Park Jimin Fanfic - Tumblr Posts

epitome of love - Jimin drabble

Happy Birthday Jimin!

warnings: Not really a proper fic, just pure fluffy, emo thoughts about the angel that is Jimin. Literally, just a random drabble for Jimin's bday because I love him so much and I don't know how else to express it. Not proofread though. a/n: I wanted to write something a lot proper and planned for his bday but once again school has been maddening and this is all I could do! Anyhoooo, Happy birthday to the prettiest boy

masterlist

It was like watching a flower bloom during a pleasant spring morning every time Jimin smiled. The way his eyes turned into crescent moons that disappeared as his plump pink lips curved up lighting up the entire world.

You'd known Jimin since he was a little boy, with the same crescent moon eye, bright smile, and a delicate beauty in every movement. Even through his years of inexplicable anger and hot tears, he had looked nothing less than an angel. Growing alongside him felt like having your own guardian angel next to you.

His tenderness mustn't be mistaken for weakness, for Jimin is arguably one of the strongest humans this earth has seen. For someone who could break a log of wood into two with his bare hands and break stages with his sheer presence, he chose to be kind, polite, grateful and tender.

You had stood on the sidelines watching as the world analyzed him, criticised him, adored him and loved him. You remember the nights he was so fragile from withstanding the sheer intensity of the hate from bystanders who'd never understand the art and love that this angel of a boy and his brothers pour out into the world. On the other hand, you had been blessed enough to witness countless tears of epiphany and insurmountable love that millions of people poured onto him. And how gracefully he soaked it all up and gave it back multifold.

Growing up you'd seen Park Jimin be the constant ray of light through the harshest nights of winter. You'd seen his wax and wane like the moon- thriving on borrowed love and happiness when he tried his best to keep his smile afloat in the rampant wave of hate and pain.

You saw the tears that glistened on his bruised face, patching the pieces of wounded hearts around the world. His ability to illuminate rooms and stadiums across the world with love and joy was also why he crawled into your embrace in a frail state. The way his face still lit up, albeit like the shy sun on a harsh winter day, as his body gave out into exhaustion was proof enough that Jimin was the personification of love and everything good and pure in this world.

You never needed words to define what you felt for him, there was no necessity. Jimin had leaned into your touch since the time you had been playing in a kiddy playground in your diapers. Jimin had held you close, the love flowing out of him like the river of gods as he nursed you back to happiness.

The boy who had sat under the stars, pouring out his adoration for the universe, was the same man under the powerful lights with eyes like fire. He was always the same person and no amount of worldly glamour had stopped him from dragging you out to a hilltop at 6 am to watch a sunset right after a strenuous performance just hours prior.

Jimin stood strong as an oak tree. swaying along like the angelic winds of autumn air and caressing bruised hearts with a single smile through hurricanes and storms. Jimin will continue being everybody's angel and your soul. He is the angel that the universe has lent the earth to spread his wings and light up every side he gazes.

You never needed to be in love with Jimin...

Jimin is Love.

OPERATION CUPID

howdy :) so, the characters you're about to read sort of sprung out of their own volition as I worked on a namjoon fic. I wanted to see how these scenes would do as standalones, as little slices of life, peeks into the daily ups and downs of the cast. scenes proceed in no particular order. sometimes chronological, sometimes as time-skips. I'm just going with the flow, wherever the tide takes me.

wc: 3.0k

tracklist: 'halley's comet' by billie eilish, 'pink skies' by lany, 'safety net by ari g

tense and POV: 3rd and present

ep. 2 | AO3

OPERATION CUPID Classified Excerpts

Jimin is lean, and comparatively small when standing next to Namjoon. His hands are chubby, and his fingers are stubby. None of this, however, subtracts from his agility and his swan-like elegance even as he glides across a fifty-year-old, small-town diner at rush hour.

It's the kind of awe-inspiring grace that belongs on stage, spotlit amidst tule skirts and disciplined ballet point shoes. The kind of grace that is chiseled to perfection through years of arduous practice and patience.

Norah, who is sat on a swivel bar chair behind the register, takes inventory of crinkled green bills. Between lining the bills with a few taps against the counter and reaching over to scribble on a tracking sheet, she steals glances his way.

She wonders just how many falls it had taken him to trust his quick and light footing not to betray him. How many bruises he'd acquired and endured to no longer fear pain.

Jimin never seems to catch on to her stray glances, or the twinkle in her gaze every time he comes into frame from behind the shoulder, or broad back, of a customer that shuffles in, or out, of the establishment.

He's used to having eyes affixed to him; feels comfortable in the spotlight, in crowds. Naturally charming and approachable, he makes friends left and right, and talks to them as if they are years-long acquaintances meeting over dinner. How's your family doing? My, that must have been so hard for you! Say what, here's a plate of Saturn rings, on the house. He'd wink and utter something, while holding a hand to their shoulder, about keeping it a secret from the boss, Namjoon.

Norah would wince. It's not like they are financially flexible enough to afford freebies.

As for Namjoon, he'd pretend to have not seen anything.

Jimin gently sets down a tall glass of strawberry milkshake, adorned with a dollop of white foam and a single, shimmering cherry on a table where a customer is hunched over a book.

He'd noticed, on his glide her way, that she'd been pensively entranced, entirely engrossed in the blotchy ink of the pages, brows pinched beneath the slight part between her curled bangs.

He didn't want to interrupt her careful consideration. It appeared of utmost importance, and if not that, than at least of utmost enjoyment. In the case of the latter, she had a peculiar way of displaying it (enjoyment).

At the drum of the glass's rim over the wooden table, the woman snaps her head to capture his studious gaze.

The pinch of her eyebrows dissolves, much like the foam atop her drink, and becomes replaced with an appreciative smile.

"Is it any good?" He glances, suggestively, at the book she'd hurriedly closed over her forefinger, which she'd been using as a make-shift bookmark.

Her cheeks and ears grow flushed, as if it were a shameful thing to enjoy reading.

Jimin wonders if it's the nature of the text that makes her so bashful, hiding her blush by flattening her bangs.

Regret hardens like cement over his feet, leaves him paralyzed to assess her response.

"Ah, this?" She drums her fingers over the hardcover, and it resonates wonderfully crisp. "Quite unexpectedly, yes."

Jimin's smile returns, as does his graceful fluidity. There's a single crooked tooth that peeks through when his smile reaches his eyes. It's just barely noticeable. It's Norah's favorite detail.

Unaware, the woman elaborates further: "You see, a friend of mine-" She halts as if holding a mental debate over whether that was the proper term for it. She shakes her head, dismissing the flurry of questions and doubts brought forth by a simple six-letter word. "It was his choice for the month. We have this thing where we trade books after each turn. We read each other's margin annotations, and sometimes try to identify doodles done in the likeness of classical art pieces. It's our way of getting to know each other."

"It's unexpected because," she explains in a sort of round-about way, "he knows, and knew while picking out this title, that I loathe Nietzche."

"Ah, that's lovely! It's a clever take on penpal-ship," Jimin quips.

"Oh!" She chokes a chuckle down, not meaning to sound so excited.

She hadn't been able to conceal her smile at the mention of the friend; Jimin had caught on to her wandering, dreamy gaze falling down at the book's cover amidst her recollection. "I hadn't thought of it like that, but now that you mention it, it is, isn't it?"

Perhaps only now made aware of her rambling by the holler of a nearby customer for Jimin's attention, does she let her voice diminish and takes up interest at the glass before her. Condensation dotting her fingertips.

"In short: Yes, it's good." She takes a decided sip of her drink, the foam smearing her upper lip only for a second before she licks it away. Her eyes expand and soon enough she's eager for another sip of the decadent drink. "As is this!"

Jimin's turning to tend to the customer who had been hollering and whistling for his attention. He halts mid-step, and swivels back to face her, doesn't leave her table until he prompts: "You should tell him you like it over coffee, chocolate, or even a milkshake sometime. Step out of the pages, the margins."

"No-" she stammers. "No, no." It's more a bid to persuade herself out of pointless delusional than it is an attempt at shutting him up.

"We've never talked about meeting," she adds. "I think it's a mutual desire to keep it anonymous. It's perfect like this, safe from external pressure to be anything more than two friends bonding over literature and internal jokes."

"Perfect's not real," Jimin responds. "Forgive me for being pushy, here, but if you like him, as you appear to, why only limit yourselves to footnotes in each other's lives?"

"That's a preposterous proposition!" She hides her blush this time behind the rim of the glass she brings up to her lips, and what little frothy cream is left. When she sets the mug down, a triumphant smile momentously strikes her face like lightning at the realization she'd weaved in her word-of-the-day so subtly, and with added alliteration.

She continues, reigning in the smile (Jimin wouldn't get that inside joke): "How can you like someone you haven't even met?"

"Haven't you, though? Met him, in a sense? I'd argue you're intimately aware of all the pages of his life, like that little book of yours." He taps the sturdy cover lying on the dinner table before bowing away, leaving her to ponder - not before slipping a circular coaster beneath her drink as it had already started to condense.

Namjoon would get on him about the wood, how old it is, how delicate, how financially inflexible they are.

For, possibly, the first time in her life, since she was an infant, she sits in silence. The concerto of intriguing words playing in her mind falls mute. All diction and syntax is replaced with a profound note of realization. A note she ushers to silence, lest anyone else hear. A note that's her secret - like a bookmark, or dollar bill, sticky note, or receipt shoved between pages and preserved over time.

After tending to the demanding customer with an unwavering smile, Jimin glides around the counter and rubs shoulders with Norah, who is still hunched over the register — has been for the past half-hour, impatiently stabbing her fingers over its blank screen.

Fucking Mercurcy retrograding; it always had to cause some sort of glitch. She always happened to find herself dead-center to its discovery.

The register had functioned fine for Namjoon just an hour ago. Now, it'll appear as if it was her doing. How much of a deduction would that be from her paycheck?

Oblivious to her inner turmoil, Jimin whispers over her shoulder: “It’s her.”

At Norah's lack of enthusiasm, he repeats himself, only now forcing her gaze onto his suggestive one.

Norah's face twists with bewilderment. "Who?"

Jimin casts his eyes at the star-dotted ceiling with an exasperated roll. Then, he slams his shoulder cloth down on the counter (more for dramatic effect than intimidation) and subtly nods in the direction of the bibliophilic woman.

Norah squints. Unamused, she blankly stares back at Jimin. Irritation is starting to settle on her face.

"Namjoon's penpal," he finally comes out with it, spells it out with each syllable as if it had been painfully obvious all of this time.

At that, her chocolate eyes light up, the way they do after her first espresso each morning.

Jimin crafts up this "amazing" (his words, not Norah's), and densely convoluted plan to stich the two up. He's convinced that just because they don't glide at his swift pace, they are helplessly in need of intervention, lest they waste their youth away pining and brooding aimlessly.

Norah holds her refutes deep in her chest, merely lends a curious ear to his inspired rambles. An assumption bubbles to the surface of her mind that this hyper-fixation with establishing a romantic interest for Namjoon was only a projection of Jimin's own scarcity in the love department. Even since he'd become a single father, he'd not had much time, space or privacy to afford a fling.

And even if a desperate fling did happen to materialize itself at his front door, he'd kindly decline; stringless hook-ups are no longer his thing. He's looking for something solid, something long-term. Thinks baby Byeol will benefit from a feminine role-model.

He's trying his best as a father, and in his defense, that's more than most absentee fathers out there, but he's fearful that as she grows, he'll be of less use to her. All he has to worry about now is feeding her, bathing her and providing a roof and clothes. Later, he'll have to procure answers to increasingly difficult questions.

Regardless of the intrinsic motive, Jimin's buzzing, talking a mile-a-minute as he walks circles around the diner.

Norah furrows her brows as she hoists a chair onto its corresponding table.

Jimin likes playing Cupid a little too much. He forgets that those red-tipped arrows are sharper than they seem in folklore. Perhaps Cupid wasn't born blind, rather his own carelessness with those arrows blinded him before he learned fates weren't something to toy with when bored and idle.

Jimin's first warning arrives in the form of Norah's apprehension. "I don't know, Chim," she whines.

His eyes round with quiet concern, and he cranes his weight onto the edge of a table. Crosses his arms over his chest, a stained rag dangling between his hold.

"Why? Why not? Don't you think Nam deserves some excitement? All he ever does is overwork himself and play the same miserable song over and over. " He shoots a deathly glare at the vintage juke box at the edge of the bar at the mere recollection.

"He's young. Has a build most girls would gawk over." He's listing the attributes on his stubby fingers. "Smart, kind, generous- I mean, do you think any other boss would put up with my BS on a daily? The man's an angel."

In the dim light of the overhanding star lights, Jimin's eyes glisten, and he averts his gaze, fearful his composure will crumble.

"He deserves happiness, Nor. if this all goes up in flames, he deserves a speck of happiness to carry him through it, guide him to a new horizon. This can't be his everything, because as soon as it falls, so will he."

"You're saying he needs a safety net."

"Yes, exactly! A safety net." He recites the term, weighing its shape on his lips, surprised at how properly it fits.

Norah weakly hoists the last of the chairs. "I thought that was us. You know? Us three, to the end?"

"Nor..." he frowns, launches his weight off the table he'd been reclining himself against, and saunters his way through the maze of stacked chairs to Norah. "We will always be there for one another, but you and I both know there are things he carries in secret. Things he keeps from us, for our sake. Maybe she'll crack through his shell, and make it less..." He looks for the word somewhere over and past her head, and physically palpates the air for its shape. "Less...you know...less heavy." He's not please with the selection, but it's the only word that comes to mind in that instance, and bears resemblance to the abstract idea of his mind.

"Maybe he'll allow her, unlike us."

"I get it. I hear you. I just don't know how to feel about this. What if it blows up and he hates us for it?"

Jimin takes up the role of devil's advocate, an un-orthodoxically hopeful one: "What if it works out wonderfully well?"

"Fine," her agreement falls flat, but he makes up for her lack of enthusiasm by doing a little fist hoist in the air.

She grabs his wrist and forces his gaze back onto hers. "This is Nam we are talking about. We need a good plan and an even better execution. Absolutely no room for fuckups."

"Hey, Jimin?"

"Hmm?" His gaze flies up at the sound of such formality, and the absence of the familiar 'Chim.' His furrowed brows frame a set of eyes rounded with concern. They scan her countenance, attempting to pick up on subtle, unspoken moods that could explain that sudden change.

"Whatever happens -if this place goes belly-up..." Norah does a motion with her forefinger, its silver band reflecting in the waning amber of evening. "We'll still be..." her gaze dances, unsteady between his steady and attentive one, but she proves incapable of holding it.

Circling the bands around her now clammy fingers, she orders her thoughts, lines her words over the plateau of her tongue. Like perfectly placed and aligned dominoes, she intends to let them charge forth with unbridled momentum.

But instead, they clank awkwardly and with no set rhythm as she stammers between what should be said, and what should be censored, eternalized to secrecy.

"It'll be us three, forever, right? Nothing will change?" Of course things would change, drastically. Namjoon alone would have to uproot his life to comply with the terms of agreement he'd established with his parents in allowing him to take-up the risk of running the diner. That alone would suggest him moving away. Communication between the three would fall, their bond crafted over years would loosen and come undone like an improperly fastened knot, or one that just wore away, sun-bleached and tattered.

He wants to procure a worthy response, to at least undo the tears starting to form on her lash-line, but he can't bring himself to lie to her. Nothing was certain. Not ever, and certainly not now.

He would be lying if he denies having scouted for jobs online once he puts Byeol down to bed each night.

It's less about holding different jobs than it is about the distance between those routines. The fall-out wouldn't be palpable during the first few months as they would make every attempt to overcome the discrepancy, to meet and chat, with everything being freshly new. Once they were to give into monotony and convenience, though, those meetings would shorten into oblivion.

Perhaps this is why Jimin is so adamant about helping Namjoon conquer love; it's his way of leaving an impression that will outlive his presence in Namjoon's life.

