#Interior Designer Park Jimin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clubdionysus · 5 months

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[BAD DECISION #2] Park Jimin

warnings: alcohol, clubbing, smut, spanking, protected sex, taken from behind, desk sex, reader is bratty, jimin enjoys it, reader doesn’t finish :(

soundtrack: streets - doja cat, babydoll - ari abdul, sex money feelings die (slowed ver) - lykke li

wc: 3.2k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist

You're three Purple Starfuckers deep when Park Jimin first catches your eye. You don't mean to stare, it's just that the way he moves is unlike anything you've ever seen before. There's a sensuality to his hips, a charm to his lips and - fuck it - maybe you do mean to stare. Maybe you want him looking at you too. Assessing. Undressing.

He's in all black. Black slacks, black shirt, black liquid in his cup. No idea what he's drinking, but you're wasted and think you'd quite like to taste it, too.

The thing about Park Jimin is that he's an absolute tool.

He knows he's hot. Knows when people are staring. Knows what to do, when to smile, how to glance over, look in your direction. Look you up. Look you down. Look away. Bite his lip. Returns his gaze. Focus 1...2...3. Look away.

It's a fine art. He mastered it young, and has been using it ever since. Can bed whoever he wants, whenever he wants.

And right now? He wants you.

You're ignorant to the rest of the club as he makes his way towards you. You're hot and clammy, skin a little sticky from sweat and spilt drinks. He doesn't mind. Finds it kind of hot. Likes to imagine that's what you'll look like in his bed too.

There's no real formal introduction - why would there be? He's not after your number; just wants to add to it.

Somewhere between the shitty base and the pressure of his lips on yours, he asks if you want to get out of Dionysus. Says he could do with some fresh air.

Jeongguk doesn't see you leave. A few hours later, he'll watch as Hoseok and Danbi dance around like lunatics to the final song of the evening, but they'll be missing their very own disco ball. It will be a shame, but Jeongguk will chalk it up to nothing of any significance. Will hope you got home safely.

The ride back to Jimin's is quiet.

His hand is on your thigh, and you're thankful to not be kissing him anymore. It's not that you didn't enjoy it - you just find kissing so... personal. So intimate. Fucking? Whatever. No big deal. But kissing? Something about it just puts you on edge.

It also does edge you slightly, but he'll reap that reward later.

"My room's at the far end," he says as he guides you into his apartment. It's dark, and he doesn't bother turning the lights on. No point. "I'm just gonna freshen up quickly. Meet you in there?"

You smile. Say yes. Are pleasantly surprised by a guy who -for once- seems to know he should really wash his hands before getting intimate with a woman. Perhaps you should do the same, but you don't really plan on getting that well acquainted with him.

It's no secret that this is just a hookup. A one-night thing. A craving settler. Frustration reliever.

His bedroom, disappointingly, is as you expect. A little bland, a little minimal. It doesn't excude the same sensuality that he does, but you're sure that when he returns, he'll have enough of that to fill the entire room.

There's a double bed in the centre of the back wall, and by the window, there's a desk. Not much on it. A laptop stand - the laptop of which is on his bed - and some pots full of pens. Books, too. Interior Design Anthologies by the looks of things - which is ironic, given how boring his room is.

You don't waver when you hear the click of Jimin's bedroom door. You smile, back turned to him, toying with the pens on his desk. His blinds are open, moonlight silhouetting you. The glow of silver satin makes you look ehteral; other wordly. If he wasn't tipsy, he'd admire it. Admire you.

Jimin's silent as he walks to meet you, the tips of his fingers sinking onto the satin above the flesh of your hips. The rigid metal of his rings against the smooth material of your dress is lethal. Has you thinking of all the little deaths you'd like to have.

He doesn't pull you back towards him. Instead, he draws himself closer to you, until his crotch rests against your ass. It's his belt buckle you feel first. His hardening cock, second.

Lips tender and plump, they trail down your neck, leaving a trail of his saliva. The cool air hits against it, the sensation giving you goosebumps - or maybe it's just him. You find yourself gasping, leaning into his touch.

You ignore him - or at least you try to - still tinkering with things on his desk. Disinterest turns him on a little. You're playing him well. Getting him right where you want him.

When he reaches your ear, his teeth graze against your lobe. "Stop playing with my pens, gorgeous. Need them for work."

You smile, wrapping your fingers around one of them. It's a fineliner, 0.3 nib. Nothing remarkable. You have the same brand in the art cafe you work at. His hand immediately reaches for it. Wraps around yours.

"Uh-uh," he hums. Removes the pen from you grasp and puts it back in it's holder. "That's my favourite. Can't lose it."

There's a pout on your lips. A soft moan escapes. Pretty, he thinks. "I like having my hands full."

Jimin's teeth graze your neck. Bite down. He sucks gently as a kiss is pressed to your skin. He's leaving a mark, and both of you damn well know it.

His hips push against your ass. You're trapped between him and the desk, his bulge undeniable. Has you wanting to bend over. You half think you might.

And then he whispers in your ear, "I think I have something you can fill them with instead."

He feels your ass move against him, the satin of your dress riding up ever so slightly. The hand of his that had put the pen back finds a new home: the top of your thigh beneath your dress. He pulls you back against him. Presses his stiff crotch to your ass slowly. Withdraws. Repeats. Slow. Deep.

You smirk. "I'd rather you fill something else."

There's a tenderness to the way Jimin pushes the skirt of your dress over your ass. Your underwear is black; lace, barely there. His finger hooks beneath the top of the waistband and slowly pulls it tight, the material taut against your soaked core making you gasp.

His other hand drops to your ass cheek. Grapples. Strokes. "Ask nicely."

You're whining a little from the friction he's still controlling. Your hips roll a little as your body sinks to lay flat against his desk, arms outstretched above your head. The tips of your fingers can reach his window. It's steamy. Covered in condensation.

Your silence is noticed.

You ask for nothing, for you're after a very specific something and - fuck - Park Jimin knows how to deliver. His hand pulls away from your ass, meeting it again with a sharp crack. It stings. Makes you gasp, but he can hear the satisfaction in your throat. Knows it's what you wanted.

"I told you to ask nicely," he reminds you, voice soft as he strokes against your ass again.

You don't. Instead, you repeat your movements. Slow, and languid, Jimin's trying his hardest not to just pull his cock out and start fucking you like he so desperately wants to.

But you're being a fucking tease, and he's not one to give into power dynamics all that easily.

And so his hand meets your ass again, the tips of his fingers digging in where they meet your skin.

"Fuck."

"Not the right answer," he tells you, spanking again, a little harder this time. Your hips are rolling so desperately that Jimin thinks it would be kind to put you out of your misery - but he also knows you can do it yourself.

You know exactly the right thing to say to get his cock pushing into you.

And yet you don't.

You enjoy this too much. Enjoy that he'll be the one begging soon.

It comes quicker than you expect - three more spanks, to be precise. Jimin's so hard he think he might cum in his fucking pants if this goes on for much longer.

His fingers sink into your hot core as he says, "Gotta fuck you, gorgeous. Gotta- uh, fuck. So fuckin' wet, aren't you? I made you this needy?"

Why the fuck he thinks you'll give him the answer he wants is beyond him.

You like a challenge far too much.

"Me? Wet? Baby, this is nothing," you tell him.

And just like that, it's all on your terms. He wants to prove himself. If this is nothing (it's not, you're soaked), then he wants everything.

You're in control of it all; the way Jimin can't control himself, the way he asks to fuck you raw but you insist on a condom, the way he pushes his thick cock into you so slowly that you can't help but whine. It's all orchestrated by you.

You think it's cute that he thought he had authority for a little bit. He still does as he thrusts his hips against you, the sound of skin slapping together echoing around the room. His cock burns and cools in the same stroke; filling you, and then leaving you empty. He's got a good pace. A good rhythm. Enough to have you moaning.

"Take me so well," he husks, before letting his palm crack against your ass again. You whine, and so he does it once more.

Again, very cute that he thinks he's in control.

You're whining cause you know it means he'll just do it again. And he does, and -fuck- you're close. He really had edged you with his teasing. His hand wraps around your ponytail, pulling your torso up. It's arched, and fuck if it isn't the sexiest thing Jimin's ever seen.

"You're gonna make me cum, gorgeous," he groans. "Gonna make- Oh fuck. You feel so fucking good."

It's been a while since you last felt like playing the role of a cum slut, but the idea of him spilling himself onto you has you mewling. You want it. Have missed feeling used like this.

Hoseok isn't the only one who's recently been through a change in relationship status; you're just dealing with it a hell of a lot better.

Or at least you're telling yourself you are.

"On my back," you tell him - and he needs no further instructions. He fucks himself into you - fast, frantic, fraught - until he's grunting. He pulls out, tears the condom from his leaky cock and wanks himself all over your spine. His cum is warm against your skin, his body shaking from his release. Thick. Well placed.

Credit where it's due, you think. He's got a great pull-out game. Makes sense, considering how much he'd pleaded to fuck you raw. Must have had a lot of practice.

"You fucking loved that," he tells you, spanking your ass one final time, and it makes you laugh. He's cocky, and it suits him well, but it still amazes you that he thinks he was in control.

"Just what I needed," you flirt regardless. You'll give him the ego boost. It's not like you actually came, but it was enough to satisfy a craving. "Appreciate it."

"Pleasures all mine," he smirks as he reaches for the tissues by his bed. If he were truly a gent, he'd clean it up himself. The angle is awkward for you, twisting uncomfortably to reach it. Fuck knows if you get it all. He pulls off his shirt and begins to actually undress himself, now. "You're welcome to stay."

It's a nice offer. Not one that you'll accept. The idea of snuggling up with a stranger makes your skin crawl. "Can I just charge for my phone for a bit? I'll order a taxi back to mine."

Jimin shrugs. He doesn't give a shit if you stay or go, but he does enjoy post fuck intimacy. Whenever Jimin discusses his hookups with his housemate, they're always confused.

They hate post fuck intimacy with strangers. Just like you. They like to shower; get the feeling of filth off of themselves.

Jimin isn't like that. He revels in it. Thinks it's the most humane feeling in the world. What we were built to do.

He yawns, clearly wiped out from the alcohol and mumbles something about 'wake me if you need me' - and then he's dozing off. You haven't even found his charger yet.

The clock on his desk reads 5:07 in the morning. You really do just want to go home. Get a couple hours sleep in. You're working the afternoon shift in the cafe today, so you'll be fine, but you'd still rather not crash here. Rather go home, sober up, have a shower.

Now that the haze of sex is gone, you're less enthusiastic about the way the skin on your back feels tighter; the remains of his fun drying out.

"Psst," you hiss, trying to get Jimin's attention - but he just snores a little harder. Is dead to the world. Always is after a few too many.

You don't want to turn the light on just incase you wake him, so you head towards the sitting room instead, hoping maybe there'd be a charger in there. You'll plug your phone in for a few minutes, enough charge to ensure you can make it home, and then that'll be it.

Park Jimin will be all but a memory. Not a bad one. Not a significantly great one either. Just a reminder of your reckless youth.

You're still in your heels, thanks to Jimin's decision to take you bent over his desk, so you try your hardest not let them click against the tiles. You're a little tipsy, but you think you're doing alright - that is, at least, until you realise you have no idea where the light switch is.

"Shit."

And then you're on the floor.

You hadn't meant to trip over the side table, but it was so low down that it had been hard to see. Already unsteady on your feet, it hadn't taken much for you to fall - taking the games console controllers resting on it straight down with you - but on the plus side, you've just found the floor switch for a lamp.

So busy trying to figure which wall socket to switch out, you don't notice the click of a door. It's from down the hall, the opposite end to Jimin's room.

Jimin's flatmate pads along the tile flooring, scuffing against them slightly. He's in nothing but a pair of boxers and socks. He's silent, bringing the heel of his palm to his eyes, rubbing slightly. Having only just fallen asleep, he didn't take too kindly to the rude awakening - but knew Jimin was a liability after a few too many. Nothing to be too annoyed about.

"Watcha lost?" he croaks, before you manage to flick the light on and his gaze falls on you. "Oh."

His brow pinch together, eyes scanning you. He blinks once, twice. Sneers a little in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

You stare up at him, eyes wide as you take him in; hair ruffled, exposed torso shining in the warm lamp light, tattoos trailing up his arm and spilling over onto his shoulder.

You're still in your party dress. What little makeup you did still have on when you left the club is now smeared around your eyes. Your ponytail isn't as sleek as it once was thanks to Jimin's earlier grip on it.

And then he notices the hickey, too. Ah. That explains it.

You furrow your brows right back. "Could ask you the same."

You wonder what brings him here at such an hour. Perhaps he's dating Jimin's roommate. Perhaps she was at the bar too, and he just went home with her? Perhaps you misread his flirting and it's not a 'she' at all?

His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek as you stand, straightening yourself out a little. You're awkward as you get to your feet, legs bowing a little. Your eyes are all big and wide, like they were when you thought he could smell smoke on you earlier. He feels a little bad.

You half expect to hear a 'baby, come back to bed,' from whoever he's sharing one with.

But instead, Jeongguk simply says, "didn't realise I needed permission to be in my own apartment."

Your eyes close as your whole entire body winces from the cringe. Of course. It makes perfect sense.

"Running out on him already?" Jeongguk smirks. It's arrogant. Feels like he's judging you. Taking it personally. "Cold."

"Places to be," you shrug. "He's out cold."

"Yeah," Jeongguk nods. "He does that. Sounds like Jimin."

There's silence for a moment. Neither of you know exactly what to say. Early morning is breaking, and it's casting the most glorious orange hues onto his toned abs. You've no idea what he does in the gym, but you know he must be there every waking moment to have a physique like that.

"Sorry-"

"I was just-"

Again, you both pause, a little bashful. Red in the cheeks. Heartbeat in your throat. You look down, and give Jeongguk the room to talk.

"I thought Jimin was looking for something. Sorry. I'll let you get on."

"Oh, no," you smile. "It's fine, I'm sorry for waking you. Was just about to leave."

"Only been home for about twenty minutes. Didn't wake me."

Your face turns a ghostly white. He laughs.

"Didn't hear anything, don't worry."

And now it's as rosy as his lips, which are breaking into a smile.

"Clear off," he says tenderly. "There's a taxi rank next to the CU across the road. I'll tell Jimin you had to get home. No biggie."

You nod. Bow because that somehow feels appropriate. He's laughing at you again, and you're laughing too and - fuck - you want to die. This is not how you thought your night would end. Didn't even get an orgasm from Jimin to make up for the awkwardness of such an encounter.

"Thank you."

"It's cool," he says as he shrugs, walking to the door with you in a casual silence. It's awkward but not uncomfortable - although it is a little funny, 'cause even though his roommates been inside of you, you somehow feel like you know Jeongguk a little better.

He says goodbye. Reminds you to text Jimin to let him know you're home safe (not that you have his number) and smiles as he says, "See you around, trouble."

And you know you shouldn't, but you really hope you do.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#by holly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk #jungkook x reader #jeongguk fanfic #bangtan #jungkook fluff #bartender!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #jeongguk fic #bad decisions #dappleddaisies

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alphabetboyluvr · 1 year

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bad decisions | jjk - two

"It's cool," he says as he shrugs, walking to the door with you in a casual silence. It's awkward but not uncomfortable - although it is a little funny, 'cause even though his housemate's been inside you, you somehow feel like you know Jungkook a little better. He says goodbye. Reminds you to text Jimin to let him know you're home safe (not that you have his number), and smiles as he says, "See you around, trouble." And you know you shouldn't, but you really hope you do.

Bad Decision #2 - Park Jimin

warnings: alcohol, clubbing, smut, spanking, protected sex, taken from behind, desk sex, reader is bratty, jimin enjoys it, reader doesn't finish :(

soundtrack: streets - doja cat, babydoll - ari abdul, sex money feelings die (slowed ver) - lykke li

wc: 3.2k

bd total wc: 370k (on-going)

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

Maybe you want him looking at you too. Assessing. Undressing.

He's in all black. Black slacks, black shirt, black liquid in his cup. No idea what he's drinking, but you're wasted and think you'd quite like to taste it, too.

The thing about Park Jimin is that he's an absolute tool.

It's a fine art. He mastered it young, and has been using it ever since. Can bed whoever he wants, whenever he wants.

And right now?

He wants you.

There's no real formal introduction. Why would there be? He's not after your number; just wants to add to it.

Somewhere between the shitty base and the pressure of his lips on yours, he asks if you want to get out of Dionysus. Says he could do with some fresh air.

Jungkook doesn't see you leave. A few hours later, he'll watch as Hoseok and Danbi dance around like lunatics to the final song of the evening, but they'll be missing their very own disco ball. It will be a shame, but Jungkook will chalk it up to nothing of any significance. Will hope you got home safely.

The ride back to Jimin's is quiet.

His hand is on your thigh, and you're thankful to not be kissing him anymore. It's not that you didn't enjoy it. You just find kissing so... personal. So intimate. Fucking? Whatever. No big deal. But kissing? Something about it just puts you on edge.

It also does edge you slightly, but he'll reap that reward later.

"My room's at the far end," he says as he guides you into his apartment. It's dark, and he doesn't bother turning the lights on. No point. "I'm just gonna freshen up quickly. Meet you in there?"

It's no secret that this is just a hookup. A one-night thing. A craving settler. Frustration reliever.

His bedroom, disappointingly, is as you expect. A little bland, a little minimal. It doesn't exude the same sensuality that he does, but you're sure that when he returns, he'll have enough of that to fill the entire room.

There's a double bed in the centre of the back wall, and by the window, there's a desk. Not much on it. A laptop stand—the laptop of which is on his bed—and some pots full of pens. Books, too. Interior Design Anthologies by the looks of things—which is ironic, given how boring his room is.

