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MEMES AH THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY NOTES APP FOR WEEKS 😩😩😩

please know that I adored this and was an incredible balance of angst and cute and 😩 and 🤪 and I wish I had said all of this sooner bc this made me literally laugh out loud but also want to scream at them multiple times oh my lord

FIRSTLY "tonight's the night he's going to ask you out after all." AW GO BESTIE GO YOU GOT THIS 🥰 

The amount of cockblocking from tae (AND OTHERS) in this fic is unparalleled I'm obsessed

"he can’t very well have the conversation he wants with another person attached to him." I died I laughed so hard I died tae is LITERALLY a puppy lmaoooo

"How’s he supposed to compete with his sculpted by the gods best friend when it comes to winning you over?" HAHAHAH

"Why were they so broad? Who needed shoulders like that? How did he go through any door ways without having to turn sideways?"

"How do you have this much of an effect on him?" 🥰 🥰 🥰  JIMIN

OH NO SHE'S LEAVING AND NOT COMING BACK OH NO OH NO OH NO WHAT HAPPENS NOW

“I can practically hear you overthinking, focus on me instead,” 🥺🥺 MY HEART IIIIIIII AWWWWW

wow I am so impressed that is a HARD conversation to have and i’m so glad jin was like GO BRO GO

memes, this is such a fun read wow the rollercoaster of emotion is EXCELLENT you so perfectly captured the stress and anxiety of trying to read and interpret mixed signals, AND THEN the release of them together is SO PRECIOUS!!! BUT THEN THERE WAS EVEN MORE?!?!? and the question of what happens when one person is unsure!??!?! that's so scary to navigate and you gave the feeling such honesty (and PAIN). I love where they both ended up and I hope for the best for both of them 🥰 🥰 

fall like moondrops -> PJM

(Banner made by the incredible @persphonesorchid)

University's over and the rest of Jimin's life is about to start but there's one more thing he needs before he's ready to embrace whatever future awaits him.

Jimin x F!Reader word count: 17141 genre: smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers

warnings: car sex, fingering, lots of pining, tagging: @hamsterclaw @btsstan a/n: part of the Autumn Leaves Collab a new fic drops every saturday (and check out Jiya's that dropped last week!) beta read by the amazing @blog-name-idk

The sun is starting to set by the time Jimin makes it to the beach. 

Classes are long since over, but he had still been at the dance studio working on his newest routine in preparation for upcoming auditions to various dance companies. There’s a showcase around the corner that could easily define his entire future and even though he’s had several promising offers already, Jimin can’t help but worry. 

He knows he’s over-practicing but that’s why he’s forced himself to go to the bonfire. 

University is over, he can stop putting the rest of his life on hold now that he’s not so stressed about what his future might look like. He’s allowed to relax more than he usually lets himself.

Besides, Namjoon promised that you would be at this bonfire and, really, that’s enough motivation for him. 

Tonight’s the night he’s going to ask you out after all. 

.

It takes Jimin a minute before he joins the crowd surrounding the fire. 

Music is blaring from a bluetooth speaker someone brought and buried partially in the sand. A small group of clearly buzzed people are dancing along to the music and there’s a gaggle of them playing along the shoreline, letting the cold waves lap at their feet. 

He spends a long moment observing, lingering back by the row of cars that line the parking lot so that he can take in everything. Parties like this haven’t really been his thing since his freshman year when he was experimenting with all facets of university life, and he almost feels out of place. Especially since he was late. 

Mostly, though, he’s trying to look for you. 

When he does find you, seated along one of the logs dragged over to surround the bonfire, he can’t help the large grin that spreads across his face. It’s hard for him to keep from making a fool of himself and rushing over there but he takes a minute to breathe, to let the sight of you sit with him. 

It’s unfair how effortlessly beautiful you are to him. 

It doesn’t matter that your hair is messily pulled up in a ponytail or that you’re wearing nothing more than a loose sweater that hangs off your shoulder and leggings. Jimin thinks he could look at you for hours and not grow tired of it. 

You’re holding a beer with both hands, running a finger along the peeling label, with your elbows propped up on your knees and bare feet buried into the sand. Your gaze is mostly fixed on the fire, watching as it flickers and burns, but occasionally your attention will be snagged and you’ll blink yourself back into reality just in time to laugh along with whatever your friends are saying. 

Jimin’d like to be the one making you smile and laugh. 

It’s that desire that carries him forward, smiling politely at the people he passes by closely with quiet little, heys without ever really stopping to talk because he doesn’t want to get derailed or distracted, and lifting his hand in a partial wave to the people further away that call his name with the expectation that he might come over to them.

He doesn’t, looking away quickly so he doesn’t feel guilty about it.

Surely there will be time for it later, after he’s drank his fill of you. If that’s even possible.

Jimin doesn’t even stop to grab a drink and when he finally makes it over to the log you’re sitting on he feels a little foolish for it. 

Then, you notice his presence and seem to light up and any concerns he might’ve had about looking like a fool flies away. His smile is warm, easily spreading across his lips, when he takes a seat near you. One leg is tucked beneath the other and his torso is twisted towards you. 

“Hey,” he says, soft and low. 

You shift to match his pose and he feels his heart tha-thump in response. “Hi Jimin.”

.

His moment with you is basically over before it’s even begun. 

Just as the two of you are about to get into a conversation someone is bellowing his name. 

He barely has time to react before there’s a weight pressed against his back and arms slung over his shoulders. “Jiminie,” the person draping themselves on him whines, “where have you been?” 

Irritation flickers across his face for a split second before he makes himself grin and turn his head to look at the boy invading his space. “Hey, Taehyung,” he greets, shoulders wiggling to hint that maybe Tae should detach himself from him.

Tae doesn’t seem to get the hint, plopping himself on the log right behind Jimin. His hands drop from the dancer’s shoulders to his waist and his chin takes a spot on the now free shoulder. 

His best friend has always been physically affectionate and normally Jimin would welcome it, indulge Taehyung as much as he wanted but right now he wants nothing more than to peel himself free. He wants to talk to you instead and he can’t very well have the conversation he wants with another person attached to him. 

At least you’re looking at the pair of them with amusement written all over your face. Still, Jimin’s cheeks flush when you lock eyes and he reaches up to awkwardly pat his friend on the head. 

“I’ve been practicing, you know that,” Jimin says, remembering to answer the question asked. “My showcase is in a couple of weeks.” 

Taehyung’s quiet for a moment, too distracted by the gentle pets before he whines and sort of nudges at Jimin’s hand because he wants to have his scalp scratched instead. Reluctantly, he indulges him. Maybe if he gives Tae what he wants, the boy will leave sooner. 

“Are you nervous?” You ask, lifting your beer bottle to your mouth for a swig. You haven’t stopped looking at him (and his best friend) and he can’t decide if he likes the way that knowledge makes his stomach twist. 

“Jiminie’s got no reason to be,” Taehyung chirps, untangling himself just enough that he can flash his boxy grin at you. The smile you flash in return makes a spark of jealousy jolt through Jimin’s belly. It’s a warmer smile than you usually give and he wonders if maybe you haven’t been looking at him at all.

Maybe you’re looking at his best friend instead.

And while Jimin is utterly, undeniably jealous of that possibility, he doesn’t know if he has it in him to be mad or to blame you. Objectively, Taehyung is probably the most handsome man alive. He’s got a perfectly square and sharp jawline, piercing eyes that can rock any color contact, and the most expressive eyebrows he’s ever had the (un)fortunate privilege of having used against him. 

Plus, he’s a man that can quite literally wear the ugliest clothing known to man and somehow make it look good. 

If Jimin’s looks are beautiful, Taehyung’s are downright otherworldly. He’s not sure there’s anyone that could really hold a candle to the man’s handsomeness.

Well, Jin would probably argue that he was the world wide handsome one but Jimin’s not sure if that’s true or not. 

Your soft laughter pulls him from his thoughts, Jimin blinking when he realizes that you’re talking to him. 

“It’s true, isn’t the showcase more of a formality than anything else?” You ask, shifting to lean forward. His eyes follow the way your sweater slips further off your shoulder and exposes the line of your collarbone. 

He swallows, quickly adverting his gaze lest he get a boner while Taehyung’s hands are basically sitting in his lap from looking at something as simple as your clavicle. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, mentally cursing the way he trips over his tongue. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “It’s mostly a formality, I have a lot of offers already but this will have a couple of recruiters that might be promising.” 

“You should come!” Taehyung exclaims, making Jimin jump slightly because he (almost) forgot the boy was behind him. Luckily, he doesn’t fall from his seat because of the secure grip around his waist. “We can go together.” 

Jimin can’t see Tae’s face but he knows the boy waggling his brows at you in encouragement. Taehyung’s always been the brazen one of them, unafraid to say what he’s thinking, and right now Jimin wishes he was far far away from this party.

How’s he supposed to compete with his sculpted by the gods best friend when it comes to winning you over? 

Jimin’s starting to get lost in his own head, torn between wanting to groan and burying his face in his hands like it’ll get him out of whatever this situation’s turning into. 

Instead, he runs his fingers through his hair and makes himself chuckle. “Yeah. I’d love to have you there.” 

Your brow raises in an oh really motion and Jimin really wishes he had a drink if only to give him something to do while he recovers from how that look makes him feel. 

While you haven’t stopped smiling since they showed up, the smile you give him turns into something softer. He thinks he can see the way fondness makes you huff a little breath as it widens and suddenly he’s thankful for the way Tae’s wrapped around him. 

Jimin’s sure he would have melted into the sand in the most embarrassing way if he wasn’t. 

“Then I’ll be there,” you promise. 

Taehyung finally untangles himself from around Jimin and moves to plop beside you so you can exchange contact information. 

He’s still the tiniest bit jealous of how easily his friend seems to be able to interact with you but he’s not as annoyed with his appearance any longer. 

After all, he’s the reason you’ve agreed to watch him dance in the showcase and he has to admit that the conversation is a little easier right now.

.