Instead of voicing his reasonable suspicions, he coos, much in the likeness of the tone he uses to calm Byeol. "Hey, hey... It's okay. It'll be okay."

He encroaches with outstretched arms, ready to collect her before she shatters into a million pieces right before him. His small, delicate hands hold her head and stroke her hair.

Norah renders her guard useless, and sheds it with a few tears that stray from her shut eyes. She nuzzles the bridge of her pierced button bose against the side of his neck.

No longer looking into her eyes, he musters a pretty, white lie, sweet like cane sugar, to coax the bitterness of medicine, of reality, of life: "Until the stars burn out."

She wants to call him out on the lack of accuracy in that statement; processes it's fallacy, but stops herself from speaking. Instead, she relishes the embrace as if it were the first and the last.

She allows herself to enjoy the imagery of the sentiment and locks her hands behind his back, just in case the stars do burn out in that instant. In case they drift off into the void together, to face that dark unknown together.

Norah's unspokenly ambitious, hazardly competitive. Rather than boasting about how she's the very best, she'll take up any and every opportunity to one-up her opponent in the most obscure trivia, a match of chess, tennis (you name it).

Her ambition is merely a deep, infiltrating greed that courses through her like an infestation. She's conditioned herself to fear coveting something. Taught herself that to want is to lose; and that vulnerability is dangerous.

She's recited a million times over in her head declinations of her blossoming feelings for Jimin. Every bud that blooms in daylight, she snips in moonlight.

She wants it all. She wants him. She wants forever. She doesn't merely want to buy an extension for the inevitable. She doesn't want to convince herself out of the want. Not with this want.

Something deep inside her is gnawing with want - not the lustful desire kind, rather, the I've been alone for so long that I am touch-starved, and wholly lonesome and tired and I just want a place to rest.

She wishes on every lash of her eyes that Jimin could one day be that for her, and likewise, her for him.

A safe place.

But she also wishes incessantly for the diner's success and Namjoon's happiness, yet the bills continue to pile. With winter unfolding, the crowds are thinning, the diner grows quiet and stale.

Wishing has never proven to suffice. It never has been the magical remedy. Stars are just pretty orbs of light in the sky, not wish granters.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ this teeny series is lowkey a love letter to jimin for being such a loving, warm person. a literal angel x

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ also, probs unconsciously influenced by peyton x jake oth dynamic (we were robbed!)

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ the ode to jimin continues >> ep. 2

OPERATION CUPID | ep. 2

ep. 1 | ep. 3 |

wc: 4.4k

tracklist: 'halley's comet' by billie eilish

tense and POV: present and 3rd person

OPERATION CUPID Classified Excerpts

Jimin holds his phone at head-level and poses for what appears to be a selfie amidst an empty diner.

He attempts for it to be discreet, something dismissible by Namjoon marching to and fro.

The tall and broad man is far too preoccupied with restocking to notice the camera lens purposefully aimed at his frame, over Jimin's shoulder. It's not unlike him to become so hyper-fixated on a task that he blurs the surroundings. His eye sight is healthy, but prone to tunnel-vision.

It's a slow day at Halley's - has been such for a number of weeks now. What normally would be Wednesdays, which passed on as slow as molasses with the arrival of two, five, ten (if lucky) clients, had now ulcerated into slow weekends.

To a company, there's nothing as frightening as a slow Friday evening.

False comforts could be summed up with the phrase "Snow Season is the Slow Season” which they would recite to one another in the stillness. An acknowledgement of the fleetingness of seasons. A promise for a better tomorrow, of hope for prosperity somewhere in the vast horizon.

And, like the old remedy of honey for a sore throat, it would do the trick. It would soothe their unease long enough for the skies to darken, which during the winter isn't long at all.

Only the hours of daylight have started to extend with each day that's strikethrough on the calendar hung up on the wall, the chill in the weather easing with grace. There hasn’t been snowfall in weeks. 

Economic discrepancies have started to become pervasive - like cracks on a ceiling letting in rain. Drips amassing to puddles on the tile floor.

They can be ignored and evaded until you misstep and slip, landing on your tailbone, forced to face the truth of the matter. To hold its weight in its entirety and try not to cave in under the gravity.

It’s not for a lack of trying. Namjoon is as analytical as he is determined, and there’s no one more appropriate to run the diner, but even with his creative solutions, progress is scarce. 

Even if he were to lay out and repurpose a hundred kitchen containers to catch the flood, the persistent dripping would continue to echo the unspoken worries. Enough to drive anybody mad with the promise of overflow, of nearing a point of no return, a snapping point.

Problems keep materializing out of thin air, new cracks being torn across the ceiling, water dripping less sporadically, more consistently. Namjoon's having a hard time keeping the tally, though he doesn't let it show past the long hours he subjects his body to.

He justifies the severe degree of self-sacrifice and self-discipline with the generalization that such is the life of a small business owner. His grandparents, when at their prime, had made it seem almost easy.

It's been rough attempting to fill in their shoes over the past couple of years. Namjoon can't get over the feeling that he's drowning all the time.

He wonders if it'll always feel like this. If there will ever come a point where he could recline with a long-held exhale of relief, long enough to take in the progress made before diving back to tune-up the fine details.

Norah, who is significantly more discreet than Jimin, disguises her phone with her half-opened hardcover book. Though, it should be said, that in preoccupying herself with the perfect cover-up, she’s neglected the fact that her phone is not muted.

She cringes at the click of a captured image, slides down her phone along the textured surface of page 122, to collect on her lap. Shrinks into herself and apologetically bows her head in Jimin’s direction. Today, she could be the sole reason the operation blows.

Making a quick adjustment in correction, she places pressure on the metal button along the frame of her phone. The device's vibration is muffled on her lap.

But it's too late to salvage the situation.

Namjoon's head is turned her way. His analytical gaze narrows on her figure.

She turns a page, making note she'll have to go back to actually read its contents much later, when her ears aren't burning, her mind not racing.

Momentarily peering up over the frame of the book, she realizes Namjoon's gaze has laxed and lifted to look over her figure. It then rounds across the diner, sliding swiftly over vacant tables and unclaimed stools.

He stalls over Jimin, who's drawing circles over the spotless surface of a table with a tattered rag. Admittedly, the rag's in poorer condition than the table.

Namjoon's eyes narrow for a second before he averts his attention back to the task at hand - attempting to open a shipment box without slicing his fingers with the carton-cutter blade.

Nearing closing time, upon completing inventory, Norah's loading a cardboard box into a crowded storage closet. A skinny, crammed little thing with enough shelves to be repurposed for climbing like a ladder.

Her hands slowly retract around the edges of the box. She gently and measuredly presses her weight against the better half that still protrudes off the shelf, thrusts her hips once, twice, until it it shoves into place with a sigh.

Once secured, she claps her hands to rid them of gathered dust and backsteps out of the closet, all the while, maintaining her gaze fixated on its silhouette, cautious and apprehensive.

Barely blinking, her brows furrow with worry as she imagines her efforts collapsing forward onto the tiles, the contents of the box exploding. Pictures how that single disturbance could potentially bring down the rest of the crowded shelves toppling over her.

She makes herself small under the imagined outcome, rounds her shoulders into a make-shift shield, just in case.

Though her backsteps are light and delicate, she clumsily collides with something solid.

The sudden contact causes her to flinch and further shrink in on herself. Her eyes, now, though squinted half-shut from the surprise, remain cast on the wobbly shelf. The snagged and rusted nails holding it together.

Repeatedly, mantra-like, she whispers, pleads "Stay, stay, stay..."

Suspecting she'd made an error in her stepping, but without turning to confirm, she glides her booted foot towards the right and gradually shifts her weight over it, continues to retreat, but again collides with an opposing force. It's no longer startling, more of a source of great frustration.

Her suspicion grows at the coincidence of striking the force once more, and that's when her mental focus on the shelf wanes long enough for her to grow aware of the characteristically animate warmth flanking her.

A warm breath makes itself known on her nape, the way morning mist hovers glass blades during dawn. Only less graceful. It sputters.

Hurriedly, she swivels to find Jimin dissolving into a snicker, cheeks flushed rosy, the way she would envision a mischievous cherub. Love incarnate.

In this intimate proximity, her focus starts to blur. She no longer holds the image of the toppling shelves center focus, rather it obscures and falls out of frame. Replacing it are his lips, plump, round, bottom-favoring, which her gaze sporadically flutters back and forth from.

With a face commanded with startle, brows rounded and raised, eyes widened, she retreats back into the closet she'd originally been trying to escape from.

Contrarily, Jimin encroaches. He's fluid and swift, as he always is. The way he makes any interaction into choreography, contemporary lyricism. While she's solid and stiff like stone, he can't bear to be more opposite.

It seems a bit contradictory, but water holds a natural power over stone. With enough exposure, it starts to erode, to cave, to part.

Norah's frightened he's too similar to water. Too fluid. That she's eroding under his influence. It sends alarms blaring loudly within her. Abort. Flee. Escape.

Jimin lightly places a graze on her torso, in a way that's meant to reassure, and comfort, and somehow gauge a response all at once.

His gaze dances between her wide eyes, further gauging as he shuts the door behind him, albeit with a lack of gentleness compared to the way he holds her.

Norah flinches as though the slam physically hurts her when its brunt echo rattles the shelves immediately behind her and distresses dormant dust above.

It falls over her like snow.

Briefly, Jimin becomes captivated by the sight. The flurry specks dancing in the cone of light of the single bulb hanging overhead. Cascading and collecting on the top of her head.

Her round watchful eyes cast upwards at him.

The absolute privacy offered by the space. The knowledge that he'd only need to take one stride forward to be flushed against her.

It's brief, the moment, abruptly interrupted by the croak of her voice "What are you doing here?"

He clears his throat, moment gone, and digs something out of the pocket of his black apron.

An envelope.

"I did something bad."

"What? How bad?"

"It depends," he shrugs slowly, not very convincing of his innocence in the matter. Really resembles a turtle secluding into its hard shell. He wouldn't feel the need to hide if he didn't doubt his character in the moment. If he didn't suspect a scolding. "From some perspectives, it's bad, from others it's good. So I guess it depends on how you look at it."

"And, just what perspectives are those?"

"Bad-" The envelope tucked between his arm and torso, he mimics the plates of a weight-scale, cupping air in both hands on either side. He tips their height as he speaks. "- for the Namjoon that's self-sufficient and oblivious to our plan. Good - for the Namjoon who secretly wants - needs - help but can't bring himself to ask."

She holds out her hands expectantly. Attempts to assess the damage.

He places the envelope in her hold. Its face sports elegant cursive. A flower-pattern stamp on its upper corner. Exudes an aroma of lilies and something sweet like pastries. Its hem has been cleanly sliced through.

Hurriedly, as if their minutes of privacy are counted, she unfolds a letter through the cleanly sliced margin atop the envelope. Her eyes race across the page. "This is bad, Jimin."

"It's bad?" He braces a hand on his hip, feeling the sudden-onset of queasiness with the knife of guilt twisting further into his gut. "So bad-bad? As in bad from all perspectives?"

She nods, but continues to skim the writing.

"Ah, shit." He rakes his other hand through his hair, tossing it out of his sight and coming it back. "I only stepped into his office for the keys to lock the back door. I caught sight of it. My hands were on it before I could will myself against it. I couldn't put it back down, tormented with curiosity."

"Well, you should've." Concluded, she folds the letter back on its creases, stuffs it back into the snug envelope.

"That's when I heard him approach, so I panicked. When he opened the door, I stuffed it into my pocket - pure instinct - so that he wouldn't see me holding it and suspect something."

He means to pace, but the space is limited. Instead, he braces both arms against a shelf. Needs to feel reminded of something sturdy, stable, lest he hurl.

"I meant to return it, I really did. The longer I held it, I just couldn't help but think how useful it could be to know what's inside. A means to ensure both ends of communication coincide. To make sure the staged Namjoon social media discussions aren't mentioned in the letters. To...to...-" He's stammering for justifications but falling short. "Knowing what sort of things they talk about could make our play of him more like the real thing, right?"

Norah shuts her eyes and hangs her head, arms limp by her sides. "You have to dispose of it. He can never find out." She hates to rob Namjoon of the contents he likely never got to read. Hates to make this a ripped page of their love-story.

"But, why?" He turns to face her. "I could just shove it beneath the stack he keeps atop his desk."

"Namjoon rarely sponsors the impractical." Her eyes flutter open. She traces the sliced margin for punctuation. "He uses his nimble fingers to slice through his envelopes. He's haphazard, like that. Thinks it more genuine, more lived. Thinks it impractical to invest in a piece of metal whose sole purpose is to slice paper, only to misplace it when he knows he could just pop a kitchen drawer open and find the same thing, or use his fingers."

"He might not notice," he's dubious to her argument. "He's got enough things on his mind to not notice."

"Do you really want to take the chance?"

He resumes his squared position against the shelf. Feels a dense lump materialize in his throat. Tries to swallow it back, expecting the nausea to wane.

Norah voices his conscience, "We are playing with hearts here. Are you sure you want to continue?"

She can voice her loud opinion all she wants in a bid to sway him towards a desirable response, but she doesn't. She vows to be his willing accomplice.

The thing is that Jimin is more similar to Namjoon than either care to recognize. They are both over-workers with too much piled over their plates to notice the grapes that roll off the edges, bouncing on the floor by their dashing feet.

Jimin wants to find Namjoon someone to lean on.

Norah wants to be that for Jimin. It's not a spoken thing. Frankly, it might not even be that obvious to Norah herself. She just finds herself tangled up with him in the self-made chaos. Finds it good reason enough for it to be for him.

"I mean good, Nor. I really do."

"I know you do. It's just a dangerous game we’re playing. I want you to be conscious of that."

"I am."

As a consequence of being a college drop-out, who stayed complacent in his small hometown, and knocked up the first girl he ever developed feelings for, Jimin juggles two jobs on the regular, a means to an end, to adjoin paychecks with the demands of life.

He'd juggle three if sleep weren't collecting interest, indebting him at an exponential rate.

The kind of fatigue that has no decency in waiting until your face collides with the cool pillow at night. The kind that commands and gets what its due whenever, wherever, however.

Mondays through Thursdays he works at Halley's, then rushes home to spend quality time with his daughter, run groceries, comply with the daily upkeep of home and its chores.

On the weekends, when he gets off Halley's - around 5 PM - he boards the public shuttle to bartend at a local bar. That bar shift runs until midnight, sometimes later, depending on the need for coverage, and the willingness to sacrifice a couple hours of sleep for a healthy tip.

Tonight, he's heavy with fatigue, sleep debt compounded in his brain, slowing the traffic of thoughts, comprehension. Still, he doesn't let it show past the obvious taxes on his physique - sunken dark circles beneath the eyes, small capillaries angered against their whites.

He sighs, "Hey," mirroring Norah's greeting from across the apartment. Locks the door behind him with a symphony of clicks and strolls her way in a practiced sequence.

In a way that resembles a paper being folded by the grooves and creases into origami, the edges of his mouth fold into a kind, but tired smile. The kind of paper that's been folded enough times to near tearing at the next crease.

Norah's hands are steady and delicate, as is her tone. "Tired?"

"I'm ok." He always says that, though, and always drifts into deep sleep right next to her on the couch, laptop still laid on his lap.

"Should we call it a day? We can always raincheck."

"It's nothing a shower can't fix." He shakes his head, hair stirring over dim eyes. A sudden yawn commands his mouth.

Unfolding her legs and draping them over the edge of couch, she starts up. "I'll start whipping something up to keep us awake."

As she clicks the switch of the kitchen lights, and bathes in the sudden flash of illuminance, she hears the thud of Jimin's knees against the wood floor accompanied with a long-drawn sigh, "My baby Byeol."

He flushes the bridge of his nose against the plump cheek of the baby. Inhales the untarnished scent of youth, of purity, of her hypoallergenic bodywash.

He realizes he'd been wrong earlier.

A shower wouldn't fix anything, but this, this little creature could dismiss all the ache in his joints, lax all the tension held in his muscles.

