#park jimin fanfic

[hoseokshobagi]

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ | Sneak peak | PJM

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ sneak peak

✞PAIRING: demon!jimin x fem!reader

✞ 【SUMMARY】: for years jimin was your constant and loyal companion in the church, a shining example of humility and compassion. but when he was tragically taken from the world before he could experience life, his heart was filled with anger and resentment. and so, in a moment of weakness, he struck a deal with the devil, trading his soul for a second chance at life. but when he returned, he was no longer your kind and devoted boy you once knew.

✞ 『GENRE』: dark ✟ supernatural ✟ fantasy ✟ angst ✟ smut

✞ RATING: 18+ / minors do not interact

✞ WORD COUNT: loading...

✞ [WARNINGS/TAGS] : dead dove, dark, death, manipulation, corruption (kink?), church & religion, blasphemy & desecration, [oral(m) - not with reader, headpusher jimin, face fucking, spit play], dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, dubcon, public fingering, exhibitionism, sexual "nightmares" & hallucinations, mind games, jimin is the worst & the BIGGEST warning!!!!, oral(f), cunt drunk jimin, unprotected sex, rough sex, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, unrealistic amount of cum lmao, cum play, betrayal, mind break

✞ NOTE: hi beautiful people!!! this story was written for the @btsfests writing fest. actually this is the first time i publish my writing and omg ahcbdjs i'm so nervous while writing this note. i always wrote for myself and my closest friends but thanks to bts fests and their never ending encouraging words i decided to show off my writing. this little part is the reason why i started writing this whole story and i hope you'll like it just as much as i enjoyed writing every word. :] this demon jimin is the most cunty & selfish character i've written so far so yall better prepare yourselves ajfnsjxnsjs

english is not my native language, but despite that i'll write and communicate in english. please if you see an error in my writing or grammar lmk!! <3

my dearest beta read: @liveyun 🐢♡

COMING SOON

❗this is the darkest fic i've ever written so please read all the warnings before reading❗

The delicate chimes of the church bell echoed softly through the cavernous rafters, casting an unsettling shadow over Jimin’s mind. Like ghostly whispers emanating from the very walls and pillars of the church, the sounds seemed to taunt him. Whispering to him that he no longer belonged in this sacred space.  

He couldn’t believe how he used to devour Father Seokjin’s every word, eagerly drinking up his sermons like it was the finest wine he ever tasted. In this very church, where he had spent countless hours sitting in the pews, Jimin felt like a stranger in the world he once called home.   

He looked to his left and gazed upon the sweet, delicate flower — the very reason why he was there. Innocence shining in your eyes, your eyelashes fluttered like the softest butterfly wings. Sitting next to him with hands clasped tightly together in your lap, you looked as pure as new snow, listening to the mass.  

Oh, how much he forced himself to resist the urge to reach out and ruin you right then and there. To feel the delicate petals of your innocence as they crumpled beneath his fingers. But he was going to do so slowly, savoring every moment of your fall from grace.   

So, he grit his teeth and forced himself to endure the priest’s words and the choir’s music, at least, for a while.   

Despite his best efforts, this place was as dull and lifeless as the stones that made up its walls. He spent half of his life trapped within these confines, he knew every creak of the floorboards, every flicker of light, every word and phrase of the Bible that was engraved in his mind, the product of countless wasted years.  

Jimin raised a hand to his face, tracing each perfect curve of his newly manicured nails, scrutinizing them from every angle. He raised an eyebrow in anticipation, marveling at Hoseok’s handiwork.  

He couldn’t wait to make another deal with the bastard later.  

You noticed his attention was drifting and Jimin’s reverie was broken by a gentle tap on his shoulder, causing his thoughts to come crashing down around him like a house of cards. He turned to see your confused eyes peering up at him, your delicate lips murmuring a soft “pray”.   

He couldn’t help but mentally roll his eyes. Oh, you were so annoying. He was going to make you pay for all the stress and frustration that he had to go through and endure because of you.   

Jimin lowered his head and with a deep breath, closed his eyes, pretending as if he was lost in prayer, his mind far from it. Wandering anywhere but there.  

As you finally turned back to offer your own prayers, he couldn’t resist and raised his eyes, glancing back at you.  

And he was so fucked.   

You were a sight to behold, more divine than the sacred paintings that adorned the walls of this church.  

As your eyes drifted shut, your lashes like feathers of a sleeping bird, delicately brushed the curves of your eyes. The soft radiance of the lights danced upon your face, creating a tender veil of shadows that caressed your skin.   

Your lips moved in silent devotion as you murmured in such sincerity, clutching the Holy Book tightly in your hands. And he swears, he could feel his dick twitch just at the sight.   

You were so breakable, so vulnerable and so fucking beautiful.   

Yeah, he was so fucked. So lost in you.   

Park’s burning desires had been building to a crescendo in the last few days, a boiling point that seemed to threaten to engulf him whole. He felt like his longing for you was an aching fire that was on the verge of exploding. The mere sight of you at the church was a powerful trigger to him, fanning the flames for this fire.   

And he thought it was ridiculous.   

He couldn’t believe how he couldn’t control himself, his body yearning for yours, needing to stain the purity of your grace, to spread his sin all around your soul. To corrupt the sacredness of who you were with the foulness of who he had become.  

He glanced around and took in the sights and sounds of the church, noticing that everyone was enraptured by the mass. Their focus was solely on the priest at the cathedral, their attention directed nowhere else.   

With a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he slipped closer to you and your sweet scent filled his nostrils; making him feel intoxicated. He knew exactly what he had to do; a little play won’t hurt anyone.  

Jimin’s touch was like a gentle caress of a summer breeze, soft and tender, caressing your skin like the lightest of kisses. Your eyes flicked open, searching for the source of such unexpected warmth.   

And there he was, with his legs crossed, - his gaze fixed on you with such intensity that always made your cheeks warm for some reason – one arm resting comfortably on his elbow on the church pew, the other continuing to idly play with the soft fabric of your long skirt.   

You never wore anything revealing; preferring modesty over anything else, however this time, you felt utterly exposed as his eyes roamed over your form like that. Jimin always enjoyed this, stripping away your layers one by one, revealing the true you that lay beneath.  

Slowly he drew near, his aura spreading like a thick mist, wrapping around you. The scent of his cologne swirled around as his body pressed against yours, his knee gently nudging yours. His warm breath brushed against your cheeks, like the caress of a dead night.   

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Keep praying." You looked at his hand, still playing with your skirt, unsure of what to say. Jimin’s voice was calm and soft, yet, there was something about his dark eyes that made you feel uneasy. Like he was biding his time, planning his next move.   

It clearly made you uncomfortable, but you were too naive to say anything, too afraid to speak your mind, not to mention that you were sure Jimin would never do anything wrong, so you turned back again and closed your eyes to pray.   

But what you didn’t know was that you were already entangled by the snake’s coils; Jimin waited for the moment when you would break. He was so curious, so eager to see just how far you would go, how much you would endure before you finally stepped up and told him to stop.  

Would you wrench his hand away? Would you yell at him? Would you make a scene in the middle of the church? He knew you wouldn’t, knew you were just too gentle and too timid to disrespect your favorite little church.   

And so, he kept pushing, pushing your boundaries and invading your personal space, inch by inch, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in the wake of his touch.  

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying desperately to break free from his touch, but he only tightened his grip, making your heart race with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.  

"Jimin, can you please stop?" Oh, that was it. Your question was hardly above a whisper, as though afraid of you would be heard by those around you. The snake’s grip finally ensnared his delicate, little flower and he had no intention of stopping.  

„Keep it down. You wouldn’t wanna disturb the praying souls now, would you?”   

A devilish smirk played on his lips, eyes like black holes bearing down at you. His voice was like honey dripping from his lips; so soft and alluring. A stark contrast to the real meaning behind his words and actions. He continued to run his hand up your thigh, pushing your long skirt higher and higher until it was bunched around your waist.  

"Jimin, st—" His other hand slithered around from the back of your neck, forcefully covering your mouth, silencing any words that wanted to escape your lips. Whatever you tried to say it came out muffled by his hand, leaving you feeling panicked and completely helpless.   

You grasped at the material like a lifeline, desperate to pull it back down, but Jimin’s arm was like a steel barricade, preventing you from covering yourself. You felt trapped, your body burning with the shame of exposure. 

 "I said keep your mouth shut. We don’t want others to see you like this, do we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to escape as the fear of being discovered and shamed in front of everyone took over. All you could do was fix your gaze on Jimin’s intense, brooding eyes, silently pleading for mercy with your own desperate ones. Ah, so pretty for him.  

As you gazed into the depths of his dark eyes, the windows to his no longer existing a soul, you revealed a darkness that engulfed you, and you knew there was no escape.  

You were at his mercy, and he had none. 

Jimin’s pupils dilated at the sight, your skin was soft and flawless, causing a shiver to run down his spine as he gently touched you. The delicate fabric of your white panties teased him, giving him just a glimpse of what was hidden underneath.   

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he lazily played with the tiny, little, pink bow adorning the center of your panties. His actions were a clear taunt, a display of the control he had over you and your vulnerabilities.  

It was clear you wanted to push him away, to scold him, yell at him, but he knew the fear of causing a scene in church held you back. You tried to glance around nervously, hoping no one would notice what was happening.   

The world seemed to come to a standstill, the only thing that existed was the fast, thumping beat of your heart as Jimin’s hand slithered closer and closer to the place where it had no business being. You felt trapped, your body frozen, unable to break free as if you were held captive by a coiled serpent;  its grip tightening with each struggle. The sound of your unsteady breaths filled the air, the only thing grounding you in reality, that, and the heat from his touch, because this serpent was crafted from the finest satin. 

„Shh, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, keep praying so God won’t mind, yeah?”   

His words made you paralyzed, like a spell, breaking you down. Words like those should never have left the lips of the kind and caring Jimin that you thought you knew. Your mind was reeling with shock and pain, struggling to make sense of how someone you had trusted completely could suddenly become a stranger. Jimin’s actions were like a knife to your heart, a stab that pierced through the trust you had placed in him.   

With the grace of a feather dancing on skin, Jimin traced his fingers over your clothed clit, making you tremble beneath his touch. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your eyes widening as you felt the weight of the moment sinking in.  

And he chuckled softly, a low rumble that only you could hear, taking your response as a cue, he increased the pressure. His skilled fingers now applied a firm yet tender touch, coaxing your body to new heights of pleasure, and your body tingled in response, betraying you by a throbbing ache that grew stronger with every touch.  

As the ripples of pleasure swirled within you, you tried to pull back, to resist the sin that was happening in the very place where you sought solace and salvation. The guilt gnawed at your soul, the snake’s venom that seeped into every crevice, tainting the flower’s beauty.   

And yet, Jimin reveled in your pain, basking in the darkness of your suffering as he watched the guilt consume you whole. The venom of your remorse was a feast for his senses; the holy wine, the sweetest elixir to be savored with every devious sip.  

"Look, what do we have in here." He pressed his thumb against the dark spot on your panties, causing you to shiver. For him, the sensations of your wetness seeping through the fabric was like an euphoric rush, the sweet nectar of his delicate flower, intoxicating and irresistible.  

Heat spread across your cheeks, horror and shame washing over you at his words, you shook your head, tried to move, tried to tell him to stop, but you found yourself lost in his eyes, searching for any sign of the person you once knew. But all you saw was darkness, a void that seemed to swallow you whole.  

"Deny it if you want, baby, but aren’t you a nasty girl? You’re fucking soaking."

And it was true. Your body felt like it was betraying you, and you were mortified. He ignited a fire within you that you couldn’t deny. A soft cry slipped from your lips, but you couldn’t bear to face him, knowing that you were powerless in his grasp.  

You were unable to believe what was happening. As someone who had always followed the Catholic faith and held its teachings in high regard, there you were, in this sacred place, allowing something so forbidden to take place.  

But as his fingers slipped under the fabric of your panties, your mind went blank. The back of Jimin’s hand clung to your sticky panties as his fingers found their way down to your folds, the feeling making him shiver. 

„Fuck— you’re so wet, can’t wait to feel you around me.”   

You squeezed your lips together under Jimin’s hand to keep from making any noise, your eyes squeezed shut, tears threatened to spill down your cheeks as his wet fingers continued to rub and spread your folds apart, smearing your sticky arousal all over your cunt.  

„Shh, this won’t make you a sinner baby, it’s okay. You won’t mind just one finger inside, yeah?” His middle finger probed at your entrance, teasing it, making it wetter still, as he slowly pushed in.  

„Y-yeah baby— just one finger?” He teased and removed his finger, making you clench around thin air, and Jimin swears, the feeling made him twitch inside his pants. Teasing you – or himself, it didn’t matter anymore – he plunged back in, tauntingly slow. 

Jimin’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his hard dick pressing firmly against his pants, yearning for release. To him this is how true Paradise felt like, the feeling of your silk walls wrapped around his digit.   

He was about to lose it. 

He bottomed his finger out inside you, knuckle deep, until his small 13 tattoo on his wrist met with your lower abdomen. 

But he craved more. Fuck, how much he wanted to slam you against the pew and spread your thighs wide open, stretching your pretty little pussy right out with his dick. And who could blame him with the way your cunt gripped on his one single digit like that, dripping wet and sinfully warm. 

But he couldn’t— not now. And it made him crazy. 

You sank into the pew, your body trembling as he started to move his finger, his other hand still covering your mouth to keep you quiet. Every part of you was on fire, your mind and body in a constant battle between desire and shame. You were supposed to stop him, to push him away, but all you could manage was tremble and it made your eyes water. 

It was a mixture of remorse and the burning desire pounding between your thighs; something you had never experienced before and something you knew you shouldn’t have felt at all in this holy place. And more likely you should’ve never clenched harder around Jimin’s finger when you heard the small shudder in each breath he took. 

"Ahh baby—" The faint, breathy little whimper shattered his voice. "fuck.. you’re so perfect… so f-fucking perfect." 

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath shallow and ragged, mirroring the rhythm of his finger. With his warm breath tickling your ear, his whispered words were barely audible, but they still managed to send shivers down your spine.  

"Ooh, h-how I wish to see this perfect fucking pussy."   

Jimin couldn’t take his eyes off of you as he watched your face intently, committing every single feature and expression to his memory. The way your brows were furrowed in pleasure, the way you fought to keep your eyes open due to the sensitivity. 

He couldn’t help but admire the way your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, the way you tried to stifle your moans under his hand, and the way your juices flowed from your aching cunt.  

You were a captivating sight, sinful and alluring, flesh heated and glistening with arousal, and he knew you couldn’t deny it even though you tried. Your trembling body and the slickness on his fingers were evidence of the truth.  

He slowly added a second finger, stretching you open further and moving faster, his fingers stroking your sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through you. With every stroke, you felt your body weakening, and your thoughts began to succumb to the corrupting pleasure.  

Despite your protests, your body responded eagerly, arching towards him in a desperate plea for more;  seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving you.  

You never felt so conflicted in your entire life, your mind was a battlefield; torn between your beliefs and the undeniable pleasure that was now coursing through your veins. Every creak of the old wooden pews felt like a judgment, a cruel reminder that you were committing a sin that would send you to the depths of damnation.  

But when Jimin serendipitously grazed your swollen clit with his thumb, your mind went blank. You’d lost it.  

Your hips involuntarily jerked against his hand, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your cries of ecstasy at bay, but it was a dead effort as you squirmed and moaned, muffled by his hand covering your mouth.  

"Fuck— Don’t moan like that, you’re getting too loud, keep quiet."  

But you couldn’t. It was as if your head was spinning, unable to focus on anything except the pleasure. The way he slid his fingers in and out of you, his thumb perfectly stimulating your clit, it was too much.  

Despite your efforts, you couldn’t contain the small moans that escaped your lips. The church was now just a blur in the background, the stained glass windows casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the floor.  

"Shit, baby, keep fucking quiet or do you want me to slip those fucking panties off and stuff them in your mouth, hm?" Jimin’s whispered words sent shivers down your spine, making you clasp around his fingers right back in. 

"Y-yeah, you want that baby? My nasty girl, s-so good... so fucking perfect." He moved his fingers faster, his thumb circling deliciously on your clit, building up the pace for your climax, your body crying out for release. And oh, how he reveled in it, savoring every moment, every sensation as his little flower finally opened its petals to him. 

"You’re so close, baby, f-fuck— just let go, let me take you there."  

As Jimin’s fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink, you couldn’t help but give in, feeling all the guilt and shame wash away in the face of the intense pleasure you were feeling.  

„Ooh, fuck— Y-yeah, baby, go on. Come all over my fucking fingers.” 

Just as you were about to reach the peak, a sudden thud broke through the lustful haze. Your tear-filled eyes fluttered open and you glanced up to the top of the church’s gallery, where you saw the organ player, Mr. Min sprawled on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, amidst a sea of fallen notes.  

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as your eyes met his, and you saw the shock and disbelief on his once serene face.  

Your heart plummeted like a falling star, sinking into the depths of your stomach as you realized what you must look like to Mr. Min. Your cheeks burned with the heat of a thousand suns as you met his gaze, his face a canvas of flushed embarrassment, crushing you with shame and guilt. 

For in the eyes of Mr. Min, you were no other, but a sinner caught in the act of sin in the house of the divine. And as the notes of the holy music lay scattered at his feet, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were a reflection of your shattered innocence.  

Mr. Min quickly ascended the stairs to the organ, his emotions were in disarray, a tumultuous blend of arousal and embarrassment. With each step, he tried to push away the image of what he had just seen, but it lingered like a haunting melody in his mind.  

His cheeks burned with shame, but he couldn’t help stealing a glance at you before he reached the top of the stairs, his feline eyes burning you whole.  

Exposed and vulnerable, you were unable to look at the organ player in the eyes anymore. You closed your eyes tight in an attempt to block out the intensity of his gaze. But even with your eyes shut, you could feel his feline eyes looking down at you.  

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the image, Jimin’s skillful fingers never faltered to move inside you, your body feeling like it was exploding. A soft whimper escaped your lips, which got silenced by his firm grasp.  

With each second you felt yourself surrendering to the overwhelming ecstasy.  

As you teetered on the edge, ready to fall into the abyss of pleasure, you were suddenly jolted back to reality, finding yourself next to Jimin who was kneeling humbly on the wooden pew of the church, praying.   

With eyes wide open, heated cheeks and heavy breathing you gazed at your own clasped hands on the pew.  

Was this all in your head? How could you have let your mind wander to sinful desires in the sacred walls of the church?   

Jimin’s innocent devotion to his God only amplified your own guilt, making you feel like a fallen angel in the presence of his pure soul.  

Jimin couldn’t help but smirk, he bit the inside of his cheek, but it didn’t help hiding it. He moved his clasped hands toward his mouth to hide the devilish smirk that appeared on his lips. 

For he knew the power he held over you, the power to seduce and corrupt your very being. And with each passing day he was one step closer to claiming your body and soul for his own. 

And as you sat there, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, Jimin continued to pray, his facade of innocence masking the devilish intentions that lurked within. 

#bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin scenarios #jimin smut #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #bts x reader #park jimin fanfic #btsfests #park jimin smut

[piedinthepiper]

Prima Ballerina ˖ ⊹

Yandere!Jimin x ballerina!reader

Summary: What’s the difference between a great ballerina and the greatest ballerina? The answer is Park Jimin. And he had his eyes on you in more than a professional way.

Warnings: heavy dubcon, Jimin is super cocky and thinks he knows everything (misogyny?), cursing, corruption, Jimin is also a creep, age gap (reader is of legal age), stalking (non descriptive), smut

Wc: 4.3k

A/n: Written for this request. I love black swan and ballet so I had to do this! Hope you enjoy! Don’t be a silent reader! Like, repost and comment!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I know nothing about ballet except for whatever ballet they show in the Barbie movies. Everything is off Google, so some technical terms and such might be incorrect.

You did a final jump before the dramatic music came to an end. His eyes were piercing through you. Watching your every movement, your every step, your every breath. But he watched you all, you thought to yourself. Everybody had to be perfect for the premiere of Swan lake. The hardest and most demanding ballet you had ever danced in your career. The choreography was almost impossible. So Mr. Park had yet again kept you there for hours overtime, and all of you were exhausted.

“Agh, my feet hurt. I hope this was the last round.”

Your friend, Maria, whispered to you. You smiled at her and was about to answer, when a loud clap was heard throughout the room. It silenced everyone.

“Ms. Sanderson, do you have something to tell the company?”

Mr. Park locked eyes with her. Staring her down from across the room like a predator. She looked a bit tongue tied for a second.

“Ehm- no. No, Mr. Park.”

He nodded at her answer.

“I do think I heard complaining back there, are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

She looked down to the floor and carefully shook her head.

“I don’t believe you, you’re pathetic. Out of my studio!”

He yelled at her and pointed a sharp finger towards the exit. Her eyes continued to stay on the floor. Accepting her fate.

“I said it!”

You yelled back and raised your hand. His eyes turned back to you.

“Bold of you, Ms. y/l/n. Thanks to you all the swans have to practice for another hour. The rest are dismissed.”

The room was filled with sighs and groans.

“Ok, let’s make that two.”

No one uttered a single word, afraid that the time would get longer.

“That’s what I thought. You, come with me.”

He briefly pointed at you, before he started to walk out of the practice room.

“The rest of you can take a 10 minute break.”

Maria looked at you with a apologetic look.

“Thank you, y/n.”

She said and grabbed your hand. You gave her a small smile. Of course you would stand up for her. She was your best friend in the company.

“Yeah, thanks a lot y/n.”

One of the other girls said sarcastically. You didn’t pay it any mind, you would also be furious if someone made you stay two hours overtime when you already were on overtime. You grabbed your leg warmers.

“No worries, you know I got you.”

You comforted Maria, before you started walking towards the exit. You knew Mr. Park went to his office. It wasn’t your first time being scolded.

“Sit down.”

He said once you entered. He was already sitting behind his desk. You sat down opposite of him, leaning down to slide into your leg warmers.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park.”

You started off with. Trying to sound as apologetic as possible. He sighed.

“Do you think I do this for fun, y/n?”

You got up from your crouched position and looked him in the eyes.

“No I don’t.”

He was one of the best ballet teachers and directors in the whole world. It was obviously an honour just to be able to dance for him. But you knew he had a soft spot for you for some reason. That’s why you were comfortable taking Maria’s place.

“I would much rather be at home as well, relaxing and eating a good meal. But there would be no Swan lake, and there would be no good ballerinas without me.”

He pulled his hand through his black hair in stress. It was slicked back like usual, but throughout the day a few strands had loosened.

“If everyone stopped practicing at five o’clock like scheduled, the premiere would be nothing but chaos. Do you understand that, y/n?”

You nodded. He looked you up and down for a second. Taking in your form. He slowly got up and walked towards you. He grabbed your chin harshly, making you look back up at him.

“I’ve been observing you for the last days, you truly are far too beautiful and talented to be just a swan.”

You raised your eyebrows at his sudden compliment.

“You’re prima ballerina material, for sure.”

His hand slid to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.

“Too bad I have to fire you.”

“What?!”

Your eyebrows crossed as you shook your head out of his grip. His hand went into his pocket, making him look surprisingly relaxed.

“The two of us, let alone the entire company, knows that this isn’t your first time being sent to my office.”

You looked at him in shock. You couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“If I don’t give you the consequences, it’s going to look suspicious.”

You shook your head. He was going to fire you just because something as simple as complaining?

“You can’t do that.”

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

He smirked again, before walking to stand right in front of you. You looked up and down his long body. Before looking back at him with your most innocent, but still sultry eyes.

“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Park. You wouldn’t do that to me would you?”

He cocked his head at your plea. Scanning you up and down yet again. He had a puzzled look on his face.

“Don’t test me.”

You grabbed his hand as you fell down to your knees. You knew he liked it when you begged. And since this was a life or death situation for your career, you didn’t mind being a little extra.

“I’ll do anything. Please just let me continue to dance for you. I’m nothing without you. I can’t- you can’t-”

You knew what buttons to push. His ego was too big to not take the bait.

“You’re right. It would be a shame to waste your potential.”

He lifted your head up again by your chin. A sudden sexual tension hit you, once you saw the outline of his bulge. You knew your actions had an effect on him, but not to that extent.

“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty face.”

You tried your best to look him in the eyes. It was hard to not shy away at a situation like that, even for you.

“Please, Mr. Park.”

He inhaled sharply, before he broke out in a smile.

“I forgive you, y/n. I can’t live with myself if I don’t give you another chance.”

You smiled up at him as well, preceding to get back up on your feet. But his arm found your shoulder and stopped you in your ascend.

“Wait.”

He warned you, and you quickly sat back down on your knees.

“I like seeing you like this, it’s not often you look so- submissive.”

Chills ran down your spine at his words. You definitely did not take that as a compliment. You were quite fiery, yes. And in any normal situation you would never let a man speak to you like he did. But the fear of losing your job, combined with the reverence you felt towards him, made you defy yourself.

“After this season I want you to take private lessons with me. Every Tuesday and Thursday.”

You nodded carefully, not looking up at him.

“Don’t look so down, darling. I’ll make you my next prima ballerina.”

“He said what?”

Maria half whispered in shock.

“Ms. Sanderson.”

Mrs. Petrova, your instructor, who was so old she probably was alive when swan lake was composed, hushed her. Maria looked at her before looking down at her moving feet. The company was warming up, standing in clean lines against the railing, moving to the rhythm of the slow classical music.

“Not only did he not fire you.”

She whispered once Mrs. Petrova was at the other end of the room.

“But he also said he would make you a prima ballerina?”

You nodded.

“Switch to third position!”

The two of you switched.

“Wow, you are so lucky. Mr. Park hasn’t had a prima ballerina in years.”

You smiled at her, and lifted you head higher when Mrs. Petrova walked by. You remained silent until you knew she was far enough away.

“I’m happy of course, it’s just- I don’t know. There’s something weird about him.”

“Yeah he’s like really cocky.”

She answered and held back a laugh.

“That too, but he’s just eerie. Like I don’t know if I want to spend so much time with him alone.”

“Ms. y/l/n! Would you like to share something with the company? Or do I have to send the two of you to Mr. Parks office?”

Mrs. Petrova suddenly bursted out. You locked eyes with Maria. Not knowing what to answer the old hag.

“We were just talking about-“

“Boys, just boys.”

You interrupted Maria. Not wanting her to say anything about you or Mr. Park. Mrs. Petrova gave the two of you a strict look, before the music started playing again.

“Please focus on your movements, not the opposite gender.”

She scolded before walking away from the two of you.

“And fourth position!”

“He just kept looking at me weirdly, and telling me that I’m beautiful and shit.”

You said as the two of you were walking down towards the cafeteria for lunch.

“Oh my god! He probably has a crush on you or something!”

Maria said a little bit too loud. You poked her in her side with your elbow.

“Please, keep it down.”

She started laughing, and you quickly followed. As you turned a corner you crashed into something. Or rather someone. A hand snuck around you waist, keeping you from falling. You looked up, finding the familiar brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I didn’t see where I was going.”

He looked at you for a second, before smiling. He didn’t let go of your waist, and when you became aware of that you awkwardly stepped away from him.

“No harm done.”

He simply said and walked away. You looked over at Maria.

“I get it.”

She simply said as you started walking again.

“Right?”

You asked, looking back at her as she tried to keep up with you.

“What ever look he just gave you was not the look you give to someone you have a crush on.”

The season had ended, for a minute you felt relief. Knowing you had time off now to just relax before the next season. But as you read the message on your phone, you felt that relief fade away.

“Studio 5, next Thursday at 07.00 am. Don’t be late.”

You sighed, was this really what you wanted? Of course it was a dream come true to potential become Mr. Parks new prima ballerina. But you couldn’t help but feel weird about that time in his office. It seemed like he had other intentions in mind. Mr. Park was an attractive man yes, but he was way older than you and you didn’t want his attention in that way. He was your teacher, your mentor. Not a potential hook up. You didn’t see him in that way, and you hoped against all odds that he didn’t see you like that either.

What you didn’t know was that in that moment, outside on the dark street. He was there. Looking at you through your window. Watching your puzzled look at his text. He didn’t know his intentions fully yet either. But he did know they were not good.

“Higher.”

He simply said as he watch you dance to the music. It was your fifth lesson together, and everything was going well. You hadn’t seen the side of him that you saw when he proposed this idea. And you were enjoying yourself, getting these private lessons had really helped you improve. In the next second arabesque, you lifted your leg even higher. Showing him that you listened. But he still shut the music off. You stepped down from your tips, looking at him as he walked up to you.

“Turn around.”

He said once he reached you. And you did as instructed. You looked at him through the big mirrors.

“Do your second arabesque.”

You stood back up on your toes, and gracefully bent into a second arabesque.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

He said, and you did. You instinctively pushed your leg even further up, once you saw your own reflection.

“Now back to full position.”

You moved your face upwards again, looking away from the mirror. You felt his hands touch your waist. He straightened your back, before one of his hands went to your lifted leg.

“Look back at yourself.”

He almost whispered in your ear, now with one hand on your waist, and the other holding your leg higher than what you were comfortable with. You smiled once you saw yourself. Your arabesque looked different, more sophisticated.

“When you do your second arabesque, or any arabesque for that matter. Remember this. Straight back and high leg.”

He said in a low comforting tone once he saw your smile. You nodded, and stepped down from your tippy toes. He let go of your leg, but moved that hand to the other side of your waist.

“Think of me holding your waist, it’ll help you stabilise.”

He whispered now, you felt his warm breath on the back of your neck. You turned to look at him.

“Thank you.”

You muttered. His eyes immediately fell to your lips, and in a split second his lips were on yours. You were caught off guard, and didn’t respond at first. But once it dawned on you what was happening you quickly moved your face away from his. You felt his hands on your waist tighten.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

You looked up at the mirror, wanting to see his reaction. He was looking you dead in the eye, with anger written all over his face. He leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder, still maintaining eye contact. Before he deeply whispered.

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

His hand moved up to your face as he turned to kiss you yet again. You pushed him away, and tried to make a run for it. But he snaked his arm around your chest.

“Let me go!”

You struggled against him, now scared of what would happen if you didn’t get away. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you elbowed him as hard as you could in his side. His hand loosened and you ran. But not quick enough. He grabbed you by your arm and threw you into the big mirror. It was pure luck that it didn’t shatter. His body locked you in.

“Hush, I won’t hurt you.”

He said, and for a second you stopped fighting. You were out of breath, but still managed to give him a death glare.

“Let me go!”

You tried once again. He shook his head.

“Do you think I just give away free lessons? Don’t you think you need to repay me?”

You felt something hard against your abdomen. You wanted to cry, you didn’t know what to do. His face shifted once he saw your eyes watering.

“No, no. I’m not a rapist, y/n! God no. But if you want to be my prima ballerina. You have to get your priorities straight.”

You clung onto the little bit of relief you felt from his words.

“I’ve tried my best to stay away, y/n. I really have. But there’s just something about you.”

You felt his hips grind against yours.

“You make me fucking crazy. I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”

He let out a small moan at the friction. A tear fell down your face.

“Please, Mr. Park. Let me go.”

You sobbed. He hushed you again.

“I’ll let you go. Just listen to me.”

You took a deep breath, collecting yourself as much as you could.

“By next Thursday I want an answer. Either you show up or you don’t. Don’t be late.”

He pushed himself off the wall and gave you one last look before slowly walking out the studio. Leaving you alone in the big dance room. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

“I don’t know what to do, Maria. This is like a fucking nightmare!”

You said sobbing onto Marias lap as she comforted you. You called her the minute you got home, knowing that she already knew most of the backstory. She immediately came over to your place, wanting to be there for you in a situation like this. You were forever great full for having a friend like her.

“You have to report this. Surely the police could do something about him.”

She said in a calm voice, stroking your hair lightly. You sat up in your bed, wiping your tears away from your swollen face.

“Would they though?”

You asked defeated. Mr. Park was a rich and famous man. You wanted to believe Marias theory, but the hard sad truth was that you didn’t stand a chance against him. Especially with no proof.

“Either I don’t show up and give up my career or-“

You paused, collecting your thoughts.

“Or you give that bastard what he wants.”

Maria finished for you. Knowing exactly what you were thinking.

“Look, being Jimin Parks prima ballerina is huge. It really is, but- I don’t know, is it really worth it? Is it really worth loosing your dignity for a life of fame?”

She asked you with a worried face. You blinked away your tears, not wanting to cry anymore.

“What else would I do? I’ve been dancing my entire life, everything I’ve ever done has lead up to this moment. I can’t-“

You shook your head, not letting the emotions take control over you again.

“I have to show up, I have to talk some sense into him. I can’t give up now. I just can’t.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap as you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You could go to college, get a degree, get a nine to five. Anything but this, please I can’t watch you go through with this. It’s not safe to see him again.”

You looked up at her again.

“And be a complete failure? Not only to my parents, to you, to the company, but also to myself. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of, Maria.”

“You won’t be a failure! You’re an amazing dancer, you have real talent. But it’s not worth it.”

You shook your head. You had already made up your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

You mumbled. Maria sighed and got up from the bed.

“You do you, girl. But you better not call me crying next Thursday. I won’t feel bad for you.”

She said before walking out your room. You were alone with this now. But like you told her, you couldn’t give up on your dream. No matter the cost.

Thursday. You were sweating. A lump had formed itself inside your stomach, and it was impossible to to ignore it. You took what felt like your last breath before you opened the door to the studio. He stood in the other end, hands crossed over his chest, with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“You’re late.”

His voice rang through the big room, leaving an echo. You stepped into the room, the door shutting behind you. Another echo filling the otherwise dead silent room. You didn’t walk towards him, you stayed by the door. The silence making the lump in your stomach grow even larger.

“What are you doing?”

He asked, still with a slight smirk.

“Come here, we have dancing to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Your entire body was screaming for you to run out the door and never look back. But your brain didn’t let you move.

“Come over here, y/n. Right now!”

He said in a strict tone, once you didn’t listen. Your own feet moved against your own will, as you slowly started moving forward. You put your bag down on your way.

“Good girl.”

He said, barely audible. But you heard it. All your senses were sharpened. He watched you like a predator, as you can closer and closer. You stopped at a reasonable distance. Close enough to have a conversation with him, but still just out of reach.

“Why so gloomy? You’ve made the biggest decision in your life, baby.”

He stepped closer to you. Every single muscle in your body tensed as his hand met your face in a loving embrace.

“I’m going to make you a star.”

He whispered. You shook your head.

“I don’t want to have sex with you, Mr. Park.”

His smile faded at your words. You straightened your back, trying your best to seem confident and not afraid of the man standing in front of you.

“This is all I’ve ever dreamt of. It’s all I’ve ever worked for. But I refuse to think that this is the only way I can get what I want.”

You said as you tried to conceal the shaky breath escaping your mouth.

“Please, I don’t want to sleep my way to fame. I want to earn it. So tell me, do you see a true and genuine prima ballerina in me. Or am I just a piece of meat?”

He looked at you directly in your eyes. You didn’t break eye contact. You were not giving up, not yet. He broke out in laughter after a few seconds of staring into your soul.

“Oh, y/n. Please.”

He continued laughing, as if this whole thing was a joke. You stayed as serious as ever.

“This is what I like about you. You’re so stubborn, so strong. You don’t see that often around here.”

He turned serious in a split second.

“Why would I be lying to you? Huh? I can sleep with whoever I want. If I wanted just a one night stand I’d pick one of the other girls. Someone easier to manipulate.”

His hand slid around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“I’m a man of my word, y/n. I see potential in you, I wouldn’t just say that to anyone.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips. You instinctively turned your head away, opting to looking at the two of you in the mirror. He looked back at you in the reflection.

“I see my next prima ballerina.”

He said and pointed at the mirror.

“You’re not just beautiful and talented, you have a strong mind. You’re perfect.”

You sighed, looking back at him.

“Why would you waste it all?”

He asked and softly caressed your chin. Your gaze flicked down, wanting to look anywhere but him. He was right, why would you waste the opportunity to have everything you’ve ever wanted?

“It’s honestly a package deal. You get fame and fortune, and good sex. I don’t see what the problem is honestly.”

You looked back up at him again. Trying to conceal the ick you just got.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

His face turned into a devilish grin.

“Join me in my office.”

He hastily got rid of your bollero, throwing it onto the floor. The second you stepped into his office his lips were on yours. Your fate was sealed, there was no return now. He grabbed at your hips harshly, digging his fingers into you with desperation and lust. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked over to his desk, leaving your lips for a moment to push whatever was on it onto the floor. It all hit the floor and made a loud crashing noise. He placed you onto the desk, continuing his heated attack of your lips.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, baby.”

He said in between kisses. Working on your wrap around skirt and tights. You lifted yourself off the desk so he could slide your garments off. Leaving you in your underwear and tank top.

“You have no idea how crazy you’ve made me. How many sins I’ve done in your favour.”

His lips crashed back onto yours. You started thinking of your career as you heard him removing his belt. Preparing yourself for what was to come. He pushed your upper body down onto the desk, making your head dip over the edge of the desk. You looked at his office upside down, staring at the expensive painting hanging on the wall. You felt him sliding your underwear to the side.

“What a pretty pussy you have, baby.”

He said before sliding himself into you, making you moan as you felt yourself being filled up.

“Better than I ever imagined.”

He groaned as he started to slowly move. You continued to look at the painting of the ballerina with a bouquet in her hands bowing down in a gracious pose. Your hands found his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. Your breath got heavy as you felt his speed increase.

But still you focused on the ballerina. You imagined it was you. Maybe that would be you after this. Bowing deeply to the applause of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people in the audience. They all applauding you. You moaned loudly once he hit a good spot.

“You like that? You want it, huh?”

“Yes.”

You said in a shaky voice. You wanted this, you wanted this more than anything. This was all worth it in the end. You would be a star, a prima ballerina. Someone little girls looked up to, and adults wanted to be. You would be like that ballerina in the painting. Gracious and beautiful in every way. Everything you ever aspired to be. Everything you were meant to be.

“God, I’m gonna-“

You belonged here. On that desk. In that studio. Alone on a stage, bowing to the audience after the greatest performance of their lives. You were Mr. Park’s new prima ballerina.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

#bts yandere #yandere bts #jimin x y/n #jimin x you #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #bts jimin #park jimin #jimin #yandere jimin #yandere!bts #yandere park jimin #yandere!jimin #jimin smut #jiminie #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #yandere jimin x reader #jimin dark icons #dark jimin #yandere x reader #jimin x female reader #jimin x fem!reader #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #park jimin x y/n

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (1)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, Age Gap!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 17.4k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), talks of a bad car accident, talks of drunk driving (please drinking responsibly), more than likely wrong swimming terms and poor understanding of how the Olympics actually works (I did so much research, pls be nice to me lol), strong language, lots of mental health discussions, reader has mommy and daddy issues, Older reader, Jimin is a complete sweetie, the tamest chapter of them all A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back. I first wrote Waterlog back in 2021, and while I enjoy the premise, I hate the finished product. I wanted to go back and edit/fix what I originally had, but when I tried it became so different, I was better off rewriting the entire thing. I hope you guys like this mini-series. If you would like to read the original go to my blog archive. Thank you for reading!

masterlist || next || playlist

Staring at the pool, I managed to calm myself with relative ease. Jin had been right, physical therapy had made things easier. The water glistened prettily in the lights, and I waited with bated breath for my trainer to come in. 

Emery was a sweet guy, pretty with a lip ring and tattoos, but with a surprising amount of shyness it was laughable. His softness was offset by his powerful muscles, and I enjoyed his never-ending sense of humor. Unlike Dr.Maddox, Emery treated me like I was a normal person. Not an Olympian who almost lost her leg in an accident, or the woman whose fiancé died. I was just Y/N, and it was a relief to be around him.

Running my fingers along the scars on my leg, I mindlessly drew patterns around them in the silence. It was not normal for Emery to take this long, but his assistant had said he was running behind due to another patient, so I was unbothered. I had planned my entire day around this, so I was in no rush.

Finally, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Emery. Breathing heavier than usual, he rolled his eyes at me in frustration before saying his pleasantries. Whoever it had been had gotten him worked up.

“Rough morning?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

“I shouldn’t say this, but I hope that woman never comes back here.”

I laughed, “We all have that someone. Don’t feel too bad.”

Shaking his head, I could tell it took restraint on his part not to rant and rave about the woman who had left. Emery and I were more friendly than most. I had been seeing him for over two years now, but we still kept a semblance of a professional relationship. Especially Emery.

“How’s the kids?” He asked, making small talk as we started getting ready for a swim.

I was the coach of a high school swim team in town, something I talked about quite a bit, and Emery always liked hearing about. He was a great water polo player but chose to go into physical therapy while he was in college. After seeing one of his friends get injured and how much physical therapy had helped him, Emery decided to change his major. Four years later, he says he could never see himself doing anything else.

“They’re doing well,” I said honestly. “We got a couple of freshmen on the team, but they’re doing a lot better than I thought they would.”

Emery hummed, offering me assistance getting into the pool. While walking had been mostly figured out, the obvious limp aside, I still had some trouble with getting in-and-out of things. Even my bathtub had to be switched out since I was unable to step over it. I still used the medical chair while in there, too.

The water was cool against my skin, and I felt instantly relieved. The dull aches and pains left as soon as I got into the water. Swimming to my usual spot, I waited patiently for Emery to join me.

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

Going to the edge of the pool, Emery grabbed a set of barbells and handed them to me. Taking them, the two of us went over the workout plan for the day. Pulling himself up on the pool’s edge, Emery picked up his stopwatch and told me to begin.

Getting on the interstate, I sang along to the radio as I made my way to Hoseok’s. The two of us had been friends since high school, our mutual love for swimming making it impossible to keep apart, and only growing with time. He was one of my biggest support systems after the accident. Both of us had retired years ago now, but I remembered our days as Olympians fondly. Those were the best years of my life.

A small group of our friends were getting together at his house to watch the summer Olympics this afternoon. The women’s swimming finals were happening today, and I knew two of the girls competing. Turning on my blinker, I quickly got off the interstate.

Pressing around my car’s radio screen, I went to my contacts and pressed Andy’s number. She was off today and in charge of getting everything together. Hoseok had tried to do it himself, but always seemed to forget who should do what and ended up buying everything himself. She picked up after the fourth ring.

“What’s up, sugar?” Andy greeted, her voice soft and light. Her Memphis accent was thick and brought a smile to my face. Everyone had made jokes about her being southern when we first met. “Don’t tell me you’re missing Nationals.”

I shook my head even though she could not see me.

“I’m on my way,” I replied. “What should I pick up? I completely forgot.”

Andy sighed, “You’re just as bad as Jin.”

Seokjin was Andy’s husband. The two of them had been together whenever they moved to Colorado, married before I ever met them, and became quick friends with Hoseok when they moved to the Springs. That was how I had met them. Whenever their daughter Dani was born, Andy had asked me to be her Godmother and I sobbed in her lap. They were my closest friends next to Hoseok. Jin was indeed very forgetful, though, and the jibe made me chuckle.

“Cut me some slack,” I argued. “I’ve been working out for two hours straight.”

I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just get some pizza or something. We’re picking up some wings and Hobi’s in charge of the drinks. Minho and Tilly are bringing… something. I don’t even know anymore.”

Fully laughing now, I saw a Little Ceasars up ahead and got into the correct lane. Minho and Matilda were loose cannons when it came to our parties. While sweet, and fiercely loyal, I found myself wondering why I hung out with them at times. We were night and day personality wise, but I loved them dearly. Minho would probably bring some Korean side dishes from home, and Matilda would pick up a few packs of ramen from the store. Andy was stressing over nothing again. I hoped she was getting proper rest on her days off.

“I’m at Little Caesars,” I told her, parking my car. “I’m going to get the basics. How many things of Crazy Bread should I get?”

She thought for a second before replying.

“Five?” She was definitely unsure about her answer.

It was hard to gauge just how hungry everyone would be, and Jin was a bottomless pit.

“Sounds good,” I said instead, already thinking about getting more.

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

“See you, Andy,” I unplugged my phone from the charger.

Pressing it to my ear, I pressed my start button and turned it off. I climbed out of my car and started walking to the store.

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

“Love you, too,” I replied. Opening the door, a worker greeted me with a smile. “I’m about to order.”

Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I gave the worker an awkward smile before telling him my order. I ended up getting seven bags instead of five. Just in case. Dani really liked the stuff and Jin could smash an entire bag by himself. While I waited for the cheese pizza to come out of the oven, my phone started ringing.

“Hello?” I answered, unable to check the caller ID while the cashier shoved the crazy bread into my arms.

“I heard from a little bird that you’re thinking about competing again.”

I grinned and thanked the cashier as she handed me my other pizza. 

“Hello to you, too, Frank,” I replied. “And your little birdie wouldn’t happen to be Hoseok, would it?”

Frank and Sarah Boone had become a part of my life after the accident. They ran a local support group to help those affected by drunk drivers to get connected with resources and therapy. The two had lost their son when he decided to drive home drunk from a party and used the group as their own coping mechanism. They were wonderful people and owned their own joint coffee shop and bookstore in Denver.��

“Won’t say names,” He chuckled, “But it might have come from a certain part-timer. So, is it true?”

I placed the boxes in the passenger seat and rounded my car. This was not a conversation I was expecting to happen today. I had brought up the idea to Hoseok since the Olympics were coming up next year, but I was not committed to it. I was enjoying my new job coaching and did not think I was in any condition for competition. When he brought up the Paralympics I laughed. Those competitors were in better shape than I was, and I doubted I would qualify. I was disabled but my disability did not (as far as I knew) carry over into the pool.

“I was just talking shit, Frank,” Backing out of the parking space, I put in Hoseok’s address and started to drive. Switching over to my car’s phone, I put my phone down and looked at the road. “You know I’m happy with my life right now.”

He made a grunting noise that told me he did not really believe me. No one did. All of them were sure I was miserable about my career ending far before its time, and while that may be true, I felt more loss about the life I was supposed to have than winning medals. I missed Namjoon more than any medal. Frank and Sarah understood that.

