Thick As Thieves / MYG ➼ Caught out by the law you're forced into a marriage with Min Yoongi so you cant testify against each other in court.
Magic / PJM ➼ You left your previous job to follow your heart out of the country to be with your new boyfriend Jungkook who you met when he was touring your country with the very explicit group of performers called "The Bangtan boys" a sexy septuplet group of exotic dancers.
PART 1 ➼ PART 2 ➼ PART 3 ➼ PART 4 ➼ PART 5 ➼ PART 6
Unexpected / KTH ➼ Out at a bar with her best friend, and after a drunken fumble in the sheets, Paige is mistaken for an escort. A year later she runs into him again, he's her boss, and she has a baby... his baby.
How to get a man in 30 days / PJM ➼ Noelle Hartman enlists the help of a handsome, sexy, date doctor
PART 1 ➼
The Devil inside / JJK ➼ On the tipping scale of fate, a prophecy is born to two supposed warriors, a holy battle of Heaven and Hell awaits them both. One a Demon spawn of a Devil, A fathers prodigy and heir. The other a Saint sent from God himself, A true gift and healer to the human realm.
PROLOGUE ➼
S.S Ark / KNJ ➼ Aboard the Starship S.S Ark, it was your dream to become the next Captain.
Illegirl / KSJ ➼ The world isn’t what it used to be, from money to marriage everything is co-ordinated by the government.
Notes ➼ I don’t know how to do separate pages for different chapter, I’m still learning, I’m having a little bit of a crisis about my layout, at first I like it then I think it’s sucks, I’m not good at aesthetics
I really enjoyed reading S.S Ark! The tension between the two of them, the setting, and then as a reader trying to figure out what happened was really fun. Thank you for writing this! 💜
Park Jimin has been your buoy, your anchor and the ship of sanity that guides you to shore amid storms of self-doubt, nearly all your life; as have you been his. That is not to say nothing has ever brewed beneath the surface of platonic friendship, or that the two of you have never been victims to mistiming. Regardless, you would never risk the friendship you have with him now for anything. Even if you have to hurt him – or even yourself – in the process.
pairing: jimin x reader
rating: m (18+)
genre: humor | fluff | smut | friends to lovers!au
word count: 9.7 k
— warnings: swearing + alcohol consumption + unresolved sexual tension + mentions of therapy + really lame humor + some dark humor (a mention of n*crophilia) + sexual situations (mentioned m. receiving oral, explicit f. receiving oral) + a ton of secondhand embarrassment
— note: it is finally done, omfg. writer's block got me good with this one - literally made me crawl and mocked me for overestimating my abilities. but at least we are finally kicking this off, right? i hope you enjoy this messy ride, drop me a word, guys~ 💜
ps. the rating, genre and warnings mentioned above pertain to this chapter, only.
series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist?
𝐈 . 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃
“Who even celebrates turning twenty-seven, dude?”
“Wha—”
“In this economy? Isn’t it better to just, I don’t know, wait till your thirtieth and then throw some grand party of the decade?”
“Hey, it’s—”
“I mean, sure, it’s a wonder Park Jimin survived another year without ending up in jail because he killed a co-worker, but—”
“Hey! They were not that bad!” he cuts you off with a protest. And then immediately sighs in resignation. "Okay, yeah, they were. That last month in that office was hell. Half the reason why I accepted this transfer was because I didn't want blood on my hands."
"Hold on," you raise your own protest. "I thought I was half the reason?"
"Uh… you're the other half?"
"Right, and the promotion had no influence on it, whatsoever.”
“Okay, this is a trap,” Jimin groans, finally giving up, and you break into laughter at his plight. “This is so unfair,” comes his disgruntled complaint. “Refuse to join my birthday celebrations and then find ways to laugh at me. You’ve got a way with ruining people’s day, babe, anyone ever tell you that?”
Rolling your eyes, you scan the cover page of the powerpoint presentation before you. “You do. Every other day.”
“And I’m right. Just come to the damn party, you big baby! I promise you’ll have a good time!”
“You don’t know that and you can’t promise that.”
Jimin releases a deep sigh on the other end of the phone and you purse your lips.