"You finish that set of monarch earrings?" Jimin tosses a towel over his head, grips at the frayed ends on his nape, on his forehead, extracting excess moisture. The excited drops splatter onto the collar of his sweatshirt.

Norah lays Byeol into her crib. Combs the silky, floss-like hair at the top of her head. Grabs a baby monitor radio from the adjacent nightstand.

"Most of it-" she bites a yawn." Only need to take pictures and edit them for upload."

A sudden pop emanates from his knees as soon as Jimin crouches by the coffee table of his living room. The wooden face of it is superimposed by clutter - Byeol’s enrichment toys, baby bottles, two different sets of binkies, unopened mail, uncategorized purchase receipts and jewelry beads. 

Norah joins him, resting her weight on knees that will quickly grow sore. Starts picking at the clutter, shrinking it item by item, starting with her jewelry-making kit. 

The click of the colored bead collapsing into its plastic compartment resounds through the quiet space. It grows dense, shies away from echoing, the more beads are added. 

Jimin tears an envelope and is reminded of the day’s earlier events. Of prying open the private exchanges of Namjoon and his pen-pal girl. Parallels, only he’s not as ginger with his water bill as he was with his friend’s heart. Instead of slicing it thinly with a blade, he digs one finger into the cleft on the edge and rips haphazardly, mentally guessing how high it’ll be this month. 

He’s got his brows creased into a pinch that resembles the one at the collar of his laundered shirt. He’d always ensure to prioritize keeping up with laundry, the same could not be said about folding and sorting the laundry. Too much like Sisyphus's burden. Instead, he’d let the laundry pile on the drying racks. 

They’d be stale and stiff by the time he got around to claiming them. But at least they no longer reeked. 

Lips into a robust pout, his eyes skim the content of the letter. Quickly, urgently, not bothering to hone in on the formal headers. They land on the end of the page resolutely. He holds the amount in his vision for a second, two, shuts his eyes with the raise of his brows, and folds down the letter like an accordion. Insert it back into its envelope. 

His figure is cast in the indiscreet yellow light from the ceiling fixation. It pours over him like honey. Its shadows casted onto the sunken spaces of his under eyes.There’s a flurry of freckles over the bridge of his nose. Partly from age, partly from the sun, and partly genetic in origin. 

Though tired, his hands are steady while collecting and assorting beads. Helping her with the burden.

They huddle up on the couch once things are assorted into semi-coherent piles on the coffee table.

Norah made iced lattes to power through. From prior experience, she knows the high will only last until about 3:30 AM, which isn't too far off. So if they want to make any progress on this Namjoon operation, they have to hone in focus. Short bursts of significant productivity.

It's hard to, though, when sleep seems so much more enticing. When Jimin's warmly pressed into her side. When all she wants is to rest her head on his shoulder and let her eyelids droop.

Moisture clings to the pads of Jimin's stubby fingers from having held his drink. He mindlessly wipes them onto his shirt. Resumes impatiently pressing keys on the old laptop, attempting to start it up from the depths of inactivity.

Its every inch is covered with stickers and logos accumulated through the years. Within ten minutes, it starts to burn Jimin's lap.

He positions a cushion beneath it to remedy the problem, just as the loading circle disappears and the screen finally illuminates with the home screen.

Opening a search engine, he navigates to Instagram. Namjoon's new social profile. He'd hurl if he came to know, having been against the capitalist agenda shoved down throats by brands and trends there.

Ironically, he's a part of that capitalist economy. Makes a living off convincing people to purchase his (food) service. But he'd argue he's in the business of selling an experience, of cultivating memories, not in the greedy selling of an overpriced product.

Maybe the diner would be better off if he would only bend down, comply with the trends of the modern day, learn the language of the 21st century.

"But that's exactly what I want to gift people," he'd say, caught in the passion of his mission, eyes glassed over and distant. "Nostalgia. Pre-internet innocence. The antiquity of a used book in your hands, the texture of the stained parchment. The raw sound of a record on a turntable. The crackle of the jukebox as soon as the coin descends into its slot. Something they can only experience and live, not fabricate on their phones."

As the puppet masters, Jimin and Norah's jobs are to funnel the connection between Namjoon and his mystery girl. Act like catalysts for something that's been building at a a snail's pace over the course of months through letters. Though romantic, indirect and impractical, so Jimin views it.

He'd attempt to establish a connection with mystery girl via direct messages. Arrange for a date where her only job is to show up. Namjoon would be there, oblivious. He hasn't quite figured out the specifics of it like how exactly he'd manage to declaw Namjoon from his busy schedule long enough to take time for himself, for being idle, for exploring the town. Or how he'd keep him from turning around after catching on to the situation.

"We'll cross that bridge once we get there."

"What do we do tonight, then?" Norah sips her drink. Places it back on the ring of moisture on the coffee table. It's starting to take effect. A heat unfurling and holding in her chest, quickening her pulse. Thoughts materializing in her mind faster than she can keep track of the streams of reason.

"We start uploading the pictures we've taken of him. Make his profile believable. But not all at once because then it would seem too much like a spam account."

"This may sound entirely evil and conniving, but what if we upload a quote from the book they mentioned in the letter you tore-"

He gawks.

"You know what you did," she scolds him with a stern look that makes him shift his attention back onto the screen.

"For someone who holds herself on a high moral horse, you sure seem experienced. Hidden mastermind in there, huh?"

"Respecting your friend's privacy is not high morality. It's basic knowledge." She flicks his forehead with her middle finger.

"Alright!" he throws his head back against the couch. It rebounds lightly against the cushion. He'll never live that down. "I fucked up. I shouldn't have even stepped into the office. I should have left the back door open for anyone to sneak in."

Baby Byeol's fast asleep on the monitor propped up on the table across from the couch. Chest rising and falling in a steady but swift pace. Tiny little set of lungs working hard through the night.

The coffee is now more parts water than caffeine or milk. The contents diluted by melted ice. They'd meant to finish it, just as they'd meant to upload at least two posts, but their eyelids had grown leaden with slumber.

Norah had spiraled down a rabbit hole on the internet trying to find the perfect book quote to caption the first post.

Jimin's wrist had grown sore flexed over the keyboard. His lap had become sensitive to the heat of the cushion and the ancient machine. He'd repositioned it onto the seat beside him and their necks started to hurt instead.

Now it's possibly the darkest hour of night. The pitch-black stillness caught between dusk and dawn. Not a single sound of the activity of civilization making itself known, not even a stray car whirring outside the front windows.

Only the soft breath of Jimin on Norah's cheek.

Dimming the brightness on her phone, she confirms the time she'd suspected. Attempts to stir out of his hold without interrupting his sleep. She has to her benefit the fact that he's a deep sleeper, and that sleep's collecting its debt.

Just as she thinks she's about to get away, slip out the front door with the swiftness of a night-cloaked thief, there comes a gentle tug at her wrist.

"Stay," Jimin's voice croaks, all groggy and thick with rest. "It's too dark. Too late. Sleep here."

"That will be the third night this week. I need to visit home. Shower."

He stirs, propping his weight onto his elbow to make sure he doesn't let his eyes drift shut before he convinces her to stay. Sure, this conversation might seem hazy like a dream, ambiguous as to whether its real, but he won't take the risk of her leaving so late. "There's a bathroom here. Steal clothes from my closet. Just stay. Home will be there tomorrow."

Something in her stirs. Something about this exchange makes her think otherwise.

Home's here.

Home's him.

"Fine." She drops her bag from her shoulder.

Jimin smiles, eyes closed.

Slides off the couch. Sleep-drunk, he stumbles down the corridor leading to his bedroom. Norah follows.

He takes the opportunity to lean down and check on Byeol. An angel cast in the moonglow streaking in through the windows.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ i'm not entirely convinced with the last third of this chapter. might come back later and change alot of it but for now it is this or nothing.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ if you're a oth girly, and if you care to know, i realize jimin and norah's actions are reminiscent of brooke setting peyton up on lustfactor in S2 and i think it's hilarious that oth is bleeding into my subconscious from how much i rewatch it

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ shoutout to that clever army that once pointed out how jimin was made out of love and not a quick nut. sista, you were speaking facts!

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ the ode to jimin continues >>

Sweet Serendipity (Jimin x Faerie!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language, brief mention of assault (very brief), POV switching

Word Count: 6K

“I swear to God,” Jimin mumbles to himself, grabbing the giant textbook Namjoon had left when he spent the night and smacks it repeatedly against the wall, “if they don’t shut up, I’m going to kill someone.” 

This wasn’t the first time he had thrown empty threats into the air when his neighbors got too rowdy. In fact, this was a normal occurrence for him. 

Neighbors start being assholes, Jimin finds anything he can to beat the shit out of his walls with in hopes they’ll get the message, surprise-surprise, they don’t, and the cycle starts all over again. 

Oh, how he wished he hadn’t signed a long-ass lease so he could just move away and forget those idiots ever existed, but fate had other plans for him, plans that included him being miserable for the next year with no way out of it. 

Huffing back to the couch, the incessant noise plaguing his every sense, Jimin pulls out his phone and brings up a text conversation. 

Me

      -Kook, you busy? Assholes next door are at it again, could really use a break.

He sends the text and tucks his phone back into his pocket, opting to plug his headphones in and turn the volume on his laptop up so loud, either he won’t be able to hear them over the movie, or he’ll blow his eardrums. At this point, it’s a win-win. 

A few hours pass, his movie long forgotten, and Jimin may or may not be trying to smother himself with a pillow as he lays sprawled across his bed. He checks his phone for the 10th time in the last hour, and decides Jungkook is definitely not getting back to him, and he’ll have to suffer alone. 

As if it’s not bad enough he has to deal with mind-numbing noise all day every day, but add on his best friend never. fucking. answering him? What did he ever do to deserve this? And what if it was an emergency, and Jungkook was the only thing between life and death for Jimin? Well, he hopes it never comes down to that, because he honestly has little-to-no faith left in the kid.

Day slowly fades to night and Jimin thinks he’s actually, truly going insane. He wants more than anything to find the courage to march next door, slam the door open, and tell them to shut the fuck up.

He would not find it today, though, and goes through his normal night routine before putting his headphones on as he crawls into bed. Soft melodies drown out the noise as he slowly succumbs to his exhaustion. 

Maybe tomorrow would be a new day.

—

Jimin was still waiting for that ‘new day’ a week later. The past few days had been so bad he’d decided to hang out with Namjoon in his dorm, which he never did. Another thing on his list of hates: Joon’s dorm. It was loud, but not as loud as his apartment complex, so he was thankful for that. The worst part about it was Joon’s annoying roommate. 

He’d tried to get a single, but was put in a double last minute, no chance to pick a roommate. So, he was stuck with some annoying ass guy who left his shit all over the room and constantly had people coming in and out. 

Namjoon usually escaped to Jimin’s place when he couldn’t take it anymore, but at this point, it was a double ended blade. 

So, they would suffer together in the lesser of the two evils. 

“I wish we could just get a place together. Then we wouldn’t have to deal with all these idiots.” Jimin ends his rant with a loud huff, even though he knew there was no use. Rent anywhere close to campus was way too expensive for both of their budgets, and then there was the whole lease thing still looming over Jimin’s head like a freaking noose. 

Namjoon gives his friend a small sympathetic smile before turning back to his textbook. 

Midterms were coming fast and he wanted to be 100% prepped and ready. He wouldn’t tell Jimin that he really needed to study and that they could hang another time. Just by looking at him, Joon could tell he was at his wits end. 

“Why don’t you go down to the manager and complain again?” Namjoon knows he’s just grasping straws here, but he had to try something. 

He didn’t like seeing Jimin slinking around all sad and wallowing. He missed the upbeat, bright spark that made his friend the spitfire he truly is. That complex was trying to snuff him out, but Namjoon wouldn’t have it.

“I’ve filed multiple complaints and they don’t do shit.” Jimin crosses his arms, growing more infuriated at the situation by the second.

“Maybe this time will be different?” Jimin just rolls his eyes and grabs his stuff.

“If you wanted me to leave, you could’ve just said so.” He doesn’t wait for Namjoon to react, slamming the door behind him and heading home. Ha, ‘home.’ 

That place would never be a home to Jimin.

Despite his reluctance at putting any more faith in the poor management of his complex, he figures it can’t hurt to stop in and let them know the noise hasn’t stopped. 

“We are aware. We are looking into it.” 

That was it, that was always it. He couldn’t even bother being angry, it just wasn’t worth it anymore. Instead of taking the elevator, he opts for the stairs to give himself time to mentally prepare. 

By the time he gets to his floor, he’s a little out of breath, but in the distance he can hear the noise already wafting through the halls. It sucks every remaining drop of energy from his body, and he all but drags himself to his door, cringing at how loud the noise is when right next to it. 

After locking the door and abandoning his stuff on the floor he throws himself onto his bed, covers his head with a pillow and falls asleep.

His dreams are filled with glorious images of moving out, living in a peaceful place, and never having to see or hear his neighbors ever again. 

—

Jimin decides the next few weeks are a good time to pull a Jungkook and ghost everyone. 

He doesn’t answer Namjoon when he texts and asks him if he’s alright.

He doesn’t answer Hoseok’s calls about dance class.

He doesn’t even answer the door when Jungkook finally does show up. 

“Come on Chim, I just want to make sure you’re still alive.” Kook raps on the door a few more times, pressing his ear to the wood when he hears footsteps. 

“Like you care, I could’ve been dead for days and you wouldn’t have noticed.” Jimin doesn’t open the door, instead yells through the wall while he makes himself a cup of coffee. 

 Staying in bed every day was actually making him more tired than being up, which he didn’t think was possible.

Kook just laughs, twisting the locked handle a few times, “Chim, I’m sorry, just let me innnnnnn.” He drags it out in hopes Jimin will get annoyed and open the door. 

It doesn’t happen though, Jimin just goes back to his bed, cuddling up in the blankets before yelling back, “Nope, go find someone else to bother.” 

At least now Jungkook could let the others know Jimin is indeed still alive, just throwing himself a pity party. Jimin can be dramatic sometimes, so it’s not really a surprise when he pulls out the theatrics. 

“Alright, I’ll leave you to your misery.” Kook is disappointed his friend doesn’t want his help right now, but he knows that sometimes Jimin just needs to be alone for a while to get over things.

After Jungkook leaves, Jimin decides he can at least text everyone that he is in fact alive so they won’t show up at his door again. Once it’s sent, he unpauses the movie he was watching and continues his wallow fest. 

It’s the next day when he notices that there hasn’t been a noise, not even a peep from his neighbors. 

He’s getting dressed after a long shower, heading into the kitchen to grab some breakfast before he forces himself to go see the boys, when he realizes, ‘I haven’t heard anything from next door this whole week.’

It’s enough to sufficiently freak him out and question his sanity. They have been loud as hell since Jimin moved in, no quiet since then, so what the hell was going on?

Deciding to skip breakfast, he grabs his keys and jacket, heading out the door when he takes a quick glance at the next door over. It looked exactly the same, the only change being a cute little doormat at the door. 

While it was a little odd, considering he’s pretty sure there are a bunch of guys living next door, and that doormat screams ‘girl,’ it’s not enough to make him think anything drastic has happened. 

‘Maybe one of them got a girlfriend,’ he thinks to himself, even though he’s not sure how that could be possible with how awful they are. 

Jimin doesn’t want to waste any more time thinking about his neighbors, heading to the elevator and out to meet the guys to hang for the day.

“Ah, the Great Park Jimin, he lives!” Jin yells, causing Yoongi and Namjoon to shake their heads in embarrassment as the other three whoop and holler like it was Jimin’s homecoming. 

Needless to say, it was nice to be around his favorite people after walling himself away for over a week. 

He needed to let himself let loose and have some fun or he was sure he was going to actually lose it. 

They ended up spending the whole day just walking around, doing a little shopping, and enjoying each others company. The boys are a family, so they couldn’t go very long without getting together. 

They all part ways a block away from Jimin’s building, Jungkook heading with Jimin after promising to spend the night if Jimin helps him beat a new level in one of his favorite video games. 