Eventually Taehyung wanders off, drawn away by what appears to be a convoluted game of tag with another one of their friends and a bunch of clearly tipsy, giggly girls. 

It’s easy to turn down his invite when you do too and Jimin finds that he’s buzzing with anticipation of actually getting to be (mostly) alone with you. There’s still enough space between you on the log for another, which he plans to rectify, but there’s no one else around. Or at least, they’re not close enough to matter. 

“You sure you don’t want to join them?” You ask him, looking away long enough to take in the way the others play on the beach. 

“Nah,” Jimin replies, easily, nose crinkling as he scoots forward so that when you look back over, he’s close enough to reach for your hand. “I’d rather hang out here.” 

Your eyes crinkle as your face seems to light up, tips of your fingers grazing his before the moment is interrupted by a loud, too happy voice and…the sound of guitar strings being plucked. 

“Y/N! There you are!” 

Every part of Jimin feels like it’s on high alert when he registers who’s interrupting. It doesn’t help that the impossibly handsome man settles himself between you, wiggling his ass enough to the point Jimin’s forced to scoot away and give him more room. 

“Hey Jinnie,” you coo, sounding incredibly warm and pleased at the taller man’s appearance. 

If looks could kill, Jimin’s scowl would have dug several daggers into the wide expanse of back blocking his view. In fact, based on how Jin’s positioned himself, it feels like he’s purposely obstructing Jimin’s view of you with his stupid broad shoulders.

Why were they so broad? Who needed shoulders like that? How did he go through any door ways without having to turn sideways? 

And when did you start calling him Jinnie? He knew the two of you were close, closer than any of your other shared friends, but to say his name all cutesy like that? Had something in your relationship changed? 

Jimin’s stomach churned at that thought and he didn’t realize that he was spacing out, face pale until you’re peering around those stupidly large shoulders and leaning over Jin to wave a hand in his face. 

“You okay Jiminie?” 

Jerking back, he shakes his head then blinks several times. “Uh, sorry. What did you say?” He asks, wondering if he heard you right. 

“Yeah, everything alright Jiminie?” Jin asks, almost seeming to sneer when he says Jimin’s name. 

The sudden hostility makes Jimin shrink back, eyes wide as he blinks at the older man before his eyebrows crinkle together. Their humor doesn’t always align, but it’s never been like this before. Then, the would be sneer is gone once his gaze refocuses on Jin’s soft, handsome features instead replaced with a big grin when he reaches out to clasp a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. 

“All that practicing is really making you a space cadet huh?” Jin teases and Jimin forces himself to smile and laugh. 

Rubbing at the back of his neck he shrugs, chin tilted just enough that he can peer over the other man to look at you. “I guess? I’ve been living and breathing dance for a while, it’s easy to get a little lost in my head without realizing it.” He sounds sheepish when he says that, sort of shrinking into himself like it might be something he should be embarrassed about.

“Leave him alone Seokjin,” You sigh, nudging the man with your elbow. “At least he has an excuse, what’s yours?” 

The offended gasp that leaves Jin is so dramatic, Jimin can’t help but smile at it. Or maybe it’s you defending him, either way, he feels a little less ashamed and more amused. 

“Using my full name?!” Jin settles the guitar between his knees and clasps both hands over his heart, teetering back like you’ve physically wounded him. “And you’re insulting me? You know I only need this handsome face and not brains to get by.” 

Jimin watches as you roll your eyes at Jin, taking a final swig of your drink before you’re grinning broadly at him. His own slips as he watches the way you interact with one another. 

There’s a familiarity between the two of you that he longs for, an ease in your interactions that can only come from knowing the other. That comes from the intimacy shared between two people who are undeniably close. His heart aches for those things.

But he’s got his chance to have them now, doesn’t he?

And the fantasies he’s got in his head of growing closer to you, of making you laugh, of having you tease him-- they’re all such a lovely picture painted in his head. It’s easy for Jimin to get lost in the image which is why he misses the way you banter until Jin’s picking his guitar up and strumming it while he tunes. 

“Oh come on Jinnie, you’re really going to start playing out here?” You groan. Somewhere in the distance the playlist’s been turned off. Or the speaker died, Jimin isn’t really sure but it’s suddenly very quiet and it feels like everyone close to the fire is looking at the three of you. 

“Excuse you, it’s not playing it’s performing,” Jin huffs back, invading your space and puffing out his cheeks in a way that makes you laugh and Jimin’s stomach twists with envy. 

The older boy is terribly close to you, so close that Jimin fears that if he looks away, he’ll look back to find Jin kissing you so he tries to interrupt the moment. 

“Hey--” Jimin croaks, cheeks flushing when he clears his throat and tries again. “What are you going to ‘perform’?” He asks, air quotes and all. 

Jin whips around to him so fast that one of those stupidly broad shoulders connects with Jimin’s chest and sends him toppling backwards off the log. “A love song!” 

Jimin is a mess of flailing limbs as he crashes into the sand, head spinning as he tries to sit up. Squinting at Jin’s tilted head he processes what he said. “L-love song?” 

He’s given a look that says duh from Jin and when he looks over at you, he can see the way your brows have pinched together. Panic’s starting to swell in his chest while he picks himself up off the ground, dusting grains of sand from his body. 

“How else am I going to profess my love to Y/N?” Jin declares, a mischievous look on his stupidly handsome face. 

Jimin’s never been one inclined for violence but he’d like nothing more than to not only smash the older boy’s guitar but to throttle him too. In fact, he can picture it perfectly, the wooden instrument making perfect kindling for the fire and Jin could experience what it’s like to be shoved into the sand. 

“W-what? No. Jin. No.” You’re protesting but suddenly all Jimin can hear is white noise as Jin starts to strum the melody of some song he doesn’t fully recognize. “Absolutely not. Don’t you dare--” 

He doesn’t wait to hear the rest of it, legs carrying him backward instinctively. He needs to get away, he can’t watch this. Jimin can’t possibly watch as the girl he’s been mooning over is snatched right out of the palm of his hands. 

He’s too busy trying to put distance between himself and whatever’s happening that he doesn’t hear you calling for him.

.

Frustrated, Jimin finds himself standing by the ocean’s edge with his hair pushed back from his forehead and chin tipped up while he looks at the almost full moon twinkling above. 

He’d thought that tonight was going to be the night that he finally confessed but nothing seems to be going right.

Every time he gets close to telling you how he feels, to asking you out, something comes along and interrupts the two of you, and now…Now Jin is dedicating songs to you and playing his guitar.

Jimin wants to laugh in bitter frustration, insecurity crawling up his spine and settling in the spaces to reach for his heart. 

He’s a fool, isn’t he? 

There’s no way he can compete with Jin for your attention, let alone affection. The two of you have been close for years while he’s always stayed on the fringe of your shared friend group. It’s not that he didn’t want to but the timing was never right and he was focusing on dance.

He didn’t think you unreachable then, but he’s starting to feel like you’re unreachable now. 

All the confidence he had when he first arrived at the beach is slowly slipping from him, dropping like grains of sands between his fingers, and being swept up by the ocean’s waves that lick at his feet. It’s not helping that he can faintly hear Jin’s silvery voice in the background or that when he closes his eyes he can picture you listening to whatever song the older man is singing with rapt attention. 

He can imagine exactly how you must be looking at Jin. It’s easy because he’s sure it looks identical to the longing looks he throws your way. Soft adoration, your chin likely in your hand as you lean your body towards him, staring dreamily like there’s nothing else you’d rather be looking at than his handsome face. 

Jimin’s not even mad at the way Jin’s been acting with you today. Sure, the man knows about his feelings but at the same time…how could he blame his friend who knows even better than Jimin how wonderful you are?

Jimin’s had plenty of opportunities to confess at this point and yet he keeps stumbling, messing up every time he tries. Of course, someone confident and self-assured as Jin would take a shot. It’s like he has two left feet when it comes to interacting with you.  

For someone who is so graceful when he dances, Jimin certainly is clumsy when it comes to his everyday life. 

“There you are.” 

Your soft voice startles him from his thoughts, Jimin’s body shuddering with surprise when he takes half a step forward before twisting towards you with wide eyes. 

His mouth opens once, then shuts before his brow furrows while he looks at you and tries to figure out if he’s dreaming or not. You couldn’t have been looking for him, Jin was busy serenading you--

“I brought you a beer,” you tell him, looking almost shy as you raise it his way before crossing the sand to join him. 

You’re holding the beer out to him wearing a tentative, unsure smile that makes him snap out of his daze. With a slight shake of his head to help clear his thoughts, he closes the distance between the two of you and a large grin spreads across his lips, turning his eyes into little crescent moons until he’s beaming at you brighter than the moon overhead. 

The smile you offer in return makes his breath hitch, the sharp inhale making his own falter as his head blanks. 

How do you do that?

How do you have this much of an effect on him? 

“Jimin?” Once again, your voice snaps him back to reality and he clambers to accept the offered beer. 

“Thanks,” he says in a hurry, hoping he hasn’t totally fucked things up now that the two of you are somehow alone. 

Then, like an idiot he asks, “What are you doing over here, wasn’t Jin singing you a love song?” 

Your smile slips, nose wrinkling in displeasure before you shuffle a little closer and then just plop down onto the sand by his feet. “Please, it wasn’t a love song.” 

He watches as you wave a hand dismissively before lifting your own bottle to your lips to take a swig. After a beat, you continue. “He just thinks he’s funny.” Your chin tips up and he tries to hide how the way you look at him knocks him off balance. 

Your eyes are bright, the ocean’s surface reflecting off of them, and your grin makes the corners of them crinkle in a way he can’t help but find utterly endearing. Your nose is scrunched again and he’s nearly overcome with the urge to lean down and kiss the tip. 

He can’t believe how adorable you look sitting in the sand cross-legged and looking up at him with stars twinkling in your eyes.

Do you have any idea what you’re doing to his heart? 

“Yeah? I thought--” 

“No. No,” you’re quick to cut him off, a light giggle ringing out into the night air, and Jimin thinks he might swoon again. Fuck, he needs to confess already before you do something that manages to knock him out with endearment. 

