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dreaming boy (teaser)

title: dreaming boy pairing: nonbinary!jimin x nonbinary!reader (afab) ; namjoon x reader genre: fluff, angst others: adapted from a poem from sarah kay entitled "dreaming boy", college au, they still use gendered terms and pronouns voluntarily (he for jimin and she for reader), wc: 5.8k warnings: mature themes, gender confusion, awful judgemental people, awkward moments, mentions of sex and hooking up, tackles gender labels, one girl is completely out of it and pushes herself to reader but nothing happens disclaimer: this work is pure fiction. it does not wish to change jimin's real gender identity, whatever it may be. if i ever wrote something in this that may seem offensive or uneducated, please do feel free to tell me about it. i know that gender and sexuality has many grey areas and i do not wish to offend anyone. note: this is an edited and reposted version of a story i wrote from my old blog.

summary: ever since you were old enough to have boobs, all the people around you already caged you in a label you don't feel particularly attached to. with how you talk, walk, and dress, everyone just assumed that you are. so, you try and search for a label for yourself but fail miserably. that is, until jimin comes along and shows you labels are just there to cage you.

release date: september 9, 2022 12am kst

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dreaming boy

title: dreaming boy pairing: nonbinary!jimin x nonbinary!reader (afab) ; namjoon x reader genre: fluff, angst others: adapted from a poem from sarah kay entitled "dreaming boy", college au, masc oc and femme jimin, they still use gendered terms and pronouns voluntarily (he for jimin and she for reader), wc: 5.8k warnings: mature themes, gender confusion, awful judgemental people, implied sex (fairly sfw), tackles gender labels, one girl is completely out of it and pushes herself to reader but nothing happens disclaimer: this work is purely fiction. it does not wish to change jimin's real gender identity, whatever it may be. if i ever wrote something in this that may seem offensive or uneducated, please do feel free to tell me about it. i know that gender and sexuality has many grey areas and i do not wish to offend anyone. note: this is an edited and reposted version of a story i wrote from my old blog. you can find the post here. summary: ever since you were old enough to have boobs, all the people around you already caged you in a label you don't feel particularly attached to. with how you talk, walk, and dress, everyone just assumed that you are. so, you try and search a label for yourself but fail miserably. that is, until jimin comes along and shows you labels are just there to cage you.

In most of the dreams you remember from childhood, you were a boy.

Mudded knees and heels, you would raise your fist up high. The maiden in the tower, thankful as you rescued her. She would hug you and you would feel content. But it was not the maiden that made you feel that way. You know this because, in other dreams you had, you were not rescuing someone in particular. You were just a boy. Definitely a boy. No maidens that needed saving but it excited you.

Dreaming seemed to be not enough. You want to live that excitement when the sun rises too. So when you reached middle school, while the other girls wore skirts and pretty tops that some were already starting to fill out with their gorgeous body shapes,  you walked the halls with your oversized shirts and snapbacks, hiding whatever feminine shapes you would grow to have. With the hell that is school and the abundance of unneeded stares and gossip from people you know, the scraps from all the people in that middle school have already labeled you with a word. “Lesbian,” they said. That’s what you are. Though, you never confirmed it to anyone, for it is not a word that you feel connected to at all when you sneaked into the computer room of your middle school to google search what it meant. Girls are pretty, sure. You can see yourself falling in love with them, but really, you don't even know what falling in love really meant. But to be associated with the word just doesn’t seem right.

You wondered if you can dream yourself a gender. One that’s only yours. One that makes sense to you. 

That word hung to you in high school.

While the popular kids’ girls would look at you in disgust and discomfort like you were immediately attracted to them just with one glance, a guy actually tried to kiss you at one party during junior year in high school. Most of you were fairly drunk, being newly introduced to alcohol. It was a classic game of seven in minutes in heaven and the other boys in class rudely commented to “Just compare dicks or something, I guess.” when they locked you in the room.

He was so nice and tall. He asked you if you really liked girls. And you shook your head. “I don’t know,” you said.

His dimples were cute and he was pretty smart too. He was a lowkey kind of dude called Namjoon. He says he actually never had his first kiss and before you stopped your words, they came out of your mouth like a cannonball. 

“Do you want to kiss?”

His eyes widened and asked if you were sure. A part of you liked him and thought he was cute enough to be your first kiss. But also a hidden part of you is doing this to prove that word wrong. He smiled and showed you his dimple cheeks and leaned in. When your lips touch, to your surprise, you actually liked it. Your heart fluttered and butterflies flew in your stomach. So the next day, you still wore your oversized shirt but lost your snapback and let down your beautiful long hair. The next day after that, you walked the halls hand in hand with Namjoon, surprising everyone who starred and gossiped about you.

You dreamt of the ocean for weeks, never in control of your limbs.

He made you feel special. He would write you notes and put them in your locker. In your first month together, he got you a cute charm bracelet. And every month, he added a charm. You liked Namjoon. You really did. Eventually, you stopped hearing the word. And it didn’t bother you anymore. Next to Namjoon, you were a convincing enough girl. You still liked your sneakers and your oversized shirts, but sometimes you would trade your pants for simple jean shorts that would show your pretty, long legs. He said he liked them and you liked that. People seemed to think that you were now a girl and somehow you are convinced too. At least, when you were awake.

At night, you were Batman. At night, a fireman. At night, a boy with muscles in boy places, a firm hand, and a direction to run.

And so, the excitement was gone and once again it felt wrong.

Namjoon felt wrong. And he sensed that too so you cried on his chest that night in his room. You were frustrated with yourself. So was the word that was thrust to you right after all? You thought. Namjoon hugged you that night and you know he was holding back his tears. He wished for you to figure things out soon and promised he will be there for you. Senior year, you were still friends with Namjoon and still hung out with him but people around you quickly picked up that you were no longer in a relationship. Some say you finally realized your true sexuality but more are just convinced you broke up on your own terms. Namjoon didn’t really care about what they were saying about you and him. Maybe that’s why you like him so much. So you stuck by his side until you graduated high school and he let you.

It may not have worked, but at least a friendship was formed. He listens but still... no one really understood you or related to you.

College came by and you were welcomed by different kinds of people.

Suddenly, everyone is no longer just gossiping scraps from the popular kids table. Everyone is discovering themselves in their own kind of way. Well, people still talk, but not really to bully. Talk is all people are really gonna do, you settled with yourself. By that time, it didn’t bother you anymore; even without Namjoon by your side. With his top-notch brain, Namjoon got into a top medical university. You, on the other hand, studied Engineering and ended up in a pretty decent university an hour away. Despite that, you still kept in touch. Still, studies are a mess and the both of you were distracted enough to only text or meet each other a few times a month.

Parties are a mess too, you learned. Frat parties are the worst. Everyone is either making out, grinding with one another, getting drunk, or getting high. Exploring. That’s what everyone said they’re doing. Being newly adults, everyone is eager to try things they haven’t before. And so were you.

That’s where you met Momo. She was a sorority girl who attended the frat party you came to one Friday night. She had this beautiful dark hair and eyes that lured you in. The both of you grinded on the dance floor and felt each other’s bodies.

She was the very first girl you kissed.

It was nice but... you didn’t like it as much as with Namjoon. Maybe it was the way your faces melted into each other. Maybe it was the way your mind searched for stubble or the hard jaw or the cinnamon scent. You couldn’t breathe through all her lilac perfume. And so that ended on the dance floor.

That night, you dreamt of being lost in the forest, of a terrible tidal wave.

If you were not a “lesbian,” what possible explanation do you have? What words could you tie around this treacherous heart, the impossible hunger, your miserable mind?

Three college parties later and you were back again with your friends, a red cup in your hand filled with mixed alcohol that your friend gave you. You have tried to kiss multiple boys and girls after that, desperate to find an answer for yourself. Soon, you just gave up, settling that you were fine with making out and fucking a few guys here and there but never getting into a relationship with them.

Until he came along.

You were dancing with your intoxicated friends on the dance floor when you laid your eyes on him. He strutted into that party with his pink hair and striped purple sweater like he owned the place. From a group of people behind you, you heard someone say, “Oh, he’s definitely gay.”

That was a confusion you recognize.

You found out that he was good at dancing, great, even. He wowed everyone on the dance floor and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You then began to stare at him the whole night. Like an eagle eyeing its prey. He was so sure of himself, so forgiving, so gentle but at the same time so confident. You were intrigued.

And so since college is all about exploring, you wanted him to explore you too.

At the next party, you made it a mission to be close to him. You made your way beside him when he was getting himself a drink before maybe heading to the dance floor to show everyone how it should be once again. You got a clean cup while he was pouring in his and you began to talk.

“You here to grace us with your dancing again?” You smirk and stretch your right hand to get the bottle of vodka a bit far from his left. Your chest bumped with the right side of his upper body and your face was mere inches away from each other. Your eyes stared at his and you can clearly see the way his cheeks tinted pink because of the interaction. It was cute how he found your subtle but obvious flirting gesture enough to be flustered. When your hands clasped the bottle, you stared for a few more seconds and then moved away.

It was when you pour the drink into your cup that he snaps back to reality.

“Well?” you ask.

“U-uhh. Yeah. I guess.”

You nod. “I’ll go and watch when you do, pinky," you nicknamed him, referring to his prettily dyed hair.

And just a few minutes after, you see him already making his way to where everyone was dancing. His body moved gracefully as he danced to that one famous girl group song. It felt like the walls were leaning close to him when he danced, everyone watched in awe and cheered. When he was done, everyone applauded him and his friends fist bumped, hugged, and pushed him in excitement. Then he stayed on the dance floor and danced with everybody else.

You learned from your friends that he was a dancing major. They never really heard of him dating so they weren’t sure where you would lie with him. But he looked pretty interested earlier. And now, as he stared you down while he was swaying to the beat of the DJ.

You walked over to him through the bodies that were grinding against you. When you reached him, he smirked. “Did that live up to your expectations?” You grinned and brought your face closer to his. “That was even better, baby boy.” And you danced with each other the whole night.

When you wasted the night away and the party was about to go down, you asked him if he wanted to go home with you, clearly making hints of sex.

He gave you a cute smile and nodded. “Sure,” he said. You weren't expecting him to agree.

When you reached your place, you made him sit on your bed and he looked at all your posters of rock bands, anime, and Marvel superheroes in the room. You also had a few of your Funko Pop collections displayed on the shelf, the rest were safe at home.

“Do you like Marvel movies?” You asked. He nodded. “I do. My favorite is Captain America.” You nod and pull up your downloaded Captain America: The Winter Soldier from your hard drive of illegally downloaded movies. You set down your laptop in the middle and watched side by side on the bed.

15 minutes into the movie later, you placed your hand on top of his and caressed it. He made the next move to hold it and you continued to caress it with your thumb. If you two started the movie with space in between, there was none of it now but the warmth of your body heat next to each other.

You look away from the laptop screen and look at him, your faces merely inches away from each other.

He looked at you with expecting eyes, pretty and glistening. He was so pretty that you decided to make the first move and kissed him.

The kiss was soft. It was nice. Better than Namjoon’s. He had the missing piece you were always looking for but you could never point out what it is out. When you pushed the kiss deeper and placed your hand against his ribcage to push him down. He pulled away and removed your hand from his. He looked at you with lust but sincerity in his eyes.

“Can we take it slow?” He asked.

You nodded and went back to sitting down. Suddenly, you felt like a fourteen-year-old trying to get a bra strap off. You watched the movie in silence but still held hands. He didn’t find it awkward like you kind of did since you still feel a tiny pang of embarrassment when you tried to deepen the kiss, wondering if you miscalculated things.

Maybe he wasn’t interested in you that way. Maybe he just wanted to be friends.

He spent the night anyway and you lay next to each other breathing, the tiny bed leaving your hand inches away from his boxer shorts twitching under the covers. You do your best not to touch him in any way.

The morning light has slipped into your room when you wake up. He was still sound asleep beside you, curled up against you while you hugged him from behind. You remember the events from last night and can’t help but cringe a little. Unfortunately, you had a makeup Saturday class in less than an hour because your professor had a conflict with his schedule during the weekday and you hoped he would wake up before you leave. He didn’t though. So you left him a note, a glass of water, and medicine for a hangover if ever he had one.

When you got back in the afternoon, you found that your bed was made. The clothes on the floor were cleaned up and tossed into the used bin. You were always kind of messy and you weren’t proud of that. You found that a few of your clean clothes were folded as well. You felt a tug in your heart at the small gesture.

Hours later, he texted you. You gave him your number on the note and told him to save it and you were so glad he did.

Thank you for last night xx — This is Chim! 💜

You giggled at the little nickname he got for himself and the purple heart emoji he put right beside it.

You’re welcome, Jimin. Thank you for kinda fixing up my room. Sorry I’m such a mess. You didn’t have to do that.

Nonsense. It was the least I can do when you let me stay the night babe.

You blushed at the nickname. You then realized that you have it bad and hoped that your tiny crush would go away and not develop into something more.

It didn’t go away.

Jimin and you became two peas in a pod, doing everything together. Sometimes, he would go to your department just so he could eat lunch with you at the university. During parties, you would not leave each other’s side even when some guys (and girls) would try and hook up with you. When you talk to others with the intent of going somewhere that leads to going to a secluded place, you would always find him sulking in the corner somewhere and staring at you. You found it cute and that would lead you back to him.

He does the most random things, you learned.

Out of nowhere, he learned the flute and knocked on your door at 12 in the morning to play it for you. He sang your songs while he played. At that moment, you really wondered if this man fell from heaven.

“Are you a secret angel? Confess now.” You asked him. His voice was so soothing and angelic like his whole personality and face is not enough to convince you that. He chuckled and winked. “Will never tell my secret.”

He also liked picking flowers from where he wasn’t supposed to. Once in a while, he would give you those flowers. Not only you though. He’ll leave a piece outside the door of every room on your floor. He says that everyone deserves a little flower sometimes. And he says it with a piece of flower stuck in his ear.

On your birthday, he surprised you with a triple-layer cake that he baked overnight in your place while you slept. You walked into him in your kitchen trying to ice it. You watched him, with his shirtless torso on display, put the icing into a tube and you thought you have never loved a body the way you loved his at that moment.

“Oh, you’re awake. Happy birthday, darling.” He greets you when he sees you in your oversized shirt and nested hair. You didn’t have pants on but you were comfortable enough to look like that around him. You snapped out of your thoughts on his body when you heard him speak and he gave you one of the best birthdays in your life.

It was another lazy day and you were on the couch with Jimin. He was making you watch a romcom that was his favorite when the doorbell rang. You asked him if he ordered anything because you didn’t and he shook his head. You stood up to answer the door. When you opened the door, a tall, dimpled guy came into view.

“Joonie!” You screamed and jumped at him. He laughed and picked you up from where you jumped and wrapped your legs around him.

“There’s my favorite girl,” Namjoon said and hugged you tight.

When he let you back down, you express your glee. “What the fuck brought you here, man? I fucking missed you.”

You punched his chest lightly. He gasps dramatically and rubs his chest. “Med school is stressing me out lately and my friends told me I should let out some steam so I decided to visit my favorite person that’s only an hour away.” He says.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh. Okay? I’m the only option because you can’t drive?” You tease him.

Namjoon still didn’t have a license so he takes the bus when it is time to go home. He prefers riding his bike and decided that driving cars just wasn’t for him. Besides, he has you to drive him home during the holidays anyway.

“Y/N?” Jimin called from the couch. You noticed he has paused the movie and was now looking at you two, waiting for himself to be acknowledged.

“Oh. I didn’t know you had someone over. I should’ve called but I wanted it to be a surprise.” Namjoon said.

“Hi. I’m Namjoon. I’m Y/N’s best friend-slash-ex-boyfriend.” He introduced himself with what our high school classmates used to call us.

You sighed. “Shut up, Joon. Jimin, this is Joon. Joon, this is Jimin, my friend here in college.” You wondered if a friend is the right term at the moment. It was true though. You didn’t have any labels. Even if you have kissed once or thrice and cuddled more than friends should have.

“Yes, I’m Y/N’s friend.” Jimin says. Namjoon nodded. “Nice to meet you.” Jimin didn’t smile back which was unusual for him. “Nice to meet you too.” 

“You can go and sit down. We’re watching a movie.” You said to Namjoon who handed you something in a paper bag.

“I got you your favorite chocolate croissant and a bottle of cheap wine we could drink.” You accepted it and scoffed.

“Woah, Joon. You’re getting fancy. Are the rich kids in that med school making you like this?” You said and kept the food in the kitchen to eat later.

“Do you guys want some food? We could order out.” You asked the guys sitting on your couch.

“Pizza?” Joon asked and you nodded.

You sat in between them and brought out your phone. You went to the delivery app and picked out the pizza flavor.

“Hawaiian?” Joon asked as he saw you pick out the flavor he knows you don’t like. Jimin loves it though and you just got used to ordering it.

“Yeah.” You say nothing more, afraid that he’ll expose you and that you hate the pineapple on top of it. It’s a good thing he didn’t say more.

“What are we watching, by the way?” Namjoon asks while Jimin still sits there quietly. You look over to Jimin for help. You forgot the title of the film.

“Oh. Uhm. Legally Blonde.” Jimin answered.

Namjoon nodded. “Oh. Nice. Y/N doesn’t really watch romcoms so I got confused for a bit. I guess our little Y/N is kinda changing, huh.” You roll your eyes. “Shut up, Joon.”

The moment the movie ended and your food was finished, Jimin began to gather his things. “I think I need to go. Got things to do.” He says, not looking at you in the eyes. He didn't bother waiting for your response and headed out the door.

“Chim?” You caught his wrist when you followed him just outside your door. He looked back at you and smiled, except, you noticed it was not the same smile he gives you. There was something else underneath it.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him. “You told me you were free today. Come and hang out with me and Joon tonight.” You pleaded.

He shook his head and tilted his head up. He pressed his lips together. “Something came up. Besides, I should let you catch up with your best friend, Y/N.” He says and wiggles his wrist out of your hand.

“Woah, woah, man. We’re okay, right? What did I do?” You press him again.

“Don’t worry about it.” He turns around and walks off.

You tilted your head in confusion and felt as if your heart dropped. You didn’t like this feeling. You didn’t like him walking away from you like that. Your brain was telling you to reach out once again, run after him and hug him from behind but your feet stood planted on the ground like a fool not able to follow orders from its master. You couldn’t move as you wondered what was wrong with the special someone you can only call a friend.

The moment you stepped back in your place, you found Namjoon already waiting for you on the couch with his elbow propped up on the backrest of the sofa and his cheek leaning to his palm.

“So when were you gonna tell me about this Jimin that you’re in love with?” He teased.

“Shut up, Joon. I’m not fucking in love with him.” You say as you plopped down on the couch next to him.

“Please, Y/N. You’re so fucking whipped for that dude. You never even considered eating Hawaiian when we hang out even though it’s my favorite and you always get to choose the movie during our marathons.” He pointed it out and you realized he was right but you brushed it off like it was nothing.

“Whatever Joon, people’s tastes can change. Also, you have the worst choices in movies that’s why. Your boring ass would choose a fishing documentary over fucking Kingsman.”

He shrugs. “I’m just saying, Y/N. I’ve seen the way you looked at him. It’s something else.” He pushes once again.

Hours later, the dark filled in the day and the two of you were drinking the wine Joon brought.

And like he predicted, you caved.

“It’s just! How the fuck am I supposed to do this, Joon?! He’s so confusing! One minute, I think he does like me the way I like him, and the next, I feel like he’s gonna push me away in disgust bc I have a fucking coochie! I don’t know anymore, Joon.” You screamed and hit Joon’s lap with your hand repeatedly.

“God, can you not hit me for one second?” He says as he pushes your hand away. You pout and sulked alone on your part of the couch.

“Sorry.” You took a gulp of the cheap wine in your mug. A reminder to yourself that you should get some cheap wine glasses to go along with it next time.

“I’m a mess. Always have been.” You mumble the last part to yourself, but knowing the small apartment and the quiet atmosphere, you were sure Namjoon heard it.

“Hey,” Namjoon scooted closer to you. “You remember that time when we got into 7 minutes in heaven?” He asks you and puts an arm around your shoulder.

You groan. “Not the time to talk about our origin story, Joon.” He tch-ed.

“No, you don’t understand. That’s exactly what you need. A fucking talk. When we were in that silly party game, what did I ask you?” You pause to think.

“You asked me if I really liked girls?” You were unsure of your own words, but not because you don’t remember. It was because you were unsure where the conversation was going. He nods.

“So? Go fucking ask him.”

“You want me to ask him if he likes men?” You repeat him, asking if he's serious.

He nods again and pats your back. You laugh in disbelief. “No fucking way, dude. We’re in too fucking deep to talk about it, I think.”

Namjoon took a sip of his wine. “Are you sure? Or are you just scared of his answer?”

You pause your drinking midway. Obviously, Namjoon got to you.

You understood, though. This man beside you has known your secrets, your thoughts, just with the two years you spent with him. When you were at your peak confusion, he was there to be poured your feelings. He really is your best friend and you loved him because he was so kind and so understanding like this.

“Communication is always difficult, Y/N. We know that. That’s what happened to us, right? We talked things out well and we fixed things. Look at us now, we’re like freaking Batman and Robin.”

And you can’t help to think that he was right. Maybe it was time to talk things down.

“Obviously, I’m Batman.” You say and Namjoon rolled his eyes.

"That you are."

You texted Jimin to meet you at one party in a club next Friday. When you got there, the pink-haired boy was nowhere to be found. You spot one of your mutual friends and you walk over to her.

“Y/N! You fucking hot bitch. Look at you!” She screams as she takes in your look. You wore black cargo pants and a black bralette with a fishnet top over it. From her look, she looks absolutely wrecked already.

“Fuck, Jen. What did you take?” You ask her and she giggled.

“A magician…” She tumbles to your chest and you hold her up “…never tells her secret.”

Her head tilts back and you groan. “Have you seen Jimin?” You ask her.

