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#park jimin angst
dollfacerecs · 6 months
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— park ⋆ ji ⋆ min
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pjm fic recommendation list by clover. 🍀 ↓
♡ = smut ; ♤ = angst ; ♧ = fluff ; ♕ = favorite
main list
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♢ rage ; ♡ || one-shot (part of a series) — by @hamsterclaw
⇝ cop!jimin, hobbyist!reader // reader is so hot in this. so bratty n not afraid to speak her mind. jimin as well OOOOF. the fact he didn’t care to learn all that shit but kept going to see you lets go.
♢ when the camellia blooms ; ♤ || ? — by @tanniesjeom
⇝ hanahaki disease, unrequited love // i put the question mark cause i can’t find the first part anymore but part 2 can be read as a stand-alone so? oh well. sad. heartbreaking. just angst. it’s also been a whileeee since i read this
♢ faded love ; ♤ || one-shot — by @jamaisjoons
⇝ shitty marriage, cheater!jimin // again, read this years ago but i remember the development of jimin hating the counseling appointments and meeting you for an hour but slowly looking forward to them just for you to start giving up just good ole angst.
♢ horizon ; ♡, ♤ || one-shot — by @hamsterclaw
⇝ dystopia, sexworker!reader // beware, mentions of violent clients! jimin making sure to be gentle w u :(( running away w u :(((
♢ heartburn ; ♤ || completed — by @jiminrings
⇝ cheater!jimin, wedding season // this is more like emotional cheating but yes jiminrings has done it again. the way they write angst and the things they come up with im just… so obsessed w them like.
♢ pending…
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oddinary4bts · 2 years
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I want to be with you | pjm
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☆summary : moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?
☆pairing: Park Jimin x female reader
☆rating: 18+
☆genre: strangers (fan) to friends to lovers, idol!au; fluff, some slight angst, smut
☆warnings: cheating ex, mention of a parent dying, asshole jimin for a few moments, a tiny little bit of jealousy, alcohol consumption, throwing up (jimin and reader both be messy but they have other qualities I swear), explicit stuff: oral sex (female receiving), edging, fingering, badly written dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it babes), slightly dom! jimin, a little bit of spanking??, reader is shy and awkward and might give you a little bit of secondhand embarrassment, sad love confession
☆word count: 32.5k words (the funny thing is I edited to take out some stuff and ended up having a longer word count lmao)
☆a/n: Wow, I am so excited to finally share this with you. Before you read, I just want to warn you that English is not my first language, and I also have slight dyslexia. So, if there are any typos, feel free to tell me so I can edit them out! I hope you will all enjoy <3 (I have read it so many times that I hate it now but, yeahhh hopefully it doesn’t suck). Also, I usually exclusively write badass characters, and I tried to make the reader a softie sooo sorry if I failed hahahaha
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
1 month ago
               Moving days had always been excruciating to you. Long and exhausting, and you’d always dread the moment you’d have to drag all the boxes up to your new living place. Even more so today, as you were finally moving to Seoul, after months of planning the whole ordeal.
Seoul had been a dream to you, ever since you had been little. It was hard to figure out why – maybe it was the culture, or the clash South Korea was to your home country. To get out of your comfort zone and just step into a whole new world… it had been an exciting promise, really.
Or maybe home had just never really felt like home.
Yet there was something bittersweet, about Seoul. You had visited twice, in the past – the first time just on a trip, and the second when you had roamed around the city in search of a place to move to last February. Your mother had recommended this apartment, in a posh building that had seemed just a little overpriced for you. You had fallen in love with it, the moment you had seen the view from the spacious living room. You had known you had found a home for yourself as the Seoul skyline had come into view, bathed in the glow of the setting sun.
It had been a future home for you and your ex, and maybe that was really the cause of the bittersweet feeling Seoul brought to you. Indeed, you had been supposed to move here with Collin, but he had decided to stay back, and to not follow you in your dreams. You hadn’t been selfish enough to beg him to come – God knew Collin had his own dreams back home. To build a home, get married and have a plethora of children to fill the empty rooms of his home with laughter and joy.
Something you had never really wanted for yourself. So, you had parted ways, a month before you were set to leave, and you had spent that month putting everything in order, selling the stuff you couldn’t bring along. It had made you feel as if the old you was dead, and you were leaving her behind, in the cemetery that was your hometown.
Not a place you thought one would want to raise children in.
You hmphed as you balanced a large box on your hip, eyes scanning the hall of your building as you walked towards the elevator. You didn’t know what the box was filled with, and you couldn’t help but curse yourself mentally. Heavy boxes were a danger to one’s back, and you were already straining from the effort of holding onto it. But maybe that was because you had been a little greedy, adding a smaller cardboard container above that big one. The small box stood precariously on top – goddamn, had you put books in there? – and you eyed it from the corner of your eyes as you neared the elevator of the complex your new apartment was in. The smaller box started to slip, and you quickly put a hand on top of it to keep it from crashing to the ground.
You doubted it held something fragile, but you still didn’t want to risk breaking something.
Moving days were a pain in the ass indeed. Especially considering that your family hadn’t been able to travel to South Korea to help you move. It was you, all alone, and you had already done so many trips in the elevator that you knew it by heart now – from the fingerprints that someone had left behind on the inside of the door to the coffee stain on the carpet of it.
Or so you hoped it was a coffee stain.
The keys that you held in your hand under the box jingled as you reached forward, heavy box threatening to slip out of your reach, index finger pointed towards the button to call the elevator.
You sighed in relief as the sign over said elevator lit up, indicating that your little maneuver had been a success. You straightened, and a bead of sweat formed on your brow. The box really was too heavy. 
You watched the number over the elevator change as it came up from the basement, before stopping on the ground level, doors sliding open.
Sometimes, you wondered if faith existed. If there was a bigger plan to the universe, something written for you already that you couldn’t really escape from. It was the thought that crossed your mind as the doors finished moving, and a dark-haired boy – man – stared at you as you just stood there, mouth falling open.
See, there were a few things you liked about Korea. K-pop being one of those. And you had been a BTS fan for a long time now, part of the army that was their fanbase, and maybe that had contributed to your will to move to Seoul.
Actually, you fully knew it was one of the reasons.
But, nothing had prepared you for this moment. The moment an idol appeared in front of you, as if conjured by your deepest most secret desires. An angel, standing in the elevator, black hood on along with a matching mask.
It was the eyes though, that you recognized. You had spent so many hours looking at pictures of those eyes – really, you had never seen eyes such as his. And that gaze was now boring into yours, as if peering right to your soul, and you found you couldn’t quite move.
And who were you to blame, Park Jimin had always been your bias. Had been the reason why you had gotten into K-pop in the first place.
Jimin’s eyes skimmed over your figure for a moment, gaze landing on your keys.
On the goddamn Chimmy keychain that dangled from your hand, bright yellow that could have caught anyone’s eyes.
When his gaze moved back up to your face, you gulped, feeling very naked. Not that you were naked at all, but to have your bias standing in front of you like that… it rendered you completely unable to process what was happening.
“Are you getting in?” he asked in English, and there was a strain to his voice. As if it was threatening to fall into annoyance, but he didn’t want to let it go there just yet.
Your cheeks flushed bright red as your gaze dropped to the floor, embarrassment winning the war against your will to gaze at him until your eyes would fall out of your head.
You nodded, and you took two steps forward. Two steps were all that it took for you to step into the same elevator as Park Jimin. And it was surreal. He had always been just a picture or a video on the other side of a screen, except that one time you had gone to a concert. But right now, he was standing next to you, hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, eyes staring straight ahead. As if not even wanting to acknowledge your presence.
You stood awkwardly, arm starting to shake from the weight of the boxes. You glanced at the floor levels, and your eyes slightly widened as you noticed your floor was already lit up.
Was Park Jimin really your neighbor?
The elevator shot up, and the first acceleration had your arm straining to keep holding the box up, gravity threatening to win against your weak muscles.
You let go of the smaller container on top, using your chin to hold it in place as your other arm joined the one holding the whole thing. Your muscles sighed in relief, though you knew it would be short-lived.
You maybe should have worked out more when you were back home.
The metal jail in which you were encased was silent, apart from the humming it emitted as it moved up. And it really did feel like a jail, with the cold atmosphere that radiated from the man next to you. It was hard to ignore the harsh look on the small part of his features you could see, but you did your best not to look at him, as your prison passed all the floors until it finally reached the very top. The floor where only two apartments stood, on each side of the hallway, and really, how in hell could Park Jimin be your neighbor?
Your arms – plural this time – started shaking again as the elevator came to a halt, and it seemed like it took a small eternity before the doors slid open. Feeling the need to get away from Jimin, and from the ice you really didn’t want to acknowledge surrounding him, you quickly stepped out, moving towards your door. And maybe it was the rush in your steps, and the fact that your arms really were losing the fight against gravity, but the boxes seemed suddenly twice as heavy. Clutching to them proved to be useless, and the top container slid, wrecking the balance of the lower box at the same time.
You cursed as the two boxes fell to the carpeted floor, the cardboard of the larger one bending until a part of it ripped, revealing its precious treasure.
Your collection of BTS albums spilled from it, as if they were liquid, and your cheeks turned even darker as you immediately bent down, moving to pick them up before Jimin could see. A stupid thing to do, because he was standing right behind you, and the mess you had made took almost half of the hallway’s width.
With shaky hands, you tried putting the albums back into the box they had escaped from, but it only made it rip further. You stopped moving altogether as a pair of jeans-clothed legs stepped over the mess, and your eyes moved up, heart beating out of your chest.
Jimin didn’t once look in your direction as he moved towards his door – right in front of yours – putting in the code to unlock it. As the lock came undone, electronic whirring filling the awkward silence, he finally deigned to glance your way.
A hard look painted his features, and the judgment in his eyes slapped you across the face as your eyes met for a short moment. He seemed … somehow disgusted by you, as if the fact that you were Army made him want to get away from you as soon as he could. And you understood it, to a certain extent. He was famous after all, and he probably had had his share of crazy fans in the past.
That didn’t stop your heart from feeling as if it was being crushed in your chest, as if his fist had closed around it and he was about to rip it from your ribcage.
Jimin looked away as the lock finally finished moving, opening his door in a swift motion before stepping inside, not once looking back at you, kneeling there in the middle of the hallway.
When he disappeared from view, you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze falling back to the mess on the floor. You wondered when your vision had turned blurry, and it took you a moment to realize there were tears in your eyes.
You doubted you had ever felt as embarrassed as you were feeling right now.
You blinked the tears away, putting the albums in a neat pile before picking them up. It really did seem like gravity wanted to win the whole war, because the pile threatened to scatter to the ground again, but you managed to make it to your door without another accident. You had left it unlocked, and you pushed the door open with your shoulder, leaving the pile next to the wardrobe. You then went back into the hallway to gather the small container and the cardboard remnants of the traitorous box that had dared spill your secrets at the worst moment possible.
Well, the Chimmy keychain had been a traitor in and of itself too.
You moved into your apartment, kicking your shoes off by the door to put slippers on. You didn’t even look at the albums once, not wanting to deal with the shame that they still held and promised to be holding on to for a while. You left the small box and your keys on the island of the kitchen, which was the first room of the apartment, before tearing the broken package into smaller pieces you could fit in your recycling bin. You then moved through the space that was now yours, until you reached the living room, and the wide glass windows on the wall showed that same setting sun you had fallen in love with the first time you had come here.
You plopped yourself down on the black leather couch, sighing deeply as you ran a hand on your face, trying to shake the embarrassment away. And even if you knew it was early morning back home, you grabbed your phone, calling your mom on Facetime without an ounce of hesitation.
You looked at yourself on the phone screen for a time, as your living room filled ringing, until your mom finally picked up. From what you could see of her surroundings, she was on set.
“Hi sweetie”, the gentle voice of your mother said through the speakers of the phone. “How was moving day?”
“Mom, why did you recommend this apartment building again?” you asked, ignoring your mother’s question. “You did not tell me BTS would be my neighbors.”
Your mother didn’t reply as she moved away from the lights of the set, clearly searching for a calmer environment so you could speak privately. You glanced away from your phone, eyes once again sliding to the setting sun outside the windows.            
“I didn’t know that BTS lived in that complex”, your mother finally replied as she seemed to find a place she judged calm enough. “I just knew it had the reputation to be very safe and private, and with your dad and I being who we are, I just figured it be best for you.”
Here’s to having a famous mother and an extremely filthy rich dad.
“Park Jimin lives next door.” You put a hand over your face as your cheeks burned red. “Mom, he seemed so disgusted when he saw my merch.”
“He helped you move?”
You shook your head, hand falling back into your lap. “No, I dropped a box in front of him and all my albums came out of it. He just scowled at it before going to his place.”
The smile that had first lit up your mother’s face slowly dwindled away. If someone knew how obsessed with Park Jimin you had once been, it was her.
“Oh”, she let out. “Maybe he was just surprised.”
“No, mom, I swear.” You gulped. “He was disgusted.”
Your mother chuckled lightly. “I’m sure you’re making it seem worse than it was. Besides, you met Park Jimin!”
The last sentence was said on a giddy tone, but it didn’t reach you at all. No, it just made you feel worse.
“Mom, I didn’t even say a word to him, I was way too shy.”
“My daughter, shy?” Your mother shook her head, even though you were very much so a shy person. “Again, I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you’re saying.”
You sighed loudly, nibbling at the dry skin of your bottom lip. “Well, it was.”
 “Sarah, we need you on set”, a voice said in the distance on the other side of the line, barely even audible to you. You watched as your mother looked away from her phone, and it took a few seconds before her eyes trailed back to it.
“Listen, sweetie, I have to go. But why don’t you go introduce yourself properly to him? After all, you’re neighbors.”
“Mom what? I’m not in one of your movies, I won’t do that.”
Sarah pursed her lips, before once again glancing away from the phone. “Well then, have you finished moving already?”
You shook your head no. “I still have a few boxes to move up.”
“You should have hired a moving company to help you”, your mother said reproachfully.
“Shipping everything here was already expensive enough”, you pointed out. “It’s fine, I’m almost done.”
“Alright sweetie.” There was a silence as a soft smile slowly spread on your mother’s lips. “I can’t wait to come visit you after we wrap up this movie.”
“I can’t wait either”, you replied, and you swallowed down the lump that had threatened to form in your throat. “It’s going to be weird to live in a city where I know no one.”
“All the more reasons to go introduce yourself to Park Jimin”, your mom said teasingly, winking at you.
“Mom, no!” Though this time you did let out a small laugh.
The smile on your mother’s lips turned into a fond one. “I love you, sweetie. Take care of you.”
“Will do, mom, I love you too.”
You hung up, and your eyes trailed back to the windows. The sun had disappeared under the horizon, the light turning blue as dusk settled over the city. With a sigh, you pushed yourself up.
After all, you still had boxes to move.
***
 Present day
                The screaming of children had you wincing in pain, a headache threatening to win over your senses. Especially as the screaming melted into crying, and a teary-eyed and red-faced child stopped in front of you, tugging on your hand so you’d look down.
Your first week as an elementary school teacher had proven to be a complete disaster. At least you had just taught a few classes the whole week – as the English teacher, you didn’t have a full schedule. But goddamn couldn’t you wait until the day was over and you’d be sipping wine back home.
It had taken you a few days to finish moving in, after that embarrassing first day. And it had taken you only a few more days to realize just how much of an asshole Park Jimin was. How much of an even worse neighbor he was.
Really, he had woken you up in the middle of the night more than once with loud music, and sometimes when you got out of your own place, you had to refrain from gagging at the smell of the trash he left just outside of his door.
You had even brought it down once because you were afraid liquid would seep through the plastic bag and stain the carpet of the hallway. Of course Jimin hadn’t thanked you for it. Indeed, he usually pretended that you didn’t exist, barely even looking your way when you moved passed each other in the hallway in front of your homes. And when he did look at you, it was always with that same condescending and arrogant look on his face, as if he thought himself to be so much better than you.
A month ago, you might have said that he was, but now that you knew who he really was, you knew that he was rotten to the core.
Well, you maybe were being too harsh on him. Ignoring you didn’t really make him an asshole, but you had a hard time dealing with the loud music at night, especially considering it happened at least four times a week.
One would have thought that the walls of the complex would have been sound-proofed better than they actually were, but no, when he had his music on it pretty much felt as if you were standing right in the middle of his apartment.
“Teacher Y/l/n”, the child said through her sobs, and you snapped back to the present, bending down to be at a level with the child.
“What is going on?” you asked, voice as gentle as you could manage to make it through the storm of children raging around you.
The little girl mumbled something that you didn’t quite understand. Your Korean wasn’t perfect yet, and you had found that children often chewed on their syllables in a way that left you grasping for comprehension. And though you were an English teacher, you knew that most of the kids didn’t speak enough of the language to be able to talk to you. So, you always did your best with your Korean, but you knew you’d need a few weeks to adjust.
“Why don’t we go sit over there?” you said in reply, pointing to where bean bags were arranged in a circle, with a few plush toys scattered around them. “Then you can explain to me.”
You should have known better than to put all of your attention on the same kid, because by the time you had sat the little girl and handed her a teddy bear, the sound of glass breaking had you spin your head around.
A guilty round-faced boy came into view, as he looked down at the glass surrounding him. You wanted to curse loudly, but you forced yourself to smile before moving towards him.
You helped the boy to move away from the glass, as the other students looked at you curiously, all of them a little startled from the accident. It led to the room falling silent for the first time in what seemed hours, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you cleaned the mess up.
Maybe you never should have let the children have a free period, but you had felt generous as it was the last period of the week. A mistake you weren’t going to repeat.
In the relative calmness that followed the storm, you were able to have the children sit in the bean bags, along with the little girl whose sadness seemed to be long forgotten as she played with her teddy bear. You read a story to them, in English of course, until the class finally ended and their main teacher came to gather the children. The older lady would bring them back to their own class, where they’d get their school bags before their parents came to pick them up.
You were cleaning the mess left in the classroom when your colleague Chaeyoung appeared in the doorway, a tired smile on her lips.
“How was the first week?” she asked, as you straightened from where you had been kneeling on the floor, picking up the plush toys so you could put them back in the box where you had first taken them.
“The first years were a challenge to end the week with, but other than that it was great”, you replied, though your voice was filled with exhaustion.
Chaeyoung chuckled, nodding her head knowingly. “As cute as they are, they really are a challenge.”
You couldn’t agree more.
“Anyway, I was here to tell you that some of the other teachers are going to get drinks, if you want to join”, Chaeyoung said.
Thinking about going out with people you had known for just a few days made you feel even more tired inside, but you found you didn’t really have it in you to say no. After all, you had been pretty much alone for a month now, except for the week your mother had come to visit you. You needed a little socialization, especially if you wanted to make friends here.
“Sure, I’ll come”, you agreed, and the smile that lit up Chaeyoung’s face was entirely worth it.
Chaeyoung probably was the colleague that was the closest in age to you, and she also was the one who had tried making you feel the most welcomed ever since you had started working there. The friendliness with which the girl carried herself really made her easily approachable, and you knew you’d be good friends in no time.
Chaeyoung also was the only one that hadn’t acted as if the fact that your mother was a famous actress was a big deal. It had made you appreciate the girl even more.
Later that evening, after drinks, which had mostly been eating more than drinking, you found yourself in a cab on the way back home. The school for which you worked was fairly close to where you lived, but your colleagues had insisted on going to a bar that was farther away, enough for you to dread the walk home. So, getting a cab it had been, and you looked at Seoul’s streets as the car made its way towards your apartment complex.
The radio was on, volume tuned down as the driver hadn’t turned it back up after having asked you where you lived. Yet, the volume was high enough for you to recognize the BTS song that was playing, and you almost felt like rolling your eyes to the back of your head.
Though you refrained from doing so, because it didn’t sit right with you to start hating the whole group just because Jimin was an arrogant piece of shit. Instead, you bobbed along to the music, mouthing the lyrics, as your condominium finally came into view.
You paid the cab as it stopped in front of the building, thanking the driver before getting out and walking the short distance to the gate, and then to the doors proper. You walked in, the bright hall and its high ceilings a stark contrast with the darkness outside, though you barely acknowledged it as you made your way to the elevator.
Mind a little fuzzed up by the alcohol, you called for the elevator, waiting in front of the doors patiently. You grabbed your phone in the tote bag on your shoulder, opening your text messages to reply to the text Chaeyoung had sent you, before switching apps to Instagram, scrolling through it mindlessly.
It took you a few seconds to realize that the elevator was still in the basement. What was taking so long?
The basement held a parking lot, and a wide gym you had visited a couple of times so far, though you had never really been an athletic person. You had been surprised at the amount of famous people you had seen there though, but luckily enough you hadn’t run into Jimin once.
You wondered if he would have looked even more disgusted by the sight of you sweating.
Putting your phone back where you had taken it, you made to move away, deciding that you’d take the stairs instead of the elevator since it really didn’t seem like it was coming. As you were about to take the first step away, you heard it start moving, and you turned back towards it, sighing in relief. You really hadn’t felt like climbing up the nine floors.
Nothing could have really prepared you to the sight that fell upon your eyes when the doors slid open. It was almost a parallel to that first time you had seen Jimin there, though this time Jimin had an arm thrown around the shoulders of Jeong Hoseok, and he was clearly drunk out of his mind.
You stepped in, bowing to Hoseok as your eyes slid to Jimin, and to the not-so subtle stain on the front of his shirt.
From the smell of it, you were pretty sure Jimin had thrown up on himself. And really, the sour stench made you scrunch up your nose in disgust, right as Hoseok apologized for it.
“Oh”, you let out. “It’s okay.”
At the sound of your voice, Jimin opened his eyes, glassy gaze moving to find yours. You expected his features to have that same disgusted scowl he always reserved for you, but his brows fell, as if he was ashamed, or perhaps sad.
It was so human you found you had to look away.
“I didn’t know you speak Korean”, Jimin mumbled, speech definitely slurred by the alcohol.
You froze, not expecting him to talk to you directly, until your gaze slid to him again.
He was still looking at you, but his face was unreadable. Until a lazy smile broke on his lips as he turned towards Hoseok, who had his arm wrapped around Jimin’s waist to keep him up.
 “She’s the new neighbor I told you about”, Jimin said, and Hoseok glanced at you.
Jimin had talked about you?
The elevator slowed down as it reached your floor, the deceleration making Jimin stumble forward. Hoseok held onto him, and Jimin once again looked at you.
“Where is your boyfriend?”
The doors slid open as you just looked back at him, feeling completely dumbfounded. What the hell was he talking about?
You remained silent, as Hoseok tried making Jimin walk out of the elevator, but the man stayed stubbornly in place. “Wait, hyung.”
You didn’t wait, walking around Jimin and Hoseok to get out, moving towards your door as your cheeks burned red. You felt way too embarrassed to stay there. 
What boyfriend was Jimin talking about?
Jimin followed you, though he would have probably fallen right to the floor had Hoseok not been there. Yet, the two men were slower, and your pace turned even faster as you headed for your home.
“See, that’s what I said, she doesn’t speak”, Jimin continued, and he let out a bitter chuckle. “Army fucking hates us now.”
“Jimin-ah, let’s just get you to bed”, Hoseok gently said, mouthing an apology to you as you turned back to look at them.              
Why the hell would Jimin think that Army hated BTS?
“I just fucking hate this”, Jimin spat, pushing Hoseok away.
Your eyes widened, and you quickly moved towards your door, mind still not processing what was going on. Not wanting to witness Jimin in that state either. And as you were pressing in the code to unlock the door, the unmistakable sound of someone retching had you glancing back towards Hoseok and Jimin.
Jimin was folded in half, hand on the wall to keep standing as he was throwing up, right on the carpet of the hallway. The sound made you shiver, but luckily enough you weren’t one to get sick when someone else was.
No, you had always been the mom friend in the friend groups you had had back home. Except when you happened to be the one to black out, as it usually came before throwing up for you.
“I am so sorry about this”, Hoseok apologized once again, right as he stood there, seemingly not knowing what to do anymore.
Indeed, his face had gone a shade paler, and you wondered if he was about to be sick too.
“What’s wrong with him?” you asked, unable to keep the venom from seeping into your words.
No, you rather had a lot of accumulated rage against Jimin, and seeing him like that just made you even angrier. And you didn’t know what your question really was about. It almost was rhetorical – you knew he was drunk – but maybe your mind had gone to the behaviour that had been his since you had met him.
“He drank too much.”
Obviously.
You nodded slowly, nose scrunching up in disgust as the stench reached you. Jimin retched a little more, and you looked away, feeling a little dizzy yourself. You only looked back towards them once Jimin had straightened up.
He was looking at you already when your eyes met his, and you watched as a tear rolled down his cheek, one that he dried angrily before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Fuck”, he let out and your lips stretched into a thin line at the unexpected curse.
“Let’s get you home”, Hoseok said, glancing between Jimin and you. He then added, fixating his eyes on you, “I’ll come back to clean.”
“I can take care of it. Just get him in bed and make sure he drinks some water.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me, you know”, Jimin mumbled, and you weren’t quite sure if the words were directed at you or at Hoseok.
It didn’t really matter though, because Hoseok thanked you, grabbing Jimin by the wrist and pulling him to his door. He pressed in the code, thanking you once again before pulling Jimin inside.
“You know”, Jimin said as he resisted following his friend. “I don’t even know her name.”
Hoseok had a stern voice as he replied, “Jimin-ah, just get in.”
You watched as the door shut behind the two young men, and then your eyes slid to the mess Jimin had caused. You shivered in disgust, not really wanting to be the one to clean that. But you had said you would, so you got into your apartment, moving to find the cleaning supplies you’d need to wash it all, and to make sure it didn’t stain the carpet.
What the hell was wrong with Park Jimin?
You walked back out, aiming for the puddle of vomit that was slowly seeping into the carpet. The smell was enough to make you gag, as you put on gloves and started picking up as much as you could to put it in the plastic bag.
It wasn’t so different than cleaning up after a kid had retched, and you did everything in you not to think about the fact that Park Jimin had been the source of that mess. That you had seen him at a low point, and that he, for one, hadn’t seemed to hate you.
No, he had just looked terribly sad.
Your thoughts traveled back to the words he had uttered, skimming over the fact that he had mentioned you having a boyfriend. Stopping on that fact, in all truth. Had a boy come over to her place while you were gone for him to think that? You doubted it – no stranger could have gone past the security downstairs.
What had he meant, then?
You sighed as you finished picking up most of what hadn’t yet seeped in the carpet, before moving to actually cleaning the whole thing, eyes watering a little from the small gags you weren’t able to keep in.
 Also, Jimin had mentioned Army hating them. You assumed he had meant BTS, but why the hell would he think that Army hated BTS now? Maybe it was because you had indulged into alcohol a little too, but it took a moment for your brain to formulate an answer.
The hiatus, or whatever that break could really be called. The video had come out a few weeks ago, a couple of days after you had moved in… Did Jimin really think that Army hated them for that?
You scoffed, because really he was annoying and you couldn’t help yourself. Even as you were starting to understand him, to understand the human being behind the idol, though you didn’t really know him all that much yet. One thing was for sure: understanding him didn’t justify his actions, especially considering you had never done anything to piss him off.
Unless the fact that you were Army was enough to piss him off indeed. Which came as a surprise to you, because Jimin had the reputation to be easy of approach. Clearly, people had been wrong about him, or it really was just you he hated.
It made you stop cleaning the mess, as the thought slowly formed in your head, rendering you far too sad to be cleaning.
The door to Jimin’s apartment opened, and you turned your head towards it, half-expecting Jimin to step out and be the arrogant prick you had gotten to know in the last few weeks. Instead, Hoseok stepped out, and he pressed his lips into a thin line as your eyes met.
“You really didn’t have to clean, I could have taken care of it”, he said, eyes looking over his shoulder as he shut the door behind him gently.
You sat back on your heels, glancing at the wet spot on the carpet. “It’s okay, it’s not all different from cleaning after the kids I teach to.”
Hoseok had a friendly smile playing on his lips when you looked back at him.
Looking the perfect picture of the person he projected in videos and pictures. Being exactly what you had first expected Jimin to be like.
“Well, it’s very nice of you”, he added. His gaze trailed to the plastic bag next to you. “I’ll bring that in the trash downstairs.”
The corner of your lips spread into a hesitant smile. “Thank you.”
He shrugged his shoulders, before once again glancing at Jimin’s door. “I’m sorry about him, by the way.”
You wet your lips, your eyes once again going to the mess. Or rather to what was left of it. “What’s wrong with him?” you reiterated your previous question, finding you didn’t have the courage to look at Hoseok for his reply.
Though he remained silent for a moment, and you wondered if he was debating telling you the truth. And maybe he only chose to be honest because you were currently cleaning his friend’s mess, something you really didn’t have to do after all.
“He’s been having a couple of rough weeks”, Hoseok admitted, then added quickly as if afraid you’d think Jimin was indulging a little too much, “The alcohol doesn’t really have something to do with it though.”
You found you couldn’t stop the bitter chuckle that fell from your lips. It was a small awkward sound, and you wondered if Hoseok could see you blushing.
For god’s sake, were you actually talking to Hobi?
Hoseok seemed taken aback by your chuckle, maybe not expecting it from someone Jimin had said to be Army. He buried his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet a little, as if he too was feeling a little awkward.
“I’m sorry he’s not been doing great”, you eventually chose to say, as the silence had started stretching to the point of discomfort. “I…” you trailed off, not really knowing what to add.
“Oh, he’ll get over it soon”, Hoseok said, the certainty in his voice so clear it made you want to believe it.
Yet a part of you wasn’t able to believe it at all.
“I hope so”, you muttered, more to yourself than to him.
Because perhaps normal Park Jimin wouldn’t be such a shit neighbor.
There was another silence, during which you busied yourself by finishing cleaning up, before throwing away everything in the plastic bag and tying it up. You pushed up to your feet, fully conscious that Hoseok was watching you carefully, as if expecting you to say more. And though he was a lot easier to talk to than your neighbor, you had nothing else to say about Jimin.
You exchanged an awkward look, and you scraped your throat, gaze dropping to the floor. “I… really like your new song”, you finally said. “The grunge vibe is really great.”
Hoseok was beaming once you met his gaze again. “See, I told him you didn’t hate us.”
You blushed a little. “Oh?”
“Well.” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “He mentioned you are a fan, and all.”
“He thinks I hate you?” There was genuine surprise in your voice.
“He is convinced Army in general does, yeah.”
There was another silence, one that felt quite a lot heavier.
“He is not taking that whole break thing well, is he?”
Hoseok’s face fell serious, his eyes unreadable. “He’s the one that’s taking it the hardest, let’s say.”
So, you had been right about it. And that small part of you that didn’t already dislike Jimin seemed to swell a little, pushing the negative emotions back.
“I’m sorry”, you said, unsure what you were apologizing for, and the negative emotions swerved back in.
You were sorry for what, exactly? For being Army, and the very cause of Jimin’s guilt? Or for not really feeling sorry for him at all? Because even if you knew that he was not doing great, most of you was still angered at the thought of him. At the perspective that he’d wake you up in the middle of the night again in the next few days, and that he’d look down on you like you were just a mere speck of dust.
Feeling guilty for taking a break didn’t really give him the right to be an asshole. And maybe you were a bad person for being unable to really feel bad for him, but at least you were honest to yourself about it.
Hoseok didn’t really speak to you much after that, as if sensing your discomfort. He instead wished you good night, grabbing the plastic bag from where you had left it. You didn’t move back to your apartment right away, eyes lost in a vague spot on the wall, and Hoseok’s voice had you looking towards where he was standing, waiting for the elevator to come.
“Don’t be too harsh on him”, he said. “And don’t take it personally, if he’s acting weird around you.”
Your pursed your lips. “Easier said than done.”
“I know…” Hoseok looked down at his feet, laughing lightly. “I know”, he repeated. “He’ll come around.”
“What makes you so sure of it?” you asked.
He had a knowing smile on his lips when he gazed back at you, right as the elevator dinged behind him. “Because he asked for your name until he passed out in his bed.”
 ***
               The summer air was heavy with humidity as you walked back to your apartment, grocery bags in hand. The dark clouds up ahead promised of rainfall and storm, though for now the cement of the road was completely dry, and it almost still seemed as if it was fuming with heat, creating a mirage in the distance like one would see in the desert. Cars drove slowly in the street, as if their tires were melting, sticking to the ground and keeping them from moving at their normal pace, and really, the heat felt as if it was pressing down on everyone and everything. The worst part was that it only seemed to be getting worse by the second.
You couldn’t wait for the rain to fall, releasing the atmosphere of the heaviness that clung to it. You just hoped you’d be back home by then.
You hurried, because you didn’t really want to risk being stuck in the rain, but it seemed the universe had other plans for you. The clouds opened up as you could see your condominium in the distance, showering you so thoroughly that by the time you reached the door, you were drenched from your toes to the top of your head.
Maybe you should have gone to the grocery store in the complex. But you had been avoiding it since the end of last week, afraid you’d run into Jimin.
You hadn’t seen him since Friday night. He hadn’t given any signs of life either, his apartment remaining dead silent, to your dismay. Or maybe he had just been so hungover it was taking him a few days to recover. From the state that he had been in, you wouldn’t have been surprised.
Dripping water on the marble floor of the hall, you walked towards the elevator, bowing to the security. The man bowed to you too, but he remained silent. You knew he greeted most of everyone else, but you didn’t really mind.
You were a foreigner after all.
Hoseok’s words had turned in your head, ever since he had said them, right before he had left. You didn’t really know what to make of it. Jimin had been asking for your name… Part of you didn’t want it to mean anything, because really you didn’t want to think that the Park Jimin had an interest in you, even if it was just about knowing your name. Though the other part, the smaller anxious part of you that felt sorry for him… it wanted to know if his curiosity was about more than just knowing your name. You knew it was the remnants of the fan in you speaking, but sometimes, when you didn’t really pay attention, that part of you became louder, threatening to blossom into a flower that’d throw a shadow on the resentment you wanted to keep towards him.
You didn’t even know why you wanted to hold on to that resentment. Perhaps it was just your way of protecting yourself from him, because God knew that Park Jimin was dangerous. Beautiful, yes, but the same kind of beautiful a poisonous plant was made of, luxurious with life but able to end you all the same.
The doors to the elevator slid open, and you were relieved to see that it was fully empty. You walked in, pressing on your floor before standing to the side, eyes falling to the coffee stain on the carpet. Your thoughts provided you with an image you didn’t want to picture – Jimin, bending over to throw up in that spot.
Had he been the source of the stain on the carpet, as he had been close to stain the carpet next to your apartments? You shuddered at the thought and focused on the numbers changing over the elevator door as you went up to the very last level, trying to shake the image out of your mind.
The elevator decelerated, and the doors slid open slowly. You were about to walk out when you noticed the figure standing there.
Of course Jimin had to be there when you were drenched in rain water.
You exchanged a long look, or it just felt like an eternity because you were gazing into the eyes of Park Jimin. His face held no expression whatsoever, as if he was too tired to even muster up the usual scowl he reserved for you. And really, he did look tired, dark circles under his eyes indicating that he probably hadn’t slept much in the last two days.
Or maybe the hangover was just taking its toll on him.
The moment stretched, and you found you had to look away. Your gaze dropped to the floor, and you were about to say something – what you didn’t know – when the doors started closing, and Jimin held up an arm to keep them from doing so.
“You might want to get out before I go in”, he said, and his voice was lazily arrogant, as if he wanted for it to be cocky but exhaustion kept it from reaching its attended goal.
You rolled your eyes, nodding before taking a step forward. He was standing in the middle of the way, and your whole body started burning as you realized you had stepped closer to him. You only then looked up, meeting his empty gaze. He looked as if he was clenching his jaw, and that, more than anything, made you see red.
“You might want to get out of my way”, you said, your voice colder than his had been. Not arrogant, but maybe a little condescending.
Scratch that, it had been fully condescending.
It seemed to catch him off guard, because his eyes slightly widened and he blinked once, slowly.
“So, you finally talk”, he said, and there was the ghost of a smirk on his lips.
Not the kind of smirk that might make you feel warm and fluffy inside. It rather only fueled your anger.
“I talked on Friday too, but maybe you were too fucked out to realize?” Your words were coated in honey, the poisonous kind, and you wondered where you had found the courage to speak to him like that.
Especially as his arm was still outstretched, and it almost felt as if you were frozen in place, a statue of that moment before a hug.
“Oh no, I do remember.” He smirked full on, then, and it made his eyes seem cold in some way.
Cold and sad.
“Weren’t you the one to clean up after me?” he asked, tilting his head by a few degrees to the side.
“I didn’t want the hallway to smell like you did”, you said, shrugging your shoulders. “It had nothing to do with you.”
A chuckle fell from his lips. “It rather felt as if you were eager to have a role to play in my life.”
Your mouth fell open, but you had nothing to say to that.
“Is that why you moved next door too?” he asked, and he sounded so full of himself you wanted to slap him.
Unfortunately, your courage was running out, and red flushed your cheeks.
“I didn’t know you lived next door until the day I moved in”, you admitted, and your voice didn’t sound half as confident as it did a moment earlier.
That seemed to take him aback. “Your boyfriend didn’t tell you?”
There he was again with the boyfriend thing.
“What boyfriend are you talking about?” you enquired, glancing to your right as he let his arm fall.
He cocked an eyebrow, letting out a bitter chuckle. “The one I met when you visited the apartment a few months ago?”
Of all the things you had expected him to say, admitting that he had met Collin wasn’t one of those. Why had your ex never told you?
“You met Collin?”
It was a rhetorical and useless question, but your lips had formulated it before you had been able to stop it. And Jimin didn’t answer it, as if he too knew that it was rhetorical.
“He decided to stay back home”, you admitted, hating that you were giving Jimin this tiny piece of information about you. Because it made your heart ache a little at the thought that you could have been building a life for yourself back home, if you hadn’t chosen to move to the other side of the globe.
“Is that code word for saying he dumped you?”
Jimin’s voice had taken on an even icier tone, so far away from the friendliness his idol self projected whenever he was on camera. It hurt some deep part of you, that stupid tiny part that still wanted to believe he wasn’t a total prick.
“It was a mutual decision”, you muttered, looking down at the floor.
He stayed silent, right as you started blinking away tears. You would be damned if one of them slipped on your cheek when Jimin was standing right there in front of you.
“Isn’t that what we all say when we get dumped?” he asked, and surprisingly his tone held nothing of the bite it did before. He just sounded tired, in a genuine kind of way that made him seem terribly human.
It made you look up to meet his gaze, yet you remained silent. You had no words to say to that, no clever turn of phrase, because you didn’t want to lie to his face, had always hated lying, and you didn’t want to tell him he was right either. You didn’t think you’d be able to stand the vulnerability the truth held.
He already had enough power over you.
“Anyway”, he said once the silence had stretched for a few more seconds. His lips pressed in a thin line, and your eyes dropped to his mouth. “I’m sorry about Friday.”
The last thing you had expected him to do was apologize, and you just looked at him for a moment, completely baffled. And right when awkwardness filled the air, you shrugged your shoulders.
“It’s whatever, I would have done it for anyone.”
A weak attempt at trying to regain the advantage in the conversation, though it seemed to fail miserably.
He stepped aside, to finally let you pass, and you started moving, almost gulping as you felt the heaviness of his gaze on your profile. Once you had walked a few feet down the hallway, you glanced over your shoulder, that foolish part of you that wanted to believe he wasn’t all bad winning over your rationality.
He was still looking at you, and your breath caught in your throat.
“You never told me your name”, Jimin said, voice so low you would have thought he hadn’t spoken hadn’t you seen his lips move.
“Why do you want to know?” you asked.
He looked down, eyes seeming to get lost into a void, a void you could tell was haunting his mind.
“Never mind”, he said.
You felt bad, for a moment, as you watched him get into the elevator.
The foolish part of you won.
“Y/n”, you said, right as the doors started closing.
He met your gaze, eyes a little round, as if startled you had given in to him. Though he didn’t have time to speak before the doors fully shut, completely hiding him from your view.
 ***
              The week passed in a blur, and you didn’t get to see Jimin again, except once in the distance at the grocery store of the condominium. He had locked gaze with you, bowed his head a little and then he had disappeared from view, and you hadn’t really searched for him.
The fact he had acknowledged you existed didn’t have to mean anything at all.
Friday night came, and you found yourself accepting Chaeyoung’s invite to go clubbing, the young woman’s enthusiasm making you feel a little more extroverted than you usually were.
As a matter of fact, you had avoided clubs like the plague back home, but maybe that was just because your mom was famous, and people tended to recognize you too. Here, you had found that even though lots of people were aware of your mom’s existence, few were those that connected the dots between you two. So, you were willing to risk it and go out, because at 24 you had still never stepped foot in a club.
Chaeyoung came over at your place to get ready, and you were unsure why you had suggested it. Realized it probably had been a mistake once you remembered that Chaeyoung had no idea how rich you were.
Indeed, the girl’s eyes had been wide ever since you had gotten home, and she avoided touching something as if scared she’d break it.
“You can sit, you know”, you said, as you were yourself sat in front of one of the vanities in your dressing room.
Chaeyoung let out a nervous chuckle. “Why didn’t you mention you live in Nine One before?” she blurted, and you knew the question had been on the girl’s lips for a while now.
You shrugged. “It didn’t seem like it mattered all that much”, you replied. You met Chaeyoung’s eyes in the mirror. “Sorry.”
Chaeyoung laughed lightly, a pretty sound that resembled a melody of some sort. “No need to apologize, I’m just jealous.” She winked at you in the mirror, and you giggled along with her.
It was crazy that you had become friends after only two weeks of knowing each other. Before you could reply, your phone started ringing, and your gaze fell to it.
You felt as if your blood had turned to ice in your veins as you saw Collin’s name on the lit-up screen. It still had the heart emoji you had put next to it, back when you were together. Strangely enough, you hadn’t found the strength to put it away yet.
“Who’s that?” Chaeyoung enquired with a gentle voice, as if sensing your uneasiness.
There was no point in beating around the bush, so you replied, “My ex.”
Chaeyoung pursed her lips, nostrils flaring as if she was disgusted. “Ew.”
It made you laugh just a little, but you weren’t quite sure the joy of it had reached your eyes.
Why the hell would Collin be calling you? Wasn’t it the middle of the night back where you had come from?
“I… will take this”, you said, hesitant.
Chaeyoung nodded, looking away from you and the ringing device. “As long as you spill the tea after.”
You stifled a laugh, a real one this time, before grabbing your phone. You accepted the call, bringing the device to your ear as you got up to walk away, needing a little privacy for the conversation, whatever it might hold.
Collin’s tired voice on the other side of the line had your heart aching dully in your chest.
“Hey”, he said.
A simple word, but it was an echo of the word that had started your whole relationship. A small hey from the cute boy at the coffee shop, when you had just been seventeen and too young to see the danger in his eyes.
Or maybe you had been the dangerous one, with your dreams of leaving the country and never looking back.
“What’s up?” you asked, feeling slightly strange at having to speak English. You hadn’t spoken English since you had talked to your parents the weekend before.
You were adjusting to the Korean life far more than you had first thought you were.
“I…” Collin trailed off, and there was a silence that had you wonder what he might be thinking about.
That had you wonder what his next words might hold, and that had you beating yourself up for the hope that seeped into your mind.
“I have something to confess”, he finally finished, and this time he didn’t wait before continuing. “I’m dating someone new, and she… she’s giving birth right now.”
You were standing in the middle of the hallway leading to your bedroom, left foot in the middle of the air, but you froze in the middle of your step.
For one, you hadn’t known Collin was dating someone new, and for second… she was giving birth?
It was such a strange situation that your heart forgot to ache, as you put your foot down next to the other.
“What?” you said, letting out a nervous chuckle.
“We were together for a long time, so I wanted you to hear it from me.”
His words were filled with an information you couldn’t quite grasp. As if he was telling you something you already knew, but couldn’t grasp the meaning of. It was like listening to someone speaking another language. Knowing that the sounds they were sewing together had a meaning, but the meaning was just a little out of reach.
“You wanted to tell me your new girlfriend is giving birth?” you asked, and your voice was filled with laughter. The maniacal kind, the one that you usually let out when you were deeply hurt.
Yet there was no pain in you, only astonishment.
“Everything indicates that I’m the father, Y/n”, Collin admitted, with the gentlest voice, as if he was comforting a small hurt child.
It was like the world had stopped turning, only to start going backwards. Like crashing into a brick wall going eighty miles per hour, and looking at the aftermath, at the mess left behind that wasn’t quite human anymore.
It was horrifying, really. Because it meant so much, so much so that your brain didn’t want to understand. Maybe to try to preserve you from destruction, because it promised to be too grand, like the final scene of a horror movie, filled with gore and fear and despair.
“We broke up two months ago”, was what your brain could come up with.
Refusing to do the maths just yet, just trying to ease your body into the truth slowly, gently.
“I know”, Collin let out, and he sounded sad. Sad and guilty and everything in between. “It happened last October.”
Your memory was empty of all the souvenirs it had once held, as you tried to reach for what had happened in October.
“You remember when you told me that you were actually going to move to Korea?” Collin asked, and there was a strain to his voice, one you recognized all too well.
He had spoken the same way when his father had died, and you had held his sobbing form until the early hours of the morning, until he had fallen asleep from the exhaustion of his grief.
“It killed me, and I saw Harper and… it just happened”, he continued.
You let out a bitter chuckle, now, as the first emotion to rise from the hole in your chest surprisingly was anger. The kind of anger only a wounded soul could come up with.
“Just happened?” you repeated. “What, you walked in and your dick fell into her pussy?”
Harper had always been a source of conflict, in your whole relationship. She had been his childhood best friend, but she had been soon-to-be married for almost two years now, the wedding date having been pushed back twice because of the pandemic.
Clearly, your relationship hadn’t been the only one to die on the shore of your dreams to move to Korea, if Harper was now dating Collin.
Collin stayed silent and really, maybe you didn’t have anything to tell each other anymore. But the anger inside of you wasn’t quite done yet.
“That’s why you chose to stay, didn’t you?” you asked. “Because you put a baby in her belly, and she offered you what you’ve always wanted.”
Collin sniffled on the other side of the line. “I wanted that with you, you know. Until you decided to leave. What was I supposed to do, come with you?”
You full-on laughed this time, but there was no happiness behind the sound at all. Just a whole abyss you were afraid you’d fall into if you gazed at it for too long. “Yes, like we had planned. We even got an apartment together, remember?”
Collin echoed your own laugh with a chuckle, something between choking and scoffing. “That apartment was never mine, you signed the papers and didn’t even ask me to sign too.”
He was right. And for all you had known back then, not wanting to have him on the papers had been a good decision. You had been right, as if your past self had known about the chaos that was to come.
“Listen, thank you for telling me, Collin, but I have a friend that’s waiting for me and I really don’t have anything to say to you”, you said, voice coated in ice.
You hoped you could shape the ice into a dagger, and stab it into his heart.
“Y/n, I just wanted you to learn from me, I assumed…”
You hung up. Hung up on him and on the whole relationship you had shared, as if it had never mattered. And maybe that was it. Maybe he never should have mattered at all, because you were bound to part ways anyway.
He was bound to be a lesson in your life, as you had been bound to emigrate to Korea. Call it faith or whatever.
***
             Learning that your ex-boyfriend of six years and a half cheated on you proved to be quite a motivation to get plastered, even if Chaeyoung seemed concerned at first. A few shots of tequila in, the girl loosened up, and she stopped seeing the darkness in your eyes. Or so you hoped, because you didn’t want to have to face it just yet.
You wanted to surf the crescent of the wave until the last moment possible, when it pummeled into you and swallowed you whole. You weren’t quite sure you’d ever really get out of it if you allowed yourself to feel the emotions that you could glimpse at, down that black hole where your heart used to be.
So, it was in that state of mind that you partied, drinking until your mind went numb, and then some more until your body went numb too and all you could feel was the sway of the booming music in the club.
There were no thoughts in your head, just the music and the alcohol, and for now, it was all you needed. You knew you’d come to face the emotions one day, but not today.
Today you’d party and celebrate until the night ended. And you did just that, even when Chaeyoung started showing signs of exhaustion, and started mentioning going home. Even when Chaeyoung called a taxi, and you tried to down a few more shots before the car would come.
You only stopped when your friend forced you into the taxi, gave the address to the driver and told you to call her if you needed her. As much as you would have wanted for her to stay with you, Chaeyoung had her mother to take care of back home, from what she had already told you. So, you drunkenly waved at your friend from the taxi’s window, and when she disappeared out of sight, you let the darkness engulfed you.
The taxi driver did the polite thing and let you cry in peace, though the tears mostly rolled down your cheeks silently. The pain in your chest was far too grand for the kind that’d shake your body with sobs. As if all your muscles were too exhausted, and only the tears seemed to be able to well up in your eyes.
It was surprising, how little you cried. And you stopped crying, even before you got to the condominium. No, your eyes were dry as the desert as you reached home, and you didn’t even know how you managed to pay the driver before getting out and stumbling to the doors.
You didn’t know either how you managed to get to the elevator that led to your floor, the one where you had met Park Jimin. And you cursed loudly, in English, once you saw that the elevator was out.
This night couldn’t get any worse.
You dragged your feet towards the staircase, head turning so much you were afraid you’d be sick. It made you think of Jimin, who had been just like you a week ago. That made you giggle, in that silly kind of way only alcohol could muster out of someone, and you stumbled a little as you reached the door to the staircase. You pushed it open, quite a lot more forcefully than you needed to, and this time you flew, feet not touching the ground until you fell, hands coming in front of your face at the last moment.
You laughed again then, because you were way too inebriated to feel anything. You scrambled up to your feet, swaying a little more than you had before, head spinning faster and faster for each second that passed.
You started the trek up to your floor, not really feeling how your heart beat loudly from the exhaustion. No, the alcohol was numbing that too and really, you’d give anything to stay in that state of bliss that accompanied the intoxication.
You surprisingly reached the ninth floor without another incident, and you pushed open the door that led to your hallway, before stumbling towards the door of your home, hands searching your purse for your keys.
There was no chance in hell your drunk mind would remember the passcode you had to dial to get in.
With a successful little “there you go!”, you fished out your keys, right as you reached your door. You fumbled with the keys for a moment, as you tried to get them into the keyhole. It took you quite a few attempts, and it led to you giggling a little again.
It seemed the ride home had made you a lot drunker than you had been back at the club.
You finally managed to steady your hand enough to get the key in, resting your head against the door. The key seemed to get stuck, and you let out a curse under your breath, as you tried turning it in the lock.
The lock didn’t budge. However, the door did, and you stumbled forward. Your fall was cut short by hands on your shoulders, that held you up just for a moment until you found footing again.
It took you a moment to look up, mind miles away from the man standing in front of you.
“What are you doing?” Jimin asked.
You furrowed your brows. “What are you doing in my apartment?”
Jimin cocked an eyebrow. “Your apartment was on the other side of the hallway, last I checked.” He glanced over your head. “Still is.”
You shut your eyes, as everything seemed to be moving. Even Jimin’s eyes didn’t seem to be stable in his face.
“The elevator was out”, you said as an explanation. You cracked an eye open, only to see the scowl on Jimin’s face.
The one you had started to hate more and more every day, until you loathed it. So much so that just the sight of it had anger flaring up in your chest. You had no inhibition left to refrain from telling him to go fuck himself after all.
“Do you know”, you started, a hiccup interrupting your words. “Do you know how disappointing it is to meet your favourite idol and have them be a dick to you?”
Jimin remained silent, but the expression died on his face, right as he glanced down at your keys, that had somehow stayed in your hands during the whole ordeal.
You had gotten rid of the Chimmy keychain the day before you had started working at the elementary school, and it clearly didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“I had always dreamed of meeting you someday. Of meeting BTS”, you continued, shutting your eyes again, willing the world to stop turning so fast around your head. “Hobi was fine but you, Park Jimin, are a fucking asshole.”
He still didn’t say anything, right as you started feeling your insides churning.
Of course you were going to be sick right after having told him your truth.