“Besides, you weren’t there and I was hoping we’d get to spend some time together.” You aren’t looking at him now, your gaze shifted to stare out at the water as it licks at your bare feet. The way you’ve turned your head lets him see the faintest dusting of red across your cheeks and he thinks his heart stops at the realization. 

You’re blushing. Because of him. You’re blushing, because of him. 

When he fails to answer because he’s too busy letting his brain short circuit while his mouth hangs open like a gaping idiot, you call his name again and he finds you staring up at him with an expression he can’t quite read. 

But suddenly your hand is reaching for his empty one and all thoughts and concerns disappear. 

“Come on, sit,” you urge, tugging with just enough force that his body bends to your actions. To his surprise, he doesn’t faceplant into the sand like he thinks the sudden movement would make him. Instead, he sinks down into a cross-legged position easily. 

The delight on your face brings him back to the present and he takes a swig of his beer to hide the fact that he’s so flustered by you being flustered that he can’t even speak. 

It’s now or never, he thinks. Sucking in a breath, Jimin decides that he’s been clumsy enough with you today, he’s going to be smooth for once. 

His knee knocks against yours as he leans forward, into your space, with his palm sinking into the sand in a poor attempt to steady himself as he goes for it. You lean into him too and it helps calm the once steadily increasing beat of his heart. 

When your lips press together, it’s like everything is settling into place because his body relaxes and every self-deprecating thought that had been building in his head before you showed up moments ago washes away. 

.

Each kiss you share is better than the last. 

At some point, Jimin had pulled you into his lap. Wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward until you were sitting pretty on his thighs and your arms had twined around his neck. 

He hasn’t stopped kissing you since you first let him and he has no intention of stopping any time soon. Not when he’s been waiting what feels like an eternity to have you wrapped up with him like this. Even when he’s had to breathe his lips haven’t fully left yours, just shifted enough that he’s practically breathing in each breath you huff out. 

Jimin’s always wanted you but this warmth, this yearning in his belly feels a lot more like a needy hunger and he doesn’t think that it’s the kind of hunger that can ever be sated. 

Which, that’s perfectly fine with him. 

It seems impossible to fathom a future where he isn’t eager to drink up or taste everything you might have to offer him. 

Eventually, though, you draw back because your chest is heaving from the lack of air that’s been allowed to pass between you. Jimin doesn’t let you drift far, a warm hand on your back keeping you from leaning away, and instead pushes you forward again so that he can press his forehead against yours. 

It’s like now that he knows what it’s like to press against you, to hold you like he’s been doing, it’s impossible for him to do anything else. 

You already consumed his thoughts, but now it’s like you’re consuming every inch of him and he can’t help but want to let you. To beg that from you.

And when you tug him closer, sliding your cheek against his to rest your chin on the curve of his shoulder, he lets you. Even though he’d really like to keep kissing you. 

Jimin thinks that he would kiss you forever if given the chance. 

He’ll take getting to press his nose against the line of your neck as it curves into your shoulder, exposed by that glorious oversized sweater of yours, as a great consolation prize. 

“You okay?” Jimin asks, hand rubbing your back as he shifts his face just enough that when he inhales, he can get a nice whiff of the shampoo or conditioner you use. It smells like citrus and he thinks he could drown in the scent if you let him. 

As it is, in an effort to not be too weird, he draws back to press his lips gently against the side of your neck. 

Feeling you shiver against him ignites a warmth in his stomach and makes him wonder what he has to do to make you quiver beneath him. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter in response and Jimin can feel the heat of your breath against his skin, “Just-- need a second.” 

He hums in understanding, Afterall, every part of him feels like a live wire right now. He can only imagine how you’re feeling with the way you try to catch your breath. 

Jimin can’t help himself, now that he knows what it’s like to kiss you he can’t seem to stop kissing you in some manner. Each peck to the exposed flesh of your shoulder is soft, more chaste than he would like for how wound up he is, but he’s trying to be respectful of the fact that you asked for a moment and he wants to give it to you.

He’s simply unable to sit still and do nothing when you have this expanse of skin begging for his lips. 

At some point one of your arms has completely wrapped around his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle above his collarbone just beneath the collar of his shirt. The other’s slid up the back of his head, dark strands tangled until you’re gripping the longer pieces. 

When he gives in and nips at your shoulder, your hold on his hair tightens enough to make him whine. His hips buck up involuntarily in response and the noise you make nearly has him coming undone. 

His self-restraint is being held by a flimsy, fraying thread that he’s surprised hasn’t snapped by now. 

“Baby,” he groans, pulling his head back and gently coaxing you back so he can look at you. So he can properly gauge how you’re feeling and where to go from here. “How many…uh,” he stops, giving you a sheepish grin when he lifts a hand to card it through his hair like the motion will settle the lust fog that’s starting to cloud his head. 

“How many more seconds do you need?” He manages, looking at you and seeing how almost fucked out you look. 

His heart stutters because if you look like this when all he’s done is kiss you, then what are you going to look like when he finally gets inside you? 

It’s unfair how the sight of you with your messy ponytail falling apart, kiss-swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and lust-clouded eyes makes his dick twitch in his pants. It makes him feel like he’s a teenager again, ready to blow just from making out because a pretty girl is giving him the time of day.

Except this is you and he’d be damned if he couldn’t hold back and not come in his pants like an inexperienced loser.

“I--” You try, breath stuttering out when you offer him a hazy smile. “Just one more.” 

Jimin nods, closing his eyes when he feels you lean into him again. Your foreheads are pressed together once more and you’re running your nose against his in a soft eskimo kiss that makes his hands twitch against where they’ve settled on your sides, just above your hips. 

Neither of you are doing anything, not really, and Jimin nearly feels overwhelmed by your close proximity. By the ghost of your lips against his, the way you play with his hair, twirling the strands around your fingers and running your nails along his scalp, and the way citrus and iris fill his nose and urge him to bury his face in your hair. 

His mouth twitches, a mischievous grin spreading across it when he murmurs, “One one thousand,” just before he shifts enough to claim your lips again. 

He swallows your giggle, enjoys the way you lean back, and wrap your arms around him so that he goes with you. His own arms wrap securely around your waist, skimming just beneath the hem of your sweater so his thumbs press against your bare back. 

When your breath hitches again, he takes advantage and swipes his tongue along your bottom lip before licking into your open mouth. He swallows the noise you make from that with another hungry kiss, an almost needy growl crawling out of his throat in reply. 

“Y/N,” he whispers, eyes still closed and his mouth still against yours. Your response is a kiss that sends a shiver of warmth down his spine when you nip at his lip as you pull away. “I--” He swallows to ground himself. “I want you.” 

You giggle, it’s warm and light and Jimin wants to capture it in a bottle so it can brighten his darkest days. “You have me Jimin.” 

And he does; he has you in his arms, in his lap, against his mouth. But that’s not what he means. 

Don’t you know that he wants more? 

“I mean, baby--” You giggle again, stealing a kiss. 

“Keep calling me that,” you whisper, and his mind blanks, clearing only when the sharpness of your teeth dragging down his throat brings him back to the present. 

“Baby,” he says again, voice strained as he tries to hold on to his thin grip of sanity. You keep sending him spiraling now that he’s got you and he doesn’t know how he’s going to form a decent, coherent thought long enough to tell you what he means. 

“I mean-- I want more, go out with me baby.”

Your body tenses, which makes his tense too. Why are you reacting like that? Why did you stop kissing him? 

What’s wrong with what he said? 

“Don’t make this more than what it can be Jimin.” Your voice is quiet and he has to strain to hear it over all the noise in the background. 

Still, what you say makes his stomach drop and his head spin with confusion.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Jimin doesn’t mean to swear but the question tumbles out of his mouth before he can think twice. 

“Jimin,” you say, too sharply-- like you’re tired of him, like he’s a child you have to reprimand or tell bad news. 

Why is there bad news? Why is his heart sinking into his stomach like it’s anticipating breaking if you open your mouth again?

“Y/N,” he replies, watching as your expression shifts and closes off. 

Things were going so good, how did he manage to trip over his (metaphorical) feet now? 

When you try to scoot back, to slip out of his lap, his grip on your waist tightens. He holds you in place, brow furrowing and lips twisting into a frown. “Hey,” he says quietly, sternly. “Where are you trying to go?” 

Jimin can’t help but feel like if he lets you off his lap right now, you’ll leave. He feels like he’ll never know why what he said seemed to ruin things because you’ll run away. 

He thinks he’ll do anything to get you to stay. 

You don’t say anything, your hands dropping from their place around his neck until your fingers are burying into the sand beside you and your body is leaning back, away from his. Anxiety claws at his chest, tries to wrap around his throat as he looks at you.

You’re so close physically, but so far away mentally…or is it emotionally? He doesn’t know. All he knows is you’re pulling away somehow and now that he’s had a taste of you, experienced what it might be like to almost have you, he’s desperate to keep you. 

“Baby,” he tries, not bothering to hide neediness from his voice. His fingers press more firmly into your hips and he leans forward, relieved when you don’t try to pull further away. “Talk to me, please.”

He watches your eyes widen, cheeks flushing slightly when he calls you baby, and some of the tension he’s holding feels like it loosens. Okay, he still has some sort of…positive effect on you, that’s good. It means he hasn’t completely stomped all over his chances. 

Yet. 

Jimin is even more relieved when you sigh and lean into him, resting your cheek against his collarbone while you look over at the waves crashing over each other and decide what to say. It’s easy for him to wrap his arms around the middle of your back now, cradling you against him. 

Like this, he can pretend like he’s just comforting you after a bad day instead of bracing himself, and maybe even you, for what feels like bad news. 

“I’m leaving at the end of the month,” you mumble into his shirt. Your hands have left their home in the sand to play with the hem of his shirt. The tips of your index finger brush against his bare skin, just over the top of his jeans, and dust little grains of sand against his flesh. 

If there weren’t more pressing things for him to be worried about, Jimin might’ve shivered from feeling your cold fingers against the warmth of his stomach. As it stands he can’t focus on anything but the words you just said.