The walk back is full of laughs and the two of them play fighting each other, until they see one of Jimin’s neighbors in a moving truck parked outside the building. Jimin nudges Jungkook, pointing at the truck and Kook just watches on, confused.

Another one of his neighbors exits the building with a box, hefting it into the back of the truck and promptly hops in the passenger side, the truck taking off.

“Did I just see that right?” Jimin asks out loud, to no one particular, maybe Kook or maybe the universe. They climb the steps and enter the lobby, Jimin quickly heading over to the front desk to ask about the situation.

“Yeah, they’ve been in the process of leaving for a few weeks now, finally got the rest of their stuff out today.”

“That’s amazing-“ Jimin didn’t mean to sound as excited as he was at the neighbors leaving, but he couldn’t help himself.

“There’s already a new tenant, she moved her stuff in fast.”

Jimin’s ears started to turn red at the tips; he’d never lived next door to a girl before. 

“A girl?” Jungkook butts into the conversation all too excitedly, causing the woman at the desk to roll her eyes.

“She’s kind of weird though,” the woman mutters to herself, loud enough for the boys to hear her.

Jimin doesn’t care if she’s weird, at least his awful neighbors were finally gone and he’d have some peace and quiet. Jungkook doesn’t care if she’s weird, because it’s a girl; his best friend lives next to a girl.

Jimin has to hold Kook by his collar, almost like he was on a leash, just to reign him in and stop him from running up to your door.

Jimin unlocks his own door, shoving Jungkook inside before pausing in the doorway to glance over to the door next to him. 

A girl, huh?

That night, Jungkook gets bored after wasting an hour trying to hear anything from your side of the wall and settles on getting his game on. Jimin makes them some popcorn for the long quest ahead, but finds himself drawn out onto the terrace before he sits down to join Kook. 

As he slides open the door, he looks over to your terrace to see a flash of hair as your door promptly shuts, curtains drawing to hide you from the world.

Jimin just stares at your door, watching the curtain sway back and forth, hoping that maybe you’d come back out and he’d get to see you. 

After a few minutes, Jungkook is yelling at him to get his butt inside and help him beat some boss, and Jimin can’t help but let his curiosity grow as he wonders what the girl next door is like. 

—

Jimin is the first to wake up the next morning, promptly shoving Jungkook away from, even though he’s pretty sure he told him to sleep on the couch. Rubbing his eyes, he makes his way out to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of juice when he notices the corner of a paper sticking out from under his door. 

The closer he gets, he smells the scent of freshly baked goods floating from the hallway. As he opens the door, he looks down to see a little basket with a pink napkin over the top.

Jimin’s never gotten anything at his door before, so he’s rightfully confused, looking up and down the hallway for a sign of who might’ve left this for him.

Kneeling down to look in the basket, he moves the napkin to find a few little sweet buns, each with their own little decoration.

They’re cute and they smell absolutely delicious, but he’s paranoid that he doesn’t know who left them. It’s when he picks the basket up he notices the paper sat underneath it. 

It’s a small note, ‘From your new neighbor.’ You even signed it with a little heart, but no name.

Jimin looks from the note to your door, no sign of life from behind it and decides it would be rude to leave them out in the hall. 

He sets the basket down on the counter, fishing around one of the kitchen drawers until he finds a pen and a pad of sticky notes.

‘Thank you for the treats. -Jimin’ It was short and simple, just to let you know he appreciated it. Returning to the hall, he sticks the note to your door, letting his fingers linger on the wood before he turns back to his own place.

Jungkook could apparently smell them from Jimin’s room, walking out wide-eyed as he surveyed the basket.

“You have a secret admirer or something I don’t know about Chim?” Jimin can feel his cheeks heat up the slightest at Kook’s comment, but brushes it off.

“Just a gift from the new neighbor.” As soon as he hears ‘neighbor’, Jungkook starts making faces at Jimin, teasing him that they’d meet and fall in love and all that romantic mushy crap.

Jimin just promptly shoves one of the buns in Kooks face, to which he happily takes in his mouth. 

The best way to get Jungkook to shut up? Give him food.

A few hours go by and Jungkook decides he’s gonna head home, so Jimin walks him out, mostly to be a good friend, but also to check your door and see if you had gotten his note. 

When he comes back up from the lobby, the note is gone and a new one lies on his door.

‘You’re welcome, I hope you liked them,’ scrawled neatly across the pink stationary, a little bee and heart in the corner. It was so cute, everything regarding you so far was cute. Your door mat, your baked goods, your handwriting, Jimin could only wonder how cute you were. 

He again grabs his paper and writes another note, sticking it to your door in the same place. 

As he touches the paper to the door, he hears shuffling in your apartment. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to stick his ear up to the door to listen for you. Instead he waits to make sure you won’t come out while he’s standing there like a weirdo, and then turns back to his apartment, escaping inside. 

Jimin hears your door open and close, a part of him kicking himself for not staying to see you in person. He just had a feeling, though, that you’d meet face to face when the moment was right, and this wasn’t it. So, he’d push away the nagging thoughts and opt for some quiet time in front of the TV for a while instead. 

The hope that he’d get to see your face someday soon was enough to keep him awake almost all night. 

—

‘Why were you screaming at your TV?’ Was all the note said, besides a little laughing emoji in the bottom corner. Jimin just chuckles a bit to himself before grabbing another note from his door to write you a new one.

‘Because, the characters in my show are the worst!’ Up it goes in the same place, just like the many that came before.

It’d been a few weeks since the note passing had started, and you and Jimin were closer than every, well, in theory. 

It started with little gifts you’d leave in front of each others doors, along with little notes. Then it was a note every day, sometimes even multiple a day. The more notes shared between the two of you, the bolder you were getting. 

You’d play your music a little louder after Jimin praised your taste, watch the same movie at the same time so it was like you were watching it with him. Sometimes he’d even whisper goodnight to you through the wall, which you always replied back to.

The giddiness in his heart had grown tenfold, and the anticipation of seeing you in person was growing. 

He’d left a note for you a week and a half ago asking when he could see you, actually see you, to which you only replied, ‘soon.’ 

Hoseok called early this morning to ask Jimin if he could come in and help with classes all day, to which Jimin was happy to do. He was happier to do a lot of things, now that his living situation had done a complete 180. The boys all noticed the extra pep in his step once you two had started leaving notes for each other, and while Namjoon was wary that it could all be too good to be true, the rest were just glad he wasn’t a mope anymore. 

The day was exhausting considering Jimin hadn’t formally been back to the studio for a week or two, but it felt good to move and stretch his muscles again. He was remembering how fun life can be when he’s not miserable all the time. 

Hanging with Hoseok while teaching some youth dancers a new routine was exactly what Jimin needed right now, just mindless fun and some time to be a leader. He liked having the young dancers look up to him and enjoy learning with him.

When the day finally came to a close, Hoseok offers to get Jimin a ride, but Jimin decides he rather likes the cool air on his sweaty skin and tells him he’ll just walk home. The studio isn’t too far from his place and he likes to watch the cars pass by illuminated by the streetlights.

Jimin gets lost in his thoughts; about class, about the next scheduled outing with the boys, even about you. 

He doesn’t even realize it, but he’s smiling to himself just thinking about what note you could possibly have left him tonight. Maybe tonight would be the night he’d get to meet you properly. 

All of his thoughts, though, get set aside when he sees a girl, roughly his age, being harassed by some sleazy guy outside of his building. 

—

You hadn’t planned on going out this evening, figuring there was enough to do inside to keep you occupied. It was when you realized you were out of sugar for the cookies you wanted to bake for Jimin that you decided it couldn’t hurt to take a quick trip to the supermarket down the street. 

You pull on your sweatshirt, hiking the hood up over your head, grabbing your bag and keys, and head out. You take a quick peek at your door to see the note Jimin left behind. 

You smile as you read it, stuffing it in your pocket and heading out. 

The walk to the market and buying the sugar was easy. It was still kind of light out when you left, and nobody had approached you while you scoured the market for the sugar. 

It was the walk home that ruined everything. 

Sometimes you cursed yourself for how you always seemed to draw in the worst people. While you also could attract the nicest of people, it seemed that the bad ones were easier and in abundance. 

On your way back, bag of sugar in one hand, your keys in the other, you could feel the sensation of someone watching you. You didn’t want to seem paranoid, so you just picked up pace and kept your eyes locked ahead. 

It was when you could finally see the steps of the building in your vision that you felt a hand wrap around your forearm, yanking you backwards.

Stupidly enough, you couldn’t force yourself to scream, you just yelped at the searing force the figure used and tried to rip yourself from him.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out so late by yourself.” You didn’t want to look at the man, his voice sending chills down your spine and the air thickening so much around you, you felt like you were suffocating. 

For some reason, people lost their sense of boundaries when around you, which you didn’t understand at all. It’s like people felt like they owned you almost, like the air you put off gave them the right to act like you owed them something. 

Your mother always credited it to your blind generosity and kindness, but sometimes things just went too far. 

“Leave me alone, please.” Your voice was soft and tight, holding back your tears as best you could. You didn’t want to seem like you were utterly defenseless. 

As your grip on your keys tightened, enough to, with the right movement, hit the guy to get away, a voice cuts through the air.

“Hey, she said leave her alone.” Your head shoots to the side, a boy with brown hair and a black sweatshirt coming into your vision. His features were soft and delicate, but the look on his face showed stone-cold seriousness. 

He slowly approached, looking at how the man’s hand was coiled tightly around your arm. Lifting one hand up in defense, he looks from you to the man, “Look, just let go and get out of here, there’s a security guard right in the building, so just let it go man.” 

The sleaze looks from the boy, to you, to the building. It’s then that he sees the security cameras trained on him that he promptly lets go of you, shoving you to the ground and taking off. 

  The boy rushes over to you, calmly as not to startle you more than you already were and grabs your hands, helping you to your feet. 

You look down at the busted bag of sugar on the sidewalk and sigh, letting a few tears slip out on accident. 

You were frustrated to say the least, why could people be so awful?

The boy picks up the bag, trying not to spill too much more out of it and turns to you.

“Are you okay?” He watches a single tear slip down your cheek and his heart clenches in his chest. How dare some asshole hurt someone, especially an innocent girl like you. 

You shake yourself to bring yourself back to reality and attempt a pathetic smile, “I’m fine. Thank you for that. You didn’t have to.” You go to take the bag from his hands but he pulls it closer to him.

“Yes I did, no one deserves to be attacked like that.” 

He looks in your eyes for a moment, assuring you that he wouldn’t have acted any other way than helping you. It was what any good person would do; what any decent person would do. 

“Well, thank you, again. I can take that,” you say, pointing to the bag settled in his arms. 

He shakes it a bit, forgetting the split and sending more sugar to the concrete. You can’t help but let out a little giggle at how his face drops when he realizes what he’d done. 

“I can carry it for you, then you won’t have to walk alone.” He smiles, bright and it’s contagious, spreading a smile to your lips. 

You shift your body and point to the building ahead, “That’s okay, I live right here anyways.”

His eyes beam wide, “Wait, you live here?” He asks excitedly.

“Yeah, why?”

“So do I!” He exclaims, following you as you ascend the steps into the lobby. He follows you to the elevator, stepping in behind you. He goes to push the button to his floor after you push yours, but he realizes you just pushed the same button.

“You live on the fourth floor too?” You turn to look at him, shock present on both of your faces. 

You’re wondering who this mystery guy might be, both nervous and excited about all these crazy coincidences. It’s when he follows you to your door, which resides right next to his, that you both stare at each other, it finally hitting you.

“Jimin?” You ask, and he nods. You can’t help the butterflies erupting in your stomach, finally face to face with the boy next door.

Jimin was about to pass out, his inner self jumping up and down, screaming, everything to celebrate finally meeting his neighbor, but on the outside, he tries to play it cool.

“You never actually told me your name,” he says, looking at you expectantly. 

Slowly bringing your hand out to him, you hold it out, “Y/N.” 

He grasps your hand in a light shake, fingers lingering a bit longer than they should have.

He clears his throat, lifting the bag to point to your door, “Maybe we should take this inside?” 

You turn and unlock your door, mentally preparing yourself for the fact that you were letting someone into your home for the first time. How crazy that the first person you’d invite inside would be the mystery neighbor you were dying to meet?

Jimin sets the sad sack of sugar on your counter, cringing when it spills out onto the surface, but you just shake your head and tell him it’s fine. 

“So, you're the girl who saved me from the awful people that used to live here?”

He’s standing awkwardly by the door, unsure if it’s alright to come in and make himself at home or not. You’re not sure how to interact with strangers in your home, but Jimin at least wasn’t a total stranger. 

“Guilty as charged, I guess.” He smiles when you let another giggle escape.

“Do you want to,” you gesture to the tea kettle on the stove, “stay for tea?” 

  Jimin spots the time on your oven and realizes how late it is. He promised Namjoon he’d meet him at the library early tomorrow morning, and he also just now realizes how gross and sweaty he is from class. 

“It’s actually pretty late, I should probably head to bed.” He hates himself, more than he ever has at any other moment in his life.

He’d finally come face to face with the girl whose been occupying his every thought, and he’s turning down time to spend with her?

When he looks at your face, you’re not upset with him like he expects you to be.

“Another time then, it’s not like it’s a far walk from your place to mine.” Another giggle that sends shivers up and down his spine, red tinging the tips of his ears.

“Right, absolutely.” You smile at each other, not sure where to go from there. Jimin turns around, grabbing the edge of your door, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Your cheeks flush pink, warmed by the amount of concern lacing every word.

“Yes, Jimin, I’m fine, thanks to you.” He can feel his entire face heat up and he wants to turn away so you won’t see.

“Goodnight Y/N,” he says quickly, walking forward, pulling the door with him.

“Goodnight Jimin.” And then the door shuts.

You hear him open and close his door, huff loudly into most likely a pillow and you presume he must have went to take a shower. 

The walls weren’t the thickest in this complex, so it didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Lifting the bag off the counter, you set it in the sink to take care of tomorrow. 

You can just make Jimin cookies and take them to him tomorrow as well. 

—

The more time you spent actually hanging around Jimin, the more you found yourself opening up. You’d always been quite introverted, hiding yourself away in your home.

Jimin made opening up fun. You would go over to his place, watch him play video games or make him dinner after you’d found out he basically lived off of take-out. 

He’d come over to your place and insist on watching you bake, even helping out when you told him you’d teach him how to make those sweet buns you'd left for him the first day.

Notes were replaced with actual words, whether that be you or him barging into each other’s places to rant about something stupid on TV or yelling playfully at each other through the walls. 

It was like having a roommate you didn’t really share the living space with. 

You’d both grown so comfortable with each other over time, it was like you’d been best friends for years. 

You’d show up in your pajamas to watch movies and sometimes he’d barge in to your place dripping wet wrapped only in a towel to steal your shampoo because his had ‘run out.’ In actuality, he just liked the smell of yours better. 

He introduced you to his friend group rather quickly, and you’d found yourself sucked in immediately. 

Taehyung would chase Jungkook around Jimin’s place to avenge the food he’d steal from your plate, while Namjoon would come up with clever ways you could get rid of both of them without anyone knowing. 

You’d even let Yoongi sleep on your couch a few times after he’d fall asleep during a movie you’d all be watching. 

They were like family to you in an instant and you felt so at home with them, more than you’d ever had with anyone in your life before. 

Jimin loved having you as his best friend and he loved that you’d become his friends’ friend as well. 

The only issue came up when Jimin realized he had non-platonic feelings for you. Of course he had a crush on you when you first met, but as you grew closer, you’d become such good friends that the crush sort of fizzled out. Suddenly, watching you show Jungkook how to ice a cookie, he realized he didn’t like you just as a friend. He liked you. 

Every time he’d try to flirt with you or subtly drop hints of his affection for you, you’d never picked up on it. He was friend zoned again and again and again.

Jimin was too worried about ruining your friendship, so he decided he’d just keep it to himself and move on. You were too important to him to jeopardize what you already had. 