“I know that,” He cleared his throat, and I could hear the congestion. Frank had come down with a nasty case of walking pneumonia two weeks ago and was still recovering. “Just got a little excited is all. It would be nice to see you putting yourself back out there.”

It would be nice to see myself back in the pool, I could admit that. I had dreams of it at times. Being a competitor was a part of who I was. From the first time my dad took me to my swim classes when I was six all the way until I claimed my eighth Olympic medal, everyone had said there was nothing I hated more than losing. I was fiery, free-spirited, and kept my eyes on the prize. It was the thing Namjoon loved about me the most. That made me frown.

“I left a champ,” I forced a laugh. “Need to save some gold for the rest of them.”

Hiding behind humor was a pastime. 

Frank laughed, oblivious to the hollowness in my tone. “Heard they have a new guy taking your place.”

That made me snort, “He’s not taking my spot. Totally different competitions, my friend.”

“Winning gold like you, that’s for damn sure.”

It must be Jimin Park. The kid turned up on the scene a year after my accident. He was a very, very talented swimmer. Fast as a bullet with the best butterflies I had ever seen, Park was a force to be reckoned with in the men’s league. It was a joy to watch him swim and this year would be his first Olympics. Hoseok and I were very excited to watch him.

“If you’re talking about Park,” I chuckled. “He’s far from new. He’s been competing for a few years now. First Olympics, though.”

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

Truthfully, I did not know how old he was. I remember the buzz around how young he was when he first broke out on the scene. He was eighteen when he took home gold all season before a family emergency took him out of the Olympics last minute. No one knew what really happened, but his team had said his brother was in an accident, tragically losing his life, and Jimin was prioritizing his family. He’s competed every year since and with the Olympics next year, I was certain Park would be there. He deserved it.

I was parked in front of the house now and from the cars outside, I was the last person to arrive. Frank and I talked for a few moments. It was cute how much he had learned about swimming so we could be buddies. Sarah was the only person who recognized my face when I first started going to the meetings and her husband was determined to get me to open after weeks of sitting in bitter silence in the back. 

We hung up after I promised I would make it to the meeting next Thursday. Frank was not happy about me skipping the past two weeks, but understood I was taking some time to myself. My boys were going to compete this year, I had fought tooth and nail for that funding, and the extra hours at school were exhausting. Jeremy and Evan showed promise, but they knew how to drive me up the wall with all of their simple mistakes.

As I suspected, the party was in full swing. Matilda and Minho were laughing loudly on the sofa, Hoseok sporting a beer in the recliner next to them, and Dani practicing her gymnastics in the middle of it all. I could hear the commentators talking animatedly about the girls, who they believed would come out on top and highlights from the night before, but I never really paid them any mind.

“Pizza’s here!” Minho boomed, practically running to greet me.

I laughed, handing over the boxes, “Need help carrying the rest in.”

Matilda offered, happily taking my car keys and leaving the house. Minho had disappeared into the kitchen. Dani spared me enough attention for a smile and wave before launching into excited pleas for me to watch her new moves. 

“Super cool, babe,” I smiled sweetly after her handstand. Dani was not particularly good at gymnastics. She started later than the other girls, rarely did anything she was actively afraid of, and hated her coach. Andy was already looking for a better gym, but I just thought she should start pointing her in another direction. Dani loved dancing and she would be a wonderful ballerina or figure skater if given the proper training. The Kim’s, however, seemed fine watching her deal with gymnastics and cheerleading. “You’re getting better.”

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

Flipping the right way around, her hair coming out of its messily tied bun and falling down past her shoulders. Brown, loose waves made her look so much younger than her eight years, her small stature only selling the illusion even more. Her skin was smooth, and she always looked as though she had been playing outside in the sun, a constant tinge of pink beneath her sandy skin. Her features favored her father, large eyes, long face, and plush, pillow-like lips, but after meeting Andy’s parents, I could see her grandmother hidden within the mischievous glint in her eyes and too small ears.

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked. 

She continued to babble away as I made myself more comfortable, kicking off my shoes and tossing my hat onto the small buffet table that sat above the shoe rack. Matilda came back inside, her arms filled with bags of bread, and I took two from the pile. With a thankful, thin-lipped grin, she also complimented Dani’s moves before disappearing around the corner in the direction of the kitchen.

“Dani,” Hoseok seemed to have finally grown tired of hearing the girl talk. I would imagine this was all he had been hearing since he arrived. “Do you want to color with me?”

The little girl clapped happily, her eyes bright and shining, before abandoning her mat to gather a few coloring books and her massive hoard of crayons. Hoseok looked at me then, a sly smile on his face before winking. I chuckled and shook my head. He always did that to make her shut up. 

I left the living room before Dani came back. I loved her dearly, but I could admit she talked too much. It was a good thing for a kid her age to be so social but that did not mean I wanted to hear her every waking thought. Andrea and Seokjin were the only parents in our little group, and I imagined it would stay that way for a while. Even if my dreams of children were still alive, I did not have anybody I wanted to take on that responsibility with.

Minho was eating the pizza, as expected, while Matilda had already claimed her own bag of Crazy Bread. Andy and Jin were snuggled up at their dining table, his arms securing her to his chest, and she curled into him. I loved watching them together. I had grown up in a house with two people who hated one another, barely kept up a facade of civility before my mother skipped down to be with her new boyfriend in Florida leaving my dad and I behind in Pennsylvania. We made it work but things were never the same after that. It made me happy to know little Dani would feel the love radiating in her home as she grew up. I had never seen two people so enamored with one another in my life- not even Namjoon and I.

“How was therapy?” Minho asked after we exchanged pleasantries. “Hoseok said you were talking about competing next season.”

I laughed in disbelief. That man did not know how to keep his mouth shut. I said the same thing I told Frank over the phone, and he scoffed. Minho never truly laughed, if I was honest. It was always a snicker, scoff, or chuckle. He was a man of little words and even fewer outbursts of joy, and I found his versions of those things just as reserved as the rest of him. He was the most expressive when he smiled, but those were just as rare as a genuine laugh. Dani managed to squeeze more out of him than anybody else. 

“Stop meddling!” Andy scolded the other man from her spot in Seokjin’s lap. 

“Never,” My friend replied, amusement clear in his voice.

“Never!” Dani echoed, voice louder than Hoseok’s. She was giggling happily alongside him, and I rolled my eyes. He was her favorite. “Never!” She repeated again, pleased when Hoseok laughed. “Never!”

“That’s enough,” Jin’s voice was even and smooth.

Dani did not shout again but we could all hear her and Hoseok attempting to cover up their laughter. Andy smiled fondly. Their little friendship had warmed her heart. After Dani, Andrea had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. It had come back six times before her doctor said she needed to get a hysterectomy. She grieved the children they would never have, the large family she dreamed of stolen from her, but once Dani was old enough to walk, she had been glued to Hoseok’s hip.

Hoseok for all he spoke about never wanting children, he adored Dani. His family was small, he and his sister the only children, but they were extremely close. She lived in New York City as a fashion designer and got married last year, and I always had the feeling Hoseok felt lonely without her. Dani was a welcome break from routine and made him feel special. It was sweet but I hoped my friend would find someone to share his life with someday. 

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

It was a great day for the U.S. Opal Simmons was one to look out for. She was the oldest woman on the team, a shocking 24, but she could out swim a vast majority of them. Her freestyles were amazing, earning her a gold with Japan just a few points behind. I was hopeful she would be able to come out on top in her distance swim. While not the fastest in the pool, the girl knew how to pace herself. The cameras cut to the shot of one of her coaches smiling triumphantly at the performance.

He was a good friend of mine, Oswald Bunch. He had been heavily involved with the Olympics for years now, promoted to one of the lead coaches back in 2020, but I remembered when he was still competing. A few years older than me, Ozzie was known for his backstrokes and long-distance swimming, and we bonded whenever we got the chance to meet in London back in 2012.

That was my first Olympics. I was a fresh-faced 20-year-old on a mission. My team at the time was stoked to have me around and I was excited to be there. I had built up a solid reputation over the course of two years, winning seven medals my first adult-competitive season, and the high was incredible. Back then, I was always the one to beat at the breaststroke and therefore, the medleys were in my favor as well. I walked away with 4 golds that year, and again in 2016. The accident happened a year later, but I left the competitive world with 8 gold Olympic medals and 19 world champion gold medals. Katie Ledecky held the record now, but for a time, I was the most decorated female swimmer in history. I was excited when I was finally passed up, happy for the younger woman.

Ozzie was the man, but sadly never got out of Michael Phelp’s shadow. It was not his fault. That man was insane in the water and would become the most decorated Olympian ever. Bunch was a great swimmer, but I did not know a single person who could compare to Phelps. Hoseok, maybe, but he only had 12 gold medals. Phelps had 23.

“Simmons looks great out there,” Hoseok praised, a large smile on his face.

“Her butterflies could use a little work,” I murmured back, already seeing how I could fix it with some extra exercises. “It’s slowing down her freestyle. What else is she scheduled for?”

“I think she’s doing the 200-meter freestyles and the medley relay,” He replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Bunch is banking on her pacing.”

“She won’t win those,” I was positive. “She’s just going to get tired. Breaststrokes are obviously not her thing.”

He laughed, “You’re the breaststroke queen, Y/N. No one's as good as yours.”

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

“Never said she wasn’t,” He sipped. “Her freestyles are killer. Girls could never beat you in breaststroke or a medley. You’re untouchable there.”

It made me smile despite myself. Hoseok was right, those were my competitions. Even if Katie had surpassed my record for most gold medals ever, I still had more Olympic medals than she did, and they were in completely different events. I could have kept my title had the accident never happened. I would have. Even if we were friendly, Ledecky would have been my competition, and I would have fought hard to keep the record.

“What’s Jimin doing this year?” Matilda asked as the women’s scores were posted. Opal would be a strong contender. “Anyone know?”

I nodded, “I haven’t watched every competition, but he’s sticking to what he does best. Didn’t he swim the 200 yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok replied. “He’s skipping out today and doing his individual tomorrow. Swimming back-to-back after that. Kid’s a fucking animal in the water.”

I couldn't agree more. As I stared at Opal’s smiling face, her pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes, I wished I had been able to watch Jimin instead. She was cold and impassive even with a large, perfectly white grin that took up most of her face. In fact, I found her quite boring outside of the water. No flair or features that set her apart. Just a tall, well-built blonde with a nice smile. Ozzie would have to work hard to make her memorable.

“Simmons did well,” I yawned. “It’s getting late, though, and I have work in the morning.”

The goodbyes were quick, and Dani made me promise to take her roller skating soon. There was a girl at school making fun of her and she wanted her “super cool” and “famous” aunt to tell them off. We all laughed, and I told her we could go this weekend after gymnastics practice. 

My drive home was uneventful. It was already dark out, something that bothered me more than I would ever admit out loud, and I never turned on the radio. I preferred to drive in absolute silence, eyes and ears glued to the road. I had only started talking on the phone recently.

I was much worse after the accident. I refused to get inside of a car for weeks and if I did, I was a mess. No one was allowed to be a distracted driver either. No radio, no phone, no conversations. Nothing. Jin had been the default chauffeur during that time and put up with my anxiety better than the others.

It was close to a year before I tried to sit in the front seat again. Another five before I got behind the wheel. For hours I would sit in the garage with my hands on the steering wheel staring off into the distance. I was still in a wheelchair for most of my daily activities and a very obvious limp made me too self-conscious to be seen. Isolating was easy. Keeping the others away was more difficult.

My drives started with me just backing out of the driveway. I went around the block a few weeks later, hands shaking and Andy trying her best to soothe me in the passenger seat. I did not drive past the Whole Foods two minutes away from my house until after the second year. Things were easier after I ditched the wheelchair and got more open to the idea of therapy.

Moving out of Denver was the best decision I ever made, the Springs were easier to drive in and the traffic was not as awful. Andrea and Jin bought in Black Forest once I was settled in Briargate, so loneliness was never an option.

Matilda almost moved in after the housewarming party Andy threw for me. She said it was far too big for one person and the neighborhood was to die for. I laughed her off at the time not really wanting to admit how nice it sounded.

Nestled in Fairfax, my house was a beautiful piece of architecture. The striking brick and wood front exterior provided a warm welcome, with teal trimmings bringing a fresh feeling to the otherwise plain color scheme. With five bedrooms and four bathrooms, I dreamed of the day I was able to fill them all. A dream that I hoped would come before I hit 35.

 Pulling up to the house, I waved to Chika next door. The old woman raised her hand, still nursing a large mug of what I assumed to be tea and smiled. They were lovely people and we often helped one another out whenever we could. Chika liked to bring over food if she cooked and I paid my landscapers to keep with their lawn.

“Late night?” Chika called out from her front porch. 

“Went to a friend’s house,” I replied.

“Good,” She meant it. “Glad to see you getting out of the house.”

I smiled but was not sure how well she could see my face in the dark.

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

I showered quickly and sipped on a cup of chamomile tea before heading off to bed. After taking my night medications, one to force myself to sleep while the other blocked the never-ending nightmares, I climbed into bed. I was able to play a single game of solitaire before they both kicked in. I fell asleep with the sound of gentle rain humming in the background.

“Let’s go, guys!” I yelled, blowing my whistle.

The twelve boys waited, their small talk coming to an abrupt end. We had just finished warming up and I allowed all of them a short water break. I was a huge advocate for rest periods. No one needed to pull a muscle or fatigue early due to over working. I had a 2800-yard routine prepared, 800 of those done during our warm-ups, and the rest divided between our main set and cooldowns.

Jordan, our captain, was smiling happily. He was such an excited kid, and his positivity was contagious. While some of the boys were disappointed when I first chose him to replace our old captain after his graduation, I was sure his spirit would do everyone some good. It did not take long for the others to come around and he was beloved.

“Alright, so we have a 1600 main set. In between each of our reps, we will be doing a switch out of easy breast and backstrokes. Clear?”

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

“Alright. That's what I like to hear,” Flipping through my clipboard was more for show than anything. I used to rely on it heavily when I first started teaching since brain damage messed with my short-term memory, but I had been doing this long enough to know what was happening. Now it was just a way for me to write notes about their performances. “We’re starting with a 4x100 with 15-second rest; the first 25 butterfly. 3x100 with 10-second rest; again, first 25 butterfly. Following?”

No questions were asked, and a few guys voiced they were good for me to keep going.

“Good. Then we have a 2x100 with 5-second rest. First 25?”

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

“Thank you, Abbot. Okay, and we’re finishing up with 8x50 freestyle. Fast and easy.”

All twelve of them began to prepare to take their mark. One by one they stood on their blocks and waited for me to make the call. I admired them all for a moment. You could see the difference in each one of them. Those who were confident stood tall, their shoulders squared, and head held high. Newcomers were still figuring out their place on the team but were eager to prove themselves. Two of them would be leaving us this year, Gabriel and Marcus, and neither one of them were continuing to swim after graduation. It was a sad thought, but I was happy with how they carried themselves. They had both come a long way.

“Take your mark,” My voice echoed. Each boy got into their starting position as I watched them like a hawk. One of the freshmen, Phineas, needed major work on his form. I would talk to Jordan about it. Grabbing hold of my stopwatch, I took a deep breath. “Go!”

Marcus was the first in, like always, and I ignored him. I knew he was fully capable of taking care of himself. Phineas was the weakest link in my chain right now. He was struggling, his arms growing tired and his speed nonexistent. The other freshmen, Tobias, or as the guys called him, Twig, was not much better. He had more strength, but I chopped that up to his size. I would need to really start working some more beginner drills to get them in shape. Jordan and Gabriel would be more than happy to give up a Saturday or two to help out. 

Marcus was the first one finished and I marked his time. Still a tenth of a second faster than Jordan. After Jordan came Gabriel and then Joseph and Anthony. I was disappointed in Jett’s time, but I would invite him to the weekend practices with the others. He needed some foot and hip exercises. Twig came in before Phineas, but every other boy was already out of the water by the time they made it back. Phineas was visibly upset, and I made a note to pull him to the side after practice to cheer him up. 

Practices typically lasted two hours and the boys swam hard. Phineas did, in fact, perk up after I told him I was noticing tons of improvements in his performance. Twig just seemed happy he was not the worst guy in the water. After talking it out with Jordan, we decided on a good weekend time for extra practices, and I stayed behind to print off a poster and signup sheets for the rest of the boys. I had a feeling almost everyone except Marcus would show. He had a part-time job now and his weekends were full. 

Sitting in my office, I poured over my observations and timecards. With a team this large I should have an extra set of hands to help with timing. I sent an email to the principal asking about helpers and got back to the nitty gritty. 

All of them could work on something. Phineas might have needed the most work, Twig not far behind him, but my most seasoned swimmers had room for improvement. Jett was still struggling with maximizing propulsion, Anthony and Milo needed to get better water balance, and Gabriel’s pull could be better. Even my best swimmers, Jordan and Marcus, could use a bit of refinement in technique. It was nitpicking but they were too talented to give up on their potential.

It was close to nine when my phone began to ring. I knew it could not be any of my usual calls. Andy was working nights this week and Jin was fast asleep at home with Dani. Minho was in bed by eight, Matilda would never bother me this late, and Hoseok hated phone calls. Checking the caller ID, I was shocked to see Ozzie’s name.

“Hello?” I answered tentatively, afraid he might have called me by accident.

“Otter,” Ozzie greeted me happily. He seemed so delighted that I answered, I smiled even though I hated the nickname. “How’s life going?”

I chuckled, “Rockin’ and rollin’. Saw your girl last night. Looks great, Oz.”

“Appreciate it,” He was so dismissive of it I became interested. This was not a catch-up phone call or else he might have hooked onto the bait. My stomach twisted in anticipation. If it was not for pleasantries, then it was for work and that was something to be excited about. “Still teaching high school?”

“Mhm,” I fiddled with my pencil, papers forgotten. “My boys team is strong. I only have three girls that signed up so we’re just training during P.E. and hoping some more join.”

We chatted a bit more about the team. The longer it went on the more knots I had. Oswald was fishing for something, and I wanted to figure out what. After telling him about Phineas, I asked what the random call was about.

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

“Alright, you caught me,” Ozzie sighed. “Look, the Olympic team is looking for another assistant coach and your name came up a few times.”

My mouth went dry. I had heard about Tiara Marsh leaving to focus on her family. She had a baby and stepped down a few months after coming back from maternity leave. I respected the decision and messaged her my congratulations. Ozzie had taken the lead coach position three years ago with Todd Packer as his partner. The other assistant, Drew Jones, was a sweet girl from what I heard and working with her would be a dream. 

Still, it was an impossible task. Trying to imagine myself on the sidelines, coaching the next big names in sporting history with a massive squad behind me made my stomach queasy. I doubt any of them respected me. My leg was ruined, my career burned out just as quickly as it started, and I never had the chance to reach my peak. Now I am a 30-year-old washed up recluse. Just thinking about the media frenzy made my breathing get a little heavier. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Oz,” I murmured.

“I told them you wouldn’t go for it,” He replied, unsurprised. “They’re going to approach Storm Kline instead.”

“Oh,” Now I was confused. “Why’d you bring it up then?”

“Because I got to thinking,” I braced myself. Ozzie was known for his big, bright, dumb, impulsive ideas. “I knew the Olympics would be asking too much of you. Cameras and interviews are the last thing you want after the fucking circus you went through last time.”

That was an understatement. Circus did not even begin to describe the absolute hell the media put me through after the accident. So many speculations and insensitive remarks managed to ruin any peace I could have gotten during that time.

While I was in a coma, no one knowing if I would ever wake up again, the news thought it wise to harass my friends and family. My old coach, Victor Stanley, was assaulted whenever he left the hospital. When news got out that Namjoon was pulled off life support, his mother and father were so sick and tired of people parked outside their house they packed up and moved away before I even woke up. I wanted nothing to do with the media after that.

“It’s a little different but I think you’d be a great fit for the job,” Ozzie continued. “One of my boys, Jimin Park, is in need of a personal coach. His mom is sick and he’s wanting to stay in Michigan for as long as he can before coming out to the Springs to start training for Paris.

“I almost called Jung, but I don’t think the two of them would get along well enough for this to work. You’re the only person I know I can trust with him, and from what I’m hearing, you’re one hell of a coach already.”

This was somehow even more nerve wracking than the assistant position. I had never trained one-on-one before, at least, not long term. I was sure I could do it, but a high schooler was very different from an Olympic athlete relying on me to keep him in shape for the season. 

“What happened to Hamilton?” I asked, still unable to wrap my head around the situation. “I thought he was Park’s personal trainer.”

“He was but the two fell out when Jimin decided to stay in Michigan. You know how Matt is.”

That I did. Matthew Hamilton was a massive asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He was one of the best trainers around and got results which was why he still had a job despite his rotten attitude. I had the misfortune of running into him quite a few times over the years and my distaste only grew with each passing. I could imagine that conversation not going over particularly well.

“But what about my team?” I asked, staring at my desk. All of my plans and strategies were mapped out and I was ready to put them to use. My boys were counting on me and leaving them felt wrong. “I don’t want to leave them high and dry, Oz.”

“Ask Hoseok to cover for you,” I rolled my eyes at his blase attitude.

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

I hated that I understood where he was coming from. Most of my boys would never go off to swim professionally and their skill set was not on par with anyone out right now. They were not committed to the strict regime that would take and I did not get paid well enough to justify the extra hours. Jimin, however, would pay me extremely well and I would get that experience under my belt. I might even learn a few new things to add to my own drills.

“Give me a few days to think about it,” I finally conceded. “And set up a phone call, or meeting, or something with the kid. Need to make sure we’re on the same page before we waste one another’s time.”

Ozzie laughed, “I think you’ll get along just fine, but sure. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”

Nothing of much importance was said after that. We hung up with promises of talking soon and then I was alone once more. My office was still just as messy and swamped with paperwork as it had been before, but it all looked different. It felt like I was already gone, and a deep homesickness settled in my chest. I stared at the papers in front of me and sighed before shooting a text to Hoseok.

As I expected, everyone had told me to jump at the opportunity. Hoseok even said if I didn’t, I would be the biggest idiot he had ever met. Matilda asked if she could come (I told her no), and Dani just seemed bummed that we could not hang out anymore. Andy and Jin were the most supportive of the situation while Minho the most cautious. He was worried about the media catching wind of something and causing a frenzy. After Matila pointed out how old news I was, I felt a little less afraid of that possibility even if it was a hit to my ego.

Ozzie seemed pumped when I told him I was open to the idea if Jimin and I seemed to mesh well. I was firm in my decision to talk to him before making any concrete plans, and from what Ozzie told me, my future student was extremely receptive to the idea. I also learned that Opal was jealous of her fellow Olympian, but I tried not to let that puff up my chest. 

That was why I was sitting in my home office, hair nicely styled and a light layer of makeup on waiting for Jimin to join our Zoom call. I wore blue since Ozzie said it was his favorite color, but the material was slowly driving me insane. While the color was nice, deep blue and sparkled whenever the light hit it, it was scratchy and irritated the skin around my chest and shoulders. I almost got up to change but a small icon with the letters ‘JP’ in the center popped up before I could.

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

“Hey,” I replied with an awkward wave. “Can you see me?”

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

Cursing under his breath, Jimin apologized for the tech issues. I adored how nice he was to listen to. It was unique, gentle and raspy, but also feminine in its softness. There was no bass or hardness, every sound and syllable light and airy with self-depreciating laughter after every insult he threw at himself. Apparently, Jimin was not great with technology and always had a difficult time with cyber meetings.

“This is fine with me,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t need to see your face to talk.”

“No,” He agreed, “But it’s a little awkward for you to have your camera on and mine’s off.”

I could hear him clicking around. “I’ll turn mine off, too, if that helps.”

He shut that down immediately and continued clicking and typing. After a few more minutes, he found his problem. Then the icon was gone and there he was.

His face was round, his cheeks plump, and chin soft. The first thing I noticed about him was his lips. They were rounded and plump like a baby duck with a soft, heart shaped cupid’s bow that led up a small, button nose. Everything about his face was soft except his eyes which were almond shaped and flicked outwards like a cat’s. His hair was pitch black and parted down the middle, framing his face and making his pale skin look like snow. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the camera a large smile took over his face and I felt the wind get knocked out of me. 

“Can you see me?” He asked.

I nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re in the clear.”

Neither one of us knew what to say for a moment. He swirled around in his chair in search of his water bottle. He stood up, excusing himself for a moment. He was also wearing a blue shirt, a pair of black pants, and seemed just as nervous as I did. He left the room while I sat and thought about him.

There was one word to describe Jimin: pretty. His soft lines and tiny waist made him look so much smaller than I had imagined him. All of the years seeing him on the tv did nothing to compare to watching him walk around a little room in his home. Without a cap and goggles, Jimin was angelic, and I felt uneasy. How was I supposed to work with someone I found this attractive?

“Sorry,” He was back now, a large Yeti cup in hand. “I should’ve made sure I had this already.”

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

He sat back down, and I finally noticed the large oval necklace he was wearing. I did not know what it could mean to him, but I had seen him with it a few times at events. It was simple and silver, no gem in the center of the pendant, and sat directly over his heart. He took a sip from his cup, snapping me back to action.

“How’s your mother doing?” I asked. “Ozzie told me she wasn’t well.”

His expression saddened me, and I hated that I brought it up. I knew how much I did not enjoy talking about Namjoon’s death, and while his mother was still alive, she was not well. Unfortunately, I could not take the question back.

“I’m not sure how much you know,” He started, leaning back in the leather computer chair. “She has melanoma and isn’t doing chemotherapy anymore. I’m staying in Michigan so I can spend as much time with her as possible.”

My heart ached for him and his family. Cancer had a reputation for ripping families apart and I could only imagine how this was affecting the young swimmer. My own grief was long and drawn out, guilt and shame hanging over my head for years before I was finally able to let it go, but the death itself was swift. Joon was dead and buried before I woke up from the coma, but I could recall every detail of that hospital room when Victor told me what happened. I hated to think about watching the life slip from him, knowing he would die, and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

“I understand. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

I knew it was inadequate, but I did not know this man well enough to say my thoughts out loud. Maybe later, after a few weeks of training together, I could get the courage to let him know I would be there if he needed someone to talk to. I knew all about navigating grief and I would happily help him stay motivated through this horrible, tragic time. Jimin stayed quiet so I took it upon myself to get the ball rolling again.

“I know you’re going through a difficult time right now, and I just want you to know that I get it and I see you. If we work together, I will make sure your mental health comes first. Whatever you need, whatever your family needs, will always come before getting in the pool.

“You were working with Hamilton before this, and whatever happened between you two- I don’t know, that’s none of my business, but I can promise you I will try my best to make sure our professional relationship doesn’t reach that point. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll make it work.”

Jimin smiled a small, sad smile that paled in comparison to that blinding show of teeth earlier. My eyes could not help their roaming and I felt guilty. There was a chance we would be working together, and I could not feel this way about him if that time came. I could only hope that if we did decide to move forward with this arrangement, any affections I could have for him would get buried. I would have to talk to Hoseok about this.

“I have to take her to appointments once a week,” He replied, voice small and eyes staring at something off camera. “She’s not getting her chemo anymore but still goes to see her doctor often to manage symptoms as best she can. She also has a dance class every Sunday morning and I will be going with her.”

I nodded, “I can live with that. As long as you’re still putting in work you can take your mom anywhere.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked at the camera again. The vulnerability I found there took me off guard. Jimin must be someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, and I would have to learn to nurture that. Namjoon always told me I needed to work on being more sensitive to others, a skill I had yet to master. 

“Matt didn’t like how much time I spent out of the pool. I understand where he’s coming from but I’m hoping we can come up with a training schedule that works well for the both of us. I feel bad enough pulling you away from your life, and I don’t want my personal shit to bleed into what you’re going through.”

It was a kind gesture, one I appreciated, but he needed to get over it. I told him in so many words that I was happy to help him.

“Trust me,” I said. “If I didn’t want to do this then we wouldn’t be talking.”

Jimin seemed to like my bluntness and I was fond of his over-analytical anxiety. The way he fidgeted reminded me of Namjoon, his forward and direct confrontation of his emotions and needs so strikingly similar it made it nearly impossible for me to dislike him. I don’t think a person alive could dislike this man. 

“I can be in Ann Arbor next week,” Jimin had gone on another rant about inconveniencing me and I shut it down. “Everything here is already squared away. We can discuss it more later, how does that sound?”

He smiled wearily, his nerves causing him to squirm in his seat. 

“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”

I hoped my expression looked as sincere as I felt, “I’ll take care of you, kiddo.”

Pulling a face, Jimin laughed heartily. Triumphant, I smiled brazenly, his laughter contagious. I made a note to pull out a few age jokes now and then if it meant making him smile like that. 

“I’m an adult man, I’ll have you know,” He was still laughing.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

“We’re going to get along just fine,” He seemed more confident than ever, and it warmed my heart. “Let me know when you’re expected to get here. Do you have my number?”

We exchanged our contact details. After days of talking over email, I finally found a smiley face emoji in my notifications, a Michigan area code attached. Saving his number, I replied with the old woman emoji earning myself another laugh. 

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

I left the meeting, my chest much lighter after talking to him. He was a sweet man and not half bad to look at. I was a few years older but not disgustingly so, and he was more than available from the sound of things. Realizing the direction my thoughts were going in, I stood up from the chair to start writing out some drills and scheduling prototypes. Before I could get out of the door, however, my phone vibrated in my hand.

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

Me: I’m flying in on Tuesday. Know a good place to stay?

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

Jimin: One of my neighbors has their mother-in-law suite for rent. I could probably cut you a good deal with them.

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart. 

Me: Thank you. And no deals. I can pay for myself.

Jimin: My mother would be very upset if I didn’t at least try.

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

I laughed out loud, thoroughly amused. I had a feeling he was testing the waters after I poked fun at him earlier. Jimin was probably used to the stick stuck up Hamilton’s ass. He was in for a treat. At the pool I was cool and collected but I could cut up with the best of them. 

Me: Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the sound of my hip breaking

I was practically giddy with excitement waiting for his response. It had been such a long time since someone joked around with me like this. Hoseok tried but he was awful at taking a joke, so I stopped poking the bear. It was refreshing and all too familiar. 

Jimin: I’ll get you one of those life alerts just in case.

Was he flirting with me? Did I care? Shrugging, I went along with it. I would remain strictly professional while we worked together, but if things developed after that I would let them. Happily. I barely knew this guy, but I remember this feeling. It was the first time since Joon’s death that it showed itself to me and I wanted to hold onto it.

First work then play, I told myself. 

Who knows? This little bit of infatuation could fade just as quickly as it came, and I would leave Ann Arbor with a new friend instead. Might even be able to score a steady job with the kid if things worked out. My life in Colorado would remain untouched, my friends happily accepting a new kid in the group when he came to visit, and my house just as bare and empty as it always had been. The years continuing to pass me by.

I tried not to think about why that thought made me want to cry.

“I told you I’m fine,” I sighed into the phone, waiting at the baggage claim for my things. “You’re in rare form today.”

Andrea laughed, the sound slightly hysterical and I winced. That was the wrong thing to say, but she was driving me insane. I had traveled around the world multiple times, and she was acting like Michigan was going to kill me.

“Well excuse me for worrying,” Andy bit back, her tone clipped and harsh.

“I’m sorry,” I heaved one of my bags off the conveyor belt. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you I’m fine Andrea. You’ll be my first phone call if that changes.”

The other bag finally popped up and I quickly snatched it. Slinging the large duffle bag over my shoulder, I adjusted it until it rested comfortably on my shoulders. Lifting the handlebar off my large suitcase, I drug it behind me while I followed the signs for the exit. Jimin said he arranged for someone to pick me up but did not specify who. He was busy with a few interviews this morning and could not get me himself. He had been very disappointed about it.

“I know I’m nagging,” Andy groaned. “Scratch that. I’m acting like a total helicopter parent.”

I laughed, “Your husband had been even worse. The man tried to book me a charter flight because he was worried about my leg in an airport. What the fuck does that even mean?”

Everyone had been super happy for me, especially my team. Those boys almost cried when I told them who I was helping out and Jordan begged me to bring him back something autographed. None of them seemed as familiar with my own background but I was fine with that. All of them took to Hoseok rather well, except for Marcus who made me swear to come back before school let out. I did not tell them I was planning to make monthly trips to give Jimin some space with his mom. I was sure that surprise would go over very, very well.

Despite his indifference when I was first talking about the job, Seokjin became an overprotective dad as soon as I made him aware my flights were booked. He was quick to cancel them and put in a few calls of his own. Jin was an operations manager for Delta airlines and knew plenty of pilots. He was able to get me a plane to land in Willow Run out in Ypsilanti, but I quickly intervened and told him a normal flight was perfect. I rebooked my tickets and flew into Detroit Metro at 10 am.

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

It was snowing in Michigan, and I was finally hit with the realization that I would be seeing far more of it here than I ever did back in Colorado. It was only mid-September, so it was still light and melted away quickly. I would have to ask Jimin if it stayed this calm into December, but I had a feeling things would pick up by late November. 

It was a very cold morning in Detroit, and I was excited to get into a heated car. Getting off the phone with Andy, I quickly sent Jimin a quick text message letting him know I was outside and looking for my ride. A loud honk made my jump, almost dropping my phone in the process.

Pulled up at the curb was a navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. I could tell from its body that it was an older model, and it was a convertible. Sitting behind the wheel was a little old lady, a pair of gardening gloves on her hands and a pair of large, hexagon sunglasses taking up most of her face. Her face was familiar, and it hit me. Sitting behind that wheel was Jimin’s mother. 

She smiled at me and waved, beckoning me closer to the little car. I forced myself to smile back. My nerves made it feel damn near impossible, but I managed. Opening the door, I did not know where to put my things. The backseat was so small.

“There’s a lever on that side that’ll push it up. You should be able to get everything to fit if you try hard enough.”

Fumbling around, I finally found the little handle and pulled up. The seat lurched forward, folding in on itself, and I clumsily shoved my suitcase into the backseat. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fake pine, but when you had a car this old it usually had history. I was excited to pick up my new car from the dealership. My Porsche already had a difficult time driving around Colorado and I did not think it would survive the heavy winters in Michigan, so I decided to leave it home and get an Altima. I had the money and could easily get rid of it. Tilly had been talking about needing an upgrade. 

Finally managing to get both bags into the backseat, I put the seat back and got into the car. Closing the door, I sighed in content. The heaters were at full blast and pointed directly at my cold face. Buckling my seatbelt, I leaned back and tried to relax after the long day of flying. Jimin’s mother pulled off the curb.

“It’s cold out there,” She laughed, her voice just as sickeningly sweet as her son’s. “Glad you were able to make it okay.”

I nodded, “I’m surprised to see it snowing so early. We don’t usually get anything until closer to Thanksgiving.”

“Colorado, right?” I could hear a faint accent and I remembered that Jimin was first-generation Korean American. Both of his parents moved to the states before he and his brother were born. Media outlets loved talking about it, but I was not sure how much he enjoyed discussing his personal life. While he came off as a sweet and mild-mannered man, he kept his personal life private. “I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”

“It is. Too expensive, but very, very pretty.”

Then she was fiddling around with the radio, and I finally cracked a genuine smile. I was not sure how much work had been done on her car, but I was positive the sound system had been completely redone. A brand-new radio, complete with a touch screen and Bluetooth, lit up at the touch of her fingers. A man’s voice serenaded us through the updated speakers, and I was in awe at how beautiful it sounded. I assumed he was speaking Korean and Jimin’s mother sang along fluently. 

“What’s your name again?” She asked once the song was over. Another, more upbeat song started, and she increased the volume. “Jimin told me but I’m horrible with that sort of thing. I’m Na-Yeon, but Audrey works if it’s easier for you.”

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

“It’s my American name. It’s easier for people to pronounce and more convenient. All of us have one. Jimin’s is Christian.”

It was odd to think about. A name that was mine but not mine. Christian did not suit Jimin, but I could imagine growing up with a name that other people made fun of would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. Still, I did not feel comfortable calling the woman Audrey. She did not seem to particularly care for the name and I did not want to alienate myself from their circle for convenience's sake.

Namjoon’s mother had been similar to Na-Yeon, always afraid her culture and customs would make me uncomfortable or burdened, but I managed to calm her fears and reassure her after years of showing up to Chuseok with a smile on my face and food in my hands.

“I like Na-Yeon,” I finally replied, voice small. “It’s nice. I’m Y/N.”

“I like Y/N,” She echoed back to me, making me grin. “It’s nice.”

It was a long drive filled with K-pop, ballads, and sporadic conversation. Na-Yeon was very funny. She sang along to every song, dancing as she went, and calling on me to sing alone. Of course, I could not speak Korean very well and hummed the melodies instead, but it appeased her. When she did speak to me it was to ask me questions about myself. 

“You’re that swimmer, aren’t you?” She asked, sparing me a look once we stopped at a redlight. “The one everyone’s trying to beat.”

I shook my head, “At one time, sure, but not anymore. I’m retired.”

Squinting her eyes at me, Na-Yeon pursed her lips. 

“We used to watch you. Haru called you a mermaid.”

 That was not too much of a shock. Jimin was swimming at that time. While I am a few years older than him, he would have been in middle school when I went to my first Olympics. He had told me he joined the swim team the year before. He said that watching Michael Phelps win 6 gold medals changed his life forever, and I could not help but agree with him. I had a huge amount of respect for my fellow Olympian and wished him well in his retirement. What shocked me the most was the mention of Jimin’s little brother. The dead brother.

“That’s sweet,” I did not know what to say. “I felt like a mermaid back then. I’m not that good anymore but I still like to swim sometimes.”

“You were in an accident,” It was not a question. “We saw it all over the news. Couldn’t believe all of those people harassing your family like that. So sorry for your loss.”

It was strange to talk about it again. I appreciated her keeping it vague. I had gone through a tremendous amount of change and growth since then, but it was nice to hear someone else validate how crazy the media frenzy was. I would not wish it upon anyone, and I was happy her family was allowed to grieve in peace. Neither Namjoon’s nor my own were allowed that luxury.

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m sorry about Haru. I can’t imagine what your family went through.”

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

We did not talk much after that. The music still played, Na-Yeon still sang, and I still hummed, but we did not ask any more questions. Neither one of us wanted to bring up those hurt feelings. It was not until we turned down a long, empty road that I realized I had yet to ask her about her cancer. 

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

“As good as I can,” She breathed. “My boys are both worriers so don’t take anything they say to heart. Bunch of hypochondriacs.”

And even though I laughed along with her, I knew that she was lying. They were not overreacting. She was sick, refusing treatments, and letting herself die. Anyone would be worried about her. Na-Yeon must dislike being taken care of. Well, I thought she would need to get used to it. I loved spoiling others. 

“Eloise and the kids must be here,” She muttered to herself, pulling to a short driveway. 

I did not know who Eloise was, but I would soon find that out. There were two cars parked out front. One was a simple, black Tahoe with a brightly colored steering wheel cover. The other was another vintage model. Painted a pretty light, muted green the truck was in pristine condition. It was an old Ford, the branding written across the tailgate, and a spare tire was bolted to the side. I asked Na-Yeon about it and she smiled happily.

“It’s Jimin’s,” I felt my heart rate increase. “He must’ve gotten back. Pretty thing, huh?”

I nodded, not really paying attention to the truck anymore. I was about to meet Jimin for the first time and my nerves were taking over. I knew how much his looks affected me over video chat and I was afraid I would not be able to control my facial expressions in person. I was resolute not to act on whatever attraction I may have felt toward him. My professionalism would not allow it. It did not mean, however, that I wanted to discuss it with Jimin at any point. It would make him uncomfortable and affect our working environment. 

“Keep your bags in the car,” Na-Yeon told me. “Jimin’s going to take you over to meet the Andersons this afternoon.”

Walking up to the house, I was first struck by two things. The main one being the impressive teal it was painted and the other the loud talking and laughter coming from inside. It was odd. Thinking about my own parents I knew we had never been so happy. Mom had left when I was so young that I could hardly remember her, but I could recall the screaming and shouting. Dad was quiet after she left, spent most of his time locked away in the garage watching sports channels and leaving me to my own devices. 

When I started swimming it helped for a time, but when I was old enough to leave, we spoke two or three times a year. After he met Danielle, his new wife, he stopped reaching out altogether. The accident had spooked him enough to warrant holiday and birthday calls for a time, but when he had another baby those slowly faded away. My half-sister and I had never met, Danielle did not like acknowledging that my dad had a child with another woman, and it seemed as though my dad was fine with how things turned out. I dealt with it.

The laughing echoed through the house, and I could hear loud foot-steps pitter pattering on the tile floors. The house smelled heavily of kimchi and lemons making my heart ache. Joon and I used to keep the windows open for days after his mother came over to make kimchi with him. We would squat on the floor for hours, laughing and talking. I missed those days more than I realized and I smiled involuntarily. For the first time in years, it felt like coming home.

“Sorry about the smell,” Na-Yeon whispered to me. 

I shook my head and took my shoes off. “I love kimchi.”

She smiled brightly, her shoulders immediately relaxing. I was glad I had spent so much time with Namjoon and his family. Na-Yeon was someone who wanted to make others feel more comfortable even if it put her own peace at risk, but I would never ask her to change her routine for me. I loved learning about other people and her little house brought me more happiness than I thought possible. 

“Sounds like we have company!”

A short, stocky man came into the living room. He was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki shorts; his hair was very short with silver streaks starting to take over the once very black strands. Catching sight of me he smiled. 

“You must be Y/N,” The man said. “I’m James.”

His accent was much thicker than Na-Yeon’s and he introduced himself in his English name. He seemed much happier about it than his wife did, and I decided to go along with it. If he wanted me to call him James, then I would.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, giving him a small bow.

His smile got even bigger somehow, and he returned the gesture. Na-Yeon chuckled beside me and started to speak to her husband in Korean. I picked up a few words and deduced that he was supposed to make sure I was going to get a nice lunch, and she wanted to know if he had taken care of it. He nodded and told her he had.

“Hungry?” James asked, Na-Yeon already disappearing into the house.

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

“I made jjigae,” He frowned. “I can’t say it in English. Sorry.”

The house was small and warmly lit. Cream tile flooring, exposed wood beams, and white walls. Whatever loud conversation they had been having before I got here had died down, but the footsteps did not. I could hear children giggling somewhere in the little home and my curiosity peaked. I did not think they were Na-Yeon and James’s.

“I want to say it’s soup,” I kept my voice down not wanting to make him feel awkward. “Or stew, but I don’t think it matters that much.”

“What’s the difference?” James asked, just as amused as his wife at my vague knowledge of Korean words. “Soup and stew the same, no?”

I shrugged, “I have no clue. I’m a miserable cook.”

That made James laugh. We passed all of the rooms in the house, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in the back of the house. As we passed the second room to the left, James said it had been Haru’s photography studio before he passed away, but they ended up converting it once Eloise gave birth. He did not say it out loud, but I had gathered the kids running around had been their youngest son’s. I did not know how old Haru had been when he died, but it was far too young to be having children. I was 31 and still felt ill equipped for the job. 

It was a small kitchen with very simple and plain colors. The countertops were obviously laminate, but someone had taken the time to stick on a marble patterning to make it look nicer. Black appliances clashed with the chestnut cabinets. The tiles were no longer cream but hideous black and white checker printed that clashed heavily against the olive-green backsplash. While the rest of the house seemed to go through renovations at some point, I had a feeling the kitchen remained largely untouched. 

Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Na-Yeon, Jimin, and a young woman. She was a cute girl, long brown hair and blue eyes, a large number of freckles across her cheeks. Her outfit was very modest, a pair of flowy cream pants and an equally flowy olive shirt. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her pants, and taking a closer look at her, she wore no makeup. A classic girl next door.

“Come sit,” Na-Yeon waved me over, her voice showing no room for argument. “Hyun-Soo is in charge of lunch.”

I was only briefly confused, the name completely unfamiliar, but by the time I sat down I was sure she was talking about James. It made sense for her to call him by his Korean name, and since I had shown no qualms about using their proper names, she saw no need to bring them up herself. 

“Nice to finally meet you,” Jimin’s sweet voice reached me, and I smiled at the sound. “I hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”

He reached out to me, and I happily took his hand in my own. The skin was soft, perfectly smooth, and warm. It was over far too quickly but my displeasure was easily hidden. Andrea always complained about my poker face and how difficult it was to get past it. She said it was too good and thus refused to ever play poker with me again. 

“It was nice,” I meant it. Na-Yeon was wonderful company. 

“Hope the concert was nice.”

That made me and Eloise laugh. Na-Yeon smacked Jimin’s arm playfully, unable to keep the smile off her face, and the two began to bicker. Having them in the same room highlighted the differences I hadn't noticed before. Jimin’s nose was closer to his father’s, his eyes, too, and both of them had a slight lisp. Na-Yeon’s teeth were perfectly white and straight while one of Jimin’s front teeth was slightly chipped. Jimin had a dimple; his mother had none. Their English soon turned to digs in Korean and I could no longer follow. A few words here and there but nothing substantial. James joined them.

“Hi,” Eloise shyly greeted me, obviously used to being left out of conversations.

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

She nodded, “Cam and Harper are playing but you’ll meet them in a bit.”

I nodded along and cemented the names into memory. It would look bad if I forgot them and kids had an ability to remember the worst things about a person. I did not want them to dislike me this quickly. Their giggles and feet were still going, and I suspected they had their own rooms on top of the little playroom in the hall.

“What do you do for work?” I asked Eloise, hoping my attempts at small talk were going over well. The other three were still chatting and I stopped paying attention long enough to be completely lost. Their dialect was different from Namjoon’s family, and I gave up entirely once they switched in and out of it with ease. 