I’m leaving at the end of the month. 

The sentence repeats in his head over and over again. Jimin doesn’t understand. What does it mean? 

“I don’t--” His voice cracks and he closes his mouth, swallows thickly then inhales deeply to settle himself. “I don’t understand.”

He hears you sigh, feels the warmth of you dragging away from him when your gaze meets his. “I got the internship I wanted.” You twist the bottom of his shirt around your fingers, desperate to fiddle with something. 

Jimin has to unwrap himself from your frame to place his hands over yours, stilling them because he’s already having enough trouble focusing without whatever you’re doing so close to his crotch. 

You freeze against him and he scrambles to reassure you that he’s fine, that he’s not stopping you because he doesn’t want you touching him. Instead, it’s the opposite, he never wants you to stop touching him. Even when it feels like his heart can’t sink any deeper into the sand with the weight of what you’re saying implies. 

To reassure you, he gathers your fingers into his hands and lifts them until he can press his lips against your knuckles. Hearing you exhale, he knows it was the right move. 

Maybe he isn’t as clumsy as he feels. 

“Okay,” he says slowly, thumb running over your skin as he thinks. “How long is the internship, baby? We can go out after you come back--” 

“I’m not coming back,” You interrupt, looking away again like you’re not willing to watch the way his expression falls at your words. 

“Okay,” Jimin tries again, inhaling shakily “Where’s the internship? If it’s not too far we can--” 

“Jimin.” His name falls out of your mouth like it hurts you to say it. Like it physically pains you to continue to shut him down. To cut off all of his suggestions before they’re fully formed. 

“I haven’t picked what company I’m going to work with,” he says, conversationally, keeping his voice steady. 

He hasn’t even gotten the chance to start a relationship with you, he can’t be losing this chance already. The two of you can figure something out, he’s sure--

“You’re not going to base your career, your future on me,” you interrupt his thoughts, words harsh enough to feel like a slap across his face. 

“Don’t I get to--” 

“Jimin, be serious.” 

“Y/N, I am--” 

Your scoff cuts him off and the fact that you’re laughing, even if it’s bitterly, at him when he’s trying to figure out a way to make sure the two of you have a chance makes him angry.

“Why are you laughing?” Jimin asks, voice hard and his jaw clenched so tightly together that it ticks. 

Your mouth clamps shut immediately in the wake of the darkness in Jimin’s eyes. “C’mon Jimin,” you say quietly, “Be reasonable. You don’t really know me well enough to make a life-changing decision like that.” 

His jaw ticks again, Jimin swallowing to force himself to think about how he wants to respond. He doesn’t understand why you’re acting like you’re complete strangers meeting up at a party and deciding your whole futures together. He’s known you throughout all of university and sure, you two aren’t close, not yet but he knows you. 

He’s been to nearly every protest and rally you’ve organized when his schedule allowed it. He’s seen how you interact with his friends. The way you draw everyone into your orbit and how impossible it is to look anywhere but at you. 

Hell, the only reason he stayed away from you until after graduation is because he knew that if he didn’t watch himself that he’d fall head over heels in love with you and not be able to focus on anything else. 

He couldn’t do that back then and you couldn’t either. But now? In this impossible stretch of possibilities that comes with the leaves changing color…you have nothing but opportunity. 

So why are you so adamant about shutting him down, crushing his hopes and desires for a future with you like crunching fallen leaves beneath the soles of a shoe? 

“Don’t I get to be the judge of that?” He asks, voice low with an edge of warning. 

Jimin’s let you slip slightly from his lap, your ass half on the sand and half on where his ankles are crossed. His grip’s shifted from holding your hands like they’re something precious to being wrapped around your wrists, clasped so tightly it has to be uncomfortable. 

“Well I don’t want to base my entire future around maybes,” You reply, your own voice sharp and wary. Your whole demeanor has shifted. You aren’t trying to get away, and Jimin’s thankful for that, but you’re starting to close yourself off from him as best you can. Your body’s ridged, spine straightened and shoulders hunched ever so slightly. 

What you say next feels like a slap. “I especially don’t want to base it on a boy.” 

His teeth grit against each other as his brows furrow together until he’s scowling. His grip on you tightens, nails pinching your skin enough to make you wince but not enough to make you pull completely away. So, he pulls you closer, lets go of one of your wrists to put his hand on the small of your back and hold it there, keeping you pressed against him. 

“I’m not just some boy, Y/N,” He growls, agitated by the notion that he’s a nobody. That he’s anything other than Park Jimin, coveted dancer who has his pick of companies to choose from already. Or that he’s insignificant to you when he knows that he’s not. 

He’s seen you at every single one of his performances. He knows that the bouquets of peach and orange roses left in his dressing rooms are always from you. He knows that any time you’re in a room together you look for him at least once. 

Sure, it was easy to get swept up in his insecurities earlier but in the face of losing you once he’s known what it’s like to have you even just to kiss-- Well, Jimin would be damned if he gave up without a fight. 

He thinks he can feel your pulse rate pick up from where his fingers are wrapped around your wrist and that he can hear the way your breath gets caught in your throat. 

“I could be your future, baby,” he coos, voice still thick and deep with lingering irritation. He inches closer, mouth hovering about yours like you’re not in the middle of a conversation. Like you aren’t arguing because there are so many things the two of you could be doing instead. 

“I know you better than you think,” he murmurs, letting his hand slide down enough to slip beneath your sweater before it creeps back to its former place on your now bareback. “So stop overthinking and just focus on me.” 

Your brow furrows, nose scrunching in a way that compels him to nip at the tip-- so he does. If he notices the way it turns your cheeks pink, he doesn’t say anything. He’ll take every little victory of you softening for him he can. 

“I’m not overthinking, I’m being practical Jimin. Starting a relationship when you don’t know who you’ll be performing with--” You cut off with a squeak, Jimin having pinched you before he covers your mouth with his in a searing kiss. 

He doesn’t bother to hold back, chasing you for kisses, with his teeth dragging across your bottom lip when he pulls back. “I thought,” he half snarls, voice scratchy with desire, “I told you to stop thinking so much.” 

You whimper but the look on your face makes him think that you might still argue and he presses his fingers against your spine so you remember that he’s here and he’s not letting you go anywhere. 

“Baby,” he tries, watching as you seem to melt at the pet name. “We’ll worry about the technicalities later okay? Just--” Jimin knows he’s sounding a bit desperate at this point but he wants you so badly he doesn’t care. “Let’s focus on what we can have. Right now. In this moment. No worrying about the future until after. Okay, baby?” 

Your eyes close, arms looping back around his shoulders and your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, and you nod. 

“Okay.” 

You sound a little wrecked and it sends heat straight to his groin. 

“Just. Not in here, not in the sand okay?” You tell him, a smile spreading across your lips after you steal a kiss. 

Jimin laughs, bright as the moon overhead as he shifts his grips to your thighs and manhandles you until your legs wrap around his waist so that when he stands he has a solid hold on you. 

It’s clear from the way your grip tightens that you hadn’t been expecting him to lift you so easily or how badly it affects you. 

“C’mon baby, let me take care of you,” he murmurs against your mouth before claiming one last kiss before he’s carrying you off to somewhere better suited for all the things he wants to do to you.

.

Having sex with you in the backseat of his car is not how Jimin pictured his first time with you to go, but considering he’s not sure he’ll get another chance…it’ll have to do. 

Carrying you over had been easy enough, setting you down when he needed to fish his keys out of his pockets is less so. He hadn’t let go of you though, keeping a hand firmly wrapped around your waist and his fingers pressed against your hip bone. 

Jimin may have convinced you to share this moment with him but he’s still worried that if he’s not touching you, you’ll leave. 

“Y/N?” He asks, the sound of the doors unlocking audible in the otherwise silence around them. “This okay?” 

He’s not entirely sure why he’s so nervous, you didn’t seem terribly put out when he’d hauled you over to the parking lot and his car is nice even if the back seat isn’t exactly big. It’s clean at least, something he prides himself on if he’s honest. It’s still not as nice as a bed or couch or really anything less public and with more space but you’ve got limited options.

And he doesn’t think that he can convince you to leave with him when he had to work so hard to keep this chance. 

Your hand is on the door handle when you look back at him, a soft smile adorning your lips before you reach out and caress his cheek. He’s almost ashamed of how quickly he leans into your palm, like it’s the touch he’s been craving his whole life, until you’re leaning in and pressing the softest, sweetest kiss against his mouth.

“I can practically hear you overthinking, focus on me instead,” You giggle, letting yourself fall into the car and scooting back until you hit the other door. 

Your hands are reaching for him and Jimin can’t do anything but stumble into both the car and your arms. 

It’s as awkward as he expects, his head bumping against the ceiling as he finds space between your legs and he’s groping around the ceiling to turn off the door lights. If you’re going to be getting frisky, he can’t have the light staying on! 

But you’re laughing, looking incredibly amused as you sit there, one leg hanging off the bench and your elbows propping you up. Your sweater’s slid down again and he can see the tantalizing line of your collarbone that he’s so possessed with the urge to bite that he does so without thinking, surging forward and nipping at your unblemished skin.

His teeth scrape against the flesh as he pulls himself back, resisting the urge to suck on the reddening skin until the expanse is littered with marks from his lips. Jimin doesn’t know if that’s something you’d like and while he wants to ask for permission he feels like he can’t.

It feels like this moment between the two of you is some stolen, hidden moment that other people aren’t allowed to know about and while that hurts, Jimin knows that he’ll take whatever he can from you. Especially if it means keeping you with him for even a second longer. 

Fingers sliding into his hair and tugging on the strands brings him back to focus, Jimin’s head lifting after he places a soothing kiss against the last spot he nipped at. 

“You’re thinking too much,” You tell him and he huffs out a laugh, grinning up at you with something like exasperation. “Stay with me, focus on me,” you mumble, using your grip to draw him forward and he sinks into the kiss like it’ll settle every doubt and ounce of uneasy within him. 

It feels almost surreal, to have you virtually parroting his words back at him, but it’s comforting all the same. 

