#jimin enemies to lovers

[leahsfavefics]

Mr. Park is an Asshole

Author: leahsfavefics

Rating/Genre: M (18+); reverse tropes: nice guy who hates only you, academic rivals, but it's two teachers competing to have the best class. Both reverse tropes come from this post: https://www.tumblr.com/out-of-jams/747204416306806784/reverse-trope-writing-prompts

Pairing: Jimin x Reader (f)

Word Count: 11.5K

Author's Note: Part of the In Bloom collaboration with @kithtaehyung, @yoonia, @syllviere, @kpopfanfictrash, @suga-kookiemonster, and @cybrsan. Sorry, I'm bad at moodboards.

Summary: Ever since you joined the team as Darling Elementary's new art teacher, you've been welcomed with open arms. By everyone except Mr Park, the music teacher. Jimin seems to be the school's golden child, beloved by all (except you), and the organizer of the school's most popular event, the annual Spring Recital. When the school's poor budget planning requires Jimin to enlist your help on the recital, you wonder how you're going to manage working with your sworn enemy.

Warnings (explicit content): hot tub sexy time, fingering, Jimin talking you through it, 'good girl,' penetrative sex

Y/N:

“Winter break just flew by so fast, I can’t believe it’s already mid-January. Hopefully the rest of the year goes by this quickly,” you said, pouring two cups of coffee from the break room coffee pot. Despite the cheap and horrendous taste, the caffeine was a necessity and the warmth of the drink helped stave off that bitter winter chill that fought through all layers of cloth and skin to get right to the bone.

“Ugh but the second half of the school year always drags,” Heather complained, taking the mug you offered from your hands. “At least we’ll have the spring performance to look forward to. Jimin always does such a great job working with the kids to put on a good show. And it helps that spring break follows right after.”

“Winter break ended not two weeks ago and you’re already anxious for spring break?” you replied with a laugh, ignoring the bit about Jimin she mentioned. Mr. Park, the music teacher, was essentially the school’s golden boy. Beloved by everyone, faculty and students alike, kind, warm hearted, generous, talented beyond belief. Or at least that’s what you’ve been told. While you have witnessed that side of Jimin, it’s never been directed at you. In fact, you didn’t really seem to exist in his world, though you had no idea why. You’d seen him go out of his way at holiday parties to talk to everyone, including newcomers that he makes feel welcome. Yet ever since you accepted the role as art teacher at Darling Elementary he has not spoken more than two words to you.

“I’m always anxious for the next break. Oh, hi Jimin. Good Morning!” she turned her focus to the blonde haired teacher that just entered the break room. He wore a suit, his usual work attire, and his straight hair was tucked behind one ear. You hated how handsome he was. It was harder to dislike someone that was so beautiful.

“Good morning Mrs. Bailey!” He said, a charming smile on his face as he looked at her. “How did yesterday’s spelling test go? The kids were so focused on throwing words out to each other to spell during music class that we barely got to learning the songs for the spring recital.”

Heather winced, “Sorry about that! It went well, all that practicing during music must have helped.”

“No apologies necessary, it’s nice to see the kids excited like that about a test of all things. We’ve got plenty of time to learn the songs.” He poured himself a coffee of his own as he spoke. Once he was finished, he glanced at the black watch around his wrist. “I better head back, I have to meet with the principal about the budget for the show before class starts. I’ll catch up with you later.” He ducked out of the break room, leaving you and Heather alone once again.

“He hates me,” you said sullenly.

“What?! Oh my god y/n no, Jimin is the nicest guy ever. There’s no way he hates anyone.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s the nicest guy to everyone else. He just ignores me.”

Heather laughed. “That is ridiculous, he was just talking to you.”

“No, he was talking to you,” you retort. “Didn’t you notice that he didn’t address me once? He barely even glanced at me!”

“Well have you talked to him much? It’s a two way street.”

“No,” you grumbled. “How am I supposed to? I’m still kinda new here, and he has made no effort.”

“Y/n, this has got to be in your head. He’s literally an angel. Just try talking to him.” 

You checked the time on your phone, internally celebrating when you realized you could use it as a way to weasel out of this conversation. “Oh, look at that, class is going to start in 10 minutes. I better get the supplies ready in my room!” 

Heather laughed, seeing right through you. “You can avoid it if you want, I just think you’re being silly.”

“Yeah yeah,” you waved dismissively. “Whatever. Have a good day! Send me calm children when it’s art time.”

JIMIN:

“We just don’t have it in the budget this year, I’m sorry.” 

Seething, Jimin sat across from Principal Walker and tried to keep his shit together. Flying off the handle wouldn’t solve anything; it wouldn’t get him the funds he needed to get decor for the annual spring recital, nor would it prove his point. It would only get him into trouble. He took a deep breath, his knuckles white where they gripped his knees beneath the desk.

“Mr Walker, the kids look forward to this show every year. The parents, the faculty, so many people look forward to this show, despite the fact that I’ve been funding it personally every year. You promised after last year that it would be worked into the budget this time. I can’t afford to keep paying for everything myself with a teacher’s salary.”

Mr Walker at least had the decency to wince and seem apologetic. “I know, and like I said, I’m sorry. What exactly do you need the money for again? Decorations?”

“Loads of decorations. It’s a winter turned to spring theme, we need dozens of snowflakes and flowers to sprinkle across the stage. I want it to be interactive this year, so the seats will start off with snowflakes and the kids will go around and hand flowers to the audience during one of the songs.”

“Well why don’t you ask Miss Y/L/N for help? Maybe she can add these snowflakes and flowers to the art curriculum.”

“No,” Jimin bit back sharply, bristling. He didn’t want that job thief anywhere near his recital. 

“It wasn’t a request, Mr Park. Talk to Y/N and tell her to work it into her curriculum. You have months, the kids can make the decorations.” He spoke with resolve that left no room for argument. “This will be better anyway, they’ll get to hand out flowers they made themselves to their parents and everyone. And then you don’t have to spend your own money again this year.”

Glancing out at the snow through the frosted window, Jimin sighed, clenching his jaw. He didn’t want to ask Y/N for a favor, he didn’t even want to talk to her. He found it difficult to even be in the same room with her, and it was only partly because he found her to be the most gorgeous woman he’d even seen. Erick had been let go for no reason and she had the audacity to come into school after taking his job, acting all nice and chipper with no remorse whatsoever. “Do I really need to ask Miss Y/L/N? Is there no other option?”

“You could buy the decorations yourself, but once again it has not been approved in the budget. I suggest you stop pressing the matter.”

“Fine,” Jimin said, grinding his teeth.

“I suggest you get going. Class starts in just a few minutes.”

He was being dismissed, and Principal Walker did not seem happy. That was only fair, Jimin wasn’t exactly happy either. Why did she have to be the art teacher? He would be fine asking literally anyone else at school. He stood, gave one sharp nod to Mr Walker, and left for the music classroom.

Y/N:

A knock at your door startled you, causing you to drop the bean salad you’d been all but shoveling into your mouth, trying to finish in the short lunch break between classes. You cursed, grabbing a napkin and whirling in your chair to face the intruder. 

“Jimin?” You balked, eyebrows creasing as you wonder why on earth he is in your classroom. 

“Miss Y/L/N. Do you have a moment?” he didn’t look any happier to see you than you were to find him at your door. Now that you knew he was the culprit of your spilled salad, you were even more irritated. Not only was he interrupting the one bit of time in the day you have to yourself, but he made you lose nearly half your lunch!

Grunting in response, you gestured to the many chairs in your classroom. He eyed them dubiously before finally strolling over and taking an uncomfortable seat on a chair meant for an 8 year old. If you weren’t so annoyed, you’d find it comical. 

“Why are you here?” you finally asked after a moment of awkward silence.

He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “I need to ask a favor.”

You couldn’t help the bark of laughter that came out of you. “A favor? From me?”

“Look, I don’t like it, but I don’t really have any other choices here.” He took a deep breath and leaned his elbows on the table before him, hunching awkwardly to try to get comfortable in the elementary furniture. “You know the recital?”

“The one you put on every year that everyone raves about, that is a glorified choir concert?” you said. “Of course I know it.”

His brows furrowed angrily at your description. He opened his mouth to retort, but seemed to  think better of it, closing his mouth and clenching his jaw until you could see the muscles twitch. It was… unfortunately, extremely attractive. Why does the biggest asshole at work also have to be the hottest? You thought.

“Well,” Jimin started, snapping you out of ogling him. You looked away, embarrassed. He continued unphased, his voice low and angry. “Despite being promised some sort of budget to put on the show this year, I’ve been left high and dry again. Principal Walker told me to talk to you about making decorations for the performance. We need snowflakes and flowers, at least two of each for each kid but likely more if you have time.”

“You want me to make decorations for your show myself?” you asked, incredulous. 

“No, of course not,” he answered. “The kids should make them. Work it into the curriculum. You already have supplies- glue, construction paper, pipe cleaners, and so on.”

“Jimin,” you said, setting the remains of your salad to the side to focus on this absurd conversation. “I already have the curriculum planned out for the rest of the year. We only have time for a few more projects, and especially clay will take at least a few weeks. I don’t have time, sorry.” You added the sorry as an afterthought, not really feeling the sentiment but following the urge to be polite despite your dislike of him.

He cleared his throat, fidgeting awkwardly in his seat again. 

“What?” you barked, wanting him to spit out whatever he was clearly fighting with himself about saying.

“Mr Walker told me that it wasn’t a request. That the kids will like making the decorations and will be proud of them. We’ve been tasked to work together on this.” 

You gaped at him and he looked down, refusing to meet your eyes. Swirling rage welled up in you. “So I have to re-plan the entire rest of the year?”

“The recital is in March, so not the whole year,” he offered. “Just like, the next two months.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh okay, just half the remaining year then, as if that’s so much better. Unbelievable.”

A moment rolled by, tension thick in the air as both of you sat glaring at each other. 

“Miss Y/L/N?” your head whipped over to the door, where one of your students had arrived early. Her face broke out into a grin when her eyes landed on Jimin. “Mr Park?! My two favorite teachers are in one room!” she exclaimed, bounding over to her seat. 

“Mr Park, will you be here for class today?” she asked. 

Jimin extricated himself out of the small chair and stood. His face was lit with a smile, an expression so wholly different from the way he’d just been looking at you that it was hard to believe it was even the same person. “No, I’m sorry, Anjelica. I was just leaving. But I will see you tomorrow at music class! Your favorite.” He shot the words over this shoulder with a smirk. All the kids always raved about music class with Mr Park, but since you took over the art class there’d been rumblings that the kids were doing the same with your class. You bristled, feeling competitive. If he was going to behave this way- always cold, demanding favors- you were going to do your damndest to steal his title of ‘Favorite Class.’

Y/N:

A long conversation with Principal Walker confirmed what Jimin had told you. Despite your protests, he refused to budge from his decree and you spent the entire weekend re-writing lesson plans and rearranging your curriculum for the remainder of the year. When you weren’t working on school stuff or sleeping, you were on the phone with your long distance bestie, Lisa, complaining ad nauseam about Jimin and the fact that you were being essentially forced to help him. 

By the time Monday rolled around, you felt as if you hadn’t even had a weekend. That exhaustion made you angry, and that anger fueled you as you stomped over to the music room before the school day had started and banged on the door. 

“Wha- Oh.” His expression changed from curiosity to a barely concealed glower as soon as he opened the door and saw you. “What do you need?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, bristling at his tone whilst simultaneously trying not to let your eyes dart down to his plump lips. They looked so soft, you wanted to bite them and draw blood. 

Clearing your throat, you met his dark eyes and tried to focus on why you were there. “If we’re going to have to work together on this, I need some direction.”

“Why? Do you really not know how to teach kids to make snowflakes and flowers? How did you get the art teacher gig if you don’t know that?” He sat on the edge of his desk as he spoke, black pants stretching across what were surely muscular thighs. He folded his arms, mimicking your stance, and you couldn’t help but notice as the sleeves of his jacket rose revealing veiny forearms. Focus, y/n. Focus on how much of an asshole he is.

“Of course I know how to teach kids to make that stuff. What I need to know are details. Do you need one or more specific kinds of flowers? Is there a color theme we need to stick to? Should the snowflakes be plain like made with white paper or should they have glitter or other decorations? Do you want me to keep going or do you get it now?” you finished, trying to refrain from grinding your teeth. He just made you so angry with this condescension. It was almost better when he wasn’t talking to you at all. 

“I see,” he said pointedly. “The kids can do whatever they want with the snowflakes, glitter, string, whatever else. As long as they stay mostly white. For the flowers, they need to be spring flowers. Tulips, daffodils, lilacs, lily of the valley.”

“A bunch of 7 year olds are not going to be able to make lilacs out of elementary art supplies.”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Okay well you get the picture. Spring flowers only.”

“Got it.”

“Don’t screw this up, y/n. This performance is the highlight of the year for some of these kids. I’m trusting you with this huge part of it. The decorations better not wreck the show.”

If this were a cartoon, red would be rising up your body, whistling steam coming out of your ears. “My decorations will make the show. They’ll outshine your songs. And art class will become the new favorite class.”

He smirked, gesturing to the door. “It’s a contest then? May the best man win. Class is about to start, I suggest you head back to the art room.”

JIMIN:

“2 Iced Americanos for Jimin!” the barista announced over the cafe loudspeaker. Jimin got up from his seat to grab his drink. As soon as his hands closed over the iced coffees he regretted his choice. It was far too cold outside, and it would have been nice to wrap his hands around a warm drink. But, Erick always drank iced no matter the weather and Jimin had panic ordered, being too stressed with work to put any thought into anything else. Even something as simple as a coffee order. 

Just as he resumed his seat, a familiar face walked through the door. Jimin held his hand up to catch Erick’s eye, who smiled and took his seat across from his old university roommate.

“Chim! It’s been a minute. I’m glad we found time to grab a coffee and catch up,” he said, beaming at his old friend. 

Jimin took a sip of his drink and shivered. “I know! We’ve barely had time to see each other since you left Darling. I miss working together.”

Erick winced. “I do and I don’t miss it. I hated that job. I was so happy when they let me go.”

“What?” Jimin coughed, choking on his next sip of coffee. “You were happy? It was so slimy though, letting you go so they could hire a new art teacher instead of giving you tenure.”

“Well, yeah, it was slimy, but it was a relief. I was thinking about quitting anyway. Stacey and I want to start trying to have kids, and I just couldn’t imagine being around kids all day and then going home and taking care of more kids. I needed a career shift.”

Jimin sat for a moment, reordering events in his mind. This whole time he had been villainizing Y/n in his mind, thinking she came in and stole Erick’s job right from under him. Now he was finding out that Erick was not only relieved to go, but was likely going to quit anyway? 

“What is that look for? What are you thinking so hard about?” Erick asked. 

“I just didn’t know that.”

“I told you we were trying to have kids.”

Jimin waved this away. “I knew that, you guys told me at your holiday party. I didn’t know you wanted to leave Darling. I didn’t know you were happy to get laid off.”

“Yeah it was honestly great.” Erick said with a shrug. “But what does that matter?”

“Well…” Jimin cringed. “I haven’t exactly been very nice to your replacement…”

Erick’s jaw dropped. Jimin was almost never not nice. 

“I thought she stole your job!” Jimin said, defensive. 

“Dude, even if she did, it wouldn’t be her fault that the school did something shitty.”

Jimin wanted to fold into himself, suddenly ashamed for his behavior the last few months. Sure, he hadn’t been outwardly mean to y/n, but he had pointedly ignored her. Given how friendly he was to everyone else, surely she would have noticed. 

“You should probably fix that,” Erick said, laughing. “Also, if you’re that upset at how they treated me, maybe you should look for another job.”

“I was over winter break. Right now I’m so focused on the recital it’s hard to think about much else.”

Erick paused, then chuckled again. “I can’t believe you weren’t nice to someone. We roomed together for 2 years in college, I never saw you be anything but nice.”

“I was trying to be a good friend. Loyal,” Jimin whined. “Now I feel like a dick.”

“You might have been a little bit of a dick, but it’s not too late to fix it. You see her every day at work I’m sure, just start being nice.”

“Not too nice though, she is trying to steal my thunder at the performance.” Jimin explained to Erick that he once again got no budget for the recital, and had to resort to asking y/n for help from the art class. 

“So let me ask you this,” Erick said, once Jimin had told him the entire story. “Is this girl hot?”

Jimin blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Um,” he coughed, unsure how to answer. “I mean. Sure, she is attractive.”

Erick smirked. “I think you have a crush on her.”

“What?! No, I don’t even like her.”

“You thought you didn’t like her because you thought she stole my job. She didn’t. You think you’re annoyed at her for saying her decorations will outshine your songs, but you don’t hear yourself talk about her. She’s helping you with the show.”

“Because she has to-”

“Sure she has to but she clearly wants to do a good job.  I don’t know, Chim, maybe I’m wrong, but the only other time I’ve seen you be this animated talking about someone was when you dated Clarissa back in college. I think there could be something here with this girl if you pull your head out of your ass.”

“Ughhh,” Jimin groaned, disliking nearly everything Erick was saying. But, as one of Jimin’s oldest friends, Erick knew how to read him better than most, despite the fact that they hadn’t spent much time together since Erick left Darling Elementary. Maybe he was onto something… but that was a possibility Jimin didn’t feel like considering at the moment. 

“Let’s talk about something else,” he grumbled.

Y/N:

You leaned against the break room counters, blowing on your coffee as Heather walked into the room.

“Hey!” Heather said, grinning. “Will you be at the teacher’s retreat next weekend?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. I’m still so new, I don’t want to skip out on things like that and inadvertently ruffle any more feathers than I’ve already ruffled just by being here.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing as she poured herself a cup. “Are you referring to Jimin? You’re still convinced he doesn’t like you? I thought you were working together on the recital or something.”

“Is that what the rumor mill is saying? It’s more like I’m being forced by him and Principal Walker to rearrange my curriculum for the rest of the year to have the students make all the decorations.”  Several weeks had passed, and each day the students were getting more and more excited about the spring performance. They’d made all their snowflakes and were working on their flowers now, and it hadn’t cut into your normal curriculum as much as you’d thought. However, it was still disruptive to your flow and you were determined to stay annoyed at Jimin and Jimin only for it. 

“Oh that’s cute! They’ll be personalized and have more meaning. Plus I’m sure it will save Jimin a lot of money. He was determined after last year to have the school supply some funds for the show. I’m guessing they didn’t if he’s asking for homemade decor.”

Your attention was caught on one thing she’d said. “What do you mean, ‘save Jimin a lot of money’ ? Shouldn’t the school be funding this show each year? I assumed the budget was just a bit lower this year.”

“No,” Heather glanced around, making sure the room was empty before leaning in and lowering her voice. “This district notoriously does not give a shit about the arts. Despite all the praise the show gets every year, and how much students and parents and everyone look forward to it, the school has never provided any budget. Last year Jimin told me he ended up spending over $600 out of his own pocket on decor and set designs trying to make it perfect for the kids. But it made the rest of the year difficult for him financially. He put his foot down after that, saying he wasn’t going to spend a dollar of his own money anymore.”

“Oh shit, I didn’t know that,” you murmured, feeling guilty for giving him such a hard time about helping out. You just thought he didn’t get as big of a budget as he wanted or was being over the top. If you’d realized he’d been funding this all himself in years past you would have been more willing to help. Still irritated at reworking all your lesson plans, but you would’ve at least been nicer about it. “That sucks.”

“It does. He works so hard on it each year. I’m sure it’s hard for him to not be spending money to make it the best show possible, but I’m also sure the kids won’t care. They’ll love it anyway, especially if they get to feel like they’re helping with it by making the decorations during art class.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, lost in thought. This put Jimin into a different light. You’d always just thought he was kind of an asshole. And he was, sometimes, to you. But a true asshole wouldn’t almost bankrupt himself to spend hundreds of dollars on a recital for 2nd graders. Maybe Heather was right, and you did need to lighten up a little when it came to Mr Park…

JIMIN:

Heaving a sigh, Jimin collapsed on the bed. A whirl of conflicting feelings about the weekend’s retreat overwhelmed him. On one hand, he needed a weekend away. He spent nearly all day during the week at school, running the music class as normal and preparing for the recital. On weekends, he stressed about not being able to be at school and get more work done. He hadn’t even chosen the final song yet, let alone taught the kids how to play it on their recorders. He’d just been so focused on a loose script and some makeshift set designs. While he was determined not to spend his own money, that commitment required more time to handcraft. Although y/n was helping immensely by providing the snowflakes and flowers needed, there was still a lot that fell on Jimin’s shoulders, and he alone would bear that burden.

However, as much as he needed a weekend away he would have rather it have been to visit his own friends or family versus spending the whole weekend with the colleagues he saw day in and day out anyway. And y/n. He’d continued to avoid her after his conversation with Erick, not wanting to face her and too embarrassed to admit that he had made a mistake. There would be no avoiding her on this trip, unless he wanted to still send the message he’d been sending since day one, but that wasn’t fair to her. None of it had been fair to her in the first place, and he knew he owed her an apology. 

“Ughhhh,” he groaned to himself, dragging himself off the bed. 

The school must have used the budget they’d refused to give him for the recital on this retreat- it was a nice hotel in the mountains about an hour away from the school. He’d heard some of the rooms even had jacuzzis, but was disappointed to find that his did not. 

While many of his colleagues had carpooled, Jimin drove up himself, wanting to arrive later so he could spend a bit more time getting work done. As much as he appreciated a getaway in a beautiful location, it stung that they were willing to spring for this but not for the kids’ beloved performance. But why would they, when Jimin had always foot the bill himself? They expected that, and intended to take advantage of his desire to do best for the kids as they had always done.

He shook off the thought, it left a terrible taste in his mouth and he hoped to actually use this weekend as a relax, recharge, reset. There were a few teacher workshops sprinkled into the schedule, and dinner as a group each night, but otherwise the teachers and school counsellors, psychs, and other admins had time to themselves. Jimin intended to spend the majority of that time in bed. But before he could do that, he needed to get ready for dinner. 

The first night’s dinner was informal. Rather than a suit such as he wore to school each day, he donned belted black jeans with a white t-shirt loosely tucked in. It was cold, so he slung an oversized yellow flannel and a leather jacket overtop. He slipped into a pair of black boots and pulled a beanie over his blonde locks. Patting his back pockets, he confirmed his wallet and room key were secured before leaving the safety on his room. 

Y/N:

Upon finding your name card on the dinner table, you groaned. Sure, you understood why assigned seats are nice for group events in theory, but when they placed you next to Park Jimin, you cursed their existence. You grabbed your place card, about to whisper shout to Heather across the table to ask her to move, when you heard his voice beside you.

“Hi.”

You froze, turning slowly. Jimin was actually looking at you with something that resembled kindness in his eyes. Blond hair fanned out over his eyes beneath a black beanie. You’d never seen him outside of school, where he was always dressed formally. Your voice caught in your throat, addled by how beautiful he looked and by the shock that he was paying any attention to you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his dark brows furrowing in concern as more time went by without you uttering a word, just staring at him dazedly.

“Yep!” you said, a little too loudly. You glanced away, needing to take your eyes off him to be able to string a sentence together. You set the place card back down. Now that he had seen you, there was no escaping the seating arrangements. With a sigh, you took your seat. You saw him hesitate for a brief moment out of the corner of your eye, but then he took his seat beside you. 

Sitting stiffly, you remained silent as your mind raced. Why was he talking to you? Why did he seem… nice? Something weird was going on, you wondered if you’d somehow fallen into an alternate universe.

As you awkwardly sat there taking sips of your water just for something to do, the table began to fill with your colleagues. As more and more people joined, everyone had to scootch in a bit to make room until your arm brushed Jimin’s every so often. 

“So,” Jimin said beside you. “How was your week?”

You glanced over, expecting him to be talking to whoever was seated on his left. However, his dark eyes were fixed on you. “Um,” you cleared your throat, fiddling with the napkin in your lap. You defaulted to talking about the common ground between you, thinking maybe he was just trying to find out where you were at in terms of progress for his show. “It was fine. The kids are excited about making the decorations. Principal Walker was right, they like feeling like they’re included in the creation of the production. And we’re making good progress, we will definitely have everything ready by the time you need it.”

He smiled, and being on the receiving end of that crooked tooth-ed smile took your breath away in a fashion you had not expected. “That’s great, but I wasn’t fishing for information on the status. I just wanted to check in. I-”

“Good evening faculty!” Principal Walker stood at the head of the table, and Jimin grimaced and shut his mouth. You wondered what he’d been starting to say, but didn’t dwell on it long as the principal gave a brief speech about the importance of community and an overview of the weekend’s schedule. 

The food was delivered shortly after the speech and you got to eating. Conversations flowed all across the table, and you found yourself chatting along with Jimin and others normally, as if there had never been any tension or frost between you. Though baffled by this change, the more wine you had the less you cared, just glad to avoid the awkwardness you’d been dreading ahead of the retreat. If Jimin was going to actually play nice for once, you weren’t going to look that gift horse in the mouth. You were, however, still determined to ‘win’ the little not-so-friendly competition between the two of you and be labeled ‘best class.’

JIMIN: 

As the weekend progressed, Jimin found it was just what he had needed. Sure the little work exercises were annoying, but he was finding himself spending more and more time with y/n and, to his surprise, enjoying it. He’d only been able to interact with her in group settings, however, and still hadn’t had the chance to really talk to her one on one and apologize for his prior behavior.

 He didn’t know how to approach that. He couldn’t exactly ask her to come to his room for a talk. That would be wildly inappropriate, and frankly now that he had admitted to Erick, and himself, that she was attractive he didn’t think he’d be able to handle being alone with her. He’d get all giggly and nervous. So, he’d spent his free time taking naps or watching TLC in his hotel room, trying not to think about her.

The final night of the retreat had come, and everyone was meeting at the hotel bar for a final mixer. It was the only ‘formal’ event of the getaway, and Jimin had donned black slacks and white button up with the sleeves rolled up past his forearms due to the blasting heat in the bar. He was one of the first to arrive and ordered a glass of champagne. He was whirling it in it’s glass, taking the occasional sip, when y/n strolled in. 

He froze, swallowing thickly as his eyes roved over her body. Though technically her dress was appropriate in that it did not violate any school dress codes, the way the black satin clung to her curves should have been illegal. She caught him staring and smiled as she raised a hand to wave. He sent her a thin lipped smile before promptly downing the rest of the champs and turning around to order another. If she was going to look like that all night, he needed some more alcohol in him to survive.

As the night wore on Jimin continued to mingle, making sure to talk to everyone at least once. At the start he was carefully avoiding y/n, afraid that he would say something stupid. However he could not deny the draw he felt towards her, especially not when he’d been continuing to drink.

Before long they found themselves leaning against the bar side by side, lost in conversation. One by one their colleagues returned to their rooms, but Jimin and y/n couldn’t pull themselves away until they were the only patrons left in the bar.

“So do you have one of those, uh,” he floundered, searching his mind for the word he was thinking of. “Those things in some of the rooms. Scuzzis?” Jesus Christ, he couldn’t even talk, he was so dazzled by her.

She laughed, and the sound was like the ringing of the most enchanting bells in Jimin’s mind. He couldn’t help but grin, despite the fact that he’d just made a fool of himself. “You mean jacuzzis? Yeah, I do. I haven’t tried it yet, though.”

“I’m jealous. When I heard they were in some of the rooms I hoped I’d get one, but alas. You’ll have to try it tonight and let me know what you think.”

“Excuse me,” the bartender interrupted, sliding two bills before them. “Sorry, but we’re closing.”

“Oh shit,” Jimin cursed, checking the time on his phone. Sure enough, it was nearing bar close. He didn’t know where the night had gone. He didn’t want it to end. He slid his card over onto both bills. “I got this,” he said when y/n started to reach for her own wallet.

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course. It was really nice talking to you,” he said, trying to get himself to say goodbye.

“It was,” she smiled. “Um. Would you want to come to my room for a nightcap? You could try that scuzzi.” She added with a wink, and he couldn’t help the ‘Yes’ that burst from his mouth as soon as she finished speaking.

Y/N:

As you slipped out of your dress and into your bikini, you couldn’t believe how bold you’d been at the bar. You just couldn’t handle the thought of the night ending quiet yet. Jimin was not what you ever would have expected. Before, you knew he could be kind, but being the focal point of his soft voice and his smile had butterflies erupting in your stomach. But he was also silly, stumbling over his words occasionally and whining about how the timeframe in Rings of Power is too compressed, though the cinematography was magnificent. You’d never seen this side of him, dorky and hilarious, and you wanted to see more. 

So you invited him to your room before you could stop yourself. Now, though, as a knock sounded at your door, the nerves were setting in. You took a deep breath and opened the door. 

Jimin stood before you in naught but black swim trunks, a white towel slung over his shoulder. Your eyes roved over his body unwittingly, snagging on a bold lettered tattoo scratched along his side. You’d never even considered that he may be tattooed under those suits he always wore. You had to forcibly drag your eyes away from the way the words stretched over the taut muscles of his abdomen. 

He smiled, catching your gaze. “I’m here for the jacuzzi” he emphasized. “Is that still alright?”

“Of course,” you said, swallowing your nerves and stepping aside from the door to let him in. “I’m ready.”

“I can see that,” he said, eyes darting down and back up as he took in your bikini clad body. 

“Well, let’s get in,” you said, closing the door to your room. The jacuzzi was situated just across from the bed, a button on the wall behind it to start the bubbles. You pushed the button, hoping the bubbles would somehow help dissipate some of the tension in the room. The air between you felt electric with attraction and champagne. 

You slipped beneath the water, groaning as you sunk deeper, becoming encased in warmth. 

“Don’t do that,” Jimin said, shuddering as he climbed in and sat across from you. “It sounds sinful.”

“Sorry,” you said, giggling. “So what do you think? Worth it?”

“Worth what?” he said, eyes half lidded in bliss.

“Worth coming all the way to my room? For the jacuzzi?”

“It was worth coming all the way to your room just to see you in that swimsuit. The scuzzi is just a cherry on top,” his eyes flew open as he spoke, seeming to take even himself by surprise with his words. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “That was inappropriate. I’ve had a lot of champagne, my filter is-”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “It wasn’t exactly appropriate of me to invite you here anyway, either.”

“But I’m glad you did,” he said. 

“Are you?”

He gazed at you for a long moment, no sound but the bubbling water between you. Finally, he moved, sliding over until he sat by your side. “Is this okay?” he murmured, barely audible above the bubbles. 

“Yes,” you whispered back, breathless with his proximity. He leaned closer until his lips were hovering over yours, nearly touching. Your eyes fluttered shut, breathing him in before closing the small distance. As soon as your lips touched, the tension in the room, between you, burst through whatever dam was holding it back and overwhelmed you both. It was a soft kiss for the briefest of moments before Jimin deepened it, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pulling you into his lap.

“You looked,” he groaned between kisses. “So fucking good in that dress tonight.”

You shivered at his words, heat that even trumped the warmth of the jacuzzi pooling between your legs. “You looked amazing too. So handsome. You always look so handsome.” You ground your hips against his, seeking friction.

He placed his hands on your hips, holding you still. “Please don’t do that unless you want to take this further. I can’t handle it.”

You pulled away just long enough to start peppering kisses along that sharp jaw of his. The one that had fallen open now, despite always being tightly closed in annoyance in your presence. You moved your hips again.

“Do you really want this, y/n?” he said, placing two fingers beneath your chin to make you meet his eyes. They were darkened with lust, his lips red and swollen already from the force of your kissing. 

“Yes,” you said, twisting your fingers around the blond strands of his hair and pulling him close again.

“God,” he moaned, reaching between your bodies to slip his fingers beneath your swimsuit bottoms. “How are you so wet?”

You laughed. “We’re in a jacuzzi, everything is wet.”

“Not like this,” he said, biting your shoulder before licking the same spot. “I can tell the difference between you and the water. The water isn’t so slick. It isn’t even so warm,” a finger slipped inside you and your head fell to his shoulder. “So tight.”

You felt his firm length beneath you and reached down, needing to feel him in your hand. “You’re so hard already,” you moaned. His fingers began to pump slowly inside you, his thumb swirling over your clit in a way that made it hard to think. “Do you want me that bad?”

“I want you. So bad, baby,” he said, shivering as you wrapped your hand around his cock and began to pump. “But I don’t have protection. So I’m going to have to get you off like this. I need to see you cum, I want to see the face you make. I bet it’s so pretty.” You didn’t answer, too lost in the feeling of his fingers inside you, over you. Your eyes fluttered shut as heat began to swirl in your belly.

“Close,” you whimpered, grinding your hips faster to chase the high. 

“Come on baby, you can do it. Come for me. Just like that. So pretty.” The encouragement sent you over the edge along with his voice, low and husky with lust. You trembled as you came apart, gasping at the overwhelming pleasure. When it was over, you slumped against him, taking a moment to catch your breath. Your hand had stilled on his still hard cock, and as soon as you had even remotely recovered, you wanted it.

“I have protection,” you said. “I always keep a condom in my suitcase. Just in case.”

He smiled, leaning in to kiss you. “Smart girl. Responsible girl.” He looked at you carefully, gauging your reaction as he continued to play with your pussy. “Good girl.” He must have felt as you gushed and twitched at his praise, for his smile widened sinfully. “Let’s get out and get on the bed to do this. There has to be some sort of health hazard to sex in a hotel jacuzzi.”

You laughed as you regretfully pulled yourself apart from him to exit the water. That laughter died as soon as his fingers slipped out of you. The sudden emptiness was entirely unacceptable. After rushing to dry off as quickly as possible, you rifled around in your suitcase until you found the condom and tossed it over to Jimin, who was running a towel over himself. You both peeled off your wet swimsuits and hung them up like responsible adults before crawling onto the bed. You glanced down to confirm Jimin had slipped the condom over himself. His dick stood firm, long and thick and ready for you. 

“I need you,” you whispered, sliding under him and pulling his face down until his lips met your own. You slanted your hips upwards, brushing your pussy against his length. 

“So impatient,” he said, running his dick over your folds. “Can you take me? Are you wet enough? I can go down on you first if you want.”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t, so focused on the way his cock was running along your sex. He took your lack of response as a ‘no’ and began to pull away, but you grabbed him. “No, no. I don’t want to wait. I’m plenty wet. Trust me. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this turned on.”

“Me either,” he answered, breathless as he pressed inside you. “God, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” you moaned as he settled his hips against yours, fully inside. 

“Are you good? Can I move?”

You nodded, “So good. Please move.” 

He didn’t waste another second, slowly pulling out before pressing back in and gradually increasing his speed. He pumped with a smooth roll to his hips that had you briefly wondering if he was a dancer. The control he had over his body, the way he was able to reach the innermost parts of you with fluid strokes, had you guessing he was. But then he hit that spot deep inside you that rendered you unable to think much of anything other than the feeling of him.

He grabbed one leg, hoisting it up and resting it over his arm before leaning down to kiss you. “You look so fucking incredible. I wish you could see how well you take my dick. How hot my girl is.”

You could do no more than mewl at his words as he pounded into you, the new position allowing him to reach even deeper. He hammered against your g-spot with every stroke, and you felt yourself almost vibrating with your impending orgasm.

“Are you close, baby? I can feel you getting even tighter.” You closed your eyes, pushing your head into the pillow when he grabbed your chin and slipped his thumb into your mouth. You sucked on instinct, opening your eyes to look into his own hungry ones. “That’s it baby, I want to see that pretty face again. I need to see how your eyes roll back into your head when you come.”

You bit down hard on him when the wave crashed into you, drowning you entirely in pleasure. The world shuddered black and white as you trembled, coming apart so entirely on his cock that you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to put yourself back together. A few more pumps that you barely even felt through the power of your orgasm and Jimin finished, collapsing beside you. 

“I need,” you slurred, drunk with pleasure (and a little bit of champagne, still). “To sleep now. That was incredible.”

Jimin huffed out a breathless laugh. “You have to get cleaned up first, babe.”

“I don’t think I can walk.”

He pressed a kiss to your brow. “Then I did my job well. I’ll take care of it. Just go to sleep.”

You curled into the covers, drifting away almost as soon as he was finished speaking. You vaguely felt as he cleaned you up with a warm, damp cloth, but that was all before you slipped into a deep, restful sleep.

JIMIN:

Jimin was yanked from the best sleep he’d had in ages by the alarm blaring on his phone. Eyes flying open, he felt disoriented as he glanced about the room. He sat in a ruffled, empty bed, but this wasn’t his hotel room, was it? 

As soon as he laid his eyes on the jacuzzi, drunken memories came back in a rush. This was y/n’s hotel room. He and y/n had…. Wait. Where was she?

“Y/n?” he called out, climbing out of bed and checking the bathroom. He checked the closet, there were no clothes. No sign that she had ever even been here. Surely he hadn’t imagined the night before. Even in his wildest dreams he couldn’t have come up with sex that good. And how else would he be waking in a different hotel room? 

Guilt gnawed at him as he thought of her, and why she may have vanished without a word in the morning. He’d never had the chance to explain why he had always been cold to her before. They’d been lost in conversation all night and then… well. Alcohol had lowered his inhibitions and his thought processing. He should have explained, ironed everything out, before jumping into bed with her. What must she think of him? Rude, until he had the chance to fuck her? He cringed, hoping that wasn’t the case. But why else would she be gone now? 

He grabbed his phone, hoping to send her a message before realizing he didn’t even have her number. He was just starting to really like her, becoming more and more enchanted the longer they’d talked, and he already royally fucked this up. With a sigh, he pushed his hand through his hair and grabbed his still damp swimsuit, pulling it on just for coverage before heading back to his room and packing up to head home. 

Y/N:

You’d fought off tears the entire drive home from the retreat, filled with regret. How could you sleep with Jimin, who had always made it clear he didn’t like you? And worse, after spending the weekend with him, getting to know him, you were actually starting to really like him. 

Your first instinct when you got home was to call Heather and tell her since she was only friend of yours that knew you both, but you thought better of it after careful consideration. You were still new to this school, after all, and though you didn’t think Heather would tell anyone else, you didn’t want to risk word getting out that you’d had a one night stand with a coworker. 

So, you picked up the phone and called Lisa instead. Sure, she didn’t know Jimin directly, but you had complained to her enough in the past about your hot asshole coworker, so she had the background to understand the gravity of what had happened. 

“Hey,” Lisa said, answering on the first ring. “‘Sup. How was that retreat? Are you driving home?”

“I’m home now, but I actually called to talk to you about that. The retreat was fine, but do you remember that colleague I told you about that was nice to everyone but me?”

“The music teacher?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course. What happened? Was he a dick to you this weekend? I bet it was awkward having to be at a retreat together.”

“Well that’s the thing. It was weird. He was nice all weekend.”

“What? That is weird. Maybe someone talked to him and told him to stop being an ass?”

That thought had not occurred to you, but you brushed it aside for the moment, focused on telling Lisa the rest of the story. You rushed through it, divulging all the details about how he’d been friendly since the start of the weekend and you’d decided to match his energy to avoid conflict. How you’d been lost in conversation at the bar that final night and drunkenly invited him up to your room for the jacuzzi. How he’d fucked you better than you’d ever been fucked, and lastly how you’d slipped out of bed the next morning and rushed out the door, panicking. 

“Holy fucking shit,” she said when you were finally finished. “So you didn’t say anything?”

“No, I left while he was sleeping.”

“Has he texted you or anything?”

You pulled your phone away from your ear to check for notifications from an unknown number. “No. I’m sure he’s feeling the same way I am this morning. Embarrassed. Maybe he’s also repulsed.”

“You don’t know that, I’m sure that’s not the case. Does he even have your number to reach out if he wants to?”

“Now that I think about it, probably not. I don’t remember ever giving it to him.”

“So he doesn’t even have the opportunity to contact you.”

You merely hummed in response, unsure how to feel about that.

“What do you want to do now, do you like him?”

You chewed your lip, weighing your answer. “That’s part of the reason this sucks. I think I do like him. Especially after last night. I’ve never had that sort of chemistry with someone, especially not the first time having sex. It was crazy. But, he hates me.”

“You don’t know that,” she reiterated. “Maybe whatever was up his ass earlier in the school year died and fell out. I don’t know, y/n, but I think you should talk to him. If you want to. If you don’t, then fuck him.”

“Thats the problem, Lis, I did fuck him,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “I’ll have to talk to him eventually, we’re working on this annual music performance thing together. But that’s not for another couple of weeks, so I think I can avoid him for a while.”

“I’m not sure if avoiding him is the way to go, but I support women’s rights and wrongs so I’ll back you whatever you do.” You smiled, grateful to have someone like her in your corner. “Look, I gotta go, but think about it. And call me tomorrow after you’re back at school, I want to know how it goes.” 

“Will do,” you said, hanging up the phone and heaving a sigh. You had no idea what you were going to do.

JIMIN:

The past week had been agony for Jimin. At first he was looking forward to getting back to school, hoping to see Y/n and speak to her, maybe ask for her number and take her out. But he hadn’t had sight or sound of her on Monday. On Tuesday he bumped into her in the break room before class. His heart soared until he caught the look on her face- pure panic- as she abruptly stood from her seat and rushed out of the room without a word. 

That happened a few more times throughout the week, enough that Jimin got the message that Y/n was avoiding him loud and clear. Clearly, she needed space after what happened. She must regret it, must dislike him after the way he’d treated you for the first half of the school year, and who was he to blame you? He probably would have felt the same way. But that didn’t make it sting any less. 

By the end of the week he simply couldn’t take it any longer. It pained him, he wanted to see her smile again, wanted to hear her laugh and talk to her again. But instead she rushed out of any room he walked into. So he picked up the phone and called the one person who knew about the situation.

“Erick, I fucked up,” he said as soon as his friend answered the phone. “That teacher I told you about, the one that took your job. You were right, when you guessed that I liked her. I didn’t know it then, but we had this retreat last weekend and long story short we had a few drinks and may have ended up hooking up.”

“Really? So you made up for the way you acted before?”

Jimin cringed. “That’s the thing, I didn’t get a chance to talk to her about that. To apologize.”

“What do you mean you didn’t get the chance? If you hooked up clearly you spent some time together. You could have said it then.”

“Well, yeah, I should have said it then. Before having sex with her. But we just got lost in conversation, I didn’t want to spoil the mood. I was enjoying getting to know her.”

“Okay, why didn’t you talk to her after?”

“She’s been avoiding me like the plague ever since. She was gone when I woke up, and I don’t have her number.”

“Get it from someone else. Surely someone at work has it.”

“I don’t want to overstep. She is clearly telling me, without actually telling me, that she needs space. I’ve already crossed a line by sleeping with her. I don’t want to make it worse by disrespecting her boundaries.”

Erick laughed, and Jimin scowled at the noise. “What?” he snapped. 

“Jimin, you’re an idiot. You’re giving her space because you’re afraid to talk to her and you’re making excuses to make yourself feel better about it.”

Jimin was silent, stewing at the truth in the words that he didn’t want to accept. When he didn’t speak for a moment, Erick continued. “You shouldn’t be giving her space right now unless she explicitly asks for it. You were a dick to her all year, then you two slept together, and now you’re not making any effort to talk to her about it? The ball is in your court, man. You need to fix this if you want to get anywhere with her. Even if it’s just to be cordial coworkers.”

“Now that I’ve…” he hesitated, trying to choose the right words. “Now that I’ve been with her, seen a different side to her, I don’t know if I could handle just being coworkers. That night would always be seared into my mind whenever I looked at her.”

“That good, huh?”

“The best.”

“Then you need to fix it.”

Y/N:

The door to the music classroom stood, menacing, before you. You’d been staring at it for the better part of five minutes, trying to work up the courage to knock. Taking a deep breath, you shifted the bag full of the flower decorations the kids had made to one arm and lifted the other, making a fist but stopping just short of the door, freezing once again.

Abruptly the door swung open, leaving you face to face with a startled Jimin. “Oh,” he said stiffly. “Hi.”

You awkwardly laughed, putting your hand down. “Sorry, I was just about to knock. I have the decorations, the kids finished at the end of last week. The flowers are in this bag, the snowflakes in the other. I had them put their names on the backs so they can pick them out and give them to their families.”

His eyes darted down to the two bags in your hands. “Great, thank you. Um, do you want to come inside for a minute?” He asked, stepping aside from the door to make room for you to pass.

“Uh, okay, sure…” you said. “Where do you want these?”

“I’ll take them,” he said, grabbing both bags from you. He opened one, peering inside and smiled. “These are perfect, Y/n. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, shifting from foot to foot. You didn’t know if you’d ever felt this uncomfortable before. However, at the same time your body was reacting to being in the same room with him for the first time since you’d left the hotel. Your skin was hot, and you felt tingly in your lower belly. Why did he have to smell so good? Like eucalyptus and winter. 

You needed to get out of here before you did something stupid. “Is that all?” you said. “I should go.” You took a step towards the door but he rushed forward, grabbing your wrist loosely with one hand. 

“Wait, Y/n, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“We don’t have to talk about what happened,” you said, trying and failing to laugh it off. “It’s all good.”

“No, it’s not. Please, just let me explain some things.”

“I-” you hesitated, looking towards the door. You wanted to rush out the door and escape the tension of the situation, but you knew that wouldn’t make anything better. The least you could do is hear him out. “Okay.”

“Alright,” Jimin dropped your hand and stuffed both of his in his pockets before leaning against his desk. “When you got hired, it was on the heels of one of my closest friends being let go.” Your mouth opened in shock, but Jimin held up a hand to stop you from speaking. “Just let me finish, I want to get this right. He was up for tenure, but instead of giving it to him, they laid him off and hired a brand new art teacher.” He gestured towards you. “I… obviously didn’t handle it well. I was angry on his behalf, and rather than taking it out on the school board who was actually responsible, I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sorry.”

You paused for a moment, digesting his words. “I had no idea, that’s really shitty of the school to do.”

“Yes, it is. This district doesn’t really give a fuck about their teachers, but that’s beside the point. The point is that I was an asshole and I shouldn’t have been. Erick didn’t want this job anyway. When I told him how I’d been acting, he scolded me.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You deserved it.”

“I know. Y/n, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. Especially after getting to know you better this weekend. I- I think you’re a great person. You’re interesting, and beautiful, and were kind to me even though I definitely didn’t deserve it.”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks flush hot with the praise. “I really appreciate it. I’m sorry as well, for being kind of a brat when you asked me to help with the decorations. I know it must have been difficult for you to ask, and it sucks that the school left you in the lurch this year. I should have just helped without complaining. And I’m sorry for saying my kids’ decorations were going to outshine your show. That was childish of me.”

He grinned. It was perhaps the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

You sighed, feeling lighter. “So we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

JIMIN:

The big day had come, and Jimin wiped sweaty palms on his pants nervously. No matter how many times he put on this show, the nerves never got better. Kids were unpredictable, and he always felt pressure to improve upon the year before. That was difficult this year, considering his refusal to spend his own money again.

For the last couple of months, the main focus of each music class was learning the songs and the structure of the performance. The kids had been doing wonderfully at practice the last two weeks, and he could tell how excited they were for the big day. He’d taken the decorations the kids made and sprinkled the snowflakes throughout the seats in the auditoriums. The kids all had their own flowers, so they would give those to their families during the last song, symbolizing the end of winter and the coming of spring. Though they weren’t all perfect, Jimin hoped that the personal touches of the decorations would make up for any flaws. 

“Alright everyone!” Jimin said, addressing the 2nd graders in their choir stands. He whispered behind the curtain, trying to avoid being heard by the audience. “We’ve gone over this, you know these songs like the backs of your hands! Let’s make this the best performance Darling Elementary has ever seen!”

He gave the cue for the music to start and as the children began to sing, the curtains slowly opened. Jimin rushed off to the side, not wanting to block the view. He’d be right there to step in if he was needed, but he felt confident that the kids could rattle off the songs without him. His eyes scanned the crowd, smiling as he gazed out over the grinning faces of teachers and parents. 

His smile widened when his eyes snagged on Y/n out in the audience. He’d felt better since their chat a few weeks back, ironing things out. But, he still had not said everything he’d wanted to say, and he had been too busy with any last minute preparations to slip over to the art room during school. And, damn him, he still hadn’t gotten her number. 

While he knew he should really peel his eyes away from her and focus on the kids, he just couldn’t. She looked so beautiful, eyes shining and lips curled up into a smile as she watched the kids sing and do their hard-practiced little dances. Throughout the entire performance he simply couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

As the last song started, the kids pulled their flowers from their pockets, making their way down into the audience to find their loved ones while still singing. They gave them their flowers and returned back up to the stage as the song came to a close, ending the show. Jimin stepped out to bow along with them, addressing the crowd for the first time. 

“Thank you all for coming! We hope you enjoyed the fifth annual Darling Elementary spring recital.” His eyes followed Y/n as she stood, preparing to leave with the crowd. Compelled to speak to her at once, he rushed off stage to catch up with her. Parents immediately surrounded him, congratulating him on another job well done, another great performance this year, what a wonderful touch having the kids create the props, and though he was grateful, he really was, all he could think of was y/n leaving. He’d missed so many opportunities to say everything he wanted to say, he’d be damned if he missed another. 

“Thank you so much,” he said, smiling and trying his best to be friendly though he felt rushed. “I just have to speak to someone quickly, but I appreciate everyone’s kind words!”

He slipped through the crowd, trying not to be rude as people tried to stop him. He chased her all the way out to the parking lot, shivering in his suit jacket as he called her name. She stopped, hand stretched towards the driver's side door of what must have been her car. 

“Jimin?” she looked startled, brows pinching in confusion as she put her gloved hand above her eyes to block out the sun.

He jogged over, murmuring a breathless “Hi” when he finally reached her.

“What are you doing? You should still be in there, talking to people.” 

“I know, I-” He turned, shooting a glance back towards the school. “I just saw you out there, in the audience. And I knew I needed to talk to you.”

“Okay?” 

“People were complimenting the decorations. Thank you again for helping with those.”

“You said thank you already,” she replied, and if he didn’t know better he’d think she seemed… disappointed. Like she’d been hoping he would say something else. 

“I know. That’s… not really what I wanted to come out here and say.”

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. 

“Look, Y/n, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the retreat. I think you’re amazing, and I want to spend more time with you. Get to know you more.”

Her cheeks were flushed pink, and Jimin wasn’t sure if it was the chill or the effect his words had on her. “I would like that too, but-”

“But?” his heart stuttered in his chest.

“I don’t know how appropriate it would be, us being coworkers and all. If something happened, if it didn’t work out. My reputation could be on the line. What happened at the retreat was amazing, but it was unexpected.”

He smiled. “Is that all? Well I haven’t told Principal Walker yet, but I received an offer from another school. It seems word of the recitals has gotten out, I was approached by a music school. After what happened with Erick and the budget this year I’ve been hoping to switch schools, so the timing seemed perfect. Plus, there’s this incredible woman at my current school that doesn’t want to date a coworker.”

“Jimin,” you gasped. “Really?”

“Really. This will be my last year at this school. So, that being said, will you go out with me?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling up at him. “When?”

“Right now?”

“Now?!” she balked, laughing.

“I’ve been waiting to spend more time with you for weeks, I don’t want to wait any longer. So let’s go grab a drink. We can celebrate the recital.”

“And your new job,” she added. “I’d love to go grab a drink with you.”

“Amazing. I just have one more question.”

“Hmm?” she hummed as he inched closer. He reached up and lightly ran his fingers over her jaw. He did not miss the way her breath hitched at his touch.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, his lips brushing hers. He felt rather than saw her smile before pressing her lips to his. It was like having water after a drought, getting to touch her again. He’d only had one taste but that was enough to have him addicted. He couldn’t wait to find out what the future would bring for them, together. 

[jananakookie]

Rumor Has It | pjm - Chapter 8

💬 Pairing: Jimin x OC (Reader)

💬 Genre/Tags: enemies(?) to lovers, fake-dating au; angst, fluff, smut

💬 Chapter warnings: Jimin has dirty thoughts, bits of jealousy here and there

💬 Word count: 8.2k

💬 Recap:

Rumor has it, Park Jimin is single again after his latest girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend.

Rumor has it, he's willing to get back at them.

Rumor has it, you're the perfect means to an end.

Previous Chapter - Index - Next Chapter

Chapter 8: Past Ties, Present Tensions.

A week has passed since Jimin's and your night together. You shouldn't be so relaxed about it, but you must admit it was probably the best thing that could have happened to you two. 

Admittedly, the morning after was a bit awkward at first. You weren't sure what to say and didn't know how he would react. Luckily, you're both pros at shaving off unpleasant situations and not taking yourselves too seriously, so it passed quickly. Not long after, you were yourselves again, fooling around and making jokes about it.

Now it feels like you just fucked away all the sexual tension and frustration that was undoubtedly in the air, making more room for the things that really matter. Like saving your reputation and… whatever Jimin wants out of this. 

You have stopped trying to understand what he wants from Yeji. After your last talk, you're sure his biggest anger is directed at Taehyung instead of her. It's up to him if he can forgive her and wants her back––even if you could never understand it. It's not your place to judge his love life. 

Once this deal is over, you'll likely have no further connection with him, so it's best not to get too involved in his life in the first place. He neither wants nor needs your advice. While things may seem friendlier now, you're still nothing but a means to an end. And that end is supposed to be Yeji.

It shouldn’t feel so strange to think about this, but you can’t change your feelings. You can say many things about him, and not everything will be positive, but Jimin is basically your life right now—in the most unromantic way possible. The status of your relationship doesn’t really matter; he is still the sole reason you’ve been leaving your house lately, whether you like it or not.

It's the events he invites you to, his friends you spend time with, and he's the only reason you can be around people without receiving stupid comments.

In a way, this is the best time you've had in a while, but it's just an illusion. As sad as it sounds, you had nothing before him and you'll have nothing when he's gone again. It's a bitter pill to swallow.

These are the thoughts that keep you awake these days and these are the reasons why you need this emotional distance from him. At the end of the day, he’s not your friend and he never will be. 

Even now, this moment, while you're spending time with Nayeon, these thoughts are buzzing around in your head and distracting you from what she is saying. 

“You can join me and my cousin on our shopping trip. I’ll show you around, we’ll go clubbing… just us girls. It would be so much more fun with you around,” Nayeon suggests, pouting a little to pursue you. 

You grin, leaning back against the tree with a contended sigh as you shake your head. “An extended weekend alone won’t kill me, Nayeon. I’ll be fine,” you counter. “I don't mind being on my own for a while. And don’t act like I could afford any of that,” you wink, partly joking, partly not. The shops Nayeon and her cousin shop at are a hundred percent out of your financial capability.

“I’ll pay?” She sends you an innocent grin but quickly takes it back when she sees the look you give her and replaces it with a displeased growl. “Then ask Jimin for some pocket money! It's the least he can do if he's going to leave you here alone for four days,” she whines, sending death glares to a nonpresent Jimin. 

“I told you before, I’m the one who didn’t want to come and I’m totally fine with staying here by myself for a few days. I promise.”

There's an upcoming extended weekend, and Jimin is spending it with his family in their vacation home in God knows where. He’s asked you multiple times to join them, telling you his parents have asked you to come and join them but you declined for many reasons. The biggest one is that you have no business being there on their family vacation. 

The first time you met his family was nerve-wracking enough; you don't have to repeat that, especially not for several days at a time––you know you'll mess it up somehow.

“He hasn’t spent any time alone with his family in forever. I’ll let him have that,” you explain. “We really don’t need to see each other every single day. That’s not healthy anyway,” you try to reason, although Nayeon strongly disagrees. 

“As his girlfriend, you’re a part of his family. He’d love to have you there, I’m sure.”

You love how concerned she is for you but it’s hard when she never accepts your excuses as to why you can’t always do these lovey coupley stuff things with her best friend and it’s a little bothersome.

“Nah, sorry. I already have a hot date with my TV and a frozen pizza. Gotta get back to my roots,” you wink, earning a soft slap to your shoulder that makes you laugh. “Mijoo’s boyfriend isn’t coming either so I thought it’d be a good opportunity.” 

“Yeah but no one wants him there in the first place, I’m afraid,” Nayeon states. 

“Not you too! Leave that poor kid alone, oh my God.”

Nayeon bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but join in, although you still feel a bit guilty about it. As your laughter gradually fades, you notice Jimin approaching. His dance lesson has run over time again, and you both agreed to meet here once he finishes. You see him scanning the area for you, and finally, his gaze lands on you after Nayeon kindly waves him over.