You don't waver when you hear the click of Jimin's bedroom door. You smile, back turned to him, toying with the pens on his desk. His blinds are open, moonlight silhouetting you. The glow of silver satin makes you look ethereal; other wordly. If he wasn't tipsy, he'd admire it. Admire you.

He doesn't pull you back towards him. Instead, he draws himself closer to you, until his crotch rests against your ass. It's his belt buckle you feel first. His hardening cock, second.

You ignore him—or at least you try to—still tinkering with things on his desk. Disinterest turns him on a little. You're playing him well. Getting him right where you want him.

When he reaches your ear, his teeth graze against your lobe. "Stop playing with my pens, gorgeous. Need them for work."

"Uh-uh," he hums. Removes the pen from you grasp and puts it back in it's holder. "That's my favourite. Can't lose it."

There's a pout on your lips. A soft moan escapes. Pretty, he thinks. "I like having my hands full."

Jimin's teeth graze your neck. Bite down. He sucks gently as a kiss is pressed to your skin. He's leaving a mark, and both of you damn well know it.

His hips push against your ass. You're trapped between him and the desk, his bulge undeniable. Has you wanting to bend over. You half think you might.

And then he whispers in your ear, "I think I have something you can fill them with instead."

You smirk. "I'd rather you fill something else."

His other hand drops to your ass cheek. Grapples. Strokes. "Ask nicely."

Your silence is noticed.

You ask for nothing, for you're after a very specific something and—fuck—Park Jimin knows how to deliver. His hand pulls away from your ass, meeting it again with a sharp crack. It stings. Makes you gasp, but he can hear the satisfaction in your throat. Knows it's what you wanted.

"I told you to ask nicely," he reminds you, voice soft as he strokes against your ass again.

You don't. Instead, you repeat your movements. Slow, and languid, Jimin's trying his hardest not to just pull his cock out and start fucking you like he so desperately wants to.

But you're being a fucking tease, and he's not one to give into power dynamics all that easily.

And so his hand meets your ass again, the tips of his fingers digging in where they meet your skin.

"Fuck."

"Not the right answer," he tells you, spanking again, a little harder this time. Your hips are rolling so desperately that Jimin thinks it would be kind to put you out of your misery—but he also knows you can do it yourself.

You know exactly the right thing to say to get his cock pushing into you.

And yet you don't.

You enjoy this too much. Enjoy that he'll be the one begging soon.

It comes quicker than you expect - three more spanks, to be precise. Jimin's so hard he think he might cum in his fucking pants if this goes on for much longer.

His fingers sink into your hot core as he says, "Gotta fuck you, gorgeous. Gotta- uh, fuck. So fuckin' wet, aren't you? You got like this thinking about me? I made you this needy?"

Why the fuck he thinks you'll give him the answer he wants is beyond him.

You like a challenge far too much.

"Me? Wet? Honey, this is nothing," you tell him.

And just like that, it's all on your terms. He wants to prove himself. If this is nothing (it's not, you're soaked), then he wants everything.

"Take me so well," he husks, before letting his palm crack against your ass again. You whine, and so he does it once more.

Again, very cute that he thinks he's in control.

You're whining cause you know it means he'll just do it again. And he does, and—fuck—you're close. He really had edged you with his teasing. His hand wraps around your ponytail, pulling your torso up. It's arched, and fuck if it isn't the sexiest thing Jimin's ever seen.

"You're gonna make me cum, gorgeous," he groans. "Gonna make- Oh fuck. You feel so fucking good."

It's been a while since you last felt like playing the role of a cum slut, but the idea of him spilling himself onto you has you mewling. You want it. Have missed feeling used like this.

Hoseok isn't the only one who's recently been through a change in relationship status; you're just dealing with it a hell of a lot better.

"On my back," you tell him. He needs no further instructions.

Jimin fucks himself into you—fast, frantic, fraught—until he's grunting. He pulls out, tears the condom from his leaky cock and wanks himself all over your spine. His cum is warm against your skin, his body shaking from his release. Thick. Well placed.

Credit where it's due, you think. He's got a great pull-out game. Makes sense, considering how much he'd pleaded to fuck you raw. Must have had a lot of practice.

"You fucking loved that," he tells you, spanking your ass one final time, and it makes you laugh. He's cocky, and it suits him well, but it still amazes you that he thinks he was in control.

"Just what I needed," you flirt regardless. You'll give him the ego boost. It's not like you actually came, but it was enough to satisfy a craving. "Appreciate it."

It's a nice offer. Not one that you'll accept. The idea of snuggling up with a stranger makes your skin crawl. "Can I just charge my phone for a bit? I'll order a taxi back to mine."

Jimin shrugs. He doesn't give a shit if you stay or go, but he does enjoy post fuck intimacy. Whenever Jimin discusses his hookups with his housemate, they're always confused.

They hate post fuck intimacy with strangers. Just like you. They like to shower; get the feeling of filth off of themselves. It's part of the reason they don't fuck about. More of a relationship type.

Jimin isn't like that. He revels in it. Thinks it's the most humane feeling in the world. What we were built to do.

He yawns, clearly wiped out from the alcohol and mumbles something about 'wake me if you need me' - and then he's dozing off. You haven't even found his charger yet.

Now that the haze of sex is gone, you're less enthusiastic about the way the skin on your back feels tighter; the remains of his fun drying out.

"Psst," you hiss, trying to get Jimin's attention - but he just snores a little harder. Is dead to the world. Always is after a few too many.

Park Jimin will be all but a memory. Not a bad one. Not a significantly great one either. Just a reminder of your reckless youth.

"Shit."

And then you're on the floor.

So busy trying to figure which wall socket to switch out, you don't notice the click of a door. It's from down the hall, the opposite end to Jimin's room.

"Watcha lost?" he croaks, before you manage to flick the light on and his gaze falls on you. "Oh."

His brow pinch together, eyes scanning you. He blinks once, twice. Sneers a little in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

You stare up at him, eyes wide as you take him in; hair ruffled, exposed torso shining in the warm lamp light, tattoos trailing up his arm and spilling over onto his shoulder.

And then he notices the hickey, too. Ah. That explains it.

You furrow your brows right back. "Could ask you the same."

You half expect to hear a 'baby, come back to bed,' from whoever he's sharing one with.

But instead, Jungkook simply says, "didn't realise I needed permission to be in my own apartment."

Your eyes close as your whole entire body winces from the cringe. Of course. It makes perfect sense.

"Running out on him already?" Jungkook smirks. It's arrogant. Feels like he's judging you. Taking it personally. "Cold."

"Places to be," you shrug. "He's out cold."

"Yeah," Jungkook nods. "He does that. Sounds like Jimin."

There's silence for a moment. Neither of you knows exactly what to say. Early morning is breaking, and it's casting the most glorious orange hues onto his toned abs. You've no idea what he does in the gym, but you know he must be there every waking moment to have a physique like that.

"Sorry-"

"I was just-"

Again, you both pause, a little bashful. Red in the cheeks. Heartbeat in your throat. You look down, and give Jungkook the room to talk.

"I thought Jimin was looking for something. Sorry. I'll let you get on."

"Oh, no," you smile. "It's fine, I'm sorry for waking you. Was just about to leave."

"Only been home for about twenty minutes. Didn't wake me."

Your face turns a ghostly white. He laughs.

"Didn't hear anything, don't worry."

And now it's as rosy as his lips, which are breaking into a smile.

"Clear off," he says tenderly. "There's a taxi rank next to the CU across the road. I'll tell Jimin you had to get home. No biggie."

You nod. Bow because that somehow feels appropriate. He's laughing at you again, and you're laughing too and—fuck—you want to die.

This is not how you thought your night would end. Didn't even get an orgasm from Jimin to make up for the awkwardness of such an encounter.

"Thank you."

He says goodbye. Reminds you to text Jimin to let him know you're home safe (not that you have his number), and smiles as he says, "See you around, trouble."

And you know you shouldn't, but you really hope you do.

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ssirenaamae · 6 months

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HER| Park Jimin 박 지민

Based on the song “HER” by Chase Atlantic

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Chapter one

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"Sometimes, I wish you were a man, Kyung-Mi," Chung-Ae sighed.

What?

"I'm not even going to question what goes on in your mind at this point, Chung-Ae," I laughed as I continued to wipe one of the tables of the diner.

She tends to say the most random things ever. Her mind sure is something. Not going to lie, I'm kind of jealous.

"I'm serious! Men these days are just pure trash. Sure, there might be good guys out here somewhere—but so far all the ones I've met are just horrible. You have all the great qualities one looks for in a partner!" She whined.

I mean, she does have a point about it being tough to find some good partners these days. I've only been in like two relationships, but they weren't anything memorable or serious. At the same time, I wouldn't even count them as a relationship if they were in middle school though.

I was about to date a few guys back in high school, but they all either were messing with me, or it just didn't work out.

I guess I have terrible luck when it comes to men. Maybe I even have terrible qualities which leads me to still be single today, but Chung-Ae says other ways.

"You do have a point," I huffed.

After cleaning the final table in the diner, I take off my apron and smile in satisfaction. Today sure was a long day at the diner.

"Do you underestand, though?! Kyung-Mi, I don't want to end up alone and miserable. I need a man, and fast!" Chung-Ae complained.

"Honestly speaking—I feel the same way," I finally gave in and threw myself at one of the couches and groaned.

We both looked at each other and frowned. We can't stay in this depressing mood forever.

Who am I kidding, though? We're very pessimistic, so we'll probably keep on torturing ourselves about it.

"We have got to do something about this," Chung-Ae said.

"I think we should just let ourselves go with the flow," I replied.

"What? And leave ourselves single with 30 cats? No, thanks," she scoffed.

God, is she tiring sometimes...

If we keep on speaking about this topic, we'll probably ball our eyes out at this point. To be honest, I'm not really in the mood to wipe Chung-Ae's snot off her face—or listen to a sad playlist together.

"If I buy us dinner, will you shut up about this?"

"No way! I'm not that cheap, love," she huffed proudly.

I rolled my eyes, "Okay, I'm buying us dinner for a whole week. How about that?"

It grew silent for a moment.

"You have got yourself a deal."

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

"So then I looked this girl in the eye and told her to piss off and—you are not even listening to me!" Chung-Ae screeched.

"Well, you know I zone out a lot. So, technically, it isn't my fault. It's genetics!" I justified.

"What does genetics have to—I can't even believe you're in medical school at this point," she facepalmed.

"I couldn't believe it either at first—trust me," I said.

I remember quite vividly how I had imposter syndrome. I was terribly convinced that they must've had a mix-up with me and another student. It was so stressful. Luckily enough, I managed to do well over the past few years at school.

Medical school is not for the faint-hearted. I probably should've known that before entering. Then again, some people think it's not that bad. I don't know if they're too smart or if I'm just stupid.

Chung-Ae, on the other hand, already graduated and is now working as an interior designer. I, on the other hand, am in my last year in medical school.

"Anyway, how many months do you have left before you officially graduate?" Chung-Ae asked as she munched on her bruschetta.

"3 months. Our graduation ceremony will be done after it in 2 months, "I answered as I was cutting the steak into bite-sized pieces for Chung-ae. She doesn't know how to use a knife that well, so I try to help at times.

"And you wonder why I said I wish you were a man," Chung-Ae mumbled as she watched me cut her steak for her.

"Anyway, you just have five months left?! God, I can't wait for you to work too so we both complain about our coworkers or—"

Chung-Ae started coughing and banged on her chest in an attempt to stop coughing. As I was about to go and help her, same thing with the waiter, she gestured for us a thumbs up. Unknowingly, we both exhaled a huge breath we'd been holding in.

"Miss, are you alright? Was there something in the food?" The waiter nervously asked.

She shook her head, "No, there's nothing with the food. It's all good, thank you."

After the waiter left, I looked at her with my brows raised. She gestured for me to wait a minute as she was drinking water.

"Isn't that your professor right there? Park Mijin was it?" She whisper-shouted.

As I looked in the direction she pointed at, my breath hitched as I saw professor Park with a woman, conversing over something.

Was he on a date?

I gulped, "Yeah, um that's him yeah."

I couldn't help but stare at them as my heart was beating so hard. The way he was smiling at her made my lips twitch.

"Kyung-Mi..." Chung-Ae wiped my face, which confused me as I didn't know that I was crying.

I thanked her and took the tissues from her, attempting to stop the tears from running down my face.

"God, what's wrong with me? Why am I even crying," I laughed, attempting to lighten the mood.

That didn't work though as Chung-Ae held my hands and rubbed them, looking at me sympathetically. We sit in silence like this for a few minutes as the restaurant's atmosphere filled in the quietness.

I can't believe I cried in public. I mean, I know people didn't notice, nor do they care; however, I'm still embarrassed.

If I cry, I usually cry at home or at Chung-Ae's house. I always try to restrain myself in public—though I guess this doesn't apply to what happened right now.

I wish I wasn't so sensitive sometimes.

"I'm sorry. I know you like him a lot," Chung-Ae broke the silence.

"Yeah, well—he's my professor, so it's not like something was going to happen anyway," I sniffled, still looking at the table rather than at her.

"It's his loss anyway," she tried to cheer me up.

I smiled slightly, mouthing a small thank you as I tried to recollect myself.

I know it's so inappropriate to like my teacher, but he has been an important figure in my life since last year. He treated me so well too. I've never been treated with this much care and respect.

He never crossed any boundaries, though. I'm just the idiot who falls for any guy who gives her the slightest attention. Even more of an idiot to fall for my professor.

But can you blame me though? He's smart, sophisticated, mature, gorgeous, kind, sweet, and caring. It's like he's flawless.

If only things were different, then maybe...

"Kyung-Mi, come on, let's go," Chung-As called out to me.

I furrowed my brows, "But, aren't I supposed to pay for dinner?"

"I did, so no worries. You can treat me to dinner later," She smiled.

This girl.

I picked up my bag and began to head out. Before leaving, I couldn't help but stare at them momentarily before I left.

Unbeknownst to me, he managed to catch a glimpse of me before I left.

#park jimin #jimin #bts fanfction #jimin fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #bts army #bts fanfic #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #bangtan boys #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #jung hoseok #min yoongi

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casspurrjoybell-9 · 2 months

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BTS - 'RUN BTS!' - Season 3 - Episode 149 "Bangtan Interior Design" August 31, 2021

BTS:- Members try out interior design.

Team #1 - Interior A (soft grey)

Min Yoon-gi aka Suga, Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

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How delulu are you for the BTS members: ranked list or bulleted reasons.

Also, you're awesome and I hope that every time you use a vending machine, the universe gives you an extra snack. <3

that is borderline the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, nonnie. i hope you always get an abundance of bag fries.

here is your requested ranking:

jeon jungkook — self explanatory. i'm doing horrendous and i'm doing it publicly which is just... sad. the most pathetic anyone has ever been.

min yoongi — i just want to hold his hand and talk about architecture and interior design with him which is arguably less weird than whatever shit i think about jungkook, but. you know. still delulu. and then the d-day tour happened and i feel like i've been some degree of comatose since february. this has only been toned down bc he's dragging his bf around everywhere and reminding me how off-limits he is.

kim namjoon — i haven't forgotten about him being a slut in that turtleneck and i never will. something in my dna got altered that day.

kim seokjin — i am mostly normal about him just bc he is my comfort person but then sometimes he posts a shirtless pic on instagram and there's no containing me. kim seokjin i am in your walls never forget.

jung hoseok — idk man. 3-5 are tied. hobi with the painted nails and long hair at lolla exuding absolute monster cock energy? kill me.

kim taehyung — anyone who says they aren't even a little bit delulu over him is lying. the aries moon energy he exudes is just......... i need me a man who will threaten to shoot someone with a poison dart to defend my honor.

park jimin — listen. i know what you're thinking. jewel how could you rank jimin last have you seen him. yes, i have seen him. i have also seen his chaotic slytherin libra gremlin energy and let me tell you, me and park jimin are the same person. we would fight. he would pull my hair. not in the sexy way. i love him and he's a beautiful ethereal gender god but i need to have some degree of self-preservation here.

#jewel answers

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 1 year

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Jikook aren’t investing their current condos because they’re designing that big AF mansion JK bought in Itaewon and that’s where all the interior decor efforts are put right now 😏 you know, that’ll be that big family house for the Jeon-Parks and their pets and all

for legal reasons, this should not taken seriously

or maybe… 😜

Pets, a big ass gym, Jimin's art collection, other secret rooms....Oh, and they must have limes in the kitchen.

#m thoughts #jikook

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adinfinitumdrp · 1 year

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accepted applications:

jung soojung / singer ➕ jean jung, a fashion magazine editor

yoon jeonghan / seventeen ➕ han subin, an asmr content creator

yunjin / le sserafim ➕ yuri kwak, a student at harmony university and tattoo artist at refined ink tattoos

yu jimin / aespa ➕ kang daeun, a tattoo artist at refined ink tattoos

lee dohyun / actor ➕ park seokhyeop , a surgeon

song hayoung / fromis_9 ➕ ahn narae, a former idol / streamer & youtuber

xiaojun / nct ➕ zhao lian (luciel), an independent producer | musician on youtube ( online )

hani / exid ➕ kwon minji, a voice actress at nunchi studios, freelance model and interior designer

BM / kard ➕ park seungmin, a part-time server & street performer

#adinf:res.

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hollyhomburg · 2 years

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt. 33)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Tae’s first love will always be poetry, you and Jiminie are a close second. Jimin’s instincts are a force to be reckoned with.