And maybe you blacked out for a moment because next thing you remembered was being huddled over a toilet, retching everything you had drunk that night – well, what you hadn’t absorbed yet. It set your throat on fire, and cold beads of sweat rolled down your temples, along with tears, those tears that always came with throwing up.
And then there was another blank space between this moment and the next, and your mind focused back in as someone was gently wiping your face with a cool cloth. You startled back, arms rising up in front of you, in a poor attempt of defense.
“What’s going on?” you asked, and tears stung at your eyes again.
“I’m just taking your make-up off”, Jimin said, hands raised to show he was not a threat. “You can finish doing it if you want.”
You started crying then, for real. It was the last thing you remembered that night, and everything went black.
***
                 You had never thought your head could possibly hurt that much. Yet it pounded with a terrible headache as you slowly woke up, body feeling all too warm for your own good. And then the dehydration hit, and you cracked an eye open, trying to find something you could drink.
There was a glass of water next to your head, on a night table, and you grabbed it, downing it as if you had been parched for years. You then rested your head back on the pillow, sighing at the soft silk of it, and you dozed off.
You couldn’t tell how much longer you had slept. Once you woke up again, the headache had lessened a bit, but it was still throbbing at your temples. You knew you’d need a full day to recover from the amount of alcohol you had ingested last night. Maybe even the whole weekend.
That thought led you to another, far more painful one. Collin and his girlfriend. And his baby, and the fact that he had cheated on you, and hid it from you for months.
You sighed, heavily and maybe a little shakily too, as your heart hurt in your chest. Somehow, the tears didn’t come though, and you managed to open your eyes.
It took a moment for your gaze to adjust to the scene surrounding you. A little eternity, even. Or maybe it just wasn’t adjusting because of the unfamiliar scene.
You blinked a few times, willing your bedroom to appear to your vision, but the dark sheets stayed the same, along with the mounted TV on the wall in front of you. You only then pushed yourself up, sitting in the bed as you scanned your surroundings.
You definitely weren’t in your bedroom. Neither were you in your apartment. There were discarded items of clothing on the floor – a black pair of jeans at the foot of the mattress, two t-shirts by the window, under the dark curtains, and enough lonely socks to form a whole army of them. It was the picture on top of the dresser whose middle drawer was pulled open that caught your gaze the most though.
All the BTS members smiled at you from their spot on the dresser, looking like a little family. It was a polaroid picture, and really it was far enough for you to wonder how you’d managed to be able to tell that those were the BTS members. Then again, you had been a fan of them for years now, and could recognize them from their shadows, so maybe being able to recognize their familiar traits in the distance wasn’t too far fetched.
Your mind went blank, as you tried to remember the events of last night. All you could remember was waving goodbye to Chaeyoung, before the taxi had driven you home.
Well, clearly it hadn’t quite driven you home, because this was not your room at all.
You looked down at yourself, and at the black sheet that was pooling around your waist. You were wearing an oversized purple sweater, one you had only seen behind the screen of your phone before.
How the fuck had you managed to get to Jimin’s bedroom? And more importantly, why were you dressed in his clothes?
You pulled the sheets off from you, sighing in relief as you noticed you were wearing joggers. Then the sudden realization that he had probably been the one to change you into those clothes had your heart stopping in your chest, and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Knowing how you were when you usually blacked out with alcohol, there wasn’t a high chance you had been the one to change your clothes.
You looked around, only then noticing the folded clothes next to the BTS picture on the dresser. You recognized the colors from the outfit you had been wearing the night before, and you got up from the bed, stepping around the mattress to get to your clothes.
You couldn’t help but take a good look at the picture, heart filling with endearment at how adorable it was. At how happy they all looked, frozen into eternity in that little square of memory. From the looks of it, the picture had been taken on a camping trip, and it made you smile a little to think that they had gone on camping trips together, without ever sharing those to the public.
You wondered how much they had done without sharing it to the public too. It was like realizing that all of them were complete human beings, and that they weren’t confined to the screen of your phone. It had been a thing to know it before, but you were now fully realizing it. They all had their own lives, with ups and downs like every other person on the surface of the planet.
It made their hiatus – it wasn’t really a break though, wasn’t it? – all the more understandable.
With one last look at the picture, you grabbed your clothes. The door of the bedroom was shut, and you contemplated getting changed right there because there was no way you’d bring Jimin’s clothes into your own home. You weren’t quite sure you wanted your life to be mixed with his in such a personal way.
Excluding the fact that you had slept in his bed, that is.
You changed out of his clothes and into your own, wincing a little at the smell of spilled alcohol on your top. It made your stomach churn, but it was completely empty, and it saved you the embarrassment of throwing up in the middle of his bedroom.
Though you had a sudden flashback of throwing up the night before. You doubted you had been at home, if you had ended up in his room after all.
Your purse laid on the dresser too, and you grabbed it, looking through its contents to make sure everything was in there. Your cards and keys were there, and so was your phone, though it was dead and had probably been for a while now.
Once you had made sure you had collected all your belongings, you walked towards the door, taking a deep sigh before reaching for the knob. You turned it gently, trying not to make any noise. Before getting out, you threw one last look at the purple sweater you had been wearing, longing for the feeling of its soft fabric on your skin. You pushed the thought away, and then tiptoed soundlessly out of the room, or as silently as your hungover self could manage.
It proved to be useless, because Jimin’s apartment was shaped like yours, and the hallway outside of his bedroom led you to the living room, where he was currently sprawled on the couch, playing some videogame.
He paused it as soon as you came into view, eyes sweeping over your figure once before meeting yours.
“How did you sleep?” he asked, and he sounded genuine.
You had no idea what you looked like, but from how you felt you knew you probably looked like hell.
“Good”, you replied, feeling awkward standing there. “Did you…” you trailed off, glancing at the couch, and at the blanket and pillow that were resting on one side of it. “You slept on the couch?”
He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yes.”
There was a long silence as you scanned his apartment, surprised to see just how alike it was to yours. Though Jimin’s furniture was mostly darker than yours, except for the couch, which was in a lighter shade of gray. It felt like you had stepped into an alternate universe to the one you usually lived in.
“What happened last night?” you then asked, because visibly he was the only one who could answer that question, as your memories were still failing you.
He pursed his lips in an apologetic expression that had a hint of a smile in there. “You were pretty wasted.”
You nodded, pulling at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “Yeah, I mean… apart from that?”
He smiled a little then, and you watched it as if it was alien on his features. “You tried unlocking my door and when I opened you called me an asshole. And then you got sick”, he said that motioning in the general direction of the front door, “so I pulled you to the bathroom.”
As he spoke, you had tiny little flashes from last night – just images your eyes remembered they had seen, but it was a silent track, and you winced as he recalled the events of last night.
And really there had been more than you had thought. Apparently, you had thrown up for a while, then asked for food, then thrown up some more. Once you had started passing out on the couch, he had taken your make-up off, which had woken you up. You had then started crying, and told him everything about Collin, and you had fallen asleep on the couch, before he had carried you to his room. He admitted he had been the one to change you – promising he hadn’t looked though, right as his cheeks turned pink – and it made you want to disappear through the floor.
Park Jimin had seen you almost entirely naked. Most of all, Park Jimin had taken care of you when you had been so drunk you barely could pass as a human being. You didn’t know what to make of that.
“I am so sorry for all that”, you apologized when he was done, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.
He laughed again then, and his lips broke into a grin. That smile sent your mind into a frenzy your hangover self couldn’t deal with.
“It’s okay”, he reassured you. “You clearly needed someone, I’m glad I could be there for you.”
His smile died down as he said the last words, and your gaze dropped to the ground, eyes following the lines in the hardwood floor.
“I’m sorry for calling you an asshole”, you added.
You saw him shrug from the corner of your eyes. “I honestly think it was well-deserved.”
That made you chuckle a little, and you looked up, though you didn’t find any reply to that. You exchanged an awkward look, until Jimin motioned towards the kitchen.
“I got hangover soup for you, if you want to eat that before heading home.”
There was an invitation behind those words. Maybe even a truce, to the hostility that you had shared ever since you’d met. And really, the Jimin in front of you right now was nothing like the one you had come to know in the last month. He rather was the idol you had admired all those years, and you didn’t know what had caused the switch. Though you weren’t stupid, and you were pretty sure your vulnerability had made him feel guilty, and maybe that was his way of apologizing. He had even admitted to being in the wrong, hadn’t he?
Perhaps that was the reason why you found yourself saying yes.
 ***
            Eating proved to help ease the throbbing in your head, as did the ibuprofen Jimin had gotten for you. He had also made you drink plenty of water, as you had conversed about the weather and your work, both avoiding the subject of last night.
You were still very much so embarrassed, and you’d rather pretend it had never happened.
Jimin made it easier, as he was being quite friendlier than you had ever seen him – in person, that is – and it healed some part of the fan in you that had been hurt repeatedly by his actions, whether you had wanted to admit it to yourself or not.
Talking to him also helped ease the pain you had felt the night before, the thought of Collin somehow infrequent when Jimin was looking at you, listening to what you had to say.
There was a shadow, in Jimin’s eyes. That no amount of smiling and laughing could chase away. Every time you’d see the cloud pass in his gaze, you’d be reminded of just how human he was. How real he was. As if you’d always seen him as some sort of god, and were just now realizing that he was just like you.
A little more famous, yes, but just like anyone else.
It was a thought that hit you in the chest, whenever you thought about it. And you had thought about it quite a couple of times since you had met Jimin that first time, but mostly in the last week or two. Ever since you had seen him so drunk he had looked like he was going to die.
Maybe he had been feeling that way too. And now, he had seen you at your lowest too, and your heart warmed a little in your chest each time you remembered that he had taken care of you. He could have easily brought you back home – it wasn’t like the walk was a long one – but he had instead taken care of you. Listened to what drunk you had had to say, and comforted you, apparently. Not that you really could recall the events of last night, but you sometimes did have flashes of his eyes holding yours, with a soft expression that made you wonder about who that Jimin was.
Because he wasn’t the same as the one you’d gotten to know ever since moving to Korea, and neither was he the one that was sitting in front of you right now, talking about things that didn’t really matter, trivial conversation aimed to fill a silence that threatened to fall into awkwardness the moment you stopped talking.
After all, it wasn’t like you were friends. Neighbors, yes, who had both seen the other at their lowest, but just neighbors, nonetheless. He made it easy, though. He made talking easy, in a way you couldn’t quite understand yet. And you weren’t quite sure you’d grasp the meaning of it someday, but you were glad for it.
God knew how awkward you could get when you were in an uncomfortable situation.
“Thank you, for last night”, you said as he walked you to his door once you were done eating.
“No problem”, he replied, flashing a grin at you.
It didn’t quite exactly reach his eyes, but you liked to tell yourself it did.
“I’ll try not doing something like that again”, you added, cheeks flushing red as your eyes dropped to the floor.
He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “Really, I didn’t mind. It was great to hang out with you, even if you were drunk.”
The blush on your cheeks deepened. Park Jimin, saying it had been great to hang out with you? Surely you were just stuck in a dream. One hell of a good dream, but a dream nonetheless.
“Well, I’m probably more fun when I’m sober and…” you trailed off, as your thoughts produced their first image of Collin ever since you had started eating that hangover soup – who knew hangover soup was so good?
Jimin had a gentle smile on his lips once you met his gaze again. “We all have our lows. After you cleaning up after me last week, it was the least I could do.”
The corners of your lips itched to stretch into a smile, and your heart started racing in your chest as he glanced at your lips. “Well”, you let out, gulping.
His smile turned into a knowing smirk as his eyes fell to the ground. Who had thought you’d get a tiny taste of the flirty Park Jimin on that hangover Saturday morning? Because clearly that smirk meant nothing good.
“I’ll let you head home”, he said after a moment, eyes moving back up to your face.
You almost startled as you noticed the shadows had cleared up, and his eyes were lit up with a spark of mischief.
You nodded, glancing at the door. You didn’t move, and Jimin cocked an eyebrow, hands burrowing in the pockets of his dark sweater.
“I…” you started, then your heart stuttered in your chest so bad you thought you were going to have an anxiety attack.
You took a deep breath, right as he scanned your features curiously. And then you decided to hell with your anxiety, and you formulated the question that was on your mind.
Jimin just looked at you, unblinkingly, right as the clouds moved back in his eyes.
“I don’t think we should”, he replied, before adding quickly, “Not that you’re not fun to be around. I just… I don’t think you want to be around me right now.”
There it was. A little piece of the truth that made Jimin who he was. You took it gently, tucking it in a safe corner of your mind.
“The least I can do to repay you for last night is cook some meal for you”, you said, shrugging.
Your heart was still beating out of your chest, but now that the invitation was out there, you felt as if you were relieved of the weight that was pressing down on you, weight brought on by your embarrassment about last night.
He held your gaze for a moment, before nodding curtly. “Okay.” He wet his lips, sighing once. “I’ll think about it. If you want, we can exchange phone numbers, and I’ll let you know?”
You nodded, taking a deep breath to ease the wild beats of your heart. “My phone is dead, but…”
He had his phone in his hands before you had even said your second word. “No worries, put your number in mine.”
He unlocked it, handing the cellphone to you. Your fingers brushed as you grabbed it, and for a moment you were stuck in a cheesy movie, and you could almost hear the music starting to play in the background.
For God’s sake, just the slight touch of his fingers against yours had made fireworks blow up in your mind. You really needed to get yourself in check, if you wanted to try to be friends with him.
You put in your number, before handing his phone back to him. This time, your fingers didn’t touch, and it almost disappointed you.
That scared you to no ends. Who were you to think you were worth Park Jimin’s friendship anyway?
 ***
                 If there was one thing you hadn’t expected from giving your phone number to the Park Jimin, it was how much of a texter he was. Indeed, there hadn’t been a single day he hadn’t texted you since Saturday, sending you memes he found funny or asking you about your day.
It made your heart do somersaults in your chest each time, even as you tried to calm it down. To remind it that you were just yourself, and that he was so much more than you. That you weren’t part of the same universe, other than that of being neighbors.
Maybe you were just being pessimistic, but you had to protect your heart somehow, right?
You highly doubted it really worked though. Because when you rode the elevator together with him on Wednesday evening, Jimin blabbered on and on about something you found you couldn’t really listen to, yet your heart seemed to be in synch with every word he said.
Not only was he a texter, but he was a talker too. You didn’t mind it one bit. No, it was so much more than that cold silence he had offered you for a month.
You wondered what he had been doing, in the last few days. Because the air around him didn’t seem quite as heavy as it had been before, and though there were still shadows in his eyes, you could see the sun peeking through the clouds. Sometimes they even scattered away, as if strong winds had pulled their heaviness away from him.
It was truly beautiful to see.
“What about you?” Jimin suddenly asked.
You zoned back in, glancing at him and blinking once as the doors slid open. “Uh?” you let out.
He laughed, heartily, head throwing back like you had seen him do so many times behind the screen of your phone. The real thing didn’t compare to it – no, it was so much more, like you had just been blessed by a rare phenomenon, one you knew you’d come to cherish.
“You weren’t listening to a word I said, weren’t you?”
The duality of Park Jimin confused you deeply. How could he have gone from ice itself to that warm smiley boy?
“Sorry, I’ve had a long day”, you lied.
No, it wasn’t the long day that was playing with your mind. It rather was him that clouded your thoughts, him and the fragrance of his cologne.
You hadn’t thought someone could smell so good before you’d stood in that elevator with him on a random Wednesday evening.
He pursed his lips in a sympathetic smile as you walked out of the elevator, aiming for your respective doors. “Well, I told you I wasn’t doing much tonight, and asked about you.”
Was that an invitation, hidden behind his words?
“Oh”, you let out. “I have leftover pasta from last night, so I’m probably just going to eat that and then chill.”
He nodded, that same soft smile still adorning his lips. “Sounds yummy.”
You really didn’t know where you found the courage to say that, but you said, “I have enough for two, if you want.”
He squinted his eyes a little, as if suspicious, before nodding once. “I need to take a shower, but I can come over in fifteen minutes.”
The sentence was said like a question, and you chuckled. For what you didn’t know.
“Sure, I’ll take a shower too.”
He nodded his head, grinning a little before dialing the code to his apartment. “Then see you soon.”
It’s strange, how friendship sometimes blossoms from the least expected place. Like a flower growing out of a crack in cement, or like the first weed piercing the blanket of snow after a long winter. Your friendship with Jimin felt just like that – him having been the cement you had somehow cracked open, that night you had broken down in front of him.
Just as you had had to finally let Collin go, Jimin had walked into your life, filling a hole that had threatened to swallow you whole for a time. You had never realized just how much you had wanted to find a way to make it work with Collin, until you had learned about Harper and him and their baby. In some deep dark corner of you, you had thought Collin would follow you, someday. The realization that he wouldn’t, on that Friday night, had been like a wake-up call you had desperately needed. That, and the unexpected friendship you and Jimin shared.
After that night he came over to eat pasta, you started to hang out frequently. He even invited you to the party for the release of Hoseok’s new album, though you had had to refuse. You didn’t really do parties like that. And maybe if you and Jimin had been friends for longer than 24h, you would have said yes, but you hadn’t been.
Yet, even though you hadn’t gone, he had come over to your place after. You were lucky you only taught two afternoon classes on Friday, because otherwise you would have been completely dead the next day. But everything had gone alright, and Jimin had apologized profusely for coming over so late, and he had offered getting ice cream together as an apology.
You had done that quite a lot, at the beginning. Finding reasons to hang out again, that is. Until you had stopped asking the other, just knocking on the other’s door whenever you felt like hanging out.
Slowly but surely, Jimin weaved its way into the tapestry that was your life, so thoroughly that you couldn’t imagine it without him now. Though you both never crossed that line between friendship and more, and really you were thankful for it.
You definitely weren’t ready to get involved in a relationship anyway.
And you had been right, about him becoming a better neighbor. Indeed, as the shadows in his eyes became infrequent whenever you were around, Jimin stopped acting like he had at first, the loud music becoming a rare occurrence with you usually being present. He also kept his apartment clean and organized, saying he didn’t want you to see the filth he had lived in for a couple of months. It was endearing, in some way, though you usually helped him with the cleaning, because he always helped you with yours. And he had stopped leaving his trash outside his door, preventing the hallway from taking a sour odor you really didn’t wish to smell ever again.
One late September evening, you found yourself cuddled on Jimin’s couch, holding a pillow tight to your chest as you were watching a lame horror movie. Hoseok was sprawled on the carpet, and Jimin had mentioned another one of his friends – Sungwoon – coming over later, though you hadn’t met him yet. It was strange, as he was one of Jimin’s closest friends, but then again you rarely hung out with other people.
That was a lie. You hung out with Chaeyoung and her girlfriend plenty, but that was only because Chaeyoung found way too many excuses for you to hang out together. She had mentioned the terms “double date” more than once, and each time you had glared at your friend until she had apologized. Though clearly Chaeyoung was set on one thing and one thing only – make sure you forgot everything about Collin, and it seemed she believed getting together with Jimin would be the key to that.
Perhaps it was weird, but you had promised yourself you weren’t going to indulge into the drug that Park Jimin was. And so far you hadn’t been tempted – Jimin was just an overall really friendly person, underneath that cold persona he had sported at the beginning, and he had helped you when you were at a low point. 
One thing was for sure: you were aware of him, all the time. Because Jimin shone in every room he stepped in, and it was hard to look away from him. To ignore the heady scent of his fragrance, even as it made your body react in a way you always pushed away to the far back of your mind.
You blamed it on the fact that you were a woman and he, a man. It was bound to make you feel something once in a while. Not forgetting the fact that he was goddamn Park Jimin.
You scoffed and Jimin threw you a questioning glance. You slightly shook your head, to indicate that you were alright, before focusing back on the TV. Jimin didn’t say anything either, and you watched the movie for a while, without glancing at each other again. A rectangle of light near the floor also had you realizing that Hoseok wasn’t paying attention to the movie at all, instead scrolling on Instagram.
The music swelled, catching your attention, and the end of the movie flashed before your eyes, all the main characters dying one by one at the hand of a crazy ventriloquist doll, whose tongue got longer and longer with each person it killed. It was terrifyingly captivating, and you found you couldn’t look away, even if the movie was over all not the scary movie you had expected it’d be.
Once the credits started rolling on the screen, and the pumping of the blood in your veins finally slowed back down, you all moved towards the kitchen, in the hope that you’d find a wine bottle in the fridge. Which you did, and you were halfway through your first glass when Sungwoon arrived, and luckily enough the young man had brought refills for the coffers – beer and makgeolli.
And so you drank, alcohol flowing freely between you all. You found yourself attracted by Sungwoon’s gravity, and you stood close to him, while Jimin and Hoseok talked about their current projects at the kitchen table. In any other situation, you would have been uncomfortable – you barely even were comfortable with Hoseok, even though he was Jimin’s friend you had spent the most time with – but Sungwoon had a calm aura surrounding him, and you quite enjoyed it. Or maybe it was because Jimin was in the vicinity of you, and you always felt comfortable around him.
“So, your mom is a famous actress, right?” Sungwoon asked as he was leaning against the island in Jimin’s kitchen. One of his arms was folded on his chest, while the other held up the beer he was currently drinking, though you could see the bottle was almost empty.
You nodded, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, you probably wouldn’t have found anything to reply, but you found yourself saying, “It’s not as impressive as it seems”.
Sungwoon chuckled, and you gazed at his smile. At the plump lips that he wet with a dart of his tongue, and that glistened in the light as he spoke again. “Right. And yet you found yourself escaping to the other side of the world.”
It was said on a teasing tone, and though your thoughts threatened to diverge towards Collin, you stopped their course before they reached destination. “I’ve always wanted to get out of my comfort zone.”
“I hope it worked.” His words were accompanied by the upward curve of his lips, and your eyes dipped to them again. His mouth reminded you of another’s mouth, and you found your gaze trailing toward where Jimin and Hoseok were sitting, at the kitchen table.
Jimin caught your eyes, his expression softening into one you hadn’t really seen on his features before. Blood rushed to your cheeks, for a reason you didn’t quite know, and you resumed your attention on Sungwoon.
“Trust me, it did.” And even though Jimin wasn’t in your line of sight anymore, he had invaded your thoughts as you had spoken the truth.
Sungwoon maintained the conversation for a while longer, as you were all too aware of Jimin’s presence in the room. You liked to tell yourself that it was reciprocated, because each time you glanced at him, he was already looking. Until he and Hoseok got up from their spot at the table, making their way to Sungwoon and you.
“Do you two want to go to Taehyung’s party?” Jimin asked as he stopped next to you.
Right, he had talked to you about that party a while ago, and you had said you’d rather stay home, which Jimin had agreed to. But that was before Hoseok had decided to come hang out with you before heading to the party. It seemed the frenzy that inhabited the young man had slowly infected Jimin, because he had an expectant look in his eyes, his lips forming a small begging pout.
You chuckled, blushing, as you avoided his pleading features. “I already told you I don’t really do parties like that.”
Sungwoon let out a small teasing tsk. “Didn’t you say you like getting out of your comfort zone?”
You were about to reply that hanging out with celebrities all the time was already enough getting out of your comfort zone when Jimin gently nudged you with his elbow.
“She’ll say yes, she can’t resist me.”
His words had sounded… somewhat possessive. As if he knew you better than anyone in the world, even though your friendship was fairly new. It struck you, just how little time mattered when you developed a true relationship with someone, no matter how platonic it was.
The worst part of it all was that he was right, in some sort of way. You found it hard to say no to him, but then again you were pretty sure most of the human population would find it hard to say no to Park Jimin.
“Well, I’m getting tired”, you lied, because in truth the alcohol had woken you up more than you had thought it possible, even if you hadn’t touched the makgeolli yet.
Jimin had a devilish smirk on his lips once you finally looked back at him again. “In that case let’s just go for an hour or two and then come home.”
Hoseok and Sungwoon’s gazes moved from Jimin to you, awaiting your reply.
“You say that, and then it’ll be seven am and you’ll be begging me to stay longer.”
He snorted. “I’d never beg you for anything, you know that.”
Immediately, his features once again softened into that small pout of his, and you punched him in the shoulder. 
“Asshole.”
He massaged the spot you had hit, shrugging a little. “I’ll make you some kimchi if we go.”
It was even harder to say no when the perspective of him making you kimchi was on the table. 
“The one you made in Run BTS?”
He nodded.
“I hate you.”
“Is that code word for yes?”
You rolled your eyes, though a smile was tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe. Figure it out.”
His expression turned puzzled, and you stole a quick look towards Sungwoon and Hoseok, who both had that same puzzled expression on their features, though it was mixed with awe. What for, you didn’t know.
“I will call a cab, then,” Jimin said, the end of his sentence going a little higher, as if it was a question more than a statement.
You nodded once, and relief flooded his gaze as he pulled out his phone. Next thing you knew, you were sitting between Jimin and Sungwoon on the backseat of the cab as you were making your way to Taehyung’s party, regretting your decision just a little. Not enough to want to head home, though.
One thing you hadn’t expected about Kim Taehyung was how weirdly extroverted he was. Not quite extroverted, but ready to throw a party in the comfort of his own place at any moment whatsoever. His parties were coveted by the celebrity scene of Seoul, though not many people were usually invited. No, Taehyung still had an intimate aura surrounding him, like he was a mystery no one could really quite decipher, and so intimate parties were more his thing.
Those parties came like a cycle, once every month if they weren’t too busy, and were usually attended by the members of BTS and a couple of other artists from Hybe. He had even started inviting the members of Blackpink and his Wooga squad, though that had been before you had started attending the parties.
In all truth, you had only gone to one, and you were still uncertain if it had been real or a product of your imagination. A lucid dream, if you will.
Tonight proved to be different, though you were taken aback by the crowd in Taehyung’s living room, illuminated by only a string of red LED lights. Jazz music was playing over the speakers in one corner, and people were mingling around, no inhibition left behind.
It was a good thing no cameras were allowed in, otherwise you were pretty sure the whole Korean entertainment industry would have gone through so much drama it would have crumbled to the ground.
A champagne fountain was in the corner of the room, glasses precariously piled one on top of the others. People stayed away from it, a man in a black tux giving the drink to the partiers, in a clear attempt to avoid an accident.
You slid your gaze to Jimin once you’d taken the room in, your eyes a little wide. Sungwoon and Hoseok had already disappeared into the crowd.
“You didn’t tell me there would be so many people”, you said through gritted teeth, right as you felt your anxiety spike through the roof.
Jimin had a sheepish look on his face, and he didn’t hold your gaze, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I honestly had no idea.” He pursed his lips, before nibbling on the bottom one. “We can head home if you want.”
Perhaps it was because you had already drunk enough for your mind to be clouded with alcohol, or maybe it was the apologetic expression on Jimin’s features, but you said, “Let’s stay for an hour and then leave”.
The sheepish expression melted into a smile. “Do you want me to get you champagne?”
Before you could reply, Hoseok came back, two glasses in hands. He handed them to you, and you thanked him, bowing your head, though you weren’t quite sure you felt like drinking more than you already had. You had never been that much of a heavy drinker after all.
“Tae says he’ll play the trumpet soon”, he informed you, right as he glanced over his shoulder.
Jimin took a sip of his glass, then seemed to reconsider his decision as he threw it back and downed it in one long gulp. You handed yours to him as he looked at you. He shook his head no, motioning for you to drink up. You scrunched up your nose, because quite frankly you had never liked champagne, but you downed the glass nonetheless.
Here’s to not getting plastered.
You scrunched up your nose in disgust as your throat burned with the bubbles of the golden liquid, and Jimin let out a childish laugh that had your heart melting in your chest. You glared at him, and he winked.
“Now let’s go party.”
You were about to say no when the music turned to an upbeat tempo, and he grabbed your hand to pull you into the crowd. You held onto the champagne flute for dear life as he led you to the middle of the living room, and when he turned around and started dancing, you just stood there awkwardly.
That made Jimin giggle harder, and he hid his face behind his hand as he laughed.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
You glared at him, eyes narrowing dangerously. “You know I don’t really dance in public.”
He grabbed the glass from your hand, and your eyes widened in surprise as he disappeared. You tried watching him through the crowd, but you were too small to see over the heads of the people surrounding you.
“Where’s Jimin?” a male voice said in your ear, startling you from its proximity.
It was Sungwoon.
“I don’t know”, you admitted. “I think he went to bring our glasses back to the pyramid.”
Sungwoon glanced in that direction, nodding once. “He’s heading back this way.”
You tried to catch a glimpse of your friend, but it proved to be useless.
“Do you like to dance?” Sungwoon asked, leaning closer again to speak in your ear, and your cheeks flushed red as his warm breath hit your ear and the smell of his cologne met your nose.
Clearly Jimin wasn’t the only man in the world that smelled too damn good for your sanity.
“Not really”, you admitted, and you wringed your hands together. “Not at all, actually.”
Before Sungwoon could say anything, Jimin reappeared. “What are you two doing?” he asked, and there was a slight strain to his voice.
Sungwoon straightened, stepping away from you. “Just talking.”
Jimin nodded, tight-lipped smile adorning his lips. You chuckled at the look on his face, and he stared you up and down, a sassy fist resting on his hip.
“What’s got you laughing?” he asked.
You tilted your head to the side. You. This whole situation, the champagne and the music. “Nothing.”
Jimin clearly didn’t believe you, as he stepped closer. “Well then, why don’t you dance for me?”
It was the way he said those last two words, so innocently and yet they were coated with velvet. It made you gasp a little, mouth falling open as you tried to find a smart-ass comment to reply, but came up short.
You didn’t have to glance to the side to realize Sungwoon was gone.
“I don’t dance”, you replied, blushing.
He smirked then, his eyes taking on a darkened shade in the red lights of the room. “I’ll show you.”
And he did. He did show you, with his hands guiding your hips as he pulled you against him, your backside flush against him. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the overall sensual atmosphere that had taken over Taehyung’s apartment, but you didn’t want to move away. Wanted to press yourself further into the solid wall that was Jimin behind you.
It was wrong, yet it felt oh so right.
You moved in unison for a while, as if you had done it many times before. As if grinding on Jimin was a common occurrence to you, the girl that had never grinded on anyone before. Jimin kept speaking in your ear, tone still friendly even with the proximity, as if the dance meant nothing.
And though you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t, you found your heart didn’t really want to believe it.
“See, you’re not so bad”, Jimin encouraged you, hot breath tickling the side of your face.
You snorted, trying not to think about his hands guiding your hips. “You’re doing all the work.”
He chuckled, before spinning you around. His hands still were on your hips, but the movement had somehow put a little distance between you, enough so that you didn’t feel uncomfortable with his proximity.
Scratch that, you felt uncomfortable with how far he suddenly was.
“Give yourself some credit, Y/n”, he said with a light chuckle. “You’re a natural.”
You knew that you in fact were anything but a natural, but you still offered him a lopsided smile. He replied with a grin of his own, one that held nothing but that friendly warmth that had been inhabiting him since the night you had broken down at his place.
You wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t tried getting into his apartment, that day. You were almost convinced you wouldn’t be friends now. You liked to tell yourself he’d have warm up to you still, but there was no way to know, and it wasn’t a parallel universe you wished to live in.
“I think Tae’s going to play the trumpet now”, Jimin said, and he let go of your hips as the music stopped.
You almost wished he hadn’t, but then again it was better for your sanity that way.
“He is so random”, you mumbled and you watched Tae as he stepped on the couch, indeed holding his trumpet.
Jimin laughed, nodding eagerly. “He is. That’s why we love him.”
You glanced at Jimin then, and it endeared you, how he looked at Tae. With a small warm smile, eyes creased at the corners with the fondness they held. It struck you then – that was how he had been looking at you earlier.
With fondness, and maybe even a little surprise. As if he hadn’t expected to be looking at you like that one day.
You truly had changed, hadn’t you? From strangers to close friends... it was the most beautiful thing in life.
Taehyung started playing the trumpet, catching your attention, and you watched the show as he free-styled some jazz music – all jazz music felt free-styled to you. He stopped once in a while, to take a breath or to let out a giggle at someone’s comment or cheer, his boxy smile on display whenever he looked at the crowd of his friends.
You found yourself gazing at Jimin, too. He wasn’t looking at you, or whenever you looked he turned his head away, as if pretending he hadn’t been looking in the first place. It was cute, and so like Jimin that you found yourself giggling a little, blush creeping on your cheeks, the fifth time you almost caught him looking.
He leaned closer to you, a crease appearing between his brows. “What are you giggling about?”
You. Your thoughts had followed that train earlier, and this time they won. “About you.”
He squinted his eyes, a pout forming on his lips. “What?”
You shushed him, nodding towards Taehyung. “It’s impolite to talk during a show”, you whispered, and he glared at you, though the corners of his lips were tugging upwards.
“Sorry, sorry.”
It just made you smile wider than you already were, as your eyes trailed back to Taehyung.
Soon enough, the young man finished is little performance, in a fit of laughter that was mostly shared by his Wooga squad, as they had been the closest to him. Whatever they had been joking about seemed to be quite funny, and you felt your heart warm in your chest.
It often did, when you saw just how happy your favourite idols were, in their natural habitat. Indeed, it was quite hard to forget you had been a big BTS fan, and really, you just wished all of them would be happy.
They were, though they were humans, and they too had their up-and-downs. You knew that more than anything, now.
It was well past 2 am when you and Jimin stumbled back home, and you didn’t even have to talk about it for you to follow Jimin into his apartment. You settled on the couch, minds still buzzing with the afterglow of the revelry the night had entailed.
You often did that – sleep overs, that is. You hadn’t stepped into his room since the dreaded night though, and you usually slept on the couch. Most times he stayed with you, though you both slept at an extremity of the couch, far enough not to touch.
So you settled on your sides, cozying up in blankets Jimin had fished in his room, and you leaned your head against the couch as Jimin looked at his phone.
The glow of the screen caressed his features gently, high-lighting the red his cheeks had taken after the alcohol had fully reached his system. He was pouting a little, as he often did when he focused on something, and it took him a moment to realize you were staring at him.
“Are you okay?” he asked once his eyes finally met yours.
You almost said that you had never been more okay in your life, but it felt like it was a lie. You had been feeling like that for weeks now, all thanks to the friendship he offered you.
“I told you we’d be coming home late”, you said as you held in a yawn.
He pursed his lips, shrugging his shoulders. “You said 7 am, and it’s not even 3 am yet.”
You chuckled. “I’m surprised I enjoyed the party that much”, you admitted, face falling serious as your eyes lost their focus on him, images of the night coming back to your mind. “Taehyung is really good at throwing parties.”
“The best”, Jimin agreed. “He even got you to dance to That That.”
You laughed, and then winced. “That was embarrassing.”
He echoed your laugh with one of his own, giggling and childish and really too cute for your own good. “I have to agree that Jungkook stole the show.”
“Doesn’t he always?” you asked, sighing dramatically.
Jimin nodded, and this time you stayed silent, as he looked at his phone again. Until a mischievous smirk moved on his lips, and you only understood why when the song started playing.
He shot to his feet, holding out a hand to pull you to a stand too.
“What are you doing?” you asked, brows knitting together as you grabbed his hand carefully.
“If you dance it now, you’d be the one stealing the show.”
You barked out a laugh that was anything but lady-like as he pulled you up. “Bitch, you’re the better dancer here.”
He shrugged again. “I won’t be dancing.”
And as if he wanted to convince you that he indeed wouldn’t, he sat back on the couch, manspreading just a little too much. Which had your eyes looking down at his lap, and you would have gouged your eyeballs out for the treachery to your heart that it was.
“That’s not fair”, you said, cheeks burning. “I won’t dance for you.”
“Then say goodbye to your kimchi.” He crossed his arm on his chest, one eyebrow cocked sassily.
“I hate you”, you mumbled, right as the chorus of the song came around.
You folded though, and you danced to the choreography, missing the beat by a little. You didn’t really care, as Jimin just started laughing, and you followed him, stopping in the middle of the dance.
“Aishi, that’s embarrassing”, you whined, hiding your face in your hands.
You heard the rustle of clothes, and you froze as Jimin gently grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. He was standing close, though the only part of him that was touching you was his palms.
Until his lips pressed against yours, and your eyes widened in surprise. You took a step back, and Jimin looked at you with that same startled look on his face.
“What did you just do?” you asked, heart beating out of your chest.
He wet his lips, and his features turned apologetic. “I kissed you.”
Now, there were many moments you could point out as having shaped your life. The moment you had decided to move to Korea, that last call with Collin, the moment Jimin had opened his door to you and you had stepped into his apartment, into his life. The day you had graduated college, and before that, the day you had graduated high school. Small moments – big moments, maybe – that had formed the mosaic of your past, and shaped you into being who you were today, into being where you were today. And maybe that was it: they had been slowly forming the mosaic of this moment with Jimin, if you chose to let him in.
And just like the sun hitting the mosaic at the perfect angle, you knew you couldn’t step away.
“Do it again”, you said, breathlessly, and a hundred emotions seemed to move in Jimin’s gaze before he grabbed your face, pulling you into the kiss.
You exploded with colors, bright and warm like an early fall afternoon, and you kissed him back, your hands resting flat against his chest, feeling the quick beat of his heart under your right palm. Your left hand slid up to the nape of his neck as one of his moved to your waist, pulling you ever so closer, right as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss.
Park Jimin was definitely the best kiss you had ever had in your life. As if all the ones before him had been amateurs, and he was a professional in the arts of love. And maybe he was, or he just had far more experience than you did. Or perhaps it was just that you had been waiting for him all this time, and he for you.
Jimin gently bit at your bottom lip, tongue darting out to soothe the ache as a breathy sound fell from your mouth, only to be swallowed by his. It seemed to do something to him, that sound, because next thing you knew he was pulling you closer to the couch.
He sat as soon as the back of his legs hit the furniture, once again manspreading, and this time you climbed on the throne that was his lap, straddling him. You joined your lips again, sealing the deal. Because that was what it felt like – as if you were making a deal with the devil.
Jimin was too good to be true, and too good to be yours.
The thought sparked some sense in your lust-filled mind, and you pulled away, breathing heavily as your gaze met his. He looked startled, lips a little swollen by the ministration of your mouth against his. By the fact you had been kissing, lost in the moment, just a few seconds ago.
Your hands were on his shoulders, and you pushed yourself away, until you were standing and there finally was a healthy distance between you.
“I…” you breathed and your eyes fell to his mouth, before going back to his gaze. To the shadows that were now moving in front of the sun, and you wished you could take it back.
Take the last two minutes back, and forget that you had ever kissed.
“I should go home”, you muttered.
He didn’t try to stop you. Didn’t even say anything, as if he was struck dumb by what you had just done. Maybe you were too, and maybe that explained the panic that was slowly settling into your blood, into your entire being.
What had you just done?
 ***
                 It had been a few weeks, since Taehyung’s party, and whatever had happened after that. You had tried not to think about it, had pretended it had never happened… and so had Jimin. He had shown up on your doorstep the next morning, with hangover soup, and he hadn’t mentioned anything. Had only offered you a warm friendly smile as you had just stared at him for a moment, until he had joked about you looking like a fish out of water, and that had been that.
You hadn’t mentioned it once, falling back into your usual friendship, with a safe distance that felt a little wider now. Probably because at night you still somehow remembered how little distance there had been between you, on his couch, and how much of his body you had been touching. Not that you had touched a lot… it just felt like you had.
Fortunately, it was easy, to be friends with Jimin. Had been for a while now, and you would forever be thankful that it still was after the little bump in the road that you had encountered. Though you sometimes caught the shadows in his eyes, clouds that you had imagined had scattered away after you had grown closer…
They never lingered. He smiled, and they left, as his gaze turned warm with that same fondness and friendliness and overall kind light that they always held. You liked to tell yourself that you knew enough to be able to tell if it was faked, but in reality, you couldn’t really. Maybe you just wanted to believe it to be the truth.
You had shattered the mosaic of you, as you had stepped away that night, but it was hard to convince yourself that you hadn’t done the right thing. He was Park Jimin, and you were no one. No one compared to him, and compared to the people that were part of his day-to-day life. You doubted there was a universe out there where it made sense for you and him to be together like that. And really, your friendship was enough for you, and you were perfectly happy and content keeping it the way that it was. It was a different mosaic, one that held more blues and lilacs and yellows, but they formed a work of art still worth looking at, for all the missing red that it held.
October came with chill winds and bright leaves, the color of autumn creating a beautiful landscape of their own. Jimin invited you to Busan, for the concert that was long awaited by Army. He had everything arranged for you so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything, everything down to the hotel room and the food that you’d eat. You were thankful for it, even though you could have easily paid for it all. It showed just how good of a friend Jimin was. He even organized a dinner with his family and some of the members, two days after the concert, saying that he wanted his family to meet you, as you were the person he spent the most time with now.
You were excited, for the dinner. Anxious, but excited nonetheless, as you couldn’t wait to see Jimin in the most natural setting that was his. Because Seoul never really felt natural with him. It rather was surreal, painted in a light you had never thought you’d see.
Hoseok and Jin ended up being the two only members to come to the dinner, and you sat with them, as Jimin helped his mother in the kitchen even though she had insisted she didn’t need any help. His father was supposed to come later, and it was unclear if his brother would be able to make it. It didn’t dim Jimin’s joy though, and he beamed as he moved around the kitchen with his mother.
His mother had been sweet, as Jimin had introduced you to the older lady when you had arrived at his childhood home. You could see that Jimin had her smile, though it seemed the woman’s smile was rarer than her son’s. Or maybe she was just cautious around you.
It reminded you that you were a foreigner, and that there was more than just a single world between you and Jimin. Not only was he an idol, but he was Korean, and you weren’t. It was simple, but you truly didn’t belong to the same universe. And you were okay with it – you had more stories to tell each other, from your respective universes. From your respective mosaics, that met at the edges in those shades of lilac and blue and yellow. It just wasn’t made to become one mosaic. You were two individual pieces, and it was to remain like that.
Yet, you couldn’t help but gaze at him, every once in a while. Each time you caught him already looking at you, and he offered you a cute grin, the one that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. It made your heart stutter in your chest, just a little, and you cursed at it, repeatedly.
It didn’t matter that Park Jimin had kissed you, once. You were just friends, and you hated that you sometimes felt like that about him. Like what you didn’t know… you just knew that you shouldn’t be feeling anything at all. Because he was Jimin, yes, but mostly because of Collin.
You weren’t ready to dive into anything right now. Doubted you’d ever be ready, after having been broken like you had been.
“Y/n!” Hoseok called your name, and you blinked a few times, focusing on reality. On the conversation the two men had been having, though you hadn’t listened to a single word of it.
“Uh?” you let out.
Jin had a smirk on his lips. “See, I told you.”
You furrowed your brows as they exchanged a knowing look. “What are you two going on about?”
Hoseok shrugged, running a hand through his hair. His hand then landed on the table, and your eyes dipped to the painted nails that adorned his fingers, before going back to his face.
“You two are weird”, you muttered, and then blushed as you realized what you had said. Though they just laughed, and you sighed in relief.
A little tiny part of you still felt really uncomfortable around BTS. Even if you had met all the members on more than one occasion. To be fair, Jin was the one you knew the less, but it helped that Hoseok was the one you were closest to. Besides Jimin, obviously. Yet you wouldn’t even dare call Hoseok a friend. He was just an acquaintance, at best.
“Why don’t you go help Jimin?” Jin asked, and he let out one of his iconic laughs as Hoseok punched him in the shoulder.
Your eyes trailed to Jimin, and you could see he was talking with his mother. Whatever they were talking about, it looked to be way too personal for you to want to step in.
“I…” you let out.
“You’re going to make her uncomfortable”, Hoseok said, chuckling. “Leave the poor girl alone.”
“Shut it, you agree with me anyway.” Jin punctuated his words with a small wink, that left you even more confused than you already were.
“What is going on?” you asked, cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment.
“We were saying that… Ow!” Jin yelped.
Hoseok had kicked him under the table. Yet it didn’t deter Jin, just made his shit-eating grin grow wider.
“What do you think about Jimin?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as he folded his arms on his chest.
If you hadn’t already been blushing, you were pretty sure you’d have turn beet red. Scratch that – you were pretty sure your blush had deepened so much you had turned purple.
“What…” you let out. “I…” You threw a look toward the man in question, who was still very much so engaged in a conversation with his mother, unaware of what was happening just a few meters away.
“You don’t have to reply”, Hoseok told you gently, offering you salvation.
Maybe you were stupid for not accepting it. “He’s a good friend.”
Jin’s grin faded into a knowing smile. “Friend?”
You gulped under his inquisitive gaze. “Why do you want to know?” you asked with a small voice.
“Because.” He glared at Hoseok as the young man threw him a warning glance. “You two have been spending a lot of time together, haven’t you?”
You couldn’t really deny that, so you just remained silent.
“They are neighbors, of course they have”, Hoseok replied instead.
Jin chuckled, finally nodding his head. “Right. Still, they might need help over there.”
“Just go yourself”, Hoseok said, rolling his eyes before laughing. “Leave Y/n alone.”
It was sweet, how Hoseok was trying to get Jin off your back, but you did actually feel like Jimin might need some rescuing from his mother.
Indeed, even if his back was turned to you, and his moon tattoo was the only thing you could really see, you could tell he had stiffened. And maybe it was wrong for you to feel like interrupting, but you just wanted to help your friend, right?
“It’s okay, I can ask if they need any help”, you said, pushing up to your feet.
Hoseok and Jin looked at you, the latter failing at keeping the shit-eating grin in. You couldn’t help but chuckle, though it mostly was because you were embarrassed.
Embarrassed and anxious, and probably still blushing like crazy.
You walked towards the kitchen, taking a deep breath to calm down, and to also push away the thoughts that were intrusively taking over your mind.
You weren’t stupid, and you were very much so aware of what Jin had been implying. And though Jin was right, to have a doubt about you and Jimin, he also was wrong. Because you were just you, and nothing more.
“I’m serious, Jimin-ie.” His mother’s words drifted to you, as Jin and Hoseok’s voices slowly faded in the background. “You shouldn’t be dating someone like her.”
You stopped, eyes widening.
“We are not dating, eoma.” Jimin scoffed, shaking his head. “We are just friends.”
It sounded bitter, so bitter you felt your heart clenching in your chest.
“Good, then. I’m sure she is sweet, but you shouldn’t be with someone…” Jimin’s mother trailed off, as her eyes met yours over Jimin’s shoulder. Her face changed, turning from that cold stern look she had been sporting a fraction of a second ago to a warm smile that even reached her eyes, making them crinkle in that same way Jimin’s eyes crinkled.
Jimin looked over his shoulder, not quite meeting your gaze, before looking back at his mother.
“Please don’t tell me what to do with my life.”
His voice was low, barely above a whisper, really, but you had moved closer, your steps carrying you even when your heart had stopped a few meters away. You forced your face to melt into a smile, and you really hoped it reached your eyes.
“Do you need any help with the food?” you asked, as you stopped next to Jimin. You didn’t look at him, instead focusing on his mother.
The woman slightly tilted her head to the side, before glancing at the array of food on the kitchen counter. “I’ve got it covered, thank you for offering, dear.”
You nodded, finally risking a glance at Jimin. He hadn’t looked away from his mother, and his profile was set in a harsh expression, one you recognized as the one he had offered you in those first few weeks after you had moved. It was almost startling, to see it on his pretty features right now, but you didn’t shy away from it.
He was right, you were just friends. Even though a part of you hurt at the thought that his mother wouldn’t approve of you, it didn’t change the fact that you were just friends. Had become friends by a weird twist of fate, that was true, but it was nothing more than that.
Yet, to have two people questioning you about the relationship that you shared in less than five minutes… it was scary. And it threatened the peaceful friendliness that you had been sharing since that kiss. Threatening to push it off the edge of a cliff, and you weren’t quite sure the fall would be for the better.
Jimin’s jaw was clenched, a muscle ticking under his skin, and as his mother turned, you brushed your hand against the tight fist that was hanging at his side, in an attempt to calm him down. To your surprise, his fist loosened, and half a beat later he brushed your hand too.
It brought you back to that kiss, and you pulled your hand away instinctively. He only then glanced at you, and you gulped at the sight of the shadows in his eyes. He looked troubled, haunted even, and even though he wasn’t clenching his jaw anymore, his lips were pulled into a straight line.
You breathed in, shakily, and tried to offer him a reassuring smile. You weren’t quite sure you had succeeded, even as the corners of his lips slightly tugged upwards too. The shadows didn’t really leave his gaze, and you found you couldn’t hold his eyes anymore.
Maybe that made you a coward.
 ***
                 You sighed as you took in the thin mat Jimin’s mother had placed on the floor of his father’s office, for you to sleep on. You had thanked the woman profusely still, even though a part of you was angered, at the thought that she had said what she had said to Jimin. You had tried to let it go, had tried to let go what Jin had said too, but some part of you had been struggling, grasping onto the last thread of the conversation, refusing to let it fall into silence.
Perhaps it was because Jimin’s attitude had changed, after that. He hadn’t quite smiled as he usually did, had barely joked around with his family and friends. He had instead brooded in a corner, and even Hoseok and Jin hadn’t been able to shake him out of the dark state of mind that had taken over him.
You felt guilty. Though you hadn’t quite been the culprit, hadn’t you? Except for that night when you had kissed him and imagined you could share something more than friendship…
You had been fools, the two of you.
“Y/n”, Jimin said from the doorway, and you spun around, slightly startled.
He was beautiful, in the simple pajamas he had brought for the trip. He still was wearing his earrings, and they dangled from his ears as he leaned against the doorframe, hands in the pocket of his pants.
“Hey”, you let out, eyes shying from his, falling to the floor.
An awkward silence moved around you, filling the already warm room with an uncomfortable heat that pressed down on you.
“I have to apologize”, Jimin murmured, and your eyes shot to his face.
He wasn’t looking at you anymore.
“For thinking that this dinner was a good idea.”
You didn’t like the way a sharp pain cut through your heart. Hated it, loathed it, and wished it had never reached your heart.
“The dinner was fine”, you said with a small voice.
Jimin chuckled, and it once again sounded bitter. “I know you heard what my mother said.” He scoffed a little then, before adding, “I know Jin-hyung also said something to you. He kept apologizing for it, when they left. He thought that was the reason why I’ve been upset.”
You were stuck in silence, even though you wanted to say something, anything, to reassure him. It felt as if the shadows in Jimin’s eyes were slowly taking over the whole place surrounding you.
“It wasn’t, if you were wondering”, he said after a moment, finally meeting your gaze again. Holding it was the hardest thing you had ever had to do.
“What’s wrong, Jimin?” you asked. Your voice was tiny, so tiny you wanted to disappear through the floor.
He clenched his jaw, lips pressing into a thin line, much like they had earlier. “We should have talked, about that night.”
You wanted to pretend you didn’t know what he was talking about, but it would have been useless.
“It didn’t mean anything”, you whispered.
He breathed in, his shoulders moving up a little, before falling back down into their previous position. A little lower, maybe.  It made him look defeated, and oh so tired.
“I know.” He shut his eyes, sighing once again. “I’m sorry it happened.”
Your heart squeezed a little more in your chest, making it hard for you to breathe. “It’s okay, Jimin, I never was angry at you. We were both just drunk.”
He nodded, slowly, eyes still closed. “Yeah.”
The silence that fell around you then was different. Colder, and you found yourself shivering despite the previous heat.
“Well”, he let out, pushing up from the doorframe, his eyelids finally fluttering open. “I’ll let you go to bed.”
He made to turn away, and you found yourself blinking back tears. “We’re good, right?”
You didn’t know why you had asked. Only knew that fear had taken a hold of you, much like it had in a parallel night to this one, when Collin had broken up with you. Maybe you were looking for reassurance, or maybe you were just afraid to face the truth.
Because it did feel like there was a finality in the way Jimin was carrying himself.
“Of course”, he said, nodding slowly once again. “Of course we are.”
“Good”, you quickly said, scanning his features, trying to get him to look at you, because you knew his eyes never lied. “I’m glad we are.”
“Me too”, he whispered.
But he hadn’t met your gaze.
He hadn’t met your gaze.