You show him a smile, which he returns before someone seems to call him from behind and he stops and turns.

From a distance, you can't understand anything, but you can see that Leah is the one who approaches him and gives him something. Jimin takes it and says something before he turns back around but she quickly grabs his arm and says something else.

“Ugh, I hate when she does that.”

You tear your gaze from the scene to Nayeon, who is watching them as well but with a displeased frown on her otherwise perfect face. 

“Who? Leah?” You ask as she nods affirmatively.

“She just can't let it go, it’s pathetic,” she sighs, looking at you. “You’re better than me. If I were in your shoes, I would have told her off by now.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Aren’t you a bit dramatic? She’s not doing anything. As far as I know, Jimin is helping her with an upcoming performance or something.” 

“Babe, trust me. She doesn’t need his help for anything, she just wants to be around him,” she replies, looking displeased.

You pause for a moment while you study Leah's body language. Her hand is still on Jimin's arm, and even at that distance, it's clear she's flirting. It reminds you of the dance lesson you accidentally barged into and how she behaved there. Maybe Nayeon is not entirely wrong. But this is technically none of your business although you can’t tell her that. 

You shrug, fishing your phone out of your pocket, and try to occupy yourself with something else instead. “I’m sure he can handle one or two fangirls.”

“Of course. I didn’t want to plant any negative thoughts into your head, I’m sorry if I did that.” Nayeon apologies. “It’s just… given the circumstances, it would probably bother me more than you right now but maybe that’s the problem. I'm so pre-loaded by my previous relationship that I lack confidence. Jimin would never do anything like that. He's not like Taehyung.”

You understand what she means. Her history with Taehyung has left her with scars, but you're sure that she's far from being the only one who feels this way. You even have your own trust issues. You would never judge her for that. And even if you don't see this situation with Leah as half as dramatic as Nayeon does, there's still something in what she said that makes you wonder.

“What circumstances?” 

She halts for just about a moment before she speaks. “Well you know… their past and all that. It would bother me if I was in your position.”

Nayeon sounds hesitant and her face changes from concerned to alarmed when she sees the confusion in your eyes. 

“He hasn’t told you.”

“Hasn’t told me…”

“That they used to sleep with each other,” she explains. “She was basically the one to help him get over Yeji. You must know about that, no?”

Her reaction suggests that your silence is enough of a response. “I’m so sorry, ___! I didn’t know! I shouldn’t have said anything.” Nayeon sounds genuinely heartbroken for you and you wonder if your facial expression is doing anything it isn’t supposed to. So you quickly gather yourself and offer her an uninterested shrug. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m fine.”

“You know what? You’re right.“ Nayeon scoffs, sending glares toward Jimin. “He was the one who should have told you. I can’t believe he didn’t,” she fumes. 

“He doesn’t have to tell me about everyone he was sexually involved with before we even met,” you reason. He doesn’t have to tell you anything really. Although it would have been nice if you had known since you feel pretty stupid now.

"I believe it would be the most respectful thing to inform you about that if it involves someone he is clearly still in contact with," she insists. "He's a good guy. I know it might not mean anything, but it feels pretty inconsiderate towards you."

You must admit that she has a point here. If Jimin was your actual boyfriend, it would probably make you feel uncomfortable, which is why you can understand Nayeon's reaction. But he isn’t your boyfriend and you’re not allowed to feel anything towards this revelation so the fact that it does bother you in some way, is bothering you in a whole different way. 

“You have to talk to him about it. I love him, but his stupid boy brain probably doesn't even know he's done anything wrong, so you have to confront him about it, okay?”

“I will,” you sigh. “Just don’t say anything now,” you plead, seeing Jimin walk over to you.

He’s smiling as he breaks into a soft jog to join you a little sooner but it disappears as soon as his eyes fall on Nayeon’s death glare, that’s undoubtedly directed at him.

“Hey. Sorry, it took me so long.”

“I’m sure you are.” Nayeon doesn’t hold back even a little and you’re going to strangle her later for making this a bigger deal than it has to be.

He looks at her confused, giving you a chance to send glares her way. “What crawled up your ass?” 

Nayeon ignores your subtle hints and grabs her bag before looking at him with a look that’s anything but nice. “Your audacity, Jimin. Your audacity.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He is now directing his question more toward you, realizing that he is not on Nayeon’s good side right now even if he has no idea why. 

You don’t even know what to say or do, so you just avert your eyes and try not to get involved. 

Nayeon doesn’t say anything else to him and just waves at you to tell you she’ll leave now, not without giving you a certain look that tells you to have that talk with Jimin. 

Moments like this make you wish she knew the truth. It's unfair to lie to her when there's no good reason. Plus, you feel guilty for constantly lying to your friend.

She probably wouldn't approve of your plan, but she wouldn't tell anyone either. You can be sure of that. Besides, it would make so many things easier, especially for you. Sometimes you just need someone to complain to about Jimin. Jungkook doesn't count.

“Am I tripping or is she mad at me?” Jimin asks you this time directly. 

“Yes, she is.” You sigh, dreading this conversation already.

“Well, are you going to tell me the reason?” 

You let out a quiet groan and cover your face with your hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you used to be involved with Leah?” you blurt out, immediately cursing yourself for sounding so offended.

Jimin looks taken aback, opening and closing his mouth a few times before clearing his throat. He gives a somewhat shy smile and rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t think that would be important.”

You hate yourself for even bringing it up and now having to have this conversation with him when it concerns something that is none of your business. You don't even want to imagine what he might think.

“It’s not!” You squeal, coughing right after. The words leave your mouth a little too fast. “I mean, I don’t care,” you clarify, watching him just nod his head but looking even more confused. 

“Yea, didn’t think you would which is why I never said anything,” he chuckles. “So why are you asking me now?”

You groan again, cursing not only yourself but Nayeon for bringing it up. “I don’t even know. It’s stupid.”

However, you've already said too much and you know he isn't going to relent now, so you decide to give him a quick run-through of your and Nayeon's conversation earlier. 

“Nayeon was complaining about her 'still trying with you' and was wondering why I was so okay with it considering your past. I clearly didn’t know what she meant and now she’s mad at you because she thinks you intentionally kept this little detail from me—which would be pretty shitty from you if we were actually dating which we aren’t, but I can’t tell her that so… it’s awkward now. Sorry.” 

Jimin sighs, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “This is typical for her. She loves sticking her nose in other people’s business and making it her problem. She’ll come around,” he waves it off, seemingly not giving it a second thought, which is not to your satisfaction.

You don’t agree with him on this. He might be right about her making your situation her problem but she doesn't do it out of boredom or because she's curious. You understand her intention behind it.

“I think you misjudge her reaction,” you say, crossing your arms in defense. “She’s just trying to be a good friend to me. Purposely keeping that from me would be a pretty shitty thing from you if we were actually dating which we aren’t. But she doesn’t know that and I can’t tell her so… it’s not her fault. She’s being a real one.”

Jimin scoffs and turns away from you, checking his phone without saying another word, which only makes you angrier.

“Why the attitude now?” You confront him, not seeing the point of letting him off so easily. Not when he decides to be immature about this. 

“What attitude, ___?” He sighs, clearly showing that he is now tired of you as well. 

“You’re being a dick about it and I don’t get why,” you snap. 

“I’m not being a dick. I just don’t feel like discussing my past hookups right now and I still don’t get why you care.”

“I don’t care!” You state, starting to really get annoyed. “You can do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t involve me and guess what? It does. It would have been nice to know that you've slept several times with that one girl you always have private dance lessons with and who is always around you, so I don't look like a clueless idiot when I'm asked about it. Cause tell you what, it was really fucking awkward and it was just Nayeon. I don’t even want to imagine what everyone else is saying about it. You think that has no influence on what is said about us?”

“For the record, she’s not always around. At all. We share a dance class and sometimes I stay behind to help her with something she doesn’t quite get. Nothing more, nothing less. I’ve never heard anyone say anything about it because I’m very careful about that and I still don’t get why it's that big of a deal for you. Why does it matter what a few individual idiots might think? Everything is going great.”

“Oh?” You raise your brows, feigning surprise. “That’s interesting because I remember it was a very big deal for you when this was about Jeon and me.”

“That was different—”

“Why?“ You cut him off. “Because you were the one that was made fun of? Because you can handle it better when people talk about me instead of you?”

Jimin’s eyes go soft at your words and he lowers his head with a soft sigh. “No, of course not.”

Your gaze on him remains sharp as he looks at you again. 

“I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry. I didn’t consider what it’s like from your perspective.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, and you hate yourself for how attractive you think he looks right now when this is the completely wrong moment for thoughts like that. 

“Look, what happened between Leah and me was never anything serious. Not in the slightest. We hooked up for a while because it was convenient. Well, at least for me but that was it. It was just a couple of times and we always parted right after so… no big deal. I didn’t tell you about it because it wasn’t necessary at the beginning; we weren’t close or anything and we barely ever hung out when we didn't have to. She recently asked me if I could help her with a few new steps and I thought nothing of it and agreed. That’s it. But I understand your concerns and she undoubtedly is a bit… clingy. I’ll tell her to find someone else to help her.”

“No, you don’t have to do that,” you frown. “That’s not what I wanted.”

“But you’re right. It really doesn’t look good. And she does get a bit too close at times. I don’t want her to get any wrong ideas. I’m taken after all,” he argues, sending a wink your way that makes a strange feeling appear in your stomach area.

“Do whatever you need to do. I just don’t want to be involved.”

He hums, not saying anything more. You don’t look at him but when he turns strangely quiet you do, seeing him smirk at you. 

“What?” You ask, arching a brow. 

Jimin chuckles, wrapping his arm around you and bringing you closer to his side. “You’re kinda hot when you’re jealous.”

You almost spit out the remains of your drink, suddenly getting into a coughing fit as you hear Jimin’s sinister laugh next to your ear.

“I am NOT jealous!” You deny and deliberately push him away from you. “Have you understood anything of what I just explained to you?”

You pout, realizing he doesn’t take you seriously at all; he’s still laughing so hard that his eyes disappear completely. Fed up with him, you stand up, ready to leave and escape from him. However, he reacts quickly and grabs your hand before you can go, pulling you back into him. 

“Man. This is going to be hard,” he sighs, fighting against your attempts to get yourself free from his grip and smiling when your groans turn into slight giggles. 

After you have regained your composure, you find yourselves in a position that does not suggest that you were arguing just a few minutes before. Jimin is leaning against the tree and you're lying on your back with your head in his lap. You enjoy the feeling of him playing with your hair as you absentimindedly pick apart a daisy.

It's a calming atmosphere that even allows you to ignore the noise of other students.

“You’re gonna be okay this weekend?” Jimin's soft voice suddenly rings out.

You form an answer with a certain look you give him. “Why is everyone asking me this as if I’m incapable of being by myself? It’s just four days. I’ll survive,” you chuckle, trying to poke his cheek from your current position to get rid of that intense stare he's giving you. 

“I know you will but just in case… My parents would love to have you there,“ he says. 

“Me, not so much, but I would cope,” he then jokes, sending you a wink with it. “The house is right by the sea. Could be romantic. You, a bikini, me…”

“Ew, I don't need any more reasons not to come, Park. I've already made up my mind,” you cringe, dramatically shaking your head to dispel the image as you lift your head from his lap and sit up next to him.

“But it’s going to be so boring!” He whines, dramatically falling flat on the grass and covering his face. “I wanna make out on the beach,” he pouts peaking at you through his fingers. 

“You’ve never been less desirable,” you say in a dry tone, occupying yourself with your phone, not noticing him creeping up behind you until you feel his lips on your neck, reaching that spot right under your ear. Goosebumps break out all over your arms, and of course he notices. It makes you shut up real quick.

“You were saying?” He rasps, and even if you can’t see his face right now, you can imagine that huge smirk on his lips just fine. 

You straighten your back as you turn and look around to make sure nobody is watching you as you clear your throat. “Whatever. It won’t happen.” 

Jimin lets out a long sigh, mumbling something about this being the longest four days of his life, but he doesn’t pester you any further, which you’re very thankful for. 

“I received an invitation to Leah’s birthday party,” he informs you. “Are we going? It’s next week, apparently.”

You put your phone away and raise a brow in question as you look at him. “You’re asking me?”

“Well yes. We’re only going if it’s okay with you. If you think it could be uncomfortable, perhaps we should leave it alone. Your decision.” For a change, he sounds genuinely interested in your opinion on this without trying to annoy or make fun of you. 

You feel warm, knowing that despite his teasing, he understood your earlier conversation and is willing to let you decide what to do. 

“Was it you who received the invitation or us?” You grin, aware that there must be a reason Leah invited him separately from everyone else.

“Inviting me automatically means inviting you too,” he scoffs, not sharing your perspective. “She knows that.”

“If you say so,” you shrug. “You know her better than I do.” 

Why you feel the need to say that, you don’t even know and you bite your tongue right after, hating yourself for sounding so grumpy and silly when you already moved on from that topic. Plus you don’t want Jimin to get the wrong idea again because you are not jealous. You’re not. 

Lucky for you, he doesn’t catch up on your tone. It’s either that or he doesn’t comment on it, and knowing Jimin, he surely would. 

You don’t see the appeal in another unnecessary conflict so you swallow your distaste and muster up a smile. “We should go.”

“Really?” Judging by his expression, Jimin did not expect to hear that from you. 

“Sure.” You shrug. “Why not?” 

“Okay,“ he nods, showing you a considerate smile. “But now let's go back to the bikini one more time—”

You don't let him finish the thought before you stand up, rolling your eyes and telling him you’re going home.

It’s late and you’re already tucked under your cozy blanket, laying on your uncomfortable couch and scrolling through your phone when your doorbell rings. 

You’re certain you didn’t order anything; your mom would have called you first, and Jimin should be out with his family by now. So, your introverted and lazy self decides to ignore whoever it is at the door.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long before the doorbell rings again. 

Ringing the wrong doorbell once might be a mistake, but if the person tries again, it could be important. By now, you’re almost convinced that it must be Jimin making one last attempt to get you to join him in living out his unfulfilled fantasies.

You’re not exactly thrilled about being interrupted during your me-time, so when you open the door, you respond with a curt, “What?” However, your irritation turns to embarrassment when you find your new neighbor standing in front of you.

You saw each other for the first time a few weeks ago when he moved in, but you only had a fleeting conversation. He's the last person you expected to see at this time of night.

You gasp, quickly trying to cover yourself in front of the stranger. It's not that you're inappropriately dressed, but standing in front of a stranger in your much too big pajamas when you're not even wearing your bra doesn't happen usually. 

“I'm sorry, I hate to bother you this late,” he apologizes, seeing how startled you look. 

“No, no! I’m the one who’s sorry. I was expecting someone else,” you chuckle, brushing a loose strand behind your ear in a desperate attempt to make yourself look a bit less… unkempt.

“Can uhh can I help you with anything?” 

Your neighbor, you think you remember his name is Luca, nods and seems to remember the reason why he knocked on your door in the first place. “Yeah sorry, I was wondering if maybe you have a few eggs for me? I haven't managed to do any proper grocery shopping yet due to the stress of moving house and I just finished my workout. Need to get some protein in.”

His answer makes you grin inwardly. Of course, he's a gym bro. Jimin would have a field day making fun of him for that response alone.

“Sure, wait a second. I’ll get them.” You close your door, leaving a small crack open, as you head back into your apartment to get the eggs. It's odd that the door is now wide open when you return, and your neighbor is peering inside with curious eyes.

His gaze then falls on you as you come closer and hand him the box, which he takes with gratitude but he’s not making any moves to leave yet. “Your apartment looks just like mine, but mirrored,” he says, more or less just stating the obvious. 

“Yes, they’re pretty much all built the same.” 

You don’t want to be rude, but you wish he would leave now. Small talk isn’t your strongest suit and you still don’t feel comfortable in your current attire especially when your opponent is very handsome even in just a simple tank top and joggers. Unfortunately for you, he seems to be a friendly one, so you think it can't hurt to be friendly as well. You're neighbors now, so you'll be seeing and talking to each other more often anyway. No need to immediately show him how secluded you usually are.

“So… have you settled in yet?”

His face immediately brightens at your question and you feel a bit of sympathy. It must be hard to move to a new city where you don't know anyone yet. Although this does sound like your ideal dream, he seems like he's happy to be able to talk to someone here.

“I have. I really like it here so far.” He smiles, looking genuine. “I’ll start my new job after the holidays and I guess that is going to be a challenge, but I still have a few days until then to really settle in some more. It'll be fine.”

You spent some more time to talk and get to know him a bit and you learn that he's really quite nice, if a little too flirty at times. Not like Jimin and also not like Jungkook but in a different way that is sometimes a little bit too much for you. But it could also be because he's still a stranger to you and you don't know exactly how to deal with it. All in all, he seems fine and you're glad that someone like him has the apartment next to yours. 

As you laugh at something he said, someone enters the front door of your apartment building. You don’t pay much attention to it at first. Out of the corner of your eye, the person in the black hood looks familiar, but you assume it’s just another neighbor coming home.

Sensing the person approaching, you both finally turn to look in his direction. Even with the hood pulled down low over his face, you recognize him immediately.

Hearing the sound of your laughter, Jimin tilts his head up. His eyes lock onto you for a moment before glancing over at your new next-door neighbor with a raised brow.

“What are you doing here this late? I thought you had a family thing going on,” you gasp, momentarily forgetting your companion as your focus shifts to Jimin. At first glance, he appears a bit worn and tired, making you wonder if something happened, considering he should be at the Park family residence by now.

“I uh…“ he starts, sighing before he offers you a small smile. “Long story, actually. Can I come in?”

His hesitant reply makes you wary but you don't yet comment on it and give him a bit more space to enter your apartment. “Of course, come in.”

Jimin squeezes in next to you, and in your astonishment, you completely forget about Luca until you hear him clear his throat to make himself known.

“So, um, see you around, I guess?” he says with a chuckle, a bit uncomfortable. You immediately feel guilty about your rudeness. It seems wrong to abruptly cut off your conversation, but you don't want to make Jimin wait, and it's getting late. So, you offer Luca an apologetic smile and nod before wishing him a good night, which he returns.

Once inside, you find Jimin already raiding your fridge. “Who was that?” He asks nonchalantly when he notices you behind him. 

“Hm? Oh, no one,” you wave off, more interested in why he’s here. But then you suddenly notice something. “Oh my God, what happened to your hand?” You gasp as you examine his swollen, bruised hand.

“Mijoo and Dickface broke up,” he says, not seeming the slightest bit phased.

“What?” you exclaim. “Did you hit him? Jimin, he’s seventeen! He’s a minor!”

“He broke her heart, I broke his nose.” He shrugs carelessly. “Sounds fair to me.“

You can't believe how uninterested he is in such a situation. “You could get in so much trouble for this you big idiot,” you scoff.

“I know. My dad yelled at me for an hour. You don’t need to remind me. And still, I’d do it again,” he shrugs. “He shouldn’t have hurt her. I warned him from the start not to mess with her.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to let everything sink in for a moment before you sigh. Focus on the important things first. "How is she?" 

"I didn't talk to her much. When I got home, she was crying. As soon as I learned what had happened, I went to see Chanyeol. When I returned home, my parents blocked me and screamed at me until I left voluntarily. And now I'm here," he explains, chugging a big glass of water in almost one go.

“You’re unbelievable.“

“Unbelievably hot?“ He grins, unmistakably trying to lift the mood a little. 

“Unbelievably stupid,” you object. “What if he or his parents decide to report this? It won't look good on your resume. And if it gets around town with your father's business partners, have you considered that?“

He doesn’t respond, but the frown on his face shows that he clearly hasn’t thought about it.

“Look, no matter what you have to say, I promise you my dad has already said it,“ he sighs, gripping the empty glass tightly in his hand before placing it on the counter. “I appreciate your concern for my future, but I didn't come here for another lecture. I came here to escape exactly that.”

You're about to tell him that you don't care and that you're still going to lecture him all you want when you notice how exhausted he looks. His hand appears to be hurting badly, given how much he winces whenever he tries to move his fingers.

And instead, you go soft.

“Show me your hand,“ you demand, trying not to let on that you care a bit too much.

He looks up from it surprised but doesn’t make a move as he shakes his head. “Ah, it’s not that bad—“

“Jimin.“ You call out in a warning tone. “Let me see.“ 

He sighs but reluctantly offers you his hand so you can inspect it. It’s swollen, and the skin around his knuckles is slightly torn, but other than that, it doesn’t seem too serious. “You’re lucky; it doesn't appear to be broken,” you say, glancing up into his eyes and noticing that he’s already looking at you.

You take a moment to grab a cold pack from your freezer, wrap it in a cloth, and place it in Jimin's hand. “This should work for now. Well, it’s all I can do anyway.”

“Thanks,” he replies, giving you a kind smile, though it’s clear there’s something else on his mind. You decide to press him for more information.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Would it be okay if I stayed the night?” he asks hesitantly. “Things got a bit heated at home, so I left without my stuff. As far as I know, the guys aren’t home tonight, so I wouldn’t be able to get into my place either.”

You didn't expect him to leave in the first place, and since you have no plans, you tell him that his request isn't a problem for you. 

Jimin looks incredibly relieved when he realizes he doesn't have to go back to his parent's house—at least for today. You're glad to be able to give him that. Even if he can be annoying, you wouldn't just let him run off in such a situation.

“So, you canceled a romantic weekend at the beach and the exclusive chance to see me lying in the sun, shirtless and sweaty, for this?” He suddenly asks, gesturing to your baggy pajamas, the fluffy blanket, and the now cold tea on your little coffee table.

You'd rather interrogate him about what happened at his parents' house than engage in that type of banter again, but you recognize that he clearly doesn't want to discuss it and is trying to lighten the mood.

“Looks like it,” you shrug. “Thanks for interrupting my plans for the evening.” 

He lets out a soft, humorless laugh, his eyes intensely focused on your face. “Yeah, seemed like I was interrupting indeed.”

Taken aback by his sudden use of a sassy tone, you raise a brow in question. “Excuse me?” You ask, copying his tone. “Is there anything you have to say?”

“It was just an observation. That’s all.” He pretends not to care, but you know him better than that. 

“Oh.” You smirk, enjoying the turn of events a little too much. “Look who’s jealous now.”

“Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?” He chuckles, looking nothing short of cocky while you watch him with a cheeky smile. 

“Just checking,” you shrug. “You’re kinda hot when you’re jealous,” you mimic his earlier words, feeling superior for a total of three seconds before you’re pressed against the counter.

“And I think you’re very hot in your wrinkled, worn-out pajamas. What are we gonna do about that?” He’s testing you, his gaze slowly shifting from your eyes to your lips.

You can clearly feel his breath on your lips as he patiently waits for you to do the next step, which is a definite indicator that he’s too close. So you let your hands rest on his chest for a second, feeling his heartbeat steadily pound against it as he comes even closer. And then you lightly push him off and bring some much-needed space between you, leaving him confused and taken aback for a moment.

“You can take a shower if you want. I’m heading to bed soon, I’m tired,” you say, walking off without giving him as much as another look. 

But before you leave the room entirely, you halt and turn back around to see him standing there, still in the same position, looking rather confused. “Jimin?” You call his name to get his attention. 

When his eyes find yours just a beat later, you continue. “What happened between us a couple days ago,” you start. “It was a one-time thing. And it won’t happen again,” you clarify. 

Jimin’s expression is somewhat dumbfounded at first but he quickly covers it up with his typical smirk and a leisurely nod. “I know. Relax.” 

Then you turn away, leaving him to take a shower while you are left with your thoughts.

It seems that spending nights with Jimin has slowly become a regular occurrence, and it's surprising how little this seems to bother you. Sharing a bed with him has never felt strange, and you can’t quite explain why.

Normally it should be strange, right?

But he's lying here, next to you in your bed in nothing but his briefs. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating towards you, you can smell his freshly showered body, and you can hear him breathe. And it's pleasant. It's nice. 

“He has a crush on you.“ Jimin’s voice silently rings through the dark room, keeping you from your thoughts.

You lift yourself up on one arm and glance over your shoulder. You can’t see him clearly, but he appears to be lying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head. He turns his head to look at you as well.

“Your neighbor,“ he clarifies, taking your silence as a clue that you don’t know who he is talking about.

You laugh humored, shaking your head. “A crush. Are we twelve?“ 

“He's interested in you. Clearly.“ 

You roll your eyes and then fall back onto your back, rolling over. He hasn't even met him—only caught a glimpse for a total of ten seconds without exchanging a word—and yet he is already making assumptions?

“Don’t be ridiculous. He was asking for eggs,“ you explain. “And I'm not his type.“ 

“What is that supposed to mean?“ he mocks, acting as if he couldn’t imagine why you wouldn’t be his type.

“You know what that’s supposed to mean,“ you say tiredly. 

“That you aren’t ready to trade chili cheese nuggets with unseasoned chicken breast?“ He asks, making you internally laugh for knowing he'd make fun of Luca for being a gym rat.

“Exactly.“ 

He hums, seemingly agreeing with you. 

You're on the brink of sleep, when he talks again. “But would you let him hit?“ 

“Jimin!“ You gasp, suddenly wide awake again at his bold question.

“What? It’s a fair question. You don’t have to date someone to sleep with them.“ 

“That is none of your business and I’m not answering that. Good night.“ 

He doesn’t say more for a while and you think you made it when suddenly, “He probably doesn’t even know where the clit is.“ 

You groan, getting up without further ado, making him sit up in a matter of seconds as well. 

“Where are you going?“ he asks, almost panicky.

“Away from you. I'll sleep on the couch.“ 

You don’t get very far before a hand gently wraps around your wrist, pulling you into his body. His arms then encircle your waist, and he playfully lifts you up, only to throw—yes, literally throw—you back onto your warm bed, causing you to shriek out a laugh.

“Don’t even think about it, babygirl. You‘re stuck with me tonight.“ 

You‘re still laughing when his fingers softly brush against the skin of your stomach as he clings himself to you and cuddles you right into his chest, literally spooning you and holding you too tightly for you to try and make another escape.

“You're not thinking about sleeping like this are you?“ 

“Just for tonight,“ he murmurs into your ear, his breath tickling the skin on your neck and making goosebumps appear all over your body once again. You pray he doesn’t notice but he at least doesn't comment on it.

“I'm badly injured,“ he reasons.

“Badly injured him?“ You snicker.

Jimin hums softly again, appearing noticeably sleepier than he did just a couple of minutes ago.

“I warn you, Park, if I wake up with your boner poking my ass, I‘ll never talk to you again,“ you warn him. There's no answer anymore so you adjust yourself and make yourself comfortable to finally get some sleep.

The next morning, you wake up alone in your bed, confused by the cold air and the noises coming from somewhere in your apartment. Since you live alone, you wonder why you’re hearing these sounds while you’re still in bed. Then, you remember last night and realize that you fell asleep with Jimin but woke up without him. You assume the noises are coming from him, which is why you’re not worried about the possibility of an intruder for now.

With a groan that resembles the sound of someone emerging from a coffin, you slowly turn over and glance at your phone, only to realize that you’ve overslept. 

Not that you had any plans for your day off, but it’s surprising nonetheless. You feel as if you’ve slept through an entire month. Completely disoriented, you stagger to the bathroom to take a shower and freshen up. When you come out, you finally feel like a functioning member of society again.

In the kitchen, Jimin is already making pancakes for you. Or at least that's what it looks like.

“Good morning,“ you greet him, wrapping your still-wet hair in a bun to prevent it from wetting the floor and the back of your shirt. “You’re making breakfast?“ The astonishment in your voice comes mainly from the fact that Jimin never cooks. He often orders, but cooking? Never. You always thought he was just as untalented as you in this department, or at least just as lazy.

“You don’t have shit in your kitchen,“ he murmurs with a tone that reeks of judgment. “Do you only ever eat when I take care of it?“ 

“Well, I had eggs,“ you try to defend yourself. “But yea, pretty much.“

Jimin's look reminds you a little too much of your mother. You try to soothe him with your best, most innocent smile, which earns you a smile back, coupled with a slight shake of his head.

“Some pancake mixture and half a liter of orange juice. How are you even able to survive?“

You grab one of the already-baked pancakes and start biting into it. Not caring about it still being a little hot.

“I just haven't managed to go grocery shopping yet. I’ll do it later, don’t worry.“

“I sure hope so.“

You grin, happily nibbling on your pancake and taking another one in your hand as you sit down at the kitchen table. “How did you sleep?“ 

“Like a baby. But I suppose not as good as you. I put a mirror under your nose half an hour ago to see if you're still alive.“

You laugh at that. That really must have been one long, deep sleep you had.

“Thank you again for last night. I wouldn’t have known where to go without you.” He looks over at you a little bashfully for a moment.

You dismiss it with a wave, as it's really no big deal to you. He hasn't been a stranger for a long time and you don’t feel uncomfortable with him around. “It goes without saying.“

He gives you a warm smile as he sits across from you, enjoying his own pancake. “When I finally gather the courage to go home and get my money, I’ll return the favor with a meal that’s a bit more... nutritious.”

You watch him closely. Even though it was meant as a joke, the situation with his family clearly weighs heavily on his mind.

“Don't worry too much about it. Your sister will get over it soon,“ you try and reassure him. “And your parents too. I may have exaggerated a bit last night. The guy is too cowardly to do anything about it, I'm sure.“

Jimin smiles at that and nods, appreciating you trying to make him feel better.

"That doesn't mean I approve of what you did. In my eyes, you're still foolish for it," you say, wiping the smile off his lips and replacing it with a slight pout that makes you smirk. "How is your hand?"

He lifts it up and wiggles his fingers a few times, which seems to work without much pain. It's still a bit swollen and red at the knuckles but looks much better than it did last night.

“It’s better. However, I didn't expect anything less given the kind care and attention I received from you.” Jimin grins, looking just as happy with it as you are.

You snort, accepting the compliment with a sense of pride, even though you know you didn't do much to deserve it.

You both finish your makeshift breakfast and clean up what needs to be done. Afterward, Jimin tells you that he is slowly getting ready to go home and collect his belongings. He hopes that no one will be there at this time and that they might have gone on their vacation without him, but he knows that’s just wishful thinking. His parents might be upset, but they are the type of parents who prefer to talk about their problems and work through them instead of avoiding topics and staying angry forever. 

In your eyes, that sounds like a healthy relationship, and you wish it had always been like that in your own home. Although he complains a lot, you know he genuinely appreciates his parents and their approach. It's the confrontation he dreads. You can't blame him for that.

Jimin has just stepped into the bathroom when another knock sounds at your door. This time, it isn't a surprise to see your neighbor standing there with a carton of what you assume are freshly bought eggs.

With a radiant, handsome smile that looks straight out of a magazine, he stands before you. “Good morning! I went for a run and picked up some groceries on the way.”

“Oh, come on, you didn’t have to do that. Let’s just say the eggs were a welcome gift,” you grin, taking the carton from his hands and thanking him.

Before he can respond, Jimin suddenly appears behind you, catching him off guard. “You’re a little late. Would have been nice for breakfast,” he mocks, eyeing the small carton in your hands.

Luca halts, his blue eyes wandering confusedly between you and Jimin. It's almost funny how you can literally see little gears turning in his head as he makes the connection. “Uh, sorry.“

“No, don’t worry about it. And don’t mind him, please.“ you apologize, sending Jimin a warning look that goes unnoticed by him. “He’s not a morning person.“

Ignoring your comment, Jimin steps closer to you at the door. “Okay, I'm off now. Wish me luck.” Before you have a chance to respond, he turns your head toward him and kisses you. It's intentionally provocative, especially with your neighbor watching.

The whole situation naturally creates an awkward atmosphere between the two of you after Jimin has left, so you smile at him, silently hoping he will leave as well. 

Fortunately, he excuses himself almost immediately, saying that he has more errands to run, which you find very relieving. 

You reflect once again on what Jimin told you last night—he thinks your neighbor has a crush on you. While you can't say you share his opinion and you definitely don't have the same interest in him, the thought still makes you feel a bit giddy. 

A/N: Penny for your thoughts pretty please?

tagged: @ggukkieland | @ttaeby | @rkvi | @cuteipat | @pjiminslove | @mawwnsterr | @aamalaaa | @spideyxxboi | @lil-sracha | @katsbqbe | @bex-92br | @natalie-rdr | @canarystwin | @wespers-jaan | @bangtanxcoffee | @bri-mal | @so-kou | @lonleycoffee | @rjsmochii | @kiwiaroha | @chimchimmarie | @scoupshawt | @xmochiloverx | @kristinkristinuk | @thejiminshieffect | @yes-fangirl-things | @cuteinjapanese | @leticiaesteveslp | @jkkkkkay | @miss-rainy-days | @bangtan4everr | @i-never-post-but-i-am-here | @dumdaradumdaradum | @thesmeraldogirl | @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin | @ownthesunshine

[axigailxo]

Pretty Like You | PJM (2)

part two: parties and pilates

series summary. where jimin is jealous of the beauty that is you, writes about it, and falls apart when you accidentally read it.

pairing. feminine!jimin x reader

rating. M | 18+ |

genre. enemies to lovers, feminine!jimin, self hatred au, slight identity crisis, self love journey, smut, sub! jimin, angst, fluff, heartfelt

w.c. 4.8k

warnings. heavy descriptions of self hate and self abuse later into the story, please be advised. mention of “unaliving” in this chapter.

ch summary. where oc convinces jimin to go to a frat party in an attempt to break him out of his shell

**this is part 2 of my series pretty like you, not a stand-alone

series masterlist | <-previous | next ->

“And then despite it all, she asked if I wanted to talk, can you believe it?”

It’s been a couple of days since the incident at the art room, and Jimin can’t stop ranting about it like it’s new news. He still hasn’t texted you, and it’s not like he could since he doesn’t even have your number. He could get it from you in class, but thats a little hard when he’s on a streak of skipping.

After you suggested to help him embark on a self love journey, Jimin has been so damn confused. He doesn’t know whether to jump at the opportunity, rot away in embarrassment that you read his journal, or be slightly offended that you’d suggest help when he thinks he’s just fine. Kind of.

All options are tempting, nonetheless.

Daisy, Jimin’s cat that is currently victim to listening about what happened for the hundredth time, lifts up off her soft body and saunters out of his room. What? She’s fed up.

Jimin, who is suffering from her rude and sudden exit, huffs as he debates whether he should follow up about that whole thing with you. Because despite all his options, he’s leaning more towards just avoiding you at all costs and pretending that situation never even happened.

Except he’ll remember. It’ll haunt him and his thoughts every night until he finally just addresses it.

And so that’s why he should go to class today. Maybe. Jimin squints his eyes as he contemplates and considers, ultimately deciding that coffee is the first step that should be taken. Especially since it’s way too early to have a crisis, that can wait for later. Per usual.

Making his way to his Keurig, he pops a peppermint mocha flavored pod into the top compartment followed by a little water in another compartment until he’s clicking a button to brew it.

“So now you like me,” Jimin scoffs as Daisy rubs against his ankle, excited for Jimin to give her breakfast.

Commanding to the manipulation of the feline, Jimin grabs a can of cat food out of a cupboard, internally scolding himself for being nice and buying her the expensive kind again.

Although, Jimin can’t blame Daisy for being fed up with all his predicaments. He would be too. However spilling to Daisy is much more acceptable than telling it all to his human best friend, Taehyung.

Jimin has already thought about the fact that if he spends time with you, whether it be for a self love journey or not, that’d be breaking some sort of bro code with Tae.

You’re Taehyung’s crush, and Jimin respects that. Plus it’s not like Taehyung has to worry, you’re out of Jimin’s league anyway.

However that hard on be got the other night still baffles him. He’s narrowed it down to being that you’re just attractive and he’s just a gross horny man. But not even that sounds right.

Jimin has thought about inviting Taehyung to every outing you may have together, but he can’t. How in hell would he explain to his best friend that the whole reason he’s seeing you is so that he can learn to accept himself and flaunt that feminine side of him? Let alone explain to him that you read his journal full of how much he envies and adores you at the same time. He can’t. More specifically, he won’t. Taehyung doesn’t need to meet that side of him, Jimin thinks. It’s for the better.

Jimin ponders for a second, and he hates himself for pouring his coffee into a travel cup and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He figures since he’s already keeping a secret from Tae, one more shouldn’t hurt. Plus he can’t avoid you forever. There’s really only one thing to do now.

“Eat up Daisy, I’ll be back after class.”

“Jimin? Hey!”

Standing in line at the campus’s cafe, Jimin washes over in a cold sweat as the loud call of his name attracts the attention of almost everyone near. He came here to get an additional caffeine boost before class and more importantly stall from talking to you, but it’s just his luck that you’d be here too.

“Hi,” he mutters awkwardly, eyes on the ground the second you get closer.

He’s never seen you so up-close before. He wonders if your skin has always looked so smooth.

He wishes his skin were as smooth.

“I was gonna call to ask about your no shows in class but I completely forgot to give you my number the last time we talked.”

Jimin finds this incredibly new and odd. Just a few days ago he hated you without knowing you and now you’re talking to him like a friend. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to.

“Here,” you say as you hand him your phone, a new contact page open and ready for him to fill out. “That way we can talk out of school, plus I found multiple super-helpful self esteem websites that you might li—“

“Y/N,” Jimin halts your enthusiasm. Again, way too early in the morning for this. “Can we not talk about it in such a public place?”

His tone is hushed and embarrassed, trying not to let the several eyes on them to hear that he’s struggling with self esteem. God this is so much more depressing than Jimin initially thought it’d be.

“Of course, yeah no my bad.” You rush your words, retracting your hand down before Jimin grabs the phone from you, typing his number.

“I dont expect you to waste time on me. Just text when you have absolutely nothing else to do. This isn’t important enough to occupy your schedule.”

Immediately, you frown at his words. Sure this is important. And contrary to his request, you already cleared something off of your schedule for him.

“First off, this is important. I won’t have you taking down on yourself anymore.”

Jimin so badly wants to ask why, but he won’t because that’s rude and you don’t deserve anymore rudeness from him. Not after what you read in the art room.

“Secondly, I already cancelled pilates for you. I have something else fun planned for us.”

Jimin can’t help his sudden snicker.

“What?” You ask, slightly offended.

“Nothing, it’s just funny you take pilates. Of course you do.”

You wanted to carry on with being offended, but you felt a pang of accomplishment upon getting him to laugh. Progress, you think.

“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, trailing back out of the cafe. “Laugh all you want but just know that this ass didn’t grow itself!”

You: u, me, frat party tonight at 9.

Sat on the hard seats of the lecture hall, Jimin’s eyes go wide as he reads your reply to his text.

The second you sauntered out of the cafe, you were quick to text Jimin in hopes to break the tension between you two— which technically isn’t tension at all given Jimin is the only one who finds your new friendship odd. Well him and the rest of the students who saw you two talking together.

Jimin had asked what you had planned, and when you replied with frat party, he felt physically ill.

Jimin: absolutely not. sorry.

You: hear me out, it’s not even a big party

You: it’s very discreet and there’s only gonna be a couple people

Jimin locks eyes with you from across the room and mouths “no” with an adamant shake of his head. You roll your eyes before your thumbs get back to texting him.

You: we can pregame before we go so u can loosen up

You: if you’re with me, there’s nothing to worry about

Jimin wants to be offended. He most definitely does not need you at his rescue. The intent however was a little sweet. God Jimin is reminded exactly why he despised you— you’re perfect.

Jimin: i’ll think about it. that’s not a yes.

He pretends he doesn’t notice the little happy dance you do in your seat, nor the squeal of excitement you let out even though he didn’t give a definite answer.

Jimin starts to smile, but when he looks to his left he sees someone else who’s smiling at you and it vanishes. Taehyung. Completely gawking at you, Jimin fights that weird feeling that suddenly engulfs him. Maybe it’s the fact he’s hiding his new friendship with you from Tae.

Either that or somewhere in his subconscious, he doesn’t like how Tae is smiling at you.

“God dude, isn’t she so cute.” Tae whispers, completely oblivious to why you’re dancing in you’re seat.

Jimin trails his gaze to his lap as a bitter mood takes hold of him.

“Yeah… definitely.”

Jimin is in a rut.

Even though he’s still not certain about going to that party, finding a potential outfit never hurt anyone. Moments after he got home he was already sucked into his closet by the magnetic pull of all the great clothes he has— even though he knows himself well enough to understand he will end up changing into his “boy clothes” no matter what he ends up choosing.

He slips on a black, oversized distressed sweater. The seams are ripped in just the right places, leaving a fraction of his chest, his belly, and a dash of his waist to be visible beneath the shredded fabric. The back showcases a fair amount of skin as well.

This one, Jimin thinks to himself, isn’t so feminine. It’s doable. Maybe.

He wants to pair it with a skirt but that would only be a waste of time because if he can’t even leave his apartment in a skirt to check the mailbox, he sure as hell will not be wearing it to a frat party of all places.

He grabs a pair of black chinos that he thrifted not so long ago, letting it rest low on his waist. He pulls the look together with black combat boots and a dainty necklace that he tucks beneath the sweater. It makes him feel pretty despite the fact he’s the only one aware it’s on him.

He steps back to absorb the outfit in the mirror, and he feels good. It’s a combination of both masculine and feminine and it’s definitely testing the waters but Jimin knows his night won’t be enjoyable in the least if he wears a baggy hoodie or tee. He likes what he has on, even if the frat boys will give him shit for it. Which they definitely will.

He hears Daisy meow across the room, and upon directed his gaze to her his eyes settle on the makeup bag tucked into the far back corner of his desk.

He’s tempted, he is. But he can’t. He’s not ready yet.

Just as he begins to walk towards his desk, only enticing himself further, a knock on his door is heard and he takes that as a sign from god herself that he should skip the makeup.

With a sigh, he heads to the door.

“Knock… Knock… Knock!”

“Just a minute! For fuck’s sake.”

Irritated at the swat team-like announcement, Jimin swings the door open to reveal none other than Jessica Rabbit?

“You didn’t tell me it was a costume party!” Jimin complains as he steps aside, gesturing you to come in.

Both hands holding a bottle of E&J, you let yourself in and place the bottle on his countertop.

“Oh yeah, it’s a costume party.”

“It’s not even halloween,” Jimin states the obvious as he instinctively heads for two glasses out of his cupboard.

“It’s to make up for last year. There was a big game the day of halloween so none of the guys were in a party mentality.”

Party Mentality?

Jimin can’t believe he’s hearing about frat news from you, who is in his apartment dressed like Jessica Rabbit and is downing a shot straight from the bottle. What has his life come to.

You notice him staring so you apologize as you offer him the bottle to pour.

“Figured we’d pregame like I said. Also we gotta figure out a costume for you. Ooh what about a slutty artist or something.”

Jimin swears you make him lose brain cells. Sliding a now-filled glass toward you, he takes a large gulp of his own.

“Slutty artist?” He thinks out loud. “I’m fine with what I have on.”

Jimin counts down the seconds until you praise his bold sweater choice, but he can feel the alcohol rise back up when you say the opposite.

“In all honestly I thought that was a sleep shirt. We’re putting you in something else.”

You navigate yourself straight to what you assume is him bedroom, and Jimin nearly falls flat on his face chasing after you.

This may be a bit embarrassing for Jimin to admit to himself, but he’s never had a girl in his room before. It’s intimate, he thinks. Having someone inside a room that has witnessed every one of his breakdowns, outfit changes, alone time moments, etcetera. Jimin cringes as memories from the other night come back to him.

“Cute room,” you tell him as you look around, admiring the fairy lights and album covers displayed. Jimin was always big on music. Maybe posters were too far given his age, but he didn’t care. He never thought someone else would ever see them.

Although, Tae has been to Jimin’s place before. He knows about the posters and fairy lights. Though he never once questioned it or even talked about it. Only when he called that one poster of Ariana Grande hot. That’s what Jimin likes about Tae, he never questions him. But it’s not like Jimin gives him much to wonder about. He’s completely masked to the eyes of his best friend.

“This,” you start, dramatic tone and all, “this is gorg.” You hold out his favorite black skirt, and it’s lightening quick how fast he snatches it from you.

“No.” He tells you, cheeks getting hot. He’s embarrassed to say the least. He knows you know about his self esteem issues, but you have yet to discover his fondness for feminine clothing. But you have now.

“What? You’re embarrassed I found a skirt? If it’s socially acceptable for women to wear sweats, then it should be acceptable for men to wear skirts.”

Someone who gets it, Jimin thinks. This is the first time he’s ever felt understood when it comes to this, and he doesn’t quite know what to say.

“But skirt or no skirt, I think it’s important that you feel sexy tonight.”

“And why is that?” Jimin plays along. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed as you continue to look through his wardrobe.

“Because halloween parties exist solely for people to feel sexy all night.”

“It’s not halloween,” Jimin argues again, earning a shirt thrown at his face. Giggling, he holds it out in front of him.

You stand in front of his closet with a look of excitement on your face. His reaction disappoints you, however.

“Y/N, no. I can’t wear this out.”

“Just try it on.”

He knew this was part of your plan to get him to gain a little confidence and even convince him to leave the house in something he feels good in, but Jimin is adamant. He cannot wear this.

It’s a fitted baseball tee, extremely cropped and a shade of pale pink. Jimin cannot leave the house like this, despite how good it makes him feel deep down.

Reluctant and a tad shy, Jimin removes his sweatshirt from his body as he replaces it with what you threw at him. In the short moment he was bare, you might’ve stole a glance at his figure. His body is perfect, you think. Slim waist with faint yet toned abs and a noticeable amount of muscle on his arms. You take another sip of the drink that has yet to leave your hand.

“I look stupid.”

“You look sexy.”

The compliment was unexpected and was more than enough to have Jimin’s eyes widen. He breaks eye contact because how could he not, and he self consciously wraps an arm around his stomach.

More so his lap.

“I don’t know,” he says faintly, mumbling over his speech. “I think it’s a bit much.”

“Change to grey sweats. You can tell people you’re a 60’s athlete, they dressed like this back in the day you know.”

Yeah right, tell a bunch of actual scary frat boy athletes that’s he’s mocking their style from the 60’s.

His brows furrow when you step closer to him, reclining down and reaching for the skirt he had snatched from you. You grab one of his wrists, placing the bunched up material into his hand. His cheeks are on fire, his heartbeat picking up.

“Try it on,” you whisper. “For me.”

And fuck. Jimin is fully erect. He physically cannot bring himself to stand let alone change in front of you. He pushes your hand away, never wanting to disappear so badly.

“Another time. You already got me to wear this tee, baby steps.”

Disappointed, you think he’s right. You can’t beg him to gain confidence to wear an entire outfit like this on the first day of his journey. It takes time, and luck for Jimin you’re very patient.

“Another time,” you repeat softly.

Jimin has been to a function with very little people before. He knows what a small little get together looks like. This party— it isn’t that.

“You said a couple people!” He shouts over the blairing music as you pull him through the front hall and to the packed kitchen.

He has no clue who’s house this is and he hasn’t seen a single normal person. Everyone is either drunk, high, or the worst: a frat. He shivers in discomfort before you bring a shot glass to his lips.

“Guess word spread and more people came, no biggie.”

He downs the shot of what turns out to be tequila, wincing as he coughs out a reply.

“Huge biggie.” He looks around the crowded house after a bystander drunkenly bumps into him and slurs an incoherent apology.

This was a mistake.

“Y/N, what is the point of me being here? This isn’t making me feel good about myself in the least, this isn’t my environment.”

You take another shot before quickly grabbing a lime and placing it between Jimin’s plump lips, and before he can register what you’re doing, your lips are already on his as you suck from the lime. Nipping the fruit with your teeth you pull it out and drop it into the sink, grin wide as Jimin turns fire hydrant red.

That shouldn’t count as a kiss, but you just sort-of-kissed Jimin. His mouth is dry, heartbeat in his stomach, and he is hyper alert on the way his knees are subtly shaking.

“Ease up Jimin, it’s gonna be a long night.”

He didn’t know it then but that’s the last time he’d be seeing you until the end of the party. He sauntered off to a random couch that was unoccupied for the most part, only some random (and gross) couple having a full blown make out session on the opposite side.

He made sure to keep his cup filled the whole night as that’s the only thing keeping him from walking straight out the door and back into the comfort of anything that’s not this party.

He’s spotted Tae a few times, who is dressed as Jack from the titanic, but Tae hasn’t noticed him yet which is probably because his rather different fashion approach and the fact he’s at a frat party. If anything that should be a reason Tae spots him since he’s the odd one out, Jimin thinks. Then again it is a costume party and no one look normal per-say. Nor is Tae the sharpest tool in the shed.

He also thanks the universe for not letting Tae notice you and Jimin arrive together.

He’s been glancing at you for a while now, the way you sway your hips to the rap song playing on the surround sound speakers. The way your skin is glowing even under the dim, groggy lights of the house. He watches the way smoke exits your mouth as Tae places a blunt between your perfect lips. He looks away when Tae also places a hand on your waist, dancing with you so intimately that it pains Jimin to see.

He knows he’ll be hearing all about this from Tae. You’re his favorite person, he’s probably over the moon about dancing with you right now.

“Jimin?” Speaking of the devil.

Jimin waves awkwardly as Tae whispers something to you and proceeds to walk towards his direction. You go off to dance with a frat guy who’s been waiting all night to have your attention. Jimin finds him pathetic.

“What are you doing here? You never come to these kinds of things.”

The music is loud but that’s nothing compared to how deep and confident Tae’s voice is. Despite Jimin’s desire to be more feminine, there are some masculine traits he wishes to have. A deeper voice is one of them. Not Tae’s level of deep, but deeper than what his currently is.

“A friend forced me to,” he admits, not naming names because how could he.

“Oh you have friends?” The younger man teases, earning a grumpy eye roll from Jimin. He takes another swig out of his cup.

Jimin remembers what he’s wearing and wonders why his best friend hasn’t said anything about it yet. He almost wants to point it out so it doesn’t awkwardly go unsaid and leaves Tae to catch on to his secret need for femininity.

“Like my costume?” Jimin asks, masking the fact that this is actually just a random shirt he’s had in his wardrobe and not a costume.

Tae gives him a quick once over, not lingering his eyes on the top for long.

“Oh what are you supposed to be?”

He definitely thought that wasn’t a costume and instead a normal outfit. Jimin cringes, hating you right now more than ever for making him show up in this. But he also loves you for providing him with the save he’s about to use on Tae.

“I’m a 60’s athlete. They used to dress like this you know.”

Taehyung hums, genuinely convinced.

“Wah that’s clever. I thought that was yours for a sec.”

Jimin hates himself for what he’s about to say.

“Why on earth would I own a pink crop top, that’s ridiculous.”

They laugh it off, and Jimin feels a gut wrenching pang in his stomach. That sentence wasn’t made for him, and it made him a liar and a hypocrite to his own desire.

He needs to go now before he says even more self damaging nonsense.

“Hey Tae, do you think you can get me a blunt?” Jimin asks in hopes to excuse his friend and, well, get high.

“Is this coming from the same person that said smoking isn’t good for you?”

Jimin remembers when he said that but he’s far too drained to be defensive or right. He shrugs as he admits to his hypocrisy.

“Yeah well so are frat parties but here I am. Cough one up, I know you have some.”

Tae stands up to reach in his front pocket, pulling out a steep tin that reveals 3 joints. He hands one to Jimin, telling him a brief “I’ll be back” before vanishing to find you again.

Something told Jimin to stay at the party despite how badly he wanted to go. He thought about how it may make you sad if he were to just leave, then he ridded that idea because why on earth would that make you sad. Nevertheless, he glanced outside to see if the crowd was acceptable to join. It wasn’t.

Deciding to not smoke with a bunch of frat guys, he goes the alternative route and heads for the hallway to secure an empty room. When he succeeds, he closes the door behind him and props the window open as he lights the tip of his joint.

He doesn’t smoke often, barely at all, but he needed this. As the smoke entered into his mouth he inhaled it eagerly, head rolling back as he slowly blows it all back out. This feels good, he thinks. The atmosphere on the other hand still could be better.

Jimin laughs to himself. Smoking weed at a frat party you invited him to. The world is funny that way, he nods to himself. Almost as funny as how you’re all he can think about right now.

He doesn’t know what it is. It’s not hate. For sure not love. He’s just thinking about you. Perhaps he misses your company? Or the way your skirts never reveal too much but just enough to drive him crazy.

The way your pouty lips move when you talk.

Your soft skin.

Your silky voice.

The way you look in that Jessica Rabbit costume you wore tonight.

Jimin is painfully erect, and without even noticing his hand has been palming himself desperately this entire time, blunt being delicately held in the other hand, occasionally being brought up for more puffs to fuel what he’s doing right now.

“Fuck Y/N, yes.”

He unties his sweats. One more rough drag and he kills the blunt on the rim of the windowsill, both hands focusing on himself now. One hand tugging his waistband down, the other guiding himself out. And all he can think about is how sexy you are.

He gets carried away, going so fast on himself that he doesn’t hear or see the door open. He’s high beyond belief, god only knows what Taehyung had laced in that blunt, and so when he sees you he swears his imagination is just very vivid.

Until his conscience registers and he almost squeals as he lunges back in shock of the situation.

Quickly you run up to him just in time to pull his entire body back and preventing him from falling out the window. You’re breathing heavy, half because of what you saw moments before and partially because you just saved his life.

“Fuck Jimin, be careful.”

And how fucking peculiar it is that you’re not addressing his cock that is out in the open between the two of you.

Jimin can’t speak. He almost literally died from being caught jerking himself to you while being high out his mind.

What a fucking legacy he’d have left.

After catching his breath he frantically goes to put himself away but his hand is stopped by yours.

“You know people sneak into rooms at parties to have sex with each other, not to do themselves.”

His cheeks flush red.

“Only freaks do that.”

Jimin has wanted to before, but he officially wants to unalive himself. How pathetic he is, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, I… I’m really high right now and I thought I locked the—“

He cuts himself off when you guide his hand back onto himself.

“You’re not gonna ask me why I came in here?”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“Why?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, very slowly putting his own hand into motion against himself.

“Because I’m a freak too.”

Your words came out in a faint whisper but Jimin’s senses are heightened and he hears it like a megaphone in his ears. Your tits are practically spilling out your tiny red tube dress as you lean to help him stroke himself. A shiver cascades down his whole body, an unintentional yet hesitant whimper rumbling off his throat.

You giggle, then abruptly you stand. You lean down and peck him on his frozen, plump lips.

“Have a good night Jimin, I’ll be in contact for our next power move.” You walk towards the door. “Masturbating is a good way to show yourself love, kudos to you kid.”

Jimin’s hand is glued to his stiff cock, frozenly just keeping it there as he stares at you with his mouth agape.

“I’ll lock this on my way out, by all means finish and do not fall out any windows.”

And just like that you open the door only a couple inches and squeeze out to give him privacy. He’s left in the same spot, still in absolute shock.

You’re perfect.

You’re beautiful, and apparently so fucking sexy in sexual situations. It takes only one more stroke and one more thought of you for Jimin to reach the finish line, cum dropping down his hand and shaft as he fucks into his fist.

He breathes jaggedly until he’s drained of all energy and collapses on the bed.

To his shock, he’s not freaking out. He’s actually smiling. Then again that could easily be the weed talking. What did taehyung put in that anyway?

Jimin’s smile dissipates as an ugly thought sends a cold chill throughout him.

You’re his best friend’s crush. You’re Taehyung's. And he just betrayed him. Jimin hates how the universe works sometimes. When one thing goes well, the whole world goes to shit.

The world is funny that way.

ply pt 2???? im sorry for how long it took luvies, last year was so intense. i hope you all are still here to read😿 run this uppppp cuties!! til next time luvs🤭❤️

🏷️: @exactlygreatcoffee @sweetieguk @ctrlsht @blessrious @someusername133 @dreamer-pjm @zadkielr @dearsullix @lailaaxd @osakis-gf @jnghs @seltansworld @bxnqtxnie @moon-kid39 @mawwnsterr @zadkielr @iamjimintrash @chansbaybygirl @canarystwin @dearsullix @polyparkj @mannymalfoy @jmincore @kyglover @coralmusicblaze @midnightangel13 @jm-jkfics @lovelyflower02 @xcherrywaltz

soooo many of u guys who asked to be in the taglist changed your usernames so unfortunately i couldn't tag u☹️hopefully this found u!🫶🏻

(for anyone else who'd like to be in the taglist pls reply to this post <3)

[clumsy-jiminie]

ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ | ᴘᴊᴍ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ

❝ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇꜱ ❞

↣ summary :: Kiara Smith had dreamed of true love for as long as she could remember. from being obsessed with the Disney princesses who found affection in the strangest situations to dressing up as a bride from kindergarten to fourth grade. it was the only thing she ever truly desired, so much so that a pleasant smile and kind eyes could have her smitten in seconds. right when she thought she found the one, a chance encounter with Park Jimin—the city’s famously perfect fuck boy with a smile so warm and a heart of ice—has her feeling quite the opposite. he knocks her off her axis and derails her life as she knows it, yet the universe seems to have another plan for the two.

