#pjm scenario

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: March 2024

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty or dark as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | 💜 (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐Mistletoe @belovedkingx [9.3k]  // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, f2l // 🥰🥵

📝 christmas is all about spending time with the ones you love, having fun and creating beautiful memories but that was never how it turned out for you. You were dreading the annual family Christmas, but an idea was proposed to you, and shockingly Namjoon agreed to it as well as yourself. But will it help or will it turn out to be a mistake?

🗨️ this was just so cute 🥹🥰

⭐Holiday Shambles @ressjeon [5k]  // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, married!au // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 when you have to spend time with both your parents and Namjoon’s snobby ones for this Christmas, you’re forced to show the best version of you even knowing what’s to come. you’re ready, right? after all, you’re the best wife aren’t you?

🗨️ this is so hilarious, cute and sweet 🥹 Loved it✨

⭐New Guy @kithtaehyung [5k] // knj x f.reader // university!au, e2l // 🥵

📝 all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance. but the new guy is completely disrupting things… or is he?

🗨️ so many feels about this one; all good and dirty ones!!! I had a feeling about the twist but I wasn’t sure. But I would very much love for a Joonie in grey joggers to knock on my door please 🥺🤭 Anyway, it was extremely good, as is everything you do and write! And it was so fucking HOT, like the tension, incredible! It really had me 🥵 So, so fucking good— love it 💖💯

⭐Entirety @btsgotjams27 [3.3k] // knj x f.reader // slice of life!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 namjoon is the complete package, except for the fact that he won’t make the first move.

🗨️ AFGJFKGHLKFDHGJGKJHG— 🥵🥵🥵 Yes, I’ve resulted to key smashing because I’m speechless, but I’ll try to give a few words anyway: first, this was incredibly hot, I can’t even begin to articulate properly, and the writing, like I’m a so in love with the writing, like the language is so descriptive and imaginative that I can clearly imagine every little fucking detail— and the words? Well they just flow seamlessly! ✨

⭐My Plus One @btsgotjams27 [5.4k] // ksj x f.reader // fake dating!au, i2l // 🥰🌩️

📝 when you and jin have weddings to attend, you decide to help one another by agreeing to being each other's plus ones.

🗨️ It was so sweet, it was cute and fluffy and so damn funny! Like there were so many times I was just laughing with the biggest grin plastered on my face. So thank you, thank you for writing this and for cheering me up ✨💯

⭐Meet Me at the Bar [epilogue] @eoieopda [7.5k]  // ksj x f.reader // law school!au, study buddies, bf2l // 🥰😂🥵

📝 you're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

🗨️ omg these two cute fools are so fucking adorable 😭 It was really good, loved everything in it, the writing, the characters and how they have been in love with each other for so long but never said anything to each other, and FINALLY, BAM ✨

⭐Forever @oddinary4bts [25.2k] // ksj x f.reader // idol!au, ex-fiancés to lovers // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 three years ago, your relationship with jin ended in fights and tears. When life puts him back on your path, you catch a glimpse of light in his eyes that you thought had died when you broke up. Will your relationship blossom into a well-deserved forever or will you lose the love of your life again?

🗨️ so much love and sadness in this! The nostalgia is high, there’s a lot of feelings, a lot of heartbreak. The thoughts about going back for fear of getting your heart broken again, or moving on and shielding the broken pieces of heartbreak? Fuck! So fucking good. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: everything Ella writes is just pure gold 🥹✨

⭐A Time Just for Us [part of a completed series] @bluewhale52 [5.4k]  // myg x f.reader // established relationship, idol!au // 🥰🥵

📝 you are desperate for a baby.

🗨️ I haven’t even read the series– like I started with this, but it was so freaking good! It was somehow cute, but very very very dirty 😂🥵

⭐Cat Cafes and More @jeonsbabygirlsworld [0.7k]  // myg x f.reader // established relationship // 🥰

📝 you insist yoongi to visit the cat cafe which has cats up for adoption which ends up you adopting a white Persian cat even though you have holly with you both.

🗨️ omg this was just so fucking cute 😭💕Overall just a really cute, fluffy and lovely drabble 🥰💜

⭐Less of Them [ongoing series] @casuallyimagining [currently loading] // myg x f.reader // established relationship, arranged marriage!au, star-crossed lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰🪄

📝 as the daughter of one of the oldest families in the kingdom, when the king decides that it's you he wishes to marry, you're forced to make a decision and fulfill your duty, leaving behind everything you've ever known--and the only man you've ever loved.

🗨️ this chapter was so fucking good, I don’t even know where to begin! First, it was so sad and emotional (at least for me 😭), like OC has been through so fucking much 😭 The poor thing is traumatized and the whole paragraph about her learning the royal life that her father never could have prepared her for 😭😭😭 It’s such an amazing story, you simple have to read it if you haven’t. There’s two out of three parts out.

⭐Would u? [3tan drabble ongoing series] @kithtaehyung [2.3K]  // myg x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au // 🥰

📝 you see a certain fruit-centered trend online.. and decide to test it on yoongi.

🗨️ so fucking sweet and fluffy… This was just so cute, I just love this couple and I can’t get enough of them omg 🥹 and reader being on her period and Yoongi just distracting her pain away, by naturally being himself and doing mundane things 🥹 so domestic I love it! 😭✨ And the tangerines 😭😭😭💖

⭐Strawberry Sundae @youtifulhobi [6k] // jhs x f.reader // slice of life!au, lifeguard!hobi, olympian swimmer!reader, established relationship // 🥰

📝 a few years after you begin dating Jung Hoseok, the two of you reminisce about how you met when he was a lifeguard and saved you from drowning, when in reality you had just fell off your strawberry floatie and he just wanted to talk to you.

🗨️ honestly, this is just fucking cute, adorable really! I really loved it and it’s definitely one of my favorite Hoseok fics now 🥰💯

⭐Sweetest Crush @minjoonalist [4.7k] // jhs x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au // 🥵

📝 what would you do if your friend’s younger sibling suddenly asks you for sex?

🗨️ KBFKDSBFKGH it was so filthy I don’t even know what I read (also there’s just something about a brother’s best friend!!!) 🥵😂

⭐Melatonin @taeinparis [3k] // jhs x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 sleeping at night was difficult for you, and atop of your boyfriend’s lawn mower-esk snoring, it was impossible. But luckily for you, he knows just the remedy to cure your sleeplessness (and hopefully his snoring).

🗨️ Iiiih this was so dirty, I loved it 💖 there was also a dash of fluff sprinkled in there, but mainly just smut 😂 🥵✨

⭐Our ‘Get Along’ Shirt @dreamyjoons [14.2k] // pjm x f.reader // e2l // 🥵

📝 another day, another endless round of you and Jimin bickering. It’s never ending, all-consuming, and your friends have had enough. Namjoon decides to end it once and for all - with help from a shirt for squabbling toddlers.

🗨️ JFHKJSFKSDJDH— This was so fucking hilarious 😂 The sexual tension between them was SO HIGH 🥵 and when they finally snapped, oh dear God, it was so good! And the whole shit concept, so hilarious and their banter 😂 AND THE SWEAT??? I’m weak okay!! So freaking good, I loved it so much and Namjoon and the rest of the gang were just priceless. Jin at the end had me laughing so hard 🤭💯

⭐Just a Taste @yoonieper [14.2k] // pjm x f.reader // vampire!au, established relationship // 🥵🌩️😂

📝 they said having a relationship with a human wasn’t a good idea, but Jimin liked you too much to ever let that get in the way. Your relationship was beautiful, yes you didn’t know that small important detail about him being a bloodthirsty vampire, but he had it under control. That’s at least what he thought, he never would have predicted a drought….

🗨️ FUCK 😭 This was so fucking good I don’t even know where to begin??? The story in itself was so extremely good, whaaat. And Jimin was so nice, and their love for each other, so fucking pure 💜 This was an emotional rollercoaster and I fucking loved everything about it 😭 and the smut, God, it was so good— I don’t know what to say 😭 And then at the ending, the angst, fuck, I was so afraid if it was going to end just like that, but I was so glad that they found each other again 😭 This is a new favorite of mine, so good, it was slightly sad at times, like angsty, but the love that the have for each other, FUCK. So so fucking incredible 😭 Don’t mind all the crying, it’s happy tears, I promise 💖💯 Also, it’s mostly told in Jimin’s POV, which I just freaking love and it makes the story so good!!!

⭐High on Love @peachypinkygloss [6.4k] // pjm x f.reader // established relationship, racer!jimin // 🥵

📝 Jimin has once again won a race and he takes you out on a ride for the night, taking dangerous but very exciting risks. He should have expected that the rush of adrenaline in your body always turns you into a horny mess.

🗨️ I am just BLOWN AWAY by the fic– holy molly, was it dirty? Yes! Needy? Yes! Cute? Yes! Oh and the car racing, love, love, love! Like, everything in this. And the smut 🥵🥵🥵 I mean, it was so dirt and needy (yes I know I’m using the same words, lol), but FUCK. Incredible! Another ont to add to my faves ✨ And a big bonus for the phone messages, because that was fucking hot too!!! 🥵💯

⭐Bodyguard (there’s a pt 2) @yoonpobs [2.1k] // kth x f.reader // e2l, bodyguard!au // 🥵

📝 you protect taehyung from people but forget about the biggest threat. yourself.

🗨️ omg 🥵 This extremely good, so enticing and there was just all the build up sexual tension at the end— ugh! So good! 🥵 There wasn’t any smut in it, but damn it, it was still very lustful (I love those undertones). What’s not to love? It’s short, sweet and sensual ✨💯 There’s even a part two that I haven’t read yet!!!

⭐New Tricks @geniuslab [10.1k] // kth x f.reader // dog trainer!au, s2l // 🥵😂🥰

📝 when your newly adopted puppy turns out to be a lot more work than you expected, a cute dog trainer comes to the rescue. You soon become friends, but you begin to realize friendship might not be all you want.

🗨️ awww this was so fucking cute and fluff, I loved it som much 💖💯

⭐In my Head @sketchguk [8k] // kth x f.reader // college!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 taehyung’s friends love you ー adore you. they probably want to fuck you, but they’ll never admit to it. instead, they’ll push taehyung’s limits in the middle of a frat party, testing just how close they can get to you before he takes you to bed in a fit of jealousy. and maybe, just maybe, one of his friends can have a taste too (if he’s lucky).  

🗨️ okay, okay. This was hella 🥵 Like WOAH, filthy, steamy and just dirty! I am so mad at Taehyung though! Like why can’t he be with OC? What is it that he can’t give her? But tbh, with the way that he’s acting, I feel like she should just get with one of his friends instead 😭 Like, it seems like Guk loves her so much, or Jimin, the little freak he was in this 🥵 

⭐Gold Rush @ditttiii [4.4k] // kth x f.reader // s2l!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 kim taehyung is a walking heartbreak waiting to happen. all narrow eyes and long nose and devilish smirks, he is everyone’s dream. after months of sharing an elevator with the man who makes your heart race until you can scarcely breathe when the chance finally comes; are you willing to risk it all for his touch?

🗨️ OMG— I finally got to read this, and FUCK. SHIT. It is INSANELY beautiful (and sad too 🥹). But goddamn it, the love OC has for Taehyung, oh my. And the bittersweet feelings are what makes this hauntingly beautiful 💖 Again, I have a hard time coming up with words, words for how beautiful this masterpiece truly is 😭 Just— perfection 💯 Also, because it was so bittersweet, I really love the open ending, like getting to imagine whatever you like for this couple 😭💜

⭐To Give a Helping Hand (part 2) @oddinary4bts [3.1k] // jjk x f.reader // idol!au // 🥵

📝 when Jungkook finally approaches you at the gym, he realizes you’ve been wanting him just as badly as he’s been wanting you.

🗨️ In case you haven’t read part two, here’s your psa to do so right now. It’s just incredible (as everything that Ella writes, tbh ✨). OC is really being a brat in this one and JK is down baaaaaad 🥵

⭐Desire [ongoing series] pt1 + pt2 @jeonsbabygirlsworld [3k]  // jjk x f.reader + myg x f.reader (ft. eunwoo) // slice of life!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 life was easy until you meet the eye candy of your life and the adventure with him is a hell of ride, but there is certain someone who seems to get hurt in this.

🗨️ It’s a very interesting story, it’s very complex and I can’t wait to read more!

⭐When Worlds Collide [ongoing series] @letjungcoook7 [currently loading…] // jjk x f.reader // college!au, slice of life!au, s2l, fuckboy!jk, virgin!reader // 🥵🌩️

📝 since your mother's passing a year ago, life has been a whirlwind. balancing your passion for ballet with a low-key presence at college, where you’re the top student, was your norm until Jungkook stepped into your world. known for his reputation preceding him, jungkook is the talk of the campus with his casual rendezvous that have the girls buzzing. despite his allure, you're puzzled by his need for your tutoring prowess, especially given his own academic merit. yet, succumbing to his persistent requests, you reluctantly agree, only to find yourself thrust into the spotlight you've always avoided.

🗨️ I’ve read the first two parts and they are AMAZING! The story is so interesting and I already know that there’s so much more to Jungkook and OC in this one. So exciting to read more!! ❤️‍🔥

⭐Liquor Lips @letjungcoook7 [1.5k] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵

📝 author didn’t write a summary.

🗨️ it was incredible good, like I want to read more (it’s not a series though!). It’s the perfect dirty little one-shot/drabble ❤️‍🔥

This month was really tough for me, mentally… I struggled with my own mental health and it got really bad. I was writing my major series (18 chapters god what was I thinking 😂) at the same time (still am lol), and I struggled with reading as I used to, so the list isn’t as long as normally, maybe, I did try to read a lot by the end of the month to make up for it. But yeah 🫶 Hopefully I have more time next month, because I expect to finish my series there, and then I’ll take a small break from writing and just read, because I really miss it 🥹 

If you want more, you’re more than welcome to follow me! I do monthly rec lists and sometimes I post my own writing too (only bangtan). 

Love you and Borahae 💜

[doodlekoo]

OUCH | pjm

Summary: you hurt your foot and Jimin thinks your gonna die

Pairing: boyfriend!jimin x fem?reader (mentions pronouns a few times)

Word count: 2.4k

Rating: PG

Genre/Warnings: established relationship, injury, pain, implied?verbal abuse, explicit language, kissing, FLUFF HEH (my favourite), oc is so in love with Jimin

Note: hello fellow fluff lovers, i’m so sorry i’ve been ia for 10 months i was focusing on finishing my final year for college. tbh creative writing isn't my strong point it’s more of a side hobby so please understand i won’t be updating regularly i’ll probably be posting more so when I'm bored and feel like it ahahaha. I do want to point out thanks to all those who liked my previous stories. I really do appreciate it it’s great motivation!! anywho this story was based on when i hurt my foot (it was a more gross story but still hurt like a bitch) i tried limping home but the entire time i wished someone would carry me and care for me the way jimin does in the ff (sad i know). i originally wanted it to be longer going into detail about Jimin’s backstory but i thought short and sweet was better SO ENJOY i hope you all like it :)

and as always please let me know what you guys think and if you want more stories like this! please also leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed reading! :D

A warm sensation spreads through your body, engulfing you in a comforting embrace. You couldn't help but smile as a sense of contentment washed over you. The day had been a success. You followed every command and every instruction that your superiors had asked you to follow. Starting a new job was a challenging experience, one you hadn’t gone through before. The memory of your previous employment still haunts you, the echoes of your coworkers' voices reverberating in your mind as they berated you for the slightest of missteps. Not only was it stressful to deal with that every day, but you would also feel even more drained coming home after the endless regrets ran through your mind.

The more you worked at that god-awful place, the more your thoughts grew—were these issues truly insignificant, or were they looming large and you simply lacked the perspective to see them?

Your boyfriend, Jimin, was constantly begging you to quit the job since the sight of you so wrapped up in absolute guilt crushed him every day. Jimin only wanted what was best for you. The stubbornness he had over you was often a hard take but it was only ever going to be beneficial. As the begs increased in volume, your guilt scaled high, resulting in an endless cycle.

You knew you had to do it. Gathering yourself mentally and emotionally to utter those two liberating words took a great deal of courage.

"I quit."

You said it slightly quietly, still unsure. but you were stern about it with an attempt at a demeaning stare. In your head, you felt pretty confident with the way you delivered it, only to have that confidence descend with the sudden scoffs followed by the classic response, "Is that supposed to impress me?"

Perhaps Jimin was right. The testosterone in the room was unbearable at this point, and that slow, excruciating deterioration of your brain was just really not worth it. Staring back at your manager, you remained undeterred.

"I'll be handing in my notice tomorrow."

It was never worth creating an argument with your manager or anyone who lacked basic brain cells, in fact. That simple interaction only changed you for the better, and slowly but surely you felt you had a little more respect for yourself.

As you navigate the bustling street after your third shift, a palpable aura of rejuvenation surrounds you, causing your steps to take on a playful bounce. The faint aroma of coffee lingers on your clothes. The joy felt completely surreal, almost like time and space had been warped. Though the relentless bombardment of verbal abuse made your mind gradually deteriorate, it now made even the most challenging tasks a mere cakewalk.

The rain had been hammering down on the cafe windows for most of the day, so when you were met with the fortunate sun slowly peeking out from the clouds, you felt enveloped with its warmth, feeling it gradually filling your mind up with a little extra dose of serotonin.

Several metres or so away from your workplace, in a small back alley, you could smell the damp brick encroaching on your senses. Looking farther ahead, you saw the recent confrontation you were only slowly getting used to. It was amusing to you that a couple of steps were the only thing you had to worry about in your new day-to-day life. It was a sign that you were at least doing something right. You braced yourself for the steep steps that lay ahead while keeping in mind the wet, slick concrete.

And at that moment, the serotonin vanished. As the calmness of the moment dissipated, a surge of anxiety and adrenaline took over. Your heart plummeted as you failed to catch those final steps. Your foot barely brushes the step's edge. As you stumbled, your ankle gave way beneath you, sending you tumbling to the ground.

You squealed, trying not to make any noise, as a wave of pain shot from your foot up through your body when the weight followed.

"Ouch,"

You hissed in pain as you sat at the foot of the steps. Looking absolutely helpless. The surrealness seemed to slip away as the situation unfolded before your eyes. Your mind wandered in silence. As you glanced around, a wave of relief washed over you as you realised that no one had witnessed your mortifying disaster.

I'm fine. I'm fine. You managed to convince yourself that you could make it home since the distance to your house was less than a mile. I can limp; it's fine. You reached for the railing and attempted to pull yourself up, only to be reacquainted with the searing pain you'd felt before.

Fuck.

You personally don't like to worry excessively about pain and injuries because you've always considered it a waste of time to acknowledge the warnings your body gave you. As the numbness set in, you realised that the situation was far worse than you had initially thought. Your body lay still and unresponsive, leaving you with only your thoughts to keep you company.

Along with the overwhelming urge to get up and leave, you also had the nagging fear that someone could hear a small person yelping at the bottom of the steps and decide to make a huge deal out of it. You know one person, Jimin, who would take his time over an insignificant issue. He would be the one to hire a golden carriage and transport you in grandeur, as the conclusion to convincing you that you needed to rescue yourself from those said scary steps. That was the worst-case scenario in your mind. However, it reached the point where you would rather have him make this big of a deal than a complete stranger who would have thought you were weak, whereas Jimin was certain that you are not.

A soft, sad sigh escapes your lips as your hand instinctively reaches for the back pocket of your jeans. With fingers trembling in anticipation, you searched for Jimin's name. As you raised your phone to your ear, you sensed your heart rate accelerating. Your nerves were on edge, and you did not want to burden Jimin with any additional worries. Making Jimin anxious was punishment enough. Every day, catching a glimpse of Jimin's radiant smile was like a burst of sunshine, flooding your world with a second dose of serotonin. But the thought of not being able to bring that smile to his face or turn it into a beaming grin was gnawing at your insides.

"Hey, ___, I’m so sorry. I’ll be home soon! I’m just out with Namjoon and Hobi!" Jimins' amplified voice, together with the distant chatter in the background, echoed through the alleyway. "No, Jimin i-"

"It was just- Hobi wanted us to come see designs after work, and naturally we all piled into the bar! We are finishing up now!"

"Jimin, that's not why I'm calling…" You replied with a low tone.

"Huh?? Sorry babe, I can't hear you that well!" You chuckled to yourself at the agonising situation. Oh Jimin..

"Jimin, I fell.."

"Sorry, what was that??"

"I don’t know Jimin. I fell down these steps, and I can't get up. It's so embarrassing. I don't know what to do.."

"Shit. Stay there. I'm coming now. Where are you?" The way Jimin's entire demeanour shifts over the phone, it intimidates the hell out of you.

"I’m just outside that alleyway from my work... Do you know the one?"

"Yes, I do. I’ll be there in five minutes." And with that, Jimin ends the call.

"Fuck. That was my girlfriend. I’m so sorry guys, I have to go" Jimin, on the other hand, was shitting it. Hearing your frightened voice over the phone was enough for him to travel day and night to you.

"Is something wrong?" Namjoon asked, apprehensive. He'd only see Jimin's expression like this when something was seriously wrong.

"I'm not sure, I think she’s hurt. I'll see you guys soon." Jimin said, frantically stuffing all his things in his bag. "Aw, alright, I hope she’s okay," Hoseok chirped.

"I hope so too. Bye!!" And just like that, Jimin literally flew outside the bar door. Foot harsh on the pedal. On his way: to you.

You kept your eyes on the cracks along the walls, waiting for Jimin. In the end, a few people did come by, but you covered it up by sitting on the floor and talking on your phone, and they didn't seem to notice. It's currently quiet as the sun is descending. But eventually you could hear faint, sporadic panting in the distance. It was the said saviour of the day.

"___!! Oh my god, oh my god, are you okay?? What happened?!?" Jimin gasped, looking at you like a precious gem that had cracked.

"I’m alright, just a little stumble. But I can't stand up, and it’s annoying." With a faint chuckle, you replied. You looked up at him, hoping to see his gaze soften and persuade him that it wasn't such a major issue, but his anxious expression didn't fade.

Scrambling towards you, he examined your ankle carefully, gently touching it in the process.

"Hm, I’m not a doctor, but I think maybe you sprained it. We should go to the hospital." He announced it sincerely.

"NO. I mean- no Jimin, no hospital, please; it’s not a big deal."

"Are you sure? I mean, you said you couldn’t even stand up?" It was endearing that Jimin tried to convince you, but because you didn't want to feel even more embarrassed, you simply scowled at him and hoped he understood what you were trying to imply.

"Okay, okay, let’s go home then." Jimin let out a little giggle at your silliness. But he now knew it was time for him to take on the doctor role and oh how Jimin would take that role very seriously. "Right, I need to carry you to the car then, can you try and get on my back?"

Jimin crouched in front of you after turning around. You used your entire upper-body strength to push yourself onto Jimin's back by reaching for his shoulders. His arms came back around and supported you from behind before he stood up and repositioned you.

"You okay?" Jimin asks once again. "Yes. Thank you, Jimin."

You scoot closer to his back, not just so he can carry you, but also so you can embrace him. Jimin carefully made his way back up the steps and onto the busy street, attempting to find his way back to the car park. You felt embarrassed by the many stares so you cuddled your face closer into the back of Jimin's neck.

It felt safe there, and you could smell his perfume's mild flowery scent mingled with the peppermint notes of his shampoo. Oh, how he always smelled so good. You smiled into his neck and pecked him lightly. This elicited a slight chuckle from him.

Jimin gently places you in the passenger seat and carefully rearranges your legs. He tightens the seatbelt and ensures you're safe and secure. You glance up at him, speechless. After the manner in which he's been treating you, the decision to call him for assistance felt extremely justifiable. As your gaze lingers on Jimin, he catches your eye, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips once more.

"Is this okay?" Jimin asked with a grin. "Yes, Jimin, this is perfect." As your gaze met his, a rush of warmth flooded your heart. The way he looked at you with such tenderness and affection was a feeling beyond words. To have someone who cherished you so deeply was truly a gift beyond measure. A rosy hue crept up Jimin's cheeks, causing his smile to widen even further.

Closing your door and driving back to the house was quite quiet, but it also felt soothing and safe at the same time. Jimin carried you on his back once again while fumbling to retrieve his keys from his pocket to open the door. Making his way to the sofa, he plopped you down softly.

"Okay, wait there. Don't go anywhere; I’m going to find a bandage." You laughed and shook your head at his stupid yet endearing joke.

When Jimin returned 10 minutes later, he did not only return with a bandage but also with half the house. Blankets, pillows, comfy clothes, a big bowl of snacks, and on top, the said bandage. You couldn’t even see his concentrated face through the massive mountain of love.

Your laughs echoed throughout the room once again while Jimin dumped everything beside you. He then carefully helps you undress into your loungewear and, following a YouTube tutorial, attempts to wrap the bandage around your foot. Watching him all focused on you made your heart flip around the room. He is so adorable.

"Okay, I think that’s good. Now do you want a pillow under your foot as well?" Jimin asked you politely. "I think it’s alright like this." You look at him, smiling.

"Hm, scratch that, I’m getting you a pillow."

When Jimin returns from getting a pillow, he gently lifts your feet to place it beneath them. He then throws various fluffy blankets over you while tucking in the sides, making sure once again that you don’t go anywhere. Looking back at you, he moves in close, giving you a soft peck on your forehead. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he momentarily retreats before leaning back in, peppering your face with a flurry of playful kisses. The two of you erupt into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, your heads thrown back in pure love and joy.

"Now what should I put on the TV for you?" Jimin sits beside you after grabbing the TV remote. "Anything I don’t mind."

Jimin then proceeds to put on your favourite film. Pressing play; he looks at you with a soft smile. "Please be more careful; I hate seeing you hurt like this." He pats your head gently while wrapping his arm around you.

"I’ll try not to Jimin ''. You say as you move closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

Paying close attention to the rest of the movie, your sixth sense tells you Jimin isn't watching it at all; he's staring at your ankle, hoping nothing will hurt it any further.

[eoieopda]

menace (pjm) - pt. i

Just because you hate him doesn't mean you can't fuck him.

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 1/6 (Mini-Series) ⇢ Next Chapter | Masterlist Word Count: 1.8K Summary: Your shithead brother, Seokjin, is throwing his annual Valentine's Day party. You didn't want to go in the first place - and now his shithead friend, Jimin, is responsible for getting you there. Content: Smut (18+ - DON'T TEST ME, MINORS); Seokjin's younger sister AU; fuck buddies that hate each other; mean!Jimin; brat!Reader; spanking and one (1) pussy slap; degradation; v fingering; orgasm denial; ✨ t e n s i o n ✨ A/N: I've been marinating on this idea for a minute, so I figured why not try it on Valentine's Day with no prior warning? Jade chooses violence, always. I dedicate this to my wife, @jihopesjoint, because she deserves a Jimin fic for once, lmao. Tagging: @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @mgthecat @btschimeyplanet @jaejoontrashpanda @taebaelove @cyanide-mustard @xjoonchildx @jkoofier (couldn't tag)

“Stop gawking.”  

Your tone was flat, and your eyes were fixated on your own reflection as you fussed with your eyeliner. It had been made abundantly clear to Seokjin that you wanted nothing to do with this party, but your brother never listened. It’s tradition, he’d whined, the reservation has already been made.  

“I mean it. Fuck off.”

You broke the eye contact you’d been maintaining with yourself and glanced over your reflection’s shoulder. Standing and smirking near the door, Park Jimin cocked his head to the side. 

Far and away the worst of your brother’s friends, you added Jimin’s presence in your life to the long list of grievances you held against Seokjin. Other notable entries on that list were: Seokjin shirking off his promise to drive you to the club; asking Jimin to sub in on his behalf; and failing to inform you of the lineup change because he knew you'd kill him with advanced notice.  

On Jimin’s list of infractions — among many, many other things — was his refusal to let you finish getting ready at home. He was insufferable and impatient, but he was your last resort. Knowing this, he'd forced you to hurriedly pack up your cosmetics, which meant you had to finish applying them in the club’s green room.

That motherfucker. 

“Are they uneven on purpose?” Jimin scrunched up his nose in feigned confusion, gesturing back and forth between your black wings.  

You glanced at him briefly before returning your gaze to the task at hand. “Is there really nothing better you could be doing right now? Laying down in the middle of an intersection, perhaps?” 

“Here I was, thinking you’d be grateful for the attention. This is your second consecutive Valentine’s Day alone, isn’t it? Poor girl.” Jimin cooed.

When you didn’t turn to acknowledge him the way he expected, you heard footfalls approaching ominously from behind.  

“Attention’s what you want, isn’t it? Looking downright desperate in this fucking dress.” Jimin’s palm collided harshly with your ass cheek through the fabric of that fucking dress, fingers digging in and daring you to bruise.

He should’ve known by now what you could and couldn’t take; but if he’d somehow forgotten, your lack of reaction would serve as a necessary reminder. After all, not far from his grip was the bite mark he’d left you with last week. 

What is this — amateur hour? 

Your bored expression — blinking idly back at him in the mirror — incensed him and you knew it. Jimin’s frustration with you was palpable, never-ending, and wholly reciprocated. It vibrated off him, echoed off you, and trapped you in a perpetual fever pitch. It'd been like this for months, and you got the feeling that it’d stay this way until one of you cracked and tapped out. 

It sure as shit won't be me.

Eventually, his hand left you. Jimin himself, however, did not. He stayed put behind you and said nothing; simply watching in silence as you smoked out your lower lash-line with deep, matte brown. His expression was indecipherable, but undeniably focused.

You wondered if part of him relished moments like this. If — in the rare quiet where you weren’t fighting or fucking — he felt at peace. He certainly looked that way, but not for long.

You never let the dust settle, though; never let him get too comfortable, or think he was truly welcomed. You ruined it with pleasure, always, by opening your mouth and saying something sharp.  

Then, he’d do or say something cruel in response with the sole purpose of pissing you off. And then that toxic carousel would keep on turning. Around and around and around you went, each silently satisfied that the other was still spinning, too. 

Finally allowing Jimin to know that you’d caught him staring, you rolled your eyes. “How about, instead of leering at me, you go find Seokjin and make unsolicited observations about his love life? There’s plenty wrong there to keep you occupied.” 

He smirked, just slightly, still refusing to acknowledge the fact that he liked your sense of humor.  

“Or —” You drawled, painting your lashes black with mascara. “You could find someone to fuck that actually enjoys your presence. Statistically speaking, there has to be somebody for you.” 

When he turned on his heel and headed for the door, you expected that he was storming off. You didn’t look up, unaffected by his near-constant theatrics. That boy was entirely too dramatic, and if the one thing he wanted was your attention, he wasn’t going to get it.  

But instead of hearing the door fly open and then slam shut, you heard the lock engage. The faint, metallic click from across the room sent your heart into the seat of your throat. Soon enough, he was pressed against the back of you, hot breath causing your pulse to sprint. 

Jimin plucked the tube of mascara from your fingers, earning a glare. “This isn’t waterproof, is it?” he asked with a frown, eyes scanning the label. They flicked up to you and saw the unasked question on the tip of your tongue.  

“Because I’m going to make you cry.” His tone was matter of fact as his rough hand slid up the length of your spine to the space between your shoulders. Pinned with your cheek pressed into the countertop, you gasped. You immediately regretted that small concession. 

You couldn’t see Jimin's expression, but you knew without a doubt that he was sneering. He quickly gathered the short length of your dress in one hand, which he held tight at the small of your back. Even more harshly, his hands grabbed at the waistband of your thong. He dragged it down in one swift movement, well-practiced but never gentle.

The force of it all caused your cheekbone to dig harder into the countertop. You winced as it smarted, but inwardly, you loved it. Jimin would never hear you say as much, though.

Your underwear dropped unceremoniously around your ankles, leaving your center completely exposed and on-display. A loud smack erupted as his hand collided with the previously corrupted skin of your ass, undoubtedly leaving a fully formed handprint where he’d struck you. You hissed through gritted teeth, but the sting was quickly muted when he grabbed a handful of your delicate cheek, fingertips pinching hard. 

When he spanked you again, it wasn’t on the doughy flesh of your ass; it was your unsuspecting, already-aching cunt. Your mouth fell open and a whimper tumbled out. To your dismay, he removed his hand quickly and held it in front of your face.

“Do you see how fucking wet you are?” Jimin scoffed with fluorescent light glinting off his slicked fingers. “Already a mess, and I’ve barely touched you. You’re pathetic — you know that, right?” 

You mumbled your reply, but with your cheek pressed hard against the counter, you knew it was incomprehensible. He cocked his head once more in that arrogant, impossible way he always did. 

“Didn’t catch that, princess,” he said dryly. His hand spread under your jaw and gave you no choice but to look at him. “One more time, with feeling.” 

Insolence building in the pit of your stomach, you narrowed your eyes at him. Loud and clear, you bit back, “I said, you’re right. You’ve barely touched me, princess.” 

Judging by his flushed face, you had him feral. Good.  

Jimin grabbed your wrists and pulled you flush against his chest. One arm slid under yours, crossed diagonally across your heaving chest, and gripped the strap of your dress. His hold forced you up on your tiptoes, while his other hand forced your legs further apart. 

“Such a fucking brat,” Jimin growled against your neck, teeth then nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear. There was a brief flicker of amusement in his darkened eyes when your low moan escaped you. It quickly dissolved into involuntary mewling as his tongue flicked out to spread its heat over the marks he’d left there. “You want to be punished so badly, but I don’t think you can take it.” 

Your voice was breathy, weightless, but there was unwavering defiance in your words. “Try me.” 

Jimin had no choice but to respond to your challenge by dragging his fingers down the soft skin of your pelvis; the coolness of his rings left goosebumps in their wake. As his middle finger dipped down to your clit, you willed your knees not to buckle.  

“Eyes up,” He ordered, his laser-focused stare ricocheting off the mirror to you. When you rolled them instead, he pushed his long digit into you without warning. You jolted, wavering on your tiptoes for a moment until you were steadied by the forearm across your torso. “Eyes up.” 

You blinked, stunned, at your reflection. The hand gripping the strap of your dress dropped to the already hardened nipples peaking through the thin fabric above them. It was impossible to focus on the way he pinched at each of them, or the way he rolled them between his thumb and index finger, because his middle finger was curling against the spongy spot inside of you at an unforgiving pace. 

“You’ll need more than one if you intend to take all of me,” Jimin hummed deviously in your ear. “Have you earned two?” 

You nodded, turning to putty in his hands as he continued to abuse your g-spot. 

“Stupid girl,” Jimin clicked his tongue, then ordered, “Speak.” 

“Give it to me,” You spat, though the fight left you as soon as his ring finger slid into your weeping hole. It worked in tandem with his middle finger, scissoring and stretching you open. And then that goddamn thumb pushed hard into your clit, flicking at it cruelly.  

You were teetering on the edge of oblivion with white hot heat building in your core, and pleasured tears welling up in your eyes; but you were relentlessly bold. “Harder.” 

Jimin smirked as you rutted your hips against his hand. He let out another dry, damning laugh, and then he did the unforgivable: He pulled his digits out of you mere moments before your orgasm could crash over you like a wave.  

You scowled at him through the mirror, but you were thankful he couldn’t see the way your hammering heart dropped dead on the floor of your chest.  

“I hate you,” You seethed, panting. “Fucking menace.”

Jimin placed a chaste kiss on your temple, in total juxtaposition to how roughly you normally treated each other. “If I recall correctly, you told me to fuck off,” He murmured against your skin. The hand that abandoned you whispered down the length of your neck, then disappeared off the slope of your shoulder. “So, I’m off.”

When he sauntered over to the door, you were too furious to say anything. In fact, your jaw was clenched tightly enough to crack teeth. It only got worse when he called out over his shoulder with a lazy wave of his hand, “Fix your face. I warned you about that mascara.”

[taegularities]

love me better | pjm (m)

thank you so much for this absolutely stunning banner, maggie @kth1​​​​​ <33

Summary: “And your kisses taste bitter now after all.”

Park Jimin still remembers you from a fervent night, not expecting in his wildest dreams that you’d join his team to solve the case of the most dangerous thieves in the country. But he soon realises that of all things, you might be the hardest riddle he’s ever had to crack.

⋙ pairing: Jimin x reader ⋙ rating: 18+ ⋙ genre: strangers to lovers, bits of fwb, detective!au; angst, fluff, smut ⋙ warnings: quite some angst (don’t say i didn’t warn you), secrets secrets!, past minor character death/drowning (only mentioned), guns, (talk about) fears/past trauma, thefts and detective stuff, injuries, car accident, crying, unhealthy coping mechanisms, betrayal, bottled up feelings, some pov changes, hyung line cameo !! explicit sexual content: multiple (3) sex scenes, dom!jimin, sub!reader, unprotected sex (be responsible y’all), teasing, flirting, heavy sexual tension, fingering, oral (f. & m. rec.), dirty talk, lots of mid-sex convos lol, petnames, breast play, soft & rough sex, some aftercare, ... lmk if i forgot smth the fic is huge ⋙ word count: 36.7k (just like that.... sorry 😐) ⋙ a/n: GOSH IT’S FINALLY HERE. it took me 7. damn. months to finish this and !!! i so hope you guys like it 😭 thank you for beta’ing and for your patience, precious angels @missgeniality​​​​ and @jimilter​​​​, you fixed this mess and were there for me alllll this time 😭 and thank you also to @btsmosphere​​ for brainstorming with me when i found myself clueless 🤍  let me know what you all think. feedback is highly appreciated !!! <3 ⋙ uploaded to AO3, too (for those who prefer pdfs or mobile readings!)