Pairings: Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin, Beta! Yoongi,

Tags: Consumption of alcohol, drunk kisses, Jimin but gets handsy with the m/c, sexual touching, flirting, drunk sexual content, posessive behavior, yandere! Jimin, Don’t like don’t read, Jimin also has like- one sip of alchohol while he is the designated driver, but they are at the bar for 3+ hours

W/c: 9.4k

A/n: Although i don’t think that what happens in the chapter is in any way un consensual- it definitely toes a line in what is considered modern consent theory. I don’t subscribe to the notion that one sip of alcohol takes away a persons agency- and the m/c is still very much verbally consenting to Jimin even though she has had a drink-and he hasn’t and Jimin is scent high so! She’s tipsy at best through the entirety of the chapter.

The Poem that is spoken before Tae’s poem is a snippet from Jasmine man’s poem ‘black girl, call home’ you should all follow her on twitter here! thank you to whatever anon recommended me her work!

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

The sun sets on your drive over, turning the rearview mirror every shade of yellow and red. The lights of the city twinkle in the distance and turn the sky a burning orange on the horizon. Jimin uses his horn liberally as he struggles to park but in the meantime, you transfer your few cards to the new wallet and put the wallet inside the bunny bag. Giving it a happy squeeze when everything is finally all in it’s place.

A group of people smokes outside the bar and If the smell draws Jimin at all he doesn’t show it, holding the door open for you and Tae. the interior of the bar is already crowded by the time you get in. You think you're doomed to the standing room by the bar but then you see it: right by the door, a booth with one side to the windows

Reserved for PARK; party of three.

Neither of your alphas addresses the many many heads that shoot in your direction when you walk in but then again Jimin and Tae are attractive, attractive enough to draw the stairs of many omegas who straighten up in their chairs, and no less than a dozen alphas who instantly widen their shoulders and their stance. Posturing without having to because Jimin and Tae are not a threat (yet) or a possible competitor.

You start to shrink back, but Tae's fingers rub soothing circles on the back of your hand and tug you to stand closer.

It's been so long since Tae has been Taehyung that her transformation is striking, even if you hate it; the way she so effortlessly puts on the disguise of masculinity, tilts her shoulders just so, lets that cold almost detached look in her eyes grow as she catches an alpha staring at you (she doesn’t blame them, but theres a reason she pulls you closer, her hand in yours a clear claim).

You can see the signs of the dysphoria and her discomfort; the way she constantly pulls at her collar, the curled nature to her shoulders, not to mention the bitter edge to her cinnamon scent. The way her stoicism is just a little too tense and practiced is another facet of Taehyung learned from Minnie.

Jimin does not need to playact to be masculine or intimidating, the way he walks leads to stares that follow him as he approaches a nearby bus girl and asks her a question, inaudible over the din, pointing at the only table unoccupied, checking in apparently.

The table reserved has a clear view of a small circular stage already set up on what is probably usually the bars dance floor, complete with a mic and spotlight. people packed around the tables and at the bar. It's a good thing Minnie thought to make a reservation (never-mind that the reservation cost him a pretty penny, that's a secret he'll take to the grave. What's another lie cast into the mix?)

Overlapping conversations and overlapping scents create something that could easily be sensory hell if Tae didn't pile into your side of the booth after you. You almost forgot that this is what it was supposed to be; a drunk poetry night. Even though the nature of poetry is calm and gentle it's still a Friday night in the city. More than one group is nursing worries and others celebrations.

You’re neither the most professionally dressed nor the most fanciful, girls with cute twee skirts and men in dusty suit jackets right next to older women clad in octogenarian chic accompanied by grungy and punky companions. A loud group of alphas at the front dressed more like a set of idols than poets make a good bunch of the noise (maybe they should stick to the sports bar across the street).

The room is a mess of smells and scents of scent blockers, enhancers, and those who want their scents to roam free undiluted or uncomplicated. You’re glad you don’t have to wade through the crowd and bump into people, it's already bothering your nose.

You set your new bunny purse on the table as Jimin takes off his jacket, and before anyone can say anything or Jimin can protest, Tae is already snagging a menu off the table that loudly proclaims their special of the evening is something called a ‘write drunk, edit sober.'

“I’ve got it, what do you want? Something sweet?" A glance says that you don't know what any of the names are let alone the true difference between tequila, rum, and vodka as a base. You look over the list and quickly get overwhelmed by the choice.

But Something sweet is manageable. A small nod and she's already dashing off into the crowd in the direction of the bar, a little extra energy in her step.

You almost want to laugh as you settle in across from Jimin, “he seems excited.” Somehow you know that Tae is going to pick out something you like- something that will probably become a new favorite. Tae has good intuition like that.

Jimin looks like he wants to follow Tae into the crowd but then sits back, leaning in to you from across the table close enough that you can feel the warmth of his shoulder. The closeness makes your skin itch a little, and both of your hands on the table tingle with the need to reach out to his.

“Watch, I bet he makes at least one friend on his way to the bar- look, that one there,” Jimin’s fingers are pudgy as he jabs on in Tae's direction, the other finding yours across the table, his small pinky hooking around yours.

It feels strange to refer to Tae as anything but 'she', but you know she wouldn’t want you to do it now in front of Minnie. and yet- there is the feeling of pinpricks spreading up the back of your neck. Your hands clasp, and you find yourself sinking into the velvet arms of Jimin's scent as he watches Tae worm his way up to the table.

You watch the way she smiles, that special small boxy way that makes her look so beautiful. Your heart aches watching her even across the room and you fidget with the urge to jump up and join her. Does Jimin feel the same way? Is this what it's like to love Tae? Could Jimin give you a how-to guide on how to handle it?

Jimin glances back at you when he realizes you never responded, but the soft smile he finds there is his smiles companion (if two smiles could have a soulmate, yours and his would match since they both come from your love for tae).

“I'm glad we did this, Tae seems really happy.”

“You make Tae really happy.” It’s a fact, not just an observation, and Jimin squeezes your hand as he says it. Jimin is always truthful about Tae though some would say that love is an inherent bias.

This isn't the first time you've been alone with Jimin in a room full of people, but it feels that way. Your scent fluffs over Jimin like a thick blanket as if in reply to his, like the second part of a poems rhyme. He saw you scenting the air in the car and to be honest saw the way it made your mind go all hazy and oblivious to the way he and tae were waiting for you to buckle yourself in. Not annoying but endearing and if Jimin was being honest, it was hard to hold himself back from having the same reaction.

Complimentary scents smell best to the complementary pair. Your scent profiles are both warm, yours’s baked gooeyness and Jimin’s vanilla. Jimin's not sure he's ever had a cake that didn't have at least a teaspoon of vanilla in it. He’s not sure he could think of a better scent combination; maybe Jinnie and Namjoon- coffee and cream.

Jimin wants to gush, take your bait and talk about his favorite obsession. The thing that is making both your scents smell this good.

Have you noticed how pretty he looks when he smiles? the cute way he speeds up when he talks about the books he’s reading? Have you noticed how he holds things when he gets all sleepy? How possessive he gets over what he hugs at night like the little alpha he is. Tell me all about how you love him, please, everything about Tae, even if I’ve heard it before I want to hear it again.

But there is only one secret hidden in your lips, red and painted on by his lover's hands.

Jimin is a little alpha compared to Tae, but if you’re comparing them in terms of instincts- then Tae’s tiny compared to Jimin, a spoonful to a bucket. You’ve seen more than one alpha look away from Jimin and his stare, he’s commanding in his aura. You've also seen more than one omega with their eyes drawn to him, eyelashes fluttering.

It doesn’t irk you like it might have if it was Yoongi they were looking at, but maybe that's only because he hasn't torn his eyes away from you or Tae since you walked in.

‘You make Tae happy.’

“Is that-” you’re a little worried about saying it, and Jimin’s hand tightens in yours. You can feel the callous on his pointer finger from where he must fire a gun, how many times has he fired it, 100? 1000? To get a callous in such a telling place seems to evidentiary.

“-Is that the only reason why you invited me out tonight? Why you wanted to keep this date even after-“ you trail off, unwilling to finish your sentence of ‘even after I made it so difficult for you.'

It has been a full month since he’d initially asked you on this date. More than enough time for each of you to get better ideas of who to spend your time with and for these plans to fall through the cracks. yet they hadn’t- yet, you both sit here. So much has changed since Jimin asked you on this date on Tae's behalf not only between you and Tae but between you and Hobi and Jin and Namjoon too.

Jimin wonders where you'll be next month.

For his credit Jimin is instantly apologetic at your assertion, his hand going ridged on yours. He's an awfully tactile alpha, though you don't know if his constant back and forth touches are a result of him trying to reassure himself that you're still there or that only the repetitive touches seem to sate his blasted instincts.

“No! No- that’s not it at all- please don’t think that’s the only reason, I just-”

One moment you’re sitting on one side of the booth alone and the next, Jimin is pushing himself over to your side. It puts his back to the door unfortunately but fuck it you’re more important than any imagined threat of may or may not walk through that door. Jimin's paranoia has always served him well- but maybe just this once he can let it go without catastrophic consequences.

Maybe.

Jimin’s hands on your thighs are firm as he hoists you into his lap easily. You let out a little oof but even though you blush and look around but no one is watching the alpha quite literally manhandle you close to him. Then again, you aren't the only omega in the room sitting on someone's lap.

Jimin is not good with words when he's not talking to Tae (maybe that just means he's not good at words period). Jimin speaks with his body, says please stay and I'm sorry for more than you know, more than we can say here.

If I could, I'd go back and change everything. make sure that I never treated you so coldly at the beginning, that none of us did.

Jimin feels more guilt than is necessary over the pack's initial treatment of you, but who could have known that you'd end up meaning so much to them? That as your words grew, so would their love.

Jimin speaks with his body sometimes, and now, he’s holding you like just your words were enough to get him into a frenzied. He holds you so gently like just having you in his hands will damage you, Jimin knows from experience that breaking things can often feel like fixing them.

"Sorry! sorry, I just-" He pulls back just a hair, just enough to look into your eyes. You shift across his lap, the button of his pants digging into your outer thigh. “I can get a little intense sometimes. I don’t want to freak you out but I feel like I don’t have good control of my instincts around you.” he admits.

Have I ever? Is this ever going to get easier?

His fingers hook into the pleats of your skirt and he grimaces, blushing at how he just literally picked you up and got you close without thinking of if you wanted it- if you’d be comfortable by such a public display of affection.

He waits, waits to see if you’ll squirm out of his lap, if you’ll blush and restore yourself to your careful distance between your bodies from before. Jimin has no Business monopolizing your affection- especially when you where on Tae’s side of the booth, when it’s probably only Tae that you want to cuddle like this.

But then, your arms tighten around his shoulders, keeping him close when he starts to pull back. You steal yourself, begging to be brave just this once.

“Who told you,” You say, balancing on his knee, you have to pull yourself closer to keep from sliding off. And it puts your mouth close to his ear and his neck, your breath caressing his skin.

“-That I didn’t want you to be intense with me?"

You let yourself loosen up held in his arms, you know that even if you started to slide off his lap, he'd still catch you. He does when you start to loosen your hold. Jimin’s shirt is a bit tight and it shows off his arms, you can feel every inch of the muscle on them as they circle your back. He’s muscular but then again, it’s his job to look imposing and protective.

"What are you gonna do? Something stupid to let every other alpha here know I'm Namjoon’s? Or would you rather pretend for a night that I'm just yours and Tae’s?”

Jimin growls, the noise jumping out of his throat at just the suggestion, the picture you paint- if you just belong to just him and if it was his mark at your throat.

There are more than a few words you won't say to Jimin. His eyes flash dangerously and his adam's apple bobs with the strength of his swallow to keep the growl down. His voice rumbles and ripples in a way that you can feel in your bones.

He leans in close, nudging your nose with his, “You have no idea, what me intense looks like.” Jimin’s hand comes up tentatively to cup your face. You feel drunk on his scent, or maybe a little high, you know that he feels the same, that with every inhale his heart beats quicker.

“Humor me, might as well try it out, just for tonight, right?”

“Just for tonight,” Jimin echoes, utterly transfixed by you. You can’t say you don’t feel the same. It's such a nice feeling to feel coddled, to feel babied and taken care of. To trust that whatever your little heart desires, Jimin will give it to you.

You don't necessarily need it, but it’s been a long time since you’ve felt powerful- since you’ve felt capable. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel both protectable and powerful, discerned and devoured. Something intoxicating in the way you can see him measuring the people behind you, poised to engage with threats real and imaginary.

Your eyes flutter up to look at what he’s looking at. At the bar, Tae chats with the bartender; maybe complimenting her on her hair (a short neon pink buzz cut) or something else. Tae has always been fast to make friends with the strange ones.

(Though tae has mastered her farce, that doesn't mean she's as dangerous as every other cis person. And it's the result of some in vain hope- that the strangers of the world and those that exist in pockets will one day accept her too.)

But then you see the small collection of drinks that Tae’s gotten, a beer and 3 different fruity drinks. A pair of the 'write drunk, edit sobers' that had so drawn her eyes, what looks to be just an ordinary (but rebranded) espresso martini.

You shoot off of Jimin's lap stumbling to your feet, and so does Jimin, whatever spell cast between you broken. “I should help Tae.” You’re darting off into the crowd before Jimin can tell you to stay put. But really would you have listened?

Before you can go more than a few paces you run straight into a wide and muscular chest. The alpha from the smell of him (ambery- thick and red-brown, if red could have a scent) isn’t much taller than Yoongi. His arm blocks your path, leaning across your path and onto a table. He sends you a grin that must give him more than a few numbers in spoils. He reminds you of a pirate- if pirates had silver hair a shade too purple from over toning.

“Judging from the look of that alpha you certainly have a thing for scary ones. I’ll let you know I’m twice as scary as he could ever be.” His grin would be charming if it weren’t for the way that his canines glimmer- a little too sharp for you to feel at ease.

You avert your eyes, taking a step back, “I can be scary enough on my own, thanks.”

You try to step around the stranger but he steps with you, blocking your path, “come on, at least let me buy you a drink.”

You don’t meet his eyes, but you try not to let him steamroll you. Tae is only 5 paces away with her back still turned, if she were to only turn around and see you she'd realize in a moment that you needed her help. Alphas never listen, well none of them do but your alphas; Jin has them remarkably well trained.

Which reminds you, you don't think you've seen a text from him in a minute, you were kind of looking forward to a ‘sorry I missed you text’ or maybe a cheekier ‘good luck on your date pup, give Minnie a good luck kiss from me too’ text. You didn't notice anything wrong with him this morning, anything that might cause you to worry.

Maybe work's just busy... maybe he's home already and he's wrapped up in Hobi and Namjoon's arms. Sleeping off the stress of work in preparation of tomorrow and oblivious to the notifications on his phone.

You try to copy a little bit of Jin's snark, or maybe it's your own that comes forward. You're proud to admit that your voice only barely shakes. “Geeze, a guy who claims to be dangerous asking to buy a girl a drink. I’ve never heard that one end poorly before.”

The alpha blanches. “Am I really that stereotypical?”

“Not yet but you’re toeing the line.”

“Hopefully you won't hold it against me, let me buy you that drink to apologize. My name's Jackson, by the way.”

“You could run face-first into the point and you'd still miss it.” you add, infusing the words with as much sarcasm as you can, “and I don’t think I need to know your name.”

You’re tired of this; you want to know nothing of this stranger. And luckily enough for you, a familiar arm encircles your waist before he has a chance to reply. You feel the tell-tale shift in your own body that says Minnie that speaks to safe harbors both familiar and old. Just like Jimin's instincts recognize you as his, so do yours recognize the safety of an alpha that will never willingly or willfully hurt you.

Jimin isn’t afraid to meet the eyes of this alpha. The way the smell of amber instantly dims in his presence makes you feel no small amount of satisfaction. Jimin's fingers dig into your ribs a tiny bit, but the contact is just firm enough for your fear to instantly fade. Jimin will handle him, you busy yourself by nuzzling into his shoulder.

Jimin is silent as he glares, unnervingly so.

“What, no comeback scary boy?” he throws in his direction, but it sounds limp even to you. You lean into Jimin’s arm thankfully. Your alpha snorts, jaw tensing like he's holding back another growl.

“I think we both know a failed proposition when we see it,” Jimin smirks, “my omega is fine with my company this evening, she certainly won't be needing any of yours.” Even though he must be a few inches shorter than the other alpha he still manages to take up more space.

My omega. The words bring a blush to your face, and when he looks down at you his eyes are cat-like in their intensity, it’s only then that he growls, showing his teeth a little too wide. “Do you need anything from him pup?”

You couldn’t look away from Jimin if you wanted to, “no alpha.”

If Jackson had a tail, it would be tucked between his legs as he goes to rejoin his boisterous bunch of alphas near the bar. Tae comes from the opposite side Just in time to avoid the unpleasantness. Oblivious to the near confrontation and narrowly avoiding dropping your drinks on the small tray, keeping her eyes fixed on the shaking glasses.

“Did I ever tell you that I was a waiter in college?”

Jimin takes the tray from her effortlessly, stopping what looks like a mimosa from tipping over. “I only lasted a week.” You bark a laugh and the lights overhead flicker announcing the start of the poetry performances, you’re quick to take your seats.

Tae describes each of the drinks and proposes you share them to get a better idea of what bar drinks taste like, a little taste test of the bar's best. You've been drunk before with Tae and you've tasted alcoholic drinks but you've never been to a bar, never clinked glasses with her and been offered sips chased with "try this one’s," and “this used to be my favorite until college.” Your little suprised noises are so cute they make Jimin's toes curl, watching the two of you like you're the real entertainment of the evening.

The scent of many people and alcohol bothers you less the more you sit here, though maybe that's just your proximity to Tae and Jimin. You shiver, and Jimin immediately notices, taking off his jacket and handing it over to you. You settle it over your legs, as much as you thought the long socks would be enough to keep you warm, this room is air-conditioned to high heaven.