↣ rating :: 18+

↣ genre :: fluff, angst, smut, e2l, slow burn

↣ pairing :: business owner!jimin x fem!artist!oc ft. taehyung

↣ word count :: 4.7k

↣ chapter warnings :: mature language, questionable yoga poses, sexual fantasying, intimacy

↣ notes :: :) surprise :) the amount of sexual tension in this chapter makes me wanna smush their faces together and yell KISS ALREADY also JIN IS BACK JIN IS HOME WORLD WIDE HANDSOME HAS RETURNED 🥳 I was so happy to see our king of chaos return and spend some time with the rest of the boys!

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

if you have any questions, comments, or concerns PLEASE don't hesitate to message me or send me an ask! my inbox is always open. 💖

"you're watching, I feel it. I know I shouldn't stare. I picture your hands on me. I think I wanna let it happen."

-liar, camilla cabello-

Amber eyes met with chocolate irises. After staring at each other with a widened gaze of disbelief, both pairs respectfully narrowed at each other.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

Kiara dropped whatever stretch she was about to do, turning to face the blonde man who seemed equally, if not more, annoyed than the girl.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" She whispered harshly so she wouldn't cause a scene.

Jimin couldn't help but tilt his head to the side curiously, switching arms to stretch the other one out. "I thought it was pretty obvious."

Her eyes burned a hole into him. "No shit! I meant here, at this studio, when there are hundreds, if not thousands, of other ones!"

The man shrugged, "This one was in the area. Technically, I should be asking you what you're doing here. Aren't you supposed to be in Long Island?"

Kiara opened her mouth and prepared for a slick response, but the words died on her tongue. He had a point, but she wouldn't let him know. All she wanted was to relax; with everything else going on in her life, this was the one place guaranteed to provide some tranquillity. But now that was tainted by the blonde's mere existence.

It was like the universe was playing some sick joke on the woman, interweaving her life with someone as insufferable as him. Her existence became a reality TV show for the gods above and below, making Kiara and Jimin the main characters. 

"What happened to your hair?" Jimin asked suddenly, filling the air of silence that grew between them. He had only checked out the woman because her hair caught his attention. So curly, wild, and free—he liked it, but it was Kiara's, so he couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to pull on her curls strand by strand to watch them recoil back to the loose spring. Plus, Kiara had straight hair—she always had straight hair—she couldn't just suddenly change it on him.

"Fuck off," she quipped while she placed her hands on her hips for a moment. Kiara didn't wear her hair curly for this exact reason; someone always had something to say about it. Whether it was white women and children reaching out to touch it without her permission, black men insisting she was anything other than black when trying to talk to her, and random Hispanic people speaking straight Spanish to her as if she understood. Kiara didn't like the attention it brought her. That's why she kept it straight. The only thing people would do was compliment her hair. The less attention, the better.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, trying to find the calmness she once had before Park Jimin had entered. If she couldn't, she would hightail it out of here and back to Little Latte to give Jeongguk an earful. She knew she should've stayed at his place and made his bed into a lovely, comfy depression nest. An overwhelming feeling sat in her gut as soon as Jeongguk mentioned the outside world. 

"Was it on purpose? Like you meant to walk outside like that?" Jimin started to lean side to side casually, hiding the smirk that desperately wanted to form on his lips. 

Kiara glared at the blonde, her fiery gaze meeting his playful one. So he thinks this is a joke? "Fuck you and ya motha."

"Oooh," Jimin chuckled, hiding his attraction to her accent. It was the first time he heard it so prominently. Did she know she had a voice that deserved to be in porn? He could listen to just her speaking with no direction at all and get off. "Insulting people's mother's now? Someone's a little feisty."

"You're right," she stepped off her mat and bent over, beginning to roll it up. Jimin's eyes lingered over the woman for more than what was appropriate. "Your mother is probably a wonderful lady. I bet she tried everything for you not to grow up a pretentious asshole, but unfortunately," she grabbed her mat and water bottle, "some thing's can't be helped."

Jimin's upper lip twitched, threatening to curl from the bold assumption that his mother was anything excellent. He should’ve told her off—let her know just how painfully wrong she was—but that little smirk playing on her lips stole the words from his tongue. All he could do was sigh deeply, exhaling all the words he wanted to say as he stared into those eyes of gold that threatened him as much as his own. Just as she stepped away from him, assuming the woman was going to leave so they both could have peace, a door opened. The duo turned their head towards the noise that interrupted their tension.

"Good morning, my blessed rays of sunshine and daring rainbows!" A short girl with wavy dark brown hair walked in, followed by a tall man with deep skin. With the amount of pep in her step, one would think she was skipping. She made her way to the front of the room, standing before the mirror on top of a mat. The woman was very petite, standing at 4'10 at most. In contrast, the man beside her had to be at least 6 feet tall. It was an odd couple, but Kiara didn't care as much as she wondered why there were two instructors instead of one.

The woman smiled brightly at the room as the chatting people from earlier slowly started to join the center. "It's an honor to have you join us for this couples class."

The duo's eyes widened with disbelief before releasing an aspirated sigh. "Ah, shit," they mumbled as they looked around the room. Everyone had a partner beside them, leaving them as the only pair. 

"Today's class is designed for you and your partner to sync until you are one."

Kiara quickly raised her hand, promptly grabbing the instructors' attention. They nodded towards her, prompting her to speak. "What if you don't have a partner?"

The room erupted in tiny giggles like she said a joke, but Kiara's face remained unchanged. She stared at the two instructors, jaw clenched with an unamused expression spread amongst her features. She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for whatever response the two would conjure up.

"Oh, you were serious?" The man asked before Kiara nodded. He pursed his lips briefly before his eyes landed on the man beside her. Jimin looked at Kiara, wondering where she expected this route to lead her. It was only until the overwhelming feeling of someone staring at you that he pulled his gaze away from the girl and looked at the male instructor. "Do you have a partner?"

The blonde's eyes went wide before he cleared his throat. "Well, no, but—"

"Ah! So problem solved!" The male grinned before looking off at the rest of the class.

"No!" Kiara's voice pipped up before the female instructor could speak. "Problem not solved! Problem far from solved!"

"You're welcome to walk out," the short woman stated. She stared at the other woman, her warm blue eyes freezing over suddenly. That didn't stop Kiara from bending over again, preparing to gather her things until the woman's voice cut through the air. "But we don't offer refunds here."

Kiara stopped and froze, debating for a moment before slowly standing up. She had to dip into her savings fund to pay for this class, and she didn't want to waste money she shouldn't have been spending in the first place. Her shoulders dropped in defeat as she realized she was not only going to be stuck in the same room with Park Jimin, sober, for a whole hour, but now she was also to be his partner.

"Problem solved?" The female instructor asked with a tone of impatience lingering behind her words. Kiara nodded silently. The woman's eyes then traveled to Jimin, who met her gaze with a glare. She raised a questioning brow, tempting him to take a chance and try her also. And Jimin would've. He didn't need the money, nor cared so much for the class. He could've left, found another class at a neighboring yoga studio, and pretended he never ran into Ms. Kiara. But that was the issue. All it took was one glance at the woman who seemed to shrink into herself from embarrassment.

Jimin tilted his head back as he shut his eyes, letting out a small sigh of defeat. He placed his hands on his hips, gathering all the positive energy lingering in his system. He looked at the instructor once more, offering her his charming smile. "Problem solved."

The instructors seemed pleased, going on to resume their introduction to the class. Kiara found herself slowly shuffling towards Jimin. She leaned in subtly towards him. "Just so you know," she whispered, "I'm going to hate every second of this."

Jimin stifled back a dry scoff. "Likewise."

After the introduction, the instructors started the class with a simple breathing exercise. They demonstrated the position, causing Kiara's eyes to widen before she glanced at the blonde man beside her, who did not react. Soon, everyone, including Jimin and Kiara, got onto their mats and copied their position.

Kiara stared at Jimin while he avoided her gaze completely before cautiously sliding into his lap. The instructor pulled the shades on the window down, blocking out the natural sunlight before dimming the fluorescent lights. Speakers quietly played calm notes of guitar strings plucking and wind instruments. Despite the elements around them, the duo was anything but relaxed. Kiara tensed at the feeling of Jimin's hands on her back while hers wrapped around his neck loosely. Jimin tried to steady his breathing, praying that she couldn't feel how fast his heart was beating. They don't like each other; they haven't liked each other for months, so why did he need to feel close to her?

Kiara inhaled deeply, letting her eyes shut as her breathing began to sync with Jimin's. It was fast at first and slightly concerning until her fingers absentmindedly found the little hairs on his nape. He seemed to relax at the feeling of her fingertips stroking his hair. For the first time today, Kiara felt some sort of peace.

She wanted to pretend it was Taehyung's arms wrapped around her. She wanted to pretend it was his hands gently rubbing against her cool skin, warming her. She wanted to pretend it was his incredibly addictive scent she was breathing in. The sweet smell of citrus and pineapple colliding with a slight spice of black pepper and juniper berries with a heavy hint of vanilla lingering in the background was comforting. Disrespectfully intoxicating. Soothing. She wanted to pretend, but she couldn't.

All of his qualities were opposite of Jimin's.

Taehyung was naturally rougher and more dominating. Slow moments like this didn't come often, and if they did, it would always end with a hand on her ass or boob, groping her and telling her how horny he is. Sometimes, she just wanted to be held, to feel skin against hers in the most innocent ways. She didn't want her body to only be touched for someone else's pleasure. 

Her boyfriend also smelled like a teenager who put on too much axe body spray. Kiara preferred something sweeter, more inviting, and easier on the nose, while Taehyung wanted people to smell him before he entered the room. His colognes contained more notes of cedar woods, bergamot, and various citruses—powerful and entirely too much for Kiara. Maybe that's why she found herself snuggling closer to Jimin, her nose pressing against the crook of his neck, causing the area to tense from her simple touch.

"Someone's close," Jimin whispered lowly, causing a pleasant chill to run down her spine. She didn't know his voice could get deeper, and it was a dangerous ability for him to have. His silk voice was already soothing on the ears, but this made it far more enjoyable.

"That's the whole point of the exercise," she mumbled, subconsciously pushing her body against his.

Jimin inhaled sharply, her curls tickling the tip of his nose. He couldn't slow his heart. He couldn't stop his mind, not while she was this close to him. All he could think about was how divine she smelled—a delicate mix of berries with hints of whipped vanilla. Sweetness seemed to be her signature, which he didn't mind. He just ran his fingers up and down her spine, instinctively pulling her closer by her hips. The woman couldn't help the gasp that escaped from her lips as her fingertips gripped his black shirt.

Kiara shouldn't be enjoying this. It was wrong on so many levels. Still, she couldn't help but let her eyes flutter close as she melted into his embrace. She imagined a world where the events leading to their distaste for each other didn't occur. A world where Jimin met her before Taehyung. A world where his gentle touch was normalized, yet still made goosebumps arise on her skin as if it was foreign.

The instructor's voice cut through their moment of peace, placing them back in the reality where they disliked each other. Their separation was slow, almost as if their bodies were rejecting the idea of it. Kiara's eyes met Jimin's briefly before she slid onto the floor and to the space beside him. 

The class continued with some regular solo poses before another couple exercise. Kiara sighed deeply, dreading the moment she had to feel Jimin's hands against her skin. This is what she should be feeling, right? Then why did it feel forced?

The class watched as the male instructor demonstrated the pose. It was relatively easy, like the first one, yet Kiara's face flushed with heat. This class was truly meant for couples. She wondered if Taehyung would be interested in attending one with her, but she already knew his answer would be no. The activity was too boring, and with the closeness he would convince them to ditch and never return.

"You nervous or something?" Jimin whispered, sounding almost genuine as he pulled her from her thoughts.

"No!" She snapped at him quietly.

His brows furrowed as he gestured towards the space in front of him. "Then get in position." His tone matched hers without a second thought. 

The woman glared at him despite being the one to start the trouble. Regardless, she did as she was told and stood before him. Sweat began to form in the palms of her hands as she felt his hand rest on her hip. She took a deep breath, slowly bending forward as the hand resting in the middle of her back guided her. She grasped her toes between her fingers while keeping her knees straight, causing the back of her legs to stretch. Typically, this was a very relaxing pose, and she usually would've gone a step further and wrapped her arms around her calves, almost pulling her head between her legs. Jimin's presence was a distraction—too significant not to notice—stopping her from stretching further. He wasn't doing much, but his hands gently persuaded her to continue the stretch by applying light pressure on her back while her other hand firmly kept her in place to ensure she didn't lose balance. It caused her face to flush, the feeling of his hands so gentle yet so commanding.

Curiosity flooded Kiara's mind briefly, leading her to glance at the mirror before them. And god, she wished she hadn't. It was enough that she found Jimin attractive—you'd have to be blind to say he wasn't—but with his dark eyes peering over her frame as he stood directly behind her and his brows somewhat furrowed with his head tilted to the side a bit, Kiara was surprised she didn't turn bright red at the sight. Her mind strolled to a dark area, wondering if this were the picture an onlooker would see if he was fucking her from behind. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she quickly looked away. She cursed at herself softly, knowing that specific scene would plague her thoughts for the next few nights.

Jimin inhaled deeply, trying to convince himself to remain calm. She was such a sight to see already, but bent over? It took every ounce of concentration he had not to allow blood to run opposite from his head. Despite wanting to fill the gap between them and press his hips against the woman, he stayed frozen in place. You know better, rang through his head like a mantra. Curse this class for being so sexually charged, as if couples couldn't also mean a pair of friends who like yoga as well. It felt as if the instructors were punishing the duo for speaking up against them. Although, he was pleasantly surprised with how flexible the woman was. He prayed for the moment when the instructors called for a new position, not wanting to deal with this level of torture any longer. And when they finally did, he only removed his hand from her back, allowing her to return to an upright position slowly. He watched Kiara through lowered lids. Why did it seem as if everything she did was purposely seductive? It was like the girl had lust running through her system, expressed through the way she moved and spoke. Jimin didn't back off until he got a face full of her sweet fragrance.

Kiara swiftly returned to her mat. She unzipped her hoodie, feeling as if the area just went up 20 degrees. The woman rid herself of the black fabric, leaving her in a cropped white camisole. She used her hand to fan herself, hoping that the lack of clothing and the cool air would allow her face to return to its usual shade. Jimin glanced at the girl, subtly doing a double take as her chest barely moved up and down to accommodate her breathing. He stared ahead, cursing himself mentally, as he felt he was just about to lose the fight between his head and dick. He made it through having the woman sit in his lap and bent over directly in front of him, but her standing in a camisole was what would do him in?

Fuck, he thought to himself as the instructors started to talk. Hopefully, the shrill voice of the fake-peppy woman could stop him at a chub so he could avoid the embarrassment. The sweatpants he decided to put on weren't necessarily boner-proof. Her curves were so noticeable, so divine, blessed by Aphrodite herself. He totally understood why Taehyung was drawn to her, but how he put up with her slick tongue every day during their relationship was beyond him.

The class resumed its regular poses once again, giving Jimin a break as he focused on his posture. Kiara couldn't help but glance at him now and again. The regular poses had them remain close, causing their limbs to brush each other occasionally. The slight touch was more than enough to cause goosebumps to rise on either party's skin. Almost touching each other should've burned. It should've made them recoil strongly like the heat of a nearing fire. Stolen glances between the two should've created flames fueled by disdain for the other.

But it didn't. For the first time since that fateful night when everything went to shit, they were coexisting. Neither decided to question it; instead, they just lived in the moment, considering it would be the last.

The instructors demonstrated another pose, prompting the duo and the rest of the class to follow. This one didn't seem as sexually charged. Jimin sat on the mat with his legs wide open, allowing Kiara to place herself between them. She leaned back into him, resting her head on the upper portion of his chest. The curly-haired woman tried her hardest to relax against him, knowing that this particular stretch could end with her pulling a very uncomfortable area if Kiara wasn't careful. She let her eyes flutter shut as she tilted her chin toward the ceiling. Her hands rested comfortably on Jimin as if this was just an everyday thing with him—like being comfortable with him was normal.

Jimin was utterly focused. Having Kiara this close to him again could cause some trouble for him. He had already proved to himself that his mind could go to that place easily regarding the woman. The blonde wished he could blame it on the lack of pleasurable activities, but that would be a lie. As Kiara sunk into him, her curls tickling the side of his neck, he reached forward to grab her ankles. He lifted her legs into the air, slowly but surely pulling her limbs to either side of her. Jimin's brows furrowed as he continued to pull farther than he expected her to handle. She let out a soft hum, sounding pleasant to the ears.

Jimin inhaled deeply. He had the girl spread eagle in his lap, pulling her legs back until the side of her head. He averted his eyes, looking anywhere besides the place where any other guy would gaze. He even caught the male instructor staring in her direction for too a little long. The blonde instantly narrowed his eyes at the other, jaw set and tongue ready to slit his throat if the gaze proceeded. Luckily, the man was smart. He was instantly unsettled by his gaze, looking elsewhere while pretending to help another couple. Jimin couldn't help but roll his eyes, lip curling at the thought of him possibly checking out another woman while seemingly in a relationship. Though it was an assumption, Jimin could usually tell taken men from single. The former seemed to move more cautiously or didn't care for anything else around them. The latter always had a wandering eye, interacting with the world's opportunities of the beauties bestowed on him.

Kiara opened her eyes, meeting with the ceiling before looking ahead. The way Jimin had pulled her legs, stretching her abductors pleasantly, felt amazing. She looked at their reflection, gazing at his surprisingly strong arms. Her mind traveled to a darker place where they sat in a similar position, in front of a mirror in the privacy of her home, with a lot less clothing. Kiara was so caught up in her imagination—something she definitely shouldn't be indulging in considering the state of her relationship status—that she didn't notice Jimin's gaze slowly fall upon her, their eyes meeting in the mirror once again. She seemed in a daze to him; eyes glazed over with developing lust. He only wished to get a peek inside of that mind of hers.

When she finally came to, noticing how her eyes locked with his, she glared at him and quickly averted his gaze. Her face flushed with heat, a tedious habit when it came to this man. Kiara hoped he wouldn't see the embarrassment hiding in her rose-stained cheeks, but Jimin only chuckled at the sight, and she was unsure if that infuriated her or granted her relief. She wasn't allowed to ponder her feelings as the instructors commenced wind down, consisting of the duo separating and laying next to each other on their mats. They were only a few inches apart. Jimin's finger twitched, craving an action he knew he very well shouldn't. An hour of grasping her soft skin in his hands should've sufficed him. Yet he was greedy, wanting more of her than they both knew she could give.

Kiara stared up at the dimmed, round light fixtures that hung from the ceiling until little flashes of color invaded her line of vision. She let out a deep sigh, letting her eyes shut. Her mind was a tsunami of thoughts when it was supposed to be a calm lake. Three men crashed like tidal waves on her beach of sanity, when she hoped this class would get rid of them only for a second. She didn't want to think about her annoying boyfriend, her best friend whose eyes seemed to cover hidden feelings or the blonde whose looks should match his ugly personality to make things easier on her. She attempted to drown them with silence—push them so below the surface that it would take days for them to reach the top of the wave again. 

The room became brighter as the fluorescent lights turned on, and the instructors raised the shades to let in natural lightning. Kiara heard the other occupants get up and retrieve their stuff, but she remained glued to the floor beneath her. It wasn't enough time. This class achieved the opposite of why she attended. She still felt tense, and on edge, waiting for someone to push her over.

"Well, that wasn't a total nightmare," said a voice above her. The smug tone wrapped around his words dropped like acid onto the girl's face. Opening one eye, she was graced by the image of Jimin slightly bent over, hands in his pockets, with golden hair loosely spreading out and around him like rays of the sun.

"Says who?" Kiara scoffed as she sat up, a cloud blocking his rays. Most of the class had packed their stuff, leaving a few chatty stragglers beside the duo. She gathered her things before standing up and looking at the blonde. Looking up at him, she never noticed how much she needed to tilt her head back. Why did he look like he was glowing under the fluorescent lighting? His honey-glazed skin was smooth and supple, with the faintest freckles on his cheeks. 

"Considering the fact that we've survived an hour of pretending we could tolerate being close to each other, let alone touching each other, I'll take that as a win," Jimin smirked while folding his arms over his chest.

"Fucking perv," Kiara grumbled. "You liked putting your grimy little fingers on me, didn't you?"

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy it. I saw your face."

Kiara's eyes went wide for a moment before she unknowingly mirrored Jimin's stance by folding her arms over her chest as she shifted her weight to one foot. "I have not the slightest idea of what you're talking about."

The blonde couldn't help but smile as he watched her lips form into a subtle pout, her chin tilting upwards as she tried her hardest to appear snobby. Too bad she couldn't sell it. All she managed to do was look cute. "Yeah, OK, Kiara. Whatever will help you sleep better at night."

"Of course, you would think about how I sleep." Kiara quipped. She didn't know why she always dragged out conversations with Jimin. All she had to do was ignore him and walk away, but something about his little jabs made her want to fight.

Jimin let out a loud scoff. "Don't flatter yourself. You live far from my thoughts at night."

Kiara's brows furrowed, not understanding why that comment would leave her with an uncomfortable pit in her stomach instead of swelling with relief. "Yeah OK." She bent over to pack up her equipment, knowing Jimin's eyes were gazing upon her. She slowly stood up again, regaining control of the situation. She could see how Jimin's eyelids had lowered, plump lips ever so slightly agape as if he was trying to breathe out the lingering desire in his system. "So we're just gonna pretend like you weren't just staring at me, right?"

Jimin's face suddenly twitched, like he was snapping himself back to reality. Heat followed afterward, flushing his skin with a pretty pink. Kiara giggled softly, causing his lips to tug into a small smile despite the embarrassment swimming through him. How the woman managed to shut him up, not once, but twice now, was beyond him. Jimin was the king of clapbacks. There wasn't a soul that could escape his wicked tongue until he met the beautiful girl with wild hair and a smile that could light up even the darkest of nights. He could only sigh, feigning annoyance though he was rather impressed. 

"You really think I was staring at you?"

"I know it."

Jimin didn't bother testing his luck again. Something about her threw him off his game, which was not his proudest moment. The blonde couldn't do much but watched as she swayed her hips, strolling towards the door until she stopped suddenly.

"Guess you'll have something to think about at night now," Kiara said just as she walked out of the room. Jimin's jaw fell slightly before he collected himself, scoffing quietly. A part of him was tempted to follow after, to continue the banter they had fallen into.

But he knew better than that.

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Series Page

Jeon Jungkook Series

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab)

❥genre/rating: 18 + explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits

❥description: You and Jungkook have always been at each other's throats, bound by a mutual disdain that runs deep. You both would rather step into traffic than be alone together. But when a chance encounter at a wedding leads to an unexpected and forbidden arrangement, the lines between enemies and something more begin to blur.

As your fiery clashes give way to stolen moments and fragile truces, both of you are forced to confront the pain and secrets that have kept you apart for so long. When the past and present collide, you and Jungkook must decide whether the scars you both hide are worth revealing—and if your fractured bond can ever be whole again.

❥warnings/tags: Lawyer!Jungkook, Nurse!reader, medical trauma/examinations/procedures, family trauma, slooooowwwww burrrrrnnnnnnnnnn, SMUT, these two really do hate each other, long series, swearing, drinking, smoking, angst, hurt/comfort, silly at times, tae is a menace, misunderstandings, miscommunication, unreliable information, eventual fluff, eventual pining, mentions of cheating (not the main pair), minor character death (none of the boys), eventual happy ending (it’s gonna be a minute)

❥disclaimer: Fic is cross posted to ao3, every chapter I will give associated warnings and tags that apply.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Prologue // Ch.1 // Ch.2 // Ch.3 // Ch.4 // Ch.5 // Ch.6 // Ch.7 // Ch.8 // Ch.9 // Ch.10 // Ch.11 // Ch.12 // Ch.13 // Ch.14 // Ch.15 // Ch.16 // Ch.17 // Ch.18 // Ch.19 // Ch.20 // Ch.21 // Ch.22 // Ch.23 // Ch.24 // Ch.25 //... More to Come

Ch.7 EXTRA // PLAYLIST

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

[vrstual]

ᯓ .ᐟ ⊹ The Girlfriend Contract

- part one.

ᯓ Pairing: Popular!Karina (Yu Jimin) × Cheerleader!Fem! Reader

ᯓ | When Jimin lies to her mom about being in a serious relationship, the last person she expects to drag into her mess is Y/n–the campus cheerleader she’s spent the last two years arguing with across lecture halls and parties. But now, to keep up appearances over the holidays, they have to fake date through family dinners, long car rides and even in school.

ᯓ Genre: Rivals to fake-dating to lovers, slow burn, college AU, family drama, soft angst, eventual fluff

ᯓ Warning: swearing, argument, a little toxic, family pressure.

ᯓ Content: 7k of words

part one. part two.

Yu Jimin wasn’t in love.

She’d made that clear enough times.

The guy from last week still texted her sometimes — a dumb meme or a photo of his cat — and she hadn’t blocked him, but she hadn’t replied either. Not because he did anything wrong. He just wasn’t what she wanted. No one ever was.

Not that her mom would believe that.

Jimin leaned against the kitchen counter, phone in one hand, a cooling cup of black coffee in the other.

She never understood how her best friend could be so different from her. Where she overthought, Heeseung floated. Nothing seemed to stick to him — not stress, not pressure, not the constant need to prove something. He just existed, unbothered and perfectly content in his own lane.

Sometimes she envied that. Other times, it annoyed the hell out of her.

She scrolled through her texts — mostly her group chat with Heeseung and some old party invites she never answered.

Half a pizza box balanced precariously on a pile of textbooks, a soda can sweated onto the corner of a magazine she never finished reading. The air smelled faintly like old takeout and peppermint gum.

“I swear to god, if Meredith cries one more time…” Heeseung muttered.

Jimin didn’t answer. She was too focused on the vibration of her phone lighting up again. It was her mother

Jimin stared at it for a second.

“You gonna answer that?” Heeseung asked, glancing over.

“She’s just gonna ask when I’m coming home,” Jimin muttered, already standing up. “And why I’m still single. Can’t wait.”

She slipped into her bedroom and closed the door gently behind her, pressing accept as she sank down onto the edge of her bed.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her mom’s voice was warm but clipped. “Jimin-ah. I’ve been calling.”

“I was busy. Sorry."

“Too busy to talk to your mother?” she teased lightly. “Are you still planning to come home on the 23rd?”

“Yeah. I already finished my suitcases."

A pause.

“You know, I don’t like you driving alone. That highway gets dangerous in the winter.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve done it every time to come home.”

“Just… you know I worry.” Her mom sighed.

Jimin nodded, even though her mom couldn’t see it.

“You don’t have to come alone, you know,” her mom said. “Wonyoung is bringing her girlfriend. They’ve been together almost a year now. Very sweet girl. Thoughtful. Studying medicine.”

Jimin didn’t reply.

“And Giselle’s new boyfriend is coming too, he's American. Apparently he’s learning Korean just for her. Isn’t that romantic?”

Still, silence.

“I just think… maybe it’s time you stopped pretending this doesn’t matter to you.”

Jimin blinked. “What doesn’t?”

“This. Being with someone who cares about you. You’re always so… distant. I know you’re busy with school, but you don’t even talk about anyone.”

“It's nothing to worry about, mom." Jimin said quietly.

Her mom sighed again — soft, but full of meaning. “I just want to see you happy, Jimin. That’s all. Not just smart, not just successful. Happy. With someone who looks at you like you matter.

That was the part that stuck. Jimin sat frozen for a beat too long, the lump forming quietly in her throat.

So she did what she always did when emotions got too close.

She lied.

“I’m not alone,” she said suddenly. “I… I’ve been seeing someone.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for once, her mom sounded surprised.

“Oh? Really?” Excitement was running through her mother voice, she could sense it.

Jimin’s brain stalled. And then, without thinking, she said it.

“It's uh... Y/n."

A pause.

Her mom’s tone changed instantly — from excited to genuine curiosity.

“Y/n? That girl from the cheer team? The one from last summer Giselle's gala? She’s very pretty. I didn’t know you two were close, I thought you hated her."

Jimin forced a breathy laugh. “Yeah. Neither did I.”

“Well, I’m glad,” her mom said gently. “I really am. You could bring her over to Christmas you know!"

Jimin didn’t know what to say. She mumbled something about studying and hung up as soon as she could without seeming suspicious.

She sat in the quiet of her room afterward, staring at the floor.

Y/n?

Out of everyone?

She was so screwed.

-

Heeseung bit back a laugh, but it slipped out anyway — low and sharp. He couldn’t help it. For two years now, it had been tradition: every time Y/n’s name came up, he and Jimin would roll their eyes in sync, trading sarcastic commentary like it was a sport.

She’d complain about Y/N’s perfect routines, and he’d mock her perfect smile. It was a shared hobby at this point — hating on Y/n from the sidelines. So when Jimin stood in the doorway, looking vaguely shell-shocked and muttered, “I told my mom I’m dating her,” Heeseung practically choked on his drink.

“You’re joking,” he said between wheezes. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not—stop laughing, it’s not funny, Heeseung!” Jimin whined, smacking his shoulder with the back of her hand.

Heeseung doubled over, laughter spilling out now, almost gasping. “No, it’s hilarious. You? Dating Y/n? You’ve literally called her a walking ego devil in a cheer skirt.”

“That was one time,” Jimin muttered, crossing her arms.

“You said she practices her fake angelic smile in the mirror like a villain!"

"Okay, two times.”

Heeseung just shook his head, still grinning. “How the hell are you gonna fake-date someone you can’t even make it through a room with?”

Jimin flopped onto the couch with a groan. “I don’t know. But now my mom thinks we’re soulmates or something.”

“Well, good luck with her."

-

Jimin had been waiting—maybe an hour, maybe two—just outside the gym, tucked under the edge of the overhang by the side door. Rain slid off the roof in steady sheets, cold and relentless, soaking the tips of her shoes.

She’d run out of things to scroll through on her phone half an hour ago. Now all she could do was stare at the wet pavement and rehearse what she’d say.

“Hey, so this is going to sound insane, but I need you to pretend to date me for the sake of my mom’s sanity.”

No. Too direct.

“I told my mom I’m dating you, and now I might need your help not getting disowned.”

Even worse.

She exhaled, breath fogging in the cold. Practice usually ran late — Jimin knew that. She’d walked past the gym enough times to hear music blasting well past dinner. But it was really starting to feel like Y/N wasn’t coming out at all.

Maybe this was stupid. Maybe Y/N would laugh in her face. Or worse — tell the whole squad. Jimin could already picture it: her name and the word desperate flying through the hallways by tomorrow.

Still, she stayed. Because this was the only way. And if she didn’t ask — if she didn’t try — she’d be walking into Busan with a lie and no backup. That wasn’t an option.

The gym door creaked open. Jimin’s breath hitched.

There she was. Hoodie pulled over her cheer uniform, earbuds in, completely oblivious.

Jimin stepped out from under the overhang, heart pounding.

It was now or never.

“Y/n!” Jimin called out, but her voice barely cut through the rain — or the music playing through the girl’s headphones. “Y/n!”

Still nothing.

Frustrated, Jimin jogged forward, slipping slightly on the wet concrete before reaching out and grabbing Y/n’s shoulder. The other girl flinched, startled, twisting around sharply.

Y/n pulled one earbud out, blinking. “What the hell—?”

Jimin let go immediately, a little breathless. “Sorry. I just— I’ve been waiting.”

Y/N looked her up and down, taking in the damp hoodie, the ruined sneakers, the obvious nerves. Her brows lifted slightly. "Are you okay?"

Y/n didn't cared, in fact she was just confused.

“No,” Jimin admitted, voice sharp and awkward. “I mean, yes. Kind of. Can I talk to you? It’s… important.”

Y/N crossed her arms, skeptical but curious. “Did you really wait out here in the rain for me?”

Jimin nodded.

A beat passed.

“This better be good,” Y/n muttered, stepping back under the cover of the overhang. “Talk.”

“I thought we could discuss this in a café, it’s pouring rain and it’s—uh—cold…” Jimin said, her voice trailing off awkwardly as she realized how lame it sounded.

Y/N rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed, but the edge of a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You’re gonna drag me out of the rain to talk in a café? What’s next? Do I get a flower and a soft jazz playlist too?”

Jimin rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the heat rise to her face. “No, it’s not like that. I just—It’s a lot to explain, okay?”

Y/N sighed but didn’t walk away. “Fine, whatever. Lead the way.”

Jimin exhaled in relief, hoping the warmth of a café would settle her nerves and that somehow, she could make this mess work.

-

“Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/N asked, her voice incredulous as they sat down in the café. She crossed her arms over her chest, still soaking wet but visibly irritated.

“It’s the first name that came to my mind, I swear!” she shot back, desperate to defend herself. “I panicked, okay?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Panic doesn’t usually make you pick someone you can’t stand and that can't stand you either!"

“I know, I know,” Jimin groaned, slumping in her seat. “But it just… happened. I thought I could get away with it. But then she—my mom—asked me to bring you home for Christmas.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly thrown off. “What? Me? You want me to pretend we’re dating and then go home with you for Christmas? Unbelievable."

“Exactly,” Jimin muttered, looking anywhere but at her. “It’s not like I want to ask you, but… she’s really pushing it. And I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Y/N just stared at her, blinking slowly. “You’re asking me to fake-date you in front of your whole family… so your mom won’t be disappointed?”

“Please,” Jimin begged, her voice low. “I can’t go back home without some sort of backup. I can’t just let her think I’m this messed-up failure. You don’t know what she’s like.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, then leaned back in her chair, still processing. “And what’s in it for me?”

Jimin bit her lip, her eyes flickering up to meet Y/n's. “I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Please.”

Y/n exhaled, a small smirk forming at the corner of her mouth. “Anything? Interesting…”

Jimin’s stomach dropped. “Yeah. I mean it.”

Y/N looked at her for a long, hard beat, and Jimin couldn’t tell if she was about to laugh in her face or agree. Finally, Y/n shrugged.

“Alright. I’ll help you out. But just so you know, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it because I broke up with Jeno weeks ago and this will make him furious.”

Jimin let out a relieved breath. “Deal.”

A long pause.

Then Y/n spoke again, casually stirring the straw in her iced drink.

“So… what’s the storyline?” she asked, eyes narrowing just a bit. “What exactly are we supposed to do? Am I supposed to sell Minjeong on the idea that I fell for you in a night?”

Jimin sank further into her seat, visibly cringing. “I mean… yeah. Basically.”

Y/n snorted. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I didn’t say it made sense!” Jimin shot back, flustered. “It was a heat-of-the-moment, life-flashing-before-my-eyes type of decision.”

Y/n leaned in a little, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Right. So what’s our epic love story, then? Did we bond over our mutual hatred for each other? A steamy hallway makeout after cheer competition?”

Jimin blinked. “…Wait, that’s not bad.”

Y/n raised a brow, deadpan. “You are so lucky I’m bored enough to play along." She sighed. "Let's at least make it romantic."

Jimin blinked at her. “Wait… you’re actually taking this seriously?”

“If I’m going to lie to your mom and sit through family dinners between your family members, yeah—might as well make it convincing.” Y/N shrugged, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “Besides, if I have to pretend to like you, I deserve Oscar-worthy levels of drama.”

Jimin scoffed, but there was the tiniest smile threatening to break through. “Fine. Romance it is.”

Y/n eaned forward, mock-serious. “So? What’s our meet-cute? Something dramatic. I want tension. A little forbidden energy. Give me the enemies to lovers arc.”

Jimin stared at her. “You want me to plot out a fake fanfic?”

“Exactly,” Y/N said with a satisfied nod. “You started this. Now we’re doing it right."

Y/n grinned, resting her chin on her palm as she eyed Jimin across the table.

“Also,” she added, voice almost playful, “I’ve always liked K-dramas with the worst tropes. So please, get creative.”

Jimin narrowed her eyes. “Worst tropes?”

Y/n nodded, unfazed. “Give me a tragic backstory. I want a dramatic rooftop scene. A tension-filled rain fight. Maybe even my jealous ex. I want to suffer.”

Jimin blinked. “You’re unhinged.”

“No,” Y/n said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I’m committed to the bit.”

Jimin leaned forward, tapping her nails against her coffee cup. “Alright. New story. We met by accident. Late night. Campus convenience store.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“It’s pouring rain,” Jimin said, eyes distant like she was setting a scene in her head. “I was out of ramen. You were there for honey butter chips and cold brew.”

Y/n nodded slowly, already picturing it. “We reach for the same drink?”

“No,” Jimin smirked. “You drop your chips. I step on them. Instant tension.”

“Classic.”

“I apologize, kind of. You roll your eyes, say something smart. I snap back. But we’re both too tired to really argue. So we leave it there.”

Y/n sipped her drink, clearly invested now. “And then?”

“We run into each other again. Couple nights later. Same store. This time it’s late. Like, past midnight late. No one else around. You’re in sweats. I’m in my stupid hoodie. You ask if I always eat instant food this late.”

“And you say?”

"I say, 'Only when I can’t sleep.' And then you pause, just a second too long, and say, 'Same'"

Y/n smiled softly, leaning into the vibe. “So then what, we just keep running into each other?”

Jimin nodded. “Like fate. We never plan it, but somehow, we’re always there around the same time. We start sitting outside together. Talking. Bickering. You offer me your chips. I start bringing an extra drink.”

Y/N tilted her head. “Then something shifts.”

“Exactly,” Jimin said. “It’s three in the morning. We’re sitting on the curb, legs stretched out, talking about family and futures and shit we never tell anyone. You lean your head on my shoulder.”

Y/N blinked. “And that’s when we kiss?”

Jimin grinned. “Almost. But we don’t. Not yet. Just enough tension to make it hurt.”

“Oh, I love this one. It’s giving sad gay indie K-drama energy.”

“Right?” Jimin smirked. “Now we just have to convince my mom we’re emotionally intertwined and have a history that no one else could understand.”

Y/n smiled slowly. “She won’t stand a chance.”

-

The car ride to Busan started off in near silence. Rain tapped lazily against the windshield, and the highway stretched ahead like it was daring them to speak.

Jimin had one hand on the wheel, jaw tense. Y/n sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, headphones in — but the music was off. She just didn’t want to talk.

Until she did.

“You drive like you’re allergic to speed limits,” Y/n muttered, not even glancing over.

Jimin scoffed. “I’d rather get there fast than be stuck in this car with you for an extra hour.”

“Charming,” Y/n said dryly, turning to look at her. “Remind me again why I agreed to this?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jimin snapped, “maybe because you begged for a dramatic K-drama moment and I handed you one on a silver platter?”

“Right, because nothing says romance like you glaring at me every time I breathe too loud.”

“I’m driving,” Jimin bit back. “I need to focus.”

“You need to unclench.”

Jimin hit the signal light a little too aggressively and merged lanes. “If you hate this so much, you could’ve said no."

“If I said no, I wouldn’t get to witness you crash and burn in front of your family. That’s worth the ticket.”

They were quiet for a beat. Just the low hum of tires on wet road, the occasional flick of windshield wipers.

Then—

“You always think you’re so much better than everyone,” Jimin muttered, not looking at her.

Y/n blinked, taken off guard. “Excuse me?”

“You walk around like you own every hallway. Like no one can touch you. Even now, sitting in my car, doing me a favor, and still acting like you’re above it all.”

Y/n stared at her. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Maybe not,” Jimin shot back. “But you make it really easy to hate you.”

Another beat. The silence this time was heavier. Then Y/n laughed — just once. A dry, disbelieving sound.

“Well,” she said, settling back in her seat, “that makes two of us.”

Jimin’s fingers tightened on the wheel.

They didn’t speak for the next twenty minutes.

But their thoughts were loud.

“I don’t pretend anything,” Y/n said sharply, sitting up straighter. “You’re the one lying to your mom.”

“Oh my god,” Jimin muttered, eyes fixed on the road. “Are we really doing this right now?”

“You started it.”

“You agreed to this!”

“Because I thought it would be funny, not—this.” Y/n gestured vaguely, annoyed. “I thought we’d take a few fake couple pics, smile through some awkward dinners, go home. Not—argue like we’re married in your beat-up Hyundai on the highway to hell.”

“It’s a Kia,” Jimin snapped, glaring briefly. “And you made it personal.”

“I made it personal?” Y/N laughed, incredulous. “You’ve been picking fights with me since sophomore year.”

“Because you’re infuriating.”

“Because you take everything as a personal attack!”

They were both breathing hard now, voices raised, heat building fast.

Then—

“You’re exhausting,” Jimin muttered.

“So are you,” Y/n said, quieter this time, not quite looking at her.

A long stretch of silence settled between them again, except now their breathing had slowed, tension simmering instead of boiling.

Outside, the rain picked up. Inside, the heat from the vents started to fog the windows a little.

“…I didn’t mean to pick you,” Jimin said eventually, her voice low. “Your name just came out. I didn’t even think.”

Y/n looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “I know.”

“I guess,” Jimin continued, “if I’m honest, it’s because… you’re always there. Like, in my head. Whether I like it or not.”

Y/n's brows furrowed, confused. “So you hate me but I live rent-free in your mind?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Jimin groaned, but the corner of her mouth tugged upward anyway.

Y/n bit back a smirk, then looked away. “You’re still annoying.”

“You’re worse,” Jimin muttered.

A small pause.

Then Y/n spoke, softer. “Do I look okay?”

Jimin glanced over, confused. “What?”

“For your family,” she said. “Do I look like someone you’d… bring home?”

Jimin blinked at her, eyes flicking from her face to the slight slump of her shoulders.

And despite everything — the tension, the insults, the years of barely tolerating each other — she answered honestly.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “You do.”

Y/n didn’t say anything after that. But she smiled. Just a little.

And Jimin didn’t admit it, but she saw it in the reflection of the windshield.

That was the first time the silence between them felt almost peaceful.

-

Y/n was stressed.

She told herself she didn’t care — obviously she didn’t care — but the second Jimin put the car in park in front of the house, her chest tightened like it had something to prove.

It was just a stupid lie. A favor. One awkward week with Jimin’s polished Busan family, pretend to hold hands at dinner, maybe smile for a few photo. That was the plan.

So why did her palms feel clammy? Why did her heart jump into her throat the second Jimin looked over at her and said, quietly,

“We’re here.”

The house was bigger than she expected. Not mansion-big, but definitely expensive. Warm yellow lights glowed from the windows, laughter spilled faintly from inside, and the front door was already cracked open like they’d been watching the driveway all evening.

Jimin didn’t move to get out yet. She just sat there, keys still in the ignition, fingers twitching on her lap.

Y/n swallowed hard.

She was used to pretending.

It was her thing, actually.

Hide her true emotions. No one ever saw past it — not her teammates, not her classmates, not the girls she flirted with when she was bored and didn’t feel like going home.

And for the longest time, Y/n liked it that way.

But something about this felt different.

Maybe it was the way the front door swung open and warmth spilled out — real warmth.

Or maybe it was the fact that the second Jimin’s hand brushed against hers at the threshold — not even holding, just a touch — something inside her chest flinched.

Not in fear.

In recognition.

She was good at pretending. Always had been.

They stepped out of the car, the cold evening air biting at Y/n’s exposed skin. Jimin walked around to the trunk, popped it open, and pulled out the suitcases with a grunt. Y/n didn’t move to help—just stood there, arms crossed, watching with her usual unreadable expression.

Jimin rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“What?” Y/n said, feigning innocence. “You looked like you had it handled.”

Jimin groaned under her breath, dragging the suitcase toward the walkway just as the front door burst open.

“Jimin, sweetie!” a voice called out, full of warmth and sugar and just a pinch of chaos.

A woman rushed out into the night, arms already stretched wide, face glowing. She wrapped Jimin into a hug so tight it made the younger girl lose her grip on one of the bags.

“I missed you!” she said into Jimin’s shoulder, then pulled back to look her over like a mom checking for battle wounds. “Why do you look skinnier? Have you been eating? I told you to stop drinking iced americanos for dinner!”

“Hi, Mom,” Jimin replied, almost shyly. Her smile softened the edges of her usual sarcasm. She bent to pick up the suitcase again.

Then the woman turned to Y/n.

“And you must be Y/n! I'm Taeyeon!"

Y/n froze like a deer in headlights for a second before schooling her features into something charming — the soft smile she used at cheer fundraisers, the kind that got her free coffees and made teachers forgive late assignments.

“That's me” she said, stepping forward and offering a hand, just a beat too stiff.

But Jimin’s mom didn’t shake it — she hugged her.

Y/n’s eyes widened as the woman pulled her in, warm and familiar, like she’d known her for years.

“You’re gorgeous, oh my god,” Jimin’s mom gushed, stepping back and holding her at arm’s length. “And tiny! Jimin always had a thing for tiny girls, didn’t you, honey?”

Jimin choked. “Mom.”

“What?” she grinned, waving it off. “I’m just saying! When she was younger—”

“Okay, inside, now,” Jimin interrupted, grabbing the last suitcase and brushing past them, ears turning red.

Y/n stood there for another second, a little smirk on her lips, before Jimin’s mom looped her arm through hers.

“Come on, dear. You’ll sit next to me at dinner. You’ll tell me everything about how you and Jimin met.”

Y/n glanced ahead, saw the slight panic in Jimin’s shoulders as she disappeared through the doorway.

She smiled.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

As soon as they stepped into the house, warmth wrapped around them — the kind of lived-in, cozy heat that smelled like soy sauce, steamed rice, and something baking in the oven.

And there were a lot of people.

“Well, well,” a voice called from the hallway, smooth and teasing. “Jimin didn’t tell us she was bringing someone this cute.”

Y/n looked up, caught off guard by the tall boy leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. He looked familiar — must’ve been her brother.

“She did,” Y/n replied coolly, raising an eyebrow. “You probably weren’t listening.”

Sunghoon smirked, clearly amused. “Feisty. I like it.”

“She’s my girlfriend, Sunghoon.” Jimin cut in flatly as she dropped the suitcase by the stairs. “So stop being weird.”

Y/n fought a grin as Sunghoon dramatically clutched his chest. “Girlfriend? You didn’t say she was taken!”

“I said she was coming,” Jimin muttered. “And I said to behave.”

“Jimin,” her father said warmly, stepping forward to hug her. “You should’ve called when you were getting close.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” she mumbled, hugging him back, softer now.

Then he turned to Y/n and gave a polite, reserved bow. “You must be the girl we’ve heard so little about.”

Y/n smiled awkwardly and bowed in return. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.”

“Well I'm Misook, Jimin's father." he said, stepping aside and motioning toward the living room, “Make yourself at home."

The house had already started filling with noise — the comforting kind. Plates clinking, someone laughing down the hall, a pot of stew boiling gently on the stove. Jimin and Y/n had barely finished setting the table when the front door swung open again, snow blowing in with the familiar chaos of family arrivals.

Jimin muttered under her breath, “And here comes the entire circus.”

Y/n looked up from folding napkins, eyebrows raised. “You weren’t joking.”

Aunt Haeun came in first, cheeks rosy from the cold, tugging off her scarf. “Where’s your mother? Oh, something smells amazing—”

Behind her, Uncle Hyunsoo carried two suitcases and a box of mandarin oranges like he was preparing to stay a month. “Why do we always pack like we’re moving in?”

Then came Wonyoung, tall and glowing even in the oversized coat she shrugged off effortlessly. Her girlfriend Yujin followed, already slipping out of her gloves and handing over a small gift bag with a shy smile.

Wonyoung’s eyes scanned the room — and landed on Y/n.

“Oh,” she said. “This must be her.”

Y/n stood a little straighter. “Hi, I'm Y/n.”

Yujin gave her a polite nod. “Nice to meet you.”

Wonyoung, however, looked her up and down without hiding it. Not rudely. Just… observantly. “You’re even prettier than your Instagram.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Thanks… wait you stalked me– how?”

“Wanted to know who my cousin was dating, just saying” Wonyoung added, stepping inside. “Jimin usually likes chaos. You look a little too put-together for her.”

Jimin rolled her eyes. “Nice to see you too.”

Before anyone could dwell on that, the door flew open again and Giselle arrived with her usual flair, dropping her weekender bag dramatically in the hallway. Her boyfriend trailed behind, carrying a cake and visibly regretting not wearing thicker socks.

Giselle’s gaze found Y/n almost immediately.

“Wow. You’re the girlfriend?”

Y/n offered a polite smile. “Yes. I think that’s me.”

“You look like someone who gets invited to the cool rooftop parties and never shows up.” Her tone wasn’t exactly mocking — more amused, a little intrigued. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Y/n said, eyes steady. “I do get those invites.”

From the living room, someone called out, “Stop crowding the hallway!”

Soobin appeared then, towel slung over his shoulder like he’d just helped clean something — tall, soft-eyed, and entirely too charming for his own good.

He gave Jimin a quick hug before turning toward Y/n. “And you must be the famous girlfriend.”

Y/n shook his hand, noticing the dimpled smile right away. “Famous really?”

"Well it's been only a week since Jimin told aunt Taeyeon and she kept talking about you. Anyway, I’m Soobin. Jimin’s cousin — sadly still single, in case that wasn’t obvious.” He winked.

Jimin groaned. “Can you not.”

Mrs. Yu popped her head in from the kitchen, apron tied around her waist. “Everyone’s here? Good. Come help me set the soup, please!”

Y/n was about to follow, but Soobin cut in again. “You cook too?”

“I try,” she said.

“She does,” Jimin mumbled, grabbing the stack of bowls. “She’s basically Miss Perfect.” She says trying to show that she knew her–fake–girlfriend.

“Wow,” Giselle said under her breath, exchanging a look with Wonyoung. “So that’s new.”

Wonyoung smiled tightly. “Can’t wait to hear that story.”

And just like that, Y/n felt it — not hostility, not even dislike. Just curiosity. A little skepticism. Like they were all trying to figure out where she fit in the picture. If she was just a visitor in Jimin’s life — or something more.

Jimin passed her a bowl and gave her a look.

“You okay?”

Y/n nodded, quietly. “Yeah. It’s just… a lot.”

Jimin paused, then added, “It always is. But they’ll get used to you.”

-

The dinner had been… surprisingly pleasant. Y/n couldn’t deny it. The food had been delicious, and as much as she tried to stay neutral, she found herself laughing with Wonyoung and Giselle more than she’d expected. They’d shared funny anecdotes about Jimin’s childhood, embarrassing family moments that made her realize how normal Jimin’s life was outside of the walls of college, outside the walls they’d built up around each other.

Y/n had laughed, genuinely. It felt so… human. Like they were showing her parts of Jimin that she’d never even considered before. She found herself liking it, maybe too much.

But Jimin had been quiet through it all, picking at her food, her eyes darting between Y/n and the rest of the room. It was subtle, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Every time Y/n made a joke or spoke a little too easily with her cousins, Jimin’s smile seemed to falter, just for a split second.

It was like she didn’t want Y/n to get too comfortable. To become too familiar with her family.

To cross a line.

Home.

Y/n thought about that word as she sipped her drink, the weight of it settling in her chest. It wasn’t just where they were sitting right now, under laughter ringing in the background. It was the way Jimin’s face had softened just a little when talking about her mom earlier. Or how her brother, Sunghoon, had cracked a stupid joke and Jimin had genuinely laughed — not the sarcastic kind, but the real one that reached her eyes.

For a second, Y/n let herself consider it — maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I really fit in here. If I could stay a little longer, get used to them…

But then she glanced over at Jimin, who was still sitting at the edge of the table, half turned away from the conversation, looking like she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words out. The shift in her mood was palpable.

She didn’t want her to get close. That was obvious.

Maybe she didn’t want Y/n the warmth of home — it was too real. Too personal. And the thought of someone else, especially someone like Y/n, having access to it? That was too much for Jimin to handle right now.

Still, as Y/n looked across the table at her, she realized something else, too. Maybe Jimin wasn’t as cold as I thought. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t hate the idea of being trusted with someone.

-

Y/n lay awake in Jimin’s old room, the one of her childhood — memories frozen in time. After a long and tiring Christmas dinner with Jimin’s family, everyone had finally retreated to their rooms. But something about the stillness in the air, the way everything seemed to breathe a different kind of quiet here, kept Y/n wide awake.

Her eyes wandered around the room, taking in the familiar yet unfamiliar sight. It was cozy, yet clearly a room from another time. There was a mix of things: an old, dusty teddy bear tucked in the corner, a few scattered school trophies on the shelf, and colorful plush pillows that had been there since Jimin’s middle school days. Her room, untouched by time, told the story of someone trying to hold onto childhood, even in the face of growing up.

Y/n rolled over and glanced at the photos hanging on the walls. There were a few frames of young Jimin, her face so different from the confident, polished woman Y/n had come to know. Here, Jimin was just a girl — a middle schooler, awkward and shy, posing for the camera with her family and friends, her eyes shining with innocence. There were pictures of her grinning with friends Y/n would probably never meet.

The one that caught Y/n’s attention the most was a picture of a much younger Jimin, standing beside a smiling boy who looked remarkably like her brother, Sunghoon. The two were at what appeared to be a family picnic, both holding ice cream cones. Jimin’s smile was wide, carefree — a stark contrast to the guarded look she wore now. Her eyes softened as she studied the picture.

She had never considered Jimin as someone with a life before everything — before the fierce exterior, before the social circle and the reputation. She wondered, briefly, what had shaped Jimin into the person she was now. Who was she before all of the expectations? Before her family’s high standards and the pressure of being in the spotlight?

Y/n reached up and gently traced the edge of one of the frames, her thoughts drifting to how little she actually knew about Jimin’s past. She felt a small pang of guilt, realizing how little she had ever really cared to know. She had always seen Jimin as a barrier, a target of her own insecurities and fears. She had never stopped to consider what Jimin had been through to become the person she was today.

The silence in the room grew thicker, and the weight of everything they had both been pretending began to settle over Y/n’s chest.

Suddenly, Jimin’s voice cut through her thoughts as she opened the door coming back from shower.

“You’re still up?”

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, looking over at the doorway where Jimin stood, her face partially obscured by the dim light from the hallway. She was wearing a loose shirt and pajama pants, her hair slightly messy as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Yeah,” Y/n replied softly, her voice betraying a hint of surprise. “Just… looking around.”

Jimin walked into the room and sat down on the edge of her bed, glancing at the photos the cheerleader had been looking at. “I see you found my middle school pictures,”

Y/n gave a faint nod, feeling awkward for lingering over something so personal. “You were… really different.” Her voice was quiet, as if not wanting to intrude too much.

Jimin let out a small, dry laugh. “I guess. People change.”

Y/n paused for a moment, unsure whether to ask the next question. But her curiosity got the best of her. “Do you ever miss it? The… before?”

Jimin’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, her fingers tracing the edge of her blanket. There was a long pause before she answered, her tone surprisingly soft. “Sometimes,” she admitted quietly. “But I think I had to grow up too fast. I didn’t really have a choice. My mom… she wanted me to be perfect, and I guess… I tried.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Y/n wasn’t sure what to say, not sure if she was crossing a line or not. But the vulnerability in Jimin’s voice felt different from anything she had ever heard from her.

“I think your mom wanted you to be happy, to build your future so you could be happy. She must have done it wrong.... It's a lot.” Y/n finally said, her voice quieter than before.

Jimin shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “It is what it is. You can’t change the past.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation lingering in the room like an unspoken truth. It was the first time they had really opened up to each other, even if just a little. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

After a few more minutes of quiet, the two of them, still sitting in the dimly lit room, began to realize just how awkward the situation was.

Jimin shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting to the bed, and then to Y/n, before finally settling on the door as if it might suddenly offer an escape. But of course, there was no escaping the reality of the room. There was one bed. And they were both stuck here for the night.

Y/n, sensing the tension, turned to look at Jimin. Her gaze met Jimin’s for a split second before both of them awkwardly glanced away. It was strange, they were forced into an entirely new situation. They had been at each other’s throats for so long, but now, it felt like the walls were starting to crack.