Jimin has one chance to make the most of things and he’s going to do just that. 

So, he adjusts the way he fits between your legs and focuses on kissing you back. It’s lazy, languid like you have all the time in the world while Jimin knows that the clock is ticking down he can’t help but want to take his time with you. 

It’s easy to slip a hand between your bodies as you kiss, Jimin’s fingers running along the waistband of your leggings while he gives you warm open mouth kiss after kiss. He has to scoot forward slightly, pushing your leg further off the bench, and brace a hand against the door of the car by your head to keep himself steady as he slips his hand inside the layers of fabric until he can run his middle finger along your folds. 

He can’t help but groan into your mouth when he feels how wet you are, his head swimming a bit when he thinks too long about how it’s all because of him. That makes it easy for you to slide your tongue against his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to draw him closer in the cramped space of his backseat, as you deepen the kiss. His hand slips from the action, forcing him clumsily closer. 

Jimin wishes there was more space, but then again he just wishes for more when it comes to you in general. 

You don’t seem bothered by the lack of room, even if it can’t be the most comfortable position you’ve been in and that helps to settle his worries. Of course, it helps that you’ve shifted a leg, ankle hooking behind his thigh, and that opens you up for him more. 

Jimin teases your folds, slicking up his fingers before he’s dropping them lower and pressing two inside with more ease than he’s prepared for. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, having to pull away from your kisses so he can hide his face in the crook of your neck in an attempt to calm down. 

It’s almost embarrassing how wound up he is, how he feels like he might explode just from putting his fingers in you. The two of you have barely done anything and yet-- 

Jimin can’t remember a time where he was more turned on or invested as he is now. 

“Jiminie?”

“Shit,” he curses, pulling back so he can look at you. “Sorry, baby, I just-- there’s so much I want to do with you.” 

And it’s true, there’s nothing he wants more in that moment than to peel your leggings off and plant his face between your thighs and go to town until you’re coming for him. It’s not the time or the place for that, to his frustration, so he has to make do with fingering you open instead. 

The way your head tips back when he works his fingers in and out, spreading them to help stretch you open and prepare for his cock, has him swallowing hard. He doesn’t bother to resist the urge to surge forward and run his tongue along the line of your neck, the pretty unblemished expanse of skin that he wants to litter with bruises until it’s hard to discern what color your skin should be. 

“You’re so pretty,” he finds himself mumbling, absolutely fixated on how you look before him. Wisps of hair are clinging to your face, plastered by the sweat that’s starting to form as things heat up between you. Your lips are absolutely swollen from his kisses and the bites you’ve been exchanging every time they meet his. 

“So are you,” you mumble, letting your hands drift downward until they can push up the hem of his t-shirt. Your palms are warm against his skin, making Jimin take a shuddering breath as his stomach clenches in response. “Wanna see more.” 

That’s all you need to say for him to pull back and peel off his shirt. 

Seeing the way your expression darkens brings a cocky smirk to his face. Jimin knows he’s attractive and he knows that his body is nice too. He works hard to make sure his abs are defined and he knows that it’s absolutely worth it with the way you let your touch roam over them. 

“Fuck,” you huff and it makes Jimin laugh when he stretches over you, claiming your mouth while you busy yourself with undoing his belt and pants. 

Resting back on his calves slightly, he slips his hands beneath your sweater and slowly pushes it upward as the two of you make out until you have to pull apart so he can tug it over your head. Once that’s taken care of, he’s hooking his fingers into the side of your bottoms, trying to peel them off as smoothly as possible.

Unfortunately for both of you, it’s not nearly as sexy as Jimin wants it to be. 

In fact, it’s a mess that ends with you nearly kicking him in the face while the two of you move around trying to figure out how the hell to finish undressing you when there’s not enough space for him to scoot back or for you to sit up fully until you’re swinging your leg over his head and he’s ducking. 

The whole thing has both of you laughing, the sound music to his ears before you’re settling back into place and he’s rubbing your bare thighs with warm hands. 

Fortunately, the fiasco hasn’t seemed to kill the mood and if anything, knowing that he can be clumsy and make a fool out of himself when he’s trying to be suave and smooth and still have you looking up at him like he might as well be the moon in the sky only serves to make him want you more. 

Jimin only stops looking at you so he can fish out the condom from his wallet and slide it onto his length. 

When he looks up, you’ve shifted again and are propping yourself up with an arm slung across the the back of the seat. You look beautiful and he can’t help the way his gaze roams across your naked form slowly. He has to take his time because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the chance to appreciate you even if it’s harder to see you in the dim moonlight than he’d like .

He spends so long admiring you that your skin’s flushed. Fuck, it’s unfair how that simply endears him more to you than before. 

“Gorgeous,” Jimin breathes to reassure you as his hands slide along the skin of your thighs before he claims your lips in a searing kiss. He likes the way you respond, how you wrap yourself around him so that he sticks to you more than he has to in the cramped space. 

From there, it’s easy to line himself up against your folds. He takes his time, as he’s been doing all night, to roll his hips back and forth so he can slick up his cock with your arousal and give it a few pumps just for good measure. His actions have you squirming beneath him, the leg that’s wrapped itself around his hip pulling him closer.

You’re impatient and Jimin likes you like this. 

He likes it better when you let out a little whine, when the hand pressed against his shoulder blade turns into a claw and your nails dig into his back. It earns you a hiss and buck of his hips which makes you smile against his mouth. 

“You gonna tease me all night Chim?” 

That makes him laugh in that short, breathless huff sort of way when he shifts to nuzzle his nose against yours. 

“Course not baby, I’m just savoring the moment,” he tells you before he’s pushing forward and the head of cock finally presses inside. His hips stutter, Jimin finding it difficult to concentrate when you’re gripping him so tightly. When you’re so much warmer than he imagined. 

His palm plants itself against his window to steady himself as he grabs your hip first, then slides to hold you by your ass and pull you towards him. With how eager you both are, it’s not long before your hips are flush against his and he’s savoring the way it feels to be inside you. 

It’s a tight fit, your warm walls pulsing around him as he focuses a little too hard on not coming from the sheer joy of getting to have you like this. His forehead is pressed against your sternum, breath fanning across your skin before you’re sliding a hand down his back and hooking fingers into his belt loops to tug him forward trying to make him move. 

“W-wait,” he pants, reaching to catch your hand and pull it away. “Need a second.” 

It’s cute how you wrinkle your nose at him and pout. It’s less cute how every part of him feels strung up, like he’s going to explode too quickly, like he’s a teenager again and this is the first time he’s gotten to put his dick in someone. 

But, he’s determined to make this good so he sucks in a breath and pulls his hip back slowly, hissing out the air as your cunt clings to him. It’s not helping that you’re letting out little mewls as his cock drags against your walls. Like your laughter, it’s music to his ears and it’s a melody that he wants to choreograph a dance to. Something you can do together, tangled in limbs and sheets on a bed made of silk. 

Shaking his head, Jimin pushes his fantasy away. You’re with him, here in the present, and that’s better than anything he could imagine. 

And your naked breasts are right in his eyeline when he draws back begging for attention. Who is he to resist when the rest of you has been so tantalizing and inviting? 

Nuzzling his face between your tits, Jimin shifts. He presses little kisses to the swell of one of them until he gets to a nipple. His tongue laves over the pebbled bud earning a nice breathy sigh from you that has Jimin groaning against your soft flesh. 

Even better is the way your hand slides into his hair, fingers tangling around his locks and tugging when he closes plush lips to suck. The combination sends heat straight to his dick, making his hips stutter as he fucks into you. It helps that your hips are rolling too, the effect of his mouth on your breast going straight to your cunt and has it clenching around him more tightly every time he pulls back. 

His mouth is wet, kissing across your chest sloppily to attend to your neglected tit. On the way there, he takes a moment to bite at your flesh, sucking a little mark into your skin. It’ll fade and no one else will see it but for some reason, it’s important to Jimin. 

A physical reminder of your fleeting entanglement perhaps. 

You tugging on his hair brings him back to focus, mouth opening to allow his tongue to circle your other nipple. His gaze flicks upward, watching the way your head tips back and your eyes squeeze shut when he drags his teeth together against your flesh until he’s biting gently. You tighten around him as he applies a little more pressure to your pebbled bud and he smirks.

“Feeling good baby?” He asks, pulling off your breast with a pop. 

You’re a little too fucked out to answer properly, blinking blearily at him before managing to nod. Endearment flutters in Jimin’s chest when he surges upward to claim your lips with a needy kiss. It’s easy to get lost in the taste and feel of you. Easy enough to help push past the discomfort of the cramped backseat, how he can’t really touch you in all the ways he wants to because he’s too busy keeping himself propped up enough so he can actually fuck you. 

Shifting to better support his weight with the hand on the door, Jimin slips his other hand beneath you to lift your hips up a little bit. This position allows him to thrust in and out without having to support himself on his knees too much. You respond by sitting up, wrapping arms around him as you kiss him more hungrily, an edge of desperation to the way you lick into his mouth and bite at his lips that makes him think you’re close. 

Which is great. Jimin prides himself on his stamina but when it comes to you holding back is nearly impossible. It’s a straight miracle that he hasn’t come already and he knows that making sure you come first is going to be a struggle.

But, Jimin is nothing if not an overachiever. 

Fortunately, the adjustment to both of your positions allows him to sink a little deeper and hit the spot that makes you gasp into his mouth like you’ve forgotten to breathe.

Fuck. 

His fingers dig into the squishy flesh of your ass when he drags his arm back, skimming against the softness of your belly until his hand is slipping between your bodies. Two fingers press against your clit, Jimin groaning into your mouth because everything is slicker than he realized. It’d been one thing to feel it on his dick than to slide his fingers through it. 

“F-fuck,” you gasp, hips bucking up when he had starts to rub slow circles against your clit. The pressure is soft, feels like it’s barely there at first when Jimin pulls away from your mouth to rest his forehead against your collarbone. Each inhale is shaky as are his thrusts because he’s lost in you. 