—

Fast forward a few months and bring in Jiwoo, Namjoon’s friend from school, and Jimin thinks he’s finally over his hopeless crush on you. 

Jimin started making plans with Jiwoo, spending more time with just her and leaving you behind. 

You were happy he found someone, especially someone as sweet as Jiwoo. She was everything he needed, she’d be good for him, so you weren’t going to get in the way. 

While you grew lonely the less and less you saw Jimin, you couldn’t blame him for enjoying himself. He deserved to love and be loved.

Luckily, the boys knew that there was something more between you and Jimin, you both were just ‘too dumb,’ in Yoongi’s opinion, to see it.

While Jimin was off with Jiwoo pretending he was over you, the boys decided it was their duty to watch over you and keep you occupied. 

They could tell you were hurting more than you were letting on, especially when Jin stopped in to ask you if you wanted to go get coffee and found you on the couch crying over a romantic movie. 

Of course, not knowing what to do, he told the rest of the guys and ‘Plan: Get the Dummies Together’ (named through the joint effort of Jungkook and Taehyung’s last brain cells) commenced. 

Namjoon didn’t want to interfere at first, but when he saw how sad you looked as you watched Jimin take Jiwoo over to his place, he knew something had to be done, and the other boys couldn’t be trusted to do it right.

According to the plan, Namjoon and Hoseok would occupy Jimin to get him away from Jiwoo as much as possible. During this time, they’d talk mostly about you. 

The rest of the boys were tasked with keeping you happy. Cooking, walks, shopping, it didn’t matter as long as you were smiling and not crying. 

After a few days of initiating the plan, Jimin pulled Namjoon aside to ask him what was going on. They weren’t the best at being subtle, so it didn’t take long for him to catch on.

“You know you’re a literal idiot, right?” Namjoon sighs, Hobi nodding.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin didn’t think his best friends would attack him so openly like this, but he’s more concerned what brought it on than their attitude. 

“Y/N.” Hobi says, the both of them just looking at him like he’d kicked a puppy or something.

There’s a tinge of guilt swirling around in the pit of his stomach, but he forces himself to ignore it, “What about her?”

  “Do I have to spell it out for you? You L-O-V-E her and she L-O-V-E-S you dipshit.”

That takes Jimin by complete surprise. He thought he had been careful about hiding his feelings for you, even developing feelings for someone else to keep them at bay. 

Was there any chance you had felt the same way?

“No I don’t, and no she doesn’t. I’m with Jiwoo.” 

“Exactly. You’re with Jiwoo, but you don’t love her. You love Y/N.” Namjoon is getting more impatient with Jimin the longer he dodges it.

“Of course I don’t,” is all Jimin can get out, too caught up in everything happening at once. Did he really love you? Were his feelings for Jiwoo not real? Did you love him back? Why hadn’t you said or done anything to clue him in on how you felt? He thought he’d been kind of obvious before.

“Then say it, say ‘I love Jiwoo, I don’t love Y/N.’” Joon knows exactly how this will play out, but Jimin needs to hear it from himself. 

“Fine,” Jimin huffs, “I love Y/N, I don’t love Jiwoo-“ he wants to cover his mouth, but Hobi is already jumping around yelling ‘We knew it!,’ and Joon’s just smirking matter-of-factly. 

“And that is why you are an idiot.” Jimin knows what he has to do now, the realization that his heart belongs to someone else weighing heavily. 

Even the spark of hope that you might love him back can’t shield him from the hurt he’s about to cause. 

—

There were a lot of tears, but Jiwoo only said she had a feeling this was going to happen. Apparently Jimin was really bad at hiding his feelings for you, so it was only a matter of time before things had to come to an end. 

In the end, Jiwoo even wished him luck, knowing how much you both meant to each other. She couldn’t be too mad at true love after all.

Jimin was a freaking wreck on the other hand. He wasn’t good at breaking people’s hearts, and it took a toll on him.

He no longer had a girlfriend to make him happy and he didn’t know where you and him stood. 

Since the break-up, he’d noticed how much time you were spending with Jungkook and the others. He didn’t like feeling jealous of his friends, but he couldn’t help it. 

He was too much of a coward to confront you and tell you how he feels, though.

After letting himself be miserable over the break-up for a few days, he comes up with the best way he knows how to talk to you.

Grabbing the pad of paper, abandoned months ago, he writes up a quick note to leave on your door. He walks out, and just as he is about to put the paper up, your door swings open.

Your alone for the first time in a while, the boys coming up with excuses to let you and Jimin have your own time. 

You had planned on going on a walk to get some fresh air when you come face to face with Jimin at your door. 

He looks like a mess, hair disheveled, face stained with tears, and in the same crinkled sweats he’d lived in all week. 

You couldn’t help the pang of sadness twist through your heart. He looked broken. 

“Hey,” was all you manage to get out, in fear you’d crack and make a fool out of yourself. 

“Hey.” Jimin’s voice is rough and dry after crying for so long. He hated how pathetic he looked and sounded in front of you. 

How could you possibly love someone like him?

“Are you okay? Where’s Jiwoo?” You hated yourself for the nasty taste you got in your mouth from saying her name, it wasn’t her fault you waited too long.

“We actually broke up.” He doesn’t cry this time, he just searches your face for a reaction.

While you are sad your friend is hurting, you can’t help the hope blossoming in your chest.

“I’m sorry, you want to talk?” He just nods and rushes forward into your arms. You both missed the feeling of holding each other close, snuggling into one another and letting yourselves be vulnerable. 

You let out a relieved gasp when he clutches tight to you, as if he was afraid you’d dissipate into the air. 

“I should’ve just told you,” he whispers into your shoulder. 

“Tell me what?” You pull your face back from his chest to look at him confused. He just lifts his hand, still clutching the note tightly, and shows it to you.

‘I love you.’

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yes, I know it’s up later than the others, me being late to upload is just going to be a theme for the rest of the week. Anyways, cue the softest, cutest Jimin fanfic have ever written. Not to sound like a broken record, but, I really freaking love this one. Hope all you Chim gals eat your heart out, I hope I did your boy justice. 2 more to go. Stay Spooky!💜

       -Moonie🌙

Behind The Mask//PJM (2/3)

Oneshots Masterlist

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Stylist + Enemies AU

Requested

I'm weak for the enemies to lovers trope so do that lol Jimin x Y/n An Idol AU where Y/n is Jimin's makeup artist and they hate each other (you can decide why) A title idea could be "Behind his Mask"

PLEASE I just read through it all again and this whole thing is so chaotic I don't even know what I'm doing

This might sound dumb but this is one of my favourite oneshots because it's so crackheaded

3.4k Words

You yawned and walked backstage. Most of the members were already there and they greeted you warmly, making you smile.

You hadn't seen them for a while. They didn't have many performances in the past few days and you also worked for the other artists in Bighit. It was nice seeing them after so long.

"Hi~" Someone wrapped their arms around you from behind, resting their chin on your shoulder.

"What the-"

You pushed him off lightly, turning around to face none other than the Park Jimin.

"Come on," he pouted. "Aren't we dating now?"

"That's what the world thinks, unfortunately." You sighed and turned around.

"Why are you acting like that's a bad thing?"

"Because you're going to keep annoying me."

"Correct." He winked at you and sat down in his chair, spinning around in it.

You stopped the chair and made him face towards the mirror. He frowned, tapping his hands on the desk.

"You're energetic today."

"Mhm."

"Any reason?"

"Because I got to see you after so long."

You poked him with the brush, making him scowl. "Talk again and I'll make sure your makeup is ruined."

"You wouldn't. You have too much pride to do that," he laughed.

Godammit he was right.

After the performance he came backstage and immediately ran towards you. He pulled you into a hug, squeezing you. Ignoring your heart (which annoyingly felt like it was going to burst) you decided to lead with a good old observation.

"AGH you're sweaty." You words were muffled into his shirt.

"I know."

"Stop being weird," you muttered, pulling yourself away and trying to hide your flustered face. "Why are you being nice all of a sudden."

"I was always nice. You were the asshole."

"As if."

He smiled, then looked around to check if anyone was watching. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you out the door.

"Hey-"

"Shh I wanna ask you something."

He ran down the hallway, looking for some place you could talk without being interrupted.

"This place is fine," he muttered, opening a closet.

"Hell no."

"Get in before anybody sees."

"I refuse-"

Two minutes later you were both huddled in the closet. You were glaring at him but he didn't seem to notice.

"What was so secret that you had to shove me into a closet?"

"Uhm..."

"What?"

"I just wanted to... show you this... without anyone else seeing. The others would make fun of me."

"What is it?"

He pulled out his phone and slowly turned the screen towards you. It was his texts with his mother.

Mom: You have a girlfriend!?

Mom: Park Jimin how dare you not tell me

Mom: I'm disowning you

You: Mom???

You: You can't disown me

Mom: Try me

You: Mom wait

You: What if I told you she's not actually my girlfriend?

Mom: My son???

Mom: Using some poor girl for clout??

Mom: No

You: What do you mean no??

Mom: I want to meet her

Mom: I haven't seen Y/n in so long

Mom: She was always so sweet

You: SHE TRIED TO KILL ME

You: And how did you know it was Y/n?

Mom: You deserved it

Mom: You were an idiot child

Mom: And honey

Mom: I've been hearing rants about Y/n since the day you started school

Mom: I know who she is

You: This whole thing is fake

You: She's not my girlfriend

Mom: You can't deny love, Jimin

Mom: I want to meet her

You: Mom p l e a s e

"You used to rant about me?" You asked him, amused.

He snatched the phone away, annoyed. "You weren't supposed to read that far."

"Why are we in a closet again?"

"Because if the others heard us talking about this they'd never let me hear the end of it."

"I don't follow. Why?"

"Because... if my mom wants to see you it means she wants us to get married."

"She wants WHAT!?"

Jimin clasped a hand over you mouth, shushing you.

"She's going to get me married the first chance she gets and the others know that," he whispered, not moving away. His hand was still over your mouth and you were way too close in this cramped closet.

You licked his hand, making him shout and pull his hand away.

"Jimin?"

"What."

"You can deal with this on your own."

You opened the closet and stepped out, making sure to lock him inside.

This wasn't your problem. His mother wants him to marry? Good for him. You could grab some popcorn and watch it all happen. "When do you think the janitors will find you?" You asked him, knocking on the door. You received a scream.

Good enough.

You walked away happily, practically skipping down the corridor. He deserved it for acting all sweet earlier.

Five hours later a noticeably dishevelled Jimin slammed open the door to TXT's styling room. All five of the poor boys jumped, swivelling round to stare at Jimin.

"Jimin hyung?" Soobin asked, shocked.

"Somebody told me the witch would be here."

"The witch-?"

Jimin was promptly pushed out by TXT's manager, complaining that they were on a tight schedule and Jimin was interrupting. Jimin waited patiently outside the styling room, not moving until he saw the staff and members come out.

"Y/n's not here," Beomgyu smiled, seeing Jimin.

"Are you kidding me!?" He shouted and walked away, muttering to himself.

Taehyun waited until Jimin had left, then whispered to Beomgyu, "How much did Y/n pay you to dress up as a staff and tell Jimin she'd be here?"

"35 thousand won. Absolutely worth it."

Jimin had pried your address out of a very amused Taehyung, who was probably the second closest to you out of all of them.

He was at your house now, knocking at your door.

He heard a crash and in a few seconds the door was open. You stood there, staring up at him.

"Oh, hi."

"You locked me in a closet."

"So I did."

"For five hours."

"Damn, I thought you'd be there till night." He opened his mouth to shout at you but you interrupted him. "See, I'm very busy right now, so it's best if you go."

"No."

You raised your eyebrow at him and shut the door. He blocked it with his foot.

You kept eye contact with him and smiled. Without breaking your gaze you opened the door wider, then smashed it into his foot, making him yelp. He put one hand on the door and pushed it open, glancing behind you. He momentarily forgot all about being mad at you, and just looked confused as he looked at the mess.

"What have you been doing here?"

You stepped aside so he could see better.

"I was trying to create the ultimate board game by putting them all together, but you surprised me and I toppled them all over."

"This is what you were busy doing?"

"Uhhh yes? Wanna help? I'll let you play."

Jimin thought about it for a second, then stepped in. "We're continuing this conversation afterwards."

"Sure," you smiled, closing the door.

Jimin kneeled on the floor, cringing as the suit he was wearing touched the floor.

"My stylist will kill me if this gets dirty."

"Why are you still wearing that?"

"You locked me in a closet. How was I supposed to change?"

"Right..."

You rushed upstairs and grabbed some clothes from your roommate's room, tossing them into Jimin's arms.

"Clean yourself up, you stink."

"No."

Two minutes later he was back in more comfortable clothes and relatively less stinky. You two got to work, placing all the board games on top of each other, side to side, wherever they would fit. You were trying to create the biggest Monopoly board ever. It wasn't until Jimin pointed out that you didn't have extra stations and stuff that you need in Monopoly that you decided to switch plans.

"Look at this marble," you said, holding one up.

"Hey, didn't you steal that from me in fourth grade!?"

"Not important. We're going to get this baby from there-" you pointed to the top of the stairs, "-to there-" you pointed to kitchen, "-all the way back here. Or wherever it reaches."

"Are you sure you have enough board games and straws?"

You smiled mischievously. "Boy, this isn't even half of them."

You two set to work, cutting straws in half for the marble to travel on. You and your roommate had collected all this random shit for no reason, including straws, papers, post-it-notes belonging to other people, rocks, tapes, silly string cans, empty cans, literally anything you could get your hands on. Now it was all starting to be worth something.

"My roommate is going to be so mad they missed this," you said form the top of the stairs once you two were done.

"You have a roommate? Makes sense. No way you could afford a nice house like this," Jimin said form next to you.

"What, you thought those clothes were mine?"

"Yeah? Now that I think about it there's no way you could have this kind of fashion sense."

"Fuck you. WAIT!" You stopped him from dropping the marble. "We need someone to record this."

"Taehyung?"

"He'll knock it all over accidently."

"Jin? He's flexible, he can dodge the stuff."

"He'll knock it over on purpose."

"Jungkook."

"Jungkook," you nodded.

In a few minutes Jungkook was at your house. He opened the door and you two immediately started shouting for him to stop so he wouldn't knock over the path going in front of the door.

"Woah," he whispered, ducking under it. "What's this?"

"You need to be the cameraman," Jimin said. "Get up here."

Jungkook obliged, taking out his phone. Jimin dropped the marble and you both realised you had made the right choice calling him. He was the only one who could dodge neatly through the mess while recording it perfectly.

Once it was finished he showed you the end result and you and Jimin started screaming, hugging each other.

"WE DID IT!!"

"HELL YEAH WE DID IT!!"

"Hey, I kinda recorded the whole thing," Jungkook pointed out. You told Jungkook he could help himself to the food in the fridge as a thanks, which he was surprisingly satisfied with.

"We did it," you repeated, staring at the mess around you in awe. "I'm not gonna clean this. I'm just- we're gonna live with this."

"A masterpiece," Jimin breathed.

"Masterpiece."

"You guys are still hugging, you know that right?" Jungkook said with a mouth full of burger.

"Hush," Jimin whispered. "It doesn't matter."

For once you were willing to let it happen. So what if you were hugging him? Look at what he had just helped you do.

"I think I'm tearing up," you said, wiping away fake tears.

"What a beautiful sight."

"You guys are insane." Jungkook shook his head, snapping a picture of you two.

"Hush."

The marble ride incident is something that you Jimin boasted about for the rest of the month. Stupid antics pushed aside, you both gushed with pride whenever you saw each other. Jimin had completely forgot about being locked in the closet, which was another bonus (and the reason you kept talking about the marble ride, in hopes that he wouldn't remember)

You two finally shut up about it when Jia threatened to crack your kneecaps, which deeply disturbed the both of you but you weren't going to question it.

So how were things a few month later? Had Jimin, and the rest of the world, finally shut up about you two fake dating?

Haha no

Not even a bit

Jimin still pestered you about it, hugging you and taking your hand randomly. The only reason you hadn't punched him yet was because you didn't want to get fired. You had been lucky the first time, if someone caught you punching Park Jimin, well... game over.