“Uh,” Y/n began, breaking the silence with an awkward laugh. “I guess we’re supposed to… sleep here?”

Jimin, her arms crossed tightly in front of her, didn’t seem thrilled about the prospect. “Yeah, looks like it,” she muttered, eyes narrowing as she looked at the bed, as though it had personally offended her.

Y/n glanced at the single bed again, then back at Jimin. A thought occurred to her. “So… how do you usually do this? I mean, not like… ‘this’—but… you know…”

“Well,” Jimin started, her voice almost hesitant, “my family thinks we are a couple, one bed is actually normal…” She let out a deep breath, clearly at a loss for words. “This is beyond the usual.”

Y/n bit her lip, her mind racing for a solution. They couldn’t exactly sleep side by side in the same bed. That would be far too strange. The thought made her skin crawl a little, and she saw that Jimin was just as uncomfortable as she was. The idea of sharing such a small space for the night—close quarters like this—seemed impossible for two people who barely tolerated each other.

“Wait!” Y/n suddenly exclaimed, the idea coming to her as she looked around the room. “Pillows.”

Jimin blinked at her. “What?”

“No, hear me out,” Y/N said, her voice gaining confidence as she scanned the room. “We can make a pillow barrier, a—uh—‘fortress’ between us. We’ll each have our own side of the bed, and it’ll be like an invisible wall.” She motioned to the pillows on the bed and around the room.

Jimin paused, staring at her like she’d just suggested something absurd. “A pillow fortress?”

Y/n grinned. “Yeah, it’s genius, right? Just a row of pillows between us, and we’ll have our own little spaces. It’ll work.”

Jimin rolled her eyes but finally relented. “Fine. Let’s build your… fortress.”

Y/n wasted no time. She started pulling pillows from the bed and stacking them between them, creating a makeshift barrier down the middle. Jimin watched her for a second before grabbing the remaining pillows and joining in, her usual sarcasm temporarily forgotten.

When they were done, they stepped back and admired their work. The fortress of pillows between them was not exactly elegant, but it served its purpose—each side was now officially off-limits.

“Well,” Jimin said after a moment of silence, raising an eyebrow. “At least now I have some distance from you. It’s like a little… wall of peace.”

Y/N leaned back against her side of the bed, satisfied. “Exactly. Now we can both sleep peacefully without worrying about invading each other’s space.”

There was a pause. Then, a soft, unexpected chuckle escaped from Jimin. “This is ridiculous.”

Y/n grinned, unable to help herself. “It works, though.”

Jimin shook her head, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don’t even want to know how long you’ve been plotting this.”

Y/n laughed. “You have no idea.”

And for the first time since they had started this whole fake dating charade, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate, even if just for a moment. The fortress was still silly, still an odd solution to an odd problem, but it somehow brought a sense of lightness that neither of them had expected.

As they lay there in the dim room, the pillow wall between them, they both found it a little easier to breathe.

-

The apartment door clicked shut behind them, the hum of Seoul’s city noise instantly muffled. The silence between them wasn’t comfortable. It was tense, like a storm waiting to break.

Jimin kicked off her shoes and dropped her bag by the door, heading straight for the kitchen without saying a word. Y/n followed, arms crossed, scowl already forming on her face.

“Where's Heeseung?" Y/n asked earning only a small shrug from Jimin. "So, are you gonna tell me what your problem is?” she snapped.

Jimin scoffed as she opened the fridge, staring inside like it had answers. “My problem? You’re really asking me that?”

“Yeah, I am. You’ve been acting like a brat ever since we got off the car.”

Jimin shut the fridge a little too hard and turned around. “Because my mom wants to invite you to her spring birthday lunch. Because Wonyoung asked if you’d come for Chuseok. Because suddenly everyone loves you, Y/n.”

Y/n blinked. “Okay, and?”

“And now I have to explain why my so-called girlfriend disappears before my mom can start sewing you into the family tree.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault that your entire family likes me?” Y/n said, voice rising. “You dragged me into this lie and now you’re mad that it worked well?”

Jimin’s jaw tensed. “It was supposed to be a week. A performance. You were supposed to be a cold and indifferent cheer brat—like you usually are."

“Well, sorry for having manners,” Y/n bit back. “Maybe your family’s just desperate to see you with someone who isn’t a Tinder hookup.”

Jimin’s face snapped toward her. “Watch it.”

“No, you watch it. I helped you. I played the role. I met your weird aunt and sat through your cousin’s playlist of EXO dance covers. You’re mad because your lie worked too well.”

Jimin paced, dragging her hands through her hair. She wasn’t yelling anymore—she was spiraling. “They’re already talking about summer. Asking when I’m gonna bring you again. My mom was glowing.”

Y/n leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “Then tell her we broke up.”

Jimin froze.

Y/n raised a brow. “Simple solution, no?”

“Yeah. Except she’ll want to know why. And how. And when. And then she’ll cry and say it’s because I don’t try hard enough with people and that I ruin everything.”

Silence.

Y/n let out a slow exhale. “Okay. So… what now?”

Jimin hesitated, then sighed. “We fake it a little longer.”

Y/n blinked. “How much longer?”

“Until May.”

“May!?”

Jimin shrugged, already sounding resigned. “That’s when your cheer nationals are, right? It makes sense. We break up after—‘distance’, ‘conflicting schedules’, whatever. Clean timeline.”

Y/n stared at her, baffled. “You really thought this through.”

“No, I’m thinking it through now, because my mom just texted me again asking what your favorite color is.”

Y/n stared. “What is wrong with her?”

“She’s a hopeless romantic. She thinks you’re the one.”

Y/n dragged a hand down her face. “Fine. We fake date until May. But you’re driving me to every practice and buying my coffee. Non-negotiable.”

Jimin rolled her eyes. “Deal. But you’re texting my mom on my behalf until she stops sending me couple bracelets on Instagram.”

They locked eyes, and for a split second, something like amusement flickered between them. But it passed as fast as it came.

The war was still on.

Only now… it had a timeline.

Jimin reached for her phone, already typing a reply to her mom, something about Y/n loving the color navy blue and tulips. Y/n watched her from the kitchen doorway, still not quite sure how the hell this became her life.

“This is so dumb,” she muttered.

Jimin didn’t look up. “You agreed.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t complain about it.”

They locked eyes again, this time without yelling, just the sharp simmer of something complicated brewing beneath the surface.

“Just survive until May,” Jimin said, voice flat.

Y/n nodded, grabbing her bag again and heading toward the spare room. “Easy,” she muttered under her breath.

Neither of them believed that.

-

[angelicyoongie]

(you're) always on my mind (I)

— pairing: bird hybrid jimin x (f) reader — word count: 5.1k — summary: When your workplace announces that they've decided to promote collaboration between departments, you suddenly find yourself face to face with your sworn nemesis Park Jimin. Your plans to avoid him are quickly foiled as his presence turns the floor into a madhouse, your coworkers all vying for his attention. With so many people at his beck and call, why is it that Jimin is always so insistent on getting in your way?

01 - 02 - 03 / Masterlist

Gentle hums accompany you as you flick through the pages on your desk, highlighting the important keywords in your proposal.

Adjusting the reading glasses that are slipping down your nose, you glance to the side to find Jungkook twirling a pen between his fingers, staring at the same empty email as he has been for the past thirty minutes. Working beside Jungkook for the past three years has given you enough time to learn his cues and grow so accustomed to them that you no longer really notice when they happen.

In the beginning, the humming and singing under his breath would drive insane when you were trying to concentrate but you've since come to appreciate it. Jungkook would have a field day if he knew, but the truth is that you've found yourself missing the constant stream of the current top 10 pop songs on the days he's not in the office. 

"Do you need help with the email?" You ask as you flip to another page, tapping the highlighter against your chin as you scan through the words.

The humming – which you've learned Jungkook resorts to whenever he's feeling stressed – is cut off by a groan. 

"No, it's fine." 

You hear Jungkook clicking his mouse before the screen next to yours goes dark.

"I know that this workshop would improve my skill set but I'm not sure how to convince Mr. Shin of the same thing. For a company that's always pushing improvement and development, they sure hate to invest in it." 

"Tell me about it," You let out a quiet snort. "You know I had to beg Mr. Shin for months just let me attend a three-hour seminar the higher-ups had recommended for all the marketing employees." 

You see a mop of brown hair fall to the desk in your periphery, Jungkook letting out another upset sound. You give him a half-hearted pat on the back, quickly turning back to your proposal. 

"I'm hungry," Jungkook whines.

"And I'm not done yet," You reply as you drag your pen across another important section. 

"But it's officially lunchtime–" Jungkook goes silent for a beat as he picks up his phone, staring at the clock until it hits noon on the dot, "- right now! It won't make a difference if you hand in that proposal now or in an hour, you know Mr. Shin never looks at anything until after he's had his lunch."

"I can feel my body growing weaker with every passing second, Y/n, my vision is getting blurry, I can't feel my toes–" 

You roll your eyes as Jungkook dramatically slips off his chair, sinking to the floor between your desks. You place your pen down with a sigh, turning your head to find him already staring at you with wide, pleading eyes. 

"Are you really that hungry?" 

"Starving," Jungkook nods solemnly.

You spare your almost-finished proposal another glance. You know that Jungkook is right but the perfectionist in you hates to leave anything longer than you have to. Still, what difference will an hour make?

"Fine," You concede as you put your pen down, "Let's go get lunch." 

Jungkook lets out a victorious sound as he springs to his feet. He barely lets you grab your wallet before he pulls you out of your seat, throwing an arm around your shoulder to steer to toward the elevator before you can change your mind.

"So, what's the special today?" You ask as you both cram yourself into the open elevator, Jungkook's beefy frame providing some extra leeway from the other workers. You truly have no clue how his business casual attire has made it this long without ripping at the seams, you swear he's only getting more muscular with every passing week. 

"Pork belly," He gives you a sheepish smile.

"That explains the dramatics," You shake your head, smiling back at him.

You both hurry out of the elevator when it reaches the floor of the cafeteria, not wanting to get stuck in line behind everyone else. You pout as what must be a leopard hybrid slips past you, their natural gait so quick you only really catch sight of the tip of their black tail as they round the corner into the cafeteria. You and Jungkook are just regular old humans, so there is no competition there. 

As soon as you both have your food, with Jungkook's plate stacked so high you're worried it might topple over as you make your way through the cafeteria, you scan the crowd for a familiar set of antlers. You give Hoseok a bright smile as you spot him at an empty table, the deer hybrid is always quicker than the two of you to get out of his duties and grab a table. 

"There are my overachievers!" Hoseok greets you as you both take a seat. "Lunch started exactly seven minutes ago, why are you so late?" 

Jungkook lets out a sigh as he gets comfortable next to Hoseok, his chopsticks already loaded with meat as he says, "Y/n is working on another proposal." 

"Ah," Hoseok nods his head as if that explains everything, his reddish-brown hair bobbing along with the motion.

You childishly stick out your tongue, ignoring their laughter as you take a bite of your food. You don't mind their little jabs because you know they're right. You are an overachiever, but that's simply because you like what you do and you take pride in your work. It makes you happy when the ideas you've worked hard on get approved and implemented. 

"I do admire your work ethic, Y/n," Hoseok points out as he stuffs a lettuce wrap full of vegetables into his mouth. "I just don't relate. I'm only here for that sweet, sweet paycheck I get at the end of the month." 

Jungkook gives Hoseok a high-five. 

"Let me guess, you're only here to fund your figurine collection?" You raise an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

"You know me so well," Jungkook shoots you a finger heart, one you quickly redirect in Hoseok's direction with a swipe of your hand.

Jungkook lets out an affronted gasp as Hoseok snatches it up, clutching his hand to his chest as he mutters, "That's so mean. I'm never going to give you another finger heart ever again."

"That's fine by me, keep them for your waifus," You bicker back. 

Jungkook ducks as Hoseok laughs, the deer hybrid's antlers getting dangerously close to his face as Hoseok leans to the side. There's a reason you tend to sit across from Hoseok and not next to him - your reflexes aren't as good as Jungkook's. 

Hoseok's giggles taper off into an amused expression as he looks towards the cafeteria entrance, "Hm, there's certainly one person in this company that can relate to your ambitious nature."

You glance over your shoulder, your eyes immediately locking on to the person he was referring to. The other employees in the cafeteria part like the red sea as Park Jimin makes his way through the room, their expressions awed as they take in the hybrid's dashing looks. Today, Jimin's deep dark blue hair is swept to the side, revealing his unblemished skin and pretty features. His large wings are folded behind his back, the blue feathers showing off their purple tint whenever the sun hits them just right. All that to say, you think the most striking part about Jimin might be his violet-colored eyes. There's something about the color that just makes his gaze feel so intense – captivating, almost. 

"Come to think of it, the two of you would be perfect for each other!" 

Your attention snaps back to Hoseok so fast you hear something in your neck pop. You scowl at him, kicking his shin under the table as you hiss, "Do you secretly hate me or something? Don't ever suggest something like that again."

Hoseok throws his hands up in the air, confused.

"I'm sorry? I just figured you might enjoy being workaholics together, gods know Park is just as bad as you are."

"Hyung," Jungkook shakes his head, "Trust me, you do not want to see the two of them together in the same room. Just based on the tone of the emails they exchanged last year during a project, it's obvious they're not compatible. At all. I thought Y/n was going to break her keyboard in two with how hard she was hitting the keys every time she had to reply to him." 

The reminder makes you huff, your chopstick stabbing into a piece of pork belly with vengeance. You had tried to be courteous at first, to collaborate with him in a friendly manner fit for work, but it hadn't taken many exchanges before you realized that Park Jimin didn't deserve that. His emails oozed with cockiness and he always presented his ideas as if they were something you had already agreed on, instead of something to be considered. What you detested the most about that project was that Jimin's proposal was eventually picked over yours. The gloating smile he flashed you during the final meeting still makes your blood boil even now. 

"Oh, my bad," Hoseok grimaces, dropping the subject as he takes note of the displeasure on your face.

You sigh, turning to pick up a napkin as your gaze subconsciously seeks out Jimin in the room. He's made his way over to a table with what must be co-workers from his and Hoseok's department, his eyes forming crescent moons as he grins at something that's said.

You don't manage to look away before Jimin glances up and locks eyes with you. His expression turns smug as he catches you staring, his hand reaching out to cover the female employee's fingers that are curled around his arm. He says something that makes her swoon, her loud giggles carrying across the room. 

Your stomach sours as you watch them blatantly flirt, annoyed with how Jimin seems to have no decorum in general when it comes to work. Even the company couples know to keep it professional during office hours. 

You roll your eyes, turning back to watch Jungkook shovel the last of his meal into his mouth. 

With your appetite officially gone, you dap the napkin to your lips, scowling as you say, "I'd rather quit my job than ever work with him again." 

Shortly after lunch is over, you finally put the last touches on your proposal, ready to go hand it in. You look over the pages one final time, making sure they're all in order and neatly lined up before you slip them into a clear folder. Just as you place your hands on your desk, ready to push yourself up from your chair, the door to Mr. Shin's office unexpectedly opens. 

He claps his hands twice to get the attention of the department, the office falling silent as they all turn their eyes and ears to him. 

"Everyone, I require your attention for a moment."

You relax back down into your chair as Mr. Shin walks further into the office, making sure he's visible to all the employees who are scattered around. He glances at his watch, smiling to himself before he explains, "As of last month, it was decided that the company will be testing out a new work system where employees from certain departments will be moved around to promote better in-house collaboration. This will hopefully bring some new and fresh ideas to our projects and we hope to see your creativity and motivation flourish as a result." 

"We will be welcoming the top worker from the development department, one I am sure will bring a valuable new perspective to our team. Mr. Park, if you will–" 

A terrible feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as Park Jimin strides into the room, a perfectly pleasant smile painted on his deceitful face as he takes his place next to Mr. Shin. Jimin takes his time looking around the room, sharing smiles and soft greetings with the workers closest to him. His violet eyes seem to zero in on you when he finds your desk on the other side of the office, the wings behind his back ruffling slightly. You can only assume it means that he's as annoyed as you are to be sharing the same department.

You can feel your lips twisting into a scowl as you glance back at Mr. Shin, the older man smiling so brightly at Jimin you would almost think he hung the sun in the sky every morning.

"Wonderful! As you know, we have a new big project coming up and I previously asked you all to submit your proposals for how we should best promote this new venture. Although I'm sure you've all been working hard on your ideas so far, I can tell you now that you may scratch that task off your list."

You suck in a small breath, your fingers tightening around the folder in your grip. There's no way Mr. Shin has done something so unfair, it must be about something different–

"Mr. Park had a fantastic proposal, one I believe will take this project to new heights, so I would like to announce that his ideas have been chosen and that we are all in good hands with this new addition to our team." 

Your gaze involuntarily flickers back to Jimin as applause breaks out in the office. The bird hybrid doesn't seem to have looked away from you at all and that self-assured, cocky smile blooms on his lips as he no doubt sees the defeat on your face. 

You don't think you've ever despised a person more than you do Park Jimin. 

Jimin's taunting eyes are momentarily blocked from view as Mr. Shin goes to shake his hand, the rest of the office using it as their opportunity to go greet (or flirt with) their new team member. You look away, finding Jungkook staring at you with a slightly horrified expression.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry, I really didn't think that hour would make a difference," He pleads.

"It's not your fault, this must've already been decided a few days ago," You answer, trying your best to keep the annoyance out of your voice. Jungkook didn't do anything wrong after all.

With a sigh, you throw away your proposal, already knowing you're going to have to pick up a bottle of wine on the way home to keep yourself in check. Crying all night over a wasted proposal is out of the question, especially since you know Jimin would probably gloat about it if he ever found out.

"But if you do feel bad, I wouldn't mind something from your stash," You pout.

Jungkook scrambles to open his secret candy drawer, the one he always keeps locked whenever he steps away from his desk. For a man who works out so religiously, he sure has a terrible sweet tooth. 

You give him a soft thank you as he hands you one of your favorite bars of chocolate.

You sink in your chair, biting into the bar in hopes that the sweet taste will overpower some of the bitterness coating your tongue as you hear Jimin's airy laughter fill the room, the hybrid already more at home than you've ever felt in this department.

Tapping your foot, you internally groan over how slow the office printer is spitting out your papers. 

Your day already got off on the wrong foot. Turns out that drinking a whole bottle of wine by yourself was a bad idea on a weekday and it was with a splitting headache that you had to get dressed in a rush and sprint to get to your commute on time. With no time left for coffee before having to clock in, you've been left to nurse your pounding head down to a dull ache with just some water and aspirin graciously provided to you by Jungkook.

Safe to say, you're not having a good time today.  

So, it comes as no surprise that the printer suddenly decides to jam, the machine whirling loudly as it tries to unclog the stuck paper.

"Fuck, you have to be kidding me," You curse under your breath as you give the machine a frustrated kick. Could your day get any worse?

"Careful, Y/n, or I might have to report you to HR for destruction of property."

The sound of Park Jimin's voice right behind you makes you jump, your surprise causing you to whirl around so fast your own feet can't keep up. Jimin grabs your arm as you stumble back, his hold just enough to keep you from crashing right into the printer.

"Shit, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?" 

It's the genuine worry in Jimin's voice that makes you glance at his face, his delicate features twisted with concern as he looks you over. You find yourself a little dumbstruck seeing Jimin up close for the first time, the words not leaving your mouth as you take all of him in. His violet eyes feel endless as you look into them, the darker hues around his iris creating an absolutely mesmerizing color. As Jimin shifts his weight, you notice for the first time that there are a few scattered feathers slicked back with the rest of his hair. The texture is just slightly noticeable nestled between his blue locks, the color just as deep as his wings. 

It's the sound of hushed murmurs that remind you of where you are, your arm still securely held in Jimin's warm grip. It's impossible to glance over Jimin's shoulder with how high the curve of his wings are, but a quick look around them confirms that you're being watched by two female employees. The pair of them have been following Jimin around all day, disrupting your workflow with their high-pitched giggles whenever he spared them an ounce of attention.

It's obvious that they're not happy that Jimin is talking to you and not them. So yes, it turns out that your day could, in fact, get worse. You have no intention of attracting their ire and certainly not because of Park Jimin. 

"I'm fine," You reply, shaking off his hand, "I'll go call IT for help." 

Jimin's feathers rustle uneasily as you move to walk back to your desk, his gaze traveling between you and the printer before his face suddenly lights up. 

"There's no need for that, Y/n, I'll fix it for you."

The cocky smile he sends you way makes a shiver travel down your spine, the spot on your arm still warm from where he held it. To Jimin's credit, he does seem to know what he's doing. It only takes a minute of him opening a panel before the printer stops complaining and whirls back to life, the rest of your papers slowly being pumped out onto the tray at the other end. 

Jimin dusts his hand off, smiling proudly as he says, "There you go." 

You collect your papers as the last one gets spit out, very aware that Jimin hasn't made a move to go back to his desk yet. You turn to face him, sighing internally as you see the expectant look on his face.

"... Thank you," You tersely say. 

Jimin's chest seems to puff out a little at that. His expression turns smug as he leans in a little closer, the tone of his voice flirtatious as he asks, "If you're feeling thankful, maybe you can buy me lunch? I would be more than happy to accept." 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, you should've known that his ulterior motive would be to humiliate you more. You'd bring him to lunch and then what? He would probably talk your ear off about how much better he is and how his proposal was picked over yours – that he's more qualified for your job than you are.

You give him an unimpressed look back, gesturing to the two whispering employees as you say, "I'll pass. It seems your fan club is waiting for you and more than willing to buy you all the food your heart desires." 

Walking off before Jimin can reply, you ignore the dirty looks the women send you as you pass them by, your sights set on your desk. 

It turns out that today might be a perfect day for checking out that café Jungkook found on the other side of town, after all. 

With each passing day, you're becoming more and more confident that the universe is out to get you. 

It's only been a week since Jimin was transferred to your department but somehow, it has felt like a year. The hybrid is always within your line of sight and the gaggle of people following him around are really starting to disrupt your work and get on your nerves. Not even Jungkook's gentle singing is enough to drown out the constant hushed gossip and giggles echoing across the floor anymore.

You sink into your chair with a sigh, vexed by how you couldn't even escape Jimin's presence in the bathroom. The other women washing their hands and touching up their makeup couldn't stop gushing about how handsome and sweet and utterly kind he was – you almost felt a little bad that they had been so fooled by his faux persona.

Cunning and infuriating would be much more fitting adjectives to describe him with. 

"I think you got an email earlier," Jungkook mumbles, his eyes set on his computer screen. His brows are furrowed with concentration as he types out his workshop request. It seems that with Mr. Shin's increasingly happy mood now that Jimin's around, Jungkook has decided he might as well try to get it approved.

"Thanks."

You click on the blinking icon at the corner of your screen, and a tiny flash of hope surges through you as you notice the sender. Maybe Mr. Shin changed his mind about Jimin's proposal, or maybe he has something else for you to work on, something that will take you far, far away from the office–

Disbelief quickly crushes that sliver of hope as you read through Mr. Shin's email. He wants you to help Jimin. Apparently, some of the preliminary ideas you submitted to your supervisor ahead of your proposal would be a great asset to the new project, and Mr. Shin believes that sharing them with Jimin will strengthen the department's teamwork. 

Grinding your teeth, you find the old files and send them to print, holding yourself back from writing an unsavory reply that would most definitely get you fired. You can't believe you're being asked to help the enemy, the same man who snubbed you of the chance to even hand in your proposal in the first place. 

"I don't want to interact with him," You groan, rubbing your forehead. 

"Who?" Jungkook asks.

"Who do you think?" You deadpan, giving his chair a light kick.

"Well–" Jungkook lifts his glance away from his screen, craning his neck to peer over the divider. "He's not at this desk right now so if you hurry, you won't have to talk to him at all." 

You didn't notice it before, but the office has been suspiciously quiet for the past ten minutes, completely void of the hushed giggles that seem to accompany Jimin. Following Jungkook's lead, you slowly get out of your seat, glancing around the floor to make sure the hybrid is nowhere in sight.

Finding everything clear, you hurry over to the printer, thankful that it has decided to cooperate for once. Grabbing your papers, you beeline for Jimin's desk, hoping to drop them off and get out of there as quickly as possible. Just as you're about to slam the papers down and be done with it, the state of Jimin's desk freezes you in your tracks.

Everything is blue. All the supplies that could possibly be personalized – his pens, sticky notes, keyboard, mouse, even a small potted plant – are all in varying shades of blue. You can only deduce that it's a hybrid thing, something that has to do with his specific species. Or, well, maybe he just really likes blue. Either way, it's certainly not what you were expecting. 

It's the ding of the elevator announcing its arrival that snaps you back into motion, the sound of flirty laughter carrying into the office as its doors begin to open. You hastily leave the files on the side of his desk, careful not to disturb the placement of his things before scurrying back to your side of the department floor. You take your seat just as Jimin waltzes back into the office, the usual group of women and men following him around. 

"You'd think he was a god or something," You roll your eyes.

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, way too nonchalant as he says, "I mean, he is handsome enough to be one." 

You turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow as you say, "Jeon Jungkook, did you just compliment the enemy?"

Jungkook gives you a sheepish smile in return, flicking the ends of his hair as he replies, "Beauty recognizes beauty, Y/n, it can't be helped." 

"You're right," You smile, all sweet, "I guess it also can't be helped that I now only have one friend in this company. But since Hoseok doesn't enjoy meat, I guess I'll just how to throw out all of the delicious cuts I got for our monthly dinner tomorrow – what a shame."

"Wait, Y/n!–" Jungkook scrambles in his chair, dragging himself closer to your desk. "I was just joking, you know that right? Please don't throw away the meat." 

You stare him down for a second, narrowing your eyes before turning back to your screen. "We'll see."

Despite your less-than-great eyesight, even you know that Jungkook is right. It pains you to admit it, but Jimin is beautiful. Even so, Jungkook should know not to praise that handsome, winged demon right in front of you.

So, you ignore Jungkook's puppy eyes in favor of your work, giving him a taste of the betrayal you just felt. You can never feign being upset with him for long but ten minutes?

That you can do.

Though, you suppose you should have known that Jungkook wouldn't let you get away with threatening his precious meat. 

"Jungkook–"

You roll your eyes as Jungkook's pout deepens, his head turning away from you dramatically.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'll never joke around about pork belly ever again."

"Do you promise?" He huffs. 

Jungkook only turns to look at you once you promise that yes, you'll never do something like that ever again. His sunny demeanor is back the moment the words leave your lips, proving once again that you were right when you introduced him to Hoseok as a master manipulator. It's impossible to not feel like a monster when those doe eyes are staring at you with all the sadness in the world. 

You slowly begin to pack up your things as Jungkook chatters away about a new anime he's found, doing your usual steps as you log off and power down your computer. Just as you're about to clock out for the day, you hear your name being called from the other side of the floor. Getting out of your seat, you see Mr. Shin waving you over to his office, signaling that he wants to talk to you. 

"You should go ahead," You tell Jungkook as you leave your packed bag and coat at your desk. "I don't know how long this is going to take but I'll text you once I'm done."

"I'm holding you to that!" Jungkook wags his finger. 

You wave Jungkook goodbye for the day as you cross the floor, taking a deep breath to calm your sudden nerves. As you reach Mr. Shin's office, you softly clear your throat, pulling on your clothes to make sure you look presentable before knocking on his door. 

"Come in." 

You open the door as you hear Mr. Shin's muffled voice telling you to enter, the pleasant smile on your face faltering just the slightest as you notice that Park Jimin is already present.

"Sir, you called for me?"

Mr. Shin waves you closer to his desk, gesturing for you to take the seat next to Jimin. You keep your eyes forward, not daring to look at the hybrid lest you accidentally pull a face.

"Ah yes, it's about the new project. We reviewed the suggestions you proposed and decided that they would complement Park's ideas very well. With the spirit of department teamwork in mind, Mr. Park proposed that you would both work together on this project, sharing the responsibility."

"Oh, that's.." You trail off, not quite sure what to say. This was not what you envisioned when you entered the room.

You turn your head to look at Jimin, the bird hybrid sporting an unreadable expression. You can't tell if he's upset with the news or not – you can't imagine Park would be thrilled to be forced to spend time with you – but wait, did your supervisor say that–

"You asked for me?"

"Of course," Jimin nods, "It wouldn't be right to use your ideas without you on the team."

There's no trace of the usual cockiness you've come to associate with Jimin, nor any of that flirty demeanor. To your surprise, Jimin appears to be fully serious for once. 

"Right," You reply, at a loss for words. This was a twist you had not seen coming. 

"So, what do you say Miss Y/n? Would you like to collaborate with Mr. Park on this project?"

Frankly, working with Jimin is the last thing you want to do. But the fact that your ideas will be implemented in the project no matter if you're there to take credit for it or not, is what convinces you to jump head first into what's surely going to become your own personal hell for the next few months. 

You spare Jimin another glance, plastering on your best smile as you inform Mr. Shin that,

"I would love to, thank you for giving me this opportunity." 

The bird hybrid's chest puffs out minutely at your agreement, that sly smile returning to his lips.

You have no doubt that he has an ulterior motive for including you in his project. But no matter what Jimin decides to throw at you – you sure as hell won't be going down without a fight. 

a/n: welcome to this silly little fic! i've been wanting to write something more lighthearted for a while so this felt like the perfect story to do just that 💖 will the mc and jimin survive being stuck together for a project?? only time will tell (actually, you'll know in a few weeks lol)!

i would love to hear your thoughts so far and reblogs are very much appreciated 💖

[chimcess]

Bittersweet || myg (1)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Other Tags: Grad Student!Yoongi, Undergrad!Reader, Grad Student!Hoseok, Uncle!Namjoon, Doctor!Namjoon, Grad Student!Jimin, Fuckboy!Jungkook, GradStudent!Jungkook, Boss!Seokjin, Yoongi POV Genre: College!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, kinda Student/Teacher but not really, Older!Yoongi, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut Word Count: 19.9k+ Summary: When a cynical graduate student meets an overly enthusiastic undergraduate, the air crackles with tension—though not all of it is good. Warnings: Mean!Yoongi, he's extremely rude, like extremely so, prank gone wrong, bitter grad student to the max, strong language, Jimin is a snitch, possible wrong science information (i'm sorry i'm not perfect), sexual tension, reader faints at the sight of blood, unfunny pranks, Yoongi is jaded, he's a softie once you get to know him, hospital visit, non-descriptive male masterbation, reader has a stutter when nervous, Yoongi just being in denial for almost 20k words, kissing at work, almost caught, Jealous!Yoongi, i'm sorry but this JK is kind of a slime ball, Reader knows what she's doing, they're adorable, lots of bickering, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Another old draft I found buried in my Google Docs! I didn't need to change too much, and it's very loosely edited, so please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes. This was rather long (and I don't know why I never posted it), so it had to be split into two parts because of Tumblr's new rules. Thanks for reading!

Next

Subject: Undergrad Mentoring From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 6:18 AM   To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Yoongi,  

I’m forwarding an email from a brilliant undergraduate. Have you thought about mentoring a student? I really think you should.  

— Jin  

---

From: ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 2:08 AM   To: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Subject: Undergraduate Research  

Dear Professor Kim,  

My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m a junior in the School of Arts and Sciences, majoring in microbiology. I’m incredibly interested in undergraduate research, particularly in your fascinating work on Helicobacter pylori and its connection to stomach cancer.  

Although I don’t have prior research experience, I’m hardworking and responsible, and I would appreciate the chance to join your team. Please let me know if you have space available in your lab.  

Attached are my CV and transcript.  

Thank you!  

Y/N Y/L/N  

---

Dr. Seokjin Kim Member, Division of Basic Sciences   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

I stared at Jin's email, the words bouncing around in my head. No previous research experience? Oh great! Just fucking great!

As the clock hit noon, I trudged into the break room, where the fluorescent lights buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. It was my little escape, my sanctuary from the suffocating hallways of academia. Hoseok, the only graduate student I considered a friend, was already inhaling his lunch.

I plopped my Tupperware into the microwave, the day’s weight pressing down on me like a thick fog. “Jin wants me to take on an undergrad,” I grumbled, feeling the words stick in my throat.

“Seriously?” Hoseok asked, mouth half-full. He didn’t even bother to swallow before adding, “Have them do the dishes.”

“Oh man, this is going to suck,” I muttered, stirring my mac and cheese with the enthusiasm of a person headed to their execution. “I have to train her, and she has zero lab experience. I don’t have time for this crap.”

The microwave beeped, its harsh sound grating against my nerves. I pulled out my steaming food, the steam rising ominously. “I tried to get out of it, but Jin insisted it’s ‘all part of the training.’” I mimicked his voice, nasal and overdramatic. Hoseok chuckled, nearly choking on his food.

I dug into my lunch, my mind racing. “She’s probably some pre-med trying to pad her CV. Calling our research ‘fascinating’ like she even knows what we do here—just another cookie-cutter student firing off a hundred emails.” 

“Maybe she’s cute?” Hoseok waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring him. My single status was a constant source of irritation for him. He meant well, but his attempts at matchmaking were like trying to fix a flat tire with a spoon.

“I already did my required TA-ing last year, and it nearly gave me an ulcer. I thought I was done with whiny undergrads! This really sucks!” The words burst out, hot and angry. The idea of babysitting a clueless student gnawed at me like a persistent itch.

I focused on my research, hoping it would be my ticket out of this academic purgatory. Mentoring an undergrad was the last thing I needed—a distraction threatening to derail my meticulously planned escape.

After lunch, I headed to the incubator to check on my cultures, the familiar hum a small comfort amidst the chaos. Then I settled at my desk, drafting a reluctant email to the undergrad, my words dripping with begrudging obligation.

From: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 1:05 PM   To: ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Come to the lab on Monday between 8 AM and 7 PM. Bring your schedule.  

Yoongi Min PhD Candidate   Kim Lab   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

This was going to suck.

“Hi, I’m looking for Yoongi Min?” A stranger’s voice cut through the quiet of the lab, and I felt my focus waver. I was knee-deep in DNA sequencing data, desperately searching for a start codon when the interruption struck like nails on a chalkboard.

“That’s him over there,” Jimin, my lab mate, replied. I didn’t need to look up; I knew he was pointing at me.

“CTT ATC GTG ACT…” I murmured; eyes glued to the screen. The code demanded my attention.

A shadow crept closer, invading my peripheral vision. I ignored it, hyper-fixated on the screen.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” the shadow solidified into the undergrad I’d been dreading. I continued to stare at the screen, unwilling to break my concentration.

“Did you bring your schedule?” My voice was clipped, an attempt to maintain my rhythm.

CGC CTC CGT ATG… There it was! I highlighted the start codon, feeling a small sense of victory amidst the irritation. Finally, I turned to face her. She held a crumpled piece of paper in trembling hands.

The crackling noise of the paper grated on my nerves, and I snatched it from her. A quick scan revealed she had a limited availability. Tuesdays and Thursdays it was.

“Do you want one or two credits?” I asked, filling out her form with practiced efficiency.

“Oh… um… t-two,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Oh great, a stammerer. I disliked her already. My frustration bubbled beneath the surface.

“That’s ten hours a week,” I said, scribbling on the form. “Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, maybe some Wednesday mornings.” I thrust the completed form back at her and turned back to my computer.

“See you tomorrow,” I dismissed her with a wave, eager to end the interaction. Her stammering was already wearing on my patience.

When I returned from lunch, she was perched at my bench. A laugh escaped me at the sight of her attire.

“What the hell is that?” I pointed at her lab coat, which was covered in hand-drawn bacteria.

She jumped, eyes wide. “My la-la-lab coat?” she stuttered.

Oh great, she’s a fucking idiot.

I took a deep breath, scanning her outfit for safety violations. At least she wore closed shoes and jeans, but her long hair hung loose.

“You should tie your hair up. You’ll be working near the flame.”

She pulled a hairband from her wrist and started tying her hair back. As I walked past, I noticed the back of her lab coat had “Bacteria Rule” scrawled in huge letters.

Bacteria Rule? Is she serious? I wanted to stab my eyes out with the pen in my hand. Who wastes time drawing on a lab coat? Nobody in their right mind, that’s for sure.

Something was off about her—I was certain of it. Concerned about her competence, I decided she couldn’t be trusted with any real work. Instead, I assigned her mundane chores, the kind even a high schooler could handle. It might not have been what Jin envisioned, but it was the only way.

God, I’m already dreading this. Can it be Friday already?

Hoseok and I lounged in the break room, our feet propped up on the coffee table, Tupperwares in our laps. The lack of a proper dining table didn’t bother us; it still beat eating at our desks.

“How’s it going with the undergrad?” Hoseok asked, mouth full.

“I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong with her,” I said, dead serious.

Hoseok laughed, even though I wasn’t joking.

“All she does is nod at what I say,” I elaborated. “Like one of those bobblehead dolls.” I stretched my neck and bobbed my head for effect. “Except she has bangs flopping all over her face when she nods frantically at everything I say.”

Hoseok snorted but kept eating.

“And she stutters! Well, when she speaks, that is. She doesn’t speak much. I kind of like that about her.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Sounds like you’re in love, bro.”

“Fuck you, Hoseok,” I shot back, uninterested. I already knew where this was heading.

“Is she cute?” Hoseok asked, glancing at me with a smirk.

“She’s a baby.”

“Is she a cute baby?”

“Hoseok, she’s… she’s a zygote.”

“Well, maybe with this zygote, you’ll learn how to be human again.” He turned his attention back to his food.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. You’re not exactly social, bro. All you do is lab stuff and occasionally hang out with me and Serena.”

“What are you talking about? I am social.” My tone came out whiny, betraying my disbelief.

“Oh, really?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, gesturing to my Tupperware. “So social that you prefer to eat alone in the lab over joining us in the break room?”

“Do you even hear yourself? You’re such a dork. I eat in here because the lab is a mess, not because I’m antisocial.” I shrugged, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping into my cheeks.

“Whatever you say, Yoongi,” he laughed, clearly unconvinced.  

I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about this right now. Instead, I grabbed my backpack, bracing myself for the next round of research duties.

After a few weeks of working together, I had to admit—albeit grudgingly—that the undergrad was following instructions better than I’d expected. If I could just ignore her ridiculous lab coat and the way those bangs flopped annoyingly over her forehead, she wouldn’t be half bad. The real annoyance, though, was her constant presence invading my space. But honestly, it could be worse; at least she wasn’t stammering nonstop. Most of the time, she barely spoke, and mercifully, she didn’t ask a ton of questions.

As I walked back from lunch with Hoseok, I was surprised to realize I didn’t dread the thought of the undergrad being in the lab when I arrived. Maybe having her shadow me wouldn’t be the end of the world after all.

Of course, the moment that thought crossed my mind, I jinxed myself. Stepping into the lab, I found her cleaning my bench, and a wave of irritation crashed over me. 

“What the heck are you doing?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

She flinched, turning slowly to face me, her gloved hands still gripping an ethanol squeeze bottle. “I-I just thought I’d clean up a bit,” she stammered.

“Did you touch my samples?” I shot back, a surge of panic coursing through me.

“Which samples?” 

“Those!” I pointed at the upside-down tubes that had been perfectly positioned when I left, now carelessly shoved to the side. 

“I-I just mov—”

“Did you touch my RNA samples?” Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air—an annoyingly stupid fish. “Do you know how labile RNA is?”

“L-la-labile?” 

“Yes! Unstable—easily degradable. The main point here: you don’t touch my RNA samples!” 

“I-I used gloves… I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tears shimmering in her eyes. 

If she started crying, I was really going to lose it. 

I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose to calm the storm brewing inside me. Slipping on my own gloves, I gently set my samples back in their rightful place, praying I hadn’t lost a week’s worth of work. 

I could hear her sniffling next to me, and I groaned out loud. “Why don’t you and your la-la-lab coat coat go find something useful to do?” 

I listened as she shuffled away, clearly eager to escape my sight. I should have known better than to think this arrangement would work out.

From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Monday, February 14, 2024, 6:27 AM To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu

Yoongi,  

Part of the undergrad training involves more than just doing chores. Cleaning dishes, stacking pipette tips, and capping tubes do not count as experiments.  

I expect your undergrad to have enough experimental data to give a presentation at the end of the semester.  

Jin  

What the hell? Did she tell him I’m only having her do chores? 

Shit, shit, shit, shit. 

Jin was right, though. All she’d done these past few weeks were chores. Aside from that little incident with my RNA samples, she hadn’t completely messed up yet. Maybe I should cut her some slack and give her a real project. She might learn something—or at the very least, realize how frustrating science could be and decide to give up on it sooner rather than later. 

Oh God, how was she going to give a presentation if she couldn’t even say one coherent sentence without stuttering? 

This would be an embarrassment, not just for her but for me too. If she messed up, she’d make me look bad. 

Decision made. I needed to lighten up a bit and actually try to teach her something.

On Thursday, the undergrad was busy with her chores when I approached her, project sheet in hand. 

She looked at it, her eyebrows raised. “What is this?” 

“Your project for the next few weeks.” 

Her face lit up with excitement. 

“You didn’t have to go crying to Jin. I was going to give you a project anyway.” 

Her smile faltered into a frown. “W-What are you talking about?” She gazed up at me, bewildered, but I waved her off, unwilling to explain further. 

“Enough chattering. Those tubes aren’t going to wash themselves.” 

Gotcha, undergrad. Your puppy dog eyes don’t work on me.

It was the first week of real work for the undergrad, and I felt a knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. My palms were clammy, and my heart raced uncomfortably. 

Am I excited about this? Nah… I’m probably just hungry.

“Do you know what PCR is?” 

She nodded eagerly, pulling out her notepad, ready to take notes. 

I explained how I wanted her to amplify two toxin genes from a set of H. pylori samples that had just arrived that morning from the hospital. Naturally, I only gave her a small subset of the total samples. It was a manageable number—enough for her to play around with, but not so many that I’d be ready to murder her if she messed up.

As usual, the undergrad took notes on everything I said, jotting down even where I pointed out the locations of various equipment. For all I knew, she was sketching a detailed map of the lab in that notepad of hers.

The undergrad sat at the bench, PCR tubes lined up in front of her, the protocol to her left, pipettes to her right, and a rack of reagents looming in the back. I watched her as she stared at everything, nervously picking at the edges of her gloves. 

She was going to drive me insane. 

“Do you know how to use the pipettes?” 

She looked up at me, shaking her head timidly. 

“Why didn’t you say so?” My voice came out louder than intended, and she flinched. 

We were never going to get anywhere like this. 

I took a deep breath and tried again, grabbing one of the micropipettes. “You set the volume here.” I pointed to the rings. “Clockwise to increase, counterclockwise to decrease.” 

I demonstrated, twisting the rings as I explained the display window and where to discard the disposable tips when she was done. 

After a few trials, the undergrad carefully pipetted into the PCR tubes, preparing the reaction with surprising precision. 

She was focused, making sure not to contaminate anything. It was clear she was paying close attention to every detail. 

Skilled hands, I noted, feeling a flicker of satisfaction. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.

I led the undergrad into the darkroom, where shadows clung to the walls like forgotten secrets, ready to ensnare us. The air was thick with a sharp, chemical tang, buzzing with anticipation as we approached the agarose gel. The PCR products shimmered faintly under the dim light, a hidden treasure waiting to be revealed. Surprisingly, a flicker of excitement sparked within me, a rare departure from my usual brooding.

“The ethidium bromide binds to the DNA,” I explained, my voice echoing softly in the sterile silence. “When we expose it to UV light, it fluoresces an orange color. You’ll see the PCR products light up on the gel.”

She walked beside me, clutching the gel like a sacred relic, her wide eyes absorbing every word. I could almost see the gears turning in her mind, likely wishing she had her notepad to document my brilliance, as if capturing my words would somehow validate her existence.

As we stepped into the darkroom, she hesitated, like a deer caught in headlights, before gingerly placing the gel inside the UV box. She moved carefully, avoiding the pitfalls of air bubbles that could ruin everything. Either she’d done this before, or she had the sense to read up on it. 

Good. I liked a prepared undergrad.

Once she’d set the gel, I instructed her to turn off the lights. The room plunged into darkness, and I leaned in, my heart racing a little faster. Peering into the UV box, I couldn’t help but grin. “Well, look at that. All your reactions worked.”

“Really?” Her voice trembled from the back, laced with a quiver of hope.

“Yeah,” I called back, though the shadows played tricks on me. “Come closer so you can see.”

I waited, but she lingered in the gloom, frozen as if afraid to approach the light. “Come here, I don’t bite,” I coaxed, trying to keep my tone lighthearted.

Finally, she moved, her profile illuminated under the eerie purple glow. Her eyes widened, and a smile broke across her face like dawn piercing through a dark night. I snorted softly, amused by how easily undergrads were impressed.

After she soaked in the spectacle, I showed her how to take a photo of her gel, and we returned to the lab. She began dutifully filling in her lab notebook, and a glimmer of pride swelled within me. That was until I checked her progress later. The notebook was pristine—a meticulous record of her every move since day one. Hope flickered in my chest, only to sputter out when I turned to the last page. There it was, taped prominently: a picture of the gel with “All worked!” scrawled underneath, accompanied by a crude smiley face.

A fucking smiley face.

This undergrad, I thought, definitely had a screw loose.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” 

“What’s wrong with it?” I glanced down at my sweater, a worn piece of fabric riddled with holes—just like my soul. It was what I had been wearing all day, and it sufficed. 

“It has holes in it.”

“And?” I shot back, genuinely baffled. It was just clothing—a shield against the chill of the world.

“Are you making a fashion statement? You do know grunge was over twenty years ago? I know you live in Seattle and all, but I’m not digging the Kurt Cobain look… at all.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. “I’m starting to regret bringing you to this.”

“Relax, it’s just beers with Hobi and Serena,” she said, rolling her eyes like I was some petulant child.

I raked a hand through my hair, but it sprang back defiantly, so I slapped on a beanie to cover the chaos.

“You know, Yoongi, it wouldn’t hurt to wash your hair once in a while. How are you going to meet any cute girls?”

Here we go again.

“Yoonji, would you get off my case? I don’t want to meet anybody.” 

Yoonji dropped in at least once a month, a whirlwind of concern and relentless nagging. She never believed me when I claimed to be fine over the phone. 

It was endearing, in a way, but mostly a burden I didn’t need. My family was my anchor, yet their relentless need to take care of me felt like shackles.

“Okay, okay... let’s go then.” 

“It’s just beers, for crying out loud.” 

“I’m telling you to relax.” 

In the car, I felt her eyes boring into me. “It’s just... I worry about you.” She brushed her hand along my arm, and I sighed.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, but I could see the disbelief flickering across her face. “Really. I’m just tired of school. I want to start real life already. I’ll be twenty-six this summer, and I’m still stuck in this academic limbo.”

“Hell, I’m twenty-seven!” Hoseok said when we arrived at the bar, lifting his pint in a mock salute. “And look at all the fuck I give!” He downed it with a flourish.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I shot back.

“Hey,” Serena interjected, her tone warning.

“It’s okay…” Hoseok waved dismissively. “He’s just got a bad case of graduate bitterness.”

Graduate bitterness... yes, that was exactly it. A malaise that settled in my bones like a persistent chill. I glanced around, my throat tightening as if the weight of my uncertainty was squeezing the life out of me.

I led the undergrad through the winding corridors of the building, our footsteps echoing like whispers in the shadows. She walked beside me in near silence, her gaze occasionally darting down to her notepad, scribbling furiously as if the ink might escape her. If only she spent as much time observing her surroundings as she did with her frantic notes, she wouldn’t need them to find her way back to the sequencing facility.

There was something peculiar about her. She avoided meeting my eyes, her demeanor skirting the edges of unease, a deep-seated shyness that pricked at my irritation. And Hoseok thinks I’m the antisocial one!

As we turned a corner, I pondered the unspoken rules of social behavior in the lab when we suddenly bumped into Jungkook Wand, another graduate student known for his knack for lurking around.

“Min,” he greeted, his gaze fixated on my undergrad, likely eyeing her in that ridiculous lab coat that looked like it had seen better days. Why she insisted on wearing that tattered garment was beyond me.

“We missed you at happy hour,” he added, his eyes still glued to her, ignoring me completely.

Every Friday, the department hosted a gathering that, while lame, at least offered beer. Last week, Yoonji was visiting, and I wouldn’t have dreamed of dragging her into that debacle.

“Yeah, my cousin was in town,” I managed, trying to shake off the feeling of being an afterthought.

Jungkook’s smile widened as he turned his attention to her. I should probably introduce them, but for the life of me, her name eluded me. Panic set in like a cold sweat.

“Hi,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin that felt a bit too eager.

Shit. What was her name again?

The girl glanced up at me, and a flash of annoyance crossed her features, as if she could read my mind. “I’m Y/N,” she said, her voice laced with indignation as she extended her hand. The scowl she shot me could peel paint off the walls.

Y/N. The name landed in my mind like a lead weight. How had I forgotten it?

Before I could muster an excuse, Jungkook was launching into conversation, his gaze lingering on her with a familiarity that irked me. I didn’t like Jungkook, nor the way he looked at my undergrad, so I steered her away from him, back toward the safety of the lab.

Now, what was her name again? Damn it.

The following week, I was knee-deep in sequence alignments at my cluttered desk when the fire alarm shrieked, slicing through the stillness like a knife. I turned to find my undergrad, her wide eyes betraying sheer panic. 

She thought it was real. In that moment, a mischievous idea sparked in my mind. 

“Run, Becca! Run!” I shouted, leaping from my chair.

“What?” 

The color drained from her face, and I couldn't help but laugh as confusion and fear played out across her features— priceless. I doubled over, laughter bubbling out like soda from a shaken can. 

The alarm blared on, drowning out her startled gasp as she clutched a rack of tubes, trembling. “It’s just a fire drill! Relax!” I finally managed to gasp.

She set the tubes down, took a deep breath, and shot me a glare, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “That was not funny,” she huffed, her voice laced with indignation. “And my name is Y/N!”

With that, she stormed off, leaving me with echoes of my laughter still ringing in my ears. 

Oh, being social was unexpectedly entertaining!

The fire alarms continued to test my patience, ringing again and again. Each time, I chuckled at the memory of her startled expression. Now, standing outside for what felt like the fifth time, I glanced sideways at Y/N, who was shifting her weight from foot to foot, hands shoved into her pockets. 

“Want to grab some coffee?” I asked, feeling an odd urge to make amends.

She blinked at me, surprise flickering across her face as if she couldn’t believe I was actually talking to her.

The cafeteria at the library was our destination, and we walked in silence, the clouds parting for a moment to let in the faintest hint of sunshine. 

As we stood in line, I noticed her tense shoulders. Suddenly, she muttered a string of curses under her breath. Before I could react, her arm was around mine, grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, bewildered.

She maintained her smile but released me, stepping in front. “Say something funny,” she ordered, her voice low and urgent.

“What?”

Then she erupted in laughter, leaving me standing there in utter confusion.

She pressed a hand against my chest, and I wasn’t sure whether to be amused or alarmed. Was this how lab partners acted in her world?

But just as quickly as the laughter came, it faded, and she stepped back, looking sheepish, as if the moment had been a strange dream.

I moved up in line to get my coffee. “Do you want anything?”

“No, thanks,” she replied, shaking her head. I decided to drop the subject entirely.

As we started heading back, she caught up to me, her expression suddenly earnest. “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “There’s this guy, Jonah. He won’t take a hint. I thought if he saw me with someone…”

I tuned out her words, her rhythm a blur as I realized just how bizarre everything was.

Could undergrads get any weirder?

Sitting alone on a bench Wednesday afternoon, I savored the solitude when Jungkook appeared, looming over me like a vulture. 

“Min,” he said, his tone dripping with false familiarity.

I glared at him, not in the mood for whatever nonsense he was about to spill. 

“Where’s that cute little thing you were with?” 

“Who?”

“You know, the one in the colorful lab coat.”

Colorful? I snorted, recalling the eyesore she wore.

“She’s not here,” I replied curtly.

“Got her number?”

“Why would I have her number? And why do you want it?”

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk spreading across his face. “You know… you and her…”

I cut him off, anger flaring in my chest. “Me and her what?”

“Is she up for grabs?”

I couldn’t believe he’d come to my lab just to ask about her.

“Jungkook, she’s an undergrad.”

He laughed, completely oblivious. “Dude, have you looked at her? She’s fine.”

“Yeah, and she’s crazy.”

“Even better!” His expression made my stomach churn.

“I don’t have her number, and if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.”

With that, I shoved my earbuds in, blocking him out as he stormed off, his words echoing in my mind.

Fucking creep.

Even though it was Friday—one of those days Y/N usually avoided—the lab felt off-kilter, like an old, rickety house holding its breath. She hovered at my desk while I pulled up the sequencing results on my laptop. Last night, I’d sent her a simple email, expecting a casual response. But her reply had come back faster than a ghost in the night. She wanted to see the data today.

As we sat there, the silence between us thickened, almost palpable. Her face was a mask of concentration, but her expressions kept faltering, crumpling like old paper. Not that I cared too much; she had to learn that research was 90% disappointment wrapped in frustration.

“Why didn’t it work?” she asked, her voice tinged with sadness, as if she were mourning a lost hope.

“Maybe you made a mistake?” I suggested, trying to sound casual.

“I was very careful,” she shot back, defensive, her eyes narrowing like a predator ready to pounce.

How typical. Pre-med students always thought they were immune to failure, that the universe owed them success on a silver platter.

“It happens,” I shrugged, trying to dismiss the tension.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her brows knitting together.

“There's a reason it’s called research. If you only had to do it once, it would be called a search.”

“So, what do I do now?”

“You start over.”

“From the beginning?” Her voice trembled, disbelief flickering in her eyes.

“Yeah.”

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she gazed at her notebook, defeated. Her eyes flitted to the calendar on the wall, and her pencil scratched furiously on the pad. “Can I come tomorrow? I want to have cells growing by Monday.”

Her eagerness surprised me. I added “overachiever” to the growing list of quirks that made Y/N so peculiar.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“I know that.”

“Don’t you have a frat party to attend?” I quipped, but her glare silenced me, a reprimand that cut through the lab's sterile air. “Fine, come tomorrow,” I relented, knowing I’d be here anyway. Weekends in the lab were the best; no distractions, just the hum of machinery and the click of keys.

“Awesomesauce!” she chirped, her smile lighting up the dim room. I rolled my eyes, annoyed yet impressed by her determination. Maybe, just maybe, she had what it took for grad school after all.

Saturdays were sacred—my little slice of peace amid the storm of classes and lab reports. After a killer morning workout, I made my way back to the lab, my damp hair fluttering in the cool breeze. Just as I settled into my zone, my phone buzzed with a message that snapped me back to reality. 

“Mr. Graduate Student, I’m at the front of the building. Y/N.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at her cheesy attempt at humor. By the time I reached the entrance, I found her wrestling with her hair, tying it up into a high ponytail that looked like it could give anyone a headache just by looking at it. But when she caught sight of me, her face lit up with a grin that could brighten the cloudiest day.

“Very funny,” I replied dryly as I held the door open for her. “It’s Yoongi, remember?”

As we stepped inside, the silence stretched between us, thick and awkward. I considered tossing out a quip about her hairstyle or her lab coat, but then a mischievous prank began to brew in my mind—dark and delightful, like a noxious weed spreading through my thoughts.

“Start your experiment from scratch,” I said, forcing a serious tone. “Could be that my reagents were contaminated.”

Her eyes widened, and I could barely suppress a smirk. It was a complete lie, of course; the old autoclave in the corner was already wheezing like an ancient beast. But picturing her panic was too tempting. 

Settling at my bench, I could barely contain my excitement. But instead of the expected rush of alarm, there was a loud crash—glass shattering like a million tiny dreams—and then silence. 

What the hell was that?

I found her on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass that sparkled like lost hopes. The autoclave hissed and wheezed, steam curling around us like a ghost. I rushed to her side, trying to stem the leak with my hands. 

“What happened?” I asked, crouching beside her. She looked like a wilted flower, her head buried in her knees, eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you okay?” I tried again, dread pooling in my stomach as I saw her trembling hands. Her breath came in quick bursts, and my heart raced. 

She mumbled something I couldn’t catch, her palm pressed hard against her leg. “Let me see,” I urged, only to be hit with a wave of horror: a deep gash across her palm, crimson pooling onto the cold tiles.

Oh, no...

Panic surged as I scooped her up, her fragile body slumping against mine. “You’re okay,” I whispered, the words feeling hollow. “It’s okay.” 

