy. I kept pushing it away because I couldn’t afford to lose you. I've been so afraid for you to find out only for you to run away. So I chose to ignore it, until that night—” he says, stopping when his emotion makes him choke, the words getting caught in his throat that he has to clench his jaw before he could find his voice again without trembling. “Until I saw you that night, wearing that little nightdress, looking vulnerable and unguarded, and all I could ever think about since then was to take you into my bed and make love to you until you would no longer look at me with resentment, that you would never look at anyone else but me, ever again.”

Your mouth drops open, before rounding into a silent moan as he slowly pushes himself into you. His presence has always been so strong. But now, it sure feels like he is everywhere. His warmth enveloping you as he hovers on top of your body, his length buried between your walls, throbbing at the same rhythm as your pulse, and he is deep inside your mind, right where he always has been. Except that you also find him inside the deep recesses that you have never allowed yourself to go to, never knowing that he has been there all along.

His smile is gentle when he looks down on your face, as if he could easily see that he had broken through the last wall you have put on to keep him out, yet there is no gentleness in his thrust as he enters you once again with one strong push.

Your body rocks with intense pleasure as he is finally inside you, filling you up. It feels so powerful that it knocks the air out of your chest and makes your mind grow numb. But your body reacts on its own, as your hands reach down to grab the sheets beneath you, clutching them tightly with your fingers and hold on as you push your hips to him. He wastes no time and starts pumping in and out, hard and fast, and you rock against him, your thighs spread for him and your hands are now clutching tight on his shoulders while moans after moans slip out of your lips with pure need.

He sets his hands on your knees, sliding them along your inner thighs as he gently pushes your legs wider apart for him. With your legs slightly pushed upwards, his cock moves in to a new angle. He reaches deeper as the next thrust comes, pushing the tip of his cock against the sweet spot inside you, earning a gasping moan from you. With a chuckle, he continues to push his cock against the very same spot, again and again. Soon, he has your legs quaking hard around him and your body growing tight with the rising pleasure rushing through you in massive waves.

He continues pounding into you, your bodies slapping together with a punishing, angry rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin, his feral grunts and your needy moans, are all mixing together as they continue to fill the room.

“Do you really think that you could leave me? When all I’ve done is to hold back, too afraid to act on what I feel for you because if I’d lose you, I’d lose everything. The only person who could handle me, the only person I trust, and the only person I care about. How could I let you go when I can’t stop thinking about you, every day and night, even when you’re near me?”

He sounds desperate and angry, and you feel his emotion rushing out of him as his thrusts continue to come harder and faster with every word he says. Instead of pain, your body reacts to the pleasure, beckoning him to give you more.

“Don’t stop,” you beg him while you keep swivelling your hips, pushing yourself against him so he could keep hitting deep inside your heat. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, baby. But I’ve been waiting for this a long time, I want to make this last and you’re gripping me tight—fuck,” he groans, his hips twitching against you as he holds back from releasing himself into his climax far too soon.

Slowing his strokes into a sensual grind, he lowers his head and sucks on your breasts, his hot mouth moving from one tip to the other, suckling on your hard bud and taking each one between his teeth with an urgency that sends your body throbbing in both pleasure and pain as he continues fucking you.

His name comes out in desperate sobs while you continue grinding your hips, moving faster just as he deepens his strokes. You reach up above your head, finding the headrest where you then press your palms against its surface to anchor yourself when he keeps sending your body jolting upward with each hard thrust he gives you.

“Shit,” he groans raggedly, his eyes watching you closely before reaching down to rub your engorged clit.

“Jimin—”

Anchoring himself with a tight grip on your hips, he leans up to kiss your lips. “God, I imagined this for so long. I fucking love you, ______.”

Tears spring to your eyes. Your heart soars as you hear his words. “I—I think I love you too,” you answer him with a sob, both from the emotions that come up to you in intense waves and for the pleasure he is giving you.

He thrusts into you, again and again, pounding hard and deep within your clutching walls. Crying out with pleasure, you come in a sudden plunge around his cock, yet you keep on riding his length while your eyes are closed tight, embracing the waves of your climax. Your screams echo against the walls of his bedroom, followed by his deep grunt as he pushes deep inside you a few more times until his orgasm comes to him in an exploding bliss.

He erupts inside you with a raw groan, pumping furiously into you through his release. The force of his hot cum spurting deep into your pussy sends you to another bliss running through your veins, sweeping off any logic, leaving you in a tight bubble that you feel building around you as you hold him close. A safe space where you could share this moment with him forever.

Moments pass by slowly as if time had stopped, and you linger in this position even as the spasms of your orgasm has faded into nothing. He too has grown lax against you, his arms still wrapped around your middle as if he is trying to anchor you in the present. It takes a while before he finally drops himself beside you. And he quickly finds you again, his arms reaching out to pull you into his chest before you could even think of running away.

Snuggled close against him as you are both bathing in the afterglow of your mind-bending sex, you listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat while the questions keep running inside your mind.

“What happens now?” you whisper to him.

Jimin tightens his arm around you, pressing you to his chest. “Now, we sleep. Tomorrow, you are going to hand me your resignation letter.”

“What—?”

He shush you just as you push yourself up, but the protest dies down on your tongue the moment you meet his eyes. “I can’t have my girlfriend working as my assistant. What kind of rumours we’ll be seeing on the gossip news when people finds out that we’re fucking?”

“Girl—girlfriend?”

“I want you, _____,” he whispers, kissing the tip of your nose after he said it. His eyes burning into you. “And I know you want me too.”

You choke out a sob before admitting to him. And yourself. “I do.”

“Then be my girlfriend. Please?”

You release a sigh. There is no more reason for you to deny everything. “Yes. I will,” you answer him before leaning in for a kiss. “And I’ll help you find a new assistant to take my place. soon. But then I’d still need a new job.”

He frowns. “There’s no need to. You will no longer be my assistant, but I still want you to be with me. I can’t do this thing without you,” he says, looking a bit sheepish when he admits how much he has grown dependent on you. Another reason why he couldn’t be honest with himself despite what he feels for you. “You are the only one capable of handling everything around me, to help organise my life when I couldn’t. I want us to not only be lovers, but also partners. And I promise you, I’ll treat you better.”

Kissing your forehead, he gently adds, “I know I’ve been a complete dick to you for years,” he says, to which you laugh as you agree with him. “But that’s only because I was too afraid to admit how much I care and how much I need you. I’ll treat you better. I promise. And I promise that I’ll take care of you.”

Your heart swells, but fear also comes crawling inside your chest. Too many things are happening too fast, but right here in his arms, you know that you can work things out. With him. “I promise to take care of you too.”

Jimin gives you a smile before he takes your lips in his.

“You always do, ______. You’ve always been taking care of me. It’s my turn now.”

➬ Author’s Note | Thank you for reading^^ The extended version of this story (unedited/deleted scenes included) is now available on my Patreon!

➬ The story continues: Falling - the trilogy

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