The only good thing was that he was becoming a little more bearable by the day. You two didn't squabble nearly as much, and you sometimes—only sometimes—played along with the fake dating thing. It was fun when you were both joking about it.

Had you been recognized? Twice. Two horrifying times you had been stopped in the street because you were wearing the same clothes you had worn in the video, and fans could recognise you by your chin apparently. Your roommate helped you burn those clothes after the second incident.

Jimin... wasn't all bad? (That still hurt to say) Turns out he could not be an asshole sometimes. You still had no idea why he was so obsessed with the fake dating thing, but you had come up with three conclusions.

1. He's a hopeless romantic

2. He's gone insane

3. He's simply obsessed with you because who isn't? (Most likely this one)

"Y/n?" he asked, coming up behind you backstage.

"Hm?"

"I've got a question."

"Is it to do with you mother and the marriage thing?" You asked. turning around.

"Nah I dealt with that, no thanks to you," he huffed. "Uhm, anyway..."

"Yeah?"

He took something out of his pocket and held it out to you. You looked down at the two movie tickets in his hand then back up to him with narrowed eyes.

"What kind of prank is this?"

"I am offended. Can't a guy take his girlfriend out on a date?"

You turned around and started walking away, but he laughed and grabbed your arm, pulling you back. "Sorry, sorry, I'll stop saying that... for now- UM anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies with me?"

"Why?" You stared at him intently, as if his ulterior motives would be pasted on to his eyes.

"Because... uh-"

You looked down at the tickets and snatched them out of his hands, staring at them closely.

"My Little Pony: Equestria Girls." You raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for an explanation.

"I was supposed to go with my niece but she got sick and can't go."

"Okay and where do I come in this?"

"Well, I paid good money for these tickets, right?"

"You're literally a millionaire," you pointed out, sitting down on the sofa.

"Yeah but my niece specifically asked me to go to the movies with someone else instead." He sat down on the sofa next to you. "And she said, and I quote, 'Go with you dumb girlfriend.'"

"Wow. Rude."

"No, it was supposed to be a compliment. She thinks you're dumb for dating me and not someone 'more in your league' or something like that."

"I'm touched but... I've already watched it," you muttered, turning your face away.

"SINCE WHEN DO YOU WATCH MY LITTLE PONY!?" He screamed, jumping off of the sofa.

"SINCE DAY!"

He groaned and grabbed your shoulders. "Y/n, Y/n out of all the movies you could've watched-"

"I never said I wouldn't watch it again. Let's go I wanna see Rainbow Dash."

"I- okay? Which one's Rainbow Dash again?"

You smiled, averting your eyes. "The purple one."

"No she's the blue one you uncultured swine! With the rainbow hair-" Jimin screamed.

"Well this uncultured swine just just exposed your My Little Pony fanboy ass. Let's go."

"It's a date then."

"I'm coming for Spike and Spike only."

"We'll see about that," he smirked, grabbing your hand and leading you out.

An hour later Jimin was hugging you, his head resting on your shoulder. Was this a sweet moment? Not at all, he was laughing uncontrollably. You were doing your best to look disappointed but even you had to crack a smile.

You two had gotten kicked out of the cinema for shouting- ahem- 'obscene remarks' at the screen.

"Jimin, think of all the traumatized children in the cinema," you whispered, biting your lip to stop yourself form saying anything further. It didn't work. "They're going to thinking of you thirsting over-"

"Shhh." He put a hand over your mouth, unable to control his own giggles. "Not out loud."

"What is wrong with you?" You whispered, taking his hand away, trying in vain to hide your smile.

"I didn't mean any of it. I've just always wanted to interrupt a movie at the cinemas."

"Yeah right. Like you don't dream of-"

"Not out loud," he hissed, "If anyone knew I pretended to thirst over a kids show-"

"Pretended, sure."

He winked at you, taking you hand without really thinking.

"What now?"

You casually slipped your hand out of his and patted his shoulder.

"Now we find you a body pillow," you said, walking to you car and getting in the driver's seat.

"I- That actually sounds pretty cool let's do that."

"I'm kidding you pervert, we're getting ice cream."

"How do I know you won't poison me?"

"I really should after what you just did."

"But you won't."

"But I won't."

Eating ice cream and fangirling over My Little Pony with your long-term enemy. That's definitely something you never thought you'd do.

"Y/n, do you still hate me?" He asked out of the blue.

"Uh..."

He smiled, scrunching his nose. "Is that a no?"

"You're not... all bad."

"So you're finally willing to accept me as your boyfriend?"

"Keep trying," you scoffed, shovelling ice cream into you mouth.

"Hey you're finishing all of it!" Jimin whined.

"Why do you think I bought ten more boxes?"

"Can I eat out of my own box?"

"No."

Instead of buying small cups or cones of ice cream like normal people, you two had decided to buy these huge tubs. Now you were sitting on your sofa, squabbling over a box and completely ignoring the show you had started watching on Netflix.

"Y/n?" He asked once more.

"Say one more thing and I'm knocking your teeth out."

"Wow, okay. Rude."

You two finally got back to watching the drama you had left, fighting with each other now and then for another scoop of ice cream.

Finally at night you kicked him out of the house, letting him take your car to drive to his dorms.

The next day Jimin burst open the door to the styling room, alerting everyone that he was here.

"You good?" You asked him, amused.

"You know me, always looking for attention." He fluttered his eyelids, tucking a hand under his chin. "Here are your keys. Your car's outside near the 'no parking' sign."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Nope."

You rolled your eyes and snatched your keys from him, stuffing them into your pocket. "I give you my car and this is how you repay me."

He smiled and sat down in front of the mirror. "There is one way I can repay you, if you want."

"You have my attention." You picked up the makeup brush and started doing his makeup.

"Mario kart at the dorms."

"After the award show?"

"Uh doy."

You narrowed your eyes at him in the mirror. "What's the catch?"

His lips parted into a smile. "You know me too well. The only catch is... well, be my friend. Let's stop with this rivals thing. It's getting tiring."

Hoseok whistled in the next seat over, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his cheek on his fist. "Is this a relationship development I see?"

"Mind your own business," Jimin snapped. "As you can see my friends now are... less than satisfactory," he added, lifting his head to look up at you.

"Stop with the business talk, I'm in."

"You are!?" He swiveled round in his chair, nearly cracking his neck in the process.

"The only friend I have is Jia and I'm 90% percent sure she's getting sick of me. Oh, and I guess my roommate counts."

"Seven years together and I'm still not counted as a friend," Taehyung muttered. "The amount of disrespect-"

"Hush, boy. Oh, and Jimin? You still haven't given back my roommate's clothes."

"Do they want them back?" He asked, turning his chair back around.

"Yeah."

"I'm not giving them."

"It's been two seconds and you're already starting a new rivalry," you scoffed.

He pinched your cheek, amused. "My dear Y/n, life is nothing without drama."

Maybe that was why your heart had suddenly decided to go against all your morals and catch feelings.

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<Previous Part> Behind The Mask//PJM (1/3)

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Behind The Mask//PJM (3/3)

Oneshots Masterlist

<Previous Part> Behind The Mask//PJM (2/3)

Stylist + Enemies AU

Requested

I'm weak for the enemies to lovers trope so do that lol Jimin x Y/n An Idol AU where Y/n is Jimin's makeup artist and they hate each other (you can decide why) A title idea could be "Behind his Mask"

Yeeee confessssss

2.9k Words

"What's your ideal type?" Jia asked. You wrapped your arms around your pillow, clutching it to your chest and stuffing your face into it.

"Let me think... someone I can have fun with. Someone who can make me laugh and smile and just... make me comfortable around them. Who I'm not afraid to be myself around."

"Wow. You have really low standards."

You laughed and laid down on Jia's bed, staring up at her plain white ceiling. You banged your fist against the wall behind you and watched the plaster crumble and fall onto her bed in flakes.

"This has got to be the most boring sleepover we've ever had," Jia sighed.

"Well then stop asking me about my love life."

"You don't have a love life."

"Exactly, end of conversation."

"Why don't you date your roommate?" Jia asked, perking up. "He's hot."

"Okay wow no, that would be betraying our roomie pact. You can ask him out if you want but he's gay so good luck with that. Besides, you just asked me my ideal type and-"

"Y/n, sweetie, everybody fits into your ideal type. Even that guy who always hangs out around the store."

You held back a smile. "The drunk guy? Who asked me out?"

"Mhm." Jia got up off the floor and flopped onto her bed, tucking her legs under herself.

"What's his name?"

"Mr. Lee."

"Full name, dumbass."

"Lee Jaesook, jeez."

"Maybe I'll just date him."

"He's 50 and never not drunk."

"Fifty!? He must have been hella drunk to ask me out."

Jia sighed. "Yeah and bonus? He's a creep."

You both fell silent. Your gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling. One of your hands was fumbling with your sleeve, twisting round a frayed string. You rubbed your eyes sleepily. "I need a sugar daddy," you muttered. Jia bit her lip, holding back a laugh. Should she say it? Probably no-

"Why don't you ask Jimin?" Never mind, she said it.

You kicked her arm, groaning. "Can you shut up?"

"No." She lay down next to you, propping herself up on her elbow. "You two are practically dating anyway, just make it official and call him your sugar daddy."

"We are not."

"Are you sure? He always holds your hand and stuff. And hugs you. And I'm pretty sure he kissed your cheek that one time. And your lips-"

"That's his problem. The world thinks we're dating so he acts like we're dating, but it's all for fun. I still hate him."

"Mmmm but aren't you two friends now?"

"I guess?"

"So doesn't that fit into your horrible ideal type? 'Someone you can have fun with'," she laughed, dodging your kick, "'Someone you can be yourself around', he's the whole package!"

"Shut up!"

"Y/n, Y/n he's rich. Marry him, have babies, I don't care just get your sugar daddy-"

"Jia..." you whined, pushing her.

"Sorry, sorry," she laughed. She grabbed your arms to stop herself from falling off the bed and buried her face in your shoulder. "I'll stop teasing you on one condition."

"What?"

"If you two get married you're naming your baby after me."

"JIA-"

You walked into the staff breakroom, linking your hands together and stretching them out before you. Jia had decided to go to the grocery store before coming so you had arrived at the company alone. You closed your eyes, rubbing your forehead. You had woken up with a piercing headache that had yet to subside.

Someone ran forwards and flung their arms around you, knocking you back. You tripped over your feet and fell backwards. Whoever it was caught you and pulled you into an even tighter hug.

"Careful," they whispered, brushing their lips against your ear.

"You're the one who knocked me over, Jimin." You looked around. Thankfully there was no one else here to witness him catching you like that. Breaking out of the hug, your hand travelled to your head again. You tugged at your hair lightly as if that would stop the headache.

"What's wrong?" Jimin asked, the smile immediately wiped off of his face.

"Nothing, I just have a headache."

"It looks bad..."

"I'm fine." You turned around to walk out but he caught your arm, lightly pulling you back.

"You're obviously not. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not really," you sighed.

He frowned, letting go of your arm. You both walked to the styling room together, not really sure what to say. This would be their last performance for a while, so reminding yourself of that every two minutes you somehow convinced yourself to power through the day despite your headache.

Jimin opened the door and you were both immediately met by shouting. It looked like Jungkook had pissed of Seokjin again. You winced, grabbing your head again.

"You know you can go home, right?" Jimin whispered.

"Are you kidding? I'm not going to get to see you for another few months, I'm not missing it." All. You had forgot the word 'all'.

'I'm not going to get to see you all for another few months' was what you meant to say. If Jimin knew that maybe he wouldn't have choked on his own spit.

"You good?" you asked, watching him bang his fist on his chest, coughing roughly.

"I'm fine," he wheezed, turning away. His cheeks were dusted pink, from the coughing or his heart he didn't know.

You both stepped inside, shutting the door behind you.

After the performance Jimin found you near the closet where you had locked him. He watched you bring your foot back and smash it into the wall. He flinched, sure he heard a crack. You stood on the spot, hopping with your now injured foot.

"What were you doing?" Jimin asked, whispering, not because he was trying to stay quiet because of your headache but simply because he was marveling how stupid you could be.

"I was proving—or rather disproving—a theory," you answered, wincing as you tried to place your injured foot on the ground.

"Which is?"

"If I smash my toe into the wall as hard as possible it'll hurt, right?"

"Uh... I haven't recently smashed my toe into a wall but seeing your face I'm guessing it... hurts?"

"You bet it does, it hurts like hell. SO according to like Newton's fifth law or something if one part of you hurts, let's say your head, if you hurt your foot it'll cancel out the pain from your head because all your attention will be directed to pain in your foot."

"Pretty sure that's not Newton's fifth law..."

"Really? Well it's fake anyway."

"Uh... do you need a ride home?" Jimin shuffled his feet together. "I know where you live and everything so... you know-"

"It's fine," you smiled. "I'll walk. It'll probably be good for my head anyway."

"Okay, just... be careful."

"I'm not a child, Jimin," you scoffed.

"You literally just disproved a law that didn't even exist. Are you sure you're not a child?"

You walked down the sidewalk, stopping at the zebra crossing. You looked up at the light, waiting for it to turn green so you could cross. Your hands were in your pockets and you were bobbing up and down on your heels. You had been right, being outside had helped ease your headache.

You frowned slightly, thinking about the boys, namely BTS. You wouldn't see them for a while now that their promotions were over. You didn't want to disturb them while they were resting so you couldn't call them whenever you wanted. Besides, it would be weird seeing a staff member so close to them.

The light turned green and you started walking down the crosswalk. You didn't hear the tires screeching and before you knew it you felt the air being knocked out of your lungs. You were thrown onto the road gasping for breath. Your couldn't move your leg, you just couldn't move it. You looked down, and before you knew it you heard screaming. It took you a couple of seconds to realize the scream was coming from you.

A week later, Jimin flopped down on his bed, turning his phone on. Clicking on his messages, he started mindlessly scrolling through. He paused, seeing that Y/n was online. He hadn't seen her for a week, she wouldn't mind if he called her, right? His thumb hovered over the call button as he weighed through the pros and cons in his mind. He decided not to. It would be weird and-

He dropped his phone, fumbling to catch it before it hit his face. Somehow he managed to hit the call button and next thing you know he had thrown the phone into the wall, waiting for Y/n to either pick or decline the call.

He heard a small click and scrambled for the phone, putting it to his ear.

"Hello? Y/n!?"

"Uh... yeah? What'd you call for?"

"Honestly... I don't know," he whispered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"...did you burn down the dorms?"

"What!? No, why would I-" He sighed. "Can we just have a normal conversation for once?"

"Sure?"

"How have you been?" Jimin sat down on his bed, leaning back on one hand.

"I mean my roommate ditched me which sucks since I'm not supposed to be walking but otherwise it's all good."

"...how am I supposed to answer that? Wait YOU CAN'T WALK!?"

"Yeah my leg's broken."

Jimin's eyes widened. He froze, trying to make sense of what he had heard. Her leg was broken!?

"And you say that so calmly!?"

"Well it's been a week so the shock's kinda gone I guess."

"Y/N!! I'm coming over."

"What the fuck no-"

Jimin hanged up and jumped off of his bed. If her stupid roommate ditched her somebody had to take care of her. It wasn't that he wanted to, he was just being a responsible citizen.

In record time he was at your house, knocking on the door. Nobody answered so he tried ringing the bell. Still no answer.

His phone started dinging furiously, buzzing in his back pocket. He took it out, looking at his notifications.

[(2) messages from Biatch]

Biatch: Oi dumbass

Biatch: I can't walk, remember?

You: Ah...

Biatch: 'Ah' indeed

Biatch: I've got to admit I never thought you would be this dumb

You: So how do I get in?

You: Do you have a spare key or something?

Biatch: Creep

You: just let me in

Biatch: If I get kidnapped I'm telling Jia to blame it on you

You: Cool

You: now do you have a spare key or not?

Biatch: There's a purple rock in the garden

You: Use it to smash the window?