You’re kinda mean for testing his patience on his birthday. But, in your defense, it was him that threw you a curveball first by insisting that you – the most unsociable person in his life – come to this celebration he’s having at his place with his work friends. Which just translates to his entire office, because Park Jimin is a massive social butterfly. You sometimes wonder how you two even stay friends with such differently designed social batteries.
Case in point, you don’t wanna spend your Thursday evening trying to mingle with his coworkers and faking smiles. Not when you know you two could be having so much more fun with a chill night in, watching movies and sipping wine. Or, like, maybe sipping coffee because you have an important presentation to give tomorrow morning.
And that’s another reason why you don’t wanna freaking party – you have a Friday morning brainstorming session with your department about this workshop you’re in charge of organizing next week. You don’t have a keynote speaker yet and Rachel from Legal has refused to sit in as guest of honor so you kinda need a new guest, too.
“If you didn’t wanna party,” Jimin suddenly grumbles through the phone, breaking you out of your work-related thoughts, “why send me a birthday wish text full of balloons at midnight? You seemed more excited than me with your all caps party party and fifteen exclamation marks.”
Wincing, you close your eyes. You’d known you were overdoing it even as you typed that second text message. And now you’re gonna have to bullshit your way out of this.
You begin with a light scoff. “Well, I was obviously talking about the two of us having a party.” You weren’t. “Didn’t know you were so obsessed with the idea of turning twenty-seven you would invite your entire company.” You did.
Jimin’s groan spills with frustration. “Babe, for the last time, I’m doing this under pressure. My colleagues all self-invited themselves, okay? Like, I swear to you, if I could get out of hosting this thing, I would.”
He sounds kind of distressed now which indicates he’s being truthful. Not that Jimin is a compulsive liar, but he does have this tendency to withhold facts to benefit his cause, at times.
“My entire office has been on my ass ever since they found out my birthdate. And I have to have a big heart about it because the Director has to set a good example and all that dumb shit that nobody but the CEO cares about because the rest of us weren’t born with a silver spoon in our mouths and actually need to work to earn our paychecks.” He exhales loudly at the end of his outburst. “Do you understand, babe?”
A pout pulls on your lips because you do actually understand. You don't like that you understand because then you can't annoy him anymore which is always so much fun, but his reasoning is actually reasonable.
Jimin has been working as the Regional Director of his company for less than a year. Eight months, to be exact, ever since he moved here following his promotion. Here, as in the place you’ve been located in for the past three years. This is the first time the two of you have been in the same city for such a long period of time ever since high school, a matter of fact.
Sighing at your train of thoughts, you start the spell-checker program for your presentation and then push your laptop away to lay back on the carpeted floor, staring up at the ceiling.
"I do understand, I guess," you finally concede.
"Thank you!"
"Doesn't mean I support it, though."
"I know."
Chuckling, you lift your phone off the table to peek at the screen.
Ongoing call with Min 🌟
73m 51s
“Jimin?”
“Hm?”
“Have you finalized a shirt yet? We've been on the call for over an hour. It’s past eight." You shut your eyes and exhale. "You'll be late to your own party…"
“What do you care?” he petulantly huffs in response. “I’ll be late if I want to. It’s not as if you will be kept waiting…”
Oh, God, this petty bitch.
“Jimin,” you groan in frustration, “don’t be catty, just tell me if you need my help!”
“I’m not being catty, you’re being a bad friend.” He pauses, and when you give another groan at his words, he clicks his tongue. “Fine, yeah, I need help…”
Rolling your eyes, you lift your phone up again. “How many are you confused among? Switch to video, show me.”
Within seconds, your best friend appears on the screen, raking his fingers through his hair like he is constantly doing, twenty-five hours a day. He has his reading glasses on beneath furrowed brows and squinted eyes – which he is yet to focus on the camera or at you – and his lips are pouted in either frustration or anger, or both.
Nonetheless, he looks as good as he always has. A bit mature with his slightly longer black hair which he has been growing out ever since he got here. This promotion has relieved him of some of the workplace rules he was made to adhere to previously – one of them being how he styled his hair. Given Jimin’s obsession with dyes during his college days, you can only imagine how badly he must be itching for some highlights. You’ve told him time and again that natural black suits him best, but the guy always has other ideas.