 ***
               Waking up the next morning felt wrong, as if the sun had risen in the west instead of the east. As if rain was going up instead of down, and as if the stars had gone black. It was strange, to have the grief of losing Collin hitting you that hard, so long after the events. It had been months, now, yet it was just hitting you how alone you felt.
You refused to think that it had something to do with your conversation with Jimin last night. You had just stated a simple truth, one that you had to learn to live with. But why did it feel like such a lie, then?
Maybe because it was, and the night you had kissed had changed everything. You had been a fool to believe it hadn’t affected your friendship. You were pretty sure it had ruined it, like the final scene of a movie, where the main character dies for no other purpose than shocking the watcher. It had put a finality, to you, and to a story that could have been beautiful.
You got up from the sleeping mat, feeling as if you were being crushed under the weight of your heart.
“Good morning, Y/n”, a voice said from the doorframe.
You turned around, slower than you had the night before, in that same setting. Except this time, it wasn’t Jimin, but his mother.
“Jimin wanted me to tell you that he had to go back to Seoul early, but he’s had a car come to get you.”
Really, the world was spinning off its axis now. Because the friend you had known in the last few months would have never left you behind, no matter the reason.
“Thank you for letting me know”, you said, eyes falling to a spot on the floor.
“There is some breakfast for you”, his mother said, unaware of the way your heart was breaking, “if you’d like to eat before leaving.”
Now, the perspective of eating a breakfast cooked by Jimin’s mother reassured you, somehow. Maybe because the woman’s food was outstanding, as you had been able to see for yourself the night before.
You nodded, offering the woman a small smile. “That sounds lovely.”
The older lady smiled back, before indicating that she’d be waiting in the kitchen. And that was how you found yourself sitting in front of her, over more food than you’d ever be able to eat so early in the morning, though everything looked delicious.
It was awkward, to be sitting there, when some part of you was aching at the thought of Jimin. His mother offered you a light conversation, asking questions about where you were from, and what you did for a living. Nothing really intrusive, and really, if she hadn’t told anything to Jimin last night, you would have even thought she liked you.
You weren’t stupid, though, and you could hear the disapproving silence that stretched between the woman’s sentences.
“And how did you meet Jimin?” she suddenly asked, after having sipped on her tea. “He never really told me anything other than that time you visited the condominium.”
You froze, food halfway to your mouth. “What?”
The lady smiled, letting out a small chuckle. “He mentioned you, last February. Said a pretty girl and her boyfriend were going to move in next door.”
Silence. That was all that your mind was able to produce after the lady’s revelation. It seemed to dim her light mood because her smile fell, and a worried creased appeared between her brows.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
You shook out of your trance, putting down the food in the plate in front of you. “No”, you murmured, eyes falling down a second after the food.
You hadn’t known. Jimin had never mentioned… that he had seen you, too, the day he had met Collin. You had barely ever spoken about it, Collin a foreign territory when it came to conversation between you. But he had admitted he had seen Collin, in that hallway between your apartments.
Why hadn’t he told you? How had you been so close to him, back then, without even knowing?
You doubted you’d ever be able to be close to him without knowing again. You were too… aware of him now that you had gotten to know him. Now that you knew his lips molded yours perfectly…
“He didn’t tell me”, you finally admitted, as Jimin’s mother still was looking at you pointedly.
Said a pretty girl and her boyfriend were going to move next door.
“Oh”, his mother let out. “But you have gotten close, haven’t you?”
You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. You nodded, taking a deep breath to steel yourself. “We have. Couldn’t imagine my life without him now.”
Your words hung heavily, in the air between you and his mother. You wished you hadn’t spoken them, knowing that the lady disapproved of you, together. Not that you ever would be.
“He said the same thing”, his mother admitted. “I’m glad to know he has such a good friend living next door.”
Good friend. It hurt just a little more, to hear the woman calling you that, even if you had been trying to convince yourself about it for a while.
To convince yourself? Your heart stopped in your chest, only to begin again on an erratic beat, one that had you thinking you were going to die on the spot. Of course, you were developing feelings for Jimin.
You were a damn fool.
“Thank you”, you said, eyes getting lost in the space between you and her. You didn’t really know what you were thanking her for, not as the shock of the truth was still ringing through you.
Not when you for once failed at lying to yourself, like you’d been doing for so long.
It had never been about Collin. Had always been about Jimin, and the person that he was. The idol that he was. It had been about the fact that some dirty dark corner of your mind felt… inadequate, in his light. Felt like you were tainting him, with your ordinary self. He deserved someone like him, someone that shone, with purity and kindness and everything in between.
Someone whose smile could lit up the whole room. Someone who always had kind words for the people surrounding them, and who knew how to make light of any situation. Someone that was struggling with their own shadows, but never let them affect those surrounding them.
You weren’t quite sure you could be that person. Were actually quite convinced you weren’t that person at all. That, more than anything, made you realize that maybe, maybe your friendship had always been meant to end, in one way or another. And perhaps, perhaps it was better to put a stop to it before you went too far.
Why, then, did it feel like you had gone too far already?
Because, you told yourself. Because he kissed me, and I kissed him back, and he’s all I’ve been able to think about since then.
You had been wrong, for telling him that the kiss hadn’t meant anything. It had meant the whole world to you, had shown you a mosaic of you you had cherished, for those few seconds before you had shattered it. You had been the one to pull away, and to declare it to be a mistake.
Maybe, in some parallel universe, you wouldn’t have, and you’d be together now. It was a different mosaic, one you felt as if you were looking at through some tainted glass, but maybe you had made a mistake. Knowing Jimin, he had probably decided not to mention anything to respect your decision.
To not make you feel more uncomfortable than he had clearly believed you had been. It was stupid, really, because you hadn’t been uncomfortable, kissing him.
You had felt like you were coming home after a long day of work, to the coziness of the arms of the person you were meant to love.
A pretty girl and her boyfriend.
***
              Three raps, on his door.
Knock knock knock.
You had gone straight to his place, after coming home from Busan. It had been strange, to ride that car alone without him, especially as he had been the one to drive you to the city where he had grown up. He had been all you had been able to think about, for the hours between the two cities.
You were anxious, standing there in front of his place. Like you didn’t belong there, even if you had been in that exact spot many times before. It brought you back to that first time you had been there, struggling to get in thinking that it was your own home.
It took you a long time, standing there, to realize that he wasn’t going to open. So long your eyes fell down to the floor, and trailed to the place where you had cleaned his vomit, months ago.
A whole world ago.
You wished you could go back to that moment. Well, not exactly to the moment you’d been cleaning up after him, but to the days that had followed. You were pretty sure that, more than anything, had been the spark of your friendship. Otherwise, you doubted Jimin would have chosen to take care of you, that night you had stumbled in his home. God knew you would have never become friends if you hadn’t.
It took you an even longer time to give up standing there. To blink away the tears that had slowly brimmed your gaze, and to head home. Accepting your defeat.
It took you a few more days, to realize Jimin was gone. Had probably not even gone back to his place once, crashing at one of his friends’ instead. You could have texted Hoseok, to ask, but you chose not to.
As you had chosen to never contact Collin again, after he had called to tell you about Harper.
In those few days, that shone with Jimin’s absence, you found the children at work to be just a little harder to deal with, just a little harder to talk to. You found that the end of your days was just a little harsher to live through, especially as you rode that elevator where you had first met him. That felt so empty now that he was gone, though that stain on the carpet hadn’t moved. As if to say the world hadn’t changed, at all.
As if to say you were the only thing that had changed in this universe. You didn’t know if it was reassuring, or if it was making you feel worse. All you knew was that your nights were haunted with images of him, even though your days were empty with his reality.
It was like he had turned into a ghost.
“You should come with us”, Chaeyoung said from the doorframe of your class, startling you out of your thoughts.
She had invited you to hang out in Hongdae, along with her girlfriend and some of her other friends, later that night. You hadn’t decided if you were going to go yet, as if doing an activity other than work felt wrong.
Some part of you knew that it was because you were afraid to not be home when Jimin was going to come. Because you were convinced he’d come back. If there was one thing you knew about him, it was that no matter what, he’d always find his way to you.
Like that first moment you had stepped in the same elevator as him, and like the many times you had run into each other after that. He was bound to come home at some point, and you didn’t want to risk being away.
But it had been a few days, and he hadn’t come home. Or if he had, you had been at work, and you had missed him. Which you refused to believe had happened, because you refused to believe he was truly gone from your life.
Yet you hadn’t been able to text him, no matter how many times you had started writing him a text. You had written enough texts you could probably compose a poem with them all, but your story didn’t feel like poetry.
It rather felt like some broken pieces of ceramic, that could have been arranged into that mosaic you had glanced at, for a time, as you had kissed. Pieces of ceramic that had been lost in those few days of him being a ghost.
“I need to go home, but I can meet you there later?” you finally replied, glancing at your friend.
You hated the concerned look on Chaeyoung’s features, but you forced yourself to smile, trying to reassure the girl. Trying to convince her that everything was alright.
“As long as you don’t bail…” Chaeyoung trailed off, walking in to help you pick up the few toys that were still scattered around the floor. “I don’t know what happened, Y/n, but you look exhausted.”
You sighed. There was no way you’d be able to convince Chaeyoung you were fine.
“I am. I’ve been for a few days.”
“What happened?” the girl quickly asked, and the concern on her features doubled up.
You sighed, standing up from the place where you had been kneeling. You glanced around the room, trying to find the courage to speak the words that had been haunting you, but you couldn’t find it.
“I haven’t been sleeping well”, you instead chose to say.
Chaeyoung had a no-bullshit look on her face once you finally met her gaze. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t insist, instead shrugging her shoulders and offering you a reassuring smile.
“Well, if you think that getting out of the house for a time would help, I’d be happy to do something more laid back than walking around Hongdae.”
“Don’t cancel your plans for me”, you said, shaking your head as your eyes widened a little.
The last thing you wanted was for more people to be aware that you weren’t doing fine.
“My friends wouldn’t mind, they like you”, Chaeyoung replied, shrugging her shoulders again. “But if you feel like staying home, that is okay too.”
You pursed your lips, nodding slightly. “Thanks, Chaeyoung.” And you really were thankful, because you weren’t quite sure you’d be able to go out.
Were willing to try to get ready, but wanted to be able to bail if you needed to.
Even as you were getting ready, two hours later, sitting in front of the large mirror of your vanity, you still weren’t sure you were going to go. Putting some make-up on felt good, though, as it permitted you to focus on something other than the treacherous thoughts that always led back to Jimin.
To the whole world that was between you now, not because of who you were, but because it felt like the distance between you wasn’t one that could be crossed.
You had just finished applying blush to your cheeks when your doorbell rang, and you froze. Because you knew, then, that the distance had finally become smaller. Still big enough for your heart to ache, but at least the wait was over.
Because, who else would it be but Jimin? Only Chaeyoung knew where you lived, and the girl was currently at a restaurant with her girlfriend and her other friends.
You almost dropped the brush you were holding as you put it down, hands starting to shake as you pushed up to your feet. You left your phone face down on the vanity, before jogging to the door. Hating that you had chosen the room the farthest from your door for your dressing room.
It felt like an eternity, before you reached that door, and you were a little breathless when you threw it open.
Jimin stood there, hands buried in the pockets of his coat, hair a little tousled, as if he’d just tried to tame it, but failed to do so. He was wearing earrings, as he most always did, and the light caught on the silver of them as he looked up to meet your gaze. He too had dark circles under his eyes, ones that you had just hidden on your own face.
“Jimin”, you breathed.
His eyes were still haunted by those shadows, and they went a little wide as you held his gaze.
“Y/n.”
He said your name with a softness that made you feel weak all of a sudden, and you were pretty sure tears were welling up in your eyes.
“You’re an idiot”, you said, and you let out a small chuckle. “Where have you been?”
He swallowed, his Adam apple bobbing up and down.
“I needed time to think”, he replied.
You fell silent, as he looked at a spot over your shoulder, before letting his gaze drop to the floor. It took him a moment before meeting your eyes again, and you felt like dying at the sight of the dark clouds in his gaze.
“I… figured”, you murmured, gulping. “That’s why I didn’t text you.”
“Can I come in?” 
You nodded, stepping aside. He walked in, and you breathed in the smell of his cologne before gently closing the door behind him.
“I was… getting ready”, you told him, feeling suddenly very awkward.
At least you had successfully blinked the tears away.
“We can sit in my dressing room?”
Jimin nodded, though he hadn’t met your gaze since he had stepped into your home. He followed you, silent as a mute, and sat in front of the second vanity in the room.
The one in front of which Chaeyoung had gotten ready, all those months ago, the night you had gone clubbing. The night you had stumbled into Jimin’s apartment as if it was your own. The night that had started it all, come to think of it.
“Where are you going?” Jimin asked as you sat back where you had been a moment earlier.
Not feeling like lying, you let the truth come out. “Nowhere.” You paused, as a puzzled expression took over his features. “Now that you’re here”, you specified, and his lips spread into a thin line.
It looked like anything but a smile.
“You can still go, if you want”, he said, before chewing on the dry skin of his bottom lip.
You shook your head no. “I’ve missed you, Jimin. I’d rather stay with you.”
He looked so sad, as you spoke the words. And then it hit you, that he maybe didn’t want to be with you.
Maybe he was there to end your relationship, once and for all.
“I…” he fell silent, his eyes falling to the scattered brushes and make-up items on the vanity. “I missed you too.”
There were some tears in your eyes again, damn you.
“Where were you?” you breathed, eyes not moving from his features.
Engraving them in your memory, and in the mosaic of you.
“I’ve been staying with Hobi-hyung”, he admitted. “I’ve been thinking, about us.”
You audibly gulped this time.
“So have I”, you whispered, and he met your gaze.
“I don’t think we’re good, Y/n”, he declared, after a short silence that lasted for an eternity.
It broke your heart, and you found you couldn’t fight the tears now.
“Oh…”
He just watched you, for a time, as a few tears escaped your eyes.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, as if the sight of those tears on your cheeks was so foreign to him, as if they were a concept he had never understood in school.
“I talked to your mother, before leaving Busan”, you told him.
He remained silent, eyes never leaving yours.
“Why didn’t you tell me you saw me too, the day you met Collin?”
He didn’t move, for a time. Even looked as if he had stopped breathing. But then he let out a small broken sound – a chuckle, maybe.
“Because you would have thought me to be crazy.”
You dried your tears with the back of your hand. “Why would I have?”
He chuckled again, and this time it sounded a little realer. His eyes took on a distant expression, as he focused on the memories of that moment months ago. “Because you were standing with your back to me, in the kitchen. I was in the hallway, and all I could see was your hair. And then you turned to look at your boyfriend, and when I saw your face, I was just struck dumb.”
You didn’t even know when that had happened. Hadn’t seen him at all, standing there. And you were the one to be struck dumb now, at his confession. At the way his words echoed in your head until you felt drunk with them.
“I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and then you smiled at him and I assumed you were taken”, he continued. His eyes had met yours again, and you could see the truth they were shining with. “I felt strange, for a moment, and then Collin turned. He saw me, and he walked to the door, and shut it.”
A pretty girl and her boyfriend.
You remembered that. You had asked why Collin had shut the door, and he had just walked to you and kissed your forehead, before telling you to focus on what the realtor was saying.
“So, I went home”, he added. “And then when I saw you in the elevator, that day you were moving in, I assumed Collin was around. I felt awkward, because I thought he hated me.”
So, that was what it had been. It had never been about the Chimmy keychain or the mess of BTS albums, like you had believed at first. He had just thought you belonged to someone and hadn’t wanted to intrude in your relationship.
“And then I just felt uncomfortable around you, and I was a dick to you and I’m sorry I was. But when you tried getting into my apartment, and you told me what had happened, I just…”
He shrugged, and you only then noticed the silver brimming his gaze.
“I didn’t want to let you go, I guess. And you were fun to be with, so I tried to keep you around.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, as tears rolled freely down your face. He looked at them, before meeting your gaze again.
“I don’t know when I fell in love with you”, he continued, and tears moved on his cheeks too. “I think I’ve always known I’d fall for you, and then one day I realized the feelings were already there. I knew you had recently come out of a relationship, so I didn’t say anything. But that night, I just lost it… Seeing you chat with Sungwoon, seeing him flirt with you, I just hated it.”
Sungwoon had been flirting with you? It hit you then: it was jealousy, that had made Jimin act the way that he had, those few weeks ago.
“And when we kissed, and you left, I thought ‘that is it, your friendship with her is over’”, he admitted, chuckling sadly again. “So, I decided to pretend nothing had happened, and when you did the same thing, I assumed we’d just never talk about it again, and I’d do everything I could to prevent it from happening again.”
You really had been fools.
“Eoma told me she could see the love in my eyes, while we were cooking, and that I was making a mistake, to fall in love with you.”
Your heart squeezed in your chest, and you choked on a sob.
“And maybe I should have told her then”, he added, getting up from his spot to come closer to you, grabbing your hands. “I’ve sacrificed so much to be where I am. I’ve sacrificed friendships and relationships and my own health.” He paused, as if he didn’t want you to be associated with all those shadows in his life. And you were glad he had, because his next words destroyed everything in you, only to build it anew. “I’m not willing to sacrifice you too.”
You got up, letting out a small sad laugh as Jimin smiled.
“I am in love with you, Y/n”, he breathed. “And I want to be with you.”
You blinked away a fresh wave of tears, and he let go of one of your hands, to wipe the tears from your face.
“I thought you were coming here to tell me we were done”, you admitted, and another tear rolled down his cheek.
He chuckled. “I thought so too. But you had to start crying and make me weak.”
His eyes were full of emotions you couldn’t quite interpret, yet you knew they echoed those in your own heart.
“I’ve been weak for you for so long”, you whispered, as you leaned in the hand he had kept against your face.
He laughed, just a little, as you reached to dry his cheek from the lone tear.
“I’ve been weak for you before I even met you.”
He laughed again, and the sound was healing, really.
“You were my bias, you know?” you let out. “But then when I met you, I started hating you, because I thought you were an entitled prick.”
He pursed his lips, holding in a smile.
“And then you took care of me that night, and you were just so friendly I thought you were a completely different person.”
You smiled softly at the memory, and at the warmth that it raised in you.
“You started talking to me, more, and you were so friendly and bubbly. I felt like I was in heaven, for a moment, and you helped me through the grief of Collin, and of him and his new family.”
You thought about it for a time, eyes falling to his neck as you lost your focus on his features.
“I think I saw you like my own little family, for a long time, because you were filling a hole in my chest. And then you started being more, and I started looking for you in every room I was in.”
Maybe you had already been in love with him, then.
“And when we kissed, I felt like it was meant to be”, you said. “Like you were the one I was meant to find. And I guess guilt crept in, about Collin, and I know it’s stupid, but I felt guilty, and I left.”
And it was true. Your thoughts hadn’t gone to Collin, but your body hadn’t recognized Jimin to be the body it was used to, back then, and it had made panic kick in.
“I regret leaving then”, you admitted. “I wish I hadn’t, and I wish I had stayed with you.”
You breathed in and out shakily, as the truth kept flowing out of your mouth.
“I want to be with you too. I’m afraid, because you are you and I am me and there is so many worlds between us.”
He grabbed your face then, ever so gently. Eyes gazing into yours with so much love and adoration you felt as if you could die right then, and die happy.
“I don’t care about any worlds between us”, he whispered. “I just want you.”
“I’ve fallen in love with you, Jimin”, you breathed, and he pressed his lips against yours.
It was terribly soft, that first kiss after the one weeks ago. Like he was scared to make you run again, and he just wanted to get a last taste of you. Without hurting you, like the way one graze their fingers against a flower. Ever so gently, lest the petals be spoiled.
But you weren’t a flower, and you didn’t want to be treated as such. Wanted the desperation that you had been drowning in for the last few days to finally flow out of you. So, you put the feelings in the kiss, letting your lips mesh with his harder, and he breathed out, his hands falling to your waist, pulling you closer.
He tasted salty, from the tears that had been rolling on his cheeks. He tasted of honey, too, a sweet taste that you knew you’d come to love more than anything. And his hands on your waist were warm, hot, and they pulled you ever so closer, until all of your body was pressed against all of his.
You snaked your hands between you, moving to unbutton his coat. He helped you, pulling away for half a second, just enough time to let the coat fall to the floor.
When his lips crashed on yours again, the rhythm of the kiss changed, becoming frantic, as if the desperation had hit him too, and he needed to feel you.
A breathy sound fell from your lips as his tongue met yours, and he made you turn your back towards the wall, pushing you back until your ass hit the vanity. He pulled you up on top of it, and you spread your legs to make space for him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him back into the kiss.
It was heated, that kiss, so heated you thought you were about to burst into flames. Into flames and fireworks and softness, as if it was more the afterglow than the explosion. And it felt like that – like that feeling of awe fireworks leave in one’s heart.
As he kissed you, hands roaming along your thighs, along your waist, you found yourself seeing that mosaic again. The one you had thought you were seeing through tainted glass. Only this time, the mosaic took form in your universe, a sight so beautiful your soul felt full, like it was incomplete until you an Jimin had finally chosen each other. It was beautiful, really, with reds and oranges and purples, along with the blues and lilacs and yellows your friendship had consisted of.
It was so much more than whatever you had had with Collin. Collin had been in your life for a long time, yes, but your soul had never been his, the way that it was Jimin’s.
Jimin moved from your lips to your neck, as you were still clutching his collar. You let it go, fingers moving to run through his hair, pulling at it. He bit your neck, then, gently, but hard enough to elicit a soft moan from your mouth.
He went crazy at the sound. Hands moving underneath your shirt, caressing the skin of your waist, before moving up to your breasts. Heat pooled between your legs as he grinded into you, and you could feel his own arousal against you, the friction making you see stars.
You hadn’t had sex in a long time and perhaps that, more than the feeling of him against you, had you pull away slightly.
“Jimin”, you breathed.
He looked up from your neck, eyes glassy with lust, lips glossy and red and swollen from your ministrations. He seemed slightly scared for a time, until you grabbed his face and pecked his lips once.
That seemed to reassure him, and a soft smile lit up his features.
“Y/n”, he breathed, too, and you felt your heart swell in your chest, with the feelings that you had for him.
“I…” you trailed off, looking between his two eyes. Gazing at the love that was warming them, taking it in and making it yours.
He was yours, and you were his.
“Can we take our time?” you asked, gently. “I haven’t…”
His eyes widened slightly, and he made to pull away, though you kept him from getting too far by wrapping your legs around his waist.
“You’re a virgin?” he asked.
Laughter burst out of you. “What?”
He wasn’t smiling, and he just looked confused.
He was truly adorable.
“I just haven’t had sex in a long time”, you admitted.
And it was true. Even before you and Collin had broken up, you hadn’t really gotten physical. Since…
You didn’t let your heart ache, as you realized he hadn’t really gotten intimate with you again, after October. After he had cheated with Harper.
“Are you okay?” Jimin asked, concern moving in his gaze.
He must have been able to read the feelings on your face.
You nodded. “I am.” You paused, glancing down at his mouth. “Please kiss me again.”
His tongue darted out, to wet his lips. “I won’t be able to go slow, if you tell me stuff like that.”
You didn’t know where your confidence came from, but you let a smirk grow on your lips. “Oh, Jimin-ie… We have all night in front of us, you better take your time.”
A smirk grew on his own lips, as his eyes grew ten times darker. But still they shone from within, with a light you hoped would never leave. “You’re lucky I’ve got a great stamina.”
You snorted, and then blushed as embarrassment raised in your chest at how awkward the sound had been. Until Jimin pecked your nose, the flirtatiousness melting into soft warmth.
“You are so cute”, he breathed against your lips, before kissing you again.
The gentleness of the action made you blush even more, though you fled from the feeling behind it, biting at his lips.
He was goddamn Park Jimin, and you were just you.
The insecurity that it brought to you menaced to shatter the mosaic again, but he chased it away as he kissed you, with more heat than you thought you could handle, until your body caved in to his touch. It was easy then, to let your thoughts dissolve into nothingness, especially as he grinded into you again, and the length of his erection brushed against your clit.
You moaned, a full noise that sounded far too obscene. He swallowed it, his tongue diving in your mouth to meet yours, establishing a rhythm that promised to be a sweet treat to your body.
Your hands pulled at the hem of his shirt, even as you didn’t remember having slid them underneath it, needing to feel the warmth of his skin. He pulled away from the kiss, to take off the piece of clothing, and it met his coat on the floor as your eyes fell to his ‘Never mind’ tattoo. Your fingers gently ran over it, and your heart beat quicker in your chest.
You had never thought you’d be touching his tattoos so intimately one day. Would have called crazy whoever would have said that you were meant to be there, in that mosaic of you.
Your phone chose that moment to start buzzing next to you, startling you. Both your gazes fell to the device, and you stayed still for a time. Until you grabbed the phone, breathing raggedly as you noticed that it was Chaeyoung. You didn’t feel like picking up the call, so you sent your friend to voicemail.
“Let me just text her”, you mumbled, as Jimin’s gaze burned on your face.
He nodded, his hands remaining on your waist as you unlocked your phone, and informed Chaeyoung that you were busy with Jimin, and that you wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.
It was worth the shit-eating smirk that was on Jimin’s lips when you looked up.
“Busy, mmh?” he said, gaze heavy with lust and desire as he looked down at the little space between you.
You nodded, feeling a wave of confidence again. “Maybe we should actually get to work though.” You bit your lip, looking at Jimin through your eyelashes, in a way that you hoped was attractive.
It made you feel awkward, though it seemed to work on Jimin, because he swiftly pulled your shirt off, and you hoped he couldn’t tell the blush on your cheeks was from being embarrassed. Luckily enough for you, his eyes had dropped to your chest, and at the black lacy bralette you were wearing.
“Fuck”, he breathed out. He looked up, meeting your gaze. “You’re so beautiful.”
Now, you felt very shy. Too shy to have him looking at you still, so you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss again. He kissed you sweetly, with his pretty swollen lips, grinding into you for one last time before he stepped back.
“Now, let’s get you out of these pants.”
You gulped, nodding yes because you were pretty sure your voice would have failed you. Jimin unbuttoned your pants, though he didn’t make to pull them down your legs yet. Instead, he let his hand move between your legs, fingers grazing at you through the fabric.
“You’re so hot”, he said, breathing hard.
You whined, as he pressed on your clit, skilled fingers finding it right away.
He smirked, then, male pride evident in his gaze at the sounds he was already coaxing out of you, before pulling your pants down your legs. He gazed at your clothed pussy, only your black panties separating you from his hungry eyes, and you wondered if he could already see the wetness pooling there.
You doubted you had ever been wet like that before, and you had barely even started.
Before moving closer to you again, Jimin unbuckled his belt, eyes boring through yours with an intensity you had never seen in their depths. It made the hotness between your legs burn achily.
His jeans fell to the ground, though he kept his underwear on. He stepped out of the fabric pooling around his ankles, and then moved back between your legs. You blushed as he grabbed your chin to make you look up.
You had been gazing at the imprint of his hard dick.
“Eyes up here, baby”, he said, smirking, before stealing another kiss, one that led to him pushing his erection against you again.
It felt better, now that less fabric laid between you, though it wasn’t enough. You wanted all of him, lest you’d go crazy. Jimin seemed to understand it, because one of his hands found its way between your legs, and he ran his fingers on your clothed pussy, and on the wetness that was seeping through your panties.
“Fuck, Y/n”, he growled, and really, his voice was so low it sounded animalistic. “You’re so fucking wet already.”
“Please”, you breathed, and he smirked.
Smirked and pulled away, eyes going down to your clothed self again.
“I want to taste you.”
“Do it”, you murmured, as he was already kneeling down.
He didn’t wait, didn’t take his time. He pulled your panties to the side, tongue lapping at your entrance, collecting your juices. You moaned, loudly, and your head threw back as your eyes fell shut. One of your hands moved to your breast, pinching at your erect nipple through the fabric, as Jimin started working on you.
If there was one thing that was true about Jimin, it was that he knew how to use his tongue. Indeed, he skillfully found your clit, pressing small circles on it, and before you could even realize it, he slid a finger inside of you, curling it to find that sweet spot that made you see stars.
You moaned, louder, one of your hands moving to his hair, as he established a quick rhythm that had your legs shaking with sensitivity. Soon enough, he buried another of his fingers inside of you, spreading you wide open, and you clenched your walls against him.
You wanted more, and you couldn’t keep your body from telling him.
He sucked on your clit, moaning against you, and this time your pussy clenched by itself, walls holding him tightly inside.
“Fuck”, he said against you, pulling away just enough to look up at you.
You met his gaze, your own half-lidded eyes lost in the bliss of the pleasure he was giving you, and he smirked, lips shining from your wetness, before diving right back in.
Whatever he had been doing before wasn’t even half of what he could do, because this time, his tongue pressed hard against you, moving quickly, eliciting obscene moans from you, sounds tangled with his name as he inched you closer and closer to your orgasm.
And right when it was about to hit, your walls already pulsing against him, Jimin pulled away, leaving you empty. Empty and aching with the denied orgasm.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to take your time?” he asked, teasingly, once your eyes opened to glare at him.
“Fuck”, was all you could mutter back.
Jimin pressed his lips against yours, and you sucked on his bottom lip, moaning at the taste of yourself that still was lingering on his mouth. His fingers were digging in your hips, the pain a slight warning at the back of your mind.
Though you threw the warning away, because it felt way too damn good. His digits didn’t linger there for long, moving up to rid you of your bralette, and his mouth fell to your breast, sucking on it as you moaned again. He looked up, continuing his ministrations against your erect nipple, and you met his gaze, your pussy clenching around nothing. Maybe Jimin could tell, because his fingers found their way back to your pussy, and soon enough he had taken off your panties, fingers pumping in and out of you so quickly you could feel yourself withering away.
You knew you’d be nothing once the orgasm would hit. So, you grabbed onto him, right as he moved his face up and buried it in your neck. You breathed your pleasure in the shell of his ears as his fingers moved in and out, wet pornographic sounds filling the whole room.
“You’re so fucking wet”, he said again, but you barely were able to register it.
You wanted to say yes, but all that you could let out was a broken sound as your orgasm hit you out of nowhere, leaving you to shake with the waves of pleasure that moved through you.
Jimin worked you through the orgasm, thumb moving against your clit as his fingers curled inside of you, and you blinked back tears to look at him, though his face was hung low, forehead against your shoulder. Once he had milked the last of your orgasm from you, he looked up, meeting your gaze.
He looked a little crazed, as if he was in pain, and you understood why as your hand found its way to his dick, palming him through the fabric of his underwear.
He was so hard it had to be painful.
“I want to taste you too”, you murmured, too fucked out to be embarrassed with your words.
He kissed you, wildly, before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “Later”, he said, and he breathed it out like a promise. “For now I just want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name again.”
You hadn’t been aware you were screaming his name in the first place, but you didn’t have time to say it before he pulled you to your feet, turning you around until he had you bending over the vanity. You watched him take off his underwear in the mirror, your pussy still pulsing a little. Next thing you knew he was burying himself inside of you, so hard your thighs hit the vanity, and you screamed a moan, right as he groaned.
He was bigger than you had expected, and the stretching burned, though he remained still, to give you time to adjust. Or maybe just that had been enough to bring him close to the edge, and he had to refrain from moving otherwise he’d come.
His hands were on your hips, and you risked another look in the mirror, knowing fully well he was already looking at you.
Seeing Park Jimin, right there, impaling you, almost was enough to make you come again.
“Don’t clench around me like that”, he grunted, and he sounded as if he was in pain.
His eyes fell shut, and he started moving inside of you, ever so slowly. Slowly inching out, until he pushed all the way in again. You moaned, and his fingers tightened on your skin, before one of his hands loosened its grip, to gently run against the skin of your back.
“I don’t want to hurt you”, he murmured.
Your words finally found you again. “You’re not hurting me.”
His eyes flashed open at the sound of your voice, and you found you couldn’t hold his gaze. Not when he was fucking into you as slowly as he was.
“How do you like it?” he asked, and he bent over to press a kiss on the back of your shoulder before straightening again.
It made you feel warm inside, a feeling that cut through the lust you were drowning in, only to disappear as he started pounding into you.
“Fast?” he asked, before slowing down. “Or like this?”
When you remained silent, Jimin slapped your ass, and you moaned his name.
“As much as I love hearing you say my name like that, you haven’t answered my question, haven’t you?”
You whimpered as he slapped your ass again. Not enough to hurt, but just enough for your skin to tingle with the sting. “I want you to feel good”, you replied.
He stilled inside of you. “Look at me.”
You hadn’t even realized you had shut your eyes. 
His gaze was soft when you met it. “No matter how we do it, I’ll feel good inside your tight pussy.”
It was crass, how he said the words, and it only turned you on even more.
“Then fuck me, Jimin”, you said, because really you couldn’t look at him any longer.
And so he did, pounding inside of you until he had you seeing stars, a second orgasm threatening to push you over the edge. You kept it in, knowing you’d be too ruined if you came again, especially as you were already turning sore. You wanted him to feel good before you’d let yourself go like that again.
His balls slapped against your clit as he fucked you, a strange music resonating in the room, and you held onto the sides of your vanity as he pushed harder and harder, your tits resting flat against the brushes and make-up items on the furniture. You could barely feel them there, your whole focus solely on the space between your legs, and the way he was moving inside of you, stretching you.
“You feel so good”, he praised you, and you moaned your agreement, which had him chuckling.
It felt so normal, so casual, that your heart swelled in your chest, tears moving in your gaze.
“I love you”, you breathed, unable to stop the words before they had moved out of your mouth.
He stopped pounding into you then, meeting your gaze, his own eyes creasing at the corners with fondness and love. “Y/n…”
You held his gaze for a time, until you found you couldn’t anymore. Your eyes fell shut, and you wondered if it was tears that were filling the space under your lids.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, gently, once again bending to kiss your shoulder.
“You feel so good”, you said, echoing his previous words.
He hadn’t moved from your shoulder when he spoke again. “You look in pain.”
You weren’t in pain, honestly. You were just overwhelmed with your feelings for him, and you were too much of a coward to meet his gaze.
“I am not”, you promised. “Can we move to my room?”
The question felt appropriate, aimed to make him drop his concern. And it worked, as he pulled away, leaving you empty, and he pulled you up, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kissed the side of your neck.
You shivered, tilting your head to the side, allowing him to move up your skin until he was sucking on the spot bellow your ear.
“I love you too”, he murmured against you, before kissing the hickey he had just created on your skin.
Another piece of the mosaic that was yours.
You turned in his arms, then, pressing your lips against his, kissing him until you felt so drunk with him you couldn’t even remember your own name. He picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, lips still pressed against yours.
He took a few unsteady steps towards the exit of the room, before stopping as he chuckled in the kiss. The sound was sweet and innocent even though you were butt-naked and had just been fucking like there was no tomorrow. It made you love him even more, and you wrapped your arms around his neck tighter to hold him close to you.
You never wanted to be away from him again.
He pulled away from your lips, to look over your shoulder. “As much as I love kissing you, I’ll have to look where I’m going or we’ll both end up on the floor.”
You laughed then, an airy sound that didn’t even seem like it belonged to you. As he walked, you pressed your lips against the spot where his neck met his shoulder, his earring tickling your face as you sucked on the skin, giving him a hickey in return for the one he had just put on your own skin.
He hissed, hands tightening their grip on your ass, as he finally reached your room. He carried you to your bed, putting you down before straightening. You looked up at him, then, eyes full of love and desire. He grabbed your cheeks, thumbs brushing against your skin gently, before bending down to press a sweet kiss on your lips.
“Why don’t you make place for me, mmh?” he asked against your lips, before straightening and motioning to the pillows on the other side of the bed.
You obeyed, and soon enough Jimin was hovering over you, one hand holding him up as he kneeled between your legs, his erection resting against your pelvis.
“You are so beautiful”, he murmured again, and it sounded like a prayer, like you were the god to his religion.
It made you feel shy again, and your eyes shut, instinctively.
He brushed your cheek with his knuckles, ever so gently, coaxing you to open your eyes. Only you didn’t, your insecurity meeting you full force.
How could you be having sex with Park Jimin? You were no one and…
“Look at me, Y/n”, he said, murmuring the words against your lips.
He was so close you could feel his mouth moving against yours.
“You’re intimidating to look at”, you replied, truthfully.
That made him move away, far enough for his breath to be a ghost on your skin, barely even warm from the distance.
“What?” he let out.
“Why me?” you asked, then, as you truly wondered. It was hard to believe someone like Jimin wanted to be with someone like you.
“Y/n…” he breathed, and he pecked your forehead, a sweet act that was purely done out of his love for you.
A pretty girl and her boyfriend.
“Because to me, you’re the prettiest girl in the world. The only one I see, the only one I want, and the one I want to spend my life with.” He pecked your nose then, before pulling away again. “You’re the one I am in love with, and no girl will ever compare to you.” He pecked your lips. “No one can ever compare to you.”
You are the mosaic of my soul. 
It was the confirmation that you had needed, and your insecurity slowly dwindled away, replaced by the warmth he brought to your heart.
You made love then, gaze lost in each other’s, in the stars Jimin’s eyes held and the love you shared. The shadows had long left Jimin’s gaze, and they were shining, glowing with pure love and happiness, and desire. So much desire you truly felt like the prettiest girl in the world. 
You hoped his shadows and clouds would never come back. Promised yourself you wouldn’t let them come back, whatever it took.
Jimin moved slowly, inside of you, until you reached another orgasm, one that took its origin in that pure feeling you shared, an orgasm that had him toppling over the edge too, spilling inside of you.
And he stayed there, for a long time, gazing into your eyes. He had long gone soft when he pulled out, his seed spilling from you. He stayed close, pressing soft kisses on your cheeks and lips, until you were giggling and blushing.
“You are adorable”, he said, and you moved your hands to his ribs… tickling him.
He yelped, pulling away from you. “Traitor”, he said, between two laughs.
It made you laugh a little more, as he sat on the side of your bed.
It was a strange sight to see. A naked Park Jimin, in your bedroom. In the place where no one but you had ever been before. The place where no one but you two would be from now on.
You turned, lying on your belly, as you looked up at him. His eyes trailed on your body appreciatingly, landing on your ass.
“I knew you had a nice ass but, fuck, the real sight is much better than what I had anticipated”, he said, teasingly, before slapping your ass for emphasis and getting up.
“Hey!” you let out, laughing as he took a single step away, and your eyes fell to his own ass. “You’re one to talk, with the dump truck you’re carrying around.”
Jimin spun around, eyes wide as he met your gaze. You burst out laughing at the same time, and you felt warm and happy and complete.
There was no more beautiful feeling in this world.
“Come, let’s get cleaned up”, he said, offering you a hand to help you stand up.
Grabbing his extended hand felt like a promise. It felt like you had just finished making the mosaic of you, and you were finally ready to gaze at the whole piece of art.
It was a promise, that you’d be together, from now on until the end.
I want to be with you.
Jimin’s words echoed in your mind.
I want to be with you too.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
AAAH. Thank you for reading me. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed building the story for these two. It was fun, though the beginning was excruciating to write. Hopefully it didn’t feel like that to read it!!
Let me know what you thought of the fic! Feedback is always appreciated, and a good source of motivation for writing more stories like that ;). I might also start a taglist so let me know if you want to be added to that!
Anyways, love you lots, thank you again for reading me <3
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eoieopda · 8 months
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menace (pjm) — pt. vi
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Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 6/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Genre: Smut + Fluff Rating: M (18+) Word Count: 6k+ Summary: This Valentine’s Day looks a lot different than the last one. AUs: Older brother’s best friend, fuck buddies that hate(d) each other CW: Reader is AFAB & queer, Jimin is so soft omg, ✨vulnerability✨, so much kissing wtf who am i?, nipple play, fingering (v), unprotected sex (p in v), DID I SAY SOFTNESS? A/N: Thank youuuuuu to everyone that stuck with me and these two idiots until the very end 💕 If you get lonely now that this is over, check out the rest of my masterlist. ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.
It was odd, starting over with someone you’d known longer than nearly everyone else in your life. Jimin wasn’t a stranger by any means; he’d always been present, life running parallel to yours, but you’d never truly seen him up close. 
Not accurately, anyway.
When you were younger, the pedestal you put him on kept the sun in your eyes. You’d have to squint to see his shortcomings, but you never did. Maybe that was one of yours, willful blindness. As far as you knew then — or, rather, as far as you bothered to look — Jimin had none. All he had was a bright, white light.
After that pedestal crumbled and Icarus took a swan-dive to the sub-basement of your expectations, the shadows down there warped the flaws you finally recognized. A trick of the light, they exaggerated every shitty thing you thought you saw and made them all worse. Scarier, even. Worth hating.
Once you finally allowed him to exist on equal footing, you realized that Jimin wasn’t made to be viewed in such high contrast. He wasn’t the monochromatic figure you’d mythologized, not two-dimensional. In reality, he was a prism refracting a thousand different, complicated colors that you hadn’t been giving him due credit for.
The first shade you discovered was the one that broke your brain the most.  Jimin — the only person you knew that never responded to anyone’s calls or texts — wasn’t actually as solitary as he seemed. Really, the only thing he hated more than being by himself was having to admit that fact to anyone, especially you. 
So, instead of calling to invite you along on his errand runs, he started showing up at your door to ask, “You’re not busy right now, are you?”
And just like that, without meaning to, you learned his routine. Another shade.
Every other Sunday, you’d wake up a little earlier than usual. No matter how tired or hungover you were, you would crawl out of your bed, into your well-functioning shower, and make yourself presentable. Then, when you no longer looked like a hobgoblin, you’d sit on your couch with your tea.
None of it was a conscious decision — waiting in the nearest seat to your front door, angling yourself so you could keep an eye on the driveway — at least, not at first. In fact, you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your newly-acquired therapist pointed it out.
“It sounds like you’re making space in your life for him, brick by brick.”
You laughed it off when she said it, but as weeks flew by, you finally had to concede that she was right. She was right about something else, too: you hadn’t been viewing yourself fairly, either. 
“Cellophane can be iridescent, too, if you hold it right.”
Whatever shades of your own that you uncovered, you gradually learned to let Jimin see, too. He picked up on all of your intricacies much faster than you did — because of course he did — and unlike you, he didn’t stumble upon revelations by surprise. He didn’t muddle through your less-pretty shades by trial and error, like you did. To the contrary, he had an unexpected knack for anticipating your reactions, and he planned accordingly.
Everything he did was purposeful, from his choice of words to his actions. Like exhuming his phone from his pocket — “only because it’s you” — to let you know if he was running late to plans you’d made. It was rare that he didn’t show up on time, but whenever he couldn’t, he’d call to promise that he really was on his way. And he always was, no matter how shitty the weather was, or how much he might’ve wanted an extra hour of sleep.
Jimin and all his shades showed up for you.
On Christmas, when Seokjin’s part-time girlfriend threw a dinner party without knowing what the fuck she’d signed up for. You were three-quarters through a bottle of wine before you were pulled in to take over meal preparations with Seokjin; and although Jimin was mostly useless in front of a stove, he was good at fetching whatever you’d need next without you having to point to it. He was even better at keeping your respective glasses full, which felt even more important. Washing dishes after the fact wasn’t all that bad with him there, also drunk off his face, drying them.
On New Years’ Eve, when Jimin was too sick to join the bar crawl but still set an alarm to wake up and call you — right at midnight. You stepped out onto a snow-slicked sidewalk in order to hear him, disappointing the hell out of the girl whose lips wanted to kiss you into the new year. You ignored her pout, ignored the chill in the air, and focused on the way Jimin’s raspy voice had dropped an octave. He was asleep when you swung by shortly after with a box of tissues and a bottle of decongestants, but that didn’t matter; his spare key wasn’t well hidden, either.
And again — now — on Valentine’s Day, when you both decided to blow off Seokjin’s deranged, annual Parent Trap scenario.
Sprawled out on his couch like you owned the place, you scrolled idly through Netflix’s home page with your face scrunched. The hand not holding the remote dipped down into the bag of kkokalcorn chips resting on your chest.
“You’ve got an identity crisis in your watch history, Jimin,” you yelled out to him, hoping he’d hear your teasing clearly from where he stood in his kitchen. “I’m having trouble believing that you’re not actually a middle-aged white woman.”
At this, he stopped rummaging through his refrigerator and stood straight up to glare at you. His eyes and mouth all flattened into matching, straight lines.
You rattled off your findings, nudging him further. “The Notebook, Sleepless in Seattle —”
With every title you dropped, so did one of Jimin’s heavy footfalls. He was halfway to you, scowl growing, in the blink of an eye.
“10 Things I Hate About You?” You snorted. “Little too on the nose, don’t you think?”
Standing at the other side of his coffee table, he parked his hands on his hips and scoffed. “My choices are being criticized by an entire adult with corn-chip witch fingers? Are you kidding?”
Sheepishly, you pulled your hand from the kkokalcorn bag. He was correct; you had stuck your fingertips in the openings of the funnel-shaped chips. You wiggled them at him with a coy smile that made him roll his eyes. Satisfied, your mouth claimed the chip perched on the tip of your index finger.
If you didn’t know better, you’d say that the flash in his eyes just then was fondness.
You held the bag out to him, careful not to disrupt the rest of your manicure, and smiled to yourself when he accepted your offer. He tilted the bag and dumped a few of the chips into his open palm. With a small smile, he mused, “Haven’t had these since we were kids.”
That wave of nostalgia must have caught him in a riptide because he went quiet in a way that made you pause. You were about to speak up — to say what, you weren’t sure — but you promptly shut your mouth. Index and middle fingers now extended, he held out his hand to make a peace sign. Each fingertip had a small cone sitting crooked on top.
Jimin laughed unexpectedly, which almost made his already-crinkled eyes disappear completely. “Kinda look like little wizards.”
If you didn’t know better, you’d say that the thumping in your chest just then was fondness.
After shaking your head to clear those thoughts, you realized that the little wizards weren’t holding the glass of hard cider he’d gone to his kitchen to refill. You pushed yourself to your feet with one hand and a playfully exaggerated groan, popping the remaining chips from your fingers into your mouth at once.
“Leaving already?”
He should’ve known better than to ask you a question while your mouth was full, but he didn’t. The explanation he received was therefore unintelligible. Head cocked curiously to the side, lips slightly parted, he tried to connect the dots. Just as soon as he started, he gave up and trailed after you.
Jimin didn’t stop until you did, right in front of his refrigerator. He was so close, in fact, that you accidentally hit him with the door as you pulled it open.
“Oh, shit!” You muttered, shutting the door again quickly.
Wincing, your gaze flitted over to assess the damage you’d done to the outside of his bicep with the metal corner of the door. On instinct, you reached out to run the pads of your fingers over the faint red mark blooming there. Goosebumps spread in the wake of your touch, but you didn’t feel that same phantom chill. Just something electric that sparked against your fingertips.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He said gently. “I don’t bruise like you do.”
In the moment of silence that followed, you felt compelled to lift your eyes but not your hand. Unless you were imagining things, he leaned into your touch, just slightly. Not enough to see, but enough to feel.
It’d crossed your mind a thousand times since you walked through his front door. With that throwaway statement, Jimin confirmed he’d been thinking about it, too — about who you both were on this date last year. About the way you’d only ever let him treat you roughly because anything sweeter threatened the distance you were trying to keep. About the bruises given with no chance to kiss them better.
You weren’t that person anymore, and neither was he.
“Jimin,” you started.
It was the farthest along in your sentence that your voice would let you go. 
After the million baby steps you’d taken in his direction and the healing you’d allow yourself to do, you were still scared to show your cards. Now, you’d seen him in technicolor. Now, if you fucked things up, you’d never be able to go back to black and white.
What if you fuck things up again?
Jimin sensed your hesitation, but he didn’t accept it. Instead, he closed the distance so slowly that your hand wasn’t disrupted from where it rested on his bicep. His hands found you just as easily. One made its home at the small of your back while the other cupped the side of your face. 
With a whisper lighter than air, he asked, “If I kiss you, will you let me?”
His eyes flitted from yours, to your lips, then back again.
“Or will you kamikaze dive into my kitchen table?”
Your reply was even softer than the question posed. “Only one way to find out.”
If the uptick at the corner of his lips told you anything, it was that he intended to.
Cautiously, as if sudden moves would startle you, he pulled your body flush against his. His other hand tilted your face upwards, thumb gently tucked under your chin while the rest of his fingers rested in the space just below your ear. His touch kept your body present even when the sensation of his kiss threatened to sweep your feet out from underneath you.
Plush pink and delicate, his lips molded to yours like they were specially designed to do just that. Like cracks giving way to let the light in, you opened yourself up for him. Licked into his mouth, eager to learn the parts of him you’d missed in all the time you’d shut him out.
And if you listened — really listened, over the moan he swallowed from you — you could’ve sworn you heard all the silly pages of your childhood diary flipping furiously. Scribbled to hell and back with a glitter gel pen, each one noting that this is what you wanted, this is what you wanted, this is everything you wanted.
The eternity in that kiss wasn’t long enough. Eventually, he broke the contact, pulling a disagreeing gasp from you when he pulled away. Your lips buzzed from the sudden loss of pressure — that, or they trembled without the warmth of his mouth. Either way, he was gone too soon. 
The hand you had resting against his bicep slipped down to the center of his chest to tug at the fabric of his t-shirt. Unable to nip that growing neediness in the bud, you frowned. 
“Jimin,” you sighed. You had nothing to follow-up with. His name was the totality of that thought.
Several moments of silence came next. His brow furrowed, like he was trying and failing to find something less vulnerable to say. He couldn’t. When it slipped out, his eyes searched your face for a reaction.
“I want to be soft with you.”
Any time you’d been together before, it was carnal, dripping with unarticulated hurt. He didn’t want that, not this time. You didn’t have to guess why.
Though the level of desperation you both felt now was familiar, the underscore had changed. Jimin wanted to touch you carefully because he felt fragile — so did you. If either of you moved too quickly, too roughly, you ran the risk of upending the balance you’d found. Like you, Jimin seemed to know that this was delicate.
You lifted your hand from his shirt and placed it on top of his where it sat above your jaw. Gently, your fingers wrapped around his and lowered them so you could intertwine them properly. Then, without a word and without letting go, you led him out of the kitchen into the small hallway.
This was the first time you’d crossed his house without sprinting and violently shedding your clothes as you went. It felt like you were seeing it all for the first time because, in a way, you were. 
You’d never noticed the framed photos lining the walls of the hallway, or the subtle notes of grey in the white paint behind them. In all the time you’d spent there before, it’d never clicked that this house was a home. Everywhere, there were hints of him — his interests, his achievements, the friends you’d never met — sitting so blatantly in places you’d previously ignored. 
Jimin apologized when you stepped over the threshold into his bedroom. “My plan was to clean it tomorrow.”
He smiled sheepishly as his free hand carded through the hair at the base of his neck.
“Doesn’t do you any good today, though.”
“I don’t mind,” you hummed in reply, shutting the door slowly behind him. “My plan was to do laundry today, and — well, you’ll see how that worked out for me.”
You kept your fingers interlocked with his while you surveyed his room. Like the rest of the house, you’d been in there countless times before without truly seeing any of it. Apart from the bare minimum clutter he’d needlessly apologized for, every surface was thoughtfully decorated. Even the absence of some keepsake or trinket on his shelf was purposeful. 
He keeps space.
Propped on a stand near his dresser was his guitar, which you didn’t even know he still played. Of course he does, you thought, he’d have been an idiot to throw that talent away. 
You were smiling long before you noticed you were doing it, even more so when you clocked where it sat. Just like it did in his childhood home, the guitar was positioned directly across the room from his doorway — the first and last thing he’d see when he came and left. 
Carefully, you reached out and trailed one finger over the tuning pegs. It all felt forbidden, but stupidly, you felt compelled. You spent a lifetime aching to touch him. For reasons you couldn’t explain, his guitar was no different.
Watching you caress his guitar made his pulse race harder; you could feel it where your wrist aligned with his. If nothing else had changed, you suspected that he still didn’t let anyone lay a finger on it. Jimin always insisted that he did all the maintenance himself because he didn’t trust the technician at the local music shop to be careful enough. 