The only ones that are the same on Tae's little tray are the dainty little espresso martinis; but a mimosa, a vodka cranberry, and something called a peach surprise also litter the tray. Jimin plucks a water with lemon from the center, two others for you and Tae there too.

You and Tae clink your glasses and Minnie sips his water, and then when you insist, he clinks his with yours too. After a little plying Jimin at least tries the espresso martini. His eyebrows raising as the taste runs over his tongue. You have to look down at your drink to keep yourself from watching too carefully as Jimin's tongue pokes between his lips licking the last little bit.

Are these drinks strong, or is it just the attention that has heat rising to your cheeks? He casts a regretful look at the glass and says next time he’ll have Namjoon or one of the others drive.

There is some sort of schedule a roster, or playbill of which poets might speak when. Once the Mc wrangles everyone into relative quiet they begin, although the quiet background noise of whispered conversations will remain for the duration of the performances.

The words start slowly like the beginnings of a melody overlapping. Some poems are shorter and only minutes long whereas other poets wax for what feels like hours. Your murmured conversations aren’t the only ones but you’re mostly quiet for Tae who turns her face up to the light and basks in the words eyes bright. Her breath timed with each of the poet's exhales so that the words might linger on her tongue, sometimes you watch her mouthing them- and realize that they must not all be original works.

Each performance takes you closer and closer to the end of the night, and the open mic section of the evening, do you notice her fidgeting increasing? Her nervousness rising? Or are you too busy being in love with her to notice.

Tae never imagined a single sheet of paper could feel so heavy in her pocket, but she catches herself reaching in and checking to make sure it’s still there more than once.

You and Minnie are not quite in love with words the same way Tae is, but seeing her like this is almost enough to make you declare it outright. You share more than one besotted glance when Tae shakes with particular excitement, animated during the ones she likes and a little teary-eyed during the particularly romantic ones.

The table is wide, but not wide enough that you can’t feel Jimin’s thigh between yours. Or that you can’t lean across it to speak softly into his ear, the table digging into your stomach as you go. “I understand, I understand why you’d do anything for Tae.” Jimin turns to you, and you watch his eyes soften.

The drinks are good, you like the fruity ones but you savor them slowly, worried about not knowing your tolerance. After the third performance Jimin catches you shivering again and he beckons you over and Tae gets up so that you can switch sides.

He doesn’t let you return to sitting by yourself again instead pulling you into his lap again so that you can lean against his chest. His arms smoothing up and down your sides to warm you up, inadvertently rubbing his scent glands on his wrists into the fabric too. Something tells you that it’s his instincts and the threat of so many strange alphas that are making him act so possessive.

It's a little easier to talk to Minnie quietly since Tae's substantially distracted by the woman on the stand as she speaks, her diction practiced and each line of the words she speaks measured in sweet breaths like you can taste the love she has for this person on the air.

“And I know you did not give me permission to, but I already started asking god about you. I told him, if he doesn’t mind, I’d like to make it to heaven before you do.”

Maybe the drinks are strong and that's why you melt into his arms. He makes a noise in his throat, a tiny little growl, and holds you tighter. Scenting along your shoulder. Even though you already smell a lot like him and Tae, a good scenting would do you good although the act might be a little too intimate for a public setting.

30 years ago the act of scenting in public was considered outright public indecency the same way kissing and holding hands was 50 years ago, but it's considered on par with making out in public these days.

If Jimin were drunk, he'd already have scented you and would have dragged you into it in front of that alpha just to prove a point. See it's my scent that she wears, mine that she likes to nest with, mine mine mine.

Your nose pokes the junction between his jaw and his ear, and Jimin almost wants to sigh in relief. "Your instincts acting up again Minnie?" You tease shyly.

His hands smooth up and down your skirts, skimming close to the hem but not quite touching there just yet. It's not an unwelcome touch, and he does it almost without thinking, mindlessly stimming with you.

"Maybe, we've got an audience of our own pup." It only takes a second for you to find the source of his angst. The alpha from before (what was his name?) turns away when you catch him watching across the bar. Your cheeks are warm but Jimin doesn't stop his touching, you don't have to look to know that he's giving the alpha the stare down. That Jimin's piercing glare has found its next victim.

But then the next moment, his hands are receding from your body like a pretty piece of sea glass abandoned by the tide. A small whine rises in your throat, and Jimin freezes. He gulps at his water and when he goes to put his hand back on the table you grab it, feeling bold, and return it to its rightful place on your thigh.

"I thought we agreed not to hold back tonight." Is what you want to say, but instead you blurt-

"I'm wearing lingerie." Jimin snorts his water, "-for you and Tae."

Jimin holds his face in two hands, but even that doesn't keep his pink cheeks from poking through. Melting forward onto the table and taking a swig of your mimosa for strength.

It even draws Tae's attention, pulling her away from the poetry to reach for Jimin's hand across the table. "You okay?" Tae whisper yells, eyeing both of your expressions with mute curiosity. But she looks a little hazy; her espresso martini is already drained. She hasn't picked up on your flirting at all or maybe it's so expected that she doesn't find it surprising.

"Fine- I'm fine" Jimin chokes, and Tae goes back to watching when Jimin stops coughing.

You think you're done- already starting to slide off Jimin's lap but then his hands go firm and rough on your hips, keeping you where you are. Every eye in the bar is on the woman who performs- everyone but yours, Minnie’s, and the other alpha.

"Just for us pup?" Jimin's lips brush against your ear when he leans forward. "If we were alone, I'd ask to see, but as it is I'd rather just feel you." His teeth dig into your earlobe, nipping and making you gasp. your scent fluffs even thicker and more intoxicating if that's even possible. Jimin is a glutton when it comes to you and your hips falling open at just the suggestion equally as indulgent in the fantasy.

That need not be fantasy. From this angle, very few people can see what Jimin's doing under the table let alone that they're under your skirt. Really- it's just the other pitiful pathetic alpha that watches, and Jimin would be lying if he didn't feel the near rabid with the need to prove to you that it’s a good think you’re his.

"Can I pup?" Jimin’s thumb is pressing hard into the top of your thigh, you wonder if he’d leave bruises when he fucked you. If he’d like claiming marks like that.

You're so keyed up it's unbelievable, you haven't wanted someone this much in a long time, maybe since Yoongi. Jimin is very very good at letting you know where the edges of your control lie. He grabs your wrist when you reach back for him. Placing it in his hair, back arched, head tipped along his shoulder both of you drowning in shadows, private if only for the darkness of the bar and the light from the street spilling through the window. Headlights that pass illuminating your bodies.

“Tug when you want me to stop, when i go too far.”

"Please Minnie-Please just-"

Your needy whines would be loud if you didn't bite them back as Jimin's hand creep up and up, slowly increasing the combing of his hands. Going further and further with each pass, letting your skin sing with each increasingly bold touch.

Jimin leans closer as the woman on the stand continues to speak. The words washing over you like the wanting. You are not drunk, not too drunk to feel uncomfortable with the way he touches you, just an inch over the line of proper and maybe entirely improper with the tiny broken whines that spill from your lips.

Fuck- maybe he actually is high on your scent.

“To run your bathwater, to make you a plate,"

Jimin's palms rest on your hip bones hidden by your skirt, just a touch closer, and then back down. You watch the other alpha gulp, and you wish you could watch Jimin’s face instead.

"To turn the tv to your favorite channel,"

Jimin's hand brushes just for a second, the tips of his fingers pressing between your thighs, over the silkly softness of your lace, just in the centre, a bold touch and one that wreches a gasp from your chest. you jump at the contact-

"And make you believe you left it that way.”

-And back up right into Jimin's hardness, poking at your backside, thick and hot and hard. Slick spills, tickling at your core and making you tingle with wanting. The scent of it is thick and intoxicating into the air, so heavenly and honey-like that Jimin growls, unbitten.

If he touched you again, his hand would come away damp.

your hand goes ridged in his hair without you realizing it- making a loud whine spill from your lips as his hands retract, even though he’d told you he’d stop when you pulled, you still wanted it. Wanted more.

Luckily, the sound of your whines and growls are perfectly timed as the bar erupts with applause and Tae gives it a standing ovation, but by the time she turns back you and Minnie are sipping at your drinks.

You and Jimin match, pink cheeks and pink up to his brow. Does it feel forbidden for Jimin to touch you right under Tae's nose? Have they talked about it? Does Jimin know the way you've been touched by Tae or will that be another delightful discovery? Your chest heaves and though you lift the glass to your lips you don't take a sip.

Jimin finishes his water and starts his second one. “Give me a taste of your peachy thing” Jimin takes one swallow, makes a face, and gives it back to you.

“No? You don’t like it?” You’re kind of offended- you really like it. Maybe Jin would learn how to make it if you asked him. Jin seems like the kind of person to like mixed drinks, you’d like to get drunk with him one day.

Jimin shakes his head, hair fluffing in front of his eyes a little bit, finally looking the tiniest bit ruffled. “It's not to my taste.”

“What is to your tastes then Jimin?”

Tae's eyes roll to the ceiling, god you're gonna be in trouble if you keep talking to Minnie like that, but Tae's soulmate giggles, a little uninhibited, the cute noise that more often than not has Jimin falling out of chairs, the particular lilt to it the same one he gets when he's feeling a little scent high...

Tae's eyes narrow.

The answer is simple, “you.” Your giggle is from the charm of his company than the alcohol. You sip at your drinks slowly. His gaze darts away his smile satisfied. “Only If it’s on the table of course.”

Jokingly, you get up, planting your ass on the table for a second and making the glasses and their liquids tinkle, before you return to his arms with a quiet oof, laughing and tucking your face into his neck. Tae likes the joke, her little huffing laugh that makes both you and Minnie feel like you've won something and Jimin nuzzles closer into your neck. Scenting you ever so slightly again just for good measure.

Tae watches you, swirling the champagne around in her glass to better mix it with the orange juice at the bottom. "What's your favorite?" she asks, exhaling her humor and letting contentment build. You two are so cute, tae almost has a mind to cross the table and join you.

Minnie’s looking so so so scent high too, and Tae reminds herself to be watchful. Getting scent high is more common in pack alphas and alphas like Jimin. It’s not anything too too worrisome- it’s not like being actually high- but still. Getting scent high makes alphas like Jimin say “how high” when omegas like you ask them to jump.

You hum, unaware of the power you hold with your cheek pressed to Jimin's neck. "I think I like the fruity ones, maybe the mimosa if it had more orange."

Jimin almost wants to growl at you displeasure, anything that would leave his omega displeased worth his agression. He should have scented you fully before you left home. Enough that this stupid alpha wouldn't worm his way under Jimin's skin, wouldn't make him itch to take you over the table. To have you dripping of him and not just for him. only a scent mark like that would Leave no question to any alpha that might smell you that you belong to him.

Would you like it? The way your hips part as you settle back down and the next poem begins makes him think that you would. You sit splayed like you're leaving room for Jimin’s hands on you.

A fresh burst of air from the door opening clears Jimin’s head, and for the rest of the performances, his hands remain separated from their home between your thighs.

After the music performance and a few more poems, the night is starting to drag on and as much as you like sitting in this booth with Tae and Jimin, the sugar and the vodka are starting to turn your stomach. Yoongi made you eat something earlier but you still get progressively dizzier and more animated, a cuddled bundle pressed to Jimin’s side.

You're a bit of a clingy drunk leaning into him with your legs sat perpendicular across his lap. (Mot that Jimin would call you drunk quite yet). You're more just a tipsy cuddle bunny) but not an inch of Jimin minds; not when he can run his hands up and down your waist as much as he wants with you pliant in his lap. Sneakily rubbing his scent gland against you again and again until his skin feels a little raw.

You might also not be drunk because Tae has been doing the lion's share of drinking for you, the espresso martini the champagne, and the beer all gone by the time the music performance starts. Jimin doesn't have the heart to tell Tae to slow down.

The other week, when Taehyung got so drunk he vomited, Jimin had chastised himself for not spotting it right away, that Tae was too far gone, had trodden over that imaginary line of too much and not enough. Tonight- he'll watch his soulmate like a hawk- make sure that the drink he holds now is his last.

But maybe he shouldn't say anything at all, maybe saying anything will only caution the uncomfortableness to return. That’s the last thing he wants- especially since this is the first night in a long time thats felt normal.

His touches remain furiously chaste on you. Not quite as careless as he was before especially as you start to drink more. Jimin is supposed to be the sober one here. Supposed to be the one with restraint, but it's hard with the way your body begs for his touch and your constant squirming any time his touch starts to drift from your skin.

You’re leaning your chin against Jimin's shoulder and enjoying the simple pleasure of his company and the warmth of your alpha, while he and Tae gossip about Jimin’s job after the performance of the better-than-you-thought-he'd-be shaggy-haired alpha on his lone guitar, the music a welcome respite from the constant words.

It’s then that the MC steps up to the stage, quieting the crowd which has gotten progressively louder. “And now we’d like to open up the floor to anyone who might have something of their own to share for tonight.”

Like it's the moment she's been waiting for Tae turns to you and in quick succession presses a soft kiss to your lips, winks at Minnie, and then stands.

"Tae what are you-" but she just sends Minnie a shy smile as she makes long strides to get to the stage first, beating out several other hopefuls and revealing a small folded piece of paper from her own pocket. The mc hands out numbers scrawled on small little dinner placards- and Tae gets the first one.

Jimin moves to stand and accompany Tae, depositing you safely onto the seat but you bob almost falling, holding onto Jimin as you need him to stand, the blood rushing to your head.

Jimin sends a conflicted glance in Tae's direction, then yours.

"Maybe we should just sit, what's he doing?" Jimin's voice is nearly wounded. Worried and drenched in fear for his soulmate.

"I don't know," you take Tae's seat and Jimin sits on the edge of the booth. Jimin makes quick work moving your and Tae's collection of half-finished drinks to the uninhabited side of the booth. Giving you his water and telling you to drink. He's poised to stand should Tae need him to, watching his soulmate with watchful eyes, this entire situation completely foreign to him.

Things don't often feel new to Jimin and Tae.

Jimin and Tae who are two trees planted close together left to grow into each other until two root systems become one. Jimin and Tae who are like sour and sweet candies. Like the line between the ocean and the sky, not even a horizon between the two of them.

Because Tae never lets anyone read her writing.

She never even speaks more than one or two lines at a time- if they happen to taste particularly good on her tongue or she needs help with the order of them. Sometimes- in Jimin's treasured moments, she'll say a few, Jimin's head in Taehyung's lap and Tae's ruddy soul left to filter through the air, as close to honest as she ever dares.

She saves her words for all but the most hidden moments, her feelings special and secret and only for her consumption no matter Jimin's begging. It's been years- years and years since Jimin learned not to ask about Tae's poetry- learned not to ask for things that were not given. One of their few boundaries.

Tae most certainly does not do poetry readings.

Jimin straightens, his knuckles rolling against the table anxiously watching tae wait as the Mc forms the other hopefuls into a small line.

There is a second reason why Tae never ever shares her poems with people. A dreaded reason that many people do not consider when they write their souls down, contain them, and bottle them onto paper for someone to sip at. The ink that stains the mouth and turns a reader's teeth bloody with your soul.

All writers know that there is only one way to ensure you do not die alone.

When you guide people from scene to scene and force them to see the world as you see it. When you let someone in, in that way- it's to have them feel the way you breathe and where you might pause if you spoke. To let someone know what it's like to live through you, to want the same things that you want, the daydreams that become yours together and not just yours alone.

Tae has always thought reading someone's poetry and their favorite stories is far more intimate than reading a diary. It tells you more about a person than how they view the world or how it makes them feel. With writing, you can understand how it hurts them, how they ache, and how to heal them all wrapped up into a short few words.

Intimacy is rarely so pretty and yet so raw.

How many words is Jimin worth, a thousand? Fifty thousand? A million? Or is love more infinite than that? A faucet that never stops dripping, a river that never runs dry.

Tae has exactly two hundred and fifty-five words for you right now, though that’s a pity few with what she could write and certainly not the last batch of words she will whip up with you in mind. It’s a good thing that Tae was drinking or else she might not have enough courage to actually do this, to spill her soul onto these floors and mop up the consequences later.

Her knees shake and her hair puffs up behind her ear in a cowlick. “Sorry- sorry” the mic screeches, Tae's hair is a little halo and her shoulders look bright white beneath the spotlight, her face drowned in shadow. Jimin looks poised to stop anyone that might dare pop the bubble that is Tae by not allowing her to continue even though she takes a good ten seconds to begin.

The crowd quiets down and Tae tries not to feel nervous, failing horribly as her knees start to shake. She has a small piece of paper clutched in her fist; wrinkled and worn like she spent hours poring over it- trembling like a leaf in a downpour too. Tae’s voice cracks over the first line, the words coming out timid at first and then stronger.

“My love is nothing like a meal.”

Someone in the crowd clears their throat as Tae pauses, the sheet in In front of her stilling as she gets her words under her. “-For she is all for me. She is not just a piece to share,

"My love is not just cups of coffee or chosen spoonful’s of sugar, she is not just syrup sweet or candy made cotton, though you might perhaps confuse her soul with something so soft-

Tae's voice builds slowly in its momentum, her shoulders relaxing from their pinched-up poison the more her feelings spill but it's nothing you don't already know, nothing that you haven't felt before.

“No- my love is not freshly broken bread, or sweet favor given from honey to flower. My love is not one part of anything- like vanilla to bean. She is not chocolate, because something so treasured would not dare melt on her lips. My love is nothing like a meal.

“-But a dessert? Now that might earn your favor.”

You can’t stop your small giggle, other people in the bar laugh too. your eyes are locked on tae, you don’t glance to see Minnie's reaction or the movement at your peripherals. You're on the receiving end of more than a few looks, the people who know what table Tae came from, who follow the path of her eyes and find them locked on your.