“Jiminie,” you whine, squirming beneath him because you need more. You’re so close and he’s teasing you. “Please.” Your voice breaks like the skin on his back as your nails dig into his flesh. “I want to-- Stop teasing, let me come!” 

His teeth bite your collarbone, tongue darting out after to lave at the skin when he presses against your clit more harshly. It’s the perfect amount of force and has you matching his thrusts so you can chase your building orgasm. 

“Sorry, baby,” Jimin huffs, busying himself with kissing your neck. If he focuses on anything in particular, like how warm your cunt it or how it squeezes him more and more with every thrust, he’ll unravel and you have to get there first. “Come for me, gorgeous.” 

It takes only a few more swipes of his fingers and Jimin nibbling on your neck to push you over the edge, to have you coming around his cock. He thinks he nearly blacks out from how good it feels to have your pussy convulsing around him, to feel your own sloppy kisses on his neck or the way your nails drag down his back and your hands grope his ass to encourage him to keep going. 

His own orgasm feels like it pales in comparison but it’s perfect regardless because he’s coming for you. Each rock of his hips is stuttered, his supporting arm slipping so he falls forward and presses his weight into you. Jimin can’t really think even though he keeps moving until there’s nothing left in him to spill into the condom. 

You don’t seem to mind the way he’s pressed against you, his chest against yours, even pulling him closer so it feels like there’s no possible space between you. 

He’s lightheaded in the aftermath of your orgasms but sensible enough to know that he has to pull away from you sooner rather than later. He would rather do anything but separate himself, but the condom isn’t exactly comfortable and neither is how he has to hunch to make sure both of you fit. 

“You’re incredible,” he mumbles when he kisses your temple, hands sliding down your body. Your curves feel amazing beneath his hands and he can’t help but squeeze the meaty part of your thighs before he’s coaxing your legs from around his hips. 

“Wait.” 

Jimin freezes, looking up at your face with a furrowed brow. “What’s wrong baby?” 

“I want to cuddle a little,” you tell him and he wants to kiss the pout off your face. Instead he kisses the tip of your nose. It makes you scowl at him and that makes him laugh which has you laughing too. 

“Okay, but let me take care of this,” he replies, gesturing to his dick and the condom. Your arms cross over your chest when you huff out an agreement and he thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

It even gives him hope that maybe this doesn’t have to end once he’s tied off the condom and tucked himself back into his pants. 

Jimin knows that he’s getting his own hopes up, but he doesn’t know how not to when he pulls your naked form into his lap. His arms wrap around your middle, chin resting on your shoulder so he can nuzzle into your neck, and your legs are splayed over his. You’re not as close like this as you were before but he likes this better.

It feels like, your nakedness aside, something the two of you would do when you’re just enjoying the other’s company. Like something he could have if he could only convince you to give the two of you a chance. 

Jimin knows it’s foolish to let his heart wish for this reality, but he’s never been good at giving up. Especially not when it comes to you and he’s going to enjoy what little he can get in hopes that he won’t be as crushed when it inevitably ends. 

.

Being with you was euphoric. 

Watching you in the post-coitus haze as you pull your panties and leggings back on, straighten your clothes, and fix your hair feels devastating. It had taken him seconds to straighten out, considering his jeans had only been shoved down and not peeled off of him like he’d done to most of your clothing, and everything is starting to settle in now that he’s just sitting there, waiting.

Jimin finds that while looking at you right now hurts, he doesn’t know how to look away. So, he keeps watching you from the corner of his eye, unable to really look at you because the unspoken weight of everything is settling over him and it feels like it might suffocate him if he focuses on it for too long.

He doesn’t know what to do. Or what to say.

It was easier to think of what to tell you earlier when things didn’t feel so much like an ending. Here in the darkness, sitting in his too cramped back seat unable to see your expression clearly…Jimin feels lost, uncertain, and insecure all over again. 

“You can stop staring now,” You said, voice shattering the silence and any hopes Jimin has of holding onto this moment between the two of you. 

His mouth opens, then closes more than a few times before he rakes his hand through his slightly damp-with-sweat locks and sighs. 

“Sorry.” The word comes out strangled like it would have rather stayed lodged in his throat. “I just--” He pauses, slides his tongue along his cheek and teeth as he tries to decide what he wants to say.

You’re quiet, giving him the space to work through whatever conflicts are swirling in his head. 

Jimin realizes that while he can’t stop looking at you, you don’t seem to be able to look at him in return. Instead, your gaze is turned towards the window where he assumes you’re watching the dwindling party continue on. He doesn’t know what to make of this realization. 

“Does this have to be it?” He asks, proud when the fear doesn’t bleed into his voice even if it’s a tight constraint around his heart and lungs. 

“Jimin.” 

He hates when you say his name like that, like doing so is breaking your heart instead of his. Like it’s taking everything in you to keep your voice steady. And it doesn’t help that he can see the way your hands shake as you twist them over each other until they still, one thumb picking at the nail bed of the other. 

Resisting the impulse to reach over and gather your hands into his so he can soothe the tremor is harder than he expects. 

His backseat is tiny, with three seat belts even if only two people can reasonably fit, and yet it nearly feels like there’s an ocean’s worth of space between the two of you instead of the inches he could easily close if he let himself.

But Jimin doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing. He only knows that he doesn’t want it to be over. 

You can’t have an ending when you’ve barely had a beginning. If he had known that waiting until university was over would mean that he would possibly lose you forever, then he would have never waited. 

It wouldn’t have mattered that pursuing you would be distracting, that he likely would have ended up so entirely wrapped up in you and everything you stood for, and that it could have cost him the future he worked so hard for.

Because that future doesn’t look as bright and shiny now that he’s faced with the reality of you not being a part of it. 

“I just--” He sighs again, sagging back with his chin tipping up so he’s staring at the car’s ceiling. “I want more. This isn’t how I thought tonight would go.” 

His eyes close because he’s letting his disappointment settle over him like a heavy, weighted blanket, but he can hear the way you shift. He thinks you might be looking at him now and as much as he wants to know, he can't bring himself to open his eyes to look back. 

He needs a second, bracing himself for the way whatever you’re going to say is inevitably going to destroy him. 

“Me neither,” You admit and he hears how heavy your sigh is. Then, to his surprise, he feels the warmth of your palm sliding over the back of his hand. 

His head snaps down, dark eyes blinking several times as he looks at your single point of contact. With a shaky inhale he shifts, slipping his fingers between yours because now that you’re touching him-- a touch you instigated no less --it feels like it’s the only thing that’s keeping him anchored.

How do you do that? How do you knock him so off-kilter and practically shatter his world only to be the one thing that grounds and calms him so easily? 

Knowing that you’re leaving, that he can’t have you in any capacity more than tonight, this one fleeting moment that’s never going to leave him, makes him want to scream. 

“I haven’t picked a company,” he tells you. 

The sigh you give warns him of the retort you’re presumably going to give so he keeps talking. If he’s rambling, he doesn’t care. He’ll prolong this uncomfortable moment as long as possible if it means keeping you from leaving his car and by extension him. 

“Tell me where you’re going.” Jimin wishes he had it in him to be ashamed of how his voice breaks, how he’s begging. “Please, baby.” 

Your hand squeezes his at the endearment and it brings a sad smile to his face. 

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice is quiet and when he looks over at you he can see the way you’ve brought your knees up towards your chest with your empty hand wrapped around them. Your back rests against the door and you’re looking at him with your lip between your teeth, worrying it with what he thinks is anxiety. “Why do you have to make this complicated?” 

“I’m not--”

“C’mon Jimin, of course, you are. You keep talking like things could be different but they can’t,” You interrupt. 

When you yank your hand away and fumble with the handle behind you he nearly crawls over you to yank the door shut but he’s not quick enough. Instead, you’re toppling backwards out of the vehicle and away from him. 

It stings, how quickly you want to run away from him when just minutes before you couldn't get close enough to him. 

Still, he scrambles after you clumsily climbing out of his car and reaching for you to pull you into his arms before you can get too far away. 

“Wait-- please, just--” He grits his teeth, and pulls on the sleeve he’s managed to grab hoping that you’ll let yourself fall into him again. If he can just keep you here, in this moment even as you’re arguing, then maybe he can change things. 

He doesn’t know how to give up on the things that he wants and Jimin doesn’t think that he’s wanted anything as much as he wants you. 

To his relief, you stop. 

You even take a step back and half turn towards him, your expression shadowed by the way the moonlight drapes across you. Jimin still thinks that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, even with your brow furrowed and your lips pursed into a frown. 

His feet fumble forward, nearly sending him hurtling towards the ground before he manages to catch himself and spring up before you. His grip on your sleeve pulls you slightly off-balance too and he takes advantage of that to slip that hand into yours and to use his other one to grab your hip to steady both of you.

Jimin thinks that your hand fits perfectly in his even though your fingers are longer than his because he likes the way it feels when the tips brush his wrist before you curl them upward. 

“I don’t understand,” he admits, letting his gaze drop to the pavement beneath his feet. “I-- You want me too, don’t you?” 

He wants to wince at how insecure he sounds, wants to wince at how desperate he feels. 

“It’s not that simple Jim--” 

“Why not?” He asks, head snapping up when he inches closer. “Can’t it be simple? We can make it simple.” 

You run your free hand over your face, fingers curling inward as you drag them over your jawline and pull at your bottom lip. 

You look utterly exhausted, tired of him and his questions and Jimin wishes it didn’t make his chest hurt as much as it does. 

“It’s not-- I just.” Another sigh spills from your open mouth. “I can’t afford the distraction.” 

His face contorts in confusion which shifts to frustration almost immediately. “What the hell does that mean?”

He can see that you have a reply waiting but he’s got more to say. “We’ve been waiting years for each other and don’t tell me that’s not true. I know you were at my performances, that you looked for me anytime there were parties thrown by mutual friends. Baby, I might have chosen not to act on my feelings but they’ve always been here.” 

Releasing your hand he reaches for your cheeks, cradling them between both of his hands. 