➳ listen to the LMB playlist for the full experience 🖤 

MASTERLIST | WIPS

A sudden, bright red flashes and a loud thump of his heart sounds in his ears.

Jimin’s surroundings remind him that his favourite place in the whole wide world is the luxurious, dark grey sofa standing in his quiet office. He adores it when the sun rays shine through his large open window just enough to drench his face in the comfortable warmth. Loves to watch the snow’s soft descent in the darkest and coldest winter.

The solace and peace that come with lying on the warm upholstery fabric and thinking about his current case – or nothing at all – is an unmatched feeling sent from above. With his phone turned off, one arm draped over his eyes and the other dangling from the side of the couch, Jimin thinks there might never be a way of relaxation superior to this.

It’s what he likes to do. It’s his thing.

The club isn’t.

And he doesn’t think he’d find himself here at all if it was up to him. If Hoseok hadn’t dragged him all the way up here from the far-away office in the city, Jimin would most likely still be drowning in the work that seems to advance slowly.

He doesn’t know why he’s sitting on this very stool at this very corner of the town, letting the shrill music numb his ears and the lights blind his sight. With a small sigh, he closes the camera roll and darkens the screen, shifting his focus from the phone to his bitter whiskey. Staring at a stolen item without the chance to retrieve it won’t do much right now anyway.

Once he’s stuffed the device in his pocket, he drags his eyes back to the dance floor again, pressing his full lips together as he looks for the now-familiar face in the crowd of strangers. Despite the fact that you’re someone he’s seeing for the first time tonight, he can’t seem to get enough of the sheer confidence you emanate.

Perhaps it’s that very gaze you shoot at him whenever he looks at you, too. Perhaps it’s the gentle, almost unnoticeable smile that follows and the tongue that darts out to wet your lips. There’s something about you that’s been distracting him enough tonight to forget the entire case.

And with the mysterious glances you provide him with, he doesn’t think he has to keep pondering his options.

There aren’t that many anyway.

“Are you going to try something?” Hoseok asks, nudging his friend lightly with an elbow.

You notice very well that he doesn’t avert his focus while conversing with his handsome friend – and then again, you reckon he’s trying to make clear who his attention belongs to. Subtle boldness hidden behind a sweet yet dangerous smile – your absolute favourite.

“What makes you think I want to?” Jimin responds, cocking an eyebrow while taking another burning sip of his intoxicating liquid.

Hoseok shrugs his shoulders, heart-shaped lips forming a grin as he answers, “Just the look of absolute satisfaction from you everytime she smirks at you.”

“Hey,” Jimin retorts as he places the glass back on the counter, finally meeting his friend and colleague’s eyes, “you brought me here against my will. Might as well use the night to have some fun.”

“I’m not stopping you!” The music grows louder in volume, the annoying beat dominating rather than the voices that are singing the indecipherable lyrics, and Hoseok leans close as he yells, “In fact, I’m encouraging you! It’s exactly why we’re here after all.”

Jimin laughs and nods with a squint of his eyes, an enthusiastic smile spreading across his face before he tries to find you again. Which proves to be the easiest task of the century, and his arm nearly knocks off his drink when your idle steps distract him from every movement around him.

You’re inching closer slowly, his eyes clearly subject to your attention and your head tilted in mischief. He doesn’t know your name; doesn’t know how you feel; has never seen you before  – but from up close, you’re so undeniably pretty that he wishes he had. What higher power has hidden you from his greedy gaze until now? 

You plump onto the seat next to him, waving off the bartender with your hand before he even gets to take your order. The man in front of you watches your actions carefully, an amused twinkle shimmering in his pupils as you lean in and ask, “Is there something you wanna say to me?”

If you thought you could render him speechless with your sudden appearance or make him stumble over his own words, you were utterly wrong. Because he seems unaffected, one side of his mouth twitching upward when he starts, “Just that…”

He smacks his luscious lips, the smile so lovely that it almost makes you believe that you’re talking to a stranger who’s out for your heart.

One of his fingers point to the dance floor, and your eyes follow, blending out the music and listening to him explain, “The guy you were dancing with was trying so hard to turn you around and make you grind against him. Poor man never got his wish though.”

“That’s because I didn’t let him touch me. Greasy fingers… he’s gross. And he has a habit of…” You pause, crafting your words carefully until you nod and add, “Of being a cocky, irritating presence in every club of the town.”

He raises his eyebrows, his mouth forming an ‘o’, and you inquire, “Right? I mean, a sane man wouldn’t annoy his ladies like this, would he? You wouldn’t, right?”

The laugh he gives you, one that you join in, is coated with sugar and honey, the pure tenor so soft, but his words so contradicting, “Of course not. Respect is given. I know how to handle my women.”

“Ah. Alright, Mister Heartbreaker then–”

“Park Jimin.”

How lovely it sounds rolling off his tongue.

“Mister Heartbreaker Park Jimin. Tell me how you handle your women.”

Jimin’s sure he’s surpassed the stage of playing coy and innocent long ago, the reasons to play around words nearly vanishing as he adds bluntly, yet carefully, “I’m someone who prefers execution over explanations.”

He is only half aware that he’s stopped talking to his friend. Which is okay – Hoseok will let Jimin and you do your thing quietly, but not without a telling smirk on his face.

And Jimin’s gaze hasn’t strayed from your eyes once since you sat down to keep him company. Any other man you usually have the pleasure – or inconvenience – to meet, knows exactly where to look; one lick of the lower lip, a tilt of the head and a finger on your knees speak volumes.

But Park Jimin seems to contain his intentions inside this fascinating brain of his; almost as hard to read as you are.

“Interesting,” you say with a cocky smirk.

Your high heels clatter against the ground sharply when you stand; a sound so clear despite the incessant thrumming of the music. A gentle finger of yours comes up to remove the disturbing, blonde lock of hair out of his face, and you give him a smile before you say, “Execute then.”

Jimin’s tongue operates in a way that lets you glance into a mind far more intriguing and alluring than you’ve ever experienced before. Men could spend full nights with you and pin you under their bodies whichever way they wanted; but the attraction that his personality exudes remains unmatched.

And when you give in to his charm and find yourself behind the club, sandwiched between the wall and him, you realise just how well and elegantly his tongue truly moves. The dance he entertains you with isn’t a soft and gentle waltz, but a wild and fast tango that melts you in his touch.

As the muffled noises permeate through the heavy door next to your body, you indulge in the way his hand trails your body, unsure where to settle as he presses a knee between your thighs. Your faces hide in the darkness, only lit by the neon green exit sign above the door, and yet you see the hunger every time you part for a single moment and stare into his telling eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks breathlessly, his fingers holding your jaw in his soft grip as he searches your gaze for an answer.

You think he knows what you want – it’s always the same.

They don’t ever say no to more, and they never assume you’d walk away after exploring your skin so far. Sometimes it brings a sense of emptiness into your chest, knowing that you’re the all too ready prey that lets the predator take her home and bite.

But then again, doing this is all that you’ve ever known.

With a tempting smile and a palm ghosting over his bicep, you inch closer to his lips, letting him register the flowery scent blooming from your neck before you answer, “I want you to…”

A hand wrapping around his, you bring it to your ass, listening to him drawing a sharp breath. “...touch me here…” And then, his fingers travel to your heat through your guidance, an obvious bulge pressing against your thigh as you finish, “...and here. But not in this dusty alley and not against this cold wall.”

“Why not?” he inquires, lifting your dress before he kisses your neck softly. “A minute ago you wanted me so badly, please, Park Jimin.” 

You roll your eyes at his damned dimpled grin, tempted to remark something just as snarky before you change your decision and state, “I just thought you’d rather hear me screaming and crying at full volume for you instead of trying to stay quiet here.”

“Well, to be fair, the thought of you forcing yourself to st-”

A stray cat breaks his train of thoughts, suddenly flashing by your bodies as you both flinch at the sudden interruption. With the intoxication slightly broken, you laugh, letting go of his collar as you raise an eyebrow and say, “And that’s exactly why a bed would be a better idea.”

And who is he to deny your suggestion anyway?

No, you’re a mind-numbing existence among the boring faces of strangers; one who keeps him entertained even when Jimin tackles the long ride home. As he tries to catch every green traffic light, you’re there to laugh about his jokes and baffle him with your own wit, talking about everything that crosses your mind until he drags you into his room and silences you with his awaiting, ready-to-consume tongue.

For the life of you, you can’t tell what his bedroom looks like – his fingers and his lips exploring your body drive you insane so intensely that you can’t keep your eyes open for too long. It’s a night spent in lustful moans and sweet kisses, his body tiring yours until you grow weak and limp and your eyelids flutter shut.

With one of your legs sticking out from under the thin blanket, you let his fingers graze the expanse of your skin, humming in content until you finally fall asleep. You look like a dream on his satin sheets, your face lit by the shine of the half moon that gives you a fairy-like glow that Jimin wants to know more about.

And yet, when he wakes up in the morning, with your eyes being the first memory of the turbulent night before, he finds his mattress empty. The other side of the bed seems cold to the touch, the pillow and sheets so smooth that he wonders if he imagined you. If you were here at all.

But the obvious foreign scent that he inhales in the very next moment tells him that no part of you had been a breathtaking figment of his vivid imagination.

Your calmness and enchanting mystery don’t leave Jimin’s mind until two weekends have rolled by and ended again. It takes him one distraction too many to forget the hidden emotion in your eyes and the readiness with which you gave yourself to him.

Only to disappear the very next morning.

As Jimin stops wondering what happened that night and why you suddenly vanished into thin air, he finds himself hovering above more important things than your body. Sleeves rolled up and eyes drooping, he glances at the scattered files that contain hints, evidence and protocols of the last few weeks.

Trying to figure out what the group his case deals with might do next proves nearly impossible; even more so with each robbery they successfully get away with. Reading a pattern shouldn’t be this hard. Jimin has handled cases worse than this one; no matter whether they circled around vandalists or peculiar art thieves.

What is he not seeing?

His features remain calm, but his knuckles pale. A thumb strokes the piece of paper that has crucial information about the last theft, written black on white. Reading the lines over and over again turns out to be immensely tiring; he doesn’t think staring at them or breaking his head over the words might bring him any closer to the answer.

Right when his body begs him to carry it home, Jimin’s eyes blinking to rid themselves of sleep, the door to his office opens with a click. He doesn’t expect any company at this evening hour; he’s sure the floor is empty aside from his presence still lingering in his suffocating and dimly lit room.

“Do you like it better here than at home, Hobi?” he queries.

He lifts his gaze and runs a hand through his ash-blonde hair, the sight slightly blurry until his co-worker’s shadow takes a solid form. Hoseok flips the light switch, and Jimin protests with a grunt and a shaking head, motioning him to darken the room again – but his actions still when something else catches his attention.

With one foot on the threshold and a hand clutching a bag, serene, familiar eyes stare back at him; they don’t showcase any sign of confusion or fascination the way Jimin’s do. The mystery surrounding the not-so-stranger still glows as gloomily as the last time, and Jimin finds himself wondering if it’s the sleep deprivation that’s dipping his mind into hallucinations after all.

But then you enter the room, your shoulder lightly bumping into Hoseok’s and a laugh falling out of you at the coincidence of the situation. Your lips aren’t tinted red anymore as in the night he touched you for the first and last time; but you still look like he’s known you for longer than he actually has. Like this isn’t just the second time he’s meeting your eyes.

“You might remember her,” Hoseok says, smirking at Jimin knowingly.

The younger man catches himself fast, letting out an exhausted breath before he eyes you with something akin to boredom, nonchalance. You shift from one leg to the other, glancing to Hoseok and then back to Jimin as your tongue toys with the inside of your cheek.

“I do, yeah,” Jimin confirms, thoughts drifting back to his empty mattress. In some way, a scenario like this isn’t rare after a meaningless one night stand with a stranger that has the stare of a poisonous snake. Yet, the memory bothers him. “What brings you here, uh…”

He blinks at you, watches your lips part before he fakes a guess on your name despite being fully aware of the word he whispered dozens of times that night. A sweet melody that escapes between his lips so smoothly is hard to forget.

You nod, stepping closer and stretching out a hand for him to take. Behind you, Hoseok presses his lips into a thin line, hands on his slacks-covered-hips as he observes the awkward exchange.

You feel his stare more than you see it, well aware that Hoseok probably knows that you were once trapped under Jimin’s body, filled to the brim and a moaning mess like you’ve never been. Not before Jimin, not after Jimin.

“I’ll be joining you here. My division sent me here to help you out with the… the Swan case,” you explain, tilting your head. You’re hesitating; like uttering this sentence is burning your tongue.

Jimin knew another force would join his group all too soon – he just didn’t think it’d be you.

From what he gathered, it had to be someone he knew; perhaps that one woman who’s known worldwide for solving the case of a misunderstood art thief. Or maybe the detective he met at the last gathering of his organisation – he seemed promising and skilled enough to switch to this case.

But it’s you.

The woman who has somehow, inexplicably, been haunting him since the first time her lips touched his neck and her fingers grazed his thighs. What are the odds?

Jimin chuckles quietly, a lock of hair falling into his crescent eyes that he brushes back immediately. Then, he says, “Welcome on board, then. But next time you can come to my office in the morning, if you’d like. It’s okay to take a break and go home – both of you.”

“Says you,” you tease, a mocking lilt in your voice that sounds like the soft song of chirping birds at sunrise, “besides, I don’t sleep much anyway.”

“That I can imagine.”

Because who else would walk away at the ass crack of dawn after falling asleep late, leaving him questioning and irritated?

Jimin shakes off the incessant thoughts. Apparently, they rule over his mind with a harder force than he expected or ever wanted; but with you standing here, the scene keeps reappearing over and over again.

“Do you guys need some time alone?”

Hoseok’s voice chimes through the tension electrifying you both, bursting the bubble that had excluded him till now. You finally realise that he’s still standing there too, and so you let out a deep breath before you say, “No, no, I was going to leave anyway. I just wanted to stop by and… introduce myself again, I guess.”

“And you just happened to know that I’m still here,” Jimin voices. There’s no hostility in his sweet, small voice, but something about his words sounds sharp and intense, anyway.

“I just thought I could try,” you defend, shrugging your shoulders as you nod towards Hoseok, “and saw him leaving the building.”

The man in question mimics your movements, shoulders lifting before he waves his hands and says, “But just for the record – he’s always here. I bet he sleeps in this office sometimes.”

“I do n–” Jimin’s words die on his tongue when he decides to sigh instead, pinching the bridge of his nose with sleep fogging his brain. “Anyway. When are you starting?”

“Monday.”

Closing the files, Jimin readies himself for the drive back home, eager to end the day and to rid his thoughts of the investigation. In this state, he won’t be able to glue the pieces together anyway. Hoseok whispers something to you and you converse back, both your voices fading as the rustling of Jimin’s coat fills his ears instead.

“Then enjoy your weekend,” he eventually says, shooting an unexpected wink at you that you respond to with a raised eyebrow, “luckily we get these off at least. Can’t wait to work with you, Detective.”

Whiskey and noting down his thoughts keep Jimin’s mind on track as your face creeps its way into his brain constantly.

A weekend never felt this long, and the vacant and silent loudness in his apartment never this numbing. He doesn’t know where this excitement – or tamed rage – comes from, but the more he thinks of you, the more you distract him from the task at hand.

Working with you face to face doesn’t make things easier either. Monday passes, the week progresses and you’re blinking at the stack of papers sprawled on the table in front of you, but he finds his own focus drift every now and then, much to his chagrin.

It’s only when you slump back into a chair and tell him to read the files, that he loses himself in the riddle of the papers again. But it’s always the same; never a new clue jumping out. It’s like the answer is right in front of him and he is unable to pick it out. It tickles the back of his brain; a little as though he has all the necessary puzzle pieces, but doesn’t know how to combine them.

“It’s something obvious, right?”

You sigh when he repeats the same words for the umpteenth time tonight, throwing your head back as you respond, “I think so, yeah.”

“Then why the fuck…”

“Jimin.”

“No, no, look. Okay.” He lifts his hands in front of his body, closing his eyes as he summarises, “They always rob rich people. Like, public, known people. They’re too high class for simple robberies like banks and stuff. And they always steal jewellery, like necklaces, earrings or bracelets. Never any money or pure gold bars.”

“Yes.”

“But there must be a pattern–”

“Jimin,” you repeat, grabbing his wrist before you pull his attention from the files. He turns around slowly, exhaustion yet again written all over his countenance as he leans against the table. “Take a break.”

You place the fore and middle finger of your right hand between your eyebrows, massaging the space lightly before you let your hand fall again and say, “Do this. It’s gonna help you relax. And remove this scary frown of yours.” You laugh when he smirks, crossing your legs on the chair as you lean back. “I used to do that a lot in my old division.”

“If you’re saying that, then it must be true.” Jimin buries one hand in the pockets of his slacks, the other following your suggestion and calming his expressions. “By the way.” You look at him in question, not missing the slight judgemental tone of his voice. “Why did you never tell me you’d join us here? I’m sure you already knew the night we met in the club.”

The question catches you off guard, and your eyes stick on him for a second longer, unblinking. Then, you let out a deep breath, humming in thought before you confess, “I didn’t think you’d be part of the team here. For all I knew, you could’ve been a highschool teacher or… or, I don’t know, an architect?”

“Architect,” Jimin mocks, rolling his eyes, “not an architect.”

“Well, the point is that I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I never really considered my private life important enough for a stranger to know.”

“Hmmm.” He clicks his tongue, gathering the ball of disappointment of the last weeks between his lips before they form the words he’s been desperate to ask. “Is that why you didn’t spend that night? You wanted us to stay strangers.”

You shrug your shoulders, laughing off the awkward tension between you two as you explain, “Staying? That’s not what I do.”

“What is it that you do, then?”

“I like meeting new people,” you confess, your voice so calm that it feels like you might yawn any second now. “There are a lot of lovely men out there who have a talent of doing just what I like.” You pause for a second, your lips still parted and eyes moving to the ceiling before they find him again. “And women. Love women.”

“So,” Jimin drawls, clearing his throat, “you just go around burning yourself into all these people’s memories?”

“Why? Have I burned myself into yours?”

“I mean… It took me two weeks to remember Hoseok’s name despite seeing him every single day.” Fingers lifting from the already relaxed spot on his face, Jimin taps his shiny, black boots against the ground underneath. “What do you think?”

There’s something so undeniably attractive about his fearless openness and way of talking. Most people you meet aren’t exactly the epitome of timidness and silence either, but they often meet you with a brazenness that you can’t help but live through with a fake smile. But Jimin seems to mean each one of his words. He seems to calculate them, politely and genuinely.

You, however, are just as blatant and stupid as the people you meet. And in that sense, you don’t wait long before your rotten mouth declares, “Why do you make me wanna kiss you?”

Jimin’s eyes blow wide for a fraction of a second at your shameless approach as he realises that this is not just harmless small talk anymore. Just like the night in the loud, hot, uncomfortable club, you seem to follow ulterior motives. Your hips aren’t moving to the music anymore as they did back then, but your words and the sound of your voice lure him in anyway.

He pushes himself off the edge of the table, stepping closer, slowly, before he leans down in front of you. Hands still residing in his pockets, he stares at you for a small, fleeting moment; and then, he nudges your nose and places a finger under your chin. Lifts your head to take a better look at your seductive gaze.

You close your eyes and part your lips. Get ready for him to adhere to your wishes and give himself to you. You inhale sharply when his mouth brushes against yours, and only exhale after the lightest of pecks that he graces your lower lip with.

Pictures of both of you flash through your mind: your half naked bodies colliding, right here on his chair, you straddling him and moving gently, temptingly. In your imagination, lewd sounds of moans, gasps and kisses fill the air; and you’re ready for him. Ready for his touches.

But then, he suddenly retreats; cuts through your daydream with a knife.

“I’ll kiss you when I’m the only one you want to kiss.”

The smirk that follows shows his pride over the statement he just uttered, and your eyebrows come together in a frown as irritation fills your chest and your guts. Why does he care this much? Why is he saying what he’s saying?

To add to your demise, he lifts a hand, two fingers massaging the stressed spot on your forehead before he says, “Do this. Feels relaxing.”

And before you can blink twice, he’s turned around and shifted his focus to his beloved investigation again.

Jimin is playing a dangerous game that you’ve used to battle so many men before. One to keep them yearning and wanting, but keeping your heart and mind at bay without ever letting them too close. It’s more art than a game, really, and you thought you’d mastered it very well already – until now.

Today, you find yourself losing the tug of war for the very first time in oh so long.

It doesn’t take a genius to realise that your mind is a fascinating miracle.

The conclusions Jimin drew in the last few weeks according to the available hints come easily to you – assuming you didn’t know about any of them already. As you scan files and papers, you summarise your deductions before Jimin can fully inform you about them, and the eagerness you work with almost exceeds his own spirit to hustle from time to time.

You’re munching on tiny bites of your lunch as you compare a sheet of information with a picture of some party. These are pieces of Jimin’s self-compiled folder, but he never really paid much attention to them till now. For some reason, you seem to be fixated on them; keep telling him that there’s something about it, something’s important about these.

“We’re on lunch break,” Jimin says, letting his spoon fall into his spicy soup before he leans back, “concentrate on not feeding your nose and cheeks instead.”

Your lips move with the words you read, and when you’ve reached the end of the line, you lift your face to look at him, telling him solemnly, “Give me a second. I swear I’m close.”

“Listen, you haven’t eaten anything properly since you opened the office this morning. What about tea? Coffee? Wat–”

“Wait, Jimin,” you interrupt with an annoyed shake of your head, your forehead wrinkling and your palm holding your face.

With a sigh, he shifts his attention to his meal again, fixing his eyes on the dirty dishes in the sink as he waits for you to converse with him again. Not even Hoseok is this bad. In fact, Hoseok has said that the situation between Jimin and you reminds him a lot of busy days when the older man must come between his younger friend and his work, forcing him to eat, drink and breathe.

Jimin blinks once before he decides to stare at the photograph from afar, not as concentrated as you, but taking in the content anyway. It seems like a picture from a huge gathering, a kind of party with guests from the highest level. They’re millionaires known to the entire world, living in this very country and this very city, residing in houses bigger than Jimin or you can ever dream to live in.

Three square tables are arranged in a way that all of the guests are visible on the picture, each of them occupying one side of each table. Jimin knows that at least half of them have already been robbed, and that again, half of those are so filthy rich that they never bothered to file a serious complaint. Not because they work with the thieves, but because a tie or a hair clip they own costs more than the necklaces and bracelets that they lost.

The sole, striking connection to the criminals shows in the middle of each table, in the form of a blue swan, paper folded neatly in origami style to the majestic animal. The colour of the symbol always stays the same; and the bird remains consistent, too. Jimin knows the picture is important to figure out some sort of pattern; or at least he does now, watching you work so diligently.

And it seems like you’ve finally figured it out, because only a moment later, you break his train of thoughts and nearly yell, “Heureka!”

“What? What, what?”

Your pupils shake, your mind collecting your thoughts, and you bite your lower lip as he grows nervous and repeats, “What?”

“So,” you start, excitement clearly visible in your eyes as you half lean over the table, “this list is organised by the date of the thefts and next to said dates are the names of the, uh, victims.” Your finger wanders over each line, reading the names out loud. “So the first one was this Kim guy. Who’s sitting at the very left table, on the, let’s say, west side of it.”

Jimin nods, a hand gesture pleading for you to slow down and take a breath; you oblige immediately, inhaling through the nose before you continue, “And the second person… Lee, she’s sitting on the middle table. West side, too.”

“Okay.”

“The third name on this list is Gong. Who,” you pause, returning to the picture, pointing to a bald, middle-aged man with a crooked smile, “third table. Try to guess? Yes, the west side as well.”

Jimin thinks he’s beginning to understand, his mind slowly following your blabber as nervousness and a sense of triumph bubble in his guts. You speak on, explaining to him in double time how the fourth and fifth victims both sat at the north side, on the first and second table respectively; and when your voice grows louder, Jimin raises a finger into the air.

“So that means…” he begins, the conclusion taking a clear form in his mind, “they’re working their way through people according to this photograph. Clockwise, from left to right… so then, solving the puzzle correctly would mean…”

He taps the tip of his forefinger against the shiny material of the picture, and you nod slowly, speaking before he does, “Seong Hyunwoo. He and his family are next. And if I’m not wrong… then it should happen in exactly eight days.”

His smile drops, eyes immediately searching for yours as he blinks and questions, “How do you know?”

“According to this list and the dates, they seem to follow a pattern of exactly fifty-five days.” You shuffle the pages and gather them into one, shoulders shrugging and your tone casual, almost matter-of-factly. “Probably need that time to prepare and think about their next steps and whatever.”

“This is insane.”

“Hm?”

“The fact that I was never able to solve this,” Jimin confesses; and as soon as he utters these words, discouragement floods his insides, his body falling back against the chair as his eyes turn gloomy. He gestures toward the papers, scoffing lightly as he says, “It was right in front of my eyes and I couldn’t solve it. Basic information. Might as well get fired.”

You watch him fidget with his fingers for a second, emphatic and fond; and when he refuses to meet your stare again, you tell him, “Well, finding two separate pieces is an achievement, too. Piecing them together is harder. If you hadn’t found these things, I wouldn’t have been able to conclude what we just did. And I think you just need to… sleep more, too.”

“Yeah, but…” Jimin hesitates, lips blowing raspberries in slight frustration. He wants to be happy about what the picture and the list reveal; but he can’t help but feel defeated anyhow. “Anyone would’ve found this information. And it wasn’t too hard to figure out.”

“Hey,” you interject, pouting with playful hurt, “does that mean I’m not all that smart? Maybe you didn’t want to solve the case then…”

“No, I was just saying that…”

“Ah, cut that bullshit,” you interrupt yet again, dismissing his comment with a light wave of your hand, “you’re not a bad detective. You’re awesome, but… it’s okay to look at the bigger picture sometimes. You’ll find the details once you do.”

You flash a blinding smile at him – so bright and shiny that he loses concept of time and space for a split second before gravity pulls him back into the small break room. He’s thankful. Not only for the fact that you’ve stepped closer to victory, but for your behaviour toward his whiny, childish attitude as well.

You don’t seem to judge; seem to aim for encouragement instead.

A warm palm slides across the table, settling on your fingers slowly as he mumbles, “Thank you.”

Blood rushes into your face and heats your skin, an innocent expression spreading on your countenance as you gaze at his hand on yours.

But the awkward, silent moment passes as fast as it appeared, and you join his happiness when he laughs and declares, “This is so fucking dumb. These guys are idiots… should’ve expected that people as smart as you exist.”

“Please,” you whisper quietly, barely audible as he watches your smile widen with amusement.

A hum vibrates across his chest, and he observes your sudden timidness further before he jokes, “Who the hell still says heureka, by the way?”

“Shut up!”

Under the table, you kick his shin lightly, and he cries out in pain with a tender laugh. One you turn into a symphony by adding your own, lovely sound.

As soon as you figure out the date and location of the next robbery, informing your force busy with this case, you spend your upcoming evenings and nights observing Seong’s house.

What sounds tiring and tedious in the beginning, soon proves to be even more tiring and tedious eventually. Even if it’s part of your job, you’d rather spend your nights elsewhere. But Jimin keeps you occupied – he doesn’t only provide information you might need in the upcoming time, but keeps the mood floating, too.

Now and then, you remind yourself where you are and what you’re doing. Try not to let your mind shift too much, averting your gaze from the dimpled smile he throws you in the darkness merely lit by dull street lamps.

But despite the thrill and excitement of the situation, some moments stretch too long, and when the big, awaited night finally breaks in, you say, “Any moment now.”

In the passenger’s seat, Jimin licks his lips, squinting his eyes to shoot the mansion another look before he mumbles, “I sure hope so. Couldn’t sleep at all last night.”

On cue, you yawn into your hand, leaning back with a sigh as you blink away tears of exhaustion. You, for one, would go in and warn the married couple if you could, but according to Jimin, Seong and his family have caused him and his force trouble on more than one occasion.

Apparently, they have a reputation of the prestigious, not-so-humble pair among detectives already, hiring one group for past minor thefts while consulting another at the same time. Jimin doesn’t like repeating the story of when both detective groups chased each other the same night, enabling the real thieves to escape with ease.

To say that this was the most embarrassing day of his life must be an understatement.

“If we went in, they’d just cause unnecessary drama and wake the neighbourhood. Easy for the Swans to catch the hint and abandon their mission,” he told you, eliciting a sigh of frustration out of you until you shrugged your shoulders and kept observing.

What fatigue the profession brings…

“Tired, too?” Jimin questions as you pinch your nose, blinking to rid your eyes of sleep.

“Can’t wait for today to be over.”

“Told you we should’ve brought coffee.”

“How much coffee have you had today already?

He shrugs his shoulders, fingers brushing back the blonde, smooth hair as he remarks, “Not enough.”

If you’ve ever seen a full-blown caffeine-addict before, they’ve never compared to the amounts Jimin consumes on a daily basis. There must be coffee flowing through his veins instead of blood, you’re sure of it – how he survives a day without the tell-tale, jittery signs the bitter liquid usually causes is beyond you.

But at least he looks awake – his eyes, usually such serene and calm crescent moons, stare at the street, focused and attentive. You, on the other hand, feel your gaze drooping the more time passes.

With your head hanging low, your breathing becomes more relaxed, and before you know it, Jimin is nudging your arm, his voice stern and impatient as he says, “Hey! Can’t fall asleep now.”

“I’m sorry,” you exclaim immediately, clearing your throat as you sit up, “shit, I’m sorry, how long di–”

“Barely ten minutes. It’s fine, but focus.”

“The endless waiting just…”

“I know,” Jimin confirms. When the lights of the mansion die, he leans forward, his forehead furrowed, but his demeanour still posed despite the nervousness he must be feeling. “But patience is a virtue. And it’ll be worth it in the end.”

In the quiet moment of the night, you flinch and freeze, suppressing the whimper hiding in the back of your throat before you gulp it down. You’re not sure if he’s noticed, but he side-eyes you with what you interpret or misunderstand as a hint of confusion.

Trapping your lower lip between your teeth, you blink at the now dark house you’re guarding, telling him, “My ex boyfriend used to say the same thing.”

For a moment, the silence in the car is so deafening that you reckon he might not have understood you. Or perhaps he’s moving on, unable to respond properly and acting as though you never said what you said.

But then, you feel a hand sneak to your knee; a tender touch that robs you of your senses for a moment before you turn to look at him. He’s blinking at you, full lips parted before he asks, “Are you alright?” He waits – and when you don’t answer, fighting your clogged throat, he adds, “Bad break up?”

“It was…” you start, ready to break the truth to him, but you compose yourself and sigh, “messy from beginning to end. Like… messier than we wanted it to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

His hand rubs against your knee before his fingers travel up. The gesture is harmless and soft, but his fingertips wandering up to your arm as if to take a load of your pain build a burning trail along their way.

If you weren’t where you are, in the middle of duties that might lead to one of the biggest nights of your life, you might let the cloak of sadness wrap your heart and open up to him. Perhaps you’d even let a tear or two flow, tell him that it was neither your nor your boyfriend’s fault who isn’t part of your life anymore.

But then, something more crashing than your thoughts happens.

The police radio chimes, unpleasant noises cracking the peace of the night before Hoseok’s voice, panic-ridden and stressed, asks, “Jimin. Jimin, you guys there?”

Jimin grabs the walkie-talkie with eyes blown wide, suddenly alarmed as he answers and Hoseok explains, “Man, they’re not coming to the Seongs. Abort the mission, it’s a trap. I repeat, it’s…”

You don’t register more of his words.

Daunting ringing, shrill and mind-numbing, blends out every sound. You only faintly hear Hoseok say that the thieves knew about your set-up. That they came prepared, attacked prepared – just not the house they were supposed to.

You expected it; you didn’t think they’d be stupid enough to fall into your quiet trap so fast – but apparently, you were stupid enough to hope. Thinking of possible scenarios, your force had split into two groups, and Hoseok’s was guarding the house listed next after the Seongs.

But as it seems, the other group had been sloppy, fully expecting that you’d be the one experiencing the action first hand. And from what you’ve understood, the tires of Hoseok’s car have been punctured, and when he rushed to help the family screaming from inside the house, he’d already been too late.

“There’s almost no trace of theft,” he says, and his voice trembles, anger and frustration filling it, “if the diamond jewellery they acquired at a charity wasn’t missing… you wouldn’t notice shit.”

In your haze, you never noticed Jimin’s infinitely sunken face, staring at the radio silently. Chest deflated and leaning back, he nibbles at his lips, throwing you a cautious look before he questions, “Which direction did they flee into? Maybe we can still catch them.”

But Hoseok sighs again, smacking his lips, “Wonho and some others were close to me and chased the car when we saw it escape, but… they lost them.” A small pause, a dull thump echoing through the speaker. And then, he continues, “Can you fucking believe they were right in front of our noses and we lost them? Didn’t notice shit?”

You swallow thickly, emotions brimming your eyes; and then you lean in, clutch the steering wheel and answer, “Yeah… yeah, I can.”

“Jewellery again, you say?” Jimin questions again, chewing on the inside of his cheeks. 

“Yeah. The only hint left behind,” Hoseok confirms, falling quieter by the moment, “that and the… the blue swan.”

City lights and smiling faces that pass in a blur keep your thoughts occupied when you drive him home in silence. The tumult twirling inside you and tugging at your guts is a discomfort you maintain with unmatched strength. And even when the car engine finally dies and you hear him sigh, you think that’s it for tonight.

That you’ve kept your tears at bay successfully, shown courage and calmness.

But then, Jimin shifts, placing a hand on your shoulder as his tender voice asks, “Are you okay?”

Crestfallen and distracted, you look up at him with misty eyes. Desperation floods through the holes of your heart when you see his expression fall with yours, and as self-control starts fading, the sobs escape eventually.

Jimin doesn’t know why the failed mission affects you the way it does. As far as he’s used to his job, things can always go wrong unexpectedly – he’s neither new to this nor surprised by it, but perhaps you are. At least it’s apparent in the way your knuckles pale around the steering wheel and your body seems frozen in place.

But then, you lean forward in your seat as you bury your face in your hands, and Jimin brushes the curtain of your hair aside before he places a soothing palm underneath your shoulder blades. Your silence soon becomes a tremble, your head shaking as your muffled voice says, “We were so fucking close. So close and they knew.”

“Yeah…”

Jimin’s whisper dissipates as your sobs grow louder. He lets you dry your eyes of endless tears, his hand moving in small circles on your back as he coos whatever promises his mind can conjure. He’s upset, too – but your state draws all his attention.

And after a while that appears like an eternity, you finally slow down. Your breaths steady only slowly, your chest rising and falling heavily till you inhale a deep breath and lift your body. Your fingers brush your hair behind your ears, swollen eyes still fixated on your lap and your limbs quivering.

His hand wanders from your back to your shoulder, and he presses just once, watching you bite your lower lip nervously before you say, “This is pathetic.”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is…” You sniffle and clear your throat, your voice still shaky and tears still drying. “Have you ever seen a detective lose it like this?”

Jimin blinks at you, scanning his memories of the last years that he has been in this force; and then, he responds, “No. But I also have never met two detectives who handle, speak, react or are the same.”

You smile a little at his comforting words, moving your head to meet his reassuring eyes as one corner of his mouth twitches upward. For a moment, you don’t speak a single word; let the warmth of his touch flood you instead. The crease between your eyebrows relaxes palpably, and your heartbeat finds its regular pace again as you anticipate his next move.

What is he going to do? What is he going to say? Is there any way to mend the pain he’s so unaware of; a way to let him know silently how much the broken shards of your heart are piercing your lungs?

You don’t know whether he’s searching for an answer to your unspoken questions or merely looking at your crushed state. But you do understand his urge to make you forget for at least now; drag you back into the present to him; lift the weight on your shoulders, even if just for a moment.

“There’s no one way to deal with grief,” he then whispers, hands cradling your face and gentle thumbs wiping at your tears, “and no matter where yours comes from or how you decide to react to it, it’ll never be pathetic.”

A small pause. Three beats of your heart pass. He smiles at you again, and you feel your body float.

“You’re anything but pathetic, honestly.”

In such a dark night, Jimin’s beam shines brightly, an oasis after the world let you live dehydrated and thirsty for warmth for so long. You don’t know how much longer you’ll let yourself fall into his eyes; you know you shouldn’t, and you sure as heck know that you don’t want to.

But when you lean forward and press your lips against his, you throw caution out the window like you never have before. Somehow, Jimin seems to break your armour and shatter your walls, and his strength and stubborn way to fight through your mind leave you utterly weak.

His thumb is still grazing the apple of your cheeks when your kiss deepens. His hands still remain on you when he asks you to come inside. You hope he doesn’t notice the emptiness in your soul and in your pupils; but he’s too busy anyway.

His arms pull you into him, holding you for dear life; even when he focuses on closing the door behind you and especially when your back hits the covers of the bed that you still remember all too well.

He only lets you breathe once his lips move to the skin of your neck, tender butterfly kisses driving you insane as he pushes a knee between your clothed legs. And then, breathing heavy, his weight on yours, he says carefully, “Don’t leave again. Not tonight.”

You swallow thickly as his fingers trace your bare arms, nails leaving a pale trail in their wake as you plead, “Then give me a reason to stay… please.”