Jimin wishes he could bottle the way that you look or take a photo without being obvious and missing your moment, standing poised with a hand over your mouth to hide your smile, your lashes brushing your lower cheek for only milliseconds when you blink, breath baited and caught on Tae's every word.

Jimin feels thankful to have a front-row seat and see this, falling in love with Tae never gets old. They're no stranger to accepting another person into their love. It's kind of unfortunate that this is the last time that they'll be allowed to do this. Somehow, Jimin thinks that there will be no one permanent after you. Friends maybe- but lovers?

Never.

Maybe you are the keystone to Tae's happiness, the final piece of the puzzle that is Taehyung's perfect life- the only life that Jimin has ever wanted for his soulmate.

“My love aches and something blooms. My love speaks and butterflies find it safe enough to hatch. My love loves and I am left completely bare of all my armor, but you are not my fatal flaw or my Achilles heel,

"My love my love my love- my beautiful love”

She glances up at you and blushes so hard that she has to hide her face with the edge of the paper. "You are nothing but the tenderest of things possible, love made life and cupids arrow sharper, the breath before a first kiss made human.

Tae's voice goes a hair edge more serious and you never would have expected her next words to break your heart. To feel it crumble beneath the weight of all your hope, where I your atlas I'd hold you up- But as it is, Jimin is already holding himself back.

"I have never felt beautiful.” tae’s face is hung, eyes closed, her deep brow shielding her eyes from the light.

“Because even ugly people have something beautiful about them. The way they smile or the way they sing, the jokes they tell or the stories they bring,

Tae swallows and puts down the sheet of paper, no longer needing to read from it, and only needing to look at you. “But I think the only thing beautiful about me, is you."

"I am the person you have chosen to love."

A hush has fallen over the crowd, no one dares to breathe or move. Your eyes are swimming with tears, you don’t know when you stood up but it’s all rushing to you at the moment, but you won't go to Tae until she's finished.

“And that makes me a most beautiful thing too.”

The paper in her hands falls away and She doesn’t even see the crowd with you in front of her stumbling forward, a short 4 feet and 2 paces from the stage.

But both of you stand in silence, the weight of her words and all their delightful edges between you paused until someone in the crowds shouts- punctuating the silence-

“Just kiss her already!"

The room could be empty of just the two of you and it would still feel the same. Just the two of you standing alone as you did in the dressing room, confessions of love and kisses coming. Tae will confess her love for you a hundred thousand times, again and again just to get it right.

Tae stumbles off the stage and you meet her in the middle- The kiss is cacophonous and echoic, Tae's sweat-damp cheeks pressed to yours and one hand gripping the back of your head to deepen it with a sweet roll of her tongue against yours. Never mind your lipstick and how it smudges, her lips on yours hot and furious and candy to the semi intoxicated crowd as she spins you in her arms. You barely hear the sound of the bar erupting with applause over the thunder of your heartbeat.

The kiss ends and the Mc snatches the mic out of Tae’s hands before she has the chance to drop it in favor of holding you. Tae is quick to vacate the small stage, a few wolf whistles accompanying you but none too lewd.

You pull her face down to yours, lips bitten and kissed pink- that will be kissed raw by the end of the night. “Tae- you- the poem-”

“did you like it? I know it wasn’t my best but-” you just about tackle her and screw the watching eyes as you plant a lipstick heavy kiss squarely over her cheek- smudges be damned. You’ve done a good job of making her lips a little rosier just by kissing her too. Your lips leave the perfect little print on her cheek, you add another to her other side just for good measure.

One person is clapping the loudest; Minnie, still standing and grinning at the two of you, you and Tae dash to him, trading other kisses and in the crowded rancor of people. It’s easy for them to sneak a kiss, for Minnie's arm to settle one around your waist and the other around Tae's.

But this kisses don’t last forever, as more than one person bounds up to compliment her on her words and her poem. A small little gaggle of people who want to talk to her.

You and Jimin share a small smile and he pecks at your mouth while Tae enjoys the attention, shoulders knitting up to her ear in shyness. Growing more and more comfortable when she realizes that no one has anything negative to say only positive things.

Do you have any printed copies? How about a card? can you write your email down? Do you have a blog where you share the things you write?

You and Jimin watch as The Mc approaches Tae and asks if she'll be available next month, as a scheduled speaker.

You return to kissing jimin as Tae basks in the attention, the other poems starting up in the background. Your kisses get hungry quickly, spurred on by the dizzying delight of Tae's words.

There is so much Jimin wants to say that gets swallowed by the kisses. Seeing Tae kiss you only makes Jimin curious, what does it feel like to kiss you with tongue, to make them sweeter? To nibble with his teeth? What is your taste like when combined with Tae’s?

Thank you for making Tae feel that way, thank you for making her feel safe enough to share that much of her soul.

But also,

How did you do that? How did you get her to love you just as much as she loves me so quick? Teach me your secrets. Any way to Tae I will listen and study and love for. Jimin's hands are safe when they hold you- the precious thing that has made Tae feel beautiful.

Jimin didn't know that was a thing Tae wanted. Strong, safe, capable, happy- sure those things are an easy laundry list that Jimin can check off one after the other. But beautiful? Jimin is a tangle of emotions, love for you, and abject jealousy messing with thankfulness.

The back of Jimin's hand, his knuckles, rolls against your cheek as he pulls back for a second hungry kiss, looking and searching your eyes for something of substance before he presses his lips back to yours. He licks into your mouth searching for a hit of Tae's taste.

Jimin's hands-on you are the boldest they've ever been, hands under your skirts squeezing greedy handfuls of your thighs, not that you care, tucked into your forgotten corner in your booth. His hand grabs the outside of your thigh, the tips of his fingers tickling the band of your underwear. Without wondering and without asking, you hook your fingers into his belt loops, pulling his hips closer.

The growl Jimin lets out makes several alphas nearby turn, ears piked, but they give you a wide birth. Jimin needs to breathe, separating your lips with a pop, huffing little breaths into the crook of your shoulder, teeth nibbling.

You look back at the crowd and find Tae in some deep conversation with another poet, one of the ones that went up first, shaking her hand. She casts one glance over her shoulder at you, winking.

How did you end up here, Jimin's body covering yours in the booth?

"Do you know," Jimin whispers low in your ear, dragging your attention back to him, "how hard it is to hold back around you two?" Jimin's lips brush your neck. "Especially when everyone's looking at the two of you like that?"

Jimin abandoned his whispered platitudes in favor of pinning your skin between his teeth and sucking on the sweet skin of your neck. Tongue rolling against your scent gland. It only makes you grab the front of his shirt more, fingers knotting in the fabric. Biting back little mewling noises as he sucks a bruise into the sensitive skin under your ear.

There- now with you substantially marked Jimin's alpha can relax just a bit. But maybe another just for good measure. He sucks a second mark pressing you back into the leather.

Would you let Jimin suck a claiming mark on each body part so that everyone knows every inch of you is his? Would you let him claim you? Suddenly Jimin's alpha is frantic with the need to make sure you stay here.

You blink, breathing heavily as Jimin sucks and sucks, lips parting to lick occasionally at the marks. You blink dully watching Tae's back in the crowd. She casts a bemused smile in your direction and moves to block you and Minnie from view, fingers reaching back from where she sits to rub against your ankle.

Your eyes flash to the crowd, searching for disgusted eyes, anything that would make you want to stop. It's not that you don't want this but- you are in public. And the way Jimin is touching you says that tonight is going to be short-lived. minutes now, and he'll swoop you out of this bar and away.

But not everything can go to plan.

The first thing you see is the long skirt, and black tulle fluffing around high-heeled shoes. Black, shiny in the way that designer Louis Vuitton's are shiny. And then in the crowd, a flash of red lipstick, a not dissimilar shade of yours that is now mostly smudged across Jimin's lips and Tae's cheeks.

You glance, then- recognizing the lilt of her smile, her face- you feel like a cold bucket of water has just been dropped over you, extinguishing any pleasure as Jimin growls out something that sounds suspiciously like “mine” against your skin.

“Hyejinie!”

Her smile is happy, if not a little strained, blinking back something that looks suspiciously like tears as she looks down at you tangled with some filthy alpha. You and Jimin disengage, as your alpha turns, turns to see who you're calling- the only name on your tongue should be his and Tae's. Not a stranger.

Hyejin isn't alone; no alpha would let their omega go out alone on a Friday night unaccompanied. Behind her, another familiar face lingers in the crowd, half covered in shadow. hands in her pockets, looking at you like a school teacher looks at a student caught cheating.

Moonbyul.

~-~

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whysojiminimnida · 2 years

Note

https://mobile.twitter.com/rfmfm13/status/1470653265125994498 hello YSJ, have we discussed about this here? Isn't this a big deal ? JK's hat (including hat with his name on it ) displayed in Jimin's dad's cafe. Now it's not there but yesterday a army went there and that supreme one is still kept there. I saw some trying to say other members hats are also kept there like tae. But I didn't saw anyone confirming it, nor jikookers or karmy or tae biased army. Only very few salty people are saying it.

Well hi anon!

Your link:

I am just now cracking open the inbox after WEEKS of simply Not Having The Wherewithal so it was nice that the question on top was fun - thanks, anon! Come on back anytime. Give yourself a name. ANYWHO here we are at Magnate in Busan, owned by Jimin's father:

Note the stylized A's. Whatever do they LOOK LIKE JUNGKOOK'S KNUCKLE TATS? Some of y'all still out here talking about that means V when his father-in-law used the same A on his cafe' sign. Derp. Most of you already know that Jimin's parents had their coffee shop relocated (I think) and completely redone in the last year or two. Most of us have seen the wonderful Jimin and Jungkook pics that adorned the old place:

And my personal favorite "Fuck yeah that's our son and his magic backside and also his boyfriend, we're down, we're so down we enlarged it and HUNG IT ON THE WALL"

And some folk wonder if Jimin is really as close with his parents, especially his father, as he would have us believe. Answer: YES. Yes he is because HOW COOL ARE THEY. They are so cool that I firmly believe that they see Jungkook as their son-in-law, for all intents and purposes.

The new Magnate interior is larger, and kinda sleek and much higher budget, and their designer went with hats on shelves:

And as people touch them and pose next to them ALL THE DAMN TIME they sometimes get moved around a bit or changed. Personally I'd have the stuff under alarmed glass but the Parks are nicer than I am. Most of the hats are Jimin's or Jungkook's. I honestly don't know about the blue and yellow beanies, though. The white one is Jimin's and then we have:

And here's the hat display as of last week:

So some inventory has gotten moved around. I swear I would not be shocked to learn that the Parks just go home and get into Jimin's old room and grab hats, but I suspect his parents are savvy enough to be able to tell you not only by whom, but when each of those hats was worn. Contextually if not by date. And unless I am very much mistaken, NONE of those hats are Taehyung's. The straw ones are, I think, Jimin's mom and dad's hats. Which makes sense since they OWN THE PLACE. The rest are, I'm pretty sure, just Jimin's and Jungkook's. With the newer arrivals I need to go digging through pics again :)

#thanks nice anon #this one was fun #magnate #jimin #jungkook #park hyunsoo #park jimin #jeon jungkook #must be 2016 2022 at the jeon park house and shared workplace #that's jimin's dad #busan #magnate busan #hats #jimin's hats #jungkook's hats #those butter shades #lolita glasses

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clubdionysus · 5 months

Text

[BAD DECISION #20] - Park Jimin... Again

warnings: ohh this one hurts my heart! drinking, drunk hook-up, fingering, oral (m receiving), both parties are fully consenting but the OC is having a bit of a hard time mentally (head vs heart kind thing!), it makes me really sad for her reading it back :( anyways, one of the biggest B birds is tackled!!!! kinda!!! the smut isn't he he smutty smut!! more so mechanical! controversial opinion but one of my fave starluvrs chapters!!

soundtrack: seesaw - bts

wc: 6.8k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Hey," Jeongguk says quietly as he comes to stand beside you. You're standing behind the front desk at your work, watching on with subtle pride as Tae's event kicks into gear. Chatter pollutes the air, Tae's chosen choice of jazz music softly humming beneath the conversation.

Jeongguk's dressed well. More formal than you've ever seen him. A dark, silky shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, unbuttoned just enough to give you vivid flashbacks of your hand around his throat, nails scratching ever so gently at his skin. His usual silver chain sits prettily in place, but a second necklace hangs a little lower. As always, his hair is tousled in such a way it screams 'i woke up like this' - but you've seen him in the mornings. Know that he will have spent a solid half an hour perfecting the look.

On his feet are his trusty Chuck Taylors. Makes you laugh when you look down and see them next to your sparkly heels. You nudge against his shoes with your own. He does it back.

If you were to glance in the mirror in the far corner of the room, you'd notice how good you look together. Your dress is tight - a well-structured bodice with a low back and a straight skirt that finishes midway down your thighs - but chiffon billows around your arms. A subtle shimmer runs through the threads of the otherwise black fabric, and Jeongguk thinks it's fitting. Doesn't mention it, though.

Instead, he gently strokes the top of your back where your shoulder blades are far too tense. You're more poised than usual. It's stress, he thinks.

He'd be right in thinking that - but you smile regardless. Won't let anything dampen how well Tae's show is going.

Lights dim, the focus is all on the art pieces. Free champagne (which is really just prosecco but you're hoping no one will notice) is flowing, and appetisers are being eaten. The deli cafe a few floors below had agreed to do the catering, and you're thankful that they agreed to do it for a discount rate. You're barely breaking even with the launch event, but you hope that it will prove to be fruitful for Tae and the other artists in the future.

"Hey," you whisper right back, knocking your shoulder against him tenderly. "You good?"

He nods and hums a pretty little purr of confirmation. "You?"

You do the same back. It's not for a lack of wanting to engage in conversation, it's just that you know your social battery is gonna be worn down to the metal casing by the end of the evening, and so you're preserving your resources.

Jeongguk is aware of this. He always clocks it whenever you reached social capacity in the club - you'll sway instead of dance, and drunkenly walk away from people, favouring the bar instead of the dancefloor. He knows you've maybe got a solid six hours in you, but anything after that? He's not so sure.

"The place looks great," he tells you - and it really does.

For the launch night, you've optimised space and minimised the number of easels that are out. Furniture has been rearranged to create a natural flow for attendees to walk through, in order for each artist to have their work fully admired.

Tae's collection is the focal point, of course, but it's done in such a subtle way that most won't notice. The design of it all is smart - helped by Jimin's expertise in interior staging, brought to life by the brawn of Jeongguk and how he's able to move even the heaviest furniture with ease, and finished off with Tae's carefully crafted artwork.

They make for a great team.

Yoongi's custom-built frames and display units are perfect for the space, and Namjoon is by the entrance greeting critics he knows from other papers. Tae couldn't have surrounded himself with better people.

You think it's deserved. His work is gorgeous. If you had a spare penny, you'd invest in some. Know that he's destined for greatness, and that this is just the start of his professional career. If anything, you feel lucky to be a part of it all, no matter how small.

But see that's the thing - Taehyung always had these resources around him. Had it not been for you pulling them all together and actually using them, he never would have done. Not to the best of his ability, at least. You're just as important to this as the rest of them are.

Jeongguk couldn't be prouder - of you, of Tae, of what you've achieved. It's early and the night is young, but things are heading in the right direction. People are filtering in gradually. Half a dozen people have come off the street just to see what's going on.

"I think it's incredible, Byeol," Jeongguk says softly. "All of this... I just. Wow. Amazing."

"Stop," you laugh quietly. "Was a team effort."

He shakes his head. Thinks you're by far the most important piece of the puzzle.

"Yeah, well," he shrugs. "What's a team without a leader?"

You glance over at him, a little bemused by his appreciation.

He looks down at you and smiles, lip ring flipping ever so slightly in that way you adore so much. In the dull light behind the desk, a small speck of glitter twinkles on his shoulder.

"Here," you say as you reach over to pick it away, before dusting it off your fingers. "I fear I've cursed you with glitter."

Jeongguk shakes his head. Tells you he doesn't mind. He kind of likes the sparkles. Is still finding tiny reminders of you in his sheets. Makes him smile every time.

When he was sleeping with Hayun, it would be her lipstick that would stain his skin. His mugs, his sheets, his shirts, too.

Part of him wonders what permanence Jiyeong will hold.

Part of him kind of doesn't wanna find out.

But speak of the Devil and he doth appear - or think of Jiyeong, and sure enough, there she is by the entrance, speaking with Hoseok, who is handling entry.

She's dressed well - a navy blue dress hugs her enviable figure, which you know she's worked damn hard to achieve. Her hair is down, and her make-up is minimal; a natural beauty. Not a speck of glitter in sight.

"Ah, it does appear your princess has arrived, Prince Charming," you tease him with a little more pomp and poise than is needed, just to echo your point.

"Fuck off," he laughs - but heads on his way regardless.

You watch on as Jeongguk greets her, a hand in his pocket while the other scratches at the back of his head. He laughs, looks to the floor, then back up at her. When he smiles, his lip ring does the thing .

You look away. Find Tae in the crowd. Head for him instead.

Your palms feel a little clammy, and your head doesn't feel like it's screwed on properly, but there's no feasible reason to feel such a way. Belated nerves, maybe? It's a big night. Tae has a lot riding on it. Yeah. That must be it.

As you approach, with an extra champagne flute in hand to top him up, he beams at you.

Smile wide, Taehyung is every bit the schmoozer. He's been talking the ears off a local critic for the past ten minutes, and they've laughed at every joke.