I hurried her to the sink, the cool water a sharp contrast to the rising heat in the lab. She buried her face in my chest, her panic palpable against my shirt. 

“Is there still blood?” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Mostly gone. But we need to get to the ER,” I insisted, urgency tightening my tone.

She groaned, eyes still shut tight, her composure slipping away. 

“Please, open your eyes,” I pleaded, gently lifting her chin. I rubbed my thumb along her cheek, trying to anchor her to reality.

“Can you walk?” 

She nodded weakly, but when she tried to stand, her legs buckled. I swept her back up, panic clawing at my throat. 

What have I done? The air felt thick with dread, and I knew I had to get her out of there. 

I carried her to my car, the world outside fading into a blur, as if the universe was holding its breath. Carefully, I placed her in the passenger seat, her eyes still shut like she was blocking out the horrors around us. I fastened her seatbelt, feeling the weight of the moment. "Please say something," I urged, glancing at her, desperate for any sign of life.

"I hate blood," she mumbled, voice fragile.

Relief washed over me—she was talking. It struck me as strange that a pre-med student would detest blood. "Are you still dizzy?" 

She nodded, and my heart sank at her admission. The crease in her forehead deepened, and I wanted nothing more than to smooth it away.

"We’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes," I promised, focusing on the road ahead.

"Would you distract me, so I don’t think about the blood?" 

"I don’t know how," I admitted sheepishly.

"Say something funny." 

"Funny? Okay. It’s pretty funny that you want to go to med school and you faint at the sight of blood." 

"Who says I'm pre-med?" she shot back, and I blinked in surprise.

"You're not?" 

"No, and that really wasn’t funny. Talking about blood isn’t going to help me forget about it." 

Frustration clawed at me as I struggled for something to say. 

"What do you want me to say?" 

"Don’t you know any jokes?" There was an edge of frustration in her voice.

"No." 

"Everyone knows at least one joke, Yoongi." The way she said my name sent a jolt through me, tightening my stomach with something close to admiration.

Before I knew it, I blurted out the lamest joke I could remember from college. "Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar," I began, watching her lips twitch upward. "One says, ‘I think I've lost an electron.’ The other asks, ‘Are you sure?’ The first replies, ‘Yes. I'm positive.’"

I cringed at how cheesy it was, but when her smile finally broke through, it felt like winning the lottery.

"That was lame," she said, but the glimmer of her smile gave me hope.

At a red light, I risked a glance at her. Her eyes were still closed, but the pale green tint to her skin had faded, replaced by a healthy glow. My heart swelled with relief.

The driver behind me honked impatiently, snapping me back to reality.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, noticing her fingers curling around her injured wrist. 

She nodded, a pout forming on her lips that made my heart ache. I nearly missed a stop sign, cursing under my breath.

"God, I’m such a jerk," I muttered, guilt gnawing at me. I had messed up, all in the name of a stupid joke. I racked my brain for something else to say but came up empty.

"I don’t know any more jokes, but I was good at geeky pickup lines back in college," I offered, desperate to lift her spirits. Her smile returned, lighting up the car.

"This better be good," she warned teasingly.

"If I were an enzyme, I’d be DNA helicase, so I could unzip your genes." 

"Oh my God," she snorted, and I laughed, relieved to see her react. "Did you use that on anybody?" 

"Maybe," I hinted, my chest tightening with excitement.

"Did it work?" 

"No," I admitted, but I was laughing now, and she was grinning, even with her eyes still closed. I was determined to keep her smiling. 

"Oh! Do you like The Police?" 

"The police?" She frowned, confusion crossing her features.

"Yeah…" 

"As in the profession?" 

"No, you dork. The band. Sting's band?" 

"Oh, yeah. I guess." She shrugged.

And against my better judgment, I cleared my throat and began singing. "Every bond you break… Every electron you take…"

Finally, her eyes fluttered open, surprise and delight dancing across her face. I couldn’t help but wiggle my eyebrows, and her smile broadened, banishing the shadows of panic. "Oh, can’t you see, you’re covalently bonded to me…" I sang, pouring my energy into the ridiculousness of it. Nothing felt more beautiful than the light in her eyes. 

How had I never noticed how amazing her smile was before?

We pulled into the University’s Medical Center in under ten minutes, just like I expected. I parked quickly and rushed around to help her out, but she stumbled out on her own, nearly losing her balance. I caught her just before she could face plant onto the pavement—or worse, land hard on her injured hand.

I could feel irritation bubbling up inside me. Did she really think I wouldn’t help? Sure, I was an idiot sometimes, but I still had a decent sense of gentlemanly instincts. 

“Can you walk?” I asked, keeping my hand around her elbow as we approached the entrance.

“I think so,” she replied softly, but I kept my grip steady, guiding her into the emergency room. 

Inside, a flicker of relief hit me—the place was nearly empty, and we should get seen fairly quickly. “Hello,” I said to the front desk lady, who was glued to her computer screen. She glanced up, her expression completely bored, and didn’t reply. Instant dislike. 

“She cut her hand, and it looks deep,” I said, gesturing toward Y/N beside me.

“Name?” The front desk lady’s question hung in the air like a sword about to drop, and suddenly, I froze.

Goddammit…

She didn’t mean my name. My stomach twisted as I desperately searched my memory. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten her name again.

It starts with a B, doesn’t it? I racked my brain, stalling as the front desk lady’s eyebrows shot up impatiently.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” came the shaky voice next to me, cutting through my fog of embarrassment.

God, I was such an idiot! I wanted to punch myself for being so careless.

I looked at her—Y/N—and even though she shook her head, a grin crept onto the corner of her mouth. Maybe, just maybe, I was forgiven. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N… I repeated silently, determined that this time I would remember.

I was convinced that the “doctor” tending to Y/N wasn’t a real doctor—not yet, anyway. He claimed the cut wasn’t deep and that it hadn’t damaged any tendons or nerves. He even said it was clean enough to glue shut, which apparently was a thing now. But my gut twisted with doubt; something about him set off alarms in my head.

Y/N had her eyes squeezed shut, clutching my hand like it was a lifeline while this wannabe physician—Doogie Howser, I mentally dubbed him—cleaned her wound. She perched on the examination table, her injured hand resting on a tray beside her, as I stood behind her, anxiety tightening my chest. In the chaos of her injury and my desperate attempts to care for her, her ponytail had loosened, hanging low at the nape of her neck. A sudden curiosity gripped me: What would her hair look like, cascading down like a waterfall?

“Y/N,” I whispered, leaning closer, needing to say her name again, to engrain it into my memory. “Breathe through your mouth. It’ll help.”

I lingered near her neck, unable to pull away, drawn by something I couldn’t quite name. I tried to find the words to describe her scent—something fresh, like the morning air spilling through an open window—but words failed me. I’d caught a hint of it earlier when I held her close at the sink, but now, in the confined space of the ER, it enveloped me, bringing back echoes of happier times.

Y/N smelled good—no, different. Refreshing, like the world waking up after a long sleep. And I was trapped in this moment, lost in the intoxicating blend of her presence and the sterile smell of antiseptic.

Every time she flinched, my instinct was to lash out at Doogie. I wanted to punch him for every wince that slipped from her lips, but I knew that wouldn’t help; it might just make things worse. I fought against the urge to ask the nurse for someone else to help her, terrified to leave her side. So I stayed, fingers entwined with hers, trying to offer some measure of comfort in the storm of uncertainty.

When Doogie finished and began to bandage her hand, I felt a wave of relief wash over me as she released her grip. I stepped back, taking a breath that felt heavy in my chest. Tension still coiled inside me; I hated that she’d gotten hurt, but a part of me marveled at her resilience. Despite her aversion to blood, she had held herself together with a strength I hadn’t given her credit for. There was more to Y/N than I realized, and that realization struck me hard.

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” I said once we were back in the car, the weight of guilt pressing down on me.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault I’m such a klutz.” She offered a radiant smile that twisted my insides with guilt all over again.

“So, what happened?” I asked tentatively, hoping against hope that this wasn’t really my fault.

“I was carrying a rack of test tubes when that thing started shooting vapor out. I freaked out. I thought it was going to explode! So I dropped the tubes and cut my hand trying to pick them up,” she admitted, embarrassment creeping into her voice as she stared down at her hands.

I should have known...

“Shit…” I thumped my head against the steering wheel, frustration bubbling up inside me.

“Hey, stop.” Her hand reached up to my shoulder, a gentle gesture that only deepened my self-loathing. “You couldn’t possibly have known that thing was going to start leaking, right?” I peeked at her, guilt etched on my face. She scrutinized me, her brow furrowing as realization dawned. “You did know, didn’t you?” Her hand dropped from my shoulder, and I felt the accusation hanging between us like a thick fog.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” I said earnestly, trying to convey the depth of my regret, how much I hated myself for her injury.

“You’re unbelievably cruel!” she shot back, eyebrows knitting together as she glared at me.

She was right, but I felt compelled to explain. “There wasn’t any risk of you getting hurt. The door just leaks a little vapor. I was going to close it after you got scared. It was a stupid joke, Y/N. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

“Well, excuse me for ruining your prank,” she snapped, rolling her eyes and turning away from me.

Sarcasm. Just lovely.

“I am truly sorry. Can you forgive me?” I asked, keeping my gaze on her even though she pointedly avoided me.

“Whatever, Yoongi.” She shrugged, irritation radiating from her as she stared out the window.

I wanted to tell her she was acting like a child, but I held my tongue, knowing that teasing her wouldn’t help my case. Instead, I focused on driving, ruminating on how to make this right again.

How the hell do I fix this?

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” I said to Y/N, trying to sound calm even though a knot twisted in my stomach as I parked in front of the research building.

“This is really not necessary, Yoongi. I’m fine,” she replied, brushing off my concern.

“Y/N, can you please, just for once, not contradict me?” I shot back, frustration bubbling under the surface.

“I never contradict you!” she protested, eyes wide in disbelief.

I fixed her with a glare until the tension between us shifted, and a small smile broke through her pout as I climbed out of the car. Maybe I was getting through to her, even just a little.

I dashed into the lab to grab her bag, but was abruptly halted when I spotted Jimin hunched over her bench. An urge to warn Y/N about the mess brewing in the autoclave room hit me hard. 

“Jimin?” I called, feeling an unusual tension in the air as he turned to me, eyes wide like I’d just spoken an alien dialect. We rarely exchanged more than necessary pleasantries. “There’s a big mess in the autoclave room. I’ll be right back to clean it up.”

“And you’re telling me this why?” he shot back, still looking as confused as a cat in a dog park.

“There’s a bunch of glass… I don’t know. My undergrad—she dropped the tubes. I—” The words tumbled out in a jumbled mess, and Jimin continued to stare at me like I’d just pulled a rabbit out of a hat. “Never mind,” I muttered, eager to escape the awkwardness.

“How’s that for a change? First, you have her doing your chores, and now you’re cleaning up after her,” he called after me.

I spun around to glare at him, irritation sparking. Sure, he was right, but I had bigger problems than petty lab gossip. I left him behind, shaking off the encounter.

When I climbed back into the car, Y/N was waiting for me, eyebrow raised, holding a CD case. My stomach dropped as I recognized it—my mom’s treasured Carpenters album.

“Really, Yoongi?” she asked, her smile widening. “The Carpenters? Okay, cool.” She casually tucked the CD case back into the glove box.

She was teasing me—smiling at me. That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe she had forgiven me after all.

I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on her face, how her smile lit up the whole car. It was stunning; how had I never noticed it before? A pang of regret hit me for all the moments I had let slip by.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to reality.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just—uh, how’s your living situation?” I mumbled as I started the car and drove off, reminding myself to keep it together. She’s just an undergrad, I thought, shaking off the flutter in my stomach.

As I parked in front of her building, my chest tightened again. I was still angry—mostly at myself—for letting her get hurt. I wouldn’t feel at ease until she was safely tucked inside her apartment.

“Are you still dizzy?” I asked, unable to hide the concern in my voice.

“I think I’m all right now,” she replied, a small grin dancing on her lips.

Would it be weird if I walked her to her door? Did guys still do that? It had been ages since I’d been on a date. What was the protocol these days?

What the hell am I thinking? This isn’t a date.

But she didn’t look a hundred percent. Maybe carrying her bag would help. I climbed out of the car, and she shot me a bewildered look as I opened her door.

“I’ll feel better once I know you’re safe inside,” I insisted, my voice firm.

“I’m fine. You don’t hav—”

“Please, humor me,” I interrupted.

Y/N hesitated, then took my hand as she stumbled out of the car. I grabbed her backpack, and we walked inside together, a strange sense of connection warming the air between us.

At her door, she paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. When she turned to look at me, her brown eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t quite pin down.

“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” I said, handing her the bag.

“Yes. Tuesday.” Her gaze flickered up through her long lashes, and I was momentarily mesmerized. “Not Monday.” A playful grin crept across her face, and I felt my breath catch at the sight of her eyes crinkling with delight. “You know why not Monday?”

I was still entranced by her smile and completely missed the point she was trying to make. “Because rainy days and Mondays always get me down,” she said, and heat rushed to my cheeks.

Great… she’s making fun of me.

I took a deep breath and snorted, forcing myself to look away from her lips. “You’re such a dork, Y/N. How long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Too long.” Her giggle sent my heart racing, a rhythm I couldn't ignore.

“Good night, Y/N,” I replied, managing a smile despite my racing heart.

As I walked back to my car, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window and was horrified to find myself grinning like a fool. I frowned and climbed inside, but before I could drive away, I pulled my mom’s CD from the glove box, popped it in, and began to hum along.

Why do birds suddenly appear… every time… you are near?

I slammed on the brakes and hit the eject button.

Holy shit, what the hell is wrong with me?

Thankfully, when I returned to the lab, Jimin was gone. I started cleaning up the autoclave room, picking up shards of glass and mopping away the blood from the floor. As I worked, I spotted Y/N’s lab coat next to the sink, and my heart sank. It didn’t look festive anymore; it resembled a tattered Halloween costume.

Shit… She loved that ridiculous thing, and now it was ruined.

Before I knew it, I found myself washing the lab coat. I tried everything, even bleach. When I was done, the blood stains had vanished, but so had the whimsical bacteria drawings she’d painstakingly decorated it with.

Fuck my life...

When Hoseok called, I told him the chances of me making it to Serena’s party were slim. “I’m stuck in the lab and still have a long way to go,” I said, leaving out the details of my time spent doodling on a lab coat that now looked like a toddler’s art project. I also didn’t mention that I was starting Y/N’s experiment along with my own.

After inspecting the now-ruined lab coat, I realized I couldn’t give it back to her. Tossing it felt wrong, though—I’d just spent hours on the damn thing. So, I wrapped it in a plastic bag and tucked it under my desk, trying to forget it existed.

I left the lab after two in the morning, exhausted but restless. My mind buzzed with thoughts, not about experiments this time, but about Y/N—how she had gotten hurt because of me, and yet she hadn’t unleashed her fury. Somehow, she felt bigger than this. Bigger than me.

God, I’ve been such an asshole.

Images of her haunted me throughout the night. The way she smiled at my lame jokes, how she laughed at my terrible rendition of “Every Breath You Take.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sung to someone, not since my mom had forced me to sing The Carpenters with her. I turned over in bed, a smile creeping onto my face at the memory.

I didn’t have to be a jerk to Y/N anymore. I didn’t want to be. It wasn’t her fault grad school was a pain. If anything, having her around made it bearable. Maybe I could lighten up a bit… or maybe we could both learn something from this. No, I wanted to be nicer to her. I wanted to see her smile.

I want to make her smile?

First The Carpenters, now this?

When did I turn into such a marshmallow?

Monday night in the dingy gym felt like a scene straight out of a bad movie. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh, sterile glow that did nothing to uplift the atmosphere. Hoseok and I were at the bench press, trading off sets like two battered soldiers in a war that would never be chronicled. I stood behind him, bracing for the weight, but my gaze was pulled away, caught in the orbit of something infinitely more captivating.

There she was—Y/N—effortlessly gliding on the treadmill like she was born to run. Her ponytail swung rhythmically with each stride, a pendulum marking the time as she jogged. My breath hitched, a tightening in my chest as I let my eyes wander down her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine. And then—oh God—those shorts. Tiny and black, they hugged her body in a way that made my heart race uncontrollably.

The fabric didn’t just cling; it cradled her curves, indenting just enough in the middle to draw the eye downwards. I could almost feel the heat radiating off her skin, my mind spiraling into places I really didn’t want it to go.

“Dude! Hold the bar, would ya?” Hoseok’s voice jolted me from my daze. I blinked hard, shaking off the spell as I refocused on the weights pressing down on him.

“Right, sorry,” I mumbled, fumbling with the bar as I lifted it off him.

Hoseok wiped the sweat from his brow, the glistening drops catching the unforgiving light. I tried desperately to keep my thoughts in check, to suppress the smirk that threatened to creep onto my face, but my eyes betrayed me, fixating once more on Y/N’s ass as it bounced with every determined step on the treadmill.

“What is it?” Hoseok shot me a sideways glance, amusement dancing in his eyes. He knew. Damn him. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

“Nothing,” I shot back, the word cracking like ice beneath my weight. I raked a hand through my hair, feeling more like a deer caught in headlights than a man. “That’s... um... that’s my undergrad.”

“Your undergrad?” He nearly shouted, and I winced at the volume.

“Shut up!” I hissed, heat creeping up my neck.

“She’s your undergrad?” He lowered his voice, his tone conspiratorial, as if we were discussing some top-secret mission.

“Yes,” I said, willing myself to tear my gaze from Y/N and muster some semblance of composure. “I don’t know why she’s here. This is the first time I’ve seen her in this gym.”

“Are you kidding?” Hoseok replied, incredulous. “She’s here all the time! You’ve just never noticed because you’re practically blind.”

My eyes darted back to her. She was still running, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing behind me. Could Hoseok really be right? Had I been so wrapped up in my own world that I hadn’t seen her before?

But then again, I didn’t recognize anyone else in this place. I came here every day—every damn day—and not one face looked familiar. Blind. I was completely blind.

And yet, here I was, rooted to the spot, entranced by the hypnotic sway of her hips, the way her legs flexed with each determined stride. It was as if she had cast a spell over me, one I didn’t want to break. But I had to; I was standing there like a moron, the weight of Hoseok’s gaze a smirk stretched across his face as he shifted to take his place on the bench.

“Yoongi!” he called, pulling me from my daydream. “It’s your turn.”

I shook my head as if waking up from a fog and stepped to the bench, but my mind remained tangled in thoughts of what I’d just seen. Y/N’s form, bouncing like it was teasing me, was too much. Too distracting. My body was responding in ways I hadn’t felt in years, and it took every ounce of willpower to focus on lifting weights instead of ogling her.

Then, as if she sensed my eyes on her, Y/N turned her head slightly, her gaze locking with mine. For a brief moment, the world melted away—the gym, the weight, the noise—all faded into the background as our eyes met. She faltered on the treadmill, her grip tightening on the bars like a lifeline before she recovered just in time.

What was I doing? I didn’t realize I was moving until I stood beside her, the tension thick enough to slice through the air.

“Hi,” I managed, the word slipping out like a confession.

“Hi?” Her smile lit up the stale space between us, brightening everything. “Who are you and what did you do to my bitter grad student?”

“What?” I stammered, disbelief knotting my stomach. “You’ve seen me here before?”

*Her eyes rolled in a way that was both exasperating and endearing. “Yes.”

“Well, I’m saying hi now. So, hi.”

“Hi…” she giggled, and I felt a low groan bubble up from my chest. What was happening? I hated how she made me feel, how she toppled everything I thought I had under control.

“How’s your hand?” I asked, grasping for something to anchor myself in this whirlwind of emotions.

“It’s fine,” she said, lifting her bandaged hand like it was a trophy. But I was lost, mesmerized by the way her lips moved, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, and how the sweat glistened on her skin.

I needed to leave before my body betrayed me further. “Um, I should go,” I interrupted, offering a shaky goodbye as I fled, a whirlwind of confusion and unwanted desire crashing over me.

What the hell was happening to me?

I ran home, my legs pumping, heart racing, trying to outrun the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind. It had been four years since Estelle, and the memory felt as distant as a long-forgotten dream. But Y/N was everywhere now, invading my thoughts—her freckles, her laugh, those bangs that had once annoyed me but now framed her face like a masterpiece.

I stormed through my apartment, shedding my sweat-soaked clothes, bewildered by this tempest of feelings. I couldn’t fathom why it had taken me so long to notice her, why she had pierced through the fog of my indifference and settled in my mind like an unwelcome guest.

In the shower, the warm water cascaded over me, soothing yet insufficient to wash away the turmoil. She was a kid, for Christ’s sake! Nineteen? Twenty? Too young, too innocent for someone like me. I banged my head against the tiled wall, cursing my own weakness.

And yet, even as I stood there, I could feel her presence lingering, like a ghost clinging to the edges of my consciousness—a haunting I couldn’t shake. Was I becoming one of those men who pursued young girls, crossing lines drawn in the sand, sliding down that slippery slope of desire? The universe had a wicked sense of humor.

God, I hoped I wouldn’t see her again at the gym. The very thought sent a chill down my spine—a mix of longing and guilt. But there I was, fantasizing about her hands instead of my own.

When did I become such a creep?

I’m in a foul mood. Not a glimmer of sunshine inside me, just the dense fog of irritability that seems to thicken the air around me. Maybe it’s the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders, or maybe it’s just Tuesday. Either way, I know I’ll probably regret having lunch with Hoseok today, but deep down, I’m still holding onto the hope that, by some miracle, he didn’t notice my bizarre behavior at the gym last night.

As I step into the lunchroom, Hoseok’s voice slices through the stillness. “What the heck happened to you yesterday?”

Well, so much for miracles.

“Nothing. Why?” I try to sound casual as I toss my food into the microwave, but my heart races in protest.

“Nothing? You nearly killed me, bolted off to talk to Y/N, and then stormed out. That seems normal to you?” He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin stretching across his face.

I shrug, feigning indifference, but my stomach twists.

“We were supposed to have drinks with Serena and her friend with the—” he gestures dramatically, “the big personality.”

“Listen, you and Serena need to stop setting me up with her friends.”

“Why? Did you take a vow of celibacy or something?”

“I’m just not in the mood for this today, Hoseok.” I plop down in a chair, my food forgotten.

“Is it because of Y/N?” he asks, cheeks bulging with half-chewed food.

“No,” I reply, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “And her name is Y/N, by the way.”

“OH. MY. GOSH. It is! You’re totally crushing on her!” Hoseok leaps from his chair, fork aimed at me like a weapon. His eyes widen as if he’s just uncovered a major conspiracy.

“What? NO!”

“Dude, you remembered her name!” He plops back down beside me, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Hoseok, what does that—”

“Oh man. This is too good... like, really, really good.” His grin is the kind that makes me want to punch him—or maybe just smack some sense into him.

“Hoseok, please. Just for one day…” I rub my forehead, trying to ease the confusion tightening my temples. The last thing I need is Hoseok’s theories swirling around my mind like a chaotic storm.

“Okay, okay…” He continues to chew, stealing glances at me every few seconds. “So, when’s Yoonji coming?” he asks, smirking, and I shoot him a glare that could curdle milk.

So what if I remembered her name? It hardly means anything. I’ve been working with her for weeks now. I’m not some clueless idiot; I can remember a name. I don’t care what Hoseok or Yoonji think. This is nothing. This doesn’t mean anything.

Except it does. Because Y/N, not “the girl” or “the undergrad,” is going to be in the lab when I return. And I’m not just aware of it—I’m looking forward to it. I want to see her smile, to hear her laugh.

I want to hear her giggle? Jesus, I need to get a grip on myself.

My bad mood evaporates the moment I spot Y/N at my bench, scribbling away in her notepad. Her hair cascades over her shoulder, wild and free. It should bother me—should send alarm bells ringing—but it doesn’t. It looks soft and inviting, and suddenly, all I want is to run my fingers through it.

Okay… I’ve really lost it now.

And just like that, my bad mood crashes back in.

“I can’t find my lab coat,” she says, tying her hair up with an intensity that almost makes me envious.

I feel a spark of irritation at the safety rules that dictate her hair must be tied back. I find myself imagining the kinds of experiments that would allow her to leave it down, just so I could watch it flow freely.

“Do you know where it could be?” she asks, glancing up at me.

I’ve completely lost track of her words, staring at her blankly.

“My lab coat?” she repeats, tilting her head.

Right… the lab coat.

“Let me get you a new one. That one was all covered in blood.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll wash it.”

“We have lab coats here, Y/N—new ones. I’ll get you one,” I say, moving past her, determination pushing me forward.

She stops me, grabbing my elbow. “Please, can I have my old one back?” Her eyes are wide and earnest, as if I hold the key to some sacred treasure.

A flush of embarrassment rises in me, and instead of confessing, I lie. “I threw it away.”

“What? Why?” Her gaze pierces through my flimsy excuse.

“It was covered in blood!” I bark, frustration bubbling over.

“I could have washed it!” she snaps, defiance igniting her eyes.

“I’m getting you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one. Is this some cruel joke? Because if it is, I’d really, really like my lab coat back. It means a lot to me.” The shift in her expression from anger to sadness tugs at something deep within me. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, like I’ve just crushed her puppy.

Realization washes over me like a cold wave: I’m making her cry. With a deep sigh, I relent. “Okay, I didn’t get rid of it.”

“Oh thank God,” she breathes, closing her eyes in relief.

“But… I tried to wash it, and the bloodstains wouldn’t come out. I thought it would be a good idea to use bleach. And it was. I mean, it got rid of the bloodstains, but it also erased your drawings.”

“Oh no…” Her eyes fly open, panic etching her features.

“I’m sorry. Can I please get you a new one?” I plead, hoping to smooth over this disaster before it spirals further.

“I would really prefer to have my old one back,” she insists, crossing her arms defiantly, her gaze unwavering.

Jesus! Why does she have to be so difficult?

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I groan. She’s staring at me like she’s just won the lottery, and I can’t bring myself to back down. “Fine…” I reach under my desk for the bag containing her lab coat and hand it over, feeling like I’m offering her a corpse.

I should have burned the damn thing.

Her gasp as she pulls the coat from the bag makes my stomach drop.

“Oh my gosh!” She turns it around, inspecting the shapes I drew in a moment of misguided creativity. When she spots my pathetic attempt at rewriting “Bacteria Rule” on the back, she giggles, and I swear my heart stumbles.

How do I keep up with her?

One minute, she’s annoyed; the next, she’s crying; now, she’s laughing. It’s like watching a storm change directions on a whim.

“You… did you do this?” She glances up at me, her eyelashes still damp, and my chest tightens painfully.

“Yeah, it looks even more ridiculous now. Didn’t think that was possible. Would you please let me get you a new one?”

“Oh no. I’m wearing this one,” she chirps, slipping her arms into the sleeves like she’s donning a crown.

“Please say you’re kidding.”

“What? It’s perfect!” she beams, buttoning the coat closed, that radiant smile piercing through my irritation.

Even as she parades around in that god-awful coat, all I can think about is pulling her close and kissing her senseless. It’s ridiculous and utterly baffling, but I can’t shake it.

I really must have lost it now.

The morning air felt heavy, thick with a strange malaise that weighed on me like a thick blanket. "So, what's on the agenda for today, Boss?" Y/N chirped, her pen clicking in a cheerful rhythm as she flipped open her notebook, the sound almost irritatingly upbeat.

"Don’t call me Boss," I grumbled, trying to shake off the oppressive darkness that seemed to cling to me like damp fog.

"Okay, Grumpy. What are we doing today?" Her smile was a bright spark against the backdrop of my brooding mood.

I could tell she was trying to be funny, deliberately poking at my irritation. With an exasperated huff, I shoved the list of activities at her. "Try not to mess up this time, Becca."

She took the list with a theatrical pout, and I stifled a real smile beneath my carefully crafted mask of indifference—a skill I'd perfected over the years. 

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the list. "I thought I was starting from scratch."

"You are," I replied, trying to keep my tone as casual as possible.

"But you did all these steps already." She pointed to the initial tasks, her voice laced with disbelief.

"I was bored Saturday," I said, as if boredom were an acceptable excuse for taking the initiative.

Her eyes darted between the list and mine, a spark of awe lighting up her face. "You started my experiment for me?"

The way she looked at me made my skin crawl—a mixture of discomfort and something warmer I didn’t want to acknowledge. I clamped down on my tongue, suppressing the urge to explain myself. 

"You better get cracking, Y/L/N. There's a seminar at four I want to attend."

Her gaze lingered on me a moment longer before she shook it off, returning to her notebook. A sense of relief washed over me. 

We worked in silence, but I could feel her stealing glances at me like a kid peeking into a haunted house. I knew—I just knew—I had crossed some invisible line. What I felt was tangled, a confusion I was desperate to untangle.

"What’s the seminar about?" she asked, her voice light with curiosity as we carried bottles of growth media to the incubators.

"I don’t know," I said, holding the door for her as we entered the incubator room.

"Then why are you going?" She squatted to stow the bottles inside, her dark hair falling around her face like a curtain.

"Free food." I shrugged, trying to sound indifferent.

"Seriously?" She looked up at me, disbelief written all over her features.

"Y/N… if you go to grad school, you’ll learn to appreciate the majesty of free food."

When she stood up, she released my hand with a huff, her pride surfacing. "When I go to grad school, I’ll enjoy the seminars, even without the free food."

"Right…" I turned away, shaking my head.

"So, can I come?" she asked shyly, her voice nearly drowned out by the hum of the incubators.

"You want to come to the seminar?" I shot her a skeptical glance.

"Hells to the yeah!" 

I suppressed a snort, the surprise of her enthusiasm bubbling up inside me. "Why?"

"I might learn something."

"Okay, you can come, but the la-la-lab coat stays." 

The thought of her actually being excited about attending a seminar with me sent a strange thrill through my chest, one that both excited and unnerved me.

As we made our way to the seminar, Y/N rattled on about her dreams for grad school, her voice bubbling over with energy. I struggled to interject, her words flowing like a vibrant stream, full of life.

When we reached the seminar room, she shook her head at my heaping plate of food. I settled into my seat, grateful for the chance to hide from the annoyed glances of the people behind us. Y/N plopped down beside me, her nervous energy radiating from her.

"That one with the sweater vest is Prof. Waylon," I said, nodding toward him. "He has a serious case of narcolepsy. Snores through the entire talk but wakes up right on cue to ask the hardest questions."

She giggled, and the sound pierced through the fog that had settled around me.

"And over there, with the red bow tie, is Dr. Amun-Kebi. Brilliant but completely bonkers—he discovered Quorum Sensing, yet can’t make eye contact because he’s too busy staring at the ceiling."

She snorted, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth, her joy infectious.

"Then there’s Jin," I continued, "who dresses like he’s going to a board meeting every day. Knows more adjectives than a thesaurus, but his favorite is definitely 'fascinating.'"

I mimicked Jin’s exaggerated tone, and Y/N laughed again, drawing some disapproving throat-clearing from the folks behind us.

"Main point is, Y/N," I said, "science makes you lose your mind. You’ve been warned."

"Oh, I think I can handle it," she replied, winking at me, and my heart twisted painfully in my chest.

As the speaker began, I couldn't help but chuckle when I noticed her furiously scribbling notes as if her life depended on it.

Once the seminar ended, we returned to the lab. Y/N still had work to catch up on after being away for an hour. I’d finished my tasks long ago, but I lingered, a shadow in the corner, unwilling to leave her alone in this sterile, fluorescent-lit space.

She closed her notebook with a satisfying smack and turned to me, her eyes bright. "This is so exciting! I can’t wait to see if it works this time."

"Yeah, you’ll get over it," I said, trying to keep my tone light.

"Have you always been such a grump? Or was there a time when you actually liked what you do?"

Her question hit me like a punch to the gut, catching me off guard. I could feel her gaze piercing through my defenses.

"I like what I do."

"Do you love it?"

Her question hung in the air like a dark cloud, and I found myself lost in a maze of memories, the joy of discovery overshadowed by the weight of expectations. Had there ever been a time when I shared her enthusiasm?

"I don’t really remember," I mumbled, avoiding the truth. "It’s getting late, Y/N. How are you getting home?"

"I’m walking."

"I’m walking too. Let’s go."

Did I used to love what I did? The memory felt elusive, slipping through my fingers like water.

As we walked, Y/N asked, "Why did you decide to go to grad school?"

"Why does anyone?" I shot back, a cryptic smirk teasing my lips.

"To make a difference? To revolutionize the field?"

"Very cute, Y/N."

"It’s not cute. It’s true."

"Is that why you want to go to grad school?"

"Yes. I’ve always wanted to help people. Since medical school is out of the question for me—"

"You’ll get over the smell of blood, Y/N."

"It’s not just that. I get too attached. I’d rather contribute silently from the lab." She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Plus, where would medicine be without science? They’d still be pouring hot oil into wounds!"

I chuckled, a genuine laugh bubbling up like warmth breaking through winter’s chill. "You’re funny." The words slipped out before I could think better of it, and before I could process my thoughts, my fingers brushed against her arm, lingering over the fabric of her hoodie.

She halted, her cheeks tinged pink, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

I froze, my hand dropping to my side, panic racing through me. That had to be inappropriate.

"I’ve been called worse," she joked, her smile radiating a warmth that sent shivers down my spine.

We walked on in silence until we reached her building.

"Do you live on campus too?" she asked, fishing for her keys from her bag.

"No. I live in Portage Bay."

"Oh… we passed that already."

"I know."

Suspicion flared in her gaze as she pieced things together, and I felt the weight of my own guilt creeping up on me. She would realize I was that gross old grad student trying to woo the sweet, naive undergrad—the very person I had mocked in others. The thought made my stomach churn.

"I know what you’re doing," she accused, crossing her arms defensively.

Here it comes…

"You feel guilty because I got hurt," she said, her voice steady. "You feel responsible. But you don’t have to do this."

Is that really what she thought?

"You think I’m walking you home out of guilt?" My voice was harsher than I intended, anger bubbling up inside me.

"I know you are."

"You don’t know anything," I spat, turning away, desperate to escape the rising tide of emotions threatening to drown me.

"Yoongi, wait!" she called after me, dread washing over me.

Keep walking… don’t look back.

I couldn’t believe she thought I was being nice out of guilt. I had done nothing but act like a jerk for too long, and now I was about to lose the only flicker of light stupid, lonely world.

God, she had no clue.

Wednesday morning felt heavy with an unsettling quiet when Y/N arrived at the lab a little earlier than usual. I was already there, lurking like a shadow in the corner, unable to shake off the ghosts of a sleepless night. I busied myself with the equipment, clinging to the hope that keeping my distance would somehow quell the anger simmering beneath my skin.

It was confusing, really. I was furious with her—not just because of the injury that haunted my thoughts like a ghost, but because she had twisted my kindness into something it wasn’t. Sure, I felt like a hollow shell, the guilt gnawing at my insides like a rat in a rotting wall, but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy walking her home. Yesterday’s seminar had been a strange kind of fun—the first I’d experienced in what felt like ages.

As I returned to the lab, pretending to check something in my desk drawer, I caught her gaze from across the bench. The way her eyes followed me stirred something deep inside, a mix of frustration and longing I couldn’t quite place. I tried to slip away, but as I turned to leave, her fingers brushed against my elbow.

“Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said, her voice soft and sincere, those puppy-dog eyes piercing through my defenses. Warmth rushed through me, a strange blend of emotions swirling inside. “It was really nice of you to walk with me. Thank you.”

With a timid smile, she released my arm, leaving me reeling, torn between the urge to pull her back and the need to retreat. Just then, I caught sight of Jimin, his piercing blue eyes wide with suspicion from the shadows of the lab. What the hell?

“You’re welcome,” I muttered dryly to Y/N, my voice almost a growl, before storming away, seeking refuge from the chaos in my head.

In the media preparation room, I paced like a caged animal, cracking my knuckles repeatedly to chase away the madness. This was absurd. I was losing it over a girl—an undergrad—who seemed blissfully unaware of the tempest she stirred within me. Deep breaths. Focus. But I knew this strange obsession wasn’t going anywhere.

When I returned to the lab, I found Jungkook leaning casually against my bench, chatting with Y/N. She wore that timid smile again, twisting something inside me. My hands curled into fists, rage and jealousy flaring up like a wildfire.

“I’ll see you Friday,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin as he sauntered past me. Did he just ask her out? The urge to grab him by the ponytail and shove him to the floor was overwhelming. “What did he want?” I spat, unable to contain the fury boiling within.

“Nothing,” she replied innocently, her attention flitting back to her notebook as if she hadn’t just tossed gasoline on my fire.

“Y/N,” I hissed, slicing through the air with my words, demanding her attention. “What did he want?”

“Nothing important,” she clarified, but her eyes locked onto mine, searching. My resolve wavered. What the hell was wrong with me? The desire to pummel Jungkook quickly transformed into an intense longing to press my lips against that bottom lip she kept biting. The confusion swirled around us, thick and suffocating, and I felt trapped.

Just then, Jimin reentered the lab, breaking the spell that had ensnared us. I stepped back, the tension snapping like a brittle twig, and Y/N sighed, disappointment heavy in the air.

“Are you done?” I asked, my voice cold, each word laced with the weight of my internal turmoil. “I need to use the bench.”

Hurt flickered in her eyes before she masked it, and guilt settled in my stomach like a stone. I tried to focus on my work, but her presence lingered, a distraction gnawing at my concentration until she finally left for the day. This is ridiculous! Why did she affect me so much? I couldn’t keep living like this.

Thursday afternoon arrived, and I maneuvered around Y/N like a ghost. I didn’t want to be a jerk, but the thought of her and Jungkook had me seething. It felt like every nerve in my body was on fire, irritation coiling tighter with every passing second. I tried to stick to succinct answers and instructions, but the tension thickened around us like fog.

As we received her sequencing results, I could no longer pretend she didn’t exist. She pulled a chair next to me at my desk, her presence suffocatingly close. My fingers twitched on the mouse, nerves sparking as I avoided glancing her way. She tapped her pen rhythmically; each tap a countdown to my sanity.

“Please, stop that,” I groaned, frustration spilling over.

She halted instantly, a sigh escaping her lips, and my heart sank. I hated feeling this way—trapped between annoyance and an attraction that sent shivers down my spine. How was that even possible?

Finally, the software loaded, and I opened her file. Y/N gasped, and I held my breath as she leaned closer, the tension between us palpable.

“Sample 1. Ran well. Sample 2. Ran well… ran well, ran well, ran well…” All fifty samples had run flawlessly. Impressive. I couldn’t recall a time when every single sequencing reaction had succeeded; there was always a failure or two. Y/N was undeniably skilled.

As I turned to her, a smile crept onto my lips despite myself. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and before I could process it, she squeaked, throwing her arms around my neck. Her warmth enveloped me, her hair brushing against my face, and the world narrowed to just her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating. My body responded in ways I couldn’t understand.

I shot up from my chair, breaking the spell. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her cheeks a deep crimson, laughter spilling from her lips. “I’m just so happy! They all worked!”

My heart raced, shock coursing through me as I struggled to regain composure. The pull I felt toward her was almost unbearable, thrumming like an electric wire, demanding release.

“Good job,” I managed, forcing my voice to remain steady. But as she smiled at me, her joy tearing through my carefully constructed barriers, I knew I was in deep trouble. I wanted to hold her again, to kiss her until the world faded away. God, I needed help.

As I turned to her, a smile crept onto my lips despite myself. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and before I could process it, she squeaked, throwing her arms around my neck, her warmth enveloping me, her hair brushing against my face. The world narrowed to just her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating, my body responding in ways I couldn’t understand. 

God, I needed help.

You know those days when nothing seems to go right? When you drag yourself out of bed, and it feels like the universe is playing tricks on you, pushing you back with every step forward? Yeah, today is one of those days. A downright miserable Friday, and I can’t help but feel that the promise of the weekend is just a hollow consolation.

This morning was a disaster. I tossed and turned all night, haunted by thoughts of Y/N. Her smile flickered in my mind like a candle caught in the wind—warm and inviting one moment, then snuffed out the next. The irony is, while I’m relieved I won’t have to face her today, the gnawing uncertainty of whether she’s out with Jungkook weighs heavily in my stomach. Anger simmers beneath my skin, bubbling over in waves I can’t seem to control.

As I step into the lunchroom, the emptiness greets me, broken only by the taunting hum of the microwave. I slam my fist against its cold metal side, frustrated when it refuses to cooperate. It beeps at me, a cruel mockery in the sterile silence. I slam the door shut again, and my temper flares.

“What did the microwave do to you?” A familiar voice cuts through my frustration. It’s Hoseok, ever the jester, his amusement practically radiating off him.

“It’s broken,” I mutter, fingers still mashing buttons like a madman.

“Step away from the microwave,” he orders, a playful yet firm tone in his voice. In two quick moves, he’s heating up my food. “What’s up your ass?”

“Nothing,” I groan, flopping down in a chair with a defeated sigh. “Just one of those days.”

“Why?” 

“It’s just one of those days…” I can’t muster the energy to say more.

“Like, ‘Everything’s messed up and everyone sucks’?” He turns his baseball cap backward, bobbing his head as if ready to launch into a nu-metal anthem.

“Great, Hoseok. Quote Limp Bizkit. That’s really going to help.” I cut him off before he can get into full swing.

“Dude, you’re in a mood. What happened?” His eyes reflect genuine concern as he rummages through the fridge.

“Nothing,” I insist, rising to retrieve my Tupperware.

“Bullshit. I’ve known you for four years. This isn’t just a failed PCR kind of mood.” He crosses his arms, blocking my path.

Part of me wants to spill my guts, but the words feel lodged in my throat. Still, they tumble out. “If I tell you, can you at least try to be mature about it?”

“Mature is my middle name,” he grins, but I can’t help but scowl.

“Fine. It’s Y/N.”

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

I bury my face in my hands, feeling the weight of his excitement pressing down on me. “What happened?” he whispers, leaning in, all ears.

“She’s... I don’t know.”

“Come on, man. I’m serious.”

“Yeah, she’s out with Jungkook.”

“Jungkook?” Hoseok’s voice rises as if he’s just spotted a raccoon in the hall.

“Jesus, Hoseok!” I hiss. “Keep it down!”

“Sorry.” His whisper is tinged with amusement. “Jungkook fucking Jeon?”

“Yes.” I take a deep breath, frustration bubbling over. “And she’s my undergrad.”

“Puh-lease. Who cares?” 

“I’m at least five years older than her,” I retort.

“The younger, the better.” He waggles his eyebrows, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“Disgusting.”

“Stop brooding, dude. Jeon’s got nothing on you. Go get your girl. She’s fine, and she was always checking you out at the gym—like I told you a thousand times.”

Y/N checking me out? No way. Hoseok’s just being delusional. I shake my head, dismissing his words. This fixation has to end. She’s just my undergrad. That’s all she’ll ever be—at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Happy Hour. The name is ironic, a pathetic excuse for mingling—if you can even call it that. It never lasts an hour, and “happy” is a stretch, but hey, there’s free beer, so here I am. Alone in the corner, I down red cups like they might wash away the grime of the day. By the time Hoseok and Serena finally stroll in, I’ve polished off four.

“You’re here before us. That’s weird,” Serena quips as they approach.

“Thanks for the observation, Captain Obvious.” 

“What’s his problem?” Serena glares at Hoseok, arms crossed.

“He’s in a mood,” Hoseok replies, handing me another red cup that I chug.

“Why?” Her tone is whiny, as if I owe her an explanation.

“Lady problems,” Hoseok shoots back before I can stop him.

“Yoongi has lady problems?” Serena sounds incredulous, as if she’s just discovered a new planet.

“I’m standing right here!” My voice is louder than I intended, laced with irritation.

“So you like a girl, Yoongi. Not the end of the world. I mean, this self-imposed celibacy was bound to end someday. I just wish I knew who she is.” She twists the conversation back to herself, as always.

“It’s not just a girl. It’s his undergrad,” Hoseok interjects, unable to contain his enthusiasm.

“You old perv!” Serena playfully smacks my chest, and I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks.

“I’m going to get fired,” I murmur, tipping my cup back for the last drops of liquid courage.

“No, you won’t, drama queen.” She dismisses me with a wave, annoyance radiating off her.

“It happens all the time! PIs hit on post-docs, post-docs on grad students, grads on undergrads. What world do you live in?”

“It’s like a jungle,” Hoseok chuckles.

“Shut up, Hoseok,” Serena snaps. “Good news is, now that there’s this girl, you can stop with the emo bitterness. It’s getting old.”

“Fuck you, Serena.”

“Hey, hey now,” Hoseok says, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go get another round.”

When we return, my anger toward Serena simmers just beneath the surface, but I’m too tipsy to think straight. “For your information, Serena, this girl has a name. Her name is Becca. No, wait... it’s Y/N! Dammit!” My palm meets my forehead in a facepalm of pure embarrassment.

“Wow. She must be something special, Yoongi. You don’t even know her name.”

“Baby, stop. He’s drunk, and he’s having a shitty day.”

“Why?” 

“Y/N is out with Jungkook,” Hoseok explains.

“Jeon?” Serena’s expression shifts to one of shock, and they dive into speculation, completely oblivious to my presence.

I shut them out, groaning into my cup as I gulp it down. It’s true. I know it. Jungkook is with Y/N tonight, probably taking her to dinner and drinks, sharing laughs while I’m stuck here. My mind spirals into a dark abyss—what if he kisses her? What if she invites him in? God, I’m sick just thinking about it.

Of all the undergrads in this department, Jungkook Jeon had to go after mine. I hope Y/N gets drunk and spills her drink all over him.

Worst. Hangover. Ever.

Well, maybe not the worst, but it’s definitely up there. My head pounds like a jackhammer, and my stomach feels like a chaotic whirlpool of regret as I stumble into the shower. The hot water cascades over me, a fleeting relief, but all I can think about is how tempting sleep sounds right now. But I have things to do in the lab. Don’t I always?

The apartment is a total disaster zone—a messy tribute to last night’s antics. Red cups are scattered across the coffee table like the remnants of a forgotten battle, and chip crumbs litter the floor like confetti from a party that had long overstayed its welcome. Hoseok and Serena wouldn’t leave me alone last night, terrified I’d do something reckless, so we ended up bringing Happy Hour back to my place. I was just the third wheel, watching them get lost in their own world of laughter and flirting. By the time I woke up on the couch, blanketed by a pile of crumpled chips, they were long gone.

I shuffle into the library, desperate for my usual caffeine fix on the way to the lab, but my stomach is rebelling. Still, I know I’ll need that coffee to survive the day.

Inside, the library feels like a claustrophobic hive of undergrads buzzing around like over-caffeinated bees. It’s overwhelming.

What a nightmare!

I hurry to the coffee line, pouring sugar into my mug like it’s a lifeline. Just as I catch my breath, I spot her—Y/N—sitting at a table surrounded by a fortress of books. Her hair falls like a curtain, hiding her face from view. I can’t help myself; I’m drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

“Hello, Y/N,” I say, sliding into the chair across from her.

She looks up, surprise flickering across her features, and for a moment, my heart races. 

“Oh, so I’m back to being Y/N?” There’s no hint of humor in her voice, only seriousness, and it feels like a punch to the gut.

What’s going on? Where’s the smile that usually lights up her face?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light as I settle in.

“What are you doing here?” she replies, her gaze cool and collected.

“Y/N, please go easy on me today. I’m not feeling great,” I admit, running a hand down my face, feeling every ache from the night before.

“Oh... what’s wrong?” Her stoic facade starts to crumble, replaced by genuine concern, and it warms me a bit.

“Too much beer,” I confess, and the word makes my stomach churn at the memory of my poor choices.

“I see... does that explain this?” She pulls out her phone and turns it toward me.

Grumpy: Becca, you’ve just revealed yourself to have absolutely no taste.

“Who the hell is Grumpy, and why does he call you Becca?” I blurt out, anger bubbling up before I can stop it.

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “You’re the only Grumpy I know.”

“Are you saying I sent you that text?” 

“Yes,” she says, sighing as her eyes drift away like leaves in the wind.

I pull my phone from my pocket, my heart sinking as I check my sent texts.

Well, great…

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes, wishing I could take back last night’s mistakes.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean either. No taste in what? Music? Food? Men?” 

“Men?” I let out a dry laugh. “Jungkook is not a man. He’s a tool.”

“So this is about Jungkook?” she says, gesturing to her phone.

“Yes.” My brain feels sluggish, like I’m moving through molasses.

“Why do you care?” 

“I’m uncomfortable with you dating my classmate,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to appear nonchalant.

“He’s not your classmate, and we’re not dating.”

“We both started our PhDs at the same time in the same program. That makes him my classmate… Wait… you’re not dating?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. We went out for coffee, talked, he asked me out again, and I kindly declined. I’m focused on my studies right now, Yoongi, and I really don’t have room for anything more.”

“Oh…” Relief floods through me, even as my hangover rages on. I might even be smiling.

“Yes, oh indeed. Which brings me back to why you’re sitting here distracting me from my study session.”

“What are you studying?” I ask softly, a smile creeping onto my face, hoping to steer the conversation away from Jungkook.

“I have an organic chemistry exam on Monday.”

“Oh, I see…” I hesitate, but the temptation of spending time with her outweighs my growing pile of work in the lab. “Well, it might just be your lucky day, Y/L/N, because I happen to be an expert in all things organic chemistry.”

“You are?” Her lips curl into a small grin, and I feel a surge of relief wash over me. She’s back.

“I am…” I smile at her. “So, do you want some help?”

“I could use some help.”

Help… yeah… that’s what I’m here for… help.

For the next two hours, I guide Y/N through her organic reaction problem sets, all while ignoring my cooling coffee. She’s a quick study, soaking up the information, and I’m confident she’ll ace her test on Monday.

I keep my hands clasped between my knees—except when I need to draw reactions for her—wanting to hide how my fingers twitch every time she brushes her hair behind her ear.

Y/N is focused on her notebook, but the third time I yawn, she looks up at me.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Tell me about it… On average, I get about four hours a night.”

“Four hours? If I don’t get at least six, I get grumpy.”

“Grumpier than this?” she says, waving a hand at me, a smile teasing at her lips.

“This,” I gesture to my chest, “this is the five-hours-of-sleep me.” I stretch, feeling my muscles pull, and I notice her eyes trace down my torso before I quickly pull my shirt down.

Was Y/N checking me out?

“Anyway…” I scramble for a distraction. “It’s healthy to sleep eight hours. I’m all about being healthy.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re an old man.”

“Hey… I’m only twenty-five!”

She laughs, and before I can ask how old she is, her gaze shifts behind me, and I can sense her tension.

“Shit…” she whispers.

“What?”

“Remember that guy I told you about, Jonah Rodgers, the stalker?” Her voice drops to a near whisper, laced with panic.

I wrack my brain, trying to recall. Y/N had a stalker? She looks at me, and it’s clear she knows I’m lost.

“Just play along, please,” she whispers, scooting her chair closer to me. Her hand brushes my knee, and I’m startled by the tentative touch.

A vague memory flickers in my mind—her acting strange around me one day, but it’s obscured by the haze of regret and longing.

Y/N’s gaze is intense, making it hard to focus on anything else. She smiles shyly, then looks down before peeking at me through her thick lashes.

God, what is she doing to me?

I know she’s faking it, pretending for someone else—but I can’t help how my body reacts, how hyper-aware I am of her presence. My hand moves to her cheek, my thumb tracing her soft skin. She blushes, biting her lip, and it sends a jolt through me, a deep ache to pull her closer—bring her lips to mine.

Her hand slides from my knee, brushing my thigh, and I can feel a warmth stirring inside me.

This isn’t real… it can’t be.

She’s still staring at me, and I’m lost in her gaze, wondering what she’s thinking, if she feels it too.

But then, all too soon, her attention darts behind me again.

“He’s gone,” she breathes, relief washing over her. Her hand rubs my thigh one last time before she withdraws. “Thank you.”

I know I should let go, but I can’t. My hand remains on her face, my thumb tracing her cheek while my fingers tangle in the nape of her neck. Her expression shifts, confusion knitting her brow. She reaches for my hand, her fingers enveloping my wrist—her thumb brushing the top of my hand, once, twice—and then she smiles.

But she’s not looking at me seductively anymore. She’s looking at me like she doesn’t understand why I haven’t let go. And honestly? Neither do I.

I drop my hand from her face and stand abruptly.

“I better get to the lab,” I say, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “Good luck on your test.” Her eyes linger on me, confusion clouding her expression as I turn to leave.

I guess the show is over…

I spent the rest of the weekend in the lab, mostly because I had nothing better to do. It felt easier to throw myself into my work than to face the nagging thoughts of Y/N swirling around in my head. Pining after her felt wrong—she was just a kid, my intern, and whatever was brewing inside me needed to stop. I had to keep my distance.

When Y/N walked in on Tuesday, she looked a bit worn out. I wanted to ask her about the test, but I bit my tongue, forcing myself to act indifferent.

As the day wound down, she asked for my help, and I followed her into the dark room. She needed to cut different bands from an agarose gel to purify the DNA. Even though she knew how to use the UV light box, I guided her through the excising process.

Once inside the dimly lit room, Y/N flipped on the UV box and switched off the lights. I stood behind her, watching as her shaky hand hovered nervously over the gel, clutching the blade. 

"I think it’s safe to say that not going to medical school was the right choice for you," I teased, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension. "With those shaky hands, I wouldn't want you holding a scalpel near me."

"I had too much coffee today," she shot back, her tone sharp but playful.

"Right," I snorted, a grin breaking free.

"Shut up. You're making me nervous." I could almost hear her smile through her words.

"Here," I said, inching closer. I covered her hand with mine, steadying her fingers over the blade. "Relax," I suggested, hoping it would ease both our nerves.

Her proximity felt electric, as if the air around us vibrated with tension. The scent of her hair—fresh and unplaceable—danced under my nose, making my heart race. Y/N's hand trembled beneath mine as she turned to glance up at me. In the faint blue glow of the UV light, her features looked even more striking. 

"This is making it worse," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

I felt her warm breath against my neck, and everything inside me screamed that we were too close. I should step back. I needed to step back. But God, I wanted to kiss her. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

Her bewildered expression shifted as her eyes drifted from my gaze to my lips. My heart thundered in my chest as I watched her tongue trace the edge of her bottom lip before she began to nibble on it nervously.

Then, without thinking, I closed the distance and pressed my lips against hers.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, intoxicated by her sweet scent as my mouth enveloped her bottom lip. Y/N whimpered softly against me, turning her body to face mine. My hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

What was I doing?

I felt lost, unsure of how to proceed or how to stop. Reluctantly, I released her neck and gripped the bench for support, struggling against the rising tide of desire. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around her and pull her onto the counter, to lose myself in her warmth.

No, stop! This is wrong!

I broke the kiss, panting heavily. "Y/N…" I gasped. "Shit, I'm so sorry." I stepped back, needing space. She was breathing hard too. "I-I didn’t mean to do that. I shouldn’t have… Shit." My hands raked through my hair, searching for words that eluded me.

Then, with a single determined step, Y/N closed the distance. She grabbed my t-shirt and pulled me down to her level. Her lips collided with mine once more, and I felt her inhale sharply.

I was too tall, or she was too short; either way, I hunched over her as her legs wrapped around my hips, lifting her onto the countertop beside the UV box.

Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging in a way that made me groan into her mouth, while my own hands hovered uncertainly over her body, torn between desire and restraint.

Loud, insistent knocking on the door shattered the moment.

Y/N gasped, and her legs slipped from my sides. 

"I need to look at a gel, Yoongi. What’s taking so long?" Jimin's voice rang out.

Jimin… shit…

I groaned against Y/N's shoulder, gripping her thighs to steady myself. Her fingers remained tangled in my hair, and I felt dangerously close to losing it.

"We're cutting a gel, Jimin," I called out, taking a reluctant step away from Y/N. "Give me a fucking break," I muttered under my breath.

I heard Jimin huff through the door, and Y/N’s voice came low and tense. "What do we do?"

I didn't know about her, but I needed to get out of there. I was uncomfortable and desperately needed to regain control. I moved to the UV box, which was still glowing. Y/N jumped down from the bench as I grabbed the blade, cutting around the bands on the gel. I found it ironic that my hands were now shaking, yet I managed to do a decent job.

Once finished, I shut off the UV light and flicked the room lights back on. Y/N jumped a little, and though I was sure she was staring at me, I couldn’t meet her gaze—I wouldn’t.