She giggles again and brings her hands up to her hair and plays with it, tossing it. “Y/N. Fucking kiss me, please. I’m so horny right now. And you’re so hot. You go both ways right?” She brings her body closer to yours and grinds on it.

You sighed and ignored her pleas. “Jen, please. Have you seen Jimin?” You ask once again as you try to keep her feet planted on the ground.

She smiled. “Oh! Chimchim! That little gay man! He’s there with Kookie. I think they were like fucking each other on the dance floor earlier or something.” She points to the dance floor where you do spot the pink-haired boy dancing with an ebony-haired man. You try and ignore the names he called your friend.

Jungkook was a hot photography major. He had long permed hair that fit him well. His right arm had a sleeve tattoo, complimenting his lean but thick muscular body.

And just like that, your heart sunk again.

Jen continued to try and dance her hips to you while you stared at the boy just a few meters away. You looked at him with pain in your eyes. And like he sensed the pair of eyes watching him, his eyes met yours. It widens when he sees your face. So you looked away and brought your attention back to the wasted girl in front of you.

You brought out your phone and booked an Uber to bring the girl home. She was not safe in this atmosphere at all. Jen began to plant kisses on your cheek, which you really didn’t mind. She was usually a clingy girl. You worried that someone else might take it the wrong way.

As soon as you brought back Jen to her place, she slept like a log on her bed. The club was only 15 minutes away and you still wanted to go back to talk to Jimin. You hoped he was still there.

And he wasn’t.

Your heart sunk. Did he go home with Jungkook? Did he lay the boy you love on his bed? Did he kiss him and did he place his hands on that beautiful body of his? Did Jimin accept him? Did he not push his hand away and tell him to take it slow? Will he let himself be the small spoon in his arms tonight?

You drank yourself to waste in that club. Hiding in a corner with one of your friends who tried to talk to you but you shrugged them off and they let you drink by yourself and only watched you. When you felt like you had enough before you cannot physically go home, you bid them goodbye.

Before completely going home, you let yourself sober up alone. You sat on one of the swings in a park and let your thoughts consume you. It wasn’t until someone was nudging you awake that you realized that you dozed off. A man who looked to be in a security guard uniform told you you should go home because it’s late at night. You quickly said your sorry and stood up.'

You dreadily walked back to your apartment. It felt like when you get home, all you can think about is how he smelt on your bed. How he smiled against your hold under the sheets. How sometimes, he would face you and slip his head to your neck and you could feel how he breathes in sync with yours.

But what you find against your locked door isn’t something you expect to see.

There was the pink haired boy you love so much. Sitting on the ground and his face is buried on his knees.

“J-jimin?” You stuttered, not believing your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He lifts his head and reveals his red and swollen eyes. Tears fell from his face. You fell to your knees in front of him at the sight of him crying. You hugged him tight.

“What the fuck happened? Did Jungkook do this to you?” You asked, anger seeping through you. How dare anyone make your angel cry?

He didn’t answer and it didn’t look like he would answer. So your next move was not to press further and make him rest. You guided him to your bed and lay him there. He stopped crying but never stopped staring at you as you readied yourself to bed. While you removed your make-up and changed your clothes to an oversized shirt and panties, he only stared at you.

“Y/N?”

He stared at you with glossy and tired eyes. His face was all fluffy and swollen from crying.

“Can you please hold me to sleep?”

And so you did.

When you wake up, Jimin is sitting on the edge of the bed, his back facing you. You sat up and he sensed your movement, turning back around. “Good morning.” You say and he gave you a smile so little you almost felt like you hallucinated it.

“Can you tell me what happened now?” You ask him. He shook his head. “It’s not Jungkook. Nothing happened.” He assures you and you furrow your brows together. “Then why?”

He didn’t answer. The silence weighed down on you. It felt like now or never.

You placed a hand on top of his that laid flat on the bed.

“Jimin.” He stared at the hand on top of his then back at your eyes.

“Do you want to date boys?”

You held your breath for a long, quiet moment while he thought of an answer. And when he finally opened his mouth, your heart was ready to fall to the ground.

“I haven’t met one that I’d like to date yet.” He answers you.

So he did like boys. You thought to yourself as you feel your hand unconsciously slip away on top of his.

But he caught it just before it made its way back to your side.

His eyes teared up again.

“And right now, I’m pretty in love with you, if that’s okay.”

He said and held your hand and kissed it.

You teared up as well at the confession. You smiled so wide and let the tears pour out like a waterfall.

Jimin buried his face in your hand that he was holding. “Please.”

He begs. “Please tell me you didn’t go home with Jen that night. Please don’t tell me the reason you came home so late was because you held her in your arms.”

And suddenly everything made sense.

He was crying at your door because of you. You cried for him for the same reason he cried for you. And you thought, How dumb we are, Jimin? What useless lovesick fools are you we?

You shake your head. “I am only ever in love with you, Jimin. You’re my angel.” And you brought his face up to yours and kissed him like the gift he is from heaven.

With Jimin, you did not crave the language you always thought you needed. With Jimin, just loving is okay. And it didn’t have to matter what anyone would say. Love is in its purest form when it’s with Jimin. He didn’t feel like the last puzzle piece that would complete you, the one you’ve been looking for your whole life to give you the answer. With Jimin, you didn’t feel like a big question mark. It felt like you’ve always been whole. And you are. Always have been.

And just like that, a hand reached backwards into a faraway dream and said, “come on then, we’ve got a maiden to save.”

You guess what you’re saying is that Jimin makes you feel like a boy, like the boy you’ve always been. At night, you climb trees and wear cargo shorts. You steal buildings and build fires. When you are awake, you are curled around his back, the happiest big spoon in the drawer. He is naked and heavy-breathing, the man you love.

You hold his body like the gift it is, and safely sink back into dreams.

© wolfvmin. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. thank you.

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Our Moon

Fandom: BTS Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader x Taehyung Genre: Angst and a bit of Fluff Word Count: 920 Words

Summary: What would you do once you find out on the day of your wedding that your best friend is actually in love with you?

“C’mon,” I said to my sister who was helping me getting ready, “pass me the earrings.”

It was getting late. I had a reputation of always being on time for every occasion. I didn’t want to spoil that, not on my own wedding.

“Whoa…” I was startled seeing someone peeking behind me through the mirror. “Jimin!” I called in excitement.

My best friend gave me a wide smile and entered the room. I hurriedly put my earrings on and stood up in front of him.

“So, what do you think?” I asked, showing off my wedding outfit.

“God!” Jimin chuckled, “You’re shining brighter than the moon.”

“Well, of course, I do.”

“Taehyung will faint once he sees you. Just wait.”

“Oh no!” I pretended to be shocked, “Who am I to marry then?”

“Don’t worry.” Jimin said, “There won’t be any lack of volunteers to be your groom instead.”

I punched him in the arm and we both burst into a fit of stupid laughter. My sister rolled her eyes and said, “I’m gonna go fix my hair. Don’t be late, y/n.” Then she went away leaving me alone with my best friend.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” I said, looking into Jimin’s eyes. For some reason, I was getting emotional making my eyes watery.

“Please, dear.” Jimin took my face on both of his hands, “don’t cry. I don’t think I can handle that right now. I swear I’ll break down.”

I smiled and said, “You’ll always stay by my side, won’t you?”

“Always.” Jimin said holding my hand and leading me outside.

I walked down the aisle with my father by my side. Taehyung was looking at me with the box smile on his face. I could feel my stomach twisting, not sure if it were the butterflies or anxiety.

As soon as I stood up facing Taehyung, I glanced side ways to catch a look at Jimin. He was at the very front, smiling at me. But I noticed that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Is he bothered by anything?” I thought anxiously.

The priest cleared his throat making me aware of my surrounding. I quickly looked at Taehyung. He was still smiling but there was a bit of nervousness in him too.

The marriage ceremony was done in a flash. In a moment, everyone was cheering and drinking and congratulating us. I was overwhelmed by all the things that were occurring at once. In the middle of all the chaos, I was still searching for Jimin, who was nowhere to be seen.

Taehyung noticed the distress on my face, “Darling, are you okay?”

“Where’s Jimin?” I asked right away.

Taehyung looked around for a while, “I didn’t see him since the morning.”

I didn’t want to worry Taehyung. So, I said, “Let’s go get ourselves some drink. I’m sure he’ll show up.”

We were drinking and planning about our future; which mostly consisted of Taehyung ranting about having two children (a boy and a girl) and how adorable they would be. I could sense Taehyung was getting drunk by the time. He slowly started to talk in his alien language and I couldn’t help but laugh.

When I almost forgot about Jimin, he finally showed up with messy hair and puffy eyes. He looked like he had some drinks. He wasn’t walking straight.

“Hey, Jimin!” I ran towards him, “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” Jimin chuckled, “I’m fine.”

“Come sit with us.”

The boys were drinking a little too much. I was trying to stop them which was not helping at all. They were talking about the old times. How I had met Jimin for the first time; just a mere friendship turned into such a close bond. How Jimin had introduced me to Taehyung. And how soon we were already falling for each other.

“And now,” Jimin slurred, “you are taking her away, leaving me into this darkness, all alone. Why? Why?” He was trying to hold Taehyung by his shirt collar.

“Jiminie,” Taehyung pouted, “Why are you saying this? What do you mean?”

Jimin was laughing. It sounded so fake that it felt like a lunatic was laughing at his own joke.

But I knew exactly what Jimin had meant by those words. I remembered about that day clearly.

It was a Halloween party. I was a cat and Taehyung a tiger. Jimin, on the other hand, was a really cute puppy. Taehyung and I had just started to date for about a week then. But we were already head over heels for each other.

When we were taking a photo together as a couple, Jimin had interrupted us and stood beside me.

“Jimin!” Taehyung said in an irritated voice, “Let me take a photo with my moon.”

Jimin put my hand over his shoulder while posing for the photo. He corrected Taehyung and said, “Our moon.”

Taehyung had taken that moon away from his sky. He was now alone in the dark night. This was exactly what he had meant.

But why? Did he love me too? Was I dumb enough to not notice that? Hadn’t Jimin did everything Taehyung had done for me and more?

Jimin looked at me with an expression I had never seen on him before. It wasn’t just sadness, but regret. My eyes were filling up with tears. I wanted to ask him, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Jimin slowly nodded his head towards me and said, “It’s too late, isn’t it?”

My Masterlist

Dweller of the Dark

Fandom: BTS Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader Genre: Mystery/Horror/Angst Warning: Jimin and the reader are step siblings, gothic atmosphere, mention of car accident, death, slight swearing, scary mannequin figures, nightmares, questionable behaviors, mention of bullying, anxiety, insanity, murder, blood, heartbreak and a never ending sexual tension in the air. Word Count: 5k Words Note: This is a fictional piece based on Jimin’s ‘ID: Chaos’ photoshoot. Some contents of it are disturbing. Please, read it at your own risk.

Summary: You are adopted by one of the richest couples of your country at the last stage of your teen years. At your new home, you meet a silent and reserved boy of your age and become attracted to him instantly. But they introduce him as your step-brother.

*************************************************

I stood in front of the huge stairs I saw before me. It still felt like a dream when I was told that I had been adopted. I had spent my whole life at the orphanage. I saw all of my friends getting adopted one by one until I was the only one left of my age. But now, when all of my hope of being adopted was left far into the past and when I was counting my days till I was 18, I learned that I was finally being called to live with a family. Standing in the middle of their huge mansion, I realized they were much richer than I could ever comprehend.

The old couple came, after a few minutes, and started to introduce themselves to me. They were Mr. and Mrs. Park and I was to call them by that name; not ‘mommy’-daddy’. I was to learn about their etiquette and manners, their way of clothing, eating, walking, basically everything one needed to live.

I realized they were being very formal to me. So, I decided not to have my hopes up on their affection. I reminded myself that I was going to be 18 in a few months. Then, I would be able to leave the house to go live by myself, the way I wanted to.

While I was getting acquainted with my new adoptive parents, I noticed a boy, about my age, standing above the stairs. He was leaning on the railing and looking directly at me. When our eyes met, he didn’t bother to look away. Instead, it felt like he was looking at me more intensely than before, as if he was reading me like a book.

Mrs. Park observed us for a few seconds and cleared her throat. My attention instantly came back to them. Then, she called the boy to come downstairs.

“Lovely,” she called, but it wasn’t a loving tone at all, “Come down and introduce yourself. Don’t you know, it’s bad manners to eavesdrop?”

The boy walked down the stairs slowly while his gaze was still on me. I had looked away from him in fear of disappointing the elders. But still, I couldn’t help catching a glance of him staring back at me every now and then.

The boy stood in front of me but didn’t say anything. Instead, Mrs. Park said, “This is Park Jimin, our only son.”

Son? I was shocked at the revelation. He looked much younger to be their son. But why the fact that he would be my step brother was bothering me more, I couldn’t understand.

I noticed that the boy was wearing a peculiar all black outfit. He raised his hand in front of me to shake mine. He was also wearing peculiar black gloves in his hand.

His mother saw me hesitating and informed that it was for medical purposes. He was allergic to the sun and required to wear black at day time to block the sunlight. I nodded and took his hand. I didn’t know if it was my imagination but I felt like he squeezed my hand a bit before letting it go. The boy left without saying a word to me.

Then, Mrs. Park told me something I didn’t expect, “You see, Jimin is an only child and he gets very lonely at times. So, we decided to adopt a son last year. But he was killed in a car accident.”

“I’m so sorry.” Automatically came out of my mouth.

Mrs. Park nodded and said, “I hope Jimin likes you as much as he liked his brother.”

I was given a huge room decorated uniquely all for myself. I was relieved to be alone since I came into the mansion. I decided to sleep early being exhausted after the long journey from the orphanage.

As soon as I went to bed, the thought of Jimin squeezing my hand for a split second came to my mind. Then, I thought of how strange his features were. His jawline was sharp but with chubby cheeks above. His eyes looked tired but pleasant with dark brown iris. And his lips were so puffy and pink.

From the next day onward, I started to have busy days. I met my governess and she handed me a routine I was to follow for a week. I was appointed for many lessons such as sewing, table manners, history, speaking etc. I was told to eat separately until I learned my basic lessons on behaviors. I didn’t even meet my parents let alone Jimin for a whole week. My new home felt like hell to me already.

But fortunately, my governess was taken ill and I got some free days to spend without any lessons. One such day, I decided to explore some territories of the house.

I came to an empty room with some mannequins in it. They were all dressed in matching outfits. I got inside to get a closer look at those. As I was about to leave after finding nothing much to look at, I saw Jimin standing between me and the door.

I yelped immediately. Then, I tried to give some valid reason for my presence in that room. “I was lost.” I said.

Jimin nodded and said, “It’s not surprising to be lost in this huge mansion.” My eyes were opened wide. It was the first time I heard Jimin speak and his voice was definitely not what I had imagined. It was high pitched and I dare say, angelic.

Jimin went to one of the mannequins and fixed its mask. I noticed that other than those masks, Jimin was wearing the same clothes as the mannequins. I was curious to know its purpose but couldn’t muster up the courage to say so.

Jimin looked at me for a while as if reading my mind. Then, he said, “I, myself, dress them every day.”

“Why?” I tried to ask, but my voice sounded scratchy. So, I cleared my throat and asked again, “What are these?”

“These?” Jimin asked, raising his eyebrows, “These are the memories of my dead siblings.”

Dead siblings? But I thought he had lost only a step-brother. I didn’t want to interfere with their family issue. So, I didn’t inquire about the matter. Instead, I habitually said, “I’m sorry for your step-brother. I heard what happened.”

“But I’m not.” Jimin casually said while fixing the mannequins’ clothes.

Another mysterious answer. I decided to take my leave without diving into an unwanted conversation. So, I said, “I forgot that I had some homework left. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go.”

I got out of that suffocating room as soon as Jimin nodded.

That night, I had the weirdest dream. I saw myself in that mannequin room again, surrounded by more mannequins than there originally were. I tried looking for the exit, but there wasn’t any. Suddenly the figures started to move. They started to crowd around me. I kept screaming in fear but there was no sound coming from me.

Then, the scene changed. I was in a dark room with a window at the ceiling. The large moon was throwing its light, but not enough to illuminate the room. I tried to get up. But I was chained to the bed by both of my hands. I tried to get rid of it by force. Then, both of my hands got sliced up.

I woke up with cold sweat. My room was dark just like my dream. As I kept panting, my eyes got adjusted to the dark and I could make out my surroundings clearly. I looked at my door and saw that it was open. I couldn’t remember keeping it open before going to bed.

Without thinking much about it, I walked up to it and closed the door and afterwards came back to my bed. I lied on one side and forced my eyes shut to go back to sleep.

Then, I felt someone sitting beside me on the bed. I looked through the corner of my eyes and saw that it was Jimin. I sat up right away.

“Don’t be afraid.” He said softly, as if entering someone’s room while they sleep was no big deal, “It’s just me.”

I stammered, “How d-did you come…come to my room?” This time, I remembered clearly to have locked my door before I came to sleep.

Jimin smiled, “I have my ways around the house.” Then, he stood up and poured a glass of water from my bedside table. He sat down much closer to me again and handed me the glass.

I was questioning his sanity at that point. I didn’t dare shout out to call anyone for help. My room was on the furthest corner of the house. So, it was possible that no one would hear me anyway. Even if they did, they would definitely side with their son over me.

“Take it.” Jimin now took my hands and placed the glass in between them himself.

My hands were shivering. But I still managed to gulp down the water. Jimin carefully caressed my hair and whispered, “You can rest all you want. The governess won’t show up anytime soon.” Then, he smiled in a way that gave me Goosebumps.

He took the empty glass from me and put it back at the table. He looked at me and said, “Now, go straight to sleep like a good girl.” He patted my head a little more. But he was still sitting by my side.

I didn’t know what to say or do. I sat there dumbfounded for a long time. But I noticed something different in Jimin. He was not covered in garments from his head to toe. He was in his night clothes; a beautiful loose white satin shirt showing his bare chest.

With the change of clothes, his attitude seemed to have changed as well. He looked more free and mischievous now contrary to his bold and short spoken self of the day.

I also noticed tattoos on him; which I found surprising considering how much of a rule maniac these people were. There was one on his neck which said ‘Tailor of Chaos’ while another a little lower above his chest called ‘Artemis’.

Jimin finally got up and said in an offended way, “I’m sorry, I thought you might want a company.” Then, he abruptly left.

Next day I was asked to have breakfast with the family. When I arrived at the dining room, Mr. Park announced that I should join them in every meal from then on. The conversation at the breakfast sounded lifeless to me. Jimin was back in his all black outfit covering most of himself. With that, his serious attitude was back as well. Looking at him, I felt like the Jimin from last night was just my imagination.

Few more days had passed since my nightmare. I didn’t have any weird encounters with Jimin anymore. I saw him every now and then. But he never said a word to me. He passed me like I was invisible. If I had thought that nothing could go wrong till I became 18, then I had never been more wrong in my life.

One night I woke up from my disturbed sleep. I could clearly hear people singing downstairs. It was the kind of singing we hear at the church when people sing hymns together.

“What time is it?” I thought. I checked the clock on my bedside table and saw that it was 12:07 a.m. I was curious. So, I got out of my bed to check out what was going on.

At the last few steps of the stair I stopped promptly. There were almost a hundred people gathered in the living room, facing the window. The huge velvety curtains were drawn and the full moon of the night shone brightly at their faces. All of these faces bore the same expression, singing the same syllables at the same time.

Never in my life had I experienced anything such as this. I was too surprised to move. But I didn’t need to stand there for too long because someone already grabbed my waist and pulled me into a dark corridor.

A scream out of fright wanted to leave my mouth. But the person grabbed my mouth tightly, not letting a single sound escape. I was pinned to the wall and so I couldn’t move. As I calmed down, I saw it was Jimin again. His gaze was intense in my eyes. He put one of his fingers to his lips to show that I was not to make a noise. I nodded slowly to indicate that I understood. So, he let go of his hand grabbing onto my mouth.

He peeked at the living room to check if they had noticed us. He was relieved to see that the other party was unaware of our presence. He looked back at me again. His piercing look sent butterflies inside me. I was still pressed between Jimin and the wall, our chests going up and down as we breathe in union.

Then, Jimin’s hand slowly ran through my arm to hold me by the wrist. He pulled me slightly and led the way upstairs. I followed him without any hesitation. We finally reached the very top in front of the door to the attic.

The attic was filled with some old furniture and they were quite dusty. Jimin gestured to me to sit on a clean stool, still not saying anything aloud. I understood that we were still not safe to make noises. So, I sat down as quietly as I could.

Jimin had his attention outside, putting his ear closer to the door to hear what was going on. I sat there staring at his slim but seemingly strong figure without knowing what else to do. He was in his night white shirt again, showing his bare chest and looking extremely attractive for me to look away.

After what seemed like half an hour the singing stopped. There were faint sounds of footsteps, the front gate opening and vehicles starting. Silence again. Then came the clear sound of footsteps in the second floor corridor and the locking of the door. Everything suggested that Mr. and Mrs. Park had gone to bed after the guests had left.

Jimin stayed silent for a few more minutes. Then, he said, “Alright! They’ve gone to bed. As far as I know, this sleep will last until tomorrow evening.”

I still remained quiet because I didn’t know how to react just then. Jimin came closer and stood before me leaving only an inch of space between us. I looked up at his face. He smiled; which was very rare of him as I didn’t see him doing that these days after the night intrusion incident.

He bent a little forward and said, “Do you want to go out with me?”

I nodded almost immediately. It had been a month since I came into this house far away from the nearby town. And I wasn’t even allowed to leave, not even to take a walk outside. In my knowledge, I had never seen Jimin going out as well. How could he? He was allergic to the sun!

We sneaked out through a door I had never seen before into the tangerine garden at the backyard. It was larger than a regular backyard. In fact it was huge. We could be lost at this place if we weren’t careful enough as to where we were heading to.