“I’m taking over Audrey’s restaurant,” Eloise, it seemed, preferred to use their American names. I wondered if she called Jimin ‘Christian.’ I really did not like the name for him. Not at all. “We used to be co-owners but she’s preparing for…” Eloise’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to come up with a way to voice her thoughts, “her next steps. You know what I mean?”

I nodded. It was so easy to forget why I was really here when Na-Yeon was so full of life. She laughed and joked easily, sang off-key in the car without a care in the world, and called the shots at home. I had hardly noticed any sickness, but I knew better. I already figured out she hated being cared for and our trip in the car could have taken a lot of her. More than I realized.

Wanting to change the subject, I asked about the kids. Eloise was more than happy to talk about her little ones. Cameron and Harper were twins, names that she had originally been very against but when she lost Tony (Haru preferred his American name, Anthony, and all of his closest friends called him Tony), her opinions changed. Harper was the bigger, older baby, while her brother needed to stay in the NICU for a few days after birth due to his weight. They were joined at the hip and rarely seen without the other, something Eloise was happy about given she was usually too busy to spend as much time with them as she would have liked.

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

Jimin was 19 then. I shuddered to think about how old Haru was, or Eloise for that matter when they became parents. When I was their age, I had been at the top of my game, though not what I would call my prime. If I had gotten pregnant my career would not have been over, but meeting Joon never would have happened. That was a travesty regardless of how things turned out. Trying to picture a life without him touching it made me physically ill and so I pushed any of those thoughts away.

Cam and Harper came out of their room when dinner was ready. They were both very cute, loud, and dressed identically. Harper’s hair was braided down her back while Cam’s was in a bowl cut, and I laughed every time the little girl made a big show about her sparkly red shoes.

James made a very spicy fish stew. It was delicious, so salty and hot, but I needed multiple glasses of water as I ate. He used red snapper adding a sweet, nutty flavor to the otherwise savory dish and I loved the zucchini. Like many Korean meals there was an array of side dishes surrounding the large pot of stew. Tonight was braised potatoes, steamed eggplant, a radish salad, and, of course, kimchi. A small bowl of rice was given to all of us to eat the stew with and the rice cooker was filled if any of us wanted more. 

The Parks were a lovely family. Jimin was quiet and did not talk to me much but his mother more than made up for his silence. After getting all of the details about my coaching job she moved on to my life back in Colorado. We talked about my friends and what they were like, my house, and even my neighbors. Na-Yeon seemed particularly interested in Hoseok since Jimin had been such a fan of his growing up. 

“You need to get her over to Calvin and Violet’s,” James told his son, scraping up the last bit of the soup out of his bowl. “They’re expecting her soon.”

Jimin looked at me, eyebrow raised, “Are you ready?”

I nodded, “We can leave whenever you’re done.”

He smiled and went back to eating his meal. Eloise left before I did, Cam was tired and Harper was bored without her playmate, so she decided it was time they went home. Cam liked an afternoon nap still, but his sister could run all day if you let her. Harper gave me a big bear hug before she left, something Na-Yeon said she did to everyone, and held her brother’s hand on their way out. 

Na-Yeon eventually got up from the table, James followed after her, leaving Jimin and I alone. I did not know what to say, if he wanted me to say anything at all. He had hardly spoken to me since I arrived, and it left me feeling out of place. I was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with me. He kept eating, the spice unfazed him, and getting bowl after bowl of rice. 

Watching him walk around I was struck by how short he was. Most male swimmers were huge, well over 6 feet, and broadly built. Not Jimin. He could not be any taller than 5’9” with a thin, tiny waist. I could see defined muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt, but nothing spectacular. Even his body was soft and elegant, moving gracefully and quietly, and absolutely none of it would give away that he was a world-class athlete. As if he could feel my eyes following him, Jimin’s eyes snapped to meet my own.

“Sorry,” He pulled his spoon from his mouth. “I’m sure you’d like to leave and here I am gorging myself.”

I stopped him before he could stand, “No, no. I’m fine. I was just thinking about your workout routine.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but I could hear how natural it sounded. He sat back down and took another bite of his food. His workout regime was standard for most swimmers. Pull-ups, bench, squat, lunge, power cleans, power cleans to overhead press. After that he was in the pool for a few hours before going about his day. He usually added in another swim at the end of the day, but he had recently given it up to have dinner with his family. 

“What are you doing for your core?” I asked.

“I stick to pull ups, crunches, thrusts, and back extensions.”

I nodded, frowning, gears in my head turning. I have always believed the core was the most important part of swimming. Arms as well, but I have seen many overwork those muscles and lose from weak turns. Hoseok used to joke about my performance and how I only won because of my turns. I would make sure he would be able to see a little bit of me in Jimin’s swimming. There was a reason I won gold.

“You don’t look very impressed.”

I chuckled, “Just thinking. You need more variety than that.”

“Gym snob, are we?” His mouth stretched into a playful smirk, and I could not help but smile back. “You must be an animal in there.”

“I don’t work out like I used to,” I admitted, averting my eyes. “Most of my exercises are yoga and running now. I swim twice a week.”

I was hoping to get back in the pool more often, but I was not sure I was ready for the disappointment that would follow. My sessions with Emery were simple, exercise-focused, and had little to no expectations behind them. They were there to help me gain strength and confidence in myself. Saturdays were spent with Hoseok doing laps around the pool and shooting the shit. It was just enough to get your heart pumping but never went past that. 

Failing was daunting. I could not remember a time before swimming consumed my life. My dad always said I was afraid of the water; it was the biggest reason he placed me in lessons. He did not have the time (nor patience) to teach me himself, and after I saw younger children getting into the pool I was determined to act like a “big girl.” I was only three at the time, so the memory was lost to time, but I went every week after that. It gave my dad a break and I had friends for the first time. I learned later that mom had left for a few months and dad was drinking again, but at the time all I knew was that I liked swimming, and I was good at it.

It was frightening to believe that all of the time, energy, and hard work went to waste. 30 seconds. That was all it took to destroy my life. 30 seconds and all of my joy, love, and happiness was gone. My career, my health, and my Joon. I hated the man who hit us. Hated the way his family cried for me. For him. For Joon. Squeeze my hands into fists, I was glad they were hidden underneath the table. Getting in the water and realizing it was truly over would only make that hatred worsen, and my therapist told me I needed to let go of my anger.

“Violet and Calvin are excited to meet you,” I did not know if Jimin could see something in his face, perhaps my eyes, but he changed the subject. The look on his face made me feel exposed. “We should get going.”

No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags. 

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.

“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.

Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage. 

Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.

He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.

This trip was going to be long. Very, very long. 

The drive down the road was quiet. Jimin’s radio was out, and he needed to replace it, so music was not an option, and he did not seem to want to fill the space between us. Neither did I. My growing bashfulness around him was distracting and strange. I had always been surrounded by attractive men, all of my friends back home were very good looking, but none affected me in the same way Jimin had. Perhaps it was due to my relationship with Namjoon that made all of the other men pale in comparison, but I could never know for sure. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating.

We drove for less than ten minutes. Calvin and Violet were the elderly couple renting out the small house in their backyard. Jimin had spoken to them for me, and they were all too willing to help me out. Violet nearly cried when I told her I was going to pay all of my rent up front, and actually did when I told her that I would help her fix up some things around the house while I was in town. The Andersons seemed like lovely people, and I was happy to know them.

Pulling up to the house I smiled. It was exactly how I imagined it would be. The Anderson house was a simple, All-American home with a front porch. The window trimming was black, house white, and a beautiful garden wrapped around the front at either side. The roof and front door were the same color green as Jimin’s truck, and it helped the otherwise unnoteworthy home feel more inviting. Sitting on the porch swing was Violet, her silver hair braided down her shoulder.

“Before we get out,” Jimin mumbled, waving at Violet through my window. The old woman waved back, a large smile on her face making her look twenty years younger. “The Andersons are great people, but Calvin’s starting to forget stuff. Violet won’t admit it but it’s getting hard on her to deal with him. He can become very angry so keep an ear out. Last time he had an episode, Violet called my dad crying. She’s not handling it well.”

I frowned, my heart hurting, “Sure thing. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“Thanks.”

He was out of the car a few seconds later, voice so sweet and bubbly you would have never guessed what we had been talking about. Staring after him, my eyes squinted. I would have to keep my eye on him. Jimin was a great actor.

Getting out of the truck, I took out my bags and slung my duffle on my back. Jimin was quick to take my suitcase away once he caught me in the corner of his eye. Violet seemed positively giddy about it and made a few inappropriate comments about Jimin needing to settle down.

“I’m just saying,” She laughed when Jimin scoffed, face flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “You’re going to make a young woman very happy. Might as well get started.”

It was strange to think about my trainee seeing someone. He had made it very clear in his interviews over the years that his dating life was on hold until he was finished swimming. He did not want the added distraction and his family life was far too chaotic for him to focus on someone. This did not seem to deter Violet and her comments about his love life, or lack thereof, continued until we got inside of the house.

“Well,” Violet acknowledged me for the first time since I arrived, “This is the main house. It’s not much but it’ll work. Christian, take her stuff out back.”

I cringed. It really did not suit Jimin at all, but he seemed completely unfazed. Violet used his names interchangeably, sometimes calling him Jimin and other times Christian, but his English name rolled off her tongue more often than not. I wondered why she even bothered calling him Jimin at all. He did not seem to care either way.

Looking around the little house, I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it all was. The floors were carpeted and the walls a bright white, family photos hung up alongside landscape paintings. During my two-hour phone call with Violet, the woman talked my ear off, she bragged about Calvin’s art. I had to admit they were all very beautiful and I wanted to know where he had found all of the slices of heaven he captured. I hoped the places themselves were more colorful than he depicted. The muted washes of color made them blend in with the rest of the boring house even with how nice they were.

The furniture was just as boring as the house itself. All of it was cream or beige, nothing of importance really stuck out to me, and I was disappointed. All I could figure out about the couple was one was an artist and they had children and grandchildren they loved displaying. Even the smell of the house lacked character. No air freshener, no food, and no perfumes. Nothing to give away that people actually lived here. The Anderson home was a foil to the Park’s in every way.

“Come on out back,” Violet was already across the house, standing in front of a door beside the kitchen. “This is the utility room. You can do your laundry here.”

Following behind her, I felt even more depressed looking at her kitchen. It was nice, new appliances and a pretty coffee station on the corner closest to the utility room door, but it was bland. All white cabinets, white marble countertops, and stainless steel everything. Even the curtains hanging around the windows above the sink were dreadfully plain.

The utility room, like everything else, was plain. The washer and dryer were white, the floor concrete, and the shelving barebones. The detergent was the most colorful thing I saw since arriving. Somehow even this room smelled like absolutely nothing. Directly across from the door we entered was the backdoor and Violet told me where they would hide a key for me to be able to get inside.

“Ready to see it?” She asked, smiling politely. 

I nodded, “Thanks again for renting it out to me.”

She chuckled, “No thanks needed. You were paying, that was enough for me to say yes.”

The back porch was tiny, just barely big enough for the both of us to stand on. There was a small vegetable garden along the side of the house, but it was empty. Noticing my wandering eyes, Violet told me all about the turnips and gourds she had been planting this season. She had watermelon and tomatoes in the summer, but they were long gone. The rest of the yard was taken up by my home for the next few months.

It was small, but that was to be expected. What disappointed me, though I should have not been very surprised, was how white it was. The windows were a dark gray, a small porch was set up with enough room for one of those hanging egg chairs, and two built-in planters. They were empty and Violet told me I was welcome to give gardening a chance if I was interested. She was planning on growing some flowers eventually, but she was not sure what she wanted.

The front door was open, Jimin already inside, and Violet and I went in. There was a small entryway, two doors leading to rooms I would explore later, and a small shoe rack. I took mine off and put them up. Violet watched me and took hers off as well.

“Audrey told me I should put one in here,” I was learning that Violet enjoyed meaningless small talk. “Glad I did. Don’t think Christian took his shoes off, though.”

I shrugged, “No biggie. I was going to clean up around here anyway.”

The house opened up to my right and I was happy with the space. I had a fully functional kitchen and enough space for my coffee cabinet along the wall. The living room would be able to fit a small loveseat, television, and coffee table. It was white and plain, but I was very happy with the floors. Whoever picked out the dark vinyl flooring must have had me in mind. I would go crazy if this place was as sterile as the Andersons’.

“I put your stuff in your room.”

Turning I grinned at Jimin. It was sweet of him to help me out. I was going to pick up my car tomorrow morning and he had volunteered to drive me. We would be starting our training next week so I could have some time to settle in. All of my furniture was arriving either tomorrow or the day after and my hands would be full. I was counting on Jimin and his friends to help me unpack. His manager was going to make himself known as well, but would not be staying for long. Apparently, according to Jimin, Sejin was not one to get his hands dirty.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Violet was already scratching to leave, and I wondered why. She had been very hospitable over the phone. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. Calvin is going to bring the air mattress out here tonight, so you have someplace to sleep.”

With a kiss on Jimin’s cheek, Violet slipped on her flats and left. Alone with Jimin again, I found it hard to speak. We were much better over text. Looking just as lost as I was, Jimin scratched the back of his neck and looked down. 

“My, uh, my mom offered you her couch if you want it,” He stuttered, his face turning red. “Or, uh, um, you can take the spare room at my place,” He let out a huge gust of wind. “It’s a bit of a drive but I do have the space.”

Flustered, I quickly declined, “Thanks but I’ll be fine here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin shook his head, the redness spreading down his neck. “For sure. Totally.”

The air was awkward now and I could not figure out how to fix it. Jimin was the one always breaking the ice between us, and now that he was acting like this I was stranded at sea. Even when he warned me he was more reserved in person I had not expected this. He was so quiet and skittish. How was I supposed to work with him if I could not get the courage to speak?

“Thanks for the offer,” I cleared my throat. “Are you staying for dinner?”

He shook his head, “I promised Jungkook we’d go out tonight. Any other time I’d say yes.”

I asked my disappointment. The thought of spending time with Violet and Calvin alone made me deeply uncomfortable. Their house felt like a hospital room and her weird behavior was unsettling. I could only hope Calvin was nicer but from what Jimin said he was a ticking time bomb. It would be nice to have someone act as a buffer.

“Why was she acting so strangely?” I asked, hoping Jimin had picked up on it as well. “It was like a totally different person.”

He frowned, “I think she’s just on edge since Calvin went to the doctor’s today. Their daughter took him, and she hasn’t heard anything. She’s a sweet woman, don’t worry.”

Now I felt like an asshole.

“That’s understandable,” I murmured. “Do you think she’ll be upset if I order food for all of us? If she’s stressed out, I don’t want her feeling like she has to cook for me.”

Jimin smiled, “She would appreciate it. I’ll go talk to her, how does that sound?”

I nodded, grateful. “That would be nice. The house gives me the creeps.”

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him. 

“Feels like a funeral home or something. I hate the minimalist aesthetic.”

Jimin bit his lip, “You’d probably hate my place, too, then.”

I chuckled. It was easy to imagine Jimin inside of a huge modern house, dark wood and barely anything in it. He was a single man, busy, and spent so much time at his parent’s house it did not matter what he had inside of his own place. Not wanting to make him self conscious, I bit my tongue. 

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He cocked his head to the side, and I laughed.

“Fine,” I conceded. “I would probably dislike it, but I don’t think it looks like a white padded cell.”

I may have been exaggerating a bit, but it was not that far off from how the Anderson home looked to me. I hoped by asking me to help fix up a few things, Violet meant giving the house a much-needed makeover. If I was lucky, I might be able to convince her to get a few throw pillows to break up the monotony.

“Jeez,” Jimin laughed. “Harsh critic.”

“Well, is it?” I joked, glad to have found our footing again.

“No,” He shook his head in thought. “It’s mostly gray and black, but still just as empty. Probably emptier, honestly. I don’t have as many pictures as Violet does.”

Smirking, he snapped his fingers, “My trophy room is pretty colorful. I have a lot of pictures and shit in there.”

That made me smile. I was not bringing any of my memorabilia here, but it was nice to hear him sound so proud of himself. I kept most of my competition stuff in my basement, a large China cabinet displaying all of my awards. My favorite had to be the small, cheaply made trophy sat at the very top. It was beside my Olympic medals, worn and dull beside the beautiful necklaces, but I loved it all the same. 

It was the first trophy I ever won. I was seven and my dad convinced me to sign up for a swimming competition my swim class was hosting. He promised to come. I practiced a lot preparing for it and made use of the new above ground pool my dad had bought. I won the race. My own joy and happiness made me forget that he never showed up until it was time to go home. I had to wait with my coach for two hours, and by the end of it she felt so bad for me she took me out for ice cream. Dad never apologized, I don’t even think he acknowledged that I won at all, and I never tried to bring it up again. Still, I loved that stupid thing. It was the reason I wanted to compete. That little pocket of happiness between winning and realizing that no one cared was precious to me and I held onto it. 

“I need to get going,” Jimin sighed, reaching into his back pocket and snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jungkook’s blowing up my phone. Just got broken up with and needs a drinking buddy.”

I sucked in air through my teeth, “Well, your services are needed. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Jimin smiled at me, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

I nodded, “See you.”

He lingered in the entryway for a moment more before shaking out of whatever trance he had been in. Slipping his converse back on, Jimin waved at me before walking outside. His face was buried in his phone, so he never saw me wave back. He shut the door, the sound echoing in the empty house, and I was once again left alone.

Violet came out a few minutes later to discuss take out until we finally landed on pizza. She never said thank you, but her offer to give the tip since I was paying was more than enough. Then later when a few of my boxes came in early she happily carried them to me. She even helped me put everything away. When Calvin came home, she led me back inside and said with so much affection it made my heart melt.

"Calvin, this is Y/N. Sweetest woman I ever did meet. Bought us dinner."

Calvin reminded me of Namjoon in a way. His soft eyes and gentle voice. He took my hand when I introduced myself, his hands cold and soft. Wrinkles and sunspots went up the length of his arms.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," He said.

"Likewise," I replied.

We ate in silence, the three of us watching Jeopardy on the sofa. Even though I had been nervous about eating inside, Calvin's presence warmed the place up. Once a prison now felt like a poorly decorated home. A home filled with love.

As I watched them together, Calvin reaching out for Violet's hand and her giving it to him without question, I felt myself getting choked up. There had been a time I had that. Joon would be on the floor, book in his lap, while my hands were in his hair as I studied my training tapes.

I left early that night. I blew up the mattress, the house quiet, before sending out a few texts to my friends to let them know I was getting on alright. After that, I put on nature sounds to help me drift off to sleep. I had not felt this lonely in a very long time.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#park jimin fanfic #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jimin x y/n #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader #bts smut #jimin smut #bts angst #jimin angst #bts fluff #jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #bts x fem!reader #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #min yoongi #older reader

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | series masterlist

Hi, and welcome to Bora Ranch!

At Bora Ranch you will rediscover who you are, reconnect with your sister, and your childhood friend, Park Jimin, that will stir old feelings back. There's a lot of ups and downs, a lot of heartbreak, misunderstandings, what ifs, bad timing, but in the end, you will know what truly makes your heart beat, and where your heart's home is.

It's a story that will take you on a heartbreaking journey to find out what love is and the meaning of 'home', coming home and finding love. There's a lot of angst in it, I'd call it HEALING ANGST. Everything will be good in the end! Just have to go through a lot of heartbreak before the sun truly shines. There's a lot of soulmates vibes/undertones in it, and it's a lovestory at it's core. It's very romancey (Why do I suddenly feel like I wrote a YA but with mature language???).

This story is HEAVLY inspired by McLoed's Daughters (both the world/setting/plot), some plot points follow that story, but most of it doesn't.

“It will take some time To find your heart And come back home You could walk for miles Cross every river And find your not alone ‘Cos I'll be there” - From McLeod’s Daughters theme song

🐴 Summary: You’d never thought you’d step foot back at the ranch– a place you used to call home a long time ago. When you are forced to go back, reconcile with your sister and a certain childhood friend that you had long forgotten, will sparks reunite? 🐴 Pairing: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter)*, jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc *I also want to clarify some things about the tags/pairings! Jungkook x reader only happens once, it is crucial for the sake of the plot, but please don't let that stop you from reading it (I take it you want to read it because of Jimin x reader). Jimin x reader is the main couple! 🐴 Characters: female reader (she’s more like an OC, but isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴 AUs: ranch!au, slice of life!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, cowboy!au, soulmate!au 🐴 Genres: smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst (yes, it’s got everything lol!) 🐴 Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact! 🐴 Word count: 230k (epilogue excluded) 🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴 Warnings/tag: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain sexual themes, smut and a lot of sexual tension and a hell of a lot of angst! Like series is an emotional rollercoaster ride, it will leave you both happy, sad, frustrated, mad, angry and oh so in love. All through the series. You have been warned, lol. 🐴 Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!) 🐴 Fancy reading on AO3? It is cross-posted there! 🐴 Do you want to see the book cover (there's a teaser too)? [it's here] 🐴 Author’s note: this series is heavily inspired by the TV show McLeod’s Daughters. Some plot points will feel familiar, while others won’t (because I don’t follow that story structure to a tee). But If you love that show that I do, I’m 100% sure you’ll love this story too! Also, I don’t expect people to really be interested in this… this is more of a story about coming home, finding home, finding love and such… and I don’t know if you want to read that sort of thing? But I fucking love it! ✨

Chapter #1 - Inheritance | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter one

Chapter #2 - It’s a Long Road | word count: 9.1k | read → chapter two

Chapter #3 - Sometimes | word count: 11.8k | read → chapter three

Chapter #4 - It Comes to This | word count: 7.5k | read → chapter four

Chapter #5 - Our Home, Our Place | word count: 11k | read → chapter five

Chapter #6 - Wild Horses | word count: 11k | read → chapter six

Chapter #7 - We Got it Wrong | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter seven

Chapter #8 - Love You, Hate You | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter eight

Chapter #9 - Take the Rain Away | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter nine

Chapter #10 - The First Touch | word count: 16.4k | read → chapter ten

Chapter #11 - This Perfect Day | word count: 14.4k | read → chapter eleven

Chapter #12 - Broken Dreams | word count: 14.4k | read → chapter twelve

Chapter #13 - Love Letter | word count: 13.4k | read → chapter thirteen

Chapter #14 - I Wish the Past was Different | word count: 10.5k | read → chapter fourteen

Chapter #15 - Did I Tell You? | word count: 13.7k | read → chapter fifteen

Chapter #16 - The Stranger | word count: 14.1k | read → chapter sixteen

Chapter #17 - Love of Your Life | word count: 13.3k | read → chapter seventeen

Chapter #18 - By My Side | word count: 14.7k | read → chapter eighteen

Chapter #19 - Home [END] | word count: 18.2k | read → chapter nineteen

Chapter #20 - My Heart's Home [Epilogue + Q&A] | word count: TBA | read → chapter twenty

Please let me know if you're excited for this??? I'm still writing it, and honestly... I love it! But it's tough to write such a long series without any feedback or knowledge whether it's good or sucks... so.. yeah....

#jimin x reader #jimin fic #jimin smut #jimin imagine #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fic #jimin x you #park jimin imagine #park jimin x you #park jimin x reader #park jimin smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fic #park jimin #jimin fanfiction #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin fanfic #bts jimin fanfic #my heart's home series #bts #jimin scenario #bangtan x you #pjm x you

[guqwrvte]

⨽ title: cherry balm

⨽ summary: you start using a new lip balm and jimin loves the taste.

⨽ pairing: jimin x reader

⨽ genre: fluff, established relationship

⨽ warnings: kissing

⨽ word count: 891

⨽ a/n: if you cringe towards the end forgive me. writing kissing scenes is a struggle for me lol.

There was a soft smile on Jimin's face as he watched you move around his kitchen. 

"Where do you keep your big bowls again?" You asked as you closed another cupboard. 

"In the bottom cupboard to your left," he said, and you hummed in response before opening it and taking out a bowl. 

He loved days like this. Days where'd you decide to come to his place and spend the night. 

"What're you making?" he asked as you began to set the ingredients on the counter. 

"Chocolate chip cookies," you told him. "I don't think I've made them for you before."

"You haven't," he said, getting up from the bar stool and making his way to the island. "Do you want me to help with anything?"

"Remember what happened the last time you lent me a hand?" You asked, pouring flour into a measuring cup. 

The last time you were here, you made cupcakes. 

What started off as playfully putting flour on each other's noses and cheeks turned into you being covered in flour. 

"I don't want to clean up a mess like that again..." he chuckled. "I promise this time I'm going to behave."

"I'll let you help me put them into trays," you smiled, causing him to playfully pout. 

"Please?" He asked, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

"I won't be able to move properly like this, Jimin," you huffed, trying to get the man off you. "I said you can help me put them in the trays. I'll even let you try the batter."

He only hummed in response before burying his head in the crook of your neck. 

One thing Jimin loved about you was your love for vanilla. It was your favourite scent and flavour. 

The majority of the baked goods you made were vanilla, and almost everything you used smelled like vanilla. You shampoo, your body wash, your perfumes, everything. 

Jimin's favourite was your lip balm. God, how he loved the Oh So Heavenly vanilla lip balm you used. 

"Do you want a chocolate chip?" You asked, popping one into your mouth and humming at the taste. 

Jimin lifted his head and nodded, opening his mouth and saying: "Ah."

You smiled before popping two into his mouth. "You know you could learn to make these if you just focused on what I was doing. So you don't always have to wait for me to come over for you to have something baked."

"Even if I learnt... I don't think they'd taste as good as yours," he sighed, letting go of you. 

"You'll be using the same recipe, so they'd definitely taste like mine," you said. "Here, you can taste the batter and tell me how it is."

You handed Jimin a teaspoon of the batter. "Please tell me if it's too sweet."

When Jimin put the teaspoon in his mouth, his eyes widened at the taste. "If this is how the batter tastes like this, I can't wait for the cookies."

"Is it too sweet or not?" You asked, taking the spoon and tossing it in the sink. 

"It tastes just fine to me," he smiled, giving you a quick kiss. 

"Don't kiss me when you have batter on your lips," you whined, licking your lips. 

"I can't see my lips," he chuckled, licking his lips to get the batter off. 

Jimin's face turned in confusion as he licked his lips again. 

Something was different, and he couldn't put his finger on it. 

"It's off," you told him, walking to the oven to get the tray. 

"Baby," he said, and you hummed. "Can you kiss me again?"

"In the kitchen?" you asked with a frown, placing the tray on the counter. 

"Relax," Jimin told you, knowing how you felt about being intimate in the kitchen. You were okay with hugs and pecks but nothing more. "I'm just asking for a kiss. Nothing more."

"Fine," you huffed before walking to him and kissing him again. 

Jimin's hands made their way around your waist and pulled you closer when your lips landed on his again. 

They were still sweet with the taste of chocolate from the chocolate chip batter. But instead of your sweet bubble balm, he could faintly taste something new. He wasn't sure what flavour this was he loved it. 

Jimin suddenly lifted you up onto the counter, causing you to gasp. With your lips parted, he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. 

He stood between your legs, a hand in your hair as you continued to kiss him. 

"You changed your lip balm," he breathed when you eventually pulled away, your bodies still close. 

"Yeah," you whispered, catching your breath. "I couldn't find another vanilla bubble balm, so I had to get something else. Does it taste weird?"

"Not at all," he told you. "What flavour is it?"

You unconsciously licked your bottom lip. "I think it's cherry."

"Cherry?" he asked, lips brushing against yours, and you hummed in response. "Keep using it for a while."

And his lips were pressed against yours again. He wasn't sure if it was because he was different compared to what he was used to, but the taste of your lips was almost intoxicating. 

He couldn't think about anything other than how he really hoped you'd use this cherry balm for a while. 

#park jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin scenarios #jimin drabble #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #jimin fluff #park jimin drabble #bts jimn #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts drabble #park jimin fluff #park jimin fanfic #bts scenarios #park jimin fic #jimin #jimin smut

[minologistt]

they're clingy | BTS reaction a series

genre established relationship , reactions

warnings very fluffy, misunderstanding but its silly (namjoon)

M.LIST

A/N: BTS 10 ANNIVERSARY!!! i think having these short little reaction things is good for putting my ideas out to eventually turn them into a full story, you know?

_____________________________________________________________

KIM SEOKJIN

the dozens of isle lining the super market were sending you and your boyfriend into a panic. you both were looking for a very specific spice but going through many of the isle proved fruitless. a sigh escaped your lips as you tried shrugging off your boyfriend for the umpteenth time since you've entered the store.

"jin please let go of mee, you're weighing me downn," you whined as he shook his head in refusal. "no way, don't you love me? if you do then you can manage!" a wide grin was displayed on his face as you continued to push the cart. "i love you but that love doesn't mean to hug me while i'm pushing a heavy shopping cart," you stopped the cart and pushed him away slightly only to be met with a pouty face. "don't pout babe, you're just really heavy and it's really hot right now okay?" but no response was given as he turned his back to you.

after another 30 minutes of looking for the spice, you finally found it and checked out. on your way to the car was silent, even as you and your boyfriend unpacked everything. "jinnie.. babe, are you mad at me?" you finally broke the silence once your boyfriend started up the car. however your question was met with a dramatic huff.

"i'm sorry babe, how can i make you feel better?" you put your hand on his shoulder and rubbed him slightly. "maybe you can let me finally have a bubble bath with you.." he mumbled under his breath like it was embarrassing to even think about. "of course you can! anything for you, baby," you said removing your hand, only to feel his hand land on your thigh. "good because i bought purple bubble bath soap a week ago-", now your boyfriend was back to his usual self, rambling about the most random things.

MIN YOONGI

it was silent inside of the studio. yoongi sitting at his desk in his swivel chair with you on his lap. he had an arm around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. "how does this beat sound with these vocals?" he looked at your side profile from the side of his eye. you looked up from your phone and blinked a couple of times as the track played for a short minute. "it's okay, maybe it should be a bit softer?", yoongi nodded his head and began tweaking the audio.

you began shifting around on yoongi's lap as you were scrolling through your instagram. yoongi placed a firm hand on your hip to stop you from wiggling around. a slight smirk was tugging at his lips as he blew a small gush of air behind your ear. you cringed away from his face and tried getting up, however yoongi tightened his hold on your hip and pulled you back down. "where are you going?", he turned his full attention to you while you stared back with a confused expression. "i just wanted to stretch my legs and get something to eat-"

"we can stretch together, i need to stretch too.. been sitting here for a while." yoongi rubbed his chin like he was in deep thought. "since when have you minded sitting for long periods of time?" a small smile appeared on your face as yoongi's ears began turning red. "namjoon told me i should start stretching more.. its good for my body since i'm getting older-"

"you never listen to half of namjoon's advice.. actually, sure yoongs" you giggled a bit as you pried his hands from your waist. "well i'm hungry, do you want something to eat too-" "actually i'll go with you, you might not know what i want or what if i change my mind while you're gone." yoongi stood up and threw his arm over you shoulder and walked you both towards the studio door.

KIM NAMJOON

a yawn left your mouth as you continued your cooking in the large kitchen. namjoon creeps up on you, wraps his arms around your waist and, leans his head into the crook of your neck. he then began peppering kisses all over your neck and shoulders. "my big baby has finally woken up huh? took you long enough." namjoon nuzzles your cheek to get your attention as he groans in response. "what is it joonie?" you move to another counter to get some flour. he lets out another loud groan instead of responding with words.

you decide that you want to tease him a bit so you shimmy out of his grasp. namjoon finally opens his eyes and blinks a couple of times before fully processing that you have moved out of his grasp. "did i do something..?" namjoon questioned with genuine concern lacing his voice as he followed you around the kitchen whilst you finished up the breakfast. "hm? what are you talking about, joonie?" you responded as you turned to move around his large frame to plate the breakfast.

"i'm sorry, did i do something babe?" namjoon repeated this time he came forwards and fiddled with his hands. "did you not want to hug today or..?", at this point, you were starting to feel bad about trying to tease him, "aw baby you did nothing wrong.. i was just screwing around with you!" you quickly shuffled over to him and hugged him tightly. namjoon was still a bit confused but he still wrapped his arms around you as well with a smile.

JUNG HOSEOK

you're sitting on the couch watching a movie and eating popcorn, you were originally taking a nap with your boyfriend but you woke up earlier than he did. the movie was a thriller movie, you enjoyed watching these types of movies however your boyfriend, hoseok, didn't. he was very jumpy and fearful whenever the slightest thing happened, whether it was an actual jump scare or not.

you were so invested in the movie that you didn't hear your boyfriend calling for you or even see him when he stepped into the living room. "oh god.. there you are baby! i thought you got kidnapped or something!" he loudly stated as your gaze shifted from the large screen and onto his lanky frame. a frown rest upon his face and it was evident that he had literally just got out of bed. "what are you watching? why didn't you wake me up when you woke up?" he started rambling multiple questions as he made his way over to the couch.

rather than sitting a good distance away. he hopped onto the couch and dragged you to lay on his chest. the popcorn you once held had fallen to the floor and made a mess. "i'm watching a thriller movie babe and look at the mess you just caused.." you frowned looking down at the floor but your boyfriend shrugged and looked towards the screen. "thriller? why not a comedy or something!" he began to complain until you simply replied, "I've been wanting to watch this movie though but you hate anything scary!" now you were complaining as well but he shook his head and kissed your forehead. "i'll just watch it with you even if it is a bit scary..", you felt him shudder but either way, a smile spread across your face as you and hoseok began laughing like maniacs.

PARK JIMIN

"baaabe, come on", jimin whined in a higher pitched voice as he leaned his full body weight on you. "what is it now chimchim?", you respond as you continue reading your book as if he wasn't there. jimin let out an exaggerated sigh let his lips. "can you at least look at me? i've been away on my work-cation for a while now.. give me some attention pleaseee". you looked at him from the corner of your eye and gave him a soft smile.

"actually we have been on work-cation for a while" a pout formed on his lips as he unwrapped himself from you. "fine.. i'll go find something to do-" he got up and walked towards the door of the hotel room, that you both were staying in, he then let out another exaggerated sigh. "-by myself.." you closed your book and smiled fondly at jimin acting all pouty. "i never said to leave, come back baby" you opened your arms to welcome him back to you.

jimin quickly rushed back into your arms without a word and began to kiss you all over your face. "i knew you couldn't resist my charms!" he smiled while nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "yeeeah sure, your sooo charming", you stated sarcastically with a giggle. "hey! i am charming, you can't lie-", you then began stroking his hair while he went on a rant about how charming he truly is.

KIM TAEHYUNG

jazz music was playing in the background as you and your boyfriend danced around in dim lighting. tae pulls you in closer the longer you both danced. "okayy tae, can we take a break now? my feet are on fire!" you whined as you tried to break free from his grasp. "okay? we can take a break together, where are we going?" he loosened his grip and stared down at you with hopeful eyes.

"well i was going to go to the bathroom.. by myself of course" you moved away from tae's embrace and held his hand instead. "what.. why can't i come with you? i can sit in the corner or sit in the shower or-"

"taehyung.. that's genuinely weird, but you can wait outside of the door." you say as you begin walking away towards the bathroom. "do you promise to come back soon? i want us to watch a jazz performance together!" tae shouts as he watches the bathroom door shut slowly. "of course i will babe, just give me five minutes" the door shut and tae sits himself directly in front of the door as he starts telling you random facts that he and jungkook had come up with earlier that day.

JEON JUNGKOOK

faint sounds of guns and grenades are going off from the gaming headphones that your boyfriend has on. you were seated upon his lap whilst he was sitting in his gaming chair. "dude, 12 o'clock! no, fuck i mean behind you!" he began screaming at the screen for the umpteenth time. you were fighting back another yawn as you eyed your shared bed from across the room.

you tried to get up and out of his grasp but he tightened his hold on you and grunted. "babe, can you let me go please? i'm super sleepy.." a whine escaped your lips as he didn't budge. "you can sleep right here just fine.." was all he said before yelling back into the mic. "i'm talking to my love, not you guys!" your boyfriend's face began heating up as he muted his mic out of embarrassment. "baby pleasee, i'm fighting this sleep so hard right now you don't understand", you buried your head in the crook of his neck.

jungkook huffed as he pouted. "fine..", he finally gave in as he let you go. you made your way over to the bed and flopped onto it and shut your eyes. you found it a bit odd as the room became silent, no sounds of clicking, your boyfriend's screaming and not even the sounds coming from the loud headphones. suddenly you felt the bed sink down beside you, but you didn't need to roll over or open your eyes to know it was your pouty boyfriend. "you didn't have to stop gaming to come lay with me..", you yawned as he wrapped his arms around you and threw a leg over you too. "I'd rather sleep with you than game with them, i need a nap anyway..", soon after that statement, you both went to sleep.

 minologistt | do not copy, translate or edit this.

#bts fanfction #yoongi fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #park jimin fanfic #hobi fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #namjoon fanfic #jin fanfic #jin fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader

[astayinwonderland]

Plz can you write a jimin smut fanfic play boy au

"What is it about Park Jimin?" | Park Jimin

pairing: jimin x f.reader (guest appearance jk... but through text)

genre: smut MDNI

requested by: @jimincrystal

wc: 1.6k

summary: you have a problem... your neighbour jimin is too loud, but you are terribly attracted to him

warnings: pet names (jimin calls reader "pretty girl"), mentions of jimin being into girls and boys, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (don't pls), cursing... lmk if I forgot anything.

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“Hi,” his full lips curve into the flirtiest of smiles. 

“Oh, hi,” your tiny voice answers. Dammit, what was it about him anyway? 

He leans on the wall as you try not to look nervous. But who are we kidding? When you moved into this flat two months ago, all you could do was think about your next-door neighbour. It was hard not to, he often had “visitors” to entertain him, especially at night. You could hear through the very thin walls how much fun they would have. The exquisite moans he would get from the gorgeous girls and boys who were lucky enough to spend a night with him. 

You, on the other hand, are too embarrassed to look him in the eye. Not after hearing everything that happens on the other side of that wall. Not after reaching for your vibrator multiple times… 

“I think it’s about time I introduced myself,” he extends his hand and for the first time since he started talking, you look up. 

Ashy blonde hair frames his beautiful complexion. Brown eyes, staring right into yours, and his smile so beautiful, so inviting, it made your knees tremble. Before your knees gave in, you shook his hand. 

“I’m Jimin.” 

“Nice to meet you. I’m–” 

“I know, the prettiest girl in the building,” he kisses the back of your hand after whispering your name which makes you hot with wanton. 

Jimin knows perfectly the effect he has on people, but seeing the effect he has on you is different. The way your breath seems now heavier, your lips parted in shock, and oh your smell is so deliciously intoxicating. He can’t wait to have you. 

“See you around, pretty girl,” he walks to his door and you can’t even think straight. 

Nighttime comes and you find yourself eating a bowl of cereal and rewatching your favourite show. All of a sudden, you hear a loud thud on the wall, which immediately breaks your concentration. You pause the show and of course, you already know what it is. 

“Fuck! Just like that! Yes, yes!” you hear the muffled cries on the other side of the wall. When is this going to end? Should you say something? 

You pace back and forth in front of your door, trying to make a decision and in your two seconds of braveness, you gather the courage to walk next door. Your hand is about to knock when the door opens. 

“Oh!” the gorgeous girl exclaims. Beautiful dark skin, hazel eyes, and long legs. “See you around, Jimin.” She walks past you. 

Jimin waves goodbye and his eyes land on you. Flower-pattern pyjamas, fuzzy slippers, messy hair. 

“Is something wrong, pretty?” 

“I– you should try to keep it down…” you try not to look at his bare chest and his tattoo on display. Oh, the way you would lick–

“So you can hear through the wall,” he sounds surprised as if he couldn’t believe his plan worked. 

“Yes, and please… next time I would appreciate it if you, and your visitors, were a little bit less– you know,” 

“What if you are next? Would you keep it down?” 

“Excuse me?” 

He laughs, and you can tell he is enjoying this. 

“Good night, pretty. I love your pyjamas by the way,” he winks at you and closes the door. 

After a couple of days without seeing, or hearing, Jimin, you start to wonder if showing up like that outside his door was too much. You don’t want to overthink, but for you, it is important to have at least a decent relationship with your neighbours. 

It isn’t until after work that day that you come back to your flat and find a note on your door. 

I have no right, but I need a favour. Dinner at 8? I’ll bring everything. Btw, you’re gorgeous. 

Can't wait, 

Jimin x 

Fuck. 

You thought about not welcoming Jimin, after all, he is a stranger. But something about him just made you want to open yourself to him. Yes, you wanted him, so when he knocked on your door, you were already dolled up. You looked effortlessly put together. When Jimin came in and took a look at you, he scanned you up and down. 

“I knew it, the prettiest girl in the building… prettiest girl in the world,” he brought food and wine for both of you. It smelled really good and tasted even better. 

“So what is this about?” 

“First of all, thank you. My friend is visiting, so we’ve been going around the city these last few days– and now he met this girl… and you know, he wanted to invite her over before he leaves,” he laughs, sipping his wine. 

“Oh… I see,” you look down, trying to mask the awkwardness. 

“Also, I wanted to apologise for the— noise.” 

“It’s okay, apology accepted,” you smile. Jimin is way more friendly than you thought. He is easy to talk to, funny, and interesting. You can see why he has so many people fall for his charms. 

And then you both hear it– moaning so loud you could think there was some adult movie being filmed next door. It was intense, the skin slapping, muffled but clear enough to know what it was. 

Jimin turns to look at you, and he can’t help but laugh. 

“Oh pretty girl, this is what you were talking about–” 

“Oh no, this is worse,” you cover your ears but end up laughing at Jimin’s expression. 

“What, do you think they could hear us from this side?” 

Your eyes widen and you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but now that the wine is in your system, you want Jimin even more. 

“I think so,” once again your tiny voice comes out. 

“Let me kiss you,” Jimin leans in and waits, so you pull him in. 

His lips are soft as you expect them to be, but his tongue is the root of all sin. It tastes so good against yours, teasing and sucking your bottom lip. He is hooked on the way you kiss him back, creating a dependence on the little moans you give him, enjoying every little second of such a passionate kiss. Your hands go to the back of his neck, lips locking with each other again and again, causing your arousal to start pooling between your legs. Fuck, what is it about Park Jimin? 

The moans can still be heard next door, but you don’t mind anymore as pieces of clothing are forgotten on the floor. 

“Shit– you’re fucking gorgeous, look at these tits,” he sucks and kisses your nipples, worshipping them as his fingers gather your arousal. 

His tongue circles your hard nipple as one of his fingers slides into you. You let out a long, pleading moan. You wanted this, for so fucking long you wanted him. The way your back is arched gives him better access to you. So now you are under his control, he fucked you with his finger as his precum leaked off his cock. What a fucking sight. 

Another finger goes in, and in your desperate state to cum, you reach to your clit and start playing with it just like you like it. 

“Is that how you played with yourself while eavesdropping on what was going on next door, pretty?” he asks, but you can’t answer. You are too lost in this raw, filterless feeling of sheer pleasure. 

Jimin slides his fingers out of you, making you cry in disbelief, you were so close. 

“I wanna have you right there, against the wall.” 

So with your hands against the wall and your back bent forward, he holds to your hips and aligns with your entrance. His cock thick and veiny enters you with ease. His hips snap into yours, and he pulls your head up by your hair. 

“Tell me pretty, how good does it feel?” 

“So–so… aaahhh, so good,” you cry, you moan. His cock is deep inside you, hitting just the right spot. It’s better than good. He has devil cock and you are sure gonna sin again and again for it. 

“You have no idea how many times I dreamt of having you like this… Every fucking time I wondered if you could hear me from here… your pussy is fucking perfect.” 

And it was in the way your warm walls hugged his cock so tightly he hoped you would beg for more after this. Jimin’s head begins to feel lighter and lighter and he can’t believe he is already about to cum. But how can he not if you are the fucking best. 

You can’t even hear how loud you’re being, all you are focused on is how deliciously Jimin stretches you out like you are meant to be fucked by him, only him. 

“Pretty girl, I am not gonna last long, you– you feel– you’re the best…” 

“Cum with me, please, please, I am so close,” and your words float in the air as Jimin fucks you just as you wanted until you are both cuming and crashing into such an intense orgasm, you see white and have to be held by him. His warm cum dripping down your legs, the sinful evidence of such a dirty but pleasurable deed. 

The moans next door have completely stopped and Jimin has already helped you to get you cleaned up. You both lie naked on your couch, his arm around you and you wonder how the fuck are you going to casually say hi to him again in the hallway. 

Jimin’s phone vibrates.

Jungkook: Shit, man. Couldn’t you let me have one night? One fucking night? 

Jimin: You were being too loud, and this girl’s is out of this world. 

You look at Jimin, exhausted, your eyes closing. 

“Should we make this a regular thing?” he asks. 

---------------------------

a/n: this took me so so sooo long-- sorry... I had the biggest writer's block with this one. Jimin makes me nervous.

also... this is pure ✨fiction✨ hope you enjoyed it!

masterlist

#kpop smut #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fic #park jimin x reader #bts jimin #jimin smut #park jimin smut #park jimin fanfic #park jimin x you #jimin x reader #jimin fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop fics #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #jimin scenarios #bangtan fanfic #astayinwonderland #namjoon smut #jin smut #yoongi smut #jhope smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #jimin x you #park jimin imagine #you ask edie shall write #bts x reader #bts x you

[oddinary4bts]

I want to be with you | pjm

☆summary : moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

☆pairing: Park Jimin x female reader

☆rating: 18+

☆genre: strangers (fan) to friends to lovers, idol!au; fluff, some slight angst, smut

☆warnings: cheating ex, mention of a parent dying, asshole jimin for a few moments, a tiny little bit of jealousy, alcohol consumption, throwing up (jimin and reader both be messy but they have other qualities I swear), explicit stuff: oral sex (female receiving), edging, fingering, badly written dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it babes), slightly dom! jimin, a little bit of spanking??, reader is shy and awkward and might give you a little bit of secondhand embarrassment, sad love confession

☆word count: 32.5k words (the funny thing is I edited to take out some stuff and ended up having a longer word count lmao)

☆a/n: Wow, I am so excited to finally share this with you. Before you read, I just want to warn you that English is not my first language, and I also have slight dyslexia. So, if there are any typos, feel free to tell me so I can edit them out! I hope you will all enjoy <3 (I have read it so many times that I hate it now but, yeahhh hopefully it doesn’t suck). Also, I usually exclusively write badass characters, and I tried to make the reader a softie sooo sorry if I failed hahahaha

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

1 month ago

               Moving days had always been excruciating to you. Long and exhausting, and you’d always dread the moment you’d have to drag all the boxes up to your new living place. Even more so today, as you were finally moving to Seoul, after months of planning the whole ordeal.