Obliging, he closes the distance between you yet again, your tongues meeting for just a moment before he moves on to your jaw and your collarbones. He litters open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips wander, and his hands tug your loose, white linen shirt down enough to expose the mounds of your tits.

Teeth nibble at your flesh and his palms bury underneath your bra, pushing it away when you wrap your legs around his hips. A singular “fuck…” rolls off his tongue at the sight of you half naked. He still remembers the feeling and image of your body from the last night you spent like this, but seeing you fully sober and clear-minded awakens a desire too profound, too intense.

But then, you whimper – and when he realises that the sound resembles your gut-wrenching cries in the car too much, the feverish kisses and possessive touches suddenly stop. As the fog of lust clears and gives way to transparent and logical thoughts, Jimin understands what path the both of you have chosen, wrongfully.

“What’s going on?” you ask him quietly, lifting your head to look at him in worry.

Maybe you’re always like this. Drowning your pain while letting strangers fuck it away momentarily; perhaps there’s melancholy swimming in your eyes all the time, because you never allow yourself to feel what your body and mind want you to feel.

Your breakdown in the car seemed genuine and rare; like you aren’t used to displaying your vulnerable side in front of someone you barely know. Pathetic, you said. A human emotion so common in this world, an ideal therapy when any other kind of remedy fails. If crying is already pathetic to you, then he isn’t going to let you hide any longer.

Because contrary to your reaction in the car, all of this stems from ingenuity and affliction. And you need to let it out.

“This won’t do,” he then says, pushing up your bra and shirt again before he lets himself fall next to you.

“But I want to–”

“Listen,” Jimin interrupts gently, pulling you into him and hugging you close despite your protests, “you can talk to me about your feelings or you can’t. But I’m not doing this with you just to suppress the pain and make it come back again later.”

Tears prick your eyes, frustration running wild inside you as you box against his chest softly and exclaim, “What’s so… what’s so fucking wrong about just letting it pass for a moment?”

“It just… hey. Hold still for a moment.” He squeezes your body once, halting your movements a second before he feels your shoulders tremble again. “It just comes back later. How did you not realise that yet?”

He feels your silent crying less than he hears it in the way his shirt becomes damp. There’s not a drop of confidence left that you usually portray; instead, Jimin feels as though he’s holding a fragile shell in his arms and keeping it from shattering.

There are so many cracks inside you. He doesn’t understand why you won’t let anyone repair them.

“You know,” he begins, burying his face in your hair. He sighs when you finally wrap your arms around his torso. “I could be anyone right now.” Staring at the shadows in the dark room, he licks his lips. “Any man in this world and you’d let me distract you.”

It stings to hear it from him.

It’s like he’s gathered all your insecurities into one sentence and summarised them for you. You want to defend yourself with a meager, stupid excuse, but then he breathes in and continues, “Which is okay, you know? If it’s your thing, it’s your thing. But ignoring your condition in the process won’t help you in the long run.”

“Yeah,” you respond through gritted teeth, your voice a little too loud and his body flinching clearly. “I know. I know, okay? I’m not stupid, Jimin, and you can’t tell me what to–”

“I am not telling you what to do. But I am telling you what I won’t do. And you won’t use me for your own purposes.”

It’s harsh. So, so blatantly direct. And god, no one has ever told you an obvious truth like this before.

You pull back and lift your head, trying to decipher his expressions in the barely lit bedroom to your best abilities. You think he’s smiling at you; somehow, he’s always smiling at you.

Slowly blinking, his fingers pull the blanket behind him over both of you, the warmth and his voice causing goosebumps on your skin as he tells you, “I won’t ever say no to you if you want me like this as long as you’re not using me. When it’s genuine and not a spur of the moment decision . But… I’d still like to be the only one you want to kiss.”

Jimin’s tenderness and reassuring beam remind you of a distant presence that floats in an unknown realm now. He, too, used to let his soft fingertips wander along your bare arms; you still remember the shapes he liked to draw on your warm flesh when he lost himself in your loving gaze.

You gulp down the heavy knot in your throat before you let out a shaky breath, and when courage lets fear and agony settle down enough, you whisper, “There was someone I used to know.”

The thinking pause that follows remains quiet. Jimin hums at your words, but doesn’t interrupt you; lets you collect your thoughts until you’re ready to speak them out loud. And when you are, you reveal, “My boyfriend… the boyfriend. We’d pretty much grown up together… and I’d been in love with him since I could think.”

A bitter taste spreads on your tongue as you reminisce about what you lost, and you grimace at it before you swallow it down and continue.

“His name was Yoongi,” the knot in your throat grows thicker and bigger, the feeling of his name almost like a forbidden spell, “he somehow found himself caught in the Swans’ web, and he… didn’t escape it. Things happened and things escalated and suddenly I couldn’t protect him anymore and I blinked just once and–”

Jimin’s hand rubs your back slowly, running up and down as if to remind you to breathe between your words. There’s strength in talking about your own suffering of this level; and he’s more proud than anything that you’re powering through your tragedy this well.

You’re not crying the way you did before. In some way, it almost feels like you’re reciting a speech that you’ve practised in your mind a hundred times before, your voice rattling down sentences numbly and automatically.

“He left. Me, his friends, his family. The world?” you speak on. Jimin hums again, nearly as if to assure you that your pain is valid. “It’s why I hate the thought of them roaming it… drinking, eating, enjoying their freedom, laughing about jokes and attending parties in expensive attire. Because they don’t deserve it with the blood on their hands.”

“They don’t,” Jimin agrees, interrupting your monologue with a nod against your scalp.

Whatever he thought your outburst merely half an hour ago might mean, it wasn’t a situation of this extent. Perhaps he thought that you have an intense sense of justice, or that the infamous group of thieves insulted you or your unit on a deep, personal level.

But this is torment he never thought he’d ever have to heal or lessen.

“And it’s why I live the way I live.” Your voice shrinks, but your eyes still hold his. You see tenderness in them. See care and affection. It’s the type that might ruin you, if you just let it. “I’m not built for love or committing to one single person, Jimin. That's why I’m not picky.”

“What if one person’s worth it all, though?”

“Jimin…” you utter slowly, smiling against his chest as you bury your face in the fabric of his shirt, “just so you know… despite anything and everything… any other man wouldn’t feel the way you feel right now.”

Your words cause a clean cut across his heart and tear it into two halves. Because whatever you say, he’s still just momentary satisfaction. You won’t give in to anything more, not now, not ever.

Jimin isn’t in love with you; he doesn’t think he’s explored your being enough to admit an emotion like this to himself already. But what he does know is that he’s falling, and that the word love, as absent as it might be at the moment, won’t stay away forever. Not with you.

And although the thought hurts every little fibre of his body, he’s not ready to let you fall just yet.

Though it proves impossible, he sometimes thinks it’d be easier if he did let you fall.

Jimin vowed to you he wouldn’t let you use him – but once you open up and break the barrier to let trust float between you, he starts making up a false sense of security in his head that you’re beginning to heal. Breaks his vow, so fragile; shocked how easily he bends to your wishes – because the vow seems like a distant memory when he touches you again.

But once your weak, confused, past-revealing moments pass, your transparent expressions return, and despite anything you feel for him, your countenance never truly reveals any of your true emotions. So Jimin reckons you know exactly what you want… or don’t want – bringing back his familiar confusion.

He can’t help but hope, though.

He tries to fill the crater in your heart, your being so hard to resist. He still doesn’t let you use him when your mind goes haywire, but you’re still like a game he’s lost whenever he begins the trail of pecks and touches on other days.

So your embraces soon turn into fervent touches. Fervent touches accompanied by moans. Moans drawn out by each other that have him still hoping and hoping and hoping.

He’s unaware that you, however, do fall.

Deep into a tumult as days go by; you want to shut off your brain and your feelings, and keep ignoring whatever Jimin awakens in you whenever you find yourself pinned underneath him. Despite your constant principles that you still hold onto, it becomes harder to escape whatever Jimin’s soul is made of.

To the point where you keep denying your heart his affection, but go back to him anyway.

When they say, temporary pleasure helps fuel your loneliness, they’re not lying. As time passes and your body becomes accustomed to Jimin’s touches, you realise that emptiness feels more prominent the deeper your mind circles around him.

His face nuzzled in your neck and an arm draped around your torso, you try to focus on anything but his warmth. It’s almost as though his limbs wrapped around you leave burns on your skin; and determined to cool your body and your nerves, you say, “There’s an annual party in the town hall this weekend. Yoongi used to tell me that the Swans attend it every year, so I thought I might tell you we could–”

Jimin’s hum against your shoulder distracts you momentarily, and you quiet down as he questions with shut eyes, “Can we talk about this later?”

“Why?”

“Don’t feel like it right now…”

He lifts his face to seek your tired gaze and deflates just a little when numb eyes stare back. Again. As always. His heartbeat stops for a miniscule moment before the flicker in your pupils drags him back to life, and with confidence lacing his fond voice, he mumbles, “Let me kiss you instead… here…”

Full lips press against your jaw, a light touch that barely counts as a kiss. “Here, too.” A trail of pecks spreads across your cheeks, and his naked body shifts on top of you again as his legs part your bare thighs. “And here…”

He still tastes like whiskey and dry fruits when his mouth meets yours in a daze, and as he climbs further on you, you feel a leaking, semi-hard length brush your pelvis teasingly. You draw a breath as much as his actions allow, and he swallows your moans when the tip of his cock prods at your slick entrance carefully.

Intimacy has become a constant between you; and you realised soon enough that he wasn’t bluffing when he told you he’d never say no to you. Even if you reject his sentiment every single time. Even if he might have become the only man you want to kiss. Even if it hurts him.

As his lips find their way back home to your neck, open-mouthed kisses toying with your senses, you sigh with desire. And when his hand squeezes your waist tightly, you gasp before you say, “What are you doing?”

You know exactly what he’s doing – and you understand that every feverish touch you shared an hour ago wasn’t enough for him. It never is. Not even for you.

And still, Jimin shakes his head against your collarbones, stating quietly, “I don’t know.” A pause settles between your words when his member slides inside your heat swiftly, and he hisses sharply before he continues, “I feel like you’ll leave if I stop kissing you… so I’m trying to…”

You let out a breathy laugh, wrapping your arms around his torso as you moan softly. He’s not moving; merely kissing your shoulder and your arm, fingers travelling up and down your sides. Arousal pools around his cock, your legs widening for him and lips parted as you tell him, “Memorising only works for so long.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll forget,” you explain, throwing your head back lightly when his hips finally fall into a familiar rhythm. You’re struggling with your words – and it’s a beautiful sight to revel in. “Everyone forgets, ‘cause I’m�� nothing special to them. Just like I’m… Jimin…”

“Yes, baby,” he mutters, his cock rubbing against your walls in slow, tender motions. Whenever he becomes this sensual with you, you know the afterglow ruins you more than any feral night ever could. “I’m right here. Say what you’re trying to say.”

It’s hard to gather thoughts on your tongue and let them out for him to hear; his motions and proximity cloud your mind too much. Your fingers embark on a journey down his body, settling on the flexing muscles of his ass as he fucks you affectionately.

“Like I’m nothing special to you,” you breathe, letting him remove your hands from his bottom to intertwine his fingers with yours. He kisses your neck again, lifts your arms above your head and pins them against the mattress. “In a month you’ll be with someone else–” You cry out for a moment when your words earn you a sharp, hard thrust. “And find pleasure elsewhere.”

“Shut up,” Jimin orders, and when your words fall silent, your mewls and sounds increase, “stop talking, please.”

And just like that, the tender late hours pass with hushed, whispered words and a credulity you haven’t given in to since love hurt you the last time. It almost feels real and true; like it’s not a lucid dream that will pass once this case is over. Once you fall back into bad, old habits of drowning yourself in oblivion that might or might not numb your pain temporarily.

When he’s spilled inside you and your sight becomes blurry, he hugs you tight to his chest, blowing against your hair until he clarifies, “It’s not true by the way, you know?” You let out a small, soft sound resembling a harmless whimper, and he adds, “You do mean something to me. You’re not someone I fuck just to throw away again.”

“What if I do?” you question, your voice barely a mumble as you move closer to his warmth. “Throw you away.”

He stills for a second. Focuses his eyes on a spot in the darkness. Swallows the distress building in his throat; and then, he admits, “I don’t know.”

“What are you going to do, Jimin?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

His teeth take his lower lip captive. Painful stings come and go in waves with you, and yet, it seems like he’s always ready to indulge in your existence. Instead of rethinking his choices and fearing the inevitable, however, he leans in and kisses your scalp once again.

And that’s all he does. No more melding of your bodies. No more naive touches and dancing of your tongues. No more words. 

Just a whiskey kiss and a night’s sleep that keeps conjuring your face in his dreams; over and over again.

“If I ever left, what would you do?”

The night air felt crisp and refreshing on your dry skin – despite the cold of October, you felt content. A little like you did when the first leaves fell when you were younger. You’d always been a sucker for rain and the pastel, beige serenity of fall.

But it was prettier with him. Even if the things coming out of his mouth were utter horseshit.

“Stop asking such deranged questions,” you told him, pushing him until his body lay half on the pavement.

Your legs were dangling off the edge, and you stared a few feet in front of you, observing the little family of ducks that swam past you in the still water of the river. You wondered what it was like – to keep swimming, to indulge in the chill of the liquid.

You wondered if they ever swam far enough to where the river met the ocean; were they ever aware of the vastness of the world? Or did they just realise when they landed there?

Sometimes, even today, you want to know if there was a vastness for you too that you hadn’t discovered yet. But with him, you didn’t care about the unveiled parts of the world as much anymore as you used to. You were okay staying just here, feet almost touching the surface of the water, watching waterlife, with him.

“No, but I’m serious,” Yoongi argued, rubbing the spot you slapped, “if I ever decided to like, do photography instead or something, what then?”

“Then I’ll go with you.”

He smiled, eyes fixated on the opposite riverbank, and his shoulders brushed yours scarcely as he said, “You really don’t need to think twice about it, huh?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Even if it kills you?”

“Yeah.” You grimaced, eyebrows furrowing before you turned to look at him. “Hey. What’s with the sudden, weird questions?”

“You called me weird.”

“Yoongi. Seriously,” you deadpanned, staring at him in warning. Not that your cute, little expression scared him – but he liked to act like it did anyway.

He was either in a good mood or feigning one to make you laugh, as he always did, because when he spoke again, he teased, “Look at you, enamoured by my whole being.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re so in love with me, but way too flustered to admi–”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, lifting a finger to his face that he attempted to bite with his tell-tale amused gummy grin. “Are you trying to reenact our confession?”

Yoongi nudged your shoulder before he wrapped a strong arm around you, almost pushing the cap off your head when his cheek touched yours. Fingers trailed to your tummy and opted for a tickle attack, his voice a little higher when he asked, “And if I am?”

“I just think you’re saying some weird stuff!”

“I just…” he began, squeezing your bicep lightly, and his breath grazed your face, warm and comforting in contrast to the freezing wind. “No.” He shifted, searching for words, and the tip of his shoes touched the water ever so slightly. “I just want to say that whatever shit might happen tomorrow or next week or whenever we decide to… take the next step...”

Yoongi paused and sighed, practising a firm grip around you as if to shield you from the evil of the universe. Then, he added, “You need to prioritise yourself.”

You stared into his face with sudden fear thronging its way to your heart. Despite the thorough knowledge you possessed about him, he was difficult to read at times, and you wondered why he wasn’t letting you break the seal that hid his thoughts just yet.

“What are you trying to say?” you inquired.

“That happiness comes in a hundred ways. The things we are doing and trying right now are dangerous and we might not be able to find a solution in the end,” he explained, but his words were still a riddle, dripping in mystery. He shrugged his shoulders, then said, “So if anything goes wrong… ever. I want you to understand your priorities, with or without me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, without y–”

“No, I’m being honest. Accept the love you get, and fight the hardships thrown at you, okay? I’d do the same for you. ”

His words blur in your mind, and when a body flinches next to you, you realise that you’re dreaming of an entirely different time – things have changed. The world has evolved – to the better or worse, you can’t say.

It doesn’t feel good at least; that’s what you can say with certainty.

But despite the faded images, you still remember the quiet and timid nod you answered with; still know that you had good reason to be suspicious about what he’d said.

Because why did he sound like he knew?

Why did it feel like he could glance into the future, and see how it was coloured for you – from the monochrome hues to the pitch black you’d walk through? And if he knew… why did he promise to you… why did he promise the things he promised?

Your eyes snap open before the memory can play out further – before he can pull you closer and place a kiss onto your lips.

You hate waking up like this.

As soon as Jimin entered the party thirty-two minutes ago, the urge to stray away from the bustling crowd and to transform himself into a silent sleeper grew. The gathering seems too loud, the alcohol too warm and the heat too unbearable.

Suffocating in his own newly tailored suit, Jimin tilts his head as his eyes scan the guests, your palm resting on his angled arm softly as you chew on the inside of your cheek. Each of you carrying a gun, you mentally repeat the plan for tonight – observe, converse, flee if need be.

The goal is to collect hints and keep every passing body in the chandelier-lit room safe and sound. Don’t act, just react. Or at least, do not act dangerously as long as you’re not forced to.

Boring conversations between him and other VIP guests pass, some recognising him from the news and older cases, and others inching closer to him to catch sight of the intimidatingly beautiful lady accompanying him.

The amount of times Jimin has pulled you away from thirsty eyes with ulterior motives is rising to a tiring number, and he’s close to sending you home due to the lack of happenings until–

“Jimin…” you whisper, fingers tugging at his blazer, but your eyes never leaving the ominous presence you have spotted.

“I know,” he responds. He gulps, slight tension carving a frown between his eyebrows. “Come on.”

As your nervous steps carry you closer to the faraway table, your eyes focus on the busy hands of the man occupying one of the seats. From the six chairs that surround the cloth-covered table, he’s the only one to keep himself company, and when your bodies move close enough, his gaze darts from his fingers across your body up to your faces.

His eyes look unfazed, bored even, and he stops his motions around the paper napkin when he realises that you approached him specifically. The blue swan, not supported by enough folds of the material, collapses onto the table as the man’s fingers intertwine. And before either Jimin nor you can greet him properly, he beats you to it, “May I be of help?”

While you both take a seat in front of him, the man’s stare seems to stay fixated on you. Jimin doesn’t quite understand what has enraptured him this much, but as an alarm rings in his mind in a high-pitched, jarring tone, his knees shift closer to you and his hand grabs yours underneath the table.

Holding back a shaky breath, your head turns to his for only a single moment – but it suffices to read the fear and discomfort written in your pupils like he’s never seen before. But then, the man opposite of you blinks and his attention shifts, cocking an eyebrow when Jimin smiles and answers cheerfully, “You might be!”

The guy nods calmly, flashing back a somewhat mischievous, somewhat clever smirk as he says, “I’m Kim Seokjin. Happy to help. Shoot.”

“I was actually conversing with someone about engagement rings,” Jimin explains, never mentioning his name; bullshitting his way through the talk on the spot, “and they pointed me to you. So I thought you might know where to get the best of the best.”

Seokjin points into your direction, almost as if you’re not there and decoration, his eyes resting on Jimin’s as he declares, “Your girl looks nervous about that.”

Jimin laughs, and the usually sickly and soft tone sounds ingenuine and turns your guts in a one eighty motion. He squeezes your hand as if to signal something, and then says, “She’s never been to a party this big. Or met people as big as you.”

“How do you know I’m big?”

“You look like it.”

Seokjin’s full lips fall for a slight moment, almost unnoticeably – because being in his position and big isn’t a compliment he cherishes, especially since his group always tries to be as subtle and smooth about every move as possible.

He has lovely eyes and a well shaped face, hair combed and parted on the side – if he wasn’t this intimidating, you might be able to admire his attractiveness on any other day.

“Ah,” he voices, catching his composure fast, “so. Engagement rings. If we’re talking one that’s fancy but not too over the top. Diamond rings, fourteen carat gold and zero point one carat diamond, about one centimetre ring band. Depends on what the lady likes, though.”

And then, Seokjin’s suddenly chuckling, and Jimin joins for a tiny moment before Seokjin teases, “One usually doesn’t talk about that stuff in front of their girl, though.”

Jimin shams embarrassment, rubbing the side of his neck with his free hand as he jokes, “Really? My bad. I’ve always been the oblivious one in this relationship. Not very experienced in love.”

If anyone’s well versed in emotions and love, it’s him. His heart doesn’t compare to the stone cold gemstone residing in your chest – it seems like Seokjin notices, too, because tight-lipped, he mutters, “Ah. Alright.”

When you realise that you’re just as present as the other two men, you decide to show Kim Seokjin that you’re not mute, and your heart thumps in your throat when you point to the dead blue swan and ask, “What’s with that?”

Seokjin acknowledges the half folded napkin for a moment, his gaze bored; as if he just noticed that the swan is there. Unbothered, he touches the creation with his fingertips, looking back at you slowly as he answers, “A hobby.”

“Really?”

“Mmmh. I make… all of them.”

Shit.

He must know. He must know that you know – all of them? What else would he be referring to if not the hints left behind after his glorious thefts?

“You do?” Jimin questions, and when you look at him, admiration and caution fluctuate in his eyes.

It’s impressive, Seokjin’s craft, even if it means gloom and excessively more work for you. Origami usually symbolises success and fortune, promises all the good things to the one folding the cranes or birds or flowers – if it wasn’t the arguably most dangerous thief in the country conversing with you right now, you might have praised his skills some more.

“People admire them, Mister Park.”

When he utters the name he’s not supposed to know, you inhale, and Jimin presses his fingers into your hand enough for you to clench your jaw, but keeps his calm stance. Seokjin leans forward; his voice is soft and soothing, but his eyes hide secrets and trouble behind their pupils. Duality unmatched.

“You can call me Jimin,” the man next to you tells him, his smile reappearing before, gathering bravery and intimidation, he adds, “off duty.”

“But you’re not off duty.”

“Well… let’s pretend that I am.”

“Why?” Seokjin wonders, and you blink at the casual tone of the conversation. All of you are acting as if you haven’t exposed your identities to each other so blatantly – this seems dangerous… menacing. “Are you trying to frighten me less by saying that?”

“Can anything intimidate you at all, Mister Kim?” Jimin inquires carefully, the slightest nervous tremble in his voice that you’re sure no one hears but you. “There’s a car outside. Why don’t you and I get there and we talk some more engagement rings?”

“I think I’ll pass,” Seokjin politely declines, but Jimin doesn’t give up just yet.

“And if I asked nicely?”

Your eyes flicker down for the smallest moment, and you see Jimin raise his gun under the table as cautiously as possible – though you’re still sure Seokjin realises his intentions.

“Hmm,” Seokjin hums, his face inching closer some more, “listen.”

He points to the corners of the enormous room with his eyes, his smile utterly sweet as he explains, “There are people standing in every corner. Busy conversing and talking about some bullshit the rich like to talk about. And those conversing with them are keeping a careful eye on me. All the time.”

Your heart drums in your ears, almost muffling all noise, and you’re sure things will escalate tonight if you whisper just one wrong word… just one wrong step. And Seokjin proves your thoughts, warning disgustingly softly, “Shoot me, and they’ll shoot you, and then your people will shoot them and my remaining ones might shoot innocent people.”

You gulp. This is insanity.

“A massacre on a Saturday night is genuinely not my favourite TV show.”

You freeze, blinking, and then ask, “Why are you here, then?”

“I’m here, because,” he motions between Jimin and you, shrugging, “I knew you would be. You’re here, because you knew I would be. So I thought we could talk.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Jimin asks, growing irritated with each passing second; you’re sure he’s muttering his words through gritted teeth.

“About… not letting your force meddle anymore. You,” Seokjin points at you, and your heart stills for a second, “you’ve lost someone before, haven’t you?” His eyes dart to Jimin, and he places his chin in his palm. “Wouldn’t wanna lose more people, I bet.”

You’re perplexed.

Unable to answer, you push yourself closer to Jimin, moving your head to look at him – and you catch him eyeing you carefully. There’s a cryptic feeling swimming in his stare, and you can’t quite interpret it; but you think it’s something akin to fear mixed with affection.

It looks like he’s trying to decipher whether you’d actually be affected if you lost him – and he’s not sure if he’s liking the answer you shoot back or not.

Because your waterline is damp, and your head spinning; you want to be alone with him, want to shield him, wrap your arms around him and tell him he needs to stay. To fucking stay, that one person in your life to not walk away.

Then again, you want him to keep himself out of this. Want to tell him to abandon this whole thing.

But you don’t.

Instead, you draw a deep breath, looking back to Seokjin and shaking your head. Jimin lets his hand sink along with his head, closing his eyes as Kim Seokjin brushes a finger against the table cloth, stands and leaves.

You feel the first wave of relief of the night when you step into Jimin’s bedroom almost an hour later. The car ride dragged endlessly as your lips stayed sealed, your body sinking in your seat while he attempted his best to keep his eyes on the road and not on you.

Even from the side of his eyes, he could see your limbs tremble in after-shock. He didn’t consider how much seeing your worst enemy might affect you, but in retrospect, he should’ve fully expected the turn of events. Whatever part of his brain reckoned that your heart has hardened enough to face your nightmares head-on, has now shut down and given way to remorse.

Because fuck, you must be hurting so much.

But he didn’t consider shooting questions at you like the nuisance of a detective that he is when you stared out of the car window, lost in thoughts. He doesn’t conjure the courage to do so when you take off your jacket and drape it over the leather chair in his dark, gloomy room.

And he doesn’t even bother you with his curiosity when your eyes droop further, exhaustion and pain clear in them. But it seems that he doesn’t have to anyway; because when the silence of the night becomes too loud, you state, “That asshole remembers Yoongi and mocked me for being alive in his stead.”

There’s a hint of hysteria lacing your voice, slight panic making your chest heave, and Jimin’s body shoots forward reflexively to calm your stressed nerves. Your insides are raging enough for you to prevent tears, your eyes glinting in want of revenge as your fingers close to fists and open again repeatedly.

“I should’ve shot him,” you voice, sitting at the edge of his familiar bed as your fingers tug at your scarf. God, it’s nearly choking you. “Who cares who sees? He’s the criminal, and I should’ve shot him–”

“Hey,” Jimin interrupts, a stray hair falling into his forehead and eye as he whispers your name tenderly, “I know what you mean, and I’m with you, but let’s tackle this with a cool head, okay? Get some rest now and…”

His voice fades into nothing and words die on his tongue. Everything he just uttered falls into oblivion and his hand slowly drops when he catches a glimpse of something he didn’t seem to notice all night.

It shimmers faintly in the light of the lamp on his bedside table when you remove your scarf for the first time today; there’s something unique and beautiful about it. Like it’s made of a dozen little diamonds; like it’s made just for you to wear it around your neck.

Who knew something as simple as this could drench you in grace, elegance and radiance? Who knew something as mundane as this could pierce his heart so profoundly?

Jimin only remembers to blink, once your voice pulls him out of his trance. Your fingers pinch his chin softly, raising his head to make your eyes meet as you cock your eyebrows in question. And when you look at him, it feels like you’re staring into the mirror. His gaze resembles your broken one – but the agony derives from entirely different reasons than yours.

“And…” he starts again.

He looks so much younger when he’s in pain. So much more innocent. And he thinks, maybe you’re right – maybe the only way to get rid of the sorrow is to drown in temporary pleasure again. Perhaps it’s why you took that path in your life at all.

“And?”

“Spend the night here,” he begs as if it’s not too late to step into a taxi and go home anyway. But the plea sets you on fire nonetheless. “With me.” He sighs, placing a hand on your cheek as he moves closer. “I want you. Here. Now,” as his lips draw closer to yours and he repeats, “with me.”

You wish you were strong enough to give in to your affliction and push him away. To grieve properly for once, cry and scream and talk it out; but it seems as though Jimin’s hold on you is stronger. And when he kisses you softly, cautiously, you think that his touch might be some sort of remedy anyway.

Your fingers wander to his hand that’s sliding your dress up your thighs slowly, and brings it to your waist. Arms wrap around his neck as you begin to shift on the soft-scented, light bedsheets, your back hitting the mattress when he kisses you with a stronger force.

“Why?” you question when he pecks the skin under your ears and opens your legs with his. “Why do you always ask me to stay?”

You know there is no right answer to it; none that you might want to hear. Or rather, one you do wish his mouth to utter, but one that scares the cold soul out of you. Falling for Jimin sounds like doom – like he’s falling into a trap that will leave him in peril and suffering.

When he doesn’t reply, focused on his actions, you open your mouth again.

“Because,” you add, biting your lip when he lifts your dress up to your waist, “I don’t know how to say no anymore.”

“Good,” he merely answers. “Me neither.”

In truth, you can’t read the thoughts in his whirring brain. The one whose energy is getting drained as though you’re a succubus luring him in and ruining him inside and out. Your presence tears at his heart and cuts it open like a newly sharpened knife, but he’d rather bleed out than find you gone and out of his reach.

Because your absence feels like an endless void; not like a torn heart, but like you���ve left his chest empty and taken the organ with you. And you keep squeezing. Keep squeezing all the time.

Your palms grab his face before he begins to venture down your torso the way he always does, and pressing against his cheeks, you say, “You don’t see the problem right? The difference between us.”

“I–”

“No,” you interject, closing the distance between his tinted lips and your parted ones, “you’re the type for sweet kisses. And…” You sigh, choosing your words carefully, fully aware how dramatic you must sound. “I like the bitter ones.”

And the force with which his mouth attacks yours again feels more fierce than ever before. And you let him. He knows about you; knows about your innermost feelings and fears and rules and worries. But he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest; or maybe he’s just trying to shut you up – like a child covering its ears from an inescapable truth.

Because you don’t even taste bitter. More like cherry – like sugar and honey. Promising, despite being death in disguise; a lethal imposter. Arsenic poison.

Something tugs at his heart hard as he attempts to figure you out more; and the more everything begins to make sense, the more he chooses silence. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Because when he backs away and takes off his clothes, you decipher a hint of pain and rejection in his eyes that startles you. Scares you.

But at the same time, he’s too affectionate and weak to not give in to you. You know, and he knows.

You always fear that you might be just another phase in his life that he might want to toy with and throw away; the way others do – but aren’t you doing the same thing? Letting him strip you bare out of selfish demands, with your hair hanging low, your lips on his as you find yourself without your clothes, your bra, your earrings. The necklace around your neck drops and the rings around your fingers scar his back.

The moment feels unreal, like a mirage, the ultimate illusion. You’re not doing this for the first time – his touch isn’t a stranger to you. But the quiet moments still let your thoughts overflow, and you overthink that he might be distracted and intently focused on you at the same time.

Like you’re knotting his thoughts and sending his mind into a frenzy; like he’s thinking about something not present in the moment, but that involves you nevertheless.

You’re not sure. You can’t put it in words anyway. Too hazy.

“I don’t believe you,” he whispers, and you don’t understand what he’s referring to.

But then he crawls south, and you whimper when his hand touches your thigh; the soft kisses up and down your legs make you wince enough for him to conclude that bitterness isn’t all you seek. Because he’s kissing you sweetly, gently – and you don’t seem to get enough of it.

He savours the moment, like he’s no rush – then freezes for a split second as his luscious lips reach your thigh, staring up at your squirming form; closed eyes. His jaw clenches in pain, and his heart lurches. If he wanted to, he could confront you right now.

But then he thinks, it’s alright to make you his just this once – or pretend that it’s him you want. Thoroughly. Entirely.

And every little moment you share with him in the next hour passes in a blur too fogged to remember. It’s like you’re basking in it just for the moment, no particular urge to commit it to memory but to feel him just now, just here instead.

When he’s elicited every possible sound out of you, whimpered and groaned and grunted and moaned over your body, filled you up to the brim, you don’t remember the time and date anymore.

Don’t know what day it is when he holds you close. Kisses you into oblivion. Strokes your face and exhausts your body – you think he whispers things you might dream of later. Not sure.

And when he’s spilled and finished, drawing another high out of you, the night has progressed, and suddenly he’s cleaning you up… and you wonder where time went. And why he looks at you the way he does. And why… he pushes you close without uttering a single word.

With your sweaty body sticking to his, you hum a familiar melody quietly. It sounds like you’re content for the very first time tonight; as if you’re not plagued by the everlasting distress that your restless movements usually indicate. Right now, you’re calm against his chest. Peaceful and breathing steadily.

Jimin tries to not showcase his own misery that begins batting his heart again once the fever of your touches cools down. But as the blanket of heaviness drags his being to hell and back, he parts his lips in an attempt to ease his mind. Stares at the dark ceiling and the unlit lamp, then to you and then back into the void.

And eventually, he expresses, “Being a detective has its good and bad sides… you know?” You open your eyes calmly, surprised by the change in his voice that suddenly sounds stern, serious. “Sometimes, when I solve a case, I feel like I’m at the top of the world and able to achieve absolutely anything I want to.”

“I know,” comes your response in a whisper.

You breathe in his scent, brush your lips against the lines of his chest, painfully clueless about how much it worsens Jimin’s heartbreak. Waves of thoughts flood his mind and his chest starts feeling weightless and crushed simultaneously. But chaos might lie ahead if he chooses to ignore and bask in your warmth further.

It doesn’t feel very warm anymore anyway.

“But then, there are days when nothing works out. Like now,” he continues as the grip around your torso loosens. Mild panic grows behind your ribs, but you try to conceal it. “We could’ve caught them that night, right? I thought it was because we were stupid and miscalculated. But we didn’t.”

The pauses between his words display his confusion and broken coherent string of thoughts. You know he started his speech unprepared and is now, troubled and baffled, searching for the right words to not fuel your pain. Or not to fuel his pain.

His heartbeat thumps against your ear unwaveringly while yours stands still. And you only avert your focus from its sound when he says, “There’s no way we did. Figured there must be something… or someone… telling them everything they need to know.”

You stay silent as if to not interrupt him, but the lack of words tumbling out of you seems to confirm his thoughts when you neither question nor answer his statement. You look at him carefully, drawing circles and ovals on his abs.

He gauges your reaction for a second longer, and when he’s met with quietude and a trembling finger against his skin, he finally concludes, “It’s you.” 

Your voice stays absent once more, and with your answers, the movements of your hands stop, too. “The necklace you were wearing tonight was one they stole a while ago. But you know that, don’t you?”

You’ve apparently grown fond of your mute side, because you continue your apparent speechlessness until his heart drops further. He wishes he wasn’t right; wants you to grow furious, tell him that he’s gone insane, that this is nonsense and that you would never do such a thing. Not you, not to him.

But…

“It’s in your nature, isn’t it? Breaking hearts. Even mine,” he says, his voice drenched in mock but shaking at the same time. “But then again, this is not about me. You never really cared about me or what I felt or what you meant to me.”

Meant.

“Such is life.”

He sighs as soon as the last word slips past his dry lips, closing his eyes to stop the spinning of the world that you have shattered into tiny, tiny splinters. He isn’t sure whether it’s the betrayal or your own fear towards the group that cracks his soul more. But whatever it is, the emotions you ignite in him don’t seem to falter – and it seems that he hates this fact the most.

Squinting his already shut eyes tighter, Jimin’s irritation reaches a peak, and when your frozen body refuses to move, he calls out your name questioningly.

And instead of pulling up your defence and fighting against the allegations, you take a deep breath. As memories of Yoongi swim to the surface of your mind, you remind yourself why falling for the enemy might break you again. Love and fondness have no place in your life, and so you ignore the affection Jimin evokes in you and numb yourself yet again.

“Do you expect me to be scared of you… Park Jimin?” you finally speak up, eliciting a scoff out of him as he removes his arm from underneath you.

The loss of touch cuts you open and shakes your guts, but you don’t falter. Not even when you bite into your lip to suppress the sob; not even when the voices in your head scream at you to fix this, to finally make one thing in your life right.

“I don’t expect anything anymore,” he admits, words fading to a hushed whisper, tiredness seeping through. “But maybe you should be.”

“Why? What are you going to do? You won’t shoot me… you’re too smart for that.”

Jimin lets out a small chuckle; it could pass as amusement if the air around you wasn’t thick and tense and suffocating. “I’m naked and unarmed right next to you,” he says, shaking his head as he clicks his tongue. “And the weapons you’re using against me right now are more lethal anyway. What’s a gun compared to them?”

In truth, he is too smart to harm you. Not because he needs you or because having you dead might affect the progress in this case profoundly. But because imagining a world and a life without you seems ridiculous. Impossible to a degree that he finds nearly laughable.

But despite the fact that you deem him too smart for his own good, he questions your courage to come to his place with a stolen jewellery adorning your neck. It’s astounding how you might not have included this bit in your calculations while working on a case that deals with theft from A to Z.

Or perhaps…

“You did this on purpose, right? Wearing that tonight.” Jimin’s eyes finally snap open again, his head moving to find your bewildered gaze.

The intimidation knocks the wind out of your lungs, and as he scans your expressions and your naked torso, you feel self-aware for the first time since the conversation started. You tug the blanket over your body further, folding your arms in front of your chest as he adds, “You gave me a hint. Why–”

“I didn’t…”

“But you did.”

It’s the only scenario that makes sense. The fright written all over your face when you talk about the group; the paralysis that befalls you as soon as you merely mention Yoongi’s name; your tears, your crumbling body and the way you seek warmth and comfort anywhere but at home.

You never disclose your private life and never invite him to your place. Something about you always seemed like you were running away from danger and freeing yourself of guilt and pain. And now he knows why.