I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath. "Take each piece of gel and put it in a single epi tube," I instructed, forcing myself to focus on anything but her. "You can follow the rest of the protocol at the bench."

"Yoongi," she whispered, urgency lacing her voice.

"I’ll be back in a bit," I said, my hand on the doorknob. I didn’t risk a glance at her, fearing that a single look would draw me back in. I opened the door and stormed out, nearly colliding with Jimin, who stood there with his arms crossed.

What the hell just happened?

A few moments later, I was outside the building. Rain hammered down, but I didn’t care. I wished I smoked, drank, or had any vice to help me calm down. I tried deep breaths to steady myself, but the rain only added to the chaos swirling inside me. I made it to the tree line behind the parking lot, leaning against a trunk with one hand while the other pressed against my chest, where my heart threatened to pound its way out. I was panting, sweating, and completely unraveling.

What the hell had I been thinking?

Well, clearly, I hadn’t been thinking at all.

God, I could still taste her on my lips.

I swallowed hard.

Y/N had the sweetest lips I’d ever kissed.

I was doomed.

This could ruin everything. I couldn’t let myself be distracted by Y/N like this. I had lost all control, and I didn’t know what would have happened if Jimin hadn’t knocked. Or worse, what if Y/N had opened the door without knocking? Thank God the light was off, and the “IN USE” sign was outside.

No one could know about this, especially not Jimin—he was Jin’s puppy! If Jin ever found out…

God, this was all so messed up!

I had to make it clear to Y/N—this had to stay between us. We had to pretend it never happened.

It would never happen again.

I could never have my lips on hers again—just the thought of it made my chest ache.

I had known kissing her would be good. She had the most beautiful lips I’d ever seen. They didn’t disappoint. Her kiss exceeded any expectation I had dared to dream. How could I endure not kissing her again, knowing how sweet she tasted?

If I thought it was torture to be around her before, now it was going to be hell.

And she had kissed me back. She had. It wasn’t just me. She wanted this too. Didn’t she know it was wrong? I needed to talk to her, to explain that this couldn’t happen again. We had to keep things professional, to work together without awkwardness. We had to manage that. I needed to manage that.

I wouldn’t look at her lips, or her smile, if that’s what it took. Maybe I could lie and say we needed to wear mouth masks for the rest of the project…

With a groan, I stepped away from the tree. I fisted my hair, realizing I was getting drenched, and walked back into the building. I shook my head to rid myself of some of the water, but I was still soaked when I climbed the stairs.

When I entered the lab, Y/N pretended not to see me, but I knew better. Her posture shifted, her back straightened, and the foot she had been tapping on the floor stilled.

I noticed Jimin was in the lab, standing at his bench across from Y/N, staring at her. It became clear to me that Y/N was putting on a show for him.

I sighed, feeling a little relief wash over me.

Y/N wouldn’t tell anyone—at least that much was clear.

But I still needed to talk to her. What happened was wrong and completely inappropriate. I couldn’t let her get the wrong idea.

I buried myself in my computer for a while, pretending to work by aimlessly scrolling and clicking, but my attention was entirely on Y/N. She seemed to move through the purification protocol without a hitch. What was going through her head?

Y/N strolled into the lab on Thursday, her smile cutting through the sterile, fluorescent gloom like a ray of sunlight. I gave her a nod—polite, detached—but that didn’t stop my heart from racing at the flicker of warmth in her gaze. As I turned back to my work, she let out a sigh that lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her glancing at Jimin's empty bench, and the reminder of his absence hung like a storm cloud between us. 

"Okay," she began, hands planted defiantly on her hips. "Should we talk about this?"

I forced myself to meet her gaze, focusing on those deep, captivating eyes while battling the temptation to let my gaze wander to her lips, which seemed to whisper promises that drove me mad with longing. 

"There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N."

"Well, are you going to go back to being mean to me?" 

"I was never mean to you."

Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and heat crept into my cheeks as I remembered all the stunts I’d pulled—the pranks that had hurt her, the lab coat I’d ruined...

"I won't be mean to you again," I muttered, letting out a heavy sigh and looking at the floor.

"Yoongi..." Her voice was soft, almost melodic, and it tugged at my heart. 

When I met her gaze again, it was a mistake—her lip caught between her teeth was a distraction I didn’t need. My hands clenched into fists, seeking refuge in my pockets as her eyes searched mine, wary but hopeful, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"It won't be awkward, all right? I promise."

That smile of hers struck me like a bolt of lightning, forcing a groan deep within my chest. I could see the words dancing on her lips, ready to spill out, but they vanished like smoke when Jimin walked back into the lab. Taking advantage of the reprieve, I buried myself in my work, fighting to act normal.

But normalcy felt like a distant memory whenever Y/N was near. She moved through the lab with quiet grace, while I stood like a rock in a river of uncertainty, drowning in my thoughts.

As the day wore on and shadows lengthened, I noticed her gathering her things. Instinct kicked in—I pretended to be engrossed in my computer, watching her shuffle and fidget until she finally took a step toward me.

"Hey, Yoongi?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes?" I turned to face her, masking the turmoil inside.

"Um, I was wondering... I know I’m just an undergrad here, and there’s really no room for me to... I-I mean, I know it’s really not my place to ask, but..." Her words faltered, and the crimson blush creeping up her cheeks sent my heart racing.

"Y/N, would you get on with it? I don’t have all day." My frustration boiled over, the energy it took to be normal around her fraying my patience.

Her frown was instant, a storm brewing in those beautiful eyes. 

Shit, that was uncalled for...

"Never mind…" she sighed, disappointment echoing in the air.

"Wait." I took a breath, willing myself to soften. "I’m sorry. Please, Y/N, tell me."

She sighed again, a deep, resigned breath. "I know there’s that recruitment party this Saturday. It’s for prospective students to meet the current students in the department. And I know, I’m just the undergrad, but I think it would be great if I could meet them. You know? Hopefully, in a year, I’ll be going through recruitment myself." Her fingers twisted anxiously in front of her, a sight that both amused and strained my patience.

"Is there a question you wanted to ask?" I barked, the irritation bubbling to the surface.

"Yes…" she snapped back, indignation rising. "My question is: do you mind if I’m there?" She crossed her arms, defiance written all over her.

Why would I care if she came? I hadn’t even planned on attending that stupid party. But suddenly, the thought twisted in my gut, a knot tightening as a realization hit me.

I shot up from my chair, startling her. "Who told you about the party?"

Her eyes dropped, a sigh escaping her lips, and just like that, the truth hit me like a freight train. I fucking knew it.

"You’re going with Jungkook, aren’t you?" I took a step closer, looming over her.

"No, I’m not going with Jungkook." Her voice was steady, but her gaze flickered to meet mine. "But I’m going."

"Well, I guess I’ll see you there, then."

"Okay," she said with a nonchalant shrug, but the smile that graced her lips made my stomach twist. She turned to leave, and I felt something unravel within me—my hands instinctively reached out, fingers curling into frustrated fists. I didn’t know if I wanted to strangle her or pull her into a desperate embrace. All I knew was that I was left staring helplessly as she walked away.

I didn’t need her to say it; I knew Jungkook was behind this. She might not be going with him, but the thought of him lurking at that party made my blood boil. For the first time in a long while, I felt the gnawing sensation of jealousy eat away at my insides.

Fucking Jungkook Jeon.

I couldn’t believe I was even considering this.

Why did it matter if Y/N went to the recruitment party? It shouldn’t. Yet here I was, battling an angry tide rising in my chest, all because of that idiot Jungkook. If she were going with someone more acceptable—someone who didn’t make my skin crawl—I’d be okay with it. I should be okay with it. The rational part of my brain knew that, but the irritation overshadowed everything else.

What did she even see in Jungkook? The guy barely scraped by on his Qual after taking it twice and hadn’t published a single paper. He was working with fruit flies for crying out loud! And his personality? A brick wall. I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t like him. I couldn’t stand him.

I had to go to this party.

At lunch, against my better judgment, I decided to bring it up with Hoseok. 

"Hey, where’s the recruitment party this year?" I asked, trying to sound casual as I stabbed my fork into the mac and cheese.

"You’re going to the recruitment party?" Hoseok dropped his fork, suspicion etched across his face like a roadmap to his thoughts.

"Yes," I groaned, already regretting bringing it up. Of course, he’d make a fuss.

"To our department’s recruitment party?" He pressed a finger to his chest as if I’d committed a heinous crime.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" I shrugged, pushing the macaroni around in my bowl.

"Let me think… maybe because I’ve organized every single one since I got here, and you’ve never attended."

"Will you just answer my question?" I snapped, frustration boiling over.

"It’s at the South Campus Center, bro." Even though he finally answered, his gaze lingered, scrutinizing me like I was a specimen under his microscope.

"Great, thanks." I tried to keep my tone light, rolling my eyes at his obvious scrutiny.

"I can’t believe you’re going." A knowing smile danced at the corners of his lips, and I loathed it.

I pretended not to care, shrugging off the comment as he took a seat next to me. 

"If only I had known all it would take was an undergrad to get through you."

"This has nothing to do with Y/N," I spat, defensiveness creeping in, my irritation sharpening with each word. Her name was Y/N, not ‘the undergrad.’

"Right, so it’s just a coincidence… this is just the year you happen to decide to attend this thing."

"Yes."

"Is she going?" His eyebrow arched, mischief glinting in his eyes.

I groaned and turned away, pretending to be absorbed in my food.

"Dude, I can see it. How she’s affected you. It’s kind of obvious. You can talk to me, you know? It might help."

The breath I took was deep and shaky, every nerve ending igniting with frustration. But before I could stop myself, the words came pouring out. "She drives me crazy, Hoseok. I can’t stand it. I lose all control when I’m around her. I kissed her… I kissed her, and she said she doesn’t want to jeopardize her work in the lab. And it makes sense for her to think that. But the worst part is now I can’t stop seeing her everywhere. She’s in the lab, at the gym, at the freaking library where I get my coffee—she’s everywhere! I need to go back to not seeing her, because I can’t handle this." I stared down at my lunch, the food suddenly unappetizing, a lifeless pile of carbs.

"So you don’t want to see her?" Hoseok asked, surprisingly calm, like he was dissecting a specimen on his lab bench.

"Exactly."

"You don’t want to kiss her again?" He pushed, an amused grin creeping across his face.

"I don’t know what I want!" I barked, irritation flaring.

"Sounds to me like you want to go to the party, see her, and kiss her again. The question is, how are you going to deal with Jungkook?"

My shoulders tightened at the mention of his name, a cold shiver running down my spine. "I don’t care about him."

"I don’t know, man. It’s weird. The vibes are strange. You’re talking about her with a lot of… emotion."

"Emotion?" I snapped, but deep down, I felt the truth behind his words. I was at the mercy of my own feelings, a trembling wreck in the face of Y/N’s smile. I hated it. I wanted to turn it off. I couldn’t afford to feel anything.

"Fine," I muttered, sinking back into my chair, wishing to be swallowed by it.

"You’re going to have to confront those feelings eventually, Yoongi."

I grunted in response, refusing to admit he was right. I didn’t want to think about Y/N, and I definitely didn’t want to deal with Jungkook. All I wanted was to escape this mess, but deep down, I knew I was already trapped.

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

[luvismenu]

> motive — pt.6 ,, index ! nsfw

. . brother's bestfriend!jungkook au . .

note: this part was supposed to be longer but i dont have tumblr premium so haha ,, shortened version <3 i am not making a pt.2 of a pt.6 🥴 anyway, moving on !!!

— no series taglist !!

💌 permanent taglist: @annyeongbitch7 @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @jaytheatiny @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee @thvgukk

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @rrosiitas @jjeonjjk7 @remgeolli @ty-moy-ya-tvoy @rpwprpwprpwprw

[jincapableoflove]

my masterlist!! ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ

i take requests for fics and drabbles! here's a list of all my works, please do not repost, modify, copy or translate them.

key; a = angst, f = fluff, s = smut

⋆｡‧˚ʚ one-shots ɞ˚‧｡⋆

★˖°。 a jar full of us (a,f,s) | teaser ⤷ best friends to ??? to lovers, college au, unrequited love(?) You never meant for him to find them. Hundred little confessions, folded away, never meant to be read. But now, they’re in his hands. And Jungkook—your best friend—knows everything. But he doesn’t say a word. He just watches you, with that same unreadable expression, like he’s waiting for something. And this Valentine’s Day, you might just have to find out what.

★˖°。 the one that got away (almost) (a,f) ⤷ exes au, second chance au, exes to lovers You weren’t supposed to see him again. Not after everything. But when your mutual friends invite you to their wedding, you’re forced to face Jungkook—the boy who once had your heart, the man you never quite got over.

★˖°。 the grumpy girlfriend protection program (a,f) ⤷ sunshine x grumpy, golden retriver bf x black cat gf Jeon Jungkook has always been the sunshine in every room; warm, kind, and completely oblivious to danger. Luckily, you, his grumpy, overprotective girlfriend have made it your personal mission to keep him safe. But when the threat shifts to you instead, Jungkook proves that even sunshine can scorch—and for you, he’d burn.

★˖°。 house of cards (a,f) | teaser [coming soon] ⤷ yandere au, psychological thriller, dark romance Your life with Jungkook is perfect—until the cracks begin to show. A photo with the wrong date. A diary filled with memories you don’t recall. A door that vanishes overnight. And Jungkook—always there, always watching, always pulling you back when you start to question too much. You know something is wrong. But the real question is: Have you forgotten… or were you made to?

★˖°。 bloodstained oath (a,s) ⤷ vampire au, knight x queen, dark romance You are untouchable. Feared and worshipped by all. And he's the knight who has sworn himself to you. When you finally call him to your chambers, he offers everything, his blood, devotion, and his very being. After all, you are no ordinary woman. You are a creature of the night, and Jungkook has longed to be yours.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ series ɞ˚‧｡⋆

✏️- ongoing | ✅ - completed

★˖°。 how to ruin a wedding (a,f,s) ✏️ ⤷ fake dating au, plus one! jungkook, fake bf! jungkook Crashing your ex’s wedding with a fake boyfriend was never the plan. Especially not when the fake boyfriend turns out to be the groom’s long-lost cousin with an agenda of his own. You just wanted to look unbothered, and Jungkook just wanted answers. Neither expected real feelings to gatecrash the deal. But in a vineyard full of secrets, what’s one more lie between strangers pretending not to fall in love?

⋆｡‧˚ʚ drabbles ɞ˚‧｡⋆

★˖°。 the househusband diaries (f,s) ⤷ househusband x working wife a series of drabbles featuring househusband jungkook and office worker reader.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ one-shots ɞ˚‧｡⋆

★˖°。 detention (f,s) ⤷ teacher x student Detention with Mr. Park might be your new favorite place as your relation with him shifts from teacher and student to something more.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ series ɞ˚‧｡⋆

✏️- ongoing | ✅ - completed

★˖°。 a recipe for love (a,f,s) ✏️ ⤷ baker au, forbidden love As their town announces its first-ever baking competition, Kim Y/n and Park Jimin find themselves pairing up to participate. However, the generations-old feud between their families prevents them from doing so. In order to avoid stirring up further animosity between their families, Jimin and Y/n must be secretive. Will Jimin and Y/n be able to be stealthy enough to navigate their days practising and testing out recipes for the competition, without their family members finding out?

[jananakookie]

Rumor Has It | pjm - Chapter 7

💬 Pairing: Jimin x OC (Reader)

💬 Genre/Tags: enemies(?) to lovers, fake-dating au; angst, fluff, smut

💬 Chapter warnings: swearing, almost? physical fight, angst, contains sexual themes! fingering, nipple play, protected sex

💬 Word count: 11.3k

💬 Recap:

Rumor has it, Park Jimin is single again after his latest girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend.

Rumor has it, he's willing to get back at them.

Rumor has it, you're the perfect means to an end.

Previous Chapter - Index - Next Chapter

short notice: Please let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore. Since I've been away for over a year, I could really understand that. Don't wanna bother anyone!

If you're still here pls leave feedback and a reblog? x

Chapter 7: There's something in the water.

All eyes are on you as you stroll down the hallway with two cups of coffee in one hand and a paper bag with breakfast in the other, gradually trying to find your destined room while also desperately trying to block out curious gazes. 

Getting stared at is nothing new for you, but this time it feels a little more personal since you don’t think you have ever been in this part of the building before. You never really had a reason to visit the dance department until now.

Today marks another new experience because you suddenly woke up this morning with the urge to surprise Jimin and be the one to make the first step toward him instead of letting him do all the work. 

Your little heart-to-heart the other day opened your eyes and let you see him in a different light. It made you think that maybe - just maybe, he is not the enemy. Perhaps he is just some guy, trying to get along and make things easier for the both of you and maybe it is your turn to do something nice for him for a change. 

The first thing that came to your mind was surprising him with his favorite coffee (and your presence) right after practice, which is why you went to the dance department for the first time today. 

You spot Jimin in a room at the end of the hallway, after nervously walking around and praying to find him as soon as possible. It looks like he’s still going over some moves whereas most other people are already departing. But as you get closer you see that there's someone else with him. 

You don't know her name but think you've seen her around before. Was it with Nayeon? Or one of Jimin's guy friends? Wherever you saw her before, you're sure she's in Jimin's friend group whatsoever. 

From your point of view, it looks like he's showing her how to get some moves done, and you don't want to interrupt their practice session so you decide to wait at the door until they're done even if that means that you are exposed to the torture of other people's vile looks for even longer.

Today is the first time you see Jimin dance and even if your opinion is perhaps influenced by your untrained eye and therefore doesn't say much, you must admit that he's insanely talented. The way he moves makes it look so easy even though you could never do it like that.

The girl is pretty good too, but you can't take your eyes off Jimin. He has something about him that attracts people's attention. You were already aware of that before, but he seems to be having it in everything he does.

A few steps later, just as it looks like she's about to jump into his arms, she suddenly stumbles and... falls into his arms anyway, albeit not very gracefully.

Jimin's quick reflexes have probably just spared her face a collision with the ground and you are glad nothing else has happened. But after she holds on to him for just a tad bit too long and presses her face into his chest to hide her sheepish giggles, you can't help but roll your eyes in annoyance.

“Bad timing?” you almost shock yourself with how unexpectedly loud your voice echoes through the room as you stomp right in and judging by how quickly Jimin turns around to face you, with wide eyes, you’re not the only one. 

You send him a shy grin, suddenly feeling stupid for coming here unannounced and interrupting their practice when you’ve never done that before. What the heck were you thinking?

Jimin wastes no time coming over to you, wearing a big smile on his lips, but his expression still looks confused. "Am I dreaming, or did you leave your place to come visit me here," his gaze quickly wavering to your hands, "and bring me coffee?" he asks, raising a brow.

“What makes you think I’m here for you?” You sass, a little irritated, even though you can’t blame him. This is a pretty unusual situation after all. 

“Right, I’m sorry. I just assumed since I’m the one you asked if it’s bad timing, which it isn’t, by the way,” Jimin laughs.

You roll your eyes, gradually taking one of the coffee cups out of the cup carrier and holding it out for him to take, which he immediately does, smiling brightly as if you gave him a cup of gold instead. 

“Thank you, seriously. I overslept today so I didn’t get the chance to have one before class,” he tells you, quickly taking a sip from his cup and moaning in delight. “I could kiss you right now, but I'm too scared of the reason you're here so please do it quickly. Like... ripping off a Band-Aid. What happened?”

“You’re acting like I didn’t make cupcakes for you and went out of my way to even draw your face on one of them before!” You scoff, feeling a little offended. Unbelievable.

“When you tried to poison me?”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you shrug. “Nothing happened. I just wanted coffee and thought you would too. And you tend to skip breakfast when you have practice but if you don’t want it, I can-”

You’re interrupted by his hand lightly grabbing your wrist as he takes the paper bag out of your hand with a teasing smile. “Thank you, ___.”

“Don’t mention it,” you shrug, feeling shy all of a sudden, so you avoid his gaze. 

A few coughs interrupt your moment and you have to admit that you had already completely forgotten about the other person in the room with you. And Jimin had too, it seems.

You gasp as you take in the girl behind Jimin. “I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb you guys. You can continue if you want. I'll be on my way.“ 

You don't know why you're so insecure today but you're ashamed of yourself. Of course, you wanted to interrupt them. You can't lie to yourself, even if you pray to God they won't see through you.

“Don't go. Leah and I are done here.” Jimin quickly catches your hand to keep you from leaving while his face is still turned to the girl - Leah. “I think you got it now. You just have to be careful not to give it too much momentum, then it will work just fine in the future.”

She looks like she wants to object but Jimin unknowingly doesn't even give her the chance to do so as he packs his things and you and then bids her farewell as he pulls you out of the studio.

Jimin is still holding your hand as he leads you outside. He quickly finds you both a quiet, sunny spot on the large meadow and gets comfortable while pulling you down with him. Since he still hasn't said anything yet, you assume that he doesn't see your interruption as bothersome at all which reassures you a little.

“Hey,“ Jimin whines as he pokes around in his fruit salad. “Where are all the grapes?”

You bite your lip sheepishly, shrugging as you take your phone out of your pocket. “Aw. Did they seriously forget the grapes? What a bummer,” you mumble, while you skillfully ignore his sharp gaze.

Knowing fully well why the grapes are actually missing, Jimin starts to discuss your plans for the rest of the day. 

For the opening of some new club in town, the owners will hold a big celebration tonight. Jimin has suggested that the "gang" (that's what he's been calling it lately whenever you do something together with Nayeon and Hyunjin) meet at your favorite restaurant to eat and then check it out to see if it's worth it.

You’re always on board when it’s about food and as far as you know, the others have already agreed to come and it fills you with excitement. For the first time in so long, it feels like you’re living your life again, going out with friends, eating, drinking, and having fun. That’s how it’s supposed to be. 

Well, it might not be for everyone, and that’s fine too. You enjoy the occasional lazy days at home, but you like to do things once in a while as well. And since you're fake-dating Jimin, you've been doing so much that you can't even think about your dramatic life anymore. 

You didn't even notice that a new neighbor had moved into the apartment next door. You must have looked pretty silly when he introduced himself this morning and mentioned that he'd been there all week, but this was the first time he'd met you.

“Maybe we should ask Jungkook if he wants to join,” you carefully suggest, quietly observing Jimin’s face as you sit next to him with your fingers still lazily intertwined with his. 

You see him furrow his brows almost immediately after those words leave your lips, and he turns his head to look at you. 

“I mean… because I’m sure he would want to come too but doesn’t have anyone to go with,“ you shrug.

“Lots of people from school will be there. He’ll find someone to hang out with like he always does,” Jimin voices, not very interested in your subtle suggestion. 

“What is your problem with him anyway? Why don’t you like him?” You sigh. Neither Jungkook nor anyone else has ever really answered this question for you and you don't expect a clear answer from Jimin either but are still interested in any possible reason.

“No specific explanation, I just don’t,” Jimin answers, without giving it much thought. “Pretty sure he feels the same way. We don’t match, that’s all.”

You pout, not agreeing with him in the slightest, but knowing pretty well there’s no point in arguing. 

“Maybe you should give people a chance once in a while. Who knows, you might find something that’s worth it.”

“Thanks Gandhi. You’re one to talk,” he snorts, sending a wink your way, when he sees the expression on your face. 

“I gave you a chance. That’s more than enough for the next ten years, I’d say,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

Jimin laughs, as he swings his arm around you. “And have you found something of worth yet?” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You gulp as you try to leave his grip, but he only holds you closer, already sensing you trying to get away. “I don’t need to answer that. Your head is big enough,” you chuckle, trying to wiggle your way out again. 

And in a moment of slight distraction, he loosens his grip, resulting in you being able to free yourself as he gasps loudly. “Wait, that means you have!”

“Never said that,” you sing song, skipping through the busy field.

Jimin takes a moment to look after you and smiles before he scoffs out a laugh and runs after you. 

Jimin was right — almost everyone and their mom came to the opening party and for the first time you are glad about Jimin's connections who have reserved a good table for your group of friends. 

While your friends enjoy their time and talk about this and that, you let your gaze wander around, admiring the beautiful, expensive-looking ambiance. It's classic but cool, chic but not snobbish. 

Whatever Nayeon has spent the past few minutes telling you appears to be funny, because suddenly everyone is laughing. Not wanting to let on that you're not listening at all, you also fake a soft laugh, but it's completely lost in the noisy surroundings.

It would probably be more polite to listen and take part in the conversation. Still, you find it incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything when Jimin's hand is far too high up your skirt to be considered appropriate. 

You're not sure exactly what it is, but something seems to be in the water today because his over-touchiness is truly on a different level. 

As always, you sit next to each other and the fact that he has his hand on your thigh is nothing new, Jimin is by no means afraid of contact. It has also happened before that he feels a little too comfortable when it comes to body contact. But today, every warning glance in his direction seems to have no effect, and you can't even count how many times you've grabbed his hand and moved it closer to your knee only for him to move it back up right after.

You don't even know if he's doing it consciously since he hasn't even given you a dirty smirk yet like he always does when he's messing with you. 

And what irritates you the most is how your own body betrays you. As much as you want to claim it, the goosebumps covering your body are not from disgust.

As a way to distract yourself from Jimin, you try to imagine which group of people this place is most likely trying to appeal to as your gaze falls on two, wildly waving arms, attached to a familiar-looking goofball.

A wide grin stretches over your lips as you wave back, which he probably mistakenly sees as an invitation to join you at your table. 

Sensing the drama, you quickly wrap yourself around Jimin’s arm and earn his attention as he gives you a questioning look. “Please be nice,” you plead, making him raise a brow in question before he sees him too.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you hear Jimin mumble to himself.

“Hey, guys! What's up?” Jungkook greets you, not wasting a second before he plops down on the empty seat next to Nayeon’s right side, who looks nothing but confused as to why Jeon Jungkook, whom she never even exchanged a word with has spontaneously joined her group.

“You have to stop inviting yourself to events where you aren’t welcome, man,” Jimin quips, clearly referring to your birthday party and earning a light slap to his thigh from you. 

“Oh, this is your club?” Jungkook counters, not expecting an answer from Jimin. “And who says I wasn’t invited?” Jungkook grins, wiggling his brows as he tries to annoy Jimin even further - and is successful. 

Even without looking at him, you can feel his eyes burning through your skull. “Wasn’t me,” you shrug, quietly sipping your coke. 

And it wasn’t. Even though you had asked about inviting him earlier, you wouldn’t just invite someone to a friendly gathering without letting the other people involved know about it. You wouldn’t like it either if one of the others did it. 

“Nah, don’t worry, she wasn’t going behind your back,” Jungkook chuckles, coming to your rescue. “I just like to crash parties, you know that already. One of my hobbies.”

“How about you go crash it at another table then?” Jimin suggests, sounding overly friendly even though his words suggest everything but kindness. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. 

But you do. And you’re just about to argue with Jimi about his rude behavior when Hyunjin speaks up first. “Why bother? We have enough space here, you can join if you want. Right, guys?” 

He appears sincere, and you're relieved that at least someone here was brought up with good manners when Nayeon also speaks up. 

“Sure! The more the merrier, I guess,” she smiles brightly, offering him her hand to shake, which he does. 

But Jimin is displeased and he makes anything but a secret of it. Jungkook can sense it too, and even if he likes to get on the older guy's nerves because it’s fun, he doesn’t want you to fight because of him. So he lies and says he has someone waiting for him at a different table before he bids everyone a quick goodbye and leaves again. 

“So the rumors are true,” Hyunjin states, as soon as Jungkook has left around the corner and is nowhere to be seen. You can already feel Jimin tensing up beside you and you feel your heart sink already. 

“You and Jeon actually know each other?” 

You try to hear a condemning tone in his voice but breathe a sigh of relief when you don’t. There’s no judgment. Instead, he sounds and looks surprised.

“They do know each other. Everything else is not true.” Jimin takes it upon himself to answer his friend, not missing the chance to send a daring look his way. 

Hyunjin innocently lifts his hands, trying to show that he didn’t mean to sound judgmental, even if you didn’t think he meant it in a bad way. 

“It’s fine, you can ask me anything,” you smile, trying to tell him that he did nothing wrong. “I’d rather you ask me stuff instead of believing something that isn’t true.”

“He seems nice,” Nayeon chimes in, offering you a kind smile. “He should join us sometime.”

You would agree, but knowing it would upset Jimin, you don’t further argue about it and instead replace the topic of Jungkook with another one. 

About an hour later you find yourself alone in the middle of the long hall that holds the restrooms after you went there with Nayeon. The problem is that you somehow lost her on your way out and now she is nowhere to be seen.

You anxiously look around, full of worry about what might have happened, when you finally see her just a few meters behind you. You breathe out a sigh of relief when you realize she's just chatting with a cute guy. 

She doesn't look annoyed or worried at all. Instead, she seems interested, if you interpret her body language and flirty looks correctly, so you decide to give her some privacy and not disturb her, but stay close by to jump in at any time if you need to.

“Bit creepy, don’t you think?” A voice appears right next to your ear, making you twitch in sudden fright. 

“Jesus Christ, Jeon. Stop appearing out of nowhere, you freak!”

“It was too tempting.“ He looks like a supermodel as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes squinted shut while he laughs at your frightened state.

“Anyway, why are you spying on Lee Nayeon? I thought we hated her 'cause she treated you like shit,” he asks, taking his eyes off you and frowns at Nayeon instead when he says that. 

“First of all, we?” you raise a brow, sending him a questioning look, “second of all, we made up ages ago. Please keep up with the reality drama show that is my life. Thank you.”

“How am I supposed to do that if you never tell me anything?” 

You sigh, copying his theatrical expression. “Why did you leave earlier?” You then change the topic while stealing glances at Nayeon every once in a while.

“Really?” Jungkook scoffs. “I think your boyfriend had a problem with me being there.”

You can’t help but grin wildly while crossing your arms over your chest. “Are you scared of him?”

You see him opening his mouth, but before he can answer, Jimin comes walking around the corner at a fast pace, surprising the two of you.

“I should have known you were behind this,” he grunts, looking at Jungkook. 

“What did I do now?” Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Do you need to buzz around her like a fly all the time? It’s starting to get pathetic, Jeon.”

You can see that Jungkook is about to lose his temper, which implies that Jimin is slowly but surely getting on his nerves a little too much. However, this brief flash in Jungkook's eyes disappears as quickly as it appeared. Instead, a grin of satisfaction spreads across his lips.

“What are you so scared of? She isn’t even your real girlfriend.” 

If his expression is anything to go by, Jungkook appears to be just as shocked by his slip-up as Jimin is. Even though you never explicitly mentioned it, he knows he wasn't supposed to tell Jimin about being aware of your plan. But looks like he couldn't resist exposing Jimin without considering the consequences.

Before any more things are said that are better kept quiet, you step in and tell Jungkook that he should leave. You prepare yourself for the inevitable confrontation with Jimin that awaits you as soon as you turn to face him.

“You told Jeon about us?!” Jimin is attempting to lower his voice to avoid attracting unwanted listeners, but the bulging vein on his neck reveals his current rage.

“Calm down,” you hiss, putting your hands against his chest. “He has known from the start. He wasn’t going to believe me anyway, trust me,” you explain, watching the frown on his face turn deeper.

“Well, thank you very much, ___,” Jimin pouts, making you roll your eyes. 

“What? It’s no secret that we don’t like each other that much. If we would, it wouldn’t be so hard for us to make other people believe us.”

It looks like Jimin wants to argue about that but he decides against it, biting his lip instead as he glares at the cup in his hands.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. He won’t tell on us.”

“How do you know that?” He exclaims, wildly flaring his hands around. “You don’t know him, ___. Nobody fucking knows him! We never know where he goes when he suddenly disappears for days! He’s a fucking ninja!”

“I know enough to be sure he will keep our secret, trust me.”

“Yea no, thank you. I already made that mistake once,” he hisses, turning to leave again but you stop him, quickly grabbing his hand.

“Come on don't be mad at me,” you sigh, tugging on his hand to keep him from leaving you there. “I’m sorry, Jimin, I didn’t mean to upset you. Please don’t be mad at me,” you plead, trying your best to prevent another fight between you both. You do feel bad because even if you don’t know the exact reason for all this, you know, that it means a lot to him and you don’t wanna fuck it up the way you seem to fuck everything else up. 

“It’s not like I told him so we can joke about you behind your back or make you look stupid. That’s not the case. He just figured it out immediately. But he hasn’t told anyone, and he isn’t going to, I swear.”

Jimin takes a moment before he gives you an answer, deeply studying your face as if he’s looking for any indication that you’re lying to him. “Is that also why he’s always around?”

“I mean he’s kinda strange. He spawns whenever to be honest,” you shrug, “but he does try to look out for me, I think. He says he doesn’t trust your intentions.” 

Something between a scoff and a laugh comes between Jimin’s lips when he hears you say that but contrary to your expectation, he doesn’t comment on it. 

Wherever Jimin goes, he sees them strutting around like royalty, holding their heads high, as if they haven't done anything wrong. It's as if they hadn't betrayed their childhood friends and partners, as if it was nothing. They act like they haven't taken advantage of you without your knowledge and made you look ridiculous in front of the entire school.

They walk around as if nothing happened and they have the nerve to even look at him and greet him. Even if it’s just from afar. And what’s even worse is that no one other than the people involved seems to remember or, well, care. It makes Jimin’s blood boil.

He doesn’t deserve that. Nayeon doesn’t deserve that. YOU do not deserve that.

How little shame can two people have?

Jimin can’t help but glare at them until they get swallowed by the crowd and are no longer in his sight after what feels like an eternity. It takes a lot for him to calm down again but when he sees you and Nayeon dancing together, having fun, and not caring about anything else, it makes him feel even worse about himself. 

He doesn’t want to be the only one stuck in the past. It’s not like he wants to think about them anyway but it’s hard for him to move on from all of this when it’s just so… unresolved. 

How come they get away with everything without having to pay for anything they did?

Completely lost in his head and frowning down into his drink, he doesn’t see you creeping up to him until he feels your arms wrap around him from behind. “Why aren’t you having fun?” 

The feeling of your breath right next to his ear sends shivers down his spine and he doesn’t even have to look into your glassy eyes to know you’re already enjoying yourself. 

You’re not drunk, but it’s safe to say you’ve had a couple of drinks by now because you’re never this touchy when it comes to him - not that he’s complaining now. 

“Who says I’m not?”

“Hm, I don’t know…” You squint your eyes, pursing your lips slightly as you study him. “The frown between your eyes, your clenched jaw, or the way you hold your glass so tightly your knuckles don't contain even a drop of blood anymore. Choose one.” 

“Nothing escapes your otherworldly instincts I’m afraid,” Jimin sighs dramatically as he takes your hand in his and reverses your position until you're pressed to his chest with his free arm around your back, making you suck in a breath from surprise. “But maybe I’m just jealous you spend all your time with Nayeon and not with me, babygirl.”

“Very funny,” you huff, desperately trying to hide how flustered his words make you. “But if you insist,” you smirk, letting your hands teasingly wander up his chest until you intertwine them around his shoulders. “I’ll spend it with you from now on.” You see him gulp and it makes your heart skip a beat from satisfaction — two can play this game, Park. 

“I know you think this is you getting the upper hand, but what if this is exactly what I want?” 

“Honestly, wouldn’t surprise me since you’re joking about getting in my pants ever since we met,” you feign a grin.

“How can you still think I’m joking?” He smirks, slowly leaning forward to slightly press a kiss behind your ear.

It takes a lot from you not to make a sound and you’re just about to push him off of you when something in the corner catches your eyes, making a fictional lightbulb appear above your head.

“Kiss me,” you say, placing one hand under his chin to make him look at you.

The sudden look of confusion on his face quickly turns into a pleased expression as he tightens his arms around your waist even more, leans in, and starts kissing you. 

When his lips first touch yours, they feel soft and so familiar that it's as if you've been transported back in time. The last time he kissed you, you were drunk out of your mind, but it seems like you haven't forgotten the way his lips feel on yours. 

The kiss gets heated very quickly when he lets his tongue slip in between your lips to find yours. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck to tilt your head towards him and grant him more access, eliciting a breathless moan from you.

He kisses you deep like that for what feels like a small eternity, letting his tongue fight with yours before he breaks it again. You didn't even realize how urgently you need to catch your breath until his lips only hover above yours.

“Happy?” Jimin asks hoarsely, smiling down at you.

You nod before you clear your throat in desperate need to get your pathetic self together and find your voice again.

“Yeah… I'd say that was a success,” you say, biting your lower lip as he raises an eyebrow.

“Yeji was walking in so I asked you to kiss me to make her jealous and it worked because she left when she saw us kissing and she looked pissed,” you ramble, a little surprised when you see his confident smile slowly fade. 

“Oh.”, he rasps. “Right, uhm...” 

Jimin slowly lets go of you and returns to his earlier spot beside you. You cannot help but notice a slight difference in his behavior compared to earlier. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to make him look at you but he’s frowning down at the floor again, not even turning his head in your direction.

“That’s… That’s still the plan, right?” You don’t even know why you’re asking such dumb questions. It is still the plan of course and yet, you feel like you have to apologize for faking a supposed intimate moment with him.

“Yes,” he quips, looking at you for a millisecond before he clears his throat. “I need to use the restroom.” 

And with that, he’s gone and you feel like the biggest idiot. You should have told him about your real intentions when you asked him to kiss you because now it feels like you lead him on and you feel dumb about feeling like that when you shouldn’t because that’s the only reason you should be asking him to kiss you anyway isn’t it? And ugh, when did things get so complicated?

“Everything okay?” Nayeon asks as she comes walking to you. “Where did he go?”

“Oh yeah, he just needed to use the restroom,” you say, trying to muster up a smile which seems to be enough for her to let it go for now. You’re trying not to let it show how much his sudden behavior confuses you as well.

“I know I say it all the damn time but I love the two of you together so much,” Nayeon gushes, making you cringe internally. You send her the fakest smile ever, but she doesn’t even notice. 

“He seems so much more like himself when you’re around.” 

Nayeon is sweet but what is that even supposed to mean? 

"He's just so much more...” 

“Horny?” 

Nayeon gasps, giving your arm a light slap before you both fall into fits of laughter. 

“No, ___, not horny. He’s calmer. More relaxed. He lets go of this golden boy image in your presence. It’s nice to see because that was never really him anyway. It’s just that… he sometimes tries too hard, you know? And it’s a shame because he’s already pretty cool the way he is.”

You find yourself listening intently when she explains and you think you can agree with some of that. 

From what you’ve known so far, Jimin is someone with a big ego and plenty of confidence. However, it seems like he's a different person every time he interacts within his social circles. As if he always has to try not to lose his position. He's different when it's just your little group. And you wonder if it has anything to do with what he told you a while ago. That all these people, all his contacts are nothing but a facade. That he has close to no real friends.

That's probably the saddest thing he's ever told you about himself and yet you just accepted it and never really gave it a second thought.

"Well, anyway, whatever you're doing, you're doing great. Thank you," Nayeon gives you a warm smile before she shifts her attention to something else.

You think about her words for a while, but the longer you do, the worse you feel. You do not deserve her praise in the slightest.

You’re the worst fake girlfriend ever.

This night did not turn out the way Jimin wanted it to. It was supposed to be a nice night out with a couple of friends to have fun and make some good memories. He thought it was more than necessary for all of you but perhaps he shouldn't have set his expectations too high. Now he’s in a bad mood, sitting on a brick wall right outside the club and getting drunk on his own.

He knows he can't stay here for much longer, knowing that you will probably be looking for him soon. He has also promised not to leave you alone anymore, and yet here he is. The only thing that reassures him is that Nayeon is with you, which is why he's not in such a hurry right now. He just needed a moment to think. One moment to come clean with himself. And the best way to achieve that is probably not by getting drunk alone, but sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.

A lot is happening tonight, and right now, he doesn’t have a healthier way of coping with the mess inside his head, so this will have to do.

He isn’t even one hundred percent sure why he’s in such a sour mood all of a sudden but he blames it on all the little inconveniences he has encountered throughout the night. 

First Jeon appears out of nowhere — again, then he finds out that you told Jeon about your deal ages ago, he is once again being forced to see Taehyung and Yeji and if that wasn’t enough already, you only let him kiss you to make Yeji jealous. 

The last point shouldn't be a problem. He's aware of that. After all, you're just trying to help him and keep this stupid deal without crossing any boundaries which you are so persistent on. But he can’t help but feel so stupid for not realizing it at the time and thinking you wanted him to kiss you when you’ve made it more than clear multiple times that that’s not something you’re interested in. 

Yes, your dynamics have undoubtedly changed, and you are much more open to spontaneous flirting and subtle touches these days, but your fundamental attitude toward the whole thing is still the same, and Jimin accepts that. He would never want you to be uncomfortable or anything. 

A group of very loud people interrupts his sulking but he doesn’t find it in himself to even look up from his half-empty bottle of— what was it again? He doesn’t remember what he got but hey, it’s a sign that it’s working, right?

“Woah hey buddy, you alright?” It is the voice that suddenly arouses his interest after all. “Why are you out here by yourself Jimin? Where is your girl?” 

Jimin's head jerks up as soon as he hears the voice of the person addressing him directly. He wants to see if he is dreaming or if the person he believes is really standing in front of him but the movement is perhaps a little too fast for him in his current state because everything starts to turn at that very moment and he can’t see straight.

Fortunately, it doesn't take long before everything stops spinning and his eyes manage to focus again, landing on a stupidly smirking Taehyung.

And suddenly Jimin can feel his anger in his whole body as he knocks his opponent's hand off his shoulder. “Don’t touch me. What the fuck are you doing?”

He may be a little tipsy right now but he’s in his senses enough to bring as much space as possible between him and this lying, cheating bastard.

“I’m just trying to help,” Taehyung says, adding a small unnecessary scoff at the end which doesn’t rub Jimin the right way. 

“I don't need your help, you've done enough already,” he quips, glaring at Taehyung. "I can't believe you even dare to talk to me. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Taehyung looks annoyed and not even remotely interested in having this conversation when he rolls his eyes disrespectfully.

"Look, I understand what I did wasn't great, and you have every right to be mad. But don't you think you're being a bit dramatic? It's been months, Jimin, and you still refuse to talk to me. You won't even acknowledge me."

Jimin scoffs out a laugh, taken aback by what Taehyung just said.“Even if it had been years, I’d still not talk to you!” Jimin’s anger grows with every passing second, his feet bringing him closer to his ex-best friend without him even noticing. No doubt the alcohol is playing a part in the way he struggles with calming himself down right now but Taehyung’s sole appearance and the way he tries to make him look like the bad guy is pissing him off. "You've got some nerve coming up to me and acting as if nothing happened."

“You should learn to let things go man.”

Taehyung barely finishes his sentence before Jimin shoves him hard, making him stumble back a couple of steps. The stupid look on his face alone was worth it.

“Maybe you should learn to own up to your mistakes and keep other people’s names out of your mouth.”

Another hard push to Taehyung’s chest made him stumble back into one of his friends. Taehyung pushes back and italmost escalates until someone suddenly intervenes and pulls Jimin out of the conflict by standing between them.

Jimin glares at Taehyung, breathing heavily in anger as he is gently pushed further back to create some space.

“There’s no need to do this here right now, Jimin. Especially when you’re in this state,” a calm voice directed at him tries to appease him.

Even though his eyes only alternate between Taehyung and Yeji, Jimin knows that it's Jungkook, who is trying to mediate. But he doesn't have the head or the attention to think about why it's him of all people who stops him from doing something inevitably stupid right now.

He ignores Jungkook, completely captivated by how Taehyung steps closer again, despite Yeji grabbing his arm to try and keep him from it. 

“If you have something to say then fucking do it. Or tuck tail and let others sort it out for you like you always do.”

“He’s just trying to rile you up. Don’t stoop to his level.“ Jungkook gives Jimin another nudge, hoping he’ll listen and remove himself from the situation. “Come on, let’s find ___.” 

“Yeah, better listen to your girlfriend’s boyfriend.” Taehyung snickers, his posture toughening up when he hears approving laughter from his friends.

This time, Jimin is ready to wipe the smirk off of his face for good, but Jungkook beats him to it, his eyes full of bottled-up anger.

“You’re one to talk. Don’t you have one of your hookups waiting for you? The one from last week is somewhere around here. I saw her earlier.” Jungkook clips, clearly irritated as well before successfully turning Jimin away from him.

The last thing Jimin sees is a fuming Yeji going at a dumbfounded Taehyung before Jungkook leads him around a corner. 

“I just made that up,” Jungkook admits with his jaw still clenched. “Gave him some of his own medicine. Looks like his girlfriend doesn’t trust him that much,” he adds, a sheepish chuckle leaving his lips.

Although still quite agitated, Jimin can’t help but grin at that. “He deserved it.”

“He did.”

He is considering what to say next, feeling awkward in Jungkook's presence now that he stood up for him when he didn't have to. Normally, he would think that Jungkook would have been happy to watch this fight escalate, but instead, he mediated and even took his side. 

Jimin knows Jungkook didn't do it for him but for your sake. He's still pleasantly surprised by Jungkook's unexpected actions, especially since Jimin never has anything nice to say to the younger guy.

Fortunately for him, Nayeon suddenly pops up, followed by you, interrupting the uncomfortable atmosphere.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Nayeon is the first to reach him. You're holding back a little, but the look in your eyes reveals that you're also worried. “Some people were saying you and Taehyung got into a fight. We were looking for you.”

“Ah, Taehyung was just trying to start something. Don’t worry though, nothing happened,” Jungkook explains before Jimin gets to say anything. 

While Nayeon refuses to accept this answer and asks Jimin for further details, Jungkook leans down towards you. “Take him home. I think it’s better we bring as much space between them as we can and something tells me Taehyung isn’t gonna leave soon.”

You know there's more to it than just Taehyung trying to start something, but you decide not to pester the boys anymore. You don't feel like partying anymore anyway, so you give him a silent nod and walk towards Jimin, who gives you a surprised look when you suddenly take his hand. “Let’s go home, yeah? I don’t feel like staying here any longer.”

Remembering how you two parted earlier, you're not sure how he'll react, which makes you a little uneasy. Luckily for you, a slight smile creeps onto Jimin's lips and you feel him squeeze your hand lightly as he nods in agreement.

The rest of the group agrees to leave as well. Eventually, you all find yourselves in a cab about twenty minutes later.

The last thirty-ish minutes have sobered him up, but something in you doesn't feel comfortable leaving Jimin alone, so you quickly decide for him that you only have one stop, which doesn't appear to bother him, although he seems quite surprised. 

You can't blame him. Not so long ago, you wouldn't have expected that you would voluntarily spend more time with him than necessary. Yet, here you are, inviting him to stay the night at yours.

He still hasn't said much to you - he hasn't said much in general since you left the club and it's hard to tell if it's because of you or if he just doesn't feel like it right now. 

He already lays comfortably in your bed when you come out of the bathroom. Part of you wants to complain about his audacity and condemn him to the couch. But in the end, you've already crossed that line before. Your bed is big enough to prevent discomfort, while your couch is sometimes too uncomfortable even to sit on.

So you don’t say anything while you climb into the space next to him. 

You lie there in silence, pondering what you should do before you finally take the initiative and break it with a silent whisper. “Are you okay?”

A long sigh leaves Jimin’s lips as he drives his hands through his face. “No, I’m an idiot.”

“Hey, it’s not like that’s news,” you grin, trying to make him smile but unlike usual, your bickering does not stir anything in him so you feel a little stupid for trying to lift the spirit like that when he’s obviously not in the mood. “I know you're not particularly into that, but do you want to tell me about it? I promise I can be serious when I need to be.”

He doesn’t reply for a while which you take as him not being interested. You know that as an emotional cripple yourself, you have no right to but it still makes you mad that he always refuses to open up about the stuff that went down when it bothers him.

“Yeji hurt you with what she did. I know you try to deny it and act like you don’t care whenever someone talks to you about it but you cared about her. And what she did, hurt you. I don’t know why you won’t admit it and if everyone juststraight up chooses to believe your bullshit then that’s on them but I can see right through that act.” 

You feel your fist grip your blanket in frustration when he still refuses to say anything and you huff in annoyance. “You can't even look at her and go almost manic every time someone even mentions her or Taehyung's name.”

You sigh. It’s not your intention to force him to talk to you, of course. But he must know he can confide in you. You have already figured him out anyway. “I’m mad too but it’s not healthy to keep all that in, trust me.“

“She broke my heart.” His voice is quiet, and you might have missed it if you weren’t lying there in complete silence. Still, it holds so much pain that it almost makes you wince as you turn your head, trying to see the expression on his face. His eyes stare right at the ceiling, brows creased slightly as he scoffs. “You’re right I never talk to anyone about it. And I hate to admit it but she did break my heart.”

“Because you loved her,” you whisper understandingly, turning your head to look straight at the ceiling once more.

“At one point I did. Not in the end anymore though. She broke my heart but I’m not talking about the cheating stuff.”

You don’t quite understand, and you’re just about to ask what he means when you hear his voice again. 

“It happened over a long period,” he rasps. “I was really in love with her in the beginning, but she changed. Or maybe I changed. Things changed. I don’t know.” He says, furrowing his brows, unpleased that he struggles to name it. “We hadn’t been close for a while when it happened, at least emotionally. I know she felt it just as much as I did, and maybe I’m to blame too for not breaking up with her as soon as I felt… close to nothing.”

“She could’ve broken up with you too. Lots of couples go through that at some point. It doesn’t justify cheating,” you argue, feeling yourself get worked up at him saying that before you remind yourself that it’s not the right moment for that. You don’t think that’s what Jimin needs or wants to hear right now. “At least that’s what I think.” 

“Anyway, it doesn't matter much, considering our relationship was pretty much over. Don't get me wrong, I am mad at her too. But Taehyung is the one who broke my heart this time,“ he then sighs. “I just don't get it.“ 

The frustration in his voice is clearly audible, and even if you've never experienced this exact situation, you know what it feels like to be betrayed by someone you used to trust.

“We grew up together. I used to tell him everything, he knew about my problems with Yeji. I wanted to save my relationship. He listened to me, comforted me, and gave me advice. All that while secretly having an affair with her behind my back?“ He sounds genuinely crushed while telling you all that.

“Who does that, ___?“

You have a lot of suitable terms for such people, but you know he doesn't expect an answer, at least not one like that. Since you've known him, he's already called Taehyung every insult under the sun himself, so that isn't what he needs.

“There are so many questions left unanswered in my head. Has he always been like this? If not, when did he change? If yes, why did I never notice anything? Was I like this as well and only noticed now because it's affecting me for the first time?“

It's the last question that really troubles him. You can see that right away.

“Some people are good at only showing you the sides of themselves that they want you to know. That doesn't necessarily make you simple-minded or blind. It just makes them good manipulators,“ you try to explain as best as you can. “Take it from someone who started with the worst opinion of you and has put up with your cocky ass every day since - you're a lot of things, Park Jimin, but you're not like that.“

Even though you didn't say much, his shaky exhale shows how much weight your words carry for him.

A couple of moments pass in silence between you two and you almost think he has fallen asleep when you feel the warmth of his hand engulfing your own.

“Thank you.” His words pass as a whisper. “For having my back in this.” 

Even in the dim light emitting from your bedside lamp, you can see the sincerity in his eyes as he gifts you a grateful smile and you can’t help but join in as you give his hand a slight squeeze. “Of course. As your fake girlfriend, that's kind of my job,” you reason, not thinking much of it.

His brows crease. “Yes. Your job,” he mutters.

He doesn’t say anything after that and neither do you but you still can't switch off. There's still something that keeps you awake. It’s an intrusive thought for sure and you’d be damned to give into that, but it won’t let you rest. 

You can't see from your position right now whether he's still awake or not, and you're too nervous to check. But you don't think you can sleep if you leave it as it is. 

“Jimin?” you whisper. Your teeth dig into your lower lip in agony.

You hope he doesn't hear you — or that maybe he's already asleep. You tried and that should be enough to silence your thoughts. After all, it's not as if you can just wake him up—

“Yes?”

Not only is he not sleeping yet, he sounds as awake as you feel. You nervously nibble on your bottom lip for a moment while you try to weigh up what you're about to do. 

You can feel his questioning gaze on you even before you lift your head, but it is ten times more penetrating the momentyour eyes meet. He is lying on his back with his head turned towards you, dark eyes looking up at you expectantly.

The little bedside lamp doesn't exactly provide a lot of light, but it's just enough for you to see the outline of his face. You carefully lift your hand and place it on his cheek before leaning forward without a comment. Out of uncertainty, you stop in front of his face and reconsider as your lips hover over his for a second. 

He must know by now what your intention is and even though he is anticipating your next move, he isn't moving a muscle, once again not wanting to accidentally rush you into anything you might not want.

You can feel his breath on your lips and figure that if you've already come this far anyway, there's no point in turning back now so you quietly close the gap and let your lips meet in a gentle kiss. 

Despite the circumstances of neither one of you being drunk or in public right now, it doesn’t feel awkward at all. It's quite the opposite. 

It goes against both, your principles and your ego to be the one to orchestrate a kiss, especially if it's a kiss that has no meaning in the course of your deal. And even though you feel the heat shooting into your cheeks and the tips of your ears, you don't care.

At first, your shared kiss is sweet and innocent, completely different from the one before, but no less breathtaking - literally. He lets you take the lead but kisses you back just as eagerly. 

His lips fit perfectly with yours and at some point, you completely lose track of time and instead lose yourself in your kiss.

You don't know how much time passes, but you are the one who eventually breaks away from him. Or at least you try to, but you only have a momentary chance to catch your breath because Jimin isn't having it, quickly lifting himself up and using his right elbow to keep himself upright while his other hand finds its place at the back of your neck to glide you back into him. 

His lips are back on yours in no time, your kiss turning more eager now that he’s taking control and it’s not long after that you feel his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You grant him and in no time, your kiss that was so innocent just a minute ago turns into a full-on make-out session in your bed. 

It gives you flashbacks of the night at the bonfire. The only difference is that neither of you is drunk this time. A small but possibly significant difference depending on how far you’re willing to take it this time.

You’re already too far gone when the next thing you notice is how he swaps your positions in a simple move, making you the one lying underneath him.

Originally it was supposed to be nothing more than a simple kiss. It felt like the right thing to do after the awful night and the little heart-to-heart you two had but now that he has you under him it doesn’t feel that bad at all…

He’s letting his hand wander all over your curves and the moment you move yours just a little from around his neck is when you notice he’s not even wearing a shirt.

The little fucker snuck into your bed without having the decency to at least wear something. Although, since you practically forced him to spend the night with you without him having any clothes here, you can’t judge him for that.

He lets his hands wander under your shirt, when he realizes you're not backing down. The tips of his fingers leave hot trails on your skin, his own skin burning under your touch as you glide your hands down his chest.

Your fingertips linger at the level of his navel for a while, anxious to go lower only to be rejected again. You don’t think you can endure that humiliation again, especially not while being sober.

But any doubts are gone the moment he takes the initiative and bucks his hips into you, immediately making you moan in pleasure when you feel yourself getting more aroused. 

It's not enough for you though and you feel yourself getting more eager by every passing second. You eagerly let your hips sway and press your center against his crotch, moaning as you rub against him.

His hands grab your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh so hard you think he might leave bruises as he tries to bring you even closer. 

Since everything seems to move too slowly for your liking, you’re just about to take your top off, when he suddenly untangles himself from you with a low curse.

“You’re not doing this out of pity, are you?” 

His voice doesn't sound judgmental or disappointed in any way, but it's unmistakably important to him that whatever happens, happens because you want it to.

Still in a daze, you need to find your words so you only shake your head. And you don’t even have the time to wait for his reaction before you’re chasing his lips again. Unfortunately, it does not suffice for more than a short peck before he breaks away again, even making a desperate whine escape you.

You don't even manage to be ashamed of how obviously you want him when the way he looks at you right now tells you he feels the same way.

He chews his lip while his eyes pierce you, looking for even the smallest detail that you might not be in your right mind but not able to find anything.

So he slowly inches closer again, captivated by the the way you let your tongue glide over your lips to wet them and he smirks. 

“And you’re not going to pretend you don’t remember anything tomorrow morning?”

You roll your eyes, annoyed he can’t stop teasing you about that incident but not in the mood for any more bickering when he could do so much more with that mouth of his.

“Depends on whether you make it worth remembering,” you smirk.

It was meant as a joke, but it probably came across more as a challenge the way his eyes darken at your words. And it gets you excited. 