Seoul had been a dream to you, ever since you had been little. It was hard to figure out why – maybe it was the culture, or the clash South Korea was to your home country. To get out of your comfort zone and just step into a whole new world… it had been an exciting promise, really.

Or maybe home had just never really felt like home.

Yet there was something bittersweet, about Seoul. You had visited twice, in the past – the first time just on a trip, and the second when you had roamed around the city in search of a place to move to last February. Your mother had recommended this apartment, in a posh building that had seemed just a little overpriced for you. You had fallen in love with it, the moment you had seen the view from the spacious living room. You had known you had found a home for yourself as the Seoul skyline had come into view, bathed in the glow of the setting sun.

It had been a future home for you and your ex, and maybe that was really the cause of the bittersweet feeling Seoul brought to you. Indeed, you had been supposed to move here with Collin, but he had decided to stay back, and to not follow you in your dreams. You hadn’t been selfish enough to beg him to come – God knew Collin had his own dreams back home. To build a home, get married and have a plethora of children to fill the empty rooms of his home with laughter and joy.

Something you had never really wanted for yourself. So, you had parted ways, a month before you were set to leave, and you had spent that month putting everything in order, selling the stuff you couldn’t bring along. It had made you feel as if the old you was dead, and you were leaving her behind, in the cemetery that was your hometown.

Not a place you thought one would want to raise children in.

You hmphed as you balanced a large box on your hip, eyes scanning the hall of your building as you walked towards the elevator. You didn’t know what the box was filled with, and you couldn’t help but curse yourself mentally. Heavy boxes were a danger to one’s back, and you were already straining from the effort of holding onto it. But maybe that was because you had been a little greedy, adding a smaller cardboard container above that big one. The small box stood precariously on top – goddamn, had you put books in there? – and you eyed it from the corner of your eyes as you neared the elevator of the complex your new apartment was in. The smaller box started to slip, and you quickly put a hand on top of it to keep it from crashing to the ground.

You doubted it held something fragile, but you still didn’t want to risk breaking something.

Moving days were a pain in the ass indeed. Especially considering that your family hadn’t been able to travel to South Korea to help you move. It was you, all alone, and you had already done so many trips in the elevator that you knew it by heart now – from the fingerprints that someone had left behind on the inside of the door to the coffee stain on the carpet of it.

Or so you hoped it was a coffee stain.

The keys that you held in your hand under the box jingled as you reached forward, heavy box threatening to slip out of your reach, index finger pointed towards the button to call the elevator.

You sighed in relief as the sign over said elevator lit up, indicating that your little maneuver had been a success. You straightened, and a bead of sweat formed on your brow. The box really was too heavy. 

You watched the number over the elevator change as it came up from the basement, before stopping on the ground level, doors sliding open.

Sometimes, you wondered if faith existed. If there was a bigger plan to the universe, something written for you already that you couldn’t really escape from. It was the thought that crossed your mind as the doors finished moving, and a dark-haired boy – man – stared at you as you just stood there, mouth falling open.

See, there were a few things you liked about Korea. K-pop being one of those. And you had been a BTS fan for a long time now, part of the army that was their fanbase, and maybe that had contributed to your will to move to Seoul.

Actually, you fully knew it was one of the reasons.

But, nothing had prepared you for this moment. The moment an idol appeared in front of you, as if conjured by your deepest most secret desires. An angel, standing in the elevator, black hood on along with a matching mask.

It was the eyes though, that you recognized. You had spent so many hours looking at pictures of those eyes – really, you had never seen eyes such as his. And that gaze was now boring into yours, as if peering right to your soul, and you found you couldn’t quite move.

And who were you to blame, Park Jimin had always been your bias. Had been the reason why you had gotten into K-pop in the first place.

Jimin’s eyes skimmed over your figure for a moment, gaze landing on your keys.

On the goddamn Chimmy keychain that dangled from your hand, bright yellow that could have caught anyone’s eyes.

When his gaze moved back up to your face, you gulped, feeling very naked. Not that you were naked at all, but to have your bias standing in front of you like that… it rendered you completely unable to process what was happening.

“Are you getting in?” he asked in English, and there was a strain to his voice. As if it was threatening to fall into annoyance, but he didn’t want to let it go there just yet.

Your cheeks flushed bright red as your gaze dropped to the floor, embarrassment winning the war against your will to gaze at him until your eyes would fall out of your head.

You nodded, and you took two steps forward. Two steps were all that it took for you to step into the same elevator as Park Jimin. And it was surreal. He had always been just a picture or a video on the other side of a screen, except that one time you had gone to a concert. But right now, he was standing next to you, hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, eyes staring straight ahead. As if not even wanting to acknowledge your presence.

You stood awkwardly, arm starting to shake from the weight of the boxes. You glanced at the floor levels, and your eyes slightly widened as you noticed your floor was already lit up.

Was Park Jimin really your neighbor?

The elevator shot up, and the first acceleration had your arm straining to keep holding the box up, gravity threatening to win against your weak muscles.

You let go of the smaller container on top, using your chin to hold it in place as your other arm joined the one holding the whole thing. Your muscles sighed in relief, though you knew it would be short-lived.

You maybe should have worked out more when you were back home.

The metal jail in which you were encased was silent, apart from the humming it emitted as it moved up. And it really did feel like a jail, with the cold atmosphere that radiated from the man next to you. It was hard to ignore the harsh look on the small part of his features you could see, but you did your best not to look at him, as your prison passed all the floors until it finally reached the very top. The floor where only two apartments stood, on each side of the hallway, and really, how in hell could Park Jimin be your neighbor?

Your arms – plural this time – started shaking again as the elevator came to a halt, and it seemed like it took a small eternity before the doors slid open. Feeling the need to get away from Jimin, and from the ice you really didn’t want to acknowledge surrounding him, you quickly stepped out, moving towards your door. And maybe it was the rush in your steps, and the fact that your arms really were losing the fight against gravity, but the boxes seemed suddenly twice as heavy. Clutching to them proved to be useless, and the top container slid, wrecking the balance of the lower box at the same time.

You cursed as the two boxes fell to the carpeted floor, the cardboard of the larger one bending until a part of it ripped, revealing its precious treasure.

Your collection of BTS albums spilled from it, as if they were liquid, and your cheeks turned even darker as you immediately bent down, moving to pick them up before Jimin could see. A stupid thing to do, because he was standing right behind you, and the mess you had made took almost half of the hallway’s width.

With shaky hands, you tried putting the albums back into the box they had escaped from, but it only made it rip further. You stopped moving altogether as a pair of jeans-clothed legs stepped over the mess, and your eyes moved up, heart beating out of your chest.

Jimin didn’t once look in your direction as he moved towards his door – right in front of yours – putting in the code to unlock it. As the lock came undone, electronic whirring filling the awkward silence, he finally deigned to glance your way.

A hard look painted his features, and the judgment in his eyes slapped you across the face as your eyes met for a short moment. He seemed … somehow disgusted by you, as if the fact that you were Army made him want to get away from you as soon as he could. And you understood it, to a certain extent. He was famous after all, and he probably had had his share of crazy fans in the past.

That didn’t stop your heart from feeling as if it was being crushed in your chest, as if his fist had closed around it and he was about to rip it from your ribcage.

Jimin looked away as the lock finally finished moving, opening his door in a swift motion before stepping inside, not once looking back at you, kneeling there in the middle of the hallway.

When he disappeared from view, you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze falling back to the mess on the floor. You wondered when your vision had turned blurry, and it took you a moment to realize there were tears in your eyes.

You doubted you had ever felt as embarrassed as you were feeling right now.

You blinked the tears away, putting the albums in a neat pile before picking them up. It really did seem like gravity wanted to win the whole war, because the pile threatened to scatter to the ground again, but you managed to make it to your door without another accident. You had left it unlocked, and you pushed the door open with your shoulder, leaving the pile next to the wardrobe. You then went back into the hallway to gather the small container and the cardboard remnants of the traitorous box that had dared spill your secrets at the worst moment possible.

Well, the Chimmy keychain had been a traitor in and of itself too.

You moved into your apartment, kicking your shoes off by the door to put slippers on. You didn’t even look at the albums once, not wanting to deal with the shame that they still held and promised to be holding on to for a while. You left the small box and your keys on the island of the kitchen, which was the first room of the apartment, before tearing the broken package into smaller pieces you could fit in your recycling bin. You then moved through the space that was now yours, until you reached the living room, and the wide glass windows on the wall showed that same setting sun you had fallen in love with the first time you had come here.

You plopped yourself down on the black leather couch, sighing deeply as you ran a hand on your face, trying to shake the embarrassment away. And even if you knew it was early morning back home, you grabbed your phone, calling your mom on Facetime without an ounce of hesitation.

You looked at yourself on the phone screen for a time, as your living room filled ringing, until your mom finally picked up. From what you could see of her surroundings, she was on set.

“Hi sweetie”, the gentle voice of your mother said through the speakers of the phone. “How was moving day?”

“Mom, why did you recommend this apartment building again?” you asked, ignoring your mother’s question. “You did not tell me BTS would be my neighbors.”

Your mother didn’t reply as she moved away from the lights of the set, clearly searching for a calmer environment so you could speak privately. You glanced away from your phone, eyes once again sliding to the setting sun outside the windows.            

“I didn’t know that BTS lived in that complex”, your mother finally replied as she seemed to find a place she judged calm enough. “I just knew it had the reputation to be very safe and private, and with your dad and I being who we are, I just figured it be best for you.”

Here’s to having a famous mother and an extremely filthy rich dad.

“Park Jimin lives next door.” You put a hand over your face as your cheeks burned red. “Mom, he seemed so disgusted when he saw my merch.”

“He helped you move?”

You shook your head, hand falling back into your lap. “No, I dropped a box in front of him and all my albums came out of it. He just scowled at it before going to his place.”

The smile that had first lit up your mother’s face slowly dwindled away. If someone knew how obsessed with Park Jimin you had once been, it was her.

“Oh”, she let out. “Maybe he was just surprised.”

“No, mom, I swear.” You gulped. “He was disgusted.”

Your mother chuckled lightly. “I’m sure you’re making it seem worse than it was. Besides, you met Park Jimin!”

The last sentence was said on a giddy tone, but it didn’t reach you at all. No, it just made you feel worse.

“Mom, I didn’t even say a word to him, I was way too shy.”

“My daughter, shy?” Your mother shook her head, even though you were very much so a shy person. “Again, I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you’re saying.”

You sighed loudly, nibbling at the dry skin of your bottom lip. “Well, it was.”

 “Sarah, we need you on set”, a voice said in the distance on the other side of the line, barely even audible to you. You watched as your mother looked away from her phone, and it took a few seconds before her eyes trailed back to it.

“Listen, sweetie, I have to go. But why don’t you go introduce yourself properly to him? After all, you’re neighbors.”

“Mom what? I’m not in one of your movies, I won’t do that.”

Sarah pursed her lips, before once again glancing away from the phone. “Well then, have you finished moving already?”

You shook your head no. “I still have a few boxes to move up.”

“You should have hired a moving company to help you”, your mother said reproachfully.

“Shipping everything here was already expensive enough”, you pointed out. “It’s fine, I’m almost done.”

“Alright sweetie.” There was a silence as a soft smile slowly spread on your mother’s lips. “I can’t wait to come visit you after we wrap up this movie.”

“I can’t wait either”, you replied, and you swallowed down the lump that had threatened to form in your throat. “It’s going to be weird to live in a city where I know no one.”

“All the more reasons to go introduce yourself to Park Jimin”, your mom said teasingly, winking at you.

“Mom, no!” Though this time you did let out a small laugh.

The smile on your mother’s lips turned into a fond one. “I love you, sweetie. Take care of you.”

“Will do, mom, I love you too.”

You hung up, and your eyes trailed back to the windows. The sun had disappeared under the horizon, the light turning blue as dusk settled over the city. With a sigh, you pushed yourself up.

After all, you still had boxes to move.

***

 Present day

                The screaming of children had you wincing in pain, a headache threatening to win over your senses. Especially as the screaming melted into crying, and a teary-eyed and red-faced child stopped in front of you, tugging on your hand so you’d look down.

Your first week as an elementary school teacher had proven to be a complete disaster. At least you had just taught a few classes the whole week – as the English teacher, you didn’t have a full schedule. But goddamn couldn’t you wait until the day was over and you’d be sipping wine back home.

It had taken you a few days to finish moving in, after that embarrassing first day. And it had taken you only a few more days to realize just how much of an asshole Park Jimin was. How much of an even worse neighbor he was.

Really, he had woken you up in the middle of the night more than once with loud music, and sometimes when you got out of your own place, you had to refrain from gagging at the smell of the trash he left just outside of his door.

You had even brought it down once because you were afraid liquid would seep through the plastic bag and stain the carpet of the hallway. Of course Jimin hadn’t thanked you for it. Indeed, he usually pretended that you didn’t exist, barely even looking your way when you moved passed each other in the hallway in front of your homes. And when he did look at you, it was always with that same condescending and arrogant look on his face, as if he thought himself to be so much better than you.

A month ago, you might have said that he was, but now that you knew who he really was, you knew that he was rotten to the core.

Well, you maybe were being too harsh on him. Ignoring you didn’t really make him an asshole, but you had a hard time dealing with the loud music at night, especially considering it happened at least four times a week.

One would have thought that the walls of the complex would have been sound-proofed better than they actually were, but no, when he had his music on it pretty much felt as if you were standing right in the middle of his apartment.

“Teacher Y/l/n”, the child said through her sobs, and you snapped back to the present, bending down to be at a level with the child.

“What is going on?” you asked, voice as gentle as you could manage to make it through the storm of children raging around you.

The little girl mumbled something that you didn’t quite understand. Your Korean wasn’t perfect yet, and you had found that children often chewed on their syllables in a way that left you grasping for comprehension. And though you were an English teacher, you knew that most of the kids didn’t speak enough of the language to be able to talk to you. So, you always did your best with your Korean, but you knew you’d need a few weeks to adjust.

“Why don’t we go sit over there?” you said in reply, pointing to where bean bags were arranged in a circle, with a few plush toys scattered around them. “Then you can explain to me.”

You should have known better than to put all of your attention on the same kid, because by the time you had sat the little girl and handed her a teddy bear, the sound of glass breaking had you spin your head around.

A guilty round-faced boy came into view, as he looked down at the glass surrounding him. You wanted to curse loudly, but you forced yourself to smile before moving towards him.

You helped the boy to move away from the glass, as the other students looked at you curiously, all of them a little startled from the accident. It led to the room falling silent for the first time in what seemed hours, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you cleaned the mess up.

Maybe you never should have let the children have a free period, but you had felt generous as it was the last period of the week. A mistake you weren’t going to repeat.

In the relative calmness that followed the storm, you were able to have the children sit in the bean bags, along with the little girl whose sadness seemed to be long forgotten as she played with her teddy bear. You read a story to them, in English of course, until the class finally ended and their main teacher came to gather the children. The older lady would bring them back to their own class, where they’d get their school bags before their parents came to pick them up.

You were cleaning the mess left in the classroom when your colleague Chaeyoung appeared in the doorway, a tired smile on her lips.

“How was the first week?” she asked, as you straightened from where you had been kneeling on the floor, picking up the plush toys so you could put them back in the box where you had first taken them.

“The first years were a challenge to end the week with, but other than that it was great”, you replied, though your voice was filled with exhaustion.

Chaeyoung chuckled, nodding her head knowingly. “As cute as they are, they really are a challenge.”

You couldn’t agree more.

“Anyway, I was here to tell you that some of the other teachers are going to get drinks, if you want to join”, Chaeyoung said.

Thinking about going out with people you had known for just a few days made you feel even more tired inside, but you found you didn’t really have it in you to say no. After all, you had been pretty much alone for a month now, except for the week your mother had come to visit you. You needed a little socialization, especially if you wanted to make friends here.

“Sure, I’ll come”, you agreed, and the smile that lit up Chaeyoung’s face was entirely worth it.

Chaeyoung probably was the colleague that was the closest in age to you, and she also was the one who had tried making you feel the most welcomed ever since you had started working there. The friendliness with which the girl carried herself really made her easily approachable, and you knew you’d be good friends in no time.

Chaeyoung also was the only one that hadn’t acted as if the fact that your mother was a famous actress was a big deal. It had made you appreciate the girl even more.

Later that evening, after drinks, which had mostly been eating more than drinking, you found yourself in a cab on the way back home. The school for which you worked was fairly close to where you lived, but your colleagues had insisted on going to a bar that was farther away, enough for you to dread the walk home. So, getting a cab it had been, and you looked at Seoul’s streets as the car made its way towards your apartment complex.

The radio was on, volume tuned down as the driver hadn’t turned it back up after having asked you where you lived. Yet, the volume was high enough for you to recognize the BTS song that was playing, and you almost felt like rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

Though you refrained from doing so, because it didn’t sit right with you to start hating the whole group just because Jimin was an arrogant piece of shit. Instead, you bobbed along to the music, mouthing the lyrics, as your condominium finally came into view.

You paid the cab as it stopped in front of the building, thanking the driver before getting out and walking the short distance to the gate, and then to the doors proper. You walked in, the bright hall and its high ceilings a stark contrast with the darkness outside, though you barely acknowledged it as you made your way to the elevator.

Mind a little fuzzed up by the alcohol, you called for the elevator, waiting in front of the doors patiently. You grabbed your phone in the tote bag on your shoulder, opening your text messages to reply to the text Chaeyoung had sent you, before switching apps to Instagram, scrolling through it mindlessly.

It took you a few seconds to realize that the elevator was still in the basement. What was taking so long?

The basement held a parking lot, and a wide gym you had visited a couple of times so far, though you had never really been an athletic person. You had been surprised at the amount of famous people you had seen there though, but luckily enough you hadn’t run into Jimin once.

You wondered if he would have looked even more disgusted by the sight of you sweating.

Putting your phone back where you had taken it, you made to move away, deciding that you’d take the stairs instead of the elevator since it really didn’t seem like it was coming. As you were about to take the first step away, you heard it start moving, and you turned back towards it, sighing in relief. You really hadn’t felt like climbing up the nine floors.

Nothing could have really prepared you to the sight that fell upon your eyes when the doors slid open. It was almost a parallel to that first time you had seen Jimin there, though this time Jimin had an arm thrown around the shoulders of Jeong Hoseok, and he was clearly drunk out of his mind.

You stepped in, bowing to Hoseok as your eyes slid to Jimin, and to the not-so subtle stain on the front of his shirt.

From the smell of it, you were pretty sure Jimin had thrown up on himself. And really, the sour stench made you scrunch up your nose in disgust, right as Hoseok apologized for it.

“Oh”, you let out. “It’s okay.”

At the sound of your voice, Jimin opened his eyes, glassy gaze moving to find yours. You expected his features to have that same disgusted scowl he always reserved for you, but his brows fell, as if he was ashamed, or perhaps sad.

It was so human you found you had to look away.

“I didn’t know you speak Korean”, Jimin mumbled, speech definitely slurred by the alcohol.

You froze, not expecting him to talk to you directly, until your gaze slid to him again.

He was still looking at you, but his face was unreadable. Until a lazy smile broke on his lips as he turned towards Hoseok, who had his arm wrapped around Jimin’s waist to keep him up.

 “She’s the new neighbor I told you about”, Jimin said, and Hoseok glanced at you.

Jimin had talked about you?

The elevator slowed down as it reached your floor, the deceleration making Jimin stumble forward. Hoseok held onto him, and Jimin once again looked at you.

“Where is your boyfriend?”

The doors slid open as you just looked back at him, feeling completely dumbfounded. What the hell was he talking about?

You remained silent, as Hoseok tried making Jimin walk out of the elevator, but the man stayed stubbornly in place. “Wait, hyung.”

You didn’t wait, walking around Jimin and Hoseok to get out, moving towards your door as your cheeks burned red. You felt way too embarrassed to stay there. 

What boyfriend was Jimin talking about?

Jimin followed you, though he would have probably fallen right to the floor had Hoseok not been there. Yet, the two men were slower, and your pace turned even faster as you headed for your home.

“See, that’s what I said, she doesn’t speak”, Jimin continued, and he let out a bitter chuckle. “Army fucking hates us now.”

“Jimin-ah, let’s just get you to bed”, Hoseok gently said, mouthing an apology to you as you turned back to look at them.              

Why the hell would Jimin think that Army hated BTS?

“I just fucking hate this”, Jimin spat, pushing Hoseok away.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly moved towards your door, mind still not processing what was going on. Not wanting to witness Jimin in that state either. And as you were pressing in the code to unlock the door, the unmistakable sound of someone retching had you glancing back towards Hoseok and Jimin.

Jimin was folded in half, hand on the wall to keep standing as he was throwing up, right on the carpet of the hallway. The sound made you shiver, but luckily enough you weren’t one to get sick when someone else was.

No, you had always been the mom friend in the friend groups you had had back home. Except when you happened to be the one to black out, as it usually came before throwing up for you.

“I am so sorry about this”, Hoseok apologized once again, right as he stood there, seemingly not knowing what to do anymore.

Indeed, his face had gone a shade paler, and you wondered if he was about to be sick too.

“What’s wrong with him?” you asked, unable to keep the venom from seeping into your words.

No, you rather had a lot of accumulated rage against Jimin, and seeing him like that just made you even angrier. And you didn’t know what your question really was about. It almost was rhetorical – you knew he was drunk – but maybe your mind had gone to the behaviour that had been his since you had met him.

“He drank too much.”

Obviously.

You nodded slowly, nose scrunching up in disgust as the stench reached you. Jimin retched a little more, and you looked away, feeling a little dizzy yourself. You only looked back towards them once Jimin had straightened up.

He was looking at you already when your eyes met his, and you watched as a tear rolled down his cheek, one that he dried angrily before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Fuck”, he let out and your lips stretched into a thin line at the unexpected curse.

“Let’s get you home”, Hoseok said, glancing between Jimin and you. He then added, fixating his eyes on you, “I’ll come back to clean.”

“I can take care of it. Just get him in bed and make sure he drinks some water.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me, you know”, Jimin mumbled, and you weren’t quite sure if the words were directed at you or at Hoseok.

It didn’t really matter though, because Hoseok thanked you, grabbing Jimin by the wrist and pulling him to his door. He pressed in the code, thanking you once again before pulling Jimin inside.

“You know”, Jimin said as he resisted following his friend. “I don’t even know her name.”

Hoseok had a stern voice as he replied, “Jimin-ah, just get in.”

You watched as the door shut behind the two young men, and then your eyes slid to the mess Jimin had caused. You shivered in disgust, not really wanting to be the one to clean that. But you had said you would, so you got into your apartment, moving to find the cleaning supplies you’d need to wash it all, and to make sure it didn’t stain the carpet.

What the hell was wrong with Park Jimin?

You walked back out, aiming for the puddle of vomit that was slowly seeping into the carpet. The smell was enough to make you gag, as you put on gloves and started picking up as much as you could to put it in the plastic bag.

It wasn’t so different than cleaning up after a kid had retched, and you did everything in you not to think about the fact that Park Jimin had been the source of that mess. That you had seen him at a low point, and that he, for one, hadn’t seemed to hate you.

No, he had just looked terribly sad.

Your thoughts traveled back to the words he had uttered, skimming over the fact that he had mentioned you having a boyfriend. Stopping on that fact, in all truth. Had a boy come over to her place while you were gone for him to think that? You doubted it – no stranger could have gone past the security downstairs.

What had he meant, then?

You sighed as you finished picking up most of what hadn’t yet seeped in the carpet, before moving to actually cleaning the whole thing, eyes watering a little from the small gags you weren’t able to keep in.

 Also, Jimin had mentioned Army hating them. You assumed he had meant BTS, but why the hell would he think that Army hated BTS now? Maybe it was because you had indulged into alcohol a little too, but it took a moment for your brain to formulate an answer.

The hiatus, or whatever that break could really be called. The video had come out a few weeks ago, a couple of days after you had moved in… Did Jimin really think that Army hated them for that?

You scoffed, because really he was annoying and you couldn’t help yourself. Even as you were starting to understand him, to understand the human being behind the idol, though you didn’t really know him all that much yet. One thing was for sure: understanding him didn’t justify his actions, especially considering you had never done anything to piss him off.

Unless the fact that you were Army was enough to piss him off indeed. Which came as a surprise to you, because Jimin had the reputation to be easy of approach. Clearly, people had been wrong about him, or it really was just you he hated.

It made you stop cleaning the mess, as the thought slowly formed in your head, rendering you far too sad to be cleaning.

The door to Jimin’s apartment opened, and you turned your head towards it, half-expecting Jimin to step out and be the arrogant prick you had gotten to know in the last few weeks. Instead, Hoseok stepped out, and he pressed his lips into a thin line as your eyes met.

“You really didn’t have to clean, I could have taken care of it”, he said, eyes looking over his shoulder as he shut the door behind him gently.

You sat back on your heels, glancing at the wet spot on the carpet. “It’s okay, it’s not all different from cleaning after the kids I teach to.”

Hoseok had a friendly smile playing on his lips when you looked back at him.

Looking the perfect picture of the person he projected in videos and pictures. Being exactly what you had first expected Jimin to be like.

“Well, it’s very nice of you”, he added. His gaze trailed to the plastic bag next to you. “I’ll bring that in the trash downstairs.”

The corner of your lips spread into a hesitant smile. “Thank you.”

He shrugged his shoulders, before once again glancing at Jimin’s door. “I’m sorry about him, by the way.”

You wet your lips, your eyes once again going to the mess. Or rather to what was left of it. “What’s wrong with him?” you reiterated your previous question, finding you didn’t have the courage to look at Hoseok for his reply.

Though he remained silent for a moment, and you wondered if he was debating telling you the truth. And maybe he only chose to be honest because you were currently cleaning his friend’s mess, something you really didn’t have to do after all.

“He’s been having a couple of rough weeks”, Hoseok admitted, then added quickly as if afraid you’d think Jimin was indulging a little too much, “The alcohol doesn’t really have something to do with it though.”

You found you couldn’t stop the bitter chuckle that fell from your lips. It was a small awkward sound, and you wondered if Hoseok could see you blushing.

For god’s sake, were you actually talking to Hobi?

Hoseok seemed taken aback by your chuckle, maybe not expecting it from someone Jimin had said to be Army. He buried his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet a little, as if he too was feeling a little awkward.

“I’m sorry he’s not been doing great”, you eventually chose to say, as the silence had started stretching to the point of discomfort. “I…” you trailed off, not really knowing what to add.

“Oh, he’ll get over it soon”, Hoseok said, the certainty in his voice so clear it made you want to believe it.

Yet a part of you wasn’t able to believe it at all.

“I hope so”, you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

Because perhaps normal Park Jimin wouldn’t be such a shit neighbor.

There was another silence, during which you busied yourself by finishing cleaning up, before throwing away everything in the plastic bag and tying it up. You pushed up to your feet, fully conscious that Hoseok was watching you carefully, as if expecting you to say more. And though he was a lot easier to talk to than your neighbor, you had nothing else to say about Jimin.

You exchanged an awkward look, and you scraped your throat, gaze dropping to the floor. “I… really like your new song”, you finally said. “The grunge vibe is really great.”

Hoseok was beaming once you met his gaze again. “See, I told him you didn’t hate us.”

You blushed a little. “Oh?”

“Well.” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “He mentioned you are a fan, and all.”

“He thinks I hate you?” There was genuine surprise in your voice.

“He is convinced Army in general does, yeah.”

There was another silence, one that felt quite a lot heavier.

“He is not taking that whole break thing well, is he?”

Hoseok’s face fell serious, his eyes unreadable. “He’s the one that’s taking it the hardest, let’s say.”

So, you had been right about it. And that small part of you that didn’t already dislike Jimin seemed to swell a little, pushing the negative emotions back.

“I’m sorry”, you said, unsure what you were apologizing for, and the negative emotions swerved back in.

You were sorry for what, exactly? For being Army, and the very cause of Jimin’s guilt? Or for not really feeling sorry for him at all? Because even if you knew that he was not doing great, most of you was still angered at the thought of him. At the perspective that he’d wake you up in the middle of the night again in the next few days, and that he’d look down on you like you were just a mere speck of dust.

Feeling guilty for taking a break didn’t really give him the right to be an asshole. And maybe you were a bad person for being unable to really feel bad for him, but at least you were honest to yourself about it.

Hoseok didn’t really speak to you much after that, as if sensing your discomfort. He instead wished you good night, grabbing the plastic bag from where you had left it. You didn’t move back to your apartment right away, eyes lost in a vague spot on the wall, and Hoseok’s voice had you looking towards where he was standing, waiting for the elevator to come.

“Don’t be too harsh on him”, he said. “And don’t take it personally, if he’s acting weird around you.”

Your pursed your lips. “Easier said than done.”

“I know…” Hoseok looked down at his feet, laughing lightly. “I know”, he repeated. “He’ll come around.”

“What makes you so sure of it?” you asked.

He had a knowing smile on his lips when he gazed back at you, right as the elevator dinged behind him. “Because he asked for your name until he passed out in his bed.”

 ***

               The summer air was heavy with humidity as you walked back to your apartment, grocery bags in hand. The dark clouds up ahead promised of rainfall and storm, though for now the cement of the road was completely dry, and it almost still seemed as if it was fuming with heat, creating a mirage in the distance like one would see in the desert. Cars drove slowly in the street, as if their tires were melting, sticking to the ground and keeping them from moving at their normal pace, and really, the heat felt as if it was pressing down on everyone and everything. The worst part was that it only seemed to be getting worse by the second.

You couldn’t wait for the rain to fall, releasing the atmosphere of the heaviness that clung to it. You just hoped you’d be back home by then.

You hurried, because you didn’t really want to risk being stuck in the rain, but it seemed the universe had other plans for you. The clouds opened up as you could see your condominium in the distance, showering you so thoroughly that by the time you reached the door, you were drenched from your toes to the top of your head.

Maybe you should have gone to the grocery store in the complex. But you had been avoiding it since the end of last week, afraid you’d run into Jimin.

You hadn’t seen him since Friday night. He hadn’t given any signs of life either, his apartment remaining dead silent, to your dismay. Or maybe he had just been so hungover it was taking him a few days to recover. From the state that he had been in, you wouldn’t have been surprised.

Dripping water on the marble floor of the hall, you walked towards the elevator, bowing to the security. The man bowed to you too, but he remained silent. You knew he greeted most of everyone else, but you didn’t really mind.

You were a foreigner after all.

Hoseok’s words had turned in your head, ever since he had said them, right before he had left. You didn’t really know what to make of it. Jimin had been asking for your name… Part of you didn’t want it to mean anything, because really you didn’t want to think that the Park Jimin had an interest in you, even if it was just about knowing your name. Though the other part, the smaller anxious part of you that felt sorry for him… it wanted to know if his curiosity was about more than just knowing your name. You knew it was the remnants of the fan in you speaking, but sometimes, when you didn’t really pay attention, that part of you became louder, threatening to blossom into a flower that’d throw a shadow on the resentment you wanted to keep towards him.

You didn’t even know why you wanted to hold on to that resentment. Perhaps it was just your way of protecting yourself from him, because God knew that Park Jimin was dangerous. Beautiful, yes, but the same kind of beautiful a poisonous plant was made of, luxurious with life but able to end you all the same.

The doors to the elevator slid open, and you were relieved to see that it was fully empty. You walked in, pressing on your floor before standing to the side, eyes falling to the coffee stain on the carpet. Your thoughts provided you with an image you didn’t want to picture – Jimin, bending over to throw up in that spot.

Had he been the source of the stain on the carpet, as he had been close to stain the carpet next to your apartments? You shuddered at the thought and focused on the numbers changing over the elevator door as you went up to the very last level, trying to shake the image out of your mind.

The elevator decelerated, and the doors slid open slowly. You were about to walk out when you noticed the figure standing there.

Of course Jimin had to be there when you were drenched in rain water.

You exchanged a long look, or it just felt like an eternity because you were gazing into the eyes of Park Jimin. His face held no expression whatsoever, as if he was too tired to even muster up the usual scowl he reserved for you. And really, he did look tired, dark circles under his eyes indicating that he probably hadn’t slept much in the last two days.

Or maybe the hangover was just taking its toll on him.

The moment stretched, and you found you had to look away. Your gaze dropped to the floor, and you were about to say something – what you didn’t know – when the doors started closing, and Jimin held up an arm to keep them from doing so.

“You might want to get out before I go in”, he said, and his voice was lazily arrogant, as if he wanted for it to be cocky but exhaustion kept it from reaching its attended goal.

You rolled your eyes, nodding before taking a step forward. He was standing in the middle of the way, and your whole body started burning as you realized you had stepped closer to him. You only then looked up, meeting his empty gaze. He looked as if he was clenching his jaw, and that, more than anything, made you see red.

“You might want to get out of my way”, you said, your voice colder than his had been. Not arrogant, but maybe a little condescending.

Scratch that, it had been fully condescending.

It seemed to catch him off guard, because his eyes slightly widened and he blinked once, slowly.

“So, you finally talk”, he said, and there was the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Not the kind of smirk that might make you feel warm and fluffy inside. It rather only fueled your anger.

“I talked on Friday too, but maybe you were too fucked out to realize?” Your words were coated in honey, the poisonous kind, and you wondered where you had found the courage to speak to him like that.

Especially as his arm was still outstretched, and it almost felt as if you were frozen in place, a statue of that moment before a hug.

“Oh no, I do remember.” He smirked full on, then, and it made his eyes seem cold in some way.

Cold and sad.

“Weren’t you the one to clean up after me?” he asked, tilting his head by a few degrees to the side.

“I didn’t want the hallway to smell like you did”, you said, shrugging your shoulders. “It had nothing to do with you.”

A chuckle fell from his lips. “It rather felt as if you were eager to have a role to play in my life.”

Your mouth fell open, but you had nothing to say to that.

“Is that why you moved next door too?” he asked, and he sounded so full of himself you wanted to slap him.

Unfortunately, your courage was running out, and red flushed your cheeks.

“I didn’t know you lived next door until the day I moved in”, you admitted, and your voice didn’t sound half as confident as it did a moment earlier.

That seemed to take him aback. “Your boyfriend didn’t tell you?”

There he was again with the boyfriend thing.

“What boyfriend are you talking about?” you enquired, glancing to your right as he let his arm fall.

He cocked an eyebrow, letting out a bitter chuckle. “The one I met when you visited the apartment a few months ago?”

Of all the things you had expected him to say, admitting that he had met Collin wasn’t one of those. Why had your ex never told you?

“You met Collin?”

It was a rhetorical and useless question, but your lips had formulated it before you had been able to stop it. And Jimin didn’t answer it, as if he too knew that it was rhetorical.

“He decided to stay back home”, you admitted, hating that you were giving Jimin this tiny piece of information about you. Because it made your heart ache a little at the thought that you could have been building a life for yourself back home, if you hadn’t chosen to move to the other side of the globe.

“Is that code word for saying he dumped you?”

Jimin’s voice had taken on an even icier tone, so far away from the friendliness his idol self projected whenever he was on camera. It hurt some deep part of you, that stupid tiny part that still wanted to believe he wasn’t a total prick.

“It was a mutual decision”, you muttered, looking down at the floor.

He stayed silent, right as you started blinking away tears. You would be damned if one of them slipped on your cheek when Jimin was standing right there in front of you.

“Isn’t that what we all say when we get dumped?” he asked, and surprisingly his tone held nothing of the bite it did before. He just sounded tired, in a genuine kind of way that made him seem terribly human.

It made you look up to meet his gaze, yet you remained silent. You had no words to say to that, no clever turn of phrase, because you didn’t want to lie to his face, had always hated lying, and you didn’t want to tell him he was right either. You didn’t think you’d be able to stand the vulnerability the truth held.

He already had enough power over you.

“Anyway”, he said once the silence had stretched for a few more seconds. His lips pressed in a thin line, and your eyes dropped to his mouth. “I’m sorry about Friday.”

The last thing you had expected him to do was apologize, and you just looked at him for a moment, completely baffled. And right when awkwardness filled the air, you shrugged your shoulders.

“It’s whatever, I would have done it for anyone.”

A weak attempt at trying to regain the advantage in the conversation, though it seemed to fail miserably.

He stepped aside, to finally let you pass, and you started moving, almost gulping as you felt the heaviness of his gaze on your profile. Once you had walked a few feet down the hallway, you glanced over your shoulder, that foolish part of you that wanted to believe he wasn’t all bad winning over your rationality.

He was still looking at you, and your breath caught in your throat.

“You never told me your name”, Jimin said, voice so low you would have thought he hadn’t spoken hadn’t you seen his lips move.

“Why do you want to know?” you asked.

He looked down, eyes seeming to get lost into a void, a void you could tell was haunting his mind.

“Never mind”, he said.

You felt bad, for a moment, as you watched him get into the elevator.

The foolish part of you won.

“Y/n”, you said, right as the doors started closing.

He met your gaze, eyes a little round, as if startled you had given in to him. Though he didn’t have time to speak before the doors fully shut, completely hiding him from your view.

 ***

              The week passed in a blur, and you didn’t get to see Jimin again, except once in the distance at the grocery store of the condominium. He had locked gaze with you, bowed his head a little and then he had disappeared from view, and you hadn’t really searched for him.

The fact he had acknowledged you existed didn’t have to mean anything at all.

Friday night came, and you found yourself accepting Chaeyoung’s invite to go clubbing, the young woman’s enthusiasm making you feel a little more extroverted than you usually were.

As a matter of fact, you had avoided clubs like the plague back home, but maybe that was just because your mom was famous, and people tended to recognize you too. Here, you had found that even though lots of people were aware of your mom’s existence, few were those that connected the dots between you two. So, you were willing to risk it and go out, because at 24 you had still never stepped foot in a club.

Chaeyoung came over at your place to get ready, and you were unsure why you had suggested it. Realized it probably had been a mistake once you remembered that Chaeyoung had no idea how rich you were.

Indeed, the girl’s eyes had been wide ever since you had gotten home, and she avoided touching something as if scared she’d break it.

“You can sit, you know”, you said, as you were yourself sat in front of one of the vanities in your dressing room.

Chaeyoung let out a nervous chuckle. “Why didn’t you mention you live in Nine One before?” she blurted, and you knew the question had been on the girl’s lips for a while now.

You shrugged. “It didn’t seem like it mattered all that much”, you replied. You met Chaeyoung’s eyes in the mirror. “Sorry.”

Chaeyoung laughed lightly, a pretty sound that resembled a melody of some sort. “No need to apologize, I’m just jealous.” She winked at you in the mirror, and you giggled along with her.

It was crazy that you had become friends after only two weeks of knowing each other. Before you could reply, your phone started ringing, and your gaze fell to it.

You felt as if your blood had turned to ice in your veins as you saw Collin’s name on the lit-up screen. It still had the heart emoji you had put next to it, back when you were together. Strangely enough, you hadn’t found the strength to put it away yet.

“Who’s that?” Chaeyoung enquired with a gentle voice, as if sensing your uneasiness.

There was no point in beating around the bush, so you replied, “My ex.”

Chaeyoung pursed her lips, nostrils flaring as if she was disgusted. “Ew.”

It made you laugh just a little, but you weren’t quite sure the joy of it had reached your eyes.

Why the hell would Collin be calling you? Wasn’t it the middle of the night back where you had come from?

“I… will take this”, you said, hesitant.

Chaeyoung nodded, looking away from you and the ringing device. “As long as you spill the tea after.”

You stifled a laugh, a real one this time, before grabbing your phone. You accepted the call, bringing the device to your ear as you got up to walk away, needing a little privacy for the conversation, whatever it might hold.

Collin’s tired voice on the other side of the line had your heart aching dully in your chest.

“Hey”, he said.

A simple word, but it was an echo of the word that had started your whole relationship. A small hey from the cute boy at the coffee shop, when you had just been seventeen and too young to see the danger in his eyes.

Or maybe you had been the dangerous one, with your dreams of leaving the country and never looking back.

“What’s up?” you asked, feeling slightly strange at having to speak English. You hadn’t spoken English since you had talked to your parents the weekend before.

You were adjusting to the Korean life far more than you had first thought you were.

“I…” Collin trailed off, and there was a silence that had you wonder what he might be thinking about.

That had you wonder what his next words might hold, and that had you beating yourself up for the hope that seeped into your mind.

“I have something to confess”, he finally finished, and this time he didn’t wait before continuing. “I’m dating someone new, and she… she’s giving birth right now.”

You were standing in the middle of the hallway leading to your bedroom, left foot in the middle of the air, but you froze in the middle of your step.

For one, you hadn’t known Collin was dating someone new, and for second… she was giving birth?

It was such a strange situation that your heart forgot to ache, as you put your foot down next to the other.

“What?” you said, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“We were together for a long time, so I wanted you to hear it from me.”

His words were filled with an information you couldn’t quite grasp. As if he was telling you something you already knew, but couldn’t grasp the meaning of. It was like listening to someone speaking another language. Knowing that the sounds they were sewing together had a meaning, but the meaning was just a little out of reach.

“You wanted to tell me your new girlfriend is giving birth?” you asked, and your voice was filled with laughter. The maniacal kind, the one that you usually let out when you were deeply hurt.

Yet there was no pain in you, only astonishment.

“Everything indicates that I’m the father, Y/n”, Collin admitted, with the gentlest voice, as if he was comforting a small hurt child.

It was like the world had stopped turning, only to start going backwards. Like crashing into a brick wall going eighty miles per hour, and looking at the aftermath, at the mess left behind that wasn’t quite human anymore.

It was horrifying, really. Because it meant so much, so much so that your brain didn’t want to understand. Maybe to try to preserve you from destruction, because it promised to be too grand, like the final scene of a horror movie, filled with gore and fear and despair.

“We broke up two months ago”, was what your brain could come up with.

Refusing to do the maths just yet, just trying to ease your body into the truth slowly, gently.

“I know”, Collin let out, and he sounded sad. Sad and guilty and everything in between. “It happened last October.”

Your memory was empty of all the souvenirs it had once held, as you tried to reach for what had happened in October.

“You remember when you told me that you were actually going to move to Korea?” Collin asked, and there was a strain to his voice, one you recognized all too well.

He had spoken the same way when his father had died, and you had held his sobbing form until the early hours of the morning, until he had fallen asleep from the exhaustion of his grief.

“It killed me, and I saw Harper and… it just happened”, he continued.

You let out a bitter chuckle, now, as the first emotion to rise from the hole in your chest surprisingly was anger. The kind of anger only a wounded soul could come up with.

“Just happened?” you repeated. “What, you walked in and your dick fell into her pussy?”

Harper had always been a source of conflict, in your whole relationship. She had been his childhood best friend, but she had been soon-to-be married for almost two years now, the wedding date having been pushed back twice because of the pandemic.

Clearly, your relationship hadn’t been the only one to die on the shore of your dreams to move to Korea, if Harper was now dating Collin.

Collin stayed silent and really, maybe you didn’t have anything to tell each other anymore. But the anger inside of you wasn’t quite done yet.

“That’s why you chose to stay, didn’t you?” you asked. “Because you put a baby in her belly, and she offered you what you’ve always wanted.”

Collin sniffled on the other side of the line. “I wanted that with you, you know. Until you decided to leave. What was I supposed to do, come with you?”

You full-on laughed this time, but there was no happiness behind the sound at all. Just a whole abyss you were afraid you’d fall into if you gazed at it for too long. “Yes, like we had planned. We even got an apartment together, remember?”

Collin echoed your own laugh with a chuckle, something between choking and scoffing. “That apartment was never mine, you signed the papers and didn’t even ask me to sign too.”

He was right. And for all you had known back then, not wanting to have him on the papers had been a good decision. You had been right, as if your past self had known about the chaos that was to come.

“Listen, thank you for telling me, Collin, but I have a friend that’s waiting for me and I really don’t have anything to say to you”, you said, voice coated in ice.

You hoped you could shape the ice into a dagger, and stab it into his heart.

“Y/n, I just wanted you to learn from me, I assumed…”

You hung up. Hung up on him and on the whole relationship you had shared, as if it had never mattered. And maybe that was it. Maybe he never should have mattered at all, because you were bound to part ways anyway.

He was bound to be a lesson in your life, as you had been bound to emigrate to Korea. Call it faith or whatever.

***

             Learning that your ex-boyfriend of six years and a half cheated on you proved to be quite a motivation to get plastered, even if Chaeyoung seemed concerned at first. A few shots of tequila in, the girl loosened up, and she stopped seeing the darkness in your eyes. Or so you hoped, because you didn’t want to have to face it just yet.

You wanted to surf the crescent of the wave until the last moment possible, when it pummeled into you and swallowed you whole. You weren’t quite sure you’d ever really get out of it if you allowed yourself to feel the emotions that you could glimpse at, down that black hole where your heart used to be.

So, it was in that state of mind that you partied, drinking until your mind went numb, and then some more until your body went numb too and all you could feel was the sway of the booming music in the club.

There were no thoughts in your head, just the music and the alcohol, and for now, it was all you needed. You knew you’d come to face the emotions one day, but not today.

Today you’d party and celebrate until the night ended. And you did just that, even when Chaeyoung started showing signs of exhaustion, and started mentioning going home. Even when Chaeyoung called a taxi, and you tried to down a few more shots before the car would come.