A smile pulls at your lips.
“Your hair looks nice.”
That grabs his attention, making his eyes snap up to focus a little below the camera. “Huh?”
“Your hair. It looks nice,” you repeat, this time clearing your throat because, well, rehashing the wayward compliment makes you cringe a bit. "Without, y'know, any crazy highlights or dyeing? It looks, uh, good."
The grimace on your face is mirrored by Jimin and you immediately regret opening your mouth. You and Jimin suck at giving or accepting compliments. Insistent teasing and insults are more your forte.
This is weird.
Jimin clears his throat and pats his head, looking unsure. “Does it?” His squinted eyes and pursed lips express discomfort as he adjusts the dark strands around his forehead again. “Uh, thanks…? I am gonna get a trim after Christmas.”
Jumping the opportunity to swerve the conversation, you frantically nod your head. “That's a good idea! But like, Christmas is more than two months away, dude… You’ll be halfway into your Rapunzel era by that time…”
Proud of yourself, you burst into giggles while Jimin scowls at you and stares you down wordlessly until you finally stop. "You're so fucking lame."
You solemnly nod your head. "Astute observation. Now. The shirts, please?”
He makes an exaggerated show of rolling his eyes but then finally moves the camera away, probably placing his phone on some shelf, and steps back to allow you a glimpse of the two hangers in his hands. You squint, bringing your own phone closer to take in the two apparels on the tiny screen. And you do see two shirts, but they just look… black to you. Like, legitimately just black.
Fuck, is this how guys feel when girls ask them to pick apart nail paint shades?
“You should’ve called me on Zoom,” you finally mumble, sitting up and frowning at the screen. “I can barely tell them apart on this small ass screen…”
“What?” Jimin looks kinda clueless and you realize he doesn’t have his earpods on him.
So you can’t see shit and he can’t hear shit. A wonderful pair.
“Nothing, just…” You trail off with a sigh when he raises his eyebrows, and try again, louder, “Can you describe them to me?”
“Describe? Wha…oh. You can’t see them on the small screen, can you?” At your pout, he breaks into a loud laugh, shaking his head. “A blind bitch, my God…”
In the middle of rolling your eyes, the serotonin emitting from the guy tugs your own lips up into a smile. He laughs with whole belly and smiles with his whole face, making everybody around him catch it too. Your best friend really deserves a life full of such happiness, you decide. He has a heart of gold, always so accepting and loving to all even if he ends up hurt at the end. Just endless happiness and smiles should be sent his way, and—
“Dude? You there? Your smile’s really creepy, please stop.”
Jimin’s words bring your attention back to your phone, instantly turning your – admittedly yeah, slightly creepy – smile into an irritated frown. Honestly, the contrast between you wanting him to always be happy and him literally asking you to stop smiling, though?
But also wow, what the fuck? Why’re you being an emotional sap out of nowhere? He is a good person but also a very annoying human being at times, did you forget? He can take a couple of falls. His life doesn’t have to be all smiles and giggles. What is wrong with you?
Shaking your head, you look at him. “Sorry, yeah. Kinda zoned out.”
“Will you focus now?”
At your morose nod, Jimin shoves one of the shirts closer to the camera. Oh, this one looks redder. Wait, it is red! How the fuck could you not see it before? A blind bitch, indeed.
“So this is dark red,” he informs you before swapping the shirt with the other one in which you can clearly detect a blue undertone. “And this one’s really, really dark navy. Both are silk because that’s what I wanna do for my birthday. Now. Pick one!”
You hum in thought, honestly caught in confusion. Jimin’s skin looks really good when he wears shades of red. But both yours and his favorite color forever has been blue.
“Maybe we should go for something different this time,” you begin, nodding to yourself, “and not pick blue, Min.”
He exhales at your words and then huffs out a laugh. “Hey, we don’t always pick blue…”
“We kinda do, dude. Always.”
“O–kay, then. Let’s begin the twenty-seventh year of my life with a lifestyle change, then? Picking red over blue, it is.”
You nod with a snort, peeking at your laptop to see if the spell-checker has finished its job yet. It hasn't, dumb slow fucker.