We were walking side by side in the moonlit light. Our arms were touching for a split second every now and then. Finally, Jimin said out loud, “Can I hold your hand while we walk?”

Blood rushed to my face immediately. Hesitantly I nodded. I was glad about the fact that he was at least asking me before going for the hand directly. After how he had entered my bedroom while I was asleep, it was possible for him to grab my hand without my concern.

After some moments, Jimin asked, “Why are you so quiet?”

“I...I don’t know what to say.” I replied.

“But I know, you want to ask something. Why are you hesitating? You should know by now that you are free to talk to me about anything.”

So I decided to ask, “Who were they?”

“So straight forward! Alright! I’ll allow it.” Then, Jimin chuckled, “They were my parents’ family and friends.”

“What were they doing?” I asked directly once again. I didn’t have the patience to wait.

“Well, you see,” Jimin continued, “It is a kind of ritual, very traditional and ancient. They do it at full moon every month to show their devotion to the virgin goddess of the Moon, Artemis.”

“I don’t believe you.” I said as I found it hard to believe. But the mention of Artemis sent a shiver down my spine.

“Oh!” Jimin said, as if he was shocked, “Didn’t you know we are in a cult?”

I stopped walking and my eyes grew larger at his unusual reply. Jimin started to laugh. I shook my head. He was probably messing up with me.

But his face grew serious again. He looked at my eyes for a while. Then, his gaze travelled to my lips and stopped there. He whispered, “Can I kiss you?” while still staring at my lips.

My own attention went to his puffy red lips and I nodded. Jimin slowly came forward and kissed me softly. He pulled away a little but again pressed his puffy lips on mine, this time going harder than before. My hands were running through his soft fur like hair while he held me firmly by the waist.

I can’t tell how long our kiss lasted. But when he let go, I felt an urge to pull him back again. Then, Jimin said something which didn’t make sense to me. He said, “I'll give you a chance to run away right now.” His voice sounded dead serious which kind of scared me.

So, I said instead, “Please, let’s go back. You’re scarring me.”

A few more days passed. Jimin started to act distant in front of his parents again. And I didn’t make any move either. I was too embarrassed about the night’s incident in the tangerine field.

However, when his parents had gone out and not to be returned for the next two days, Jimin made the first move. He came to my reading room while I was reading a book. I noticed that today, he was wearing an all-white outfit contrary to his black one. Seeing him, I put the book aside.

“Hi, Jimin!” I tried to sound as normal as I could.

“I have something for you.” He handed me a bag.

I looked inside and saw that there was a lump of white clay that is used to make sculptures. I gasped in excitement, “How did you know I like to make sculptures?”

Jimin sat down on a chair beside me and shrugged, “Your Governess told me.” So, he had been inquiring about me all this time while ignoring me all the same.

“Can I try it now?” I asked, not wanting to waste a single minute.

Jimin smiled at me and said, “I don’t see why not.”

Jimin sat across the floor watching me attentively as I did what I liked to do best. Making big and small figures with clay was something I found comforting. It had been my escape in my earlier days at the orphanage.

I asked him how he got them and he informed me that his step brother liked to play with clay as well. I remembered about the accident Mrs. Park had mentioned and how close Jimin was to him. I asked him, “Do you miss him?”

“Who?” At first Jimin looked confused, then he seemed to understand whom I was directing the question to, “Oh, no! Not really. I barely remember him.”

“But I thought you liked him.”

“If I’m being honest, I despised him. That’s all.” Jimin said it so casually as if he wasn’t talking about someone who was dead. I was taken aback. I didn’t expect that answer at all.

Jimin seemed to understand it from my expression. So he further said, “He used to mock me a lot. He never called me by my name. Instead he liked to call me a ‘girl’. He seemed to enjoy calling me that.”

“I’m really sorry for that.” I said.

Jimin let out a chuckle, “Don’t be. Because all I heard was him calling me pretty and beautiful.”

“I don’t think you should despise him for that though.” I said, “You see, it’s only natural for him to be jealous of you. You were probably someone he had always dreamed to be.”

Jimin looked at me so earnestly that I wondered if I had said anything wrong. Then, he said, “Wow! I’m surprised by your take on the matter. How come I’ve never thought about it like that?” I shrugged and continued to do my work.

“So, tell me,” Jimin asked, “Are you jealous of me?”

I shook my head and said, “I’m not. But…” I stopped there. I thought of confessing the thing that had been nagging me for a while.

“But?” Jimin urged me to continue.

“I’m more uncomfortable about the fact that you are my step brother.” I finally let out the burden.

“Why?” Jimin asked, as if he didn’t get it.

I decided not to answer. Because by then, I had realized that it would be impossible to explain to Jimin why siblings shouldn’t be sexually attracted to each other.

I was preparing my bed to go to sleep early when I heard a knock on my door. I opened it immediately thinking it was Jimin and so it was. But there was an expression in his face which I had never seen before. It was fear. He barged into my room and closed the door behind.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

Jimin kept shaking his head and mumbling something under his breath. He was sweating and his movements suggested that he was worried. I tried to calm him down. I said, “Hey, Jimin, slow down. Would you like a glass of water?”

Jimin sat down on my bed promptly. Then, he looked at me and said, “You should have run away when I gave you the chance.”

“What is he talking about?” I thought.

Jimin continued, “Tonight is the night. There will be no exception. They will come. They will take you. They will…” He couldn’t finish and started to shake his head fervently.

I went to sit beside him, “Who are coming?”

“You remember the rituals, right?” He asked. “The real event is tonight. It’s a lunar eclipse. Artemis is waiting for a soul, a soul that belonged to a virgin.”

“That’s enough, Jimin!” I said. I was wondering if Jimin had actually lost his mind.

Jimin shook his head in desperation, “I’m not making this up. They had been doing it for a long time. They did the same to my previous siblings.”

“What did they do exactly?” I asked, trying to keep up with the nonsense conversation.

“They killed their earthly bodies. They called it a sacrifice for the Moon goddess.” Jimin stopped for a while and said it almost in a whisper, “Tonight, it’s you.” In the dim light of my room, Jimin looked like a lunatic.

I said, “Please, Jimin. I beg you to stop. You’re scaring me.”

“Don’t you understand, it is something you should be scared of.” Jimin screamed at me. I was too stunned to say anything anymore. This time, I was sure that Jimin was not in his right mind.

Jimin suddenly realized what he had done. He buried his head in his hands and started to cry. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state was painful. I desperately wanted to comfort him, to say something to make him feel safe.

There was a revelation in my heart at that precise moment. I realized for the first time that I was in love with him. Even if he was an insane or a dangerous man, I didn’t care about any of it. All I cared about was being there with him, through everything.

I sat there silently while Jimin cried. This continued for a while. Then, Jimin came back to his senses. He looked at me with so much sadness in his eyes and said, “Can I sleep with you tonight?” I nodded.

We climbed on to the bed together, wrapped in a blanket. I placed his head on my chest while Jimin held on to me tightly like a scared child. I kept caressing his soft hair slowly. At first, I could feel him shaking slightly. But it stopped after a while and his breathing was even. I was glad that he was asleep.

I woke up due to the sound of people singing downstairs. I looked around me. My room was empty and Jimin was nowhere to be found. As I tried to get up, I realized that I was being chained to my bed by one hand. Suddenly Jimin’s warning rang in my mind. Maybe it was all true. These people were going to sacrifice me in the name of Artemis.

I started to pull my hand as hard as I could. The sound of the people singing was surrounding my head. This time, the song sounded more melancholic than the one I heard before. I pulled and pulled until my small thin hand came out of the binding of the chain.

I moved straight to the door. It was locked. “Shit!” I swore. But I remembered about the extra key on my wardrobe and went to get it. I threw away everything out of it in search of my precious key. When I finally found it, I opened the door as noiselessly as I could.

I headed towards Jimin’s room without any delay. He was the only one who would help me in this situation. As I reached his room, I found that it was just as empty as mine. Suspicion started to grow on me. Maybe, Jimin was one of them. Intentionally or not, he would hurt me as well.

At that moment, the singing stopped. I heard the opening of the gate and footsteps of people going out just like the previous night. Only now it sounded clearer as I was not in the attic. I wondered if their so called ritual was over. I decided to go check on it myself.

At the foot of the stairs, I found that most of the people had already left and the others were on their way to leave. I sighed. So, it was just a prank Jimin was playing on me. There was nothing such as the sacrifice to the Moon goddess, even if the rituals were true.

But what I saw next, changed my mind immediately. The reddish light of the moon was glowing on a bed placed near the window. Someone was lying on the bed surrounded by blood. I was horrified to find that that someone was Jimin, himself.

“Jimin!” I screamed as I ran to his bed. Some of them were glancing at me as they went out. But they didn’t seem to care about me at all.

Jimin hadn’t died yet. He squeezed my hand with a little force as I grabbed his. He looked at me with the same sad eyes that I had seen a few hours ago. His lips were shaking. He was struggling to say something. But not a single sound escaped his mouth.

“Stay with me, Jimin.” I said, while sobbing, “Stay with me, please.”

Jimin’s body gave a violent shake for a second. Then, it was still, announcing that he had left and no matter how much I pleaded, he was not coming back to me again. As the realization kicked in, I couldn’t cry anymore.

Mrs. Park came behind me and bent down on her knees to say, “My lovely boy! How brave of him to take your place in the sacrifice willingly. You mustn’t cry, dear. He made the right decision. He is now with the goddess and a part of her hunters.”

I remained quiet. My mind couldn’t bear the fact that a mother was happy to sacrifice her only son for the pleasure of a goddess. Then, Mrs. Park left.

I sat there motionless, all alone with Jimin for quite a long time. I found that his body had grown cold. I slowly leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his cold lips. I tasted and swallowed a drop of his blood from there. Then, I looked up to the blood red moon. I whispered, “I love you.”

After months of diligent labor, my greatest creation was made. Looking at the finished face of the sculpture, for the first time in a while, a smile grew on my face. It was finally done. Now, I could rest.

“Lovely,” Mrs. Park called me, “Are you done with your work?”

“Yes, mother!” I replied, “It’s all done perfectly. Come, take a look.”

Mrs. Park walked towards the face I had created and looked at it intensely for a long time, as if she had forgotten where she was. Finally, she looked back at me. I could see tears forming in her eyes.

“It’s beautiful!” she said, “We should have her in the living room.” I nodded in agreement.

Like I had imagined, all she would see in my creation was the face of the moon goddess, Artemis. Only if she had taken a much closer look, a look from her heart and not just the eyes. She could have seen the distinct features; the sharp jaws with chubby cheeks, the tired looking pleasant eyes and puffy lips.

It was the face of my Jimin. The Jimin who was no less in beauty compared to that of any mortal or God. The Jimin whose bravery was far better than the hunters of Artemis. The Jimin who was the representation of love in a human form.

Why would I be devoted to a mere goddess when I had already seen something much more beautiful in a mortal?

Mrs. Park made her appearance once more as I was showing no sign to break my attention from the sculpture. “Your sister has arrived.” She announced, “You have to welcome her.”

“I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Don’t forget to put on your best dress.” She reminded me for the millionth time, “You are allergic to the sun, remember?”

Special 8 Photo-folio Masterlist

My Personal Masterlist

AMELIA HAHAHAHAAA. giiirrrrllll trust me when I say this: but me freaking too omfggg, this chim .......... your mans has been slithering his way into my heart and idk how I feel about it lmfaoooo.

ughhh-- but omg, tysm for the review<3 I'm so glad you enjoyed it as much as I did!!! Is this the end of the first steps couple, is it only the beginning?? Who knows (;

Jealousy & Parties - pjm

pairings: first steps couple

synopsis: sometimes, your husband can get a little jealous.

genre: some fluff, SMUT

warning(s): unprotected sex, choking, exhibitionism (kinda, LOL), doggy, ass spanking, mature language (use of the word slut), dom!jimin, sub!reader, dirty talk, jealous!jimin, possessive themes (not in a toxic way!!! Jimin just loves his wife!!!), biting/marking, oral (m. receiving), cream pie.

word count: 3.3k

note(s): okay listen, I've been getting waaaay too many jealousy dreams about the boys, so I wrote it. LOL. I really should be focusing on my fics (that are hopefully coming soooooon!!!!), but I couldn't shy away from jealous husband Jimin! Please ignore any mistakes... I didn't edit it this time LOL.

“Baby, are all the cupcakes set up?” You called to your husband as you dressed up Nari in her cute little purple dress. Thankfully, today Nari seemed to know it was something special, she wasn’t as fussy as she normally was when you tried putting dresses on her.

Today was Nari’s 1st birthday party, you and Jimin have been preparing for, for weeks now. You had made sure that all the decorations were made and hung up around your home, the arrangements for the cake was set, and of course, the abundant amount of gifts that you had bought for her was wrapped and set around in the living room. Jimin and you have strived all week to ensure that everything was set for her first milestone, and you both couldn’t be prouder of the turn out.

“Yeahp!” Jimin comes strolling into your shared bedroom; he sports a denim jacket, and his new hair; a shade of purple that matches the color of your own dress, while it contrasts with Nari’s plum purple. It was a lot of convincing for you to get Jimin on board with Nari’s purple themed party (he really insisted on pink, because he’s always loved pink on her, and you, but he was easily swayed when you had mentioned that you were buying his favorite chocolate cake from the bakery down the street), but like the loving husband that he was, he agreed uttering out “happy wife, happy life”, and here you were today. Ready to give your little bundle of joy the party of her life, whether she remembers it or not, most likely not, you were proud of the work you and your husband had put into it. You both could tackle anything if you both were able to pull this off.

“Hun, the boys will be here in a few minutes, I’ll just go wait by the door, okay?” Jimin jogs over to you giving your cheek a quick kiss, “look at you baby, so, so pretty, just like your mommy.” He tickles Nari, earning giggles from your baby, as she flails her arms reaching for her dad as he smothered her in kisses.

“Here she’s done, you can take her.” You say giving the squirming one-year old to your husband, “I’ll just clean up quickly and I’ll be down!”

Jimin coos at your little girl giving you a soft okay as the two pattered out of the bedroom, leaving you to quietly put away Nari’s pajamas. Your heart warmed at the thought that you and Jimin had been raising this amazing little girl for a whole year. You remember how happy you and Jimin were when you first found out that you were pregnant with her; the boys were just as excited, if not more, than you and Jimin. They were ecstatic to be having their first niece; you remember just how excited you both were when Jin said that him and Sunmi were pregnant with their son, Daemin. Because Daemin was the very first cousin, amongst the boys, he was ridiculously spoiled. You all showered him in many gifts, clothes, toys, you name it; he got it.

Then when you and Jimin were expecting, and when the boys found out it was a girl, they went ballistic. They gifted you many things, from toys, to dresses, to little shoes to match all of them; Nari received so much love from her uncles. You couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

“Jagi!” Jimin called, “Everyone’s here babe!”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you closed Nari’s drawers, dusting off your hands and heading down to the party to greet your guests.

* * *

“How’re you doing, Y/n?”

You looked beside you to see Jimin’s best friend out of the boys, Taehyung. If you were close to anyone in the group, other than your husband, it’d be Taehyung. Yours and Taehyung’s relationship is nothing but friendly, nothing more; you are married to Jimin after all, and you love Jimin very much and vice versa, anyone with eyes could tell that the two of you are smitten for each other.

“I’m doing great, Tae.” You smiled up at the curly haired boy, “How’re you doing?”

Taehyung smirked, giving off his signature wink, “Great, now that you’re here.” You both chuckle at his attempt to flirt with you. Naturally, Taehyung was very flirty, with everyone, so, you always thought nothing of it, plus, you’re his best friends wife, Taehyung would never do something like that to Jimin.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” You asked as you watched Nari giggling on the couch with your parents, who came shortly after the boys did. Jimin’s mother and father sat next to your own, cooing and chuckling at Nari as they played with her. Jin and Yoongi were standing in the kitchen standing over the cake that they had picked up for you; Hobi, Namjoon, and Jungkook sat by the windowsill with their wives, talking in hushed whispers and sharing a few laughs.

“Of course, I am,” Taehyung playfully shoves your shoulder, earning a giggle from you, “You and Chim did a great job!” Wrapping his arm around you to pull you into a side hug, you peered up at Taehyung in fits of giggles. As the two of you were lost in your little world, someone cleared their throat behind you.

“Y/n, your parents are taking Nari tonight, figured we’d have a quiet house to clean up.” Jimin’s sultry voice fills your ears, except his stare wasn’t as soft and loving as it normally was. His stare was hard and he wasn’t focusing on your eyes, but rather, his eyes were zeroed in on Taehyung’s arm that was still placed around your shoulders.

“Hey Chim!” Taehyung’s boxy smile appears as he glanced at your husband, to which Jimin nods stiffly, not returning the sweet gesture, Taehyung immediately removes his arm from you, nervously coughing.

“Sure, bub.” You say, making your way to him and wrapping your arms around him, only for Jimin to possessively snake his own arm around your waist, gripping it tightly. Letting out a surprised gasp at his roughness, you eyed Taehyung who’s eyes were now bulging out of his sockets.

“Jimin.” You hissed, suddenly feeling heat rush to your cheeks and in between your legs with his sudden possessiveness.

“You,” He aggressively whispers into your ear, “are my wife, not Taehyung-ah’s,” Jimin’s grip tightened around your waist, “seems like you’ll need a reminder tonight.” He bites the shell of your ear gently, before pulling away and giving you his genuine smile.

The duality.

“Yes, Jagi?” Jimin asks you, teases you, knowing full well what he just whispered to you only seconds ago. You were left gobsmacked as Jimin’s hand trails down to your ass, giving it a squeeze, still aware that Taehyung was in front of the two of you. You and Jimin were never to shy away from PDA, kissing here and there, but never has he publicly shown the type of person he was behind closed doors. It seemed too teenager-ish to the two of you, at least that was one of the many things you both had the same opinion on… However, it seems that tonight he thought otherwise.

“Uh-“ Tae chokes out, “I’ll-uh, it’s late.” Coming over to shake Jimin’s hand. Jimin gave his friend a tight-lipped smile, gripping his hand tightly, “See ya, Chim.” Taehyung pulls him into a hug, and your husband gladly returns it, patting his back. When the two pull away, Jimin held his eye disappearing smile, as Tae shifted uncomfortably in his gaze, before giving you a small wave and retreating back to the party to say his own good-byes.

“What was that?” You bit at your husband, who turned to you in confusion. Shrugging his shoulders, his smile dropped.

“Once everyone leaves and your parents take Nari for the night,” He steps closer to you, “I expect you on our bed, naked, and on all fours waiting for me,” His voice dropped several octaves, making you clench your legs together, “If you’re not, it seems I’ve been too lenient towards you, baby.”

With that Jimin pulls back, giving you a smirk and walking towards your guests that were packing up to leave, departing from you, his extremely frustrated wife.

* * *

It had felt like hours.

Not wanting to disobey Jimin and risk getting a punishment, you were bent over on your bed, completely at his mercy, for whenever he decides to come back to your room.

After Jimin had left you, you followed after him to say goodbye to your guests, while Jimin didn’t seem affected by your encounter, you had become quieter, but thankfully no one noticed; except Jimin. While bidding your fellow family and friends farewell, Jimin had done nothing but tease you. His arm was always around your waist, kneading the flesh in the palms of his hand, squeezing here and there; his hand would travel its way down your back, landing on your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze when you were talking, causing you to gasp which didn’t go unnoticed by your guest; he would be chatting and laughing with someone while he smoothed your hair, roughly gripping it time to time, that made you squeeze your legs shut, to prevent yourself from dripping down your legs.

Your insatiable husband did not make tonight easy for you.

“Oh,” His sultry voice echoed in the room causing you to bite your lip as you felt yourself dripping onto the bed, “What a good girl.” You suddenly felt a presence behind your bent over figure, and you couldn’t help but squirm. Looking behind you, Jimin’s eyes were trained on your sopping center before his dark eyes trailed up your spine to greet your own.

“You and Taehyung-ah were quite close tonight hm?” Jimin traces his finger down your slit, gathering your wetness and rubbing it gently against your clit. You shut your eyes squishing your face in your pillow, mewling out.

But Jimin didn’t like that.

His hand roughly grasped your hair in a makeshift ponytail, and turned your head towards your left hand, the big diamond that graced it in your line of vision.

“Tell me Jagi,” Jimin breathes against the shell of your ear, “who’s ring is on your finger, hm?” Tugging your hair harder, you bite back a moan.

“Yours.” Jimin hums in approval.

“That’s right, baby. My ring is on your finger. You are my wife. You are the mother of my child.” Jimin grunts out his hand slithering down to your neck and gripping it; not enough to completely cut off your air supply, but enough for you to roll your eyes back in ecstasy.

“You’re so pretty,” Jimin mumbles against your neck, peppering kisses and sucking harshly at the junction between your neck and collarbone; your weak spot, that he knows all too well. “Love seeing my little wife so submissive for me. Just for me, isn’t that right, jagi?” No longer able to hold your moans in, you frantically grab Jimin’s hair, tilting your head to give him more room to plant more of his marks on you.

“Just yours,” You moaned, “Ji-Jimin,” You choked out as his free hand slithers its way to cup your mound, teasing his finger against your waiting hole. Whining in need, you thrust your hips in attempt to get his finger to slip in, but Jimin squeezes your throat harder.

“What do you want?” He growled, “I’ve been too nice to you baby, thinking you could get away with wearing a dress like that?” You could feel Jimin’s hardened length press against your ass, him pushing up into you; another one of his ways he’s been teasing you.

“Don’t act like you didn’t see Taehyung’s eyeing your tits,” Jimin continues to refuse you the feeling of his fingers inside you, only circling your clit once in a while, earning a groan of frustration from you.

“N-no,” You cry, “I didn’t, I swear—only eyes for you, Chim, please.” Jimin’s hand around your throat disappears and a sharp slap fills your ears and the sting on your ass causes you to yelp.