“Jimin, I didn’t–”

“Stop,” he exhales, his heart hammering against his chest and calmness finally fading as he props his body up on his elbow and stills your words for the umpteenth time tonight. A hand harshly wraps around your face, fingers digging into your cheeks and squeezing the flesh painfully. “Why are you doing this? Why are you fucking retreating into your stupid fucking shell like this?”

Your waterline grows damper until a single tear trails down your temple and into your hair. You stare back in disbelief and pain, placing a palm over his as he crowds your space and cages you in with his other arm.

His whole being is pleading for something, begging for the end of all of this and trying to make you his without the hardships and borders separating you both.

“Please, just…” he starts and shakes his head, blinking away tears and leaning in closer. His hair tickles the skin of your face, and his pupils move from one spot to the other. “I hate this, I hate you, I– fucking hate that all of this is a lie.”

“Jimin, you can’t–”

“Can’t what? Huh? You fucking hurt me, and you know, but I…” He pauses, drawing a deep breath; considering whether he wants to say it or not… until he does. “I still want to kiss you.”

His lips brush yours softly, almost not noticeably, and his legs shift under the blanket nervously as his cheeks grow wet. He laughs through his madness, crazy for you and every piece of you that breaks him. “I should be smarter than this, right? I should just arrest you.”

You wish as much as he does that he’d stop running to you, running for you. Nothing about your relationship spells optimism, and the reality of you keeps blinking an arrow to hell. But still, he chooses to ignore it again. Kisses you again. Crashes his lips against yours aggressively as his hands entwine with yours once more.

You’re a riddle and an open book; a mirage and a painfully real existence.

And your kisses taste bitter now after all.

When bright sunlight breaks through the window the next morning, you wake up disoriented and with an ache in your head, most likely consequent to the lack of sleep last night.

As you cover your body in clothes Jimin provided you, ready to answer any question he might present, he paces across the room idly. Dark circles of exhaustion and heartache colour the skin underneath his eyes. The lazy breakfast still stands on his living room table, the cereal softening in the milk that’s growing warm and unpalatable.

None of you can eat; both of you feel sick.

“Before… before Yoongi died,” you begin; his name feels like acid on your tongue, “Seokjin forced me to reveal the name of the traitor amidst their circles. I used to tell him that I had this weird feeling of someone betraying us. And once I stopped obsessing over it, he concluded that I got to know and just wasn’t telling him.”

Jimin’s steps halt in the middle of the room, and he inches closer to your form resting at the edge of the couch. He kneels in front of you, looking at you attentively before you continue, “It’s fucking crazy how right he was. But I convinced him that I didn’t know, that there were more important things to focus on.”

You gather memories in a chronological order to prevent your thoughts from tangling up in your mind. You rub your tired eyes, then place a palm on your dry cheek, and when you look at him again, he asks, “And then?”

“Important things like theft started becoming less important when every robbery went wrong and we almost got arrested multiple times. Then,” you draw a deep breath, the image of what happened next clearly fogging your brain, “Seokjin urged me to finally say the name. Threatened me, ‘cos he was sure I knew. But Yoongi was someone he trusted, so he didn’t consider him a traitor, ever.”

You bite into your cheek the moment Jimin’s eyebrows furrow, and a hand settles on your knee as if to assure you that he’s there for you. For you. The fraud, the cheat, the danger sitting in his ultimate proximity.

“And once things escalated, Yoongi–” you can barely complete the sentence, a sob choking your words, “jumped in and admitted everything. Signed his own death sentence. And they all…” Your fingers on your thighs begin to quiver, and when the distant memory becomes sharper and more palpable, you let out a whimper.

Jimin rubs soothing patterns against your knee, his free hand brushing away your hair before the back of his digits ghost over your drenched cheek. You don’t know when your harmless speckle of emotions turns to frantic sobbing, and the only sight you decipher through your blurred vision is his lips falling into a deeper frown. 

“Hey…” he mumbles; then lifts your sunken face, but regrets it almost immediately – the red-rimmed eyes and the deep distress between your eyebrows are a sight he would erase without hesitation, if he could. “Breathe. It’s okay, yes?”

“No…” It’s really not. You wish it was. “I want to leave, I–” You hiccup, the air pressed out of your lungs. “This hurts me. I don’t want to stay with them anymore, Jimin, but…”

“It’s okay. I promise I can help you.”

“And what if you can’t? They think I owe them my life, because they were all I ever had. I don’t fucking know where my parents are, I don’t– fuck, I don’t even know if they’re alive.” It’s a cage you can’t escape – you’ve always understood, but you know that Jimin will stay adamant as well. The pensive, slow shake of his head says more than his mouth ever could. “Helping me and knowing me and being with me… it will get you killed, Jimin.”

“So what if it does?” he argues, shifting closer when your sigh exhibits every ounce of frustration you harbour. You wish you could tell him that losing another man close to your heart might break whatever remains of you. And the damage would be irreversible, the death you’d die inside everlasting. “What if I’m ready to risk all of this for you?”

“Why–”

He interrupts your question by crushing your lips with his; a frail attempt to put all his affection into the touch and to show you what he truly feels. But as soon as he starts, you push him away again, hands firmly pressing against his chest before you stand and escape his grip.

Rising to his feet, he looks into your starry, wet gaze and his feeble legs carry him merely two steps closer to you before you raise a hand and question, “Don’t you understand? How dangerous this is for you? This isn’t something you can be selfish about, Jimin…”

“Like you? Aren’t you being selfish, too?” He laughs for a moment, and the slight mock breaks your heart further. “This is ridiculous. You know I can help you. I’m a good detective and you know it. I–” Gulping, he moves another inch, stopping when you take the same step back. “You can’t tell me you don’t want my help.”

“I do,” you confess, blinking away the remaining tears as the fog in your head clears and gives way to an entirely different, desperate idea. “But I won’t risk it. I don’t care how ready you are to do so, but I won’t.”

“Please–”

“No. Fucking stop and underst–”

“Understand what?” he yells out in exasperation, and you flinch. Your hand grabs the edge of the windowsill behind you, your fingers grazing the cold metal of the gun you placed here this morning. You forgot about it.

Spleen crosses his expressions for a split second as he licks his lips. The view he presents is nearly blistering; and his voice, usually so silky and soft, grows coarse when he says, “What the fuck is there to understand?! Why are you trying to manipulate my decisions? I just… Do you know why I’m still here and running after you?”

Your chest is heaving by the time he brushes his fingers through his hair. Lost, dark eyes stare at you like he’s lost track of time and space. And when your palm wraps around the pistol grip slowly, you reckon he might not be the only one losing his mind.

Still, you want to know. Want him to keep talking.

So he does.

“Because there’s no other you in this world. I know that the earth will keep spinning, you know? And that people come and go, but if it’s someone else to stay, then I don’t want it.” His words echo in your mind like a menace, and you swallow the knot of ache in your throat when he opens his mouth to speak again. “You exist just once, and I’m in love with the full piece of you.”

With his words, Jimin stirs something in you that you’d deemed long forgotten. You didn’t know anyone could ever revive the hidden feeling again; but to you, it’s so utterly confusing and new that you shut it down and lock it in its chamber again. Maybe the lock will keep it captive better this time.

Because the truth is – no matter what you’ve come to feel towards him, you don’t know how to tackle the infamous emotion of love anymore. Jumping from one place to another – you have known nothing else, other than avoiding fondness and softness and a melting of your heart for so long. Yoongi and Jimin both couldn’t have loved you any better; but you’re not ready to commit to it just yet.

If ever.

Instead, you grip the handle of the gun tighter, watching Jimin’s eyes blowing wide when you bring the weapon to your front with a clicking noise. Both hands wrap around the metal, and you point it straight to his pained chest as he lets his arms fall.

The first human reflex to a gun is to lift your hands up; that’s what Yoongi always told you when you spiralled too much. When you got overwhelmed by weapons, danger and risks too much. But Jimin, the skilled detective every unit seems to praise day in, day out, does nothing alike. Instead, he sighs, clearly at the edge of his patience as he shifts from one leg to the other.

“You’re being absurd now,” he claims, but doesn’t move an inch. “I know you won’t.”

You know that he’s aware of the fact; and even you understand very well that there’s no scenario in this or any alternative world where you’d pull the trigger. Maybe you’ve lost the last semblance of sanity, ultimately; there’s no other reason for your actions, for your soul going awry.

Jimin knows that deep inside, your feelings rooted for him extend the phenomenon of a one night stand. It’s not a fleeting business relationship; you’re not ships in the night. But maybe it’s time to let go of the hand he tries to hold so urgently; maybe you’re too wound up and caught up in your head to make decisions for yourself that don’t end impulsively. Dangerously.

Maybe.

You have a storm to weather. And he needs to let you.

Needs to watch you step away and open wounds in his heart, the once nonchalant organ bubbling with vital desire. Your tears and sobs that never end call forth a thundercloud over your heads that lets agony and pain rain down onto your broken souls.

And when you finally whisper a, “I’m so sorry” into the quiet room and close the door behind you, Jimin collects himself enough to not run after you as he’s gotten used to. Keeps standing, lets the sunlight illuminate his face, lets his legs turn wobbly.

A small part of him keeps hoping that you might come back; but everything else inside him dies when he finally realises the absence of your voice.

The next morning, you don’t come to work.

In fact, you don’t deliver a single sign; not even a sick notice. To everyone in the office, it’s a peculiar occurrence, because you never seemed like less than a diligent detective, always motivated and eager. To Jimin, however, it’s the least of all surprises.

He doesn’t reckon he’ll ever see you again. But his office feels empty without you; as if he can hear the yawns of loneliness echoing.

His home has lost the colour you brought, even if your world was drenched in monochrome sorrow – though there was a remnant of hope in your voice. In your touch. In your whole being. Without this very voice, Jimin’s mood hits the skids.

And slowly, surely, surrender creeps closer until he realises–

No.

Thief or not, there were things between you that felt real. You weren’t a daydream – you were there, and you were you.

This isn’t something you can be selfish about.

That’s what you said to him – perhaps, however, it was you who was being selfish all along.

So when three days and eleven hours have passed, Jimin grabs his set of keys and sets the booze aside. Three days were enough to reflect on the last few weeks; the touches you shared; the insecurity in your eyes.

You were distant, not because that’s how you’ve come to know life. Not because you saw him as a one night thing – you always came back. But because in your gaze, there was always a hint of something, no matter how profusely you attempted to refuse the heart he was handing you on a silver platter. And it scared you.

The drive to your place proves endlessly unlucky; apparently, the world works against him, along with you. Red lights stop him at every intersection, suspending him helplessly. A construction site forces him to take a detour, and he spends a whopping fifteen minutes searching for a free parking spot.

He spent the last fifty-nine hours thinking and rethinking your exchange, over and over again. Words seem to come easy in his head now, and he thinks he knows what he wants to tell you after all. But then…

Exhausted, with dark circles decorating his face like cheap eyeshadow, he knocks at your heavy door, simultaneously anxious about what you might say and intrigued about what your place might look like. He remembers you mentioning your address multiple times, but you never really invited him there.

It’s prettier at yours. More trees. My neighbourhood is basically wasteland, you’d always say, shrugging his questions off.

He knew what it meant: that you weren’t ready to let anyone in just yet. That you came back to him because a little something about him lured you in, but never gave in enough to let him in, too.

Any confession or inquiry he had prepared seems to disintegrate like cotton candy on his tongue when the door opens.

His breath hitches and his heart jumps, hands clutching the frame of your entrance until his knuckles pale. A sea of jumbled thoughts keep washing in, and he’s not sure whether he wants to pamper you or yell at you.

Your hair is dishevelled, the eye contact tired but filled with pain. You stare at his feet before your pupils flicker up to his, and for a moment you look guilty. As if you’ve done something that might hurt him again.

“Just give me two minutes to ta–”

Jimin’s words die on his tongue when a stranger shows up behind you – your helpless gaze, pained and confused, seems to make sense now. But when Jimin looks at you again, your initial uncertainty morphs into fear that he can’t quite decipher. And when you speak, he understands why.

“You should go,” you nearly whisper, carrying a warning in your tone, like you’re quoting your thoughts from a few days ago. “You really should.”

What’s with you and the constant pain you carry? You might be hellbent on keeping him from the danger you bring – but why is the sting still so seething, so prominent? Why does looking at this guy, whom Jimin has never seen, never connected a memory to, tear at his heart like that?

The man rips the door open some more, fully clothed and frustrated as he observes the tension between you two, and asks, “Am I a joke to you?”

His voice is venomous, annoyed. Sounds like he was clearly expecting more of you, and you didn’t give him what he craved. Or perhaps you did, and the aftermath was something he didn’t anticipate.

Either way, his tone is agitating – and Jimin doesn’t want to hear him talk you down like that.

So he relaxes the crease between his eyebrows, counts to three internally, takes a deep breath. Gathers his irritation in his eyes, his gaze lethal and hooded; and then, he tilts his head and tells the man, “Leave.”

You release your jaw as quickly as you clench it, considering to build a barrier between the men before you change your mind. Because you don’t really want to defend the intruder standing next to you – you met him barely two hours ago, still smelling like the intoxicated air of the shabby bar.

So you keep yourself together, not feigning any anger towards Jimin – because despite the fear and unease, your heart feels soothed at the sight of him. And as you shift your weight to your other leg, gulping thickly, you turn to the guy next to you – Taesoo, was it? – to open your mouth.

His hand rests on his jangling belt, the button of his jeans undone, and before you can speak, he beats you to it, “It’d be nice if you told him something. I was here first anyway, and after the things that happ—”

“Leave,” you echo Jimin’s words, quietly but firmly.

He raises a corner of his lips in mock, shaking his head before he disappears into your room. For a moment, Jimin and you participate in a stare-off; then you avert your eyes again, brushing back your hair with a sigh.

When Taesoo emerges at your side again, pushing past you harshly, you groan, listening to him state, “You seemed like a crazy bitch all evening anyway.” You reckon he refers to your hazy, distracted state, more focused on your drinks than his touch. He nods towards Jimin, shooting one last, “Have fun with her,” before he departs.

Jimin’s jaw clenches visibly at the sound of the insult thrown at you, but his mind soon shifts elsewhere when you step onto the threshold slowly. You look tired, craving a good night’s sleep, dark circles under your eyes indicating that you’ve been awake for way too long.

But the steadiness in your voice surprises him, your arms folded as you ask him with raised eyebrows, “Why are you here?”

For such a smart, observing person, you seemingly still haven’t decoded the entirety of his feelings. He knows that somewhere inside, you sense why he drove all the way to your place, and that you understand why he’s here, waiting for something, trying to utter a little confession or two.

You either want to pull the answer out of him, or you’re still ignorant to how he looks at you.

“I miss you,” he admits, keeping his admissions present tense, fully intending on letting you know once and for all.

This game has been going on for too long. You need to stop making him chase you, need to stop acting like the mouse in this cartoon-come-to-life.

You slowly retract your steps, shaking your head in exhaustion, but he takes the same step forward, continuing, “There are a couple things I need to tell you.”

“Just,” you start, rubbing your temple, “let it be.”

“Let be what? There’s nothing here to start with.” He inches closer, his body almost touching yours, and a hot breath grazes your face as he admits, “I’m trying to make it something.”

“Don’t.”

You try to walk away, settling your hand on the door and ready to push it close again before he grabs your wrist mid-action. He invites himself in, careless about his surroundings as he calls your name.

Breathless, you watch the scene unfold in a matter of seconds: you feel his body close in, his harsh touch harden, the click of the door sounding, and suddenly… you’re trapped between him and the wall, arms pinned next to your head and his lips on yours.

Your eyes widen before they fall shut gradually. The sweetness of his tongue merges with the bitterness of yours instantly, and you let the feeling consume you; let his movements turn your body to mush.

For those fleeting seconds, the Swans don’t exist. The man who left your home a minute ago doesn’t exist. The hurdles and wall between Jimin and you, the crack between your lives – non-existent. You’re thrown back into memories of him, fond and hot, still burning before gravity pulls you back to your feet again.

With his grip around your wrists weakened, you free yourself and push him back, and he tumbles before he moves closer again. Slower this time, intimidated by your tears… frustrated, perhaps. 

Your hollow eyes must be a hoax – because behind them, he sees a downward spiral, and he shakes his head in sorrow, lifting a hand. He places his palm on your damp cheek, pressing further when you don’t resist him this time but whisper, “Jimin…”

“No,” he interrupts, eyebrows furrowed as he catches your tears, “I know it sucks to lose someone like this. I know death can happen whenever and that it hurts and sucks the soul out of you. But… you can’t change what happened.”

Your lower lip and chin are quivering, your eyes red; he wonders how often you looked just like that the last few days. He wonders how many of those times he could’ve made and kissed you better.

“Fuck, this is such a cliché statement,” he adds, sniffling, mentally gripping his fractured heart to keep it from splintering more, “but it’s true, okay? And—and it’s also true that I’m here. Alive, with you, and so, so in love with you.”

He pauses. Watches the emotions swimming in your eyes, a sliver of hope and fondness and devotion glimmer. 

And then, he tells you, “I know you feel the same. I just know it, and you can’t tell me otherwise, okay? I’ll take care of you… I know how to, so – please don’t push me away anymore.”

The sounds of your tears ebb down slightly, and you look at him with dozens of answers in your gaze to the one question he asked. When he repeats a hushed, “Okay?” you swallow another thick knot, fooling yourself once more as you whisper, “Stop…”

“Do you really want that? Do you mean that?”

His forehead touches yours with an intense fire burning between you, and you question for a moment whether you’d ever be able to put it out. There’s no power in this world strong enough to fight against it properly.

So you dissolve the web of lies for the first time in months, opting for the one and only truth you feared for so long as you shake your head and answer, “No.”

And as an answer, he merely sighs.

The type of sighs that convey more than a verbal response ever could. Longing, yearning, quiet affection hidden in one single exhale.

His lips and body crash against yours, and your back hits the wall with full force, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He traps you with his hands pressed against the wall, tilting his head to taste you just a little more.

Despite his impatience, his mouth works slow, and his tongue dances with yours tenderly, memorising your movements. You let your hand wander to his blonde hair, dishevelling it with a slight whimper. A shiver courses through your body, goosebumps arising all over your skin – you can’t count how often you two have done this, but it has never felt the way it does now.

Like you’re ending some kind of chase. Like you’re solving riddles you didn't know about.

Jimin's lips break the kiss when his lungs start to burn, and you take a deep, needed breath as he moves his attention to your cheek, your jaw, down to your shoulders. You lift your head to grant him access and he grabs a patch of your hair before he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Shit…” is all you manage to murmur as he holds you close, and you’re certain that he knows your knees might buckle if he didn’t.

Because your limbs are putty, weak under his touch, your mind concentrating on your surroundings as he nibbles, licks and bruises your skin.

You once heard that sex and desire puts those filled with lust through a temporary yet full shutdown of their short-term memory, and with Jimin’s body against yours, you don’t question the theory anymore. Because you barely remember the time and date; you wouldn’t know where you’re standing if the wall didn’t press against your spine.

“Still want me to stop?” Jimin asks when he emerges, brushing back your hair before he plants a peck on your nose. Then your forehead. Your temple.

Sweet, soft, lost.

His eyes crave you so clearly, but his hands touch you carefully, gauging your reaction. You shake your head, placing your palms over his rapid heartbeat as you breathe, “No.”

“Okay,” he whispers, letting his fingers slide to your hips, “okay.”

And then, his mouth is kissing down your body, slowly and cautiously, his eyes not leaving your face until your eyelids flutter shut. His hands raise the fabric of your shirt, baring your stomach and part of your breasts. His tongue leaves a flaming trail along your tummy, delicate bites teasing your sides occasionally.

His digits creep closer to your pooling heat, not as fast as you’d like him to – but when he finally presses a finger against the damp cloth of your panties, you moan out his name. Gulping, he shakes his head, biting his lip before he tells you from below, “I missed this.”

Jimin knows his obsession with you has become ridiculous. He shouldn’t have thought about you this much after being apart from you for just a few days. But you’re the mystery clouding his mind in every waking second – you’re like a case he hasn’t cracked yet. And for the first time, he doesn’t feel the desire to anyway.

This time, he won’t look for hints and clues to decipher your thoughts, but let you deliver them to him yourself. At your own pace. As long as you feel the same.

He brings his lips to your thighs, fingers tugging at your panties without ever ripping them off. You brush the hair strands off his face, eager to watch him become as delirious and hazy as you are – if he isn’t already. There’s a beginning fog in his pupils, whispering something that you understand right away.

The way he teases you throws you in a frenzy for sure, a soft, single touch that makes your guts turn and your thoughts dissolve. 

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, and your eyes shoot open, your gaze begging with your words.

Weak and enchanted, he obliges, continuing to lick and tease his way up until his tongue brushes the wet patch of your panties. Arousal seeps through and colours the fabric darker, despite the lack of direct touch, and he pushes a finger against the clothed entrance of your cunt. His mouth attaches to the dampness, searching for your clit until he hears you whimper and plead.

“Use your words,” Jimin says, circling his finger over your panties, “can’t hear you.”

“Take it off…”

“Take it off?” he repeats, fingertips wandering to the hem of your panties and tugging again – enough to drive you insane, but not enough to rid you of your clothing. “That’s what you want?”

“Don’t… don’t ask stupid questions,” you tell him, staring down at him, coloured lips parted and dry.

Jimin laughs for a tiny, barely-there moment; and you nearly miss the sound, because in the next moment, he’s gratifying your request eagerly. He pushes your ruined panties over your ass and down your trembling legs; watches the shiver of your body.

And as his thoughts stir and begin to run wild again, remembering the last days and your last conversation, he waves them off by dipping in right away – your touches are precious, and his mind is collapsing. But while he acts immediately, he takes his time during the actual ministrations, placing a hand on your pelvis to keep you in place before his tongue begins its eager work on your pussy.

You shiver when his lips touch your cunt, spreading your legs further, and tell him, “This feels… so–”

“I know. I know, sweetheart.”

You shake your head involuntarily when he utters the new pet name, not ready to fall for him deeper, but not strong enough to push him away either. It’s so hard to think at all… his tongue lapping up your juices, his palm holding your thigh, placing your leg on his shoulder… strands of hair tickling your skin – the world is an endless, dark chasm and it’s swallowing you whole.

Electricity and sparks only flicker in your vision when he licks you through the built-up of your high and watches you come undone with his name on your tongue. You whisper it and then yell it, entirely enrapturing him with your movements and sounds until his head is positively spinning.

His cheeks flushed red, he emerges slowly, crawling up your body to wrap an arm around your waist. But you’re way ahead, pushing his body backwards, lips finding his again as you make out on your way to your bedroom.

You barely remember how you got there, but when you push him onto your mattress hard, observing the change in his dangerous eyes, nothing else matters anyway. Albeit shaking and heavy breathing, you put all your energy into the act, throwing him onto his back as two pairs of hands start to undress him hastily.

The familiar sight of his bare body hits you like a truck, flooding yearning through you as you straddle him before he gets the chance to react.

“What are you…” he begins, but you lean in, your hair a curtain draped to the left side, and meet his lips for a brief moment.

He throws his head back, moaning quietly when you journey down his body, lips kissing every patch of skin until they touch the erect length resting against his stomach.

Leaking and aching, his cock screams for attention, and you grant his body all your focus and affection as you lean in and let your tongue run a stripe along his shaft. He doesn’t question anymore what you might be doing; instead, he groans, thick lips opening just a fraction.

“Good?” you ask as your fingers sneak around his dick, teasing, amazed by the rockhard stiffness hiding underneath the warm skin.

He opens his eyes for a split second to glance down at your naked form, barely believing that you were standing on the other side of the door, tired and insecure just minutes ago. Your naked body doesn’t just lure him in out of pure, unbridled desire, but whispers quiet, longing promises to him, too.

Like, that you want him… that you genuinely want him. That you’re doing this, letting him do this, because you missed his touches as much as he missed your gazes. Or at least that’s what he interprets.

You lick along his length once more before you angle his cock and wrap your lips around it. Your head bobs up and down slowly at first, the vibrations of your hums sending a current through his sweating body; your tits hang between his legs and your ass in the air. It’s so surreal, so heavenly that he whispers, “I’m gonna lose my mind…”

Pride floods through your guts, temporary bliss so incomparable to the pain the world inflicted on you in the previous days. You let yourself lose with him as your tongue works its way along his shaft, devouring his moans, producing extra saliva to drench his cock.

You only stop when his cock hardens impossibly, his breaths stuttering – you want him inside; want him to spill inside. So you crawl up with your nails racking his smooth skin, hands sliding along his torso, brushing the tattoo beneath his chest and his bicep that you’ve grown to love; memorised.

Straddling him with parted lips, you look down at his surreal form, your breathing erratic and eyes unfocusing as you say, “You’re pretty… so pretty.”

And perhaps your words would’ve affected him enough to let his thoughts clear if you weren’t grabbing his drenched cock again, bringing it dangerously close to where your cunt pulsates for him. Because as soon as he understands the situation, he shakes his head, stopping your attempt to ride him deliriously as he grapples your sides and flips you over in an instant.

Your back hits the mattress surprisingly, and you gasp, trapped between the bed and him; your legs still spread, but your toes curling in. Hissing and confused, you immediately, reflexively, apologise as though you’re used to making mistakes, “I’m sorry.” You wait, watching him prop up his naked body on his elbows. “What happened?”

Jimin gulps, his gaze soft but melancholic, hints of pain scattered across his dark pupils as he admits, “I can’t do it like this.”

“What?”

“You… you fucked that guy.”

“I–”

There’s no wish more profound than to fuck the thoughts of this man out of you. To make love to you through the night, reach your deepest parts, intensely enough until you can’t remember a single name but Jimin’s. But at the same time, your lifestyle has never been his – and he remembers.

So whatever desire floats inside him, he needs to fight through the haziness and be responsible. If you fucked another guy before him, he doesn’t want to be your sloppy seconds.

But when you speak again, you surprise him and, as it seems, even yourself. “I didn’t.” You place your warm palms on his soft back, pushing him closer barely noticeably. “He and I didn’t.”

Despite the questions in his shaking eyes, Jimin remains calm and collected, his lips inching closer to yours until you can feel the hot comfort of his breath grazing your face. The touch of his fingertips on your jaw, his chest against yours, arms wrapped around your shoulders set all of your nerves and veins alight.

Blood isn’t helping your heart pump anymore the way his touch does. If he chose to stay just like that, the entire night and day, you think you’d be okay with it, too.

“Why not?” he asks when he speaks again, caramel dripping from his tongue, sweet but charred, infatuated but scared.

“I…” you begin, momentarily distracted by the hard length rubbing against your clit. You moan and writhe, and he holds your face firmly, looking at you as you confess, “I kept seeing you instead.”

“Really?”

Pillowy lips kiss the expanse of your neck and settle on the crook of it, his hips moving to align his cock with your entrance without ever sliding in. It’s doesn’t resemble his usual teasing and cockiness when he drives you crazy, tortures you with touches without ever advancing. Waiting for you to beg and move, waiting for you to tell him how badly you want him.

No, this time, it’s something else – a feeling you can’t quite name. Care and fear and anger collecting in his crude and lewd motions. A nonverbal, silent plea for you to utter something, for you to seek his lips, to tell him you don’t want anything else.

Perhaps that’s the problem. Jimin has always wanted you for himself. The only one you want to kiss, the only one to haunt your dreams. Maybe he’s greedy or maybe he’s fallen too deep into all of this utter shit; but he’s always lived differently. A heart that contains love and demands love back.

Not used to the vast darkness filling the volume of your own.

But some things not even you’ll be able to deny.

“Really…” you mutter, your eyes falling close.

His nose nudges against yours; everything is a slow process, but you melt and dissolve and fall ultimately when he whispers, “Do you have any idea how much I missed you?”

“Jimin…”

“I know you like burning yourself into people’s memories,” his tip pushes into your soaked pussy, one arm letting go of your shoulder to press your thigh into the mattress, “you like them to remember you, and you like to forget them,” you whine and moan, moving your hips, begging for more, “but goddamn, putting me on your list? That was cruel.”

The coherency in his words is astounding; you don’t think you could utter more words than necessary, even if you tried. The level of hurt passing through Jimin must be profound enough for him to drown in his thoughts, even now.

“I– I didn’t,” you manage, desperate and shivering, losing every ounce of sanity.

“What is it then… that you did, huh?”

A single tear escapes the corner of your eye, and he wipes it away immediately, caging you in further as you hold onto him for dear life. The room turns a few shades darker with his dim stare, cold, but you moan and cry out when he pushes in some more.

You throw your head back, registering the touch of his fingers along your sides as you hear him ask, “Why did you hurt me again?”

You’re not sure what answer he wants. You don’t even think he realises you can’t answer at all, too focused on the way he sheathes himself inside you, piercing through you slowly, deeply.

But he doesn’t seem to expect a response either; because adjusting, shifting, balls deep inside you, he groans, “No more, okay?”

He knows you can’t give him promises that defy the life you lead. You think he understands as well as you that the future is uncertain, that none of you know what it entails. But there’s something inside you that wants to soothe both your aches, so you mumble timidly, “Okay…”

If it was up to you, you wouldn’t lay a finger on his heart anymore. But your days and your occupation, lacking moral and respect, are unpredictable. For now, however, it seems to do.

Because Jimin’s eyes close, his grunts deeper now, the grip around you tight and protective and his cock building a steady rhythm. He’s slower and softer than usual; tonight, he takes his time, focuses on your expressions and sounds.

The little droplets of sweat on your forehead. The sharpness of your nails digging into his flesh and alternating with soothing rubs. Your eyes involuntarily squinting when his damp hair strands touch your eyelids. And the sound of his name from your lips… your pleas, your moans, your breaths.

“You’re the prettiest like that,” he tells you, kissing your earlobe, “free of thoughts and worries… could look at you all day.”

The way he always looked at you during lunch breaks, lazy evenings after work or when it was your turn to lead a meeting in the office.

A series of mumbled words escape your mouth in a hurry, overwhelmed by the varying pace of his hips; once he hammers into you deep and then he pulls back and pushes in carefully. Perhaps he’s letting your bodies lead the way; because even he seems beyond the point of true consciousness. A little lost, a little dizzy.

“Don’t want you to stop,” you tell him amidst the fever dream you breathe through, and he lifts his chest from yours just enough to look at you properly.

Your bodies, hot and sweaty, quiver from the lack of contact, the temperature of the room colliding with the warmth between you as he promises, “Don’t worry.”

It’s a short, silent and tender affair, the collision of your bodies and souls. It feels like mere seconds pass when he’s wrapped his lips around your nipples; then released them; then kissed the underside of your tits, penetrating your walls and every inch of your sensitive spots.

You barely notice that his hips and legs are already stuttering, his mouth whispering sweet nothings, and you rush to bring your fingers to your clit, only for him to push your hands away and do it for you.

“Fuck,” he curses, losing his mind when your shouts grow louder. “Fuck, wanna hear this all day, you know?”

“I know,” you cry out, throwing your head to the side, and he suckles at the flesh of your soft neck.

Your legs become restless as he rubs the bundle of nerves, incessantly pounding into you, and the combined penetration brings you to the brink of insanity.

In the years you’ve allowed your broken self to cope with sex, there must have been longer sessions. Harder or faster, memorable or seething hot. Tonight, with Jimin, might not be the experience of a lifetime, and you probably won’t remember every ardent touch or impatient stare he grants you with.

But for the first time, you feel something that’s unfiltered. Not fleeting or meaningless or another get-together you’ll store with every other get-together in the past. This is real; it feels real. Perhaps not like a fairytale, but at least like its own novel.

Jimin’s stamina and endurance come to an end when you whisper his name one more time; tell him sweetly, hushed, “Want just you… please.”

He doesn’t know what your words strike in him, but it’s enough for him to let go ultimately. A groan emerges from the depths of his chest, his body collapsing on yours again, barely floating to not suffocate you beneath him. He takes a deep breath, trembling, and says, “I swear I really am… in love with you.”

You believe him. With all the emotions swimming in his eyes, evident in his touches, how could you not? With the way the world changes, how could you not reciprocate it?

And you want to tell him – but before you can, he’s letting more admissions fall, spilling inside you with a sound so intriguing that it renders you speechless. His face falls against your chest, his ear listening to your rapid heartbeat as stars explode in your vision just as much as in his; your moans broken and your body floating.

It all ends as soon as it begins.

Your naked, vulnerable bodies fall into your bed in unison, his embrace carrying you with him, both your essences spilling out of you as you catch your breaths.

“I can run a shower,” he says, a hand rubbing his face in exhaustion while the other grabs tissues from the nightstand and begins to clean you up slowly.

When he’s done, he sits up, opting to stand, but you grab his bicep and pull him back, shaking your head with big eyes staring up at him. He thinks he could die in those eyes – no dreamy sigh in this world showcases the feelings his heart carries for you.

Blinking, exhaling, you say, “Not yet.”

Obliging with a nod and affection in his gaze, Jimin fishes the discarded underwear from the floor, half hanging off the bed, and hands you yours while pulling up his own. It’s strange, the feeling of clothing against your battered sex.

But his arms caging you into a hug, impatient and urgent, make up for the discomfort immediately.

For a few minutes, you listen to the silence of the room. A few cars drive past the complex you live in, the traffic unusually busy for the isolated corner you chose as your city residence. It’s different here; quiet but still louder than what you’re used to. If you were surrounded by the silence you usually hear, you might react with more fret and panic.

“You’re still unsure,” Jimin whispers, breaking you out of your trance, “about us.”

It’s surprising. The way he continues the conversation from before like nothing happened in between. But you understand his thoughts. You know what must be plaguing him, or how painful the uncertainty of a future with you must be.

After all, confessing love, affection and otherworldly emotions doesn’t guarantee anything, right?

“Not about what I feel for you,” you admit, mumbling against his chest, “but I’m scared.”

“It’s Seokjin you’re worried about, right?” he asks, shifting closer, noticing the way you flinch at the mention of the ominous name. “We’ll end this thing soon.”

“He’s just… dangerous. He’s not just a thief, Jimin–”

“I know,” he interrupts, tangling your legs with his. It’s like he’s trying to creep closer, trying to meld your bodies with not an inch between you left. “But we were close before, so if…”

You hiss when he presses too hard, his skin rubbing against yours, and you emerge from his chest to say, “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.”

It’s the first time you refuse to address your fears. But despite your wish to steer clear from this conversation, it seems that the world still hears your worries and troubles.

The comfort of his arms, wrapped around your torso and your sorrow, doesn’t last long; just like joy doesn’t last long on any other day.

Because in an instant, you hear the smashing of your door, like someone’s broken in with an axe and demolished your entire entrance. From your bed in your room, you can’t decode what the thunderous noise is, flinching hard, reflexively pushing yourself into Jimin’s arms.

There are no voices yet, just a panting from afar, and you sit up with the blanket covering your torso, eyes darting through the room to find a weapon. You think Jimin dropped his gun in the living room when he entered; you think your own are hidden in the closet, too far for you to fetch.

And right when you remember the pistol buried underneath your things in the second drawer, your arm shooting towards it once your brain clears, your bedroom door opens with a mind-numbing thump.

“What the fuck,” you hear Jimin murmur next to you, and in your fear, you just realise now that he has risen to his feet, scouring your empty bed for a weapon in nothing but his underwear. Defenceless. “Get out.”

He says it to you, but you’re frozen in place, watching a face walk closer to you that you’ve never seen before. It happens in slow-motion, like time is standing still.

In those moments, you realise a few things.

First, the second man, right behind the first, is one of the thieves living in your mansion, a trusted accomplice of Seokjin, probably here by his command, too. He looks unamused; like he just wants out, not eager to fight.

Second, they’re carrying weapons like knives and guns, clearly in a better position than you, their eyebrows furrowed in anger that you might not be able to win against.

And third, they’re looking at Jimin.

Without a glance to you, the familiar face throws clothes at you that you didn’t see him holding before, covering your face as panic spreads in your chest. You lift the shirt off your head, instantly yelling, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Leave, just–”

Jimin’s voice is muffled and scared, his fists ready to defend himself. But when the first hit lands, he stumbles back onto the bed, finding it difficult to keep his posture when the enemy is attacking with the grip of his gun.

You don’t listen to his pleas right away, letting out a siren scream before you curse, “You fucking bastards, you can’t–”

“Get dressed. Get in the car. No aggression, okay?” the stranger tells you, pointing to the clothes before he adds, “He’ll be fine if you stay calm.”

All those threats. The constant rivalry and wrongful doings. They’re sickening and insane – but somehow, they’re the only madness that still keeps the man you’ve fallen for safe.

“Lower the gun, please,” you say as firmly as you can, but you can hardly help the shake in your voice, the breaking of your words.

You grab the shirt and drape it over your body with quivering fingers, never leaving Jimin out of sight. He’s looking into the intruders’ eyes, still unarmed, relying on his fists once again to face the blade and the bullets.

“I’m done,” you add, still deflating at the sight of them not listening to you. Because their arms are still raised. Still pointing at him.

Jimin throws you a single look, slowly.

He doesn’t utter a word.

Then, he nods so slightly that you almost miss it – and right when you button your jeans, he gulps.

“No, don’t–” 

You exclaim it into the room involuntarily, automatically falling forwards, your palms catching yourself on the bed before Jimin is going in with another reckless punch. You’re not sure if it’s an attempt to actually defend himself or to give you time, but you can barely react with the tears blurring your vision.

As if a voice whispered something to you, you pull yourself up, your breathing erratic and uneven as you walk backwards to the door. You’re not silent enough to escape without notice, but you try; you try. For him at least. 