Biatch: I was gonna say there's a key under it but sure

Jimin contemplated smashing the window in and jumping through, but if he did that he would have a lot of explaining to do. He smiled, already imagining the headlines.

[Deranged idol breaks into girlfriend's house]

He found the key and opened the door, stepping into the house. He had to admit, he was slightly disappointed to see the marble run had been cleared up, but in all honesty he didn't know what he had expected.

"Over here." He heard a voice from the living room.

Y/n was sitting on the sofa, looking up at Jimin.

"Hello."

"Hi," Jimin smiled.

"So why'd your roommate ditch you?" Jimin asked, adjusting his legs so he wouldn't hurt your broken one.

Right now you two were sitting on opposite sides of the sofa, your legs tangled together.

"That was a joke," you explained, smiling sheepishly. "Some family business came up. He was going to stay but I told him to go."

"Wait wait wait your roommate's a guy!?" Jimin sat up straighter, leaning in.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you tell me!?" he whined.

"Why didn't you know?"

He frowned, leaning back and folding his arms. "Show me a picture of him."

"Jeez..." you took out your phone, going into your gallery. "Um... here." You turned your phone towards Jimin, leaving him in shock.

"The guy with the blue hair?"

"Yeah."

"He's..." he didn't know how to say it.

"Hot, yeah, I hear that a lot."

Jimin nodded, still staring at the picture.

"Stop drooling over my friend!"

"I'm not! I only have eyes for you," he added, winking.

"Yeah right," you scoffed, unable to hide the smile creeping up on your face.

"So how has it been all alone?" He asked, nudging you with his foot.

"Lonely. Jia comes over when she can but otherwise there's no one to hug."

"Clingy much?"

You frowned, tugging at your sleeves.

"I'll hug you," Jimin said.

You looked across to him, nudging him with your own foot. "Are you sure? I'm clingy."

"So am I."

Two minutes later you were cuddling on the sofa. Your head was buried in his chest, mainly so you wouldn't have to face him.

"Y/n?" He whispered, tucking your head under his chin.

"Hm?"

He bit his lip, hesitant. "You know this... fake relationship?" He drew in a deep breath and lowered his voice to a whisper. "What if we made it real?"

"What?" It came so suddenly you didn't know what to say. You hadn't expected him to confess so suddenly like that. You hadn't expected him to confess at all.​​​​​​

"It's just-" Jimin removed his head from the top of yours and looked down, lifting your chin up to look at him. "-the past few months have been some of the best of my life."

"You're exaggerating."

"Okay, true, but... isn't this so much better than being enemies? At first I was just happy to be friends but now I can't imagine calling anyone else my girlfriend. Whenever I think of who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with... you're the first person who comes to mind. I can't stop thinking about you... every single day I find myself wondering what you're doing, how you've been, whether you're okay. I don't know what you've done to me but I smile more around you, and my heart—God, it feels like it'll pump itself right out of my chest."

"Jimin..."

"Please, listen to me before you say anything. Just- just let me explain. I promise I'm not messing with you." His eyes remained locked with yours. "I've lived my whole life with you and I can't imagine it with anyone else."

He was reading your mind. He had to be. There was no way he had been having the exact same thoughts as you these past few days, there was just no way...

"I know we barely became 'friends' a few weeks ago, but if you want I'll wait. I'll wait until your realize I mean every bit of what I'm saying. We can work this through as we go, I just... I just want to know if you feel the same way."

He bit his lip nervously, waiting for an answer. You were lost for words. What were you supposed to say?

"Jimin- Jimin you lovestruck idiot what have you done to my heart?" You whispered, burying your face in his collar. He looked confused for a second, then his eyes widened, realizing what you meant. "I love you too." That was the cherry on top.

He leaned forward and kissed you, just a light peck. His eyes met yours and you barely had time to blink before you felt his lips collide with yours again, and this time they stayed there. He wrapped his arm around you and grabbed a fistful of your shirt, pulling you closer almost aggressively. You let yourself melt into his arms, closing your eyes and tilting your head forward. Your hand travelled up his back and into his hair, entangling your fingers in it. You gave his hair a little tug and he pulled you impossibly close, unwilling to let go of you. You had to push away, gasping for breath.

"Who said I wasn't a good kisser?" he muttered, kissing your jaw.

Your cheeks felt hot, you could already feel the blush creeping up from your neck. You buried your face into his shirt, holding tightly onto his sleeve.

"You're not this shy when you're dissing me." He twisted a strand of your hair between his fingers, lightly tugging at it when you still didn't look up after a few minutes. "Are you dead?"

"Jimin, I'm sorry," you whispered, you voice shaking. Really, you were holding back a laugh, but to him it sounded like you were crying.

"What's wrong?" He asked, panicking. he lifted your chin up so he could see your face better.

"I- um... Jia kept telling me we were going to end up married and I told her she was crazy, so we made a bet. And now if we ever get married we have to name our daughter after Jia."

"You're kidding!" Jimin whined, letting go of your chin. "I'm not naming my daughter after that troll."

"I'll tell her you said that."

"Tell her she's also a huge git."

"I will." You smiled and turned over, trying to sit up.

"Hey hey hey what are you doing?"

"Sitting up...?"

"No." Jimin pulled you back down, wrapping both his arms and legs around you. "Can we just stay like this? Every time we see each other we always fight or tease each other. Can't we just..."

"Clingy much?" you teased, kissing his nose.

If somebody had told you when you were a kid that you would end up falling in love with Jimin, you would've hidden tarantulas in their lunch box. Even now you were still in awe, wondering how you had managed to fallen in love with Park Jimin.

Your boyfriend.

Oneshots Masterlist

<Previous Part> Behind The Mask//PJM (2/3)

I’d Hate To Say it | pjm (m.list)

❝i needed you and you fuckin’ left me.❞

summary: when you return home from studying abroad, you come to find your former best friend, jimin, has made drastic changes to his life that could put him in danger or behind bars forever.

pairings: drug dealer!jimin x f!reader.

warnings: smut, violence, fluff, blood and gore, ex best friend!jimin, gang member!jimin, tattooed/pierced!jimin, long hair!jimin, use of guns/knives, mentions of self harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drugs, drug addiction, angst, murder, strong language, 18+, minors dni.

author’s note: yes, yes another one. obviously i had to write something with my love jimin. also if you can’t tell i have an obsession for tattoos and piercings.

©btsugarush. please do not repost.

000 |

Baby, Baby | 04 (m)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader x Taehyung

Genre: Surrogacy AU

Warnings: Smut (i’ll let it be a surprise HUEHUEHEUE), Fluff. A bit of Angst but it will be worth it. Child birth (not much detail)

Words: 12k

Summary: When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

A/N: here it is folks. Unedited as always but i’ll upload the edited version once i receive it. I’m kind of wanting to weep that this is over but i like how it’s ended. keep in mind there is a sequel. So enjoy my loved. let me know what you think :) Again - I don’t claim to know how giving birth works but this is fiction and if you’ve stuck with the series im sure you’re okay with inaccuracies in the story lmao

You can’t tell what your OB/GYN is pointing at exactly. Actually you kind of have tuned her out the moment she’d pointed out that this was the human growing inside of you. And as soon as you can finally – finally– see what seems to be a prominent nose and a head – your breath is hitching.

“Oh would you look at that. It’s a boy!” Exclamations are sounding off in the room and you can’t glance away from the screen. Still watching your baby boy’s little feet and the blurry features of his face as he turns.

Oh lord.

He wasn’t yourbaby boy. He was…. Taehyung and Jimin’s. And that’s when you finally glance over to the happy couple that’s embracing each other while Jimin also seems to be playfully sighing because the baby is not a girl like he’d hoped.

“Congrats baby. I was hoping for a little ballerina but a boring business man will do.” Jimin is patting Taehyung in mock consolation while he only rolls his eyes at Jimin with the widest smile you’ve seen so far.

“Who says boys can’t be ballerinas?” you don’t realise that it’s you who’s spoken up for the first time until everyone is looking at you. And Jimin is finally rushing ahead and cradling your face in his hands while the doctor has gone to get the nurse to discharge you.

“Of course they can,” His smile is genuine. You can tell from his eyes. You had apprehensions that maybe Jimin will slowly start to realise that he has no biological connection to the child and maybe detangle himself once you’re pregnant but the gorgeous blonde had just only proved you wrong time and time again. He had been the most caring one and sometimes it had made you forget that it wasn’t his child that you were carrying.

Keep reading

Pineapple Princess 🍍

Description x Warning:

You perform an experiment with pineapples, and Jimin volunteers himself to science when you discover your results may be wrong. Jimin realizes he likes science a lot more than he thought. A lot more. Porn ensues.

(Mild spanking, Slight dom/sub elements, Accidental!sex, Fluff-ish, Porn with Plot, Best friends to more.)

“That is fucking amazing.” You gasp, licking your lips.

Your friend/ex-friend with benefits Chaerin laughs and nods, wiping her finger on her jeans. She buttons her jeans back up and tightens her belt, then turns to you.

“And they say the Kardashian’s have no talent.” She giggles.

“I mean, they really don’t, but their show does have its educational purposes obviously.” You say, laughing at the end.

“Really? Cause the only thing they’ve taught me is how to make my pussy taste like pineapples.” Chaerin laughs.

“But seriously though, I have got, to try that.” You say, eager.