“You can beg better than that,” Another slap to your ass causes you to fall forward, “C’mon, pet, beg for me, or maybe you want to be left all alone and needy, maybe I should call Tae and see if he’d want to fuck my wife.” Jimin’s jealousy complex was shining through, and it made your aching pussy want him more.

“No!” You cried, clenching around nothing, “P-please, Jimin, want you—only you, want your cock in me, pl-please.” Your mind was in a haze, the only thought that you had was Jimin pounding into you and proving that his cock was what you wanted, what you needed.

Jimin coos, pushing your head down and the sound of him unbuckling his belt hurriedly, makes you drip in desire, “So pretty for me, baby.” You feel his fingertips trail your spine, a chill creeping down with every stroke of his finger, but before you could bask in the gentleness from him, you were roughly pulled to stand; Jimin’s hands gripping your arms and pushing you towards the floor-to-ceiling window that led to your balcony. Harshly spinning you around to slam your back against the wall, Jimin’s face was only centimeters away from your own. His eyes dark and full of lust, while you gasp for air.

“On your knees.” His demand has your scrambling to the floor, greeted by his thick member in front of your face. Staring up at your husband, Jimin cocks and eyebrow, “Well?” He snapped; rolling his eyes, Jimin grips your hair and thrusts into your throat roughly, not giving you time to adjust to the intrusion. Times like this you were thankful for not having a gag reflex.

“Fuck,” Jimin seethes through his teeth, hooded eyes watching you take his length into your mouth, “Who’s cock is claiming your mouth hm?” His hand grips your hair, shoving you harder against him, “because it sure as hell isn’t Taehyung’s.” Jimin continues his rough assault on your willing mouth, holding your head and pushing you down onto him, your nose brushing against his pubic bone. Your jaw was aching, but you couldn’t help but admire Jimin’s eyes that were shut in absolute pleasure; pleasure from you. The lewd sounds of your mouth taking his cock and his moans made you wetter than you already were; if that was even possible.

Jimin roughly pulls you off his cock, pumping his member in his hands before you quickly got up off the floor and pulled his lips to yours.

Moaning in each other’s mouths, Jimin’s free hand pulled you closer to him. It was the first time you two had kissed tonight, with all the teasing and the inappropriate touching, the kiss was what made you fall in love with Jimin all over again. It was heated, but the love and passion that you and Jimin have had through all the years, was always in your kisses. His mouth chases after yours as you lean against the cold window, as his tongue makes itself familiar with yours. Jimin gently bites down on your bottom lip, before pulling away, and turning you to press your front against the coldness.

“So pretty, so perfect.” Jimin runs his leaking tip against your soaked cunt, teasing you even more by pushing the head in, only to pull it right back out, and dragging it up and down your slit. “Such a good cock-slut for me,” He whispers.

“Chim-“ You choke, thrusting back into him, both of you moaning at the intrusion of Jimin’s tip in you, “Please, God, please fuck me, wanna cum.” You whine.

“So, good for me.” With that Jimin pushes his entire length in you, moaning at the feel of your tightness wrapped around him. Biting his lip, Jimin groans, “Oh fuck.”

“Shit.” You gasp, as Jimin slams into you, your chests pressed against the window, praying that no one walks by your house as his cock splits you open. Moaning out his name with each powerful thrust, Jimin pulls your head back with your hair, tilting it to give his lips access to your neck again, where he sucks pink hues onto your neck. His tongue travelling up to reach your cheeks, giving you soft pecks and breathy moans, that only spurred you on to grind back against him, needing to feel him deeper.

“Fuck, jagi,” slamming his hips harder against your ass, your forehead falling to press up against the window, heavy pants escaping your lips when Jimin’s hands ventures towards your breasts, cupping them firmly while he pulls you harder against him, “You feel so fucking good.” Jimin lifts your leg and propping it up slightly to angle him deeper, he growls at the newfound position, loving every second of it.

“Ji-Jimin,” You mewl, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach as Jimin continues to pound into you.

“You gonna cum for me?” He speeds up his thrusts, you could’ve sworn you felt him in your stomach, “Moan for me, Y/n.” And you do. You moan loudly at how Jimin fills up your cunt amazingly, the feel of his thick cock slipping in and out of you with so much ease, the way you feel your own wetness coats the inside of your legs. “Who’s name are you moaning, baby?” Jimin hums, harshly slapping your ass.

Once.

Twice.

“That’s it baby, cum around my cock. Make a mess on me—shit, that’s it.” Jimin loses his mind watching you shamelessly using him to get yourself off, he’s almost feral with how hard he sinks his dick into you, deeper than he’s ever been.

And you’re equally loosing your own mind, head absolutely empty—other that the thought of you need to cum. Not even a second later, you’re falling apart on your husband’s dick, whimpering, and whining at how he continues to fuck you through your high, your arousal dripping down his shaft.

“Jimin,” You whisper his name as if it were a prayer and Jimin gladly continues to roll his hips into yours.

“So, so good baby.” His hips pausing as he thrusts harder, nearing his high as you feel him twitch inside you, “oh sh-shit.” Jimin groans spilling his hot seed inside you. You bite your lip at the feeling of him completely filling you up, resting against the window that cooled you off after your intense activity. Jimin stays inside you, gently letting your leg go, and hugging you from behind. He peppers kisses on your shoulders and kisses just underneath your earlobe.

“Why were you so aggressive tonight,” You hummed now leaning back against him; Jimin’s fingers draw circles on your hips, still holding you against him as you two look outside and enjoying the gleam of the stars.

“Didn’t like the way Tae was flirting.”

“Wha-“ You giggle, finally allowing Jimin’s dick to slip out of you, the both of you hissed at the sensitivity, and you take his hand, leading him to your bed, “Oh, Chim… You couldn’t possibly be jealous of me talking to Taehyungie, were you?” Jimin pouts, slipping under the covers with you, holding you close.

“No…” He grumbles, nuzzling into your neck, “Not really.” You let out a breathy laugh wrapping your own arms around him.

“Chim, I married you,” You kiss his forehead, “I’m wearing your wedding ring,” You kiss his cheek, “and I had your baby.” You kiss his nose, “What have you got to worry about?” Jimin whines, tightening his arms around you.

“Absolutely nothing,” He sighs, “it’s not my fault you’re so hot.” He grunts into your neck.

Giggling to yourself you plant a lingering kiss on his lips, “You’re silly… I love you.” Jimin smiles lazily, deepening the kiss and rolling on top of you.

“I love you,” He repeats, pulling away gently before pecking your lips once more, “forever.”

a/n: so this was stuck too long in my WIP it might feel a little rushed at the end but  I’ve been in a slump for awhile so this is a small win to be able to finished. I hope you like demon Jimin. 

Warning: 18+, minors DNI, virgin reader, deception, a little Stockholm Syndrome-ish, death/suicide insinuated (this one’s dark, so please be caution before reading)

Summary: Having an imaginary friend is normal for most kids. What’s not normal is when you don’t outgrow it well in your teens. He’s persistent and possessive but when you meet who you thought was the love of your life, can you really deny your own heart? Even when he’s a demon lord?

Pairing: Park Jimin x you, Kim Taehyung, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin

Tags: Demon Jimin! Yandere Jimin! Penetrative sex, controlling partner, deception, dom Jimin ofc because obviously this is supposed to be Set Me Free inspired.

Word count: 14k

FIVE

The small hand wrapped around the pencil made the stationery look twice its usual size, gliding over the white paper as the little girl scribbled, forehead creasing in concentration, tongue sticking out. 

“What are you drawing?” her mother asked, leaning over to see the purple drawing. It’s a little difficult to make out but she can see two stick figures, one sitting down at a table with pigtails, drawing something, the other hunched down in the corner of the room. The woman pointed to the figure with pigtails. “Is that you, sweetie?”

The little girl nodded, pigtails flying into her face. 

“And who’s this?” her mother pointed to the figure in the corner.

Without looking up, the pencil still moving over the paper as she added in more details, she answered, “Jimin.”

“Who’s Jimin? Is he your new friend from kindergarten?”

The girl shook her head. 

Her mother frowned, a little confused. “Oh? Is he one of the Kim boys? I forgot their names.”

Again, the girl shook her head. She finally stopped drawing and looked up to her mother, sighing as if annoyed she had to explain this simple thing. “No. Jimin lives in my closet, mummy. He doesn’t go outside.”

Her mother’s blood ran cold, the words stuck in her throat. She watched her daughter go back to drawing, not even realising the way her mother’s heart was going wild. She licked her lips and tried to calm herself. An imaginary friend. That’s all, she thought. “I see. I didn’t know you have a friend in your closet. Is he a little boy?”

The girl sighed. “Of course. He’s my age.” She paused, putting the end tip of the pencil to her lips. “I think.”

The mother breathed a sigh of relief. She stood up and ruffled the little girl’s head. “Okay. Well, make sure you two play nicely, okay? And clean up after you’re done playing. Got it?”

“Okay, mummy,” the girl said, going back to her little art. Just as her mother was about to leave the room, the woman heard the girl continue to talk. “Did you hear that, Minnie? We can’t make any messes, okay? Or I’ll get in trouble.”

The woman smiled bitterly to herself. Being a single mother is hard enough and her daughter having an imaginary friend only further proves how lonely she was. She just hopes the Kim boys will be good friends with her, enough so that she won’t need an imaginary friend anymore. New place, new possibility, right? 

Sighing, she disappeared into the kitchen. “Honey, we're leaving in ten minutes. I need you to be ready by then,” she shouted over her shoulder as she prepared the girl’s overnight bag for the Kim’s household.

THIRTEEN

“Give it back, Taehyung! Give it back!”

You chase the laughing boy around the kitchen island, grabbing an apple from the bowl, ready to lug it at his head when Jin appears around the corner and easily plucks the ribbon from Taehyung’s hand. He gestures for the apple instead and you exchange the items; throwing the apple his way as he slides the ribbon across the island. “Thanks,” you say to him as Taehyung sulks. “It’s good to know not all of you are jackasses.”

Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you before going upstairs to his room, leaving you with the eldest. Munching on the apple, Jin points to the ribbon. “Another award?”

You nod, suddenly shy. “Yeah.”

“Oh, which one?” he asks, intrigues.

“Jimin.”

Jin chuckles. “Don’t you draw anything else?” 

“I do,” you snap, the shyness quickly replaced with annoyance. “But the Jimin ones always come out the best. And why is everyone so pressed about what I paint?”

“Because,” Jin says, taking another bite of the apple, “you’re literally drawing a ghost. He doesn’t exist yet he’s so,” he waves his hand around, “vivid. Enough for you to paint him like that. You’re obsessed with him.”

“I’m not obsessed!” you retort. “And he’s not a ghost.”

“Right. Your imaginary friend when you were five,” Jin adds. “That you keep drawing even until today. It is a little weird considering the fact that you’re drawing him the same age as you.”

You shoot him a dirty look. “Aren’t you going to class or something?”

Jin laughs. “I am.” He picks up his bag and slung it over one shoulder. “And this is my house, by the way.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Fine. I’m leaving anyway.”

“I’ll drive you home,” Jin offers.

“No, thanks. I’ll walk. I don’t want to meet your college friends,” you say, hurrying out the back door before he can protest. You stuff the blue ribbon into your bag and briskly walk up the street to your place. 

“You’re angry. Why?”

“I’m not,” you huff out, keeping your eyes up front. 

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re lying to me.”

At the change of Jimin’s tone of voice, you finally turn around to look at him. His eyes have grown darker, pupils dilating to the point that the whites of his eyes are gone. The stormy look on his face is enough to scare you to admit the truth. “I don’t like it when people talk about you like I’m crazy.”

“Why do you care what others think?” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You don’t answer, looking down at your feet sullenly as you walk. 

“And what’s with Jin, huh?” he prods, leaning close to your face. “I told you to keep away from him. I told you to keep away from all of them.”

“They’re nice,” you say lamely. “I don’t know what your problem is with them.”

“They’re always trying to break us apart. I don’t like anyone who tries to break us apart.”

You remain quiet the rest of the way home because arguing with him is futile. He always gets his way, you think, as Jimin places a cold hand on your shoulder, his fingertips sinking into your flesh.

TWENTY

The world is spinning a mile a minute and the arm wrapped around your middle is only making you want to puke even more. 

Namjoon slowly places you across the sofa, making sure both your feet are up before he finally fully lets you go; gently, of course. He rushes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and an ibuprofen for when you wake up just as Taehyung emerges from the bathroom with a bucket to place by your side. 

You’re murmuring something, your words slurred, making it hard for Taehyung to understand. He puts his ear close to your mouth, listening hard in case you’re telling him something important. 

“What’s she saying?” Namjoon asks as he comes back in. He places the glass of water on the coffee table and the painkiller tablet next to it. “Damn, maybe we should’ve gone easy for her first time drinking.”

Taehyung shrugs, motioning for him to stay quiet. 

“Jimin,” you mumble through barely opened lips. “Don’t hurt them.”

Taehyung backs away, eyebrows raised all the way up. He turns to his older brother. “She’s calling for Jimin.”

Namjoon’s face clouds over, frowning in concern. “I thought she'd gotten over that phase years ago.”

  “Jimin, Jimin,” you call out, your voice growing louder, somewhat distraught. Taehyung and Namjoon exchange glances, unsure of what to do. Just as it suddenly started, you become quiet, breathing evens out as you sleep. Occasionally, your forehead creases over like you’re having a bad dream but the two brothers are just relieved that you’re passed out. 

“That was” Namjoon says, “unnerving.”

Taehyung gently pushes back your hair from your face, subtly caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. He thinks Namjoon doesn’t see it but if he did the older one remains quiet. Taehyung stands up. “I’ve texted her mum. She’ll be home soon. Let’s go.”

“You sure we can leave her alone?” Namjoon looks unsure about leaving but he also can’t deny the unsettling feeling creeping down his back, like he’s being watched. 

Taehyung hesitates before answering, “She’s sleeping now. Should be fine. Come on.”

In the old leather armchair in the corner of the room, Jimin watches as the two Kim brothers walk out of the house, not missing the way Taehyung looks back at you before closing the door behind him. He had seen the way that boy touched you, had seen the way he had pined over you all these years yet you never listen. 

Jimin squats down next to your head, one finger tracing the outline of your face. “I told you to stay away from those boys but you never listen to me,” he whispers, his words piercing straight into your dreams. “And here you are, drunk from your first time drinking. Twentieth birthday and you spent it with them.” You moan, turning your head away. Jimin smiles but there’s no tenderness in his face. 

When you open your eyes, the room is pitch black, so dark that even the bed underneath you is invisible. You turn your head, trying to look around but one movement makes you realise that both your wrists are shackled to the bedposts, or what looks like the direction of where the bedposts are supposed to be. The iron chains clang noisily as you pull on them. Immediately, your heart drops. 

“Jimin,” you call out, your voice coming out weak. “Jimin, please. Where are you? You know I don’t like being here alone.”

“I know, my sweetness,” comes his voice from within the darkness. He materialises in front of you, standing at the foot of what is supposed to be the bed in his usual all black leather pants and boots. He’s bare from the waist up, his toned body on full display; something that’s never happened before. “It’s amusing that after all this time, you still haven’t gotten used to this place.”

“Get these chains off, please,” you say, doing your best to keep your voice soft despite the panic rising in your chest. Yes, you’ve been in this space before but never like this. Something is different. “My wrists hurt.”

Jimin tuts, shaking his head. “Not yet. They need to be on for now.”

“What’s going on? Why is it different this time?”

“Because, my love,” he says, walking over to your side, the echoes of the heels of his shoes loud in your ears, “today’s your twentieth birthday. It’s time for your initiation.”

“Initiation?” you ask, looking up at him. 

“Yes, love. Have you forgotten?” He places a hand on your head, the icy cold of his skin making you shiver to the bones. 

“For what?”

Jimin smiles widen, something that has never offered warmth for as long as you’ve known him. Something inside you withers in fear but you can’t deny the other sensation starting up like a fire being lit up at the sight of his beautiful face split by that awful, awful smile. Jimin kneels down on one knee, bringing his face close to yours. “To entwine your soul with mine.”

A dry chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop yourself. “ You’d have to be real to have a soul, Minnnie. You’re just a…”

The look on Jimin’s face takes away the words from your tongue. He knows something you don’t, something you’ve had a hunch about all these years yet had been too stubborn or too scared to actually make yourself face it. With a blink, Jimin’s eyes turn jet black and your breath is stuck in your throat. “What are you?”

Jimin lets out a laugh, a loud belly-aching, rumbling laugh that seems to echo all around the space as he throws his head back. It’s not a nice sound and yet he never ceases to look just as mesmerising as always. The contradiction is throwing you off. 

“Fifteen years and only now you’re asking,” says Jimin when he finally stops, looking down at you with such pity. “I think it’s too little too late, my sweetness.”

You gulp tightly around the lump in your throat. “And what if I refuse? To do the initiation?”

The smile is quickly wiped off his face and suddenly he’s on top of you, straddling your chest but not really sitting. He leans his arms over the wall behind you, sneering down at you in a way that strikes both fear and anticipation of what he can and will do, making your stomach turn in a somersault. “It’s not a choice, love,” he hisses, his breath hot on your cheek. “I will have you, one way or the other.”

The menacing tone of his voice makes your heart beat faster. “Wh-what do you mean? Jimin, you’re scaring me,” you stutter out, the chains around your wrists rattling ominously. “I want to go back. Take me back, Minnie.”

“I will, just not right now,” he purrs into your ears. “Honestly, I’m hurt. Your twentieth and you celebrated with others, the Kim brothers no less. And you ignored me the whole night.”

“They threw me a surprise birthday party,” you counter, pleading. “How can I just walk away? They’ve been nothing but nice to me. They’re like my own brothers. They took care of me when my mother wasn’t around.”

“I took care of you!” he bellows, his eyes burning red this time. “I kept you company all of those times you’d cry yourself to sleep missing your dear mummy. I chased away all the bad dreams at night, I stayed with you every night when you couldn’t sleep without a night light on. Not them! They just swoop in when you move into a new place, free babysitting for your neglectful mother. They did all the easy work.”

You can’t help the way your throat constricts from being yelled at, something Jimin, in all his sadistic traits, had never actually done. Jimin sees the way your face crumples as you bite on your upper lip to keep them from wobbling and he cools off a little. He leans his forehead against yours, his dark fringe falling over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. You ignored me at the party.”

Your heart jumps at the sight of him sad. You try to touch him but your wrists are still bound, clanging the chains noisily when you move. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I- I got carried away. I was overwhelmed. There were so many people. You know I won’t ignore you on purpose, Minnie.” 

Jimin stares into your eyes, that same puppy-like look still swimming in his gaze, the kind of look that melts you so easily. It effectively wrecks you with guilt whenever you do something he doesn’t approve of, an ammo he’s used over and over again throughout the years. You lean into him as best you can with the chains’ restriction. “You believe me, right? Minnie? You know I need you.”

“Do you? After all these years, I’m starting to think you’ve forgotten that promise you made me,” he says, visibly pouting, sounding the saddest he had ever been. “You promised me that you won’t ever leave me if I keep the monsters away.”

You lick your lips and nod. Yes, you remember that promise, made when you were five, that first night he climbed out of your closet last, after all the other shadows came out first. In return to keep you safe from the others, you made that promise that only a child could. 

“I’ve kept the monsters away, haven’t I?”

You nod. 

“I’ve kept you safe every night from then on, haven’t I?”

You nod again.

“And so why do you choose the brothers over me?”

You swallow, shaking your head. “I don’t. I choose you.”

The corner of Jimin’s lips twitch. “You do?”

You give a small nod. 

“Really? I’m not convinced,” he states, readjusting his position, sitting a bit lower so that he rests on your pelvic bone. 

“I do,” you whisper out, feeling the heat creeping up from your waist down. It’s an odd feeling, something that has never happened before. 

Jimin’s more of a childhood friend, imaginary as he is. You both grew up together, just you and him against the world when your world had been so dark and so lonely, back when your mother would leave for work before the sun had even risen and come home when you’re already asleep. He was your saviour first then a friend, a protector and a companion but somewhere between being a tween and when puberty hits, he became a deep, dark secret. 

No one could see him and after enduring being called a liar and ostracised in the first grade, you learnt the hard way to keep your mouth shut and pretend he wasn’t there following you everywhere you go when in public. You told everyone that Jimin had disappeared, that you had outgrown him just as any children with their own imaginary friends. Only the paintings remain. In truth, you’re not even sure why you painted him in the first place but those paintings are the only times when people would actually listen when you talk about him. In the past tense, of course. 

Jimin is beautiful. He’s ethereal and your paintings of him were haunting. They evoke emotions from those who see them, making them pause and stare and weep if they look too long. You don’t paint him a lot, only five among the hundreds of canvases, one for each time Jimin had brought you into this dark space you don’t have a name for, yet they attracted the most attention, so much so that you got a full ride to the Royal College of Art. But Jimin won’t let you go. 

Jimin grinds onto you, leaning over so his face is inches from yours. “You do what? Give me the full sentence, love.”

Your throat is dry but you force your voice out anyway. “I choose you, Jimin.”

“Always?”

You whimper as he presses his crotch against yours, the sneer back on his face. “Always.”

The first time Jimin brought you into this space, you were six. It was an escape, a quiet safe space from the raging storm outside and your mother was still not home. You two had huddled together. The second time was at twelve, when your mother’s boyfriend of 6-months kept creeping into your room at night. Jimin had been furious then and while you hid in this space, Jimin promised you he would tell the man to stay away. He never returned to the house since and though your mother cried for his disappearance, claiming that she’d been ghosted, whatever that meant, you had been the happiest.

At fourteen, when the boy you thought you liked, asked you out as a prank for the whole class to laugh at you, the dark space was where you ran to hide, sobbing into Jimin’s embrace. It had been at the end of the school year but when the new semester started, the boy and his family had left town so suddenly that people only heard about it two weeks after. Taehyung had said, “Good riddance,” and even though you were relieved, it had felt too coincidental.