“Hey, uh,” Jimin continues to talk even as you have placed your phone flat on the table, with the camera now capturing half of your double chin and the ceiling, “this isn’t about Yoongi, is it?”
What?
Wide-eyed and panicked, you immediately pick the device back up to stare at your best friend in horror. Only to find him attempting to stifle his laughter. Your eyes narrow at him sharply.
“It wasn’t, but now it just might be…”
“Um—”
“Jimin, why is he invited?”
“My entire office is the reason why the party is even happening. Can’t skip Yoongi for you, dude, that’ll look bad.”
With his eyes sparkling and lips trembling with barely contained mirth, Jimin looks so giddy about this conversation, you wanna throw a brick at his head.
Ever since you met Min Yoongi at the godawful welcome dinner Jimin’s company threw for him, the guy has floated around you with hearts in eyes every occasion he gets. And Jimin, naturally, loves to drive you insane about it whenever he can. Which is basically all the time.
“Are you planning my murder in your head?” he teases, waggling his eyebrows as he walks around the store to get to the cash counter. “He’s not even that bad, you’re just stubborn…”
“Not bad?” You groan out loud, shaking your head in misery. “Jimin, that guy is scary.”
“He just likes you a lot, babe! And wants you to like him back!”
“Which is scary!”
He frowns at you. “That is a discussion for your therapist. All I want is for you to be there at the party. If you bump into Yoongi and he tries to ask you out again, just tell him you’re dating me.”
“No.” You roll your eyes. “That sort of a lie feels immoral, and outside of my social anxiety and commitment phobia, I’m actually a good person.”
“Please,” Jimin scoffs. “Half my office thinks you and I are a thing, anyways.”
In the middle of scoffing back at him, you stop and do a double take. “Hold the fuck up. Half your office thinks”—you pause to lean in closer to the screen and squint at him—“what?”
“That I’m dating you. And it usually works out in my favor. I can get out of a lot of awkward situations because people assume that I’m not single.”
He is smirking at you, while your head is about to explode.
“Park Jimin. Why have you not corrected the rumors?”
“I just told you! They don’t push me into unnecessary social stuff because they assume I’m not single.”
“Not single because of whom, though?” Your voice has turned pitchy and squeaky. “Me? Are you insane?” You vehemently shake your head. “I’m your best fucking friend, Park Jimin! How dare you?”
“Well, my best fucking friend,” he says around snorts, “it isn’t that serious! Sorry I triggered your existential crisis, jeez.”
“It’s not an existential crisis!”
“No? Well, I’m still sorry.”
Not with the grin on his face, he is not. “You’re clearly holding back laughter…”
A wheeze escapes him at your words, leading to loud, hurried giggles that he fruitlessly attempts to muffle with a hand before quickly clearing his throat. To annoy you more with his stuttered lies. “N–no. These are – these are just my tears of guilt.”
“Park Jimin, I—”
“Hey, stop with the government name!” he finally declares, looking slightly more attentive as he finally stops laughing. “Alright, sorry. I’ll tell my assistant to send out a memo about it tomorrow, okay?”
“Not funny…”
“Come on, it’s a little funny. I don’t get why you’re so bothered. It’s not like you're dating someone, right? Or will, in the near future.”
“Or the far future,” you add with a grumble. “But it’s still not cool to let people make the wrong assumptions, Min.”
“Hey, if I can’t set you up with guys, at least let me have this?”
“How is that the same thing?”
“It’s not.” He giggles. “But it’s equally as fun.”
“Not for me, it’s not. Make it stop.”
“Or,” he grins at you with his entire teeth, “you could make it stop by accepting Yoongi’s advances!”
Sometimes it’s pitiable how badly your best friend wants you to date someone. No, it’s actually always pitiable. He’s been on this agenda ever since you broke up with your last ex, and despite all the in-depth conversations you’ve had with Jimin about why you’re not ready for love yet, he always somehow reverts back to pushing you towards some or the other dude. Every other week.
You sometimes wonder if it’s because he wants to break out of the kinda dumb but very important pact you blackmailed him into, some three years back.