Chaerin nods with a smirk.

~~~~~

“_______, why the fuck do you have so many pineapple’s in your fridge?”

Your head snaps up from the book your reading and peeks over the couch, only to see Jimin standing in front of your fridge, a confused look etched unto his features.

You get up and walk to the kitchen, then slam the fridge shut. You turn to your best friend and narrow your eyes.

“None of your business.” You hiss, then walk back to the living room.

“Well damn. Defensive much?” He asks, hands up in surrender. He follows you and sits next to you.

“Seriously though. Why the pineapples?” He asks curiously.

You sigh and place your book on your lap and look up at him with irritation.

“Like I said, none of your business.” You respond, rolling your eyes.

He glares and snatches your book off your lap, and you let out a squawk of indignation, lunging after him. He holds it away from you, snickering as you curse at him and attempt to grab it.

“Tell me.” He insists, pushing you away by your forehead.

You sigh and lean back, frustrated.

For fuck sakes, I just wanna finish my novel.

  “Fine. I heard somewhere that if you eat enough pineapples, you start to taste like one.” You grumble, cheeks reddening slightly.

Jimin frowns in confusion. “Taste like one…?”

You let out a loud groan of frustration and look away from him shyly.

“You know… Down there?” You try to explain.

Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he put two and two together. His mouth opens in an ‘O’ shape and he nods in understanding.

“Ohhh. So does it work?” He asks casually.

You sputter and frown at him.

“You don’t need to know that.” You reply, cringing at him.

He rolls his eyes and places your long forgotten book down next to him.

“Come on ________. We’ve been best friends forever. I mean shit, I was your first kiss.” He says exasperatedly.

You cringe at the memory. Your first kiss was horrible. I mean, Jimin was a great kisser and all, but god. It was freaking horrible. It happened during an 8th grade field trip. You had been sad about how all the other girls were bullying you for not having a boyfriend, so Jimin asked if you wanted him to be your first kiss. You agreed, and then it happened. For the first couple of years after, you had thought it was great, the perfect kiss, but the older you got, the more horrifying the memory became. You had basically tried to stick your tongue down his throat. Jeez, you got hives just thinking about it.

“Please don’t mention that kiss.” You plead, a horrified expression on your face.

He chuckles and nods. “Fine. So you gonna tell me, or am I gonna have to tickle it out of you?” He asks, a sly smirk sliding unto his face.

You immediately tense and bring your arms up in defense, leaning back.

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll tell you… It worked.” You say with a roll of your eyes.

Jimin shifts closer to you curiously.

“Seriously? That’s so cool. Does it work for guys?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Yeah, I think so.” You say nodding.

“Wait. So you tasted yourself?” He suddenly asks you, his interest peaked.

You roll your eyes at his eagerness and nod. “Obviously. Who else is gonna do it for me?” You ask sarcastically.

A flash of lust goes through Jimin at the question. He shifts in his seat and glances at you.

“You know, you might be wrong.” He offers.

You immediately frown. “I doubt it. I’ve tasted it.”

“Yeah, but like, I’m pretty sure this thing is like tickling. You know how you can’t tickle yourself? I’m pretty sure you can’t taste yourself either.” He says matter-of-factly.

You frown at the sudden revelation. What if he’s right? What if you actually can’t taste yourself? What if all those weeks of eating pineapples are for nothing? What if the entire time, what you tasted on your fingers was the remnant pineapple juice from what you had ate? You ponder over these thoughts, slowly getting less and less motivated.

“Oh fuck. What am I supposed to do now?” You groan, burying your face into your palms.

Jimin hesitates for a second, then replies. “Well… maybe I can taste it?”

Your head snaps up to look at the boy who stares at you with an unsure look on his face. He immediately starts to regret it.

“I-I mean, we don’t- I don’t have to! I meant licking it from your finger- or mine- or a tissue, shit. Doesn’t matter anymore. I’m sorry I mentioned it. I’ll just leave now.”  He barely manages to say, getting up from the couch.

“Wait.” You say, grabbing unto his shirt.

He slowly turns to face you. You stare up at him through your lashes and shyly start to stutter.

“I-I mean fine. I guess we could do that. It-It’s not sexual. Just a friend doing a favor for another.” You say, unsure of yourself.

Jimin nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “Exactly. Just a favor.” He repeats.

You nod and stare at him. He raises an eyebrow and motions towards your pants. “Well, you gonna do it?”

You glare at him and start to fumble with your belt. You then unzip your pants. Your hand freezes at the hem of your panties. Jimin stares at the skin above the hem and feels a wave of heat swim through him. He clears his throat.

“Come on. Just do it.” He insists, flicking your hand.

You frown and move your hand away.

“I can’t!” You squeal, face turning red.

Jimin rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. He silently gets up, and just as you’re about to ask him where he’s going, he grabs your hand and pulls you up with him. He drags you to your bedroom and shuts the door behind him. Suddenly, he pushes you to the bed. You squeak as your knees hit the bed and buckle. You sit and stare up at him.

Jimin curses at himself mentally as you stare up at him through your lashes. He doesn’t know when these feelings started, but holy shit; it takes everything in him to not jump your bones. He takes a deep breath.

“Lie back.” He says calmly.

You feel your heart skip a beat, and you’re not sure why, but you do as he says obediently. Jimin gives you a reassuring smile, and then his hands are on you. He grabs your jeans and starts to peel them off you. Your breath hitches as his knuckles brush against your thighs along the way. He takes them off and throws them to the floor.

Jimin says a mental prayer as he sees your panties, basically inviting him. He looks at you and gives you a cautious smile.

“Is this okay? I-I’ll just use a finger. Nothing else.” He reassures, cheeks reddening again.

For some reason, you feel a twinge of disappointment and it takes everything in you not to complain. You nod and spread your legs slightly.

Jimin mentally berates himself for hardening in his pants. He licks his bottom lip when he sees the moist spot forming on your white cotton panties. His hand comes forward and pushes on one of your thighs further away, and you let out a tiny whimper. He looks up at you and sees that you’ve looked away, cheeks a crimson red.

His hand moves between your thighs and to the junction between your legs. You inhale sharply when his fingers push your panties aside, revealing you to him.

‘This is my best friend. Just my best friend. He’s just helping me out. But jeez, how did we even get into this position?’ You think.

“Jesus ________, why are you so wet?” He whispers in awe as your pussy copiously lets out another round of moisture.

You blush and bite your lip. “I-I’m ovulating.” You reply. He and you both know that was a lie.

You let out a loud keening noise as his index finger slides up your slit, collecting the your slick. He pauses as he gets to your clit, wondering if he should. Your hips subconsciously thrust upwards. He takes that as an invitation.

You gasp as his finger spreads your wetness over your clit, lightly rubbing against it. You bite your lip to hold back a moan as his finger slides back down to you hole to collect more of your liquid ambrosia. His finger moves from you and you watch in fascination as it slides between his lips. He sucks on his digit for a moment, and you feel a shudder run through you. He pops it out of his mouth with a frown. You tense, expecting the worst.

“How the fuck, does this happen? It actually tastes like pineapples!” He exclaims in shock.

You feel a wave of relief run through you and sigh. You attempt to close your thighs, but then his hands are suddenly on your knees, holding them apart. You look up at him, alarmed. He stares down at you with lust filled eyes.

“Okay, I know I said I was just gonna do a little taste, but I’m still curious, a-and it’s not like you’re not gonna like it or anything, so could I just-” He rushes his words, but you interrupt him.

“Yes!- I mean, sure. I don’t mind. We’re just best friends.” You reply, trying to convince yourself.

He nods and throws you a quick smile. “Yep, just friends.”

You let out a squeak as his hands move to your panties and pull them off you. You barely have time to be shocked when his hands are spreading you thighs apart and his head dives between your thighs. You let out a loud whine as you feel his warm tongue lick you from your dripping hole to the hood of your clit. His tongue moves back down to your hole and he starts to slurp at the liquid ambrosia that spills from you. He lets out a moan of bliss from the taste.

You whimper and your thighs flex in his hands. He moves his head away with a frustrated sigh. He glances at your thighs and frowns. Suddenly, he pushes them up to your shoulders, making you scream in shock. You look up at him blushing.

“Hold your legs open.” He commands. You feel a wave of desire flow through you. Since when is Jimin all dominant like that?

You obey and hold your thighs, holding yourself open for him. A loud moan comes out of your mouth when his thumb suddenly starts to rub circles into your clit. Your legs shake as he bends back down and starts to lick into your hole, tongue slithering against your walls. You let out a whine of need when his thumb stops moving. Jimin’s head moves up and he glances at you.

You know you look a mess. You look away and shut your eyes, embarrassed.

“J-Jimin. M-Maybe we should stop. Y-You were only supposed to get a little taste.” You stammer, still aware of how his thumb rest firmly against your clit.

Jimin’s lips, covered in a sheen of your juices, break out into a smirk that sends shudders up your spine.

“You really think we should stop __________?” He asks sweetly.

You open your mouth to reply, but a moan falls out of your lips as his thumb starts to move again, rubbing small circles into your sensitive nub. Your hips twitch against the bed.

“F-fuck…. Um…. Y-Yes.” You reply, not sure whether your saying ‘yes’ to the pleasuring ministrations he’s performing, or to his question.

His finger stops moving, and his hands are off your body faster than you can comprehend. You let go of your legs and they fall down. You lay on the bed silently, hyper aware of how Jimin stares at you and how your sitting next to him naked from the waist down. You sit up and clear your throat.

“S-so pineapples, huh?” You stutter, letting out a nervous laugh as you look at him.

Jimin doesn’t answer. He just keeps staring at you with that look in his eyes that makes you want to jump his bones, and you think about doing it for a second, but for fuck sakes, this is your best friend.

You look away and take a deep breath, mentally trying to come up with excuses as to why this is a horrible idea; about how it’ll ruin your friendship, about how you’ll never hear the end of it. You let out a huff, then you glance at him.

He’s still staring at you like he wants to eat you, and you’re not sure whether you like the thought of that or not. But then your eyes wander downwards, and with a heavy heart, you notice how his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans, looking delectably huge and inviting. And when your eyes trail up again, Jimin is still staring at you with that baby face of his, but this time, a knowing smirk plastered on to it. And at that moment, you mentally flipped the bird to all the excuses, and lunged at him.

Your lips meet in a hungry clash as you straddle him. Jimin moans into your mouth as your nails dig into his shoulders. His hands cup your ass, kneading and pawing at it. You nibble at his bottom lip, smirking as he lets out a needy moan. You move away from his lips with a loud pop and whimper as he starts to kiss and suck at your neck. His hands move from your ass and tug at your shirt.

You move away for a second and pull it off you. Jimin smiles as your ‘Hello Kitty’ Sports bra is revealed. You let out a short laugh, remembering that he bought this for you as a joke on your last birthday. He lays a sweet kiss on your chin and pulls it off you. The moment of cuteness is forgotten as soon as your breasts are revealed to him.

Jimin had never told you of course, but he always had a thing for your boobs. He’d always seen you as a friend, but he couldn’t deny the wet dreams he’d had about the perfectly shaped wonders on your chest.

You let out a whimper as his mouth immediately latches on to one of your nipples, gently tugging and suckling at the sensitive tiny mound. His other hand goes up and starts to pinch and rub at your other nipple. You bite your lip in bliss from all the attention your getting and grind down. Jimin groans deep in his throat from the feeling of you grinding your cunt unto his clothed cock.

“I-It’s not fair. Why am I the only naked one?” You ask poutily.

Jimin unlatches from your nipple and pulls his shirt off, throwing it haphazardly. His lips come back to yours, pressing against them firmly. You let out a keen as his hands move back down to your ass, kneading at your cheeks again. A loud gasp leaves you as one hand smacks a cheek hard. Your sure a hand mark is left behind. You move back and glare at Jimin, trying to hide the fact that it turned you on more than anything else. He smirks up at you cockily and does it again with both hands, and you can’t help the moan that escapes you. Jimin’s eyebrow raises I surprise and his face moves closer to yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“You like that, princess?” He asks, smirking smugly.

Your cheeks redden, but you don’t answer. Another smack comes down on your ass and you gasp again, shuddering.

“Answer me __________.” He commands.

“Y-Yes.” You whimper, grinding down unto his hard on again.

Jimin is barely able to keep his cool, so he lifts you slightly and he reaches under him. He maneuvers his way and unbuckles and unzips his pants. He pulls his cock out with a sharp hiss, enjoying the feeling of not being restrained any longer. You sigh as you feel his cock rub against the back of your thigh. He sits you down again, and his cock rests behind your ass, against your crack.

You blush and rock back slightly, making Jimin hiss and grab your hips. He glares at you for a moment, and you smile sweetly at him. Once he relaxes, he speaks.

“I know you’re a virgin, so I don’t wanna rush you into anything. But there’s something I wanna try. You’ll like it, I promise. Trust me?” He asks cautiously.

You immediately nod, curiosity and lust running you. “Yes.” You reply.

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek, then lies back on the bed. He lifts your hips and his cock bounces up, lying against his stomach. You look down, watching how it twitches, a dribble of precum leaving it. Jimin then lowers you again, this time, with your cunt resting on top of his cock, firmly seated on the shaft.

You let out a moan and brace your hands on his chest as your clit meets his shaft. Jimin groans and holds your hips. His eyes look up and meet yours, and then he smirks.

“Now move.” He commands.

You obey and swivel your hips. The effects are instant, a loud moan leaving you as your sensitive nub rubs against his shaft. You move back and forth, rubbing your sex along his shaft, leaving a trail of wetness along it. Jimin groans deep in his throat at the feeling of your pussy virtually wanking him. He listens to the moans that escape your lips, and how you sigh in pleasure each time your nub of nerves grinds against his shaft.

Jimin lets out a groan as you start to move faster, smearing your juices up and down his cock. You bite your lip to hold back your moans and Jimin doesn’t like that. His hand comes up and grabs you jaw, making you face him. You stare down at him with wet, lust filled eyes, cheeks red, flushed to your chest. He frowns and untucks your lip from your teeth.

“I wanna hear you.” He whispers, and you let out a moan, bracing yourself on his chest as you continue to swivel your hips.

Everything feels so wonderful, and you can’t help but think… what would it feel like to be full? You stare down at the look on Jimin’s face. At how he furrows his eyebrows and groans deep in his chest. At how his abs tense under your hands every time your clit brushes against the sensitive mushroom head of his cock. With a moan, you’re suddenly lifting your hips up and taking his cock in your hand.

Jimin’s eyes pop open and he lets out a gasp when he feels the tight warmth of your cunt enveloping him. He looks down and sees your face screwed up in concentration as you slowly coax your hole to relax around him. Jimin’s hands tighten around your waist as you continue to lower yourself, tiny whimpers escaping you.

“Slowly __________.” He warns, scared of hurting you. His voice is tight from how much restraint it’s taking him not to just flip you over and fuck you into the mattress until all you can do is beg for mercy.

You do as he says and take him centimeter by centimeter, sparks of pain poking at you. You clench your teeth as you finally take him halfway. Jimin groans under you and throws one of his arms over his eyes. His body tenses and untenses with need and desperation. You take a deep breath and continue to lower yourself down, whimpering with each inch that slides into you. You finally bottom out with a wince and sit still, still getting used to the stretch.

“Fuck…” Jimin curses as your nails dig into his stomach.

He feels his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Thoughts ranging from how ‘fucking tight’ you are to how ‘if you don’t move right now’, he’s gonna die swarm through his head.

“Y-You okay?” He asks through clenched teeth.

You whimper and nod, clenching around him, making him throw his head back with a loud moan.

“Fuck… __________, please move.” He begs, hand going back down to squeeze at your hips.

You start to raise your hips, letting him slide out of you inch by inch, and then you slam yourself down. You wince in pain, but a spark of pleasure goes up your spin and you let out a moan.

Jimin is mortified. He curses at his body mentally. One stroke in, and he’s about to cum because holy shit, how are you so tight, and warm, and fucking hell, I’m gonna cum.

  You barely notice his struggle and start to ride him earnestly, stroking his cock with your walls. Streams of moans start to fall out of your lips as it starts to feel good. A dull ache starts to build inside your core as you take Jimin’s cock over and over again. Jimin moans uncontrollably under you, stomach clenching as you start to ride him faster. His nails dig into your hips as he starts to thrust upwards along with you, making you gasp. He starts to hit a spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Oh! Oh fuck! Th-there!” You gasp as he braces his legs against the bed and starts fucking up into you faster, slamming right into your g spot.

You let out a dry sob and keel over; forehead pressed against his chest one of his hands moves from your hips and starts to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your legs shake with the effort of riding him. A searing heat suddenly takes hold of you and you’re thrown off what feels like a bridge.

You gasp and shake as you come hard, walls clenching around Jimin’s cock. Jimin says a mental thank you to whatever god is listening and finally lets go, cumming hard with a groan. You continue to clench around him, riding out your orgasm, and milking his.

You lay against Jimin’s chest, trying to catch your breath. Jimin pants under you.

“So… that just…happened.” He says, out of breath.

You let out a laugh and pinch his side, laughing again when he yelps retaliates by pinching you back.

“You’re such a slut Jimin. You were only supposed to have a taste. “ You scold, moving your head off his chest.

Jimin scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, like you didn’t have any part in this.” He responds, raising an eyebrow.

You grin and sit up again, biting your lip at the sensation of his cum squeezing out of you around his cock. You clench around him curiously, and Jimin gasps, instantly starting to harden again. He looks at you and grins. You gasp as he suddenly flips you over unto you back, his cock still snuggly fitted inside you.

“So… boyfriend and girlfriend?” He asks confidently, but you can see a hint of shyness in his eyes.

You feel your heart skip a beat at the proposition. Jimin. Your boyfriend. The thought scared you and made you the happiest girl alive at the same time.

“Yeah… Boyfriend and girlfriend.” You reply, smiling up at him.

Jimin smiles and leans down. His lips meet yours for the first gentle kiss since this all started, molding against your perfectly. You kiss him back, feeling butterflies rise in your stomach. Then you feel heat rise in your stomach and moan into the kiss as Jimin draws his hips back and thrusts into you.

Who’d have known that a pineapple woulda started all this?

Steamy: Epilogue | jjk

Genre: college!au, time hops, an obscene amount of fluff Pairing: college!Jungkook x reader Warnings: I made myself cry. Word count: 2.4k Summary: This particular “chapter” answers the question of “Did Jimin find out?” along with the future of Jungkook and the reader. Get ready to read so much fluff that it hurts. 

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Lowkey

Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: smut wordcount: 6.2k inspiration

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This series is one of my favorites stories!! it was also the first of many i’ve come to love, i’m so glad it’s being continued!! i love your writing and can’t wait for this to come out❤️❤️🥺🥺🥰🥰

My Puppy Masterlist

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Summary: You’re a top associate at one of the largest law firms in the city. You lead a successful but lonely life. You decide getting a puppy is just what you need. Enter Kim Taehyung, a very good boy. 

My Puppy: [1] [2] [3]  Completed

Kitten Addition: [1] [2] [3] Completed 

Full House: Coming Soon

Drabbles: Coming Soon

Happy birthday to the sweetest mochi ever!! I love you and i appreciate you sooo much❤️❤️❤️💖💖💖💕💕💕💕🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

may JK’s long hair rest in peace, you will be forever missed and never forgotten🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😣(but he’s still a major cutie🥰)

who was it??!?!? i’m on the edge of my seat, this is why i love reading your work! you always make the thrilling no matter what<3

Head Over Heels

Killing Me Softly Sequel!

Yandere Hoseok x Reader ; BTS Member x Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~

Release Date: December 5th, 2019 @ 12 am (GMT-4) 

Three years. It took three years for some semblance of normality to return to your life. It took three years for you to begin to see the world, not by it’s bad but it’s good. Three years and you were finally moving on. Three years wasn’t enough to stop his obsession. After three years, he was tired of waiting - you would finally be his.

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he’s so adorable ❤️❤️🥰

happy birthday to the most relatable person on this planet, min yoongi! ♡

jagged (m) :: pjm

➻ female reader x jimin

➻ hybrid au + in heat + jaguar/black panther!jimin + sand dune cat!reader + mutual pining + friends to lovers

➻ genres: minor angst, smut, fluff, romance

➻ length & status: 9k words; complete

➻ rating & warnings: 18+; graphic descriptions of smut: cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink/breeding talk,

➻ summary: The pretty little sand cat hybrid Jimin has been in love with for the past year experiences her first heat and Jimin would love nothing more than to be the one to guide her through it and breed her with his kittens.

➻ disclaimer: have i read enough hybrid fics to be an expert? nope. did i write a hybrid fic anyways? that’s the point of fiction y’all… you can make anything up. anyways, this is UNEDITED AS FUCK with way too many run-on sentences. i wrote this in between the series of essays i had to complete for finals, while having to move back home for the rest of my final year, so I hope you’ll be understanding if it’s a little… rough… around the edges. please imagine that jaguar hybrid jimin looks like 260320 jimin. as per usual links will be updated in a week or so.

➻ a/n: sometimes you have to write the fics you want to read. dedicated to my first author love: miss obi.

⋆ my masterlist ⋆

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The Bird Cage

Chapters as follows:

1. 

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

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10.

11.

12.

13.

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Loose ends | Park Jimin

Synopsis:  With a past you’d like to forget, you move out of town to start a new life in hopes that no one will ever learn of the bitch you used to be. You meet a man that is above you in every way and you wonder whether or not you deserved his kindness, but he had a completely different agenda.

Genre: E2L, Yandere, smut

Warnings: Mentions of spit, bodily fluids, hair pulling, spanking, degradation, deception, borderline non-con, dumbification, unprotected sex, bondage, dom!Jimin, Sub!reader, misuse of panties, masturbation, anal play, rimming, fingering,Titty slapping, gagging, panty sniffing, butt-plug (F), stalking, breeding kink, double penetration (with toy and c*ck),recording the reader without and with her knowledge, Big cock Jimin, Size kink, rough sex, biting, cum play, over-stimulation, roughness, Choking, Dick smashing (You’ll understand when you read it), Reader was a bit of a bitch in her past, Oral (F), orgasm denial (Kinda), A ridiculous amount of begging, Jimin pleading you to bed for him, talks of masturbation, crying (Due to pleasure), Pussy claiming, Revenge fucking, Love fucking, Spanking, obsession, breeding kink, squirting, cum play

Word count: 16.3k

A/N: This fic was a complete 50/50 collaboration between Noxie ( @scribblemetae​) and Kay ( @jkeuphoriadreamland​). It was absolute fantastic to work together and this was basically a result of us daydreaming about Jimin. We both really hope you enjoy reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it. If you found this through one of our blogs go send the other just as much love <3

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