He gets to it immediately, finally taking off your top in a hurry and locking your lips again in a heated kiss as his hands wander further down to take the rest of your clothes off. 

You are now lying completely naked underneath him, which makes your heart beat a little faster. As if he senses your nervousness, he takes it slow, trailing his kisses from the corner of your mouth to your cheek and further down to your neck where he lets his tongue run over your skin in a gentle circle that has your eyes roll back into your head. 

But there's still something in the back of your mind that won't let you relax completely, and you need to get it off your chest.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, yeah?”

“Of course not,” he rasps in between light nips to your neck that would have you weak in your knees if you weren’t already lying down.

It seems like this confirmation is the last thing you need, to let go completely, with no second-guessing thoughts left. Jimin seems to notice too, feeling how your body melts against his when he lets his kisses trail further down your neck to your chest. 

“Man, you’re gorgeous.”

Him praising you like that makes your stomach flip, but it also raises a few new concerns. Since you need to keep your relationship as platonic as possible, compliments that affect you like that are dangerous territory. To avoid spoiling the atmosphere, you remain silent, hoping things will stay that way.

Jimin starts gently. He places kisses around one of your hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth, sucking and nibbling until you respond with a breathless moan. He then moves on to the other one, repeating his actions until he’ssatisfied with your reaction. 

You’re trembling at this point, squirming beneath him to try and get any kind of friction against the heat between your legs - the only part of your body he hasn’t touched yet. 

The little whines and moans that escape your throat intensify when his hand replaces his mouth on your breast, squeezing it while his other hand slowly wanders down your body. He begins with just two fingers pressing down your soaked center. 

Jimin is considerate and gentle, allowing you time to relax and become accustomed to his touch. However, he also gets straight to the point and fortunately does not attempt to tease you initially and you're very grateful for that. 

His thumb brushes over your clit in slow circles finally releasing some of the pressure that has built up by now, letting your moans intensify with every stroke as you feel his pointer and middle finger circle your entrance. 

Feeling how ready you are to take not one but two fingers without much preparatory work, he stops, raising a questioning eyebrow with a mischievous glint in his eyes. But you interrupt him before he has the chance to comment on it.

“Don’t open your mouth and ruin it,“ you warn.

Jimin lets out a breathy laugh, swallows whatever he was about to say, and then dives back into kissing you hard while pushing them in, in one swift motion, making you moan from the surprise and the pleasure engulfing you all at once.

He moves them in and out a couple of times, picking up the pace as he does so all while letting his thumb take care of your aking nub.

Your hips begin to roll upwards, trying to fulfill the need to feel as much of him as possible. You don't even care anymore about how desperate you come off as long as he gives you what you need. And it's not like he isn't affected at all. 

His teeth dig so hard into his lower lip that he might just be drawing blood by now while his eyes wander over your entire body in a desperate attempt to burn this image so deeply into his brain that he will never forget it again. 

He takes a moment to watch his fingers glide in and out of you, wandering up higher over your smooth stomach up to your perfectly shaped breasts pushing up whenever you arch your back to meet his thrusts, and finally your contorted face. Eyes closed, lips parted, allowing every little moan to escape, just how he likes it.

He dives back in to kiss you again, capturing all the beautiful sounds you make along the way. But he doesn't have the chance to enjoy it for long when you break the kiss soon after.

“I'm ready now,“ you gasp.

Jimin eagerly nods, jumping out of bed to clumsily remove his boxers and get something from his jeans. You don't have to ask him to know what he's getting, but you still can't help but wonder...

“You came prepared?” 

He only looks over at you briefly before concentrating on opening the pack and putting on the condom, very careful not to keep you waiting for too long.

“I always come prepared,“ he affirms. “The way you're always hitting on me… phew,” he jokes, rolling his eyes before he sends a wink your way.

You almost regret letting it get this far in the first place, and you're afraid you'll backtrack if his mouth isn't busy with you again soon and more words come out.

“Just make it quick. I’m losing more and more interest the longer I hear you talk.”

You hear him laugh, but just a blink of an eye later, he's back, and he doesn't let a moment pass before he eagerly kisses you again, his thumb lightly pressing your clit again. A moan escapes your throat before you can suppress it, and he uses it to dip his tongue inside, brushing it against yours.

Not wasting any time, he nudges your thighs apart and positions himself between your legs, guiding his cock up and down your slit a few times until he positions it right at your slick opening.  

“Do you need me to prep you some more or are you good?“ he groans, feeling the warmth of your heat consume him.

“Yea, yea, just put it in,“ you whisper hurriedly, physically and mentally unable to wait any longer.

“Wow, could you be any more romantic?“ Jimin chuckles, a playful pout forming on his lips, mischief shining in his eyes. 

“I don’t want romance. I want you inside of me.“ 

“I’m sensitive, baby, I need to be charmed. Say please?“ He grins childishly, knowing exactly what he's doing.

Oh, he's having so much fun right now, although he knows you're going to make him pay for that one way or another. But he can't help it.

Not only does it turn him on like crazy, but seeing you be so desperate for him is something he knows will never happen again so he needs to enjoy it as much as he can.

“Jimin,“ you whine, partly upset and partly frantic, as he hums in acknowledgment.

The way his cock is sliding with ease through your folds while he waits for you to give in is taking a toll on him too. He is good at restraint and self-control and it would be more than embarrassing to be the first to give in in this game he has started but he might just need to if you don't soon.

You sigh, fists clenching your sheets for all the wrong reasons. Why is this man always like this in such inappropriate situations?

Clenching your jaw you look at him with the deepest scowl while mustering the sweetest voice possible. “Jimin, please please please fuck me. I need you and I can’t wait any longer, please.“

And that's all it takes for him to crumble completely. “Good girl. How could I say no to that.“

Once more, he positions himself right at your entrance and starts moving his hips forward. Anytime but now, you'd be embarrassed by how easily he's able to slide in, but your head is empty, mind numb the moment he's finally fully inside, filling you up.

You don't need time to adapt and that's probably clear to both of you, because the very next moment he starts pumping in and out with such hard and fast movements, you almost see stars. You push your hips up against him, trying to meet his thrusts, your hands clinging tightly to his arms while moan after moan escapes your lips.

There's not a single thought in your head. His rough moans fill your ears as he momentarily slows his strokes to a sensual grind as he leans down to suck on your nipples, causing you to throw your head back, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. 

He talks a lot of pretentious bullshit but when it comes to this, you must admit he has the goods to back it up.

You feel yourself getting closer with every delicious stroke he gives you, the tip of his cock reaching the perfect spot again and again. But you need more.

“Harder,“ you pant, digging your nails deeper into the flesh of his arms. 

Jimin hears you loud and clear, following your instructions almost a bit too eagerly which suggests that he needs it just as much. Still fully inside you, he gently lets his hands brush down to your knees grabs the back of your knees, and pushes your legs upwards. 

The new angle allows his cock to reach even deeper, making the both of you moan when he picks up speed again. One of his hands is gripping your thigh tightly, surely leaving bruises, while he moves the other down to your clit, teasing it while he pounds into you as hard as he can.

“Goddamn,“ he gasps while he watches you squirm under him. There is little in life that Jimin takes so seriously. But even though there are more than enough opportunities to tease you verbally right now, he can't concentrate on anything but eliciting more of those needy moans from you.

He's close as well. Luckily for him, it only takes a few more thrusts and he feels you tighten around him. As a response, he rubs your clit faster which eventually pushes you over the edge as more and more loud, whiny moans just spill out of you.

Your pussy lazily pulsating around his cock while you slowly come down is what it takes for him to let go as well. He feels his balls tighten instantly before his dick finally blows, making him tumble over and groan into the crook of your neck. 

You don't stay like this for long, only waiting for you both to come down from your highs before Jimin lazily rolls off you. 

Pushing some damp strands out of his face, he can't stop himself from grinning contentedly. When he turns his head to see your expression, he notices you staring at the ceiling, nibbling your lip in deep thought. You do look satisfied and there is no trace of regret, thankfully. But there is a trace of concern that emanates from you.

Jimin's expression softens, his hand slowly reaching for yours which makes you look at him as well. 

You both exchange subtle smiles, silently agreeing not to worry about anything until the morning. And you don't. You sleep like a baby.

tagged: @ggukkieland | @ttaeby | @rkvi | @cuteipat | @pjiminslove | @mawwnsterr | @aamalaaa | @spideyxxboi | @lil-sracha | @katsbqbe | @bex-92br | @natalie-rdr | @canarystwin | @wespers-jaan | @bangtanxcoffee | @bri-mal | @so-kou | @lonleycoffee | @rjsmochii | @kiwiaroha | @chimchimmarie | @scoupshawt | @xmochiloverx | @kristinkristinuk | @thejiminshieffect | @yes-fangirl-things | @cuteinjapanese | @leticiaesteveslp | @jkkkkkay | @miss-rainy-days | @bangtan4everr | @i-never-post-but-i-am-here | @dumdaradumdaradum | @thesmeraldogirl | @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter one

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

AO3LINK NEXT

"You're in denial, you could just say you didn't want me anymore. But you prefer to pretend that..." You throw his favorite book out the window like it means nothing. 'Cause now it doesn't mean.

"You can't blame me, our romance should have ended a long time ago. But you and I..." Yoongi seems almost too serious saying this. Do you mean nothing to him?

"You and me what?" You respond from the balcony of your apartment. Luckily your neighbors aren't too curious to know why you're yelling at your ex-lover.

"You know I can't shout that here, some fans might be here." Poor little thing, at that moment you wonder where the brave man is who asked you to embark on this relationship even though you knew your worlds would never be the same.

"I thought the whole point of paying a lot of money to live in an apartment far from the big city and known for its discretion would be being able to yell at you at two in the morning." You don't care if he thinks he's going to leave you without anything more or less, and that you're going to come out of this situation smiling, he should have found someone else to have sex with.

"If you would let me come up, we could talk like adults." He speaks subtly with an impressive poker face. If he stops being a musician, perhaps he could try a career as an actor or a gambler.

"Like adults? I'll be waiting for the other adult to arrive." You say throwing some clothes that are in your apartment that belong to him.

"Like you're being mature about all this. Damn!" One of his belongings ends up breaking near his feet. In fright he lets out several swear words, you luckily end up laughing.

"You break up with me over the phone and I have to be mature. I gave up part of my freedom to be yours. And look what I get in return." Anger took over you initially but now all you can do is try to keep from crying.

"Y/N. Let me in, so we can talk. I can see you almost crying from here." You smile lightly as you feel tears fall down your cheek. What a humiliation.

"If you cared about me you would have had the decency to say that you wanted to finish it the last time you were here." His cowardice can only be explained by his fear of having to do this in person.

"I couldn't. I didn't..." That was exactly what was left of the two of you. An awkward silence and resentment.

"Do you know how frustrating it is not being able to curse your name or tell someone you broke my heart?" You say that sobbing. What a tragedy it is that has made you sentimental now.

"Just because we don't work anymore doesn't mean I don't love you." You look at him and for a moment you feel more sorry for him than for yourself.

"If this is how you love someone. I'm sorry to inform you that you don't know love." Ironically it makes you smile. Maybe this is all his fault, not yours.

"Love..." It's very painful to see the man you've been involved with for the last year, call you that and not be able to respond.

"I'll send the rest of your things to the company. Don't worry, I won't expose you any more than I already have. Now get out of here, you and your fake love." Using one of his songs as the grand finale was a majestic act. Crying yourself to sleep, unfortunately, is not so majestic.

Two Months Later...

"You were the only person I thought would understand my situation. Try not to judge me but I need an opinion." You say looking Namjoon in the eyes. You got really close to him during your secret relationship with Yoongi.

"Is it too big a secret?" He asks entering his new home. A home where you swore you would start over.

"You tell me..." You say, opening your coat and revealing your stomach.

"Did you call me here because you gained weight after the breakup or do you have worms?" Namjoon asks and you smile nervously. Until you shake your head denying.

"Let's say the weight gain is due to something prior to the breakup..." You try not to say the word. Maybe the situation will go away if you don't name it.

"You are pregnant?" He named his current situation. Now it means it's really happening.

"Surprise!" You say trying to liven up the situation but you know you're fucked. Namjoon seems really surprised. As soon as he assimilates the information, he hugs you. You knew you could lean on the friendship you two have.

[clumsy-jiminie]

"Fine. Just for tonight and we never speak of it again."

"Like I'm gonna speak to you after this."

"Is this you promising to actually leave me alone? I might need to this this in writing."

ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ | ᴘᴊᴍ

↠ ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪɴ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ. ↞

"we're not lovers, we're just strangers with the same damn hunger to be touched, to be loved, to feel anything at all."

- ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ, ʜᴀʟꜱᴇʏ & ʟᴀᴜʀᴇɴ ᴊᴀᴜʀᴇɢᴜɪ -

↣ summary :: Kiara Smith had dreamed of true love for as long as she could remember. from being obsessed with the Disney princesses who found affection in the strangest situations to dressing up as a bride from kindergarten to fourth grade. it was the only thing she ever truly desired, so much so that a pleasant smile and kind eyes could have her smitten in seconds. right when she thought she found the one, a chance encounter with Park Jimin—the city’s famously perfect fuck boy with a smile so warm and a heart of ice—has her feeling quite the opposite. he knocks her off her axis and derails her life as she knows it, yet the universe seems to have another plan for the two.

↣ rating :: 18+

↣ genre :: fluff, angst, smut, e2l, slow burn

↣ pairing :: business owner!jimin x fem!artist!oc ft. taehyung

↣ status :: ongoing ✍🏽

↣ notes :: this is something I've been working on here and there for a couple of years now, and I have fallen in love with kiara and jimin's relationship. their banter and how they bounce off of each other is so funny sometimes. these have been my favorite characters to write right next to broken codes. I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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if you have any questions, comments, or concerns PLEASE don't hesitate to message me or send me an ask! my inbox is always open. 💖

© all rights reserved @clumsy-jiminie 2024

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪx

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇ

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ

↣ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.4 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Drinking, Swearing, Fighting, multiple uses of the middle finger, some medical talk, Smoking,.........SMUT, making out, heavy petting, dirty talk, protected sex (WRAP IT UP), cum eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral (f.receiving), cowgirl, JK a little obsessed with your body (squint), somewhat pathetic jk? yeah its really hot and intense just trust me, like the tension is so.... Oh it all sorts of confusing for everyone's feelings. This chapter had ME giggling ❥word-count: 15.1k (hehehe) ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter ❥Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

You had hoped—no—prayed, that your gas station encounter with Jungkook would be a one off encounter. You had pushed it from your mind and tucked it away because it probably would be the only time it would happen. It has been kicking up old memories these days. Old frustrations and annoyances as well. 

Many stories for another time, but college was on your mind now. How everything played out… you still to this day have no idea what set Jungkook off so bad. 

Sighing, you stirred your noodles in your ramen cup, eyes tracing little circles as you zoned out in thought. This side of the hospital was quieter, and you enjoyed the break room here. A small, cozy spot where you could actually hear yourself think. You were so lost in memories that you didn’t notice someone else had walked in.

“Y/N?”

You blinked and looked up, nearly dropping your chopsticks. Dr. Kim Seokjin stood beside you, his tall frame practically radiating energy. His white coat was open, slightly wrinkled as if he’d been speed-walking for hours, and he was flashing you the kind of grin that could probably be seen from space.

“Dr. Kim,” you said, straightening up, a polite smile forming. You’d wanted to talk with him yesterday, but schedules had kept you both busy. “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning.” He laughed and held a hand out to you in a theatrical manner. “I know we’ve met before but thought I should reintroduce myself. Properly this time!” 

“Oh, no problem, sir. I feel like I know everything about you already, the others have been filling me in.” You took his hand, and his grip was warm and reassuring, with just a hint of that showmanship flair he couldn’t seem to hide.

“And I’ve been seeing your work in the charts,” he said, barely pausing for breath. “Your attention to detail is phenomenal! I’m really sorry I haven’t been around to welcome you properly! Vic’s thrilled to have you up here—I get why,” He puttered around the small room to the counters, taking an apple. “And listen, my office is always open if you need anything. Anything. Or just go and pester Yoongi,” he added with a gleam in his eye. “He needs a good pestering every now and then.”

You laugh, nodding. “Oh I have no issue bothering Yoongi.” 

“Perfect, you'll do great up here.” Tossing the apple up and catching it smoothly, he began to take a few small steps back out of the room, “Wish I could stay and chat more, but surgery calls. But hey, we’ll talk later this week. I promise!”

Right then, he bumped backward straight into Vic, who was stepping into the room with a look that could cut through any excuse Seokjin could come up with. She gave him a once-over, crossing her arms and tilting her head.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to surgery, Dr. Kim?” She asked, her voice dry as sandpaper.

Seokjin’s face twisted into a pout. “Wow, not even a good morning, Dr. Kim, you miracle-worker? Or maybe, how was your life-changing surgery last night?” He took an exaggerated bite out of his apple, grinning at her with a mischievous gleam.

Vic rolled her eyes but humored him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Good morning, Dr. Kim, miracle-worker. How was your life-changing surgery last night? Now can you get to the surgical floor before they decide to operate on you instead?”

“Fine,” Seokjin continued to pout as he made his way out of the room, calling back. “I’ll have you know I saved at least seven lives last night!” 

“Great, now go save seven more!” Vic let out an exasperated laugh, closing the break room door. You laughed a little bit taking another bite of your ramen. Vic pulled up a chair in front of you, slumping down with a heavy sigh. 

“He certainty makes your life easy, huh?” You tease Vic, and she laughs. 

“Oh, definitely,” Vic replied, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her fond smile. “But he’s a good guy, even with all the theatrics. A great surgeon.”

“I believe it.” You said. Even though it was only your second day up here you had already heard so many good things. You knew Seokjin somewhat but now you felt like you really knew him—even though you had maybe two conversations. 

Vic leaned on her hand, watching you with a glint of curiosity. “Please tell me you have an interesting story or something to distract me with. I’m about to lose my mind doing the same rounds all day.”

You snort, dragging out a long sigh for effect., “I ran into Jungkook last night.” 

Her eyes lit up, and she sat up straight. “Oh really?”

“Turns out he works close to where I live. We bumped into each other at the store by my place.” You scrunch your face up in mild annoyance. 

“Booty call on demand. That’s convenient.” Vic laughs to herself but can tell you aren’t so amused. “Sorry, so was it weird?” 

You paused, “A little? He… wanted to talk about it.” 

“Oh, interesting.” Vic scooted her chair closer to you, like you were going to reveal some big secret. 

So, you told her everything—not that there was much to tell, but Vic was hanging on every word as if it were the best gossip she'd heard all week. You admitted you were hoping it was a one-off encounter; the idea of walking a couple of extra blocks just to avoid the place was tempting.

“How fun!” Vic leaned back in her seat and rested her arms behind her head. 

You roll your eyes, “You and I have different definitions of fun.”

Vic smirked, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Every time you guys meet, it’s like God flips a coin. Fight or... you know.” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, her grin widening as you kicked her ankle under the table.

“Stop.” You stood up, mostly eager to escape her relentless teasing.

You pushed the thought of Jungkook out of your mind, spending the rest of the day diving into your rounds. By the time you finished, exhaustion hit you full force, but you decided you needed a quick pick-me-up. Maybe a small snack and an energy drink for tomorrow would do you some good. So you stopped by the convenience store near your apartment again today, hoping for a quiet, uneventful errand.

Well that was up until–

“Oh god damn it,” you muttered under your breath, spotting Jungkook at the end of one of the aisles. He noticed you at the same moment, blinking as if the universe had just pulled a fast one on him. 

“You’re kidding right?” Jungkook whispered into the air, looking up to the ceiling like he was talking to something else. Of course you would be here again, he had purposefully decided to show up at a different time in the hopes he wouldn’t run into you again but here you were. 

You quickly grabbed your snack, brushing past him without a word, darting to the drinks for a swift escape. Jungkook watched for a second before going back to his shopping, both of you clearly trying to act unaffected. After rushing to the counter, you checked out and slipped out of the store as quickly as you’d arrived. Behind you, Jungkook let out a quiet sigh, relieved, mentally vowing to stick to later store runs to avoid the awkwardness.

But the universe, it seemed, had other plans. The next day, the same scenario unfolded.

As you walked out of the store later the next evening, your steps faltered when you saw him entering. His expression mirrored your own—the wide-eyed disbelief, followed by something more annoyed and inpatient.

“Oh, Jesus.” Jungkook muttered, glancing heavenward as if to say seriously, again?

Your eyes narrowed, your disbelief morphing quickly into irritation. “Stalking me now, Jungkook?” Without missing a beat, you bumped your shoulder into his as you passed. Deliberately harder than necessary.

Jungkook snorted, throwing you an unimpressed glance. “You aren’t even worth the breath it would take to come up with an insult,” he muttered, turning away as if the encounter bored him.

You looked back, a mocking smile playing on your lips. “Disappointing,” you said, tone dripping with satisfaction. “Your comebacks are getting lazy.”

Jungkook just went inside, not even bothering with a response. He couldn’t help but think three times in the same week? This would be the most you and Jungkook had seen each in such a short period in five years. What kind of joke was this? Was this some kind of punishment for your ill-advised night together? Did the two of you tip some kind of karmic scale somewhere so you were doomed to keep running into each other? Whatever it was, Jungkook could only hope that this was the last time. 

Except it didn’t end there, cause the next evening–

You rounded the corner of an aisle only to freeze, spotting Jungkook standing by the drink fridge again, his back to you. He turned just as you did, his face falling into an exasperated glare. “Okay, now I really need a restraining order,” you said, folding your arms with an annoyed sigh.

“Funny, I’ve been nice enough to come at different times every day. Maybe I need the restraining order.” He pressed his tongue against his cheek, clearly just as irked. He yanked a drink from the fridge with unnecessary force, glancing at you as if daring you to counter him.

You shook your head, unimpressed. “I live in this neighborhood, so if anyone should be giving up their convenience store privileges, it’s you.”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh, stepping closer. “Maybe it’s fate’s way of telling you to find a new place.”

You scoffed, holding his gaze. “Please. If anything, fate’s just telling you that I was here first. So maybe you’re the one who needs to find a new store.”

“You’re not nearly as scary as you think you are, you know that?” He smirked, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Keep testing me, and you might find out just how scary I can be.” Grabbing your drink, you attempted to brush past him, but he shifted just enough to subtly stick his foot out. The move was barely noticeable—until you tripped, stumbling forward. You whipped around, eyes blazing with white-hot rage, only to see Jungkook with a look of pure satisfaction, like he’d just won some unspoken game.

“Oh, whoops.” he said, his voice dripping with childish amusement. Jungkook never thought in his grown age he would be intentionally tripping someone else, but he was always surprised when it came to your interactions.

“Seriously?” you hissed, glaring at him.

Jungkook shrugged, clearly unfazed as he made his way toward the counter, all too pleased with himself. “Careful, wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You let out a scoff, not caring about the stares from the other customers as you muttered under your breath, “Fuck you.”

Jungkook looked back with an infuriatingly casual grin, then quickly left with a wave before you had the chance to retaliate. He was out of the store and gone before you could fully process the whole interaction, leaving you fuming and oddly rattled, wondering just how far this little war would go.

The tension between you two was unmistakably intensifying, each encounter adding to the growing irritation. Determined to avoid him, you decided to go to the store way earlier than usual the next day. You’d planned it all out in your head, you scoped out the store through the window, even checked up and down the street for any sign of him. It had appeared to be all clear. All you needed was some ibuprofen so this should be quick. Confident, you headed on inside, grabbed what you needed and checked out, hoping to finally break the streak of unfortunate coincidences.

But, of course, fate was not done testing you.

As you stepped out of the store, bag in hand, you glanced left and there he was. This time, he had a friend with him, chatting casually as they strolled down the street. Jungkook spotted you at the same moment, his face shifting from casual amusement to a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

A laugh escaped your lips despite yourself, part amusement and part resignation. The absurdity of it was almost impressive at this point. Jungkook’s friend noticed the interaction, giving him a curious look. Jungkook just sighed, visibly exhausted by the constant run-ins. Now Jimin got to experience this chance encounter.

At this point, you’d completely abandoned any pretense of politeness. Without breaking stride, you lifted both hands, middle fingers raised, and started walking backward up the street, smirking as you saw the irritation flicker across Jungkook’s face.

“Real mature.” Jungkook called, shaking his head.

You shrugged, calling back, “I go high when you go low.” With that, you turned on your heel and continued down the street. Jungkook sighed, grateful this encounter hadn’t escalated further.

Jimin watched you walk away, eyebrows raised. “You gonna explain what that was all about?”

“That,” Jungkook muttered, heading into the store, “was a usual encounter with Y/N.”

“Oh… oh.” Jimin nodded, connecting the dots. He and Jungkook had been friends for ages, so although he hadn’t met you before, he’d definitely heard tales of you—and now he was seeing it all firsthand. “You really weren’t joking.”

Jungkook snorted, grabbing a snack. “I couldn’t make this up if I tried.”

Jungkook began to give Jimin a quick rundown of the week’s events as they walked back to the office after getting a few things. Jungkook describes each encounter more ridiculous than the last, his annoyance apparent. Jimin’s grin only grew wider with every detail, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Wait, so you’ve really been running into each other all week?”

“Like clockwork,” Jungkook muttered, exasperated. “It’s like she knows exactly when I’ll be here.”

“Well if you go missing, I’ll know where to start looking for you.” Jimin joked and Jungkook brushed him off. 

It wasn’t a joke. If Jungkook did go missing you probably would be the first suspect. You weren’t too far off from wanting to strangle him usually so it would be justified. 

Now it was Saturday and you were back at work so you decided to just avoid the store altogether today, no way you could run into him if you just didn't show up. Plus tonight you would be going out. Ash and you planned to go to an emo night and you couldn’t wait, it was your reward for making it through this week for sure.

Still, you found your thoughts drifting to Jungkook’s irritatingly smug face as you went about your work. You were so distracted that you barely noticed Ji-eun watching you, a touch of concern in her eyes.

“You okay, kid?” Ji-eun asked, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts. She tilted her head, studying you.

You blinked, realizing you’d zoned out completely. “Sorry,” you said with a sheepish smile as you noted her blood pressure on your tablet. “I got so distracted I didn’t even realize you were talking.”

She laughed, waving a hand as if brushing away your apology. “Oh, don’t be silly. I was just rambling about my kids anyway.” She gave you a knowing look. “But I can tell something’s weighing on you.”

You were a little taken aback by her question, “Oh it’s just personal things.” 

“Well I’ve got loads of advice if you need some. I’ve nothing better to do these days.” She gestured around at the obvious surroundings, she must have been getting bored as even though its only been a few days. The room had slowly been filling up with crochet projects, the corpes of the failed pieces had piled up in the corner of the room. “Come on, you can tell me while you finish up.” 

You chuckled, typing a few notes into your tablet. “It’s complicated… there’s this guy.”

Ji-eun cuts you off with a knowing smile, “Ain't it always a guy.” 

You laugh but shake your head, “Not with me usually. It’s also not like that… this guy is seriously just–” You paused, your mouth in a tight line and your shoulders rising just at the thought of Jungkook, “an absolute nightmare.”

“Nightmare? He sounds intense. What did he do to earn that title?” Ji-eun asked, her eyes wide with amused curiosity.

“Now that is a much longer and complicated story.” You sigh, continuing to move around her, beginning to inspect her skin. 

“Again. I have all the time in the world.” Ji-eun really was desperate for a good story, and honestly you were a little desperate to lay it all out on the table again. 

 You found yourself more willing to spill the details than you expected. “We knew each other in college but had a big blowout. Then ever since, we fight and argue and it sometimes borders on physical altercations. I’ve never met anyone who can get under my skin like he does. But we ended up as the maid of honor and best man at our friends’ wedding, and I thought maybe, just maybe, we’d be able to be civil.”

“And?” she prompted, amused.

You shook your head, moving to examine her skin as part of her routine. “We just fought again. Normally, I can avoid him in most situations, but this week? I’ve run into him every single day. It’s like he’s popping up everywhere.”

“Sounds like the universe is really having a field day with the two of you.” She grinned at you childishly.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you checked Ji-eun’s arms and made sure there were no signs of discoloration or swelling. “Feels like it. I keep turning corners, and there he is, just… waiting to ruin my day.”

Ji-eun’s smile softened as she watched you, nodding as you recounted the drama. “Sounds exhausting,” she said gently. “Sometimes, we end up running into people like that for a reason though. Especially because it sounds like there is major unfinished business here.”

You sighed, moving down to check the circulation in her legs, grateful that she didn’t seem to mind your rambling. “Oh, there’s a reason all right—to remind me that my patience has limits.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Believe me, I’ve had my share of people who made my blood boil. But, you know, it made me realize that some people test us because they see something in us. Sometimes, even if it’s frustrating, it’s a chance to learn something.”

“I don’t think there’s anything he sees in me other than a chance to annoy me. It’s been five years of this so if I was supposed to learn something I would hope I would have figured it out by now.” You note a few things in her chart. Ji-eun hadn’t been showing really any signs of fatigue lately but you could tell that she was shaking a little bit when holding up her legs. 

Ji-eun tilted her head, her tone thoughtful as she continued. “Sometimes, we’re put in front of the same person over and over because it’s life’s way of pushing us toward something or to be better. And that doesn’t have to mean romance—it could mean resolving something. Or maybe finding a way to make peace? Maybe this is the universe saying hey, heres you opportunity to fix everything?”

You scoffed softly, checking her pulse and nodding as it came back steady. “I don’t think peace is anywhere in our future.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Just don’t let him control your day-to-day. One lesson I’ve learned is to live for what makes you happy, not what keeps you frustrated. You don’t have to let him have so much power over your mood. He’s just a stupid boy after all. Sometimes, it’s just about saying to yourself, He’s not worth it.”

You considered her words, hesitating as you updated her notes on your tablet. She was right; it was draining to have Jungkook on your mind constantly, even if it was just anger. Maybe part of what frustrated you was how much headspace he took up, how he seemed to affect your peace.

“I guess I hadn’t realized how much he had been ruining my mood.” You let out a long dragged out sigh, “You are pretty good with the advice.”

“I know!” She flashed you a big cheesy grin again, immediately improving your mood. “I don’t have any daughters so it’s nice to grant what wisdom I have to someone else. About boys and other things.”

 You finish up with Ji-eun and you continue about the rest of your day in a much better mood. She was absolutely right, Jungkook was an idiot and you should not let him ruin your mood. After all you finally were going to spend a fun evening out with Ash. So you picked yourself up and pushed through the rest of the day to get to this evening. Ash would be coming over since she wanted to steal some clothes and make up for you. 

The two of you would be joining Hoseok for an emo night at the club you went too for Melanie's Bachelorette party. You had really been looking forward too it all week. It would be your reward for surviving Jungkook. 

Once you made it home, Ash had already arrived and was waiting outside. She made herself very comfortable shuffling through your closet like she lived here herself. You had already picked out an outfit aside so now you were really just waiting on Ash to make some decisions. In her rummaging you decided to call Melanie, filling her in on your eventful week with satan's spawn. 

“I think you’re being just a tiny bit dramatic,” Melanie said, her voice crackling through the phone as you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone. Namjoon and Melanie were still on their honeymoon but Namjoon wasn’t feeling good so she had a few minutes to talk. 

“I don’t think shopping at the same convenience store is going to kill you,” Melanie continued, the patience in her tone borderline condescending. 

“You don’t know that!” You protested, “For all I know, he could hex the place. Next time I walk in, bam! Up in flames.”

“Highly unlikely,” she said, her voice dry.

“I mean,” Ash pipes up from inside your closet, having pulled out a dress only to toss it back in. “You can’t completely rule it out, though.”

“See? Ash gets it.”

Melanie sighed. “Fine. If you go back to the convenience store and spontaneously combust, I will issue a formal statement in your obituary that I was wrong.”

“It’s the least you could do,” you said, throwing in an exaggerated sniffle for dramatic effect. You could practically hear Melanie’s eye-roll through the phone.

“Still, it’s kind of weird that you’ve lived there this long and never run into each other.” she muses.

Ash agrees from your closet. “Jungkook’s been working at that firm for like two years. It’s shocking your paths haven’t crossed.”

“It’s a sick, twisted joke is what it is,” you huff, folding a pair of jeans that Ash discarded. “Can’t believe he tripped me.”

“Again, dramatic,” Melanie muttered. 

“Yeah yeah enough about me. When do you guys get back? I need some Melanie time.” This was probably the longest stretch of period you had gone without seeing Melanie. You had been attached at the hip since you met basically.

“Tomorrow night, we will be in super late. Someone wanted to be back to work on Monday.” Her tone clearly pointed towards Namjoon. You let out a snort. It’s been two weeks since the wedding so Namjoon was probably itching to get back to his routine. 

Ash came out of your closet with a dress and leather jacket combo, “How does this look?” 

You think for a moment, “If you accessorize it I think it will be great.” Which you had plenty of accessories to dress it up just right. You also needed her to decide because it was already late and you two needed to start getting ready. 

“I can’t believe you guys are going out without me. You must hate me.” Melanie whines on the other side of the phone and you laugh at her. 

“You are in paradise. With the love of your life,” you laugh, plopping your phone down on the bed as you slip on your outfit. “I would take that over an emo night any day.”

“No, you guys hate me,” she insists, fake-crying loudly into the phone. You and Ash exchange amused glances.

“Aw, poor baby,” Ash coos into the phone, laughing as she rummages through your jewelry box.

After some playful back-and-forth, Melanie finally hangs up, still grumbling in betrayal. You and Ash pick up the pace, now racing against the clock to get ready. Ash is better at makeup than you, so once she’s done, she helps you with a bold, modern emo look—sharp eyeliner and dark lipstick that gives a bit of edge without going full 2010s throwback.

After some last-minute touch-ups, you and Ash finally head out, both buzzing with excitement. The club is packed when you arrive, but the line moves quickly, and soon you’re slipping inside to the familiar pulse of music and flashing lights. Inside, you and Ash share a grin, already swept up in the energy of the night.

Once inside, the club is already alive with energy, dark lights and neon hues casting a moody glow over the dance floor. People are scattered around, some nodding along to the beat, others fully immersed, lost in the music. You and Ash weave your way through the crowd, searching for Hoseok.

It doesn’t take long to spot him by the bar, where he’s already ordered a round for the three of you. He’s dressed to match the night’s vibe, with dark clothes and a silver chain, looking effortlessly cool. He grins as he catches sight of you both.

“My babies! Took you long enough!” he teases, sliding the drinks over as you reach him.

“Blame Ash,” you reply, elbowing her playfully.

Ash scoffs. “Please, you’re the one who needed help with eyeliner!”

“Whatever, it’s time to actually get this party started!” Hoseok says. The three of you clink glasses, laughing as you take your first sips. The familiar taste mixes perfectly with the thrum of guitar filling the air, already pulling you into the spirit of the night.

A song Ash knew immediately filled the air of the club and Ash let out an excited yell, grabbing your hand and pulling you onto the dance floor. You barely have a moment to take another sip before she’s dragging you through the crowd, laughing all the way.

Hoseok follows, and soon the three of you are lost in the sea of people, letting the music take over. Ash throws her arms up, singing along to every word, and you find yourself joining in, laughing when you miss a lyric here or there. Hoseok, usually the smoothest of dancers, isn’t above a little head-banging, which only makes you all laugh harder.

After a while, you retreat to the edge of the dance floor, panting and grinning. Hoseok comes back with another round, passing you something sweet. The refreshing drink is exactly what you need after dancing up a storm.

“Oh, this is perfect,” you sigh, savoring the cool, sugary flavor.

Ash, fanning herself dramatically, suggests, “Let’s catch some air.” You and Hoseok nod, following her outside. The November night is brisk, and the cold air hits you like a splash of water—invigorating after the club’s stuffy heat. You take a deep breath, grateful for the moment to cool down.

As you settle into a quiet corner on the patio, mostly used by smokers, Ash turns to you. “Was that bartender from last time here?” she asks, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

You shake your head, a little disappointed. “Nope. I was hoping to see him, though! Maybe he’s just not working tonight.”

“Boo,” Hoseok pouts, placing his hands on your shoulders and giving you a playful shake. “Don’t worry, we can find you someone better.” 

“Oh yeah?” you laugh looking over your shoulder at him. 

“He does know like everyone.” Ash smirks, it was true. It was always a staple for your group outings that Hoseok always knew someone. Hoseok is a magnet for people. Outgoing and effortlessly charming, he always manages to bump into familiar faces no matter where you go.

Hoseok just shrugs with a mischievous smile. “What can I say? I’m a people person.”

“I think I’m okay.” You giggle leaning against one of the walls next to you guys. 

Hoseok does seem to have something catch his eye a little too quickly. “Don’t hate me but I’ll be right back.” 

Before either you or Ash could get a word in Hoseok hopped away over to another group that was just out of your sight. “How does he do that?” Ash laughs trying to follow him with her eyes. 

“I don’t get it either. He just loves meeting people.” You sip on your drink for a second, it giving you a much needed buzz. Hoseok definitely made sure this second drink was a little stronger than the first. 

“Oh I think he is waving us over.” Ash grabs your wrist and starts pulling you in his direction. It takes a little bobbing and weaving past other groups out here but he eventually comes into sight. Waving at the both of you with a big smile on his face from something someone said in the group. 

“Jimin!” Hoseok gestures enthusiastically as you approach. “Meet my friends Ash and Y/N!”

Jimin turns, flashing a warm smile as he extends his hand. “Nice to meet you both! Hoseok’s told me all about you.”

“Oh no,” Ash teases, shaking his hand with a stare at Hoseok. “I hope he didn’t embarrass us.”

Jimin laughs, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Only good things, I promise. You’re safe.”

As you shake his hand, something about him feels strangely familiar, though you can’t quite place it. “How do you know Hobi?”

Jimin grins, throwing an arm around Hoseok’s shoulders. “Oh, we go way, way back. I could tell you so many stories.”

“Way too many,” Hoseok chuckles, nudging him. “I don’t need them using any of those stories against me.”

“Too late,” you laugh, and the three of you share a smile.

 Just then, Hoseok’s eyes light up as he glances to the side. “Ah, there you are!” he says, breaking away from Jimin to greet someone else.

You follow his gaze, and your heart skips a beat as you spot Jungkook, striding over with his usual relaxed confidence. He was in a dark shirt with a printed ribcage on it and wore a leather jacket on top and fitting cargo pants, and really large combat boots. Definitely understanding the assignment for the theme. It takes you a second to register that it’s actually him standing there. You instinctively turn to Ash, who has her mouth wide open in shock before breaking into quiet laughter at the absurdity of your luck.

“JK!” Hoseok says warmly, pulling Jungkook into a quick hug.

Jungkook, still oblivious to you, is in mid-conversation with Hoseok when Ash’s laughter finally catches his attention. His eyes shift, first to Ash, and then they land on you. His smile fades, and you can see the disbelief setting in.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you scoff.

“What are the odds?” Jungkook's expression turns equally unimpressed. “This night just went downhill.”

“Believe me, I’m just as thrilled to see you.” you retort, crossing your arms.

Hoseok glances between the two of you, clearly caught off guard. “Wait, you guys know each other?”

Ash covers her mouth, barely containing her amusement. “Oh, they know each other all right.” Although sometimes you and Jungkook took your fights too far, Ash did find quite a bit of entertainment in them.

“Oh you’re Y/N?” Jimin piped up after noticing the draggers you and Jungkook were throwing at each other with your eyes. “This guy hasn’t shut up about you all week. I saw your theatrics yesterday. Really funny.”

Any other time you would have cringed at your public display of hatred but you were too busy focussing on Jungkook standing here. You didn’t notice it until now but he had a lip piercing. You had no idea he had a lip piercing did you? Was it fake? “Wow talking about me to your friends, it seems you really are my biggest fan aren’t you?” You say, disdain in your tone. 

Jungkook’s eyes glint with mischief. “Biggest fan? More like a spectator. Someone has to make sure you don’t take down the whole room with you.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Please. I think you’re just secretly obsessed with me. It’s kind of pathetic, actually.”

“Hey, okay, how about we reel it in.” Ash throws an arm over your shoulder, wanting to break the tension before it gets too high. You finished off your drink with some annoyance, you were just getting started.

“Yes, how about another round?” Hoseok looks around the group. Ash nods a little too enthusiastically and starts pushing you away. You were giving the death glare to Jungkook until you could no longer see him over your shoulder. Hoseok trailing close behind. 

“She’s cute, I see why you fight with her so often.” Jimin pokes Jungkooks cheek to tease him and jungkook swats his hand away. 

“It’s really not like that.”

“Weren’t you telling me the other day that you guys called a truce at that wedding you went to or something? What happened there?” Jimin folded his arms over his chest. 

“A temporary truce. Back to our normal selves now.” Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and his lighter from his pocket. Lighting up the cigarette and taking a long drag, brushing past the subject. He would find any reason to not have to talk about you anymore. 

“What did you guys do to make it work?” Jimin found his curiosity piqued the more Jungkook tried to push the subject away, Folding his arms over his chest. 

“Why so curious?” Jungkook raises his eyebrow, offering the cigarette to Jimin as a way of distraction.

“Why are you avoiding the question?” Jimin could tell Jungkook now had more to tell than he was letting on. 

“Avoiding what?” Taehyung strolled up the both of them, Jungkook and Jimin had gotten so wrapped up that they forgot they were waiting for him to arrive. Which was the whole reason they had been hanging out here at all.

“Look who finally showed up,” Jungkook says, giving Taehyung a side hug. 

“He’s avoiding my questions about Y/N,” Jimin informs Taehyung, taking another drag from the cigarette before Jungkook snatches it back.

Taehyung let out a breathy laugh, “Jesus, where can you even start with the history between these two.” 

“You just missed a sparkling encounter between them.” Jimin nodded his head inside where you had gone. Taehyung immediately perked up. 

“She’s here? Where?” Taehyung glancing around to see if he can spot you. 

“Oh so you like Y/N?” Jimin asked. 

“Oh she’s awesome.” Taehyung beamed, he really did think highly of you. Jungkook is very obviously peeved by your glowing review from Taehyung. “Oh come on, she's so sweet!”

“Interesting.” Jimin nodded, rubbing his chin. 

“More like rotten inside and out.” Jungkook mumbled, letting his annoyance bubble up. 

Taehyung bumped Jungkook's shoulder with his own, “He’s an unreliable source. She’s never been anything but wonderful to me. Oh, if only she would accept my hand.” Taehyung dramatically sighed a hand on his forehead. 

“Please I’ve never seen you commit to keeping a plant alive, let alone to another person.” Jungkook laughs. 

“True,” Taehyung grinned, knowing full well he'd probably leave with someone by the end of the night, just to add to his reputation. “But she’s gorgeous, and she’s way too good for anyone.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” Jungkook groaned, feeling his skin prickle at the mention of you.

“Oh, she really gets under your skin, huh?” Jimin smirked, clearly enjoying Jungkook’s discomfort. “I’ll have to keep this in mind.” 

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Taehyung rolled his eyes knowingly.

Jungkook tried his best to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Jimin’s interest only seemed to deepen. Jungkook could already tell this topic wouldn’t die easily, especially with Jimin's tendency to dig for juicy details.

As the night wore on the three of them eventually made it back inside and had a handful of drinks of their own. Enjoying the music, and singing along to the songs. So were you, Ash, and Hoseok. You all had basically stayed glued to the dance floor when you were not getting more drinks. Screaming at the top of your lungs and rocking out as hard as you could. Your worry about Jungkook ruining the night had melted away rather quickly with each shot you took. 

With every shot, your confidence and sense of adventure grew. You had a habit of wandering off when you got drunk, and tonight was no exception. Ash had been doing her best to keep an eye on you, fully aware of this tendency. But as soon as she looked away for a moment—just as Hoseok stepped away to grab some waters—you were gone. Pushing her way through the crowded club, Ash searched for you, but you were nowhere to be found. Her concern grew with each passing minute, especially since she was fairly intoxicated herself, making her sense of direction hazy. She quickly texted Hoseok about the situation, and he, too, began weaving through the crowd in search of you.

Ash emerged out of the crowd to eventually bump into Taehyung and Jungkook trying to go out onto the floor.

“Tae?” She looked at him confused but then relieved, “I had no idea you were here.” 

“Hey!” Taehyung slurred his words as he pulled Ash into a hug, “Where have you been all night?”

“On the dance floor!” She grinned, grabbing his and Jungkook’s arms to steady herself. “Hey, have either of you seen Y/N? She tends to... wander after a few drinks, and I can’t find her.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Not since we saw you guys outside.”

“Can you please help me find her?” Ash knew asking for anything from Jungkook when it came to you would be a long shot. 

“Of course we will.” Taehyung nodded his head vigorously and patted Jungkook on the back, “We are on it.”

Ash gives a thankful smile between the both of them, “Thank you, please text me when you find her.” Ash then without another word moves on to continue trying to find you. 

Jungkook groaned, the alcohol making him a little too open with his emotions. “Do I have too?”

“Yes. Be a good friend to Ash and look around.” Taehyung pushed him into the opposite direction of himself, thinking maybe that splitting up would make it easier. 

Jungkook trudged around the edge of the club looking in tables and in darker corners to see if you had gotten scooped up somewhere or were clinging to a wall. He decided you probably also were going to need some water once he found you and you would need a minute to sober up. The water cup he got posed a little bit of a spill threat anywhere he went though. He was pretty tipsy himself but not enough he wouldn’t recognize your annoying face or voice when he spotted it. He was having no luck this way so he decided to move around the dance area to see if maybe you had got swept away with some of the crowd. 

Which Jungooks thought wouldn’t be too wrong. You really had just gotten pulled into the crowd, you hadn’t really noticed Ash had gone missing since you were just enjoying the music. You had sent a few drunk voice messages to Melanie, who you were sure would have some hilarious responses too in the morning. You had become overwhelmed with the amount of people around you and the heat though so you decided to start pushing your way out, which doing while rather tipsy was somewhat difficult. 

You felt yourself tilt a little and bump your head straight into someone’s chest. What you didn’t immediately register was that the front of your top had become completely soaked. Shocking you almost to a sober state from the ice cold water. You immediately felt bad because you may have just accidentally bumped into someone and their drink spilled down on you.

“I’m so sorry.” You throw your hands over your mouth and look up to see the person, finding Jungkook to be on the other end of your apology, “Oh it’s you again!” 

“Shit.” Jungook knew how cold that water probably was. He really did feel bad that it got split but you had come outta nowhere at him.

You scoff and glance down at your now soaked front annoyed. Your wobbly brain not totally thinking straight. “You totally did that on purpose.” Just as you were saying it you swayed a bit. Jungkook notices you losing your balance and steadies you.

“Ash asked me to find you. That water was for you.” He helped move you away from the center of the room and to a less crowded spot.

“Yeah whatever. You wanted to embarrass me right? Cause I embarrassed you in front of your friend Jim.” You slur and start to stumble away from Jungkook. If it weren’t you he may have laughed at the thought of someone calling Jimin Jim instead. 

“Believe it or not. I don’t spare you that much thought.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, but continued to follow you. Making sure you didn’t fall flat on your face, which would have been amusing in his mind. 

Jungkook tried to keep his hands on your shoulders to guide you away but you kept swatting them off of you. “Your voice is so annoying. You’re annoying. Get away from me, annoying boy.” 

“I am actually trying to help you, I’ll have you know.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. You could swat his hands away a thousand times. He was still going to get you back to Ash. 

You sway back and forth, it had started to make you feel a little seasick and you were worried you may actually hurl. “I need to go to the bathroom.” 

With a reluctant sigh Jungkook nods, “I’ll get you there.” 

Jungkook helps to guide you. Blocking anyone else from bumping into you. Getting you to the bathrooms. It was just a hallway with a handful of single person bathrooms. Jungkook manages to get you to one that was open at the end. You stumble your way in but don’t go to hurl you just press your back to the cold tiles. 

The small bathroom felt claustrophobic under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights, illuminating the scribbles on the walls—snippets of humor and frustration from past patrons. You were acutely aware of the ridiculousness of the situation; the tipsy haze that had wrapped around your mind was starting to lift. The cold splash of water had brought you back to a semblance of sobriety, but not enough to chase away the stubborn annoyance that bubbled beneath the surface.

“This is your fault.” You glared at Jungkook but then looked down at your shirt. It actually was drying up pretty good. Probably would be dry by the end of the night. 

“Even if I hadn’t done it, you would find a reason to make it my fault.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the bathroom door. 

You gave him a begrudging smile, tilting your head in fake gratitude. “Well, thank you for ruining my shirt and my night. You’re a real hero.”

He laughed, a bitter laugh. “Fuck off. You’re the one who had too much and worried everyone. Seems like you were the one to really ruin the night.”

“Oh so suddenly you worry about me now?” You roll your eyes, you know he didn’t

“You know what. I’ll be a bigger man. Yeah, you were drunk and alone and one of my friends was concerned about you. So I was too.”  Jungkook leaned away from the door and crossed his arms, sick and tired of having to deal with you this week. 

His words stung, and you couldn’t shake the guilt creeping in. You had really worried Ash and Hoseok, and the weight of that realization pressed down on you. “Fine. Well, mission accomplished; you can leave now.”

“No.” Jungkook shrugged. 

“Excuse me?”

“No, I’m going to walk you back to Ash myself. Doing my job as a good friend to make sure you’re okay. Whether you like it or not.” He widened his stance, as if bracing for a push that he knew wouldn’t come.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in defiance. “You don’t even like me, and suddenly you’re so noble. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re just here to be a pain.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re so stubborn. It’s like you’re trying to make this difficult.”

You just leave him in an angry silence now as you continue to clean yourself up. Back still pressed against the tile. You stare at the ground instead of Jungkook standing across from you. Your sober mind would give him brownie points for making sure you were okay even though things are so difficult between the two of you. Your tipsy brain was not thinking critically now. Just wanted to fight since you had become so annoyed from seeing him every single day this week. 

Jungkook couldn’t say he didn’t feel the same. Seeing you everyday had added a certain level of stress and annoyance to each day. It had been building up to a moment the two of you would blow up in each other's faces like this. 

As you tried to move, a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you to lean back against the cool tiles for support. A long breath in, then out, hoping this wasn’t a sign that you might actually be sick. Once the feeling passed, you leaned up again, feeling slightly better.

“Are you okay?” Although a bit forced, he thought he should ask.

“A little dizzy still.” You hold your hands over your eyes and scrunch your face up tight for a moment. 

“We really should get you some water.” Jungkook sighed, “One I don’t accidentally spill on you that is.” 

“That would be preferable.” You laugh a little, dropping your hands. 

“Was that a laugh? Did I manage to get you to laugh?” Jungkook's face fell into dramatic shock. “Oh this needs to be documented.”

“Stop. You are being so loud.” You roll your eyes at his exasperation. “You’ll never get a laugh from me again.” 

“As long as it annoys you. I’ll never shut up.” He gives a shit eating grin your directions and you just shake your head. 

“What a gentlemen.”

Jungkook chuckled, crossing his arms as he took a  step closer to you. "Look at that. Now you’re giving me compliments? What’s next, a thank you?"

The defiant look in his eyes only fueled your frustration. "You’re impossible. You don’t even know when to quit, do you?"

"Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you." His voice was quiet now, and though he had not intended too he was looking at you a different way now. It actually made you… nervous?

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, hating the way your heart was racing from the proximity.

“I’m good.” His voice was almost playful and daring. Challenging you in a way that made it impossible to look away. For the first time tonight you actually looked him in the eyes. He was also looking into yours, Jungkook was still pretty tipsy although he was doing a much better job at keeping himself together.

“I don’t like you.”

“Wow news of the century.” Jungkook gave you a confused look but he was amused.

“Yet somehow in this universe we managed too… well you know. You were there.” You gestured your arm dramatically pointing to him. 

“Did what?” Jungkook played a little innocent now, pushing your buttons. 

“I’m not saying it.”

“No I have no idea what we did,” Jungkook mused, “I have a terrible memory after all.”

“Jungkook,” you sighed, exasperation coloring your voice.

“What?” His grin widened, almost genuine, as if he enjoyed this.

“We managed to fuck. Are you happy?” The words hung between you like a confession, and you hated how flustered you felt afterward.

“Oh, that’s right.” Jungkook closed the distance even more, invading your space, his playful tone now laced with something deeper. “I had a lapse in my memory.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you despised how your body was reacting to him. “You’re insufferable,” you shot back, struggling to mask the flutter in your stomach with irritation.

“And yet, here I am, still standing in front of you.” Jungkook’s voice dropped lower, teasingly. You could feel the tension thickening in the small bathroom, and it only added to the growing frustration and confusion bubbling inside you.

“Why do you always have to make everything so complicated?” You snapped, but there was a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “Can’t you just leave me alone for once?”

He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If I did that, who is going to help you back?” His words were almost playful, but the weight behind them felt more serious than before.

You gestured between the two of you, your voice rising again. “I think you’re really here to just mess with me.”

“Messing with you is just a bonus,” he countered smoothly. “Because, although you don’t believe it, I’m actually a decent person, I have like a sliver of care for you.”

You scoffed, arms crossed over your chest, but the way he was looking at you, that mix of annoyance and something more, made it hard to keep up your defenses. “You’re just saying that because you feel guilty for spilling water on me.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, taking another step forward, closing the distance even further. “But you’ve had it coming, haven’t you? For all the times you’ve acted like a total brat.”

“Oh please, like you’re any better!” You pushed back, a challenge dancing in your eyes. “You’re an even bigger brat than I am, and you know it.”

“Touche.” He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberated through the small space, making it hard to stay annoyed. It was a sweet sound, more than you would ever admit out loud.

“And I sometimes think you enjoy fighting me,” you pressed, desperate to maintain the upper hand.

“Full transparency, I don’t.” His tone shifted, just slightly, revealing a flicker of sincerity beneath the teasing.

“Whatever.” you huffed, but you could hear the vulnerability behind his words, and it made you momentarily hesitate.

“It’s true. I have to fight at my job a lot, so I’m not a big fan of it in my personal life.” His admission hung in the air, unexpected and honest. Not something Jungkook ever thought he would say out loud to you of all people.

You paused, considering him for a moment. “I think that’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me.” Your heart raced as the realization settled in—there was more to him than the brash exterior he always showed. Which was annoying, because he was becoming human instead of monster in your mind.

“Probably.” He shrugged, but there was a softness in his gaze now that made you want to look away, even as you felt drawn in.

You both laughed to yourselves then, the sound echoing off the tiled walls, the tension easing just enough to breathe. It was a shared moment, lightening the mood even as it carried the weight of everything unspoken between you.

“Another laugh? Wow, big night for me,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Shut up,” you replied, but the smile lingered on your lips, a reluctant acceptance of the warmth blooming in your chest. 

“Make me,” he challenged, stepping even closer, invading your space in a way that made you take pause.

The space between you had shrunk, and Jungkook  couldn’t remember when that had happened. His heart raced, the alcohol in his system blurring what he usually felt for you with something else entirely. What was worse was that you were also caught up in the same whirlwind of confusion and longing.

The only sound in the room was the muffled music drifting in from outside the door and the uneven rhythm of your breathing, mingling in the charged air around you. This is insane, Jungkook thought, his pulse quickening as he took in the way your eyes glimmered under the harsh bathroom lights.

Your gaze fell to his lips and then shot back to his eyes, so fast it was a fleeting moment, but he noticed. It felt like time had slowed, every heartbeat echoing in the silence between you. Is this really happening? Again? Jungkook couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had shifted, and suddenly, you looked different too—more inviting.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence, desperate to dispel the thoughts swirling in your mind. Focus. It doesn’t matter. Except it did. Jungkook was looking at you with a hunger you recognized, a look that sent shivers down your spine.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with tension.

“Nothing.” He looked away, but the moment felt too heavy, too filled with unsaid words.

As soon as Jungkook averted his gaze, he found himself drawn back to you, the magnetic pull almost irresistible. You both stared at each other for a moment, your hearts racing in tandem, minds swirling with the same thoughts. What the hell are we doing? You knew you weren’t sober enough to think this through, yet a huge part of you was screaming… just do it.

“It’s not a good idea.” You say. The words felt forced, almost painful to admit.

“It’s not,” he agreed too quickly, as if the very notion scared him.

“We shouldn’t.” You stood up straighter, your defenses momentarily flaring.

“No.” Jungkook adjusted himself as well, clearing his throat, trying to regain some composure. “And it could be… a problem.”