To your surprise, it didn’t appear to be anxiety spinning circles in his stomach as he watched you. He spun you around, and it was clear from the look in his eye — the unshakeable desire he felt to touch you that same way.
You wondered what he was thinking while he studied your face in silence — if the months he’d spent trying to teach himself to hate it had blurred your features; and if he saw them clearly now.
The smattering of freckles across the bridge of your nose which swept over the tops of your cheekbones — even though it was winter, and you hadn’t seen much of the sun for weeks. 
The small scar interrupting your eyebrow, which you’d gotten when both of your families went camping together a million years ago. He’d sprinted across tide pools to help you back to your feet, reaching you long before Seokjin could catch up.
You didn’t know if it was a conscious decision now, but he leaned down and placed a kiss there the way you wished he had back then. 
“This isn’t still illegal, is it?” He murmured against your skin.
Unable to breathe, let alone speak, you shook your head so subtly that it couldn’t reasonably be counted as movement. Your next move was bolder, though: You unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugged your way out of it, and let it fall at your feet. 
With a quick glance down, you remembered what you were wearing and cringed with your whole body.
Neither of your socks matched; your sweatpants had a hole near the crotch; and your sweatshirt’s sole task had been to hide the ratty, old MapleStory t-shirt that you stole from Seokjin when he went off to college.
A certifiable mess in a self-imposed dry spell.
Jesus Christ.
“Laundry day,” you blurted out in explanation, though he hadn’t asked. He wasn’t laughing, either — not reacting in any way to roast you the way you expected him to. Still, the tips of your nose and ears burned with embarrassment. “I didn’t plan for… this.”
His index finger dipped under the hem of your t-shirt and his thumb mirrored the way it traced the stitching. 
“I kind of forgot that you own shit like this.” He replied softly, looking more pensive than usual. “Never see you in sweats.”
It was a fair point.
Jimin had slept next to you on three occasions — when the rules permitted — and you always woke up the same way you’d fallen asleep: completely naked. Somehow, it felt even more intimate for him to see what you wore when you went to bed without him. The silly, branded t-shirt probably said more about you than your bare chest did.
You realized that you’d never seen him in his current state before, either, with black joggers hanging low on his hips. His fluffy, air-dried hair didn’t sit smoothly the way it normally did. You wanted so badly to run your fingers through it, but there was a stronger compulsion to reckon with:
His shirt was ripped at the hem, not quite covering the lower inches of his torso.
Unthinkingly, your hand reached out so your fingers could rest against the skin there, midway down faint the trail of hair that dipped under the waistband of his pants. So much warmer than you, he shivered at your touch. You paused, self-conscious, then glanced up at him with eyebrows raised.
Is this okay?
You didn’t have to ask out loud to get an answer. It came as a whisper — “cold hands” — and it was accompanied by a smile that made your knees weak.
He nodded towards the other side of his room and said, “C’mere.” 
The hand that previously held yours found it again. Fingers slipping easily into the spaces between yours, he led and you followed. 
The crisply folded sheets contrasted completely with the effortless coziness of the rest of the space, but they didn’t stay that way for long. With his free hand, Jimin gripped the comforter and tugged it loose. It fluttered and fell freely back down over the bed.
Sighing reflexively, you slipped into the opening he’d created within the blankets. Every fiber smelled like him — clementine flower, orange blossom, water lily and orris — and now, so would you.
Jimin waited for you to scoot over before filling the space next to you, tilting his body inward to keep his eyes on you. His bent knee pressed against your outer thigh. It was chaste, especially when you considered the thousand other ways he’d touched you, but it had you vibrating in place, nonetheless. He probably felt it when he leaned in and kissed you for the third time, fingers sliding into your hair.
Tangled in him, your intrusive thought won out. Loose, it flew like a ping-pong ball around the inside of your skull: He can probably feel all that dry-shampoo, too. 
Like he was begging you to focus, the tip of his tongue flicked across your bottom lip and stole a whimper. Your lips parted eagerly against his to accommodate him; both of you starving for every bit of tenderness you’d refused to let him give before. 
As he poured more of himself into that kiss, the hand in your hair ran slowly down the length of your neck, over the slope of your shoulder, and down the curve of your torso. It stopped on the top of your thigh, warming you through to your bones. For the first time, his fingers didn’t dig harshly into the doughy flesh he found there. Now, his feather-light touch left you buzzing instead of bruised.
With every second that passed, your tingling spine struggled more and more to hold you upright. Noting the slight shift in your posture, Jimin guided you — still lip-locked — to rest your head on his pillows. It wasn’t until you tilted your head slightly to the side that his lips left yours; dipped down below your jaw to pepper the exposed skin there with unbearably soft kisses.
Each one made your pulse race harder than the last, pulled needy little breaths out of your mouth.
“Sound so pretty when you sigh like that,” he hummed against your throat. “Might have to kiss you like this forever if this is what it gets me.”
You’d been underneath him more times than you could presently recall, but never like this. Until now, you never understood how a person could say they loved you without any words at all, but you heard it. More than anything, you felt it in every brush of his lips — in the static crackling around you, charged with every little, languid line his tongue left behind.
The only thing distracting from your swelling heart was the wetness pooling in the bikini bottoms you’d hastily thrown on in the absence of clean underwear.
Fucking laundry day.
The sole consolation was the fact that the blend of polyester and elastane was better suited for a flood than any lace you would’ve consciously selected.
The breath behind his words tickled and surprised you, derailing your train of thought.
“Is it against the rules to tell you how beautiful I think you are?”
The circles he drew against the fabric of your sweatpants had you hypnotized, but you still managed to reply, “No more rules. Except — Oh, fuck.”
You mewled at the sensation of him suckling at the spot where your neck joined your shoulder. 
“Except that you can’t ever stop.”
His lips curled into a smile against the love bite he’d so carefully crafted. 
“I won’t,” he murmured before placing a kiss in the same spot he’d marked. “But I may need an intermission to get these incredibly chic clothes off your body. Kind of feels sacrilegious, though, I’ve gotta say.”
Your eyes flickered over to him, eyebrows raised. He pursed his lips to keep from smiling, forced the straightest face he could muster, then traced his fingertip over the rip in the crotch of your sweatpants. Sounding downright reverent, he explained, “They’re holey.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” You dropped your head back against the pillows with a groan that didn’t outgun your laughter. “Straight to jail for that. Seriously, that’s a federal crime.”
When your eyes stopped rolling and settled on him, Jimin was already looking down at you with amusement sparkling in the deep brown of his irises. He said nothing, opting instead to kiss you — for the fourth time — as a farewell before pulling away entirely. 
The spot next to you went cold as soon as he sat up, but — bravely — you didn’t complain. You watched with your bottom lip pinched between your teeth. He grabbed the end of his haphazardly, perfectly cropped t-shirt and pulled it off over his head. 
Your only instinct was to reach up to his bare chest and trace every plane of it. To your dismay, Jimin intervened. Fingers at the hem of your top now, he stared expectantly at you until you stretched your arms above your head. That stupid, stolen shirt was guided up and off before it was discarded somewhere unseen.
Jimin’s pupils dilated immediately, gaze sweeping over your bare chest like he was beyond grateful that all your bras were at home, drowning in your washing machine. Uninhibited, he leaned forward. The delicate, cuban-link chain of necklace tickled the skin of your stomach while he placed an open-mouthed kiss in the space between your breasts. Cool to the touch, you shivered for more reasons than one.
When his tongue flicked out over one erect nipple, all you could offer was a breathy sigh, brain scrambled to hell and back. He seemed to draw inspiration from this — him and his goddamn mouth promptly switched tactics. Mimicking you, he looked up at you from under his lashes and blew a warm stream of air over your other nipple.
You were full-out whimpering underneath him. “Shit.”
“Yeah?” He smirked before taking the pebbled bud into his mouth and sucking softly, eyes still locked on yours. 
Can I cum from this?
Oh god, I really might cum from this.
His mouth’s ministrations continued while his hands swept gently down the curves of your waist. That is, until they reached the elastic waistband of your sweatpants. Abruptly, Jimin stopped and sat back onto his calves.
You didn’t have to ask. Jimin’s eyes widened in tandem with the grin on his face; and you knew what he’d discovered. Smiling now with all his teeth, he tugged playfully at the knotted tie sitting above your right hip, keeping your bikini bottoms in place.
He snorted incredulously, “Be fucking for real.”
“Stop.” The word was elongated as you whined. It was useless, but you swatted at his arm. “I told you — ”
“I know, I know. It’s laundry day.” Fuck, his affection for you was written all over his face. “Incredible — truly, I have no notes.”
You buried your face in your hands to hide from him, but he didn’t let you. Just like he did that time on your couch, Jimin pulled your hands away from your face and held them in his own. This time, when he kissed you, you didn’t tear yourself away from him. Instead, you did the opposite. You grabbed the sides of his face in your hands and leaned into him.
With his hands now free, he was able to push your sweatpants down the rest of the way without extricating his lips from yours. Those fucking bikini bottoms went with them when he slipped the fabric over your ankles and tossed them blindly over his shoulder.
Mouth moving hungrily against yours, his hand hovered over your cunt, radiating warmth. You fought to keep your last shred of patience but lost, shifting underneath him to beg wordlessly for his touch. He obliged. His middle finger dipped between your sopping folds until it found the swollen bead of your clit and spiraled over it.
“Fuck,” you moaned into his mouth. He swallowed it, kissed you so deep your mind went blank.
The slow pace he’d chosen normally would have driven you mad, but instead of coming across as a taunt — or a punishment — you got the impression that he was basking in your arousal. That he was taking his time, savoring you and the million ways your body craved his.
When you pulled back, your lips were kiss-bitten and palpably swollen. He must have felt your quickened breath against his own lips. They autonomously curved into the tiniest sliver of a smile. 
Watching him watch you, it was clear that Jimin loved you like this — wide-eyed, unguarded, inviting. He loved you generally. You knew that much for certain as he gazed down at you, and you were so fucking thankful that neither of you had to keep pretending otherwise.
Whatever trance he’d fallen into ended when you whispered, “Please.”
Though your plea wasn’t much more than an exhale, he didn’t need to be told twice. Momentarily, he stood; and as he did, your own hand dipped down between your legs. He stepped out of his joggers with his focus trained on you, staring spellbound while you touched yourself in his absence. Wet enough to drip.
If you had to wager on it, you’d bet that he could’ve stood there all night observing, listening to the way you moaned as you slicked your own fingers, but the darkened tip of his cock was weeping like he wanted you badly enough to ache. Completely incapable of spending any more time as a bystander, he fell to his knees between your legs. There, he guided them further apart with his hands.
Desperately, you grabbed one of his hands from where it sat on your knee and pulled him so that he was leaning over you once again. You wanted to feel the way his breath caught as he entered you, bare chest pressing into yours while he filled you. Needed him — just him — all the time.
Forearms now pressed to the mattress and fingers in your hair, he caged you in. His forehead came to rest against yours when you reached into the space between your bodies and dragged his tip through the mess he’d made of you. That faint squelch was obscene enough in the quiet of his room. It couldn’t hold a candle to the groan that escaped his chest when he finally entered you.
“Holy shit.” He exhaled sharply through gritted teeth. Your walls enveloped him, squeezing tight enough that no question remained about where he belonged. “Fucking missed you.”
That initial, perfect ache threatened to blind you, but it wouldn’t have mattered with the way your eyes screwed shut — too overcome with want to do much more than breathe. Slowly, inch by inch, his cock stretched you until he bottomed out. It was the closest thing you’d ever had to an out-of-body experience.
“Missed you,” you mumbled.
Well beyond fuck drunk, you bordered on incoherent. A kiss on your forehead lassoed you, brought you crashing back down. It was redundant, but he murmured, “Come back to me.”
You blinked up at him in a haze.
“Want you to look at me.” 
He sounded shy, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard him, and you didn’t need any further explanation.
Eye contact had never been on the table before, deemed early on to be far too fucking intimate. If this is what he wanted, you decided, you’d never take your eyes off him again. Especially not when he looked at you the way he did then, like you hung the fucking stars in the sky.
You countered, “Kiss me.”
And he did, like he might never get the chance again.
No amount of closeness could’ve been enough, but you settled for wrapping your legs around him. With his range of motion now limited, he grinded against you; the curve of his cock rubbed against that secret spot behind your pubic bone. 
Bones? Do you still have any of those?
Every tantalizing, slow thrust made it harder for you to remember why you’d ever required harshness when his gentleness now was infinitely more intense. It was so much better — being loved by him rather than hated.
Desperate fingers left half-moon imprints on his back, which was beginning to slick with sweat. The spaces between your whimpers lessened while the pressure in your abdomen began to build. Jimin had you teetering at the edge of the world, and you told him so with your lips at his ear, “Please — I’m so close.”
His forehead creased, and you watched in real time as determination etched itself into his features. He was perfect — beautiful — and he was close, too. You clenched; he cursed, “Fuck.”
You looked up at him through fluttering lashes, silently begging him not to stop. Not now, not ever. Stay.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” Jimin murmured, burying himself deeper with every thrust. “You know that, right? How much you mean to me?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
He watched your face as you came — when your eyes rolled back, and your head tilted against his pillows. Your legs loosened their binds around him as they shook, gasping moans tumbling out of your open mouth. His pace didn’t falter; his presence deep inside of you only elongated your orgasm.
Bliss.
You were still fluttering around his length when your eyes finally drifted open again. Not even through your first aftershocks, his panting breaths alone could’ve pushed you headfirst into a second orgasm.
His gaze had dropped at some point to see the way your cunt clung to him with every backstroke. He must’ve felt you staring, though; he looked back up at you, pupils blown wide. That was all it took to dot stars along the edges of your vision.
Back arching up off the mattress, you gushed around him once again. Mindless babbling — consisting only of his name and expletives — fell clumsily off your tongue. It caught both of you off-guard when your shaky voice managed to plead, “Wanna feel you cum — please. Want you to let go for me.”
Only after you begged him did his thrusts become desperate, reckless. There was the unmistakable sound of your wetness and skin colliding with skin, and then there was the low moan that built in the seat of his chest and broke free. Face buried in the crook of your neck as he came, the heat of his breath on your skin was rivaled only by the dizzying warmth of his release spilling into you.
He struggled to hold himself up while his spent cock still twitched inside of you. If you were being honest, you adored the way his weight pinned you against his mattress. Maybe, you thought, you could stay there forever.
Eventually, an exhausted voice came from the curve of your shoulder, almost too muffled to hear.
“How is it —” Jimin panted. “— That in the hundred times we’ve had sex, it never felt like that?”
You chewed on the inside of your cheek. Tingling fingertips ran lightly and lazily across his shoulder blades. The hint of hesitation bubbling in the pit of your stomach cautioned you not to speak your thoughts out loud, so you stared at the ceiling above you and willed yourself to be brave.
Your voice threatened to give up on its way out.
“Nobody’s ever fucked me like they love me before.”
He mustered all the energy he still had to turn his head and look at you. At first, you couldn’t tear your eyes off the ceiling to look back. Make space, you begged yourself; and so, you did.
With his chest resting heavily on yours, you wondered if he could feel the way your heart skipped a beat at that eye contact alone. The glimmer in his eye informed you that, yes, he could. 
“Better get used to it, then.” He punctuated his thought by pressing his lips to your temple. “‘Cause that’s what you signed up for.”
You smirked, “Oh? Was there a contract?”
You might’ve kept teasing him if he didn’t tilt your head to kiss you properly — and fuck, you were melting all over again.
“Sealed with a kiss, no less.” He leaned down to nip affectionately at your earlobe. Mouth at the shell of your ear, he purred. “Like any deal with the devil should be.”
“Goddamn.” You whistled. “Promoted from menace to devil already. Congratulations.”
With a roll of his eyes, he pulled out of you and forced himself upright to his feet. Before you could even ask him to, Jimin leaned down to kiss the lips you’d poked out into a pout. Your voice was uncharacteristically needy as your question slipped out.
“You are coming back, right?”
“Nope,” he hummed against your lips. You leaned away from him with your jaw dropped incredulously. “I’m taking a shower and I’m taking you with me.”
That was the only warning you got before one of Jimin’s arms slipped under the hinge of your knees, and the other disappeared behind your back. You screamed. Instead of flailing — a one-way ticket to the floor, you imagined — you threaded your arms around his neck and clung to him as if your life depended on it.
“Pardon me,” you sputtered. “But what the fuck is happening right now?”
“Shhh — pipe down. I’m keeping a promise.”
You stared at him expectantly. For a moment, he ignored you and continued quietly on his way towards the bathroom. It wasn’t until he reached the threshold that he paused with a sigh.
The look he shot you then was far more earnest than you could’ve expected under the circumstances. One that said he saw you, not through you, and he wasn’t going to look away.
Jimin said it breezily, like it cost him even less than the air it took to vocalize it: “I am not letting you down again.”
A pinprick of tears stung the corners of your eyes. You fought like hell to keep them where they belonged. It was such a stupid joke — made so lightly — and it still held more weight than anything you’d ever heard.
Eyes swimming despite your resistance, you sniffled and laughed. “Not, like, literally, though — right?”
“Aw, baby.” He kissed your temple again, cooing. Part of you hated it, but the rest of you swooned. “Don’t test me.”
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jimilter · 10 months
Text
on the borderline — 04 | pjm. (m)
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Park Jimin has been your buoy, your anchor and the ship of sanity that guides you to shore amid storms of self-doubt, nearly all your life; as have you been his. That is not to say nothing has ever brewed beneath the surface of platonic friendship, or that the two of you have never been victims to mistiming. Regardless, you would never risk the friendship you have with him now for anything. Even if you have to hurt him – or even yourself – in the process.
pairing: jimin x reader
rating: m (18+)
genre: humor | drama | friends to lovers!au
word count: 9.3 k
— warnings: swearing + mentions of a past toxic relationship + mentions of therapy/therapists + mentions of sex (some get detailed and explicit, hence the rating!) + some descriptive r-rated daydreaming + emotional constipation at its peaK + denial at its peaK + reader is a mess throughout + jimin cooking breakfast without a shirt 🚨 (will add more if i notice anything while proofreading!)
— note: HAPPY 10 YEARS TO BANGTAN - MY LOVE, MY HEART, MY WORLD! 🥺💜 hello world, i've crawled out of the grave two months later - who remembers me? :] anyways, parts of this aren't proofread (esp the last 2k words) bec i finished jusssst in time to post this today. will edit it in a day, tops! drop me a word~
ps. the rating, genre and warnings mentioned above pertain to this chapter, only.
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𝐈𝐕 ⇢ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 ♪ i’m sinking faster and faster
What wakes you up is the inability to move your leg. 
It’s not like you urgently need to move, either; you were just casually trying to wiggle into a more comfortable sleeping position, like everyone does at nine am on a Saturday morning, when you encountered a hindrance. Your sleep is disturbed, not out of discomfort, but more out of confusion.
Murmuring a curse under your breath, you part your crusty ass eyelids to peer at the warm and heavy human-like pillow that is laying above your blanket and restricting your movement. Wait, this pillow feels a little too giant. You do not have pillows as giant as—
Holy shit, it’s Jimin!
With a deep and loud and dramatic gasp, last night rushes back to you.
The wine, the movie, the kiss you initiated to prove that you and Jimin could kiss without making things weird – great joke, by the way – the kiss Jimin then initiated God knows why, the really good making out and the…
Fuck, the way he ate you out? You don’t remember the last time someone did it so—
Feeling your cheeks starting to heat up, you snap out of it. He’s Jimin, for fuck’s sake! Park jimin! Your childhood best friend, Park Jimin!
Your childhood best friend Park Jimin who is fantastic in bed—
No. Nope.
This is serious. And it’s bad.
Oh, God this is bad.
The heat that was climbing up your cheeks has now rerouted to your head, and your brain is slowly vaporizing under the tension.
Meanwhile, Jimin is fucking snoring away like an oblivious, angelic fucker. What? No, not angelic, no matter how soft his pouted lips look when he’s asleep, he was a demon with you in this very bed.
Almost subconsciously, you reach behind you to run a hand across the skin of your butt. It’s squeaky clean. Did he clean you up after you’d fallen asleep?
Blinking, you snap yourself out of the tender thoughts. This is no place to be thinking how good of a friend he was for cleaning you up when the reason why you were dirty had no friendly causes, whatsoever.
“Jimin!” you hoarsely call out to him, voice scratchy like sandpaper and honestly, too damn low to wake up your best friend who sleeps like a log.
Sitting up under the constricting blanket with difficulty, you scowl at him and shove his shoulder. 
“Park Jimin! Wake the fuck up!”
No movement, not even a change in his breathing pattern, not even a lapse in the muted snores.
“Jimin!” you try a little louder this time, patting his cheek – so soft and warm, it’s hard to remove your hand from it – and he finally stirs. “Hey, wake up!”
Petulantly whining, he turns his head to the other side. “W’ass th’ime?”
What? Oh, time? 
You check your bedside clock. “Uh, it’s nine. Oh fuck! You have a flight at noon! Wake up, Jimin!”
He groans and tries to fucking turn away. “I can get ready in an hour… Lemme just… th’rty minuhs…”
“Jimin, oh my God—” You break off, choosing to instead tug the blankets off him.
And. Well. It backfires, because he’s as naked as you underneath that. Almost involuntarily, your gaze traces his defined pectorals and travels down across his very prominent abdominal muscles, and then – 
You shut your eyes.
He’s hard.
Swallowing roughly, you clumsily tug the blanket back up to his waist, shivering a little when your fingers accidentally brush his warm skin.
“Jimin,” you begin again, weakly, “please wake up. We really need to talk.”
That makes him sigh and finally crack one eye open to peer up at you. “What do you—”
His lips part, scanning the way you sit with your shoulders bare and covers held up to your chest.
“Oh.”
You can see the moment recollection makes it back to him, both eyes opening, now and widening just a fraction. Then he exhales and promptly shuts his eyes again.
What?
Is he going back to sleep?
“Jimin, what the fuck? Get up!”
With a grumpy whine, Jimin finally moves to sit up in bed, scowling at you with his whole face and looking absolutely adorable. Wait, no—
“What is it?” he murmurs through his pouty mouth, eyes swollen and barely open. “What couldn’t wait for thirty fucking minutes?”
Your jaw slowly drops. “Do… you do remember that we had sex last night, right?”
He nods. “Couldn’t be more obvious.” He points at a dark mark on your chest peeking above the blanket you’ve wrapped around yourself.
Tugging the damn cloth higher up, you gape at the guy. He sits simply blinking at you, and you can’t tell if he’s just sleepy or really that unbothered. “And…? Doesn’t it, like, bother you? At all?”
“Bother me?” He frowns and cocks his head to the side, looking at you as if you’re speaking a language he can’t understand. 
“Jimin. We had sex.”
He blinks again, nonchalant as fuck, and then nods. “Yes, we did.”
At your wit’s end, you fist your free hand in your hair. “Dude. We – we had sex. It… It…”
Your stuttering, already mortifying in itself, gets tenfold worse when you can’t find the words to express yourself. Or maybe you do have the words, but you’re not sure how to voice how shockingly your world has been turned upside down when the other half of the involved party looks this cool about it. You are starting to feel like you’re making a big deal out of nothing – but you know it’s not fucking nothing!
“It was… amazing?” Jimin finishes for you with raised eyebrows, looking more awake but still as unbothered, and that is absolutely not where you were going with your sentence. But he’s not done: “Fantastic? Uncannily good and possibly the best sex you’ve had in a while? ’Cause same.”
And now he’s grinning at you and you’re at a loss. Frowning furiously to hone your focus in when your head has started to ache, you shake your head and try again. “Ye–yeah, all – all of that, yes, but also something that shouldn’t have happened!”
Jimin’s eyes narrow at you. “Are you trying to tell me you regret it?”
“Yes! Obviously! You don’t?”
“Why would I?” He shrugs his shoulders and brushes a hand through his hair, not a single expression changing on his face. “It was really good, we used protection and—”
“Okay, stop!” You interrupt him with a wince, eyes screwed shut. “I cannot do this without coffee.”
"I—wow. Maybe I can't do this with a coffee either.” You have frozen at the entrance to your kitchen to gape at the sight of your best friend's shirtless back as he sears something in a pan on the stove. “Not without a whole fucking pot of it.”
At your declaration, Jimin turns his head to cock an eyebrow at you over a shoulder, and you shoot a curse at yourself in your head for the clench your insides give. He looks so good like this. It's so wrong and wholly unfair.
Because you have hung out with a shirtless Jimin plenty of times in your life. You’ve objectively admired his build, too, because one – it has been your duty as his best friend and regular wingwoman to give him reviews, and two – for a female that likes men, you’d have to have been a saint to not admire his beautiful body, like, come on.
But never have you ever had such a visceral reaction to the sight. This is what you get for getting to know all those solid muscles up close and personal and freaking tasting his skin, you’ve been so fucking stupid, good God—
"Please put on a shirt, man," you sigh, attempting to avert your eyes but failing.
Jimin, the absolute dick, rolls his eyes at your request. And then just snorts at you and turns back to the stove, as if he finds the suggestion hilarious. As if you're not seconds away from throwing yourself at him and damaging your friendship more than it has been damaged so far. 
Why is he acting so normal? You’re starting to hate your best friend.
After your conversation had been halted in the bedroom, you left the bed to wash your face and throw on a fresh hoodie because you did not wanna wear the one that’s been sitting on your living room floor all night, not when it reminds you of where and how Jimin ate you out. Dear God. You also stole some coffee from the pot while Jimin washed his face. After which you tossed him out to brush your teeth because your mouth tasted like ass, and assumed he'd use the time to dress up because he had to leave soon.
You did not expect the very domestic sight of him cooking – let alone the very erotic version of it that his state of undress depicts.
And now you're experiencing a meltdown because the man's back muscles are visibly rippling with his motions. The slight bruises you've caused by running your nails across them shine a brilliant red against the taut, golden skin. Taunting you. Reminding you of how you lost your goddamn mind, last night.
You feel embarrassed. But you also feel horny.
Which makes you feel doubly embarrassed.
The guy stays completely unbothered, though, humming to himself and fiddling with the damn omelet he's making that smells too fucking good and makes your stomach rumble.
Why is he making your life so difficult, in every single way?
Sighing, you collect all remnants of your willpower, sanity and self-respect, to turn away and stomp your way back to your bedroom. Grabbing a hoodie from your closet, you stomp your way back to the kitchen, this time stepping in and bravely walking up to your best friend, and press the article of clothing into his back.
"Min. Please just put some clothes on and let me have a full cup of coffee. Please."
This time Jimin fully turns to face you with amusement in his eyes and concealed laughter on his lips if the way he's got them pursed is anything to go by. You resolutely do not look beyond his face, instead turning your gaze to the tamagoyaki this man has expertly whipped up in the time it took for you to brush your teeth.
"This looks so good, how'd you make it?"
Jimin steps away with a laugh, finally accepting the hoodie from you to throw it on. "You had an appropriate pan and nice, bamboo chopsticks. That's all it takes."
That is not all it takes, but you're gonna stop arguing because the three sips of coffee that you could stomach with your unbrushed mouth have been exhausted by this interaction and you need more fuel to go on.
So you and Jimin find yourselves on your kitchen island with the Japanese omelet, a pot of coffee and your respective mugs, quietly eating, sipping and holding a staring contest.
Because now that he's appropriately covered, all the reasons why last night was a horrific idea have made their way back to you. You feel like this is the last time you're sitting and eating together, and it's becoming increasingly hard to stomach the impossibly delicious omelet Jimin has prepared.
He is the one to eventually break the stare, giggling at you when you glare at him over the rim of your mug. “Stop looking so mad, babe. So maybe last night shouldn’t have happened, but at least it was good, yeah?”
“How can you be so fucking happy and calm when I’m literally going through an existential crisis, right now?”
Amusement in his curved eyebrows, Jimin hums as he takes a sip from his cup. “Ever heard of post-orgasmic afterglow?”
“For fuck’s sake, Min!” Throwing your head back, you release a groan. “We really got drunk and put our friendship on the line! We – we swore we’d never do anything to jeopardize our bond and then we have sex like some stupid horny teenagers? Last night should not have happened, Jimin!”
That makes him clear his throat and stop laughing. And then, with the most straight face ever, he asks you: “Okay, but at least the sex was good, right?”
You are fucking dumbfounded. “The sex—”
“Was it or wasn’t it? You haven’t said a word about the quality of the sex and I’m starting to get worried…”
“Jesus Christ, yes, it was fucking bomb, but—”
“Well, then that's one win!” He claps his hand together, stepping off his seat to walk up to you and put both his palms on your shoulders. “Now that we are past that, rest assured that this won’t affect our friendship. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that—”
“I can and I am. I’ve known you since we were, like, twelve.”
“I hated you when we were twelve,” you remind him with a pout.
He laughs at that. “Yeah, but you also had a crush on me when we were thirteen, so explain that, huh?”
Despite the events of last night, his mention of your past crush on him still manages to make your cheeks heat up. Doesn’t help that he looks like this when he’s talking about it, all soft in the huge hoodie you basically forced him, a sweet smile pulling his lips up and eyes sparkling.
“We are way beyond ruining our friendship, trust me,” he tells you again, jostling you by your shoulders. “And honestly, this doesn’t have to affect anything if we don’t let it. So we have great sexual chemistry. Honestly, are you really that surprised?”
You’re really not because your brain has been going wild ever since his birthday party, but what the hell does he mean by that?
At your wide eyes, he throws his head back in a laughter.
“Hasn’t it always been like that between us?”
“Like what?” You feel so fucking clueless, you’re half afraid Jimin’s about to call you out on your confession of your fantasizing and you’re bracing yourself for the embarrassment.
“We get on each other’s nerves all the time, but we also love each other. Those sorts of things tend to build sexual tension, dude,” he explains as if he's telling you about a scientific experiment, and you shove his hands off of you with a scowl.
“You didn’t just talk about our supposed sexual tension and then call me dude in the same sentence, weirdo.”
He’s laughing now, eyes disappearing in a squint as his cheeks push up into them, and the sight is too endearing for you to not smile in adoration. “My point was,” he finally concludes, “that we can make it work. It doesn’t have to happen again, we don’t even have to ever talk about it.”
You like the sound of that. Humming, you take a sip from your coffee and nod. “That sounds like something I'd like to do. Can we put this in the past forever?”
“Yes, we can.” Jimin nods, giving you a thumbs-up before he raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I can’t promise I won’t make jokes about some stuff, because, boy do you have the weirdest erogenous zones. The way you went crazy when I bit into your shoulder? I mean who—”
“Hey, shut the fuck up! I have normal erogenous zones!” You seamlessly slip into the banter, pointing a finger at him. “It’s you that has an ass fetish. You exploded at the sight of my ass!”
A loud gasp leaves him and Jimin places a hand on his chest. “Are you trying to kink shame me?”
“You started it!”
“But you made it worse.” Jimin sighs, dramatically pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know what? You were right. Sleeping with your best friend is a bad idea, and this is why. You already know each other inside out, the only thing you’re unaware of is each other’s sexual lunacy. Now we’ve broken that barrier, we’re absolutely gonna kill each other.”
You’re barely able to keep your face straight after that, breaking into loud laughter. Because he isn’t wrong. You know for a fact you have never had that reaction to being bitten on the shoulder, obviously. Not that you can even recall someone’s teeth being there. But with Jimin, it was just something about him that did the trick. 
His joke alleviates the pressure that this realization could bear down on your chest, though, and that feels a lot freeing.
Maybe this can be okay. Maybe you can move forward without a wall of awkwardness rising between you two.
You will move on with your lives and treat last night as something that came your way – and then passed. Kind of like your crushes on each other during your teenage years. It helped that they never really coincided, but it also had to have helped that you never gave them enough importance to even discuss what you had felt, at the time.
Maybe you shouldn’t be giving this as much importance, either.
It’s you and Jimin! Homies! Bros for life, remember?
Yes, you absolutely do.
So you lean in to hug the guy. “This cannot change anything, okay? Please.”
“It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman.” He laughs but loops his arms around you to tug you closer. “And I don't intend to let that happen.”
You don’t either.
You don’t.
You really don’t.
But…being this close to him is giving you flashbacks to being this close to him when you were naked, and that is making you feel hella hypocritical. Maybe this is just your version of an afterglow; maybe your brain's still high on serotonin. You’ll get over it after this heady rush of last night's multiple orgasms has left. 
Clearing your throat, you separate from him with a tight smile – only to come face to face with a blooming purple and red mark at the base of his throat.
“Fuck, I left a mark!”
Jimin tries to follow your gaze with a cocked eyebrow, but when he can’t, you place a finger against the spot, smudging it as if you’re trying to wipe lipstick off. Which Jimin snorts at, “Yeah, that’s not gonna erase a hickey, ma'am.”
Jimin’s snickering is met by your groan, and you push a finger into his chest. “Please cover that up before you leave for your trip. And keep it covered? You’ve packed turtlenecks, right? You’re obsessed with them!”
Laughter trickles through Jimin, nostrils flared because he has his lips folded in to hold it in. “Why? I could just tell them my girlfriend gave them to me as a parting gift. No one'll question me, anyways.” 
“Dude, you’re going with Tara! And I had a very long conversation with Avni, and—” You break off, unsure about divulging the details of that conversation. “And she…knows we’re just friends.”
“Oh, yeah. Tara. She, um, she’s not the type to ask questions, you know?”
Now that he’s kinda awkwardly looking away and stumbling with his sentence again, you’re reminded of the way he’d stuttered about Tara's name on the phone as well. From what you know, the girl has a husband. Why is your best friend being so suspicious about her?
“But I could always say someone else did this.”
Now wait just a second. Why does that make you wanna scowl?
What kind of teenager shit is this? ‘I worked on this hickey, don’t give someone else the credit?’
God, you need an aspirin.
His dick game really has you hovering in a limbo. But to be fair, it hasn’t even been a whole twelve hours ever since you got into it.
This is definitely gonna take you some time to get over.
Good thing Jimin’s leaving for the next few days, then.
“Do whatever, just – I don’t wanna hear your secretary telling any more of your clients about your girlfriend visiting your office, okay?”
He blinks at you, lips pouted in mock innocence. “Even if it's not you?”
“What? No! Our pact still holds!”
“What if you and Seokjin hit it off tonight, though?”
Seok—
Holy shit, you forgot about Seokjin!
What the fuck is wrong with you? You have a maybe-can-be-probably date with a guy and you literally slept with someone else the night before? It’s obviously worse that it was your best friend, but even so. How did you not even remember about the date? 
Wow, you hoe. This is a new low.
And damn, you and Jimin never ended up having that discussion about your ability to recognize your feelings, after all.
Well. After the events of last night, you don’t think you’ll be needing that conversation, after all. It’s bad enough that you had sex with someone other than the guy you’re going to dinner with, the least you can do is respect both the men enough to not make it a date.
Even as the narrative plays out in your head, you know you’re mostly making excuses. And maybe that should be enough to tell you how desperately your subconscious does not wanna get back into the aspects of romance.
If only the people around you (read: Park Meddling Jimin) could understand as much.
“I really don’t think that’s happening, Min,” you simply state in response, deciding to keep all of your thoughts to yourself for once. 
And Jimin, for once, takes it simply enough, nodding with a small smile. “Well. I still hope you have a good time with him.” He checks his phone, and then gathers you in a quick side hug. “It’s close to ten, I gotta run. See you some time next week?”
You nod. “But stay in touch, okay?”
“Of course! And you too – keep me updated about how things go!” When you scowl, he laughs. “Even if you stay friends, grumpkin.”
“Stop trying to make that happen, it’s not gonna happen!” You push at him and he rolls his eyes with a giggle.
“Sure, Regina George.”
Waving at him, you laugh as Jimin quickly stuffs his last night’s rolled up clothes in a backpack he’s borrowing from you and grabs his glasses from the clutter on your coffee table.
“Have a safe flight, Gretchen!”
“Shut up! Will text you after I land!”
“You do that, Min!”
And then he’s slipping out of the door, dousing your apartment in silence. 
Your eyes casually move toward the coffee table that you will have to clean up, and accidentally land on the couch. 
Fuck.
There’s an immediate throb between your legs when your gaze scans the area where you… well, made out with Jimin and had him basically devour you.
Fuck, indeed.
Jimin was very correct. Last night was some of the best sex you’ve had in a while.
In a really long while.
It’s gonna you take longer than a few days to get over it. How Jimin was able to get back to normal so easily is beyond you. 
But then again – maybe he was putting up a front because he knew he’d be leaving for two days and will be able to get your mind off of last night.
Damn, he’ll be back in just two days? Shit, that doesn’t feel like a nearly big enough time period all of a sudden.
Especially right now when you’re cleaning up your coffee table with your throat dry and your panties wet. You’ll never be able to have him over because every time he sits on this couch, you’ll be reminded of last night.
Fuck, maybe you can never even talk to him normally because every time you look at his lips, you won’t even have to imagine what they can do to you because you now know what they can do to you. 
How the hell are you gonna face him in two days?
You're broken out of your thoughts by the ping of a message on your phone.
10:17 AM | Text Message from Seokjin (office) Hey, we never discussed how we're meeting! Would you like me to pick you up?
You suck in a sharp breath. Seokjin. The date.
Right.
This does not feel right, good God.
A grimace on your face, you type in your response, asking the guy to meet you at the restaurant. You are not showing him your place, just yet. Or at all. And you do not wish to be in another guy’s car when the smell of your best friend’s cologne mixed with the musk of his cum is still stuck to your fucking lungs.
For a brief moment, you wonder if you should cancel the date. 
But then you recall the conversation you had with Jimin less than half an hour ago.
This cannot change anything, okay? Please.
It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman. And I don't intend to let that happen. 
You don’t intend to let that happen, either, which is what stops you from canceling the date.
Besides, maybe hanging out with a guy you’ve been admiring and flirting with might actually help? Now that you’ve established that last night’s activities have to be water under the bridge, there’s nothing wrong with attempting to find a distraction to help you cross that bridge, right?
Jimin, for one, seems to want you to do that really bad. 
A weird feeling tugs at your stomach when you recall his insistence on you working things out romantically with Seokjin. But because you already have a huge pile of dogshit on your plate to deal with, you refuse to think further about the pang and instead attempt to focus on the outfit you will be wearing.
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You end up wearing a knee length, a-line dress with no sleeves – the right amount of pretty, hot and available, without being too much. It’s a deep navy in color, but no surprise there because ninety percent of your closet comprises dark shades of blues.
On your short drive to the Korean BBQ place you are to meet up with Seokjin at, you blast The Weeknd at full volume and enjoy a solo karaoke of Starboy. When you get there, you drop a text to your date and receive an immediate reply telling you the location of the table he’s sat on.
He’s here before you which would leave you no time to compose yourself before you face the guy. Good thing you were a mother-effing starboy in the car, five minutes ago.
Inhaling deeply and then exhaling, you exit your car and elegantly walk up to the cute entrance to the restaurant. The place’s ambience kinda surprises you because it looks a lot upscale than the usual KBBQ places you’re used to frequenting. Gold and white aesthetics surround you, not ideal for a place which deals in smoking food, but the level of cleanliness that the decor still manages to maintain has you humming in appreciation. 
But then again, you shouldn't be surprised – Kim Seokjin eludes lavishness. 
Speaking of, you’re able to spot the man the moment you step foot into the place. And, admittedly, his crisp suit jacket and combed back hair make you space out so hard, you miss the doorman’s whole greeting. Seokjin immediately catches your eye, too, curling his plump lips into that smirk he flashes at people when he knows he’s got them under his spell.
Well. He’s not wrong, there.
Walking up to him – only after bowing at the doorman, because mama didn’t raise a mannerless bitch – you smile at his sweet gesture of pulling a chair out for you. Even the chimney above your table has intricate carvings on it, looking like something out of a royal kitchen.
When he’s finally seated back in his place across from you and has allowed his smirk to bloom into a full smile, you nod your head in polite greeting. “You look good today.”
Seokjin waves a hand of perfectly manicured nails and delicate rings in front of his face. “Oh, please. I look good everyday.”
Uh…
Did you mishear him? The place is buzzing but it’s not that loud. 
But given the serene smile on his face, he doesn’t look like he just made a joke. Yeah, you must have misheard him.
“You look absolutely gorgeous.”
Wow, the pace at which heat fills your cheeks is so embarrassing. Jimin would never let you live it down if he knew, especially given what all you managed to get up to without any blushing business, last—
Okay, what the fuck?
You hope Seokjin doesn’t notice the momentary panicked widening of your eyes. 
Did you really just almost think about the one event in your life that you’re supposed to forget about? Granted, it happened less than 24 hours ago – but you’re on a date. With another guy. And he just complimented you.
At this point, you should really be ashamed of yourself.
“Th–thank you, hehe.”
Did you just stutter? And fake-giggle?
Good God, you’re going to cry. This isn’t the afterglow the world promised you.
Thankfully, Seokjin jumps to discussing food straight away without attempting any small talk. And he’s pretty enthusiastic about it, too – asking for all his favorite side dishes and then encouraging you to add on yours to the order as well.
“Do you, um, come here often?” It takes you a while to frame that question but as soon as it is out of your mouth, you immediately realize that it can sound like you’re asking him if he’s been on other dates here. Often.
Your social skills are on an all time low tonight, God help you…
But Seokjin, thankfully, doesn’t think that far and simply nods. “Oh, yes. I know the manager, so I’ve been coming here since they opened a year ago.”
Ah, so he’s somewhat of a social butterfly.
Immediately, your brain wants to switch to thinking of another social butterfly in your life and make unnecessary comparisons – but you stop that line of thought before it can take form, by smiling wide at Seokjin. He’s so fucking handsome and you’re honestly just wasting it.
“That’s nice! Does he offer you discounts?” Your sense of humor might be broken, but at least this embarrassment stays on the surface and doesn’t make you wanna hide beneath the table.
Chuckling at your question, Seokjin leans over the table and gestures for you to lean closer as well – which you do. “The dude’s actually my brother in law, so fat chance, I’d say.”
You laugh a little louder than necessary on the joke, partially giggling out of relief that your lame ass joke didn’t get rejected.
He might not get discounts, but the service for your table definitely seems to be a little faster and more full of smiles than it is for the other patrons. Well. You're not complaining.
Seokjin smiles and nods at your server as well, respectfully tucking his hands in his lap to allow the guy enough room to set your table. After the server leaves, Seokjin is quick to set arrange the meat on the furnace – hands moving expertly as he twists and turns the strips around according to the level of cooking each portion requires.
He is a gentleman to the tee, cutting the meat up for you and everything, but is also careful about boundaries because he forwards his chopstick to your plate and not your mouth. Although you're sure your dumbass would have opened your mouth to accept the bite if he would’ve offered, too, without realizing the implications of letting your date feed you.
"Good?"
You hold back a moan when the soft and tender meat melts in your mouth, instead choosing to cover your lips daintily with a hand and nod at Seokjin with wide eyes. A comment about you being pronographic with food from a certain someone crosses your mind, and you resist the urge to sob out loud because you need to stop thinking about last night. 
"So good," you manage to murmur back, giving Seokjin a thumbs up with your chopstick hand.
He grins at you before taking a bite himself, and – oh, man. He certainly doesn't hold back on the moans. You're barely able to contain your reaction when the man suddenly throws his head back and releases a deep groan that travels through your body in vibrations.
There's no way to stop your brain from bursting out a whole NSFW scenario, now, that features you on your knees between the man's legs, swallowing his dick as if it's your last meal on earth. 
Damn. Man’s never even mentioned if he even has any romantic intentions with this whole thing or if he’s just treating you because he felt bad for you missing out on the group outing yesterday – and here you are, being obscene about him enjoying his food. How very pathetic of you.
It gets worse, though, because Seokjin suddenly opens his eyes and meets your gaze that you know for a fact has gotten all heavy lidded and dark. Evidenced by the way his eyebrows slowly rise up and tongue flicks out to lick away the remnants of grease from his bottom lip.
"It is good," he murmurs, winking at you.
Yeah no, he's definitely got at least flirtatious intentions. A little flustered, you clear your throat and look away from him, picking up a slice of pickled radish to distract yourself. 
"So…" Seokjin begins and then pauses, causing your gaze to connect with his again because he isn't the type to really hesitate. 
But there's a slight dusting of pink on his cheekbones right now that could very well be a result of the heat from the grill – but the undertones of grimace behind his smile suggest to you that it's not. Oh dear. Is he nervous?
"Just so we are on the same page… I'd been planning to do this for a while now."
A… while? He's not about to profess his undying love, is he? Your back straightens in alarm, but you force your lips to form a grin. "Ask me on a… date?"
He shrugs a shoulder, tilting his head. "Not necessarily a date, no. Just spending time with you one-on-one."
Oh, thank fuck.
"I know it's not just me that feels like this pull between us, right?"
Yep, it's not just him. Although you won't exactly call it a pull. It's a tap, at best. Or even a touchless beckoning? You weren't lying when you said you only objectively admire his good looks.
But you're not about to tell him that.
Smiling at him, you nod. "We're on the same page, then. It's not just you. But… why didn't you?"
"Why didn't I what?"
"Ask to do this earlier?"
And you do genuinely wonder. Because now, too, he's almost tricked you into this instead of being forthright with it. You're, like, seventy-eight percent sure you'd have rejected him if he mentioned the word date, but he doesn't know that. Or does he?
Your eyes narrow slightly as Seokjin gives a self-conscious cough of laughter, hand behind his neck. "Well, I wasn't really sure you were… y'know, available?"
Now hold on a second – that's bullshit. You've never made it a secret that you've been as single as they come, ever since you joined this company three years back. Well, you've also made it known that you aren't exactly available either, but what are the odds of Seokjin completely missing the first half and yet catching onto the second one? 
Unless you mixed it up and made it seem that you are unavailable because you had somebody? Oops.
"What do you mean?" you ask him with a light chuckle, leaning towards the table as he reduces the heat on the grill. 
He rolls his eyes, looking at you with a small smile that feels a tad condescending; as if he's about to go, ‘oh, you poor child,’ on you. "That friend of yours? He began to come around a lot, picking you up after work every other day and stuff. I assumed you'd started seeing someone. We all did.”
“Jimin…?” you mumble in surprise because you'd been so eager to spend every minute of your free time with him when you moved to town that you never paused to consider how it looked. "No, we're just friends! He's my best friend, and we're close. But there's nothing there."
Oh no. Why are you talking about him? You were supposed to not even think of the guy – why did you begin to discuss him?
Well now it's too late, because the can of worms has been opened. Now your thoughts are cascading on themselves like a glitching Windows XP screen. 
Your brain's been sent into an obscene overdrive – as if you’d been holding the gates shut to all these images with your back pressed against them and now they’ve been pushed open by this huge wave that flattens you to the ground and engulfs you in itself. And suddenly, you’re reliving it – his hot exhale against your neck, fingers gripping at your hips, tongue flicking over your nipple, teeth digging your flesh.
Best friend? Right. 
Sweat is trailing down your neck and your gaze is stuck unseeingly in your plate full of food that Seokjin has deposited there for your consumption.
Seokjin.
Fuck.
You’re on a fucking date – with another guy.
What the fuck are you doing?
"So yeah,” escapes you in a broken imitation of a chuckle when Seokjin nods, while you try to suppress the slight tremble in your hand when you wave it before your face to emphasize words. “He's just a friend.”
Who gave you the best pounding of your life, but that’s the fine print no one likes to read.
“Yes, yes, I’ve gathered as much now.” Seokjin’s smile is so wholesome, you feel like you’re violating his aura by breathing the same air as him when your mind's so pathetically filthy. “So… about that same page conversation – what do you expect out of this? A casual hangout? Friendship? Something…more?"
Wow, so this guy is actually a pretty cool guy if you look beyond the narcissism, the overenthusiasm and the noseyness. Quite a list to look beyond, but you do reckon him to at least be friendship material with the thoughtfulness his question displays.
The question, though. What do you expect?
Exhaling, you lean back in your seat and squint into space to think about it. You can’t exactly tell him that you're not the least bit emotionally invested in this and would have just tried to get into his pants if it wasn’t for your best friend’s insistence. But number one: you can’t exactly lie to him because that’d be blatantly leading him on and potentially hurting him; number two: he didn't really present you with an option fitting for this.
You need to find a middle ground. 
Because for wholly selfish reasons that you shouldn’t even be involving Seokjin in, you need his company. You need him as a friend, as a potential bed-mate if he's interested. You need him as someone you can spend time with so as to not spend all of it with the one person who's had your brain in a blender since last night. But friendzoning him isn't the way to go, so you're gonna need a second, third, fourth date – whatever number it takes for you to heal the chemical explosion in your head and be a normal human again.
So you need to find a middle ground.
Which just so happens to be you smirking right back at the guy and giving a carefree shrug. "How about a casual hangout with the potential of a friendship with the side of… something else?"
Seokjin bites down on his bottom lip before he smiles again giving you that knowing, tad condescending smirking pull of his lips. Leaning closer to mimic your position, he raises a tentative finger and traces the back of your hand with it, gaze dark but playful. "Sounds fun."
You turn your hand over to allow his fingers to trace the soft, more sensitive skin of your palm instead, grinning at him. "I am fun."
Snorting, he withdraws himself and nods at you. "And funny. I like it."
The compliment makes you grin wider, even though his standards of 'funny' are sure to be questionable with the kind of jokes you've seen him make and laugh at.
The two of you lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence after that, focus shifted to the food. A few words about the quality of the meat and the level of cooking are tossed here and there. Seokjin is definitely a food lover and definitely knows more about cooking than your average guy. He eventually tells you he used to be a good blogger in his early twenties, which you find kind of cute.
You still don't know what he actually does for a living now, however, and the question must be obvious in your squinted gaze when you're cleaning your hands with a wet wipe because kimchi juices cannot be managed by sheer tissue paper.
"I guess it's time I told you," he begins, getting up with you as the two of you prepare to leave.
You raise an eyebrow. "Tell me what?"
"About my profession."
At the reception, you're preparing to put up a fight to split the bill, when Seokjin simply asks the cashier to put this on my tab, grabs some breath mints, and walks away. Following him with a dumbfounded stare, not before popping a breath mint in your own mouth, you see the way the doorman grins at the guy before bowing and you briefly wonder exactly how often he must come here to be able to bhule up this amount of familiarity. And a whole tab.
Your question is hilariously answered the next moment, when Seokjin walks up to your car and leans against it with a smile, pointing at the building with a raise of his eyebrows.
"I own this place."
"What?" You gape at him in pure confusion. "You… the restaurant? But you… you said…"
"My brother in law's the manager, yes, but this restaurant is mine. Actually, there's a chain of these around the country and a few abroad. We started out five years ago, but… business has kinda flourished recently. You don't frequent KBBQ places often, I see."
Okay, wow. Handsome, flirty and rich? Forget being friends, this dude is total Sugar Daddy material! That, and this also explains his knowledge of food and all the free time he's always got on his hands. "Ah… that's really amazing!"
"It kinda is, if I do say so myself."
Overlooking the narcissism, you hum and move to stand next to the guy, your back against your car, arms brushing his. Despite all his red flags, Seokjin is awfully good at picking up clues, you'd give that to him. Because with a slow twist of his heeled shoes, he moves to hover above you, arms extended and hands braced on the door of your vehicle next to your shoulders.
His breath washes over your face, minty but warm, and his dark eyes pull you in. "This was fun."
You attempt to smirk at him, but your lips tremor for some unknown reason. Not to mention the weird weight that pulls at your stomach at his proximity. 
You try to goad yourself into reacting. A horny grab of his coat lapels would be better than staring at him with wide, borderline scared eyes.
What the fuck is wrong with you, you absolute idiot? Where's that imagery of getting on your knees for him now? Remember the horny rush you felt when he moaned after taking a bite of his food?
But nothing works, your throat swallowing your nerves repeatedly and yet failing to clear all of them out of you. 
Seokjin looks visibly confused at your lack of reaction, but still smiles at you for a moment and brings a hand in to cup the side of your face in his warm palm.
Alarm bells blare loud and shrill in your head, your skin tingling at the contact with his and not in a good way. 