It was a simple set of rules you’d both agreed to, a few weeks after Jimin’s twenty-fourth birthday and a year after your break-up with your ex whom you never should have dated in the first place. You’d sworn off dating for the rest of your life, and because Jimin was hyper-focussed on his career at the time, he wasn’t too eager to find a girlfriend, either. So you both agreed to a mutual agreement of no dating – because it requires a shit ton of time and effort, only to cause a shit ton of emotional trauma in return – and made a promise to, instead, keep the other company, emotionally and intellectually. Completely platonically, of course, because both of you prefer hooking up with strangers instead of risking your friendship to scratch the itch.
Okay, so your words were kinda unhinged, something along the lines of, ‘If I’m not gonna date, you don’t need a girlfriend, either, dude. You’ve got me, and I’m easier to please.’
Ugh…
But it still somehow worked out in the end. Neither of you have dated in the past three years, leaning on each other for support.
So now, if Jimin wants to get back into the dating game, why not simply tell you that instead of trying to link you up with guys? Doesn’t make sense. Which probably means that this is not why he does it. Not to mention, that reasoning also doesn’t justify his supposedly harmless but also very meaningless flirting with you that never seems to cease. In his words, it’s because he needs to “cherish” the fact that you’re both single at the same time. Whatever the fuck that means.
Your best friend is a weirdo.
Right now, you just roll your eyes at his sly grin the way you usually do. “Fuck off with that, Jimin. My mind isn’t changing, when are you gonna stop?”
“Until it does change.” He gives a shrug. “Obviously.”
“Well, so then whatever it is that your co-workers see in us, why can Yoongi not see it too and leave me alone?”
Jimin laughs. “Oh, they think we act couple-y. And Yoongi’s blinded by his love for you, forgive him.”
You blink at his words. Couple-y? You and Jimin? When? Where?
What even are couple-y things, you wonder. You can bet you have barely kissed your best friend on the cheek, like, five times at most in your entire friendship of fifteen-something years. You and him aren’t too big on expressing emotions through…gestures. Sometimes, you even skip on hugs, instead fist-bumping as a greeting when you meet.
What about that sounds… couple-y? Nothing at all!
“Dude?” Jimin calls out to you, waving a hand in the front of the screen. “What is up with you today?”
You release an irritated huff. You both do not act like a couple. It’s a narrow-minded, backwards concept that people settle upon whenever a guy and a girl’s friendship doesn't meet the norms that the society has set up for them. Jimin’s co-workers are backwards.
“We don’t act couple-y, Min.” You look at him with determination.
“O—kay?” He raises his eyebrows and you nod.
“Of course we don’t! Clarify this with your co-workers, okay?” you remind him with a frown, a finger raised and pointed at the screen. “And if they still doubt you, just tell them we don’t have sex. Nobody dates without getting naked, these days.”
Jimin bursts into loud laughter. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna believe me if I just say it, babe. Also, I don’t think that’s true? People still save themselves for marriage.”
You just roll your eyes. “Well, they’re stupid if they do. If I were to ever date again, sex is what would probably be the most integral part of my relationship. No sex? No label, bro.” You make a disgusted face. “So much effort put into tolerating a man in my life and not even a decent orgasm received in return? No thanks, I’ll pass.”
Beginning with small chuckles, Jimin slowly dissolves into loud giggles as you speak further, his phone shaking every which way as he sways with loud laughter again. You’re slowly caught by his infectious cackles, joining in with your own wheezes while he wipes his eyes.
As he finally straightens, though, he’s got this tilted smirk on his face that makes you vary. Because you almost know what he’s gonna say before he even articulates the words. “Well, if sex is what will make you okay about being called my girlfriend at my office, I can amend that anytime you want, you know? Just gotta say the words, ma’am…”
“Yeah I'll say the words, alright,” you murmur with another, disinterested sounding exhale. “That you're a pervert, dear sir. And my ex, as of now.”
“Ooh, so you wanna show up at the party as my hot ex?” He waggles his eyebrows. “Fashionably late, dressed to kill and all that?” Then he quickly waves his fingers. “On the cash counter now, switching to audio.”
As his face disappears from the screen, you sigh. “No, bubs, I really can’t make it. I’ve gotta give this presentation tomorrow morning, real early.”
“Wow, your excuses just keep changing…”
“They’re all reasons and they all hold true, collectively, Min. It’s a goddamn list.” Placing your phone on the table, you tiredly rub your eyes. “It’s not even nine pm and I wanna go to bed already. How about I just see you tomorrow?"