It probably helps that he's dressed like the boy of everyone's fantasies; ivory shirt and dark slacks, lockets around his neck and dark hair pushed back to frame his portrait-worthy face. In a room full of priceless art, Kim Taehyung could be considered a masterpiece himself.

The thought glitters in your mind, illuminating the fact that you think this could apply to Jeongguk, too. You twist ever so slightly to look at him, but stop yourself. Your nosey tendencies can wait.

For now, Tae is babbling on about your contribution to the show, and you're far better off focusing on him. He's without an agent, so you're playing the role for now.

You don't really know what it all entails, but you've read a wikihow page and watched a couple of youtube videos. Know enough to get by. It's just to stop investors from thinking they can take advantage of Tae. You're protection, in a way, which is laughable.

"You've an eye for curation," a critic tells you, after Tae finishes bragging about your dedication to the show - but you shake your head.

"It's all Taehyung's genius," you smile. "He's an artist through and through, and it's his concepts we've brought to life. I'm merely a facilitator of his vision."

It's all so pompous. You hate the bullshit chatter, but know it's needed. So does Tae. You've never seen him so composed. He doesn't even falter when Danbi shows up half an hour later.

Though he does get a little giggly when she approaches him to gush about how beautiful his work is. He grins - and grins, and grins, and grins - and tells her that it's nothing. She tells him he's remarkable, and her words replay in his head for the rest of the night.

Kind of like how Jeongguk's hand on your back, the intrusive scent of his aftershave, and the thought of his lip ring doing the thing whenever he nibbles down on it, plagues yours. It's bizarre.

Realistically, you know it's because you're nervous, and have always sought comfort in him. If he were by your side, maybe you'd worry less about Tae impressing the critics. Maybe he'd joke with you about that one rogue piece of art neither of you really like.

Instead, he stands with Jiyeong, engaged in conversation with the Mins. If you were to be looking in his direction, you'd notice Seoyeon trying to catch your eye. 'Are you okay?' her nuanced gaze would ask, and you'd smile. Nod your head. Assure her that you're grand.

You refuse to let yourself linger. It's not healthy. Jeongguk is your friend. Dependency isn't cute on anyone.

But Jiyeong looks cute on his arm, and Jeongguk looks cute when he explains different art facts he's learnt from you to her. The recycled knowledge is wasted on a mind like Jiyeong's. Her interests lie elsewhere. It's not her kind of thing - but Jeongguk is her kind of man, so she nods along and is ever so pleasant.

When Nabi arrives, you're pleased to see her act just as frosty towards Jiyeong as she had towards you.

"Don't mind her," Jimin grins beside you as you watch the interaction with great curiosity. "Nabi is... Well, she's Nabi."

You smile. Jimin looks dashing as ever. Is wearing a thin knitted sweater with a pair of tight jeans hugging his toned legs. Chelsea boots accent his look, and you find yourself smiling at the predictability of him. His style differs from that of his friends, but you find that you quite like it.

His hair is perfectly permed to fall back off his face, showing off his dark eyes and cute little cheeks. He's paradoxical. Sweet and spicy all in one bite.

"She always like this?" You ask, not really caring if Jimin knows you don't feel so fondly towards her.

"Uh-huh," he nods. "She comes across as rude, but honestly I think she's just shy."

"Shy?" You sneer - but catch the unpleasant look on your face and try to soften it. The stress has made you a little snappy, and you don't like it.

"Shy," he nods again with a laugh. Finds your uncharacteristically sour face rather funny. "She's hot though, so everyone thinks she's being a dick. She'll warm up. She always does - you really think Seoyeon would be friends with her if she didn't?"

He's got a good point. Seoyeon is potentially the sweetest person you've ever met. You can't imagine her being friends with assholes - but then again, even assholes need friends. Seoyeon would always try and see the good in people, if she could.

"She scares me," you tell him. He hands you his champagne flute. It's half empty, but he thinks you need a drink. He's right.

"You scare her, probably. You're some random girl showing up all buddy-buddy with her oldest friends without warning," he says, trying to put it into perspective. "She gets back from visiting family abroad and BOOM . There's some girl riding shotgun in Jeongguk's car and helping with Tae's career in a way she never could. It's intimidating. She doesn't know her place anymore."

When he says it like that, you cringe. Feel guilty for being such a harsh judge towards her. Sure, Nabi had been rude, but you can't go through life expecting everyone to act in the same way you would. It's differences that make us interesting, after all.

"How long had been gone?" You ask quietly, knowing it's really none of your business.

"Six months," Jimin says. "Her grandparents live in Scotland. It's where she's been. You should ask her, yourself. Might be a good chance to get to know her."

You nod. Fold your arms across your chest. Decide you know far too much about this poor girl's personal life already. Anything else you learn, you would like it to be directly from her.

"Would she like to come out with us?" You offer. "After the show?"

Jimin smiles. "Probably. I'll ask."

When she glances over to you a little while later, Jimin clearly mentioning the invite, you smile. You think she smiles back, but it's hard to tell - though you can clearly see her nod.

You sigh a shallow breath of relief and are so focused on the interaction that you almost don't notice Jeongguk coming to stand beside you.

"Clock's not struck midnight yet, Charming," you hum when you smell his aftershave. "Where's your girl?"

He nudges his shoulder against yours and takes your champagne flute from your hand - your fifth of the night and counting - before knocking it all back in one swig.

"Couldn't stay. She's meeting friends, so we'll probably see her out tonight - if that's okay?"

"Yeah, sure," you say without hesitation. "Of course that's fine. It was really nice of her to come along."

Jeongguk nods. "Yeah. I think she enjoyed it."

You nod, too. It's a little awkward. Neither of you know how to navigate conversations about other people. You're coy; don't wanna ask too much.

"That's good," you smile. "Fancy another drink?"

"Please."

One drink turns into three, which turns into six. By the time the show has dwindled down to just the usual suspects, and Tae is popping a champagne bottle in celebration of an exhibition gone well, you're ready to hit the clubs.

Everyone is in good spirits.

There's not a single face without a smile as you head downtown, not to Dionysus, but to a bar just across the road. The boys are regulars here just as much, but it's a quieter vibe - small rooms that allow for a more private setting.

They instantly head towards one of the back coves. The room is tiny. Cramped. Dark. Stinks of beer and cigarette smoke. There are black sofas lining the walls, and you dread to think of what horrors they've seen as you sink down into one beside Jeongguk.

Not much thought is given to your seating arrangement. His legs are stretched out, knees wide apart, one hand over his crotch, the other tucked behind you. Legs pulled up to your chest, your feet are on the sofa, shoes on the floor. One of your arms wraps around your knees, hugging them into you. Your other hand mindlessly rests on his thigh.

It's dangerously close to his hand. So close that he reaches out with his fingers. They delicately toy with yours. You think very little of it. Just finds comfort in it. So does he.

No one notices.

You're wedged between Jeongguk and Danbi, who also has an incredibly giddy Taehyung next to her.

Or at least she does, until he hops up to grab beer pong cups from the bar. He returns with everything he needs for the game, but leaves again, only to return with a tray of shots, too.

It's just sourz. Has nothing on purple starfuckers - but it serves a purpose. Is exactly what you need as you stand at one end of the beer pong table.

Nabi is on the other end, Jimin by her side.

Tae got distracted by Danbi, well, existing. Put the cups down and haven't thought about them since. The game is yours now.

It's nice seeing Nabi actually smile. Has you supposing that Jimin was right, after all. She cheers when anyone gets shots in, even if it means she has to drink. A good sport. Just wants everyone to have fun. Knows that she sometimes can rub people up the wrong way, so appreciates the fact you made sure she was invited.

She always would have been invited. Taehyung had already mentioned it to her - but the fact that you made Jimin check? She appreciates it. Probably won't tell you so directly, but hopes that you'll see she's trying.

And you do. You're trying, too. It's always weird when someone new enters a dynamic. It's why you're trying to be mindful of Jiyeong, and excuse away Jeongguk for not being totally focused on the evening.

He's torn between his friends and making sure he replies to her drunk messages quickly enough. It doesn't help that he's also drunk and really can't be fucked with being on his phone in a dark room. It's embarrassing. He's here with friends. Doesn't wanna be glued to a screen.

His phone is facedown by the sofa when he comes to stand behind you, while you gear up for your next shot. You're currently a point up, and only have to get three more cups out.

"Easy does it," Jeongguk husks just loud enough for you to hear. If his voice wasn't enough to distract you, his hand on your hip might just be. It's disguised by the shadows of the dark room, but the sensation burns so brightly you're surprised no one else notices.

"I am easy," you tell him, not realising how bad that sounds until it's out of your mouth. The glitter on your cheeks catches in the dim fairy lights as you giggle at yourself.

Jeongguk just smirks. Shakes his head.

"No, you're not."

"Well, what am I then?" you flirt a little. " Hard ?"

Oh God, he's smirking again.

There's a mirror on the far wall behind Nabi and Jimin. You hate it.

Hate how you never used to notice mirrors before Jeongguk came into your life, and hate how you noticed every single one of them now.

Hate how good Jeongguk looks, dark hair waving divinely around his features. His broad shoulders are hidden by his shirt, but he's loosened his buttons to frame his collar bones in silk. Sleeves rolled up, forearms on show, he's a menace.

The kind of guy your mother warned you about, cosplaying as the boy next door. Trouble. Sin. Temptation.

And yet he's just so pretty - doe-eyed and dewy-nosed - that he's impossible to resist.

"Maybe," he sings, taking a swig of his drink before holding it to your lips. You let him tilt it. Drink it down. Tastes like shit, but you don't care. Are too enthralled by the flirt.

"Nah," you laugh softly as you lick the liquor from your lips. "I'm not hard."

Jeongguk's had too much to drink. He knows better than to reply in the way he wants to. Knows he shouldn't grip your waist and pull you back so that your ass is rested against his crotch.

He knows, he knows, he knows.

"Funny," he husks. "You might not be, but me? Well..."

And yet his grip does tighten. He closes the gap. Makes your breath hitch.

"Haven't got all day Disco Ball!" Jimin calls over, blissfully unaware of what's going on in the dark.

Jeongguk loosens his grip. Takes a step back. Walks around to the side of the table and slumps down into the sofa beside Namjoon.

From the corner of your eye, you can see them whispering to each other, but decide to ignore it.

Instead, you line up your shot. Focus. Narrow your eyes and ignore the heckles Jimin is throwing in your direction. Anything to put you off your game. Nabi slaps at his shoulder and tells him to cut it out.

And so you smile at her. Mouth the words 'thank you' in her direction.

Jimin just leans on the table. Tells you that he gets a free shot if you take any longer.

"That's bullshit and you know it," Jeongguk calls over, just to let you all know he's still invested.

Of course he is. He wants you to win.

Just didn't wanna take things too far.

"You've got this, B!"

And you do .

The shot is smooth. Sharp. The tiny white ball knocks against the lip of the most distant cup and falls directly into the small pool of beer it's holding.

Jimin stares at it in disbelief.

"What?" You grin, as Jeongguk cheers you on and Namjoon laughs at Jimin's poor defeated face. "Drink up, Park. Haven't got all day."

The rest of the game continues much like that. Jeongguk sits on the sidelines and lets you take the reins. Doesn't interfere. Just watches on, with a curious sense of pride and something he can't quite place. Just notices that his jaw gets a little tense whenever your start joking around with Jimin.

It's nothing a fresh shot doesn't solve. The liquor eases his jaw. Makes him forget the uncomfortable feeling that comes with watching your glitter sparkle in someone else's eyes.

He brushes the feeling to the side. Ignores it.

But when you've been gone for ten minutes, and he realises he doesn't know where Jimin is either, he pauses. Doesn't want another shot cause he feels a little sick.

Decides the bathroom is the best place for him. It's a bog standard toilet - no gender separation of the stalls. Just a door into a room with a sink in it, and another door that leads to the actual toilet.

"Shit, sorry," Jeongguk mumbles as he opens the door, realising someone's stood by the sink.

"Hey," you chime pleasantly. "It's cool. Come in. No one's in there."

You've just been touching up your makeup. Have no idea where Jimin is. You've not seen him. Assume he's flirting with some random by the bar. Seems like him.

And yet Jeongguk's drunk tongue decides that he'd quite like to just make sure you haven't seen Jimin. It's stupid. He's got no reason to care. Doesn't care. Is just a little too tipsy for his own good.

"If I didn't know any better," Jeongguk says quietly, coming to stand behind you. "I'd say you've been flirting with Jimin."

The bathroom is cramped, graffiti covering the walls. There's no soap and the hand dryer is broken. It's seen better days. Seen a lot of sin. You glance up at him as you wash your hands the best you can. The position is all too familiar.

Mirrors and Jeongguk?

Yeah. A view you know well.

You smirk. Raise your brows. "So what if I have been?"

He shrugs. Looks at your hair, and starts to toy with it. Scoops it together to push it all over a single shoulder.

He leaves your neck exposed, and bites down on his lips to stop himself from doing things he knows he shouldn't. A tiny waft of your perfume intrudes on his senses. God . He really does fucking like your perfume.

"Just curious," he says. "That's all."

You think that will be the end of his interrogation.

Think that Jeongguk is just throwing questions into the void, but that your lack of a clear answer will deter him.

It does. Only for a moment, though. He's still stroking at your hair. Doesn't look at you. Just your damn hair.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, he asks, "Are you gonna fuck him again?"

You say nothing, just continue washing your hands as you think about what the fuck to say back. You've not been planning on it, but the question sounds a bit like an accusation. Sounds like Jeongguk is probing you. Sounds unlike him. Sounds like he wants a fight.

Shutting the tap off, you rest your palms on the edge of the basin and look at his reflection. You're annoyed to find him still watching his own hands as they stroke through your hair.

"Why?" You question. He's never been one to cast judgement over your choices. Never. You're pissed that it seems like he's doing it now. "Should I fuck him again?"

Jeongguk's the one who falters now.

Only for a split second, but long enough for you to know he's running hurdles in his brain.

He doesn't know why he started the conversation, and doesn't know where the fuck he hopes it ends - he just knows he can't seem to stop it.

The dingy light flickers ever so gently, like morse code. Dash, dot... Dash, dash, dash.

Indifference is feigned well as he shrugs. "If you want."

And you're not sure why, but you ask, "Do you want me to?"

When he looks up and catches your gaze in the aged, desilvered mirror ahead of you both, he's hard to read.

His stare is hard, but his features are soft. Cheeks a little pink. Lips pretty and pouty like they are always are.

"Wasn't that the whole point of the birds?" He asks. "We fuck about, get you comfortable with intimacy... you have better sex?"

You scoff. Shake your head as you look down to where your hands grip the porcelain basin. There are water droplets still on your skin. Sort of look like tears, you think.

"Mhmm," you finally say as your eyes dart up again, with a nod and a smile so fake that even the alcohol can't convince Jeongguk it's genuine. "I'm sure Jimin will be thrilled to have your leftovers."

"What?" he asks, a little confused.

Running your hands through your hair, you disrupt the preening he's been doing and let your hair messily fall into a more natural state. His hands drop from their position by your shoulders. Distance is created.

"Surely it's easier to start off with someone you already know?" He continues. "And the fuck are you on about? Leftovers? You know I hate it when you say shit like that, Byeol. It's not like that."

In Jeongguk's mind, it's really not that dissimilar to your setting him up with Jiyeong. You had started him off easy. Someone he knows won't reject him.

Interesting how he's already convinced there'll be a next; that Jiyeong is a start, not an end.

Longevity isn't something that he sees in her.

A certain guilt lies within him whenever they're together because of this, but he thinks perhaps he's writing it off too soon. Maybe it's his brain self-sabotaging like it always does.

"So what's different?" you say quietly, and turn to face him.

In the mirror, the open back of your dress has your spine on full display, and Jeongguk's reminded of how he traced down it in his kitchen; you bent over his counter, threats of fucking Jimin again acting as foreplay.

He's only got himself to blame.

"How will fucking Jimin now be any different to the last time?"

Jeongguk shrugs. Starts toying with your hair again. You wish he would stop.

And yet you don't make him. He's gentle as he tucks the hair over your ear, mindful of your piercings.

"You know the house layout, now," he smirks, trying to lighten the mood. He really doesn't want to argue with you. "You won't trip up on your way out."

"Shut the fuck up," you smile, not wanting to find humour in his words. "Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to stay the night, now."

He nods. Purses his lips. Looks in your eyes as he whispers, "I'll be so proud of you if you do."

You think he means it.

So does he.

It's not something he's tried with you. Not a bird that's been completed - but one of the ones that means the most, he thinks.

It's sitting on his desk at home.

Had fallen after you'd agreed to stop doing the birds for the time being.

"You would?" You whisper back, and ignore the way his thumb is stroking your hip. Pretend like he isn't so close you can practically taste his drink of choice.

"I would," he says back so quietly it's barely even a breath. The way he nods his head forces his nose to nudge ever so gently against yours. It's nothing new. Nothing that hasn't been done before. "You've done so well, Byeol. Faced so many fears."

Haven't kissed you, though, you think - and it takes everything in you not to close the gap.

"It's still scary," you say, a hand on his chest, the other resting on the crook of his neck.

If anyone were to walk in right now, there'd be a million questions asked - and yet neither of you questions the familiarity of your embrace.

Intimacy has been fostered between the pair of you. Exactly what the birds were trying to prevent. You were supposed to face your fears; untie the acts from any romantic feelings.

It's why you tell yourself this is normal.

It's why you're utterly convinced that this is just a byproduct of the birds, and that it's not actually real.

"I used to be scared of the dark," he tells you with a shy smile, looking down as he laughs ever so gently. You laugh, too. It's cute.

He withdraws a little. Lets you go. Rests his back against the far wall and drinks in the sight of you.