The weight in your stomach expands upwards, pressing onto your chest, and the warm breaths on your face suddenly feel not so pleasant anymore. 
Or rather, they don't feel right.
The smell of Seokjin's woodsy cologne, his height towering over you, the calluses in his palm – everything feels wrong. 
It should be citrus, you should be tilting your head at a different angle, the calluses should be on the fingertips.
It should be Jimin.
Fuck.
You're fucked.
"I… I'm sorry, Seokjin, I.m. I don't think I can do this."
Eyes wide and almost horrified, he immediately jumps away from you with both his palms raised up. "Woah woah, did I overstep? I'm so sorry! Shit, I should've asked for your permission before stepping so close—"
"No, no, it's not you! You were reading the signs and you were reading them right." You reassure him, trying to regulate your breathing now that you finally can breathe properly. "I was into it, I swear! I mean… I thought I was into it. But I…" You sigh, placing a hand over your forehead to give an embarrassed shake of your head. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, please don't apologize." Seokjin shakes his head tenderly, looking at you with a frown that spells concern as well as confusion. But then he grins at you, clearly trying to make a joke out of the situation to ease you down. "There will always be more opportunities to make out, my lips aren't going anywhere!"
Oh… But you don't think there will be. You don't want there to be. 
He reads something on your face and slowly raises his eyebrows. "Or maybe not?"
You give a weary sigh, shutting your eyes and slumping against the silver of your car. "I really really don't wanna lead you on, Jin. You're an amazing guy, and… I'd really love to have a friend in you. But I don't think I'm in the right mindspace to invest into anything further than that."
And it is so weird to confess something that has been true for years – except now, it's in a wholly different context. You have steered clear of emotional entanglements for so long because of the way things went south with your ex. That hasn't stopped you from pursuing physical intimacy, however.
But right now, you're stepping away from the latter as well. 
You can feel your brain shutting down on your emotions, refusing to let you assess what you feel, least of all why you feel it. But you most certainly were craving your best friend when another guy was just about to kiss you – so you are most certainly, very royally fucked to a huge degree.
When you finally meet Seokjin's gaze again, trying to avoid your thoughts, he's looking at you with a small smile. It is an extended version of the condescending one you've seen him wear multiple times tonight, except this one seems more sweet than tainting.
"Can I ask you something?"
You blink at the unexpected question. "You just did," you lamely mumble, cringing at your own self. "Sorry. Yes, please, go ahead.
He laughs and tilts his head to the side. "Is Jimin really just a friend to you?"
Eyes widening in surprise, you're at a loss of words at the suddenness of the question. It's not an unfamiliar one – far from it. In your entire existence as Jimin's best friend, you've encountered it more times than you can count; as best friends usually do, before they laugh it off and call each other gross.
But, strangely enough, facing it this time brings out an emotion that is far from humor. It, in fact, takes you back to that time in college when you were all nineteen and you'd freshly revealed about your past crush on Jimin during some game amongst your group of friends. Wheein, Jeongyeon and Seungcheol, the three other friends that completed your group of five, then took it upon themselves to tease the two of you at every chance they got. 
You claimed your crush was old and you'd gotten over it – and yet butterflies filled your tummy every time Jimin flirtatiously wiggled his eyebrows at you at their insistence. You didn't even go to the same college, man used to make you lose braincells over video calls!
Those similar butterflies occupy the cavity beneath your diaphragm now too, as you stay blinking at Seokjin, taking way too long to answer. Which gives away the answer in itself.
Giving you a hum, long and deep, he rolls back on his heels and nods. "I see."
"What? No!" You suddenly jump up to defend yourself. "I… We're just in a… weird phase right now." That's one way to put it, you guess. "B–but we're friends. Just friends. The best of friends."
"Are you sure it's me that you're trying to convince?"
You bite your tongue at the laughter in his voice. Are you really trying to lie to yourself?
Do you really have a crush on your best friend…again?
 Seokjin gives a pat to your shoulder. "Don't worry about it, okay? I can't say I didn't have an inkling. Hell, we've all seen the two of you act impossibly couple-y around each other. Even if you were just friends in the beginning, it was bound to evolve into something more given how you looked at each other."
Okay, enough. That's… too much.
It was one thing when it was just Jimin’s colleagues that thought the two of you acted couple-y because he'd never bothered to correct them. It's a whole other when it’s your colleagues too because you've always brushed off their suspicions, without fail. 
This is getting out of your hands.
"I'll be taking my leave, okay? Drive safe and let me know when you've reached home." Seokjin smiles again when you meet his gaze. "No hard feelings, okay? I'll see on Monday."
You hope you'd be able to face him on Monday without breaking into tears of humiliation.
Sighing, you wave goodbye to Seokjin and, unlocking your car, get into it. Placing both hands on the steering wheel, you rest your forehead against their back, exhaling roughly.
This is all so confusing, you almost want to cry. Or call up Jeongyeon and complain about your confusing state of mind to her. But you're a terrible friend who doesn't keep in touch with people regularly so the last time you talked to the girl would have been on her birthday. Almost a year ago. It's coming up again next month, in fact. So nope, no messages.
With a grimace, you extract your phone to check the time – just as a message pings on it.
07:41 PM | Text Message from Min 🌟 <image_2839.jpg>
Great. Just what you need. More of him to absolutely obliterate any semblance of sanity you could have clung onto.
Heart almost beating out of your chest, you click on the message with embarrassingly shaky fingers. A picture of him awaits you – a dramatic selfie where his face is resting against a pillow with his eyes shut and lips pouted. The accompanying text spells out 'tired' in small letters, followed by multiple ellipses because one couldn't have made the point clearly enough for him.
Your heart has no business thumping like it us at the sight of his shiny mouth, and your face definitely deserves to be sued for heating up like a fucking toaster. You could earn a tortilla on your cheeks.
Oh God. 
You do have a crush on him again. Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.
What the fuck have you done?
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On your way back, your whole head was such a mess that you almost turned into the wrong lane. You'd planned a Marvel movie marathon to get your mind off everything and fall asleep in front of the TV – so that you can wake up on Sunday afternoon with Chris Evans’ ass in his tight Cap’n America spandex on your mind.
But as you go through your nightly routine of brushing and showering, you realize that watching TV is out of the question because you cannot stay in your living room without reliving the way you were eaten out, here. And touching yourself to the thought of the guy you don't wanna think about will be sort of counterproductive.
So you decide to pull out your laptop and snuggle in your bed, resolutely turning towards the window in your room to avoid looking at the place where you knelt before Jimin. But that makes you face the picture of the two of you that you keep on your nightstand like a sap, and you release a tired groan.
"Why the fuck are you everywhere?" you lament into your empty room which doesn't feel nearly empty enough with all the traces of your best friend around it.
For the first time in your life, you're beginning to wonder if you've woven Jimin too intricately in your life than a best friend should be.
Good God. A spandex clad ass won’t be enough, you’ll need Chris Evans to get naked for you to be able to deal with this shit. Fuck it, you're watching Not Another Teen Movie.
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It's 2 am, you’ve gone through four movies, and yet haven’t been able to gather enough sanity to text your best friend back.
He probably thinks you’re riding Seokjin’s dick by now. Which you would have been, had it not been for this uncalled for, absolutely unwelcome, highly inconvenient and horrendously intense attraction you’re feeling for him instead.
What is worse, it’s accompanied by telltale signs of a crush. What a nightmare to bear.
It all sounds like you’re being extra, but you’re actually just afraid.
The truth is – you're terrified of feelings; of getting too attached to somebody. And not just because you've seen how it can make people dependable, symbiotic to the point of being parasitic, the way they did your ex. But also because they change people in even more, even scarier ways.
Especially friends.
The moment that line is crossed from friendship to romance, everything is changed. At the risk of sounding morbid, you'd like to claim that everything is essentially ruined. 
You've seen it happen to the closest of friends. The mask comes off, and everything that a person was as a friend – completely disappears as they assume the role of a partner. It never makes sense to you why this happens. 
But your biggest fear in life is that it may happen to you. That it may happen with Jimin. You'd realized it when you were 19, so you'd crushed all the giddy feelings in you and moved on with your life as Jimin’s best friend. 
And it worked out great, didn’t it? For eight whole years?
Fuck, what if fizzles out now, though?
“Fuck fuck fuck,” you muter to yourself, covering your face with both your palms.
You really don't wanna say it because it makes you feel like shit, especially given how normal Jimin was this morning, but… had you known getting physically close to him would lead to you getting so lost in your head, you would never have kissed Jimin. You would never have let that conversation with Avni play with your head for so long, in the first place.
Because all that has led you here, to this – leaving him on read and ignoring his face time calls. Poor guy probably just wants to know how your date went.
Well. Maybe you’ll answer him tomorrow.
Maybe you’ll be brave enough to confidently lie your way out of it. Maybe you'll be saner, more composed?
Tomorrow. You promise your self you'll be better tomorrow.
“Tomorrow.”
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© jimilter | 2023
250 notes · View notes
thebangtancloud · 2 years
Note
hi! can i pretty please request a bts reaction to when they kick you out of the car during an argument but then when he goes looking for you after coming to his senses, you're nowhere to be found? make it really angsty please i'm in the mood for heartbreak; thank u so much, ily and have a great day ahead!
He can't find you after asking you to leave during an argument ~ BTS Reactions
Genre: Heavy Angst Warnings: Curse Words, Intense arguments, The reason for the argument in Jungkook's scenarios is quite ambiguous so you can choose any situation that you like.
A/n: Since you've asked for angst ;) also struggled to come up with a scenario for joonie who can't drive, like who'd ask the driver to get out of the car LMAO
Kim Namjoon:
The car had been parked at the side of the highway, your fingers trembling because of how firmly you were gripping the steering wheel.
"What is your problem, Namjoon?" you sighed in defeat. "You've been ignoring me for the past two hours. If you have a problem with me then just tell me. You didn't need to behave as though I was invisible to you in front of everyone. That was embarrassing."
Namjoon sat quietly in the passenger seat, bouncing his leg and looking out of the window at the passing cars.
"Just tell me what's the problem," you pleaded desperately. "Namjoon, talk to me-"
He moved away from you when you reached for his hand, staring back at you through the darkness of the car.
"You," he stated simply. "You're the problem."
"What?" you whispered in shock. "What do you mean?"
"I can't believe you, (Y/n). You-" he clicked his tongue. "You're saying that you were embarrassed? You embarrassed me, (Y/n). How could you have spoken that way to my parents?"
You turned to look away, pained at the words that were falling from his mouth.
"That was so unlike you? You're never this way, and it really surprised me to see the way you were talking with them. Not in a good way, by the way."
You nodded meekly. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it."
"There's a reason why I've not been speaking to you, (Y/n). It angered me so much because my mum was clearly upset. I didn't want to talk about this until I was calm because I know you'd get upset. I just wanted to be by myself, I'm surprised you didn't get the hint already."
At least the darkness surrounding the two of you hid your tears away from Namjoon.
"Okay, alright. We won't be home for another forty minutes, do you think you could handle being with me until then?"
He sighed deeply, turning to look away from you.
"Could you like, give me some time?"
You breathed out shakily, understanding what he was meaning to say.
"Okay."
Without another word, you opened the door and stepped out, leaving the keys and everything that you had with you back in the car. You understood that Namjoon needed to be alone for a while, and truth be told, you couldn't stand staying in the car anymore.
So with the first breath of fresh air that you took in, you let the tears fall, keeping your head low as you closed the door and walked to the other side of the road next to the bridge.
~
Ten minutes later, Namjoon got off of the phone with his mum. Although she was upset, she explained that after speaking with Namjoon's father who had noticed you being incredibly nervous to be meeting them for the first time, she realized that you speaking casually and oversharing was just because you were afraid.
After giving it some thought, Namjoon understood that it was only natural. He'd seen the way you couldn't sleep the night before because you'd been too scared to meet his parents, and instead of comforting you, he misunderstood your intentions and decided to take his anger out on you.
Maybe he just wanted everything to go smoothly. But at least now he could tell you that his mother didn't take it to heart. So, slipping his phone into his pocket, he opened the door of the car to call for you.
Frowning in confusion, Namjoon looked around for a few seconds in search of you, but he couldn't spot you anywhere. He walked towards the bridge so that he could have a better view, turning his head frantically in almost every direction, hoping that he'd catch sight of you.
"(Y/n)?!"
He immediately reached for his phone to call you, but you didn't answer his phone. He gulped anxiously, suddenly realizing that it was too late for you to be out alone. He walked back to your side of the car to take the keys out and lock the door when he noticed your phone on your seat.
"Shit," he cursed under his breath, grabbing both your phone and the keys before slamming the door shut, turning first to the left and then to the right side of the highway. Which way should he take? You couldn't have gone too far, but he could lose you if he took the wrong way.
"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," he mumbled to himself, deciding to go left because it was in the opposite direction of the car. You could've walked that way so that Namjoon wouldn't notice you. He touched his forehead with fingers that were trembling, his eyes glossing over with tears of fear.
"I'm so sorry, please be safe."
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Kim Seokjin:
"I don't understand why you're getting so worked up about this? Like - it's my kitchen too! I can cook what I want and when I want to? Why did you have to go and tell Yoongi to 'drive some sense' into me? What is actually wrong with you?"
"I can't believe you right now," you groaned in frustration.
"I have absolutely no problem with you cooking, Jin! The problem is that you cook like we're cooking for an entire army and then the food goes to waste! You keep saying you're cooking for the boys and then you leave the food back - which you don't even put in the fridge by the way - and then by the time we're both back home from work, the food is spoilt and stinking!"
"Why are you so bothered about it?" He yelled, raising a hand in question.
"Because I pay for the groceries, Jin!"
"Then get your hands off of it! For God's sake," Jin banged his hand on the steering wheel, "I didn't think I'd get married to a mother who never stops nagging! Sometimes I just wish you would shut up!"
"You know what? I will. I thought you'd be mature enough and at least listen to me!"
"(Y/n)," he sighed, clearing his throat and holding a hand up. "Don't give me that shit. I've been listening to you for the past few years. I'm tired of it now, okay? Just... stop. Please, give me a break."
"We're supposed to work through this, Jin."
"Well, I don't want to, okay?" He snapped, turning briefly to glare at you.
"Stop nagging me like a mother!"
"Then stop behaving like a stubborn brat!" You screamed back at him.
Jin's jaw clenched in fury, driving in absolute silence for a few seconds before he reached for the indicator. He stopped the car at the side of the road, unlocking your side of the door and pointing towards it.
"Get out."
"Why should I?"
"Get out of my car, (Y/n). If you think you're so great and mighty, find your own way back home. I can't stand being with you."
"How could you be so insensitive?" You asked him in disbelief, the sun that was streaming in through the window beginning to burn the skin of your arm.
"We're almost home! Just drive back without a fuss, will you?"
"No, I won't. I don't want to be with you right now. Please, just get out."
"Jin," you gasped. "Why are you doing this?"
"Just get out already before I say something that I regret!" He exploded, leaving you dumbfounded. A sudden wave of anger overcame you, opening the door in fury and stepping out.
"Screw you, Jin!"
Slamming the door as hard as you could, you began to walk away from the car, huffing in exasperation and holding a hand over your face to shield yourself from the scorching heat. The roar of the engine behind made you scoff, turning back to see Jin taking off without a second thought.
~
The screech of the tires over the ground of the basement made Jin wince, aggravating the dull headache that he'd been experiencing due to the heat. After parking the car, Jin reached over to take his sunglasses and wallet from the glove compartment, when he noticed a small carton of an ORS in the corner along with a sweet that you had kept in there.
A sudden wave of concern washed over Jin, realizing that you hadn't eaten lunch because of the fight that had taken place and you'd even left the drink and the chocolate back that you'd normally carry with you on a sunny day in case you felt dizzy.
Jin played with his lip, deep in thought. He reached home in 7 minutes, and the walk back home was around twenty minutes from where he'd left you. Without any hesitation, Jin turned the car back on, driving out of the basement of the apartment complex in search of you.
It frustrated him even more that you weren't answering his calls, hoping that you'd decline his call in anger so that he'd at least know that you're okay and were conscious enough to respond that way. But it kept ringing until he reached the automated voice message that said that you were busy.
After driving around for fifteen minutes, Jin gave up and got out of his car to go looking for you on foot, with the ORS and the chocolate in his hand in case he'd find you sitting down in some place due to weakness.
"Shit, (Y/n)," he whispered dreadfully to himself, not knowing how to find you, overcome with worry and regret. Wiping away the sweat on his forehead, he bent forward and gripped his knees, trying to catch his breath.
He hoped you'd be fine. Even if you would be mad at him for the way he spoke to you, he just hoped you'd be safe and alright until he finds you.
"I'm such an idiot."
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Min Yoongi:
Yoongi had been sitting alone in his car for the past twenty minutes, silently cursing himself for behaving so horribly with you. His hair was a mess from the number of times he'd pulled at it in frustration, alternating between resting his head on the steering wheel and cringing at himself and then throwing his head back against the seat to yell out in frustration.
"I'm so glad no paparazzi saw us! I don't want to be seen with you! And even if they did, who would ever think I'll date someone like you?"
To top it off, when you had suggested giving him his space, he agreed and asked you to get out of his car. You did, of course. But you didn't leave. He watched you walk away from the car and sit on the pavement of the road, waiting for him to blow off his steam. But he had to - he just had to - drive off, leaving you stranded and alone.
He regretted it not even a minute after he started driving, but his anger didn't let him turn back. So he continued driving until the words that he had spat at your face finally made sense to him.
How could he have said that to you?
Yoongi really hated that quality about himself. He knew people's weaknesses and he also knew when and exactly how to use it against them when he was blinded by anger. But never had he regretted doing what he did more than he did now, sitting alone in his car after driving around the entire evening with no sign of you.
You'd turned your phone off, and he couldn't find you in any of the places that you usually go to. He called the boys and asked them if you'd gone there, but they all said no. He had even made a trip back home in case you chose to go there, but you didn't.
So, with tears in his eyes, he decided to send you a message, knowing that even when you'd turn your phone back on, you wouldn't answer his call. But he needed you to know what he had to say.
(9:46 PM) Yoongi: Darling, I'm so sorry. I've been looking for you everywhere, but I can't find you. Please, at least tell me you're alright. I don't even mind the 'seen' under this message, as long as I know you're safe and you're reading this.
(9:50 PM) Yoongi: I didn't mean what I said, I was just...so angry. I know it's a horrible excuse, but I swear, I was only angry.
(9:51 PM) Yoongi: What you told me this afternoon surprised me so much. Never did I ever expect you to have a history with Namjoon, and the fact that I didn't know about this hurt me even more. It made me insecure, I guess. I don't know. But I really could only think about why you didn't tell me this as soon as we started dating.
(9:55 PM) Yoongi: Please, believe me, I didn't mean a single word that I said. I even hate myself for telling you to get out of the car. That was so low of me. I understand if you're hurt and you want to be away from me, but all I ask of you is to just tell me that you're okay. Please.
(10:01 PM) Yoongi: I want you to know that I love you.
(10:05 PM) Yoongi: Please, come back to me
Yoongi looked up at the night sky, feeling weak and anxious. He regretted speaking the way that he did with you. He wished he could turn back time and simply apologize to you as soon as he had spoken them, even if you would've given him the silent treatment or cursed at him or told him off, at least he'd be relieved that you were safe and in front of him.
Now he had no idea where to go. He needed to get to you, yet he didn't know how.
"I'm so sorry, darling."
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Jung Hoseok:
"I don't know, hyung!" Hoseok yelled out, frantic eyes looking around in panic. "She's not here!"
"Just calm down, she couldn't have gone far. Where did you leave her?" Seokjin tried to calm Hoseok down but he too was worried, although he tried not to show it.
Both Jin and Jimin tried to calm Hoseok down a few hours ago when the two of you were fighting over something as small as who'd cook the dinner that night, but it escalated within a matter of seconds and both the boys were flabbergasted when Hoseok started telling you things he shouldn't have.
It was only natural that Hoseok would feel anxious the way he was now, especially after telling Jin over the phone that he had kicked you out of the car on the way back home because you both had gotten into another fight, and now he couldn't find you.
"I stopped near this pharmacy, I thought she'd at least be safe and could catch a cab if she decided to go somewhere, but she's not here and the guy in the store said she walked to the opposite side of the street after buying a bottle of water from here."
"You little shit," Jin cursed Hoseok under his breath. "You could think of her safety but not about her feelings?"
"I do care about her," Hoseok defended himself with a deep frown. "I don't want her to get lost or hurt."
"What about the way you hurt her, Hoba?" Jin questioned him. "What about that?"
Hoseok sighed shakily, his gaze dropping to the floor. "It's all my fault."
"Damn right."
"I need to find her, hyung," Hoseok whispered into the phone. "It's getting late, I don't want her to be alone."
"What's on the opposite side of the street?" Jin asked.
"Uh..." Hoseok squinted, not being able to read the words on the store.
"Shit, I don't have my glasses."
"Hoba, just take a breath, okay? If you're not in the right state of mind, you'll not be able to find her. Just take a breath and think of where she could go."
"What if something's happened? She tried calling me after I left but I declined the call. What if she needed me?"
Jin fell silent on the other end of the phone. He looked over at Jimin helplessly who'd been listening to the conversation with a frown on his face. Jimin shrugged, not really knowing what to do.
"Wait there for a while and keep trying to call her. Jimin and I are coming, we'll look for her together."
Hoseok nodded wearily.
"Okay, hyung."
Sitting on his haunches, Hoseok gently wiped at the sweat that was forming over his upper lip, sighing sorrowfully and shaking his head in regret.
"You're talking as if I don't do anything in the house, (Y/n)! I pay the bills and I get you things that you like in the house - that are not cheap by the way! I wash the dishes after you cook dinner and make the kitchen into a literal war zone. And now you're telling me that I sit and do nothing?"
"That's because-"
"No. No, you're wrong. I work much harder than you, my job is physically demanding and you don't seem to even bother about how tired I get! You don't even work as much as I do so the least you could do is cook us a meal without making it into a big deal! Why are you being so ungrateful?"
Hoseok groaned, tugging forcefully at his hair and letting out a tiny yell into the distance. Would he ever be able to make it up to you? He wasn't too sure, but finding you was what he needed to do first.
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Park Jimin:
"You're not getting it, (Y/n)," Jimin shook his head adamantly. "I can't do that and you know it."
"You've been missing so many events and you get away with the excuse of your work, Jimin. Can't you just make it this time? I'm not even asking you for my sake, it's for your own daughter's annual day at school, Jimin. She'd feel so proud to see you in the audience."
"Look, I get what you're saying..." Jimin pursed his lips in concentration when he had to take a turn onto the highway. Looking around distractedly, Jimin scratched his eyebrow before looking at you.
"Uh... what was I saying?"
"You're not even serious about this," you rolled your eyes.
"My train of thought broke, (Y/n)," Jimin sighed. "You can't blame me for trying not to get us into an accident."
"I never said that at all."
"You didn't need to."
"Jimin, I- ugh," you groaned out loud, slapping your thighs in frustration. "You always do this! You always tell me you can't make it and I'm left to play the bad cop and break the news to our daughter that her father can't make it to someplace she wants him to be at the most!"
"You don't even understand this, do you?" He turned to look at you.
"Do you even understand that I am a part of a band? That if I don't be present during a show, how big of a deal it would be? It's not just me but my managers and staff - including the members - would have to make up an excuse for my absence. It's not just a few kid's parents who would wonder where my child's father is, it will be the whole world questioning me, (Y/n)."
"Right," you nodded, turning to look outside the window. "As if being present in your daughter's life is not big enough of a reason."
"I am present," his voice rose slightly. "What are you trying to say?"
"So you really haven't been listening to what I've been trying to say."
"Can you stop telling me I've not been listening? I am, but I'm not getting your point because it makes no sense!"
"Arguing with you is pointless, Jimin."
"Then why do you even start speaking?"
"Because, Jimin!" You threw your hands up into the air, looking across at him incredulously.
"How are you not even understanding what I'm trying to say? I just want you to come for your own daughter's annual day and not some random stranger and you can't even do that! Why should I always be the one to tell her that you can't come? Why do I always have to hear her tell me how much she hates me because she's upset you're not there?!"
"You're overreacting," Jimin scoffed. "Okay, fine, I'll tell her this time, alright? Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted?"
"For fuck's sake." You closed your eyes, shaking your head at how difficult Jimin was being.
"There's no need to curse, (Y/n). Stop behaving that way."
"I can't stand you, Jimin," you muttered under your breath.
Jimin looked at you for a moment, feeling hurt by your words. Nodding to himself, he stopped the car by the side of the road, pointing out and gesturing for you to step out of the car.
"Go ahead and get to your friend's place by yourself. If you can't stand me then there's no need for me to drive you there. Go."
"Jimin, what are-"
"Get going, (Y/n)."
You stared at him, feeling cornered under his burning gaze, nodding and deciding that you didn't have any more energy to argue with him. You took your bag and opened the door, slamming it shut and walking away without turning back.
~
"Thank you so much for this," Jimin whispered in a rush, placing his daughter who had fallen asleep on your friend's couch.
"No worries, should I come to help you look for (Y/n)?"
"No, no," he shook his head, sighing shakily and glancing down at his daughter. "Just stay with her until we come to get her back. Thank you once again."
"Anytime, Jimin. I hope you find her soon."
He nodded, walking out of the door. "Yeah, me too."
Jimin had given you a call as soon as he picked his daughter up from school, but you didn't answer, so he'd let it be thinking you were upset with him. But then your friend rang him up asking him why you hadn't reached her place yet, and that's when Jimin got worried.
He did leave you in the middle of the road, and he took it for granted that you'd be fine and safe as soon as he left. But now it had been five hours with no sign of you, while your phone was out of reach for the last two.
To say that Jimin was afraid would be an understatement. The look on his daughter's face when she had fallen asleep had made him feel incredibly emotional, and the fact that he didn't know where you were and if you were fine drove him crazy.
So with one last look at the window behind which his baby was sleeping, Jimin walked back to his car, wiping away the first tear that fell from his eyes.
"Please be safe, (Y/n). Wherever you are, I hope you're safe."
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Kim Taehyung:
"How could you make this big of a decision without telling me, (Y/n)?" Taehyung yelled across at you who were equally frustrated.
"Taehyung, this is my life. If I decided to buy that house, then you shouldn't be questioning me. And I've been working hard every year and it's not like I've not told you I won't be buying up a place. This has been my plan all along."
Taehyung looked at you in disbelief. "Your life?"
"Yes, Taehyung."
"So I'm nothing to you?" He turned back to the road, his jaw clenching.
"Don't put words in my mouth. I never said that."
"It goes unsaid, (Y/n)!" He exclaimed, exasperated.
"This situation would only be normal if I was nothing to you! How could you even make such a huge decision without me knowing?"
"It's not like I'm moving right away," you replied, shaking your head at him. His eyes widened comically, raising a hand up in question.
"That's... not even the point? Whether you're moving in three hours or three months, the problem is that you bought a house without me knowing. And it's not even in the state, for heaven's sake! Did you not think about us when you bought the house?"
"It was a great deal, Taehyung," you sighed. "I wouldn't have found a flat at a cheaper rate if I had waited longer."
"So you're fine with us doing long distance? With the kind of work both you and I have? You'll move out of our place?" He inquired urgently.
"Why are you thinking so much? We have a lot of time to sort all of this out."
"I can't help but wonder, (Y/n)," his voice cracked, looking into your eyes with tears glistening in his own. "I don't want us to break up, and I can't help but feel like you don't feel the same anymore."
"That's not true," you disagreed, avoiding his eye. "But just like how you've made your life and lived your dreams, I want to do that too, Taehyung. I want to live...too."
"When did I ever stop you?" Taehyung asked you.
"What do you think you're doing right now?" You questioned with a raised eyebrow.
He fell silent, eyes trembling and looking straight at the road in front of him.
"You think I'm stopping you from living your dream?" He whispered dreadfully. "Is that why you didn't tell me about this?"
You looked away.
Taehyung breathed in sharply, feeling threatened and hurt. Pulling the car over at the side of the road, Taehyung got out of the car and walked to your side of the car. Opening the door, he wordlessly unbuckled your seatbelt and tugged at your hand until you were standing up.
"Go."
"Where?" You whispered.
"Go live your dreams. Do what you want. If I'm stopping you in any way, I'm not the right person for you. I'd rather be alone than be a person you can't even share this big achievement of your life with, (Y/n)."
"Taehyung..."
"No. I can't believe I've made you keep something this big away from me, only because you feel like I will stop you. You're free to go do what you need to do."
You caught his hand for a moment but he slipped it out of your grip with a shake of his head.
"Just...go."
~
"(Y/n)... I don't know where you've gone, but please, call me back, please. I'm sorry, okay? I won't stop you from doing anything, I promise. I just want to know where you are, and if you're safe. Let me see you once, please. Just...call me back. I love you."
Taehyung sat on the swing after looking for you for the past four hours, not knowing what went wrong. He thought you would've gone back to your parent's house, but you didn't. He called all of your friends and his but neither of them had seen you. Taehyung even went to the extent of walking to every shop that you usually buy things from, but everyone told Taehyung that you hadn't come by today.
To say Taehyung was not afraid would be a big lie. He feared that you had left the state to the house you had recently bought, and the fact that you weren't answering your phone made his heart race in regret. He couldn't bear to let you leave just like that. Not without seeing you, not without holding you and telling you just how much he loves you.
Wiping away his tears, his eyes kept running over the digits under your name on his phone, desperately hoping that you'd call him back. he just needed to know that you were alright.
"I'm so sorry, (Y/n)."
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Jeon Jungkook:
"Jungkook, don't do that!" Namjoon gasped from the backseat of the car, reaching over to catch Jungkook's collar before he could get out of the car, but Jungkook was faster.
He sprinted across to the passenger side of the car, opening your door and pulling you out of the car.
"Just... go."
"Jungkook-" Namjoon got out of the car as well. "Just calm down for a second, will you?"
"I cannot stand her anymore, hyung!" Jungkook exploded. "I've had enough!"
"It's okay, Namjoon," you nodded assuringly in Namjoon's direction. "I understand."
"No," he shook his head, grabbing Jungkook by the arm who was fuming with anger.
"Get your act straight, boy. Right this instant!"
"Hyung, please don't ask me to stop. I cannot. I just cannot anymore!" He finished with a yell in your direction.
The cars in the distance were a mere blur, the three of you rendered silent with heavy puffs of breath escaping Jungkook's mouth. He continued to shoot you cold glares which you kept avoiding in guilt.
"You've crossed every fucking line this time, (Y/n)!" Jungkook screamed, reaching you in a single step and shoving an accusing finger in your face.
Namjoon walked closer to the two of you, squeezing his way in between you and Jungkook and holding a hand up against Jungkook's chest.
"Back off, Jungkook."
"She needs to back off," Jungkook's eyes never left yours. "She needs to back the fuck out of my life. I'm done with her."
"Jungkook!"
"It's alright, Namjoon," you simply pulled at his t-shirt. "I don't blame him"
"Get in the car, hyung," Jungkook seethed. "Please! Don't treat me like a child this time. Let me handle this."
"Not if you're not handling it properly."
"It's okay, Namjoon," you murmured, pushing him out of the way. He looked down at you desperately. "It's alright."
"You sure?"
"Mhm," you nodded, hoping to keep up your strong front until he went back in. "I'll be fine."
"Right," Jungkook scoffed lightly. Namjoon looked conflicted, but he touched your arm tenderly before nodding.
"I'm only a call away."
A soft smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "I know."
And just like that, Jungkook had Namjoon in the car within a few seconds, the tires screeching over the road before the car took off, leaving you in a place you had no idea how to get out of.
~
"You're a fucking jerk," Namjoon cursed at Jungkook, who sat quietly after they'd parked the car outside of the company building. "She was being honest with you and that's how you treat her? Do you have any idea how difficult it must have been to open up to you?"
"Being honest at what cost, hyung? I'd rather have had her not tell me this at all!"
"Don't you think that she might've not been able to keep it from you any longer? That maybe she trusts you enough to let you in on something that has been draining her with guilt and instead of comforting her, you kicked her out of your fucking car!"
Jungkook bit his lip, knowing that Namjoon was right somewhere down the line. Maybe he did overreact, but in his defense, even Jungkook needed some time to accept the weight of your admission.
"Should we look for her?"
"It's about time you came to your senses, boy."
~
Three hours in and never in his wildest dreams did Namjoon think he'd have to handle a devastated boy who just wouldn't stop bawling on the pavement of the road. They'd been looking all over, but to much dismay, neither of them could find you.
Three hours was also enough for Jungkook to finally realize the depth of the words that he had so easily spat at your face in a moment of anger, and there was no other word that could describe the fear that he felt in those moments.
"Hyung," Jungkook sobbed, grabbing his own knees pitifully. "Get her back to me, please!"
Namjoon sighed wearily, running a hand across the skin of his forehead and wiping away his sweat.
"I don't know where she could've gone, Jungkook."
"Oh god, no!" He wept, shaking his head frantically. "I need to tell her that I didn't mean anything that I said!"
"She'll be fine. Just wait for a while, Jungkook. Maybe she needs some time to clear her head."
"Fuck," Jungkook cursed in regret. "I'm such a jerk."
"Control yourself, Jungkook," Namjoon winced when Jungkook slapped himself across the face. "Stop that!"
"I need to see her! I need to tell her that I'm sorry, hyung! Help me!"
With tears pricking his own eyes, Namjoon turned away and ran a hand through his messy hair.
"She'll come back when she's ready, Jungkook."
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youtifulhobi · 1 month
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The Last Train [PJM]
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➴ Pairing: reader x Park Jimin (platonic; familial) | WC: 1.7k | Genre: angst, h/c | Rating: G (general)
➴ Warnings: grieving/grief; major character death (already happened prior to story; death is just the main theme of this fic), death (obviously)
➴ Tags: death, grief, hurt/comfort, train conductor!jimin, train!conductor reader, grandfather!jimin, grandchild!reader [gender neutral], major character death
➴ Summary: Upon the end of your grandfather's life, you seek closure and begin a life without him.
➴ Author's note: this is a very personal story. I lost my grandparent six months ago and it's all been downhill from there, but it's time for me to get up off the floor. I understand that not everyone grieves the same way I do (namely to put it into writing and publish it), but this was also written for anyone who's lost a loved one and needs comfort. Please don't yell at me for not writing something a certain way -- this was written as a form of self-comfort and serves as a goodbye to my grandparent. NOT BETA READ.
Based off the poem The Train of My Life by  Jean d'Ormesson.
Do not redistribute or plagiarise on any other platforms (including but not limited to wattpad, youtube, instagram, facebook).  I only use tumblr and AO3 as of the time of posting.  If I find my work plagiarised or redistributed without consent, I will not hesitate to take legal action.
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“It’s been a pleasure, fellow Conductor.” a voice sounds near your ear, warm and comforting.
You swivel in your chair to find a familiar figure standing near the sliding door, hands clasped together in front of him. 
“What do you mean?” you ask, not bothering to hide the quaking in your voice. 
“I mean that my stop is next. That we’ll be arriving at my station soon, and it’s time for me to go.” A sad smile mars an elderly gentleman’s face, shattering the peaceful façade. 
Tears well up in your eyes and you pull the brakes as hard as you can, unwilling to go even a metre further. The train screeches to a halt, wheels groaning against the metal tracks as sparks fly from the friction between the two.
“No,” you say firmly, shaking your head. “No, I won’t let you go.”
His smile widens further, but his eyes offer a glimpse into his true emotions. He hurts as much as you, if not more. He’s known you since you were still in your mother’s stomach, after all. Has fought for you, loved you, since the moment he learned of your existence. Has sheltered you, raised you, nurtured you, laughed with you, and wiped your tears away when you were sad.
“Grandpa, please,” you beg. “Just a little more time. Just a few minutes. That’s all I ask.”
“But a few minutes will turn into more, and then we’ll be at a standstill, my dear,” he says gently. “When it comes to those we love, even forever isn’t enough.”
Your lower lip trembles as you fight to keep a sob from escaping. He’s not wrong. In fact, that’s precisely why it feels like your heart is entrapped in a vice-like grip. “Please don’t leave me.”
“My little one,” he says simply, eyes shining with unshed tears as he lifts his arms. You don’t hesitate, crossing the short distance between you in two bounds and into his embrace. “My sweet, beautiful, kind-hearted little bird.”
He strokes your hair lovingly as you press your face into the polo shirt he loves to wear at home, the piqué fabric greedily soaking up your tears.
You hold his waist with one hand, the other resting on his back as you return the embrace. He continues to soothe you, whispering while he waits for you to collect yourself. 
“You can’t leave yet, grandpa,” you mumble into his chest. “I haven’t finished honouring my familial duties to you.”
“What do you mean by that?” he asks.
“I treated you horribly when I was a teenager. I flung your hand away every time you reached for it. I said things I wish I never said, but can’t take back. I wished terrible things on you when I thought you were being unfair. I even wished for your—”
“My little bird,” he says again, lifting your chin to meet your eyes. You look away, unable to meet his gaze. “Look at grandpa. Please.”
You do as you’re told.
“We have all done things we regret in life. Grandpa has never once blamed you for anything you did. Ah-ah,” he starts when you begin to protest. “I don’t want to hear it. You are my beloved grandchild. I don’t hold it against you. I never have, and never will, even for a second. We are all foolish when we are teenagers. You do, you regret, you learn from your mistakes, you move on. This is what grandpa has taught you. Do you remember?”
You nod meekly, tears continuing to flow down your cheeks.
“Grandpa loves you. And you love grandpa. This is what is truly important. Your actions spoke louder than your words. I know you loved me then, and you love me even more now. You have grown so much, and I am very proud of you. I know you did not truly mean what you said then. We never do when we are emotional, and you were quite angry during your teenage years, weren’t you?”
You flush at the memories that arise from his words. He chuckles lightheartedly. “Forgive an old man for his cheekiness.”
“Anything for you,” you reply simply. He beams at that, his smile wider than it has been in a long time. 
“And that, my little bird, is what I mean when I say you have a heart of gold. You have always been kind. Kind to a fault, really. You forgive and forget when you should only forgive, and people have taken advantage of your gentle nature. You are too sweet. You must learn to protect yourself. Be kind, but have a backbone. Bite back when you need to. Being magnanimous does not equate being a doormat. Be like grandpa.”
A fresh wave of grief washes over you, and you cling to him like it’s the last thing you’ll be able to do.
He rests his head on top of yours, blinking back the evidence of his own anguish as he swallows hard. It hurts him just as much to leave you, if not more, but with his earthly duties finished, he has no choice but to leave.
“There’s so much more I wanted to do with you,” you say sadly. “I just got my memories back, and you’re…I mean, our journey is ending. I wanted to reminisce with you more and ask you advice like you always wanted me to do and—”
Your voice quivers and breaks as denial finally breaks its hold over you. Your grandfather is leaving, his story continuing only through the legacy he’s left on this earth, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. No amount of begging, holding, pleading, or wails of agony will delay his departure, even if you both desperately want him to stay with you.
Your grandfather tucks a finger under your chin to peer at your face and smiles bitterly, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. You bite your lower lip, vision blurring as you sniffle. 
“I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything that’s happened in the past,” you hear him say. “The past is in the past. What’s important is how we move on from our mistakes and learn from them.”
He brings your attention to a digital clock that has begun counting down the time you have left. 15 minutes. 14:57.
You blink. 13:53. That can’t be right. You can’t have wasted one minute just staring at the bright red numbers instead of memorising every last centimetre of your grandfather’s face. No matter. You’ll regret it later. You have to make the most of what’s left.
Steeling your resolve, you pull back in your grandfather’s embrace and look at him determinedly, furrowing your eyebrows. He lets out a laugh at something only he can see, and you feel the corners of your lips quirk up at his infectious joy. You think your grandfather is the most perfect human being to exist, albeit having his flaws. He has helped countless people over the course of his life, giving advice, comfort, and financial assistance to those who needed it. He made mistakes and bumbled his way through life at times, but never once did he let his mistakes hold him back. 
He taught you to keep moving forward, even if it felt like the sky was crumbling.
You spend the rest of the time you have holding him close, murmuring your innermost thoughts and listening to his voice, not noticing when he leans over to the control panel and disengages the brakes, allowing the train to begin moving forward again.
It is only when a gentle chime sounds, echoing throughout the train, and a pre-recorded voice announces that the train has arrived at the last station that you realise your time is up.
Fresh tears well in your eyes when your grandfather squeezes your hand tightly, tugging you along to the door. Mutely, you follow him and step off the train, wrinkling your eyebrows when you see a new train on the opposite side of the platform. 
“That’s your train, little bird,” your grandfather says. “Your journey with me is over, and it’s time to take control of your own train. It has followed you the whole time you were on mine. You have a life to live, a train of yours to drive. You will have passengers that get on and get off. You may promote some to co-conductors and demote them. This is all part of the train of life.”
He pulls you to him, holding you so tight that you can’t breathe, but releases you after a moment. “Fly free, my little bird. When it’s your time, I will be waiting at your station to welcome you home.”
Tears spill over and follow a pre-ordained path down your face as you step off your grandfather’s train and onto your own. It feels wrong, but you know it’s the right thing to do. You must move on, no matter how difficult it is.
The doors are closing. Please step back. You listen to the disembodied announcer and watch, smiling through your tears, as your grandfather-less train begins to move and leave his station. His waving form grows smaller and smaller, until nothing but the darkness of a tunnel surrounds the train. You’ve officially left him behind.
Letting out a long exhale, you wipe your eyes and your nose before entering your conductor’s cabin, where you freeze.
On one of the chairs lies a framed photo of you and your grandfather, with a note on top that reads: 
To my precious little bird. I could have never asked for a better grandchild. Even if I could spend eternity with you, it would still not be enough. You are my pride and joy. Finish your duties thoroughly and leave as few regrets as possible. Do not rush through them to find me. I am an important but not the only part of your life. You still have much to look forward to. I love you. See you soon. 
As you read the second last line of his letter, your train exits the tunnel into a beautifully sunny field with his favourite flowers lining either side of the meadow. 
Momentarily blinded, you hold a hand to shield your face and squint against the sudden onslaught of light before turning your attention to the last line of the letter he left you.
Love, Grandpa (Park Jimin).
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MList
“The Last Train [PJM]” is © copyright @youtifulhobi​ 2024, all rights reserved.
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clumsy-jiminie · 21 days
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ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ | ᴘᴊᴍ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ
 ❝ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ ʜᴜʀᴛꜱ ❞
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↣ summary :: Kiara Smith had dreamed of true love for as long as she could remember. from being obsessed with the Disney princesses who found affection in the strangest situations to dressing up as a bride from kindergarten to fourth grade. it was the only thing she ever truly desired, so much so that a pleasant smile and kind eyes could have her smitten in seconds. right when she thought she found the one, a chance encounter with Park Jimin—the city’s famously perfect fuck boy with a smile so warm and a heart of ice—has her feeling quite the opposite. he knocks her off her axis and derails her life as she knows it, yet the universe seems to have another plan for the two.
↣ rating :: 18+
↣ genre :: fluff, angst, smut, e2l, slow burn
↣ pairing :: business owner!jimin x fem!artist!oc ft. taehyung
↣ word count :: 3.8k
↣ chapter warnings :: mature language, public displays of affection, angst with resolve, mentions of anxiety, ⚠️ verbal abuse - light but still not ok ⚠️
↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢
if you have any questions, comments, or concerns PLEASE don't hesitate to message me or send me an ask! my inbox is always open. 💖
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"yeah, I got issues, and one of them is how bad I need you."
-  ɪꜱꜱᴜᴇꜱ, ᴊᴜʟɪᴀ ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟꜱ -
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It only took a few days before everything returned to normal between the couple. No apology was issued, but they continued as if the argument had never happened. That's how things typically were with the two. Arguments would always fade away without them talking any further about it. It wasn't something Kiara particularly enjoyed, but after trying to talk things out, it would only result in restarting the cycle; she settled for his method instead. It kept them both happy in the end, anyway. At least, that's what she thought. The conversation would always sit with her a bit longer than him. So, while he was normal, touching her and smiling, she had to force herself to keep up the facade. It was tiring but a better outcome than arguing all over again.
Kiara stared at her phone while slowly pushing the shopping cart through the aisle. Her arms rested against the cart's bar, leaning against it comfortably as she looked through the notes on her phone. It was chore day, and chore day also meant grocery shopping day. Usually, she would love to take her time through the store and hopefully find some exciting snacks, but she couldn't wait to get home. She was in the middle of her last piece for her latest collection. The blush pinks, baby blues, and teals were so pretty to her, reminding her of babies and how she wanted a family of her own one day. Three bundles of joy and absolute chaos running around made her excited. She sighed softly, straightening out her spine before feeling gentle resistance. Her brows drew together before she felt slight pressure against her backside.
"Taehyung," she sighed despite the small smile forming on her lips. His hand, placed firmly on her hip, kept her in place as they walked.
"Mm, what?" He responded lazily, eyes fixated on the view of her golden skin peeking out from under her cropped hoodie. The black leggings she wore were no help either. The fabric became so thin when she bent over, stretching to accommodate her round ass. He could almost see the outline of her thong. 
"What are you doing?"
"Appreciating my girlfriend. What did you think?"
"Oh, I don't know...." She stopped suddenly, halting Taehyung as well. His hips pressed into hers, causing him to bite down on his lower lip briefly. "Someone may think you're trying to start something in public." Taehyung hummed as his mind was far from his current reality, somewhere in a realm where public indecency wouldn't get you fined. He returned back to Earth when Kiara decided to turn around and face him. She tilted her head back, looking up at him as she bit back the smirk that desperately wanted to spread on her lips. "You do know we're in public, right?" The sass that fell from her lips only made Taehyung wish to play more. He rested both of his hands on the cart behind her, essentially caging her in.
If there was one thing she could do all day, it was look at Taehyung. He was so gorgeous. Model worthy. Even as he had his round-framed silver glasses resting on his straight nose, she wanted nothing more than his lips on her.
"Nope," he grinned.
"Dangerous."
"You love it." He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, causing her to inhale deeply. Her hands rested on his chest before sliding up to meet behind his neck. Warmth spread through Kiara's system despite them being in the freezer aisle. One of his hands left the cart to rest against her back, pulling her in closer.
"Uh, we're gonna need a clean-up on aisle 14." A familiar voice suddenly rang through Kiara's ears, causing her to pull away from her boyfriend. She glanced around before meeting with the owner of the voice, a smile forming on her lips. "It looks like someone wet themselves," Momo teased the girl with a playful smirk.
"You're so lame!" Hoseok heckled while he reached into the freezer, chuckling softly.
"You knew this, and you're still choosing to marry me," Momo stuck her tongue out at the man, who did the same to her. Afterward, she directed her attention to Kiara. "But seriously, you should really get a room." She placed her hand on her chest as she leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "There are children around!"
"Fuck them kids," Taehyung quickly said as he wrapped his arms around Kiara. He leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder. "They gotta learn about the birds and the bees somehow."
"Taehyung, you disgust me," Momo scowled. The man winked at her, and Momo recoiled as if he had reached out to touch her. Hoseok then returned, tossing some frozen fruit pops into the cart.
Kiara's eyebrows furrowed as she scanned over the couple's cart. There were some colorful party plates, cups, hats, and napkins. There were also a few bags of chips and liters of various sodas. "You guys having a party or something?" She asked while resting her hands on Taehyung's arms.
"One of our students is turning eight today!" Hoseok beamed as if it was his child.
"She's the absolute cutest, and she's going to go far. Right, Hobi?" Momo added, gleaming as well.
Hoseok quickly nodded. "Yep, AIM has itself its first prodigy."
Taehyung furrowed his brows as he stood up. "AIM? Is that...."
"Art In Motion! The dance studio we work at!" Momo answered. Taehyung made a small o with his mouth, slowly nodding his head.
"It's not like they don't talk about it all the time," Kiara teased, earning a squeeze from him.
"You guys should come in sometime!" Momo said before walking over to one of the freezers. "We teach duets on some days."
Kiara quickly shook her head. "You know damn well I don't dance."
"I know you don't dance sober," Momo side-eyed her, causing the girl to roll her eyes.
"Yeah, I was about to say; I know a certain dance you do, but it's only when you come back from bottomless mimosas," Taehyung grinned, earning an elbow to his rib. "Don't hurt me because I'm right!" The group laughed together before bidding their farewells. Kiara grabbed the cart once more to continue on their shopping adventure.
"So, Tae...," Kiara drawled as she trailed behind the man. He hummed while looking at an item on the shelves, encouraging her to continue. "I was looking at houses out here, which are really expensive. Do we have to move out this year?"
"Do you want that ring?" He responded as he tossed the item into the cart. Her eyes went wide as her heart sunk into her chest. She assumed that was why she wasn't engaged yet, but to have him say it so casually. To have him say it as if it was something she had to earn. She could hear her best friends yelling at her to leave him, to turn around and not look back.
But she loved him.
"Taehyung!" A man suddenly called out, ripping his attention away from Kiara. Both of them turned to look at the interruption. A smile formed on Taehyung's lips while Kiara's eyes narrowed. Directly ahead of them was none other than Jimin. Kiara huffed, trying to pry her eyes away from the man, but she couldn't for some reason, maybe because it was the first time she'd seen him dressed down—sporting a dark purple hoodie with a denim jacket over it and a pair of black sweatpants that slimmed to a cuff around his ankle. His hair looked messy despite him trying to hide it under his hood—fluffy blonde strands sticking out like he had just rolled out of bed and decided not to style it. How could one look just as good dressed down?
"You stalking me, Jimin?" The brunette teased as he went in to hug the man.
"For fucks sake," Kiara sighed before her eyes went wide. Taehyung shot her a warning glare, making her muscles stiffen as she looked down at the linoleum floor. She was usually good at keeping her thoughts to herself. 
Jimin looked at Kiara for the first time today, and his eyebrows piqued in interest. Was it wrong to be lusting over a man's girlfriend right in front of him, especially when you're trying to rekindle a relationship with said man? Yes, yes it was. He possessed enough self-control not to react physically but couldn't deny that she looked good. She had an impeccable style. Even when she dressed down, she stole the room. Instead, he feigned an eye roll. He wanted to do nothing but push those buttons of hers and watch her eyes be set ablaze with fire. But he wouldn't be able to handle that switch to fondness whenever she eventually looked at Taehyung, at least not today. He peeled his eyes away from the girl to look at the brunette, a warm smile forming on his lips. "Isn't it funny how small the world becomes after bumping into each other once?"
"Oh, it's hilarious," Kiara mumbled quietly this time, sarcasm dripping from her words. Boy, she wasn't making it easy for Jimin. He had a thousand and one remarks for her sassy little quip, but he'll save those for another day. 
The two men proceeded to catch up while Kiara focused on anything besides the blonde before her. Honestly, what were the odds? There are a million different grocery stores on Long Island alone, and this is the one he chooses? It hasn't even been a week since their little dinner encounter. The universe wanted to see some drama in her life as if she didn't have enough. What the universe needed to do was send signs to the tall blockhead so she could get proposed to before selling her soul for a house. 
As much as she loved that Taehyung was reconnecting and making new friends, she didn't want to spend another second in this vicinity. Jimin's aura was sickeningly addictive. He oozed charisma, and it pissed her off that she wanted to have a conversation with him, to be included. She stared at the back of Taehyung's head, eyes sensing daggers in hopes he turned around. Instead, her amber eyes locked with the blonde's. His eyes flickered up and down subtly before a mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of his plump lips. He looked away, assumingly giving Taehyung his full attention once again. Kiara's brows furrowed. What was that look for? Did he think he had a one-up on her?
Enough was enough.
Kiara stepped forward, nudging Taehyung with the cart. He suddenly stopped talking, pausing momentarily before looking at her. "Babe, can we go? I'm getting a little tired." She lied through her teeth, her voice as sweet as candy. She had to pull out all the cards to pull Taehyung away from this so-called friend. What if Jimin was using Taehyung now to get some sick inside scoop on her? She couldn't have that.
"In a minute, I just want to smooth out these details for the next guys night." His voice was colder than the freezer aisle they were just in. He turned back around, fully facing Jimin again. 