There's silence on the line. A longer than normal silence, one where you can't even hear his breathing anymore, let alone the subtle rustle of his moving feet.
Ah, shit, you've upset him.
"I – I mean we see each other every weekend or so, anyway, so—"
"So you don’t wanna see me on my birthday?"
He sounds so gutted, your heart actually aches. But you still try, "We could have breakfast tomorrow, just you and I, and gossip about what all went down at the party?"
Jimin says your name in a small voice. "You can't not meet me on my birthday when we’re in the same city, dude… Do you remember the last time we celebrated any of our birthdays together? It’s been so long."
You do remember. It was his nineteenth birthday when you and two of your common, close friends had surprised Jimin with a visit to his college. He'd cried so much. You'd recorded it all on camera and uploaded it everywhere on social media, ruining his reputation – Park Jimin crying because he's not gonna be a teenager in a year. Wow, you guys were so lame. And also kinda cruel.
But damn, his last teenage year was… eight years ago, right? Holy shit, has it really been eight years?
Although it kinda makes sense because you and Jimin went to two different colleges in two different states. And yeah, you called and kept in touch but the visits were few and far between.
Wow. And you were gonna let go of the opportunity to meet up with him on his birthday because of – what? A dumb presentation? A dumb colleague of his that’s in love with you? Laziness?
Not anymore.
“No, you know what? You’re right.” You nod to yourself, smiling. “I’ll be there, Min.”
“Really?” Jimin sounds excited and hopeful, emphasizing how much he wanted you to be there. “Despite the Yoongi thing and your presentation?”
“Yep! I’ll steer clear of Yoongi or whatever, it’s cool. And I’ll bring an overnight bag to leave for work from your place, tomorrow.”
“Yes, that’s grea—wait…an overnight bag? You’ll stay the night? D–don’t you start work at, like, ten?”
Your eyes narrow at his stutter and the sudden awkwardness in his voice. “I actually have to give my presentation at eight, but… why do you sound like you don’t want me to stay? Look, if you’re planning on hooking up with someone tonight, let me remind you that your house is gigantic, Min. No one will bother no one.”
Jimin groans and you know you’ve hit the nail on the head. “Dude, you really need to work on your cockblocking tendencies. Remember that one time you stayed over and I had to cancel a threesome I’d planned? And now you’re interrupting my birthday sex? Not fair!”
You gasp loudly, thoroughly offended. “Hey! You’re literally the one that emotionally blackmailed me into coming!”
“Yeah, for the evening!”
“Hey, I—no. You know what? You’re a menace to humanity and I hate you, Park.”
Jimin just giggles in response to your claim. “I absolutely know that. But really, thank you for agreeing to come despite everything, babe. It means a lot to me.”
“Yeah, well, your birthday kinda means a lot to me too.”
Woah, that is way too much sappiness from you in one conversation. Jimin’s pleasant hum of acceptance doesn’t help the sudden mush you feel in your chest either, which is why you clear your throat and rush to set the balance right.
“Just make sure I don’t see your naked ass by the end of the night, and we’re good.”
“Hey! That was one time!”
“Yeah, one time too many!”
“Please,” he gives an affronted scoff, though you can hear a smile in his voice. “Don’t act like you didn’t actually enjoy the view…”
“I didn’t! Shut up! Asshole.” You scrunch your nose and squeeze your eyes shut to ward off the image of Jimin’s bubble butt from your mind. “I’ll see you in, like, an hour then?”
“You mean you’ll see my asshole in an—”
“Park Jimin, I will murder you—”
Foregoing a dress, you choose to wear a scallop trimmed, navy blue jumpsuit which is the perfect amount of dressy and practical – if a hassle to pee in, but you’re resolved to limit your liquid intake; you have an early morning meeting tomorrow! – and your feet are confidently nestled in a pair of sneakers to make things ultra comfy for yourself. A gift-wrapped wristwatch in your hand to add to your best friend's never-ending collection, you have barely stepped through the doors to his humongous townhouse when the bass booming from inside nearly shoves you back.