But with the door shut and in the time it gets to press down the handle, open it and run out of the room, your hair is caught in the firm grip of the familiar man, twirling you enough that you see the horror in front of you unfold.

You think the man holding you urges the stranger to finally finish the job, shakes his head, impatient and annoyed. But his hisses don’t stop his colleague.

A hook to the chin of the man you kissed a few minutes ago. A knife cutting through the back of his hand that tries to defy it. The grip of a gun smacking against a temple, letting his body fall onto the mattress and limp against the pillow.

The last thing Jimin hears are your screams, shrill and crying, his name floating somewhere in between before the world falls dark.

When Jimin opens his eyes again, the world is dark and dull.

His body is stiff and heavy when he opts to sit, and he wonders if he was tied to the bed, unable to move his limbs and head. But once he lifts his face, he realises that it isn’t his torso or his legs that are shackled to place – it’s his mind, forbidding further movement.

Because the pain shoots into his head like an arrow, sharp and stinging, the headache so shattering that he falls back into the pillow again. The spot near his face is sticky and smells disgusting. He doesn’t dare to open his eyes and examine the source.

Instead, his hand taps in the dark, searching the bedside table blindly until he touches the box of tissues and pulls out two or three. He rolls the napkins to a ball, pressing against the wound with a sharp hiss until his head stops spinning. 

For a second, there’s a beep in his ears, but his first instinct of making sure he’s not too badly injured tells him that his hearing isn’t impaired. He still hears the cars outside, and still makes out the chirping crickets through the open window.

Gradually and slowly, he opens his eyes. The sight begins blurry, but clears slowly. So his vision is somewhat stable, too. But with the hit he suffered, enough to knock him unconscious, it must still be bad. Because god, it hurts. A concussion for sure.

The tissues turn as sticky as the pillow, so there must be dry blood. And he feels dizzy. But just like the pain, time won’t stop, and if he lets more of it pass, more things could happen that he's tried to avoid for months. If they haven’t happened already.

He sits up once and for all with an agonising groan, not daring to shake his head before he gets to his wobbly legs. He sways, flashbacks to older cases emerging when he suffered worse, and walks over to the standing mirror near the window.

An inspection tells him that there’s no fluid or blood spilling from his nose or ears, but his damp, dirty hair coloured red is still telling enough. He wishes he could call help, get himself checked in an emergency room, diagnosis and treatment and all. But until then, too many things can happen; and the silence of your room and your absence don’t allow him selfishness, not right now.

The scream he heard before he passed out still echoes in his mind loud and clear, fuelling the headache. Where did they take you? What happened after he closed his eyes?

If he made protecting you his biggest goal, has he failed already?

The pain in his head distracts him too much to let the tears spill, hammering with each step he takes. He walks to your closet, leans down as he searches the content of the boxes at the bottom. In theory, invading your privacy goes against the laws, but if there’s a chance to get you back like that, he can’t muster the strength to give a fuck.

He finds a passport. Doesn’t need it. Brochures for vacations in foreign countries, letters and pictures of when you were younger, with chubbier cheeks and a more radiant smile. No. Redundant. 

Jimin gets up. Walks to the night table. The one on his bedside proves utterly useless, too – there’s nothing he can do with small keys, locks and copies of official documents. God, you need to take care of your things better.

It’s not until he rounds the bed and scours the content of the other night table that he finds something he can work with. For one, there’s a pack of medicine. Ibuprofen? He takes out two of those, clutching them tight in his fist. Then, right underneath it, he finds a small A6 notebook.

A first glance onto the first page reveals names he knows or has never heard of, numbers and addresses scribbled next to them. Bingo – if this isn’t the thing he was looking for, he might be screwed.

He closes the notebook and hurries to pick up the clothes off the ground as fast as his body and head allow. Even his haste movements are careful and accompanied by grunts, but he pushes through the pain as he walks across the living room and into the kitchen. He fetches himself a glass of water, swallowing the pills to dim the pain and prevent inflammation.

Somewhere on the ground, he finds the phone he possibly lost last night while attempting to win you back. Pictures of your form pressed against the wall, the feeling of your lips on his, your hands trying to resist him with your whole being without succeeding emerge from his memory. He’s not sure if it’s the injury or your missing touch that hurts more.

The phone, laying in some corner, thankfully missed by the intruders, has minimal battery life left. He picks it up impatiently, pressing a cloth against his head he found in your kitchen. And then, he dials a familiar number until the voice greets him in worry.

“Hey. Hey, where the actual fuck are you?”

Hoseok sounds exasperated, busy; he never truly curses, and when he does, there’s a valid reason behind it. The reason this time being Jimin’s absence for hours. The radio silence since last night, the not showing up to work, the never calling in sick.

“There’s so much bullshit going on, Hobi,” Jimin says, providing no context or explanation.

“Like what?”

“Like.” He tells his older friend where he went last evening. What he did since then. What happened in the middle of the night, and what’s happening now that the sunrise is still so far away. “Some people broke in and took her with them.”

“Where to?!”

Jimin sighs, kneeling on the ground with the notebook open in front of him. He flicks through the pages, searching for a clue that might help. He recognises his own name, Hoseok’s, and a few others he knows from work. Those are numbers and information that co-workers at the office exchange just to be sure, but they’re not what he’s looking for.

Until, finally, knocking out the breath of his lung, he sees it. After months of searching, nothing could have brought him closer than paying you a visit, leafing through this very notebook and settling on this very page. There were reasons why you never let him in. Fears and worries keeping you from revealing the secret faraway place your true boss – along with you – resides in. Of course this apartment isn’t your permanent residence.

It could’ve been as easy as this.

There’s an address next to Kim Seokjin’s name that Jimin doesn’t recognise. He’s not sure if it’s in this town at all, because it looks cryptic, the postal code indicating another place, another city. The address occurs more than once, and he thinks most of the names it stands next to are closely related to the Swans in one way or the other.

“Dude–” Hoseok exclaims on the other side of the speaker, impatient.

“I think I know where they are. I’ll send you the address before my phone dies.” His head throbs, and he lets out a sound of despair, cursing, “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Just an injury to the head,” Jimin says casually, like his head isn’t bursting. “That's why I was unconscious.”

Hoseok exhales in worry, something in the background creaking like he’s ready to transport his friend to the hospital immediately. Then, he states, “That could be a concussion, man. You can’t work like that. And don’t you think of–”

“I’ve wasted enough time when I was passed the fuck out.” Jimin types the address into Hoseok’s chat, sending it hastily before he says, “Sent.”

For a second, the line goes silent, but then Hoseok lets out a frustrated breath, remarking, “Shit, that’s really fucking far away. Outside the city, I believe.”

“I know, just,” Jimin confirms, desperate, scared, “if you can, get there.”

“Of course.”

Hoseok hesitates, obviously thinking about something he wants to say, fearing his friend’s answer. But he tries anyway, “But I’m calling the ambulance for you.”

“No, don’t.”

Of course.

“Jimin, I–”

“Fucking don’t. Direct order. Alright?”

Jimin can see heart shaped lips pressing together, a head shaking, two fingers curled around suspenders and hair strands hanging low. It’s the same look Hoseok sports on stressed days, and he imagines his own state and direct order aren’t any less taxing than those days.

“Listen, you goddamn idiot,” Hoseok says, close to losing his sanity and patience, “you might get into an accident, or worse. Do not–”

“I’ll take a cab then, fuck.”

“I swear, you–”

And then, the line goes dead. Not because his phone battery has given up, but because Jimin has heard and forwarded the information he needed to. One last goal now.

He digs into the pockets of his jeans, making sure that the car keys are there, but he still dives for a different object first.

Fishing out his phone again, he dials the number of a taxi, trying to sound as calm as possible. He saunters back to the kitchen, searches for a first aid kit, finding one sparsely filled, and takes out some cotton and a bandage. He tunks it into the open bottle of alcohol next to the sink, absolutely sure this won’t do long-term.

But who could care?

Leaning over the sink, he waits until part of the pain and the spinning of his head have subsided. Then, he trudges to his private car, gathering one more gun than he already carries before he enters the cab wordlessly, ignoring the driver’s remarks and shutting him up with a flash of his badge.

Then, he mutters an address, takes a deep breath and watches the world fly by.

When you open your eyes again, the world is blinding and bright.

You don’t remember exactly when they closed. Perhaps when you were sitting in the backseat, resisting their grips, yelling into the congested space of the car. Screaming his name from the top of your lungs, yearning to go back, trying to ask the world around you if he’s alright and alive.

The birds and the wind you heard through the open window couldn’t whisper to you what went on between the walls of your temporary apartment. So when they held you back, drenching a cloth with chloroform right in front of your face, you stopped resisting.

Maybe it was better to waste your hours away in unconsciousness than to worry about something you had no control over. Not like this, unarmed, trapped, the damsel in distress you never saw yourself as.

You’re not sure who brought you to your room – you’re certain it’s your room – because you don’t think you were awake enough to realise. Even though you’ve regained full consciousness, you still don’t dare to open your eyes just yet.

Somewhere in the distance, you think you hear a voice.

Only that it’s not in the distance.

It’s right next to you.

“Why are you back here?”

His voice is tender and soft, talking to you after such a long time. Your heart falls into unknown pits, because you didn’t think you’d see this day ever again. Or hear him again. A tear escapes the corner of your eyes, your hands clutching the blanket you didn’t realise was there.

He doesn’t sound like he’s drowning right now – sounds so very alive. 

But you only understand his absence and your own madness when your eyelids finally do flutter open. The room is empty. And still. Cold, considering that your bedroom stands on the ground floor. Your soul is the only one alive here; and you don’t believe in ghosts.

“You’re not really here,” you tell Yoongi’s voice, rubbing your forehead like it could dissolve his face from your mind.

“Of course I’m not.”

You laugh a little, sniffling.

“So I’ve gone crazy. Cool.” Your laughter ebbs down, and you stare at the boring, white ceiling above you. For an expensive, prestigious manor, your room is as monotone as any vacant, vapid place. “It’s rude of you that you’re not here.”

You hear a familiar chuckle, sounding through your skull, and he… you… your mind says, “I think it’s worse that some part of me is still there. Not that you should forget about me, but,” he pauses, hesitating, “maybe it’s time to move on.”

“I don’t know how.”

“I think you do,” he refutes. You wonder how far your abilities of holding a soliloquy with two different voices can go. “Do you remember what I said?”

“You… you said a lot of things.”

“The day we sat at the riverbank.”

Of course your unconsciousness would remind you of the same old dream again. You’re not sure why it’s always that one conversation that your little brain always brings back, but you’re growing sick of it.

“You said to prioritise myself,” you answer, angling your legs, pulling them closer, “to not throw away my life.”

“Yeah.” He waits. Lets you think. “So?”

“So. That’s what I tried to do for so long,” you tell him, your voice breaking, not quite as firm as you’d like it to be, “when I promised you to live a better life for you, I meant it. In the beginning, I thought I could.” You shrug your shoulders, shaking your head, still dizzy from the chloroform. “But I think I butchered it.”

But he’s having none of it, arguing, “Hey. You know the security here… you know your way out blindly. Use that for yourself. You don’t need anyone to save you… you’re stronger than that.”

His voice carries a hint of your own now… the way you speak, the way you usually think when you’re not on rock bottom. Somehow, knowing that it’s you telling yourself all of this and not really him – not really anyone else – is… comforting.

You sit up. Rub your eyes. Adjust to the darkness and stare into the faint light of the lamp on the desk opposite of you. And you hear his dim voice speak one more time.

“Thought so.”

The forest shows warning signs at every other mile, ranging from visualisations of animals crossing the road or riverbanks ahead.

Sometimes, Jimin’s eyes catch sight of signs predicting falling rocks or approaching humps. But with a throbbing head and trembling hands, he never pays much attention to the subtle cautionary advices placed on the side of the road.

As the streets ascend and descend, he drives through the quiet night, surrounded by thickets and trees with a spinning mind. The voice of the navigation guides him calmly, but his heart’s beat overshadows it all.

Hoseok might kill him if he finds out his friend abandoned the cab near the office. Took one of the work cars instead. Which he’s operating right now; sure that it was safer for long distances than his private car. There was no way he’d trust a cab driver into this damned forest or risk his life, even less in a dangerous, possibly deadly situation like this.

Hoseok calls and updates him every now and then, informs him that he’s almost gathered their whole force, collecting the tools they might need, and that he will join his friend soon. Jimin knows that soon isn’t soon enough. Even he, driving around for what feels like ages, is only now reaching his goal; until Hoseok arrives, a lot can happen.

He parks a good half mile from the place he seeks, abandoning his car in the middle of nowhere to avoid attention he doesn’t need. Jogging the rest of the way, he follows the road, the sound and the lights.

And when he’s finally snuck close enough, the scenery reminds him of the ominous origins of romanticised fairytales.

You’re stronger than that, aren’t you?

When Yoongi left you alone in this world, it wasn’t to mope around – he wanted you to conquer your dreams and prioritise yourself and… live. 

This isn’t living though, right? Perhaps you should start now.

You push yourself off the mattress, shaky legs carrying you until you gather your strength and plant them against the ground steadfast. Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you tip-toe to the door. You’re ready to negotiate with whoever’s standing in front of your room – ready to knock him unconscious when need be.

But when you touch the door with your fingertips, it’s already open to a slit, the yard in the middle of the manor empty and silent. Maybe you could hear a needle fall if there wasn’t distant turmoil raging inside the mansion. From where you stand, it sounds like quiet chatter, but you know it’s just the usual chaos before bedtime you’re used to from this place.

When you step out, the wind blows for a small moment, unusually cold for a warm day. You brush your hair from your face, keeping your sight clear in fear you might miss the smallest movement from the corner of your eyes.

But when nothing happens, you take a deep breath, fixating your gaze on the door on the other side before you cross the yard on your tiptoes quickly. You open the door carefully, trying not to let it creak too loudly; but it seems that no one’s in the hallway anyway.

Eyes darting to and fro, you bend a bit, taking off your shoes and placing them next to the door. Your fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt as your stare falls onto the staircase, and you begin to move slowly. Navigating through the place in darkness proves harder than you imagined.

Paranoid, you search for signs of life, holding your breath as you climb the staircase in fast motions. You hiss and cringe at every echo your steps cause, although it’s dull and barely audible. To keep your sanity, you focus on your mental map of the place, knowing that you need to reach the first floor and cross the hallway to find yet another staircase that will lead to the main exit.

You have no choice but to cross those metres.

But to your misery, you’re more nervous than you thought.

Because when you’ve crossed half the hallway on the first floor, you realise that you’ve taken a wrong turn, cursing at yourself internally – you’ve lived here for so long. You should know better. And the regret only grows when you suddenly hear voices at the end of it, panic flooding your chest before you turn on your heel and ready yourself to walk the correct path instead.

But as soon as you turn, your body nearly crashes against another person present in the hallway, and you gasp in fear as you topple a few steps back, drowning in fear. You almost slip and fall onto the marble floor, close to yelling out a cry for help.

The man, however, catches you with a hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you to your feet again until you’ve found your balance and cleared your blurry vision enough to recognise him. He’s the second man who broke into your apartment just tonight, shaking his head at his accomplice as though he was sorry for you.

You don’t know his name; know nothing about him. There’s nothing you can say to him, nothing else than to beg for him to stay quiet. As you keep staring at each other, your breath hitching and hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, you prepare yourself to run away or do something you should not be considering at all.

But then…

His grip loosens around your limb, and he gulps, backing away in quiet permission. His actions say that he’s not your enemy – that it’s okay to trust him, and that he’ll trust you in return. That you don’t deserve whatever Seokjin is cursing you with.

You don’t know why he brought you here in the first place then; but you take what you get. Guilt sometimes arrives later, you guess.

With damp eyes, your shivering legs carry you past him, your gaze never leaving his and your hands still balled into fists, ready to fight if he decides to betray you after all. But when he doesn’t move, his head hanging low, you accelerate your steps, whisper the smallest, “thank you so much”, and run into the opposite direction of where the voices are creeping closer.

Hazy and scared, you inch closer to the desired staircase, walking down the steps in alert with the entrance as your ultimate goal. You tap through the darkness until your hand is touching the handle, your breaths uneven before you step into the garden – and that’s when you see them.

The place looks like a small castle. Probably perfect to hide an entire crew of mastermind thieves, but fitting to vampires rather than a quiet mafia. The outer garden, adorned with colourful flowers, lays still, the petals and leaves slightly flickering against the mellow breeze; it wouldn’t be surprising if yellow werewolf eyes were staring back at him.

Kneeling, with the gun cocked and in his tight grip, Jimin tip-toes through the bushes that are planted at the edges of the yard. He wonders if he could see you from here – hear you breathing from a room, feel your presence, awaiting and alive.

Solving the case has become a second priority; if he can anyhow get you out of this hell and the clutches of those people, he’d consider his mission successful and cleared. He can refocus on the purpose of this case once he’s seen you breathing and well.

For a few moments, he waits. His legs twitch in anticipation, urging him forwards, telling him to trudge towards the entrance and find you in whichever room they’ve hidden you. But right when he opts to leave his crouching positions, voices seep through the air of the crisp forest night; one of them, he recognises immediately.

“Then that’s done, too,” the other guy says, and from where Jimin watches, the man silences for a second to yawn. “I really need to go to bed. You owe me.”

“You say that as if I haven’t done a hundred things for you before,” Seokjin says, a slight laugh lacing his voice so softly that, without any knowledge about him, he might sound like a casual sweetheart.

Jimin’s head focuses on registering every word the pair utters, but it proves hard with the distance between them and the still aching temple. The painkiller has kicked in at least subtly, though he still feels like the mess he was back at your apartment. The light is hidden behind the horizon, but sunrise must not be far.

He fishes out his phone, staring at the battery status, happy that the charger in the work car provided him with just enough to do what he wants to do. Tapping the symbol of the camera, he calculates the angle, hastily pressing the recording button for evidence.

“You also owe me for driving all the way to the city and back. Dealing with her wasn’t as easy as you said it would be,” the man speaks again, laughing as though he cracked the joke of the century. “She’s feisty.”

“That’s a good word to describe her.”

“I was gonna call her something else, but–”

“Anyway,” Seokjin interrupts, clenching his jaw with a dark gaze; the hands in his pocket turn to fists, “she’s gonna stay here when we start our next project.”

Seokjin mentions a name directly from the list you and Jimin wrote down weeks ago. Back when you deciphered the picture of that prestigious, rich party, rambling about cardinal points and whatnot.

The guy next to him nods, still in a clownery mood that won’t subside as he jokes, “I’m surprised that someone in this country still owns a tiara at all. I hate people who crown themselves like they’re fucking royalty.”

Seokjin joins his snicker for just a moment before he hears a rustling sound in the bushes next to him. It’s too dark to make out shadows or whatever creeps behind the trees, but he does catch a glimpse of a stray cat.

He continues nevertheless, saying, “And I need some of you to stay, too.”

The man looks baffled, even somewhat annoyed as he questions, “Me, too?”

“It’d be nice of you to do so.”

“Why?! I’ve been there every single time, and–”

Jimin’s eyes flit from the cat that disturbed his peace to the situation unfolding in front of him. In his surprise, he dropped not only the phone, but his gun, too, and retracting those now might cause too much noise. Especially with the way Seokjin’s back has already straightened in alert and his focus has shifted.

Ears clearly perked.

Not even the third presence joining the party lets his attention falter; Jimin notices it in Seokjin’s stance and in his movements. The subtle little steps towards the bush, yet not close enough to see Jimin just yet.

“Sir, we found a car about half a mile from here. It’s empty and abandoned, still intact. And the hood is still kinda warm.”

That’s all the middle-aged woman says. But Seokjin doesn’t react surprised, nor do his eyes wide. He merely nods towards the clown standing next to him all this time, telling him, “Go check it out. Keep your eyes open, though, yeah?”

This time, his colleague doesn’t bat an eye or argue further. It’s clear that he’s not feeling up to the task, especially after the long night and after preparing himself to go to bed soon. But he can’t defy his boss if he wants to sleep peacefully tonight.

The two strangers stroll away, unbothered, like they’re taking a walk. Hands in their pockets, they mumble something neither Jimin nor Seokjin can hear; perhaps an annoyed grunting and groaning.

“It’s fine to come out now,” Seokjin sings, apparently in a better mood than before.

Jimin freezes. Feels another sting in his head when he moves.

“And you might leave any unnecessary weapons right there.”

Jimin isn’t scared of Kim Seokjin.

He’s dealt with bigger psychopaths before. Those who don’t have a villain origin story, no mental health condition, nothing to justify their actions with. They brought him on the verge of death one too many times, and Seokjin, unarmed and smiling, seems like a kid’s toy compared to them.

So the fear rooted in Jimin finds it source not in what Seokjin could do to him… but what he could do to you if Jimin failed this mission and left you here to suffer.

“What happened to your head?” Seokjin asks, laughing a little, unabashed and mannerless.

“Your minions,” Jimin answers, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

He steps closer to where the enemy stands, inhaling the fresh air of the forest and the garden. It’s a wonderful place to camp or hike – if there wasn’t a nest of criminals in the middle of the woods, he might have considered a trip in the future.

“If it helps anyhow,” Seokjin defends, flashing his teeth, crinkles around his amused eyes, “I just told them to bring her here, not to knock you almost dead. I can totally talk to them if you’d like.”

Jimin puffs out an annoyed breath, his eyebrow rising in mock, but he lowers it immediately when he feels the pain behind it. Biting his lip for a second, he answers, “I appreciate the hospitality, but… it’s fine.”

“Don’t say I didn’t offer.”

Jimin is in no mood to beat around the bush. He’s sick of those games, and of this hide and seek, the cat and mouse bullshit, all the suffering they bring. Lowering his gaze, blinking, he asks, “Where is she?”

But the answer doesn't alleviate the pain or soothe his worries; only irritates him more.

“Why don’t you go look?”

“Right.”

“I’m serious. She’d be delighted to see you.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin’s words, trying not to let the admissions fog his mind enough to lose focus. “I’m not gonna act like she forgot about you in just one night, so I’ll admit that she really… like, really wants to see you.”

“Why,” Jimin begins, shaking his head slowly, “are you telling me?”

“Because I’m honest. I appreciate honesty.”

There’s something comedic about the way Seokjin says it. It’s like he’s adding absurdity to a scene he’s acting out, like he’s in a movie, building up to the climax. Hiding something to attack with as soon as the villain’s jokes have landed well enough.

If a build-up is what he wants, Jimin will play along until reinforcement arrives.

��Man,” Jimin mocks, his thumb rubbing his forefinger in nervousness, “that’s why you’re a thief, right? And why you steal and hide.”

“I steal and hide, because those people have way more than they need. Come on, Park. A fucking tiara? Set of rings they won’t use? All the diamonds in this world they’ll never wear, but they just want the thrill of owning them.”

He steps closer, brushing his fingers through his long, dark hair. He truly does resemble an antagonist in a blockbuster.

Smirking, he continues, “We get those. Then sell them to… buyers we know again. We buy things for people actually in need, and support our families who have raised us with nothing.”

“So your excuse is your chivalrous Robin Hood act?”

“Whatever,” Seokjin shrugs, rubbing his hands together, “at least Robin Hood was the first thing this whole affair made you think of. That means something.”

“Was killing Min Yoongi an act of chivalry, too, then?”

That’s what silences the man in front of Jimin immediately. He straightens his posture once more, the smile vanishing from his face, an expression so poisonous replacing it that Jimin thinks he might attack any moment.

It seems that Min Yoongi is a weakness for everyone in this household. For once, Jimin reckons it’s okay to hit that wound.

Seokjin, apart from whatever his countenance and the shadow on it suggest, remains somewhat calm, questioning with a little more vexation in his voice, “What do you know about Yoongi? You’ve known her for what, a few weeks? And you act like you know her whole damn life story. Wouldn’t be surprised if she overshared.”

He shakes his head, his smirk ingenuine and mocking, “I gotta admit, I only sent her to you as a spy. But that woman…” His voice shrinks. “Took a damn necklace we stole and wore it in front of you.”

The tone of his voice might be quiet and serene, but his words are dipped in venom and anger. He isn’t hiding it as well as he’d like.

“Kim Seokjin,” Jimin spits, not particularly veiling his own resentment, “you look so fucking noble, but then you keep a girl here against her will. Without noticing what it’s doing to her, huh?”

“I think I know what it’s doing to her,” Seokjin responds, never dropping the façade of a know-it-all, “her boyfriend died for her and now she’s suffering the aftermath of lying and hiding. Sending her to you– forcing her to do our dirty work is the least she can do to make things right.”

“Make things right…”

This time, it’s not Jimin rasping those words in fury, ridicule and indignation. Sometime during the conversation, the entrance of the mansion opened soundlessly. The climax of your very own movie proves to be right now, the dramatic moment so palpable that Jimin wonders if he’d wake up if he pinched himself hard enough.

You’re still wearing the clothes you left in. Your hair is a mess, your eyes tired, and you stand at the entrance with your arms wrapped around your body. A light sway accompanies your steps, feet carrying you to the grass and near the bush where Seokjin and Jimin stand.

If Jimin has anything to say to you or to warn you about, then he can’t remember anymore.

The only thing ringing true so clearly is that… you. That he needs you to smile. That he needs all this to be over. That he’s tired of this, losing his will to live through this moment, that he wants to flash forward to a day where you’re both okay.

In each other’s arms. His voice telling you that he loves you.

All that passes his lips instead is your name.

And you look back with the same sorrow; close to saying whatever you want to say before Seokjin side-eyes you and interrupts, “Only half expected that.”

“Jin… please,” is all you manage, disappointed in yourself that you can’t quite verbalise what you’re pleading for.

“Go back in.”

Jimin watches your head shake, stubborn and reluctant as you inquire, “Why would I?”

“You’ve done more than enough damage.”

“I haven’t done… shit,” you answer, obviously just as done with his relaxed commands as anyone else. You hate that he utters those things like they’re natural; like everyone’s bound to listen to whatever he orders. And you did, for a large part of your life – but not tonight.

“Right,” Seokjin replies, turning his head a little further, apparently not fearing Jimin all that much. No one might, standing in front of a bandaged man like him. “Fucking the enemy isn’t anything at all, right?”

For the teeny tiny moment that your and Jimin’s gazes meet, fleeting and ephemeral, his eyes signal to the bush slowly; you barely take in more of Seokjin’s scolding as Jimin touches the empty holder of his gun and lowers his hand again immediately.

One more warning from Seokjin, and he turns back to the awaiting Jimin, acting as though time stood still for him. For the leader of such a notorious group, robbing half the richest people of the country, one would think he was more careful.

But as he prepares for another endless nefarious speech, expanding the night and his ego, you move to the bush quietly, careful to not make a noise until–

Seokjin hears the susurrating swishes of the bush and its leaves within a moment, only realising what’s happening when you’ve picked up the gun with trembling hands and stuffed Jimin’s phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

You hold the gun towards the man who raised and ruined you, your arms shaking so much that Seokjin can’t quite decide whether he wants to laugh or skin you alive. But he opts for an option in between, gritting his teeth with fires burning in his eyes before, broad shoulders lifting, walks over to your form. Confidence drips in his stride, like he knows you will not pull the trigger on him.

His fists are balled, ready to serve a hit; but Jimin, with all the strength he can muster, jolts forwards, nearly falling to the ground as he tugs at Seokjin’s leg and brings his body to an uncomfortable fall.

“Shoot! Anywhere, you,” Jimin yells, holding the kicking man tight, his feet missing Jimin’s face just barely, “you don’t have to kill him, baby, just–”

You’re confused and panting, your hands sweaty around the pistol, your vision becoming blurry before you blink the mist away and take a deep breath. You realise that you’re crying, and that your chest is hurting, that it’s hard to shoot someone who has thoroughly destroyed you, but who you might never be able to hate a one hundred damn percent.

But if you hesitate, he’ll end you both. And by god… you can’t lose another man you’ve learned to cherish so dearly.

You can’t.

You can’t.

So your ears ring. Twice.

It shakes your guts and your heart, sobs filling the night air as you keep holding the gun, cautious to not drop it for anyone to pick up. You stare at your target; watch him scream out in agony, a bullet-sized hole in his black pants where you missed Jimin’s hand by a hair’s breadth.

He’s writhing and cursing, attempting to stand but failing immediately. Jimin looses his grip around him and gets on his feet, hurried and tumultuous voices from the inside snatching his attention as he watches you catch your breath desperately.

Seokjin’s pain overwhelms him enough to stay on the ground for the seconds that you need, and as Jimin runs over to you with a hand on his throbbing head, adrenaline floods your body enough to regain your senses.

You grab his hand tightly, just as damp as yours, and sniffle, the survival instinct so strong that you wonder if you’ve ever experienced a sight this clear. But panic still rises in your chest, and you’re beginning to ask yourself if you’ll make it out of here alive. The steps behind you, in the manor and in your head, creep closer, and you half expect someone to tear you back by your hair.

But some of Seokjin’s people never park too far from the house; and in that sense, you reach the nearest car soon enough, gathering all your power before you lift the gun and shoot into the window thrice to weaken it. You smash the handle of it against the glass, relieved when it breaks, opening the door from the inside before you scurry Jimin and yourself inside.

Brushing large chunks of glass off your seat with your bare hand, you comb through the glove box restlessly, mumbling like a mantra, “Spare key… spare key,” until you find it.

Jimin next to you bends forward, holding his rotating head as his body sways back and forth. You want to take care of him; god, what would you do to drive him to the nearest hospital if fleeing wasn’t your first and foremost priority.

“It’s okay,” you assure, pushing him back, trying to readjust his body, so he doesn’t get hurt, “we’ll get through this. It’s okay, I promise, I fucking promise.”

More tears spill as you turn on the engine, more panic and fright coursing through your body when you hear voices grow louder and people’s faces appear in your proximity. Seokjin, from where you can still see him, has managed to stand at least somewhat, albeit still wobbly on his legs, not really able to catch up to you just yet.

With a deep breath, you drive off, not minding the bumps and darkness as you make a beeline through the carefully planted garden, and to the paved road. You go well over a hundred, your recklessness shooting past limits as well; you don’t know what you’re doing or where you’re going. Not sure how long you’ll be able to escape.

You pray for a few moments of silence, and the world grants you those just for a minute or two.

Because soon enough, you hear another car in the distance, dangerously close, and when your chest begins to rise and fall harder, you allow yourself a glance at Jimin. He’s dozing off; like his body is finally allowing him some peace.

But you’re scared of what might happen if he went silent; so you nudge his shoulder, sniffling again as you exclaim, “Hey! Hey, please, look.” He opens his eyes, his lips pouting, and follows your finger pointing at the road. “We’re almost there.”

You have no clue where there is; you just need to keep him awake.

“Listen, I…” Jimin mumbles your name, managing to place a palm on your knee, “I love you, okay? Didn’t know I ever would, back… back in the club, but… you’re so fucking…”

“Shhh,” you answer, your face drenched with tears. It hurts, fuck, it hurts so much; why does he sound like he’s saying goodbye? “Be quiet, it’s okay, yeah?”

The club. Yeah, you remember. The way you danced, and his eyes; the night, the morning after, his scent. You remember.

“Fuck, just wait a second, okay?” you repeat over and over again, terrified and alarmed, losing hope when the chasing car sneaks closer.

And you think you would promise him some more, give him more reassurances that might or might not be justified.

But then… a light blinds your vision.

Like you’re in heaven. Like you’re dying.

Whatever it is, it comes towards you at a worrying speed; and you think you hear sirens blaring behind it. In your horror and as an immediate reaction, you tear the steering wheel into the wrong direction, escaping the daunting light before you realise what you’ve done.

But there’s no time for more realisations anyway. Because suddenly, your car has left the road and entered the edge of the forest. Crashed against a tree. Airbags out, your nose bleeding, oxygen pressed out of your lungs.

Jimin, next to you, eyes closed and unresponsive.

More sirens, more lights, more shouts, and more gunshots.

And you, drifting away ultimately.

The light that you blink into once you open your eyes reminds you of heaven, too. Somehow, it proves to you that you’ve found your place beyond life, and somehow, it doesn’t scare you anymore.

And maybe you’d hold onto this thought if your limbs weren’t aching. If your body was more weightless, floating on clouds and not on what you decode as a bed very fast. Dizzy and tired, you sit up slowly. The room is empty, and only one bed stands in the middle of it.

There’s an incessant beeping in your ear, and you soon decipher where it comes from. A pipe is pumping something into you, and the monitor registers your heartbeat, steady, soft, and clearly alive.

Near your bed, on the small table, rests something like a remote control, and the symbol of the bell probably means that you could summon nurses with just one single press on it. But the quietude is nice… serene. There are questions you need answered, but for a second, you bask in the peace after the world exploded left and right around you.

And when you’re ready, you do use the button – and as expected, a flurry of nurses comes in, checking and engulfing your surroundings, like you’re an unknown species ready to be probed.

“Just… just one, please,” you plead quietly, crossing your legs under the thin blanket and your hospital gown.

Everyone except one male nurse leaves, and he sits down on the bed next to you, smiling. That’s their act, you know. It’s how the medical staff looked at you that visited the manor after Yoongi’s death. Reassuring, like they could lift your pain with this smile somehow.

You adjust to it.

“Hi,” you say, your voice friendly and quiet, but carrying remnants of fear.

“Hey,” he answers, his voice sweet and deeper than expected, “my name is Namjoon.”

“Nice to meet you, Namjoon.”

“How do you feel?” Namjoon questions, looking up at the monitor before he places a thumb under your eye.

He fishes out a light from the pocket of his scrub, checking your pupils carefully. God, the constant light. Annoying.

Without awaiting your answer just yet, he places a hand on your back, asking, “Can you breathe for me for a moment?” And when you do, deep inhales and exhales, he adds, “Okay. Breathing normal. Your pulse, too. You scared the hell out of us.”

“I did?”

“Hella. An accident in the middle of some forest? Running away from thugs? We don’t get that every day.”

You smile again, appreciating his humour. He doesn’t try to sugarcoat things, doesn’t attempt to lift your worries by telling you it’s going to be okay. He seems genuine, so you answer, “Thieves. Not thugs.”

“All the same evil for me,” Namjoon admits, patting your thigh, “who could care anyway? It’s done.”

You furrow your eyebrows, somewhat glad he addressed this topic before you even had the chance to mention it. Because it gives you more reason to ask, without feeling ashamed. “What do you mean by it’s… what happened?”

“Uh.” Namjoon’s full lips part, light brown hair falling into his eyes. He looks young and sweet; perhaps that’s why he understands how to talk to you. He isn’t bored of his job yet. “When we found you, one of the cops… no, detectives said you’d torn the steering wheel and knocked you and the passenger unconscious.”

At the mention of him – not even his name – something stirs in you. You want to ask.

But you wait.

“There was this big, dramatic showdown and we waited in the ambulance, because that main guy had called us to follow him. The bad guys were outnumbered, though, partly unarmed. The detectives shot a few unconscious, and arrested some more. Found the manor you fled from, repeated everything, then put an end to the horror.”

“They… did someone die?” you ask carefully, thinking about Seokjin. You don’t want him to pass away just yet – you want him to live some more. Carry guilt, sorrow and pain some more. “The leader?”

“Nah. No one died, I think,” Namjoon confirms, shrugging, “not the leader at least. He was wounded. A lot of them were, since the detectives came on so damn strong. But there will be trials soon.”

Shit. So much happened in such a short time?

“How long was I unconscious?”

“Just two days, love. It could have been worse.”

It could have been worse.

You know worse things happened. Just not to you.

“The guy next to me… the other detective–”

“Park Jimin, right?”

“Park Jimin, yeah, yes,” you say, suddenly louder, sitting up some more as Namjoon’s hands float in front of your body, protective. “Where is he? Is he…”

Your eyes whisper the word your mouth can’t, and Namjoon doesn’t understand it for a moment long enough for you to panic before his eyes blow wide and he exclaims, “Oh, no, no! God, no. He’s… he’s just in the room next to yours. But it was worse with him… longer surgeries and check ups, and he was unresponsive for a while, ‘cause his head and all…”

“And now?”

“He’s… still passed out.” He says it like he’s sorry. Like he’s not a doctor, but a God, obliged to save every single patient entering the walls of the clinic. But apparently, not even a God can help everyone. “But he’s better. The wounds are healing, so… he’ll be okay.”

You’re not sure what you need to process first.

The fact that you’re alive? That the boss of the Swans, a group impossible to catch over years, is awaiting a trial he will lose? He can’t buy himself out of this, you’re sure. Or maybe the realisation that only a wall separates you and the sleeping presence next to your room, unaware of your thoughts or what’s happening in his force?

Whatever it is, your stay at the hospital gives you ample time to think about it all.

Because Jimin doesn’t wake up for a few more days.

You stroll through the hospital grounds, share food with strangers sitting on benches, taking in the sun. Some of them are old, smacking their lips, and their hair is grey and their smiles sweet and tender. Their spouses visit them sometimes, and you wonder how it feels to spend an eternity with someone you love like this.

There are afternoons when you cuddle up in your bed, muffling the sound of past voices, trying not to think of gunshots and screams and darkness, surrounded by trees. You throw out the nurses, urge them under tears to leave you alone.

And in the evenings after those afternoons, you take more walks. More shared snacks. Taking meds for your healing head, nose and heart. Stabilising your breathing, reassuring your traumatised lungs.

Conversations with kids who broke their arms or mothers who stay here with their sick toddlers. Terminally ill people, talking about life and how it’s important to cherish it, or, alternatively, how it’s fucked up and unfair.