“I knew how easily you could become everything to me,” he tells you. “I want you to be everything to me. You can be now.” 

Jimin watches as your eyes close, how you seem to grimace when you swallow and let his words digest. 

Carefully you reach up, grasp his wrists and tug his hands down. Then, you hold them between your bodies, your whole body shuddering with the weight of your sigh. 

“I don’t-- I don’t want that Jimin,” You tell him softly. 

His eyes search your face like it’ll make him understand. When he doesn’t respond you keep talking. 

“That’s not a life we should be living Chim.” The diminutive version of his name makes his heart clench. It gives him hope he knows he shouldn’t hold on to but like everything else when it comes to you, he can’t help it. “Being-- Heh, being someone’s everything is a lot of pressure.” 

His gaze drops to your mouth, watching as you chew on your lip like you’re chewing on your words. “Baby--” 

“That’s not going to work Chim,” You interject, edges of your mouth twitching upward in an almost smile. “Calling me baby…I like it, a lot, but it’s not going to change how I feel about this.”  

He flounders like a fish gasping for water, mouth opening and closing repetitively because he can’t figure out how to respond. 

(Un)Fortunately, you do. “Look, I do like you. A lot.” His traitorous heart upticks at this. “But there’s no way for us to have the relationship you think we could in your head.” 

“You’re not even giving us a chance,” Jimin whines, wincing when he realizes he’s coming off childishly. The only reason it’s not coming off like a total tantrum is because he’s not stomping his feet or squirming around like you’re being unreasonable.

Even if he thinks you are being unreasonable. 

“For good reason!” You insist, cheeks puffing as you huff at him. “Getting involved now is only going to be a mess for both of us. There’s not enough time to really date before I leave, you have your showcase you still have to perform for, and be honest Jimin, do you have time to do anything while you’re preparing for that?” 

“I could! It’s not like I need to do the showcase--”

“Okay, but do you think I’d want that?” You’re shaking your head at him and he knows that he’s being ridiculous, and irrational because dancing has been his entire life and while he has his pick of companies so far, the showcase could really put him on the map for all the places he hasn’t gotten offers from. 

“I bet there are perfectly good dance companies I could perform with wherever you’re going,” he protests, flapping his hands uselessly between you because of your grip on his wrist. 

The look you give him makes his stomach turn so he pointedly ignores it. “You don’t even know where I’m going.” 

“Because you won’t tell me!” This time, Jimin stomps his foot on the pavement. It’s getting too hard to contain how frustrated he is. 

“I’m trying here and you just keep shooting me down.” He huffs, blowing up at the loose curl of hair that’s shaken free and fallen into his eyes. “Why can’t you meet me halfway? Why are you being so difficult?” 

This time when you let go of him and step back, he doesn’t chase you. 

It’s not like he can beg much harder, unless he dropped to his knees for you, and while he isn’t above doing that…He doesn’t think it’ll make a difference so he doesn’t. 

“You’re the one being difficult, Jimin.” He doesn’t bother to hide the way he winces when you go back to calling him by his full name. “You’re so willing to throw everything you’ve worked for down the drain for me that you’re not even listening to me.” 

You turn your back to him, one hand cocked on your hip and the other in the air, heel of your palm pressing against your forehead in exasperation. “You haven’t even asked me what I want. You just keep assuming things.”

Jimin recoils, blinking several times as he processes what you said. “I have been listening, you said you liked me--”

“Because I do,” You interrupt, glancing between the triangular space your posture has created over your shoulder, “but I’m not willing to hinge everything I’ve worked for on a relationship that doesn’t even exist.” 

“Yet.” 

The word spills from his mouth immediately, an instinctive response because he’s clinging so hard to the possibilities that he thought he’d get to see with you as the leaves changed color and they welcomed the brisk newness of change that came with fall. 

“I’m going to be in a new city, facing challenges I’ve never faced before against all these people who are probably more qualified than I am--” You start rambling, arm falling to gesture at him when you spin on your heel. You aren’t looking at him, too busy focusing on the way your hands circle over each other in the air while you’re talking like it’ll help explain what’s going on in your head.

Jimin’s never seen you do that before, usually you’re so calm and collected when you speak. Like you’ve measured every word in your head before it ever leaves your lips. 

But he’s starting to realize that there’s a lot of things that you’ve done in front of him that he hasn’t seen you do around someone else. 

He wears his heart on his sleeve, emotions exploding out of him when what he feels becomes too much and he’s desperate to grasp the things he wants tightly in the palm of his hand. You, however, keep your emotions close to your chest, a habit he assumed had everything to do with your chosen career field, and yet, he’s seeing more than he used to. 

It makes him want you more. He aches to see all the facets of you that others haven’t had the privilege to see even if it’s you yelling at him because he’s so stubborn and he doesn’t know when to stop. Jimin wants the chance to get to know you in all the ways he’s been dreaming about. 

He just needs a shot. Why can’t you give it to him? 

“I can wait,” he says. His voice is quiet and his whole being seems more subdued as he starts to lose himself in his thoughts. “If you need time to get settled, I can wait and come after.” 

Jimin runs his hand through his hair, picks at his thumbnail, and drops his gaze to the ground before your feet.

“You’re still not listening. I don’t want that.” He can see that you’ve changed how you’re standing and that your arms are spread out, shoulders slumped with emotional exhaustion. He doesn’t know if he has the strength to look at you as you reject him again. 

He tries, peers up from beneath the fallen hair of his fringe. Maybe it’ll hurt less this time. 

“I don’t want you waiting around for a day that may never come. I don’t want you hinging everything on me.” Your voice is strained, a little choked like you’re trying not to cry. 

He doesn’t want you to cry, but he does take some solace in knowing that this might be tearing you up inside like it’s shredding him. 

“I don’t half-ass things, Jimin. I’m not going to get into a relationship that I can’t give my attention to.” Your head shakes and you’re swiping at your cheeks. 

It takes everything he has to stay rooted to the spot, to keep from lurching forward and gathering you into his arms to comfort you. 

“And I don’t want to end up in a situation where you resent me and there’s no way that won’t happen. You won’t be picking the best company for you or going where you want to go.” The sound of you sniffling snaps his head up and Jiimn finds that even though looking at you hurts he can’t look away. 

You wanted him to listen. So, he’s listening, keeping every comment he’d like to say to himself. 

But you’ve stopped talking because it’s getting harder and harder for you to hold back your tears. Even when you’ve tipped your head back to keep them from slipping down your cheeks they escape anyway, streaking down towards your ears. 

The silence is suffocating, broken only by the hics of breath as you try to regain your composure, the laughter of party goers and what he thinks is Jin’s voice crooning. 

“There are too many variables, too many ways this can go wrong because of everything we’ve got going on,” You say. “I’m going to be navigating a whole new life with this internship and I doubt we’d be able to navigate a new relationship on top of all the other stressors we’re about to face.” 

You’re looking at him again, eyes puffy from rubbing at them but he still finds you breath-taking. 

Jimin aches to kiss the tear-streaks on your face, to press his lips against your irritated skin to soothe it, and to hold you until you believe him when he says the two of you could make it work. 

As it is, his hands twitch at his side before half reaching for you. He second guesses his choices and they fall back against his side. 

“Don’t we owe it to each other to try?” He asks. 

“Chim.” His heart skips and this time he steps forward. “I can’t, please. You’re making this so difficult.” 

He can’t help but think that it’s you who’s making things difficult. It’s so obvious to him that you’re both aching for each other but you’re too afraid to take a leap of faith. To give into the idea that maybe, just maybe, you can have it all. 

You wouldn’t have cried if your heart wasn’t also hurting for the future you’re so against letting them have. You keep your emotions close to your chest and being vulnerable like this, with him… 

It has to mean something. Doesn’t it? 

“Baby, just give us a--”

“I can’t do this anymore,” you cut him off, taking several steps backward before you’re spinning and practically scrambling to get away from. 

He tries not to think about how you’re taking his heart with you as the rest of his words die on his tongue.

.

Jimin’s gaze never leaves you even as you walk away and his heart sinks like your feet in the sand. He watches until you’re just far enough away that he can’t really distinguish your silhouette from the people around you. 

He can’t decide if it hurts more, or less, to watch as you meld into the crowd and disappear from view. 

Ultimately, he thinks it hurts most knowing that you were capable of walking away from him like you did. 

Dejected, he debates leaving. Debates getting into his car and driving away like that’ll allow him to pick up the shattered pieces of his heart you’ve left in the wake of your departure.

But then he remembers that imprints of you are pressed all over the backseat of his vehicle, how it probably still smells like sex because he didn’t think to crack any windows until now, and how pathetic it’ll look if you return and he leaves. 

Besides, there’s people who probably want to talk to him, who he can greet now because his…business…is done with you. 

Thinking of your time together like that makes him sick and he’s almost desperate for some sort of distraction.

Fortunately, it comes in the form of tall, broad shouldered, and handsome. 

Jimin hears something high pitched and squeaky behind him, like windshield wipers that need to be replaced, before he recognizes the voice it falls into. 

“Jimin?” 

He turns, offering a weak smile to the taller man who’s still holding the neck of the guitar he whipped out when he declared he would serenade you. “Hey Jin.” 

Jimin winces slightly, aware that he’s doing a poor job at hiding the aching he feels from his voice. Still, he tries for some humor if only to stave of the inevitable questioning. “Finished wooing everyone already?” 

“Well,” the older man starts, giving Jimin a knowing look that makes him want to shrink into himself. “I seem to recall that my woo-ee hurried off looking for you right after I started singing.” 

Jin failed to admit that the ‘love song’ he began to play had in fact been Oasis’s Wonderwall and that had been a large reason you had chosen to go looking for Jiimn. 

“Heh,” Jimin exhales, sound caught somewhere between a sigh and forced laugh. He feels exhausted, drained, and he’d like nothing more than to drown his sorrows in something. His gaze drops to the cup in Jin’s hand and he runs his tongue over his front teeth between closed lips before deciding he wants it.

“Are you-- Can I have that?” He gestures at the cup, holding his arm out hopefully. Jin scrutinizes him for a minute before shrugging and handing it over. 