She sighed in defeat. She knew Taehyung meant no harm, but each second near Jimin felt like an hour. Kiara had no idea what this man was capable of, and that devilish, slick tongue only made things worse. She quickly glanced away, hoping to find anything she could fiddle with as a minor distraction. Touching random food items seemed too obvious, so she opted for her cell phone. She pulled it out, sending a quick text to the group chat.
Kiara: guess who just pulled up to your local grocery store Kiara: it's your favorite person kookie Jeongguk: JUSTIN BIEBER??? Jeongguk: drop the address NOW Samira: you're an idiot
Kiara pressed her lips in a line, holding back a smile.
Kiara: no it's the blonde from the coffee shop Kiara: I hate it here Jeongguk: do me a favor and throw your shoe at him Jeongguk: specifically the left one Jeongguk: the right one won't do Samira: I second Samira: why the left one tho Jeongguk: so he'll be surprised when I get him with this right hook
Kiara burst into a quiet fit of laughter, using her hand to cover her mouth. She loved her best friends dearly. While she giggled, Taehyung's and Jimin's ears perked up like a dog hearing the word walk, although both for different reasons. 
Taehyung couldn't help but glance at his partner, seeing a wide grin on her lips as her fingers typed away on her phone. Something flared up inside of him, triggering him. It was the same feeling he had from the other night. He couldn't run away this time, so he had to sit with the heavy feeling in his chest and tensed muscles.
Jimin also looked, but he felt something in his chest from the sight. Something warm. Something that made him want to spread his lips and mimic that smile. He couldn't put his finger on it and didn't think he wanted to. He couldn't have that. It felt familiar, and familiarity needed to stay in a locked box in the deepest corner of his mind. Despite it, his eyes twinkled as a mischievous smirk played on his lips. He returned his gaze to Taehyung. "You know, one of my friends is having a game night later in the week. You should definitely come through."
Taehyung's met his eyes, and he pushed down whatever feeling was bubbling in his chest as he smiled at the man. "Definitely! That sounds like fun!"
Kiara was too busy giggling at the messages she received to pay attention to the plans that were made aloud. It wasn't until she felt eyes on her. It made her uneasy, a chill running down her spine as she looked up. Jimin's evil eyes met hers.
"You should bring Kiara along too," Jimin suggested while his eyes remained glued to the girl.
Kiara glared at the blonde. "I would rather jump off the Manhattan Bridge."
Taehyung's eyes went wide, shooting her a look. That look. Kiara couldn't help but cringe, feeling herself shrink into her shoes as she looked down at the ground.
"She'd love to come," Taehyung responded, returning his gaze to Jimin. "We'll be there."
Kiara's head shot up, sending daggers into the back of Taehyung's head. If looks could kill, both men would be casualties right now.
Jimin grinned at the other. "Great! I'll see you then!"
As they bid their farewells, Kiara subtly flipped the blonde off. All Jimin did was smirk playfully, winking at her in response. The girl shivered with disgust. 
After he left, the couple was silent for the rest of their trip. Kiara couldn't understand why Taehyung would think she would want to attend any event with Jimin. She ranted to the man about their horrible first impression and how he ruined her favorite hoodie. Kiara didn't want to fake nice for hours on end; one, it was draining as hell, and two, that prick didn't deserve it. They paid and exited the grocery store. A cloak of silence wrapped around them dropped once they approached Kiara's car. She huffed quietly, almost shaking her head out of pure disbelief. 
"I thought you couldn't stand him," she grumbled.
"I thought you wanted me to make more friends," he countered.
Kiara rolled her eyes, sighing softly as she regretted giving him that push. "I don't want to go to this thing, Tae," she admitted. "I don't even know why he invited me. He's your friend."
"Why can't he be our friend?" He asked while looking at the girl, meeting her eyes.
"I'm not friends with people who don't like me," she deadpanned. She started packing the groceries into the car, exceptionally cautiously placing the bags. She would hate if something got smushed or broken because she grew annoyed.
Taehyung watched as she did so, arms folding over his chest as he leaned against the car. "You don't know that."
"I'm pretty sure you don't call the people you like selfish."
Taehyung shrugged casually, "You got off on the wrong foot, so what? You don't think you could push past that or at least pretend to for me?"
Kiara froze briefly, pressing her lips together as she thought. It's for Taehyung. She would suffer a ten-hour flight full of crying babies for this man, but Jimin was just slightly more insufferable than that. She stopped loading the groceries to look at him. As she opened her mouth to answer, a text notification emitted from her pocket. She wasn't going to look at it, already knowing who it was, but she watched as Taehyung's demeanor changed. The corners of his lips pulled into a frown. He tensed as his eyes narrowed into slits. Before she could even process what was happening, he opened his mouth. All at once, he remembered why he fell silent earlier.
"Give me your phone."
"What?" She chuckled, completely bewildered. He had to be joking. Just two seconds ago, he asked her to play nice, and now this?
"I'm not gonna repeat myself." He held his large hand towards her, like a parent demanding something of their child.
She chuckled again, this time wholly filled with nerves. She instinctively gripped her phone in her hoodie pocket to protect him from the device. "Are you kidding? I'm not giving you my phone."
His eyes narrowed at the shorter girl, letting his hand fall back to his side. "Why? You got something to hide?" Kiara shook her head, opening her mouth to say something, but was promptly cut off. "I saw the way you were smiling at your phone earlier. You got some nasty shit from Jeongguk, huh?"
"What?" Her eyes widen for a moment before narrowing at her partner. "What the fuck are you on about?" Kiara tried keeping herself calm, paying close attention to the tone of her voice, but she thought the days when she had to defend the relationship with her best friend were over.
"Give me your fucking phone, Kiara!" He yelled. The bass in his voice startled her, depth moving straight to her heart and increasing the beat suddenly. She jerked as if someone hit her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as her breathing quickened. It happened all in an instant. She pulled out her phone and handed it to him without a thought. It was like her body was suddenly on autopilot.
He snatched the device from her, unlocking it without an issue. "I swear to god I do so much for you, for this fucking relationship, just for you to go behind my back and—" As he went through the text history with Jeongguk, all he saw was various memes from inside jokes, opinions of art going back and forth, and the occasional double text. Taehyung's jaw hung loosely briefly before quickly biting his lower lip. He even checked their group chat, but there was nothing besides Samira asking for help with Momo's wedding and the conversation he assumed she was laughing about. No, he couldn't be wrong. He knew what he saw. That smile.... There's no way he could've been wrong. There had to be something, anything, to prove her infidelity. 
But there was nothing.
Taehyung locked Kiara's phone as the silence sat on them like a bag of bricks. He slowly looked at the girl, seeing tears brimming in her warm eyes of amber. Shit, he thought to himself. She was shivering, and he was sure it wasn't from the cold weather. Her chest was heaving like she just finished running a marathon.
"Ki...," his voice softened, barely above a whisper.
"No," she whimpered right before her throat decided to shut. Tears fell from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. She turned from him, loading up the rest of the car with haste. She tried not to make a sound apart from the occasional whimper that slipped past her trembling lips. 
Taehyung sighed quietly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watched her. "Kiara, please...," he pleaded as she stood upright. She ignored him, walking the cart back to its slot. When she returned, she had all intention of heading straight to the driver's side, but Taehyung's hand wrapping around her wrist stopped her.
She sniffled as she turned to face him. Kiara yanked her wrist from his hand, causing him to sigh. "When is this gonna stop?" She asked as she wiped her wet face with the sleeves of her hoodie. "When will you finally trust me enough to know I wouldn't ever step out on you?" Taehyung pressed his lips together, staring down at the girl. "I fucking love you, Tae, with every fiber of my being. I've loved you for years! But...," the girl trailed off, looking up at the night sky. She couldn't stop the tears, no matter how much she wanted to. Just thinking of the words hurt her.
Taehyung reached for her again, pulling her into his chest. He held her tightly in an embrace while she sobbed into his chest. "I'm sorry," he whispered as his hands rubbed her back soothingly. Kiara's cries slowed to a stop. "I'm so sorry. I..., I just get jealous sometimes. I think you'll leave me because I've never seen a bond like you and JK's. I feel like he's in love with you."
"He's my best friend," she mumbled before pulling away from the man. She wiped her nose as she stared down at the ground. "He does love me, but not in the way you love me." She rubbed her eyes once more before looking up at him. The whites of her eyes were now red. Taehyung couldn't help but frown, using his thumb to wipe the remaining tears. She flinched from his touch, looking away from him. "But that isn't an excuse to treat me like that." She took a step back from him. Her warmth left him with the winter cold. "So this jealousy stuff has to stop now."
Taehyung nodded his head quickly. "I'm sorry, I'll try harder." He reached out for her again, and she didn't pull away. He gently stroked her cheek with his thumb while Kiara inhaled deeply, leaning into his touch. "I will be better."
She let out a shaky breath before throwing herself into the man. She pressed her face into his chest, feeling the vibrations from his body as he chuckled. "So, about that game night...." She hummed, waiting for him to continue. "Will you try for me?"
She pulled away enough to look up at him, her warm eyes making his heart skip a beat. "I'll try."
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Text
DIMMED LIGHT
ONE SHOT
Kim Taehyung x female Reader 
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In this absence of any noise, i felt a very great comfort. It was so quiet you could hear my heartbeat taking on the melody of the rainbeat with every drop that splattered down the car on this rainy night. I still could not believe it, how could he do such a tumult in the restaurant, because his delusional self thought that the waiter was flirting with me. Honestly I must admit that his protective side was always a trait that drew me to him but that strong emotion mixed with the uneasiness he had felt within himself for several weeks, like him and I were moving away from each other, like he could be replaced within a blink of eye, was a deadly poison.
„Who the fuck do you think you are?“ was the last thing he spit with an evil smirk in his face, his eyes burning with pure anger. Everything happened so fast, the next thing I saw was Taehyung's fist slamming merciless into the waiter's face with full force. The awful noise is still in my ears, making me flinch whenever I imagine the scene in front of me. To be honest it‘s not the first time that such thing happened, but he vowed me to control hisself, he promised me that even when he has his outburst I never had to fear him. His outburst tonight was different from the ones I witnessed before. I can’t get it of my mind, how empty and lifeless his eyes were when they met mine while i tried with all my might to calm him down, to prevent the situation from escalating. Actually he was aware I was scared to death, he knew that I get anxious whenever someone get’s in a physical fight. It’s not like he didn’t know how upsetting this situation was for me, but he simply choose not to care about my feelings neither my wellbeing. In this moment he just wanted to prove a point, to me, to the waiter, to the restaurant, to the whole world.
It’s not a surprise that we‘ve had a tense situation for weeks, neither of us trying to state the obvious, that the spark between us is slowly but surely fading away. Words can not express how happy and exciting I was when he suggested the date in the first place. First of all he wasn’t really the romantic lovely dovley type to organize a candlelight dinner for the two of us. So in my irrational mind I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity for me to remind myself of all his good qualities which is why i fell in love with him, really hoping that the guy i fell in love with four years ago is still there waiting for me to put him out of the the dark. It feels like the Taehyung i fell in love with is gone since the day he put this personal success above all else. I‘ve always admired his ambition, but often it feels like he‘s a bird flying higher and higher, without looking back what he‘s leaving behind and I have no choice but to watch him fly from my golden cage that i had unconsciously built for myself since the day i vowed to be there for him no matter what.
Maybe it was the way he knew exactly what to say to me with those sugar sweet little lies or maybe it was me who was willing to believe every lie he told me, like an idiot closing my eyes to the most obvious thing. The way he had the power to destroy every fibre of self confidence and self love i had in me. Making me doubt myself, making me feel like the lowest version of myself. He made me feel so high above the sky, giving me the feeling of protection, love and respect. Actually slowly but surely he made me forget the beauty of the rise, because the feeling of the freefall was an hundred times worse. One positive thing came out of this situation, the fact that he put me through this made me, made me realize that I won‘t let this happen ever again. Not now, not tomorrow, not in an hundred years. Believe it or not, I made up my mind, no force in the world, no-black magic, not even his sprakling brown eves that promised me whole universes and galaxies, could revent me from putting my wishes and wellbeing first. The raindrops hit the ground loudly and relentlessly on this stormy and rainy night, instead of the tears that i vowed not to let fall. Even the cloudy and dark weather was on my side, it felt like the whole word was sharing the feeling of sadness and loneliness with me with every raindrop that fell on the cold ground.
It felt like forever but we‘ve arrived at the apartment. Not a word left our lips since the moment we left the restaurant. In all honesty I wasn‘t even ready to face him, to look him in the eyes after everything he put me through tonight. The second we entered the apartment, I made my way to the couch, I didn't even have the strength to take off my shoes nether my coat nor turn on the light. This darkness gave me a familiarity and comfort, it’s sad to say that’s the way i spend the last couple of weeks waiting for Taehyung to return home. No to be more precise I waited every night in darkness with the hope that he will enlighten the apartment with the light that his old self carried within him. It’s time to wake up from my dream and face reality, the light within him dimmed down, there is not much left of his old self.
„It not my fault, he should‘ve known what he got into the moment he started undressing you with his filthy eyes.“ he stated monotonous in a low voice while standing at the doorframe crossing his arms. „He was not flirting nor undressing me with his eyes, he was simply being polite. If you would pay attention to something other than your self for once in your life, you would have notice that he was like that with all the costumers there.“ I countered as i leaned back at the couch with a firm but calm voice, feeling tired and drained out from this messy situation. „I couldn‘t fucking care less how he acted with other women. What i don‘t tolerate is the fact he could not take his eyes off what‘s mine.“ he said angrily not understanding why you would try to defend him.
„Are you even listening to yourself? First of all i‘m not your possession and secondly just admit that you just wanted to make a point and show everyone that no one can mess with you and you enjoyed the feeling of megalomania, that you‘ve gotten used to over the last few months at my fucking expense, without wasting a fucking thought on how I felt the whole time.“ i voiced out my voice nearly breaking, feeling like every word i uttered turned to smoke slowly fading away, not even reaching him. „That‘s not true and you fucking know it.“ he said feeling hurt, trying his best not to give weight to the words you just spit. To say that he was unaffected by your statement would be a lie. The only way Taehyung could prevent himself from shutting out completely and distancing himself, was by making you feel the crushing grief he is feeling deep inside his heart. „Don’t you think that if you would know your fucking boundaries from the beginning we wouldn‘t be here in the first place. Do I have to remind you whenever we leave the door that you are in a relationship? Stop being „nice“ to every fucking male you meet, that‘s making you look so fucking pathetic.“ he screamed his voice getting louder and louder with every word coming out of his mouth, the pure sarcasm in his voice while saying the word nice didn’t go unnoticed by me. His eyes were filled with pure rage and pain. I shook my head closing my eyes not wanting to believe that he could say such hurtful things to me.
„We are over.“ i simply said those 3 words that have been lingering in my mind for so long, while standing up from the couch, feeling like a weight was lifted off my soulders. „What do you mean?“ he asked feeling panic and anxiety starting to grow inside his thorax. „I‘m so done with the way you‘ve been treating me the last couple of months I deserve so much better than this.“ i stated while pointing at us. „I gave you everything I had inside of me and you gave me nothing but pain in return. You are not the Taehyung i fell in love with, you are not the person I vowed to love, to look after, to never leave and let go anymore. Actually you don’t respect me nether do you love me after all those words you said to me and I can‘t continue this relationship for another moment.“ i confessed what I had in my mind for so long, finally making up my mind for good. He felt his heart shatter, making it impossible for him to utter a word while watching you leave the door. The best thing that ever happened to him left and he couldn‘t do nothing but watch you leave.
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hyungieyoongi · 1 year
Text
I’m Fine
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Angst + Exes to Lovers
Word Count: 1.1K
A/N: Requested by anon for my follower milestone celebration! 
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“I’m fine.”
Two words. Repeated dozens of times to everyone around you.
“It’s been a few weeks since you broke up? How are you feeling.”
Well, I haven’t slept in three days, and I cried again this morning.
“I’m fine.”
“Did you see the last interview he was in? He looked so happy. Did that hurt to see?”
Of course he’s happy without me. He moved on already. Meanwhile here I am still heartbroken.
“I’m fine.”
“Do you want to go to the party tonight? Taehyung promised he and Jimin weren’t going.”
Seeing all of our mutual friends without him would hurt more than staying at home alone.
“No thanks.”
“Are you sure? Are you okay if I still go?”
“Of course. I’m fine.”
An endless loop. A broken record.
You said the two words so often that you started to believe them. Six months after your breakup with Jimin and you were convincing yourself, along with everyone else, that you truly were fine. It was easier to play pretend than admit that you were broken being without him, your last conversation replaying itself in your mind.
“I don’t understand.”
“There isn’t anything to understand, Jimin. It’s done. We’re done.”
“We’re not done. You can’t just dismiss our relationship, Y/N. I deserve more than that. We deserve more than that.”
“It’s too much, okay? It’s all too much. The pressure from your fans, the fear that I will do something wrong or say something to make them hate me. They will always choose you, and they should, but I can’t keep living like this.”
“I know it’s been a lot but, please, don’t give up on us.”
“You’re going solo for the first time in a decade. You need your fans to be on your side. I’m holding you back.”
“I need you on my side, Y/N, you have to believe me.”
“You won’t need me. I promise. You’ll be fine.”
It was easy to pretend you were fine when you were hiding away from the world. But today you had finally been convinced to go to a small party that your friend was hosting. You had checked and then triple checked that Jimin wasn’t going to be here. Looking at him across the room, you couldn’t help but feel deceived. 
“Go talk to him,” a deep voice murmured at your side.
“Tae, I can’t,” you responded, immediately recognizing his voice. 
“He’s hurting. He’s been acting like he’s fine, but he’s not. He misses you terribly. I know you miss him too.” You nodded, deciding you needed to get this over with. It had been months; it was time. 
You rolled your shoulders back, attempting to stand a little taller, to feign confidence. Your fingers were shaking slightly; you clutched the strap of your purse tightly in one hand, drink glass in the other to try and hide it. You crossed the room toward him. 
“Jimin,” you breathed.
His eyes searched your face. His expression was serious, lips in a slight frown at your guarded demeanor.
“Y/N. How are you?”
I want you to wrap me in your arms and pretend like the last six months didn’t happen.
“I’m fine.” His mouth twisted slightly at the curt response. 
“Tell me the truth.”
“I am.”
“I think you’re lying.”
“It is not for you to decide what is true and what is not when it comes to my feelings.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t care about them.” You let out a breath, already tiring from your verbal sparring match. 
“Please, we can’t do this here,” you pleaded.
“Why not? You won’t return my calls. You’ve been avoiding our friends so you don’t have to see me,” Jimin accused, frustrated. “Do you hate me that much?”
“I don’t hate you, Jimin.”
I love you.
“Then what is it? Why can’t you talk to me? Why can’t you see me? We were friends before we were together, but ever since we broke up you’re acting like you don’t even know me. It isn’t fair, Y/N. None of this is fair. So explain it to me.” 
“It hurts, Jimin,” you admitted, heat crawling up your neck as you finally let out your feelings. “I can’t see you or talk to you because it hurts too much. I can’t see you because if I do I won’t be fine anymore. I will remember how much I love you and it hurts.”
You looked toward the ceiling, willing your tears to stay in your eyes. You didn’t want to cause a scene—your conversation in the corner of the room with Jimin was already a point of tension at the party. Everyone was politely milling about, pointedly avoiding looking in your direction.
You wiped angrily at a tear that fell, fingers trembling against your cheek despite your best efforts to stop them from shaking earlier.
Jimin reached out, wrapping your hand in his own, squeezing it tightly to stop the anxious movement. 
“I haven’t been fine,” Jimin said quietly, eyes wet. “I haven’t been fine at all. I’ve been miserable without you.”
You sniffled, looking at your interlocked hands. Jimin stepped closer to you.
“I don’t think you have been fine, either.”
You looked up, meeting his concerned gaze. Your body deflated slightly at his statement. After months of pretending, the one person who always knew the truth saw right through your lies.
“We need each other, Y/N. I need you.”
You nodded, words stuck in your throat. He was right, of course he was right.
“Can we leave and go somewhere? Just to talk?”
“Okay,” you answered, voice cracking slightly. 
You followed Jimin out of the party, nodding at Taehyung on the way out. He gave you a soft, knowing smile. 
You stepped out with Jimin into the cold city air, shivering slightly at the wind. You pulled your coat closer to your body, hands attempting to get warm in your pockets. Jimin stepped toward you, removing his scarf from around his neck and draping it over you, wrapping it snuggly around your neck to keep you warm. It smelled like his cologne. You breathed deeply, the smell comforting you as Jimin smiled gently at you.
“You want to know something?” Jimin asked, hand cupping your cheek, fingers warming the cold skin. 
“Yes.”
“I think we’re going to be just fine.”
---
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bangtanfancamp · 1 year
Text
You again | part 1│PJM
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❄︎ master list
❆ series masterlist
❄︎ pairing: Park Jimin x reader
❆word count: 2.4k
❄︎rating: mature, 18+
❆genre: mutual pining, unrequited love to lovers?, slight angst, Christmas romance, mutual friends au
❄︎warnings: none to speak of, future smut but none in this chapter
❆ summary: you’ve been head over heels for Park Jimin for as long as you can remember. You’ve always felt like it might be mutual but you’ve never known for sure. You’re always running into each other but nothing ever comes of it. Maybe this winter things will finally be different.
❄︎ author’s note: this piece started as something really personal to me. I'm usually a bit too precious with things and hoard them until I have a completely finished piece so I’m trying something new and splitting what I planned to be a one shot into a multi chapter fic. I hope you like it and it gives you something sweet to read during the holiday season. I’m as excited to see where these two go as you are. Oh! And Merry Christmas, everybody !
-Christiana 🤍✨
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“Jimin”
His name leaves your lips breathily, entirely on its own accord .
“I didn’t… you’re… here.”
You swallow, pulse fluttery in your throat as the rest of you freezes. He smiles- god that smile- the edges of his eyes folding into little creases like the lines in linen as he illuminates the room. His aura is always like that. It floods a space like sunlight slipping past a cloud. It’s so bright it makes everything look overexposed. Makes your heart feel exposed.
His cheeks lift, making his smile grow warmer, deeper, even more inviting. Then he does the worst thing he could possibly do: he says your name.
“Y/n, hi…”
It sounds so sweet when he says it. Soft around the edges, shrouded in care. His eyes are warm, molten. Familiar, sincere.
They break your heart.
“…how are you doin these days?”
He slips his hands in his pockets, tips his head, leans into your sphere of space. You drift into the gravity of him, distracted, delighted as he bites his lip and waits for your answer.
Your answer that doesn’t come because it’s then that you realize something- he has to ask because he doesn’t know. Because he didn’t fight for you. He let you go. Things got sticky and weird and he just… retreated inward. He’d disappeared.
He’s been gone.
He was the reason for the absence that makes your heart weep in your chest.
It crashes over you like rain in a downpour and suddenly, you’re stepping back. Lashes fluttering. Clearing your throat and dropping your eyes with an awkward smile.
“Oh you know. Same old same.” You sing song.
You wonder if he caught the slip, the glitch in your facade. His chest is closer to you now, eyes tracing your features. You can feel it. You can feel it. You can feel it. But you don’t look up. You can’t. You don’t think you’d survive it.
He reaches up, the leather in his sleeves cracking as his index knuckle drags along your outer arm.
“Nice sweater,” he croons. “‘S soft”
You can hear the smile without looking up. Feel a tingle sparkle up your skin that’s outside of your control. He always had the most gentle touch.
“It’s my favorite. Finally cold enough to wear it.” You exhale.
Why is your heart beating so fast? Why is his presence like its own living entity? Why do you want him to hold you so badly?
He laughs. It’s small, gentle as a glass bell.
“I hear we might finally get a white Christmas. Can you imagine?”
There’s a cloud of warmth between you when he laughs again. You wish you could pick it apart like cotton candy and take a piece of his voice home to listen to when this encounter ends.
You'd known there was a chance you’d see him tonight.
You have the same circle of friends. You always weave in and out of the same events, parties, graduations. Tonight it was Seokjin’s birthday party at the newest warehouse turned bar downtown. A new chance to play the same song again. It always went like this. Neither of you ever sought the other out, but as soon as the group chats started or the Christmas party invites got sent out, you’d know.
He’d be there.
You’d be there.
You’d both inevitably orbit around the other all night. He’d bring you a flute of champagne. You’d accidentally end up in the only open spot in the booth and it would be beside him.
Eyes would lock. Hands would skim hands. Moments would string themselves together until they lasted half the night but it would always end.
It was like being frozen in the moment before a kiss that was never going to come.
Last time…. Last time was different.
At least, you’d thought so.
Half the battle had always been timing.
Jimin would be about to fly off to Paris for work the next two months. You would be doing a volunteer project a state away. Jimin had just broken up with someone, but you’d just started with someone. You’d been single but there was some gorgeous forest nymph in a slinky dress curled around him.
There was always something in the way. But that chemistry. That stupid stupid palpable connection never wavered. It had a firm hand curved around both your throats and never let go.
Last time, you’d thought you’d finally escaped the unending loop.
Last time, you’d thought something was finally going to come from it.
It had been his surprise birthday party the year before. The birthday boy was draped in silk, held taught in leather, his pastel hair blown softly out of his eyes and his face was so, so close to yours all night. He’d lit up the second he’d seen you and you’d been done for.
He’d floated closer, closer and closer all night.
His cheek brushing yours when he whispered in your ear below the thrum of the music. His fingers ghosting the curve of your waist when he’d pointed you in the direction of the rest of your friends. His eyes sparkling with laughter when they met yours as he blew out his candles. His chest and hips cocooning your back as you danced together half the night at his request.
It had been a dizzy night in seemingly your own little world.
Jimin had pulled you into his bubble - just you and him -and you’d finally surrendered into the flow. He’d say something this time. You were sure.
If he’d been honest, if he’d admitted how he felt for you, if he’d kissed you or invited you home. if he finally stopped hiding his heart from you, you would have followed him anywhere.
You just needed to hear it. You just needed to know it wasn’t all in your head.
“This time is different,” you’d thought. “This whole night has been different. Jimin’s finally going to-“
Hope left you all at once.
She’d shown up late to the party.
You hadn’t known her face, but you’d known in an instant that she meant something to him.
She slid herself directly into the energetic slot you’d taken most of the night and suddenly you were out of sorts. So was he. It was something new, his friends had said. No official titles yet. She was supposed to be too busy but she found a way to make it in, she said. Jimin had looked a bit pale as his mask slipped and your heart had cracked like glass.
You could still feel it. That buzz between you. Only it was shrouded in anxiety now. The pull was there, the line tight but primed to snap instead of interweave. You watched the night unravel as you saw it all flit across his face.
He’d said he was happy to see you, that he’d heard you were with someone - was he coming to meet you?
He was being so formal with you now. You could feel the strangeness. The distance. The desire to pull you close and shut you out all at once. You couldn’t bring yourself to call the other dying remnant of a thing in your life a relationship anymore …. Not right then…so you’d stayed silent. Shook your head. Smiled. Hoped it didn’t look so damn sad.
You snuck out shortly after, and he hadn’t tried to follow.
He had your number but he hadn’t texted, hadn’t called, hadn’t dm’ed. Just spent the next eight months watching your Instagram stories without ever saying a word until you blocked him in an attempt to mend your own heart. Stupid libra men. Beautiful, stupid, wretchedly tempting, vile little heart breakers.
Tonight, you’d been intent on hiding from him no matter how much you wanted to be around him, only to run into him before you’d even entered the building.
The air is heavy with unfallen snow and unspoken words as you hover beside each other by the brick exterior.
The planes of his perfect face are softly illuminated by the patio’s string lights and you take a step back as his hand drops away. This is too much
“Jimin, I-“
“Hey.”
You work up the nerve to meet his eyes and when you do, they’re…different.
No electric charm, no charisma, no heavy lidded sex appeal.
They’re… uncertain.
“I’m… last year at my birthday, that…” he shakes his head as your brows furrow.
The silence is thick as he tries to find his words.
“Y/n, I -“
He hesitantly wraps his fingers around the tips of yours.
“No,” you interrupt. It’s awkward and heavy. This moment has such a weight, such a sincerity to it. His eyes look so sorry and you can’t bear to hear him say it. Not after a year. Not after all these years. The dance will end. The chase will end. He’ll try to be amicable and make it all better, make you both friends and you can’t. You can’t. Not when you’ve been in love with him so long. You can’t bear it.
“Please. I’ve really given this a lot of thought and I just want to say-“
“God, it’s cold out here. We should get inside!” You laugh, eyes wide, crazed, as you try to navigate around his lithe frame. But there’s his hand again. His warm, stupid, strong hand holding gentle but firmly on your elbow.
“Y/n,” he breathes, and your name sounds warm and sweet and beautiful in his voice so you stop, frozen in place. “I know we’re both here for Seokjinnie’s day, but would you… I don’t know, would you wanna maybe get out of here?”
What is he saying?
Slowly, you turn over your shoulder. You need to see his eyes again. You need to know what he means, where he’s going with this.
You’ve never truly spent time alone with him.
God, do you want to.
“Jimin, what… where would we go?” Your brows are taught, studying him, silently entreating him to give you a reason to say yes because oh, you want to. So badly.
“I.. I don’t know. But the city looks so beautiful tonight. It’s lit up all over with Christmas lights like you like. We could just wander until we find a place. See what seems right.”
His eyes are glassy, wide, hopeful… and most surprisingly, a bit terrified.
Jimin is always a radiant bolt of confidence. You’ve never seen him look so mortal before. So vulnerable. You realize then for perhaps the first time that you have the power to break his heart this time— have you been capable of that all this time ? You don’t know how to face that thought.“
“Jimin, that sounds lovely but… it’s Seokjin’s day. I can’t imagine leaving before I’ve even said hi. It wouldn’t be right.” Your brows melt softly as you look up at him, and he’s nodding and nodding and nodding. His soft hair flouncing as he does, his plump lips pulled behind his teeth, the light in his eyes flickering out like a dying bulb.
“Of course. For sure. You’re… totally right. I shouldn’t have…”
He trails off and you find yourself studying the snowflakes caught on the tip of his lashes. When did it start to snow? You've been so lost in him that you truly don’t know.
Small flakes melt against the warmth of his skin, glossy little drops like highlights on the cheekbones you've wanted to kiss for as long as you can remember. There it is. You can feel it. The swirly lightness in your belly that alerts you that you’re trapped in that pull again. It’s always so visceral when he’s close enough to touch like he is now. You want to give into it, but you know that’s never worked before and it won’t work now.
The moment is heavy. The clock is ticking. It’s awkward as hell and no one is talking and he looks made of marble in the soft light. You’re drowning in all of it. The meter on your oxygen is blaring red red red. You have to do something about it, but you can’t get your mouth to speak.
He clears his throat, his beautiful, stupid, soft voice cutting though the chill.
“I’ll see you inside, yeah?”
He smiles again, trying for sincere but landing somewhere in the weeds near close to tears. It’s exactly what you need.
He turns on his heel, Chelsea boots clacking crisp against the icy pavement toward the entrance and away from this moment with you when your voice finally finds itself.
“Find me in an hour?”
His shoulders stiffen, eyes darting up from their study of the sidewalk and whipping back to find you.
“What?” He breathes it like an exhale, his face lighting from the inside with hope.
“In an hour, if you still want to talk, if you still….” you swallow nervously, frost settling deep in your lungs.
“I’ll find you,” he finishes, dark eyes twinkling like starlight. “Promise.”
He vanishes into the party and you shove your hands deep into the pockets of your babydoll sweater dress, head tilted back to look up at the heavens.
“What on earth have I gotten myself into?”
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jimilter-recs · 2 years
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PARK JIMIN | APR-JUN ’22 FIC RECS
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⇰ hey, everyone! welcome to my quarterly fic recs list, featuring the love of my life, park jimin. 💛
❥ welcome! i’m a week late and the list is really short by my standards. the reason to which might be the fact that most of may and all of june were pretty busy months for me, and i was able to only catch up w fics when i was unwell and bedridden (which happened twice, unfortunately :\).
❥ length: there are the regular three categories based upon lengths: one-shots, series and drabbles; no smaus in this quarter, i'm afraid.
❥ ps! this list contains fics that i have read within these months, not just the fics that were posted during this time!
❥ WARNING ❥ MOST OF THESE WILL BE 18+ AND CONTAIN EXPLICIT SMUT - MINORS SHOULD STRICTLY NOT INTERACT.
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❥ legend:
a - angst | f - fluff | s - smut | d - drama | h - humor rating - pg-13 | pg-15 | 18+ tw - trigger warnings - including: mentions of insecurities, mental illness, abuse, infidelity, violence, blood, gore, any death, and more. check fic warnings before you proceed. ❥ - absolute favorites that i’ll remember forever!
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∘ love me better - @taegularities | a, d, s, f | 18+  ❥ i got the chance to beta this mind-blowing fic by ridziette (although my hectic schedule didn’t allow me to complete the task blown away! an honest to god masterpiece of a suspense thriller! doesn’t even feel like a fic most of the time, it’s a whole-ass movie, guys! <3
∘ sexcapade - @hamsterclaw​ | h, f | 18+ so i inhaled most of rei’s masterlist but haven’t yet screamed abt all the fics, i will, asap! but this one - wow! there’s no actual smut in here but the entire story revolves around sex. the banter, jimin’s sexiness, oc being relatable - i love everything abt the fic! <3
∘ let’s get quizzical - @taleasnewastime | a, h, s, d, h | 18+ ❥ one of the most amazing f2l fics i’ve ever read!!! jimin’s cluelessness, oc’s pining, the angst bec oc is a pessimist like me - and oh! their entire bunch of idiots? everything is sO good! i read it back in april and while looking for the link, i read it again yesterday, lmao. <3
∘ nectar - @gimmethatagustd​ | a, s, d, h, f | 18+ | tw this is a vamoire!reader x human!jimin - a rare and intriguing foundation, to begin with. and then you take in their personalities, and this fic becomes a delightful ride! jimin is the cutest bean in the whole world, oc is in her goth era and we also have nikki being the kind of friend i crave to have irl. the friendship and the chemistry between oc and jimin - chef’s kiss! please read this and shower jai w the love they deserve, y’all! <3
∘ limitless - @kimvtae​ | a, d | pg-15 | tw  brutally smashed my heart, but if you know me, you know that i enjoyed every bit of it. (: this one has an open end and man i love the way it is left on an ominous note sO mucH! <3
∘ arte factum - @lolabangtan​ | a, d, s | 18+ | tw  oh god this fic gave me the shivers!!! amazingly woven story, with both the smut and the mystery hitting exactly the right way! absolutely loved everything from start to the end, but especially the end. <3
∘ meet me at the finish line - @parkdatjimin​ | a, d, s, h , f | 18+ | tw   ❥ jimin in this fic??? the biggest sweetheart ever, okay? he’s so caring and kind and just overall wonderful, even when him and oc are supposed to be rivals. :( their rivalry is such a cute journey, tho. loved the way it developed as they aged, and then the way their romance bloomed from it. <3
∘ i still want you - @parkdatjimin​ | a, s, d | 18+ the way this tore my heart apart and then julienned it? oc’s pov was bad enough, but then we had to see things from jimin’s pov too??? why, mindy, whY must you be so amazing at portraying gut-wrenching heartbreak? :( i love this fic so much!
∘ freak in you​ - @pshychives​ | s, f | 18+ okay, so this one is a steamy ride and a half - hot af and so well written! please, the way oc and jimin can’t get enough of each other? made me horny cry so many times, ughhh. absolutely amazing, dear writer, i am biting my knuckles as i write this bec this was too sexy! <3
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∘ a remedy for mondays - @dovechim​ | a, s, h, d | 18+​ this one is such a unique story! a hilarious but also emotional ride all the way through. absolutely loved reading it <3
∘ love again - @taestefully-in-luv​ | a, s, d, h | 18+  ❥ ahhh, one of the most amazing series i’ve followed in a while! dear writer does a brilliant job writing the most perfect humor, heartbreak and smut! aside from the amazing amazing chemistry bw jimin and oc, i love every other element of the fic thoroughly as well - from hobi’s friendship w oc, tae’s obsession w jimin and oc, the whole lucy thing (ew), dae’s entanglement w you-know-who, jeremy and naomi and even joon!!! <333
∘ gemini - @hamsterclaw | a, d, s, h, f | 18+ this whole au has my entire heart, ugh, especially yoongi’s playboy self and the bond he shares w oc​, contrary to it! this fic, godddd, it hurt so bad but healed so good. the second half of this story, please, we love an oc who can build her life the way she wants to! <3
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∘ fwb with jimin - @btssmutgalore​ | s | 18+ dee is a smut connoisseur, her blog’s name says it all, there’s no debate. and this is another masterpiece on her list. the subtle friend’s-sister backstory makes this all the more steamier, and when dom!jimin jumps out? mahhhn, we need some air-conditioning in here! this one is too good! <3
∘ adonis - @xjoonchildx​ | h | pg-16 ana wrote a 3k+ words drabble so she’s my role model now. (: LMAO, this fic is so fkn hilarious, man! i absolutely LOVE mrs. yun - how to be her neighbor, pls??? and as oc asked, who tf is doing recruitment in the city? lolol and the doordash driver giving her a thumbs up at the end? reading this fic felt like i was watching a romcom and i appreciated every second of it! <3
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❥ note: that is all i got for now! a total of 14 fics with 9 one-shots, 3 series and 2 drabbles!
as always, there is a strong chance i might have read something but forgotten to save it, in which case i will include it in the next list when i find it again. i really hope all the readers, out there, make use of this list and give all these fics a try and all these wonderful writers some much deserved love! ❤️
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nishibishi · 2 years
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PARK JIMIN'S FIC-RECS:- Series List (01)
Good gracious! Had this week been more hectic, I could see the signs of the curtains of my life closing upon me. I wish all of you are doing well and good. I'm pretty much aware of what all happened at the Grammy's, but seriously, I couldn't care less as we all know BTS doesn't need them, they need BTS and THAT'S A UNIVERSAL FACT.
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Well, here I am with the fic-recs featuring no one other than my love, my life, my person, Park Jimin. None of these works are mine, their copyrights belong to their respective writers who've put their blood, sweat and LUST (as nearly all of them are smuts, blame it to my teenage hormones peeps!) into these wonderful creations. I would ask you all again to give their master-lists a shot as well. Happy reading!
WARNING:-
MOST OF THESE SERIES WILL BE 18+ (mentions of any mental unrest, mentions of any death, blasphemy, infidelity, mentions of blood, and explicit smut)- MINORS SHOULD STRICTLY NOT INTERACT.
LEGENDS:-
a - angst ; f - fluff ; m - mature ; s - supernatural ; d - drama ; h - humor
Would You?(m) by @jiminrings (a, f, d) [slice of life]
You, for most obvious reasons, have caught up feelings for your supermodel best friend, Jimin, who's sole aim is get his bed warm at night. Until one day, when he finds himself falling in love with your old friend, Ji-soo, and you finally realize that it's high time to move on. But the question of the hour is: would you?
The characterization of this series is its essence that drew me towards the end of this fic. I absolutely loved the portrayal of Jimin's character of someone who doesn't believe in the permanence of anything. Some of the parts hit harder than the most, as the memories of relationships uncover deepest feelings of the OC. A must read!
Heartburn by @jiminrings (a, d) [slice of life]
"My heart burns for your love." A beautiful metaphor, ain't it? But this metaphor turns into reality when you find out your boyfriend to be emotionally engaging with someone else and then you realize, that your heart, indeed, burns for his love.
This is one of the most tear-jerking fics I've read so far. The realism of this series is so heart-wrenching and true to the core, that we all must have faced at some or the other point in our lives. The best work of the writer so far. Absolutely loved it!
Dreaded Neighbors(m) by @99liners (a, f, d, h) [arrange marriage]
Your husband, Jimin and you barely know each other. And surprisingly, both are equally shy, not so ready to make a move. Thanks to your neighbors, whom you both equally try to avoid, and in that journey, you find something together: love.
This fic is fresh, quirky, modern and pretty sexy, in fact. It takes a new and a very, very relatable perspective on arrange marriages, love, age gap and the marital relationships. The awkwardness between the leads, the romance and the situations amongst their friends, colleagues, relatives etc. is absolutely delectable. Totally worth reading!
Lebensmüde(m) by @99liners (a, d) [mafia, crime world]
In the world of hate, violence and crime, you and your husband, Jimin, try to find an escape to a better place, unsure of what future beholds for you two.
Toxic, dark, frightening and sick. A rare delicacy for dark souls like me. A must read!
Induratize(m) by @hobiwonder (a, f, d) [royalty, forced marriage]
In order to save his kingdom, your father trades you to Prince Jimin as a peace treaty. And defeated, you accept your fate and sooner than later, find yourself needy for your husband's affection. However, his reluctance hide a lot more secrets than your mind can think of.
An emotional rollercoaster ride featuring thickest monarch vocabulary (and mind me, it's so sexy, oh lord), the overwhelming sexual tension between the leads and foremost, the best smut scenes I've come across so far.
I JUST WANT TO SAY:- HOBIWONDER PLEASE COME BACK AND COMPLETE THIS MASTERPIECE. I'M SO FUCKING TIRED TO WAKE UP EVERYDAY AND CHECK FOR ANY UPDATES REGARDING THIS FIC AND GETTING UPSET AFTER SEEING NONE. PLEASE, I BEG YOU.
Baby, Baby(m)(ft. Taehyung) by @hobiwonder (a. f, d, h) [surrogacy]
To pay your university fees, you get yourself recruited as a surrogate for a very attractive and elite gay couple. But soon, as your pregnancy sets in, they start taking TOO much care of you and the things, for sure, get complicated.
It is bold, sinful, highly explicit and morally wrong, yet I've got to admit it: this fic is indeed my biggest guilty pleasure till date. The character development, the problems faced by the queer people around the globe and the pregnancy issues women have to deal with are the highlights of this fic along with the steamy intimate scenes among the leads. Very vulgar, but yes, the best in its genre.
Oh, What A World(m) by @cutechim (a, f, d, h) [contract marriage, popstar]
After almost ruining his idol career, Jimin is determined to dedicate his everything to revive his nation's it-boy fame. But much to his dismay, his PR team puts up the idea of contract marriage, in order to whitewash his past misdeeds. Enters you, a heartbroken law prodigy, who catches his interest.
The cutest, the loveliest, the most adorable fic I've read so far. The best part is that the way Jimin's character has been written is so familiar to the original Jimin that we know: warm, affectionate, clumsy, cute, sexy, sensitive and everything! The chemistry between the leads as well as the other main characters is an absolute delight. A MUST READ FOR ALL JIMIN FANS!
A Remedy For Mondays(m) by @dovechim (a, f, h) [office, fake dating/pregnancy]
After bunking your miserable office life for a fan-meet, you end up faking a pregnancy naming your co-worker, Jimin as your partner-in-crime to cover up. But soon, everything comes crashing to you and you do realize, that indeed, you took the worst possible remedy for Mondays.
A Hilarious, Sexy and Quirky ride full of surprises and of course, a happy ending. The weird situations the leads find themselves stuck in between and oh, Jimin's Grandma. DEFINITELY A MUST READ.
Illegirl by @threeletterslife (f, h) [High School, Teacher-Student]
An A-grade student like you, ends up accidentally kissing your drunk mathematics teacher due to unexplainable circumstances. And that's how your shelved life takes an interesting turn towards love, friendship and life.
The best teacher-student relationship fic I've read. It buzzes with its lively, vibrant and relatable characters stuck in evermore relatable situations under different horizons and perspective. LOVED IT!!
Off-limits(m) by @kaddiiction (a, f) [Brother's Best friend]
You've always been in love with you brother's bff. But once you end up hooking up with him at their homecoming party, things get messed up for worse.
Heart wrenching at its most. Problematic, Relatable and Profound. A must read.
So that is it, guys. Stay healthy and hydrated! Happy Reading! You guys can reply me as well and suggest me some more. Good day to y'all!!
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oddinary4bts · 2 years
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I want to be with you | pjm (teaser)
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☆ summary : moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbour is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?
☆ pairing: Park Jimin x female reader
☆rating: 18+
☆genre: strangers (fan) to friends to lovers, idol!au; fluff, some slight angst, smut
☆warnings: mention of cheating, asshole jimin for a few moments, a tiny little bit of jealousy, alcohol consumption, throwing up, oral sex (female receiving), edging, fingering, badly written dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it babes), slightly dom! jimin, reader is shy and awkward and might give you a little bit of secondhand embarrassment, sad love confession
☆word count: 31.9k words (oops lmao)
☆a/n: I've started writing this a while ago and felt like posting for a long time but couldn't convince myself to do it. Started reading some of @taegularities fics and rid really inspired me to start posting again so here's to nothing (thank you rid for giving me the courage to do something I used to love again <3)
☆a/n pt 2: this is one of my first ever moodboards, so please don't be too harsh haha (I am aware it's not great, I have literally no talent in editing pictures and doing collages lmao)
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"What did you just do?"
"I kissed you..."
"Do it again."
---
Coming Friday, August 5
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eoieopda · 1 year
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menace (pjm) — pt. iii
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Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 3/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Word Count: 5K Content: (General) Seokjin’s younger sister AU; fuck buddies that hate each other AU; reader is AFAB & queer; sort of an omniscient POV; nudity; minor injury/blood mention; (SMUT | 18+) oral sex (f); fingering (v); squirting; and — worst of all — k*ss*ng. A/N: Things are, uh, happening, so this has more plot than porn (comparatively speaking.) Also, I’m trying to cover a lot of time in a few parts, so this is the first time skip — from Valentine’s Day (February, obvi,) to Chuseok (September.) The next chapter will be a flashback because we love a villain origin story in this house 🏠
Your arrangement had three rules, and three rules only.
The first of which was easy enough to follow: no kissing. Either of you could bite, lick, or suck on the other to your heart’s content, but under no circumstances should there be kissing. It was too intimate, too romantic. Too ironic, you’d concede, that Jimin was permitted to put his mouth on anything but yours. Still, it was a line neither of you would dare to cross.
Romance had no business here.
The second rule was that staying the night was only permissible to avoid serious injury or death — or if, in the event of an Act of God, you were otherwise unable to leave.
This came into effect the very first night you went to his house, when the terms of this arrangement were settled. Somewhere between you nagging at him and him tossing you up onto his kitchen counter, the record-breaking storm outside downed a power line at the end of the driveway. And even if that broken pole hadn’t trapped your car where it sat, the flooded street would have.
Otherwise, the deal was that you’d get it in, then you'd get out.
The third rule was the most important because it was created to cover the loopholes of rule number two: no cuddling, ever.
The only thing more intimate than kissing was having someone’s naked body curled against yours while they snored into your skin. This kind of vulnerability was to be avoided at all costs. It was unforgivable — a red card that would result in immediate ejection from the game.
Until now, there had been no violations.
When bright white sunlight hit your freshly opened eyes, you were disoriented. You recognized your own bedroom, of course, but the issue wasn’t where; it was when. Given how soundly you slept, you couldn’t tell how long you’d been out. You could tell that every muscle in your body was staunchly opposed to movement of any kind — up to and including your eyelids, which were still weighed down with sleep.
Instinctively, you rubbed your eyes to see a little clearer. Instantly, you regretted doing so once you noticed the way your day-old eyeliner stained your fingers black. Motherfucker. You didn’t know much, but you knew better than to fall asleep without running through your nightly skincare routine first.
If you ever regained the ability to move, you’d go straight to the shower and get yourself sorted. After the gauntlet you'd survived the night before, you deserved to be surrounded by steam and blissful warmth. Your legs felt as though they’d been encased in cement, however, and you couldn't will them to budge. The rest of you felt heavy, too; but you soon realized it wasn’t your exhaustion weighing you down.
It was the unanticipated arm draped over the curve of your waist.
You jerked when you saw it as if it were a snake primed to bite you. You didn’t intend to flail or to throw your elbow backwards into his unsuspecting chest. You didn’t necessarily feel bad about it, either.
Jimin screamed when your sudden act of violence knocked him awake. Shooting bolt upright, his sleep-laden limbs couldn't coordinate his movements. Unceremoniously and tied in a knot of sheets, he rolled off the edge of your bed to the floor. From your rug, he rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder and huffed, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Initially, your glare focused intently on his face, which had sheet marks pressed into his cheek. Then, you noticed that the stark-naked man sprawled out below you was standing at attention. He gasped when the same realization dawned on him, and his hands flew down to cover himself to the best of his ability. His attempts were laughably futile — even if his hands weren’t so slight, there was too much to hide.
For a moment, your stony expression cracked and you snorted. Immediately, you checked yourself before he got the inaccurate impression that you found his clumsy act of modesty to be cute. With a roll of your eyes, you sighed, “Not like I haven’t seen it before, Park.”
“There’s cock, and then there’s unsuspecting morning dick,” he groaned, his voice like gravel and yet still so childish. “Some shit is not meant to be perceived in the unforgiving light of day.”
You shrugged off his embarrassment, unwilling to hear more of his dissertation on dicks and daylight.
“You know the rules,” you stated simply while you slipped out from under your duvet. Unabashedly nude, you didn’t bat an eye. Jimin didn’t even try not to stare.
You hit him with a pointed look as you grabbed your phone off your nightstand, “When I get out of the shower, you better be gone.”
No parting glance was offered as you stepped coolly around him. You didn’t say anything further to acknowledge him before shuffling out of your bedroom to the bathroom. Once inside, you shut the door behind you and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. The chilly porcelain bit at the undersides of your bare thighs, but you ignored it and waited for the water to heat up to the perfect, scalding temperature.
After an abysmally slow climb, it eventually did; you pulled the switch that brought your shower-head back from the dead. With a rattle, your poor old pipes sputtered in disapproval. Like you, they were too worn out for this level of activity. You’d been meaning to call your landlord about the issue, but you suspected he’d hit you with the usual “it’ll get fixed faster if you do it yourself.”
If you were tall enough to reach, perhaps you might’ve done so by now. Too small and too tired, you stepped under the water and let the heavy droplets pummel your skin awake.
As you ran a loofa down your arms and legs, you were distracted by the swath of marks on your skin. Everywhere you looked, there was some scratch, bruise, or love bite. You wondered if the latter was the right term to use.
The tiny galaxies of blue, purple, and yellow were fueled exclusively by a toxic blend of lust and rivalry, nothing more. Those little contusions were the result of clashing titans, conquering as many objectives on the war map as possible — love had nothing to do with it.
When you finished washing, shampooing, and conditioning, you simply stood still. The steam loosened the tension held tight throughout your body and permitted your foggy mind to wander. You wished it hadn’t because you couldn’t seem to control the direction it took, where it led you and to whom.
There was something different about last night, and you couldn’t put your finger on it.
It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to spend all night in the throes of absolute depravity. In fact, that’s how you’d spent most nights over the past year. You were both ruthless competitors, both incapable of letting the other have the last word. This was obvious in any of your conversations; but it was most applicable to whatever this was.
You both needed to deliver the TKO, to cause the orgasm so earth-shattering, the other would have to bend the knee. The two of you dealt in power moves and that was the ultimate — but last night didn’t feel like a title fight. So, then, what was it?
Once the heat of the water started to make you unsteady on your feet, you determined it was time to get out. You didn’t want to, however; it was always such a feat to leave a cozy bed to then stumble naked into a cold bathroom. When that dreaded commute was over, it was even harder to leave the warm shroud of steam you’d exchanged it for.
With a put-upon grumble, you grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it tightly around your middle. For good measure, you used a second to sop up the excess water from your hair before spreading a thin layer of moisturizer over your heat-flushed face. You should’ve stayed put, cherished that cocoon a little longer, but you didn’t.
The second you opened your bathroom door, you regretted it. The comparatively frigid air hit you hard enough to force a gasp as you turned and headed for your kitchen. You made a beeline for your refrigerator, pausing only to glance at the monthly calendar pinned to the front of it with a bottle-opening magnet. When you saw the date, your face fell and took your mood with it.