It was at sixteen when the hunch came about, growing in the pit of your stomach like some kind of fungus. A family had just moved in next door and they had a son, Adam, a year older than you; shy and sweet-seeming the first time he came around with his parents, exchanging pleasantries and jokes with your mum at the front door. They moved in the middle of the year and your mum had assured Adam that you would show him the ropes at school, to which you had obliged. Both you and Taehyung had gladly taken him under your wings, including him into your fold of friend group (which included only you and the Kim brothers, really). 

It took him less than three months to finally show his true colours. He had broken into your house when nobody was home and when you came back from your part-time job at the yoghurt shop, he had sprang out from the closet and pinned you to the bed. You don’t remember the rest of the details, except seeing Jimin looming behind him. You blinked and you were in the dark space, away and safe from danger. The next morning, his parents found him hanging in his closet, stiff and blue. They moved away shortly after that.

“I prefer you being here with me, mind, body and soul,” drawls Jimin, pulling you back to the now. “Where did you go?”

You’re pulled away from your train of thoughts and see Jimin leaning over you, eyes black, anger written all over his face. “Sorry,” you whisper. 

“You’ve chosen me,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Act like it.”

He grabs your sides, nails digging into your flesh and you wince in pain. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I’m here. With you.” You take a deep breath. “Mind, body and soul.”

“As you should,” he says, his voice softening. He nuzzles your neck and you feel his teeth nip just along the collarbone. “Tonight, you will officially be mine.”

You feel his hands move slowly to your chest, softly kneading your breasts while his mouth never leaves your neck. You feel him press himself flat against you, the bulge in his pants so prominent you can feel the shape of him. You lay there, frozen, unable to say no nor even move away. Your heart is in your mouth and you’re too afraid that if you say something, it’s going to jump out and you’ll be dead. 

Jimin pulls away, staring directly into your eyes. The jet black orbs in his sockets reflect back your fear-stricken face but he isn’t fazed. He smiles and your stomach twists and before you can do anything (not that you are capable anyway), his lips are on yours and it feels like your whole body is on fire, and not the good kind either. Your lips feel like someone had stuck live wires directly to them and the burning pain makes you scream out, muffled by his mouth. Tears pool in your eyes.

Then you feel his tongue snake in and your eyes widen in surprise: a forked tongue. You struggle to get away but Jimin holds the back of your head in place, grabbing a fistful of your hair. The chains around your wrists clang noisily next to your ears as you start to squirm under him. Squirm as you are, your mouth seems to be reacting the opposite way; moulding with his like they want to be fused together; you both want him and are disgusted by him, lips pulling him in, body resisting. He finally pulls back, displeased.

“I want to go back. Please,” you sob, unable to hold back the tears anymore.

“We’re not done yet,” he says, forked tongue catching the tears. “I haven’t even started, my sweetness.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Start?”

“The initiation, you silly goose.” He continues to lick down your neck, catching your earlobe in between his teeth. 

You swallow hard. “Jimin, what is the initiation?”

“You have to give me something you’ve never given anyone else before,” he whispers into your ear and the hairs on your neck and arms stand on end. He moves to the other ear to add, “Your virginity, my love. Your one and only. It shall be mine.”

Jimin’s fingers unbutton your jeans and just as he’s about to shimmy it down, your brain clicks and you finally yell out, “Wait!”

Jimin lets out a growl, raising only his ember eyes to glare at you. “What?”

You’re breathing hard as your mind races to try and find a good excuse. You’ve never even had a boyfriend, never even got the chance to go on a first date. While your female friends, limited in number as they are, gushed about their partners, about the things they would do, about the sweet little gifts they’d get on Valentine’s, you had smiled and been happy for them, doing your best to ignore the bitter feelings clawing at the back of your throat. 

You’ve had suitors, of course, but for some reason they never stick around. They’d ask you out but then stood you up when you arrived with not even a text to explain or apologise. If they managed to get past the first date, you never hear from them again after it ends. You’re only twenty, your whole life is ahead of you. It’s stupid but you want your first time with a man to be special. You want to be loved up, taken out on dates, wooed off your feet and be promised the world even if it’s all a lie. 

Jimin is looking at you, head tilted to the side. “You want all that?”

You stare at him. “Huh?”

Jimin frowns. “All the things you were thinking about just now. You want all that?”

 “How-”

“Just answer the question,” he snaps impatiently.

You nod, unable to say the words. Jimin sighs, tilting his head upwards like he’s facing with a minor inconvenience. “But why? It’s such a waste of time.”

“I-,” you stutter but clear your throat and try again, although your voice comes out small. “I’ve never experienced it. I want to know what it feels like. All this time I’ve only ever seen others go through it and I just…I just want to know what it feels like. To fall in love and to be loved.”

When Jimin doesn’t say anything, you quickly add, “I won’t…I won’t have to sleep with the person. I can tell them I’m waiting for marriage.” At this Jimin snorts but you ignore him. “Just…just let me experience all that and then you…you can have my…my everything.”

You’re not sure what Jimin will say but he looks like he’s actually thinking about it. “I promise,” you say, just to convince him. 

Jimin crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes going back to normal. “Okay, fine.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “Really?”

He nods, almost excitedly. “Sure. Anything for you, my love.” He leans down once again, caressing your forehead. “I’ll let you have all that. And after that, I’ll take what’s mine.”

“Thank you,” you whisper out, feeling elated. “Thank you, Minnie. I promise I’m yours.”

Jimin smiles. “That you are.”

You’re back in the real world, already in your own bed. Jimin is nowhere to be seen and he’s still not around the next day. A week passed by and you haven’t seen any sights of him anywhere, like he’s just gone. Like he was never there. It’s strange to suddenly be alone, truly alone for the first time in years but it’s also liberating. You’re free.

A month later, you’re starting to believe that it had all been your imagination after all, that maybe you believed in him so much so that you made him real. You spend more time with the Kim brothers, even get to travel to Europe to visit the Royal College of Arts with Taehyung to see if you’d like the place. You do, so you take up the scholarship and move abroad with him, although he goes to a different school. 

You made a lot of friends, went to a lot of parties and art shows. You painted a lot, too, and none of them of the man that haunted your youth. Even his face is a blur, memories that seem to be fading faster than normal and by your sophomore year, you’ve forgotten all about him. 

You travelled a lot, mostly around Europe, with different friend groups as well as the Kim brothers whenever your holidays aligned. You met a lot of people, went out on a million dates, experimented with different genders and even had a short fling with an up-and-coming actor, but the one thing you could never do was fall completely in love.

You’d meet someone you think will be the one but nothing ever survived past the third month. This time, it’s not them; it’s you. You just can’t seem to give them your all, pulling away the moment they fall. You don’t know why either and you have no intention of hurting people. So you stop, telling people you no longer have any interest, that you’re asexual, that you’re anything but normal so that people will leave you alone instead of trying to set you up or ask you out.

You miss the connection, you miss having someone to come home to, someone to be there when you wake up from another nightmare. But if you can’t give it your all, it’s only fair you don’t give anything at all. Thus, your purity remains.

 TWENTY-SEVEN

You finish applying the fresh coat of lipstick in the mirror, standing back and admiring the view, making sure that not a hair is out of place and your makeup is perfect. Satisfied, you give yourself a nod.

“Let’s do this,” you say to yourself, snapping your purse shut and fixing your skirt. You exit the ladies’ room and make your way to the meeting room. A new partner is coming on board and you, being one of the leading managers for the big project next month, will have to give a presentation to the man, a briefing to bring him up to speed. You take a deep breath and enter.

Your team and your boss, Martin, are all sitting around the big oval table. They look up and visibly relax when they see it’s you. You look around the room. “He’s not here yet?”

“He’s coming up now,” Martin answers, pulling out the chair next to him for you. He leans in to whisper, “Everything ready?”

You nod and smile. “Yes. Everything’s taken care of, don’t worry.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “We need to make sure he’s happy with this. He’s bringing in a lot of money.”

You bend down to retrieve the folio that you’ll be using when the door opens and everybody stands up. You’re still trying to pull out the thick papers from your bag as you hear a new voice greet the room. You freeze, confident you’ve heard it before. You pull out your materials and look up, seeing the new partner for the first time. 

He’s handsome, dark hair with a middle parting to his fringe giving him a boyish look. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his grey slacks as he makes his way around the table towards your boss. He extends one hand and then turns to you, the smile never leaving his lips. You take his hand and jump a little at how cold his skin is. “Jimin Park,” he says, his voice velvety pleasant, “Pleasure to meet you, y/n.”

The way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine for what reason you’re not sure. Have you met him somewhere before? Everybody takes a seat and the meeting begins. You speak for most of the time and Martin beams at you proudly at how well your presentation is. All the while, Jimin only watches intently, listening and nodding but not saying anything more than a few clarification questions here and there. He never stops smiling. 

When you reach the end of the presentation, the room gives a round of applause, and so does he, eyes never leaving you, that same smile constantly on his lips. You should be happy, you should feel accomplished that he seems happy, too, but a nagging feeling tells you that something isn’t right. As everyone gets ready to go for a team lunch, Jimin included, you finally realise what it was that bothers you so much. 

He’s smiling but it never reaches his eyes; there’s no warmth in them. 

***

“So, how long have you been working here?”

Jimin sits across from you, casually leaning back against his chair like he’s very comfortable, monolid eyes sharp on you. 

You clear your throat, shifting in your seat like you’re uncomfortable under his gaze. “A little over five years now,” you say with a polite smile. “Got in right after graduation and never left. They’ve taken great care of me.” You turn to Martin who  puffs out his chest proudly. 

“One of my best, that one,” your boss chimes in, pointing at you while your coworkers chuckle lightly. 

“I bet,” Jimin mutters, eyes still on you, but you think you’re the only one who caught it. “Well,” he says, louder now, turning to your boss, “you have me on board. Just let me know what support you need and,” he turns back to you, “I’ll do my best to give it my all.”

The table cheered and everyone fell into light conversation all around. All except you and Jimin, staring at each other, him looking like he knows things you don’t, a smug little smile on his lips, you, a little put off by how much attention he’s giving you. You think about telling your boss of how uncomfortable Jimin makes you feel but you’re a little hesitant that it might backfire since Martin is awfully fond of him. You wrench your gaze away from Jimin, finally, focusing on your food, doing your best to ignore the fact that you can feel he’s still watching. 

Weeks go by and you’re thrown into one of the most hectic phases of the project, launching in a couple of months. This is when your phones won’t stop ringing, business people coming and going from your office in constant streams and a lot of fuck ups with orders. You’re running around everyday, barely even sitting down, never mind to eat and it’s starting to show by the slight gaunt look on your face and how your skirt is barely hanging on your hips. But you love what you do so you power through. 

You’re on your hands and knees in your office, going through the white blueprint of the event hall spread over the floor in front of your desk, checking every minute details to correct before you send off copies to the vendors when a voice from behind you makes you visibly jump. “Nice view.”

You turn around to see Jimin leaning against the doorframe of your office,a coffee cup in each of his hands and a white paper bag tucked under his arm. You scowl at him, wondering what he meant because your ass would have been pointing in his direction when he said those words. You sit up on your knees. “That’s sexual harassment,” you say, your voice curt.

Jimin’s lips twitch but his eyes widen in surprise, whether genuine or not, you can’t tell. “I was talking about the venue. I’ve been there and those wide windows at the back will give a really great view of the city. The clients will love it.”

The scowl remains on your face but you move sideways so you can bend over the blueprint again, but this time, not ass presenting him. You hope he goes away, taking the hint that you’re busy. 

“Here. I brought you coffee and some sandwiches,” Jimin says, entering your office without asking for permission and placing the paper bag on your desk. The coffee cup, he holds it out for you. 

You glance at the cup briefly before nodding to your desk. “Thanks. Just leave it there. I need to finish this.”

“No.”

You pause, looking up at him in surprise and confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I said, no,” Jimin repeats; the same easygoing smile on his face, the same cold look in his eyes. “You need to take a break or you’re going to collapse before this project even finishes.”

You stare at him, contemplating on not satisfying him because who the hell is he to tell you what to do? But a steaming cup of coffee sounds so good while it’s still hot, rather than later when it’s lukewarm. You sigh and take the cup from him, standing up as you do. “Thanks,” you say again, much softer this time and almost shyly, mostly for being told off. You take a sip and immediately feel the tension melt away. You sigh heavily, tilting your neck this and that way, cracking them to relieve the stiffness.

“Do you always throw yourself into work like this?” Jimin leans against your desk, the rim of the cup at his lips but eyes looking down at the spread out blueprints and other papers all over the floor. And yet, it feels like he’s watching you anyway, from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s a busy time.”

“Really?” he asks, looking sideways at you. “You sure you’re not running away from something? Distracting yourself with work?”

You turn to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

He meets your gaze. “Oh, just wondering.”

You stare at him, incredulous, but decide not to answer him. “You should go.”

“Don’t you paint anymore?”

You freeze, looking at him like he’d just grown another head. Your heart rate spikes a little as you comb back through your memories, trying to think if you told him anything about your past hobbies. No, you don’t think so. No one in this office knows that you come from an art background, only assuming that you had graduated from the business school of RCA. You swallow thickly, subconsciously backing away from him. “How do you know I even paint?”

Jimin looks at you calmly, letting five seconds pass by before moving away from the desk to point at a picture frame set on it. It’s a picture of you and Taehyung on your graduation day, the Royal College of Arts main building in the back. “Oh, I just assumed that from that picture.”

“Most people assumed I came from the business school,” you say, your voice a tad bit shaky.

Again, Jimin looks slightly alarmed. “Oh, I didn’t even know they had a business school.”

Bullshit, you wanted to say but your mind is reeling.

“Well, from your reaction, I’m guessing I was right,” Jimin continues, languidly relaxing back against your desk. “So, my question still stands. You don’t paint anymore?”

You don’t like his tone of voice; condescending and smug, like he knows more than he lets on. You find yourself answering, “No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t.” Then, on second thought, you add, “I can’t.”

Jimin tilts his head. “Why?”

Your forehead creases over as your eyebrows stitch together, struggling to keep your emotions in check because you hate it when someone questions your past. It’s always been one of the problems with prospective partners; they always want to know everything. And then get hurt when they do. But to Jimin, you square your shoulders and the look on your face hardens. “None of your business,” you snap, a little too harshly before regretting it. He is your boss after all. Sort of. 

“Is that how you talk to me?” His voice is low and cold, devoid of any of the friendliness he had earlier. 

You gulp. “Sorry, sir. I’m just- I’m a little stressed out right now,” you confess, not even sure why you are. 

“Go home,” he says, his voice back to normal. “Take a rest.”

“But I have to get this-”

“I’ll handle it,” he promises, pushing off the desk and coming over to you. In a few steps, he’s standing in front of you, toe to toe, too close for personal space, looking down his nose at you. He’s even more handsome up close, breathing down on you like you’re nothing but a child that needs to be put in place. “Go.”

You give him one last look before gathering your things, including the sandwiches he brought, and leaving out the door. You glance back only once at the elevator, looking at him looking at you, sipping on his coffee casually, one hand in his pocket. 

- - - 

You remember going to bed. You remember falling asleep. But you don’t remember waking up and being…here.

Where am I? What is this place? Everything feels so real, so vivid that you’re very sure you’re awake instead of dreaming. But there’s nothing here, just pitch black. You can’t see anything except for yourself, like a game character in a glitch where the world didn’t render correctly. You walk around but no matter how long and how far, there’s still nothing, making you feel like you probably didn’t move at all. 

If this is a dream, how do you wake up? Because this darkness and nothingness is unsettling, even more so when you can feel the cool linoleum feel under your bare feet but can’t see it. You stop moving, feeling defeated, hoping you’d wake up soon. 

“Hello, my sweetness.”

You jolt, turning around towards the cool voice and seeing the silhouette of a man a little further away. You squint, trying to see better who it is, stepping closer. “Who are you?”

“You know exactly who I am,” comes the voice and then, like a lighting on stage, his whole feature grows more visible. Jimin Park, your second boss. 

“What the hell?” you exclaim. “What are you doing in my dreams?”

Jimin’s mouth perks up. “You think this is a dream?”

You look around. “It’s the only explanation.”

You blink and suddenly Jimin is right in front of you, looming so close you have to look up to look at his face. You teeter and step back a pace. Like usual, he has that same smile on his face but his eyes, his eyes are different. They are jet black. “Still think this is a dream?”

You nod but hesitantly. You notice then that he’s bare from the waist up, toned muscles on full display and you think, So this is what he looks like under the suit. You can’t help but stare, unable to deny to yourself the arousing interest in your chest. A wet dream, you think, that’s why he’s here. 

Jimin laughs lightly, like he can read your mind. He leans closer and you half close your eyes, expecting his lips on yours. When it doesn’t happen, you blink your eyes open again to see a smirking Jimin. “Were you expecting something?”

You pull away, huffing. “No.”

A finger catches your chin, holding it in place as he makes you look at him. “You’re lying to me,” he says, his voice threatening and your heart races. There’s something familiar about his words, something familiar in the way you feel in his presence. The more you think about it, the more you realise that there’s a subtle fear of him. You wonder why because these past months, Jimin had been nothing but nice and a fair new boss to everyone.

Nice. But not warm. There’s always a cold edge to his demeanour, like everything is an act. Like he’s only pretending. 

The look in those jet black eyes is heavy and almost searing at the same time. You want to say no again, but something in the back of your mind warns you that he won’t take another lie and you wouldn’t like the consequences. “Yes,” you breathe out in a whisper.

“Yes what, my sweetness?”

Your mouth is dry but you force yourself to speak. “Yes, I was expecting something.”

“Good girl,” he coos and you feel his cold hand settle on your side, pulling you closer. “See, wasn’t so hard to admit it, was it?”

You don’t answer, feeling his fingers trace up and down your side, sneaking under your pyjama shirt and grazing your skin, making you shiver from the coldness and the anticipation. It’s a dream anyway, right? You can do anything in a dream. You tilt your chin up, looking at him through puppy-eyes and pouty lips. “Well?”

Jimin smirks again, only one side of his lips turning up. “As you wish.” He leans down and connects your lips to his and the searing pain shoots through your lips and down to your toes, making you moan into his mouth. Your eyes shoot open and you’re suddenly back in your bed, staring at your ceiling, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. 

You sit up, looking around the room but everything looks in place. The clock on your bedside table shows it’s three in the morning and you have to be awake in another three hours. You lay back onto your pillow but you’re too worked up to go back to sleep. Your lips are still tingling and you touch it gingerly with the tips of your fingers. You recall the dream, seeing your half-naked boss standing in front of you and you shake your head.

Ugh, you think, I have to get that image out of my head. 

The next day at work, you’re barely able to look Jimin in the eyes. You can’t help the image that keeps popping at the front of your mind every time you see him so you avoid him at all cost, leaving a room when he comes in, looking away when he’s talking to you. This continues on until the next week to the point that everyone else is starting to notice. Martin finally pulls you aside into his office one day.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks, steepling his fingers together on his desk. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you reply, feigning ignorance. “Is something wrong?”

He sighs. “You’ve been avoiding Jimin and even I can see it. Did something happen between the two of you?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. In truth, you’re replaying all of the dreams you’ve been having the past week. Every night, without fail, your second boss, Jimin, has been visiting you in your dreams, doing things you only wish he would do in real life, things you don’t even dare to admit to wanting. Every spot he lays his lips on burns like he’s made of fire and yet you crave it every time you wake up. “No, nothing happened,” you reiterate. 

“Are you sure?” he prods. “I thought you two were getting on well. He speaks highly of you, too.”

“He does?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

“Yeah. It’s starting to make me a little jealous,” Martin says with a chuckle. “I brought him in but it feels like he’s stealing away my best worker.”

You shift in your seat, ignoring the unsettling feeling in your chest. You laugh lightly along with him. “Don’t worry about it. He’s not stealing me away from you. I’m all yours, boss.” 

“Really?” 

His tone of voice shifts and dread fills your lungs. No, please no. He’s been so good to you and you have loved this job. Please don’t. Martin stands up and walks over the desk to stand in front of you, his crotch rightly aligned in front of your face as you sit there. You push back the chair a little bit. 

“You’re an amazing employee, y/n,” he says, his voice low and soft. “And I would like to make sure that you’re loyal to me.”

“Of course I am,” you say with a smile. “I’ve been here for a long time, haven’t I? I love my job and I would like to stay here as long as I can. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh, but I do.” He leans his hands on both the arms of your chair. “And with a new, young partner in the picture, I’m worried that he’s going to get all of your attention.”

Your throat is tight and swallowing is painful. “He’s-he won’t. I mean, you’re both my bosses so I don’t really have the power to say no if he has other projects for me when this one finishes.”

“Well then, prove it,” he purrs, his face up close to yours. “Show me how loyal you’ll be to me.”

You lick your lips. “But- but I have. All these years I’ve-”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he says, his eyes darkening. 

“Then what do you mean?” 

Martin smiles and steps back. His hands go to the fly of his pants and you think you’re going to throw up. Your skin feels clammy and cold and there’s a ringing in your ears. The office door bangs open, slamming against the wall and both of you look around to see in shock. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” says Jimin in a serious tone. If he knew what was happening, he didn’t show it. “But we have a problem with one of the vendors. I need y/n to help me smoothen things out.”

You spring up to your feet and excuse yourself, hurrying out of the door with Jimin behind you. You make a beeline for the ladies’ and shut yourself in a cubicle, breathing heavily, leaning against the door as if Martin might just burst right in. You lean your head against your arm, pressing against your eyes to kind of shake yourself out of the panic that’s building. 

“My sweetness.”

You look up, blinking at the sudden change of environment. The cubicle you locked yourself in has disappeared, replaced with nothing. Nothing but darkness. The voice that calls for you isn’t the usual flirt; it’s serious, solemn, commanding. You turn around to find Jimin standing there, this time, for the first time, fully clothed in all black. His eyes, though, are fiery red. 