Every single time, you pass his room. Peek inside, see the blonde bundle of hair. His chest falls and rises, like an angel sleeping carefully, lips shining in the sunlight, albeit pale.

And when you pass the room for the fourth or fifth time – who really knows – you catch a glimpse of him looking back. Squinting, barely awake, mouth open and arms unmoving next to him.

You don’t think you’ve run to medical staff this fast. You don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life towards anything.

There are constant tears you keep wiping away, angry at them, because they’re blinding you, blurring the sight of Park Jimin coming back to life to you. You stand in the corner of the room, holding yourself together, waiting until the nurses are done with the check-ups and have confirmed his stable state and form.

Jimin doesn’t speak much – he doesn’t say hi to them or converses with them the way you did. Namjoon tells you he’s still confused, still needs to rest. And before you can say anything more to him or the man on the bed, Jimin falls asleep again.

Tonight, they allow you to stay here.

You don’t take a no, never give in. You argue that you’re okay enough and that they’re keeping you there just for science anyway. It makes no sense, you know, and they find it funny enough to laugh with you, leaving you alone ultimately.

You hold his hand all night. You brush through the dirty blonde, light, messy hair. You press a cheek against his fingers, cry silent tears into his palms.

And you don’t leave until he opens his eyes again.

He blinks at you… smiles. Glad that you’re both still here. He doesn’t ask for an explanation, doesn’t want to know what happened over the course of The Night, as you and Namjoon have baptised the day you shall not name.

Instead, his thumb rubs the back of your hand, and the first thing he mumbles is, “We’re some tough motherfuckers.”

You laugh through your tears, relieved and breathing heavily. Your heart thumps to the beat of his; follows the rhythm of the up and down on his monitor.

“I hate this smell,” he adds, and you sob harder.

“Me too,” you tell him, “I fucking hate it, too.”

His voice… his voice. It makes you realise that he’s here, and he will stay. Min Yoongi will never be prouder of you than he might be right now. Because you’ve finally broken the metal bars of your jail.

And freedom has never felt this real.

As days pass, you and Jimin develop a quiet routine that your bodies live through automatically.

In the morning, you lay around, talking about whatever comes to your mind, focusing hard on not discussing the events that brought you here in the first place. Then, a nurse usually checks in, gives you some meds, and then leaves you for another couple hours.

Around noon, you go for a walk around hospital grounds, watching flowers bloom and children run around, fresh mothers leave with their newborn babies and elderly people conversing and bonding over similarities in illnesses.

When you come back, you eat and complain, remarking how the soup is too watery or the porridge too mushy. The orange juice here tastes too sour for some reason, and you attempt to joke about your miserable situation to endure the physical pain and frustrating smell of the hospital better.

By the evening, when the sun sets, things usually become even quieter – it’s relaxing, though, no real trace of awkwardness but of still melancholy and longing to go out into the world fearlessly again. Jimin, usually a bundle of optimism, has crawled into a shell despite still smiling now and then. Cracking a bad joke here and there.

You think it’s the pain that has made him this silent.

But when you watch the sunset through the window of his room one day, you realise what’s happening in his mind. Because you’re grazing the skin of his arm with the tip of your fingers, looking at the orange silhouette around his blonde, messy hair – but he remains unbothered, instead whispering, “It’s always so pretty. The sky during this time.”

And you answer, “It’s like no sunset’s the same, right?”

To which he states, “Right. Hospitals may be shitty, but I think I’ll remember these moments with you.” Then, he looks at you, smiling tenderly before his gaze shifts back to the sky and he adds, “Hope you will, too.”

That’s when you understand. Jimin’s painting a picture of a future that differs so much from what you imagine; like your roles have been reversed. He knows what you feel for him – but you know that he remembers your fears, too. Perhaps he thinks you might change your mind and leave.

Thinks you might back away and revisit the life you had before you met him. And more than ever, you feel like you need to clarify your thoughts and erase his doubts.

So you gulp for a moment, placing a warm palm on the back of his hand before you ask, “We can remember more of those moments, right?” You smile at him, scared you might be losing what you finally thought yours. “Together?”

When Jimin looks at you again, the smile he responds with looks ingenuine. A little like the hopeless promises you gave him weeks ago when he asked you to stay. When you’d nod yes, tell him you weren’t going anywhere despite knowing deep down that you weren’t going to last.

You know the look – his is the same. And it’s terrifying.

Rushing and panicked, you lean forward, keeping your voice calm to not overwhelm him as you whisper, “I know you think I’ll leave again. But this time…”

He waits patiently, full lips opening just by a tiny fraction. You hold his gaze for a moment, a little lost in the waves of his pupils, and when they remind you of still water, you rewind and build your sentence new.

“When Yoongi died,” your hand stops over his fingers, softly entwining your grips, “he was on a ship. With Seokjin and his people. I wasn’t there.”

Jimin’s eyes look empathic, the gap between his lips widening as if to say something soothing, but you continue, “Seokjin said Yoongi drowned, because the ship sank… and apparently, he was one of the few who could escape the accident. And, well, I believe that one of those things was a lie.”

You roll your eyes to hide the pain, hoping that Jimin doesn’t see them well up in the evening sunlight. “Ships don’t just sink.” You sniffle, your mouth twitching upwards to a grin you hardly mean, and explain, “Knowing of a death like that comes with so many side effects. Like. I was scared of the ocean. Really fucking terrified.”

You remember the sleepless nights. For the first time in your life, you felt what an insomniac felt, spending the late hours awake, contemplating love, the breaths you took, the memories you carried. Wondered if you’d ever be able to see pictures of high waves again; if you’d ever accept an invitation to a beach trip again.

But.

“I’m using past tense, because I did get over it. You know how?” Jimin stays still and silent, watching you, furrowing his eyebrows in worry as he tilts his head in question. “I watched videos of paintings. You know, those tutorials… acrylic painting stuff. I didn’t wanna learn, I just wanted to ease my mind, and to be able to sleep. And then one day, I stumbled upon this one woman painting the night.”

Starry and quiet. You remember the utensils the artist used. A lot of tape to form a circle, drawing and tapping the brush around it until she took the tape off and painted the very last object that completed the picture at last.

“The ocean at night, to be specific,” you elaborate, smacking your lips, nodding, “but you know what else it had? The moon. And I’ve always admired the moon.”

Amidst your confessions, Jimin laughs quietly, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb before he finally breaks and asks, “What are you trying to say?”

“That something will be nice about your fears, too, I guess. You’ll find something redeeming even when you’re afraid. And we can’t be afraid forever anyway.” You chuckle softly, realising how crazy you must sound – but now that you’ve started, you might go all the way after all. “When I saw the moon, it was too pretty to be scared of the ocean anymore. The reflection was beautiful.”

In the distance, you hear the chatter of passing nurses, quiet whispers and laughter. It’s a good alternative to the usually hushed talk about grief and failed days at work, and you listen to their inaudible, cheerful conversation until it’s out of reach. On agonisingly slow days, this optimism keeps you afloat.

“So…” you add, fully aware how corny you must sound – but you don’t care, because you think that after all this time… he deserves to know. “Maybe you can be the moon in this new scenario. And maybe my fears of opening up are below the surface of the ocean. If I swim up, take a breath and look at the elegance that the combination of the moon and ocean is… maybe things can be okay again then.”

You’d be the surface then, right? The carrier of everything that lies underneath the waves. The host of the fears, but focused on beauty instead of scary depths.

“Do I even make sense?” you question when he stares for too long, most likely processing the words that not even you can’t quote anymore.

“I think so,” he answers, holding onto you tight, leaning in, “it makes sense.” Soft, rosy lips brush against yours before meeting your mouth gently. It’s nothing more than a peck, a fleeting touch that he breaks to say, “But I think you should think of yourself as the moon first.”

Despite the nonsense you just uttered, his words fly by you in a moment’s notice. But you don’t question the message further. Instead, you bask in the silence of the world, watching the sun descend and the moon ascend.

You don’t ask him what he meant when you go to sleep. Neither do you question his words when several more days pass, and you get used to your nurse’s kindness. When they release you and let you walk freely and you keep coming back to visit Jimin.

Even when he leaves, still drowsy on medication, strolling through the world after weeks, you don’t wonder about the meaning behind whatever he’d attempted to let you know. Less even, when you watch the trial and Seokjin behind bars, let Jimin help you get away with some social work, because you always suffered blackmail and manipulation by Mister Kim.

Doubts and insecurities about the feelings you house for him only resurface when he doesn’t touch you anymore. He doesn’t kiss you and doesn’t tell you he loves you. Nevertheless, he stays with you. Lets his shiny, sweet personality seep through his cracks soon again, finding new jokes to cheer you up with.

But the romance you shared, the one you reckoned would finally bloom healthily now – it stays dormant.

That is, until you pull him to your car on a cold winter afternoon, refusing to tell him where you’re going despite his incessant, poking inquiries. You distract him with your favourite songs, attempting to resist his teases, ignoring the way he squishes your cheeks, the way he trolls you for cursing at other drivers.

It isn’t until you drive off the highway and through an old, historic town, following your navigation’s instructions that you land at an empty, freezing beach.

Apart from you, there are only teenagers taking an evening walk, or couples laughing their way along the shore, a hand clutching a leash while their dogs run freely. They’re covered in thick jackets just like you, and they’re wiping their hair out of their faces just like you when you exit the vehicle.

They’re living and breathing and joking around the way you are – and still, something about you and your souls separates you from the rest of the world and its inhabitants.

“I…” Jimin mutters, brushing back the tresses that keep falling into his eyes, “are you sure this is the right place?”

You smile.

There will never be enough reassurances for him to understand that you don’t fear the seaside anymore. Jimin is always careful, though, always easy on you, tries to make sure you’re okay – multiple times, until you’ve sighed in frustration and demonstrated you’re over whatever worry.

You guess this might be the ultimate confrontation, though. You might not be able to step to where the waves meet the land just yet – perhaps you’ll postpone starfish-gazing and shell-collecting to another day.

But for now, this should do. So you nod slowly, answering, “Yeah. Of course. I know you like it, and… I just wanted to thank you.”

“That’s new. No mocking today an–”

“Shut up. I’m serious. Not anyone would just force me to abandon a temporary…” you scrunch your nose in disgust, “shabby old apartment and give up the guest room for me, and you just… just thank you for being an anchor.”

Since your accident and your hospital stay, Jimin and you have adjusted to each other’s fears enough to know when to digress. Your conversations have become more light-hearted, an attempt to dodge the gloom that hangs over your heads and the trauma connected to it. You don’t bottle up feelings per se – it’s more a try to move on. To forget.

Together.

But sometimes, when the room falls quiet and the smiles and jokes die down, you’ll say something to warm his heart, or vice versa. And none of you respond with much but a soft, simple smile. Reassuring, comforting. A palm on the other’s hand. A slight nod.

Jimin does the same this time before you flash a smile back, breathing in the air as you lean against the engine hood with your arms folded around your torso. He sniffles from the cold, and for a few minutes, you stare into the distance with squinted eyes, letting the wind burn in your eyes.

You watch the waves crash against the shore and rocks. From afar, you observe a child holding a shell pressed against his ear, not quite realising that he doesn’t need it in order to listen to the ocean. You want to tell him it won’t work from here – but instead, your eyes dart to his parents, and their laughter fills you with warmth.

Seagulls make happy sounds and descend from the air, just for a moment to touch the surface of the water. And only when you’ve breathed in more of the salty air, does Jimin clear his throat, look at you and say, “Thank you, too. It’s nice to leave the house for a bit.”

“It is.”

“And you look happy today, too.”

You blink at him, not quite expecting his statement; but then you laugh a little, humming before you tell him, “I think I am. It just,” you shrug, clicking your tongue, “feels nice to not think of the past all the time anymore.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Like, I catch myself planning tomorrow’s dinner and next week’s trip to the old town,” you continue, enthusiasm and vitality in your firm voice, “or I consider buying stuff for a new hobby, and even getting another, proper degree. It’s just. Nice.”

With a purposeful shift, Jimin’s body inches closer, his shoulder touching yours, and you look at his side profile when he questions, “Do you know what major you’d choose?”

“Not at all,” you confess, shifting towards his body, too. If you could, you would put your head on his shoulder and bask in his warmth and affection. But you hold yourself back a second longer as you add, “Something fun. How about archeology? Or astronomy. Just anything, so I’ve something to do and don’t bother you all the time anymore. Perhaps get a job and move out and–”

“I don’t mind,” Jimin interrupts, nudging your elbow slightly, “you staying. I don’t mind it.”

“Really?”

“I promise.”

You let your arms fall and bury one hand in the pocket of your jacket, bringing the other to your hair to comb through it slowly. Your tongue darts out to lick your dry lips wet, gulping for a moment as you process his words, but remark anyway, “But I can’t stay forever.”

It’s a statement, but there’s a questioning tone hiding in your voice, unsure and timid, like you’re hoping he’d wave your worries off and keep you with him anyway. And to your relief, he shrugs his shoulders, giving in to your hopes as he asks, “And why not?”

You fall silent.

The last months have been nothing but a healing process, soft and quiet and well-paced. You split the chores, spent time together and alone, going for walks in the evenings and visiting places to see more of the world. No matter what you feel for him, the friendship you’ve grown to is worth more than the painful love was.

But you still can’t deny that the thought of being with him–

“Being around you is a challenge,” Jimin suddenly says, looking at you, drawing closer.

He pushes his body off the hood of the car to step in front of you, hiding the sun and the ocean. His silhouette leans in, placing a palm on your waist and wrapping the other around your own hand.

For a split moment, your heart stills, and your mind tries to make sense of his words that followed the suggestion to keep him company so immediately. So you furrow your eyebrows in wonder, pupils flickering, and ask, “Why?”

“I just,” he starts. Then pauses.

It’s a peculiar thing, his pair of eyes.

You never quite know what he might say next – you reckon that’s how he felt when he first met you. The indecipherable stare, almost succeeding in veiling fears. But you know him well enough. You understand that he’s feeling uneasy, insecure.

And when he speaks again, you know why.

“I’m still in love with you.”

Still in love…

Was there any piece of you that thought he stopped loving you? Was there ever a little voice whispering to you that he’d moved on, realised that you were no good for him? And if there wasn’t, then why are you still surprised?

“I feel like being around you without telling you this is a challenge,” Jimin continues, shrugging his shoulders, his demeanour relaxed and nonchalant, but his voice fond and loving, “and I want you to stay with me. But I needed to let this out first.”

You’re not sure if you want to cry or cheer. Wipe your tears or fall into his arms. The euphoria and rush of adrenaline you feel are strangely wrapped in bittersweetness, and when you can’t figure out how to move your body, you continue to stay still.

With your mind still somewhat functioning, however, you open your mouth, swallowing another thick lump before you ask, “Then why didn’t we…”

Do this earlier? Give in to each other months ago? Fall asleep on the same bed, kissing and smiling, indulging in understanding and solace?

“You weren’t happy,” is what he argues. He chews on the inside of his cheek and moves towards you. Lets out a sigh of longing. “And I’m just… not as good at stitching people up as others might be. I thought I was, but you did for yourself what I couldn’t have.”

If you were somewhere else or with someone else, you might be mad. In another time or space, you might’ve felt your heart break at someone’s reluctance to help you heal. But since you’ve known Jimin, you’ve realised that no one in this world should truly depend on anyone else.

When people go to therapy, or find a confidant to pour their heart out to, do they truly do it to seek help and heal in the process? Or do they do it to learn more about themselves, to finally understand what they need to do in order to find happiness and the will to exist?

Perhaps Jimin has understood something that you didn’t before – that he would guide you through sorrow, but that it was ultimately you who’d pull yourself out of it fully.

You entwine your fingers with his, shivering from the cold, and then murmur somewhat inaudibly, “Thank you. For guiding me.”

“It’s the least I could do… I just didn’t think you could take love and… everything that comes with it just yet.”

“And now?”

Jimin sighs again, and you see his eyes soften behind the blonde strands of hair that the gust keeps blowing into his face. One last step, one slight shake of his head, and suddenly, your foreheads are touching.

The hand on your waist pulls your body close and against his, and then his fingers wander to your face to settle on your cheek as he whispers, “Now you look like…”

He doesn’t speak further, but you think you understand.

Back in the hospital room, when he said you needed to be your own moon, he meant that you had to find a cure in yourself, not in someone else. He’s rather the warm sun reassuring the moon; searing hot and comforting. Like the star going down in the horizon right now.

Lately, his presence has started feeling like a constant; like home. Not like the night, but like the light of the day.

He brushes back your hair, tilts his head. He smiles, and you remember the first time he looked at you – back when you knew nothing about him except for the fact that his touch felt different.

When you left his home after the very first night. Then met him again in his office. When he told you he wasn’t a toy who you’d use to patch yourself up again, but someone who wished to be your ultimate choice; because you wanted him to be, not because you needed it for your own selfish reasons.

Since then, quite a few things have changed; with time passing, they feel different now. Less dark.

Today, his words of you being your own moon finally make sense. It wasn't because he wasn’t ready. But because he was waiting for you to be ready.

Now you look like…

You look like he’s the only one you want to kiss. Like he’s the only one whose lips you crave. No past ghosts, no haunting memories, no old habits and toxic coping mechanisms.

For the very first time, no demon gnaws at your mind when his lips touch yours once again.

okay, ngl, this was the HARDEST fic i’ve ever written and it drove me insane. i know it’s not perfect, and i’m not a detective/mystery author, but i hope this was ok and the work from over half a year worth it 🥺  i hope you guys like how it turned out !!

if you did, please please consider liking AND reblogging !! i appreciate feedback, even if it’s just keysmashing in the tags, and it’s super important to me with this fic <33 i’m happy about all (kind) words, so feel free to talk to me hehe :]

[jmvore]

the boy with the flower crown ›🌱

‹ previous | next › ↳ SYNOPSIS ›  you always admired Jimin because he was never afraid to speak his mind and express himself. He was quick-witted and so unbelievably adorable that you knew there was something about him that you wanted to get to know. He was a luminous light that brightened the room he decided to strut into. So, when strutted right into you life, you knew you were in for a crash landing. › series masterlist | masterlist ‹

» RATING › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » GENRE(S) › smut, angst, fluff » AU › slice of life/college » PAIRING(S) › park jimin x reader » WORD(S) › 4.1k+ » CH. SYNOPSIS › jimin remembers you. remembers how you rescued him when you were kids. remembers how the two of you were practically inseparable until you weren’t. he hated that he had to leave town because of his father’s mistake but he hated even more that he had to leave the only true friend he’s had, behind. » WARNING(S) › no warning(s) to account for! Just Jimin being shy and cute. » POSTED DATE ›  » A/N › Thank you @/firefly-graphics for the divider(s)! they're so cute. Anyway thanks for reading lovelies.

chapter one: flower child

“I want you guys to think of everything I’ve taught you…”

The teacher’s voice becomes nothing but white noise as you twiddle your pen between your fingers. Today was one of those days that you didn’t want to be here. You wanted to be at home, doing nothing or everything (who knows). Luckily, you don’t have class for the rest of the day so you can do just that. 

“Keep in mind that you and your partner need to come up with the concept together…”

You take the chance to glance around the room in front of you as your pen manages to touch your lips. You absentmindedly chew on it as you vaguely listen to the rest of the lecture. You feel a sudden wave of drowsiness wash over you and your eyelids start to feel heavy though you fight the urge to fall asleep. 

“You’ll have partners for this project! I will be choosing them but you will have full creativity for your project…”

You quickly come to your senses and force yourself to pay attention to the lecture. You take a deep breath and try to focus on the topic that's being discussed. You can vaguely hear your classmates' whispers and shuffling of papers. You snap out of your trance when the professor asks you a question.

You panic and stammer, trying desperately to think of a response. You can sense the eyes of your classmates on you and your heart starts to race. You can feel the sweat forming on your forehead as you search for an answer. You realize you don't have an answer but before you can answer you see someone in front of you raise their hand to answer.

“Yes Mr. Park?”

He answers the question before you can embarrass yourself. You turn to him, eternally grateful that he was able to deflect. He smiles and nods in acknowledgment of your appreciation before returning his attention to the professor to finish listening to the lecture.

Park Jimin. 

Or you know him as the cute boy who is always smiling and falling out of his chair. Honestly with the composure that he carries himself in, you can’t miss him. Today though, you took extra care to notice him. His pretty dirty blonde hair crimped with curls. They fall onto his face just right, highlighting his cherub cheeks that you just want to pinch and kiss. You notice as the semester went on that your small crush had grown over time. It’s hard for it not to when he’s the cutest thing you’ve seen at this godforsaken place.

 You love that he was unapologetically himself.

You watch as he scrunches his nose and taps his nails against his table. You thought they looked pretty with the rhinestones and the little French neon tip on the end.

It definitely fit his style. 

You always admired Jimin simply because he was never afraid to be himself. To express himself. It’s in the way he dresses. In the confidence he exudes when he's walking around campus. In how he doesn't seem to care what others think. He does what he wants regardless of what people say and he doesn’t care who finds it strange or odd. He’s quick witted, so unbelievably adorable. He was a peculiar case but always so sweet and caring. A luminous light that brightens any room he decides to strut into. He always looks mesmerizing even when he’s just sitting with his cheeks puffed out in concentration. Or even chewing on his nails from what you assume was a nervous tick he had. His eyes sparkled with so much curiosity even if it was the littlest thing that always caught his attention. 

Even now, that same look is directed solely at your professor who's going on and on about an art project that counts as half of your grade. It’s repetitive knowledge at this point and you know you should still listen, should still care about the information that’s being given but at this point… you don't.  

“I already have your partner selected. Do you want me to tell you guys out loud or do you want me to post them?”

You don't know that Jimin knows when you're staring. 

He’s trying his best not to turn around though he wants your reaction to him knowing. You don’t know that he’s caught you a couple of times before. It’s hardly a game of cat and mouse, seeing as he wants to be caught. Though, he’d hardly ever classify it as something simple as that. 

“Out loud it is!”

You’re still focused on him once the professor until he starts to pair off students for partners. You figured you would be paired with Kim Taehyung again. You hoped not for this project, though you had little to no hope. He's done it so many times before that it's not even news anymore. 

Okay, it's not that you ‘hate’ Taehyung. It's just… there's a love/hate relationship you have with working with him. Sometimes it can be fun but sometimes it can be a huge burden with his constant flirting and (quote on quote) distractions. You shouldn’t study together when there’s a bed present, honestly. You often found yourself wishing you could work separately or alone because you know you would get a lot more done. 

So when he calls Taehyung’s name you brace yourself to hear your name coming right after.

Only, it never comes. 

The professor calls another guy's name who you’ve never met nor spoken to before. You take the chance to glance to the left side of you to see Taehyung's face fall from the grin he was wearing. The look of utter misery written all over it but you don’t let it show you’re happy about the change. 

At least, you hope he can’t tell. 

The professor continues rambling off student names. You can tell some are happy about their partners while others are not. You note there’s only a select few left of you left so you’re growing anxious on who your partner could be. When the professor finally calls your name, you don’t realize who you’re paired with until you notice all eyes are on the both of you.

Your eyes meet Taehyung who pouts at the revelation and the girl next to him looking just as gloomy. You know her as Jihyo, or better yet, a one-night you’ve come to regret. You didn’t realize she went to the same college and when you did, you instantly regretted it because she clinged to you like her life depended on it. You weren’t really the doting type to people you didn’t consider to be close to anything.

She didn’t understand that.

“I put you two together because you both have shown massive improvement!” Your professor boasts, glancing back and forth between you and Jimin as a smile spreads across his face. You’re quiet, taking the chance to examine Jimin again. His head is buried deep in his book to try and hide. Or at least, that's what it looks like. You know he wasn’t expecting to lock eyes with you when he's taken back. And when you smile, he feels as if his heart is going to stop beating. 

He’s not ready for this! He had planned to talk to you when he felt he was ready (which probably would have been never), but that’s been expedited.

“I can't wait to see what the two of you come up with.” He says before turning to address the whole class. “Your last project for the semester is going to be something rather simple. I'm giving you a premise and you get to choose what you want to do! You can take photos, draw, or paint your muse but it has to depict the battle between good and evil. Things like angels versus demons or god versus the devil. It doesn’t have to be extravagant but it has to be readable. See? Simple right?” Your professor rambles on. “The key is to always make sure your partner is comfortable with whatever it is you’re doing. If you take pictures or use reference pictures for your drawing or painting, you will need to include them with your art piece! Also, you can choose who will be the muse and who will create the piece. This is worth half your grade and once everyone is done, we will showcase everyone's work in an art gallery paid for by the school.”

Just as he goes to speak again, he checks the time to see that class needs to be dismissed.

“You have a week to talk with me about what you are going to do with your partners! I look forward to seeing everyone’s progress!”

You gather your belongings to get ready to leave, checking the time to note Hoseok should be getting out of his class soon. You still have some time though so you make a mental note to stop at the coffeehouse by the cafeteria for a caramel Frappuccino. You know you’re going to miss the chance to smoke but it's fine, you’ll do it later. You know you need to stop. Your roommates nag you about it every chance they get but it’s kind of hard to do when you're used to doing it every day. You've tried cutting back but it's harder to do when you're stressed the hell out. You just thank the heavens that you’re not one of those smokers that always smell like smoke that lingers.

Gross.

Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you’re ready to get out of here when you feel someone tap your shoulder. Being the person you are, your first instinct is to turn and glare but soon you realize how much of a mistake that was when you’re met with Jimin’s pretty smile. You take the moment to appreciate the art that is him. From the apple of his cheeks that are bright and red to the way his eyes turn into crescent moons. You're left breathless. His sudden appearance catches you off guard but also because of the beauty that is Park Jimin.

“Hey...” Jimin mutters, grinning wide to the point that his eyes disappear into crescent moons. You can tell by the way his voice cracks toward the end that he's nervous. Even as he messes with the edge of his sweater but eventually reaches into his satchel to pull his phone out. Handing it over to you, he urges you to put your number in. “C-Can I have your number? You know... for the project... if you don’t mind?” 

You can’t take how endearing he is. He’s stumbling over his words, blushing profusely, and looking as cute as ever and your heart feels as if it’s about to burst. You type your number into his phone and hand it back as he glances over your contact info. He sees you’ve named yourself ‘Bunny🐰🌸’ and honestly, it’s fitting. He remembers the day you and your friends were sitting in the commons area and he doesn’t know what was said, he just figured it was funny because all of you started laughing. His eyes found you and the way you laughed with your body was adorable. Foot thumping against the ground as your hand slaps your thigh. So yes, the bunny nickname fits you.

“Just call or text me when you’re ready to brainstorm. We can set-up a date or something.”

“Oh right.. Y-Yeah, a date! That’s cool.” Way to go Jimin.

“You’re adorable. Who knew Park Jimin could get flustered.” A devilish grin crosses your lips. You feel like you've teased him enough though. “See you around, Jimin.”

“Y-Yeah! See you!” 

You give a tiny wave and he waves back, as he watches you stroll out of the room. Jihyo and Taehyung are practically rushing to you. He notices she’s trying to entangle herself around your arm but you quickly shake her off. You find his gaze one last time before finally taking a turn to leave. 

Jimin gathers the rest of his things, his grin never diminishing even as he leaves the classroom. He finds himself wishing he could walk with you too or just wanting to be able to walk up to you like the others do. Would you say anything if he does? Would you even let him?

He has so many questions and scenarios running through his head he wishes he could play out but sadly, he doesn’t have the courage to. Even so, Jimin has to go in the opposite direction to get to his next class so right now wouldn’t be the best time. 

He slows his pace to class in hopes of being able to see Namjoon. Sometimes he’s able to find him and sometimes he doesn’t have time but he wants to share with him his big news! He shouldn’t be as excited as he is but who cares? 

“Boo!”

“What the hell, Hyung!” Jimin jumps out of his skin when he hears the voice he’s known all too well. It doesn’t help that Namjoon almost knocked him over too. Too clumsily for his own good, Jimin finds himself stumbling because Namjoon tripped over his own feet. 

”Oh shit! I’m sorry, Minie!”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine, Hyung,” Jimin giggles. He didn’t get hurt so it doesn’t matter. “I thought you had to meet with Yoongi?”

“Right. He and Yoonji had some family thing going on so I won’t see him until later on today.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Namjoon pauses their walk to examine the younger. He can sense something is different but trying to put his finger on it is something else entirely. “What’s going on with you? Wait…” Namjoon squints his eyes before he feels the light bulb go off. “Did you finally work up the courage to talk to her?” 

“Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me! Did you?” Namjoon nudges Jimin in his side while staring at him with a goofy grin. “Tell me what happened!”

“It was nothing big…” Jimin shrugs, trying to keep how excited he is at the bare minimum. “The professor assigned us as partners in our art class. I mean, it's a start! Especially since Taehyung was finally assigned to someone else.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he thinks about the mop-headed boy. He knows he can't be angry at him, it's not his fault but it was still irritating hearing both of your names being called together for projects, constantly. “I’m just excited.” Jimin smiles when he thinks about the possibilities. Did you feel the same? You seemed fine talking to him earlier.

Ugh, he feels like his head is going to explode.

“You're so in love. It's sickening.” 

“Am not!” 

“Are too but it’s cute though.” Jimin knows he’s teasing him but he doesn’t mind. If anything, he’s used to it but he can't help how you make him feel. He's never felt like this with anyone else. “I’m glad you’re finally opening yourself up to other relationships.”

Jimin nods, knowing exactly what he means. Their friendship has been a beacon of hope for not only Jimin but for Namjoon too. Namjoon has been a fixture in Jimin’s life since he can remember since Jimin didn’t have many friends when he was younger. Namjoon had some friends but as time continued on, they grew apart. 

Jimin stayed. 

Namjoon was there when Jimin went through trying to find himself, figuring out his identity and what he wanted from life. He never judged. Always supportive because Jimin always did the same for him. When Jimin told him he was genderfluid. Namjoon never questioned it. Namjoon had to research what it meant but eventually Jimin told him everything. Told him that some days he feels more feminine, wanting to look pretty, dress pretty and wanting to identify as a woman. While other days, he feels more masculine. It’s never set but, either way Namjoon respects the person Jimin has become and feels so honored that Jimin was comfortable revealing this part of himself. 

He was there when Jimin came to terms with his sexuality toward the end of high school because he knew he wasn't straight (if they experimented with each other when they were curious, it’s nobody else’s business but their own). It was after Namjoon came out that Jimin decided to do the same. Though when he told his friends he identified as bisexual, most of them started to distance themself from him. What hurt the most was that Jimin was abandoned by his family after coming out. He was scared of what the future would bring, but Namjoon was there to support him and reassure him that everything would be alright. And even his parents supported both of them, taking Jimin in when his own family kicked him out.

Namjoon was glad to see his friend finally grow to be comfortable in his own skin. He would defend Jimin whenever he had to and for what it was worth, he is proud of his friend. Thankfully, Jimin was able to find himself in this fucked up world.

Jimin waves his hands in Namjoon’s face, cocking his head to the side as he tries to grab his attention. He moves to try and get in his line of vision to grab his attention. Laughing when he realizes Namjoon was staring off into space. 

“Hello?” Jimin smiles. “Earth to Hyung! Did you even hear me?”

He shakes his head.

“Did you space out again?”

He nods his head.

“Of course you did.” Jimin tugs Namjoon toward the commons area, hooking his arms through the older’s arm as he lays his head on his shoulder. Curious and judgemental stares are thrown their way as always but Namjoon doesn’t mind. He’ll gladly tell anyone off if they have anything to say. “Anyway, I was just asking what I should do about our project.”

“The art project?”

“Yeah.” He wonders if you’ve thought of anything yet. ”What should we do?”

“What's the subject of the project?”

“Good versus Evil.” They make it to the coffee shop as Jimin checks his watch to see what time it is. Oh good, he has about twenty minutes before he has to get going. “He said it could be Angels and Demons. Well, you know the jist. I just don’t know what we’re going to do.”

He turns back to Namjoon who is grinning like a mad man and Jimin knows that look. He knows he’s about to say something mildly inappropriate when Namjoon wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Sounds like it could be sexy. Maybe you’ll get to, ya know.” Namjoon nudges Jimin who swats him away. He turns toward the barista to place his order, trying his best not to look too flustered in the process before turning to Namjoon once he’s done.. "If you're lucky." 

“Really, Hyung?” Jimin just stares, eyes cutting into him as Namjoon laughs at his own joke. If Jimin doesn’t appreciate it, he will.

“What? I’m just saying. You’ve been pining for this girl since forever, Jimin. You better make a move.” Namjoon laughs at the disgusted look his friend is giving him as his lips stretch to show off his dimples. Jimin playfully shoves him away.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jimin pouts only for Namjoon to pat him on the back. There's so many scenarios running through his head. What if you have someone already? If you do, are you happy? Is he willing to make a move if you do? Probably not. He doesn't have that much of a - but he guesses he can be your friend until he can. It's the closest he's been. “Hyung…”

“Yes?” Namjoon stops walking long enough to face the younger. He knows that look, knows Jimin is doubting himself and he hates when he does. “It will be fine.”

They finally get their coffee when Namjoon turns to look at the clock above the opening of the door.

“Shit! I forgot I had a meeting with Professor Chae-Young about my paper.”

“Your English professor?”

“Yeah. I had a couple of questions for her so I made an appointment.” 

“Mhm.” Jimin hums as he squints as if he’s examining him. “You sure you don’t want to just see her?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean, Hyung.” Just then a couple of underclassmen pass by before Namjoon can respond as they gawk at both of them. Namjoon gives them a smile, his dimples dig deep into his cheeks as he winks at them. They practically swoon at the gesture and Jimin can’t help but roll his eyes. 

“Oh! That reminds me!” Namjoon says, taking a bite of the scone he bought and instantly regretting it.

“They reminded you of something?” Jimin cackles.

“Shut up. Anyway, Seokjin-Hyung is throwing a get together next week. Are you coming?”

“A small get together? Or a party because you know how his get-together always turns into something bigger.”

“I think small? Maybe… Anyway, are you coming or not?”

“Probably not...” Jimin remembers how mostly everyone was plastered and he practically had to babysit Namjoon. He honestly didn’t want to go through that again but regardless, he could never resist the puppy eyes Namjoon gives him whenever something doesn’t go his way. Jimin sighs, “Maybe… I’m pretty sure I’m failing my biology class. Might need to study.”

“Well the offer still stands. Oh! You should see if she wants to come too. If not, there's another one towards the end of the semester he always throws. “Namjoon casually mentions before checking the time and realizes he has to leave. “Shit! I gotta go. I’ll catch you later Chim. Text me and let me know!”

“Okay, bye hyung!” Jimin waves him off, stuffing his phone into his bag before heading inside the cafeteria. Suddenly, he realizes he’s very hungry. He’ll just get something to tie him over until he heads back to his dorm for the day.

Luck definitely seemed to be resting on his side this time. He never thought he’d ever get to be this close to you, let alone actually talk to you. When he figured out you were in his art class, he secretly hoped the teacher would have paired you two together for at least one project but, of course, it was always either Kim Taehyung or Jackson Wang. 

He always wondered how Taehyung had the courage to approach you like he did. He never seemed nervous, always taking confident strides when walking next to you. He always seemed to be around you too. It was like you were close and even now, the both of you are standing next to each other to grab lunch at the school’s cafe. 

Was he jealous? 

Maybe . 

But this time, you were paired with him and he was going to make the most of it.

“Okay but I’m kind of sad I’m not paired with you this time,” Taehyung pouts.

“You got to be her partner for almost every project we’ve had this semester!” Jihyo recounts, scooting closer to you. You take the liberty of giving yourself more space but she only frowns. “I wanted to be her partner this time.”

“Okay but I don’t want to be either of your partners so shut up.” You pop a grape into your mouth as you glance around the cafeteria. You’re waiting for one of your best friends before heading home for the day. You just have unwanted company right now. “Anyway, has Yoonji been here today? I haven’t seen her.”

“No.” Taehyung shrugs, taking a bite of his pizza. “I remember Yoongi-hyung said something about a family emergency so I’m sure she’s with him.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“I don’t know.” 

You text her as you grab your food tray. The pair left at the table watched you leave. You think back to a time when you didn't have the two of them following you around like lost puppies. It got so bad that Yoonji and Hoseok said something to you but even after you turned both of them down (respectively), they wouldn't leave you alone. You were starting to feel overwhelmed and frustrated. You stopped responding to their texts and avoided them as much as possible, hoping they would take the hint.

Unfortunately, that didn't work.

Taking a deep breath, you give the two of them one last look before leaving your tray behind and rushing out of the cafeteria. It reminds you of why you need to be more careful about who you mess with in the future.

You decide to text Yoonji while your mind goes to think of Jimin. You can't help but laugh at how shy he was when he asked for your number (you would have given it to him even if he didn't have a reason to ask). You're debating if you want to text him when you realize you forgot to call yourself to get his number.

You stop mid-walk when you realize you forgot.

"Son of a bitch." You sigh, grabbing your car keys from your bag. It’s not that long of a trek back to your car when you hear your phone go off. Hoping it's him, that hope is shattered when it's the one person you don't want to talk to right now.

[12:43pm] ❌Jihyo❌: Do you want to hang out later?

© 2023 JMVORE › All Rights Reserved. DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work. Thank You! ♡

» A/N › Ah! Thank you guys for reading! I'm so excited to share this story with you. It's near and dear to my heart. I've been writing this story on and off for about two to three years now and I'm finally ready to share it with you! Anyway (look at me rambling), let me know what you guys think! I'd love to hear from you. Feedback is always welcomed here!