The place is buzzing like a nightclub with all the lights, crazy music and the horde of people. A well-ventilated, clean and fresh smelling nightclub. You’d honestly go clubbing a hell lot more if actual nightclubs were like this.
Just as you’ve handed your coat to the guy manning the coat closet – like they do at charity balls; good God, Park Jimin throws crazy parties – and taken a step into the foyer, the man of the night materializes before you out of thin air.
“Bestie~! Welcome!”
Wow, how many drinks in is he? Given the way he can’t stop smiling, it has to be at least five. Or maybe he's just running on an adrenaline and serotonin induced high. Won't be the first time.
Cheeks rosy and eyes glazed over, Jimin’s long hair falls into his eyebrows and diamond studs glint in his ears. The red shirt looks nearly black in the dim lights and fits him like a dream. Guy’s dressed to kill – literal sex on legs, and this is coming from someone that doesn’t even wanna have sex with him.
While you make a show of checking him out from bottom to top, wolf-whistling slowly, Jimin bashfully rolls his eyes and places an arm around your shoulders. He drags you into the house, nearly snatching the gift from you with his other hand to deposit it on the giant table full of presents, next to the coat closet.
“Looking good, Park,” you tell him loudly over the music, stumbling despite your shoes because he is literally not letting you use your legs with the way he is hauling you inside.
“I know!” The guy winks at you over his shoulder, which just makes you snort. “Thank you for coming, babe!” he then yells near you in a loud voice, pausing suddenly to turn to face you. “You’re my bestest friend in the world. I love you!”
Barely able to contain your laughter at the glee on his face, you return his hug with the same amount of zeal as him when he squeezes you to himself. In a completely out of character move, Jimin then plants a wet and sloppy mess of kiss to the apple of your cheek, making you flinch. And then cringe in irritation. Because at least five people around you witness it with a hand to their chest.
They're speculating and misunderstanding your relationship, aren't they? God, you need a drink.
Jimin, meanwhile, is grinning so wide, his happiness melts your ire away a little. His smiles have a way of always making your heart feel full.
"Happy birthday, bestie," you tell him while he loops an arm around your waist to drag you to the drinks table.
“Thank you, bestie! Now, because you don’t wanna be hammered, I’d recommend sticking to the champagne and pina colada fountain.”
“Wait, what fount—ohh.”
There’s definitely a fountain placed next to the champagne pyramid, and apparently it isn’t just an ornament.
“Jimin, this party looks insane,” you tell him when you’ve reached the makeshift bar in the corner of his huge living room, and settled onto a stool. “I thought you were forced into throwing this?”
Once he's gotten you a flute of champagne from the guy working the bar, Jimin finally leans against the counter and grins at you. You eye the bartending guy with raised eyebrows. That makes two hired helpers. How much has your best friend spent on this whole thing?
“Of course I was,” Jimin tells you with a shrug, still grinning. “But I won’t bludgeon my reputation just because of some reluctance. I want them to remember this night for the rest of their lives.”
Taking a sip from the glass – and wow, that drink is hella smooth – you squint at him. “Okay. Okay, that's on-brand for you. But what’s gonna be your escape plan when they end up liking it too much and bug you to throw more of these?”
That makes his smile vanish. “Hey, I’m not gonna let myself be convinced every time.”
“You’re a people pleaser, buddy.”
“I’m working on changing that!”
"Which isn’t really working out, Min.”
Jimin scowls at you and you throw your head back in laughter. When you look at him again, he’s eyeing your outfit with raised eyebrows.
“You look good.”
And you look down at yourself as if you didn’t know what you were wearing, which is kinda stupid. Why do you always do this when people compliment your looks?
“Yeah? Thanks, dude.”
Looking up, you try to smile. Try, because Jimin is smirking at you. And not a friendly, teasing smirk either.
No, he's giving you the smirk. The rare and deadlier one. Gaze full of mischief, head tilted as if in contemplation, eyebrows lowered to turn on the smolder. Yeah. That smirk.
This is the exact same smirk he gave you at age twenty-five, when he tried to convince you that if the two of you were still single and lonely when you turned forty, you could get into a lifelong friends-with-benefits relationship.
This is the exact same smirk he gave you at age twenty-one, when he told you about the crush he had on you when you guys were sixteen.