You don’t know why you did what you did next but it felt like the right thing at that moment. You sob, running into his arms as he catches you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. He lets you cry into his shirt, caressing your hair and holding you quietly as your body shakes with every weep. It takes a while until you’re finally calm enough to step back, wiping at your face with the back of your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “I just- I didn’t know what came over me.”

Jimin watches you, quiet, not saying a word until you finally look at him. “It’s not the first time you’ve run to me when someone’s hurt you, my love.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”

The fire in his eyes dim a little as he tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re always so stubborn. You never listen. So even if I tell you, you won’t believe me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin sighs but the kind of sighs that tired people let out when dealing with annoying situations. “Still so stubborn. Never mind. What shall we do about him?”

Your eyes widen. Does he know after all? Or is this just your subconscious making him know what had transpired in Martin’s office? The latter, of course. It’s the only explanation. You’re dreaming again. Or hallucinating. The thought of what Martin had done resurfaces and suddenly you’re angry; angry at him but also at yourself for being such a fool for not seeing it for what it is even when he has been hinting at it for all these years. But why now? Why only now showing his true colours? 

You bark out a bitter laugh. “There’s nothing I can do. He’s the boss. He’ll get away with it or I’ll be asked to move away.” Then you start to nod your head. “Yeah, maybe it’s time for something new.”

“Go back to painting?”

You glare at him. “Why are you so obsessed with that?”

Jimin chuckles and changes the subject. “Well, if you want I can make him go away.”

You wipe the remaining tears from your cheeks but the anger is still there. “Yeah, sure. Do that.” You press your palms to your eyes, an act to rub out all the crying you did earlier but when you open your eyes again, you’re back in the cubicle. 

You step outside and wash your face, steeling yourself to leave the ladies’ room to face whatever or whoever is outside. You take a deep breath and open the door and Jimin is waiting on the other side, leaning sideways against a wall. 

“You okay?” he asks, approaching you. “Did something happen with Martin?”

You stare at him blankly, thinking back to that conversation, although imaginary, you just had with him in that other place. Thinking of what Martin did to you, or almost did to you, and the fact that you had been dreaming of your other boss nearly every day this week feels hypocritical. “Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Nothing happened. You said something happened with a client?”

“Vendors,” he corrected, eyes as cool and calculating as they always are, looking at you as if he’s trying to figure out why you’re lying, not that he knows that. Does he? “It’s fine. I took care of it while you were in there.”

You raise your watch to your face. “That soon? Are you sure? I can call them up again just to ensure everything is good.”

Jimin gives you a small shake of his head, a small hint of a smile on his lips. “Nope. It’s fine. All taken care of.” Something in the way he says the last part gives you a strange vibe, like he wasn’t talking about the vendor problem entirely. 

It doesn’t take long until news reaches you, literally on the 8PM broadcast on TV while you are eating dinner of microwaved pasta. The picture splashed on the screen is one you recognise well, having seen the man for the past five years or so everyday at work. The news talks about how, with the help of an anonymous tip, Martin J. Russell of Rocket Media Ltd has been arrested for multiple sexual offences, spanning years of sexual assaults of past coworkers with pictures and videos found on both his work and personal devices. 

Your fork drops into the container as you stare, mouth agape, at the TV. What in the-

As much as a part of you is singing with relief, another part of you can’t completely dismiss the persistent notion that whatever happened to Martin wasn’t coincidence, that it didn’t just happened right after he tried it with you and you had-

You stop thinking, standing up abruptly that your chair scuttles backward noisily. Jimin. Something about Jimin is squirming at the back of your mind but you can’t quite put a finger on it. Not a minute later, you receive an email from HR, blasted to all employees, requesting that if you need to speak to someone, you may contact HR representatives or a mental health hotline, as well as the office will be closed for a week due to the current investigation ongoing. All employees will have the option whether to take days off during the week or work remotely and either choice will have you be paid like normal. 

There is more to the email, including a subtle request for employees to keep their mouths shut except to authorities or HR and it makes you think about earlier today. Bile rises to your throat at the idea of having to admit what had happened today when you just want to forget about it all. Your phone rings.

It’s Jimin, now the one and only boss.

You take a deep breath and answer it. 

“If you’ve heard the news then you know why I’m calling,” says Jimin over the phone, his voice sullen. “I’m asking you again, did something happen between you and him today in his office?” 

You’re quiet, your voice stuck in your throat. 

“Y/n,” he calls, a warning tone. “I don’t want to have to ask twice.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you finally answer, your voice sounding breathy. “He’s caught. It’s done.”

There’s a brief pause before he finally speaks. “So something did happen.” When you don’t respond, he takes that as an affirmative. He lets go of a deep breath. “Take the week off.”

“But the project, we’re already behind on-”

“Fuck, y/n,” he snaps. “We have worse issues on our hands right now. Take the week off. I’ll deal with things here and the clients.” Then he sighs. “Have you spoken to the authorities yet? About what happened today? They would want to hear about it.”

“No. I don’t intend to,” you reply shortly. 

“Why? You’re protecting him?”

“I’m not!” Your blood boils at the accusation, your free hand in a tight fist on your side. “I just want to forget all about it. Nothing actually happened. He…he didn’t manage to do anything before you came in.”

“I see,” he replies softly. “Are you okay?”

You want to tell him yes, of course you are, nothing happened, right? You should be okay, you should be fine because you were luckier than his other victims, people you worked with and who you were completely oblivious to the suffering they were going through right under your nose. You were so ignorant of what was happening around you that you had respected the man, and had even admired him as an amazing boss. How many times have you gushed about the man? How many of those times had it been to a victim?

Fuck. 

Before you even realise it, the tears are already spilling, big, fat pearls crawling down your cheeks. You don’t manage to say anything when Jimin says, “I’m coming over,” and the line cuts. You’re not sure how long you remain on the floor crying, hugging your legs close to you when there’s a loud knock on your door. You can’t seem to get up, the few steps to the entrance area seem too much for you. 

You hear some shuffling around outside, hear the person lift up a flower pot and retrieve the spare key you hid there. You hear the sound of the key in the lock and doorknob turning. You see Jimin standing in the doorway, his eyes easily zoning in on you huddled on the kitchen floor. You watch as he strides over and picks you up so effortlessly and carries you to the sofa. He places you down gently and goes back to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he’s back with a cup of tea for you.

He makes you drink it, sitting next to you without saying anything much, letting you cry it out. He remains quiet even when you’re hiccuping through leftover sobs, sitting there leaning on his knees, his fingers locked together, staring down at the floor. He only finally looks up when you make no more sound except for the occasional sniffles. “Better?”

You nod, taking a tissue to blow your nose. 

“Hungry?”

You shake your head but your stomach betrays you, sounding out like a dying whale at sea. He smiles softly, pulling out his phone. “Does Thai sound good to you?”

This time, you nod happily, eyelashes still glistening with tears.

You both only start to talk after dinner is finished and pushed aside, when Jimin, his coat jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, had offered to do the dishes. You stand next to him to do the drying, making small talk, exchanging little information about each other’s lives. 

“You’re from Busan?” your eyebrows go up in surprise. “I’m from there, too.”

“I know,” he replies. “I read all the staff’s profiles.”

“I see.”

“Have you been back?”

You shake your head. “Not really. There’s nothing left for me there. My mum has remarried and the only family I have left are actually here.”

“Oh?”

You smile. “Yeah. Well, we’re not related by blood but I practically grew up with them.”

You don’t see it but Jimin’s eyes flash dangerously. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you say, “the guy you saw in the picture? That’s Taehyung. Him and his brothers are like brothers to me. Growing up with a single parent is hard and I was always stuck with them when she had to go to work. And she worked a lot.”

“So just them then? No one else?”

You tilt your head, thinking. “No, I don’t think so. Just them.” When Jimin doesn’t respond, you ask, “What about you? Any families around here?”

“Just one,” he says, eyes on his hands washing the forks and spoons. “We grew up together. I was always the one she runs to when she has problems and I make them go away.”

“Oh. That’s interesting.” You take the fork from him, drying it in between your fingers. “What’s she like?”

“Clingy and a crybaby.” He chuckles softly. “But I love that about her. I love being needed and I know she needs me.”

“She lives with you?”

“Not yet.” Jimin finishes the washing and dries his hands. “If you’re feeling better, I should get going. But…”

“But?” you look up at him.

“I know it’s weird timing but,” he pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Would you, um, want to grab lunch tomorrow? Or not, if you don’t want to.”

You’re not sure about going on a date with him for two reasons: one, he’s your boss and two, well, with the whole shitshow happening at the office, it’s hardly a good time for a date. 

“Um, sure. I guess,” you answer, feeling a little shy. “If it’s just lunch.”

Jimin’s lips twitch upward. “Sure. I’ll pick you up around noon?”

- - -

That lunch turned out to be more than just lunch.

Jimin is funny and makes you laugh with his deadpan jokes and ridiculous punchlines. Underneath that cold and aloof demeanour, he’s actually sweet and caring. He plans things, takes you out on surprise dates, cooks meals for you and even gives you little gifts on random days, things that made him think of you. He makes playlists for you and even one of those classic mixtapes on CDs when he finds out your car has a CD player. He gathers small bunches of daisies when he finds out you love them more than roses. He surprises you with little things like your favourite tea or your favourite snack and takes candid photos of you to share with you later at the end of the day.

On days when you are watching movies together at your place, he would rub your feet and make cups of tea for you. He would listen to you vent or tell stories about your day. He’s your biggest cheerleader with work, walking that thin line between being a fair boss and a good friend and flourishing at it. When the relationship passed three months, you both decided to report it to HR. You were moved to a different department but you both go out for lunch together almost everyday.

You are completely and madly in love, for the first time ever at twenty-seven. He’s everything you ever wanted, everything you ever dreamed of even as a young girl. He sweeps you off your feet and makes you feel the most comfortable. He respects your wish of waiting a little bit more the night he sleeps over that first time, ending up just cuddling the whole night. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t make you feel guilty about it. You do a lot of the other things, kissing and going even as far as third base and not once did he ever try to push your limit.

 By the time you hit six months, he surprises you with a promise ring and you think it’s time to introduce him to Taehyung and the others. 

“What’s his name again?” Taehyung asks over the phone as you get ready for the meeting tonight. Both Namjoon and Jin will also be there, excited to meet your first serious boyfriend.

“Jimin,” you quip, the phone pinned in between your shoulder and ear, hopping on one foot to pull up the stocking over your knees. 

“What?” Taehyung’s voice comes out a little too loud, a little too panicky. 

“I said, his name is Jimin,” you repeat. “Look, I got to finish getting ready. You can ask all the questions later at the restaurant, Tae. I’ll see you guys there.”

“You ready, babe?” Jimin’s head pops in.

“Yes,” you answer, getting your handbag and slinging it over your shoulder. “I’m a little nervous. It’s the first time I’m bringing a boyfriend to meet them.”

Jimin laughs, pulling you by the waist. “Wait, you’ve never introduced anyone before me?”

You shake your head, pouting. “No. Nothing ever lasted long enough for me to do that.”

“I see.” Jimin twirls you around. “I’m honoured.” He gives you a little bow and you giggle. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be on my best behaviour tonight. I promise.”

***

“This is Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jin.”

“Jimin, my brothers.”

The four of them exchange handshakes all around before finally sitting down, Jimin pulling out your chair, of course. The dinner starts with small talk, mainly the brothers asking you and Jimin the typical questions: how did you two meet? How did you guys get together? How did the company react to the news of the relationship? 

When the main course arrives, Namjoon switches gears by focusing the questions on only Jimin, asking his background, interests and his work. Jin adds in here and there but Taehyung remains quiet the whole time. He would stare intently at Jimin, frown and then look away. He would give you the same look, too, but he’s sitting too far away to actually ask you anything quietly. 

During dessert, Jin stares at Jimin for long enough that the other man notices. “Do I have something on my face?”

Jin shakes his head. “No. You just look familiar.”

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Jimin chuckles. 

“Yeah, but I can’t shake this feeling off like I’ve seen you somewhere.” Jin tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. “Hmm. I wonder where.”

“Me, too, hyung,” pipes in Taehyung, surprising you slightly since he’s been quiet this whole time. “The name, too. I’ve heard it somewhere.”

Jimin smiles politely. “My name is very common, especially for girls, actually.” He gives a lighthearted laugh, squeezing your hand under the table, a signal for you to say something. 

“So, how long will you be in town, Jin?” you ask, diverting the group’s attention and it was enough to move away from the topic of Jimin. The rest of the night goes well and the both of you arrive at your place giddy with happiness.

Jimin heaves a relief sigh. “Well, I guess that went well.”

You beam up at him, both hands in his as you stop in front of the front door. “I think it did.”

He nods, gazing lovingly into your eyes. He pecks a kiss on the tip of your nose and you scrunch it up, giggling at him. He pecks another kiss to your forehead and you lean into him. Your heart is beating a little bit faster than usual, both nervous and excited for what’s to come next, what you will ask him for. You know he won’t, but you will. You think it’s time.

“Jimin,” you call him softly and he catches your lips in between his. You moan into him, feeling yourself melting into his front, his arms strong around your waist. He feels safe, like home. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he murmurs against your lips. “What was it you wanted to say, hm?”

“Well,” you say, suddenly shy, suddenly looking down at both of yours and his feet but you steel yourself and put on a brave front. He’s been so patient for you, you can do this for him. “Do you want to go inside for a cup of tea?”

Jimin smiles, his eyes giving you a knowing look. “I would love that.”

Inside, he insists on making the tea, telling you that he knows how to make it just the way you like it. You both sip the tea in silence at the kitchen island, exchanging glances over the rim of your cups like some kind of young teenagers flirting across the hall when you’re only sitting opposite each other. His eyes turn into little half-moons and you know he’s smiling behind the cup, the butterflies in your stomach kicking up a storm. Oh, you are very much in love and for a person at your age to feel like this for the first time, you think it was worth the wait. 

You both finish the tea and you take the cups and saucers to the sink. You can feel yourself vibrating with nerves, your hands shaking a little making the cups rattle against the saucers. You place them in the sink and wonder about how to go about it. Do you outrightly ask him? Do you bring him up to the bedroom without saying anything? Do you invite him as a heads up? Ugh, how come there’s no manual for these things.

Your hand reaches for the faucet but Jimin’s hand catches your arm and you feel him press up behind you, warm and strong. With his other hand, he gently pulls back your hair from your shoulder and pins a kiss at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Leave it, my sweetness,” he says into your ear. “We’ll think about the dishes later, why don’t we?”

You hum in response, closing your eyes and leaning your head back onto him, letting him kiss up your neck. You turn yourself around, placing your hands on his chest, feeling the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against your fingers. You look up at him through your lashes, heart in your throat, shaking so bad from…you’re not sure which, excitement or anxiety. He seems to know what you wanted to say by the small smile on his lips but he’s letting you take the lead.

“Do you…” you trail off, not even sure what to ask. You try again, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want to head upstairs?”

Jimin’s smiles widen. “Only if you take me there.”

A strong sudden urge to kiss him overwhelms you and you crash your lips onto his, roughly, desperately, wanting nothing more than to taste him more than you ever had. Your hands go everywhere; around his waist, around his neck, his chest, his arms while he holds you steady, moving backwards and somewhat blindly out of the kitchen with the two of you connected at the lips. When you pull apart to breathe, you’re already in the middle of your bedroom. Wow, that was fast. When did we climb up the stairs?

The bed is right behind you. Jimin leans his forehead against yours. “Are you sure about this?”

Your heart flutters, the anxiety now pushed aside by the anticipation building up from a place you’ve never truly explored. You nod your head once, breathing hard, your fingers fidgeting with a button on his shirt. Gently, ever so gently, Jimin lowers you to the bed, you in between his legs. You continue to make out, suddenly so very hungry for him, catching his tongue with yours everytime it slips in. 

You undress him, plucking at one button at a time, your fingers clumsy. He does the same for your dress, pulling it off little by little until you’re in nothing but your underwear and him with his chest bare. 

Jimin takes you in, nose flaring at the sight of you. You feel yourself shrink, making yourself smaller because no other man has ever seen you like this before. It’s daunting. Exciting, but scary. 

Jimin buries his face in your neck, his hands gently caressing your bra strap and then your side. “White lace,” he breathes. “Did you put these on especially for me?”

You don’t answer, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. And other places. Jimin pulls back, sitting on his knees, looking down at you, raking his eyes from your head down to your toes. There’s a glint in his eyes that you can’t quite read but it makes you shiver. “You know,” Jimin says, eyes locked on yours, “some people say you wear white for your first time.” He chuckles, coming back down for your lips.

“I know,” you mumble. Jimin pauses to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Because it is. My first time,” you say bashfully. “I…I hope that’s okay. For you.”

Jimin’s lips twitch upwards and you see a sort of change in his eyes. But it’s dark so you’re not sure. “Of course, my sweetness. Don’t you worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

The words sounded odd to your ears, a little too commanding, a little too smug. But the moment Jimin’s lips are back on yours, his hands roaming your body, touching in places no one has ever touched before, your head goes completely blank except for thoughts of him, of Jimin, your lover, the one you’re finally sure of surrendering yourself fully; mind, body and soul. 

You’re lost in the throes of heated passion, unaware that downstairs, inside your handbag where you left on the kitchen island, your phone is ringing for the third time in a row. Taehyung’s face is flashing across the screen because back at his place not thirty minutes away, while he lays across the sofa, wracking his brains about where Jimin seems awfully familiar, he had to scroll through his phone gallery. It had taken some time, going back years of pictures until he finally found it: the last photo of you standing in your childhood bedroom, leaving for the last time.

There in the background, placed on its side, is the forty by thirty painting of your imaginary friend, a blue ribbon tacked on one corner.

- - -

The room is filled with your loud moans, unable and probably don’t even care to keep your voice down because, fuck, his tongue feels so goddamn good. 

You fist the sheets on either side of you, legs spread open by Jimin’s hands on your thighs, keeping them from closing around his head. He has two fingers in your cunt, pumping hard, in time with the flick of his tongue against your very swollen clit. You can hear how wet you are by the sloshing sound his fingers make and that alone is arousing to you. You alternate between moaning with your mouth clamped shut but when it gets too much, your mouth will fall open and the room echoes your voice back at you. 

Jimin’s fingers feel so good, enough to make you feel full. In the back of your mind, you’re a little worried about when he finally enters you. How much would that hurt? He clamps down your clit and all thoughts escape through your ears, desperate to clamp your thighs shut but unable to. 

With his fingers still jammed inside you, Jimin crawls up, trailing wet kisses up your torso and then letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “So sweet for me,” he coos, licking his lips. He curls his fingers upward, feeling your walls squeezing his digits. “And so tight.”

You mewl, squirming under him. You fumble for his fly, pulling the zipper down and hooking your fingers around the waistband of his pants, along with his boxers. He helps you pull them off of him, wiggling himself to let the materials fall loosely to his ankles. You sit up on your elbows and Jimin brings his hip to your face. Your eyes bulge at the sight of him; thick and long, precum leaking from the tip, sticking straight against his stomach. 

“Open your mouth, sweetness,” he says, guiding your head with the back of his hand, sliding himself onto your tongue, hissing at the contact. “There you go, just like that. That’s a good girl.”

You place your hands on his thighs for support, eager to please. You may be a virgin but oral sex is something you enjoy giving. You start slow, teasing him with your tongue against his tip and only focusing on the head, sucking on it like your favourite lollipop. Jimin watches you through hooded eyes, hands on your shoulders. He lets out a muffled grunt as you flick your tongue against his frenulum, feeling the way his cock jumps from the pleasure. 

You push yourself down his length, slowly, gauging how much you can take him without gagging. Adjusted, you start to bob your head. Jimin holds your head, both guiding and sometimes pushing your face as low as possible before you start to protest, gagging and slobbering all over his length. You can’t see it but he’s grinning ear to ear. 

When he’s had enough, he pulls you up to kiss you, noticing how red your cheeks are, how your eyes see only him, and how your body is reacting to him. He gently pushes you down to the mattress, one hand behind your head. He leans backward to look at you. “How are you feeling?” he whispers against your lips. 

“Good,” you whisper back, squirming under him, arms around his waist. “I want you, Jimin.”

He smirks but in your haze, you barely recognise it for what it is. “I know. I’ve been wanting you, too. For a long time.”

You nod, thinking that he had meant these past six months. You’re clawing at him, lightly scratching at his skin as he kisses your face, lowering himself down onto you. You’re so sensitive that at the touch of his pubic bone against yours, you gasp. 

“Shh,” he says gently, thumb rubbing your temple. “Look at you. You’re shivering, baby. It’s okay. Relax. I’ll take good care of you.”

Something about his smile sends a shiver down your spine and instead of feeling comforted, panic bells have started ringing in the distance. Your heart rate spikes and suddenly you’re having second thoughts. You quell them down, fighting against yourself to backtrack now. No, he’s been patient enough. He deserves it. He’s the love of my life, there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just nerves. Relax. Calm down. I want this. I want this. Right? You breathe slowly, nodding into his hand, desperate to find the solace you always feel when in Jimin’s presence. Where is it now?

“Jimin,” you squeak as he positions himself in between your legs, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, massaging lightly as he presses your legs apart. You raise your head to look at him and in the dim light, Jimin’s eyes are so dark they’re like abysses as he looks back at you, a soft smile on his lips. 

You feel him pressing against your hole and slowly pushes in. It stings and you throw your head back, eyes squeezed shut. Jimin stretches you out and it burns so much it feels like you are being torn open from the inside out and yet…yet it feels so excruciatingly delicious. All these years of holding back, of never finding the right person to give yourself fully to, and Jimin feels both like a reward and a punishment, like it’s both wrong and coming home at the same time your brain is going fuzzy. You feel him bottom out but the pain isn’t going away and at the same time a tingle is starting from somewhere deep within you. 