You kept trying to forget the encroaching holiday and for good reason: Seokjin was spending it with his girlfriend at her family’s home in Jeonju. For the first time in your life, you were your own. The idea of spending Chuseok alone in your house made your heart twinge, but there wasn’t a thing to be done about it now. You quickly bottled that impermissible sadness back up and opened the refrigerator.
Oh.
Unsurprisingly yet still disappointingly, it was a wasteland. One half-empty carton of eggs and a lonely block of cheddar cheese seemed to mock you from their spot on an otherwise bare shelf. You’d clearly forgotten to go grocery shopping despite the numerous post-it notes you’d left to remind yourself. With the holiday, the shops would be closed for three days — scrambled eggs would have to do until the weekend.
Ain’t it fun being on your own?
You stood on tiptoe to reach the frying pan, which hung from a hook on the wall above the counter. With a bit more effort than your fatigued limbs were willing to co-sign, you stretched until your fingertips could graze it. Swatting uselessly at it, you wondered how you’d managed to get it up there in the first place. Whatever witchcraft you must’ve previously employed sure would’ve been helpful now.
“Hope you’re making enough for two.”
Your fingers missed the falling pan by a meter, and you nearly jumped out of your skin as it clattered against the countertop, then bounced off towards the floor. It was impossible to tell what scared you more: the sound of angry metal against ceramic, or the disembodied voice laughing at you from behind.
Either way, you snatched the pan off the ground and wheeled around, weapon at the ready. Jimin, who was stretched out on the sofa in your adjoining living room, raised his hands in self-defense.
“Easy does it, puppy,” He teased, “Put down the cast iron before you hurt yourself.”
You glowered at him, filled with a rage only his smug face and that undying childhood nickname could ignite in you. For two decades, people had been needling you with that comparison. Teasing you constantly, pointing out the eager, attention-starved little sister trailing after Seokjin and his older, cooler friends. Until now, Jimin hadn’t been one of them.
Unwilling to expend limited energy on that particular fight today, you smacked the pan down on the surface of the stove. Attitude locked and loaded, you fired off: “Shouldn’t you have left by now? Like, hours ago?”
Jimin shrugged, unbothered, “I was too tired to drive, even if I could walk to my car.”
Ringed fingers traipsed over the joggers clinging to his thighs. Dizzying muscles notwithstanding, you couldn't imagine they'd been put through more of a workout than yours. The indignant look you shot his way seemed not to graze him.
“That’s not an excuse. We have rules, remember?” You turned your back to him and ignited the burner. “The reason this works at all is because we don’t try to play house the morning after. You go and do whatever it is you do; and I go about my day — in peace.”
“It’s Chuseok.”
His abrupt observation stopped you in your tracks. Heaving an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “So?”
“So, my family is traveling abroad,” He quipped, like this was a sufficient explanation for his continued presence. “There is no ‘whatever it is’ to do.”
As he stretched his arms lazily above his head, a faint trail of dark hair appeared in the gap between his shirt hem and belt. Just as soon as you caught yourself staring, you quickly returned to cracking eggs over the pan. With a dry laugh, you mused, “That sounds like a you problem, not a me problem.”
You’d have been perfectly content to listen to your breakfast as it sizzled. You would’ve loved to bask in the peace and quiet of your lazy morning, but you couldn’t because Park Jimin couldn’t take a goddamn hint. Instead, he kept on prodding.
“Seokjin’s with Chaeyoung, so I know you don’t have shit to do, either.”
With your back to him, Jimin couldn’t see the way your mouth curved into an involuntary frown. He could sense it in your posture, though; your shoulders dipped ever so slightly. For once, he hadn’t been aiming for an exposed nerve — but he’d clearly managed to strike one. He was simply noting that you also had nowhere to rush off to; and no reason to kick him out into the cold just yet.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your unaffected tone tried its best to cover how affected you truly were. Jimin saw right through you and the dismissive wave of your hand. “Presently, or generally.”
From behind you, you heard movement and feared that he was on his way over to you. With a furtive glance out of the corner of your eye, you determined that he hadn’t gotten up — he’d made himself even more comfortable on your couch and kicked his feet up on your coffee table. His voice lilted across your living room to where you stood, in your kitchen. You could hear the shit-eating grin in his words, even if you couldn’t see it.
Unbeknownst to you, Jimin’s teasing was intended to distract you from whatever thought was physically heavy enough to make you slump. “If you had anywhere to be, or anyone to be with, you wouldn’t be cooking yourself a depressing breakfast at three in the afternoon.
Shit, did I really sleep through half the day?
Then, to your horror, you realized that this meant you'd been together for nearly twenty-four hours. That fact felt like a violation even if there wasn’t a purposefully codified rule to break. Maybe, you thought, there should be a fourth one to limit prolonged exposure.
How did he manage to stick like a shadow? Would he ever just give it a rest?
“It’s none of your business what I'm up to because you’re not supposed to be here,” you shot back, mimicking the sing-song tone he’d fired at you. The edge of your rubber spatula scraped along the bottom of the pan, folding and separating the eggs into pieces as they cooked. “Go eat lunch in your own house.”
Jimin’s laughter reverberated through the room. “Why would I? You didn’t make four eggs for one person.”
You froze with your eyes fixed on the uncharacteristically large pile of scrambled eggs before you. It didn’t click until he pointed it out, but you’d unwittingly doubled your usual amount. Why? Surely, you hadn’t done it on purpose. There was no reality in which you’d cook for him.
“Best pull them off before you toast ‘em, puppy.”
Again with that goddamned nickname, reminding you — for the millionth time — that you’d only ever existed within the context of your relationship to Seokjin. Not someone, just someone’s little sister. A pet no one ever seemed to want.
With a smirk, Jimin hoisted himself up off the sofa and meandered over to you too casually, far too comfortable in your space. I really have to stop letting you in here. When he closed the distance between you, he reached over your shoulder and clicked off the burner. Worse still, his hand wrapped around your forearm and guided the pan over to the unused adjacent burner.
Low voice vibrating down your spine, he chided you. “You’ll definitely lose your security deposit if you burn the place down.”
His hand was lingering on your skin, and all you could do was stare up at him, mouth parted slightly like an idiot. You’d refused to look at him much while you cooked, thinking that ignoring him would make him disappear. Unfortunately, because you weren't an infant, you were plagued with object permanence.
And there he still was — permanently.
You eyed the bean-sprout ponytail holding back the longer, upper layer of his hair. It dawned on you for the first time that there was an undercut beneath it; one you’d somehow failed to notice in all the time you’d spent with your fingers tugging at his hair. How long had that been the case?
That haphazard knot at the top was the work of unbothered, unpracticed hands. Spare pieces hung down around his face, which was upsettingly poreless and smooth even though he wasn’t the one with the religiously adhered-to skin care regimen. A fucking Renaissance painting, in living color — in your kitchen.
Park Jimin was disgustingly angelic and it infuriated you, but you couldn't stop looking at him.
“Now, now,” he tutted, derailing your train of thought as he placed his hands on your waist and rudely lifted you out of his way. He did it too easily — like you weighed nothing. Setting you down to the left of the stove, he reached for the cabinet to the upper right. “Stop eyeing me like you want to frame me and hang me above your fireplace.”
Opting to ignore his point entirely, you snatched the plate he held out to you. You hated that he knew where you kept them. “I don’t have a fireplace,” was your nonchalant reply before you used your hip to nudge him back out of your way.
His eyebrows shot up at the audacity of you dumping the entirety of the pan’s contents onto your plate. With your back turned, an impish grin tugged at your lips. You weren’t hungry enough to eat it all yourself, but he needed a reminder on whose house he was in; and what he was and wasn’t entitled to.
“Raised by wolves!” Jimin muttered with a shake of his head. His frustration didn’t stop him from following you as you grabbed a half-empty bottle of buldak sauce out of the refrigerator, though. He was still at your heels when you shuffled off to the sofa.
He took the corner opposite you and turned inward to glare at you as you nestled up against the cushioned arm with a satisfied sigh. Those burning eyes stayed fixated on you as you made a big show of cozying yourself up against the throw pillows. Never one to forgo an opportunity, you gave him something worth watching.
Opening your mouth slowly, you slid your tongue out until the tip of it grazed the bottom of the egg dangling from your fork. Without breaking eye contact, you pulled it off between your teeth. A soft moan accompanied your chewing, as if this depressing mid-afternoon breakfast was the best thing you’d ever tasted. Jimin’s eyebrow twitched as you licked your lips, still refusing to tear your gaze away from him.
Gotcha, fucker.
He’d had quite enough of your little games. Without warning, Jimin grabbed the plate and fork from your hands and dropped them onto the coffee table with a clatter. Your eyes and mouth opened wide and froze that way.
That shocked expression only intensified when he grabbed your ankles in each hand and pulled your lower half towards him. You squeaked as your back slid down the arm of the sofa. Now flat against the seat cushions with your knees hinged over his shoulders, you were left to blink up at Jimin as he smirked down at you.
“Maybe you can finish your breakfast after I’ve had mine,” Jimin purred, leaning down to erase the space between your bodies. With your legs held hostage, his hands were free to push the ends of your towel to the side, out of his way. His pupils were blown as he looked up at you from a curtain of dark eyelashes.
You may have been hungry, but he was ravenous.
Face dipping down between your legs, his hot breath lit you on fire. He fanned the flames, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses up the inside of each thigh before suckling on the delicate skin he found there. The wet heat of his tongue and the sting of his suction caused your eyelids to flutter. You screwed them shut completely and tilted your head back as he continued his way towards your cunt, already dripping with need.
Jimin’s arms bent up underneath you, curling over your hips and forcing you still. You felt the cool tip of his nose brush against your core as those sloppy kisses ceased; and his mouth found what it’d been seeking. With his tongue dipping between your slicked folds, you melted into his arms with a low moan.
“So focused on your own appetite… Did you ever consider mine?” He murmured between flicks of his tongue, “Selfish, really.”
Your mouth was hanging open, but for once, you couldn’t find the words to bite back at him. Instead, you did something you’d never done before: you gave up. Bottom lip pinched tight between your teeth, you let the opportunity drop without any attempt to volley it.
Though you likely assumed that this was all for your benefit — or that he was merely exercising power over you — Jimin would beg to differ. He reveled in the unholy sounds you made as he devoured you. In a rare display of vulnerability, you surrendered yourself completely in moments like this. You collapsed limp and trusting in his arms, except for the hands clinging desperately to his hair; and he could momentarily believe that you were always this open, this inviting.
Like this, you were perfect. You looked it, too, with your high cheekbones flushing a shy shade of scarlet. Even the way your chest heaved was delicate, subtle enough that it felt like a secret meant for him; gentle, though the hammering it prompted in his own chest wasn’t. Still, it felt illegal to steal these glimpses of you like this; so, he attempted to blink the indelible image of your face away and pressed his even closer to your pretty pussy.
Of all the times Jimin had you in this position, it never felt like this. No hesitation, no animosity, just indescribable and uninterrupted pleasure tingling through every nerve — from your curling toes; to the goosebumps erupting on your skin; to the coil pulling tighter, tighter, tighter in your —
“Oh, fuck.”
At his chest-deep groan, you gasped, slapped your hands over your mouth, and screwed your bleary eyes shut. If you couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see you — and you couldn’t bear to look at him. You wouldn’t. You refused to face the mess you’d made of him, or whatever horrified expression he was wearing. The hands over your mouth slid up to cover your eyes.
As he sat back on his knees, Jimin lifted his arm to wipe the remnants of you off his face and onto the back of his hand. You were dripping off his chin, down his neck, to the damp collar of his t-shirt. He was panting, albeit less so than you, but he was beaming. He’d made you cum more times than he could count, but he had never made you cum like that before — and he'd previously considered himself an expert.
He reached up and wrapped his hands around yours, surprised when you allowed him to uncover your face. Cheeks burning pink with embarrassment, you winced when confronted with the sight of your release all over him.
“I don’t — Seriously, I’ve never —” you stammered hopelessly, wanting nothing more than to disappear. If you could, you’d sink completely into the gap between the cushions, never to be seen again, but Jimin wouldn't let you. Embarrassed and near to tears, you peeped, “I’m so sor—”
He let go of your hands and placed a finger over your lips, imploring you to shut up. “That was, without a doubt,” He paused and you withered. Just let me die. “The hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
This floored you and you didn’t know why.
You stared at one another in silent awe for what felt like hours but, in reality, only amounted to a few seconds. Neither of you knew what to do now that you’d made this discovery. The air crackled like static between you, and you each waited on the other to do something.
Jimin could easily tell that no one else had gotten this kind of response from you and secretly, it made him giddy that he was the one to do it. That he was so attuned to you, he could bring you over the edge like that. Before he could talk himself out of doing so, he cupped your flushed face in his hands. Then, without thinking, he pressed his frenzied lips to yours.
For a fraction of a moment, you felt yourself slipping, turning to putty under the surprising heat of his kiss. Then, when you remembered yourself, an alarmed gasp spilled out of your throat. Your fight-or-flight reflex kicked in and you chose both.
Your flailing caused Jimin to lose his balance and fall with a yelp against the arm on his side of the sofa. Simultaneously, your scrambling sent you tumbling off the sofa altogether. Your elbow slammed into the corner of the coffee table on your way down, and you cried out upon impact.
He stared wide-eyed down at you for a split-second, taking in the sight of you clutching your elbow in your opposite hand. You were bleeding — just slightly — and your eyes were starting to swim. Reflexively, Jimin lunged forward to help you, but you recoiled as if he’d burned you.
Just as quickly, his heart swan dove into the cellar of his stomach while his brain tried to square the drastic change in the way you looked at him. The stars in your eyes were gone and all that was left hurt.
“Get out,” your tone was eerily quiet, but unquestionably firm. He blinked back at you, too shocked by your reaction to do a thing. Then, with a voice halfway between a sob and a hiss, you repeated yourself, “Get out of my house, Park!”
Jimin wanted to say something — anything — to fix that broken look on your face, but he could see how much effort you were expending to hold back tears. The more exposed and embarrassed you felt, the worse his presence would make it. So, he called it. He shot you one last, apologetic gaze before he clambered to his feet, slipped into his shoes, and disappeared out your front door.
Even after watching his retreat, you stayed where sat on your floor with your knees hugged to your chest. Your bright white towel would wind up stained, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get up and find a proper bandage. Your elbow looked much worse than it felt — but you felt much worse than you looked. Still dazed, you touched your fingertips to your lips just to find that the heat of his mouth still seemed to linger.
That motherfucker.
The two of you had rules, and in a single day, he’d broken all of them. In one fell swoop, he severed the tightrope you’d been treading along so cautiously; sent you both hurtling towards the dirt. He ruined everything — again — and you fell back into that box you were never permitted to outgrow.
Pathetic little puppy, crying all alone.
Just outside your living room window, Jimin hesitated when he reached his car. He had one hand on the door handle and his keys clutched tightly in the other. He knew he couldn’t stay, but he didn’t feel as though he could go either, so he simply froze where he stood.
Trapped in limbo between what he wanted and what he could have, just like always.
He hoped he would’ve grown out of that gnawing disappointment by now, but those teeth somehow got sharper over time — not duller. To make it all worse, this was the first time he’d seen you in pain that you hadn't specifically requested. The way you looked just then unsettled him deeply. He hated the way you crumpled, how quickly you tore yourself away from him.
It stung — bad.
So much so that Jimin didn’t notice the car driving down your street. He didn’t see its driver, either — unexpectedly in town — nearly hitting the curb upon clocking the familiar frame standing in his baby sister’s driveway.
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a/n: i’m as shocked as you are that i updated this within seven days of the last part ☠️ one nap and six hours of writing later, here we fuckin’ gooooooo!
feedback in any form (reblog, reply, inbox, PM) is sincerely appreciated 💕 tysm for reading, my sweet, sweet beans!!!
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felicitywrites · 2 years
Text
fragments | jimin x reader [special #1]
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | felicitywrites on tumblr (2022) NO reposts, translations, or any type of distribution allowed. 
synopsis: your heart sank to your stomach as you stepped out of your room, and right there in your kitchen was the last person you ever wanted to see again. he acted as though he still lived there with you, knew each and every corner like the back of his hand and you blinked harshly trying to convince yourself you were dreaming. 
impossible. this is impossible. 
what was park jimin doing in your apartment, in your own loose bathrobe, pouring you a cup of coffee as he greeted you with that stupid smile on his face, when three years ago, you were certain he was out of your life forever as he left you here on your own and run into the arms of someone else? this should be a dream, you repeated. 
until you figured out it actually wasn't -- because this was that day, the one before you confronted him about his affair. 
unfortunately, you were about to relive the same day over and over again, and you had absolutely no idea as to why. 
pairing: professor!jimin x author!reader 
genre: 70% angst, 20% smut, 10% fluff
warnings: an emotional rollercoaster, infidelity, betrayal, self-destructive behaviors, unhealthy coping mechanisms, pining, toxic and abusive relationships, self-blaming, gaslighting, smut 
word count: 12.8k
status: COMPLETED
song recs: milk & honey - billie marten (alt version) | the butterfly effect - before you exit | the other - lauv | who - lauv ft. bts 
taglist: @mickmoon @mawwnsterr @peanutbutterjm @sweet--catastrophee @loljrau @bri-mal @christiandosworld @park-jimin-isnt-real 
a/n: someone evil requested this so here you go. anyways, i'd like to point out one thing though, you need to read this without prejudice. it may not be enough to make sense of the ending but this is where maybe you get to see why things happened the way they did. hopefully.
[fic masterlist]
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“Quick question, if I ask you out on a breakfast date, how would you feel?”
“Huh?” your mouth hung open, not knowing how to process the question itself - and the fact that this was the first time someone had asked you such a rhetorical question.
How was Jimin expecting you to answer?
Of course, any kind of date would make the butterflies inside your tummy go wild. 
“Have you ever been on a breakfast date before?” he added, and the look on his face told you he was clearly anticipating a very specific reply, something gratifying.
You smiled, shaking your head as you twirled the pasta with your fork, eyes downcast on your plate you’d been dying to wipe clean but this man before you was too much of a distraction.
“To answer your first question, I would be happy. But… Why breakfast?”
To that, Jimin excitedly hummed, as if he’d been waiting for that moment. He straightened himself, placed his fork and knife back on his plate and looked at you. His eyes were full of life, and you needed a breather. Why were there stars in those eyes? You mentally questioned.
He grinned, resting back on his chair. “Ah, well, you see… I’m a professor, I work from 8AM to 5PM, on Thursdays and Fridays, I have evening classes so I won’t be home until 11PM. Which is why breakfast dates have become my thing. Lunch is okay, but it’s a bit uncomfortable because I’m usually under time pressure then.”
“And lunch is when you cram grading papers for your next class?” you joked, remembering a certain time in your university years when you met and liked one of your female professors who said not everyone in the field is best at planning and journaling. There are a few like her who were spontaneous, or most times, were extreme procrastinators.
You wondered which kind Jimin was.
“Excuse me, miss?” he scoffed, as if offended. “I don’t ever procrastinate. Ever. Namjoon can vouch for me..” he proudly tilted his head to the side, and you fought all odds not to swoon. 
You could swear this man was going to be the end of you.
“Okay, guess I can consider that as… Me having no other choice than to go on an early breakfast date with you? That’s what this is, right?” At that point, you were dreading to run to the restroom and either take a breath or dig a grave for yourself, or both.
His shoulder relaxed, hands reaching for his fork and knife again to get back to his steak before giving you the most beautiful smile on a man you’ve ever seen.
“We’re going on a date then, at 6AM, I’ll pick you up…” he said so casually, without offering you a chance to decline. You never could, anyway.
You rolled your eyes and turned your attention solely on your food, ignoring whatever he’s still on about. Trying your best not to smell how good Park Jimin’s perfume was from your seat, you kept your gaze on your ruined plate, and his fond stares at your face went unnoticed.
He was about to mindlessly say, “You’re really pretty, do people tell you that a lot?” but caught himself before he did. It was easy, and he’s confident you wouldn’t feel uneasy since you’d been there with him for hours. You’ve had plenty of chances to leave and call it a night but you didn’t.
You were enjoying his company and it was obvious to him - just not to you.
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By the time your first date ended and he drove you home, you were halfway through your skincare routine, masked up, hair-tied, watching a late night variety show when Namjoon interrupted your alone time with a call.
You winced at his goofy face on your screen before picking it up, putting him on loudspeaker.
“I know why you’re calling… It was great. Thanks, by the way.”
He laughed, and you heard shuffling, instantly recognizing the possible chaos in his office. “I told you, he’s nice. And hot, right? I’ve tried hooking him up with other colleagues but this is the first time I didn’t have to shove it into him. Just one picture of you with me and he’s nodding his head like a giddy child. He really likes you, Y/N.”
Even from the aloe vera mask on, you could feel the heat rising onto your cheeks. You had to slam the remote to switch off your TV and lay on your back on the bed, eyes at the ceiling. 
You fiddled with the soft material of your pajamas and sighed, “He’s not overbearing, is he? A narcissist? A secret pathological liar? A serial killer? A hardcore–”
“Y/N,” Namjoon choked on his tea, pushing the cup back across the desk then he clutched on the armrest tightly. “He’s always been that sassy and confident. I lived in the dorms with him for years, he’s not a psychopath although he could be a little too assertive and it did annoy me sometimes.”
You nodded, shutting your eyes momentarily to picture his face again. Yeah, he seemed like the type to be confident about himself. And it’s even harder to resist how charming that made him because he’s a professor.
He’s good with words, articulate when he needs to be, smart, hardworking, funny… You stopped listing down his qualities, hearing the doorbell and a couple knocks on the front door.
“Joon? Someone’s here… Wait..”
“At this time of the night? Don’t open yet, look through the hole first. Tell me if—”
You skipped towards the hall and halted at your door, leaning over to peek into the peephole Namjoon himself requested the management for. He’s overprotective like that.
“Oh?” you gawked at the man standing behind the door, hands within his pockets. You held your chest with your hand before turning around to go full-on panic mode. 
“Kim Namjoon!” you whisper-yelled, “Jimin’s here again! I mean, he went up and he’s right outside the door!” you were running into your room, tossing the device across the bed but it landed on the floor. You rushed to take off the mask and wipe your face, pulling at your tied hair so some of the strands would fall loosely on the sides.
“This will do,” you muttered, and dropped the call, leaving Namjoon speaking nonstop to himself. Inhaling deeply, you faced the door and swallowed as you unlocked it with your body stiffening. 
You were greeted by the cold air of midnight, brushing past your skin through your thin cotton pajamas. Park Jimin stood a few steps away from the door, holding a small box in his hand.
It’s not a ring, is it? Impossible. He’s not that type to take things at a full speed, is he?
Your thoughts rambled in your head, eyes glued to the box while he’s staring at you with a smirk growing on his face. It took you a while to recover and when you did, Jimin was stepping closer to you, then slowly reached out to hand you the mysterious box.
He’s opening his mouth before you could even start asking questions after questions.
“I forgot to give this to you earlier. I saw it in my car and… it’s nothing much, but Joon told me you’d been finding it hard to organize your workload and–” you then cut him off, taking the box and harshly tearing it open, revealing a small digital timer in white, covered in bubble wrap.
“How much did he tell you about me? Even that part? Ridiculous…”
Anger started fueling inside you, internally cringing all the while staring at the timer that reminded you of when you started working at Kim Publishing.
“Have you heard of the Pomodoro Technique?” he suddenly asked, face gleaming with curiosity, and your stomach fluttering at the sight of his heavy breathing, telling you he ran all the way back to your apartment unit, sweat running down his jawline.
You’re on a deep-end and it was starting to feel batshit crazy.
You blinked, gulping down the chance you might drool right then and there. “Yeah, in college… Also from a few coworkers. I assume that's what this timer is for?”
He grinned, then nodded hard like a little kid. With his cheeks puffing up, added to the pink blush tinting them, you almost fell to the floor but held yourself straight and managed to take a step forward - for reasons you didn’t want to overthink not doing it when you get to bed.
“Thank you, Jimin.” 
Jimin wasn’t sure if he was taken by you when he arrived at the restaurant that night, or in that moment when you were looking into his eyes with that gorgeous smile on your gorgeous face. He badly wanted to do something he’d thought of doing after some more dates with you - just to be certain you’re on the same page, but you were leaning in before he could gather his thoughts.
You’re going to kiss him on the cheek, somehow wishing it would send him a signal that he’d just passed another stage at getting you - because then you realized you liked him too. Maybe it wasn’t that bad to do it, right? You were on a date with him a few hours ago, if Namjoon told you his friend liked you, should it mean you–
An alarm suddenly went off in your head, the tune similar to your morning alarm tone of your mother singing, and as Jimin’s lips hover over yours so close you could feel his breath, you happened to hear your mother’s voice like it was your subconscious stopping you.
So you did, and you immediately backed away, hearing a teeny tiny gasp from him. Was he going to kiss you back? You harshly bit your lip and looked down, the air thickening around you and Jimin was in utter shock, both by you wanting to kiss him, and you stopping before you could.
“Sorry… I’m sorry, it’s quite late, uh… See you tomorrow? Thank you for this, I truly appreciate it…” you stammered, hands on your sides fumbling over nothing while he was at a loss for words.
If you had access to his mind, you would’ve seen the images he’d put in there about you, which he didn’t want you to know of course, at least not yet - but oh boy, his body’s taking him somewhere and it was tempting–
“Goodnight, Jimin! 6AM, right?” you burst out, and it was a squeal more than anything else. You don’t sleep with guys you’ve just met, not even kiss. It wasn’t a rule, in fact, there were times when you’ve thought about it, especially with that man standing before you.
It had just been a couple hours, Y/N! You scold yourself, whilst gripping the door tightly. You were losing and you knew you couldn’t. Either way, though, he’s letting himself release the possible stress he’d about to lose sleep over.
“Right, uh. I um.. I should go..?” he brought up an ‘OK’ using his thumb over his shoulder, awkwardly looking at you, and you felt like somehow, he deserved to hear your reason as to why you couldn’t kiss him yet. The last thing you wanted was for him to misinterpret it as something else.
“Wait, Jimin–” you held out for him as he turned around, your arm flailing in the air. He peered back and widened his eyes, and you cleared your throat. “It’s not that I don’t want to… you know,” you whispered, darting from his face down to your feet.
“Hey,” he smiled, “I get it. I understand, really… Don’t worry about it.”
“I just… I would like it if we take things slowly, I mean, if that’s okay with you?”
Uncertainty swirled inside you, and you were wondering what he was possibly thinking then. But as you scanned his expression, he spoke even before he could process his own thoughts. He spoke through the surge in his chest, the rapid beating of his heart.
“That would be nice. Let’s do it.”
He’s beaming, crescent eyes shimmering in the dimness of the hall outside your apartment unit. There’s the line you had to keep yourself from crossing, but you’re glad that you could see the willingness in him to follow your own pace. 
Jimin liked you. He really did, and considering breakfast dates as your everyday thing didn’t sound so bad for you anymore, even if you had to wake up a little earlier than normal.
“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll be here…” he glanced at his watch, then back at you. “In 5 hours..” he grinned, shoulders raised as he slipped his hands into his pockets.
You chuckled softly then slowly shut the door when he turned back around and headed for the elevator, waving a hand at you once before entering and you waited until he’s gone.
Your breakfast date with Jimin for the first time was one for the books. 
And it got better and better, the more breakfasts you spent together.
It didn’t take long for you to admit it to Namjoon, how you’ve started developing feelings for his friend. He was more than happy to help you with it, although you weren’t confident that he felt the same at that point.
That was, until Jimin came back home to his childhood home, to his parents – their persistence in pushing him to ‘pick’ any successful woman to marry, as if it was that easy… Marriage, that is.
“Remember that girl you dated in high school? What was her name? Well, we heard she’s a doctor now. Some type of surgeon? Why not find her?”
Jimin’s eyes twitched, his fingers went pale as he gripped his fork tightly. What did she just say? 
“Mom,” he gritted his teeth, looked up and stopped chewing. “You’re joking, right?”
Look who he’s kidding. Jimin knew his mother wasn’t joking. She did want him to settle as soon as possible, and to be a very successful woman – like Yoojin. Yes. Like that woman who broke his heart.
His dad interrupted, wiping cloth over his mouth. “The Min’s… I think they’ve forgiven their daughter for what happened. Have you talked to her?”
“Okay, this is it. I’m done. I’m getting out of here…” Jimin slammed his hands on the table and pushed back his chair, clearly upset. Wishing their son a good marriage with an amazing wife is one thing, but wishing him to be wed to the same person who destroyed him is another.
Jimin hated hearing her name. Just remembering Min Yoojin was like a hard punch in his gut. If they knew the extent of what she had done to him and their relationship, maybe they would have understood – maybe not, because his parents only cared about what they wanted.
And what Jimin wanted? It was to meet someone who wouldn’t simply make him happy, but someone who would hold him, when things weren’t. Someone who’s a little bit stronger than him, but still vulnerable as he is. Someone who would be willing to see the end with him, not leave him hanging in the tracks… Someone permanent.
He’s in the midst of breaking down as he drives back to his apartment when you called, just right on time to offer him a hand.
“So… I made some cannolis. Ever had those? They’re amazing. Okay, are you busy tonight? Uh, I saw this old video shop down the street and wouldn’t you know, they still sell DVDs! There’s your favorite, what was that again?”
No answer. 
“Jimin? Oh… Sorry, am I interrupting.. Sorry, maybe next time–”
“Five minutes. Be there in five,” he barely let out. You seemed to notice the distraught, the silent cries, the faint sniffles. “Something’s wrong? You want to talk about it?”
“I’m here…”
Colors drained out of your face, that was fast. You hurried to the door, fixed your sweats and hair before opening the door. You were right, something’s definitely wrong.
You wanted to jump in and wrap him in the warmest embrace you could ever give, but the look on his face as he stared at you was causing a roar within you. It felt like he was about to tear you down, maybe call it quits – whatever this thing was between you, or as if he was about to confess something horrible you haven’t heard in his life.
The cannolis were probably cold by then, you’d spent hours thinking if it was alright to invite him over. Ironically, words aren't your love language, perhaps it was a very long time ago… but with him, it’s…
Jimin left all his frustrations out the door, the thoughts of Yoojin, his parents who were never satisfied with him despite having achieved everything for them… 
He pushed them out and stepped inside, swiftly removing his shoes and then walking towards you like the clock’s ticking faster by the second.
Your body was pulled into his firm arms before you could even blink, and it was then you realized that in that moment, you didn’t need words to tell him how you felt.
He was crying and smiling all the while smelling roses in your hair, and you were rubbing your palms behind him in comfort, chuckling at how strange her plans had turned out.
“It’s okay… Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
“You… smell so good,” he blurted out of nowhere. You laughed harder, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “Just say I smell like dough, it’s okay.”
He pulled away, still holding you like you were about to run off. The seconds that came after were longer, especially for you. You were thinking a lot – of cold cannolis, of the mess in your kitchen, of whether you showered… How could you forget about that? 
Jimin caught the little shifts in your expression, the way your eyebrows could tell when you’re happy or worried, or when your cheeks would change in their color depending on the level of your anger or excitement.
There’s a whole story just written all over your face, and oh, he would do anything to read through it over and over if he could.
If you would let him.
Which you did.
“Would you like to come in? Or.. are you here just for the food and the uh—the DVDs?”
“If it’s The Notebook, then yes. But I’d love to experience the pastries you made and maybe sit through any movies you picked, with you so…”
You grinned, and maybe it was a bit of a bad timing to do it – but something about the silence tugged and pulled at his heartstrings, and Jimin did what he’d thought of a million times since that first night he met you.
He kissed you.
The world around him drifted, and as he slipped his hand around your neck gently, head tilted to the side, your fears and worries dissipated into the air, into the narrow opening that closed shut as your lips met his and his other hand on your forearm.
It was the kiss that unlocked the lifetime you were going to share with him. 
And maybe in seven years, you would regret that moment, wishing it didn’t happen… Maybe in the next forty years, you would smile through the tears because there were things you should’ve done first. Say, for example, give yourself more time - give him more time to open up.
Maybe you would have known the truth of why he was hurt, or who he was running from.
Maybe in three years, you would have given him a chance at saving you from your nightmares that turned into fears in the day.
Maybe.
But that moment was infinite. Like a thousand galaxies coming together, you and him were witnesses of a love that could bend and break, but also stay above all else hereafter. 
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Your mother fell in love with Jimin on the first day they met.
You’d never seen her that happy in so long. It almost felt like a daydream. The two of them faced each other, sharing stories of the war and the greatest movies of all time.
Jimin glanced over at you, expertly cleaning your aunt’s kitchen counter. You caught his stare, giving him half a smile before rolling your eyes at your mother whose arm was around him, clinging to him like he’s her grown-up child.
“I won’t be surprised if you’d once hoped I were a boy when I was a kid…” you joked, yet it sounded off. She shrugged it off, turning to Jimin. “Oh, did you hear that?”
He laughed along, and if you weren’t distracted by his crescent eyes and that crooked little tooth that you’re sure your mother had been obsessed with as well; 
Then you wouldn’t have noticed how he’s beyond enamored by the relationship you had with your mother. He was happy seeing the two of you act childish together, lose the mother-daughter bond and become best friends who bicker over nonsense.
He silently envied you, for having a mom like that. Someone you can be completely honest with about everything, someone who treats you like the imperfect person you are – and is always open to teaching you the ways of life instead of shoving you into the world without a knowledge of anything, and then expecting you’d learn and adapt as fast.
He envied how your estranged relationship with your father, though it may have been a thorn hooked into your heart, became a reminder for you to take things as carefully as you can.
Jimin invited you to see his parents the week after that, and as expected, his parents weren’t that welcoming. Still, he admired how you handled their animosity towards you.
Or as they labeled it, ‘women like you.’
Your mother had asked you about Yoojin once when you were at the kitchen with her, you never told Jimin. You lied to her, saying you knew her even though you never did.
“She’s a college professor now, just like him…” she bragged, and you nodded, deciding not to seem interested in knowing the woman Jimin once loved in his life.
“It didn’t work out for them, I don’t know what my son did—”
“She cheated on him,” you mumbled, glad that the faucet’s running as Jimin entered the kitchen, making the tension disappear. “Mom? Dad wants you..”
You inhaled deeply when she excused herself, placing the last plate on the rack before wiping your hands on the apron his mother forced you to wear, saying Yoojin gave her that as a gift.
“Hey, what did she say?”
You swallowed, whipping your head with the smile you’ve plastered hard enough that he knew immediately it was forced. 
“Nothing…”
He frowned, “Nothing?” He's quick to reach for your hand, “Pretty sure I heard that name again..”
That’s the thing. Jimin never liked saying her name. Min Yoojin. He told you about her, in bullet form, if you had to describe it. It was as if he listed down information on the woman he dated in college, memorized it and then recited them to you.
You never asked anything more. 
Not even Namjoon heard anything from you.
You just know that he loved her, that it was almost like a fairytale, until she ran away into the arms of a much older man… Disappointed at how simple Jimin was becoming.
You always thought she’s a perfectionist, someone who was raised in a strict household, rich and powerful – people who believed mistakes shouldn’t have room in a person.
Maybe Yoojin didn’t like how heavy Jimin sleeps? 
Or how he gives out retakes on his practical tests to offer his students a chance at passing?
Or when he’s being himself.
It didn’t matter, though. She’s not there anymore. 
But you were.
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Jimin didn’t care if it had only been three years. He was going to propose anyway.
He wanted a future with you. And the way you’d welcome him at home seemed obvious you wanted that too. You told him about having kids of your own, of living in a house on a farm when you grow old. 
Though you never mentioned him in those little dreams of your future, a part of him knew at one point you pictured him in there too. 
You wanted to be honest, he did appear on that porch sitting next to you. 
Or that he cried on the day you’d given birth to your child. 
Or that the ring he gave you had stopped being lonely in your finger… As he himself said it, one day he’ll add two more. 
When Jimin called his parents to tell them what he wanted to do, they didn’t sound pleased, but they let him – though silently hoping it wouldn’t end the way he said it would.
Cruel. Life’s cruel. 
He didn’t get to say it, not even get down on one knee because he learned the truth the hardest way possible. You’re never sure of him.
That you saw him as a reflection of your father, and that image turned your hopes into dust. 
“I’m so sorry, Jimin. She’ll eventually realize how wrong she is about you… It’s our fault she’s like this…”
Or is it Jimin’s fault to believe there was a future for him, with you?
For the next two weeks, you were different.
You rarely ever spoke a word to him, and you started writing again. But you still sent him short love letters in his email, more than enough to get him through the rough day at work.
And whenever he’d come home in the evening, you’d sit on the couch with the saddest smiles he’d seen, but it'd shift into the biggest as soon as you saw him coming in.
He watched you sleep – something he used to do when he still had the energy to spare and keep his eyes open until you drift into your slumber.
Jimin watched and watched, each night, caressing you, searching the answers through the sound of your breathing. What made you feel uncertain of him?
What did he do wrong?
When did everything begin to feel… out of reach?
He couldn’t stop thinking about it since. Coming home was the best part of his day, until the thought of you leaving him would haunt him on his way back to your apartment.
The days felt longer than ever, and coming home scared him then, what if he opened the door and you’re not there anymore?
It sure felt like time was running out.
Three months later and you’re… on an invisible, thin thread. 
“Hey love? Uh, did Namjoon call? We might have to stay in for another two hours. It’s the next edition. Anyways, we’ll catch up at 12?”
Pressing a thumb on the side of his forehead, Jimin swiveled in his chair, deep in thought. 
He’d been thinking about a weekend with you, maybe a trip somewhere and it could be a way for both of you to bond and make up for the time when things were hectic.
Hours ago, he was on his work computer searching for places fit for a weekend getaway, imagining a perfect Sunday where you would walk down the stairs with him on your way to the beach, or you on a dress standing at a balcony looking out in the ocean, him by your side feeling content in your presence.
He believed you needed it too, even more so when he knew you’d been working triple times harder than ever, giving no time to come home and lay in bed with him while he’s still awake, and have breakfast the next morning.
The thought of asking Namjoon about your day instead would often pass him by, but he never did, not when your distance could mean so much more than what anyone would imagine, and Jimin didn’t want to pressure you on anything.
Hovering over your text on his phone screen, his finger quivered at reluctance. He could leave his paperwork and head home, maybe pick you up on his way so you could grab something to eat, but would that be alright with you?
Since when did it feel so odd to ask you how you felt?
Either way, Jimin had to try, otherwise he wouldn’t figure it out.
He texted back, “Do you want me to pick you up at 12? I’m still in the office but I can leave this work for tomorrow and drive home, should I wait for you to finish?”
Jimin felt a knot in his stomach as he sent his text, as if he could already feel the fall before it even happened. Those days were just him bracing for something devastating, it physically hurt.
Pushing his phone across his desk, he laid on his back and shut his eyes for the umpteenth time that day, seeing your face in an instant and the tight pull at his insides caught him breathless – choking almost.
He recalled the last time he felt suffocated, it was when he still lived with his parents. His mother would barge into his bedroom uninvited, listing down opportunities she wanted him to seek. 
Jimin used to be a single-minded person, someone who silently craved simplicity but with a taste of perfection. Unlike his parents, he wanted great things – yet his way of getting them wasn’t sacrificial, he didn’t like too much pressure.
But he had to endure, as he felt it was the only road for him to find his escape one day. If he were to succeed like his parents wanted, then that would mean he could leave and be on his own.
Suffocating – love was like that for him, if he was to speak of his parents’ love. However, Yoojin’s love was something else. It was indescribable, more so like a whirlwind of passion and freedom. 
Yoojin became his reason to leave his parents ultimately, the grip they had on his neck fell off when he told them he was going away with her.
He was free as soon as he held her hand. 
Not knowing how choosing her would make everything even harder for him – staying with her would potentially get himself back to where he came from, how he was with his parents.
His phone rang and he was shaken, eyes narrowing in at the device vibrating across the wooden desk. It’s you. You were calling him, your face lit up the screen as the door to his faculty flew open.
Getting up, he grabbed his phone and answered, his head towards the doorway where someone stood by with a pile of books in both hands, panting heavily, short of breath.
His entire face drained all its color, one hand holding his phone right up by his ear while the other was on his side, seeking refuge on the hem of his pants.
“Hello? Love? Hi, uh, well.. We’re having coffee and some snacks Sooyoung bought, it’s crazy in here, you know? Namjoon is okay driving me home, you don’t need to, okay? Please come home and rest. We’ll catch up, I promise. Hmm? I’m so sorry, but you know how important this is for me. I might get that chance to pitch in my ideas and—”
“It’s okay, I understand… Let me know when you’re on your way, alright? I’ll see you at home.”
His words ran seamlessly, as though they were rehearsed. He had expected it’s possible that you wouldn’t want him to pick you up, or that there could be some other reasons why you couldn’t make it in time to talk to him.
It was the kind of fall that Jimin had learned to anticipate, to brace himself for.
“Bye, babe. I love you…” Your last three words sounded more of a question to him, but somehow, he seemed to have accepted that too. That perhaps, loving him and being with him didn’t feel the same anymore.
Maybe you did see your father a lot in him, that’s why.
Your voice resonated across the room, heard by another presence still shell-shocked at the door. Jimin didn’t say it back, and instead, he swallowed back the lump and locked his phone, slipping it into his drawer before taking a long, harbored breath.
Then there was silence. 
A deafening one.
On the other line, you placed your phone back at the table, and you stared at the screen feeling rather empty. You couldn’t say why, there were no words to explain the numbness in your bones.
Sooyoung leaned over behind you, eyes on your phone where a photo of a lone house stood in the middle of a land, snowed in and cold. She shivered at the sight, at the feeling it evoked.
“Where’d you get that photo?”
You blinked as fast, recovering yourself. Looking up, you saw her sitting down beside you, reading your face. “It’s from a book. Anyway, should we go back? It’s been ten minutes.”
Sooyoung couldn’t read your mind, but she could feel the avoidance, the missing air around you for a while. Weeks ago, your wallpaper was your boyfriend. Then it was that depressing photo of a farmhouse covered in white.
Something was clearly wrong and she wished you would trust her with whatever you’re going through. What she didn’t know then was, you were beginning to feel something you’ve never felt before.
Out of place. You were feeling out of place. You never knew why, until it was too late.
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The most impossible thing he once thought happened right in that moment.
Min Yoojin stood before him, looking just as he had last seen her, except that her hair’s different. She used to shine with her hair, she would spend a lot on caring for it so Jimin could still remember how annoyed she would get when chunks of it failed to cooperate.
He couldn’t process a word or two, not even a single “Hi” as something creeped at the back of his mind. What was she doing there? How did she end up in the same university as him?
He was certain Yoojin left him broken, swore she’d never appear in front of him anymore. She hated him at the very last day, for reasons she still hadn’t explained herself.
There really were no explanations, she just didn’t want someone simple in her life. Someone content like Jimin was becoming. She wanted someone who was out for perfection, and more. 
Someone who wouldn’t stop at anything to achieve their dreams of success. The pressure took a toll on him, and Yoojin hated weakness on men. He was becoming weak, she needed more.
It didn’t seem like that though, as Jimin stared at her, mind filling with more questions he wished it was easy for him to ask. 
“Park Jimin,” his head instantly lifted at that familiarity in that voice that laced a woman he once dedicated his whole life to. “They’re right, you work here. Wow…” she shook her head.
His eyebrows raised, wondering why there was sarcasm in her tone. “I.. I do. I work here. You–why are you here?”
She let out a chuckle, a rather dry, almost bitter one and he flinched at that. “What are the odds, well, I work here too. Since last month…”
Jimin’s brows fell and then creased, in disbelief of how he never heard of such news that she had started working there. “Hm, I didn’t know…”
Yoojin shrugged, lifting her hands that carried a pile of documents and for whatever reason, Jimin found himself skipping towards her, as if on autopilot. He took everything in his arms and she watched, a little surprised but she kept herself collected.
Mumbling a low “Thanks,” Jimin hurried to place them on top of his desk as he scanned each with curiosity. Yoojin reluctantly stepped closer, hands clasping behind her in caution over something she couldn’t explain.
“I found them in my office, uh, right in the drawers and… I thought of throwing them away but they–” Jimin turned around, facing her with one two-paged paper in hand. “They’re survey forms from last year.”
She nodded, smiling a bit. “Yes, from Kim Publishing? That’s… Namjoon’s company, isn’t it?”
He corrected her, “No, it’s still his parents but.. Yeah. They hold surveys here annually, at Liberal Arts. Mostly to figure how many are still interested in print magazines and physical books like–”
“L/N Y/N…” she’s now inches away from him, taking another set of paper from the pile and looking at it, then at Jimin. “She’s…” she stopped herself and glanced around, catching a frame sitting on a shelf. It’s one of your pictures with him, from a winter trip to Gangwon-do. 
Jimin trailed her gaze, widening his eyes as he caught your face smiling back at him and Yoojin. The lump he forced to swallow minutes earlier came back, and his heart tightened at a pull it had on him. 
Yoojin exhaled deeply, sitting herself on a chair in front of his desk, crossing her legs. “I’m assuming you met her through Joon? No?” 
Heaving a sigh, Jimin licked his lips and returned to his chair, resting his back trying to find comfort amidst the tension in the air with Yoojin in the same room as him.
“I did,” he replied casually, looking at a distance. Yoojin was silent for a moment, searching for something in his eyes, his demeanor, there… there’s the sparkle lost somewhere in his face. The way his eyes glimmered, probably thinking of you as he answered.
There was no question if Jimin loved you, Yoojin could see it right there. She could feel it, even in between the gaps that separated his reaction to his worded reply. 
If there was a problem, she knew it didn’t matter to him. He loved you. Perhaps, that was enough at that moment. 
Against her better judgment though, Yoojin urged him to tell her more about you, intrigued by how much he had changed over the years. “What does she do? Is she a writer?”
Jimin sat upright, taking his glasses before pulling out a stack of papers Yoojin brought. He felt the need to distract himself while he talked. “Yes,” he said, reading onto the words from the forms before setting them aside.
“Is she good?” 
“Yes, she is.”
“I see. She seems kind, too.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
He gulped, tilting his head to meet her eyes that pierced through him. She’d moved her chair closer, head laying on her arm. Her hair fell across her face, blinding her sight a little but Jimin could see the pain rising on her skin, tears threatening their way any second.
“Three years..” he replied, “Tell me.. What are you doing here, really?” patience as thin as her willpower to keep herself composed. Three years. Jimin had found her replacement in a year.
Replacement. That was what you were to a woman like Min Yoojin. An insult, almost, to the woman who had everything she ever wanted in her life. 
She wondered if you knew about her, if Jimin told you how much he worshiped her then, how everything he did – he did it for her. 
Did Jimin love you the way he did with her? 
Did he give you the world, and more?
Not realizing what he’s doing, Yoojin winced as she felt a grip on her shoulder, and Jimin stood beside her, glaring at her pathetically. He hated her still, she could feel that too.
Why wouldn’t he? Yoojin destroyed him. She made him feel like he wasn’t enough. She stomped on his pride, on the things he worked hard for. That’s not love, was it? 
You loved him. Not once did he feel any less of a person when you were there. That woman in his office, she broke him, turned him into an empty shell of a man that he swore he would never become. 
Jimin should be home waiting for you, not anywhere else. 
He should be home, to you.
“You should leave, it’s late and I have to go home. Leave those files here, I’ll handle them.”
“I looked for you everywhere, Jimin. It’s how I got here.”
He scoffed, a hand on his hip as he turned away. “What a joke.. Go home, let’s pretend this conversation never happened.”
Yoojin got up, frazzled, “You thought you could just push me away, hm? No. Now that I know where you are, you will never get rid of me, you get that? Whatever it is that you’re going through with her, it’s most probably your fault. She must have seen how you–”
“I’m leaving, Yoojin, you should rest.”
Walking out wasn’t the best option for Jimin, but hurting Yoojin wasn’t either. He pushed off the words she’d thrown him, taking deep breaths on his way to the parking lot. 
She could never get into his head, not anymore. 
What he needed at that second as he stepped on the gas was to get home as fast as he could. 
Home, to you.
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The doors unlocked, the hallway to the living room was dark. Jimin blindly pressed on the lights, the yellow shade warming his presence. You walked out the elevator, seconds away from the front door shutting.
“Wait!” you yelled, catching the door before it automatically locked. Jimin peered over his shoulder, eyes darting from the bags in your hand, then to your face.
“Hey, we were calling you. Namjoon saw you exiting your car but you didn’t answer. I thought you’re already home–”
The bags fell to the ground as Jimin lifted you in his arms, in a tight embrace, one that made your heart flutter. Like it was the first time you were in such proximity. How long has it been since you hugged?
Has it been that long?
Buried in his chest, you smiled at the faint scent of his perfume. His tears ran down his cheeks, and they fell over your hair that smelled like roses – he’s home, at last.
You heard a small sniff and you’re pulling away instantly, holding his face in your warm hands. “Oh no no no why are you crying? What happened?”
He obliged as you dragged him to the couch, sat him down before running to the kitchen for a glass of water, forgetting about the bags by the doorway.
Jimin wiped his tears with a chuckle, and you returned with a frown, handing him the glass to drink. Sitting on the coffee table in front of him, you inspected his face closely. 
It was then when you concluded that indeed, you haven’t spent much time with each other in a long time. His features seemed blurry in your memory, and you battled with the thought that it’s either you’ve been forgetting things a lot frequently those days, or both of you just hadn’t been around that close in a while.
It could have been either of the two, but Jimin left you no time to think as he pushed the empty glass next to you, leaning forward and pressing his wet lips onto yours.
Hands finding his chest, you remembered the four shots of soju Sooyoung offered you after work, when you were left in Namjoon’s office with them. You clearly tasted like soju and kimchi and everything else that you had that day.
Jimin didn’t care. His hands go around your neck, pulling you towards him and you begin to feel hyper-aware of how ridiculous you might have looked like. Still in your work clothes, you felt so grossed out by yourself, yet you couldn’t find it in you to object.
Kissing you fervently, Jimin’s hands traveled down on your sides, pausing at your hips before giving you a chance to breathe. You were already spent, disheveled when you caught the look on his face. 
This was it. 
Your eyes narrowed at the growing smirk he was purposely showing you, and you almost forgot how you were straddling him until he winced beneath you when you moved an inch to the side.
“Stop doing that,” he groaned. “What?” you asked innocently.
He stared directly in your eyes, into your soul. His hands reach back upwards again, to the side of your cheek as he narrowed the distance between you, as though they weren’t enough.
“Nothing, I… I just missed you… a lot,” his forehead touched yours. “Can’t we stay like this forever?” you sighed, threading your fingers into his hair while you whispered, “Something’s wrong, and we need to talk about it, yeah?”
Just a second ago, Jimin wanted another distraction. Something to keep him from thinking about what had been bothering him since his supposed proposal to you. He believed making love could ease the thunder roaring inside of him. The silent cries he wept, overthinking why you’d been distant.
You’re right. Something’s wrong and he needed to tell you all about it.
And you noticed his surrender, his shoulders slumping as he inhaled, fingers fixing loose strands of your hair. You reached for his hand, squeezed it gently, “When was the last time we held each other like this?” you asked.
He bit his bottom lip, “I can’t even remember…” he was being honest. He didn’t know how or why neither of you initiated a move, a sweet kiss before you’d leave for work, a hug after a long day. 
Jimin was at a complete loss. All his overanalyzing led him astray, while all your overcompensating made you lose track of things – even the most important part of your life, you’ve unconsciously taken for granted.
Since your last argument with your father, you turned to isolation. You did it many times before, shutting down when issues come crashing on you. 
Part of your coping caused a rift in your relationship with Jimin, and you had no idea until that moment he was looking at you like he didn’t know what to do anymore.
It’s your fault. It always was. 
“It’s all my fault. I.. I did this, I should have been there for you. Have I been too… distant? That’s it, right? Since… since my father—”
“It’s okay. Nothing’s your fault, love. It’s not like I don’t miss you every day anyway, it’s just – work that’s been stressing me out.”