Jimin downs it in what seems like a single swallow, not even wincing as the alcohol burns at the back of his throat, before the cup is crushed between his fingers. 

Despite knowing that Jimin is capable of drinking alcohol like it’s water, the act seems to leave Jin slightly unsettled.

He takes a minute to observe the way the shorter boy holds himself, takes in the way he’s holding tension in his shoulders, how his head hangs slightly, and how his legs are spread more than usual as he stands, like he needs the extra support. 

“I take it things didn’t go so well?” 

Jimin’s nose wrinkles when he decides that he’s going to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

There’s that high pitched squeaky laugh that bursts out of the broad shouldered man that nearly makes Jimin want to recoil. He doesn’t think there’s anything funny about the situation, but he can’t really tell Jin to stop laughing without admitting that there’s a situation to laugh about. 

“You’re not fooling anyone Jimin,” Jin tells him, striding over to place a hand on his shoulder. His grip is comforting, surprisingly. “It’s obvious how head over heels you are for Y/N.” 

His nose wrinkles again, full lips pursing into a pout instead of opening to speak. 

“I was hoping that pretending to confess my feelings for her through song would have motivated you to do something instead of letting things pass you by but…” Jin shakes his head. “You’re here and she’s not. So what happened?” 

Puffing out his cheeks, Jimin blows out a slow breath, caving to Jin’s insistence because really, he wants to talk to someone and out of all the people he could talk to…

You and Jin are the closest, so he’d have the best insight. Plus he’s older so maybe he’d have good advice on navigating a relationship with you-- if he could convince you to give it a shot. 

“I--” Heaving a heavy sigh, Jimin shuffles forward until he can sit down on the curb because he’s so tired. “Things were going really well.” His mouth quirks up in a smile for a fraction of a second before falling. 

He busies himself playing with the rim of the crushed cup in his hands. 

“She came and found me after you started playing your guitar, had me sit with her and we just-- talked.” He can’t keep the wistfulness from his voice. “It was incredible. And then she was blushing and,” he shakes his head, the memory warming him even if the air’s grown chilly as they’ve slipped further into the night. 

“We kissed, I finally acted on my feelings but then,” he gestures at the air emptily. “She rejected me.” 

Jin hums before he settles into the space beside Jimin, knees knocking together before his arm slings around his shoulders in a comforting gesture. “Did she tell you why?”

The red solo cup slips from his fingers and clatters to the pavement with a hollow sound. 

He doesn’t bother to pick it up, instead lets it rock back and forth whenever the breeze floats by until it knocks against his heel. He lifts his foot up to crush it further, letting out a choked laugh because it makes him think about how you stomped all over his heart. 

“She doesn’t think I’m worth the trouble.” 

Jimin knows that he sounds bitter, angry, hurt but what’s the point in hiding it? No one is here to see it that matters. 

“What?” Jin asks, confused. 

Inhaling, he tries to explain. “She said that she couldn’t have her career and me, whatever that means. That she couldn’t give me or the relationship enough attention or that I’m going to resent her because I want to make the choice to follow her. Like-- we can only half-ass a relationship because of everything going on.”

“Jimin, you’ve never half-assed anything in your entire life,” Jin says, his bright and obnoxious laugh ringing out like it’s absurd that Jimin could even think that he was capable of not giving everything he was into a relationship. “You’re not going to half-ass this if it’s what you want.” 

The older man’s smile slips when he realizes that Jimin is peering up at him in confusion. 

“C’mon. Both of you are acting like idiots,” he says, utterly deadpan. Standing up he offers his hand to Jimin, hoisting him up with ease. With his arms crossing over his broad chest, Jin looks incredibly disappointed. “You’re dancing around each other and what you want. You want to be with her right? You see a future together?” 

Jimin’s quiet, dropping his gaze as he brings his hands together in front of him, toying with the ring on his thumb. 

“I do. Maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything else before.” 

Jin’s hand smacks against Jimin’s back, forcing the shorter man to stumble forward. 

“Then quit overthinking it,” Jin advises, “go get your girl.” 

He stares at the older man for a long moment, brows furrowed. Jin makes it sound so easy, so simple but it can’t be…right? Jimin’s mouth opens to ask a question, only to register that his companion is already walking away and back towards the party. 

Looking around, his gaze settles on the table not too far from the fire that has all of the food and drinks. His eyes lock on to the half-empty case of beer that’s been torn open and he weighs his options. 

He’s only had like half of two drinks, one from Jin and the other abandoned in the sand by the water’s edge because there were more pressing things to drink in, another beer or two wouldn’t be the worst thing. 

Maybe it’ll give him the courage he needs to go after you one more time. 

With his mind settled, he crosses the sand to get himself a drink. (Or two.)

.

Jimin watches you for a minute, a half-drunk beer bottle hanging from his hand and held only by the grip of his middle finger and thumb around its neck. His cheeks are flushed from the heat of the fire, the alcohol in his veins, and the way the beat of his heart upticks when he looks at you. 

In the dim lighting, silhouetted by the way the bonfire’s light reflects off the dark waves crashing into the shoreline at your feet, you look absolutely ethereal. 

He wonders if he’ll ever stop being awestruck by how beautiful you are. 

The sand crunches beneath his feet and you turn, your face lighting up when you see him and it knocks the air right out of his lungs. His whole body sways from impact, though that could just be the buzz, bottle slipping from his grip and crashing into the sand. 

Jimin pays it no mind, too busy running across the sand until he’s coming to stand before you with his own, stupidly large, grin stretched across his face. 

Standing before you, Jimin knows that it doesn’t matter that the conversation before had been left unfinished, unresolved. You want him and he wants you, the rest will fall into place as long as that remains true. 

University might be behind you now, but you're both still so terribly young and here in the haze of the beginning of fall he thinks that anything is possible. 

So, he steps forward and puts himself next to you with your shoulders pressing together once you turn to face the water once more. The fire is dying, but even with the distance, it’s warm against his back.

Jimin’s hand twitches at his side, pinkie stretching to touch yours and hook them together so he can pull your hand closer to his. He can hear your breath hitch, hiccup, when he shifts his hand so that his palm slides against yours and presses his fingers through the spaces of yours. The weight of your hand in his feels right and reassures him that the decision his beer-fogged brain wants to make is the correct one. 

“I’m all in,” he whispers, leaning closer so that his head is inclined towards yours. “Whatever we’ve got to do to make it work, I’ll do it.” 

Jimin swallows, eyes trained on your face to take in the way your expression shifts. He watches as your lips work over each other, pursing then pressing together before settling into a frown. 

He’s saying the same thing he’s argued so many times already tonight but he means it and it’s so important to him that you understand. This is his last attempt at convincing you to give him a shot.

“Look, baby, I know you don’t think it’s worth it for me to follow you or to make my career decisions based on you but--” He huffs out a sigh, squeezing your hand before he lifts it to press a kiss to the spot on your skin just above your wrist. “I’m going to do it anyway.” 

Jimin winces, realizing how stalker-ish that might come across but you don’t seem to be too put off so he keeps rambling. “The showcase is going to open up the door to more opportunities, there’s no way there isn’t a company that would be great that’s where you are. And if there isn’t?”

His shoulders shrug, nose wrinkling before he offers you a shy smile. “I’ll create my own.”

“Chim--” You start, eyes going a bit glassy because you’re fighting back tears. You knew he had strong feelings for you, but even in all your arguing, you didn’t think that he meant it as seriously as this. “Are you…Is this really what you want?” 

“Yes.” He says it without hesitation, nodding his head enthusiastically as he shuffles slightly closer. His lips brush against your knuckles before he lets your joined hands fall between your bodies. “Wherever you are is where I want to be, no matter how hard it is and no matter how much navigating we have to do.”  

You don’t say anything. Instead, you squeeze his hand and lean into him until your temples press together. 

He takes it for the answer that it is, shifting just enough to press a chaste kiss against your cheek before closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of you against him and the slight breeze that rolls off the salty ocean spray.

“My future’s with you,” he says resolutely. He can feel your laughter before he hears it, lifting his head just in time to look up at you as you look at him. There’s fondness in your gaze, but there’s also fear because there are so many things that could go wrong. 

But Jimin isn’t afraid, he knows what he wants, you, and he’s never done anything halfway. And knowing that you’ve been pushing him away because you’re scared only makes him dig his heels in deeper. 

“You’re just going to have to trust me, baby, okay?” He asks, holding his breath until you nod and lean down to kiss him. 

When you pull away, Jimin can see all the hesitation you’re carrying shine in your eyes. He’s asking a lot of you by asking you to take a leap of faith and put all of your faith into him instead of the things you usually do. 

You like to plan, you’re organized, and you keep your emotions close to your chest. What Jimin’s asking is for you to put away your lists and plans and checkmark boxes and put your trust in him enough be willing to wade through something that’ll inevitably be messy. 

And it’ll be messy in a way that you’re probably not equipped to handle in the same way you’re able to handle the backlashes that come from your opinions or the causes you throw your entire being behind because it’s personal and intimate. 

That makes it scary. 

But Jimin’s ready to stand on the precipice with you, hands intertwined, and take that leap because he knows with every single part of him that the two of you will be something incredible together. 

So, when you take a deep breath and say, “I trust you,” it feels like everything is slotting together and yeah, you’re going to be falling but at least you’ll be falling (and landing) together. 

Jimin can’t hide the delight that springs from his heart at the admission. It helps settle every insecurity and anxiety that was waiting in the wings in anticipation that you might reject him again. 

But you’re not. You’re willing to give him a chance. You’re not fighting him on the decisions he wants to make and he knows exactly where he wants you to land.

He can dance anywhere but there’s only one you and Jimin would follow you to the moon and back.

---

Why do you hide this in the tags my man???

Thor: Bruce, this is my mother. Mother, this is my Bruce

Thor: *realizing what he said* Wait no, I meant-um, that’s not what I-

Bruce: *holding out a hand to Frigga, smiling* Hello, I’m his Bruce

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