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[sugarwithtea]

paris in the rain || pjm [2]

pairing : bookstore owner!jimin x fem!reader

genre : angst, fluff, eventual smut, strangers to friends to lovers.

rating : pg-15

series summary : you hadn't expected to run into jimin, an unusually charming guy in the midst of love and peace, in paris. but here you were, falling for a man covered in the smell of old parchment and wine while also recovering from the traumatic experiences of your past. your work stay in paris, which you had took on for a change of atmosphere, changes every nook of your life.

chap word count : 5.8k

chap warnings : swearing. i made up an imaginary author and her imaginary works ;) there's lil angst — talks about cheating, mentions of nudity (in a painting)

a/n 1 : this one took a little longer than expected but i am sure you will love it because there is a lot of jimin in here :) and also tae and hobi hehe. its still lowkey and the plot is kinda building so umm, enjoy the vibes?? anyways. please lmk what y'all think about it haha.

a/n 2 : a big thanks to the dearest @jjkeverlast for helping me by beta-ing this chapter <33

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notte stellata sul rodano by van gogh

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"Y/N?" Jimin says as he regards you with the surprise of a bud which has just bloomed.

Hoseok looks between you both, yet again and goes wide eyed as he exclaims in a little shrill voice,

"You know her?"

"Yes."

He is smiling at you, truly. You can't help but return it back. You wiggle your eyebrows a bit and just nod back in greeting, opting to look back at Hoseok. Or else you'd just keep on staring at his smile, spellbound.

"Why is that surprising for you?" You ask him.

"Let me guess. One, cause he barely knows anyone around here and second, cause hey, you just moved in didn't you?" He holds out his arm, palm facing upwards as if trying to make you realize the obvious.

Jimin makes an unfunny sound and you let out a small giggle as he quips back, rather disappointedly.

"We ran into each other the other day, not that you'd know given you were too busy being a pain in my ass."

Hoseok's jaw drops to the floor as you laugh out loud, finally.

"Okay, rude."

You just stand there awkwardly, trying to stop laughing and gaze around the store to make it look like you weren't giving them attention as their bickering seemed to get a little too personal.

"Anyways," Hoseok says after a second of an intense glaring session with Jimin, "Your accidental run-in here wants the books you are holding in your hands."

"Oh yeah, that would be me."

Jimin looks at you and smiles, visibly lessening his irritation a little. "Right, because I really thought from when did this man," he points at Hoseok smugly, "start to think about the location of books he hadn't heard of."

"Oh yeah, you finally started it?" Hoseok shoves his hands in his pocket and stands up straight, ready to move away after a single word.

"What?"

"Thinking." and he walks to the desk with the snide remark and not even a last glance whereas Jimin just stares at him with his lips parted in mock offense and you try to control your laughter which still leaves your mouth in short bursts of amusement.

"Ignore him." he directs his words towards you, with a seething look towards Hoseok.

"Mhm. Sure." You smile funnily and he starts moving.

You follow him to the end of the aisle from where you just came, and he sets the books on the pre existing pile of books. You observe the way his blonde hair sticks to his forehead and the nape of his neck, a little wet due to the rain – the way his cream sweater fits around his torso, a little snug but enough to indicate that he is built, if not bulky. Your eyes trail down and before you can even register the fit of his pants around his thighs and his ass-

"I hope Hoseok didn't bother you much."

His voice snaps you out of your daze and you look up at him to see his eyes trained on the books sincerely. If you wouldn't have been so embarrassed by checking him out so shamelessly, you would have noticed a faint pink creeping up his neck under the blonde tresses.

"No no he didn't. He was an absolute treat to be with."

He was, indeed. You were nervous about meeting new people. Hell, you were even nervous about communicating with the shopkeepers you needed to interact with. But Hoseok made it easy for you from the moment you set foot inside the shop. For the briefest hour you spent in his company, you felt as if the dream you had expected Paris to be had returned in front of you with flashing colors of the sun in the rain. You saw Paris just like it had been romanticized by the media, and you didn't want to step out to face the reality.

"Ah, I'm glad." Jimin still doesn't look at you, but you can see the ghost of a smile lingering over his lips, causing one to form over yours instinctively.

"These are the ones you wanted. And I must say, the ones you have already collected and are now going to collect, show you have a pretty good taste." He finally looks at you while pointing at the books and you flush wildly.

People have always been quick at disregarding your likings. Even if they were as mere as taste in books you read. Your choice has always been questioned. So when someone you don't know praises, and validates your choice with such sincerity, your heart warms to an extent completely immeasurable.

"You think so?"

"Of course, Y/N."

And that's when it dawns upon you that he didn't only remember you as the person he had run into, he remembered your name. One that you had mentioned in a fleeting moment of haste, and incoherent mumbling, he remembered it. Sure, the same happened with his name. But you had a reason to remember him, as he was one of the very first people you had met when you moved. You on the other hand, were just a random passerby too lost to see her way.

"I see people buy and go through books every day. So when I say that your taste is good, trust me, I know what I'm saying." he finally gives you that eye smile and you almost sigh with relief at his words.

"Thank You, Jimin."

His eyes brighten up as if he too, like you, was not expecting you to remember his name.

Too nervous to hold eye contact with him, you look towards the books and take a battered copy of The Great Gatsby in your hand, going through the dog-eared pages and splatters of blue ink on the edges of the pages. Your heart swells as you realize it's a used copy, which means you'll get an insight into someone else's life, without judgment, without embarrassment, just love and excitement.

Jimin takes it as an opportunity to leave you to yourselves, his smile deflating a little. He almost moves when Hoseok appears in the aisle.

"Dear friends," he continued with an exaggerated flourish,"I am ordering food, would you like some?"

You look away from the book and towards Jimin as he seems deep in thought, mulling over the difficult decision of deciding what food he would like to eat.

"Whatever you have, Hoseok." he sighs at last. Hoseok just shakes his head disappointedly.

"And you, Y/N?"

"Huh? Me?"

Jimin laughs beside you.

"He did say friends didn't he? You are one of them."

"Oh, right."

You look between them as they laugh at your nervous state, now lessening in their warm presence.

"But I'd rather not have anything" you begin and they turn their faces to argue,"because I already told Hoseok I have some errands to run, and I really do. So I'll be leaving."

"Bummer." Hoseok says and you give him a tight lipped smile.

"Yeah, just ring these up for me." you carry a stack of three in your hands, directing his attention to the previous ones already sprawled out on the floor.

"I will. Hobi you can order the food." Jimin chimes in and you almost jump at the enthusiasm in his tone.

Hoseok just eyes him warily before sludging towards the desk with a groan.

Jimin follows him gladly and you join the train too, walking behind him timidly as he walks with a weird air of happiness. He ends up standing behind the counter and sets the books in front of him as he takes one in hand and scans its code. All this time, you do nothing but stare at him and the pretty bracelet adorning his lithe wrist. It was a customized silver bracelet with the word ‘Mimi’ engraved on it.

“Is Mimi your nickname?” You ask out loud. Your eyes widen as you realize you were prying into a stranger’s life and his eyes widen too at the unexpected question.

“Huh? Uh yes. My mom gave it to me.”

You smile and he flushes embarrassingly.

"I know it's stupid but sh-"

"It's cute."

His mouth goes agape and you beautifully see pink creep up his neck and dusting his cheek. He closes his mouth and opens it again, trying to come up with a response but fails. You yourself were shocked you said it, but it's true. And you might just love watching his flustered state.

"Really, Jimin. I mean it."

"I- Thank You."

A comfortable silence sits around you, even though you want to pierce the silent blanket. He types something on the keyboard and out pops a receipt from the printer, stating your total. The mood around you both is calm and a small, unknown smile plays on your lips, as well as his.

"You're buying The Last Home now? Isn't the next book coming out in like two months?"

Your eyes light up when he mentions your favorite series, already holding the second volume in his hands to pack it.

"Yes. That's why I'm catching up on it again. You see, I lost some of my books back home, so I'm buying this one now. I've read it though. It's just I am so excited for the next book, I couldn't wait to grab this one when I saw it. I love the author so much. She always writes such immacula-" you notice him looking at you with interest, his eyes holding awe and amusement and realize you had been rambling.

"Sorry. I didn't realize I was rambling." you say meekly.

"No no no, continue, please. I want to know how much you like my favorite author." He laughs.

"Wait. Kristine is your favorite too?"

Kristine Rodriguez, the author of one of your most favorite books. She hadn't written many, and wasn't well known but you believed in her more than yourself. Her series, Home was a trilogy and The Only Home was the last one.

"Of fucking course. I think she might be one of the very few authors who writes about socio-political issues in romance books so well. I don't even know how she thinks that."

"Right? So amazing. I especially liked when she sarcastically used it to taunt the system."

"The way Claire is portrayed as a character so relatable I-" your phone goes off as the contact of your neighbor stares back at you. Jimin stops speaking immediately and before you can even pick up the call, it cuts and a notification chimes in.

Lily (11:57 am) : That missed call was on purpose. And a reminder that my parcel will come in v soon.

Lily (11:57 am) : I am so sorry for bothering u Y/N.

Lily (11:58 am) : And thank you babes. I owe you.

"Oh fuck."

"What happened?" Jimin seems concerned and you immediately wave it off.

"Nothing, just. I had to collect this parcel for my neighbor and I completely forgot. I'll have to run now." you say dismissively as you pay and collect the two bags he gives you.

"Thank god. I was scared that something went down."

He was? Why? You both had just met and were practically strangers. Your heart swells but you are way too distracted to dwell on it.

"Oh no, don't worry." and you move to the door.

"Bye, Jimin. And bid Hoseok goodbye on my behalf too."

"Yeah, bye Y/N. See you later." he shouts out just before the door closes behind you.

See. Him. Later?

Yeah you were in deep shit now.

Even though you and Taehyung had agreed to meet tonight, something seemed off. And it bothered you, a lot.

It was already 5:55 pm and you were eagerly waiting to hear from him. Usually, he jumps around a lot whenever there is a plan made but this time, there is dead silence on his side. You tried to reason it with the lack of enthusiasm from your side, but no. That can't be it because he is generally a forgiving person.

You were waiting in your living room, wearing a blue sundress and a creme cardigan. You were not dressed too extravagantly, partially because you didn't know where he was taking you and partially because you wanted to be comfortable.

One thing which you suddenly realize is that a week has passed since your arrival and Taehyung still hasn't mentioned the date you were supposed to pay for.

Odd.

Because it's highly unlikely of him to miss an opportunity to tease you, or annoy you.

All these thoughts go to the drain when your doorbell rings, indicating his presence. You open the door to find him wearing loose black pants and a pink cardigan with puppies on it?

Shirtless?

"Where the fuck are we going Taehyung?"

"The Louvre."

Ah, then the outfit makes sense. Yours, not his.

"You're dressed like a hoe."

"Dress like the ones you aspire to attract." You roll your eyes at his half ass humor.

"And also because I am one." He flashes his boxy grin and you laugh.

"Now that's better. But don't encourage the hoes cause you've got one already." You say as you grab your purse and turn off the lights.

"We are getting late, Y/N. Hurry up."

You furrow your eyebrows a little but nevertheless lock your door and turn to face him, already walking towards the elevator.

"Late for what?" You ask as you follow him quickly.

"The cab is waiting downstairs, nothing much."

"Didn't bring your car?"

"Didn't feel like driving."

He makes a tsk sound and buries his hands in his pockets while staring straight ahead as the doors close. You whirl around on your feet and face the same direction as him, a bit confused at his behavior.

The Louvre.

Many might say it's the place to lose yourself to art, to dive into the intricacies of emotions woven together to form pieces alluring eyes alike. You knew that these statements had to come from some form of truth, but little did you know they were just the half truth.

The place was magnificent, nothing less of the grandeur it had been praised for. The sun filtered softly over the vast area as it neared the horizon steadily and the glass pyramid standing there, in all its glory, shone like the doors to heaven might if they had been graced by the entrance of an angel.

You were walking slowly, beside Taehyung, as your head moved on its own accord, trying to absorb everything around you.

There were people bustling in and out with glee and solemnity. It was after days that the city was seeing an hour with no rain and soft sun, and it seemed like everyone was reveling in it.

"How do you like the 'surprise'?" Taehyung speaks up.

"Not too bad. But you know, I was planning to visit this week anyway so it's not like you took me to someplace unreachable."

"You should learn how to be grateful." he looks at you with disappointment and betrayal.

You laugh at his face and quickly loop your hand through his arm, his palm stuffed into his pocket.

"I'm kidding. I love that you brought me here."

"Hmm. That's better."

Both of you sport a small smile and walk towards the entrance, entranced by the place.

The area was littered with people, art enthusiasts and mere tourists alike. A horde of them gathered in bunches all across the hall, in front of different counters and receptions, leading to different sections of the museum. You looked up and saw the sun seeping in through the glass covering of the pyramid, forming shapes and shadows on the floor, reflecting off the slanted panels of the structure.

"It's so beautiful." you whisper.

"But so crowdy."

You snort.

"Is that even a word, Tae?"

"I don't care. You got what I meant."

"Yeah." You sigh.

It sure was crowded. As soon as you thought that, a group of people blocked your path, led by a man carrying a flag which had something written in German, hard for you to decipher. It was a tourist group, that much was understood.

There were some escalators taking you to the upper storeys, and up ahead two major divisions were made, "Expositions" and "Exhibitions". The roof, which was not a part of the pyramid, had a false ceiling wherein inverted triangles were carved out, with a light fitting at the top vertex.

You both continue into the museum, silently, in awe.

Up until a point, off white, yellowish light washed the whole area. But then, bright white light shines on you and you come in front of an archway, with the sign 'Pavillon de l'Horloge'. A bunch of paintings decorated the entrance, and two stairways went up from either side, both a part of two different archways, which were a bit smaller than the main one.

"Pavillon Sully. The center of the western wing of the Cour Carrée we are in." Taehyung informs you.

"Feels like a dream."

"Which is very much real."

A lovely couple passes by at that exact moment, hand in hand, step in step, heart in heart. At that moment, they looked more refreshing than the art around you, because of the aura of love they exuded. A thought strikes you and you increase the pace of your steps, catching up with Taehyung who had gone a bit ahead.

"Hey."

"Yeah?" He pauses and turns back.

"When are you going on that date? I'd like to know when you will beg me for my money." You wink at him and pull him aside, not stopping the traffic.

You look around and find yourself partially hidden by a statue, placed in the corner of a large hall with a variety of similar structures and paintings. You smile a little at the magnificence of the place and look back at Taehyung.

"About that."

"Hmm?"

"We broke up."

Oh.

What?

He seemed so excited just a week ago.

You look up at him and see that he was unwilling to make eye contact. He was nervous, a trait of his you got to know over time. His face had fallen and the sparkle of his eyes had faded.

You were bad at comforting people, but looking at him seeming so down, and hurt, panged your chest. You bring up a hand and gingerly rub his forearm, lightly, to let him know you were there.

"Yeah. Just a few days ago, actually." he whispers into nothingness, jutting his chin out and looking up at the roof.

"What happened?" you ask slowly, cautiously, retracting your hand to give him space if he would like to retreat from the conversation.

"It's, it's complicated."

His voice is strained and you feel your heart crack at the vulnerability in his voice.

"Tae, you know I am here for you. Whenever you feel like talking to me." You give him an awkward, reassuring smile, not knowing what to say, or what to do.

"Angel, she," he inhales shakily, and exhales, completely broken,"she cheated on me."

The room shifts at his words and suddenly you are standing in the cold Seoul air, on the road in front of your old apartment. The entrance opens and you see yourself walking out with marks of dried tears on your cheeks and a bag full of trash, belongings of him.

A gust of cool air from the overhead Aircon brings you back to earth and your eyes burn to look at the man in front of you, face sullen and fingers twitching nervously at his sides, looking so defeated.

"Tae-"

"I don't really want to talk about it right now, Y/N." he whispers and looks at you with a stoic face, but his eyes plead to you nevertheless.

"It's, it's okay. But I am here for you, Tae. Even though I might not be the best person to talk to-" he laughs a little and you smile,"I can at least listen."

"Yeah, yeah I know. Thank You."

You mindlessly reach for his hand and take his palm in yours, noticing how sweaty it was even in the cold room. You instantly intertwine your fingers with his and squeeze his hand, to reassure him. The gesture brings a smile on his face and your heart calms down, witnessing the slight curve of his lips.

The soft light of the hall illuminates his saddened features. A petal falls off from the cage of roses you had encased your heart in, on seeing his misery and you immediately flick your eyes away from his face, glazing them across your surroundings to stop the withering of your heart due to the rush of memories which was catching on to you.

Taehyung, as if sensing your discomfort, jokes about the headless statue beside you, with wings wide open and shoulders dropped. It was meant to be funny, the way he said that he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of hangovers but all your mind could decipher was 'hangovers'.

Alcohol, and the pang in your chest grew more.

You grace him with a hearty smile, to ease the air which seems to comfort him and he lets out a relieved sigh. You tug at his hand and move yourself away from the secluded corner, back to the museum's grandeur.

"What are your thoughts on this?"

You and Taehyung had wandered off into an area with a horde of paintings lined on the wall, and a number of admirers just staring at them with admiration, taking photos, or laughing at some of the weird interpretations.

"This one?" You ask him as you point towards the painting diagonally to you.

It depicted two young men deep in conversation, leaned towards one another, in the countryside playing instruments. With them were two naked women, one of them sitting on the grass beside them, turned away from the viewer and the other serving water from a marble basin, in the viewer's straight sight. In the backdrop, lush meadows and a waterfall stream can be seen.

The Pastoral Concert.

"It looks like painted poetry. I mean, the men seem unfazed by the close proximity of the nude women, indulging in the music and their talks. The background adds to the effect, given it shows the lush environment so beautifully that one might get distracted by it."

"Like, pastoral poetry, singing about the beauty of the natural world. And the lute in the picture might refer to the shepherds and their famous way of poetry." Taehyung continues and you look at your hands still intertwined.

"But with a tinge of melancholy." You finish for him.

"Where's the sadness?"

"In the picture? I can't find it. But I assume the women are sad? As the men are not paying attention to them. Or the men are so ridden with misery that they are not able to look at the beauty around them? Maybe the women are nymphs from one of the caves we can see behind, who knows? But I feel there's something in the piece which does not allude to happiness." you speak while staring at the painting, a frown etched on your face.

"Because of course, when there is beauty, we always tend to ignore the pain." Taehyung says softly and you look up at him with wide eyes.

"That's true." You whisper when you realize he had been referring to the past, of you both, his more immediate than yours.

He squeezes your hand and you both laugh again. At this point you lost count of the number of times you both laugh just to ease the atmosphere.

Your head whirls around the room to take in new things when a head catches your attention and your eyes lock in place.

Did he literally mean 'See you later'? Because no way were you looking at Jimin, a few steps away from you, staring back at you with wide eyes. The scene was similar to the one you were in just that morning.

He was donning an off white button down with an indecent amount of buttons left open, letting you a peek of his chest and midriff. You almost groan internally on seeing the golden skin shine in the light. His blonde hair was still frayed over his forehead, but they seemed a little permed. A singular earring dangled from his left ear, making its way to his jawline and hitting the sharp structure with elegance. His jeans were black, fitted perfectly around his legs, accentuating his thighs deliciously.

Why was he dressed like this? It was a goddamn museum.

He looked like a siren, with his crescent eyes and full lips, inviting one and all. The call was alluring, and you willed your legs to not move.

Even though he was attracting all eyes, his were caught in headlights. They flicked once between you and Taehyung and you might have seen something similar to a shock flash through them. Before you can even dwell on it, or give him a smile as a greeting, Taehyung's voice cuts through the haze.

"You look like shit."

"Excuse me? I look amazing." you quip back without second thought, whipping your head to seethe at his face, noticing he had turned a little.

"Debatable."

"Then proceed?"

He turns a little and discreetly points a thumb in Jimin's direction.

"In front of that," and then points towards your outfit,"this is shit."

You stumble for words as you realize what he was trying to imply.

"I am not trying to get his attention or something. I know him already."

"Really? Cause you look like you'd jump his bones any chance you get."

"Shut up Taehyung." you slap his arm, pulling your hand away from him, and turn to look at Jimin, only to see that he was nowhere to be found.

Your head frantically whips around the room, trying to locate a mess of blonde hair and–

"Wow, he's got some good cake there."

Taehyung was staring straight at Jimin's ass, who was now in the opposite direction to the one you first saw him in, retreating towards the corner with someone by his side, someone you recognise.

"Now you look like you'll jump his bones." you snidely say and wink at him.

Taehyung just laughs and waves off your comment, mumbling something like 'I might, okay'.

You wonder why Jimin had gone away after explicitly seeing you, even making eye contact with you. Your eyebrows furrow a little as you look in his direction, to see him staring at a painting softly, looking so angelic and at peace. Hoseok takes some pictures by his side, of the paintings or of Jimin's, who knows?

You had wanted to go ahead and greet him, but seeing that he purposefully dodged you and your sight, you were hesitant to go forward.

Regardless, when you are with Taehyung, you're hardly able to think as he pulls you towards them.

"Is he a friend of Hoseok's?" he asks you, excitedly.

"You know him?"

"Uh huh. Through a friend."

You let out an 'ooh' and begrudgingly follow him till the end of the room.

The soft padding of footsteps makes both the men turn towards you, and you fist your hands to not get nervous on something so trivial. Why were you getting anxious over meeting the same people you spent your whole morning with?

The men in front of you stand still, several emotions flashing through their face before they settle on one, amused. Hoseok smiles big enough to challenge the lights in the room and Jimin's eyebrows raise up as a soft, lopsided smile plays on his lips.

"Hey, Taehyung." Hoseok exclaims loudly, enough so that a few heads turn in your direction, and engulfs Taehyung in a bear hug.

"When did you come back to the city?" Taehyung asks him and Hoseok groans.

"A few months ago. And to be honest, I'd like to return rather than having to work under him." he points at Jimin.

"You can resign whenever you want. I can use the extra money that I waste as your salary." Jimin grumbles at him and Hoseok scoffs playfully.

"As if the shop would survive even a day without me. Ha."

"Did well for the last whole year."

"Yeah but now you've got lazy as fuck and–"

"Guys." You interrupt their rising bickering and they both look at you like kids, who were caught while fighting over whose toys are the best.

"Hi." you idiotically wave at them and the smile is back on both of them, Jimin's rather shy and ashamed.

"Hey Y/N. Didn't see you there. You and Taehyung know each other?" Hoseok exclaims, yet again.

"Yeah, yeah we do." Taehyung answers for you, in the softest way possible.

"Oh that's great. You two–"

"By the way, I'm Jimin. Hoseok's friend or you could say, temporary boss." Jimin cuts Hoseok off with a laugh and extends his hand towards Taehyung.

Taehyung happily clasps his rather small hand in his big ones and politely shakes them,introducing himself and looking up at him with awe in his eyes. Seems like whoever meets Jimin are immediately pulled towards him, like a moth drawn to a flame.

He looks at you and you nod your head at him, him returning the gesture politely and waving a little. Taehyung sees this and starts wringing his hands together, and you already know he is planning some trouble.

"You look amazing, man. Y/N was–"

"Was saying that I know you guys and he was curious as to how." you finish for him instead, with a sickly sweet smile.

Both of them don't seem to notice the slip up Taehyung almost caused and you mentally sigh, nudging the man beside you with your elbow and a grumbled curse. He just laughs and throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in.

Jimin flicks his eyes between you both once more, before settling on Hoseok's face with a pleasant expression.

"She moved in recently, a few blocks away from the bookstore. Came in today to buy some books and that's how we know each other." Hoseok answers Taehyung.

"The bookstore as in the one Jimin owns, and I work at – Mimi's Dream." he continues and points at Jimin with both hands.

"The name sounds familiar." Taehyung wonders and looks up at the ceiling.

"If you have been around the area then you might have heard it."

"Maybe." He looks at you and you just shake your head, praying he doesn't remember the phone call you had the first day you came there. You can't trust Taehyung to know what to say, and especially when he has the golden ticket to embarass you.

You can feel Jimin staring at your profile but you don't dare look back at him, to avoid melting to the floor under the heat of his gaze. He was like an enigma, speaking chosen words, impacting you the same with each of them. You knew his gaze was soft, not intimidating as of yet. But you didn't want to feel the cloudy, sugary feeling that came with it, with the hint of spice as the allure rolled off him in waves.

"You guys should join us this weekend." Hoseok chirps in suddenly, breaking your chain of thoughts.

"Where?"

"One of our friends has his photography exhibition on Saturday, and we are meant to bring a plus one." Jimin explains.

"Yeah, Jungkook's had many of them and let me tell you, that guy has talent. I think you both will enjoy it." Hoseok excitedly adds.

"Is this the same Jungkook I know? Your college mate?" Taehyung enquires and he confirms his suspicion with a loud exclamation.

"Ooh yeah that kid has potential. What do you say Y/N?" He looks at you and you reply without second thought.

"I don't have anything better to do on Saturday," given that Taehyung's date has been cancelled now. But you don't add that piece of information."So yeah, this does sound exciting."

Everyone lights up brighter than the sun, and you can visibly see Jimin almost jumping on his toes. Faint traces of color grace his face and a wide smile becomes the cherry on top.

"Great. You can be my date." He suddenly directs the statement towards you, eyes immediately going wide as he realizes he said that out loud. "I mean, you know, we are meant to bring a plus one, so you both will have to accompany us individually, yeah? Only if it's okay." He adds quickly, with sprinkles of embarrassment.

Wow.

All night, he seemed to be inviting you in wordlessly, by unknowing stares and mindless words. But at this moment, the invite was explicit, stated clearly. And who were you to deny such amazing company?

"Sure. We can go together." you say, rather breathlessly, convincing yourself that you were not back to your school years, when your crush had asked you out for the prom.

Jimin smiles at you, the same way he had when you had praised his bracelet, and the petal which had fallen from the rose cage of your heart, grows back.

"Perfect. Taehyung, I am sure we are going to outdo all these pairs over there." Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows at Taehyung who laughs heartily.

"Damn right we are going to, my man." They both do an extravagant handshake and bump their chests together.

"I hope you guys know we are going to an exhibition and not a match." Jimin smiles at them with a sarcastic voice, laced with an innocent smile.

"Hello? We are very passionate okay?"

You laugh at Taehyung's comment and pull him back from Hoseok, with a hand on his cardigan.

"Well, isn't that just what we wanted to hear." you grimace and he straightens up with a wide ass grin which you wish to wipe off for no reason.

The Louvre, a place for minds and passions alike, seems to dissolve into nothing around you as you take in the man in front of you, as realization dawns upon you.

You were going to be his date.

He had asked you to be his date.

And now he was looking at you with a gleam in his eyes and a shine in his smile and a vile in his style and you think you should stop thinking.

"So, we will meet on Saturday?" Jimin's airy voice redirects you to the conversation you had completely missed and you nod at the question, seemingly answering it so you don't have to let your shaky voice come out of your mouth.

"Wait, what's the dress code?" Taehyung asks the real questions.

"Dressy Casual."

"You mean, dress casually?"

"No I mean exactly that – Dressy Casual."

"Wow."

Indeed. You'll have to rake your whole closet to come up with a worthy outfit.This night is going to be a hell of a night, you think.

Indeed, one to look forward to.

prev | m.list | next

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[jmluvclub]

the performance [pjm] teaser

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synopsis | your objectively globally known boyfriend and his band are nominated for the grammy’s again, but aren’t able to win. robbed for the third year in the row, the boys are left disappointed and angry, especially park jimin

notes | lower case intended ^^ hi guys soooo; i was actually inspired by an nsfw vid on twit for this piece ;-; LMAO. i’ll link the vid below, but typically nsfw posts on twitter get reported or taken down- so i can’t guarantee the link will work T_T i don’t know how much i’ll end up updating my profile because of college apps and semesters finals.. but i’ll try my hardest lol

! tag list; open ] cmt to be added ^^

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*flashback*

"baby you look great, yeah?" you said softly from behind jimin as you clung onto his left shoulder. he was facing the mirror, adjusting his collar and grooming his slicked back hair. dressed in black slacks and a matching satin dress shirt, he looked good as fuck. the urge to fuck him right then and there was so real, but you promised to keep your hands to yourselves.

the two of you were staying in your own hotel room for the weekend, leaving the rest of the band down the hallway. the group had made up their mind that they were going to be awarded for sure. they had held the top charts for months, sales included.

although the numbers looked positively promising, jimin knew their luck. this was nothing new to him, he knew the schedule. the band would be nominated, as always: by numbers or fans. no matter the chart difference, they were always second to the western artists.

yea, it was a grueling process to even get on the charts- they should be grateful for that. but when you’re robbed of your dreams for years in a row, your anger begins to surge.

jimin had kept his suspicion unbeknownst to his brothers, not wanting to ruin their unspoken hopes. you on the other hand, could sense his anxiety through his shoulders. as you clung onto him, the knots weighing him down only made your anticipations worsen.

you wanted the group to win, obviously. they were talented multi billionaires and deserved all the love and appreciation they could get. but you could sense this year would be yet another drag, which made you sick. you hated seeing the band left disappointed, specifically jimin. he always found something about himself to pick on, and you knew this would be one of his worst.

"sit with me.. please?” you suggested, patting the cushion beside you.

the hotel room was a single, containing a bathroom and a king sized bed ;). there was a body length sized mirror facing the couch, where you resided.

jimin gave one last look at himself before turning around and giving you a shy smile, slowly walking over before collapsing beside you. his legs barely reached the end of the couch where his feet dangled nervously in chelsea boots (obviously). he tried his best to keep his head off your lap, not wanting to ruin the freshly done style, but ultimately failed when you started to rub his neck softly.

“mm that feels good” jimin hummed in response, slowly closing his eyes. you smiled at the sight, seeing himself in a state of solitude for the time being.

you tried your best to soothe his senses, wanting to keep this subtle state for as long as possible. knowing all his sweet spots, you continued working into his tendons before his assistant knocked at the door.

his head lifted up, checking his wrist- resulting in a sigh. with his back to you, his left hand reached for your closest thigh and gently rubbed the material. your hand found his, giving it a few squeezes before you reached forward and gave him a small embrace.

“i’ll see you soon love” you whispered as you planted kisses on the back of his neck. “no matter what happens, i’ll be here waiting for you.”

jimin turned around to face you with an expression you couldn’t read as he nodded. slowly standing up to adjust his pants and collar, he turned for the door.

“i love you y/n.”

“love you too.”

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ok slay hi LMFAO this is just a teaser obvi. i feel like i gotta put this out there and possibly get some feedback before i continue writing idkkk i have so many ideas >.> if u cant tell, i’m new to tumblr !! i would appreciate any tips/recs on anything tbh, so lmk how this is for uu

! tag list; open ]

[jwirecs]

Hi! This is less of a “do you know this fic” ask and more of a “can you help me find it” question. I remember reading a while ago this series called “the alpha” and it was a park jimin fic. It was a few parts long and it was about how reader was some sort of pack royalty and whoever she was fated to was gonna be the pack alpha and it ended up being jimin. then namjoon challenged him and it caused a fight but jimin won. i don’t think the series was finished at the time i read it. i can’t find it on here anymore and i was wondering if you or anyone else could tell me if it even exists still. Thank you!

helloo!

so sorry for the late reply! is it possibly this fic? "The Alpha" by @ladyartemesia

i hope it is because it sounds like it!

[lokisasylum]

So if Jimin were a werewolf and sat down to howl at the moon...do you think his beak would stand out?

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: December 2023

HAPPY NEW YEARS!! 🥳 May every single one of you lovely people out there have the best and brightest year to come ✨

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | 💜 (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, personal favorites = 💯.

Namjoon

⭐Good Neighbor @sugaurora [0.7K] // knj x f.reader // neighbors!au, winter!au // 🥰🥰🥰

📝 Namjoon’s solitary tendencies versus the cookies. Spoiler: The cookies win.

🗨️ God, this was so fucking sweet 🥹 like sugary sweet fluffy fantastic! I loved it 💖 the way Namjoon just observes oc, and then helping her in the end 👏🏾 even though this is short, it’s fucking brilliant. The writing is just 😘😘 like I wished there was so much more, but I’m also so pleased with just what is 😌

⭐A Word from our Sponsors 💯 @ugh-yoongi [17.5K] // knj x f.reader // podcast!au, f2l, idiots to lovers  // 😂🥵🥰

📝 You’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it. 

🗨️ Okay. This. Was. Exceptional ✨🥹 I am slightly speechless, so this review might be short or long or just a rambling of my dainty thoughts. Here goes: it was amazing, seriously one of the best fics I’ve ever read 😭 everything just had that perfect flow, the writing was incredible, like I can’t even speak? The characters, out of this world fantastic ✨ the whole thing, just, perfect. Perfection. I don’t know what else to call it, sorry. The world building and tension was so fucking delicious I just ate it up! 😭 And their banter and chemistry was just off the charts amazing. Perfection. And it was so fucking hilarious too!! Many times I was just laughing or chuckling, like the lovesick fool I am 😂 it was definitely worth it to stay up late tonight to finish this masterpiece ✨ And them reading the fanfiction 💀 😂 priceless ✨👏🏾

Seokjin

⭐The IKEA Test by @yoon-bug [9.1K] // ksj x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰😂

📝 One review on IKEA’s website called the BRIMNES bed frame the leading cause of divorce due to its difficult assembly. You and Seokjin had laughed when you read it. Now, you weren’t so sure.

🗨️ Their banter and all the sexual innuendos are damn hilarious! I thoroughly enjoyed this very much 💜 

⭐I Don’t Think I’m Okay by @ressjeon [4K] // ksj x f.reader // slice of life, idiots to lovers!au, childhood friends!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 With many chances wasted, you couldn’t even resist anymore.

🗨️ A cute little Seokjin fic 🥰

⭐Turn Back Time 💯 by @raplinesmoon [13.3K] // ksj x f.reader // time travel!au // 🥵🥰🌩️😂

📝 After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

🗨️ Seokjin’s childhood/school was just, ugh, I really felt heartache for thirteen year old Seokjin 🥹 So very common as a kid, to wish you’re older – and then it’s just not what he expected at all. I really loved it! There were a few times I was laughing so damn hard, times where I was shedding a few tears as well. Just, incredibly good; very well written, the story was captivating and motivating, just yeah, brilliant. (Sorry, I’m suddenly bad with words). I loved the ‘lessons’ he learned, and then having the luxury (I’m using that word because we don’t have that irl) of going back to his childhood (almost like starting over) and damn it was good 👏💯

Yoongi

⭐Sinful Lust [series; ongoing] 💯 by @oddinary4bts [wordcount loading…] // myg x jjk x f.reader // established relationship, bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi, slice of life // 🥵🌩️

📝In an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating…

🗨️  Holy 😱 😱 😱 this is just completely unadulterated sin 🥵🫣 I can not describe how much I love this fic! It has A LOT of angst and at times it’s just sad reading how each character falls apart 😭 it’s amazing! If you’re into stories that will have you question your own morals and who to root for, this is for you 💖

⭐In Between the Pages of You [series; ongoing] @unique-high [wordcount loading…] // myg x f.reader // s2l // 🥰😂🌩️

📝 Yoongi fell in love with you. A girl he had never even met before. Knew everything that you were made up of within 96 pages of a worn red journal with a nirvana sticker on front, with coffee and tea-stained pages that also smelled of lilacs and summer. 

🗨️ I can already tell that this story will be amazing; it’s so sweet, cute and tender. The storyline/idea is really cute and fluffy, like who wouldn’t love that?? 😭 And as someone who wrote countless journals as a teen, this one just hits differently. It’s so cute and the concept is gold 💜 I really, really look forward to reading the next chapters and what Yoongi will uncover of OC through her journal. And if he can return it to her sometime and they meet! 🥹

⭐F*ck Christmas 💯 @sailoryooons [23.4K] // myg x f.reader // f2l // 🥰🥵

📝 Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog. 

🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this sometime last year and it was perfection - it still is! ✨ It’s so so so fucking good. If you haven’t read it, please do so 🥹 it’s also one of the best Christmasy fics 💜

Hoseok

⭐Ho Ho Horrible 💯 @ugh-yoongi [5.6K] // jhs x f.reader // e2l, neighbor!au, holiday!au // 🥵🥰😂

📝 (or, the one where your neighbor is a relentless christmas caroler and refuses to take a hint, but at least he's really hot.)

🗨️ No– this was just so freaking cute! 😭 Like fluffy cute and also extremely funny, just what I love. I loved this so much 💜 OC’s friendship with Tae, their banter was 💯 and then with Hobi, just so so good! It was so cute and OC’s internal dialogue is just funny 😂A really cute holiday themed Hoseok fic that I can’t recommend enough!!!! Everything was just great. Had me smiling and giggling a few times – please go read it 🥹💜

⭐Started with a Sparkle, now we’re on Fire @the-boy-meets-evil [6.5K] // jhs x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 You're feeling self conscious about your recent break-up and hoseok is more than happy to teach you a thing or two.

🗨️ Really really good! I really liked it 💜 I really loved how both sweet and demanding Hoseok was, guiding oc through everything.