You only stopped when your friend forced you into the taxi, gave the address to the driver and told you to call her if you needed her. As much as you would have wanted for her to stay with you, Chaeyoung had her mother to take care of back home, from what she had already told you. So, you drunkenly waved at your friend from the taxi’s window, and when she disappeared out of sight, you let the darkness engulfed you.

The taxi driver did the polite thing and let you cry in peace, though the tears mostly rolled down your cheeks silently. The pain in your chest was far too grand for the kind that’d shake your body with sobs. As if all your muscles were too exhausted, and only the tears seemed to be able to well up in your eyes.

It was surprising, how little you cried. And you stopped crying, even before you got to the condominium. No, your eyes were dry as the desert as you reached home, and you didn’t even know how you managed to pay the driver before getting out and stumbling to the doors.

You didn’t know either how you managed to get to the elevator that led to your floor, the one where you had met Park Jimin. And you cursed loudly, in English, once you saw that the elevator was out.

This night couldn’t get any worse.

You dragged your feet towards the staircase, head turning so much you were afraid you’d be sick. It made you think of Jimin, who had been just like you a week ago. That made you giggle, in that silly kind of way only alcohol could muster out of someone, and you stumbled a little as you reached the door to the staircase. You pushed it open, quite a lot more forcefully than you needed to, and this time you flew, feet not touching the ground until you fell, hands coming in front of your face at the last moment.

You laughed again then, because you were way too inebriated to feel anything. You scrambled up to your feet, swaying a little more than you had before, head spinning faster and faster for each second that passed.

You started the trek up to your floor, not really feeling how your heart beat loudly from the exhaustion. No, the alcohol was numbing that too and really, you’d give anything to stay in that state of bliss that accompanied the intoxication.

You surprisingly reached the ninth floor without another incident, and you pushed open the door that led to your hallway, before stumbling towards the door of your home, hands searching your purse for your keys.

There was no chance in hell your drunk mind would remember the passcode you had to dial to get in.

With a successful little “there you go!”, you fished out your keys, right as you reached your door. You fumbled with the keys for a moment, as you tried to get them into the keyhole. It took you quite a few attempts, and it led to you giggling a little again.

It seemed the ride home had made you a lot drunker than you had been back at the club.

You finally managed to steady your hand enough to get the key in, resting your head against the door. The key seemed to get stuck, and you let out a curse under your breath, as you tried turning it in the lock.

The lock didn’t budge. However, the door did, and you stumbled forward. Your fall was cut short by hands on your shoulders, that held you up just for a moment until you found footing again.

It took you a moment to look up, mind miles away from the man standing in front of you.

“What are you doing?” Jimin asked.

You furrowed your brows. “What are you doing in my apartment?”

Jimin cocked an eyebrow. “Your apartment was on the other side of the hallway, last I checked.” He glanced over your head. “Still is.”

You shut your eyes, as everything seemed to be moving. Even Jimin’s eyes didn’t seem to be stable in his face.

“The elevator was out”, you said as an explanation. You cracked an eye open, only to see the scowl on Jimin’s face.

The one you had started to hate more and more every day, until you loathed it. So much so that just the sight of it had anger flaring up in your chest. You had no inhibition left to refrain from telling him to go fuck himself after all.

“Do you know”, you started, a hiccup interrupting your words. “Do you know how disappointing it is to meet your favourite idol and have them be a dick to you?”

Jimin remained silent, but the expression died on his face, right as he glanced down at your keys, that had somehow stayed in your hands during the whole ordeal.

You had gotten rid of the Chimmy keychain the day before you had started working at the elementary school, and it clearly didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I had always dreamed of meeting you someday. Of meeting BTS”, you continued, shutting your eyes again, willing the world to stop turning so fast around your head. “Hobi was fine but you, Park Jimin, are a fucking asshole.”

He still didn’t say anything, right as you started feeling your insides churning.

Of course you were going to be sick right after having told him your truth.

And maybe you blacked out for a moment because next thing you remembered was being huddled over a toilet, retching everything you had drunk that night – well, what you hadn’t absorbed yet. It set your throat on fire, and cold beads of sweat rolled down your temples, along with tears, those tears that always came with throwing up.

And then there was another blank space between this moment and the next, and your mind focused back in as someone was gently wiping your face with a cool cloth. You startled back, arms rising up in front of you, in a poor attempt of defense.

“What’s going on?” you asked, and tears stung at your eyes again.

“I’m just taking your make-up off”, Jimin said, hands raised to show he was not a threat. “You can finish doing it if you want.”

You started crying then, for real. It was the last thing you remembered that night, and everything went black.

***

                 You had never thought your head could possibly hurt that much. Yet it pounded with a terrible headache as you slowly woke up, body feeling all too warm for your own good. And then the dehydration hit, and you cracked an eye open, trying to find something you could drink.

There was a glass of water next to your head, on a night table, and you grabbed it, downing it as if you had been parched for years. You then rested your head back on the pillow, sighing at the soft silk of it, and you dozed off.

You couldn’t tell how much longer you had slept. Once you woke up again, the headache had lessened a bit, but it was still throbbing at your temples. You knew you’d need a full day to recover from the amount of alcohol you had ingested last night. Maybe even the whole weekend.

That thought led you to another, far more painful one. Collin and his girlfriend. And his baby, and the fact that he had cheated on you, and hid it from you for months.

You sighed, heavily and maybe a little shakily too, as your heart hurt in your chest. Somehow, the tears didn’t come though, and you managed to open your eyes.

It took a moment for your gaze to adjust to the scene surrounding you. A little eternity, even. Or maybe it just wasn’t adjusting because of the unfamiliar scene.

You blinked a few times, willing your bedroom to appear to your vision, but the dark sheets stayed the same, along with the mounted TV on the wall in front of you. You only then pushed yourself up, sitting in the bed as you scanned your surroundings.

You definitely weren’t in your bedroom. Neither were you in your apartment. There were discarded items of clothing on the floor – a black pair of jeans at the foot of the mattress, two t-shirts by the window, under the dark curtains, and enough lonely socks to form a whole army of them. It was the picture on top of the dresser whose middle drawer was pulled open that caught your gaze the most though.

All the BTS members smiled at you from their spot on the dresser, looking like a little family. It was a polaroid picture, and really it was far enough for you to wonder how you’d managed to be able to tell that those were the BTS members. Then again, you had been a fan of them for years now, and could recognize them from their shadows, so maybe being able to recognize their familiar traits in the distance wasn’t too far fetched.

Your mind went blank, as you tried to remember the events of last night. All you could remember was waving goodbye to Chaeyoung, before the taxi had driven you home.

Well, clearly it hadn’t quite driven you home, because this was not your room at all.

You looked down at yourself, and at the black sheet that was pooling around your waist. You were wearing an oversized purple sweater, one you had only seen behind the screen of your phone before.

How the fuck had you managed to get to Jimin’s bedroom? And more importantly, why were you dressed in his clothes?

You pulled the sheets off from you, sighing in relief as you noticed you were wearing joggers. Then the sudden realization that he had probably been the one to change you into those clothes had your heart stopping in your chest, and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Knowing how you were when you usually blacked out with alcohol, there wasn’t a high chance you had been the one to change your clothes.

You looked around, only then noticing the folded clothes next to the BTS picture on the dresser. You recognized the colors from the outfit you had been wearing the night before, and you got up from the bed, stepping around the mattress to get to your clothes.

You couldn’t help but take a good look at the picture, heart filling with endearment at how adorable it was. At how happy they all looked, frozen into eternity in that little square of memory. From the looks of it, the picture had been taken on a camping trip, and it made you smile a little to think that they had gone on camping trips together, without ever sharing those to the public.

You wondered how much they had done without sharing it to the public too. It was like realizing that all of them were complete human beings, and that they weren’t confined to the screen of your phone. It had been a thing to know it before, but you were now fully realizing it. They all had their own lives, with ups and downs like every other person on the surface of the planet.

It made their hiatus – it wasn’t really a break though, wasn’t it? – all the more understandable.

With one last look at the picture, you grabbed your clothes. The door of the bedroom was shut, and you contemplated getting changed right there because there was no way you’d bring Jimin’s clothes into your own home. You weren’t quite sure you wanted your life to be mixed with his in such a personal way.

Excluding the fact that you had slept in his bed, that is.

You changed out of his clothes and into your own, wincing a little at the smell of spilled alcohol on your top. It made your stomach churn, but it was completely empty, and it saved you the embarrassment of throwing up in the middle of his bedroom.

Though you had a sudden flashback of throwing up the night before. You doubted you had been at home, if you had ended up in his room after all.

Your purse laid on the dresser too, and you grabbed it, looking through its contents to make sure everything was in there. Your cards and keys were there, and so was your phone, though it was dead and had probably been for a while now.

Once you had made sure you had collected all your belongings, you walked towards the door, taking a deep sigh before reaching for the knob. You turned it gently, trying not to make any noise. Before getting out, you threw one last look at the purple sweater you had been wearing, longing for the feeling of its soft fabric on your skin. You pushed the thought away, and then tiptoed soundlessly out of the room, or as silently as your hungover self could manage.

It proved to be useless, because Jimin’s apartment was shaped like yours, and the hallway outside of his bedroom led you to the living room, where he was currently sprawled on the couch, playing some videogame.

He paused it as soon as you came into view, eyes sweeping over your figure once before meeting yours.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, and he sounded genuine.

You had no idea what you looked like, but from how you felt you knew you probably looked like hell.

“Good”, you replied, feeling awkward standing there. “Did you…” you trailed off, glancing at the couch, and at the blanket and pillow that were resting on one side of it. “You slept on the couch?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yes.”

There was a long silence as you scanned his apartment, surprised to see just how alike it was to yours. Though Jimin’s furniture was mostly darker than yours, except for the couch, which was in a lighter shade of gray. It felt like you had stepped into an alternate universe to the one you usually lived in.

“What happened last night?” you then asked, because visibly he was the only one who could answer that question, as your memories were still failing you.

He pursed his lips in an apologetic expression that had a hint of a smile in there. “You were pretty wasted.”

You nodded, pulling at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “Yeah, I mean… apart from that?”

He smiled a little then, and you watched it as if it was alien on his features. “You tried unlocking my door and when I opened you called me an asshole. And then you got sick”, he said that motioning in the general direction of the front door, “so I pulled you to the bathroom.”

As he spoke, you had tiny little flashes from last night – just images your eyes remembered they had seen, but it was a silent track, and you winced as he recalled the events of last night.

And really there had been more than you had thought. Apparently, you had thrown up for a while, then asked for food, then thrown up some more. Once you had started passing out on the couch, he had taken your make-up off, which had woken you up. You had then started crying, and told him everything about Collin, and you had fallen asleep on the couch, before he had carried you to his room. He admitted he had been the one to change you – promising he hadn’t looked though, right as his cheeks turned pink – and it made you want to disappear through the floor.

Park Jimin had seen you almost entirely naked. Most of all, Park Jimin had taken care of you when you had been so drunk you barely could pass as a human being. You didn’t know what to make of that.

“I am so sorry for all that”, you apologized when he was done, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

He laughed again then, and his lips broke into a grin. That smile sent your mind into a frenzy your hangover self couldn’t deal with.

“It’s okay”, he reassured you. “You clearly needed someone, I’m glad I could be there for you.”

His smile died down as he said the last words, and your gaze dropped to the ground, eyes following the lines in the hardwood floor.

“I’m sorry for calling you an asshole”, you added.

You saw him shrug from the corner of your eyes. “I honestly think it was well-deserved.”

That made you chuckle a little, and you looked up, though you didn’t find any reply to that. You exchanged an awkward look, until Jimin motioned towards the kitchen.

“I got hangover soup for you, if you want to eat that before heading home.”

There was an invitation behind those words. Maybe even a truce, to the hostility that you had shared ever since you’d met. And really, the Jimin in front of you right now was nothing like the one you had come to know in the last month. He rather was the idol you had admired all those years, and you didn’t know what had caused the switch. Though you weren’t stupid, and you were pretty sure your vulnerability had made him feel guilty, and maybe that was his way of apologizing. He had even admitted to being in the wrong, hadn’t he?

Perhaps that was the reason why you found yourself saying yes.

 ***

            Eating proved to help ease the throbbing in your head, as did the ibuprofen Jimin had gotten for you. He had also made you drink plenty of water, as you had conversed about the weather and your work, both avoiding the subject of last night.

You were still very much so embarrassed, and you’d rather pretend it had never happened.

Jimin made it easier, as he was being quite friendlier than you had ever seen him – in person, that is – and it healed some part of the fan in you that had been hurt repeatedly by his actions, whether you had wanted to admit it to yourself or not.

Talking to him also helped ease the pain you had felt the night before, the thought of Collin somehow infrequent when Jimin was looking at you, listening to what you had to say.

There was a shadow, in Jimin’s eyes. That no amount of smiling and laughing could chase away. Every time you’d see the cloud pass in his gaze, you’d be reminded of just how human he was. How real he was. As if you’d always seen him as some sort of god, and were just now realizing that he was just like you.

A little more famous, yes, but just like anyone else.

It was a thought that hit you in the chest, whenever you thought about it. And you had thought about it quite a couple of times since you had met Jimin that first time, but mostly in the last week or two. Ever since you had seen him so drunk he had looked like he was going to die.

Maybe he had been feeling that way too. And now, he had seen you at your lowest too, and your heart warmed a little in your chest each time you remembered that he had taken care of you. He could have easily brought you back home – it wasn’t like the walk was a long one – but he had instead taken care of you. Listened to what drunk you had had to say, and comforted you, apparently. Not that you really could recall the events of last night, but you sometimes did have flashes of his eyes holding yours, with a soft expression that made you wonder about who that Jimin was.

Because he wasn’t the same as the one you’d gotten to know ever since moving to Korea, and neither was he the one that was sitting in front of you right now, talking about things that didn’t really matter, trivial conversation aimed to fill a silence that threatened to fall into awkwardness the moment you stopped talking.

After all, it wasn’t like you were friends. Neighbors, yes, who had both seen the other at their lowest, but just neighbors, nonetheless. He made it easy, though. He made talking easy, in a way you couldn’t quite understand yet. And you weren’t quite sure you’d grasp the meaning of it someday, but you were glad for it.

God knew how awkward you could get when you were in an uncomfortable situation.

“Thank you, for last night”, you said as he walked you to his door once you were done eating.

“No problem”, he replied, flashing a grin at you.

It didn’t quite exactly reach his eyes, but you liked to tell yourself it did.

“I’ll try not doing something like that again”, you added, cheeks flushing red as your eyes dropped to the floor.

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “Really, I didn’t mind. It was great to hang out with you, even if you were drunk.”

The blush on your cheeks deepened. Park Jimin, saying it had been great to hang out with you? Surely you were just stuck in a dream. One hell of a good dream, but a dream nonetheless.

“Well, I’m probably more fun when I’m sober and…” you trailed off, as your thoughts produced their first image of Collin ever since you had started eating that hangover soup – who knew hangover soup was so good?

Jimin had a gentle smile on his lips once you met his gaze again. “We all have our lows. After you cleaning up after me last week, it was the least I could do.”

The corners of your lips itched to stretch into a smile, and your heart started racing in your chest as he glanced at your lips. “Well”, you let out, gulping.

His smile turned into a knowing smirk as his eyes fell to the ground. Who had thought you’d get a tiny taste of the flirty Park Jimin on that hangover Saturday morning? Because clearly that smirk meant nothing good.

“I’ll let you head home”, he said after a moment, eyes moving back up to your face.

You almost startled as you noticed the shadows had cleared up, and his eyes were lit up with a spark of mischief.

You nodded, glancing at the door. You didn’t move, and Jimin cocked an eyebrow, hands burrowing in the pockets of his dark sweater.

“I…” you started, then your heart stuttered in your chest so bad you thought you were going to have an anxiety attack.

You took a deep breath, right as he scanned your features curiously. And then you decided to hell with your anxiety, and you formulated the question that was on your mind.

Jimin just looked at you, unblinkingly, right as the clouds moved back in his eyes.

“I don’t think we should”, he replied, before adding quickly, “Not that you’re not fun to be around. I just… I don’t think you want to be around me right now.”

There it was. A little piece of the truth that made Jimin who he was. You took it gently, tucking it in a safe corner of your mind.

“The least I can do to repay you for last night is cook some meal for you”, you said, shrugging.

Your heart was still beating out of your chest, but now that the invitation was out there, you felt as if you were relieved of the weight that was pressing down on you, weight brought on by your embarrassment about last night.

He held your gaze for a moment, before nodding curtly. “Okay.” He wet his lips, sighing once. “I’ll think about it. If you want, we can exchange phone numbers, and I’ll let you know?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath to ease the wild beats of your heart. “My phone is dead, but…”

He had his phone in his hands before you had even said your second word. “No worries, put your number in mine.”

He unlocked it, handing the cellphone to you. Your fingers brushed as you grabbed it, and for a moment you were stuck in a cheesy movie, and you could almost hear the music starting to play in the background.

For God’s sake, just the slight touch of his fingers against yours had made fireworks blow up in your mind. You really needed to get yourself in check, if you wanted to try to be friends with him.

You put in your number, before handing his phone back to him. This time, your fingers didn’t touch, and it almost disappointed you.

That scared you to no ends. Who were you to think you were worth Park Jimin’s friendship anyway?

 ***

                 If there was one thing you hadn’t expected from giving your phone number to the Park Jimin, it was how much of a texter he was. Indeed, there hadn’t been a single day he hadn’t texted you since Saturday, sending you memes he found funny or asking you about your day.

It made your heart do somersaults in your chest each time, even as you tried to calm it down. To remind it that you were just yourself, and that he was so much more than you. That you weren’t part of the same universe, other than that of being neighbors.

Maybe you were just being pessimistic, but you had to protect your heart somehow, right?

You highly doubted it really worked though. Because when you rode the elevator together with him on Wednesday evening, Jimin blabbered on and on about something you found you couldn’t really listen to, yet your heart seemed to be in synch with every word he said.

Not only was he a texter, but he was a talker too. You didn’t mind it one bit. No, it was so much more than that cold silence he had offered you for a month.

You wondered what he had been doing, in the last few days. Because the air around him didn’t seem quite as heavy as it had been before, and though there were still shadows in his eyes, you could see the sun peeking through the clouds. Sometimes they even scattered away, as if strong winds had pulled their heaviness away from him.

It was truly beautiful to see.

“What about you?” Jimin suddenly asked.

You zoned back in, glancing at him and blinking once as the doors slid open. “Uh?” you let out.

He laughed, heartily, head throwing back like you had seen him do so many times behind the screen of your phone. The real thing didn’t compare to it – no, it was so much more, like you had just been blessed by a rare phenomenon, one you knew you’d come to cherish.

“You weren’t listening to a word I said, weren’t you?”

The duality of Park Jimin confused you deeply. How could he have gone from ice itself to that warm smiley boy?

“Sorry, I’ve had a long day”, you lied.

No, it wasn’t the long day that was playing with your mind. It rather was him that clouded your thoughts, him and the fragrance of his cologne.

You hadn’t thought someone could smell so good before you’d stood in that elevator with him on a random Wednesday evening.

He pursed his lips in a sympathetic smile as you walked out of the elevator, aiming for your respective doors. “Well, I told you I wasn’t doing much tonight, and asked about you.”

Was that an invitation, hidden behind his words?

“Oh”, you let out. “I have leftover pasta from last night, so I’m probably just going to eat that and then chill.”

He nodded, that same soft smile still adorning his lips. “Sounds yummy.”

You really didn’t know where you found the courage to say that, but you said, “I have enough for two, if you want.”

He squinted his eyes a little, as if suspicious, before nodding once. “I need to take a shower, but I can come over in fifteen minutes.”

The sentence was said like a question, and you chuckled. For what you didn’t know.

“Sure, I’ll take a shower too.”

He nodded his head, grinning a little before dialing the code to his apartment. “Then see you soon.”

It’s strange, how friendship sometimes blossoms from the least expected place. Like a flower growing out of a crack in cement, or like the first weed piercing the blanket of snow after a long winter. Your friendship with Jimin felt just like that – him having been the cement you had somehow cracked open, that night you had broken down in front of him.

Just as you had had to finally let Collin go, Jimin had walked into your life, filling a hole that had threatened to swallow you whole for a time. You had never realized just how much you had wanted to find a way to make it work with Collin, until you had learned about Harper and him and their baby. In some deep dark corner of you, you had thought Collin would follow you, someday. The realization that he wouldn’t, on that Friday night, had been like a wake-up call you had desperately needed. That, and the unexpected friendship you and Jimin shared.

After that night he came over to eat pasta, you started to hang out frequently. He even invited you to the party for the release of Hoseok’s new album, though you had had to refuse. You didn’t really do parties like that. And maybe if you and Jimin had been friends for longer than 24h, you would have said yes, but you hadn’t been.

Yet, even though you hadn’t gone, he had come over to your place after. You were lucky you only taught two afternoon classes on Friday, because otherwise you would have been completely dead the next day. But everything had gone alright, and Jimin had apologized profusely for coming over so late, and he had offered getting ice cream together as an apology.

You had done that quite a lot, at the beginning. Finding reasons to hang out again, that is. Until you had stopped asking the other, just knocking on the other’s door whenever you felt like hanging out.

Slowly but surely, Jimin weaved its way into the tapestry that was your life, so thoroughly that you couldn’t imagine it without him now. Though you both never crossed that line between friendship and more, and really you were thankful for it.

You definitely weren’t ready to get involved in a relationship anyway.

And you had been right, about him becoming a better neighbor. Indeed, as the shadows in his eyes became infrequent whenever you were around, Jimin stopped acting like he had at first, the loud music becoming a rare occurrence with you usually being present. He also kept his apartment clean and organized, saying he didn’t want you to see the filth he had lived in for a couple of months. It was endearing, in some way, though you usually helped him with the cleaning, because he always helped you with yours. And he had stopped leaving his trash outside his door, preventing the hallway from taking a sour odor you really didn’t wish to smell ever again.

One late September evening, you found yourself cuddled on Jimin’s couch, holding a pillow tight to your chest as you were watching a lame horror movie. Hoseok was sprawled on the carpet, and Jimin had mentioned another one of his friends – Sungwoon – coming over later, though you hadn’t met him yet. It was strange, as he was one of Jimin’s closest friends, but then again you rarely hung out with other people.

That was a lie. You hung out with Chaeyoung and her girlfriend plenty, but that was only because Chaeyoung found way too many excuses for you to hang out together. She had mentioned the terms “double date” more than once, and each time you had glared at your friend until she had apologized. Though clearly Chaeyoung was set on one thing and one thing only – make sure you forgot everything about Collin, and it seemed she believed getting together with Jimin would be the key to that.

Perhaps it was weird, but you had promised yourself you weren’t going to indulge into the drug that Park Jimin was. And so far you hadn’t been tempted – Jimin was just an overall really friendly person, underneath that cold persona he had sported at the beginning, and he had helped you when you were at a low point. 

One thing was for sure: you were aware of him, all the time. Because Jimin shone in every room he stepped in, and it was hard to look away from him. To ignore the heady scent of his fragrance, even as it made your body react in a way you always pushed away to the far back of your mind.

You blamed it on the fact that you were a woman and he, a man. It was bound to make you feel something once in a while. Not forgetting the fact that he was goddamn Park Jimin.

You scoffed and Jimin threw you a questioning glance. You slightly shook your head, to indicate that you were alright, before focusing back on the TV. Jimin didn’t say anything either, and you watched the movie for a while, without glancing at each other again. A rectangle of light near the floor also had you realizing that Hoseok wasn’t paying attention to the movie at all, instead scrolling on Instagram.

The music swelled, catching your attention, and the end of the movie flashed before your eyes, all the main characters dying one by one at the hand of a crazy ventriloquist doll, whose tongue got longer and longer with each person it killed. It was terrifyingly captivating, and you found you couldn’t look away, even if the movie was over all not the scary movie you had expected it’d be.

Once the credits started rolling on the screen, and the pumping of the blood in your veins finally slowed back down, you all moved towards the kitchen, in the hope that you’d find a wine bottle in the fridge. Which you did, and you were halfway through your first glass when Sungwoon arrived, and luckily enough the young man had brought refills for the coffers – beer and makgeolli.

And so you drank, alcohol flowing freely between you all. You found yourself attracted by Sungwoon’s gravity, and you stood close to him, while Jimin and Hoseok talked about their current projects at the kitchen table. In any other situation, you would have been uncomfortable – you barely even were comfortable with Hoseok, even though he was Jimin’s friend you had spent the most time with – but Sungwoon had a calm aura surrounding him, and you quite enjoyed it. Or maybe it was because Jimin was in the vicinity of you, and you always felt comfortable around him.

“So, your mom is a famous actress, right?” Sungwoon asked as he was leaning against the island in Jimin’s kitchen. One of his arms was folded on his chest, while the other held up the beer he was currently drinking, though you could see the bottle was almost empty.

You nodded, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, you probably wouldn’t have found anything to reply, but you found yourself saying, “It’s not as impressive as it seems”.

Sungwoon chuckled, and you gazed at his smile. At the plump lips that he wet with a dart of his tongue, and that glistened in the light as he spoke again. “Right. And yet you found yourself escaping to the other side of the world.”

It was said on a teasing tone, and though your thoughts threatened to diverge towards Collin, you stopped their course before they reached destination. “I’ve always wanted to get out of my comfort zone.”

“I hope it worked.” His words were accompanied by the upward curve of his lips, and your eyes dipped to them again. His mouth reminded you of another’s mouth, and you found your gaze trailing toward where Jimin and Hoseok were sitting, at the kitchen table.

Jimin caught your eyes, his expression softening into one you hadn’t really seen on his features before. Blood rushed to your cheeks, for a reason you didn’t quite know, and you resumed your attention on Sungwoon.

“Trust me, it did.” And even though Jimin wasn’t in your line of sight anymore, he had invaded your thoughts as you had spoken the truth.

Sungwoon maintained the conversation for a while longer, as you were all too aware of Jimin’s presence in the room. You liked to tell yourself that it was reciprocated, because each time you glanced at him, he was already looking. Until he and Hoseok got up from their spot at the table, making their way to Sungwoon and you.

“Do you two want to go to Taehyung’s party?” Jimin asked as he stopped next to you.

Right, he had talked to you about that party a while ago, and you had said you’d rather stay home, which Jimin had agreed to. But that was before Hoseok had decided to come hang out with you before heading to the party. It seemed the frenzy that inhabited the young man had slowly infected Jimin, because he had an expectant look in his eyes, his lips forming a small begging pout.

You chuckled, blushing, as you avoided his pleading features. “I already told you I don’t really do parties like that.”

Sungwoon let out a small teasing tsk. “Didn’t you say you like getting out of your comfort zone?”

You were about to reply that hanging out with celebrities all the time was already enough getting out of your comfort zone when Jimin gently nudged you with his elbow.

“She’ll say yes, she can’t resist me.”

His words had sounded… somewhat possessive. As if he knew you better than anyone in the world, even though your friendship was fairly new. It struck you, just how little time mattered when you developed a true relationship with someone, no matter how platonic it was.

The worst part of it all was that he was right, in some sort of way. You found it hard to say no to him, but then again you were pretty sure most of the human population would find it hard to say no to Park Jimin.

“Well, I’m getting tired”, you lied, because in truth the alcohol had woken you up more than you had thought it possible, even if you hadn’t touched the makgeolli yet.

Jimin had a devilish smirk on his lips once you finally looked back at him again. “In that case let’s just go for an hour or two and then come home.”

Hoseok and Sungwoon’s gazes moved from Jimin to you, awaiting your reply.

“You say that, and then it’ll be seven am and you’ll be begging me to stay longer.”

He snorted. “I’d never beg you for anything, you know that.”

Immediately, his features once again softened into that small pout of his, and you punched him in the shoulder. 

“Asshole.”

He massaged the spot you had hit, shrugging a little. “I’ll make you some kimchi if we go.”

It was even harder to say no when the perspective of him making you kimchi was on the table. 

“The one you made in Run BTS?”

He nodded.

“I hate you.”

“Is that code word for yes?”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile was tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe. Figure it out.”

His expression turned puzzled, and you stole a quick look towards Sungwoon and Hoseok, who both had that same puzzled expression on their features, though it was mixed with awe. What for, you didn’t know.

“I will call a cab, then,” Jimin said, the end of his sentence going a little higher, as if it was a question more than a statement.

You nodded once, and relief flooded his gaze as he pulled out his phone. Next thing you knew, you were sitting between Jimin and Sungwoon on the backseat of the cab as you were making your way to Taehyung’s party, regretting your decision just a little. Not enough to want to head home, though.

One thing you hadn’t expected about Kim Taehyung was how weirdly extroverted he was. Not quite extroverted, but ready to throw a party in the comfort of his own place at any moment whatsoever. His parties were coveted by the celebrity scene of Seoul, though not many people were usually invited. No, Taehyung still had an intimate aura surrounding him, like he was a mystery no one could really quite decipher, and so intimate parties were more his thing.

Those parties came like a cycle, once every month if they weren’t too busy, and were usually attended by the members of BTS and a couple of other artists from Hybe. He had even started inviting the members of Blackpink and his Wooga squad, though that had been before you had started attending the parties.

In all truth, you had only gone to one, and you were still uncertain if it had been real or a product of your imagination. A lucid dream, if you will.

Tonight proved to be different, though you were taken aback by the crowd in Taehyung’s living room, illuminated by only a string of red LED lights. Jazz music was playing over the speakers in one corner, and people were mingling around, no inhibition left behind.

It was a good thing no cameras were allowed in, otherwise you were pretty sure the whole Korean entertainment industry would have gone through so much drama it would have crumbled to the ground.

A champagne fountain was in the corner of the room, glasses precariously piled one on top of the others. People stayed away from it, a man in a black tux giving the drink to the partiers, in a clear attempt to avoid an accident.

You slid your gaze to Jimin once you’d taken the room in, your eyes a little wide. Sungwoon and Hoseok had already disappeared into the crowd.

“You didn’t tell me there would be so many people”, you said through gritted teeth, right as you felt your anxiety spike through the roof.

Jimin had a sheepish look on his face, and he didn’t hold your gaze, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I honestly had no idea.” He pursed his lips, before nibbling on the bottom one. “We can head home if you want.”

Perhaps it was because you had already drunk enough for your mind to be clouded with alcohol, or maybe it was the apologetic expression on Jimin’s features, but you said, “Let’s stay for an hour and then leave”.

The sheepish expression melted into a smile. “Do you want me to get you champagne?”

Before you could reply, Hoseok came back, two glasses in hands. He handed them to you, and you thanked him, bowing your head, though you weren’t quite sure you felt like drinking more than you already had. You had never been that much of a heavy drinker after all.

“Tae says he’ll play the trumpet soon”, he informed you, right as he glanced over his shoulder.

Jimin took a sip of his glass, then seemed to reconsider his decision as he threw it back and downed it in one long gulp. You handed yours to him as he looked at you. He shook his head no, motioning for you to drink up. You scrunched up your nose, because quite frankly you had never liked champagne, but you downed the glass nonetheless.

Here’s to not getting plastered.

You scrunched up your nose in disgust as your throat burned with the bubbles of the golden liquid, and Jimin let out a childish laugh that had your heart melting in your chest. You glared at him, and he winked.

“Now let’s go party.”

You were about to say no when the music turned to an upbeat tempo, and he grabbed your hand to pull you into the crowd. You held onto the champagne flute for dear life as he led you to the middle of the living room, and when he turned around and started dancing, you just stood there awkwardly.

That made Jimin giggle harder, and he hid his face behind his hand as he laughed.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

You glared at him, eyes narrowing dangerously. “You know I don’t really dance in public.”

He grabbed the glass from your hand, and your eyes widened in surprise as he disappeared. You tried watching him through the crowd, but you were too small to see over the heads of the people surrounding you.

“Where’s Jimin?” a male voice said in your ear, startling you from its proximity.

It was Sungwoon.

“I don’t know”, you admitted. “I think he went to bring our glasses back to the pyramid.”

Sungwoon glanced in that direction, nodding once. “He’s heading back this way.”

You tried to catch a glimpse of your friend, but it proved to be useless.

“Do you like to dance?” Sungwoon asked, leaning closer again to speak in your ear, and your cheeks flushed red as his warm breath hit your ear and the smell of his cologne met your nose.

Clearly Jimin wasn’t the only man in the world that smelled too damn good for your sanity.

“Not really”, you admitted, and you wringed your hands together. “Not at all, actually.”

Before Sungwoon could say anything, Jimin reappeared. “What are you two doing?” he asked, and there was a slight strain to his voice.

Sungwoon straightened, stepping away from you. “Just talking.”

Jimin nodded, tight-lipped smile adorning his lips. You chuckled at the look on his face, and he stared you up and down, a sassy fist resting on his hip.

“What’s got you laughing?” he asked.

You tilted your head to the side. You. This whole situation, the champagne and the music. “Nothing.”

Jimin clearly didn’t believe you, as he stepped closer. “Well then, why don’t you dance for me?”

It was the way he said those last two words, so innocently and yet they were coated with velvet. It made you gasp a little, mouth falling open as you tried to find a smart-ass comment to reply, but came up short.

You didn’t have to glance to the side to realize Sungwoon was gone.

“I don’t dance”, you replied, blushing.

He smirked then, his eyes taking on a darkened shade in the red lights of the room. “I’ll show you.”

And he did. He did show you, with his hands guiding your hips as he pulled you against him, your backside flush against him. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the overall sensual atmosphere that had taken over Taehyung’s apartment, but you didn’t want to move away. Wanted to press yourself further into the solid wall that was Jimin behind you.

It was wrong, yet it felt oh so right.

You moved in unison for a while, as if you had done it many times before. As if grinding on Jimin was a common occurrence to you, the girl that had never grinded on anyone before. Jimin kept speaking in your ear, tone still friendly even with the proximity, as if the dance meant nothing.

And though you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t, you found your heart didn’t really want to believe it.

“See, you’re not so bad”, Jimin encouraged you, hot breath tickling the side of your face.

You snorted, trying not to think about his hands guiding your hips. “You’re doing all the work.”

He chuckled, before spinning you around. His hands still were on your hips, but the movement had somehow put a little distance between you, enough so that you didn’t feel uncomfortable with his proximity.

Scratch that, you felt uncomfortable with how far he suddenly was.

“Give yourself some credit, Y/n”, he said with a light chuckle. “You’re a natural.”

You knew that you in fact were anything but a natural, but you still offered him a lopsided smile. He replied with a grin of his own, one that held nothing but that friendly warmth that had been inhabiting him since the night you had broken down at his place.

You wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t tried getting into his apartment, that day. You were almost convinced you wouldn’t be friends now. You liked to tell yourself he’d have warm up to you still, but there was no way to know, and it wasn’t a parallel universe you wished to live in.

“I think Tae’s going to play the trumpet now”, Jimin said, and he let go of your hips as the music stopped.

You almost wished he hadn’t, but then again it was better for your sanity that way.

“He is so random”, you mumbled and you watched Tae as he stepped on the couch, indeed holding his trumpet.

Jimin laughed, nodding eagerly. “He is. That’s why we love him.”

You glanced at Jimin then, and it endeared you, how he looked at Tae. With a small warm smile, eyes creased at the corners with the fondness they held. It struck you then – that was how he had been looking at you earlier.

With fondness, and maybe even a little surprise. As if he hadn’t expected to be looking at you like that one day.

You truly had changed, hadn’t you? From strangers to close friends... it was the most beautiful thing in life.

Taehyung started playing the trumpet, catching your attention, and you watched the show as he free-styled some jazz music – all jazz music felt free-styled to you. He stopped once in a while, to take a breath or to let out a giggle at someone’s comment or cheer, his boxy smile on display whenever he looked at the crowd of his friends.

You found yourself gazing at Jimin, too. He wasn’t looking at you, or whenever you looked he turned his head away, as if pretending he hadn’t been looking in the first place. It was cute, and so like Jimin that you found yourself giggling a little, blush creeping on your cheeks, the fifth time you almost caught him looking.

He leaned closer to you, a crease appearing between his brows. “What are you giggling about?”

You. Your thoughts had followed that train earlier, and this time they won. “About you.”

He squinted his eyes, a pout forming on his lips. “What?”

You shushed him, nodding towards Taehyung. “It’s impolite to talk during a show”, you whispered, and he glared at you, though the corners of his lips were tugging upwards.

“Sorry, sorry.”

It just made you smile wider than you already were, as your eyes trailed back to Taehyung.

Soon enough, the young man finished is little performance, in a fit of laughter that was mostly shared by his Wooga squad, as they had been the closest to him. Whatever they had been joking about seemed to be quite funny, and you felt your heart warm in your chest.

It often did, when you saw just how happy your favourite idols were, in their natural habitat. Indeed, it was quite hard to forget you had been a big BTS fan, and really, you just wished all of them would be happy.

They were, though they were humans, and they too had their up-and-downs. You knew that more than anything, now.

It was well past 2 am when you and Jimin stumbled back home, and you didn’t even have to talk about it for you to follow Jimin into his apartment. You settled on the couch, minds still buzzing with the afterglow of the revelry the night had entailed.

You often did that – sleep overs, that is. You hadn’t stepped into his room since the dreaded night though, and you usually slept on the couch. Most times he stayed with you, though you both slept at an extremity of the couch, far enough not to touch.

So you settled on your sides, cozying up in blankets Jimin had fished in his room, and you leaned your head against the couch as Jimin looked at his phone.

The glow of the screen caressed his features gently, high-lighting the red his cheeks had taken after the alcohol had fully reached his system. He was pouting a little, as he often did when he focused on something, and it took him a moment to realize you were staring at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked once his eyes finally met yours.

You almost said that you had never been more okay in your life, but it felt like it was a lie. You had been feeling like that for weeks now, all thanks to the friendship he offered you.

“I told you we’d be coming home late”, you said as you held in a yawn.

He pursed his lips, shrugging his shoulders. “You said 7 am, and it’s not even 3 am yet.”

You chuckled. “I’m surprised I enjoyed the party that much”, you admitted, face falling serious as your eyes lost their focus on him, images of the night coming back to your mind. “Taehyung is really good at throwing parties.”

“The best”, Jimin agreed. “He even got you to dance to That That.”

You laughed, and then winced. “That was embarrassing.”

He echoed your laugh with one of his own, giggling and childish and really too cute for your own good. “I have to agree that Jungkook stole the show.”

“Doesn’t he always?” you asked, sighing dramatically.

Jimin nodded, and this time you stayed silent, as he looked at his phone again. Until a mischievous smirk moved on his lips, and you only understood why when the song started playing.

He shot to his feet, holding out a hand to pull you to a stand too.

“What are you doing?” you asked, brows knitting together as you grabbed his hand carefully.

“If you dance it now, you’d be the one stealing the show.”

You barked out a laugh that was anything but lady-like as he pulled you up. “Bitch, you’re the better dancer here.”

He shrugged again. “I won’t be dancing.”

And as if he wanted to convince you that he indeed wouldn’t, he sat back on the couch, manspreading just a little too much. Which had your eyes looking down at his lap, and you would have gouged your eyeballs out for the treachery to your heart that it was.

“That’s not fair”, you said, cheeks burning. “I won’t dance for you.”

“Then say goodbye to your kimchi.” He crossed his arm on his chest, one eyebrow cocked sassily.

“I hate you”, you mumbled, right as the chorus of the song came around.

You folded though, and you danced to the choreography, missing the beat by a little. You didn’t really care, as Jimin just started laughing, and you followed him, stopping in the middle of the dance.

“Aishi, that’s embarrassing”, you whined, hiding your face in your hands.

You heard the rustle of clothes, and you froze as Jimin gently grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. He was standing close, though the only part of him that was touching you was his palms.

Until his lips pressed against yours, and your eyes widened in surprise. You took a step back, and Jimin looked at you with that same startled look on his face.

“What did you just do?” you asked, heart beating out of your chest.

He wet his lips, and his features turned apologetic. “I kissed you.”

Now, there were many moments you could point out as having shaped your life. The moment you had decided to move to Korea, that last call with Collin, the moment Jimin had opened his door to you and you had stepped into his apartment, into his life. The day you had graduated college, and before that, the day you had graduated high school. Small moments – big moments, maybe – that had formed the mosaic of your past, and shaped you into being who you were today, into being where you were today. And maybe that was it: they had been slowly forming the mosaic of this moment with Jimin, if you chose to let him in.

And just like the sun hitting the mosaic at the perfect angle, you knew you couldn’t step away.

“Do it again”, you said, breathlessly, and a hundred emotions seemed to move in Jimin’s gaze before he grabbed your face, pulling you into the kiss.

You exploded with colors, bright and warm like an early fall afternoon, and you kissed him back, your hands resting flat against his chest, feeling the quick beat of his heart under your right palm. Your left hand slid up to the nape of his neck as one of his moved to your waist, pulling you ever so closer, right as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

Park Jimin was definitely the best kiss you had ever had in your life. As if all the ones before him had been amateurs, and he was a professional in the arts of love. And maybe he was, or he just had far more experience than you did. Or perhaps it was just that you had been waiting for him all this time, and he for you.

Jimin gently bit at your bottom lip, tongue darting out to soothe the ache as a breathy sound fell from your mouth, only to be swallowed by his. It seemed to do something to him, that sound, because next thing you knew he was pulling you closer to the couch.

He sat as soon as the back of his legs hit the furniture, once again manspreading, and this time you climbed on the throne that was his lap, straddling him. You joined your lips again, sealing the deal. Because that was what it felt like – as if you were making a deal with the devil.

Jimin was too good to be true, and too good to be yours.

The thought sparked some sense in your lust-filled mind, and you pulled away, breathing heavily as your gaze met his. He looked startled, lips a little swollen by the ministration of your mouth against his. By the fact you had been kissing, lost in the moment, just a few seconds ago.

Your hands were on his shoulders, and you pushed yourself away, until you were standing and there finally was a healthy distance between you.

“I…” you breathed and your eyes fell to his mouth, before going back to his gaze. To the shadows that were now moving in front of the sun, and you wished you could take it back.

Take the last two minutes back, and forget that you had ever kissed.

“I should go home”, you muttered.

He didn’t try to stop you. Didn’t even say anything, as if he was struck dumb by what you had just done. Maybe you were too, and maybe that explained the panic that was slowly settling into your blood, into your entire being.

What had you just done?

 ***

                 It had been a few weeks, since Taehyung’s party, and whatever had happened after that. You had tried not to think about it, had pretended it had never happened… and so had Jimin. He had shown up on your doorstep the next morning, with hangover soup, and he hadn’t mentioned anything. Had only offered you a warm friendly smile as you had just stared at him for a moment, until he had joked about you looking like a fish out of water, and that had been that.

You hadn’t mentioned it once, falling back into your usual friendship, with a safe distance that felt a little wider now. Probably because at night you still somehow remembered how little distance there had been between you, on his couch, and how much of his body you had been touching. Not that you had touched a lot… it just felt like you had.

Fortunately, it was easy, to be friends with Jimin. Had been for a while now, and you would forever be thankful that it still was after the little bump in the road that you had encountered. Though you sometimes caught the shadows in his eyes, clouds that you had imagined had scattered away after you had grown closer…

They never lingered. He smiled, and they left, as his gaze turned warm with that same fondness and friendliness and overall kind light that they always held. You liked to tell yourself that you knew enough to be able to tell if it was faked, but in reality, you couldn’t really. Maybe you just wanted to believe it to be the truth.

You had shattered the mosaic of you, as you had stepped away that night, but it was hard to convince yourself that you hadn’t done the right thing. He was Park Jimin, and you were no one. No one compared to him, and compared to the people that were part of his day-to-day life. You doubted there was a universe out there where it made sense for you and him to be together like that. And really, your friendship was enough for you, and you were perfectly happy and content keeping it the way that it was. It was a different mosaic, one that held more blues and lilacs and yellows, but they formed a work of art still worth looking at, for all the missing red that it held.

October came with chill winds and bright leaves, the color of autumn creating a beautiful landscape of their own. Jimin invited you to Busan, for the concert that was long awaited by Army. He had everything arranged for you so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything, everything down to the hotel room and the food that you’d eat. You were thankful for it, even though you could have easily paid for it all. It showed just how good of a friend Jimin was. He even organized a dinner with his family and some of the members, two days after the concert, saying that he wanted his family to meet you, as you were the person he spent the most time with now.

You were excited, for the dinner. Anxious, but excited nonetheless, as you couldn’t wait to see Jimin in the most natural setting that was his. Because Seoul never really felt natural with him. It rather was surreal, painted in a light you had never thought you’d see.

Hoseok and Jin ended up being the two only members to come to the dinner, and you sat with them, as Jimin helped his mother in the kitchen even though she had insisted she didn’t need any help. His father was supposed to come later, and it was unclear if his brother would be able to make it. It didn’t dim Jimin’s joy though, and he beamed as he moved around the kitchen with his mother.

His mother had been sweet, as Jimin had introduced you to the older lady when you had arrived at his childhood home. You could see that Jimin had her smile, though it seemed the woman’s smile was rarer than her son’s. Or maybe she was just cautious around you.

It reminded you that you were a foreigner, and that there was more than just a single world between you and Jimin. Not only was he an idol, but he was Korean, and you weren’t. It was simple, but you truly didn’t belong to the same universe. And you were okay with it – you had more stories to tell each other, from your respective universes. From your respective mosaics, that met at the edges in those shades of lilac and blue and yellow. It just wasn’t made to become one mosaic. You were two individual pieces, and it was to remain like that.

Yet, you couldn’t help but gaze at him, every once in a while. Each time you caught him already looking at you, and he offered you a cute grin, the one that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. It made your heart stutter in your chest, just a little, and you cursed at it, repeatedly.

It didn’t matter that Park Jimin had kissed you, once. You were just friends, and you hated that you sometimes felt like that about him. Like what you didn’t know… you just knew that you shouldn’t be feeling anything at all. Because he was Jimin, yes, but mostly because of Collin.