“We’ve both been drinking. So we are just confused.” You kept your eyes locked onto his, desperate for him to understand every word you were saying, even as your heart raced in contradiction.

“We aren’t thinking straight.”

You looked down, feeling the urge to reach out and touch him clawing at your resolve. Get a grip, you thought, trying to pull yourself back from the edge.

“You repulse me. It’s not what I want.” You said, shaking your head to ground yourself in reality. Right? This is just the alcohol talking. I don’t really want this.

“I can’t stand you.” Jungkook said. Any other hour day or time this was true, except for right now.

You didn’t move, the silence wrapped around the both of you like a fog. You wanted it, you wanted to kiss him. Every second the two of you stood here the closer you were giving in. You wanted to give in so bad. He really was the serpent, and you were going to take the forbidden fruit he offered.

This didn’t feel the same as last time. Last time it was quick and rash. No thought, just an impulsive decision. Now it was like you were making a decision that was going to change everything. 

And yet you couldn’t help it.

“Kiss me.” You look from his eyes to his lips again, lingering longer. 

Jungkook paused. Asking himself if he should do this. Except he answered it for himself, and decided to go slow. He tilted his face to meet yours. Almost like he wanted to wait for you to meet him but he knew you wouldn't. You wanted him to chase after you, to come to you. So he didn’t wait a second longer. Pressing his lips to yours. 

That cigarette taste completely takes you over again. Not as intense as before, it was almost like a hint. Yet you could care less about it, because it was now familiar. You met him with as much need as he gave you. You needed more so you took it a step forward and begged for more. Each kiss was getting more desperate and somehow your hands managed to find their way into his hair. Jungkooks finding their way onto your hips.

One sober thought slapped you in the face, “What are we doing?” You pulled away from him breathless but you paused just looking at him. Then kissing him again, like you needed it to survive.

“We shouldn’t.” Jungkook just soon after, pulling so slightly away but kissing you again.His whole body betraying him.

 One of his hands hiking one of your thighs up around his waist. He pressed his body into yours. You were completely pressed into the wall behind you. 

“We… I,” you pull away again, you have to swallow for a second. You take a moment and are looking between his eyes. Somehow they were all shiny and sparkly in this terribly lit bathroom. He was breathing just as hard as you and his heart pounding even louder. He didn’t make any space between the two of you. “I don’t know what I was going to say.” 

You both felt extremely sober but drunk on this feeling, on this thrill. Completely clear about what was happening. 

“Probably some excuse about how awful I am.” Jungkook kissed along your jaw and down your neck. Your skin was so sensitive and you felt like every time he kissed you, every touch was electric. 

“You are.” You were trying to think of any reason to stop, you came up with nothing. 

“Yeah well, not awful enough that I can't kiss you.” Jungkook leaves a small bite on the skin of your neck, and you let out a small moan. Your eyes widen as soon as you do it and Jungkook is immediately filled with amusement.

“Don’t say a word.” 

“Don’t worry. I don’t feel like talking.” He pulled himself away from your neck and kissed you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He had you wrapped up in him all over again.

You thought the lip piercing would get in your way but it actually went unnoticed. Your hands found their way to either side of his face. If anyone was becoming addicted, it was you. Kissing him was like sipping poison from a decorated chalice, beautiful to view but bitter for the soul. Yet, you couldn’t get enough. 

It was painfully clear how turned on Jungkook was getting. With your leg that was wrapped around his waist, you use your leverage to push him into you. The pressure breaks him out of the kiss a bit, moaning himself. You smiled devilishly, his eyes were shut. You pull him closer, you take the chance to kiss down his neck. Sucking a little on each spot. He leaned into your touch. Enjoying each one. 

“We-… oh god.” He placed one of his hands on the wall steadying himself. “We should get out of here.” 

“Why?” You say and you kiss him again. He pulls away for a second breathing hard again. 

“As great as bar bathroom sex is,” he was being sarcastic, “I prefer a bed.” 

“Good point.” You pull away for a second. Wiping your mouth. You let the tiles hold you up again. Glancing over to the mirror, whatever lipstick you had on had completely transferred to Jungkook. You look at him and you wipe off any smudges you can see. Jungkook didn’t protest the action. Something almost domestic about it. 

Gross, he thought.

You watched his movements. He pushed his hair back, eyes closed for a second. His lack of contact now felt strange. You kept looking at his hands, how delicate his fingers were. You want them inside you. You wanted them on you. You needed him wrapped around you. You shook your head, you needed to get out of here. 

What the hell were you doing? 

You stepped around Jungkook. Before you could open the door Jungkook spun you around again, back against the door now. His hands on your cheeks. He kissed you again and you welcomed him without issue. Warmth invoked you all over again and it was almost like you could have let your whole body go slack. You couldn’t get enough, and it was clear he couldn’t either. It felt very easy and you didn’t hate it. 

“Jungkook.” You break away but he kisses you, you pull back again. “Let’s go.” 

“You’re right.” He breaks away from you and he forces himself to take the largest step back he can from you. 

You flatten your hair down, then you open the bathroom door and slip out. Luckily no one was in the hall. You assume Jungkook was going to wait a moment before following you so it didn’t appear that the two of you were in there together. There was no way you would be able to leave without saying goodbye to Ash or Hoseok, so you needed to find them first. You couldn’t even hear the music with how loud your heart was pounding in your ears.

After a minute of searching you found them both tucked in a corner looking at their phones. Probably texting you or three seconds away from calling the police. You cringed and approached them. 

Ash looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of you. “Jesus christ where have you been?”

“I’m so so sorry.” You hug her and then hug Hoseok. “I got swept away by the people and then I just needed to sit in the bathroom for a while. I was so dizzy.” Not a total lie but still bullshit not the less.

“Text next time okay?” Hoseok gripped your shoulder hard and gave you a small shake. You nod in return. 

“I promise. I will. I will never let that happen again. I do think I just need to go home. I’ve had a little too much tonight.” You nod. 

“Do you need one of us to come with you?” Ash face twisted in concern but you give her a reassuring smile so she won’t press further. 

“No I live so close and I will text you as soon as I get there.” You nod. 

It takes a little more convincing but the two of them let you go with some goodbyes. Once you break away from them you try to see if you can spot Jungkook maybe hovering close by or something. You don’t immediately find him but you decide if you leave he will have to come out the same way. You find your way to the exit and make it outside. You realize this meeting up thing would have been easier if you had Jungkook's number, but alas here you were. Just waiting and hoping he wouldn’t make a fool out of you.

After a minute of waiting on the street and watching people pass you by, Jungkook emerged from the door.

“So you didn’t run away.” He teased, you roll your eyes. Hugging your arms to protect from the cold. 

“Nights not over. Still plenty of time to get away.” Was this all a bad idea? 

“So…” he looked around, probably to see if anyone you knew was around. “Mine or yours?” 

Jungkook could care less where you went but he just want to go now. 

You hadn’t actually considered it. You weren’t sure if you wanted him in your place. You didn’t really bring people back home. You always went to theirs, made it easier to detach and never talk again. Jungkook was different, there was no detachment that could be done so easily here. 

“Yours.” You say. Stick to the normal routine. 

“Okay.” He didn’t protest.

Jungkook calls a car and it doesn’t take very long to pick you guys up. You both are quiet the whole ride. Jungkook didn’t live terribly far so it made it quick. Too quick, too quick for you to talk yourself out of going. The moment in the bathroom kept replaying in your mind. How you got from point A to B.

 It was like one second you two were magnets that were pushing each other apart and then the next you were desperately trying to stay stuck together. When it used to be you would push each other apart. 

After too long you arrived. Jungkook let the both of you inside and then you were going up the elevator. Still nothing, you had no idea what he was thinking. No idea if maybe he also was regretting his choice. He didn’t look like he had anything to say to you, which to be fair, he never did. You followed him down a hall a ways and he unlocked his apartment. 

Once you had made it inside Jungkook flicked on his lights. It was actually quite spacious. Everything was really clean and he had good taste in decoration. It had a large living room and a separated kitchen. There was a hall that connected off the living room that probably led to his room.

Jungkook tugged off his shoes and you followed, taking off yours. 

He stepped inside but you almost stayed glued. The mental roadblock had finally hit. Jungkook noticed and looked back at you. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He observed you for a moment, you clenched your fists out of comfort. 

“Something like that.” You sigh, you don’t look at him, “Your place is… nice.” 

“Then why aren’t you coming in?” He leaned on the wall next to him. “Do I have to invite you in, like a vampire?” 

“Haha, very funny.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, “More like I’m talking myself into it.” 

“I see. We’ll, doors right there, feel free to run.” He saunters back over to you, pointing to the door behind you. “Can get out now while you still can.” 

He came as close as he felt you were comfortable with. There was that feeling all over again, like everything in you was pulling you towards him. 

“Not a word to anyone?” You clear your throat. 

“Deal.” 

With that you pull him into you and you kiss him. One of his hands on the back of your neck and the other on your waist. Both of you walking backwards into the apartment. Each kiss was more and more urgent. Jungkook managed to spin the both of you around and was walking you back to his bedroom. Your hands found their way to get his jacket off and pulling his shirt over his head. He broke away from you to pull it off. Immediately kissing you again once he discarded it. Your hands wrapped around him, his warm skin welcoming the touch of your hands.

You both split again to get you out of your clothes until you were just in your underwear and bra. With your frenzied movements you have somehow made it into his room.  

Jungkook pulled away, then got his hands under your thighs and quickly laid you back on his bed. You yelped a little at the sudden movement. Jungkook was immediately on top of you again, placing himself between your legs most of his weight on you, he kissed you again. You felt like you hadn’t had a breath in several minutes. 

He paused for a moment though and leaned back a little, he just stared. . 

“Let me take this off.” He looked at your bra. 

“Okay.” You sat up on your elbows. “Why?” 

“I didn’t get to see them last time. I want to see all of you.” He looked down to the rest of you for a moment but then back to your eyes. 

“You really are obsessed with me huh?” You were the one desperate to have him closer. 

“Just for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll go back to not being able to stand you.” He finally gives in and start to suck on your neck, using one of his hands to keep your head in place. 

A quiet moan leaves you at the feeling. He had already had you figured out. Where you tick. He didn’t stay there long, he pulled himself away enough to get his hand under you to undo your bra. Pulling it down your arms and throwing it somewhere in the room. You lay back down flat on your back. Jungkook took no time to get his hands on your breasts. Holding them in his hands and massaging them. He leans his head down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth and continues to massage your other breast. You just watched him, you a little bit into the sight of him being all over you. He swirls his tongue around your nipple. You felt yourself getting wetter. You had moved your hips to find some pressure, you were dying to be touched.

“Jungkook.” It came out sort of whiny and strained. You mentally pounded yourself for how desperate you sounded. 

He pulled away from you. He also looked surprised. 

“Needy are we?” He had an amused smile, he held all the cards.. “What do you want?” 

“Just touch me. Please.” God you were pathetic. This was a new low. You needed it bad though, you want to cum whatever way he wanted you too. 

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” he was very amused by the sight of you begging. He would have loved to see more of it if he didn’t really want to eat you out. 

Then Jungkook took the moment to take off his pants. He looked as if he was going to take off his underwear as well but then hesitated. 

He hovers above you again, Jungkook thought for a moment. Something that could work you up. Something maybe a little surprising even for himself to admit, “One more honest confession from me. You looked really good tonight.”

“What?” You were stunned, he sounded extremely sincere. 

“I have never met someone who gets on my actual last nerve.” He shook his head, “but I wanted to fuck you again so badly, didn’t matter how much you bothered me.” 

You didn’t realize words could turn on you on so much, but it was working. Let alone coming from Jungkook, 

“What did you think about?” Curiosity was getting the better of you.

“How I really want to eat you out, I wanted to make you cum on my tongue.” He moved back over you, kissing you and breaking away. “Plus I wanted to see your tits and they did not disappoint.” 

Jungkook hoping in his mind this was working. He wasn’t out of practice but you really were the only person he had slept with in a while, and the fact that he didn’t know how you worked made him a little nervous. What he didn’t quite understand is that it didn’t take much to work you up. 

“What else?” You wanted to close your legs, you needed some relief between your legs but Jungkook wasn’t going to let that happen. 

“I could have fucked you in the bathroom, no I would have fucked you in the bathroom. If you had kissed me any longer I would have.” He came very close to your ear. You closed your eyes, just listening to him. 

You swallow hard and nod. You wanted to play it much cooler than you had been. “I don’t see why I should care at all about that.” You start to chew on your bottom lip. 

“I keeping wondering how many times I could make you cum. How many times I could make you fall apart, with my hands, with my tongue, and my cock.” 

Yeah you were getting so high just on his words. 

“God please Jungkook,” you had enough though, “Please touch me, please just do something.”

 “Thank god.” He also couldn’t take it anymore. 

He kissed you but it was so quick because he kissed his way down your neck and then your chest and then your stomach. He started sliding off your underwear and you don’t resist him at all. It was painfully clear how wet you were, Jungkook was tired of not being all over you though. He examines you for a moment and then licks over your clit without much warning. You moan apprehensively. Your words were completely lost. 

Jungkook did it again a few more times. He wrapped his hands around your legs keeping them apart. You wanted to squeeze his head between your thigh so badly but you couldn’t budge under his grip. You placed your hands on his head. Jungkook licks your clit in a side to side motion. He had you in the palm of his hand now. He knew it. You were going to come quickly at this rate, he had gotten you so wound up. You grip onto his hair at the sensation, Jungkook then pulls back from to stick his tongue into your pussy. Immediately licking all of the arousal that been coming out of you. He kept moving his tongue in and out of you over and over. So warm and he found his way around you quickly.

“Fuck.” You said it long and dragged out as Jungkook continued fuck you with his tongue. “Don’t stop.”

He hums against you in response, he wasn’t going to give you any second of recovery. He wanted you to cum in his mouth, and he was going to take you to the end. Jungkook let go of his grip on your legs, allowing you close your thighs around him. You were getting close. You were a little impressed and so was he. You were starting to twitch a little with each touch. Moans just kept falling from you pathetically, you just didn’t care. Your hips began moving on his mouth subconsciously. He followed your lead. He loved every second of this. 

You managed to get yourself to look down at him to watch what he was doing, to your surprise he was already watching you. Mouth buried between your legs. His eyebrows furrowed, his stare so serious and full of lust. He was eating up every second watching you fall apart. 

“Shit.” You lay your head back, “Don’t look at me like that.” 

He paused for a second but spitting on your clit and taking his hand there to rub you. 

“Why not?” He hummed. 

“It’s… confusing.” It was confusing, you still hated him but that look. Your feelings of hate and lust we’re mixing dangerously together, 

“You’re just… so hot when you are about to cum.” He replaced his hand with his mouth again. He needed to make you cum. 

“Shut up.” You moan, as he presses his tongue flat into your clit, putting pressure on it and licking upwards. Then sticking his tongue back inside you.

You didn’t have time to think. Before you could get anything else out you felt your climax hit you like a truck, you twitch and tried pulling away from Jungkook but he held onto you pumping his tongue in and out of you as your walls tried to clench around his tongue. Your cum spilling into Jungkook's mouth. He kept a tight grip on your thighs and just continued his motions as you rode out your climax. 

After a minute you settled. You were breathing heavily and your eyes shut. Jungkook pulled himself away. It was really unfortunate how much he liked how you tasted. Jungkook took one of your hands and pulled you up so you were sitting up. You opened your eyes and looked at him but before anything he kissed you. Sort of tender at first, then his tongue was in your mouth. There was a new taste present, it wasn’t bad at all. It was definitely your cum. It was nice, maybe way too intimate for the two of you but you didn’t mind. He cupped your face in his hand. 

“It’s really annoying how good you taste.” He kissed down your neck to your shoulder. They were delicate little kisses. You were trying to come back down. After all it was a pretty good orgasm.

“I would say do that again but I don’t think I’ll stay awake after.” You lean your head to the side, giving him better access. “God this sucks.”  

“What did I do now?” He pulls back and looks at you unamused. 

“Because you are the most obnoxious person ever but this makes it much harder to hate you.” 

“I think it makes it more fun if you hate me.” He kisses you, you slide your tongue into his mouth and sigh comfortably.

You both were getting really impatient though. You really wanted to ride him. You needed to be fucked so you could be done with this so you didn’t have to admit you wanted him to eat you out again and again. Jungkook needed to come soon though, he was so hard in his boxers he was afraid he might explode. He had any number of ways he wanted you but didn’t care what you wanted to do to him. 

You pull back from him, “Let me touch you.” 

“Don’t say it like that.” he drops his head, resting it on your shoulder. 

“Why?” You were having the exact effect you wanted. He lifts his head and looks at you. 

“Like you said, it gets… confusing.” 

You smirk and you stand up with him for a moment but then you turn him and have him sit on the side of the bed now. He takes off his underwear almost like understanding your thoughts. He was really hard and his tip was all red. He didn’t take his eyes off your hands and just watched you every movement. 

You hold his chin in your hand and have him look up at you. He almost looked a little pouty and pathetic, almost cute. He placed his hands onto your hips but let’s you take the lead. You then take both of your legs and you straddle his lap, his dick sitting between the both of you. He took in a deep breath from the contact. 

“I guess I could just leave.” You tease, you kiss one side of his neck. “I got what I needed. Could just leave you to yourself. Since it’s so confusing for the both of us.” You tease. 

Jungkook had closed his eyes and was shaking his head. In almost painful desperation. “Don’t.” His hands moved to your ass, hanging on to you now. “Seriously, please touch me. I won’t last much longer.” 

“What would you like?” You hold yourself away from him so you can see his face clearly.

“Sit on me.” He chased your lips and kissed you again. 

You continue to kiss him but you sit up on your knees. Reaching between the both of you to grab his dick. You stroke him a few times. He groans into your mouth from the contact, his tip was leaking precum. You stop for a second. 

“Do you have a condom?” 

Jungkook nodded, he reached over to a drawer next to his bed and pulled one out. You take it from him, unwrapped it. Using both of your hands and slowly roll it over his length, squeezing him on the way down. 

“Fuck.” His head falls back. He squeezed your ass in one of his hands.

You then lift yourself up again and line him up with your entrance. You knew you were going to be pretty sensitive so you just sink down just onto his tip. You were a bit overstimulated so you hiss, but you kept going sliding yourself down his length. Jungkook was letting small moans fall from his mouth. Then you fully sit down on him, filling you completely up. You moan a little yourself at the feeling. Jungkook was in complete ecstasy. You lift yourself up and sink back down onto him again. You both moan into each other. 

“Lay back.” You whisper in his ear, “It’ll be easier.”

Jungkooks complys, you push him down with one of your hands. This way you are able to get your knees on the bed a little better, and it allows you to get more leverage.  So you push yourself up and down in a quicker motion now. You keep your hands on his chest. With each move of your hips you begin to build a rhythm, your clit grazing his pelvic bone every time you fully sink down onto him.

“God I hate how good this feels.” You groan but out of pleasure. You mouth falling open. 

He’s smirking below you, breathing heavily. Barely keeping his eyes open. Feeling every little movement you made. Why did it have to feel with you of all people? Let alone really good. You full sit down on him for a moment taking a second to breath, his cock buried all the way inside you. You grind your hips on him, you were trying to find your high again. 

“Shit. Don’t stop.” Jungkook pleaded, he looked down to where his cock was inside you. Loving the way your bodies were connected. 

“Oh yeah?” Lifting yourself up and sank back down onto him again and grinding on him again.

“God I fucking hate how good you look right now.” He sounded so annoyed but it was getting you hot. 

“Stop.” You sigh, you pause for a second. Your knees needing a second to recover. 

“What?” He eyes you for a moment.

“Stop talking.” You breath for a second, you were going to come soon. You could feel it, your wall were throbbing and you were breathing so heavily. You didn’t want him to be able to get you off so easily. 

Jungkook on the other hand seemed somewhat concerned, worried you may be in pain. “Is something wrong?” He sat up to meet your face. 

“Nope.” You almost cut him off holding a hand up to him, “I’m just really close.” 

“Oh yeah?” He lets out a breathy laugh and it caused his pelvis to shift under you and you moan softly. 

“Oh I see,” Jungkook reached his hands around to your ass. Hanging on to your hips for a moment. Forcing you up and down on him and a pathetic whine falls from you. “You want to cum again huh?” His voice was quiet and deep.

“No.” The word came out weak, It was a sad protest, very clearly a lie.

“Getting yourself all wrapped around my dick making you want to cum?” He kisses your jaw, you had yours eyes screwed shut. You managed to look at him through your tired hooded eyes.

“Yes.” You give in. Jungkook forced your hips up and down on him again and another whine falls from your mouth. 

“What can I do?” Jungkook sighs. 

“Keep talking to me, and I’ll keep fucking you.” You try to feel yourself back in, shutting your eyes again. You did not want to see his face. 

“You got it.” 

You go back slowly working up to the pace you were at before. Every once and a while sinking all the way down and grinding your hips on him. Jungkook breathing heavily, steadies his mind for a second. 

“You’re doing so good for me. Fucking my cock like this. God you look so sexy like that.” His hands were running up and down your back. “Hating me comes with some perks right?” 

“Fuck off.” You moan, you kept riding him though. Oh it was working, your high was building. You weren’t sure how long Jungkook had left in him. 

“If I had known a truce could lead to this I would have offered one sooner.” He forces you down onto himself for a moment and you gasp. “Cause now I can’t stop thinking what it would be like to see you suck me off and come in your mouth.” 

Jungkook would never get to see it but he was definitely thinking about it now. So were you, what it would be like to suck him until he came? Making him wriggle above you, forcing your mouth all the way onto him. 

“I’m gonna-…” you stutter, you keep your pace but you feel it coming. 

“Cum?” Jungkook fills in the blank, “Cum for me, brat.” He took the small moment to tease you.

“God shut up.” You go a little faster and before you can get anything else out, you’re cumming all over again. And Jungkook stopped you, forcing all the way down on his cock. You bite into his shoulder. Completely losing yourself. Your walls were fighting against being filled up by him. Squeezing him over and over. This one was a little quicker than the one earlier. You could feel some of your cum leaking down into his lap. 

You try to move again but it’s so sensitive you stop again. 

“Just give me a second.” You breathe, placing both your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. Jungkook had no issue waiting. 

“No worries, you’re a pretty good cock warmer anyways.” He jokes, you push him back down into the bed away from you. You just sit for a second. 

“God you’re annoying.” You push past the sensitivity and start riding Jungkook again. Going as quick as you can. You needed him to cum now. 

Jungkook let you. He let you fuck him. He was completely taken by the feeling. He was actually much closer than you thought because before long he pushed his hips up into you. You keep fucking him, pumping his dick for everything he has, you can feel him fill up the condom in you. Once he seems to be coming down you come to a slow stop. 

You both were spent.

You got yourself off of him. Sitting on the bed next to him for a second. Just breathing, your legs were shaking from the fatigue of the position you were in. You had to force yourself up though, Jungkook had his bathroom connected to his room. So you darted for it. Not saying a word, locking yourself inside. Jungkook watched you go for a moment but then got himself up to clean himself up. 

You take care of what you need too. You didn’t hear Jungkook moving around outside of the bathroom at all. You open the door sort of wishing you had brought your clothes in with you so you could redress. You step out of the bathroom and Jungkook was putting a new pair of boxers on. Then grabbing a shirt and putting it on, he then crashed out onto his bed. You understood the feeling. You tip toed in into the room putting your underwear on.

You had slept with Jungkook again…

You found your shirt and threw it on. Turning around and seeing Jungkook on the bed. He noticed you starting to redress yourself and managed to grab his phone looking at the time. It would have been way too late for you to get a ride home.

“What are you doing?” He asks. 

“What does it look like? I’m leaving.” You walk around and manage to find more of your things. Grabbing your pants with the intention to put them on but getting stopped.

“Why? It’s going to be too late to get a ride.” 

“Because this was just a hookup and I should go home.” You point between the two of you. You pull your phone out to see the time. God it was so late.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s like 2 am, just… stay.” He waves his hand to the spot next to him. 

You hesitate at the offer. “No no no,” you almost laugh. “That’s not… no.” 

“Y/N…” he looks at you seriously, very tired, but serious. “Stay.”

For a brief moment you thought about protesting. About fighting him on it but the more you stood the more your exhaustion was hitting you. The bed was tempting and it would be easier just to stay. 

So, you lay yourself down. Jungkook then pulls the covers over you. Moving and making as much space in the bed he can for you. You stayed glued to your side with your back to him, and his back turned to you as well. It didn’t take much for either of you to pass out soon after.

Just for tonight. 

You woke up to sunlight hitting your face—a surprising sensation since your room never caught the morning sun. Disoriented, you blinked against the brightness, and the events of last night came rushing back, crashing into you like a tidal wave. Your eyes shot open, heart pounding as you glanced around the unfamiliar room. Panic set in, and you bolted upright.

“Oh my god…” You whispered, feeling the dread seep into your bones. You looked to a still sleeping Jungkook beside you; the bed was a mess of tangled sheets. You threw the covers off discreetly and quickly realized that, yes, you were right—you hadn’t put your pants back on. The sight of your bare legs only confirmed the mess you’d gotten yourself into.

“No, no, no...” You buried your face into your hands. Not again. You wanted to blame it on drinking, but you were sober enough to make this decision and so was he.

Your head throbbed, partly from the brewing headache and partly from the sheer disbelief at your own actions. Jungkook began to stir next to you with a groan. He flipped over so he was facing you. He opened his eyes for a brief moment and looked at you and closed them again. 

But then Jungkook took a moment to realize, yes you were in fact in his bed, so his eyes shot open and he pushed himself up with horror written on his face.

“Awe crap...”

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

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Taglist!: @akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop @rinkud @deepikhaprakash @chuuritoz @jkslvsnella @eisthv @bangatanily @smwhrinthehaze @jjkologys @nono13bnd @vantelover1306 @jalexad @sadgirlroo @chimmisbae @smoljjks

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

[0piumlol]

The puppy betrayal

Pairing:Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: None, except Jungkook being an absolute menace

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Enemies-to-Lovers (but more like Annoyances-to-Lovers)

Summary: Your dog keeps escaping into Jungkook’s apartment, and you’re starting to think it’s not an accident. Every day, you wage war against your suspiciously handsome neighbor for pet custody, but Jungkook is having way too much fun acting like he’s the dog’s favorite. And worse? He might actually be right.

---

The first time your dog went missing, you had a full-blown panic attack.

The second time, you were *slightly* calmer.

The third time? You had a hunch.

Which is why you were standing in front of apartment **3B**, jabbing the doorbell with all the aggression of someone ready to fight.

It only took a few seconds before the door swung open, revealing *him*.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your neighbor. Your nuisance. The man who had apparently stolen your dog.

He grinned, eyes twinkling with amusement as he leaned lazily against the doorframe. “Oh, look who it is,” he drawled. “Let me guess—you lost something?”

You crossed your arms. “Cut the act. I *know* he’s here.”

Jungkook gasped, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “Are you accusing me of *dognapping*?”

“Jungkook.”

His lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he stepped aside—revealing the traitorous sight of your dog, tail wagging, happily curled up on Jungkook’s couch.

Your *own* dog. In *his* apartment. Acting like he *lived there.*

“Unbelievable,” you muttered.

Jungkook smirked. “I don’t know, I think it’s *very* believable.”

With an annoyed huff, you stepped inside, clapping your hands. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go.”

Your dog lifted his head. Looked at you. Looked at Jungkook. And then—

He flopped back down.

“Oh my god,” you whispered in horror. “He’s *betrayed* me.”

Jungkook let out the most *obnoxious* laugh you’d ever heard. “Looks like someone has a *favorite* neighbor.”

You glared. “What are you bribing him with?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Maybe he just likes me more.”

“That’s *impossible.*”

“Is it?” He grinned. “Because *I* don’t lose him every other day.”

You inhaled sharply. “You did *not* just imply that I’m a bad dog mom.”

Jungkook held up his hands. “I’m just saying, *if* he keeps running to my place, maybe I should get visitation rights.”

“This is a *war*, Jeon.”

Jungkook leaned against the counter, smirking. “Then may the best owner win.”

The next few weeks turned into an all-out custody battle.

You tried everything—closing every window, double-checking the locks, even bribing your dog with extra treats.

But every single time, somehow, some way, he *still* ended up in Jungkook’s apartment.

Jungkook, of course, was *thriving*.

“Back again?” he greeted one afternoon, your dog perched happily in his lap as he scratched behind his ears. “I think at this point, you should just admit defeat.”

“I think at this point, I should call the cops.”

“Go ahead,” he said, smirking. “I’d love to see how that conversation goes. ‘Hi, officer. I’d like to report a crime—my dog likes my hot neighbor more than me.’”

You scowled. “You are *not* hot.”

Jungkook hummed, unimpressed. “You hesitated.”

“I *did not*—”

“I’m keeping him overnight.”

“Excuse me?!”

Jungkook grinned. “For science.”

“Jungkook, you are *not* keeping my dog for science.”

“Why not?” He looked entirely too pleased with himself. “I bet if you leave, he won’t even try to follow you.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “Let’s test your stupid theory.”

You turned on your heel and marched toward the door, fully expecting your dog to leap up and trot after you.

Except.

He didn’t.

Jungkook made an *actual* effort to stifle his laughter this time, but you could see the way his shoulders shook.

“I hate you,” you muttered.

“No, you don’t,” he said cheerfully. “You just hate that I’m winning.”

You stormed out of his apartment, slamming the door behind you.

It was official.

Your dog loved Jungkook more than you.

And you had absolutely no idea how to fix it.

Jungkook took his victory *very* seriously.

From that day on, he started calling himself your dog’s *co-parent*, which was **insufferable**. Every time you ran into him in the hallway, he’d shoot finger-guns at you with some obnoxious remark.

“Visitation rights are still up for discussion, just so you know.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll pick him up for the weekend.”

“Do you need me to help with *dog support payments*?”

It was endless. *Endless.*

But then—because Jungkook was incapable of leaving well enough alone—he started calling you a **bad pet owner**.

“Does he even get enough exercise?” he asked one evening, arms crossed. “Because I take him on *long* walks.”

“I walk him *every* day.”

Jungkook arched a brow. “You mean that little lap around the block?”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he repeated, that stupid grin on his face. “You just hate that I’m right.”

Jungkook started showing up with dog treats. With new toys. With a *matching collar and leash set that made your heart stupidly warm.*

You’d never admit it, but you were starting to lose the war.

Jungkook wasn’t just *good* with your dog—he was great. He was affectionate and playful, always making time for walks, always knowing exactly how to scratch behind his ears.

And it was *annoying*.

Because you were starting to realize that *maybe*—just maybe—you didn’t mind losing.

You were sitting on Jungkook’s couch one evening, your dog sprawled out between the two of you, when he spoke.

“You know,” he mused, scratching behind his ears, “we should just share custody at this point.”

You scoffed. “Not happening.”

“Why not?”

You rolled your eyes. “Because then you’d never shut up about winning.”

Jungkook smirked. “You’re assuming I *haven’t* already won.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but then—

He looked at you. *Really* looked at you.

And suddenly, for the first time since this ridiculous battle started, you realized—

This wasn’t about the dog anymore.

“You like me, don’t you?” you blurted out.

Jungkook blinked.

Then, with the most *obnoxious* smirk you’d ever seen, he leaned back against the couch and shrugged.

“Took you long enough to notice.”

Your mouth went dry. “Oh.”

He chuckled. “So?”

You looked at him, at the man who had turned your entire world into a custody battle—and suddenly, *suddenly*, it didn’t feel like a war anymore.

“…Fine,” you muttered. “We can share custody.”

Jungkook grinned. “Knew you’d come around.”

And just like that, he *won*.

[angelicyoongie]

(you're) always on my mind (Il)

— pairing: bird hybrid jimin x (f) reader — word count: 5.4k — summary: When your workplace announces that they've decided to promote collaboration between departments, you suddenly find yourself face to face with your sworn nemesis Park Jimin. Your plans to avoid him are quickly foiled as his presence turns the floor into a madhouse, your coworkers all vying for his attention. With so many people at his beck and call, why is it that Jimin is always so insistent on getting in your way?

01 - 02 - 03 / Masterlist

You stifle a yawn, blinking your bleary eyes at your screen.

It's not that the project is so demanding that it's keeping you from sleeping, it's more so ... everything else. It's been two weeks since you started working with Jimin and those weeks have consisted of jealous looks from the bird hybrid's groupies and dealing with an increasingly infuriating partner.

The thing is, Park Jimin just won't leave you alone.

"Coffee, for you."

You look up at Jimin as he gently pushes a takeaway cup over to your side of the table. He holds another one in his hand, presumably for himself, and gives you an encouraging nod as he catches your eye.

You tentatively reach out for the drink, finding it just the right side of hot as you wrap your fingers around it. You eye it suspiciously as you bring it up to your nose, giving the cup a discreet sniff. It simply smells like coffee, nothing more and nothing less. You doubt Jimin would poison you – but you wouldn't be surprised if the bird hybrid's definition of funny would be to prank you by putting something less than savory in your drink. Still, you hold his gaze as you bring the cup to your lips, determined not to give him the satisfaction of reacting if there is anything wrong with it.

You take a small sip, expecting the worst, but the taste that hits your tongue is normal. You drink a little more just to be sure but the taste remains the same. Based on the roast, you know that it's from the café down the block, the one that sells really good but horribly overpriced coffee. You've gone there with Jungkook a few times for a special pick-me-up when work has been rough but it's not something you would splurge on regularly.

"Thank you," You mumble, confused yet grateful that Jimin went out of his way to buy it for you.

Jimin's lips curve with a proud smile as he sees you enjoying the drink, his feathers ruffling happily as he takes his seat.

"My pleasure," His eyes crease under the force of his grin, the pale blush in his cheeks quickly hidden by his coffee cup.

You turn your attention back to your work, determined to get as much as possible done. Somehow it feels like you've seen more of Jimin in the past two weeks than you did Jungkook in the past three years, even though you worked side by side for all that time. It might be because Jimin insisted that you would work on the project together – squeezed into the smallest meeting room the department offers. If you're not looking at your screen, there's nowhere to look but directly at Jimin.

The bird hybrid just seems to constantly demand your attention in one way or another. If he's not sitting in front of you, he's walking around in circles, airing his ideas out loud to get your input. No matter what changes you propose, Jimin is always ready to challenge them, often turning a simple yes or no question into a discussion. He has a peculiar working style that absolutely grinds your gears but you can't deny that it works decently well.

Though, the absolute worst part of it all, is that Jimin is somehow becoming more and more attractive every day – and it's not like you can avoid looking at him. Your traitorous heart is beginning to feel confused and it certainly doesn't help that Jimin keeps pestering you about eating lunch together every day.

Even now, it's like clockwork as the time shifts to noon, Jimin's piercing eyes flicking up to meet yours as he coyly asks, "So, what are you doing for lunch today? I found this really nice ramen place just around the block a few days ago, I think you'd like–"

"Jimin-ssi!"

The smile on the bird hybrid's face turns into a grimace as the door to your private work room is flung open, his question interrupted by the same gaggle of people that never leaves him alone. The woman who called out his name, the one you've learned is another bird hybrid from Jimin's old department, sends you a hard glare when you don't immediately remove yourself from Jimin's presence.

You know this situation isn't exactly well-liked by his admirers – you've seen the frowns and heard the whispers whenever you leave the room – but she truly seems to detest the fact that you're working together in such close proximity. You're not sure what gave her the idea that you would take her precious Jimin away from her when that's the last thing you'd want to do, but you don't want to stick around to stoke that ire even more.

"It seems I'll have to decline, Park. Do enjoy your ramen though."

You quickly grab your essentials, shooting Jimin a strained smile before you slip out of the room. As scary as that woman is, you're thankful for her interruption today. A small part of you was tempted to take Jimin up on his offer for once, just to see why he's trying so hard to share a meal with you.

Shaking your head, you beeline straight for Jungkook, desperate for some fresh air and to look at something that isn't Park Jimin. You think you might be starting to go a little crazy from being cooped up in that room. That has to be the only explanation as to why you'd be willing to spend more time with him.

Of course, you should have known that Jimin wouldn't give up that easily.

You've been working on the project for a month now and despite the constant interruptions by his groupies, he never misses a chance to ask you out for lunch. He is nothing if not persistent. You have steeled yourself since that day you almost slipped up – now more determined than ever to not give into Jimin's charms. The thing is, you still can't figure out if he genuinely wants to share a friendly meal with you or if it's just another ploy to one-up you somehow. So many weeks of working together has started to shift your perception of him and you can concede that he's not as horrible as you first thought, but that's all there is to it.

You hold back a tired groan as you settle into the two-seater squished into the corner of the room, taking the tablet Jimin hands you with a muttered thank you.

The project has finally gotten to the stage where it's time to review all the ideas and plans you have so far so that you can narrow it down and choose the best direction to move forward with. Once you settle on that today, you should only have to spend a few more weeks crammed in here with Jimin before the design department takes over.

You watch as Jimin chooses the chair next to the couch, his wings looking awfully squished in that narrow space. The bird hybrid looks as unbothered as ever, tapping around on the tablet in his lap. Still, you can't shake the feeling that maybe Jimin has just gotten so used to conforming and contorting himself in public spaces that he doesn't even notice it anymore.

Clearing your throat, you catch Jimin's attention, his eyes as attentive as ever as they find yours. You nod at his compressed wings as you say, "Let's switch places, you look uncomfortable."

"Oh."

Jimin stares at you as if you've grown two heads, the purples in his eyes twinkling under the overhead light as he cocks his head. He glances over his shoulder as if he had forgotten he even had wings, seemingly considering your offer for a second before shaking his head.

"That's okay. You're tired and the couch is more comfortable than this chair anyway," He smiles.

"Park, you're crammed in there," You huff, ignoring the warmth that creeps up the back of your neck at Jimin's consideration. "You have wings, I don't. Please take the couch."

You can tell from the gentle look that crosses Jimin's face that he's going to chivalrously deny your offer once again. Before you can stop yourself, the part of your brain that maybe cares just a little opens your mouth and you find yourself saying, "Then let's share the couch at least. It would still be better than that chair."

For a moment, the shock on your face is mirrored on Jimin's. The bird hybrid shakes off the surprise much quicker, his smile brightening to a grin as he pushes himself out of the chair.

"Well, if you insist, then I'll gladly accept your offer."

The couch dips under Jimin's weight, his deep blue wings taking up so much space it almost feels like you've squeezed in another person between the two of you.

"Are you sure this is okay?"

You can tell by Jimin's shuffling that he's trying to make himself as small as possible and that just won't do. You won't allow him to view himself as an inconvenience.

Scooting forward on the couch, you leave a decent gap behind your back and the seat, making room for Jimin's wings.

"There, you can relax them a bit if you'd like. It looks painful holding your wings so tightly to your back all the time."

You look away before you can read Jimin's expression, turning back to the tablet in your lap. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, belatedly realizing that maybe you just overstepped a boundary – that maybe it would've been better to wait until Jimin asked instead of just assuming what he needed.

Your cheeks turn warm with embarrassment as you mindlessly click around on the screen, your mind elsewhere as you try to come up with a decent apology. Judging by how Jimin hasn't said anything yet, you fear that you really did do something inappropriate.

Just as the words reach the tip of your tongue, your hands clenched awkwardly in your lap, you feel movement behind your back. Jimin lets out a deep, relieved sigh as he loosens up the position of his wings, letting them splay out as much as the couch allows. Even with the added space you gave him, his wings are so large that you can feel the feathers ruffling against the back of your shirt in tandem with Jimin's breaths.

"Thank you."

Jimin says it so softly that it catches you off-guard, your heart skipping a beat from how tender his voice sounds.

It seems it has caused your brain to short-circuit, because the next thing that comes out of your mouth is, "Are they heavy? Your wings, I mean."

Jimin is quiet for a moment. "Yes and no? They're the same as any other limb so I'm normally not very conscious of them. I don't notice the weight, but they can get tired and achy, just like an arm. Choosing to work for a human-based company probably wasn't the best decision on my part – it's not exactly made to accommodate someone like me."

You see Jimin shrug out of the corner of your eye.

"I see," You murmur.

The pit of your stomach feels unexpectedly heavy. Even though Jimin is your sworn nemesis, it still upsets you that he has accepted that hurting himself is the only way he'll be able to fit in. It makes you wonder if Hoseok is experiencing the same thing too – if the deer hybrid hasn't told you simply because he's expected as a hybrid to change himself to fit in alongside humans.

Jimin lightly knocks his arm into yours, the touch shaking you out of your thoughts.

"We should start reviewing our work if we want to go home today," He says, raising an eyebrow as he angles his tablet in your direction. "But if you want to spend more time with me–"

"There's no time like the present, let's start reviewing!" You sputter, tapping your screen rapidly in other to wake it back up.

Jimin lets out a low snort at how easily flustered you are, hiding his smile behind his hand as he begins to look through your collected ideas.

Once your embarrassment dies down, you find that the review session with Jimin goes by without a hitch. For the most part, you both agree on what ideas to keep and which to scrap, making your review session more productive than you had anticipated. You had imagined that Jimin would oppose all of your picks just to torture you, but it's quite the opposite. The bird hybrid listens and agrees with your chosen ideas and for the few he doesn't like – he provides good reasons as to why they won't work. You find yourself nodding along to his criticism, agreeing with the points you hadn't thought of yourself. Not only that, Jimin seems to do the same – in turn valuing your input and insight when you go through his proposed plans. It's such a stark contrast to the Jimin you've gotten used to that it's enough to make you wonder if you stepped into an alternative universe this morning.

You pause as you click on the next slide, your brows furrowing as you see a familiar idea. 

You had included it in your proposal to Mr. Shin, the same one you threw away and never got to turn in. So how did it end up here?

"What's this?" You ask Jimin, pointing to your screen. "I never submitted these ideas."

"Ah," Jimin glances at your tablet, scratching the feathers at the back of his neck as he admits, "I did."

"I saw you throwing out your proposal when Mr. Shin announced that he had picked mine. It didn't feel right that you spent so much time on it and didn't even get to submit it because of me so I, well, turned it in for you. After you left that day."

You blink at him. "You went through my trash?"

"Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that!" Jimin groans. "I wanted us both to have an equal chance. Once Mr. Shin looked at it, he realized that your ideas were just as good as mine and wanted them implemented. I was favored because I'm a transfer, that's all. And I would never steal your ideas – I told him that I would refuse to use your concepts if you weren't willing to work together on this project."

You're not sure you like how it makes your stomach flutter. The high walls you've built to protect yourself are crumbling more and more with each passing day you spend together.

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

The smile Jimin gives you is almost blinding, his wings curving slightly inward almost as if they're trying to get a little closer to you.

You hate to admit it but maybe Jimin isn't as bad as you made him out to be. You may have imagined him as your enemy, someone who only wanted to tear you down and steal your opportunities, but so far Jimin has been nothing but nice to you. A little annoying sometimes sure, but he's never done anything malicious.

You offer him a smile in return, noting how the tops of his cheeks seem a little more red than usual.

Maybe it's about time that you admit that Jimin deserves a second chance.

"I've missed you," Jungkook whines, clinging to your arm. "Work is so boring without you!"

"We literally eat lunch together every day," You laugh.

You use your sleeve to wipe off the layer of dust that has settled on your monitor over the last few weeks. Jungkook holds on tighter to your other arm, pouting as he says, "That's not the same."

"I know," You sigh, lightly knocking your head against Jungkook's, "I missed you too."

After six weeks of working with Jimin in that small room, it almost feels foreign to be back at your desk with so many people milling about. You're honestly thankful that the bird hybrid had a meeting outside the office today, it gives you half a day to work without any disruptions. Your poor heart needs a few hours of calm and there's nothing like Jungkook's antics to take your mind off the rather confusing feelings you've been dealing with lately.

"Soooo.." Jungkook leans back in his chair, his eyes wide with faux innocence as he asks, "How has it been working with the enemy?  You haven't complained as much the last couple of weeks."

It seems you're quiet for just a moment too long, Jungkook letting out a gasp as he exclaims, "Don't tell me Park Jimin has won you over?"

"Shut up," You huff, knocking his hand away from your arm. You bite the inside of your cheek, annoying flashes of Jimin's smile as you accept the coffee he brings you every morning – and how he never ceases to be irritatingly attentive and kind – racing through your mind.

"I guess he isn't as bad as I first thought," You concede.

Jungkook hums, avoiding your sharp glare as he turns to his computer. You can tell from the slight smirk on his face that he definitely isn't going to let this go – he's just going to wait until the perfect moment to interrogate you.

"Interesting."

"Don't make it weird," You hiss, "He's just a decent person, nothing more."

Jungkook nods. "As I said – interesting."

You rub the skin between your brows, already regretting not faking your disdain for Jimin. It seems your time apart from Jungkook has softened you too much and made you forget just how much of a persistent gremlin he can be when he thinks there's some juicy gossip to be uncovered.

You boot up your computer with a groan. You still have four hours to go before Jimin will return to the office and Jungkook is going to use every available second to interrogate you until he does. A fleeting, hopeful thought crosses your mind that maybe Jimin will come back sooner than he's supposed to in order to save you. Just as soon as you realize what you were just daydreaming about, you pinch your leg so hard it makes you wince, bringing yourself back to reality.

You were so excited to have some time away from Jimin but the moment he's gone, you're what, missing him?

You shake your head, ignoring the little flutter in your stomach that confirms you're right.

Sure, Jimin might be charming and sweet when it's just the two of you but the bird hybrid is an absolute flirt and you really shouldn't be reading anything into his advances. It's a recipe for getting hurt.

It seems the time you've spent alone with him has made you forget just how shameless he is when it comes to getting attention. You don't have to wait very long, only a few hours in fact, until that reminder smacks you in the face again.

"You're so annoying," You whine, giving Jungkook's chair a shove.

The moment Mr. Shin left his office for a meeting in another department, it was like the whole floor exhaled, low chatter bursting to life as the elevator doors closed. 

Jungkook had seen it as his chance to get some answers, his mischief mode activated, and the constant pestering was starting to get on your nerves.

"Says you," Jungkook huffs, rolling himself back to his desk. "It's a simple yes or no question! Do you like him or not?"

"I tolerate him," You say, narrowing your eyes as Jungkook grabs the arms of your chair.

He pulls your chair flush with his, his own eyes narrowing in return, "That's not what I asked."

"Too bad," You wave your hand, "That's all you're going to get."

"Don't make me tickle you," Jungkook shakes out his fingers, "You know both of us will regret that."

"Jungkook, that's inappropriate! We're at work," You hiss as you snatch one of his hands out of the air, pressing it firmly against his chest. You're not going to let Jungkook expose you as a tickle squealer in front of your coworkers just because he's curious about something you don't have an answer to yet.

"What's inappropriate?"

You jerk back at the sound of Jimin's voice, shocked that you didn't notice the bird hybrid approaching your desks. You drop Jungkook's hand as you notice Jimin's burning stare, his violet eyes fixated on where your skin touched your friend. The fact that you feel so flustered by Jimin's sudden appearance makes it hard to think, your brain refusing to catch up.

"Nothing?" You squeak. You quickly clear your throat as Jungkook snickers under his breath, adding more confidence to your voice as you say, "It's nothing. You.. You're back earlier than expected, though?"

Jimin's gaze flickers between the two of you slowly, his expression unreadable. "The meeting didn't take as long as they first assumed. They offered to take us out to lunch to make up for it but I told them I already had an appointment I couldn't be late for."

Your heart thumps in your chest as Jimin pointedly looks your way. Surely he didn't rush back just to ask you out to lunch like he always does?

"Anyway," Jimin says, "I wanted to tell you that I'm back and that we can hold our progress meeting after our break is over."

"Right, sounds good," You smile.

"Talking about taking a break–"

Alarm bells start going off the moment you register Jungkook's teasing tone. The swift kick you land on the bottom of his chair is ignored, Jungkook's doe eyes spelling nothing but trouble as he continues, "If you don't have any lunch plans yet, Jimin-ssi, you'd be welcome to join us today."

It takes everything in you to not reach out and throttle him. You have no doubt Jungkook is doing this partly for the drama and partly because he thinks he's helping you in some roundabout way, but this is not it.

"I'm sure Jimin has some prior arrangement already–"

"I'd love to," Jimin's feathers ruffle happily behind his back, his beaming smile directed at you and only you, like you were the one to personally invite him. The force of it makes your heart race.

"Great!" Jungkook claps his hands, undeterred at being ignored. "Mr. Shin won't be back until the end of the day and there's only ten minutes left until lunchtime, so how about we head down now?"

Jungkook sends you a pointed look before you can protest. "Half the floor has already left, so we won't get in trouble."

"Fine," You smile through your teeth, your fleeting plan of sending Jimin to his desk and using that time to slip away foiled before you could even set it into motion. "Let's go eat lunch, then. Together."

"Let's," Jimin grins, taking a step towards the door. The bird hybrid's wings seem bigger than before, more relaxed, as he waits for you and Jungkook to grab your things.

You drag your feet as you follow Jimin, dreading the not-so-subtle questions you're sure Jungkook will be asking to test the water for you. While Jungkook is one of your closest friends and an overall great guy, you think his biggest flaw might be how much of a meddler he is.

"You and your damn muscles," You huff as Jungkook manhandles you into the elevator, blocking any chance you have at escaping.

"Please, you love them."

You only roll your eyes in response, knowing he isn't entirely wrong. You do like the extra space his muscles provide on packed elevator rides but aside from that, you couldn't be more neutral about Jungkook's body.

"Oh?" Jimin inquires, his violet eyes staring intently at Jungkook's arms, "They don't look that big?"

"I'll show you," Jungkook puffs out his chest, gladly offering his arm to the bird hybrid as a chance to show off.

Jimin wraps his hands around Jungkook's bicep, his gaze briefly flickering over to you before it returns to the man next to him. Something awed, maybe jealous, passes over Jimin's face as Jungkook flexes his muscles.

The bird hybrid doesn't shy away from squeezing and feeling up his arm, a sly smile crossing his lips as he says, "I didn't think you could get more handsome Jungkook-ssi, but look at you."

Jungkook sputters at the unexpected compliment, his cheeks turning red under Jimin's undivided attention.

You cross your arms, something unpleasant bubbling in your stomach as you watch Jimin's touch linger, the bird hybrid offering a few more compliments before the elevator announces its arrival.

Jimin exits first, leaving a flustered Jungkook behind. He looks at you with big eyes, hand covering the left side of his chest as he says, "Oh, he is good at this. I think my heart fluttered a little."

You swallow thickly, the reprimanding voice of your past self echoing in your head, reminding you that this is what Jimin is - a flirt. You're not special for receiving a little more of his attention lately, it's all just circumstance.

"You should get that checked out," You mutter, stepping out of the elevator to catch up with the bird hybrid.

Your goal is to do everything as quickly as possible – get your food, eat, and get out. But even you couldn't have expected just how awkward lunch would be.

From the moment Jimin took his seat next to you, you could feel the other people in the cafeteria staring you all down with envy. The situation certainly isn't made better by Jungkook and Hoseok - the two of them openly gawking and giggling whenever Jimin makes a comment that's even remotely funny. You know Jimin is charming, you can't deny that yourself, but you expected a little more resilience from your friends.

In the end, you end up picking at your food, unable to stomach much with the growing pit in your belly.

"Are you okay?" You glance over at Jimin, noting the concerned furrow between his brows.

"I'm fine," You force a wobbly smile, "I think I must have eaten something bad for breakfast."

"Should I go get you some medicine? There's a pharmacy right around the corner."

"It's fine." You quickly shake your head as Jimin begins to stand up, grabbing his arm to pull him back down into his seat. The bird hybrid doesn't seem convinced, his wings ruffling with protest behind his back.

"Wait, Y/n, did you try one of the protein shakes I gave you for breakfast? I told you not to drink it on an empty stomach–"

Jungkook's voice turns muffled, blending into the background noise as you shift your eyes from Jimin and meet hers across the room.

It's the same woman, the bird hybrid from Jimin's old department, who stops by your little makeshift office every day to drag him out for lunch. She's a swan, you think, known to be awfully territorial over what they consider to be theirs. And you have no doubt that she's staked her claim on Jimin, regardless of whether he knows or not. 

But he's not hers.

And he's not yours either.

The realization feels like a shot to the heart.

Even from the other side of the cafeteria, you can tell her gaze is venomous as she stares you down. The uneasy feeling in your stomach keeps growing, clawing at your insides, desperate to get out. She's looking at you like she knows what you're thinking – what you're feeling – they all are, and you absolutely cannot let Jimin find out.

"Uhm," You hastily push yourself to your feet, "I need to use the bathroom. I'm not feeling good."

You scurry off as fast as your legs can carry you, ignoring the familiar voices that call out your name. You don't stop until you reach the bathroom that's a little ways down the hall from the cafeteria.

Locking yourself in a stall, you sink onto the closed toilet lid, hands covering your face.

"Fuck," You whisper.

You like Jimin.

You can't pinpoint exactly when it happened but in retrospect, it's obvious your feelings for him have been growing for a while now, blossoming into something beyond your control. The worst part is – you don't even know if Jimin is single. It's never been a subject that has interested you before recently and you honestly just assumed that he must be taken based on the amount of attention he always garners when he walks into a room.

You take a deep breath, lightly slapping your face to bring yourself back to reality.

Jimin might be taken but he might also not be. You won't know for sure until you ask - or well, until you get Jungkook to not-so-casually bring it up with him. You might have a chance.

Until then, you just have to go out there and pretend that nothing has changed, that all is still like it was. You still have a job to do, regardless of your feelings.

Quickly washing your hands, you brace yourself to walk back into the cafeteria. Your flushed appearance can be blamed on not feeling good – you're certainly not going to admit it's because you finally understand that you like Jimin.

You tap your hands on your trousers as you step out of the bathroom, making sure they're dry as you walk back down the hallway.

Your steps halt as you reach the corner, your feet rooted to the ground as you hear Jimin's hushed voice in tandem with another. You plaster yourself to the wall, holding your breath as you listen in to what they're talking about.

"Be serious!" A female voice hisses. The swan hybrid.

"You expect her to help you? To treat you right? She's human, Jimin-ssi, she doesn't know anything about what it means to be a hybrid."

The swan hybrid spits out the word like it's a curse, followed by the sound of annoyed, rustling feathers.

"Do you think she's going to even look at you once your little project is over? She's just going to run back to her "friend"."

Oh.

She's talking about you.

The anxiety bubbling in your stomach roars back to life, your hands shaking as you find you can't do anything but listen - your feet unable to move.

Jimin's silence feels like a knife through the heart. Surely he doesn't think anything is going on between you and Jungkook? He knows you're just friends. And even so, you believed that you had grown closer lately, so much so that maybe you would continue to talk even when the project was over. But judging by his lack of response, it seems that you haven't given Jimin that impression at all.

"She doesn't deserve you. She can't do the things I can do, babe. "

You hear a deep sigh, Jimin's, his voice tight as he admits, "You're right. I know that.  She's not you–"

Before you even realize it, you're already halfway down the hallway, feet carrying you straight back to the bathroom. Your blood is roaring in your ears, the last part of Jimin's sentence mercifully too muffled for you to hear.

It seems you got this all wrong. It doesn't matter if Jimin is single, because he clearly doesn't like you like that. It seems the kindness he's been showing you has just been him being a good co-worker, keeping things civil and friendly.

You must have been projecting your feelings onto him, reading into things that didn't even exist.

How mortifying.

You stumble back into the same stall you only left a few minutes prior, eyes burning, as you lock the door behind you. You're not sure which emotion is strongest – disappointment, embarrassment, heartbreak, but it hurts all the same.

You can only hope that Jimin hasn't noticed your growing interest in the same way as the swan hybrid had.

There's only one thing you can do to save yourself from further humiliation, to make sure that doesn't happen. 

You have to pretend your feelings never changed. That you only tolerate him at best.

You have to pretend until it becomes true again.

Maybe it's time to go back to how things were, to distance yourself. Even if you fooled yourself into hoping for something more, the truth is that there is only one thing you and Jimin can be.

Enemies.

a/n: welcome back! it sure wasn't my plan to spend two months on this chapter but i've been jumping from one assignment to another and i've been more or less sick this entire time, so it sadly took me much longer than expected :( but here we are with ch 2! there will be three chapters total for this fic, so we still have one more to go.

what do you think so far? will jimin be able to clear up this misunderstanding and will the mc trust him enough to accept it? 🫣

i would love to hear your thoughts so far and reblogs are very much appreciated 💖