Jimin

⭐Couchsurfer 💯 @heartbeatan [6K] // pjm x f.reader // s2l // 🥵🥰

📝 This was left intentionally blank 🫥

🗨️ Omg this was so fucking good! 💯 First, really well written and the pacing was lovely, even though it’s short and one night they spend together 🥹 the build up of their tension and their chemistry was off the charts! So impeccably done! Fuck. I loved it ✨ it’s insane how good this story is and Jimin is just so sweet, romantic and nasty 🥵 I can’t tell you how turned on I got by the description of how Jimin handled OC, like damn 🥵 this is so fucking good, please don’t sleep on the this beauty 💖 Normally, I’m not one for one night stands, because I catch feelings for the characters, but this has a lovely ending that I loved - so fucking good!

Lol. Can not stop screaming about this one. Please go read it, fuck. PLEASE 😌 ✨

⭐Paper Hearts @namfinessed [9K] // pjm x f.reader // f2l, college!au // 🥰

📝 hearts fragile like paper, tear it or don’t?

🗨️ I think it is both cute and heartwarming, with their foolishness and stubbornness towards each other. I loved how the fic becomes full circle with the description of love by both Jimin and reader and then again at the end - really, really beautiful! 😍 I really loved this, it was well written, their friendship and love really shined through too! If you haven’t read this one yet, you really should 💜

Taehyung

⭐The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles [series] by @gimmethatagustd [14K] // kth x f.reader // frenemies to lovers // 🥵

📝 You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s hipster, wannabe-photographer ass. You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid way of getting under your skin and sticking in your brain.

🗨️ At first I did not realize that this was a series, therefore I’ve linked to the masterlist, lol. Anyway, this series is just so fucking hot, like WHAT 🥵 There’s a lot of banter and their mutual ‘hatred’ for each other just makes this hit incredible hard. Really amazing ✨

⭐Loverboy 💯 by @kookslastbutton [7.1K] // kth x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

🗨️ These coworkers gotta go, okay?! 😠🤣 Planting seeds of doubt in OC’s head, no, no. Tae to the rescue!! He is so sweet in this too, yes a real ‘loverboy’ 😍 Gosh and then best friend Jimin - that was just pure gold, their relationship and how he helps OC 🥹 That is friendship goals!! A sweet, loving and comforting Taehyung fic - I loved it ✨

⭐Hush, yeah? [series; ongoing/hiatus] by @kithtaehyung [wordcount loading…] // kth x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, music festival!au // 🥵

📝 Who knew an innocent accident could turn things so dirty..

🗨️ Pure gold ✨ — I don’t really have much to say, except GO READ IT.

⭐Under wraps by @jungkxook [15K] // kth x f.reader // e2l, fake dating // 🥵🥰

📝 There’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

🗨️ I just love me some good enemies to lovers AU 🥵 the relationship between OC and tae is really good, I think the tension between them was well built 👏🏾 I loved how their relationship unfolded and grew through their fake dating 🥹 the way OC realized she had feelings for him, but he had showed her before in his subtle moves, how much more he relaxed in her presence. I loved the interaction between oc and tae’s parents too, the way that they could obviously tell that OC was head over heels 😂 ah just, It was really really good! It was funny, it was comforting, and such a lovely read around Christmas! And the smut was sweet and tender (also hot!) 😍 a really great fic that I’ll add to my Christmas re-reads for years to come ✨ I loved it! Please go read it if you haven’t already 🥹

⭐Somebody Else 💯 by @jamaisjoons [4.2K] // kth x f.reader ft. yoongi // established relationship + post break up!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 Yoongi doesn’t want you anymore. but he can’t stand watching you with someone else. 

🗨️ Holy s– 🥵 I don’t even know where to begin with this one! It’s really good and the that is mainly from Yoongi’s pov makes it truly special – he is observing them and damn is it hot 🥵 Aish, really good 💯

Jungkook

Nothing this month 😞 — I AM SO SORRY that I haven’t read any with JK this month (though he is featuring in some with the other members). My JK ‘to read’ list is the LONGEST imao 😂 I’ll hopefully do better next month – but you can always check my Jungkook Library 💜

I have spend most of December being on holiday/time off, which gave me a lot of time to write my own stuff, which in the end gave me less time to read 😣 But it’s all good! I loved getting some stories and thoughts out of my head and now there’s space to read and obsess over other’s stories again 😀

Borahae 💜

[yoonmins-girl]

I need help finding a jimin fanfic !! All I remember is that the reader and jimin were exes and she was helping plan her friends wedding that was on a cruise and jimin pretends to be her bf at one point and they end up sharing a room. He also finds the necklace he gave her while they were together and he tells her to get rid of it while he’s about to go out with another girl and comes back to tell her that they can try and again and they end up together. Can someone please help me find it i’ve been looking for it and I can’t remember the title !!

[eoieopda]

Can I request Jimin and the backwards relationship trope? Idk if that makes as much sense in words as it does in my head. Fuck buddies —> friends —> lovers kind of thing? Happy Drabblepalooza, Milestone, and five month Tumblrversary, lovely! You’re a gem 💎

tysm bb! i love this prompt 🥹

the one with the clownfish and the anemone

pairing: park jimin x gn!reader type: drabble (suggestive fluff) | wc: 863 rating: 18+ (minors dni) au: fuck buddies to friends to lovers cw: no explicit detail re: smut but it’s mentioned that they do, in fact, fuck; implied cumshot, lol; alcohol mention. summary: jimin entered your life by chance, but he stayed by choice. ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

It started, as most things do, with soju. Too much soju, to be specific. 

As if there’s any other kind.

You were bold, but Park Jimin was bolder. He saw you at the bar, gave neither a shit nor a fuck that you were out with your friends, and sidled right up to you as if he belonged there. You balked at his audacity, but it worked. He slipped seamlessly into your life that night. 

And then, when you and your friends parted ways, he slipped his hand into yours. Slipped into your bed, into you, then back out the door like some thief in the night. So it goes, you thought. You went through the motions of your nighttime skincare routine, and went soundly to sleep in a post-soju, post-sex haze.

A few weeks passed by before you saw him again, entirely by chance. As it turned out, the gym you frequented — well, maybe not that frequently — sat centrally between your apartment and his. Neighbors, he mused. No neighbor you’d ever had fucked you like he did, pressing your back to a perforated metal door in a locker room, smelling like salted sweat and orange, sugar-free Gatorade.

“You’re an idiot,” you told him, dead serious. “Blue is the best flavor, hands down.”

He laughed so hard his eyes disappeared. “You’re an idiot. Blue is not a flavor.”

When you went your separate ways that night, he left with your phone number. He claimed it was in case of emergencies, shot you a wink, and disappeared again. Just like the last time, you went back to normal, albeit with the grooves of a locker door imprinted into your back.

It took him three days to text you, and it wasn’t an emergency. Not to you, anyway. To him, it might’ve been; he was trapped, bored, at some friend’s bachelor party and needed an out. Needed you, he said, can I come over? So, he did — all over your tits while you were still gasping for air underneath him.

Life continued like that for months: inconsequentially. You came, he left, and the two of you left it like that. It was nice, having someone to pinch hit whenever a date didn’t pan out, or work was especially stressful. Or it was a Tuesday, or it was raining, or just because.

“It’s symbiotic,” you explained, and he nodded.

With a nonchalant wave of his hand, he offered, “Like a clownfish and an anemone.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did every time. The person fucking your brains out on a semi-regular basis had brains of his own; and he was funny. He was thoughtful, too, which was something else you failed to account for.

The first time he showed up unannounced on your doorstep, he had a takeaway container in his hand. You were unwashed and entirely unprepared for visitors; and Jimin didn’t seem to notice — if he did, he kept it secret — that you were as much of a mess as your apartment. He simply stepped inside, handed you hotteok from the street cart you wouldn’t shut up about, and then he stayed.

You kept to your respective seats — him on the couch, you sitting cross-legged on the floor by his shins — and neither of you sought to change that fact. It was the latest you’d stayed up since college, and it was the hardest you’d ever laughed. The pair of you got through three movies, back to back, before he left to sleep in his own bed. The squeeze he gave your hand on his way out the door felt more intimate than anything else you’d ever done together.

So slowly that you couldn’t track the motion, Jimin slid into your daylight hours as if he belonged there. You took turns dropping coffee off to the other at your respective offices. You grabbed salads after your joint excursions to the gym as a way of apologizing to your bodies for what you'd just done to them. You called him to complain about your parents; he texted you every morning with your daily horoscope.

And throughout the months you spent like this, soaking into your routine, you didn’t realize that fucking was no longer part of it. It hadn’t been, not since you sat and ate hotteok on your living room floor. Fucking was casual, and this meant far more than that.

Whenever you found yourself in his lap now, it was because you loved to take up more than your fair share of the couch, and his thighs made the perfect pillow. He was comfortable. You were comfortable with him. So much so that your position, combined with the way he played idly with your hair, put you most of the way to sleep.

He must’ve thought you were all the way gone because he whispered, “I love you,” like he was sharing a secret.

It was mumbled through barely-opened lips when you replied, “I know,” just before taking his hand from your hair and brushing a kiss across his knuckles.

Though you didn’t say it out loud, you know he heard it, that he felt it, because — for the first time — he stayed the night.

[yoongsisbae]

Stories by Member

JJK

Not a Creature was Stirring You wake up Christmas Eve night not to find Santa, but to find a man cold and shivering on your front porch. Clothes tattered, cuts on his body, out in the snow. You find out he’s not as helpless as he appears. Kind of cute, kind of scary, very buff Jungkook Fantasy AU. Spring Day Still with You [Sequel to Not a Creature was Stirring] You ran away from the cold, Jungkook ran with you, warming each other’s hearts. But within the cycle of life, there is death, and as spring blooms, the blood still lays soaked in the dirt. You ran and they chased. Hybrid!Jungkook.

Banana Milk It’s Jungkook’s Birthday, will he get his birthday wish?

The Fantasy You and your boyfriend try out a new form of role play, but it just keeps going wrong…

I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late?

Ddak-ji SLAP Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-

Campfire Burning A steamy fic inspired by a certain vlive.

Seven Days a Week Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week. idol!jungkook x noona!reader

Go Home, You're Drunk! - 75% “Who…are…you…” “Your worst nightmare, sweetheart.” “Really? Because you look like you belong in a boyband.” whacky and dark & for all the girlies who love an unhinged yandere character

The Snap - 70% The only surviving member of BTS, it takes Jungkook five years to find happiness again. And then life snapped back. What is Jungkook going to do now?

KTH

Christmas with a Vampire There once was a time when holidays were warm and special, Taehyung remembers. To you, even in his coldness, Taehyung is all you need for Christmas. Cyber-punk futuristic AU with a self-hating vampire Tae.

BTS Song Fic (Blue and Grey) Sad song. Sad story. Sad author. Happy reader?

V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90% What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you. Superclumsysuperhero!RMverse AU.

PJM

Christmas Mass Every Sunday, like clockwork, as designed and ordained, you sit quietly. Pray. Christmas mass comes, tonight your congregation dresses beautifully, like ornaments placed in a row right in front of God. Your priest, stands at the head like an angel atop the tree, commanding and pious and hauntingly handsome. Red. You’re a good faithful girl. You were taught to be, punished to be. You pray for respite, for something more than the condemnation this cold and icy town bestows upon you. Sinners. The coldness permeates your bones, you’re always scared. Tainted. Terrified of sin, terrified by your thoughts for your priest. Sacrilegious. This Christmas prayers are answered by no God. Demon AU. Dark smut.

You Asked for Help, He Asked Your Name You ran away from your responsibilities, but they caught you and tried to lay claim to your body. If your life was never going to be yours anyways, you decided might as well give it away and make a deal. fairyprince!Jimin

KNJ

Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, RM Best friends 2 Lovers. Idiots 2 Lovers. Lovers 2 Enemies? This is a different kind of superhero story ;) Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe. Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there. V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90% What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil, or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you.

I Appreciate Your Apology A Christmas party has you on thin ice with your favorite dom. Daddy Joon appreciates your apology, but does he accept it? daddydom!Joon smut, PWP, filth, aka Joon edging you until you see sleighbells.

Cold Feet You don’t want to get married anymore, what does Namjoon want? 

JHS

Day Dream The days are hotter, the nights are hotter too. You sleep, restless. Tired, you sleep more, you sleep and you dream and you meet the dream walker and things somehow become even steamier. Sandman!Hoseok Dream Analysis / Alternate Ending 

Disco Winter Ball You and your friend Hoseok are best friend buddies going on a date to the annual disco winter ball. But it’s not a date date, okay? You and Hoseok just love music and you love dancing and Hoseok loves watching you dance. Wait not love, not in that way! A friendly love. Just friends. Just two friends who drink a little too much eggnog. HOAL couple holiday special

I Thought You Were Mine? Drunk arguing leads to drunk fuc–

MYG

The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder Fearful, they buried them, stomped them into the dirt. Underneath their boot, scared men were unaware the seeds of hope had planted by their own volition. From the dirt and grime, grew flowers, blooms so tall, eclipsing their hatred. You were strong and unwilling to be cut down any more. Shapeshiftercat!yoongi.

Yoongi is a Rock That’s it. That’s the plot. Yoongi is a rock. Audio Ver. by the talented @voice-over-ff

I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late? 

Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe.

King of Corruption [Sequel to Christmas Mass] The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you. Demon AU. Dark smut.

KSJ

The Flower Bridge You couldn’t, you didn’t want to, not anymore, the pain was too much, you wanted it to end, so you visited the bridge. Standing at the highest point, the wind stung, but your problems were bigger, your pain was stronger than the whipping air and your anguish deeper than the water below. Tethered in the center, connecting the place you came from and the place you were going, you found another type of bridge and he found you. Ghost!Seokjin.

Meet Cute, Time Loop A story where Seokjin loves you before you love him before he loves you.

Ddak-ji SLAP Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-

Seokjin’s Ho Ho Ho Your boyfriend surprises you with a Christmas dinner on the beach, things get a little steamy, candy canes get sucked, peppermint liquor might be involved, there is definitely some questionable Santa Costume attire, and lots of jolly lovin’! HOAL couple holiday special.

Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there.

Gangnam Girlfriend: Korea’s #1 Celebrity Dating Show with your Host, International Super Star, Jin Welcome to Gangnam Girlfriend! Where Korea’s top eligible singles fight for a chance at love! You're supposed to be playing the dating game right? Not sneaking off in the middle of the night with the show’s host to watch the stars and talk about all your lost love connections, cuddling under a blanket. And even if the choice is clear, Kim Seokjin can't date you, the reason you joined is because you wanted a public relationship, and Jin could neverrr. Even though he wants to finally settle down! But Hybe wouldn't let him join as a contestant so he took the next best thing instead, our story's beloved host, yet now he's regretting his decision as he watches the girl he is starting to fall for fall for someone else, oh no! Meet the Cast / Epi1 - 85%

OT7

SERIES

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea [Fantasy AU] A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters. Member Imagines /Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 /  Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 - 5% / ?

Handshakes of a Lifetime [Soulmate AU] …the meeting room is getting closer and closer, basking you and those around you in warm light, and you think about all the internet comments people write about this kind of moment, “she must have saved a country in her past life to experience this.” Playlist / Ch1 / Drabble - JJK / Ch2 / Ch3 / X-mas - JHS / Ch4 / X-mas - KSJ / Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 / Ch8 / Ch9 / Ch10 - 10% / ?

Caught! House of Cards [Yandere AU] You needed money. The pandemic offered little options. So you joined a website to make some quick and easy cash. Men paying to look at you, harmless fun, right? It was a decision you didn’t think too much about, you just wanted an income again. Little did you know how dangerous the members of House of Cards were. You weren’t prepared for the consequences of your actions. Watch out! Houses built with cards come tumbling down… Profiles / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 / Xmas Drabble - KTH / Ch5 - 90% / ?

Run Run Run [Zombie Apocalypse AU Slow Burn] A zombie apocalypse breaks out and you’re stuck on a plane with none other than…BTS! Oh, you thought because you were an Army that would help you survive? Girl think again. Member Poll / Seoul Flow / Yangyang Living / Seoul Town Road / Hwarang Freestyle / Seoul Close / Samsung State of Mind - 5% / The Big Hit Break In! - TBA / ?

T H E T A K E O V E R [BTS Apocalypse / Dystopian AU Thriller] The recruits of Bangtan Academy were trained to be super soldiers, to be the strongest, fastest, most cunning fighters in the world. Now they are being put to the test! You were at the bottom of your class, but you noticed the cracks in the system first, what are you going to do? Run or try to save the world Prequel / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 - 78% / ?

DRABBLES

BTS (as kisses) / BTS (as holidays) / BTS (as drinks)

BTS Cheering You Up While Studying Korean

MASTERLISTS

Naughty Girl Christmas BTS X-MAS Masterlist

Spring Fling Fantasy Stories that Bloom Masterlist

BTS Supers RM Verse Masterlist (coming soon…)

Original Masterlist

[swanlakebaby]

— rainy night | pjm

prompt: rainy night with jimin.

⸝⸝ pairing: softbf!jimin x fem!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: fluff, soft bf jimin, rain, cuddling, soft kisses, good VIBES!

⸝⸝ word count: 606

⸝⸝ note: a quick scenario i wanted to write out since it popped into my mind today! lol i hope u enjoyed :)

-

jimin walks into the bedroom after arriving home from work , walking in and seeing you wrapped under the blankets in a calm sleep. he smiles at the sight and takes off his jacket , tossing it into the hamper. he undoes his belt and hangs it up. he decides that he’ll just shower after dinner and changes into something simple and comfortable for the time being.

being as quiet as possible , he slips out of the bedroom and heads to the living room , letting you finish your nap.

an hour or two later , you stretch and rub your eyes as you slowly wake up. you check the time and see that it’s past seven , meaning that jimin should be home now. you glance over and see his work belt dangling from one of the hooks on the wall and his work jacket lazily draped over the hamper , validating your assumption.

you sluggishly get out of bed and quickly use the bathroom , getting excited to see jimin after a long day. you slip on your house shoes and walk over to the living room , sliding your feet. the tv is on low volume , playing a rerun of some random kdrama. jimins slouched on the couch , his head resting against the cushion. he holds his phone in his lap , looking down and scrolling away , stopping occasionally to read whatever’s on his screen.

he notices you and smiles , not saying anything as he’s still into his phone. you stretch and walk over to him , sitting on his lap , facing him , which forces him to move his phone out of the way. he tosses it aside and pulls you close into a warm embrace. he rests his head on your chest , closing his eyes as he takes advantage of this moment. you wrap your arms around his neck lovingling , running your hands through his hair. “i missed you.” you say , your voice still groggy.

he looks up at you , his soft pink lips slowly moving. “i missed you too. did you sleep good?” you yawn , nodding. “my baby is still sleepy.” he says , chuckling. you smile at him , hugging his neck tight. “it’s the rain.” you mumble , snuggling into his warm neck. you stay like this for a moment , not speaking. jimin rubs on your back , swaying softly. you feel yourself dozing off again , still tired after the nap.

you feel a sudden poke on your side as jimin teases you. you groan and place your hand on his chest. he puts his hand over yours and leans in to quickly give you a peck on the lips. you kiss him back , not opening your eyes. you feel his body shift as he begins to stand up , holding you still.

he holds onto your legs and wraps them around his waist as he carries you to the bed. he plops you onto your side and you quickly snuggle back under the covers. jimin slips into bed beside you and immediately pulls you close.

you begin to cuddle and snuggle closely beside him , feeling safe and loved. you rest your head on his chest , the feeling of his chest slowly rising up and down as you both drift off into peaceful sleep giving you automatic comfort.

days like this were your favorite. not because the roads get closed down or because the dirt becomes muddy , but because you get to spend it in bed with the person you love.

written by swanlakebaby™

[jmvore]

PLEASE NOTE: Clicking any link posted in this section will take you to a new site. These are not and WILL NOT be posted on Tumblr. - ALSO NOTE: this is a list of BTS!fanfiction I have archived (with a few that I've forgot but are gone because I deleted both blogs xD). Anywho, I hope you read these as well.

» Legend › Smut [🔞] | Fluff [☀] | Angst [☁] | Completed [✓] | Writing [✍] | Incomplete [🛑] | On Hiatus [❌] » Note › All Stories are Female Reader Insert Unless Stated Otherwise. » Created › 09.05.2023  » M. List(s) › Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Seokjin | Hoseok | Yoongi | Jungkook | AO3

BTS

FEATURING TWO OR MORE MEMBER(S)

♕ | KINKTOBER 2022-2023 [✍] M: OT7 | AU: DIFFERENT AU'S | Rating(s): 🔞☀☁ ╰› Synopsis » ❝ A ton of different short stories based on a bunch of kinks and alternative universes I wanted to write about. ❞

♕ | OUTWORLD (1/10) [✍] | CHAPTER FIC M: JUNGKOOK & YOONGI | AU: ABO | Rating(s): 🔞☁☀ ╰› Synopsis » You discover a myth of a wolf with snow-white fur and blood-red eyes. You and Jungkook find yourselves in the middle of a battle between the young wolf and the hunters who seem to want him for personal gain. It becomes a fight to keep him safe as well as your home but when the wolf imprints on you, things take a turn. Dark Magic, Curses and Poison causes damage, chaos, and grief.

♕ | BANGTAN DRABBLES (21/21) [✓] M: OT7 | AU: SUB!bts/SLICE OF LIFE | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » ❝ Just a book of BTS imagines that I wrote a long time ago. Warning! Some stories may be a trigger for some and I'll try my best to put a warning on those but, for the most part, these stories are smut, fluff and a little bit of angst.❞

♕ | A SWEET TASTE A FINER DELICACY (21/25) [❌] | CHAPTER FIC M: JUNGKOOK & JIMIN | AU: SLICE OF LIFE/MASSEUR/SUGAR DADDY | Rating(s): 🔞☀☁ ╰› Synopsis » It was a place Jungkook wouldn't dare be caught in. Being the Vice President of GC Records, his father warned him about every scandal that could arise but this... This wasn't one of them. Jungkook's curiosity gets the better of him as he doesn't know why he's standing in this building waiting to be seen. Maybe it was the murmurs of one of his employees or maybe it was the stress and tension that needed to be released. All he knows is that his interest was peaked.

♕ | YOU WERE MINE (9/15) [✍] | CHAPTER FIC M: JUNGKOOK, JIN, & HOSEOK | AU: YANDERE/TATTOO ARTIST | Rating(s): 🔞☁ ╰› Synopsis » You've avoided Jin since your messy breakup. Enters Jungkook, someone you'd grown to love and care for. But, with the shift in feelings-- you make it a point to avoid everyone associated with the two brothers. Well, at least tries to but with how Jungkook felt that was a little easier said than done. Jungkook has a soft spot for you, everyone knew it. Jin knew it and he hated it but, what happens when that soft spot turns into something else?

♕ | BLUE & GREY [❌] | ON HIATUS M: JUNGKOOK, JIMIN & YOONGI | AU: MAFIA | Rating(s): 🔞☀☁ ╰› Synopsis » You come home late and tired from a hards day of work. They don’t seem to mind since they have other ways for you to make it up to them.

♕ | BIRTHDAY TREATS [✓] M: JUNGKOOK NAMJOON, & JIMIN | AU: HYBRID/POLY | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » It’s your birthday and they wanted to do something really special for you.

♕ | 07 WAYS TO KISS YOUR HYBRID [✓] M: JUNGKOOK & JIMIN | AU: POLY/HYBRID | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » You come home late and tired from a hards day of work. They don’t seem to mind since they have other ways for you to make it up to them.

♕ | RED MOON [✓] M: JUNGKOOK & JIMIN | AU: DEMON/INCUBUS/SUCCUBUS | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Drawn to the soul's desperation, Jungkook finds himself confused with how and why his best friend and his friend’s girlfriend is standing naked right in front of him, smirking at him like he's a piece of meat. He likes it, maybe too much but he doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into either. Either way, it’s a dream come true.

♕ | LOVE ME HARDER  [✓] M: YOONGI, TAEHYUNG, JUNGKOOK & JIMIN | AU: POLY/STEP-FAMILY | Rating(s): 🔞☀☁ ╰› Synopsis » You knew it was going to happen eventually. Your mother finding someone new to call her own but what you didn’t expect was to fall into bed with said man and his sons. You knew it was wrong, knew you shouldn’t have done it but... You can’t help but love the attention your new family is giving you (even if it’s at the cost of your mother’s happiness).

♕ | WILDEST DREAM(S) [✓] M: JUNGKOOK & JIMIN | AU: POLY/HYBRID | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » You come home late and tired from a hards day of work. They don’t seem to mind since they have other ways for you to make it up to them.

♕ | YOU IN ME [✓] | Written w/ @/jkeuphoriadreamland M: JUNGKOOK & JIMIN | AU: Best Friend Brother | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ☁ ╰› Synopsis » Falling on hard times, Jimin moves in with his brother. He’s been a pain in the ass since you could remember, but when he decides to make things right, you’re suddenly unsure if you were willing to accept his apology.

♕ | RATED R [✓] M: JIMIN & YOONGI | AU: POLY/PUBLIC | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Sex in public places wasn’t really the norm for you like it was for them. So, when they told you they wanted to fool around in the movie theatre, you were skeptical at first but you slowly gave in.

Jeon Jungkook (8 Stories Total)

♕ | LOVE LIES (2/2) [✓] | | CHAPTER FIC AU: SUB!bts/SLICE OF LIFE | Rating(s): 🔞☀☁ ╰› Synopsis » Jungkook more or less has been the person who brought you your food every time you ordered. Being a regular customer with the Grubbin’ app, whenever your name pops up he makes sure he’s the first to get it. What you don’t know is he’s been trying to work up the courage to ask you on a date. Will you accept?

♕ | PARTY FAVORS [✓] AU: SUB!bts/SLICE OF LIFE | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » You’ve been shopping all day for his little get-together but, he can’t stop playing Overwatch long enough to help you set up.So, you take it upon yourself to show him what happens when he disobeys.

♕ | WET [✓] AU: SLICE OF LIFE | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Your cousin, Jimin, pool party was in full effect and you looked to see that Jungkook wasn’t in his swimwear, so what do you do? Push him in the pool. And he’s pissed. It doesn’t help that he’d been craving you all day, seeing as you’ve been walking around in nothing but, a bikini but this was the final straw.

♕ | BITTERSWEET JEALOUSY [✓] AU: SUB!bts/IDOL | Rating(s): 🔞☀☁ ╰› Synopsis » Still after all this time, Jungkook can’t control his jealousy when he sees you with other people. You’ll just have to teach your baby boy a lesson.

♕ | I’LL MISS YOU, KITTEN (2/2) [✓] AU: IDOL | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis» Your girl group and BTS are in the midst of touring. You and Jungkook have been sneaking around along with a couple of yours and his members too. He just wants to show you how much he misses you.

♕ | DO YOU TRUST ME? [✓] AU: ARRANGED MARRIAGE | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » there’s something wrong, you can tell when he comes home just a little too distant and when you find him breaking down in your bedroom, you want nothing more but to comfort him in the best way you know how, though he wants your love in another way.

♕ | I BELIEVE YOU [✓] AU: NON-IDOL | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Jungkook tells you all the time that you’re beautiful, it’s up to you if you believe him or not. -or- Your boyfriend Jungkook knows how insecure you are and tries to make you feel better.

♕ | LEVIATHAN [✓] AU: SUPERNATURAL | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Jungkook reddened eyes watched you dance by yourself, his body yearning for yours– his throat thirsty for your blood.

Park Jimin (10 Stories Total)

♕ | THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT PARK JIMIN [🛑] | CHAPTER FIC AU: HYBRID/SLICE OF LIFE | Rating(s): 🔞☀ | fennec fox!jm ╰› Synopsis » There’s something special about being able to just appreciate life and everything that it gives you. who is Jimin to complain, honestly? he has his kits, his soon-to-be wife and even now everything seems as if it’s too good to be true.

♕ | IN DUE TIME [🛑] | CHAPTER FIC AU: STEP-BROTHER | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Who would've thought your step-brother would have fallen for you. And you with him. keeping secrets is hard but, it's more than worth it when you're desperate to be with the one you love.

♕ | KISS IT BETTER BABY [✓] | fennec fox!jm AU: SUGARBABY/HYBRID | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Typical movie night has become a big thing for you and your hybrid boyfriend but, soon touches turn to kisses which soon turns to him laying on his back at your mercy.

♕ | BBYBOYMINIEXO WANTS TO PLAY [✓] AU: SUB!bts/non-IDOL | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Using Euphoria as his stress reliever, he found you. Now if only he can keep you and make you his.

♕ | HE NEEDS MY LOVE [✓] AU: SUB!bts/SUGA BABY | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Jimin just misses you and what better way to show you then to tease you while you’re at work.

♕ | ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU [✓] AU: SUB!bts/SUGA BABY | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Jimin wants to do something nice for you so, what better way to do that than to cook for you and greet you with your favorite lingerie on.

♕ | LEVIATHAN: A BITE OF YOU [✓] AU: SUPERNATURAL | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Park Jimin was livid. Not only had you left the club with his enemy but, you ended up sleeping with him too. You belong to him and now, a punishment is the only thing that seems to get that through your pretty little head.

♕ | BABY BOY [✓] AU: SUB!bts/SUGA BABY | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » he’s your baby boy who just wants to be praised and of course, you can’t help but give him what he wants even after he’s been a bad boy.

♕ | OH, PRETTY LITTLE FOX [✓] | fennec fox!jm AU: SUB!BTS/HYBRID | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » He's been keeping it a little secret, something he's been wanting to try but when you confront him about it he's more than willing to share.

MIN YOONGI

♕ | BABY GIRL [🛑] AU: IDOL/ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » Phone sex had become a regular for you two while he was on tour and with that came teasing since he couldn’t get to you but, what happens when he’s finally home?

KIM NAMJOON

♕ | RENDEZVOUS [✓] AU: IDOL/ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP | Rating(s): 🔞☀ ╰› Synopsis » He's supposed to be fixing the roof to your shower not having sex with a tenant.

© ᴊᴍᴠᴏʀᴇ/ɢᴏᴏɢɪᴇᴋᴏᴏ/ʜᴛᴛᴘ-ᴘᴊᴍ | ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛ(ꜱ) ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ  DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TAMPER WITH ANY OF MY WORK. Even if it isn't posted here it is still mine and I do not consent to it being posted on YouTube, WattPad, or any other fanfiction website. Thank you.

[star-my]

BTS Fic Recs ☆ Tumblr (i)

These are all available on tumblr as of April 2024. Some are likely crossposted on ao3 as well.

~Ao3 RECS HERE~ ~Recs (ii)~ ~Recs (iii)~

Almost all are complete works, those with “+” after WC are incomplete. Most are BTS x (F!)Reader.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly

If any authors tagged here wish to be removed/untagged, please lmk! | Shoutout to @ggukkiereads who does an amazing job creating rec lists, which helped me find many of these fics

OT7/Multi

☆ BTS Reactions by @dreamescapeswriting | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @btsjfans | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @bulletproofwhalien | NSFW + SFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @salvejoon | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @sunshine-and-bangtan | SFW + NSFW |

☆ Desperado Series by @heartbeatan | Mafia AU | PJM + JJK + KTH (in progress) | 60-160k(+) each

☆ The Company series by @btsmakesmehappy | Agent AU | 25-37k(+) each (in progress)

☆ Mafia BTS Reactions by @ninetailedfoxmanchi | Mafia AU (+Yandere AU) |

☆ #CodeBTS series by @yminie | Mafia AU | 1-12k each

Kim Namjoon

☆ The Ghost in Apartment 1403 series by @notsoguiltykpop | Ghost AU, Supernatural AU, Roommate AU? | ?k

☆ beauty & the bookworm by @jungshookz | E2L Library AU, Uni AU | 20k

☆ la vie en bonsai by @jungshookz | S2F2L Neighbours AU, Baker AU | 38k

☆ The Seven Nights series by @theunknowncryptid | SMAU, Mafia AU | 13k

☆ real magic by @heretobbtstrash | S2F2L Single Parent AU, Coffee Shop AU, Coworkers AU | 17k

Kim Seokjin

☆ {Unavailable}

Min Yoongi

☆ Take One by @untaemedqueen | Pornstar AU | 24k

☆ The Deal series by @untaemedqueen | Mafia AU | ?k

☆ suit & tie by @jungshookz | CEO AU, Office AU, Coworkers AU, PA AU | 21k + drabbles

☆ hellish by @jungshookz | E2L Demon AU, Roommate AU | 22k

☆ strike a chord by @snackhobi | S2L Pianist AU, Bar AU | 16k

☆ straight shooter by @snackhobi | F2L/E2L Cyberpunk AU, Dystopian AU | 14k

☆ devil with the mint hair series by @theharrowing | E2FWB Brother's BFF AU, Stoner AU | 11k+

☆ a wager of lords and love by @hisunshiine | S2L Historical AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 7k

☆ daechwita by @chemicalpink | Daechwita AU, Assassin AU | 10k

☆ stay by @luffles424 | Daechwita AU, Assassin AU | 3k

☆ daechwita by @se0kie | Daechwita AU | 4k

☆ make me proud by @moonscriptsx | Established Relationship AU, Canon Idol-verse | 6k

☆ by its cover by @kittae | S2L Cat Dad AU | 2k

☆ misfortunately, yours by @sor-vette | S2F2L Dark Fae AU, Dark Fantasy AU | 32k

☆ mixtape by @jungblue | F2L Uni AU, Radio AU | 15k

☆ cyberslut by @kimnjss | SMAU, Uni AU, Fboy AU | ?k

☆ alive aha fxck by @softyoongiionly | F2L Neighbours AU, Vampire AU | 43k

☆ a brew of wings by @inkedtae | S2F2L Dragon AU, Witch AU | 10k

☆ fury of their scales by @kpopisthereasonihavenolife | Dragon AU | 18k

☆ inheritance series by @jincherie | Hybrid AU | 21k

☆ tuxedo series by @whatifyoulivelikethat | Cat(-shifter?) AU, Roommates AU | ft JJK | 49k+

☆ Assuage series by @btsqualityy | Omegaverse AU, Werewolf AU | ?k

☆ show by @httpjeon | Pw/oP ft BTS | 2k

☆ drip by @here2bbtstrash | Pw/oP | 5k

Jung Hoseok

☆ midnight confessions by @snackhobi | BFF2L Coworkers AU, Office AU, Buzzfeed Unsolved AU | 27k

☆ the bride of ashmedai by @jeonggukingdom | Demon AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 13k

Park Jimin

☆ The Bird Cage series + The Lion's Den series by @untaemedqueen | S2L Mafia AU | ?k

☆ Set It Off series by @btsqualityy | Mafia AU | ?k

☆ the hunt by @httpjeon | Shifter AU, Fantasy AU | 8k

☆ lovebug by @httpjeon | Hybrid AU | 12k

Kim Taehyung

☆ Pied Piper by @untaemedqueen | Mafia AU, Established Relationship AU | 10k

☆ maybe i do series by @chateautae | Arranged Marriage AU, Chaebol AU, CEO AU | 410k + drabbles

☆ kinda hot by @kimnjss | BFF2L SMAU, Uni AU, Fboy AU | ?k

☆ nip it in the bud by @opaljm | Brother's BFF AU, Piercing AU | 10k

☆ heatwave series by @curly-bangtan | F2L Roommate AU | 12k

☆ under the covers by @jessikahathaway | Agent AU | 23k

Jeon Jungkook

☆ heavy lifting by @snackhobi | Coworkers AU | 13k

☆ Miss Vagabond by @bubblesuga | F2L Gamer AU | 8k

☆ blizzard by @curly-bangtan | S2L Roommates AU | 16k

☆ Sparkle by @btsmosphere | F2L Roommates AU | 3k

☆ Hands-On Learning series by @ladyartemesia | Uni AU | 5k

☆ kiss it better by @jincherie | Uni AU, Sports AU, Cheer AU | 12k

☆ ghosts just wanna have fun by @sugaxjpg | Ghost AU, Supernatural AU, Uni AU | ft MYG + KTH | 20k

☆ tell me your secrets (i'm all ears) by @jinpire | Uni AU, Hybrid AU | 7k

☆ under the bridge by @jincherie | Hybrid AU | 11k

☆ Swipe right by @ppersonna | BFF2L Tinder AU | 9k

☆ overtime by @cupofteaguk | CEO AU, Office AU, PA AU, Coworkers AU | 12k

☆ I won't stop you series by @imsarabum | Vampire AU, Fantasy AU, Office AU, Coworkers AU, CEO AU, PA AU | ?k

☆ life eternal by @jungkookiebus | Fae AU | 9k

☆ hotter than hell series by @chateautae | Demon AU | 136k

☆ Hellblazer series by @jungkookiebus | Demon AU, Constantine AU | ?k

☆ agent of love series by @ppersonna | SMAU, Agent AU | ?k+

☆ strawberry kisses series by @kimnjss | SMAU, Brother's BFF AU, Tinder AU | ?k

☆ drag me down (to hell) series by @kimvtae | Mafia AU, Single Parent AU | 58k (abandoned)

☆ Concealed Weapon by @gimmesumsuga | Mafia AU, Husband AU | 10k

☆ hate sex by @yeoreos | FWB Pw/oP | 4k

Overall Favourite Authors (If I recc'd all their works like I want to/more than I have, I'd have to make this series even longer >.<)

☆ @bonvoyagenoona

☆ @chateautae

☆ @flowerwrites06

☆ @here2bbtstrash

☆ @hollyhomburg

☆ @icyhobi

☆ @jjungkookislife

☆ @jungshookz

☆ @justcallmenikki7

☆ @kpopfanfictrash

☆ @ladyartemesia

☆ @luxekook

☆ @magicalsalamander

☆ @yminie

☆ @yoonia