You weren’t ready to dive into anything right now. Doubted you’d ever be ready, after having been broken like you had been.

“Y/n!” Hoseok called your name, and you blinked a few times, focusing on reality. On the conversation the two men had been having, though you hadn’t listened to a single word of it.

“Uh?” you let out.

Jin had a smirk on his lips. “See, I told you.”

You furrowed your brows as they exchanged a knowing look. “What are you two going on about?”

Hoseok shrugged, running a hand through his hair. His hand then landed on the table, and your eyes dipped to the painted nails that adorned his fingers, before going back to his face.

“You two are weird”, you muttered, and then blushed as you realized what you had said. Though they just laughed, and you sighed in relief.

A little tiny part of you still felt really uncomfortable around BTS. Even if you had met all the members on more than one occasion. To be fair, Jin was the one you knew the less, but it helped that Hoseok was the one you were closest to. Besides Jimin, obviously. Yet you wouldn’t even dare call Hoseok a friend. He was just an acquaintance, at best.

“Why don’t you go help Jimin?” Jin asked, and he let out one of his iconic laughs as Hoseok punched him in the shoulder.

Your eyes trailed to Jimin, and you could see he was talking with his mother. Whatever they were talking about, it looked to be way too personal for you to want to step in.

“I…” you let out.

“You’re going to make her uncomfortable”, Hoseok said, chuckling. “Leave the poor girl alone.”

“Shut it, you agree with me anyway.” Jin punctuated his words with a small wink, that left you even more confused than you already were.

“What is going on?” you asked, cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment.

“We were saying that… Ow!” Jin yelped.

Hoseok had kicked him under the table. Yet it didn’t deter Jin, just made his shit-eating grin grow wider.

“What do you think about Jimin?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as he folded his arms on his chest.

If you hadn’t already been blushing, you were pretty sure you’d have turn beet red. Scratch that – you were pretty sure your blush had deepened so much you had turned purple.

“What…” you let out. “I…” You threw a look toward the man in question, who was still very much so engaged in a conversation with his mother, unaware of what was happening just a few meters away.

“You don’t have to reply”, Hoseok told you gently, offering you salvation.

Maybe you were stupid for not accepting it. “He’s a good friend.”

Jin’s grin faded into a knowing smile. “Friend?”

You gulped under his inquisitive gaze. “Why do you want to know?” you asked with a small voice.

“Because.” He glared at Hoseok as the young man threw him a warning glance. “You two have been spending a lot of time together, haven’t you?”

You couldn’t really deny that, so you just remained silent.

“They are neighbors, of course they have”, Hoseok replied instead.

Jin chuckled, finally nodding his head. “Right. Still, they might need help over there.”

“Just go yourself”, Hoseok said, rolling his eyes before laughing. “Leave Y/n alone.”

It was sweet, how Hoseok was trying to get Jin off your back, but you did actually feel like Jimin might need some rescuing from his mother.

Indeed, even if his back was turned to you, and his moon tattoo was the only thing you could really see, you could tell he had stiffened. And maybe it was wrong for you to feel like interrupting, but you just wanted to help your friend, right?

“It’s okay, I can ask if they need any help”, you said, pushing up to your feet.

Hoseok and Jin looked at you, the latter failing at keeping the shit-eating grin in. You couldn’t help but chuckle, though it mostly was because you were embarrassed.

Embarrassed and anxious, and probably still blushing like crazy.

You walked towards the kitchen, taking a deep breath to calm down, and to also push away the thoughts that were intrusively taking over your mind.

You weren’t stupid, and you were very much so aware of what Jin had been implying. And though Jin was right, to have a doubt about you and Jimin, he also was wrong. Because you were just you, and nothing more.

“I’m serious, Jimin-ie.” His mother’s words drifted to you, as Jin and Hoseok’s voices slowly faded in the background. “You shouldn’t be dating someone like her.”

You stopped, eyes widening.

“We are not dating, eoma.” Jimin scoffed, shaking his head. “We are just friends.”

It sounded bitter, so bitter you felt your heart clenching in your chest.

“Good, then. I’m sure she is sweet, but you shouldn’t be with someone…” Jimin’s mother trailed off, as her eyes met yours over Jimin’s shoulder. Her face changed, turning from that cold stern look she had been sporting a fraction of a second ago to a warm smile that even reached her eyes, making them crinkle in that same way Jimin’s eyes crinkled.

Jimin looked over his shoulder, not quite meeting your gaze, before looking back at his mother.

“Please don’t tell me what to do with my life.”

His voice was low, barely above a whisper, really, but you had moved closer, your steps carrying you even when your heart had stopped a few meters away. You forced your face to melt into a smile, and you really hoped it reached your eyes.

“Do you need any help with the food?” you asked, as you stopped next to Jimin. You didn’t look at him, instead focusing on his mother.

The woman slightly tilted her head to the side, before glancing at the array of food on the kitchen counter. “I’ve got it covered, thank you for offering, dear.”

You nodded, finally risking a glance at Jimin. He hadn’t looked away from his mother, and his profile was set in a harsh expression, one you recognized as the one he had offered you in those first few weeks after you had moved. It was almost startling, to see it on his pretty features right now, but you didn’t shy away from it.

He was right, you were just friends. Even though a part of you hurt at the thought that his mother wouldn’t approve of you, it didn’t change the fact that you were just friends. Had become friends by a weird twist of fate, that was true, but it was nothing more than that.

Yet, to have two people questioning you about the relationship that you shared in less than five minutes… it was scary. And it threatened the peaceful friendliness that you had been sharing since that kiss. Threatening to push it off the edge of a cliff, and you weren’t quite sure the fall would be for the better.

Jimin’s jaw was clenched, a muscle ticking under his skin, and as his mother turned, you brushed your hand against the tight fist that was hanging at his side, in an attempt to calm him down. To your surprise, his fist loosened, and half a beat later he brushed your hand too.

It brought you back to that kiss, and you pulled your hand away instinctively. He only then glanced at you, and you gulped at the sight of the shadows in his eyes. He looked troubled, haunted even, and even though he wasn’t clenching his jaw anymore, his lips were pulled into a straight line.

You breathed in, shakily, and tried to offer him a reassuring smile. You weren’t quite sure you had succeeded, even as the corners of his lips slightly tugged upwards too. The shadows didn’t really leave his gaze, and you found you couldn’t hold his eyes anymore.

Maybe that made you a coward.

 ***

                 You sighed as you took in the thin mat Jimin’s mother had placed on the floor of his father’s office, for you to sleep on. You had thanked the woman profusely still, even though a part of you was angered, at the thought that she had said what she had said to Jimin. You had tried to let it go, had tried to let go what Jin had said too, but some part of you had been struggling, grasping onto the last thread of the conversation, refusing to let it fall into silence.

Perhaps it was because Jimin’s attitude had changed, after that. He hadn’t quite smiled as he usually did, had barely joked around with his family and friends. He had instead brooded in a corner, and even Hoseok and Jin hadn’t been able to shake him out of the dark state of mind that had taken over him.

You felt guilty. Though you hadn’t quite been the culprit, hadn’t you? Except for that night when you had kissed him and imagined you could share something more than friendship…

You had been fools, the two of you.

“Y/n”, Jimin said from the doorway, and you spun around, slightly startled.

He was beautiful, in the simple pajamas he had brought for the trip. He still was wearing his earrings, and they dangled from his ears as he leaned against the doorframe, hands in the pocket of his pants.

“Hey”, you let out, eyes shying from his, falling to the floor.

An awkward silence moved around you, filling the already warm room with an uncomfortable heat that pressed down on you.

“I have to apologize”, Jimin murmured, and your eyes shot to his face.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“For thinking that this dinner was a good idea.”

You didn’t like the way a sharp pain cut through your heart. Hated it, loathed it, and wished it had never reached your heart.

“The dinner was fine”, you said with a small voice.

Jimin chuckled, and it once again sounded bitter. “I know you heard what my mother said.” He scoffed a little then, before adding, “I know Jin-hyung also said something to you. He kept apologizing for it, when they left. He thought that was the reason why I’ve been upset.”

You were stuck in silence, even though you wanted to say something, anything, to reassure him. It felt as if the shadows in Jimin’s eyes were slowly taking over the whole place surrounding you.

“It wasn’t, if you were wondering”, he said after a moment, finally meeting your gaze again. Holding it was the hardest thing you had ever had to do.

“What’s wrong, Jimin?” you asked. Your voice was tiny, so tiny you wanted to disappear through the floor.

He clenched his jaw, lips pressing into a thin line, much like they had earlier. “We should have talked, about that night.”

You wanted to pretend you didn’t know what he was talking about, but it would have been useless.

“It didn’t mean anything”, you whispered.

He breathed in, his shoulders moving up a little, before falling back down into their previous position. A little lower, maybe.  It made him look defeated, and oh so tired.

“I know.” He shut his eyes, sighing once again. “I’m sorry it happened.”

Your heart squeezed a little more in your chest, making it hard for you to breathe. “It’s okay, Jimin, I never was angry at you. We were both just drunk.”

He nodded, slowly, eyes still closed. “Yeah.”

The silence that fell around you then was different. Colder, and you found yourself shivering despite the previous heat.

“Well”, he let out, pushing up from the doorframe, his eyelids finally fluttering open. “I’ll let you go to bed.”

He made to turn away, and you found yourself blinking back tears. “We’re good, right?”

You didn’t know why you had asked. Only knew that fear had taken a hold of you, much like it had in a parallel night to this one, when Collin had broken up with you. Maybe you were looking for reassurance, or maybe you were just afraid to face the truth.

Because it did feel like there was a finality in the way Jimin was carrying himself.

“Of course”, he said, nodding slowly once again. “Of course we are.”

“Good”, you quickly said, scanning his features, trying to get him to look at you, because you knew his eyes never lied. “I’m glad we are.”

“Me too”, he whispered.

But he hadn’t met your gaze.

He hadn’t met your gaze.

 ***

               Waking up the next morning felt wrong, as if the sun had risen in the west instead of the east. As if rain was going up instead of down, and as if the stars had gone black. It was strange, to have the grief of losing Collin hitting you that hard, so long after the events. It had been months, now, yet it was just hitting you how alone you felt.

You refused to think that it had something to do with your conversation with Jimin last night. You had just stated a simple truth, one that you had to learn to live with. But why did it feel like such a lie, then?

Maybe because it was, and the night you had kissed had changed everything. You had been a fool to believe it hadn’t affected your friendship. You were pretty sure it had ruined it, like the final scene of a movie, where the main character dies for no other purpose than shocking the watcher. It had put a finality, to you, and to a story that could have been beautiful.

You got up from the sleeping mat, feeling as if you were being crushed under the weight of your heart.

“Good morning, Y/n”, a voice said from the doorframe.

You turned around, slower than you had the night before, in that same setting. Except this time, it wasn’t Jimin, but his mother.

“Jimin wanted me to tell you that he had to go back to Seoul early, but he’s had a car come to get you.”

Really, the world was spinning off its axis now. Because the friend you had known in the last few months would have never left you behind, no matter the reason.

“Thank you for letting me know”, you said, eyes falling to a spot on the floor.

“There is some breakfast for you”, his mother said, unaware of the way your heart was breaking, “if you’d like to eat before leaving.”

Now, the perspective of eating a breakfast cooked by Jimin’s mother reassured you, somehow. Maybe because the woman’s food was outstanding, as you had been able to see for yourself the night before.

You nodded, offering the woman a small smile. “That sounds lovely.”

The older lady smiled back, before indicating that she’d be waiting in the kitchen. And that was how you found yourself sitting in front of her, over more food than you’d ever be able to eat so early in the morning, though everything looked delicious.

It was awkward, to be sitting there, when some part of you was aching at the thought of Jimin. His mother offered you a light conversation, asking questions about where you were from, and what you did for a living. Nothing really intrusive, and really, if she hadn’t told anything to Jimin last night, you would have even thought she liked you.

You weren’t stupid, though, and you could hear the disapproving silence that stretched between the woman’s sentences.

“And how did you meet Jimin?” she suddenly asked, after having sipped on her tea. “He never really told me anything other than that time you visited the condominium.”

You froze, food halfway to your mouth. “What?”

The lady smiled, letting out a small chuckle. “He mentioned you, last February. Said a pretty girl and her boyfriend were going to move in next door.”

Silence. That was all that your mind was able to produce after the lady’s revelation. It seemed to dim her light mood because her smile fell, and a worried creased appeared between her brows.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

You shook out of your trance, putting down the food in the plate in front of you. “No”, you murmured, eyes falling down a second after the food.

You hadn’t known. Jimin had never mentioned… that he had seen you, too, the day he had met Collin. You had barely ever spoken about it, Collin a foreign territory when it came to conversation between you. But he had admitted he had seen Collin, in that hallway between your apartments.

Why hadn’t he told you? How had you been so close to him, back then, without even knowing?

You doubted you’d ever be able to be close to him without knowing again. You were too… aware of him now that you had gotten to know him. Now that you knew his lips molded yours perfectly…

“He didn’t tell me”, you finally admitted, as Jimin’s mother still was looking at you pointedly.

Said a pretty girl and her boyfriend were going to move next door.

“Oh”, his mother let out. “But you have gotten close, haven’t you?”

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. You nodded, taking a deep breath to steel yourself. “We have. Couldn’t imagine my life without him now.”

Your words hung heavily, in the air between you and his mother. You wished you hadn’t spoken them, knowing that the lady disapproved of you, together. Not that you ever would be.

“He said the same thing”, his mother admitted. “I’m glad to know he has such a good friend living next door.”

Good friend. It hurt just a little more, to hear the woman calling you that, even if you had been trying to convince yourself about it for a while.

To convince yourself? Your heart stopped in your chest, only to begin again on an erratic beat, one that had you thinking you were going to die on the spot. Of course, you were developing feelings for Jimin.

You were a damn fool.

“Thank you”, you said, eyes getting lost in the space between you and her. You didn’t really know what you were thanking her for, not as the shock of the truth was still ringing through you.

Not when you for once failed at lying to yourself, like you’d been doing for so long.

It had never been about Collin. Had always been about Jimin, and the person that he was. The idol that he was. It had been about the fact that some dirty dark corner of your mind felt… inadequate, in his light. Felt like you were tainting him, with your ordinary self. He deserved someone like him, someone that shone, with purity and kindness and everything in between.

Someone whose smile could lit up the whole room. Someone who always had kind words for the people surrounding them, and who knew how to make light of any situation. Someone that was struggling with their own shadows, but never let them affect those surrounding them.

You weren’t quite sure you could be that person. Were actually quite convinced you weren’t that person at all. That, more than anything, made you realize that maybe, maybe your friendship had always been meant to end, in one way or another. And perhaps, perhaps it was better to put a stop to it before you went too far.

Why, then, did it feel like you had gone too far already?

Because, you told yourself. Because he kissed me, and I kissed him back, and he’s all I’ve been able to think about since then.

You had been wrong, for telling him that the kiss hadn’t meant anything. It had meant the whole world to you, had shown you a mosaic of you you had cherished, for those few seconds before you had shattered it. You had been the one to pull away, and to declare it to be a mistake.

Maybe, in some parallel universe, you wouldn’t have, and you’d be together now. It was a different mosaic, one you felt as if you were looking at through some tainted glass, but maybe you had made a mistake. Knowing Jimin, he had probably decided not to mention anything to respect your decision.

To not make you feel more uncomfortable than he had clearly believed you had been. It was stupid, really, because you hadn’t been uncomfortable, kissing him.

You had felt like you were coming home after a long day of work, to the coziness of the arms of the person you were meant to love.

A pretty girl and her boyfriend.

***

              Three raps, on his door.

Knock knock knock.

You had gone straight to his place, after coming home from Busan. It had been strange, to ride that car alone without him, especially as he had been the one to drive you to the city where he had grown up. He had been all you had been able to think about, for the hours between the two cities.

You were anxious, standing there in front of his place. Like you didn’t belong there, even if you had been in that exact spot many times before. It brought you back to that first time you had been there, struggling to get in thinking that it was your own home.

It took you a long time, standing there, to realize that he wasn’t going to open. So long your eyes fell down to the floor, and trailed to the place where you had cleaned his vomit, months ago.

A whole world ago.

You wished you could go back to that moment. Well, not exactly to the moment you’d been cleaning up after him, but to the days that had followed. You were pretty sure that, more than anything, had been the spark of your friendship. Otherwise, you doubted Jimin would have chosen to take care of you, that night you had stumbled in his home. God knew you would have never become friends if you hadn’t.

It took you an even longer time to give up standing there. To blink away the tears that had slowly brimmed your gaze, and to head home. Accepting your defeat.

It took you a few more days, to realize Jimin was gone. Had probably not even gone back to his place once, crashing at one of his friends’ instead. You could have texted Hoseok, to ask, but you chose not to.

As you had chosen to never contact Collin again, after he had called to tell you about Harper.

In those few days, that shone with Jimin’s absence, you found the children at work to be just a little harder to deal with, just a little harder to talk to. You found that the end of your days was just a little harsher to live through, especially as you rode that elevator where you had first met him. That felt so empty now that he was gone, though that stain on the carpet hadn’t moved. As if to say the world hadn’t changed, at all.

As if to say you were the only thing that had changed in this universe. You didn’t know if it was reassuring, or if it was making you feel worse. All you knew was that your nights were haunted with images of him, even though your days were empty with his reality.

It was like he had turned into a ghost.

“You should come with us”, Chaeyoung said from the doorframe of your class, startling you out of your thoughts.

She had invited you to hang out in Hongdae, along with her girlfriend and some of her other friends, later that night. You hadn’t decided if you were going to go yet, as if doing an activity other than work felt wrong.

Some part of you knew that it was because you were afraid to not be home when Jimin was going to come. Because you were convinced he’d come back. If there was one thing you knew about him, it was that no matter what, he’d always find his way to you.

Like that first moment you had stepped in the same elevator as him, and like the many times you had run into each other after that. He was bound to come home at some point, and you didn’t want to risk being away.

But it had been a few days, and he hadn’t come home. Or if he had, you had been at work, and you had missed him. Which you refused to believe had happened, because you refused to believe he was truly gone from your life.

Yet you hadn’t been able to text him, no matter how many times you had started writing him a text. You had written enough texts you could probably compose a poem with them all, but your story didn’t feel like poetry.

It rather felt like some broken pieces of ceramic, that could have been arranged into that mosaic you had glanced at, for a time, as you had kissed. Pieces of ceramic that had been lost in those few days of him being a ghost.

“I need to go home, but I can meet you there later?” you finally replied, glancing at your friend.

You hated the concerned look on Chaeyoung’s features, but you forced yourself to smile, trying to reassure the girl. Trying to convince her that everything was alright.

“As long as you don’t bail…” Chaeyoung trailed off, walking in to help you pick up the few toys that were still scattered around the floor. “I don’t know what happened, Y/n, but you look exhausted.”

You sighed. There was no way you’d be able to convince Chaeyoung you were fine.

“I am. I’ve been for a few days.”

“What happened?” the girl quickly asked, and the concern on her features doubled up.

You sighed, standing up from the place where you had been kneeling. You glanced around the room, trying to find the courage to speak the words that had been haunting you, but you couldn’t find it.

“I haven’t been sleeping well”, you instead chose to say.

Chaeyoung had a no-bullshit look on her face once you finally met her gaze. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t insist, instead shrugging her shoulders and offering you a reassuring smile.

“Well, if you think that getting out of the house for a time would help, I’d be happy to do something more laid back than walking around Hongdae.”

“Don’t cancel your plans for me”, you said, shaking your head as your eyes widened a little.

The last thing you wanted was for more people to be aware that you weren’t doing fine.

“My friends wouldn’t mind, they like you”, Chaeyoung replied, shrugging her shoulders again. “But if you feel like staying home, that is okay too.”

You pursed your lips, nodding slightly. “Thanks, Chaeyoung.” And you really were thankful, because you weren’t quite sure you’d be able to go out.

Were willing to try to get ready, but wanted to be able to bail if you needed to.

Even as you were getting ready, two hours later, sitting in front of the large mirror of your vanity, you still weren’t sure you were going to go. Putting some make-up on felt good, though, as it permitted you to focus on something other than the treacherous thoughts that always led back to Jimin.

To the whole world that was between you now, not because of who you were, but because it felt like the distance between you wasn’t one that could be crossed.

You had just finished applying blush to your cheeks when your doorbell rang, and you froze. Because you knew, then, that the distance had finally become smaller. Still big enough for your heart to ache, but at least the wait was over.

Because, who else would it be but Jimin? Only Chaeyoung knew where you lived, and the girl was currently at a restaurant with her girlfriend and her other friends.

You almost dropped the brush you were holding as you put it down, hands starting to shake as you pushed up to your feet. You left your phone face down on the vanity, before jogging to the door. Hating that you had chosen the room the farthest from your door for your dressing room.

It felt like an eternity, before you reached that door, and you were a little breathless when you threw it open.

Jimin stood there, hands buried in the pockets of his coat, hair a little tousled, as if he’d just tried to tame it, but failed to do so. He was wearing earrings, as he most always did, and the light caught on the silver of them as he looked up to meet your gaze. He too had dark circles under his eyes, ones that you had just hidden on your own face.

“Jimin”, you breathed.

His eyes were still haunted by those shadows, and they went a little wide as you held his gaze.

“Y/n.”

He said your name with a softness that made you feel weak all of a sudden, and you were pretty sure tears were welling up in your eyes.

“You’re an idiot”, you said, and you let out a small chuckle. “Where have you been?”

He swallowed, his Adam apple bobbing up and down.

“I needed time to think”, he replied.

You fell silent, as he looked at a spot over your shoulder, before letting his gaze drop to the floor. It took him a moment before meeting your eyes again, and you felt like dying at the sight of the dark clouds in his gaze.

“I… figured”, you murmured, gulping. “That’s why I didn’t text you.”

“Can I come in?” 

You nodded, stepping aside. He walked in, and you breathed in the smell of his cologne before gently closing the door behind him.

“I was… getting ready”, you told him, feeling suddenly very awkward.

At least you had successfully blinked the tears away.

“We can sit in my dressing room?”

Jimin nodded, though he hadn’t met your gaze since he had stepped into your home. He followed you, silent as a mute, and sat in front of the second vanity in the room.

The one in front of which Chaeyoung had gotten ready, all those months ago, the night you had gone clubbing. The night you had stumbled into Jimin’s apartment as if it was your own. The night that had started it all, come to think of it.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asked as you sat back where you had been a moment earlier.

Not feeling like lying, you let the truth come out. “Nowhere.” You paused, as a puzzled expression took over his features. “Now that you’re here”, you specified, and his lips spread into a thin line.

It looked like anything but a smile.

“You can still go, if you want”, he said, before chewing on the dry skin of his bottom lip.

You shook your head no. “I’ve missed you, Jimin. I’d rather stay with you.”

He looked so sad, as you spoke the words. And then it hit you, that he maybe didn’t want to be with you.

Maybe he was there to end your relationship, once and for all.

“I…” he fell silent, his eyes falling to the scattered brushes and make-up items on the vanity. “I missed you too.”

There were some tears in your eyes again, damn you.

“Where were you?” you breathed, eyes not moving from his features.

Engraving them in your memory, and in the mosaic of you.

“I’ve been staying with Hobi-hyung”, he admitted. “I’ve been thinking, about us.”

You audibly gulped this time.

“So have I”, you whispered, and he met your gaze.

“I don’t think we’re good, Y/n”, he declared, after a short silence that lasted for an eternity.

It broke your heart, and you found you couldn’t fight the tears now.

“Oh…”

He just watched you, for a time, as a few tears escaped your eyes.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, as if the sight of those tears on your cheeks was so foreign to him, as if they were a concept he had never understood in school.

“I talked to your mother, before leaving Busan”, you told him.

He remained silent, eyes never leaving yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw me too, the day you met Collin?”

He didn’t move, for a time. Even looked as if he had stopped breathing. But then he let out a small broken sound – a chuckle, maybe.

“Because you would have thought me to be crazy.”

You dried your tears with the back of your hand. “Why would I have?”

He chuckled again, and this time it sounded a little realer. His eyes took on a distant expression, as he focused on the memories of that moment months ago. “Because you were standing with your back to me, in the kitchen. I was in the hallway, and all I could see was your hair. And then you turned to look at your boyfriend, and when I saw your face, I was just struck dumb.”

You didn’t even know when that had happened. Hadn’t seen him at all, standing there. And you were the one to be struck dumb now, at his confession. At the way his words echoed in your head until you felt drunk with them.

“I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and then you smiled at him and I assumed you were taken”, he continued. His eyes had met yours again, and you could see the truth they were shining with. “I felt strange, for a moment, and then Collin turned. He saw me, and he walked to the door, and shut it.”

A pretty girl and her boyfriend.

You remembered that. You had asked why Collin had shut the door, and he had just walked to you and kissed your forehead, before telling you to focus on what the realtor was saying.

“So, I went home”, he added. “And then when I saw you in the elevator, that day you were moving in, I assumed Collin was around. I felt awkward, because I thought he hated me.”

So, that was what it had been. It had never been about the Chimmy keychain or the mess of BTS albums, like you had believed at first. He had just thought you belonged to someone and hadn’t wanted to intrude in your relationship.

“And then I just felt uncomfortable around you, and I was a dick to you and I’m sorry I was. But when you tried getting into my apartment, and you told me what had happened, I just…”

He shrugged, and you only then noticed the silver brimming his gaze.

“I didn’t want to let you go, I guess. And you were fun to be with, so I tried to keep you around.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, as tears rolled freely down your face. He looked at them, before meeting your gaze again.

“I don’t know when I fell in love with you”, he continued, and tears moved on his cheeks too. “I think I’ve always known I’d fall for you, and then one day I realized the feelings were already there. I knew you had recently come out of a relationship, so I didn’t say anything. But that night, I just lost it… Seeing you chat with Sungwoon, seeing him flirt with you, I just hated it.”

Sungwoon had been flirting with you? It hit you then: it was jealousy, that had made Jimin act the way that he had, those few weeks ago.

“And when we kissed, and you left, I thought ‘that is it, your friendship with her is over’”, he admitted, chuckling sadly again. “So, I decided to pretend nothing had happened, and when you did the same thing, I assumed we’d just never talk about it again, and I’d do everything I could to prevent it from happening again.”

You really had been fools.

“Eoma told me she could see the love in my eyes, while we were cooking, and that I was making a mistake, to fall in love with you.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest, and you choked on a sob.

“And maybe I should have told her then”, he added, getting up from his spot to come closer to you, grabbing your hands. “I’ve sacrificed so much to be where I am. I’ve sacrificed friendships and relationships and my own health.” He paused, as if he didn’t want you to be associated with all those shadows in his life. And you were glad he had, because his next words destroyed everything in you, only to build it anew. “I’m not willing to sacrifice you too.”

You got up, letting out a small sad laugh as Jimin smiled.

“I am in love with you, Y/n”, he breathed. “And I want to be with you.”

You blinked away a fresh wave of tears, and he let go of one of your hands, to wipe the tears from your face.

“I thought you were coming here to tell me we were done”, you admitted, and another tear rolled down his cheek.

He chuckled. “I thought so too. But you had to start crying and make me weak.”

His eyes were full of emotions you couldn’t quite interpret, yet you knew they echoed those in your own heart.

“I’ve been weak for you for so long”, you whispered, as you leaned in the hand he had kept against your face.

He laughed, just a little, as you reached to dry his cheek from the lone tear.

“I’ve been weak for you before I even met you.”

He laughed again, and the sound was healing, really.

“You were my bias, you know?” you let out. “But then when I met you, I started hating you, because I thought you were an entitled prick.”

He pursed his lips, holding in a smile.

“And then you took care of me that night, and you were just so friendly I thought you were a completely different person.”

You smiled softly at the memory, and at the warmth that it raised in you.

“You started talking to me, more, and you were so friendly and bubbly. I felt like I was in heaven, for a moment, and you helped me through the grief of Collin, and of him and his new family.”

You thought about it for a time, eyes falling to his neck as you lost your focus on his features.

“I think I saw you like my own little family, for a long time, because you were filling a hole in my chest. And then you started being more, and I started looking for you in every room I was in.”

Maybe you had already been in love with him, then.

“And when we kissed, I felt like it was meant to be”, you said. “Like you were the one I was meant to find. And I guess guilt crept in, about Collin, and I know it’s stupid, but I felt guilty, and I left.”

And it was true. Your thoughts hadn’t gone to Collin, but your body hadn’t recognized Jimin to be the body it was used to, back then, and it had made panic kick in.

“I regret leaving then”, you admitted. “I wish I hadn’t, and I wish I had stayed with you.”

You breathed in and out shakily, as the truth kept flowing out of your mouth.

“I want to be with you too. I’m afraid, because you are you and I am me and there is so many worlds between us.”

He grabbed your face then, ever so gently. Eyes gazing into yours with so much love and adoration you felt as if you could die right then, and die happy.

“I don’t care about any worlds between us”, he whispered. “I just want you.”

“I’ve fallen in love with you, Jimin”, you breathed, and he pressed his lips against yours.

It was terribly soft, that first kiss after the one weeks ago. Like he was scared to make you run again, and he just wanted to get a last taste of you. Without hurting you, like the way one graze their fingers against a flower. Ever so gently, lest the petals be spoiled.

But you weren’t a flower, and you didn’t want to be treated as such. Wanted the desperation that you had been drowning in for the last few days to finally flow out of you. So, you put the feelings in the kiss, letting your lips mesh with his harder, and he breathed out, his hands falling to your waist, pulling you closer.

He tasted salty, from the tears that had been rolling on his cheeks. He tasted of honey, too, a sweet taste that you knew you’d come to love more than anything. And his hands on your waist were warm, hot, and they pulled you ever so closer, until all of your body was pressed against all of his.

You snaked your hands between you, moving to unbutton his coat. He helped you, pulling away for half a second, just enough time to let the coat fall to the floor.

When his lips crashed on yours again, the rhythm of the kiss changed, becoming frantic, as if the desperation had hit him too, and he needed to feel you.

A breathy sound fell from your lips as his tongue met yours, and he made you turn your back towards the wall, pushing you back until your ass hit the vanity. He pulled you up on top of it, and you spread your legs to make space for him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him back into the kiss.

It was heated, that kiss, so heated you thought you were about to burst into flames. Into flames and fireworks and softness, as if it was more the afterglow than the explosion. And it felt like that – like that feeling of awe fireworks leave in one’s heart.

As he kissed you, hands roaming along your thighs, along your waist, you found yourself seeing that mosaic again. The one you had thought you were seeing through tainted glass. Only this time, the mosaic took form in your universe, a sight so beautiful your soul felt full, like it was incomplete until you an Jimin had finally chosen each other. It was beautiful, really, with reds and oranges and purples, along with the blues and lilacs and yellows your friendship had consisted of.

It was so much more than whatever you had had with Collin. Collin had been in your life for a long time, yes, but your soul had never been his, the way that it was Jimin’s.

Jimin moved from your lips to your neck, as you were still clutching his collar. You let it go, fingers moving to run through his hair, pulling at it. He bit your neck, then, gently, but hard enough to elicit a soft moan from your mouth.

He went crazy at the sound. Hands moving underneath your shirt, caressing the skin of your waist, before moving up to your breasts. Heat pooled between your legs as he grinded into you, and you could feel his own arousal against you, the friction making you see stars.

You hadn’t had sex in a long time and perhaps that, more than the feeling of him against you, had you pull away slightly.

“Jimin”, you breathed.

He looked up from your neck, eyes glassy with lust, lips glossy and red and swollen from your ministrations. He seemed slightly scared for a time, until you grabbed his face and pecked his lips once.

That seemed to reassure him, and a soft smile lit up his features.

“Y/n”, he breathed, too, and you felt your heart swell in your chest, with the feelings that you had for him.

“I…” you trailed off, looking between his two eyes. Gazing at the love that was warming them, taking it in and making it yours.

He was yours, and you were his.

“Can we take our time?” you asked, gently. “I haven’t…”

His eyes widened slightly, and he made to pull away, though you kept him from getting too far by wrapping your legs around his waist.

“You’re a virgin?” he asked.

Laughter burst out of you. “What?”

He wasn’t smiling, and he just looked confused.

He was truly adorable.

“I just haven’t had sex in a long time”, you admitted.

And it was true. Even before you and Collin had broken up, you hadn’t really gotten physical. Since…

You didn’t let your heart ache, as you realized he hadn’t really gotten intimate with you again, after October. After he had cheated with Harper.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked, concern moving in his gaze.

He must have been able to read the feelings on your face.

You nodded. “I am.” You paused, glancing down at his mouth. “Please kiss me again.”

His tongue darted out, to wet his lips. “I won’t be able to go slow, if you tell me stuff like that.”

You didn’t know where your confidence came from, but you let a smirk grow on your lips. “Oh, Jimin-ie… We have all night in front of us, you better take your time.”

A smirk grew on his own lips, as his eyes grew ten times darker. But still they shone from within, with a light you hoped would never leave. “You’re lucky I’ve got a great stamina.”

You snorted, and then blushed as embarrassment raised in your chest at how awkward the sound had been. Until Jimin pecked your nose, the flirtatiousness melting into soft warmth.

“You are so cute”, he breathed against your lips, before kissing you again.

The gentleness of the action made you blush even more, though you fled from the feeling behind it, biting at his lips.

He was goddamn Park Jimin, and you were just you.

The insecurity that it brought to you menaced to shatter the mosaic again, but he chased it away as he kissed you, with more heat than you thought you could handle, until your body caved in to his touch. It was easy then, to let your thoughts dissolve into nothingness, especially as he grinded into you again, and the length of his erection brushed against your clit.

You moaned, a full noise that sounded far too obscene. He swallowed it, his tongue diving in your mouth to meet yours, establishing a rhythm that promised to be a sweet treat to your body.

Your hands pulled at the hem of his shirt, even as you didn’t remember having slid them underneath it, needing to feel the warmth of his skin. He pulled away from the kiss, to take off the piece of clothing, and it met his coat on the floor as your eyes fell to his ‘Never mind’ tattoo. Your fingers gently ran over it, and your heart beat quicker in your chest.

You had never thought you’d be touching his tattoos so intimately one day. Would have called crazy whoever would have said that you were meant to be there, in that mosaic of you.

Your phone chose that moment to start buzzing next to you, startling you. Both your gazes fell to the device, and you stayed still for a time. Until you grabbed the phone, breathing raggedly as you noticed that it was Chaeyoung. You didn’t feel like picking up the call, so you sent your friend to voicemail.

“Let me just text her”, you mumbled, as Jimin’s gaze burned on your face.

He nodded, his hands remaining on your waist as you unlocked your phone, and informed Chaeyoung that you were busy with Jimin, and that you wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.

It was worth the shit-eating smirk that was on Jimin’s lips when you looked up.

“Busy, mmh?” he said, gaze heavy with lust and desire as he looked down at the little space between you.

You nodded, feeling a wave of confidence again. “Maybe we should actually get to work though.” You bit your lip, looking at Jimin through your eyelashes, in a way that you hoped was attractive.

It made you feel awkward, though it seemed to work on Jimin, because he swiftly pulled your shirt off, and you hoped he couldn’t tell the blush on your cheeks was from being embarrassed. Luckily enough for you, his eyes had dropped to your chest, and at the black lacy bralette you were wearing.

“Fuck”, he breathed out. He looked up, meeting your gaze. “You’re so beautiful.”

Now, you felt very shy. Too shy to have him looking at you still, so you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss again. He kissed you sweetly, with his pretty swollen lips, grinding into you for one last time before he stepped back.

“Now, let’s get you out of these pants.”

You gulped, nodding yes because you were pretty sure your voice would have failed you. Jimin unbuttoned your pants, though he didn’t make to pull them down your legs yet. Instead, he let his hand move between your legs, fingers grazing at you through the fabric.

“You’re so hot”, he said, breathing hard.

You whined, as he pressed on your clit, skilled fingers finding it right away.

He smirked, then, male pride evident in his gaze at the sounds he was already coaxing out of you, before pulling your pants down your legs. He gazed at your clothed pussy, only your black panties separating you from his hungry eyes, and you wondered if he could already see the wetness pooling there.

You doubted you had ever been wet like that before, and you had barely even started.

Before moving closer to you again, Jimin unbuckled his belt, eyes boring through yours with an intensity you had never seen in their depths. It made the hotness between your legs burn achily.

His jeans fell to the ground, though he kept his underwear on. He stepped out of the fabric pooling around his ankles, and then moved back between your legs. You blushed as he grabbed your chin to make you look up.

You had been gazing at the imprint of his hard dick.

“Eyes up here, baby”, he said, smirking, before stealing another kiss, one that led to him pushing his erection against you again.

It felt better, now that less fabric laid between you, though it wasn’t enough. You wanted all of him, lest you’d go crazy. Jimin seemed to understand it, because one of his hands found its way between your legs, and he ran his fingers on your clothed pussy, and on the wetness that was seeping through your panties.

“Fuck, Y/n”, he growled, and really, his voice was so low it sounded animalistic. “You’re so fucking wet already.”

“Please”, you breathed, and he smirked.

Smirked and pulled away, eyes going down to your clothed self again.

“I want to taste you.”

“Do it”, you murmured, as he was already kneeling down.

He didn’t wait, didn’t take his time. He pulled your panties to the side, tongue lapping at your entrance, collecting your juices. You moaned, loudly, and your head threw back as your eyes fell shut. One of your hands moved to your breast, pinching at your erect nipple through the fabric, as Jimin started working on you.

If there was one thing that was true about Jimin, it was that he knew how to use his tongue. Indeed, he skillfully found your clit, pressing small circles on it, and before you could even realize it, he slid a finger inside of you, curling it to find that sweet spot that made you see stars.

You moaned, louder, one of your hands moving to his hair, as he established a quick rhythm that had your legs shaking with sensitivity. Soon enough, he buried another of his fingers inside of you, spreading you wide open, and you clenched your walls against him.

You wanted more, and you couldn’t keep your body from telling him.

He sucked on your clit, moaning against you, and this time your pussy clenched by itself, walls holding him tightly inside.

“Fuck”, he said against you, pulling away just enough to look up at you.

You met his gaze, your own half-lidded eyes lost in the bliss of the pleasure he was giving you, and he smirked, lips shining from your wetness, before diving right back in.

Whatever he had been doing before wasn’t even half of what he could do, because this time, his tongue pressed hard against you, moving quickly, eliciting obscene moans from you, sounds tangled with his name as he inched you closer and closer to your orgasm.

And right when it was about to hit, your walls already pulsing against him, Jimin pulled away, leaving you empty. Empty and aching with the denied orgasm.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to take your time?” he asked, teasingly, once your eyes opened to glare at him.

“Fuck”, was all you could mutter back.

Jimin pressed his lips against yours, and you sucked on his bottom lip, moaning at the taste of yourself that still was lingering on his mouth. His fingers were digging in your hips, the pain a slight warning at the back of your mind.

Though you threw the warning away, because it felt way too damn good. His digits didn’t linger there for long, moving up to rid you of your bralette, and his mouth fell to your breast, sucking on it as you moaned again. He looked up, continuing his ministrations against your erect nipple, and you met his gaze, your pussy clenching around nothing. Maybe Jimin could tell, because his fingers found their way back to your pussy, and soon enough he had taken off your panties, fingers pumping in and out of you so quickly you could feel yourself withering away.

You knew you’d be nothing once the orgasm would hit. So, you grabbed onto him, right as he moved his face up and buried it in your neck. You breathed your pleasure in the shell of his ears as his fingers moved in and out, wet pornographic sounds filling the whole room.

“You’re so fucking wet”, he said again, but you barely were able to register it.

You wanted to say yes, but all that you could let out was a broken sound as your orgasm hit you out of nowhere, leaving you to shake with the waves of pleasure that moved through you.

Jimin worked you through the orgasm, thumb moving against your clit as his fingers curled inside of you, and you blinked back tears to look at him, though his face was hung low, forehead against your shoulder. Once he had milked the last of your orgasm from you, he looked up, meeting your gaze.

He looked a little crazed, as if he was in pain, and you understood why as your hand found its way to his dick, palming him through the fabric of his underwear.

He was so hard it had to be painful.

“I want to taste you too”, you murmured, too fucked out to be embarrassed with your words.

He kissed you, wildly, before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “Later”, he said, and he breathed it out like a promise. “For now I just want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name again.”

You hadn’t been aware you were screaming his name in the first place, but you didn’t have time to say it before he pulled you to your feet, turning you around until he had you bending over the vanity. You watched him take off his underwear in the mirror, your pussy still pulsing a little. Next thing you knew he was burying himself inside of you, so hard your thighs hit the vanity, and you screamed a moan, right as he groaned.

He was bigger than you had expected, and the stretching burned, though he remained still, to give you time to adjust. Or maybe just that had been enough to bring him close to the edge, and he had to refrain from moving otherwise he’d come.

His hands were on your hips, and you risked another look in the mirror, knowing fully well he was already looking at you.

Seeing Park Jimin, right there, impaling you, almost was enough to make you come again.

“Don’t clench around me like that”, he grunted, and he sounded as if he was in pain.

His eyes fell shut, and he started moving inside of you, ever so slowly. Slowly inching out, until he pushed all the way in again. You moaned, and his fingers tightened on your skin, before one of his hands loosened its grip, to gently run against the skin of your back.

“I don’t want to hurt you”, he murmured.

Your words finally found you again. “You’re not hurting me.”

His eyes flashed open at the sound of your voice, and you found you couldn’t hold his gaze. Not when he was fucking into you as slowly as he was.

“How do you like it?” he asked, and he bent over to press a kiss on the back of your shoulder before straightening again.

It made you feel warm inside, a feeling that cut through the lust you were drowning in, only to disappear as he started pounding into you.

“Fast?” he asked, before slowing down. “Or like this?”

When you remained silent, Jimin slapped your ass, and you moaned his name.

“As much as I love hearing you say my name like that, you haven’t answered my question, haven’t you?”

You whimpered as he slapped your ass again. Not enough to hurt, but just enough for your skin to tingle with the sting. “I want you to feel good”, you replied.

He stilled inside of you. “Look at me.”

You hadn’t even realized you had shut your eyes. 

His gaze was soft when you met it. “No matter how we do it, I’ll feel good inside your tight pussy.”

It was crass, how he said the words, and it only turned you on even more.

“Then fuck me, Jimin”, you said, because really you couldn’t look at him any longer.

And so he did, pounding inside of you until he had you seeing stars, a second orgasm threatening to push you over the edge. You kept it in, knowing you’d be too ruined if you came again, especially as you were already turning sore. You wanted him to feel good before you’d let yourself go like that again.

His balls slapped against your clit as he fucked you, a strange music resonating in the room, and you held onto the sides of your vanity as he pushed harder and harder, your tits resting flat against the brushes and make-up items on the furniture. You could barely feel them there, your whole focus solely on the space between your legs, and the way he was moving inside of you, stretching you.

“You feel so good”, he praised you, and you moaned your agreement, which had him chuckling.

It felt so normal, so casual, that your heart swelled in your chest, tears moving in your gaze.

“I love you”, you breathed, unable to stop the words before they had moved out of your mouth.

He stopped pounding into you then, meeting your gaze, his own eyes creasing at the corners with fondness and love. “Y/n…”

You held his gaze for a time, until you found you couldn’t anymore. Your eyes fell shut, and you wondered if it was tears that were filling the space under your lids.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, gently, once again bending to kiss your shoulder.

“You feel so good”, you said, echoing his previous words.

He hadn’t moved from your shoulder when he spoke again. “You look in pain.”

You weren’t in pain, honestly. You were just overwhelmed with your feelings for him, and you were too much of a coward to meet his gaze.

“I am not”, you promised. “Can we move to my room?”

The question felt appropriate, aimed to make him drop his concern. And it worked, as he pulled away, leaving you empty, and he pulled you up, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kissed the side of your neck.

You shivered, tilting your head to the side, allowing him to move up your skin until he was sucking on the spot bellow your ear.

“I love you too”, he murmured against you, before kissing the hickey he had just created on your skin.

Another piece of the mosaic that was yours.

You turned in his arms, then, pressing your lips against his, kissing him until you felt so drunk with him you couldn’t even remember your own name. He picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, lips still pressed against yours.

He took a few unsteady steps towards the exit of the room, before stopping as he chuckled in the kiss. The sound was sweet and innocent even though you were butt-naked and had just been fucking like there was no tomorrow. It made you love him even more, and you wrapped your arms around his neck tighter to hold him close to you.

You never wanted to be away from him again.

He pulled away from your lips, to look over your shoulder. “As much as I love kissing you, I’ll have to look where I’m going or we’ll both end up on the floor.”

You laughed then, an airy sound that didn’t even seem like it belonged to you. As he walked, you pressed your lips against the spot where his neck met his shoulder, his earring tickling your face as you sucked on the skin, giving him a hickey in return for the one he had just put on your own skin.

He hissed, hands tightening their grip on your ass, as he finally reached your room. He carried you to your bed, putting you down before straightening. You looked up at him, then, eyes full of love and desire. He grabbed your cheeks, thumbs brushing against your skin gently, before bending down to press a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Why don’t you make place for me, mmh?” he asked against your lips, before straightening and motioning to the pillows on the other side of the bed.

You obeyed, and soon enough Jimin was hovering over you, one hand holding him up as he kneeled between your legs, his erection resting against your pelvis.

“You are so beautiful”, he murmured again, and it sounded like a prayer, like you were the god to his religion.

It made you feel shy again, and your eyes shut, instinctively.

He brushed your cheek with his knuckles, ever so gently, coaxing you to open your eyes. Only you didn’t, your insecurity meeting you full force.

How could you be having sex with Park Jimin? You were no one and…

“Look at me, Y/n”, he said, murmuring the words against your lips.

He was so close you could feel his mouth moving against yours.

“You’re intimidating to look at”, you replied, truthfully.