Your lips are blushed. Pouty. Kiss deprived. Glitter shimmers by your eyes and he's so glad of how predictable you always are. Sees stars even on the cloudiest of nights with you.

Jeongguk just runs a hand through his hair and shrugs.

"Still don't like it much," he continues. "Spook myself out sometimes. There's a corner of my room that's a little darker than the rest of the place and... yeah. It freaks me out. But you know what?"

"What?" you enthuse, the smile on your lips definitely the result of a few too many drinks. It matches his.

He reaches over to the light switch. Turns it off. Stumbles a little from his lost balance, and regains it by reaching out for you. You steady him - and you're right back where you started, far too close.

"I'm not scared of it anymore," he whispers. "I don't like it much, and I prefer having a little light to guide me - but I'm not scared ."

"And this is relevant... how?" You giggle, as your hands hold onto the front of his shirt.

It's at this point Jeongguk knows he fucked, for Jeongguk's utterly convinced if he doesn't kiss you, he'll die.

He wants to press his lips down on yours as you giggle. Wants to taste the alcohol on your tongue. Wants to feel your teeth bite down on his bottom lip. Oh, god , he wants it . Wants you . Just once. Just so he knows what it's like.

He knows you kiss. Saw Jimin kiss you that very first night. Sure, you deflected it - but that initial contact? The way your lips looked as they pressed down into someone else's?

God, he just wants to know. Has to know.

Never been into voyeurism, but the more he thinks about you with someone else, the more he knows he'd gladly watch.

Perhaps 'gladly' is the wrong word. He'd fuckin' hate it - but he'd take it just to be blessed with a visual of you doing his favourite thing in the world.

But then he feels guilty, again.

He knows he's not strictly off the market, and that he is still single, but he's always been a one-girl kinda guy. Never fucked around with more than one at any one given time.

Would feel fucking awful if things with Jiyeong progressed, knowing that he'd gotten far too close for comfort with you in the early days.

He wants you in his life.

If he fucks around with you now, then it writes off any chance of that when he and Jiyeong become official.

So he pulls away from you again, and reaches for the light. Can't find it. Gives up. Cracks the door ajar a little. The light that pours in is dusty. Smoke filled. The particles dance in the air; filth in the purity of the one thing that keeps you breathing. His foot holds the door open. He bathes in the dingy lighting of the bar, his features masked by shadows.

"It's okay that you still don't like intimacy, B," he tells you. "What matters is that you still try. Even without me. Even if it scares you. You just gotta try. Just gotta keep trying."

You reach for the door and pull it further open. Let the light pour in.

"Gotta keep trying," you nod. "I should probably-"

"Yeah, yeah, no, of course," Jeongguk nods as you gesture to the door. "Go. Sorry for walking in on you like that."

"It's no bother," you tell him with a small smile.

And you really do mean it. Jeongguk never bothers you. You're always pleased to have his company around.

You're less pleased to realise how fucking wet you are as you walk back to the group. Been in his proximity for all of five minutes and you're a state . Maybe he's got a point. Maybe you do need to get laid.

When Jeongguk rejoins the group, he doesn't look at you. Picks up his jacket, and mumbles something to Jimin. A laugh is shared, before Jeongguk pats his back and heads towards the door without even glancing in your direction.

No explanation.

He's just gone.

"Hey Jimin?" You call over, too drunk to care for playing it cool. "Where'd Gguk go?"

"Jiyeong," he simply says not thinking much of it - and why would he?

From the corner of the group, Yoongi pays attention to the way your shoulders drop a little bit. He's not stupid.

Knows which direction the bathroom is in.

Knows there must have been some overlap.

Knows you've been off talking with Jeongguk.

Doesn't think it would be anything more than a conversation, but think it doesn't matter. As always, Yoongi is right.

Jeongguk had sought you out. Had wanted to speak with you privately. You'd returned with a pleasant smile on your face - once of which faded almost instantly once Jiyeong's name was mentioned.

Yoongi says nothing. It's not his place to interfere - though he does text Seoyeon almost instantly to let her know that there's trouble in paradise.

She's by the bar with Nabi getting another round. Glances over immediately. Frowns when she notices Jeongguk's absence. Sighs when she sees the look on your face.

"Kids," Yoongi mutters under his breath, shaking his head, before knocking down the rest of his whisky. He actually thinks having his own kids would be less stressful than keeping an eye on you all.

You know you shouldn't, but as you finish off your drink, you start feeling petty. Vindictive .

Jeongguk's out with Jiyeong doing fuck knows what. Is fuck knows where. You shouldn't be angry, but you're a little too drunk for your own good. Can't help it.

Maybe you will fuck Jimin.

Maybe you'll fuck him, and realise that sex really is just sex - even the intimate parts of it. Maybe you'll let Jimin make you cum. Maybe you'll let him kiss you. Maybe you'll stay the night, and maybe Jeongguk will have to watch the next morning as you emerge from Jimin's room instead of his.

Maybe he'll have to watch Jimin reap the fruits of his labour, just like you know Jiyeong is reaping the fruits of yours.

But this was always the deal. Always the case.

It isn't Jeongguk's fault. Isn't Jiyeong's. Isn't yours, either.

"Hey," Jimin grins, holding out his drink for you to take a sip. You gladly oblige. "Too pretty to be this mopey. Let's dance."

"Jimin," you pout and whine, really not feeling it. It's one thing to consider fucking Jimin, but a whole different thing to actually act on it.

"Don't gimmie that face," he teases. There's a glint in his eye; mischief . You recognise it. Have seen it before. Have leant into it. Have pushed it away.

You're not sure what you'll do with it tonight.

When you take Jeongguk out of the equation, you probably wouldn't give it a second thought. You know Jimin. Have fooled around with him before. Know you'll be safe. Know it will satisfy a hunger.

And so you take his hand, and let him drag you to the dancefloor.

Just like you let his hands wander. Let his teeth become reacquainted with your neck. His lips are soft. Warm. His hands, too. And his voice, when he says "should we just cut to the chase?"

You laugh. Nod. There's no point in playing coy; not when he knows what he wants, and assumes you want it, too. He doesn't get rejected too often. In fact, the last girl who did? Was you.

He doesn't even try to kiss you. Remembers how little you seemed to be into it the last time, completely unaware of the fact you love it.

At least you won't have to deal with Jeongguk, and how whiney he is about always wanting to ki-

Nope .

Once you realise you're thinking about him, you stop.

This? Now?

This is the first test of the birds. Jeongguk helped you. For this very purpose. He shouldn't hinder you. Not now.

Just like you're sure he's not thinking about you while he's with Jiyeong, you tell yourself you can't think about him, either.

Funny, really.

Jeongguk's across town embroiled in an argument. Can't stop thinking about you, 'cause Jiyeong's insisting on hashing it out with him as to why she gets such weird vibes from the pair of you both.

Jimin also gets those vibes, but is a boy, and is stupid. Pays no attention to it.

And why would he?

Not even half an hour later, you're in his bedroom.

He's the one reclining onto his elbows, legs spread, knees hooked over the end of his bed as you shake your dress off.

You think of the birds. Know that nakedness is one of them. The last time you fucked Jimin, you'd been fully clothed.

This time, you won't be.

It makes you nervous. He can't tell. Not with the way you hold yourself as you slip out of the fabric and let it crumple on his floor.

"You hard?" you ask quietly. The lighting is dim, and it's hard to tell beneath his dark jeans. He palms at himself and smirks.

"Getting there. Wanna see?"

You nod. Watch with bated breath as Jimin undoes his trousers. Pushes them down a little. Lets his white briefs show you exactly how hard he is.

He's definitely firm, but not quite there yet. Needs more than just a half-naked girl. Seen so many of them in his lifetime that he needs something a little more interesting to really get him excited.

"Play with yourself," you tell him. The positioning - you standing in front of him, in control - has him eager.

He remembers how difficult you can be all in the name of a good fuck. Knows he's in for a treat - and so does as he's told. Pulls his cock free. Strokes it. Lets his head fall back for a few pumps, then meets your eyes again as he jerks himself off.

You smirk, now. "Cute."

"Cute?" He laughs a little in disbelief, so you just nod.

There's an air about you. An arrogance. It's the attitude he usually gives women. Quite likes it when it's given back to him.

"Cute," you nod with a sickly sweet smile, as you get to your knees. Hands on his thighs, you stroke tenderly. His grip on his cock tightens as his hips push up into his hand.

"Look at you," you continue teasing. "All needy and playing with yourself because you just can't wait to fuck me. It's really cute."

He slows down, as if he wants to defy you, but you just smirk.

"Did I say stop?"

He laughs. Shakes his head. Continues.

"You just wanna watch?" He asks, a little bemused.

"Mhmm," you hum pleasantly. There's a power trip that comes with watching a man wank over you. It's safe. His problem, not yours.

The proximity of his cock to your face does make it hard to resist. You haven't given head in so long. One of your favourite acts, you've never had issues with it, which is why it was never included in bird-related endeavours - and blessed, fortunate Jimin is gonna be the one to receive your pent-up need for a cock in your mouth.

Not yet, though. You'll let him suffer a little longer, first.

You're quite enjoying it, regardless. Jimin's hands are pretty in a way that Jeongguk's aren't; dainty and petite. Well proportioned, and perfectly kept. What he may lack in length, you know he'll make up for in skill.

Gets you thinking about your birds. Gets you thinking that you need to put them into practice.

You get to your feet and Jimin just watches. Says nothing. You're not entirely steady on your feet thanks to the alcohol, but it doesn't matter. You're not standing for long.

Straddling his lap, Jimin nods. Doesn't make a fucking noise. Not even a hum. He's too busy making sure he doesn't wank himself off too well. Would be embarrassing if he came early.

You reach for his hand. Stop him. Guide him to your underwear, instead.

He needs no instruction. Just says, "take your bra off."

And so you do. Another fear set free by Jeongguk. You're doing it. You're really fucking doing it.

The birds? They fucking work .

You find the annoyance you had with Jeongguk, and this whole new reality you're both now living in, melting away.

Perhaps it was jealousy, but not of Jiyeong; jealousy of Jeongguk, and the fact that he was actually making developments in his life thanks to the birds.

Now, you are, too.

You laugh a little. Jimin thinks you're just giggling because he's pushing your underwear to the side. Must be ticklish or something.

He's sat up straight, a hand on his cock, the other stroking over your pussy. Wetter than he expects, he knows you're game to fuck, and is pleased. Had no doubt you would be, but it's always a nice ego boost. Alcohol can fuck with things, making it a little more challenging.

Sure, Jeongguk might have gotten you wet earlier, but it's Jimin who's gotten you this far.

Jimin, Jimin, Jimin.

Jimin , who sinks a finger into you. Jimin , who reads your body as you gasp and adjust to his touch. Jimin , who latches his plump lips around your nipple as he begins to fuck his finger into you.

"Shit," you husk a little breathlessly, which earns a hum of satisfaction from Jimin. His lips are still wrapped around your nipple, sucking tenderly.

He stops only briefly to tease you. "See how much nicer it is when you just do what I tell you to do?"

You laugh, but quickly find yourself moaning again when he pushes a second finger into you. One of your hands is on his shoulder, but the other drops to his wrist and stops him from playing with himself.

"You wanna try?" He flirts. "Wanna see how hard I am for you, huh?"

You nod. "Please."

He guides your hand to his cock. Tilts his head back as you wrap your fingers around his shaft.

"Shit."

His throat looks gorgeous in this light; thick and tense as he swallows. The sensation of your hand is nothing compared to your pussy, but fuck. He likes it. Likes it so much.

"Faster."

You oblige. Wank him off so well he falters for a second or so, torso tense, finger buried in your pussy. He snaps out of it, and adjusts himself. Grips your waist. Fucks his fingers into you so fast there's absolutely zero chance of you staying quiet.

Your breathing gets deeper. So do his fingers. The sound, the feel, it's fucking euphoric - but it scares you. Scares you so much.

Just gotta keep trying.

Jeongguk's words echo in your mind. The only way to get over a fear is to confront it. You know this. You've proven it to yourself before. There's no need to be scared.

Your breathing gets heavier. Jimin mistakes it for pleasure. Doesn't realise you're panicking.

"Wait, wait," you say a little breathlessly.

"You alright?" He asks, stopping as soon as you say so, but not really thinking much of it. Assumes you were too close. Figures you wanna make it last - which would be fine by him.

You nod. Swallow back a harsh breath.

"Yeah, yeah," you say as you pull away from him, and get to the floor between his legs. Again, there's no opposition from Jimin. You're both probably a little too drunk to be making sensible choices, and in the morning, it'll be a miracle if you even remember.

For the time being, all you can focus on is making sure he doesn't know you were on the edge of a freakout. The last thing you want is to have to explain yourself - and how can you do that with a cock in your mouth?

You stroke him gently in your palm, admiring his cock. It's just as pretty as he is. Slightly curved, and a little more flushed in colour than you thought it would be. Half a dozen small, dark veins run up the underside of his shaft.

Makes you think of Jeongguk, and the single, thick vein that runs up his. Curious how different they are. Jimin is smaller than Jeongguk, granted, but you don't really mind. Will be far easier to take in your mouth.

And as you pepper kisses up his cock, you know that it's exactly what you want to do. He grunts when your tongue licks against it. Pushes his hips up. Edges his trousers off.

You follow the instructions of his body language and get them around his ankles, before adjusting your position.

Tongue flat against him, you lick a stripe up his cock, and swirl around his dark head. He curses. Lets his back fall to his mattress. Lifts his hips. Wants more.

You kitten lick around his tip, just to him get a little moany, then press wet kisses against him. Ignoring his pleas for more, you take it at your own pace. Wank him off as your tongue gets acquainted with his balls.

Jimin makes sure to let you know just how much likes that. Is so moany.

His hands tangle in your hair. He's gentle but a little rough when he needs to be. Pulls you a little further up.

"Suck it."

Teasing a little more, you smirk. Spit. The way he moans is unholy.

"Shit."

You're void of thoughts as you wrap your lips around his shaft, taking his length inside your mouth. Your tongue is wet, mouth hot, just how he likes it. He sounds like heaven, and yet you refuse to listen. Don't want anything intruding. Don't wanna hear him say your name, and get a complex over the fact Jeongguk never calls you by name.

Don't wanna think about the fact you can't say 'chess'. Don't wanna think about how soft Jeongguk is with you. Don't wanna think about him, or his eyes, or the forbidden kisses he presses against your skin.

"That's it. Yeah," Jimin sighs into rhythm you're setting. "That's it. Oh shit, yeah."

Too caught up in an internal battle of the mind, you hadn't noticed your pace increase. Depth, too. He's hitting the back of your throat. Making your eyes water. Creating the lewdest sounds - and he fucking loves it. Wet, sloppy? Ugh . For a man as pristine as Jimin is, he sure loves it filthy.

"Shit. Take my cock so well, don't you? God. Mouth is just as good as your pussy. Yeah, like that. Like that. Oh, fuck."

Jimin's body writhes on top of his sheets, face contorted from the sheer pleasure of your mouth around his cock. Doesn't give a fuck about sex. Wants his cum down your throat. His hands bunch in your hair, as his hips pick up a little momentum. The noises you're making double. Treble. So do his.

"Gonna cum," he rasps. Hisses as he leans his head into his shoulder and bites down on his own skin just to soften his moans. Doesn't help. "Gonna fuckin' cum."

He curses. Whines. Writhes. Stalls his hips, but keeps your head pressed down right to the base of his cock as he begins to shudder beneath you. His balls are tight as they release, his cock already at the back of your throat as he pours his cum down it. The spurts are short, sharp. Hot. Sordid.

And once they're done? He laughs like a fucking angel. Makes you smile. Feels like a job well done.

"Shit," he murmurs.

Eyes closed, he stays in the exact same position as his chest heaves, a small trail of evidence leaking onto his abdomen. He's breathless as he tries to speak.

"Sorry. That was... Just... gimmie a minute. Shit. You good?"

"Good," you nod, sitting back on your heels.

You know Jimin. Have been here before. You know this is where the night ends. Know that he'll be out cold within five minutes.

"C'mon," you tap his knee. "Bed. Don't wanna fall asleep like this."

He nods. "Yeah, yeah. Just... a minute."

"No," you laugh, moving his ankles to take his trousers off fully, before getting to your feet. "Get into bed, you mess."

"Already in bed," he says, still grinning from his orgasm.

"You know what I mean."

"You gonna join? I'll make it up to you in the morning."

You don't reply. Just head to the kitchen to get him some water. Glance at the door to see if Jeongguk's shoes are there, but there's no evidence of his Chuck Taylors. You purse your lips and nod. Sigh so deeply it feels like you've not taken a breath for days.

The clock on the oven reads 04:32. It doesn't take a genius to work out where he is.

He's where he should be , your mind berates you. Wouldn't be there had it not been for you.

And so when you return to Jimin's room, pleased to find him tucked up into bed now, you crawl in beside him.

Sure, you failed at one thing already tonight, but sharing a bed is something you never do. You never stay the night. You never wake up with the people you fuck about with. It's too intimate.

The prospect of Jimin actually making it up to you in the morning? It terrifies you.

Just gotta keep trying.

You can never succeed if you don't.

"Welcome," Jimin mumbles, ready to say goodbye to the world for a few hours.

He reaches out to check the distance between you both. You're a little further than he'd like, but isn't gonna pull you closer. Is too tired. He enjoys that you're still wearing just your underwear. Will make it easier in the morning for a lazy hangover fuck.

"Thanks for having me," you whisper back in good humour.

Yet when Jimin does drift off, all you can do is lie on your back and stare at the ceiling, hands flat against your stomach. There's no clock in his room, so all you hear is silence. It's maddening. The darkness consumes you. Reminds you of Jeongguk. His childhood fear. Makes you all the more aware of your own fears.