Lies. It was always easier to lie than having to face his fears. Jimin thought at the last second, that if he told you what was worrying him, or if he confessed to having planned on asking you to marry him, your answer would’ve been something he could never absorb.
If he asked you what made you uncertain of him, he was afraid to hear you disagree – and end up blaming yourself for feeling that way. It would hurt you, worse than how you seemed to be as you were going on and on about how guilty you were for avoiding him.
“It’s my problem. When it comes to him, I didn’t want anyone to feel the weight that I chose to carry myself long ago. Especially you, I can’t just add that to the burden you already have. With your parents, I mean. It’s not… fair.”
“Hey,” he called, following you when you stood and started pacing. “Your problem is my problem too. Didn’t we agree that we’re in this together? I told you, I want to be able to hold you when it gets too heavy, I want to be there for you. My parents, they don’t matter to me as much as yours do and I knew that since we met. It’s alright with me, I just need you to trust me… I’m here.”
That was another problem. You knew he was there. Always. But you tend to fight your battles on your own, not because you couldn’t trust him, but because you couldn’t trust yourself. 
You couldn’t trust that you’re not going to ruin him because of how scared you’d been your whole life. Scared that if he held you and told you everything will be okay, you’d believe him… but something kept gnawing at you, telling you nothing will work out the way you wanted them.
Jimin’s a good man. He was so good to you that sometimes it felt too good to be true. 
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His presence in your life was permanent – and you figured that one out when a few months after that night, you saw him entering your floor at the office, looking dashing in his work suit. 
Sooyoung was pushing your chair as she giggled, your hair was a mess, bags under your eyes. 
“He looks so gorgeous, damn, the interns are asking for a beating from you..”
You shot her a glare and she laughed. “This is embarrassing, what the hell,” you muttered, standing up to meet him as Jimin walked over to your desk, nodding at Sooyoung before she dashed out to call Namjoon on his phone.
“What are you doing here? It’s 3PM???” 
Jimin cracked a smile, boastful as he handed you a card. “We’re going to a party tonight. Just wanted to give this to you to rehearse.”
“Rehearse?”
He nodded, “Mm, your speech. I’ve been promoted as Broadcasting Head and… Hoseok wanted you to say a few words… for me.”
You glanced at the card, a paragraph in his handwriting. Scoffing, you read the words out loud.
“To my beloved–” he cut you off, awkwardly chuckling as he looked around, catching pairs of eyes ogling him and you. “Hey, you told me to rehearse!” 
He grabbed your arms and walked off, and you screamed, “My beloved Park Jimin has been promoted! This is my proudest moment ever!!!” 
Namjoon and Sooyoung halted in their steps, eyes wide open. Jimin’s face was beet red as people caught on to your screaming. He stopped when his friend appeared in his vision.
“You’ve been promoted?” Namjoon asked, and Jimin did his best to hide his blush. Sooyoung grinned beside you, “We should celebrate, right?”
You shook his hand that was still holding you, “Why don’t we go out tonight? For drinks?”
Jimin turned to you, “N-no, we can’t. The party! What about—” he side-eyed Namjoon, “Friday?” 
Namjoon smiled, “Sounds great, Sooyoung?” and Sooyoung was halfway into the hall when she yelled, “Count me in!!!” 
The speech Jimin prepared for you to memorize was full of passion. He sure knew how you admired him not only as your significant other, but him as a teacher as well. It was like you wrote everything yourself. 
It was a beautiful Wednesday night and all eyes were on the two of you since you arrived at the venue. He picked out the dress you had on, and you thought it was pretty. You’ve exchanged greetings with his coworkers and a few student council members he was close with.
If not for the blinding lights and indistinct voices of people surrounding you, with the pounding in your chest as you walked on the podium to make the speech; you would have met Yoojin for the first time up close.
You didn’t even notice how close she was to Jimin, standing side by side with him while you stared at him when you began. 
His smile was alluring, though it was scripted, Jimin was beyond ecstatic to see you up there talking about how proud you were of him. You got rid of the speech he wrote and instead improvised your own, surprising him yet all he could think about was how badly he wanted to run to you and propose right then and there – in front of everyone.
But a pull on his suit and a tap on a microphone swept him away, and you were beaming with joy, thanking everyone as you proceeded to walk off the stage while Jimin glanced to his right where Yoojin was waiting for him.
“Congratulations on becoming Broadcast Head. You’re going to kill it…” she grinned, long, soft curls cascaded her torso, she had the perfectly-fitted lace dress that hugged her figure gorgeously. If you didn’t call out his name, Jimin would have acknowledged how breathtaking Min Yoojin was that night.
“Was I alright up there?” you inquired, popping up behind him with a tug on his clothed arm. “Love?” he looked around immediately, nearly bumping into you. He breathes heavily, forcing out a chuckle that comes out rather tense. You didn’t see Yoojin walk away when you called him, but she saw you. 
The entire night, Yoojin had her eyes on you and him. Like a hawk, she guarded herself in the shadows of the people, poised and proper as expected of the daughter of one of the biggest founders of Jung University. She was indeed breathtaking despite the sternness she showed, the undeniably forced smile - calculated and rehearsed.
To everyone, it was as though she was born for prominence, for immense success and pride. To Jimin, she’s beyond the name and reputation Yoojin was born with.
So, when he cheered and congratulated you for that amazing speech, expressing his own gratitude to you and your kind words; Jimin thought of excusing himself as he caught sight of his mentor, a then retired professor who’s friends with Yoojin’s parents.
Yoojin was exchanging pleasantries with the mentor, whilst side-glancing his way, as if calling him over. She knew how important Professor Kang was to Jimin. She’s a great influence to him as an educator himself, perhaps a figure he took inspiration from his lectures and practices.
He told you about Professor Kang, but to ask you to accompany him to where she was while Yoojin was there caused a strange feeling in his chest to surface. 
Jimin would have to introduce you formally to Yoojin, his ex-girlfriend, and somehow that didn’t sit right with him. Which was why he diverted his attention elsewhere, to you, yet you’ve found an interest in one of his students. 
In the end, he excused himself, and you nodded - too engrossed in a conversation with a couple of Communication majors on the relevance of print industry in the modern-day setting. 
When he’s out of there, headed towards a corner table where Professor Kang, Yoojin, and two other board members sat down, a student of his asked you.
“Ms. L/N, how did you and Professor Park meet?”
Your eyes shimmered, “Oh, uhm, through a friend I work for. I mean.. I work with. They’re college friends and… you know..” 
The student nodded, “I see. Would you mind if I ask how he is as a boyfriend? It’s okay if you don’t want to! I just want to know.”
You didn’t see any harm in that question, sure it was just out of pure curiosity amongst his students. Besides, you’ve been aware of his image around campus, added by Hoseok’s exaggerated stories on Jimin’s students forming a fanclub for him.
You answered, “Professor Park is a passionate man. He works hard, loves hard, I think in the classroom he’s the same? No? But he is thoughtful and loving. And, he talks a lot about his students like you with so much concern.”
The proud smile on your face was unwavering, and his student could only sigh in relief at how similar the professor is outside of the classroom. It made them think of him even higher than they ever had. It was the truth - he loved teaching as much as he loved you. 
That’s what you had always felt about him.
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“It’s saddening to hear you two did not work through your partnership. It would have been a huge deal to our community that both of you represent the institution together.”
Professor Kang had her arms crossed over her fuzzy scarf wrapped around her, and Yoojin’s face contorted into somewhat of a frown, but relieved as soon as Jimin looked at her with a smile that’s more of courtesy and respect.
If not for the thoughts of you lingering in Jimin’s mind throughout the conversation, he would’ve been bothered by the term the professor used. 
She called his former relationship with Yoojin, a mere ‘partnership,’ as if the two of them were nothing but coworkers on a project together.
That’s one of the things that let Jimin down, the fact that he was casted more like a shadow of Min Yoojin - someone who supported the perfect daughter, held her hand through her endeavors while he had to silently battle his own. 
He walked on eggshells around her and the teaching community, and the most upsetting was how it was worse around her family. 
They created an alliance, sort of, with Jimin’s parents, yet it didn’t help him in any way in his career. All he achieved was the fruit of his hard work, maybe Yoojin did pull plenty of strings for him, but his skills were always considered second best to her and everyone in their league.
He was anticipating the similar response Yoojin had in such a statement, but that night was the first time in a long time she surprised him.
“Jimin and I may have chosen different paths but we’re both killing it in the game without a doubt. In fact, he’s been promoted as Broadcast Head. Haven’t you heard?”
“Oh, of course! Well, congratulations Jimin. I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up leading the rest in the future, perhaps alongside President Jung’s son?”
He swallowed, expecting another name to slip out as if he needed connection to survive, but Yoojin reached out for his elbow and put the professor in her place.
She didn’t know why the older woman would treat Jimin that way after everything he helped her with, and the fact that for years, she had been his influence and mentor. 
A part of her once tolerated the harsh treatment everyone had for Jimin. She believed that love was enough to keep him from feeling isolated, however, that reason alone caused Yoojin to feel trapped - eventually leading into her decision to leave him altogether as she thought he wasn't going to strive for more. It was the most selfish thing she’d done, especially to him.
And she deeply regretted that over the years.
Seeing him again as someone beyond the man she had once imagined was rather fulfilling. She felt the power Jimin had all over him then, in her eyes, he became that perfect man she was obsessed with dreaming about.
She wanted him even more than she did before.
Even with your existence.
“He could be the next president without anyone’s help, Professor. I’m certain Professor Jung and his family would agree with me. He’s an important contributor in this university, and will continue to be one, regardless of what everyone says about him. So if you’ll excuse us, I just saw a few of our co-faculty members who have just arrived. It’s been so lovely to see you, Professor Kang. Enjoy the rest of the night!” 
All Jimin could do was bow and let himself be dragged by her, who was beyond exhilarated. Professor Kang clenched her fists around her scarf and frustratedly downed a glass of champagne in defeat.
When the crowd settled and they were outside the suffocating ballroom, Yoojin let go of his wrist and fixed herself, standing meters away from him on one side of the large, empty hallway.
Jimin watched her adjust her dress, pushed her hair behind, and the moment reminded him of his university years, when he was still in the beginning of his relationship with her.
He couldn’t explain why, but there was a split second where he recalled the ring deep in his pocket, the ring he was going to propose to you with - and imagined Yoojin wearing it.
That thought would truly haunt him for decades to count, but the minute Yoojin finally gazed up at him with that familiar smile he was more used to than the practiced one; the world around him froze.
The doors swung open, voices echoed through the walls and the movement was quick to comprehend. Yoojin hurried and grabbed him yet again, pulling him towards the nearest hiding spot she could find. 
A dark, waiting lounge filled with displays of Renaissance art and decoration. The only light source were a few electric candle lamps in each corner of the room.
Catching her breath as she cautiously peeked into the space in between the doors, Jimin choked on his words he was thinking of saying.
He wanted to thank her for what she did, and maybe apologize for how he treated her on that night she came into his office. No words dared to spill.
Jimin didn’t even realize their hands were still together and Yoojin seemed to not have any plan on letting go. She’s facing her, quietly breathing as her head’s lifted up at him. Not able to see her face clearly, he blinked repeatedly to adjust to the dark.
Yoojin wanted him - there were a million ways she could show him that, and she would, if given an ounce of opportunity to chase. 
And there it was, that little chance. So little, none of them could barely feel it.
But then, a phone started ringing. 
Jimin was the first to step back, whole body spinning around to run a hand through his hair. What just happened? What was wrong with him?
Yoojin’s chest ached when he pulled away, her reality hitting hard all at once. She felt hot tears above her cheek, and it didn’t take long for them to stream down when Jimin slipped his hand inside his pocket and took his phone, its ringing sounded like roaring thunder within her body.
His phone screen lit, showing you snuggled into the crook of Jimin’s neck. 
For another second, he looked at her, as though asking permission - she hung her head low and stayed silent. He swiped his thumb and brought the device to his ear.
Your voice drowned out the sobs Yoojin let out, too loud and too distracting for Jimin to ignore. He was drawn back to you - as he should, and it hurt more than anything else.
That little hope disappeared into the night as Jimin apologetically bid his goodbye of a nod before exiting the room, choosing to forget about whatever he felt in that space with Yoojin;
Choosing to push it under the rug like he would always do from then forward.
If not for the news you told him when he returned to your table, you would have smelled the perfume - the unmistakable scent of a woman’s perfume that’s not hers, but you didn’t.
You informed him you two had to leave as your mother was sent to the emergency room for a stomach pain, and you were in tears as Jimin held you on your way to the car.
Watching you weep for your mother even with the good news that it was caused by a mild food poisoning and nothing more, Jimin felt the guilt washing over him. 
He never spoke to anyone about Yoojin and that night - especially to you. 
That was easier than the truth anyway.
Two years passed by in a whiff, and everything was smooth-sailing - you were happier, healthier. Your mother moved near your aunt’s place and started helping her out with her small business, and you’d been promoted once, while Jimin remained the head of his department.
You worked extremely hard to match up your work schedules with his, wanting to solely dedicate your weekends with him. 
Short travels around the country and there were several round trips Jimin booked himself for you. He’d been encouraging you to go back to writing, since you’ve paused to focus on your job as Namjoon’s secretary and your weekly concept-building with your team.
You appreciated the effort he was pouring out of him just to make you write again, and you really did try - though you ended up on a journal instead, opting to document your daily life with him.
Everything was aligned - seamlessly almost, until the conversation of marriage was brought up during a family dinner with his parents. 
The way your face morphed an indescribable expression which Jimin’s mother interpreted as utter refusal on your end, felt like a strike onto Jimin… harder than the first time you unconsciously rejected the idea of marrying him.
He still defended you though, making up an excuse that you’ve been talking about it with him but it may take a while for a decision to come because of work. 
Jimin’s father spoke of his grandchildren he wanted enthusiastically, and your stomach twisted at that. He was looking directly into your eyes as he said it, how he wished he would still be alive by the time you gave birth to them. 
He wanted two grandsons, if possible. You took note of that, seeing how Jimin seemed delighted as much as him. You’re not as hesitant with having children as you were with marriage, yet you haven’t honestly discussed it with Jimin.
You never opened the topic, nor did he, so you figured he wasn’t that interested then. You were wrong, but you never knew - not until it was too late.
He went home with you, depleted as ever, his limbs felt ripped inside and out. You didn’t look so concerned - conscious of his dilemma. 
That night he was going to propose but failed resurfaced as he kissed you good night. He waited until you were far off to sleep, before he sneaked out and drove to the campus, hoping to find peace within the quiet halls of his department building. 
Five years into his relationship with you - and he still didn’t feel enough. Not even deserving for you. He still loved you anyway. Even when he saw a lone figure standing by his office door, facing him, he thought of you all the time.
“Oh, I was just about to see if you’re… Wait, hey… Are you okay?”
He cried on his drive there, messed his hair and smacked his fists onto the wheel - and Yoojin could see the agony in him the second he was close to her.
She took his hands, they’re cold, shivering like the midnight. Without another word, she unlocked the office door for him, using his keys that he had in his other hand. She walked in, pulling him as she moved like she memorized the room.
Sitting him down on the small couch, Yoojin looked for a bottle of water. Jimin always had a few everywhere he went, and she was right. She found one in his bookshelf, and she rushed in twisting it open before handing it to him.
“Drink,” she mumbled, and he did so, eyes far away - out of her reach but she didn’t mind. “Did you forget something here? Were you… cramming the tests?”
He gulped down the rest of the water and crumpled the plastic bottle, tossing it into the trash can. Laying his back against the couch, Jimin brought his arm over his eyes and covered them.
“No. Why are you still here anyway?”
“Good question. I’m checking essays.. Hundreds of them. Wanna see?”
He scoffed, still with his eyes closed. “No thanks. Well, you should go back now. I need some time alone.” she raised her brows, “Why? I can stay here..”
Sitting up straight, Jimin pushed his arm out of his eyes and opened them, immediately catching her round eyes staring back at him. “I need to think…”
That’s the thing, it felt almost surreal - natural for Jimin to be honest with her. Whatever he was thinking at the moment, he would say it, no matter how harsh or real it may be. With Yoojin, his deepest, darkest secrets, the hidden corners of his mind were like an open book.
A part of him would dismiss it as something of a mistake. Yet there’s a bigger part that agreed. Yoojin saw the younger version of him - that little boy who dreamed big, so big he suffered reaching for it. She witnessed him grow, watched the world go smaller and smaller with him.
She may not have seen it then, since she left him to be with someone else, but Jimin held onto that for a long while. Perhaps, until that moment, he still remembered.
Outside the walls of the classrooms they’ve practically lived in since college, their perfect little world was not as pretty - but they made it as one somehow.
Maybe Yoojin forgot about that, he thought. 
He felt for her nonetheless. Because he believed she saw him, the ugliest parts of him.
In the next four hours, you didn’t belong anywhere inside Jimin’s mind. You were tucked away in the crevices of his heart, asleep - lost in the daunting midnight.
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The dawn was when Jimin came home. It happened once, then twice a week. And then you were assigned to lead a feature story on a recording artist and producer, you had to travel back and forth to two different locations every single day for two months.
It was easier to shove the dust underneath the rug, and Jimin would do just that each time he was faced with his troubles with you.
You never spoke about the dinner, or the talk of children that he knew you would prefer than a marriage that could end up in flames like your parents had. 
He was disappointed, but it’s his fault too. He should have been the one to reach out and discuss it with you. Jimin knew that, yet he never had the guts to do it.
A coward and a cheat. He would hide in the safest possible space he could find, in Yoojin’s inviting presence that reminded him he mattered.
They would spend hours in either his office or hers, just sitting down and laughing over nonsense. Drinks were bought, food was made in advance - Yoojin did most of the work, like a guardian angel ready to save him from another despair.
It became a norm - a routine, a habit Jimin could never break. Not even when you finally came home after two months, excitedly jumping and telling him about getting promoted yet again. 
You told him about the praises, the endless compliments you received - the potential deal off of an international publishing house happening because of you.
You never saw the indifference in him, or the scent of another woman’s perfume in his suit. If you did, he would have confessed - that it was Yoojin, but he would be honest.
Nothing more than a shared laughter and infinite conversation happened, at least not yet.
Jimin somehow wished you would figure it out, maybe that way he could find the strength to tell you everything. To admit how lost he’d been - how your crippling fear of a failed marriage consumed the life out of him.
What he didn’t know was that you never even knew that yourself. It might have slipped out that you’re not sure of him before - but it never meant that you didn’t consider settling down with him.
You just needed a push, a reminder, a tug on your sleeve - like the tug on his sleeve Yoojin kept giving him once he’s at the door, ready to come home to you.
“I know you don’t want to talk about this but, why are you still with her despite all this?”
Back then, Jimin had a definite answer. He loved you. But that felt more of a lie than ever. 
He shrugged her off, ignoring the pain in the pit of his stomach. He’d still come home to you - until Yoojin took a bigger risk that Jimin was too weak of a person to ignore.
“I ran into her at a bookstore the other day.. I think she knows who I am,” she told him. It shifted the gears inside his head, putting on his best suit for impact. He needed another escape, another way for you not to catch him.
From running away to leave his problems for a fun, interesting night with his ex-lover, to running away from you. He knew you would hate him. You would laugh and tell him you were right.
That he was the image of your father.
He’s not - at least that’s what he wanted to believe in.
Yoojin convinced him to drive her home, made him think you probably had started to suspect, when all you did was work and try to write. You never had a clue.
What started out as a fun conversation filled with childhood banter and genuine laughter, turned into a reckless escapade of lies, deceit, betrayal.
The sleek movement, of stolen glances and playful stares - caught on by someone who always stood on the sidelines, admiring the likable professor, charismatic and effortlessly beautiful;
There watching the affair gets fueled by the risk of breaking rules and bending morals, was Hyejin. She liked her mentor - from the day he called her name in class, praising her paper.
She knew about the girlfriend for six years at that point, even greeted her at a function where the professor brought her with him. 
Hyejin thought you were as strict and unnerving as Professor Min, but you were far from that. You were beyond what her mentor, the enigmatic department head Park Jimin deserved.
She couldn’t believe how you were able to put up with that man.
But that’s a poison Jimin began to carry around him since he began his illicit affair with Yoojin.
He learned how to deceive everyone around him, worse, including you.
Living a double life was easier than having to keep searching for reasons why you wouldn’t want to marry him, or have children with him. 
If only Hyejin wasn’t the stubborn kind that she was, she would have told you everything. She would have shown you how evil that man had turned into. 
Yet up until the seventh year of your relationship with Jimin, no one had come to share the truth with you - despite the signs being there all along.
You had to find out on your own, without anyone to hold onto - in the worst, possible way.
It was a countdown to the end - clock’s ticking, and it was loud inside your head. You walked up the stairs to his office, greeted by the warm smiles of students and fellow professors. It was a normal weekday, and you were surprising him with a gift.
You held your head high, but not enough for you to stand out - maybe because the majority of the people you came across thought your relationship with Jimin was over.
The last step before reaching his floor, you bumped into someone. Taller than you, pale-skinned, slightly muscular build, in formal, corporate suit. You apologized, and he did too, crouching down to your level as he took the bag from the ground with Jimin’s gift inside.
A silver necklace with a crescent moon pendant. 
You looked up but the man was already staring at you.
“Oh.. I, I’m sorry again.. I didn’t see you…” you stammered, bowing your head at the stranger whose face changed into different expressions so fast in three seconds. “Y/N, right?”
“Yes, wait.. Do I know you? Sorry, I mean, I’m not really good at faces..”
“Min Yoongi,” he extended a handshake, you reluctantly accepted, confusion all over your face. He sighed, “You’re here for… Professor.. Park?” 
You slowly nodded, “Oh, how did you–”
“I’m a psychiatrist, speaking of which, you should go home. It would be better for you…”
“Excuse me?”
“Believe me, in the end you’ll thank me for it. Giving my sister that satisfaction wouldn’t change anything. Go home and think about your life, yourself, your relationship. One day you will remember this moment and realize this isn’t for you.”
This was never for you. He was never for you. Because you were… you were always meant for you - and you only. 
You listened and went home, watched as time turned and turned, reaching its breaking point.
A month later, you picked yourself up and let him go. Let yourself go despite knowing how difficult it would be to fall out of love with someone like Park Jimin.
You’ll have reasons to keep the love flowing out of you for him, a beautiful child who’s the image of you in every sense. But more so, you’ll have reasons to keep the love coming for you and the life you’ve chosen.
Something about time made Jimin feel frozen in place, while you were hours away, speeding like a bullet train ahead. You’re meant to learn things the hard way, but he was meant to learn much harder.
Something about time told you an hour in the future before you passed, that even then if you were given the chance to go back and experience a time in your life;
You wouldn’t have wanted to, at least not anymore - when the course of your life happened because you maneuvered it the best you could.
You lived through the fleeting, little moments of your existence, with the love not even time can measure. It’s endless, infinite - and only yours.
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thebangtancloud · 2 years
Note
Hi! Can you do part 2 to the “they can’t find you after a fight” reaction? Love your writings 💖
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He can't find you after asking you to leave during an argument (part 2) ~ BTS Reactions
Genre: Angst, Fluff
A/n: Some won't have happy endings, just a heads up :)Alsooo I TOTALLY got carried away and wrote too much lol, enjoy!
← Part 1 // BTS Reactions // Masterlist
Kim Namjoon:
Namjoon released a sigh of relief the moment his eyes landed on your figure not too far away from him, jogging up to you and frowning when you didn't look up at him.
"Why did you leave?" Namjoon huffed, wiping his brown and sitting down beside you on the pavement. His leg extended across the road, slipping his hand into his pocket to take your phone out.
"You even left this behind, you scared the shit out of me, (Y/n)."
You looked across at the passing cars without responding, the flashing lights occasionally illuminating your face and making the tears in your eyes visible to Namjoon.
"Baby, I'm sorry," Namjoon whispered under his breath. "I really am. Would you please look at me?"
Namjoon tentatively poked a finger into your forearm, testing the waters to see if you'd react badly. When you didn't, Namjoon delicately slipped his hand into your palm and ran his thumb over the skin of your wrist.
"I'm really sorry. I was being such a jerk."
When a lone tear rolled down the side of your face, Namjoon looked pained. He reached up and wiped it away with the back of his hand, giving it a few more swipes when he accidentally got some of the dirt that was on his hand onto your skin.
"Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"
You breathed out shakily, dropping your gaze and looking down. When Namjoon shuffled closer to you, a tear in his jeans caught your attention.
"What's this?" You reached for the material over his knee. Namjoon quickly jerked away in panic, letting go of your hand and holding it over his knee.
"Nothing," he squeaked, clearing his throat and repeating it again.
"Show me," you placed your hand over his, tugging it away from his jeans. You tenderly touched the denim material that was darkened with dirt and mud, not missing the wince that came from him when you pulled it away from his skin.
"Did you fall?" You looked up into his eyes through the darkness of the night.
"No?"
"Don't lie to me," you snapped, losing your patience. You unlocked your phone to turn the torch on but his warm hand that covered yours stopped you.
"Don't see it."
"Namjoon," you tried to convince him. "Show me."
"No. I've hurt you enough already." Namjoon swallowed thickly, taking your phone away from you and pushing it back into his pocket.
"Seeing how bad it is won't hurt me, Namjoon."
"You sure about that?" He quipped, giving you a pointed look. You sighed, your shoulders dropping in defeat.
"At least tell me what happened."
"I fell for you, again," he smirked to himself when you clicked your tongue, shoving his shoulder lightly.
"Does it hurt?" You placed two delicate fingers over his thigh, frightened that you'd hurt him.
"A little, not as much as I hurt you, though."
"Right," you scoffed under your breath. "You did hurt me."
Namjoon nodded sadly. "I'm really sorry, baby. I didn't even take a moment to think about what you might've been feeling, that was really bad of me. I'm sorry for all the shit I told you."
"It's alri-"
"I'm sorry for asking you to leave the car. That was very low of me. It wasn't safe and I still let you go. I'm sorry."
"It's okay now," you sighed tiredly. "I knew you needed your time to calm down, so I let you be. I also know that you're genuinely sorry, so it's fine now. Let's just go home."
"At times like this, I wish I passed that stupid driving test," he mumbled under his breath. "I can't even drive you back home like a proper boyfriend should."
You snorted, standing up and holding a hand out for him to take.
"I'll teach you how to drive. Because if this ever happens again, I won't be sitting just a few minutes away from you. You'll need a car to find me, then."
"I'll just stick to running."
You gasped at his words.
"Are you saying that this could happen aga-"
Namjoon quickly covered your mouth with his hand, pushing you in the direction of the car.
"No. It's never happening again. Nope."
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Kim Seokjin: (sunburnt Seokjin on demand)
Seokjin felt lightheaded, coming to a stop under a tree and holding a palm over his head.
"Holy shit," he gasped, pushing his fingers into his eyes that were burning. "Why is it so hot?"
Turning to see if he could sit down somewhere for a while, he paused when he caught sight of someone wearing the same shirt that you had worn. Blinking a few times, Seokjin let out a tiny scream, stomping his foot on the ground and looking back at you again.
"At least she's safe," he grumbled, making a run for it and wincing when a drop of sweat slipped into his right eye.
You jumped in surprise when the door of the little shop slammed open, the three heads that were peacefully eating their noodles all turning to look at the source of the noise.
"Looks like you're having fun, huh?" Seokjin exhaled, holding onto the last bit of his anger before deflating into a sigh and shaking his head.
"Why weren't you answering my calls?"
"I didn't want to," you shrugged, picking up your raspberry crush and taking a long sip. "Why were you calling me anyway? I was tempted to just answer and tell you to shut up."
"You should've," Seokjin complained, walking over to sit across from you. You quickly raised your feet from under the table, crossing them and placing them over the cushioned seat that he was going to sit on.
He looked up at you in disbelief.
"Go sit somewhere else."
"Is your name written on this seat that you're not letting me sit?" He sassed, placing the carton of ORS and the chocolate that he had been carrying all this time on the table.
"Actually it is," you took another sip before pointing at the seat. "Look closely."
Seokjin swallowed thickly at the sight of the icy refreshment in your hand, tempted to take it from you and drink the rest of it. Reluctantly detaching his gaze from the glass, Seokjin looked down at the seat to see a tissue placed over it with the words 'Seat reserved for people who are not jerks.'
"Pfft-" Seokjin scoffed, widening his eyes and looking at you like you had grown an extra head. "What the hell?"
"It is what it is, get out. Oh- thank you so much," you bowed gratefully at the old lady who waddled over with a plate of pasta and a warm smile. "This smells delicious."
"Eat well, and don't faint again, okay? I'll get you another juice."
Seokjin's eyes grew twice in size, his head snapping back to you when the lady walked away.
"You fainted?!"
"Not really," you rolled your eyes. "I told her to say that in front of you so that you'd feel like shit."
"You'd never admit that to me if you really did that, (Y/n)," he placed a hand over his hip. "Did you faint?"
"I didn't," you picked up your fork, avoiding his eye. Seokjin breathed out through his nose, taking a step towards you before pushing you further in and sitting beside you.
"Did you faint? I'm asking you for the last time."
"Oh?" your eyebrows raised at his words. "What will you do if I don't tell you? Kick me out of this restaurant?"
"You-" Seokjin resisted the urge to reach for your throat. "Just tell me if you fainted, (Y/n)."
"What will you do if I tell you that I did?" You picked up a lovely amount of the pasta, opening your mouth to take a big bite. Seokjin's eyes followed your movements, silently cursing himself when you sighed at the taste of the pasta.
"You fainted, didn't you?"
"Just for a moment," you mumbled with your mouth full. Seokjin reached for a tissue when he saw the sauce drip down from the side of your mouth, but you wiped it away before he could.
"I walked in here and wanted to ask for a drink, but I fell before I could reach the counter. That old lady helped me up."
"How do you feel right now?" Seokjin bit his lip guiltily.
"I'm fine," you shrugged, "It's been almost half an hour, and I've already had a few sweet things, so I'm alright now."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking down into his lap. "It didn't even strike me that you left without eating. I know how weak you get."
"I left?" you rolled your eyes. "You kicked me out."
"(Y/n)," Seokjin whined, looking away and brushing his hair out of his face. "I'm sorry, I really am. I almost died three deaths while trying to find you."
"You shouldn't have come looking for me," you took another bite of the pasta. "I'd be fine without you."
"But-"
"Actually," you held a hand up in the air. "You'd be fine without me."
"No." He shook his head firmly. "I'm not fine without you. I'm never fine without you."
The corner of your mouth lifted into a smirk, but you hid it by looking back at your plate. "I'd actually love to fight you on that, but I can see that you're not fine without me."
"Huh?"
You laughed lightly when your hand touched the flaming red skin of his forearm. "Poor thing, that probably burned a lot."
Seokjin rolled his eyes, brushing your hand away and taking your glass to finally quench his thirst.
"I went through shit and you're enjoying here."
You shrugged casually, taking the glass back from him before he could finish your juice. "I went through shit too. It's only fair that you get tortured in the heat that you kicked me out into."
"You really have a way of making me feel like I'm the worst husband in the world," he muttered under his breath.
"Are you?"
He grew silent, looking into your eyes that were glassing over with unshed tears.
"I am," he admitted regretfully in a low whisper. "I treated you like shit. I don't even deserve to be your- umph!"
Seokjin almost choked when you shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth, eyes widening in surprise before trying to fit it all into his mouth. You took the tissue that was already in his hand, waiting for him to fit the rest of the pasta in before forcefully wiping at his lips, making him wince in pain.
"You deserve this much, but don't speak the rubbish that you were about to say."
Seokjin nodded, biting slowly and touching the side of his mouth that was burning.
"Sorry."
"You better be."
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Min Yoongi:
It was almost like Yoongi was in someplace he'd probably go to once he'd die; white curtains, the sound of waves from outside the balcony, white walls with little butterflies, and a plain pair of white and black pajamas. He didn't know if he was dreaming, but there was something peaceful about the atmosphere, almost as if he was finally at home.
With you.
The thought made his eyes flutter open, instinctively turning his head to see if you really were there with him. But they landed on the empty spot beside him on the bed.
You weren't there.
Yoongi had somehow gotten used to the fluffy pillow with a lavender case. It reminded him of you. It smelt just like you. It felt like you.
Yoongi wasn't sure if it was normal to personify a pillow the way that he did. He treated it like it was you, live and with him, comforting him when he needs it the most, accompanying him when he felt lonely.
His fingers reached for the pillow again, the flowery scent drawing a deep sigh from the man.
You weren't there.
You hadn't been for the past six days.
Yoongi had begun to wonder if your absence in his life was a hallucination because oddly enough, he didn't hurt as much as he thought it would hurt. It's like you were right there. Somewhere. He couldn't know for sure, but his heart had begun to settle into a peaceful pace.
His soul yearned for you. It made him feel your presence even though his mind knew that you weren't there. It made him hear the uplift of your voice each time you spoke to him. It made him visualize the glistening twinkle in your eye when you gazed up into his own red ones.
He felt you, but he knew you weren't there.
Yoongi couldn't blame you for not showing up. No, he'd never do that. It was entirely his fault, and it took a mere gulp to swallow down his pride and admit that he was wrong.
After that night, Yoongi stopped contacting you. He wondered if you were doing fine, he wondered if you'd been eating your meals on time and if you'd been drinking enough water to keep yourself hydrated.
He wondered if you missed him.
He wondered if you knew how much he missed you.
Perhaps you did... because a knock was all it took for Yoongi to step out of his dreamland and tremble with fear.
"(Y/n)?"
You stood behind the door, holding the handle and pulling forcefully so that he wouldn't open the door. You just needed him to hear what you had to say. You couldn't face him just yet.
"Yoongi," he heard a broken whisper, muffled and soft from the other side of the door.
His own hand shivered as it held onto the handle, giving up trying to open it once he knew what you were trying to do.
"I just needed to hear your voice once before I left."
"Don't go."
Yoongi could feel his heart racing, the blood rushing to his ears, a lone sorrowful tear sliding down his pale cheek.
"Don't go," he repeated.
"I must," he heard you say. "I can't stay here any longer."
"Let me see you once," he pleaded. "Please, just once."
He wasn't sure if you'd already left, because all he got in response was silence.
His breathing fell into a shallow and rapid pace, panicked tears now falling faster than he could control.
"(Y/n)?"
With a little leap that his heart took, Yoongi pushed the handle down, a little cry leaving him when he couldn't feel the force that you had once kept on the handle from the other side. Fearful that he wouldn't see you when he'd open the door, Yoongi stayed frozen with his hand clenched around the handle of the door.
"Let me see you once," he whispered to himself, resting his forehead on the wood. "Please."
It was useless opening the door a few minutes later. You wouldn't have waited. You had probably left the apartment complex and gotten a cab for yourself.
He waited too long. He let himself drown in his own sorrow for too long.
But you had waited longer.
You always did.
Yoongi lost the ability to breath on his own the moment his eyes landed on you.
You'd stayed.
Yoongi felt as though his eyes met yours for a fleeting second, but the burn in his eyes let him know that he'd been staring at you for much longer than he thought.
"Can I hold you?"
Yoongi knew he was testing the limits. He'd been too greedy, too demanding of things when it came to you. But if this was the last of what he'd get to see of you, he could allow himself to be a little more greedy.
"One last time," he breathed out. "Please."
And maybe it had been a dream all along because the scent of your hair had been the same he'd gotten used to. Your skin was soft, just like the pillow that he'd been accustomed to falling asleep with.
Yoongi wasn't sure if the image of you in his arms was one he'd been creating in his mind or if it was real, but if he got the chance to hold you against his chest for the last time, he wouldn't let go of it.
He couldn't let go of you.
"I love you."
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Jung Hoseok:
"Hoseok,"
"Ugh," the distraught man buried, his head further into the mattress, covering both of his ears and shaking his head vigorously.
"Stop. Stop. Please stop."
"Hoseok,"
"Stop!"
Hoseok pulled his knees further up against his chest, his arms trembling and eyes already shedding tears.
"You're not here, but why can I hear you? Please stop. Please!"
"Hoseok-ah!"
Hoseok grew silent, finally snapping back to reality at the sound of Seokjin's voice.
"Get up! (Y/n)'s here."
"What?" Hoseok immediately scrambled out of the bed, messily pulling his pants back into place and smoothening out his hair.
"What do you mean she's here? Where's she?"
Seokjin looked disappointed, looking back at the bed with a slight shake of his head.
"She's still outside. She's refusing to come in."
"What?"
Hoseok didn't give Seokjin any more time to respond before he was making his way through the bedroom door, frantic hands wiping at his tears and using the inside of his shirt to wipe away the saliva that had dried around his lips.
Taking in a deep breath, Hoseok's hand trembled as it reached for the doorknob, twisting it and opening it with a racing heart.
"(Y/n)," Hoseok breathed out at the sight of you in front of him. "I've missed you."
You looked across at the man who stood before you with a light frown. Hoseok gazed at you desperately with puffy eyes and twitching hands, wanting to just reach out to you and hold you.
"Hoseok," you trailed off, looking away and swallowing thickly. "I don't think I can be with you anymore."
"What?" Hoseok felt like he couldn't breathe, his chest tight and jaw falling open. "Why?"
"I can't be with you."
"(Y/n)," he took a desperate step in your direction, his heart physically hurting when you took one step away from him. "Please, you know I was just angry, let's work this out, please."
"I'm sorry, Hoseok," you mumbled under your breath. "I can't do that. I can't hold on anymore, I don't have the strength to fight for us anymore."
"Then let me!" Hoseok boldly took a hold of your hand. "Let me fight for us, please. Just give me one chance to show you how much I love you, one chance to prove to you that I didn't mean anything I said that night. Please!"
"Hoseok," you murmured, looking away and sighing. "I can't just get over what you told me, it has scarred me."
"I'm so sorry," he dreadfully rushed, hoping that you wouldn't just kick him as a reflex when he wrapped his arms around you.
"You know how I get, baby, please," he murmured into your hair.
"I was being an ass, and yes, I deserve to be broken up with, I deserve all of this, but please, please don't. I can't live without you."
You tried your hardest to not react to his words, but when a tear fell onto your shoulder, something tugged at your heart. You didn't want to give in so easily, you couldn't. You weren't so weak.
"I'll make it up to you, I promise," he vowed, pulling away and holding your face tenderly within his palms. "Please give me a chance to show you how much I regret doing what I did that day."
"Hobi," you finally exhaled, looking down at your feet. "Truth be told, I want to be with you too, I love you... but I need some time away, can you give me that?"
"Where do you want to go?" he inquired, sniffling hard and tucking your hair behind your ear. "Hmm? Tell me, I'll take you there."
"Hobi, no..." you shook your head. "I need some time away from you."
"Oh," he blinked, nodding a little after that. "Yeah, no problem, take all the time you need, as long as you come back to me. You'll come back right?"
For the first time that evening, your eyes glossed over with tears.
"I can't let you go otherwise," he decided with a firm nod of his head. "I can't risk losing you. I'll let you pull my hair out and kick me out ten times but I'll still stick to you like a leech."
"Right," you rolled your eyes. "I don't need that."
"But I need you."
"Hobi," you whined, pushing him away from you. "I didn't come here for this. I just need you to know that I'm going away for a while."
"But you're coming back right?"
You clicked your tongue, huffing in exasperation and looking back at the door.
"You're being annoying."
"I know," he easily accepted. "But I can't let you go if you're not coming back. No."
"Okay okay fine," you threw your hands up in defeat. "God, you never let me even scare you the way you've scared me."
"You have no idea how scared I am right now," Hoseok admitted.
"I'm sorry, baby. For everything. I really am, I don't know how to prove it to you. I'll let you go, if that's what you need, but I just need you to come back to me. Please, don't give up on us. Not because of how much of an ass I've been. Please."
"Ugh," you groaned in conflict, covering your eyes with both of your hands.
"Okay, fine. I'll come back. That was the plan anyway, I just came here to tell you about it."
"Promise?" Hoseok held his little finger up in the air. You looked at it for a moment before laughing dryly and interlinking your pinky with his.
"Yeah, I promise."
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Park Jimin:
"I knew I'd find you here."
You turned to look back at Jimin who stood by the entrance of the church, a bouquet of white roses in his hand. Jimin stood still for just a moment, letting his eyes run over your form before he began to walk towards you timidly.
"Why are you here, Jimin?"
"I came to look for you," he murmured gently, choosing not to sit and instead knelt before you. You looked into his eyes, blinking away your tears and looking back at the alter in pain.
"I want to be alone."
"You've been alone for too long," Jimin whispered, placing the flowers in your lap and looking down at his fingers in regret. "I'm sorry I've left you alone."
"Where is-"
"She's sleeping at your friend's place. Safe, don't worry."
You nodded, breathing in deeply and looking down at the roses.
"When we were here a few years ago, I promised to stand by your side throughout everything. I'm sorry that I failed to do that."
Your eyes flitted up to the empty space before the altar, a red carpet that was once lined with white roses on the day of your wedding pulling a sigh from you.
"I've failed in many ways, and I want to thank you for never making me feel bad about it, even though I should. I deserve to be yelled at, I deserve to be insulted for the way I've been treating you and our daughter, but the one time that you tried to show me just how wrong I've been, I hurt you instead."
"Jimin..."
"I know," he whispered. "I've thought over everything you've said. Everything. You're right. You're right in every way and I'm sorry for not realizing that."
"It's not about who's right and wrong, Jimin," you shook your head. "I just want you to be there."
Jimin swallowed thickly, nodding and quickly looking down to hide the tear that slipped past his eyelid.
"I know, I'm sorry."
You sighed, looking up and closing your eyes.
"I don't know what else to say, Jimin."
"You don't need to say anything," Jimin wiped his cheek when he saw that you weren't looking. "You don't even need to forgive me. I'll work for it. I'll be there, for both of you. I'll show you."
You finally looked into the eyes of your husband, reaching a hand for him and tenderly touching the back of his hand.
"That's all I need."
"I want to give you more than just what you need, dear," Jimin looked down at the ring on your finger. "I also want to give you everything you want. Everything you want but never say."
"It's alright, Jimin," you shook your head. "We don't live in a fantasy world. Having you is all that I need - all that I want."
"I had also promised to treat you like a queen," Jimin turned to look back at the altar. "Not just any queen. My queen. I promised to make you smile over little things for no reason at all and I've failed at doing that too."
"You haven't been smiling much either."
"We'll talk about me later," Jimin insisted. "I've promised you the happiness that I failed to give you. I'm sorry."
"Jimin," you chuckled dryly. "You're making me feel bad now."
"Why?" He searched your eyes for an answer. "You don't need to feel bad, that's my job for now."
"It isn't anyone's job to feel bad," you reminded him. "Let's work through this and just get back to being happy again, Jimin."
"Okay," he nodded, straightening up and reaching for your other hand. "I'll make you happy, I promise."
You smiled softly at him, nodding a little. "Okay."
You noticed a little sparkly in Jimin's eye that you hadn't seen before, but before you could ask him, Jimin touched the side of your face as softly as he could.
"Will you dance with me?"
"Right now?"
"It's raining outside."
You turned to look outside the door, a tiny smile growing on your face at the memory of having your first dance with Jimin in the rain.
"Come," Jimin stood, holding your hand and guiding you up. You barely had a moment to place the flowers down before you were tugged towards the door, little joyous giggles pouring out of Jimin's chest when he ran out with you right behind him.
"Ah," you gasped at the cold droplets of rain that hit your skin, squinting and looking across at Jimin who was already looking at you with a grin.
"Dance with me?"
You looked at his palm that was extended out to you, slipping your fingers into his hand with a firm nod.
"I'd love to."
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Kim Taehyung:
"What a sight to behold."
Taehyung's hand froze mid-air, the sound of your voice instantly bringing tears to his eyes.
"The Kim Taehyung is making coffee for himself."
"(Y/n)," Taehyung whispered in disbelief, dropping the spoon onto the counter and rushing towards you. His hand circled behind your head, tenderly holding you right up against him, his chest trembling as he tried not to ugly cry right into your shoulder.
"I thought you left."
"You left me, Taehyung," you reminded him with a muffled voice, turning your head a little so that you could breathe better. Gently resting your cheek against his collarbone, you repeated your words again.
"You left me."
"I'm sorry," he blubbered, inhaling sharply and wiping away his tears with one hand, never once leaving you. "I'm so sorry, that was so stupid of me, I'm so sorry."
Sighed softly, you nodded, finally letting your walls down and taking a hold of his sweater to pull him even closer.
"What you did really hurt me, but I told you then - and I'm telling you now - we have a lot of time to work this out."
"I just don't ever want you to leave," he admitted in a broken whisper. "The thought that you'll be moving away from me scared me to death."
"My little dummy," you cooed, pulling away and lightly hitting the side of his head. "You're too rich to even think of what I had in mind, silly."
"What?" he sniffled. "What does that mean?"
"Shall we sit and talk first? My feet are killing me."
"Oh- yeah yeah, come." Taehyung gripped your elbow, pulling you towards the couch before walking to the corner, disconnecting the lamp and putting it on the floor so that he could lift the little table and bring it for you to place your feet on.
"Here," he put a cushion beneath your feet, lifting both of them up and adjusting it so that you'd be comfortable. "Better?"
"Mhm," you nodded. "Come sit next to me."
Taehyung plopped down beside you, instantly reaching for your hand and pulling it into his lap, holding it as if you'd disappear any moment.
"To be honest," you began, "The moment I bought the house, you were the first person I wanted to tell. I really expected you to be on top of the world. I thought you'd be happy for me."
"I am..." Taehyung trailed off. "But I thought you were being dismissive of our relationship."
"Exactly. When you reacted badly, I got so upset, I immediately built these walls around me, you know?" You looked up into Taehyung's eyes, hoping that he was following you.
"You were the one person I wanted to share my happiness with but when I didn't see you being happy, that made me really upset. So in the heat of the moment, I let my mouth run too."
"How?" Taehyung wondered.
"I didn't mean it when I said that you were stopping me from living my dreams," you sighed sadly. "I guess I just wanted to hurt you at that moment the way you hurt me. I know you always want the best for me, I really do. I'm sorry I said that."
"Baby," Taehyung shook his head. "I'm not even bothered about that. If I'm being honest, I don't even remember the fight, all I could think of was that you left and I didn't get to even hold you once."
You chuckled light-heartedly. "I'm glad you don't remember it, but this is what caused the fight anyway- or rather the part where you kicked me out of your car."
"Shit," he looked away and cursed under his breath. "It sounds so much worse when I hear you say that."
"It was horrible," you nodded. "I didn't even know where I was at that time, but coming back to the point - you told me to leave only when I said that you were stopping me from living my dreams. So I understand where you're coming from."
"You're not supposed to be this understanding," Taehyung frowned sadly. "You're supposed to be mad at me and yell at me for kicking you out of my car. That was the cheapest thing I could've ever done. Shit- I'm so sorry."
"Oh, stop already," you waved him off. "What's done is done, we can't go back in time and make you not kick me out of the car, can we?"
Taehyung's lips pursed into a tight line.
"What I actually wanted to tell you was that me buying that house has a whole different purpose. Sure, I was angry and shit and I just kept telling you things that weren't true, so excuse me for that. The real reason why I bought that house is because it's an excellent investment."
"I know," Taehyung nodded in understanding. "When I explained this situation to Yoongi hyung, he told me the same thing."
"You spoke to Yoongi?"
"Who do you think told me to make the coffee?"
"Yoongi asked you to make coffee?"
Taehyung rolled his eyes. "He said since I hate it so much, at least it would distract me from the guilt of kicking you out of the car. And something along the lines of, 'you might even begin to like coffee,' and blah blah blah."
"Right," you chuckled. "Yoongi can't understand why you don't like coffee."
"It tastes like ass."
"How do you know what ass tastes like?"
Taehyung smirked, shrugging and choosing not to reply.
"Right- so the investment," you continued. "I have something under my name now, and the apartment is in a residential complex that's literally in the center of the city, which means that the value of the flat will increase in a few years."
"I know," Taehyung repeated. "Yoongi hyung told me everything, so you don't need to explain, okay?"
"Taehyung," you patted his thigh to get him to listen to you. "My point is that I don't need to live there."
His eyebrows raised in wonder. "Really?"
"I'll probably put that flat up for rent soon, that's what I've been meaning to say."
"Oh," he trailed off with a distracted nod, "I didn't even think about that."
"It really hurt my heart when you told me that I wasn't thinking about us, Tae," you tenderly ran your thumb over his knuckles. "I'm sorry I made you feel like I wasn't thinking about us."
"Aye," Taehyung waved his hand in the air like it was no big deal. "I was just scared, that's all. Don't stress about it."
"I should," you pressed. "No one should make their partner feel that way. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too, Jagiya," Taehyung lifted your hand so that he could place a tiny kiss on the back of your hand. "I hurt you as well. Probably much more than you think you've hurt me."
"It's okay now," you chuckled lightly. "I'm fine, as long as I'm with you."
"Surprisingly, I'm fine too. I'm so happy you're back home, with me. That's all I've ever wanted, all I really asked for."
"You're being too sweet, no?"
"Only for you, Jagiya."
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Jeon Jungkook:
"Jungkook-ah," Namjoon called out for the younger man who stumbled to the side of the stage and fell onto his knees.
"Can someone get me some water?" Namjoon gestured to the staff members who were already crowding around Jungkook.
Jungkook kept his head low, his mic turned off and lying right beside him on the flooring. When Namjoon kindly asked the rest of the female staff to move away, he quietly knelt beside Jungkook and placed a comforting hand over his back.
"You okay?"
Jungkook breathed out heavily with a weak shake of his head.
"I feel dizzy."
"Can you continue the show?" Namjoon gently whispered, running his palm along the length of Jungkook's back. Jungkook took a moment to think, before shaking his head again.
"Not sure."
"No problem," Namjoon instantly nodded, looking up and thanking the staff who returned with a cold bottle of water.
"Have some water and then go rest."
"Hyung," Jungkook looked up weakly. "Did she call?"
Namjoon looked pained, sighing deeply and wiping off the sweat that was dripping from his eyebrow.
"She did."
Jungkook felt his breath hitch, his mind going a bit hazy but fighting hard to hold onto his consciousness.
"What did she say?"
"She's leaving the state for a while, going back to her brother's place."
"Did she tell you when she'd be back?"
Namjoon looked away briefly, setting his own mic down and blowing out a puff of hot air.
"I'm not sure she'll come back, Jungkook-ah."
Jungkook inhaled shakily, falling to the side so that he wasn't on his knees anymore. A few staff members who were standing at a distance instantly rushed forwards to help the boy up.
"I'm not sure he can perform any longer, just let him rest, wouldn't want to hurt him even more," Namjoon briefly explained to his manager who was holding an icepack to the boy's forehead in worry.
"What's happening?"
"He's feeling dizzy, just take him in and let him lie down, I'll explain the situation to everyone."
Jungkook's eyes fluttered closed, the sounds around him tuning out into a ringing buzz, the only thought on his mind was that you weren't coming back.
He drove you away.
At a time when you might've needed him the most, he let you down and pushed you away. Jungkook finally realized that whatever courage you must've mustered up at that moment to finally let down your walls and talk to him about your life had been completely crushed by the weight of his insults.
It had been three weeks since that day. Three weeks since Jungkook spent that entire night out on the streets looking for you. Three weeks since he'd begun to sleep the whole day and spend the rest of the night drinking away his regrets.
Three weeks without you was enough torture for him - the little hope that he had left within him finally evaporating into thin air like it had never even been there in the first place.
With a final heave of regret, Jungkook slumped into the arms of the staff member who was holding onto him, a series of panicked yells filling the confined space backstage.
"Hyung, what happened?" Taehyung and Jimin came rushing towards the commotion, worried eyes following the people who were carrying Jungkook's unconscious form further in.
"Did he pass out?"
"What happened?"
Namjoon remained on the floor, the tips of his fingers pushing into the bridge of his nose, breathing wearily. Maybe this was for the best, for both Jungkook and you. Maybe this distance would somehow heal the two of you.
And if that was the case, Namjoon would have to hold on just a little more so that he could be strong for both of his best friends.
"He's reached his limit."
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