That made him move away, far enough for his breath to be a ghost on your skin, barely even warm from the distance.

“What?” he let out.

“Why me?” you asked, then, as you truly wondered. It was hard to believe someone like Jimin wanted to be with someone like you.

“Y/n…” he breathed, and he pecked your forehead, a sweet act that was purely done out of his love for you.

A pretty girl and her boyfriend.

“Because to me, you’re the prettiest girl in the world. The only one I see, the only one I want, and the one I want to spend my life with.” He pecked your nose then, before pulling away again. “You’re the one I am in love with, and no girl will ever compare to you.” He pecked your lips. “No one can ever compare to you.”

You are the mosaic of my soul. 

It was the confirmation that you had needed, and your insecurity slowly dwindled away, replaced by the warmth he brought to your heart.

You made love then, gaze lost in each other’s, in the stars Jimin’s eyes held and the love you shared. The shadows had long left Jimin’s gaze, and they were shining, glowing with pure love and happiness, and desire. So much desire you truly felt like the prettiest girl in the world. 

You hoped his shadows and clouds would never come back. Promised yourself you wouldn’t let them come back, whatever it took.

Jimin moved slowly, inside of you, until you reached another orgasm, one that took its origin in that pure feeling you shared, an orgasm that had him toppling over the edge too, spilling inside of you.

And he stayed there, for a long time, gazing into your eyes. He had long gone soft when he pulled out, his seed spilling from you. He stayed close, pressing soft kisses on your cheeks and lips, until you were giggling and blushing.

“You are adorable”, he said, and you moved your hands to his ribs… tickling him.

He yelped, pulling away from you. “Traitor”, he said, between two laughs.

It made you laugh a little more, as he sat on the side of your bed.

It was a strange sight to see. A naked Park Jimin, in your bedroom. In the place where no one but you had ever been before. The place where no one but you two would be from now on.

You turned, lying on your belly, as you looked up at him. His eyes trailed on your body appreciatingly, landing on your ass.

“I knew you had a nice ass but, fuck, the real sight is much better than what I had anticipated”, he said, teasingly, before slapping your ass for emphasis and getting up.

“Hey!” you let out, laughing as he took a single step away, and your eyes fell to his own ass. “You’re one to talk, with the dump truck you’re carrying around.”

Jimin spun around, eyes wide as he met your gaze. You burst out laughing at the same time, and you felt warm and happy and complete.

There was no more beautiful feeling in this world.

“Come, let’s get cleaned up”, he said, offering you a hand to help you stand up.

Grabbing his extended hand felt like a promise. It felt like you had just finished making the mosaic of you, and you were finally ready to gaze at the whole piece of art.

It was a promise, that you’d be together, from now on until the end.

I want to be with you.

Jimin’s words echoed in your mind.

I want to be with you too.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

AAAH. Thank you for reading me. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed building the story for these two. It was fun, though the beginning was excruciating to write. Hopefully it didn’t feel like that to read it!!

Let me know what you thought of the fic! Feedback is always appreciated, and a good source of motivation for writing more stories like that ;). I might also start a taglist so let me know if you want to be added to that!

Anyways, love you lots, thank you again for reading me <3

#park jimin #park jimin fanfic #park jimin smut #park jimin fluff #park jimin angst #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin fic #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #bts pjm #pjm x reader #i want to be with you

[aquagustd]

lust for life - PJM

your summer holiday takes an interesting turn when Park Jimin, your step brother’s best friend, barges into your room asking for directions around your parents’ new home, dripping in the same charm and allure you remember from all those years ago, still willing to teach you a few things.

⤷ lust for life masterlist

pairing — stepbro’s best friend!jimin x reader

genre/rating — R | smut, fluff, slight angst, fwb2l

word count — 7.4K

play — lust for life by lana del rey, the weeknd

warnings/tags — summer holiday, friends with benefits, rich kids au, college au, strong language, small age gap, sorta weird family dynamics, inexperienced!reader, flirty jimin, he has a filthy mouth, blond jimin, sexual discovery, corruption kink, loss of innocence kinda, insecurities, virgin!reader but she’s a secret freak lol, bickering, her fave color is pink, vaping, teasinggg, mouth fetish?, slight coercion, fifty shades mention, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, mentions of masturbation, explicit smut — food play, first kiss, dirty talk, hair pulling, tongue sucking, biting, oral (f), multiple orgasms, grinding, cum eating, overstimulation, cum on stomach

note: SHDJSJ finally !! i hope you guys enjoy this jimin 🫦 he’s honestly straight out of my dreams 😩

italics are y/n’s thoughts

It’s the first night of summer and you’re alone.

Well, not really, if you count the fake excitement and curt greetings shared by the sea of sybarites, holding a metaphorical knife behind the other’s back even as they exchange somewhat fond smiles – you’re not alone.

Sat at the scarcely populated area of the courtyard, observing your mother as she hops from table to table, ensuring that her guests are comfortable and entertained through the night. Of course, you don’t mind sharing a table with the oldies since no one would bother to approach their table and you’d have some reprieve from your mother’s punitive stare, urging you to ‘behave like a host and entertain.’ But you’d much rather listen to Mr. Jon’s tall tales for the eighteenth time than entertain a bunch of backstabbing idiots.

Lips pressed to the edge of glass, you drink up the last drops of champagne, glad that you found this spot, otherwise you’d be forced to engage in conversation with people your age and that’s an experience you’ve been dreading since the words ‘housewarming party’ left your mother’s lips. You knew that little is something she can never do, so when you saw the setup, amazed that your own backyard was transformed into an 18th century ball setup, only with seventeen tables lining the edges for the guests to dine, you weren’t surprised.

Although it isn’t entirely a terrible night. You spot a few cuties but don’t look more than twice because if they’re here, attending your parents’ housewarming party – an excuse to brag about their new mansion and the yard and everything else – they’re guaranteed to be insufferable snobs.

If Farah had decided not to go on that trip to Germany with her parents, you wouldn’t be alone, probably getting up to shit in your room or finishing up the chocolate-dipped strawberries.

That reminds you…you straighten your posture to get a better look at the snack table, cursing when you accidentally make eye contact with your mother. She excuses herself from her table, charging toward you like a bull with its eyes set on the blaring red target.

The target being you…grabbing another glass of champagne to busy yourself but it’s too late.

“Good evening,” she’s speaking with that customer service voice, the one you hate, directed at the other guests seated at the table which is no longer your safe space. “___.”

You spin around, feigning innocence, “hmm?”

She hooks her hand around your elbow, stiletto-shaped nails digging into your flesh as she drags you from the table to the side, speaking through gritted teeth.

“What do you think our guests would say? Doc’s daughter can’t entertain—”

“Technically,” you yank out of her grip, sneakily pulling her to the snack table, “I’m not Doc’s daughter, you’re Doc’s wife.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing with annoyance, “not this tonight. Grow up, ___.”

You fold your arms, tapping the skin she had just bruised with her talons, “I’ll grow up when you stop treating me like a child, Mum. I don’t see you tailing around Doc and—”

She knows you’re talking about your stepbrother Doc this time and not her husband Doc, but she still dismisses your statement and places a tender hand on your lower back.

“Come, just walk with me for a bit and then I’ll let you go. Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight? I saw a few eyes on you when you walked in.”

You hook your arm in hers, a bored eyeroll accompanying your words, “I didn’t, was too busy wondering why you invited Mr. Kim and his wife when he literally threw you under the bu—”

A shout of your mother’s name has her rooting you to one spot, taking you with her as she spins around to flash a smile to none other than—

“Mr. Kim!”

She leans forward to accept Mr. Kim’s wife’s air kisses, eyes falling on you once she’s done showering them with her half-hearted praise. They’re both dripping in jewellery, teeth as white as the pearls on her neck.

“This is my daughter, ___.”

He has the same eyes as his son, it’s a shame they don’t hold the same emotion, all you see is malice behind his. They tip their heads in your direction, tight-lipped smiles in place as their gazes drift from your feet to your face.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you,” he beams, tucking his hand in his suit pants pocket, “we’ve only heard wonderful things about you.”

You scoff. Wish I could say the same for you.

That earns you a painful jab in the ribs from your mother, “of course, it’s fantastic that she and Namjoon have grown so close, no? Since they will probably graduate together and join the family business…”

You’re aware that your mother is just fishing them for information, wondering if Namjoon would join their business after he graduates like you since that’s pretty much been the plan for you…from the day you took your first breath.

“Ah,” Mr. Kim chuckles, the sound a little familiar to you, “I would have to consult with him first and get back to you on that, since he changes his mind every few days.”

It isn’t long before your mother gets distracted by another family of leeches you’re surprised to see at the party, enduring awkward introductions and her justification as to why you’re not married yet at the ripe age of twenty-three.

“She’s grown to be a beautiful young woman,” Mrs. Park compliments, taking a lock of your hair between her fingers.

Your mother blushes as if the praise was directed at her, “she has,” her eyes skate behind the friendly couple, a question on her lips.

Mr. Park nods to himself, “Jimin should be around here somewhere. Must be with Doc.”

Very poorly, you hide the feeling of excitement behind a yawn, enthusiasm for this night to be over diminishing now that you know –  Jimin is here…Park Jimin, your brother’s best friend who you haven’t seen since your sixteenth birthday.

God, what does he look like now? Is he still close with your brother? How will he react when he sees you? Will you even get to see him?

It’s funny how over the years, you even forgot about the possibility of him returning someday with your brother. And now you’re starting to hate this night a little less.

Somehow you manage to slip away, only to bump into another blood-sucking Kim.

“Wow, what a surprise to see you here.”

You groan, about to turn around but decide against it since your mother has already noticed your absence.

Seokjin rounds the drinks table, nudging into your shoulder with the side of his arm, thick navy-blue suit tailored perfectly to his lithe frame.

He grabs a bottle of beer, dusting of the shards of ice with the side of his hand while you’re scanning the table, feeling his stare burn into the side of his face. Despite knowing that you enjoy his brother’s company far better than his, he sticks around, irritating you with his ridiculously perfect face.

“Where’s your husband?”

You sigh deeply, waving your very empty ring finger in front of his face.

“That’s funny, shouldn’t you be married?”

“Shouldn’t you be writing your will?”

He laughs, shoulders shaking with the action and by the way he bares his teeth, you know he’s hardly offended by your statement, not as offended as you that is. You don’t believe that he’s been out of the country for so long that he didn’t have a chat with his brother. Your best friend would’ve definitely informed his brother had there been a wedding.

He’s doing it to annoy you.

“Why didn’t Namjoon come tonight?”

“He stayed in to study,” Seokjin sniggers, raising a long finger in your direction, “that’s why I’m surprised to see you out tonight, shouldn’t you be studying too?”

Ignoring his question, you tread a bit to the right, hoping he gets the hint that the conversation is over. Thankfully, the snacks table is only a few feet away from the drinks table, so you get your share of chocolate-dripped strawberries and some fresh cream on a plate, ready to make your sly escape but even with the clamour behind you – you still hear the crunch of grass behind you.

“Where’s Doc, your brother? Didn’t see him around tonight.”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask his PA?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen, “he got a PA now? Damn.”

You level him with a frustrated stare, “I was being sarcastic.”

He grins, “I know.”

Dashing past you, you nearly drop your plate of strawberries and cream as he bumps into your shoulder, balancing several bottles of beer in his arms, disappearing into the crowd.

“Well, if you see him let him know I was looking for him!

Muttering to yourself, you decide to take the staircase around the pool into the house, breathing a heavy sigh of relief once you’re inside since your mother wouldn’t want to leave her guests out alone to look for you inside. But your relief is replaced with the same tension from earlier when you spot Julian and the rest of your brother’s friends barging in through the backdoor, the lounge echoing with their whoops and hollers.

As swift as you can be, you make a run for the staircase, yelping when you’re caught by an arm around your neck.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Mum’s looking for you,” you grit, wriggling out of his hold, “I think I’ve done my fair share of socialising for tonight. It’s your turn now.”

He plucks a strawberry from your plate, ignoring your protests as he lets you go, flinging his blazer over his shoulder.

“She’s gonna come looking for you,” he warns, blocking your path up the stairs.

“That’s my problem, just keep your mouth shut and she won’t know where to look.”

He tsks, gesturing for his friends to follow him up the staircase. You gasp, annoyed that he’s not at the party when you had to hear a lecture before it even started. He doesn’t even seem the slightest bit worried.

To your horror, Julian waves a baggie in front of your face, “wanna join?”

“What the f—Doc? Seriously?”

He scratches the back of his head, holding his room door open for his friends while you’re left to stare at his hooligan friends stupidly as they rush into his room.

“Yeah,” he clicks his tongue, not expressing even a bit of sorrow, “might wanna keep your balcony door closed tonight.”

With that, he shuts the door behind him, leaving you to, once again, curse the fact that even though your parents just bought this twenty-five-bedroom, fifteen-bathroom, pool, garage, etcetera, mansion, you still have to compromise like you always have since you were six years old. Doc’s room is right next to yours, and your rooms have an adjoining balcony, so if they’re going to smoke it up all night – the smell is something you can’t avoid, no matter how tight you lock the doors and windows.

So, the first thing you do when you enter your room is lock the door behind you, the balcony door, crank up the heat since it’s a bit chilly in your room and switch on your LED lights. Unfortunately, you’d have to find a way to get comfortable in your velvet dress and a full-face of makeup since it’s still early in the night and you’d probably have to see the guests off once everything is over.

Leaning back against your fluffy, pink cushions, you pull out the book you were reading from under the covers, bottom lip caught between your teeth at the sight of the cover art – the image alone gets you all hot. With eager fingers, you pinch the bookmark and find the exact paragraph where you left off earlier tonight, grinning to yourself.

Wait.

Quickly switching on your speaker, you link it up to your phone and dial up one of your reading playlists, munching on a sweet strawberry. And resumed reading…

I shivered as he trailed a hand up my thigh, inhaling a sharp breath, his eyes holding mine.

“Tell me to stop,” Eddie began, voice as cautious as the hand lingering near my womanhood, “and I will.”

But I said nothing, words failing me as he dared to go higher, and higher, brushing the frills of my underwear and when the heat was too much for me to take, I clamped my thighs shut.

Keeping his hand there too.

His blue eyes sparkled, leaning forward on the table as his thumb brushed my cheek with the faintest of touches.

“If you want me to stop, you would need to let my hands free.”

“I…”

My lips hung open, trembling as I enjoyed the heat his rough, calloused hands brought to my skin. So foreign, yet so familiar.

“I don’t want to let you go.”

With my confession, I spread my legs apart, head falling back as he finally, finally pressed into my sweet petals with the pad of his thumb. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, and I wish he would quench my thirst with that very same tongue. Aid the dryness of my mouth. It’s a feeling I miss, deeply.

He watches with intense lust, my sweetness seeping through the fabric of my underwear, drawing me closer with slow, yet precise, movements of his thumb.

“Did you miss me? Touching you like this?”

I grip the seat of my chair, my feet kicking forward to meet the shiny points of his shoes under the table.

“Oh, I did,” I moan so loudly, “I missed it very much.”

The grunt he lets out awakens something carnal within me. I spread my legs further, feeling his fingers dip underneath the very material keeping him from breaking me. A mere graze and—

KNOCK KNOCK

You jolt upright, cursing to the walls, “who is it?!”

KNOCK KNOCK

“Oh for fuck’s sake—” shoving your book back under the covers, you spring up from the bed and stomp over to the door “—Doc, if you—”

“Oh, hi.”

The man you see waiting on the other side of your room door is a face you never expected to see…for a while now. You stand stock still, fingers gripping the door handle while he purses his lips, eyeing you up and down.

“Jimin.”

He tips his chin up, eyes disappearing into slits, “___, almost didn’t recognize you.”

A compliment. Since you despise your past self.

“You too,” you admit, taking in his sandy blond hair slicked back, dressed in a military blazer with gold detailing, but the same angled jaw and naughty eyes to match.

He places his hand on the doorframe, crossing one ankle over the other as he looms over your anxious figure, peeking inside your room. You swallow, breathing in his citrussy, cottony scent, another thing that hasn’t changed along with his silver rings and jewellery.

“Was looking for the restroom.”

“You can use mine,” you blurt, stepping aside immediately for him to enter the haven that is your room. You realize that none of your friends have seen your new room yet, and it’s quite ironic that Park Jimin is the first to step in and use your bathroom.

He surveys every corner of your room with inquisitive eyes and you’re wondering if he shares your thoughts.

The first time you moved into your old house, when you turned fourteen, Jimin was the first to see your room, since he came over to play video games with your brother, but this time you’re adults – and you shouldn’t be feeling this way all over again.

Why does it seem so personal to have him in your room? So intimate? Because he’s the only guy who’s ever been in your room? The only guy that counts…

“Uh…”

“Oh, there—” you point to the door near your cupboards, watching him disappear into the bathroom before you flop down on your bed and turn down the music.

There are literally more than ten bathrooms in this house – but he just happened to knock on your room door before he found one…Weird.

But you don’t want to seem weird either, even though you have countless questions for him, so you return to your position in bed, and spend some time on social media. Ensuring that the book is hidden under your covers.

Several minutes pass and he exits the bathroom, you’re covering your face with your phone, unsure of what to say and awaiting the sound of the door closing so you can react to seeing Park Jimin after nearly eight years…But the sound never comes, instead you feel a dip by the foot of your bed, clutching your phone to your chest at the sight of Jimin lounging there, blazer hanging off your desk chair.

He throws you a slow, appraising smirk.

“Err…”

Unbothered, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, now laying down fully. You shift uncomfortably, hoping to get his attention, but he doesn’t stir.

From afar, one would say that this shouldn’t annoy you – but it does. It does annoy you. Because you haven’t seen this man for eight years. Eight years no contact. And if you had a fairly good friendship in the past, all that faded away with time and space and separation. You also can’t just relax since he’d definitely have something to say about your reading choice…

“Are you waiting for…Doc?”

He lifts his head briefly, blinks twice, then goes back to typing on his phone.

“Nope.”

“Okay…”

Two minutes seem to pass with you trying to figure out what he’s still doing in your room and how to ask him that, politely.

While figuring that out, along with his distraction, you take the time to drink in every inch of his face. And it’s like he hasn’t aged a bit. With the pink LEDs on him, he looks…ethereal. His nose still has that distinct slope, his sharp eyes, thick eyebrows, perfectly sculped jaw and cheekbones and his lips…Oh God his lips…Sixteen-year-old you is squealing right now.

You know it.

She’s ecstatic to have Park Jimin just casually hanging out with her in her room, listening to her music, sitting on her bed, his chest touching your feet under the blanket as he rests his head on his fist, held up by his elbow.

You’re far from relaxation with him around…Quite the opposite, really.

He takes out something from his pocket and brings it up to his lips. You yelp, acting on impulse as you grab it from his hands.

“You can’t vape in here!”

Genuine confusion settles on his face, eyebrows furrowed, “why not? Doubt it would set off the smoke alarm.”

“No,” you sigh, holding it back when he tries to reach for it, “I don’t allow smoking in my room, if you wanna smoke—” you gesture to the balcony “—go outside.”

His mouth quirks to the side, “it’s too cold out there. Plus, it’s cherry flavor…your favorite.”

You feel your cheeks heat up.

Clearing your throat, you toss the vape in his lap, shooting him a warning glare before he finally decides to set it back inside his pocket. He goes back to typing on his phone, head hanging off the edge of the bed.

“You…What are you doing here? I thought you just wanted to use the restroom?”

He shrugs, “yeah, but it’s better in here.”

Even if you are flattered by those words, still, that’s not a valid explanation since he’s invading your alone time.

“Yeah, but shouldn’t you be hanging out with…Doc, Julian and them? How long has it been since you saw the rest of the guys?”

He tilts his head to the side, lips curled in a smirk, “as long as it’s been since I saw you.”

It’s a little too hot in here…You reach for the remote to turn down the heating, head snapping in his direction when you hear him chuckle. He sits up on his elbows, head cocked to the side while your back is pressing into the headboard, avoiding his discerning stare.

“You know you haven’t changed a bit.”

Offended. Because you know you’ve changed. No more in your awkward teenage years. His last impression of you needs to be forgotten.

“I have.”

He clicks his tongue, running his fingers through his hair which is a habit he seems to have kept.

“Nah.”

“I have,” you challenge, annoyance spiking with his ignorant comment, “I haven’t seen you in eight years. It’s been eight years, of course I changed, not sure about you though.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “so you’ve been keeping count?”

You splutter, quickly finding your words again when he begins to laugh.

“It’s not that hard to count how many years it’s been since my sixteenth birthday, the day you left.”

“Ah, right,” he snorts, now crossing his legs in front of him as he faces you, “so it’s almost eight years since your birthday isn’t over yet.”

He remembers your birthday.

“Right.”

“Hmm.”

Even if Playboy Carti fills the silence, you’re still thinking of something else to say. While he stares you down with the same scrutinizing stare from earlier.

“Sooo…your dad said you plan on doing your practicals next year?”

His gaze shifts to your pink comforter, fiddling with his rings, “yeah, his plans. And you?”

“Graduating this year,” you smile, hands slipping under the blanket, “finally.”

“And Doc is still Doc,” he laughs, rolling onto his side.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “still a total…idiot.”

“Just with the official Doctor title now.”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze flickers up to his face, cheeks burning even hotter when you find his eyes skating up and down your figure, lingering on your thighs that peek out from under the skirt of your dress.

One thing he can’t deny – your body changed too. You’re no longer the little girl he can push around, the one who would cry over a minor bruise when he would be too rough with you. You’re a woman now.

“Doc must have his guns locked and loaded,” he laughs, eyes set on yours.

Your eyebrows pinch together, “hm?”

“I mean, there must be tons of guys after his sister now, so he’d have to be prepared.”

That makes you laugh out loud, so loud the music fades out for a second before you come back to your senses. Yes, you do get catcalled here and there, but once you open your mouth it’s over. Because no man wants a woman with strong opinions, right? – Your mother’s words.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you giggle, wiping away a stray tear, “nothing.”

“Is it funny that I think you’re pretty and there’s probably plenty of guys after you?”

You swallow, finding sincerity in his eyes. To be called pretty…by Jimin? The guy you had a crush on since you were ten years old?

He holds up his arms defensively, “I’m just saying, your boyfriend must be on guard.”

And he thinks you have a boyfriend…Wow. He overestimates you.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you say quickly, seeing him suck his lower lip into his mouth as he nods.

“Hmm, so what do you do with your days?”

“Study…read…hang out with friends,” you shrug, “pretty boring stuff since my days are packed. But I’m hoping this summer is fun.”

He leans forward, “it will be fun, since I’m around.”

“Really?! I mean—” you clear your throat “—you’re staying over for the summer?”

“Yep,” he pops the ‘p,’ scooting up on the bed and yanking the covers back, “it’s so col—”

Your eyes bulge out of your skull. Shit.

He holds up ‘The Guard’s Arrow,’ wearing a shit-eating grin, “this is what you read, huh?”

Surging forward, you try to get it out of his hands, heart pounding in your chest. But it’s far too late, the cover art itself just gave your deepest, darkest secret away. You look on with sorrowful eyes, hoping he wouldn’t spill your secret. But it’s far worse that he, himself, knows that what you spend your time reading are dirty novels. Feeding your desires in the form of words in the meantime…

Flipping the book over, he reads the summary at the back while the artwork of fingers dipping inside a very wet rose and stems to depict spread legs stare at you. You watch as a colorful display of emotions flash across his entertained features before he finally sets the book down and dares to speak.

“So you enjoy reading…erotic novels?”

You bury your face in a nearby plushie, groaning into the fluffy material.

“Shit, I’m sorry, okay?” He yells, “I just find it…fascinating.”

“Fascinating?” You squeak, bordering on tears, “how is it fascinating?”

He holds the book close to his face, “is this supposed to be a—”

Yanking the book out of his hands, you fling it under your bed, “I think you should go now.”

“Wait,” he laughs, grabbing your knee insistently, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I watched all three of the Fifty Shades movies, did you?”

“I read the books and they weren’t even that goo—”

You clamp your mouth shut, seeing his eyes shimmer with newfound interest.

“So, you’re actually a really…dirty girl if you think Fifty Shades wasn’t good.”

“I—” A shiver runs down your spine hearing him call you ‘dirty,’ “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

His eyebrows lift, and you know that the more you speak, the deeper hole you’ll dig for yourself.

“Just—” you screw your eyes shut, hands clasped together, “don’t tell anyone. Please. Don’t tell Doc.”

He presses a hand over his heart, rings glinting in the hot pink lighting, “of course I won’t. Haven’t I kept secrets for you before?”

You chew on your bottom lip, nodding coyly at the mention of other secrets you share but won’t mention.

“Yeah, so my lips are sealed,” he ensures, both hands splayed across your bare knees now, “but I just wanna know…isn’t it boring to read? When the real thing is out there?”

You suck in a sharp breath, “I love reading, and I prefer to conjure up the images myself rather than watch people bang it out on the screen with no passion.”

He grins, a short laugh leaving his lips, “I wasn’t talking about porn.”

“Oh? Then what are you talking about?”

As if it couldn’t go any higher, his eyebrows raise up to his hairline, “I said the real thing…As in you know? Real sex? Hooking up with someone?”

It’s difficult for you to hold eye contact at this point, stuttering through your words while he giggles and laughs at your flustered reaction.

“Told you,” he chuckles, pinching your cheek softly, “you haven’t changed a bit.”

You might know what he’s talking about this time, and you can’t argue with that.

Twenty-three years old – and you haven’t been kissed yet. Haven’t experienced any form of intimacy except that one time you hugged that one guy after class when he was moving to another country, it felt intimate but it may not count since you were just friends.

That hasn’t changed since the last time you saw Jimin and he knows it. You can tell by the way he’s looking at you now, but that gaze itself, has changed. You would hate the way he looked at you, just his best friends annoying, little sister.

But now…it’s different. More searching, inquisitive, and lustful.

It makes your heart skip a beat.

“So you read these books to fill that void?”

“I guess so,” you mumble into your shoulder, “is it even considered a void?”

“It depends,” he hums, moving back as he examines your face, “do you feel like it’s something you need?”

“What? Sex?”

He nods, eyes serious and clinical this time, “yeah.”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you find yourself wanting it sometimes?”

“I can’t want something I never experienced,” you breathe, wondering if it’s the champagne that has you so loose-lipped.

“Good point…then, do you find yourself wanting more? For example, when you’re kissing someone, do you wish you could take it further?”

You toy with the strings holding up your dress, “kissing?”

“Yeah.”

“I…” You cover your face with your hands, “this is so embarrassing!”

He pries your hands away from your face, voice as soothing as his gaze, “it’s just me! Jimin! Remember? Even if we haven’t seen each other in a while, it’s still us!”

Swallowing thickly, you smile, sounding out the words in your head before finally breaking it to him.

“I’ve never…kissed anyone before.”

Somehow, his eyes go blank and for once, you can’t read him, gaze drifting from his eyes to his mouth for any indication as to how he’s feeling.

“Jimin?”

“You’ve…never been kissed before?” He says robotically, as if the idea is so alien to him which has you shrinking in on yourself.

“I know, okay!”

“Why?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “why? What do you mean ‘why’?”

“I mean why didn’t you kiss anyone before? I’m sure there were plenty of opportunities for you.”

There he goes again.

“I just haven’t found anyone worth kissing yet! And all the guys on campus suck! Doc’s friends suck! Plus, I don’t really go out much which is entirely my fault and I know if I do I’d meet someone and I’d be down to you know…get down and dirty with them. It’s not like I’m saving myself for the one or anything…I just don’t go out of my way to get it and roll with the universe, and it seems like the universe doesn’t want me to lose my virginity anytime soon so like I said, I’m just gonna roll with whatever the universe throws me…”

He blinks.

You realize that you rambled.

“Sorry for rambling but I just…hope you understand.”

“You know you’re cute when you ramble.”

He’s a lot closer than you last remembered, his breath like hot puffs on your cheeks. It also doesn’t help that his lips gets glossy as his tongue darts out. You’re leaning back on your palms as he moves closer and closer, stomach twisting with want.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you—” he takes his lower lip between his teeth, whispering “—do you touch yourself?”

Everyone masturbates, right? It’s normal. Why should you lie?

“Yes.”

Your voice sounds more like a squeak, heart beating a thunderous rhythm. He seems pleased by your answer, cheeks puffing up.

“How?”

“W-What?”

His thumb brushes your cheek and your freeze, eyes fluttering shut with the simple yet heart-staggering touch. It makes you wonder what else he could make you feel…

“How do you like to touch yourself?”

“With my hand…”

He grins, “I know, but how? Do you lay on your back, your stomach…?”

“Oh,” you giggle, head pressing into the pillow behind you, “on my back…when I use my fingers but sometimes I…”

“Sometimes?”

You shut your eyes as you say the next few words out of diffidence.

“Sometimes I like to grind on my…pillow.”

“I bet you do,” he growls, his voice lowering to an octave you never heard before, nearly unrecognizable. And you find it incredibly sexy. “I bet that clit gets all puffy and swollen and you cum all over your pillow hm?”

Your pussy clenches, arousal brewing in your lower abdomen. And you want more.

“Mhm, I’m really sensitive.”

“Yeah? Can I ask you something else?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let me kiss you?”

It feels like your ears might be deceiving you, something out of your dreams. Park Jimin asking if he could kiss you? Your first kiss?

His eyes are half-lidded, lips parted as he awaits your answer.

Fuck it.

“Yes.”

Eyes shifting to the side, he hunches over you so you’re laying flat on your back, anticipation building as his chain dangles over your face. God, he’s so hot. He dips into the fresh cream, giving you no warning as he smears the cream across your lips and chin. You whimper with the cool texture settling on your face, waiting with bated breath as he lowers himself onto your trembling frame.

The weight of his body pinning you to the bed is something you never knew you’d enjoy, consuming you with each passing minute. You can’t believe this is happening, something out of a fever dream as his lips kiss your skin.

“Jimin—” you gasp, feeling the first brush of his lips against your chin as he licks up the cream to the corner of your mouth, drawing little pants from your gaping mouth.

He takes your wrist and guides your hand to the front of his shirt, asking you to hold onto him as he covers the other corner of your mouth with his. The feeling of his tongue, so wet and warm, licking off your face has you short-circuiting, and nothing could prepare for when he finally captures you lips with his, so lost in the feel of him that you register the taste of cream and cherries after he pulls away. Pecking your lips softly before angling his head perfectly and taking your lips between his, tongue clashing lewdly as you’re trying to gather your wits and kiss him back. Thinking of everything you’ve read – slipping your fingers into his hair, tilting your head in the opposite direction, giving the same amount of tongue you receive until your lungs burn for air and he’s pulling away, your jaw caught in his hand.

If you thought he sounded different before, then his voice after he catches his breath is something you will never forget.

“Sure you haven’t kissed anyone before?”

You’re at a loss for words, crinkling the front of his shirt in your fist as he covers your mouth with his lips again. His taste so intoxicating, his movements hypnotic and him. Just him. This is probably far better than the way you imagined your first kiss. He’s pressing into you, kicking your legs apart, heat building right there – but there’s no pressure. It throbs, and you moan as his tongue flicks against the roof of your mouth.

You’re trying to keep your sounds down, but you can’t help but moan, lips burning as he tugs on them with his teeth and then he’s reaching over to turn the music up, tugging at the strings on the front of your dress.

Subconsciously, you grab his hands, prompting him to move away.

“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, “I should ask first.”

But the top of your dress is already loose, and your plain pink bra with a bow right in the middle is peeking out. He takes it all in with greedy eyes, silently asking permission as he buries his head in the crook of your neck and his mouth on your pulse point – might be the second-best thing you’ve felt tonight.

If you couldn’t help your moans before, now you’re gasping for air, shivering as he trails wetly down the slope of your neck to suckle on your collarbones, nipping at the meat spilling from your bra.

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut when he peppers kisses across your chest and then his hands are slipping up your dress, bending your right leg at the knee then his lips are there, kissing up your inner thighs while you watch with blood rushing through your veins at four times the normal speed, body heating up when he smirks upon seeing your matching pink panties.

“You smell as sweet as the cream,” he groans, head disappearing under your dress, “bet your cream tastes even better.”

His knuckle drags up and down your clothed clit and all you can think of is how terrified but turned on you are to have someone else give you pleasure, vibrating when his hot breath hits your folds as he pushes your panties to the side.

Thank God you waxed this morning. Who would’ve thought that Park Jimin would return and ask if he can kiss you leading up to his head buried between your thighs? Certainly not you.

The breath gets knocked out of your lungs once you feel his hot tongue against your folds, back arching as he holds open your pussy with his fingers and delivers several broad stripes up your cunt, not giving you time to breathe. A thousand times better than your fingers.

“Jimin,” you moan, reaching down you grab his hair in both your hands, anchoring yourself to the bed as he continues to assault your pulsating clit, sighing when he teases the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue earning a whimper from your swollen lips.

He moans into your pussy, the vibrations shooting straight through you to have you fisting the sheets in one hand and keeping his head in place with the other. You keen as he grabs two handfuls of your ass and rocks you against his face, the thought alone of his tongue pressed into your dripping pussy has sparks flying up the length of your body, crying out his name as you feel the cool metal of his rings press into your heated flush before you’re seeing those same sparks behind your eyelids.

Cumming on his tongue with sharp spasms, mouth hanging open.

Slurping up your juices with loud squelches, you ride out your high by grinding on his pink tongue, sweat beading across your forehead.

“Fuck, how did that feel?”

You laugh breathlessly, “that felt…amazing.”

His hair is a mess, falling on his forehead which has him looking even sexier to you. In a burst of confidence, you wrap your arms around his neck and slot your lips into his, whining when he tugs on your lip with his teeth.

“Wanna take this further?” He husks, nosing up the column of your throat and that’s when you feel it – his cock, what you think is his cock, pressing into your thigh.

“How…further?”

His tongue traces the shell of your ear, goosebumps erupt on your skin with the action which he is quick to smooth away with his plump lips.

“Just the tip? I know it’s your first time,” he chuckles darkly, the sound inebriating to your ears, “let me stick in the tip only, please.”

You mewl as he rolls his hips into yours, already unzipping his pants. When he pulls out his cock – sorrel brown, thick, veiny and stick at the tip – you make up your mind. Somehow you want to do everything with him, what if this is your only chance.

“Just the tip, okay? You’ll be a good girl for me? Fuck, letting me have all your firsts huh?”

“Fuck, Jimin.” Your head tilts back, feeling him press his hot and heavy cock into your clit, tapping the tip there before rolling his hips back and forth in a slow drag, spreading your wet folds with his cock. “Yes.”

“Just the tip, baby, Oh fuck, you’re so tight.”

Gritting your teeth, you feel the bulbous head of his cock breach your walls, whimpering when he pulls out and pushes in the tip over and over again till you’re a moaning mess under him once again. The fabric of pants grazes your thighs, the collar of his shirt kissing your neck as his tongue rolls into your mouth, swallowing up your moans before he begins to rock at a rapid pace. Cock sliding up and down your folds before he sets the tip on your clit.

“So fucking hot,” he grunts, lips dragging into a snarl as he tosses his head back and kneels between your legs. You watch as he shivers and trembles, the veins in his forearms prominent as he fucks into his fist before he collapses onto you again, the shaft of his cock grinding into your clit which has your core tightening, clit even more sensitive from your previous orgasm.

Planting your feet on the mattress, you grind into him, feeling his cock twitch, “fuck your cock feels so good rubbing on my pussy.”

“Shit, gonna cum all over this wet cunt. Fuuuuck.”

His eyebrows furrow, whimpering into your mouth as you feel hot liquid spread across your belly with an angelic moan of your name, setting off your second high of the night as his cock stays flush against your pussy, grinding up into him to get out the most of that numbing orgasm.

He meets your gaze and you both burst into a fit of giggles, still catching your breath, but laughing it off as you recover from what just happened. With a light hand, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear,

His cheeks are flushed, lips a bright red and you wonder if you look as pretty as him, bathed in that post-orgasmic glow you read about.

“I never came that hard before,” he snorts, covering his eyes with his arm.

You blink, about to move closer to him when you feel his cum drying on your stomach. Grimacing, you sit upright and make your way to the bathroom, doing whatever you can to clean up the mess.

Some got on your dress but oh well, you’re going to shower in a bit anyway.

He’s sat up on your bed when you return, handing you his phone.

“You can…put in your number. I have a new number and…if I ask Doc for your number he’ll probably take the chance to play some stupid prank on me.” He gives you that same boyish chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chuckling lightly, you enter your digits and hand him back his phone, ignoring the weird feeling settling in your stomach at the thought that he wanted your number.

“You should uh—” you rub your arm, nodding toward the bathroom “—you should clean up.”

He cards his fingers through his hair, “yea—”

KNOCK KNOCK

“MUM’S CALLING! COME DOWNSTAIRS NOW! OPEN UP!”

With unspoken words, you and Jimin seem to share the same panic, rushing to fix your appearance while he cleans himself up and you’re still panicking. Panicking because your brother wouldn’t like the idea of…whatever happened a few moments ago.

What just happened a few moments ago?

Oh my God, you hooked up with Jimin? And not only that you had a bunch of your firsts with him? Holy crap.

“Hey, hey, how do I look? Good? Okay?” Jimin tilts his head from side to side, holding up his thumbs and completely oblivious to the internal battle you’re facing right now.

“OPEN UP!”

Jimin is about to unlock the door when you grab his arm, the sudden closeness too much for you. You take a step back, chest heaving.

“We can’t just open the door! You need to hide!”

Jimin shrugs, “it’s fine, I’ll just say I was using your toilet.”

“No,” you whisper-shout, “he’ll definitely know something is up!”

“No, he won’t,” he sniggers, grabbing you by the shoulders, “it’s totally fine. We used to hang out before.”

“Yeah,” you deadpan, “when we were kids. We’re adults now.”

“I don’t see the difference.”

Of course he doesn’t. Doc is your brother. Step-brother. You’d always have to face his unwarranted wrath.

“Exactly,” Jimin begins, eyebrow jumping, “you’re literally an adult now, you’re free to make your own decisions and fuck whoever you want.”

He spins around but you grab his hand, pleading with him.

“You cannot tell Doc.”

He sighs, “okay, I won’t.”

“I WILL BREAK DOWN THIS DOOR IF—”

The door flies open to reveal Doc and his gang waiting, their eyes zeroing in on Jimin who exits your room as cool as a cucumber.

“What the fuck were you doing in there?”

Locking your door behind you, you sprint passed them, hoping to dodge their confused stares and Doc’s endless questions.

“I needed to use the bathroom,” Jimin chuckles, “so ___ let me.”

Doc’s eyes narrow, catching Jimin under his bulky arm, “you do know we have like a thousand bathrooms in this house.”

“I know.”

The passage lights are bright and harsh compared to the lighting in your room. As if exposing you to the reality of the situation. You don’t want to think about it again, but you have no other choice when he’s right there. Speeding ahead of you with the rest of the guys while one thought remains.

A nagging thought.

Arm around your brother’s shoulders, Jimin tilts his head to shoot you a wink, a wink that’s reminiscent of the one he gave you earlier. The throb between your legs returns along with that incessant thought.

You want more. From him.

 It’s gonna be a long summer…

AHH okay this was just the beginning for them !! i hope you guys enjoyed this <3 please send in feedback, I would love to hear what you think !! ✉️

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© aquagustd 2021-2022 do not copy/repost/translate

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #bangtansorciere #btsgoldnet #bangtanbathhouse #bangtanarmynet #btsdreamcourt #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin x you #jimin fanfic #park jimin #park jimin x reader #park jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #jimin #park jimin x y/n #jimin x y/n

[darkelixirr]

You're Mine. - Park Jimin

Just a little jealousy...

♡pairing: jealousy!jimin x fem!reader ♡rating: explicit!mature 18+ ♡genre: SMUT ♡wc: 1.3k

You and Jimin out with friends. Spending time with each other, laughing and enjoying the many conversations. He can't seem to keep his hands to himself. Always groping at your thighs, his hands going to where you need them the most.

"Jimin.. Please.." You whisper low enough for him to hear. A chuckle leaves his lips. You know he heard you, the grip on your thigh told you that. But he continued on his conversation with his friends. Ignoring the neediness in your voice.

You couldn't help but spread your legs, begging him silently to touch you. To ease the ache between your legs. You leaned back in your seat, a deep breath emitting from your lips as you squeezed your thighs together.

"So, how has it been?" You looked up, plastering a smile on your face.

"It's been g-good." Jimin tightened his grip on your thigh.

"We should hang out some time, together alone you know." You hummed, a tight smile on your face. You glanced over at Jimin. His face was stern, his eyes never leaving the boy in front of you. You placed your hand on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He let out a deep breath, straightening his posture.

You felt his hand move up your thigh, your skirt bunching up around his waist. You let out a shaky sigh. His fingers grazed over your exposed pussy, a smirk playing on his face.

"You're mine."

#jimin fic #jimin imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts jimin #jimin series #jm fanfiction #jimin x y/n #jimin x oc #park jimin fanfic #jimin x you #pjm smut #pjm x reader #bts o7

[jung-shook-iieee]

Darkside 2 | PJM

➳ pairing: Jimin x reader

➳ rating: M (gore violence, implied dubcon.)

➳ genre: arranged marriage au, dark themed.

➳ summary: after the demise of your father, you were forced to marry a mob boss who was a decade older than you. Jimin has always been ruthless and marrying someone like him wasn't your first choice, but living with him made you crave for his attention. For getting his attention you were repeatedly acting out until one day he decided to take the matter in his own hands.

➳ warnings: spanking, fingering ( not much described), use of curse words, orgasm denial, gore violence, slight exhibition, dark themed, implied dubcon, reader se def scared of jimin, jungkook is fucking sexy you know? And jimin is in full daaddy mode lmao, overall it's really fucked up and dark and yeah it's a 18+ so if you feel uncomfortable do not read further.

➳ word count: 5k , (pt.ii) ( pt i)

Masterlist

➳ a/n: woah, it took me so long to post it but yk my exam is tomorrow and i don't know what the fuck I'll write but here is it so enjoy? And i haven't proofread it so genuinely sorry for any grammer mistakes. ( I know this story is fucked up so don't come at me. Okay?) Reblog if you like it tho. <3333333

➳ PARK JIMIN YA'LLLLL

➳ a/n2: I do not support this kind of activities in general, it's just a fiction and I do not own anybody. Please understand the difference between fiction and reality. And please enjoy. &lt;33

You could hear them downstairs. The men your husband had over. It seemed like there was two-three of them, plus your husband. Drinking alcohol and talking in low voices. Probably going over some illegal deal - not that you cared. You took a deep breath and looked down at your outfit for the night - a lacy black nighty with a plunging neckline - sinfully short too, with the hemline barely brushing against your upper thighs. You knew if you bent down, it would leave nothing to the imagination. And panties? Who needed them?

Slowly, you made your way down the stairs, each step feeling more excited than the last. You had never really disobeyed Jimin so blatantly before. A part of you, despite everything, was still scared of the big bad mob boss he was. But a larger part of you was irritated by his apathy, how he acted like you didn't even exist. At this point, you'd do anything to get somekind of reaction out of him - which is why you were in your current state.

The cold air hit you hard when you entered the living room. The serious chatter between the men seemed to cease almost immediately as you slowly made your way across the room, not sparing any of them a glance - not even Jimin. You made sure to wink your hips with every step, knowing that every single eye in that room was currently on you - even Jimin

You made your way into the kitchen, exhaling the breath you'd been holding in. You hadn't thought too far ahead with your plan, but decided to grab the leftovers of ttaekboki, since you didn't get to eat it properly.

You could hear them chuckling and whispering to each other until one's voice chimes in, " Well Mr. Park, who's she? Is she your whore? " You wrinkled your nose in disgust. These men were sure not from the local or else they would've known you. No men dared to look at you, let calling you a whore alone.

" You gotta introduce her to us man, I bet she must be good that's why you're keeping her around. Huh? " Another unfamiliar voice chimed in. God why  the hell Jimin even invited them over? Shitty perverts.

" I'm his wife and hello to you too. " You said casually leaning over the marble top giving them a show. Even though the lights were dim in the kitchen but still they could see your cleavage. It was cold, your nipples were poking out from the silk material.

You dared to make eye contact with Jimin and you could've sweared your blood ran cold just from his gaze only. He's a master in controlling his facial expressions but the way he was eyeing you up and down with cold,stoic expression on his face told you that he was beyond pissed. His fist was clenched tight, turning white and your coy smile instantly faded.

You regretted coming down, yes, you did and you were about to stood back quickly when suddenly Jimin stood up and smiled at you, the kind of smile which told you that you fucked up. He started walking towards like he's going to beat the shit of you.

" Excuse me everyone, this is my wife. Park Y/N." He said smoothly and walked beside you. He roughly pulled you by your waist more close. A squeek left your mouth and you did not dared to look him in the eyes.

He tugged you forward walking towards the guest. "It seems like my wife is definitely confused because I clearly told her that she isn't allowed to come downstairs. But -" He paused, and you stuck your chin up and gave him the biggest glare you could muster up.

But unfortunately for her, she's disobeyed me." Jimin finished, looking at you and reaching out and grabbing your wrist roughly. The calmness in his demeanour was making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but you'd sooner die than give away that you were definitely scared. You tried to twist out of his death grip but to no avail. And he was literally crushing your wrist with how hard he was holding it.

" Let go of me. " You hissed at him, knowing full well that you were basically putting on a free show for everyone else in the room, and they were hanging on to every word you spoke. Jimin didn't even spare you a glance.

"So, you gentlemen will have to excuse me while I go see to my wife. As you can see, she's being a bratt and needs disciplining. Jungkook, take some more beer out for these guys. They'll sit and wait while I finish with her, won't you?" asked his right hand guy and othrs, except you knew it wasn't really a question.