Jimin remains unmoving, letting you adjust. The burning dulls a little bit but a fire has been lit up in the pit of your stomach. You wrap your legs around Jimin’s waist, pulling him close. You blink your eyes open and gasp. You blink a few more times but the sight that greets you never changes. Everything is dark. There’s nothing. You see nothing.

You look down towards where Jimin is in a panic but finds him grinning at you in a way that doesn't feel friendly. He starts laughing. 

“Finally!” he exclaims, running a hand through his hair, pushing his hair back. “Years of waiting and it finally pays off. Patience is a virtue.” 

“Wh- what’s going on?” your voice is shaking. “I don’t understand. What are you saying? What’s happening?”

Jimin leans down, arms on both sides of your head. His eyes are like two coals staring straight into your wet ones. “Oh, my sweetness. I let you have a little bit of freedom and you forget about me. But don’t worry. We’ll have all night to catch up.” He kisses you and your lips burn, moaning into him but he doesn’t relent. You feel his tongue licking inside your mouth and your eyes shoot open in alarm at the realisation that it’s a forked tongue. Just like that, the box of suppressed memories springs open and it all comes flooding in.

Pulling back, the same smug grin still on his face, Jimin whispers close to your face, “Do you remember now?”

Your eyes are like two saucers, staring back at him in horror. “No,” you shake your head, the tears creeping slowly down into your hairline. “No.”

Jimin’s lips spread wider. “Oh, yes, my sweetness.” He pulls out of you and starts to gently rock back and forth, ignoring your silent cries. The faster he moves, the more your body reacts, so much so that you pause in between the tears, confused. Your heart rejects him yet your body yearns for him, needs him to keep moving or you might wither away and die if he doesn’t. Your fists tightens around his upper arms, both in anger at the long deception as well as the desperation to let him know that you want more; more of him and more of what he can give. 

It doesn’t take much for Jimin to get the message, the latter one, the grin only growing bigger, the satisfaction palpable even in his two obsidian eyes. He leans down to your face, fingers softly combing back your hair. “I know you’re angry at me, baby, but you can’t deny me either. You’ve promised me yourself.” He kisses your cheek and the spot feels like your skin might melt away. “I’ve only come to collect what’s mine. Heart, body and soul. Well, maybe not the heart. Not yet anyway. But all in due time, my sweetness. I’m a very patient man.”

“You’re not a man,” you gasp in between strokes, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from letting him know how good he’s making you feel. You can feel the girth of him, the length of him every time he buries deep, can feel the delicious stretch of your walls hugging him. Jimin only laughs, a deep rumbling that vibrates straight to your core and with that, you release your lip to let Jimin hear you. 

- - -

When Taehyung arrived at your place at three in the morning, out of breath from cycling like hell, he was already too late. 

The house was empty, void of anything that ever proved that you lived there; no clothes, no photos on the wall, no shoes and definitely no you. Only furniture left behind and food abandoned in the fridge. The police insisted that you must have run away with your lover and your workplace had no clue who Taehyung was talking about when he mentioned Park Jimin, looking at him like he had lost his mind.

“She quit,” the receptionist told him with an incredulous look, turning the PC monitor his way. “See? She sent this email talking about finding something new. It’s all a bit sudden and the boss is pissed. If you hear from her, tell her never to come around here unless she wants her head on a platter. Personally, for me though, I think she got balls of steel. You go, girl.” 

Namjoon told him to quit worrying, that you’re an adult that can make your own life choices and take care of yourself. Jin just laughed when Taehyung showed him the photo of the painting from long ago, shaking his head and telling him he needs to get his eyes checked. Neither of them had any recollection of that dinner with Jimin. Except for him. 

It took him six months to finally calm down enough for his brothers to stop worrying that he might need some serious intervention in the form of hospitalisation. He spent his days at work, pretending to be fine while at night he scoured the internet and the dark web for any signs of you, barely sleeping, one wall of the spare bedroom at his place covered with any clues and hints and circled maps of places he’s searched in. 

- - -

On the other side of the veil, you watch your childhood best friend struggle to find you to death, sitting next to Jimin on the throne, your hand in his as his underlings worship his feet. 

As the dark lord of the underworld, Jimin lavishes you with anything and everything your heart desires, loves you like no man ever could and satisfies you every night like gods themselves are pounding into you. You smile when he kisses you, look demurely as he holds you and pulls him closer each night under the cover. 

You see Jimin in all his underworld glory; a king with a black heart, tattered black wings that spans six feet on either side when he’s enraged, eyes like the abyss when he’s staring deep into your claimed soul. You’re his; mind, body and soul, as promised. 

And yet…

Each night, you realise you’re getting better and better at slipping away without him noticing, coming back into the human world, into Taehyung’s spare room with the maze of threads all over one wall. You’re getting good at moving small objects, like a pen or a pencil. And even that marker Taehyung uses to circle cut up articles and places on the map. 

One day, you’ll be able to send him an SOS, a message for him to help you cut yourself free. But in the meantime, you’ll sit quietly in Jimin’s arms, pretending like you hate where you are, pretending like you’re not in love. 

Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:

I wanna request jimin imagine. When he slap you during an argument plz. Super angsty!

Hi there! I’ve answered your request! You can find it here. Thanks for your patience, kutie anon! 💜

Through Hell (A Park Jimin One-Shot)

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.” ~ Winston Churchill

Disclaimer(s): The middle picture of Jimin used in my header is the property of BTS and BigHit, I just edited it a little and put it in the frame. The one on the far left was scanned and edited by @bangtan-sonyeon-scans. I’ve kept their logo/watermark intact and did not touch their edit in any way. The only thing I did was put it in a frame. All credit goes to them for the edit. Please check them out, they do amazing work 💜 I cannot find the owner of the picture on the right. I found the pic on Pinterest and it didn’t have any logos or watermarks on it. I assume the picture belongs to BTS and BigHit, but if someone knows who the original owner is, please let me know so I can properly credit them.

Age Recommendation: 18+ (See warnings, this def isn’t for young ‘uns)

Genre: Angst w/ a happy ending

Warnings: Swears (f*cking duh), straight up abuse including hitting and slapping (do NOT read if you are not comfortable), ANGST.

Word Count: 2.4k (not too bad, not too bad)

Master List

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Through Hell (Jimin One-Shot, Angst)

“Could you try to at least be a little personable?” your fiance growled, gripping your forearm tightly.

“I-I’m trying,” you muttered, looking down at the ground.

He pinched your jaw between his fingers, forcing your eyes to his. “Well fucking try harder.”

Dragging you out of the empty hallway, the both of you rejoined the table with smiles much too large to be real. You did your best to please your fiance, making an effort to talk more, laugh louder, and gesticulate frequently. You were the life of the party, the perfect trophy almost-wife, there to socialize and make witty conversation.

You realized you had done your job too well when one of your fiance’s business partners slid a hand over your thigh, chuckling at something you said. You instantly froze, flicking a fearful glance towards your fiance. Rage smoldered behind his dark eyes.

“Fuck,” you thought. You shoved the man’s hand away and abruptly excused yourself to the ladies’ room, practically sprinting away in an attempt to escape.

Too late. A hand closed around your wrist, jerking you to a stop the second you stepped outside.

“What the fuck was that?” your fiance snarled, yanking you close.

You let out a yelp. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“The hell you don’t!”

He released you only to draw a hand back and slap you square in the face, the force of his palm colliding with your cheek causing you to stumble. Your vision blurred as the sting worked its way through your nerve endings, causing your skin to redden.

Your fiance drew his hand back once more when you heard the shout of an unfamiliar voice. “Hey!”

You blinked away your tears just in time to see your fiance whirl around and get punched in the face. He fell to the ground with a groan, his eyes rolling back in his head.

The stranger who’d saved you clambered on top of your fiance, pinning him to the ground. Your fiance struggled, but stilled when he saw the stranger’s fist poised above him, ready to strike. “The fuck is wrong with you?!” the stranger growled. “Didn’t your mommy teach you not to hit?!”

“Get off me!” your fiance grunted.

The stranger reared back and punched him once more, effectively knocking him out. With a heaving chest, he slowly stood up and turned towards you, using his fingers to comb back his messy orange hair. You were still frozen from shock, your mouth parted open, your hands hanging limply at your sides. It wasn’t until the stranger reached a hand out to you when the feeling began returning to your limbs. You closed your mouth and slid your palm into his, surprised at how soft his skin was.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m Jimin.”

“Y-Y/n,” you stuttered, distracted by the way he moved your hands up and down.

“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning down and looking in your eyes.

“I think so.”

Your fiance groaned, causing both of you to look down at him. “He’s coming to,” Jimin said. “We should get out of here. Can I give you a ride?”

“Sure.”

He gave you a small smile, tugging gently on the hand that was still sheathed in his. “C’mon. My ride’s a couple blocks from here.”

You nearly pulled your hand out of his. You didn’t know this guy. Just because he saved you from a brutal beating from your fiance didn’t mean he was a good person. For all you knew, he could be even worse than your fiance.

Then again, what did you have to lose? Your fiance would probably call the cops and get Jimin put in jail, then take you home and beat you senseless. You looked into Jimin’s bright brown eyes, and you saw nothing but sincerity and warmth. That was enough for you. You let him lead you down the steps, around the corner, and away from who was supposedly going to be your terrible future.

You relished in the freedom of getting away, giggling a bit as you both walked down the street still hand-in-hand. Jimin looked at you, nothing but fondness in his eyes. You took a second to look him up and down, appreciating every inch of the handsome man beside you. His bright orange hair stood in stark contrast to his black leather jacket and uber-tight jeans. Silver glinted in both of his ears, but an earring dangled down from just his left ear, giving him an attractive rebel vibe that had your heart pounding.

Wait. You couldn’t think thoughts like this. You were engaged. To be married.

But was it a true promise of marriage when you didn’t love him? When you were forced into betrothal by your controlling father? When you saw no happy future, no light at the end of the tunnel, no escape, no happiness?

“Sorry to barge into your argument like that,” Jimin said, running a hand sheepishly through his hair. “I didn’t mean to interfere, and I know it’s none of my business, but—”

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted. “Believe me, you saved my ass back there. Temporarily, at least.”

He stared at you. “Don’t tell me you’re going back to that asshole.”

You glanced at the ground. “It’s not like I want to, but… I have no choice.”

Jimin stopped you right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, gently putting a finger under your chin and raising your eyes to his. Such a contrast to the way your fiance would grip your jaw and force you to look at him. “You always have a choice,” he murmured.

You gave him a tiny smile. “Tonight I do. But I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.”

“Look, I know I barely know you,” he said. “But come stay with me. My friends and I can protect you.”

You were taken aback. “You don’t even know me,” you retorted, slipping your hand out of his. “You don’t know who my father is. He’ll find some way to take you out and drag me back home.”

Jimin stepped close. “And you don’t know who I am.”

“I know enough.”

He smirked. “I don’t think you do.”

“I’m still not staying with you.”

“Fine. But the offer still stands.”

You opened your mouth to shoot a reply back, but closed it when a terrifying thought stopped you. They’d already be looking for you.

You grabbed Jimin’s hand once more. “Fine, I’ll stay with you… but just for tonight, alright?”

Maybe giving your fiance the night would give him a chance to calm down. Maybe your father would be so terrified of losing you, he wouldn’t force you to marry that dickbag. Maybe things would simply look brighter in the morning, and would give you the strength to face them both.

Jimin’s smirk widened and he started down the sidewalk once more. “Not far now.”

Jimin’s ‘ride’ turned out to be a motorcycle parked at the very end of the block. I looked down at my tight evening gown, the deep gold color glinting in the dim streetlight. Not exactly the outfit for a motorcycle ride.

“I have a spare helmet,” Jimin said, handing you a black helmet that matched the one he already had on.

“Gimme a minute.”

You reached down and grasped the fabric of your dress between your hands, tearing it away from your legs with a loud rip.

You didn’t miss the way Jimin gawked at your exposed legs. You reached behind you and took the pin holding your hair up out, shaking your curls loose. Jimin’s mouth parted open, causing a blush to swell beneath the skin of your cheeks. “I’ll take that helmet now,” you said playfully, taking it from his grasp and putting it on your head.

Jimin shook his head, closing his mouth. “R-Ready?”

“Yep,” you said as you snapped the clasps underneath your chin together.

You clambered on the back of the motorcycle, sliding your arms around Jimin’s firm torso, relishing in the way his breath hitched as you felt him up. The motorcycle started up with a stuttering roar, and you were off, the wind whipping through your clothes and over your skin, causing your eyes to water.

You didn’t dare close them, though, wanting to remember every second of what might be your last delicious moment of freedom. Jimin weaved between cars, going faster and faster. Your dress flew up, trailing behind the cycle in a wave of gold fabric, revealing more of your skin than you normally would have liked, but tonight? Tonight you didn’t give a damn.

Almost too soon, Jimin stopped in front of a grungy apartment building in a part of town your father or fiance likely wouldn’t dare step foot in. He propped his motorcycle up on its kickstand, and you climbed off of it, gratefully accepting the hand Jimin held out to you. You both took off your helmets, and you self-consciously tried to smooth down your hair at the same time Jimin ran a hand through his once more, combing the soft orange strands away from his face.

And, oh, what a gorgeous face it was. Besides his beautiful brown eyes, you took a moment to appreciate his smooth skin, his high cheekbones, and most of all, his full, pink lips that you longed to rub the pad of your thumb over.

Noticing your stare, Jimin tossed a smirk your way. “Enjoying the view?”

You looked away, a blush dusting your cheeks pink. “Is this where you live?”

“Yep. Come on, let’s go inside.”

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself wrapped in a blanket, sitting on Jimin’s bed in his tiny studio apartment. He handed you a mug of steaming tea, which you took a sip from despite its hot temperature.

“Thanks,” you said.

“Any time.”

You both were quiet for a moment, sipping from your tea and staring at the kitchenette directly across from you. “Can I ask you something?” Jimin said suddenly.

“Sure.”

“Why were you even with that guy?”

“Who? My fiance?”

Jimin scoffed. “You’re engaged to that asshole?”

I hung my head. “Unfortunately, yes,” you muttered.

“Why? Why not break it off? You clearly know he’s not good for you.”

“Because reasons,” I sighed.

Jimin put a hand over yours. “Tell me.”

You looked up at the ceiling, focusing hard on the bumpy texture to keep the tears at bay. “Because I have to.”

“But you know you don’t, right?”

“You don’t understand. My father is a billionaire who practically owns half this city. Ever since I was little, I’ve been promised to this guy… he’s heir to a company that directly competes with my father’s company. If we marry, our families and companies join, and my father has been promised an extensive partnership with my fiance’s father that will double his assets. He wants to build an empire.”

Jimin’s gaze grew darker with each word. “And you can’t say no? You can’t just walk away?”

You swallowed hard. “I’ve been groomed for the role of perfect wife since I was a child… I have no skills, I’ve never been allowed to do anything for myself. Where would I go?”

“Here,” Jimin said forcefully. “You can stay here. I can help you get a job, teach you how to live in the real world.”

You shook your head. “He would find me. My father would find me and drag me back home. I’d be lucky if he didn’t keep me prisoner until my wedding.”

Jimin stood up and began pacing, striding back and forth, back and forth, over the wooden floor over his apartment. “I know people,” he finally said, looking at you. “People who can… get you a new identity. We might have to change your appearance a bit, but… it could work.”

Your furrowed your brow. “Why?” you whispered. “Why would you do all this for me? You said it yourself, we barely know each other.”

Jimin knelt down in front of you, enfolding your hands in between his. “Because no one deserves to be treated badly,” he said seriously.

That sincere, warm look was back in his eyes, drawing you in, hypnotizing you into a state of resolution. Determination flowed through you, making your blood boil and tingles to break out along your spine. For the first time in your life, you felt your rebellious spirit rise up and possess you, drawing out courage you didn’t even know you had.

You looked deep into Jimin’s eyes and nodded. “Fine,” you said. “We fight.”

Jimin’s full lips turned upward in a smile. “My two favorite words.”

Without warning, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, causing you to stop breathing. The kiss lasted for only a few seconds, but to you, that kiss was your ticket to freedom. It helped you remember what you were fighting for every time life, your ex-fiance, or your father threw a wrench in your plans. It helped you remember exactly who you were, and how much power you held to change your life. It helped you find out what true love actually felt like.

But most importantly, It helped you remember that no matter what hell you were going through, you would do absolutely everything to just keep going.

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A Note From Kutemouse: So I’m a slut for orange-haired Jimin. Yep. Thought you should know that.

Annnnnyways, so this didn’t exactly fulfill the request given, and for that I feel bad, believe me, I do… but I’m sorry, I just can’t write abusive Jimin 🥺 I know that’s a popular thing out there (last I checked, the number one Jimin story on Wattpad was an abusive Jimin au), but I can’t write it. I just can’t see Jimin ever, ever, ever hitting someone or being abusive ever, and writing any BTS member in that light makes me sick to my stomach.

So, once again, I apologize kutie anon. I hope this one-shot is good enough for you to forgive me 💜

Also, please do NOT follow Y/n’s example and hop on the back of some stranger’s motorcycle to go live with him. There are good people in this world like Jimin, but there are also a lot of sketch people. Be safe, use good judgment and common sense.

Love you all 💜

Neighbors -pt.1

Pairing: Jimin X Reader (neighbors!au/stalker!au )

Synopsis: Finally achieving your successes in life you never expected the distraction that came with your new hot neighbor. He however, had been trying to get your attention for a much different reason.

Warnings: stalker, switch!jimin, dom!jimin,sub!jimin, noona kink, SMUT, allusion to forced actions (never LET anyone tell you WHAT you feel comfortable with kids), oral (female and male), masterbation, raw penetration (practice safe sex always!), cum shot, manipulation, fingering

Genre: smut /neighbors!au/stalker!au NOONA KINK

A/N: There is plenty of smut in this, I don’t know what i was thinking, but yeah 18+- this is a one shot, but who knows?

Keep reading

Loose ends | Park Jimin

Synopsis:  With a past you’d like to forget, you move out of town to start a new life in hopes that no one will ever learn of the bitch you used to be. You meet a man that is above you in every way and you wonder whether or not you deserved his kindness, but he had a completely different agenda.

Genre: E2L, Yandere, smut

Warnings: Mentions of spit, bodily fluids, hair pulling, spanking, degradation, deception, borderline non-con, dumbification, unprotected sex, bondage, dom!Jimin, Sub!reader, misuse of panties, masturbation, anal play, rimming, fingering,Titty slapping, gagging, panty sniffing, butt-plug (F), stalking, breeding kink, double penetration (with toy and c*ck),recording the reader without and with her knowledge, Big cock Jimin, Size kink, rough sex, biting, cum play, over-stimulation, roughness, Choking, Dick smashing (You’ll understand when you read it), Reader was a bit of a bitch in her past, Oral (F), orgasm denial (Kinda), A ridiculous amount of begging, Jimin pleading you to bed for him, talks of masturbation, crying (Due to pleasure), Pussy claiming, Revenge fucking, Love fucking, Spanking, obsession, breeding kink, squirting, cum play

Word count: 16.3k

A/N: This fic was a complete 50/50 collaboration between Noxie ( @scribblemetae​) and Kay ( @jkeuphoriadreamland​). It was absolute fantastic to work together and this was basically a result of us daydreaming about Jimin. We both really hope you enjoy reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it. If you found this through one of our blogs go send the other just as much love <3

Keep reading

Headlights | pjm (m)

Summary- Jimin is a fuckboi, rumor has it his tongue can make you see stars. Everyone assumes he’s this way because he just wants to have fun. No one dares look deeper, no one sees the haunted look in his eyes, the emptiness and pain that reside in their deep brown depths. Until you.

🎶 Headlights by The Classic Crime - “Please don’t face the headlights of oncoming cars alone.” 🎶

Word Count- 14.7k 🥴

Pairing- Jimin x reader

Genre- smut

Warnings- oral (female recieving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slightly rough sex, nipple piercing? is that warning?, some depression-like symptoms/thoughts, a little self destructive behavior? Kind of.

a/n: Part of the Tatted Bangtan Series! This is the longest fic I have ever written and it is my baby. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know what you think!  💕 

Weiterlesen

Luck (PJM)

Hey guys! Amanda here and I hope you enjoy this imagine. I’m not quite sure about making a ‘set-in-stone’ upload schedule because I do have a job but I am going to make it a goal for myself to upload twice a week. This imagine is a pretty long one but it was super fun to write so I hope you enjoy what I have to offer you. Happy not-so-fun 4th of July and stay safe out there <3

Genre: Fluff, Childhood Friends!Au

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, kissing, flashbacks

Summary: You’ve always been there for Jimin, supporting him through the majority of both of your lives, and he plans to thank you for it. 

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   Artist of the Year. Quite possibly if not THE most important and valuable award of the night. Important enough to be the very last award given and hold the title of a Daesang. Jimin sat on his cube-shaped seat, Hoseok to his left and Jungkook to his right. The nominees for the award played on the screen as their songs exited the speakers and suffocated the room, mixed with the cheers of each nominees’ fans. BTS were one of those nominees. Alongside Chungha, EXO, Taeyeon, and JANNABI. The tension that surrounded the idols was thick as they all waited patiently, or some, more impatiently, for Park Seo-joon to announce the winner. Jimin was staring at the ground a few meters away with an uneasy look on his face. He knew, along with the rest of BTS, Army, and possibly every other idol and fan in that building, that if they won, they would make history with two Daesang sweeps in a year. Yes, the tension was thick as blood. And while his head should have been present, present and in the game to support the other nominees as they came up on screen - maybe like Jungkook who was bobbing his head to every song - he couldn’t help but stare at the ground and think of one thing, or rather, one person.