You can feel your chest begin to heave again. Jimin doesn't stir. If you just pretend like you're fine, you'll be fine. Just pretend. Just keep trying. Ignore the warmth of his body, and your eyes as tears begin to prick at them. Ignore, dismiss, forget. You don't have to let this fear get the better of you.

But the pressure is too heavy and you can feel the weight of it imploding on your chest. His duvet feels like an iron blanket, and you need to get out before it suffocates you entirely.

Slow as you do so, in a bid not to wake him, you slip out from his bed.

Jimin wouldn't have stirred either way. He's always out like a light after nights out.

The fear manifests in so many different ways, though. Feels like you're scared of everything . Of leaving, of getting caught, of having to answer for yourself.

You know, deep down, in your heart of hearts, that Jimin could not care less if you leave or stay. You know there are no consequences to this. You know this.

And still, you're silent as you tiptoe around his bed, and slip back into your dress. You don't worry about your bra - will just tuck it into your coat pocket. You know it's hooked over the arm of the sofa, so you waste no time.

Just need to get out. Need to get away. Get away from the guilt that you feel, and from the residual ache in your chest. It's been there all evening. You think if you get fresh air, get out of the apartment, that it will ease.

But as you're sneaking out of Jimin's room, feet bare, bra in hand, Jeongguk is sneaking back home.

He's quiet as a mouse, but your eyes are on the door the second he clicks it open. You say nothing. Think that maybe he'll go straight into his room without glancing into the living area - but he's fucking parched and needs water before he can even think about sleeping. Half thinks he might hop straight into the shower.

Stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. The only light in the room is coming from the hob light left on in the kitchen. Your glitter catches in it. So do your tears.

"Hey," he whispers so quietly it sort of croaks out of his throat.

There's an air of caution about him, fearful of coming too close. The look on your face... he knows it. Doesn't like it. Doesn't know what the fuck to do. Just knows that as you start to sob, he sees red.

"Hey, hey, hey," he coos as he tosses his phone and wallet on the sofa and rushes towards you. Put his palms on the sides of your arms and bows his neck to look you in the eye. His face is warped with concern as you struggle to get your breathing straight.

"What's up? Hey?" he coos again, stroking up your arms. The chiffon of your dress bunches beneath his hands, and he detests it. Feels like it's grating off a layer of his skin. Funny. He'd liked it earlier. Hates it now. Wishes your skin was bare. "B?"

You just shake your head. Can't form words. Are so disappointed in yourself. So furious that you just can't just be fucking normal. All you can do is try and sniff back your tears, but it's redundant.

"What is it?" Jeongguk looks at you with crazed eyes, dark and foreboding, desperate to see inside your mind. He's only seen you like this once - after Seokjin had fucked you over the last time - and so his mind jumps. He stands up straighter. Looks over your shoulder to the room you've just left. "Where is he? What the fuck did he do?!"

The rage that swells inside Jeongguks chest is lethal. He has to loosen his grip on you because he can't stop himself from balling his fists up.

"No, no, no!" You panic, grabbing onto him before he can lunge for Jimin's room. He almost shakes you off. Almost doesn't wanna listen. Almost lets the fury get the better of him - but then your voice shakes and he knows that he needs to pay attention to you. "Gguk, no. Please. Wasn't him. Was me ."

He doesn't understand what the fuck is going on. Is still drunk. Swallows back his rage, and looks down at you. Tilts your head up with his forefinger. Gets a read on your eyes.

You're covered in glitter, even despite your wet cheeks. You look so fucking sad, yet painfully beautiful. Jeongguk can't understand what the fuck is going on with his head.

He knows he's pissed off.

Knows that if Jimin came out of his room he'd probably smack him regardless of whatever's happened.

Knows he's drunk, so knows he'd regret it in the morning.

Knows he hates how fucking upset you look.

Knows he hates how much he wants to kiss you, still.

Knows that it's the last thing he can do. Hates that, too.

"The fuck happened, B?" He whispers, and lets his thumb wipe at your cheek. Doesn't care that he'll end up covered in glitter. "Hey?"

You just shake your head. Sob again because it's all so pathetic.

"I can't do it. I thought that I could, and I tried, and I thought it would be fine but I just-" you laugh pitifully. Shrug. Sob harder when Jeongguk pulls you into his chest for a hug.

His shirt muffles the short, sharp breaths you take for air, his strong arms tight around your shoulders.

"This shit isn't linear, B," he whispers, pressing a kiss into the crown of your head. "This shit's complicated. We're not gonna get it right every time."

He says all the right things, and it just makes it even worse. He is getting it right. He is facing his fears in a way that feels linear. Feels like he's doing okay, while you're stuck in this state of limbo.

"C'mon," he says, pulling away from you and reaching over for your coat from the sofa. Holds out his hand. Waits for you to take it. When you do, he holds it just as tightly as he had hugged you. Leads you out of the sitting area, and towards his room.

And you just go. No hesitation.

The truth of the matter is that you would follow Jeongguk into darkness - even if he was scared. You trust him. Trust that you're safe with him.

There's nothing you can say, nothing you can do that will make him run for the hills. See, Jeongguk cares in a way that doesn't feel entirely normal. Would bend over backwards for you even if it broke his back.

You'd never ask him to, but you'd never need to. He'd just simply do it.

He's never discussed it with anyone. Never explained the way he feels so inclined to keep you sparkling. Just does it as if it's his life's quest. Thinks that maybe he was an astronomer in a past life or something.

But he's drunk, and these thoughts are all frivolous. He won't remember any of them in the morning.

As you enter the room, you immediately notice a bird on his bed. Jeongguk drops your hand. Picks it up. Doesn't look at it, not even to assess who it belongs to. Just tosses it to a small pile on his desk.

There are three of them, now. All unchecked, because he's supposed to be being 'good'.

He took things too far in the bathroom of the club earlier. Was too flirty. Felt guilty. It's why he left so abruptly - but was met with an argument almost as soon as he made it to the club Jiyeong was in. Had to defend your friendship, and felt like a piece of shit doing so.

Felt shitty for the way he'd been with you; felt shitty for both of the girls he wronged in the process; felt shitty for the attack on his character.

Yeah, he knew he fucked up - but Jiyeong didn't know that. After a few drinks, she decided that she wanted to fight and apparently he was the easiest target. Lucky for her, she found his weak spot pretty early on: you .

Jeongguk doesn't say anything. Doesn't know what to say. Pulls a shirt from the clothes rail, and tosses it on his bed.

"Here. Get changed. I'm just gonna grab some water. Want some?"

You shake your head. Tell him it's fine.

He brings a pint glass regardless. Knows you'll need some.

You're stood by his window, watching the early morning traffic make its way through town. It's still dark outside, and it's quiet, so there's not much to look at - but in all honesty, you're trying to avoid looking at Jeongguk. Don't wanna leave, but know you really shouldn't stay, either.

Lungs still stuttering a little in your chest, you dab at your cheeks with the back of your hand. Feel quite embarrassed about it all.

His shirt fits you like a dress, and your actual dress is folded over his desk chair. You've stolen the hairband of yours that had been left on his bedside table a few weeks ago and have put your hair up into a bun. Loose strands wisp around your neck, and it just reminds him of the bathroom, and how close he was to just fucking everything up.

"Hey," he says softly, and waits for you to turn and face him before he continues.

Your mascara is all smudged, and your cheeks are rosy, but the small smile you present him is sweet. Fake as fuck, and he knows it, but he appreciates you're trying not to look sad. Still doesn't know what went wrong, but he's not gonna force it out of you.

"Bathroom. Teeth, then bed. Okay?"

You nod.

Assume he means alone, but say nothing as he follows you to the bathroom. Rummages in the cupboard for the packet of spare toothbrushes, and is silent as he passes you the toothpaste.

It's curious how at ease you both seem to be as you brush your teeth together, avoiding eye contact in the mirror ahead of you.

He finishes first, but it's only because you get in this weird competition mode whenever you brush your teeth around other people. Never wanna be the first to wash it all away.

Jeongguk doesn't care. He's drunk, and he wants to fuckin' sleep. Still, he waits for you by the door of the bathroom. Turns the light off, and rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you through the apartment.

You set about throwing a couple of pillows off his bed and onto the floor - but he just follows their trajectory and picks them up. Tosses them back on his bed.

"Not yet. In," he nods to his bed. "You're gonna talk to me first. Then you can make your little nest, okay? Gotta talk first."

You don't understand why. Figure you can talk from your blanket haven on his floor - but he wants quiet. Doesn't wanna have strain his fuckin' ears trying to hear you. God, his mood is foul .

And yet he's so gentle. So soft in how he directs you. Calm, and comforting in the way he gets into his bed beside you. Doesn't give a shit about what you may or may not have done across the hallway in Jimin's room as he pulls you in for a hug. Couldn't care less.

All he cares about is the fact that you were in fucking tears when he arrived home. His pride? Nothing compared to how protective he feels over you.

"There's nothing really to talk about," you say before he can get any questions in. His nose nestles into your hair. You tighten your grip around his slim waist. He's warm to the touch, and it soothes the chill notion of failure that resides in your heart.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Just had too much to drink," you deflect. It's not entirely a lie. Not entirely the truth either, but that's neither here nor there.

"I've seen you drunk more times than I can remember," he whispers. "You're not a crier. Not really."

Not like Jiyeong is. God. So many tears. So many tears over fucking nothing.

Perhaps it's shitty of him to think so. Perhaps it's shitty of him to view your tears as more worthy than hers.

"Was the rum," you whisper with a little humour. "Never normally drink rum."

"Bullshit, Byeol," he says. Hugs you even tighter. "What are we gonna do with you, huh?"

You shrug. Laugh. Hold back a sob.

"Hey," he coos. "C'mon. You don't need to cry. It's okay."

"I don't even know why I am," you half laugh but it's cut off but your throat choking on yet another sob. It's fucking mortifying by this point.

"I just," you sniff. "Just don't think I'm ready, yet. No one's fault."

Jeongguk says nothing. Holds his tongue. The anger he felt earlier returns, but it's directed at no one but himself. He's the one who told you to hook up with Jimin. He's the one who said you'd be fine. It's his fault.

If you knew he thought this, you'd be just as annoyed as he is.

You're a big girl. You make your own decisions. You make your own mistakes.

"I shouldn't have pushed you," he whispers. You can hear the thud, thud, thud of his heart in his chest. It's soft. The scent of his aftershave acts like a sleep remedy. May as well be lavender. Has you forgetting your woes.

"You were trying to be a good friend," you shake your head against his chest. The movement lets his nose nestle even further into your hair.

"I should have stayed."

Again, you protest. "You've got a life to live, Koo. Can't always be checking up on me."

You pause. Think he's about to respond, so get a final word in. "You should have said goodbye, though. That was rude."

"I know it was," he admits. It had been deliberate. Hates that he left, now. Maybe if he had stayed, you wouldn't have ended your night in tears. "I'm sorry."

"Please don't say sorry," you mumble quietly.

"But I am."

"But you needn't be."

"Doesn't matter. Still am."

"Gguk," you sigh, and push yourself against his chest so you can look at him. He just shakes his head. Pulls you back in.

"It's late, B," he murmurs drowzily. Really does not have the energy to bicker with you. The sun's gonna rise soon. "Let's forget it, okay? Talk about it in the morning."

And so you just nod. Tell him okay. Indulge in the feeling of safety that Jeongguk offers you in the refuge of his arms for a little while longer. Just for a second or so.

Somewhere between the crying and the comfort found in your friend, your brain gets things a little muddled. Tells you that it'll be okay if you close your eyes for a moment. Not for long. Just long enough to feel better.

Thing is, you've both had too much to drink. Are both tired. Are both perfectly content as your legs curl up, and your feet rest against his thighs. Pay it no mind when his legs part for yours to tangle with his.

In fact, you both pretend to be asleep so that you don't have to address the fact that Jeongguk's got a fucking semi again. Just can't bloody help himself.

Except it only takes just a matter of minutes for make-believe to turn into reality.

Jeongguk sleeps.

So do you.

It's easy. Not a single tear. Your heart rate is perfectly normal. In fact, it stays at a calm level through the night, as if you've been lulled into sleep by you're very own metronome.

In a way, you have been - it's just the beating of Jeongguk's heart, and the warmth of his body that have you pacified.

On his desk lies a slipshod bird with your handwriting scrawled inside it. As the sun rises, it watches on. Is pleased. The words inscribed in its wings are rendered useless, for you're already doing it.

You're sharing a bed. Sure maybe it's not as conventional or straight forward as it should be, but since when have any of the birds been entirely normal?

It's apt. Just right. As it should be.

You wake first.

Stare at the birds.

Try not to think too hard about, well, anything from the night before.

When Jeongguk wakes, he does the exact same thing. Is pleased you haven't left.

You can do it.

No words are spoken. No small talk exchanged. No admittance of failure from either of you. No cheer of success. Just the heavy silence of confusion.

He'll chalk it up to the comedown of an adrenaline rush. Had spent a good couple of hours fighting with a girl who he barely fucking knows, trying to reassure her that you're nothing to worry about.

As he realises he's holding your hand beneath the duvet, he becomes aware that maybe he'd been lying the entire time.

Not intentionally. God, it's all so fucked.

Jeongguk doesn't want to be a liar.

But he also doesn't want to stop holding your hand.

"I should go," you tell him, and he knows you're right. Knows if Jimin has woken up to find no trace of you, but your shoes by the sofa, you're both fucked. Have no idea how he'd explain it away.

His chest tightens. Face contorts. Thinking about Jimin makes him feel hot beneath his skin. Irate.

This is not fucking normal.

"Let me check the coast is clear, first," he says, slipping out of the duvet and into the cold, harsh reality of day.

Jeongguk's always enjoyed how much a cocoon his room becomes with you in it; a sanctuary, in a way. Somewhere to seek refuge.

Feels claustrophobic, now. You both have a vague awareness of how uncomfortable it's become.

"Out like a light," Jeongguk says as he returns. You're back in your party dress, his shirt hung up again on his clothing rail. "I can call a cab-"

"No," you shake your head. "It's cool. I need to be off."

The goodbye is awkward. Neither of you know what the fuck to do. You take the stairs, because the elevator will make you feel queasy, and order your own taxi instead. Just wanna be out of Jeongguk's hair. Out of their apartment block.

"The fuck are you doing?" Jeongguk hisses at himself in the mirror. Rubs his hand over his face, and pushes it back into his hair. Shakes his head. Softly taps the wall with a closed fist. "This is not who you fuckin' are. Shit ."

All he knows is that you're gone, and he hates it even more than he hates knowing he wrecked everything the night before.

Jiyeong's fucking mental after a few drinks, he thinks, which doesn't bode well for the future of their relationship. He knows it dead in the water. Was fucked the second she started saying shit about you that he was never gonna let fly. Was doubly fucked when he arrived home and found you in a sorry fuckin' state, and decided that you meant more to him than she did.

Of course you do, though. You're friends .

Friends who fall asleep with their legs tangled together, and wake up holding hands.

He's had a friend like that before.

Ended in tears, granted, but he still considers her his best friend.

Know he can't let it happen again .

Yet he finds himself pulling a pair of shoes over his heels and ignoring a sleepy Jimin wandering into the sitting room, as he charges out of the apartment door. Presses the elevator button, but doesn't wanna wait for it.

It's on the ground floor, according the the small screen above it. He assumes you've just reached it. So, instead, he hurtles down the stairs. Runs so fucking fast he's practically flying and is in the lobby within a matter of minutes.

Just in time to watch you get in a taxi, and head back home.

"Fuck," he shouts, now as the cab disappears around the corner. Lets his head hang back, crown resting between his shoulder blades.

" Fuck."

He regains his posture, and kicks out at the decorative pillar, before crouching to floor. What a sorry state he's in. Doesn't even know why. Didn't have a plan for what he'd say if he caught up with you. Has no idea why he was so hellbent on keeping you close.

"Fuck!"

The elevator dings. Jeongguk stands. Looks over towards it. There's no one in there - but there is a box of recycling that he recognises from his apartment, that Jimin must have put there in the hopes that Jeongguk would take it to the trash pile by the entryway.

He sighs. Shakes his head. Grabs the recycling, and puts it in the designated area - then sulks all the way up to his floor.

When he returns, Jimin's eating a bowl of dry cornflakes. "The fuck was that about?"

Jeongguk says nothing. Slams his bedroom door shut. Faceplants his bed. Smells your perfume. Yells into his duvet.

This is not good.

In fact, this is very very bad.

Catastrophic, some would say.

It's the product of his own bad decisions, and that's what pisses him off the most.

What pisses him off even more?

The teeny tiny origami bird that decides now is the perfect time to fall. It lands on his head and bounces down to curve of his spine. Resides there happily. Really fuckin' pisses Jeongguk off.

"Oh, get fucked," he whines into his sheets. Reaches around for it. Opens it up. Reads it. Scowls. ' Admit your feelings'. He screws it up. Chucks it across his bedroom floor. Feels bad immediately. It's one of his, which lessens the guilt, but doesn't alleviate it entirely.

"So," Jimin comes to stand by Jeongguk's door as he crunches down on his cornflakes. "The fuck is going on with you?"

"Nothing," Jeongguk huffs into his duvet.

"Alright," Jimin smirks.

He's known Jeongguk long enough to know behaviours like this are never normal. He's composed to a fault at all times, even when he's annoyed.

This? Yeah, this is giving Hayun-induced-meltdown-era energy.

There's one significant change, though. One that Jimin finds all rather amusing.

"Let me rephrase," he taunts his friend. Fucking idiot. It's so obvious, now. Jimin's amazed he didn't realise sooner. "What's Disco Ball's bra doing over the back of your chair?"

Jeongguk's blood runs cold.

"Fuck."

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