" Sure park we understand it would be so nice if you would tame her in front of us. It would be a sight to behold. " One of them said adjusting his bulge. He had the audacity to say this to jimin and you wondered why jimin only smiled at him. It wasn't the nicest smile of his, which definitely gave you goosebumps.

Jimin said something to jungkook in foreign language, something only which jungkook understood and smirked.

The whispering drowned in the background as jimin started dragging you roughly towards his room. The look on his face was unreadable, regarding His actions his expressions were calm. The grip on your wrist kept getting tighter and your heart was thudding out of your chest.

Let go of me, you fucking jerk!" You swore, wiggling around, your small fists landing on his muscular back. Your small fist's punch would probably doing nothing to his built body. You felt embarrassed as everyone eyed you shamelessly while your own husband dragged you like some sack of potatoes.

" FUCKING LEAVE MY HAND YOU ASSHOLE. " You swored again as you entered his bedroom and surprisingly he did. With a blink of an eye he pushed you roughly on the bed making you whimper from the harsh act.

" Fuck you bastard you're so fucking crazy they were calling me whore and you yourself treated me like one in front of them. How fucking dare you. " You spat every word laced with venom, Your nose was flaring up, You tried to get up, planning to storm out of his room and run into yours and lock the door and just get the fuck away from him.

Easily, jimin overpowered you, roughly pushing you back down onto the bed when you tried to make a run for it. And again, you tried to get up, because fuck if you'd let this man get the best of you. You attempted to shove him aside, except he was built like a brick wall and didn't budge an inch. That was when he grabbed your jaw roughly, jerking your face forward to meet his gaze.

"Keep fucking talking, you dumb bitch, I dare you." He hissed, his thumb and forefinger pressing so hard into your skin, enough to bruise. It got your eyes tearing. No one ever in your life has treated you like this.

" If you keep acting up like this y/n then I'll have to do something really bad. " He threatened by pressing you harder against the mattress, he hovered you, arms on both sides and trapping you in between. He was looking down at you so dangerously.

" Fuck you. " You seethed through clench teeth and wriggled more vigorously. You scratched jimin's neck in the process, blood started trickling down his neck but you did not felt sorry for him instead you again aimed to scratch there but this time jimin slapped you across the cheek.

It left you stunned. You did not dared to turn your head the other side. " You have the fucking audacity", began quietly, face inches away from yours, "To parade around downstairs in this fucking clothes, acting like you're a free piece of ass. I don't know if you're asking for it, or just plain fucking stupid."

" Bastard. " You said in low voice, your throat was sore from all the shouting earlier.

" And that filthy mouth of yours. Damn! Y/n you just annoy the shit out of me sometimes. " He continued. "And to think I was going easy on you all this time. Excusing your behaviour 'cause you're young and stupid." He shook you, hard. "Not anymore. You're a fucking spoiled little rich brat, and clearly your daddy didn't fucking think it was important to teach you some manners and respect."

And before you knew jimin manhandled you, You scratched and clawed to try and escape his grasp, but in two seconds flat he was sitting on the side of his bed with you over his knee, your thrashing legs pinned underneath his strong thigh. Red hot embarrassment coursed through your veins - how dare he put you over his knee like this! In a position so demeaning?

" Let go of me jimin I swear -"

You were cut short when you felt his hand on your ass. His rough, calloused palm stroked the silky material of the chemise that barely concealed your bare skin, and involuntarily you sucked in your breath sharply. What the fuck was he doing?

" You should have been disciplined a long time ago but looks like your daddy was a shit huh? " He chuckled, how could he even dare to insult your dead father. " He clearly did not bothered to teach you some manners? " He caressed your flesh over the silk material.

" Shut your fucki-" He did not even let you finish and suddenly grabbed the soft flesh roughly And you couldn't help but gasp - both at his touch and at the jolt you felt between your legs. What the fuck. No. Fuck no. This wasn't happening. He continued to fondle your ass, touching you as if you were a piece of meat on display. " How about I teach you some fucking manners my dear wife? " He asked Mockingly.

" You're fucking sick." You gasped, determinedly ignoring the way your pussy clenched at his words. With all your might, you tried once more to wiggle out of his grasp. Your motions ceased immediately when his palm cracked down on your ass. Hard. And you cried out in both pain and shock.

"You try and move one more time, and I'll use my fucking belt." jimin warned, the threat making your mouth run dry. You immediately fell limp against him, breathing hard from fighting this losing battle. Fuck him. Fuck him for taking you over his knee and spanking you like you were a child. You hung your head, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears of anger and embarrassment at bay.

That's more fucking like it." Jimin said, once more going back to squeezing your stinging ass, as if to rub salt on the wound. You bit your lip at the pain, and debated calling for help. And it seemed like he could read your mind: "And by all fucking means, yell and scream all you want. The door's wide open, princess. They can all hear you. But if you think anyone's coming to save you, you're dumber than I thought."

"You... You can't do this." You said, voice breaking but still having a bit of fight left in you.

Jimin lifted the flimsy material of the chemise, exposing your ass to his cold stare. "That's where you're wrong, princess. I can do this. I'm the only fucking one who can do this. And you're gonna take it. Because you deserve it. You deserve to be punished for flaunting your fucking body as if it's not already been claimed."

SMACK

The first hit sounded like the crack of a whip, and stung just as bad. You couldn't help but cry out in pain, knowing you were giving him the very reaction he wanted from you. And how you wished you were stronger, calmer, cooler, more collected. You wished you hadn't given him the satisfaction of hearing your cries of pain. But it hurt like a bitch. So then why could you feel the wetness pooling between your legs?

And it was like Jimin was unleashing hell on your ass, with smack after smack raining down angrily onto your sensitive skin. It was like all his hatred rested in the palm of his hand, which cracked down against your ass with full force, making you scream every time it did.

" Dumb fucking slut." He said through clenched teeth, the spanks never ceasing as he continued to talk. "And to think I felt sorry for you. For being forced into this. To think I left you alone. Didn't say shit when you were in my house, -"

As he was talking to you, you heard a loud series of cries, which immediately made you stiffer. You instantly clutched his biceps because you were scared. You did not know the source and the cries only grew louder along with a sound of hitting something very hard to be precise.

" Jim- is- down- who........ " You mumbled being scared of those atrocious sounds.

" Y/N focus on me. " Jimin ordered with an authority and you couldn't deny him so you nodded your head. Still scared you started sobbing softly.

He grabbed your hairs and pulled you backwards towards him, " Don't ever dare to cut me in between. No one have that power over me got that? " He tugged it harshly making you cry loudly.

" Answer baby....? " He again tugged it.

" Ye-s.... Y-es.. Please I'm so-rry. " You begged. All the faint arousal you felt till now vanished in a blink. You weren't aroused now, not even a bit. You were plain scared. Scared of what might happening downstairs.

" Good, so where was I? Huh I was saying you using my credit card, acting like a spoilt little bitch. Complaining about everything under the fucking sun. And you think you could keep your fucking act for long huh? " He completed his sentence and smacked your butt hard.

To be honest you couldn't focus on jimin properly because the loud muffles and cries could be heard real fucking good from downstairs. And jimin noticed that and he wasn't really happy about it.

He told you to focus on him. Didn't he? But you being the spoiled brat pissed jimin even more.

This time he spanked you really hard, which left you howl in pain.. Wriggling around furiously, you faint sobs turned into ugly ones. " It fucking hurts pleaseeeee. " You begged with whatever energy was left within you.

" Good it should fucking hurt. I told you to focus on me did not I? " He turned you around and manhandled you onto your knees. Your face was red, eyes puffy, lips swollen from all the harsh tugs you gave yourself to keep quiet. " But you had your fucking focus on anything but me. " He wrapped his hands around your neck and squeezed tight. "L-eav-ee.. So-rr-.. Pleas-" The oxygen was cutting, your eyes we're rolling back.

Jimin released your throat giving you a light slap on your cheek. He took in your condition for a good two minutes. And within those two minutes you felt exposed, embarrassed, self conscious and what not. Anyone in your place right now would want to jump from the cliff, he turned you into this condition of yours. He was the reason why you felt ashamed and pathetic.

Jimin stood up from the bed and fixed his obvious bulge, he raked his fingers through his hairs and patted your hair. " Come on stand up. " He helped you in getting up. He wiped your cheeks with his hand, pushed back all the strands of hair which were covering your beautiful face.

" Not so sassy now, are you? " He taunted while sucking his lower lip between his teeth. That coy smile was taunting you. He leaned down and kissed your cheek. Then took your small hands into his and started walking towards the stairs.

" I - need to- chan-ge.. Pleas-ee. " You somehow managed to say that, even though your mind was telling you to keep your mouth shut. Jimin laughed, throwing his head back., " Why now? You should have used your little brain before baby but don't worry now they won't mind. " He said and dragged you downstairs even though you struggled to stay back.

You were feeling scared as jimin dragged you downstairs, the smell instantly hit you, making you nauseous. The iron smell was so strong that it was surely blocking your senses. 1...2...3...4....steps and then you entered the hall. You screamed so loudly that all the heads in the room turned towards you.

No, it must be a dream. The sight in front of you was too disturbing to see. There was a pool of blood on the floor, jungkook's hands were bloody, but the blood wasn't of him. His hair were messy, a few buttons from his shirt were ripped off, other guards were also in the same condition.

Those three men who insulted you were on their knees, fucked out, beaten into a pulp, they were shivering and covered in their on blood.

You unconsciously tried to take a step back but then you remembered jimin was next to you. He quickly tightened his grip over your arms and dragged you forward. You started crying, you were feeling dizzy and felt like vomiting when your feet came in contact with the cold yet warm blood.

" Please, please, please, don-t do this.. I want to go back please ji-min.. " You begged, hell you would beg a hundred time more right now. Fuck your self respect you just want to go back to your room, hide under the covers and cry.

" Sshh baby, you should not cry... They deserved it. You remember how they called you names. Don't you? " Jimin cooed at you, stroking your back while maintaining the tight grip over your arms.

" They dared to disrespect you, my wife. But don't worry I'm still not finished with them. " Jimin chuckled and roughly dragged you towards the couch, so you could get a perfect view of jungkook's art.

To be honest it was the most jimin had ever spoken to you, and you never wished to see him like this.

He sat on the couch and made you sit on his lap. You were scared to death. You were shivering, not because of the cold but because of the fear. Sweat was trickling down your forehead and neck but you couldn't utter a word right now.

" So, what we're you saying noah? Repeat your words.! " Jimin whispered said to one of the men who insulted you. The guy was literally unconscious, he couldn't even open his eye properly. When the guy did not replied jungkook grabbed his hair and shook his head sideways. Thr lateral groaned in pain.

" Say something buddy, I'm waiting.!! " Jimin said as he fumbled with your nighty straps. You were traumatized, couldn't utter a word, the tears were continuously flowing down.

" Bas-t-ar-d. " The guy barely said and instantly received a punch from jungkook. The action made you shriek loudly. You did not want to be here. Even if those guys called you a whore, you don't want them to die.

" Shut up will you? I'm talking right here ain't I?? " Jimin grabbed your chin and turned his side harshly, you Whimpered as you looked into his eyes. They were emotionless, this jimin right here, in front of you was different.

" m'sorr-y.... Please. Please. Jus-t... I won-t do that again. Please. " You begged, with your hands joined in front of him.

" I will let you go princess, but we have to give them a show. They're our guest. Sit pretty and listen to me now. Won't you? " Jimin pecked your lips as he cooed at you. Stroking your wet cheeks with his thick fingers and pushing back the hair from your face.

" No. No-No... Pleas- No. " Your eyes widened, you cried loudly and struggled against his body. You were trying to get up but jimin easily held you in place.

" Sshhh... You don't want me to fuck you on the floor. Now would you? " Jimin warned and in one quick movement he tore the lace material off your body. You screamed and cried, he was being inhuman. How could he do these things in front of other people?

" Come on y/n, jungkook did so much for you! He deserves a show as well. Would you like that jeon? " He asked from the brown hair boy sheepishly.

" Anything you want Hyung. " The boy replied with a smirk on his face and jimin signaled the other guards to leave the place.

" I swe-ar i would not dis-obey you again. Jimi-n please dontt do th-is... Please. I promise I Will li-ssten to you. Promise.. Please just don-tt. " You furiously begged, at the moment you would do anything to change your husband's mind. But it was too late he already started separating your legs roughly, and flicked your nipples with other hand.

He stopped and looked at you, " See, princess? See how easy it is for me to break you? To reduce you to a crying mess?" He stroked his finger against your cheek, gathering the salty tears that were drying against the soft skin. His touch was feather-soft, intimate. And you felt so humiliated, so defeated, so conflicted - and now it confused you why he was being so gentle.

You sniffled. No other man had ever reduced you to feeling like a humiliated, kicked puppy. "I was just... I just... Please." It was like you couldn't gather yourself, couldn't tame your thoughts which seemed to be running every which way.

Jimin's hand slowly slid down your thighs and ghosted over your pussy. " Don't cry baby this will only teach you a lesson. You thought I was some local mafia? On whom you could shout, blame, curse anytime? No baby, I'm the fuckin king. " Jimin stated as hi flicked your clit lightly. You weren't in your senses right now, you couldn't believe your eyes and ears.

You audibly gasped, the sudden direct contact making you almost convulse forward into his chest. You grabbed a fistful of his white shirt, scrunching your eyes shut and wishing to God that maybe he will stop tormenting you, that maybe he could feel pitty for you.

" You're soaking baby..... You really are crazy my lady. " Jimin fake gasped, easing a thick finger into your pussy. And you cried into his chest, hating that after beating the living shit out of your ass, and scaring the daylights out of you this man had casually just began fingering you and it felt so fucking good. You prayed he or jungkook wouldn’t notice when you began to slowly hump against his finger, wanting to create more friction. He chuckled, “You’re a naughty fucking slut, aren’t you? All riled up and on edge, wet from all this mess in front of you, Now you want your daddy to take care of you, don’t you?”

You were too ashamed to reply, your face still buried in his chest, your tears staining his shirt and your lips bitten raw from trying to suppress your moans. Jimin added another finger and increased his pace, his thumb finding your clit and causing you to cry out. He smirked, “Who knew how easy it was to get you to shut your mouth. You got nothing to say anymore, baby? Where’s my little wife who loves to run her mouth, huh? Where’s she gone?”

Please,” You mewled softly, arching your back from the mounting pleasure, his fingers curving upwards and brushing against all the right spots. His thumb expertly massaged your clit, as if he knew your body, knew exactly how it worked. As if this wasn’t the first time he was touching you down there. “Please, I just…”

Immediately, jimin pulled his fingers out of you, your pussy making a squelching sound – as if it was trying to keep his fingers inside you. The heightened pleasure you were feeling instantly died down, and you cried out in indignation, “Wh-What! No! Please!” You gripped his forearm, “Please!”

“You don’t deserve shit after that stunt you pulled earlier baby.” jimin said simply. His eyes trailed towards the three barely alive body's and on jungkook who was no doubt enjoying the show and then back at you. He sighed, his fingers, soaking with your juices, now absentmindedly playing with the lacy borders of your ruined nighty which now sat bunched up around your waist. “You ruined my meeting, sweetheart. And now, you’ve distracted me.”

You swallowed harshly when he took your hand, placing it on top of his clothed dick. God, he was so hard. Painfully hard.

" Clean up the mess jungkook, will you? " Jimin said standing up, straightening the creases he got over his trousers.

" Don't kill them yet, I want them alive. Move to basement and I'll be there shortly. " Jimin ordered jungkook and the boy nodded in response like a fucking robot. He too had no emotions no guilt in his eyes and body language. They all are beyond your imagination.

Your husband turned towards you and offered you a hand, " Come baby, you still got to learn so much. I'll make sure everything stays in your pea size brain. " Words took a few seconds to register in your mind. It's not the end, he still has so much in his mind. How will you survive this?

YOU HAD ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING IDEA.!

.

Taglist

@hoseokteardrop @screamertannie @hopeonthestreet67 @qttp365 @taeluv13 @favfanfictsbts @elayne321 @kooookie @sweetwolfcupcake @vvh0adie @yellabella77 @bri-mal @g-o-bs--fanfictions @miyaohyeahh @dearbambideer @emojkluvr @abcbabcba @stannorr @realhotficshit @sweetlovesjk @kookieboo @sublimekidoafknight @bonny-kookoo @aliceaflor5-blog @kookiecrumb @jjkeverlast @prettyghost @kooliv @gimmethatagustd @pb-n-juju @aslias17 @ririlovesangst @taehyungseggs @dewamused @jungshook7 @moonfaery @fragmentof-indifference *sorry for the tags, trying to grow my community back. * :)

#jimin x reader #alternate universe #bts army #bts #jimin aesthetic #jimin smut #jimin packs #park jimin #jimin #bts jimin #park jimjn #park jimim #park jimin smut #park jimin scenarios #park jimin fanart #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin face #mafia jimin #tw: mafia jimin. #bts jimn #jimin noona #jiminnetwork #jiminnie #husband jimin #jimin filter #jimin fic #dark jimin #bangtan #bangtan jimin

[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ MEDICINES AND KISSES ﹗

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ pjm x fem!reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, angst 𓏧 jimin feels if you can't solve his jealousy, food can. even if it is an old lasagna which can get him food poisoning. ㅤ warnings food poisoning, vomiting ㅤ﹢ㅤ1.5k wc

“For the last time Jimin he is my friend and co-worker, why do you overthink everything?” you spoke in a calm voice trying to hide the frustration in your voice. For the last half an hour Jimin had been continuously arguing with you about your male co-worker who had mildly flirted with you in front of Jimin.

You didn’t think about it much deeply and just smiled along and seeing that Jimin has been boiling in jealousy. As soon as you reached home Jimin took up that topic and you have been arguing since, neither of you backing down from it. “You did not stop him, that is what is triggering me,” he said sighing loudly.

“Why do you care so much anyways, you don’t have feelings for me, remember that?" You reason, hands on your hips.

"We are arranged, Jimin as both of us have signed a piece of paper, go on and sign another paper, we get divorced, there’s no in-between!” You said and put your hands up in defeat, not in the mood to argue any more with him.

Jimin’s head hurt remembering at your words, the phrase ‘a single piece of paper’ going over his mind repeatedly. “You know what, nether am I,” he gritted his teeth and you slumped back on the sofa frustrated by his behaviour. “See there you go again, we are arguing on a point that doesn’t even matter now.”

Jimin stayed quiet silently letting your words process in his mind as he saw you getting up from the corner of his eye. You got up the stairs, to your shared bedroom and took out your pillow and a duvet. Flapping your slippers you went to the kitchen to get some water as your throat has dried after all that fight.

“We are going to talk this out, okay? We are not going to just fight like some toxic couple in high school,” you said breathing out as you looked down turning towards him. “Yeah, I guess I just lost all my appetite after this too,” he chuckled softly as he got up to get up to the bedroom.

“Guess, you will be sleeping here, okay I can understand that!” he said as you internally felt relieved about him being such a gentleman. After your marriage four months ago Jimin was nothing but sweet and understanding to you, he was constantly taking care of your needs and listening to your stories.

You got comfortable with him too, as you felt yourself being relaxed in his presence. But that was not it, your feelings grew towards him, as you imagined fantasies of you together. He still high-fived you, and gave plain hugs, he was more of like a best friend to you.

And you hated it, you loved his sweet and caring nature, and hated how all was just at a best friend level when you were practically married and legally bound to each other for life. Yet, he still showed no signs of being into you and everything, every frustration, heat, love just bubbled inside you causing you to burst occasionally, like for example today.

You hated it, you hated how you lashed out at him, and you hated because you knew, or thought, you overreacted. You didn’t want to be a couple who fought every time some little thing happen and you wanted to be the couple who gets through it.

Setting your thoughts aside, you looked at the watch, which showed perfectly midnight. “Oh great, at this time Cinderella was running away from that prince, would it kill you to make that happen for me?”

 You said this looking up as if you were talking to God and again spoke up, “you know the fall in love part, not the running away thingy,” and you pouted as you sat back. Taking one last look at your phone you set your head down on the couch slowly drifting away to sleep.

Meanwhile, Jimin came down sulking as he opened the refrigerator in the kitchen. Taking out a bowl of Lasagna, he picked it up and searched for a spoon in the kitchen. Finding it he murmured, “If she can’t touch my mind, this lasagna would help me refill myself, ugh!”

The next morning passed quietly, with only a quiet good morning from both of you to each other and a ‘bye’ as you left. The day was extremely slow, for the both of you and you just slumped back in the couch after having dinner as he went back in the bedroom.

Any other day, you two would have stayed up till like 2 a.m. chatting about your day and laughing and relaxing but today was all different. And surprisingly you didn’t fall asleep today, like you did yesterday and looking at the clock you found out it was 1.15 a.m.

Clutching your blanket you sat up, and suddenly you heard a thud in your bedroom. Without thinking anything you got up, and literally ran up the stairs as you clicked the door unlock when you heard a whisper, “please don’t go!”

“What the fuck is he saying?” you whispered as you opened the door, just to see a mess in the room. Pillows were thrown everywhere inside the room and the bedsheet was a mess, as Jimin tossed and turned murmuring to himself. You walked inside and climbed up the bed just for Jimin to get up in a jerk.

“Oh hey,” he couldn’t finish the sentence as he vomited all over your t-shirt making you gasp. You got concerned as you picked him up and carried him to the bathroom. You opened the tap water letting it flow as he vomited some more. You held back his long black hair as you caressed his back.

You tried to connect the dots, because you knew, Jimin didn’t drink and it was not that but food poisoning. Then you realized that you didn’t find the lasagna in the morning. That was when it hit you where it went, and what was coming out of Jimin.

As Jimin panted holding the bathroom walls and your hand. You hurriedly took off the shirt he was wearing and making him stand there you went inside to change. After coming out you gave Jimin a mouthwash and helped him come to the shared bedroom. You threw the dirty clothes inside the washing machine.

You made him sit and got up towards the door, only for him to speak up in a weak voice, “Don’t go please!” “I am just bringing my phone Jimin,” you spoke softly as you ran down the stairs. Throughout all this Jimin had watched you, how you were concerned for him, and how you didn’t get disgusted and left him alone but helped him instead.

You came back and closed the door and sat on the bed. Silence took cover between the two of you and you suddenly said, “You stupid, you ate that days old lasagna and look what happened to you.” Jimin smiled softly at your comment and scooted closer to you putting his arms around your waist.

You looked down, observing the flowered design the bed-sheet since the cover was taken off as Jimin vomited all over it. “Thanks for caring so much,” he whispered as he kissed you write below your earlobe. You sighed pushing him slightly and spoke with the slight anger in your voice.

“Why would you do that, huh? Eat that lasagna.” You said as you stared at him and then whispered, “What if something serious happened?” He loved the concern you were showing, knowing finally his feelings were not one-sided anymore. That would mean he can get to hug and kiss you any time without the hesitation he had before.

You punched his chest repeatedly saying, “You are a very stupid man,” and he laughed at your statement, his melodious laughter filling the room. “I would kiss you, only if I hadn’t vomited right about then,” he said and you replied, “I gave mouthwash to you, so you probably can,” and you couldn’t finish your sentence.

He placed his lips on your, his plump and soft ones, missing with you sweet, cherry ones. You traced your hand through his ‘Nevermind’ tattoo on his chest as you kissed him back. He pulled out smiling as he placed another soft peck on your lips as you two kept your foreheads together.

You caressed his bare back as he kissed your nose, you eyelids and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. You kissed him across his jawline down to his neck. The kisses were not rushed, but slow, sensitive and sweet, the one that are given by your lover after a long day. The kisses felt like heaven to you, as this was the first intimacy you ever had with him and everything just felt all so natural and ecstatic, as if this was just made for the two of you.

“I am your stupid man,” he said smiling and you said, “You forgot cheesy, stupid and cheesy and a ball of jealous idiot,” you giggled as he shut you up kissing you again, and you smiled inside the kiss. Maybe one wrong fight was all that was needed to lead to some right times.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤidiots in love? lol tysm for reading and liking the fic. reblog if you feel like supporting ^^ ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerrㅤmain mlistㅤ misc mlistㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist

© arafilez on tumblr. please don't copy and repost my work as your own

#ㅤ── ㅤara posts ㅤ𝜗𝜚 #bts x reader #bts #jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #jimin fanfic #park jimin bts #jimin bts #park jimin fanfic #jimin ff #park jimin ff #namjoon #jin #yoongi #hoseok #taehyung #jungkook #jimin fluff #jimin x female reader #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts x fem!reader #bangtan #bangtan x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fluff #˖ ⋈ ˚ ‹ bts › #𓂃 FIC : medicines and kisses 𒉽

[piedinthepiper]

Disease ˖ ⊹

Doctor!Jimin x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve had a sore throat for months now, good thing Doctor Jimin has a cure.

Warnings: dark content, dubcon ish, corruption, smut, mention of bullying, yandere?

Wc: 2.3 k

A/n: wrote a little something based on this request! Reader is innocent in the beginning, but throughout you will discover that she’s not innocent at all, but not in a sexual way… This is a great concept, but this is just so unserious. But I had to! It was right in front of me and I had to!

Another A/n: This is also written based on my firm belief that all doctors were pretentious nerds in high school. Because no one gets grades like that from actually having a life.

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I’m not a doctor, everything is off Google! Some technical terms might me wrong, don’t sue me! Also it’s a really stupid story, it’s pure fiction! If any doctor or medical personnel ever does this to you it’s not ok! Ok?

“Y/n y/l/n.”

Your name was heard throughout the waiting room. You smiled at the woman in scrubs, getting up from your seat to follow her. You clutched your bag to your side. Anxiously walking down the hallway.

“Dr. Park will be with you in a minute.”

She smiled as she stopped, holding the door open for you. You walked into the empty doctor’s office. She closed the door behind you, leaving you alone. You sat down in the chair, placing your purse carefully in your lap. You let out a deep breath. Being in a doctor’s office was just scary. You knew it was safe and all that. It was just something about giving a random person information about yourself that made you nervous. The sterile room that so many people had received bad news in. You were dreading the thought of you also receiving such news in that room. The possibility of not knowing if you’re terminally ill or if you just have a flu. Well, that was why you were there in the first place. The door opened, and your face turned in its direction.

“Good morning, ms. y/l/n, right?”

A sweet calming voice erupted from the man. You nodded and stood up to shake his hand. He sat down opposite of you, starting to click and type on his computer. You nervously looked down at your hands, waiting for him to talk again.

“I see you’ve had a sore throat for quite some time now. Is that the reason you’re here today?”

You looked back up at him again. He was leaning forwards on the desk on his elbows. His hands neatly put together.

“Yes, it’s like I’ve had a cold for months now. It just won’t go away.”

He nodded and typed something on his computer.

“Have you noticed any swelling in your lymph nodes?”

He asked still focused on the computer screen. You thought for a second.

“I don’t know, I haven’t checked.”

He nodded at your answer.

“Any peculiar or ugly coughs? Like slime coughs or even blood?”

“There was this one time where there were a little blood.”

He looked back at you, clearly concerned about what you told him.

“How much?”

You shook your head.

“Very little, it was more the taste of blood. Nothing visible.”

He went back to typing.

“And it was only once.”

You added, trying to make the whole situation sound a little better. It wasn’t even that bad, it was probably just because you had been coughing so much that day, your throat was so sore that a little cut appeared. But it was the reason you decided to go to the doctor in the first place.

“Ok, are you ok with me examining you a little?”

He asked calmly, his full attention back to you. You sighed but nodded. He got up from his chair and pointed to the bed looking thing with a long sheet of paper on it. You got up as well and followed him, jumping slightly to get up on it. You wiped your clammy hands on your jeans, trying your best to calm down. He put on white latex gloves and came over to you, positioning himself between your legs. You straightened your back a little.

“Look up for me.”

You did as asked and looked up at the ceiling. His gloved hands immediately went to your neck. Slightly pushing on the sides of it.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and you nodded slightly.

“Your lymph nodes are quite swollen actually. It’s weird that you haven’t noticed.”

He said as he quickly moved to your stomach. Your back quickly straightened even more at the sudden contact.

“Just relax for me, I don’t bite.”

He jokingly said. You let out a small laugh and tried your best to relax. He put pressure on your waist.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and looked you directly in your eyes while his hands roamed your waist. You shook your head, not trusting your voice. He stopped.

“Do you mind taking your sweater off?”

He asked calmly, looking down at where his hands were seconds ago. You panicked for a second, not knowing what to answer.

“Your sweater is quite thick, it’s purely so I can examine you correctly, ms. y/l/n.”

You nodded and started taking off your sweater.

“Of course.”

You mumbled as you pulled it over your head, leaving you in just a black bra. Goosebumps littered your skin at the sudden contact with the cold air. For a second you saw him looking at you, mouth slightly open. It made you uncomfortable, the look was not a professional one.

“Amazing.”

He said and licked his lip slightly before finding your waist again. You tried your best not to freak out at how close he was now. You felt so much more vulnerable now that you were half naked.

“Does it hurt now?”

He asked and did the same motion he did earlier. You shook your head again.

“Can you turn to the side for me?”

He almost whispered. You turned to the side, placing one leg at the floor for stability. You felt his hands slide up your back, pushing at some spots and asking if they hurt. You suddenly felt the cold touch of a stethoscope on your back.

“Breathe slowly in for me.”

You took a deep breath.

“Keep going, keep going for me, y/n.”

You breathed out once those words escaped his mouth. He didn’t say it like a doctor would. There was something behind it you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Try again.”

He uttered and you did. You managed to hold your breath.

“Good girl.”

He said as you breathed out again, making you cough.

“That cough doesn’t sound very good.”

He said as he stepped back into your view. You positioned yourself fully back on the bed.

“I’ll examine your mouth now, ok? Tell me if anything feels too uncomfortable.”

You nodded.

“Open up.”

You did as he commanded. He put two of his gloved fingers flat on your tongue.

“Wider, please.”

You opened your mouth as far as you could. He pointed a flashlight down your throat. Tears started forming in your eyes as his fingers almost choked you.

“Looks like you got some tonsils down there.”

His fingers slowly slid out of your mouth and you closed it and swallowed whatever spit had occurred during the examination. He started removing his gloves, throwing them in the nearest bin. He came back to you and placed himself close to you again. So close that it would be awkward to reach for your sweater that had fell to the floor.

“They’re not big enough to remove just yet. They might shrink if you do the right things.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to get a little bit of modesty.

“What do you recommend?”

You asked him.

“Take cough syrup and cough drops, drink as much warm beverages as possible.”

You sighed.

“But I’ve been doing that for months now, and it hasn’t helped as far as I’m concerned.”

You said and looked down, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him that close. He hummed in understanding, stepping slightly away. You took the chance to reach for your sweater again. But his arm stopped you. You sat back up, looking at him confused.

“There is another solution. It’s a bit- well. Unorthodox.”

“What?”

You asked, willing to do whatever he told you. You didn’t want to walk around with a constant sore throat for the rest of your life.

“Do you have a partner?”

He asked. You shook your head, still confused about where he was going with this.

“That’s a shame. You see, recent research has found out that fresh and warm semen can do wonders for a sore throat.”

You swallowed feeling the saliva sting your sore throat. You knew what he was aiming at, you weren’t dumb. Or at least you didn’t think so.

“Really?”

You asked, not convinced that he was actually asking you to blow him.

“Yeah, I’m a doctor, you can trust me.”

You nodded and stepped off the bed, hearing the thin sheet of paper slightly rip. You looked him in the eyes as you sunk down to the floor. Letting your hands drag down his body.

“Woah ok. Didn’t know you were that desperate.”

His hand went to your face as you positioned yourself on you knees.

“I’m just doing this to get better, alright?”

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll help you.”

He was quick to answer, almost eager. You started working on his belt, trying to get it done as quick as possible. Maybe you were dumb, maybe he tricked you to give him a blow job. The thought definitely crossed your mind. But like he said, he was a doctor, he knew this better than you. And after months of trying everything to cure your throat, you were willing to try just one more thing.

You pulled his half hard dick out, giving it a few pumps. It was a good size, even at its half hard stage. You were about to put your lips to it, but his hand reaches your forehead.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?”

He asked with a sly grin. You looked confused at him. He clicked his tongue, hissing slightly.

“Well, I don’t offer this to every patient that comes in with a sore throat. Maybe a thank you, a little begging for my help would work?”

You mentally cursed yourself, but you were too far in to back out now. You let one of your bra straps fall down your shoulder as you looked up at him with doe like eyes. Your hand started jerking him slowly.

“Please, Dr. Park. Please let me suck your cock. You’re the only one that can help my sore throat.”

His eyes changed from slyness to horniness at your words.

“Good girl, you deserve a cure for that throat.”

You kissed his tip.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Park.”

You said before your mouth covered his tip. You started sucking on it watching his face twist in pleasure.

“That’s it.”

He whispered as you swallowed his cock. His head turned to the ceiling, as a moan escaped his lips. You started bobbing your head up and down, not wasting any time and keeping a steady rhythm. His hands reached your hair, grabbing a fistful. He didn’t force you to go deeper, he just held your hair as some sort of stability for himself.

“I always knew you were a little slut. Sucking me dry in my office with other patients waiting outside.”

He started talking dirty once the initial pleasure wave was over. Swearing in between his words.

“I’ve waited for this for so long. Fuck- Ever since I first saw you I’ve wondered what those lips looked like around my cock.”

You choked at his sudden comment, his hand in your hair stopping you from removing yourself of said cock. You started going faster instead, wanting this to stop so you didn’t have to listen to his creepy speech.

“You remember me from high school right?”

You now realised you were very very dumb, as your mind raced through your memories from high school. Park Jimin, the nerdy weirdo in science class. You would always catch him stare at you, but you couldn’t remember ever speaking to him. Well, except for when you and your friends would call him names and break his glasses. He pushed his hips forward, making you choke again.

“Of course you don’t. You were too popular. But- shit. Look at me now.”

You looked up at him with teary eyes. His hand went from your hair to your cheek, and caressed it carefully.

“I made a shit load of money to have you sucking my dick today. Shit- I have the most gorgeous girl from high school blowing me right now. Finally.”

He started moving his hips, you knew he was close.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

He moaned as you felt the warmth of his seed fill your mouth. You waited for it all, not wanting to have any of it actually hit your skin. You swallowed, before you got up again. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a deadly look.

“I remember you, you little freak. You were disgusting back then and you still are to this day.”

You erupted adjusting your bra strap back over your shoulder.

“There you are, that’s the y/n I remember. Always something mean to say.”

He said as he tucked himself back, that sly look creeping back onto his face.

“Who’s the bully now, y/n?”

You snarled at him and turned around to get your sweater from the floor. You were ready to leave and change doctors immediately. But before you could get up again you felt his body crash into yours, pushing you up against that bed thing. He bent you over it, whispering in your ear.

“You were always the meanest. And I loved it. I loved you so much. I practically worshipped you.”

His groin was pushed up against your butt. You felt his bulge growing by the second as he took a deep sniff of your hair.

“Please, let me go. I’m sorry, I’m sorry ok?!”

You practically screamed, now afraid of the boy you never thought would be able to overpower you. But that was in high school. He was a man now.

“I will let you go, y/n. I’m not like you.”

But before he did as promised he got a good grip of your tits. Letting out a satisfied moan.

“Even better than I thought they would feel.”

He whispered before stepping away from you slowly. You immediately got away from him, quickly throwing the sweater back on your body.

“Remember that I had the power today, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes and walked towards the door. You stopped, and didn’t speak before your hand was placed firmly on the handle.

“Whatever you fucking weirdo.”

You said and opened the door, not looking back. You regretted being this fucking dumb. Falling for his trick, thinking that he had good intentions. The worst part was that it didn’t even get any better.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

#bts yandere #yandere!bts #yandere bts #yandere jimin #jimin x you #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts jimin #park jimin #yandere park jimin #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #park jimin x y/n #jimin x y/n #jimin x oc #jimin yandere #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #jimin #yandere!jimin #yandere x reader #yandere!jimin x reader #yandere!park jimin #request #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader

[chimcess]

— Waterlog: the masterlist

“After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin.”

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10

Extras: the playlist

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#park jimin #bts jimin #bts #jimin x you #jimin x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x y/n #jimin x y/n #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #jimin x female reader #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #jung hoseok #min yoongi #coworkers to lovers #jimin smut #jimin angst #jimin fluff #strangers to lovers #slow burn

[kingofbodyrolls]

Coming Home (m) | PJM (masterlist)

Summary: When your best friend, Park Jimin, who you’ve had a crush on since forever, suggests you stay at his house to heal and find yourself again after a series of traumatizing events had haunted you for years, you don’t hesitate to accept. Within those walls, a safe haven is woven, where wounds can heal and memories find release. As he nurtures your shattered spirit, an unexpected intimacy unfurls, leaving the fragile barrier between friendship and deeper emotions in question - can you keep your feelings hidden?

Pairing: Jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”)

Genre/AU: Best friends to lovers!au, detective!jimin, slice of life, healing after trauma, angst, smut and fluff.

Rating: mature/explicit/R18

Word count (for whole series): 44K

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings for whole series: Mention of past abuse and sexual assault (r*pe), attempted sexual assault, trauma, stalking, fighting, trust issues, insecurities, slightly thriller vibes, angst, fluff, explicit smut (multiple scenes), kissing, cuddling/spooning, unprotected sex (stay safe - OC’s on the pill), penetrative sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), slice of lice, healing after trauma (including therapy sessions), guns, BIG feelings, protective Jimin, previous character death (a parent), Jimin being soft and loving, self defense, humor, degrading words (whore and bitch).

There will be separate/specific warnings on each part/chapter.

Coming Home - Part 1 [20K]

Coming Home - Part 2 [18,5K]

Coming Home - Epilogue [5,3K]

#upcoming new fic #coming home masterlist #bts smut #jimin scenarios #jimin fanfic #bts jimin fanfic #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin imagine #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #bts jimin x reader #pjm smut #pjm x reader #pjm #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #jimin bts #park jimin #bts jimin #jimin fic #jimin smut #park jimin smut #park jimin x you #jimin fluff #jimin angst

[minisugakoobies]

Let's continue practicing this angst muscle of yours:

Stealing your wicked stepmother's booty call

As for member? I have my obvious preference but I'll let you choose

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: smut, maybe a smidge of angst?, Pool Boy!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, reader is plotting against her stepmom, infidelity (not involving reader), mistaken identities, cherry-haired Jimin, implied smut, Jimin's nickname is pretty self-explanatory 💦🍆🥴

Word Count: 1.5K

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: You're tired of watching your evil stepmom waste your father's money. So you steal one of her toys.

A/N: Luce, I'm sorry this took so long! 💜 I hope you like what I dreamt up here. I still have a few more requests waiting for inspiration - y'all are so patient, I can't thank you enough 💕

"YN, darling, pass me the suntan lotion, will you?"

Your lips instinctively curl themselves into a sneer as the sound of your stepmom's voice cuts into your poolside slumber. Opening your eyes beneath your oversized sunglasses, you tilt your head to find her lying in the chair next to you, hand extended expectantly.

You watch as she slowly applies the thick cream to her smooth skin, noting that you're not her only audience. Her movements have drawn the attention of the young man skimming the corner of the pool. His fingers tighten around the thin pole in his hands, eyes focused firmly on your stepmom's statuesque legs.

Interesting. Although Jimin was one of your classmates at university, you only knew him from his weekly visits to your father's house to clean the Olympic-sized pool where you were currently spending your summer break melding with the lounge chair. He never said more than the occasional hello and goodbye, was always polite and quiet. You thought he was incredibly cute, with his cherry red hair and gorgeous smile, but he kept to himself so you kept your distance.

So you're more than a little surprised to see such a hungry expression in his eyes as you observe him staring at your stepmom. Then he catches you looking, and quickly turns away.

You suppose you can't entirely blame him. Your stepmom is only a few years older than you and absolutely stunning. She's also a horrible, manipulative bitch who managed to sink her 30 mm stiletto fingernails directly into your father's heart and bank account.

For three years now, you've watched this woman slowly drain your inheritance away. Your father turns a blind eye to her exorbitant spending, probably because she's using her cunning wiles to keep a tight chokehold grip on his wallet. Among other things.

Your nap effectively ruined, you head into the house to grab a drink. There's a designer purse sitting on the kitchen island, your stepmom's latest purchase, and a brief rush of spite washes over you. Impetuously, you knock it over, spilling its contents all over the countertop. It's a very childish thing to do, but any chance you get to annoy the obnoxious gold digger, you take eagerly.

You wish there were something else you could do to show her just how much you hate her. Something more effective than simply knocking her things about. Like taking away one of her expensive toys. But it'd have to be something that wouldn't get you in trouble with your father. As much as you question his choices, you still love him dearly, and don't want to risk your relationship in the name of petty satisfaction.

There are some fresh cherries in the fridge, so you plop down on one of the couches in the open-concept living room to have a snack. It's not long before Jimin passes right by your perch as he heads home for the day. He doesn't seem to notice you, but it's easy to miss someone in this gigantic house if they're quiet. You just blend into the background.

He has his phone in hand and as he approaches the front door, his steps slow while his fingers fly over the screen. Then he finishes whatever he was doing and slips the phone back into his pocket before letting himself out.

From the messy pile on the kitchen island, your stepmom's phone buzzes.

You only pause for the smallest fraction of a second before leaping up to look at the phone. The screen is already dark, but you know your stepmom's code - her precious toy poodle's birthday - so you tap it in, and read the text messages waiting there:

You gotta stop teasing me when I'm working. I wanna rub you down like that

Can I come over later?

I need you tonight

There's just a nickname attached to the phone number, with a string of emojis - Super Soaker 💦🍆🥴 - but you're sure you know who is on the other end. And it's definitely not your father.

Your stepmom floats into the house. She spots your half-eaten bowl of cherries on the living room table. "YN, darling, please don't leave food just lying around like this! That's how you gets ants." She sighs heavily, as if her cushy life of doing nothing all day is exhausting. "I'm not your maid, you know? Or your mother."

"Believe me, I know," you mutter under your breath before nodding. "Okay."

"Thank you, darling. Oh, and before I forget, your father and I have plans with the Mins tonight, so we will be out very late! You'll be on your own for dinner."

"Okay," you repeat. "I'll just order something."

The look she gives you makes you grit your teeth. "Your father isn't made of money, YN." Unbelievable. How can she utter such phrases without a trace of irony? "I'm sure you can find something here to make for yourself for dinner. But please, try to keep the place clean! I don't want to come home to a messy house." And with a dismissive wave of her hand, she disappears towards the master bedroom.

That cheating brat. You want to take away her toys.

Your fingertips dance over her phone.

Be here at 8. I'll leave the door unlocked.

The response is immediate:

Can't wait, baby

You hear your stepmom's footsteps returning and quickly delete the messages before locking the phone and vanishing towards your room.

At eight, you resume your spot on the couch. Only you've traded your swimsuit for a satin robe, wrapped tightly around your body as you wait.

You don't have to wait long. The front door opens and a moment later, Jimin appears. When he sees you, he freezes, eyes widening under raised brows. No poker face.

"Hey… YN," he speaks slowly. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure out what to say.

"Hi Jimin," you reply lightly. "I didn't hear you knock."

"Oh, uh, the door was open so I just… walked in…" he pauses, "I think I left my earbuds here so I came to… check."

"Jimin." You smile sweetly. Luring him in with honey. "It's ok. I know."

He feigns confusion. "You know what?"

You motion for him to join you on the couch. Jimin crosses the room carefully, like a wild animal waiting for a trap to spring. He sits next to you, running his palms over his tight jeans, wiping away the sweat. His tanned skin seems to glow against the white of his tank top, and as he fidgets, his biceps flex gently.

"Be here at 8. I'll leave the door unlocked," you say as an answer to his question.

His eyebrows rise again. "That was you?" He huffs out a breath. "Fuck."

"That was me. Listen - "

"Please don't tell your father!" Jimin interjects, panic twisting his features. "I - I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have… but she said… I mean… I really need this job! And if he - "

"Honestly, if my dad finds out…" you wind the silky belt of your robe around your fingers, shrugging. "I think the job will be the least of your worries."

Jimin looks like he might get sick all over your stepmom's pricey couch. "Oh god. What do I do?" He pauses as the reality of the situation sinks in. Then his eyes narrow as he tips his head towards you, considering. "You… if you wanted me to know that you know, you could've just told me. Why did you send me that message, pretending to be her?"

You smirk, shifting to curl your legs beneath you. Jimin's eyes travel over your frame as you move, drinking in the flimsy material that hugs your curves while leaving large swaths of your skin bare. He swallows audibly, and your smirk deepens.

"Why do you think, Jimin? I want something."

He frowns. "Look, I don't have a lot of money, but I can pay - "

"Keep your money." You gesture around you. "I don't need it."

He meets your gaze again, with darkened eyes. "Then what do you want, YN?"

A wave of heat rolls through you. The hunger you'd seen earlier is back in his expression. Again you shift, shuffling closer to him until your knees brush his thigh, the thick muscle twitching at the contact.

"I want you to stop seeing her. Stop answering her texts, stop meeting up with her. End it completely, or I tell my father." You smile, running your fingers over his forearm. "He'll believe me. I never lie to him."

Jimin stares at your hand for a moment before placing his own on top. His touch is so warm. "And is that… everything you want?" His eyes flicker to yours.

You bite your lip. "Do you know what she calls you? In her phone?"

Jimin laughs, glancing away. "Yeah. Super soaker." He rubs the back of his neck.

"Mmmhmm." You pull your hand away. Rising up on your knees, you let your robe fall open, revealing the lacy black bra and panties you're wearing beneath.

Jimin lets out a tiny exhale. "Shit."

"I want to know where that name comes from," you declare, robe slipping off your shoulders. "Will you show me?"

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

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© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

#jimin smut #park jimin smut #bts smut #jimin x you #jimin x reader #park jimin x you #park jimin x reader #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #park jimin fanfic #btscarnivalnet #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanarmynet #fic: i need you tonight #possumswrite #jimin oneshot #bts scenarios