   Throughout his six and a half years of being an idol with BTS, Jimin had given many speeches. Many thank you’s and dedications, many promises to the fans. However, tonight, he wanted to dedicate his speech - if they won - to the one person that he hasn’t really thought of giving thanks to, despite them deserving it more than he deserved that award. He slightly smirked at that thought, knowing that the person his mind was clouded with would have responded, “Debatable.” to it. But Jimin was sure of it. And he wanted to thank you in the most special way possible.

   You know those cliche moments when time slows down before a big moment for a character in a movie? That's how Jimin was feeling as the music faded out and the silent tension grew even thicker as they waited for the winner to spill out of Seo-joon’s mouth. Still staring at the ground, Jimin thought of the very, or more the very many reasons as to why he needed to thank you. Because you were always there. Through everything. Ever since you were kids. And for some unknown, ungodly reason, you decided to stick with him through it all instead of leaving like a level-headed person would. And like clockwork, as if his life was flashing before his very eyes, the memories of you two had resurfaced one by one, seeming like forever, but lasting a half of a second each. 

   “Jimin! Come downstairs, please!” Mrs. Park, Jimin’s mother, yelled from the bottom of the stairs. Six year old Jimin came bouncing down the stairs, looking up at his mom. 

   “Yes eomma?”

   “Come with me to greet our new neighbors, lovely.” 

   As they walked over to the new neighbors house, Jimin’s mother carried a welcome basket full of her and her husband’s baked goods while Jimin carried the welcome card. He looked up at his mom and asked, “Do they have a kid like me, eomma?”

   Mrs. Park simply smiled down at him, heartwarmed by his curiosity. “I don’t know, lovely. We have to see.” Jimin nodded at this information with a new look of determination on his face, committed to finding out if he could make a new friend. 

   Finally reaching the front door, Mrs. Park knocked and waited a few seconds. Jimin could hear a faint yelling behind the door, making out something like ‘can you get the door’ and ‘i’ll be there in a second.’ The door had opened revealing a small young girl, looking to be about the same age as Jimin.

   “Hello, sweetie. What’s your name?” Mrs. Park asked, smiling at the young girl.

   The young girl looked up at her before responding, “Y/N..” her eyes flickered to Jimin for a second before looking back to the woman. Jimin’s previous confidence seemed to fade as he  stood behind his mother’s legs, just peeking out behind her.

   Another woman had walked up behind Y/N, dusting off her hands on her jeans, “Hello!”

   “Hello! You must be Y/N’s mother! I’m Mrs. Park and I live next door with my husband and my six year old son, Jimin. Jimin, say hello.” She looked down at him. 

   The shy boy quietly looked at them and managed to give a quick wave while almost-whispering a small “hello.”

   The two women both smiled at his cuteness while Y/N mirrored Jimin behind her own mother’s legs. She looked at him curiously. 

   “We brought you a welcoming basket and card!” Mrs. Park said, handing the basket to her mother. Jimin had shyly handed her the card as well. 

   “Oh thank you! I’m Mrs. Y/L/N and I believe you already met my five year old daughter, Y/N.” She smiled. Mrs. Park smiled and nodded.

   Meanwhile, Y/N was still looking at Jimin. She was staring at his shirt, which had a pirate on it. For the first time since she introduced herself, Y/N had spoken, “I like your shirt…”

   Jimin looked at her to find him looking back at him, and he grinned shyly. “Thanks, I like it too.” 

   Y/N gave him a small smile, “I have a toy pirate set in my bedroom if you wanna go play with me?” she offered shyly, glancing up at her mother. Her mother nodded in encouragement, Mrs. Park softly smiling at the endearing moment. The two ladies shared a mischievous glance.

   Jimin’s eyes lit up as he looked up to his mother, “Please eomma?” he asked, almost begging. Mrs. Park giggled and nodded.

   “Just be home in time for dinner, lovely.” He nodded, smiling at his mother’s words. 

   The memory was a fond one, both Y/N and Jimin’s mothers still tease them to this day about how shy they were back then and how they both were scared that the two kids were going to go off on a ship and pillage the world, over your shared love of pirates. 

   Then, came the next memory. 

   “Jiminie!” Jimin turned his body to the sound of his beloved nickname, bestowed upon him by no other than you. He had declared sometime a few years ago that you were the only one who was allowed to call him that. Twelve year old Y/N came running at him with a big smile gracing her face. “You did it! You won!”

   Jimin smiled back at her, his gold taekwondo medal around his neck. She hugged him tightly, burying her face into his neck. “It’s because you were here. You’re my good luck charm.” He said, hugging her back. 

   She giggled at him, “You’re silly.”

   And although they were joking at the tender age of thirteen and twelve, his words became true. Y/N became his good luck charm, as he seemed to do well everytime she was present for a match or any other competition that Jimin had. So she kept showing up to them in support of him. Jimin could rely on her for those kinds of things, like he could rely on her for anything, leading him to the next memory. 

   You had opened your front door with a smile on your face, before it quickly dropped at the sight of your best friend. A fifteen year old Jimin stood there, soaked from the rain, eyes puffy and red, sniffling with a miserable smile on his face.

   “Hi..” he whispered. You didn’t hesitate to pull him inside from the cold, straight into your arms as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder. “Hana and I broke up..” He said. You somehow seemed to understand. Hana was Jimin’s first girlfriend, and he really liked her. They dated for a couple months so he must have been devastated. You said no words, you just stood there holding him as he let it all out on your shoulder. Your mother had come from the kitchen, a questioning glance on her face. Although he couldn’t see it, you shook your head slightly at her so she knew not to ask any questions.

   “Would you like to stay the night? Dinner is almost ready.” You whispered at him. He let go and looked at you, with a small smile on his face. He nodded as you grinned at him, taking his hand and pulling him towards the dinner table, where you and your mother were cooking dinner together.

   The rest of that night, you and your mom did your best to cheer Jimin up, cracking stupid jokes and dancing terribly to the music playing in the background as you finished cooking dinner. You and your mom always accepted Jimin into your family, just as his family accepted you. Hana was Jimin’s last girlfriend, despite her also being his first. What he didn’t tell you about the breakup though, was that she had tried to make him choose in between you and her out of jealousy. He chose you.

   “I got it.” Jimin said suddenly, breaking the silence that surrounded you both as you watched the sun set from the roof of your house. He was sixteen at the time, meaning you were 15. 

   Your head snapped towards him faster than the speed of light, and he had to hold his breath in order to not laugh at the astonished look on your face. However that look quickly changed into a large smile as you squealed of excitement. “I told you that you would get the scholarship, Jiminie! I’m so proud of you!” you kissed his cheek, making his cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. You giggled at his adorableness before saying, “It was lucky that you were picked, the pool of applicants was hella large. But you deserve it way more than all of those people.” 

   He smirked at you cheekily, “Who said anything about luck? I already had you.” It was your turn to blush this time, smacking him on the shoulder and turning towards the view. He barked out a laugh and put his head on your shoulder in endearment. Slowly, though, his smile fell. “I’m not sure I want to take it though..” He trailed off.

   You glanced at him in curiosity, “Why, JIminie?” You were startled and slightly concerned at this sudden confession. To your knowledge, this had always been his dream.

   He sighed, “I’m not sure how to explain it, really. I just feel like there is more out there for me. Like if I accepted this scholarship then I would be settling for a life in Japan and Busan only. Tied down to a career if you will. I feel like I have the potential to be more, to make more, to leave more of an impact. You know what I mean?” He looked at you, looking for reassurance. To him, he thought he sounded insane. His worries were lessened in seconds though, when you smiled gently at him and placed your hand on top of his, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

   “Yeah, I know what you mean. Whatever you decide, Jiminie, I’ll still be your good luck charm and support you.” You giggled at him, and his smile grew. He threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side as he messed up your hair with his other hand.

   “AH! Jimin!” You yelled, laughing with him.

  You weren’t lying. You did support him. You supported him throughout a lot. You supported him when he decided not to take the scholarship, you supported him when his teachers thought he made a mistake, and you supported him when he told you of his decision to move to Seoul, to seek that opportunity. 

   He saw your smile, big as day to the average bystander, but he has known you for eleven years. He saw how you were hiding your sadness. And that sadness had made up his mind in less than a second.

  “Come with me.” He stated. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him miraculously, as if he was insane. 

  “What?” You laughed out, baffled by his statement.

  He smiled at you and pulled you towards him, “Come with me. To Seoul, I mean.”

  You laughed out, however this time it was more joyful, “Okay.” you smiled. 

  “Okay?” He asked you, smiling even wider. It was an exchange full of smiles and joy. 

  You nodded, giggling at his response, “Okay, lets move to Seoul.”

  You two had gotten a fairly cheap apartment to share for a few months before he found a company called BigHit Entertainment. You were there to urge him to audition, since his shy nature had him doubting himself, making him feel like he wouldn’t make it even if he tried. You were also there to support him outside of his audition when he finally took your advice and went. 

  You both stood outside of the door, his name had just been called. All his nerves had resurfaced and he was tense. He took a quick breath before moving forward to go into the shark pit. 

  “Hey!” You called out, him turning around at the sound of your face. “Good luck, Jiminie.” You smiled at him, crossing your fingers for him.

  “Why need luck when I already have you?” He winked at you, walking backwards. You smiled and shook your head, sitting back down as he turned around walking into the room.

   What seemed like hours passed when in reality it was only a few minutes as you bit your nails, waiting for him to come out of the room. Suddenly the door opened and he walked out. His shoulders were slumped and he had a dull look on his face as he walked towards you. You sighed and took him into your arms.

  “Aw, Jiminie…” You said, attempting to comfort him.

   “Y/n?” he muffled, face nuzzled into your neck.

   “Yes?” You asked as you rubbed circles on his back.

  “I made it.” He smiled into your neck.

  “What.”

  “I made it. I passed the audition.”

  “AISH! Pabo! You had me so scared!” You smacked the back of his head. He laughed out loud as he picked you up, spinning you around. 

   You were there for it. Since his beginning in BigHit as a trainee and his entrance into BTS. You were there for it all. Even when he moved into the dorm with the other six boys, they had accepted you as family just as well as him. You were often seen at the dorm with them, early in the mornings cooking them breakfast before they left, making them lunch and bringing it to them, and cooking them dinner alongside Jin and sometimes Yoongi. In your perspective, it was the least you could do to support them, seeing how hard they worked each day. But you didn’t realize how much it meant to your best friend. You were there for Jimin through it all. For the fourteen-hour practice days, for the weeks in the studio, for the late nights that he cried to you, wanting to give up. But you refused to let him let go of his dream so easily. The whole reason he was here, in this seat and at this award show, was because of you. 

   “Bangtan Sonyeondan.”

  Jimin had been so immersed in his memories with you that he almost missed the way that Park Seo-Joon had announced the winner of Artist of the Year. He closed his eyes in relief, catching a small glance of how Jungkook had put his head in his arms, seeming to give thanks to whoever was on his mind at the time. Probably Army, Jimin thought. He stood up with the rest of his members and began their journey to the big stage. His legs moved, but his mind didn’t, thoughts still clouded with you, wondering how you were reacting right now. He remembered how you reacted when they won their very first Daesang in 2016. 

  He walked into the dressing room when he felt your weight slam into him, almost knocking him to the ground. He quickly steadied himself as his arms circled around your waist. He was expecting screaming, squealing, laughing, something among the spectrum of joy to come from you. What he got instead was a tight hug and your head crooked in his neck, small sniffles coming from you. 

  “Wha- are you crying?” He looked at you, a smile forming on his face. Normally he would tease you, but he had just finished shedding a few tears himself. 

   “Shut up,” you mumbled, making him laugh, “I’m just so proud of you.”

  He smiled at your words and pulled you away, looking into your eyes. They sparkled with the tears that you were shedding, even though they sparkled without them anyway.

  “You did it, Jiminie. You achieved your dreams.” You said, tone close to a whisper. He smiled at you and pulled you back into him.

  “Trust me, it’s only the beginning.”

  He was right. It was only the beginning of BTS’ journey on the charts. He had accomplished many things with BTS, his members serving as his brothers and his best friends, but you held another special place in his heart. Because you were there from the very beginning. Of everything.

  As they reached the mic, Tae had taken it upon himself to give the first speech. Jimin stood there, looking among the crowd at all the fans, amazed. However, his head was still heavily clouded on thoughts of you, and how to thank you for always being there. He was already smiling, but it grew wider as he thought of how you supported him in every little thing, even things such as their variety show, Run BTS.

  It was just before they started shooting the next episode of Run when Jimin had come up to you, your place being behind the cameras. You were sitting next to Manager Sejin, laughing about something. He smiled at how comfortable you looked, among this crazy life of his. How you just fit in. He shook his head at the thought. Of course you fit in, you’ve been there since it all started. 

  You noticed him walking up to you and smiled at him. “Hey.” you smiled.

  “Hey.” He said. You looked him up and down, he wore a nicely fitted suit.

  “Well don’t you look dapper.” You said, giggling. 

  He smirked at you, “Always dressed for the best, madam.” He bowed dramatically, making you transition from giggling to laughing out loud. 

  He walked closer to you and kissed your forehead. 

  “Good luck, Jiminie. I’m rooting for you.” You smirked, knowing how rare it was for him to win a run episode.

  “Luck? Never heard of it. I have you though, so I should be okay.” he smirked back at you before being called back to the set to film the twenty-sixth episode of Run. And just like all those years ago, he won, and of course, he thought it was because his good luck charm was there to support him.

  Jimin looked towards the mic to see that it was Hobi speaking. Jimin was next, and he wasn’t prepared at all. Well, moreover he knew what to say, he just didn’t know how to say it. He racked through his brain trying to find anything to say, but all that came was another memory. 

  “I believe in you, you’ll do fine.” Y/n giggled over the phone.

  Jimin smiled at the sound before looking towards the clock. What was seven o’clock pm here in the United States was ten o’clock over in Korea. Unfortunately you had obligations to attend to at your own job, so traveling with him to the AMAs wasn’t an option. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t set up with a bowl of popcorn and a blanket on your couch with the TV on, ready to watch him and BTS perform.

  “It’s our first performance at an American award show, I just- I’m nervous,” he ran his hand over his face, “If we mess it up then our chances of charting in the U.S. could be ruined, our name mocked, our hard work in ruins.”

  He could almost see the smirk you held over the phone, “Don’t worry about it, Jiminie. I’m watching and I am one-hundred percent sure that you guys will absolutely rock that stage and blow all those American’s socks off!” You giggled.

  He smiled at you over the phone before Tae came to tell him that they’re leaving. “Well I have to go..” he trailed off.

  “Good luck.” You said.

  “You’re my luck, Y/N” he said, letting out a breath.

  Jungkook had to nudge Jimin in the side for Jimin to come back to his senses. He looked around to see that they were all looking at him. He took a deep breath and stepped up to the microphone.

  “Um, I’m sure that the others had already thanked everyone they needed to thank. I want to, of course, dedicate this award to Army, and thank you all for everything you all have done,” he smiled at the loud roar of cheers. “Over the years, over all the award shows we’ve attended and all the awards we have won, I have thanked many people. From my family, to my teachers, to our managers, our producers, the rest of the staff and Bang PD, and of course, my brothers,” he glanced at BTS who were all smiling at him, “but there’s one person I have yet to thank, and they probably are the one person that deserves it the most.” He took a deep breath. He wasn’t nervous of Army’s reaction, they already knew you existed. You had joined him for many V-Lives, made appearances with him at a few award shows and parties, and even sang a cover with him. No, he was more nervous about getting his point across.

  “Y/N,” he said, smiling at the uproar of cheers from his fans at your name, “you have always been present and a part of my life for the past twenty years. I still remember when we were five and six and we bonded over our shared love of pirates when I came to greet you to the neighborhood for the first time.” He chuckled, letting out a few tears. He was emotional, to say the least. “You’ve always been there to support me in absolutely every journey I have ever encountered and have celebrated with me for every accomplishment I have achieved. You were the one to convince me to audition for BigHit, and you refused to let me quit when things became too rough. I don’t think I could have made it this far without you. I just wanted to say thank you for that, and most of all, thank you for being my best friend.” He ended his little speech, claps and cheers following. Lastly, Namjoon stepped up to the microphone to give his ending speech before they left.

  Jimin’s thoughts however, didn’t leave you. He kept thinking about how you reacted to his speech, dedicated to you. Whether you were crying or squealing in the dressing room backstage. 

  Yes, you were here too. Sitting in the dressing room watching everything. He remembered earlier, before he went on stage to perform.

  “Good luck, Jiminie.” You whispered, holding your pinky out.

  He smiled at you, hooking his finger with yours, “Why need luck when I already have you?”

  He stood there as Namjoon gave his speech. Jimin was deep into his thoughts about you. How you were there for everything, for twenty years, for his wins and his losses, for his crazy life. How he was without a doubt, undeniably, and sickenly in love with you. It appears that it just took him this long to figure out that you had always been there, present in his life, and that he wouldn’t rather have anyone else by his side.

  They started walking back to the dressing room and the boys were all congratulating each other. Staff and other idols were congratulating them as they passed by but they were all a blur to Jimin, as his one goal was to find you. Once he located the dressing room, he took a big breath before opening it and walking in.

  And there you stood, looking at him expectantly, tears streaming down your face. With that first glance towards you also came a rush of confidence. He walked over to you in large strides and slammed his lips onto yours, one hand on your cheek and the other on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. It took you a couple seconds to process what was happening, but you started to kiss back, tears still streaming down your face. The boys in the background were wolf-whistling and cheering. Jimin was pretty sure he heard Jungkook yell something along the lines of ‘finally’ but he didn’t care. All he wanted was you, however the need for oxygen was too much and he pulled away slowly. 

  You looked up at him with teary eyes, but your lips curled into a shy smile, kind of like the same smile that you gave him when you two met for the very first time.

  “Hey, Little Luck.” He mumbled, staring into your eyes. His nickname for you was fitting, he had given it to you when he won his first taekwondo match that you went to, just having turned twelve.  

  You giggled, “Hi, Jiminie..” You glanced at the boys and your cheeks turned pink. Your eyes flickered back to him before you let out a breath, “You did it Jiminie. You made history.” You stated, smiling wider.

  He grinned at you, gave you a peck on the lips, and another on your forehead. “Not without you, I couldn’t have.”

  You two stood there for a couple seconds before you pulled away with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous glint in your eye.

  “So is this your confession where you tell me how much you love me and how perfect I am?” You teased, running your fingers through his hair.

  He barked out a laugh and grinned wolfishly at you, “Indeed it is, Little Luck, indeed it is.”

  You laughed with him, “Well I guess it’s only fitting to say that I love you too.” 

  And in this moment, Jimin knew you were going to be there for him for the long run, the rest of his life. Well, he had always known that, but now it just took on a whole new meaning. Not only would you be there as his best friend, but as his lover. And he couldn’t wait to embark on more journeys and adventures with you as his right-hand woman, giving you all the care and love you deserve from all the years of continuous and endless support you provided him. No, he didn’t need any luck in moving on with his life and career, because he already had you. The End.

Coincidence’s Happen...(PJM)

So I haven’t posted in like months but I got this idea in the shower and I just HAD to write it cause it’s too good, lemme know if I should make this a series? I’m also currently working on another one shot and another series that both of which I have not touched for weeks cause I’m unmotivated but I will get them out at some point, I promise. I feel like I just need to get back in the groove of writing again.

Genre: Humor, crack

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 522

Warnings: crack head culture, brief and minor mentions of death and kidnapping

Summary: "Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook have all the permission in the world to end my life and I would say thank you.”

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  Small and gentle fingertips picked up the black cellphone that rested on the cement ground, just a few feet outside of Freeman’s Bar. Sweet and dark eyes glided over the few cracks that split up the screen of the mysterious phone. With the thought of trying to find out it’s owner, padded fingertips pressed against the phone’s home button, producing a small click sound and turning the device on. 

  Normally, people have those basic backgrounds that phones provide, or maybe the more sentimental type have pictures of them and their friends or significant others as their wallpaper. That was not the case with this phone. A picture, a simple picture at that, of a note. Eyebrows furrowed at the peculiar wallpaper, peculiar enough to catch attention and to read. 

  “If you are looking at this and you are not me, unlock my phone and go into my notes! Read the note titled “Hello Stranger!” Code is 0613″

  The corners of full and peach-colored lips slighted upwards, a strange request it is, but alas, those same fingertips typed in the coincidental code and followed the instructions listed on the wallpaper. Tapping on the note, eyes began gliding over words.

  “Hi stranger! If you find this phone then one of two things happened that caused it to be anywhere but my back right pocket. One, I dropped it and lost it. If that is the case, then please go to my emergency contacts and call the one titled Best Friend. Two, I was kidnapped and/or murdered and you should probably go to the police. UNLESS, if by any moment in my life I ended up on God’s good graces and was murdered by Park Jimin or Jeon Jungkook. If THAT is the case, then under NO CIRCUMSTANCES please for the love of God DO NOT call the police. These two men have all the permission in the world to take my life away and I will simply say thank you from the afterlife. Thank you, you now have your instructions, carry them out.”

  A sweet, honey sounding laugh filled the air surrounding the environment. Padded fingertips clicked on the emergency contact list and called the name “Best friend” as a large smile shined with amusement.

  “Hello?” A timid voice answered.

  “Um hi, I found this phone on the ground outside of Freeman’s Bar and you were listed under emergency contacts?”

  An exasperated sigh followed, “Y/n! Someone found your phone!” A muffled scream of excitement sounded through and shuffling was heard.

  “Hi, I’m Y/n! I heard you found my phone?” A new, feminine voice rang through.

  “Yeah, I did. I’m outside of Freeman’s Bar right now in case you want to come pick it up.” quiet chuckles left the lips of the unknown stranger.

  “Yeah, totally, I will come meet you and pick it up!”

  Another smile graced the surrounding environment, “Sounds good, see you soon then.”

  “Wait!” The voice rang through again, quick and panicked, “What’s your name? So I can find you.”

  A shit-eating grin formed on the face of the stranger who was holding the lost phone, “Park Jimin.”