This is the exact same smirk he gave you at age nineteen, when you told him about the crush you had on him when you guys were thirteen.
Yeah, those are some bits from yours and his cherishable but embarrassing and kinda funky past. Also, you still can’t figure out why he waited two years before confessing his side of the said embarrassing past.
Anyways, reverting back to his smirk – this is the kind of smirk Jimin flashes at people when he wants to flirt with them. You’ve been on the receiving end of it for more times than should be normal between two friends. But in his own terms, “flirting is good for health,” so it is what it is.
You’re used to this behavior, too. But – like. Park Jimin is an attractive man. A really attractive man. It’s a basic, known fact to you. He is also a massive flirt, capable of charming the pants off of anybody without trying hard. And though the fact that you two have been friends for a decade and half does make you a lot immune to his looks and his wiles – at the end of the day, you’re only human.
Proven by the uncharacteristic and completely unnecessary flush that overtakes your cheeks when his gaze makes a sweep of your outfit from bottom to top.
Which is why you are biting your tongue and ducking your head to take a sip of the champagne again. It's something you've practiced over the years – if you pretend he's not doing it, he can't force a reaction out of you.
When you meet his challenging gaze again, you’re ready with your smile and wink. "I know."
Jimin's eyebrows raise at that, and the sultry weight lifts off his eyelids. His posture shifts and the seductive veil draped over him leaves. Phew. Attack averted.
"What? I've been practicing self love lately."
“Yeah.” He nods, chuckling. “That’s the reason for your lack of gratitude. And not the fact that I said ‘I know’ when you complimented me earlier, right?”
You put a hand to your chest and widen your eyes. “Why, of course not. I’m not the petty one, Min, it’s you.”
Rolling his eyes, Jimin steals your glass for a sip. You’re about to protest, but a presence on his other side distracts you. He follows your gaze to – a gorgeous, olive skinned woman. Damn, she is stunning.
“Hey, guys. Happy birthday, Jimin,” she wishes Jimin in her melodious voice, but only after flashing you a full smile.
It’s rare for you to receive genuine smiles from women around Jimin. You wanna befriend this woman.
“Avni, hey! Thanks for coming!” Jimin accepts her hug and moves to her other side, offering her a seat between you and him. “Tara said she’d bring her sister.”
The woman nods with a smile, before turning to you with her hand forwarded. “You're the girlfriend, right…?”
Didn't Jimin say she's someone's sister? His colleagues' family members gossip about you two too, then. How wonderful. Your deadpan stare cuts to the guy – causing him to clear his throat with a grimace and step in.
“Avni, meet my best friend.” He tells her your name, and recognition lights her eyes up.
“Oh! Of course! It’s nice to finally meet you! Wait, are you – are you two just friends and not…?”
Okay, now you’re pissed. And wanna hit Jimin. But you can’t do that on his birthday, so you pull on a fake smile and bat your lashes as you shake Avni’s hand. “Oh, no, we’re just friends. But, uh, I’d suggest not going after him regardless.” You lean closer to her, eyeing Jimin’s confused face with a smirk, and lower your voice, “He doesn’t date women, only fucks and chucks them.”
Avni’s jaw drops and Jimin slowly slides off his seat with the widest eyes you’ve ever seen him wear. Your smirk widens to match.
“So if you’re looking for a night full of wild, explosive sex and nothing more? He’s just your guy.”
“O~kay, that’s my cue to go say hi to Tara!” Jimin jumps a foot away from you two, shuffling away before Avni has had a chance to respond.
Barely stifling your laugh, you wave at his hastily retreating back.
Avni still looks a little lost. “What was that about?”
A snort escapes you at her confusion. “Ah, just a joke, sorry about that. It’s just that everyone at his office apparently thinks we’re together when we’re not. Just wanted to fluster him.”
“Oh, I see. You’re not a couple.”
You blink. What was with that emphasis? “I’m sorry… What do you see, exactly?”
She waves a hand. “I mean, I get it. It’s no one’s business whether you’re just fooling around, or whatever. Your labels are your private matter. I apologize for prying.”
Exhaling, you down the remainder of the drink and close your eyes. “I don't know how else to say this, Avni, but we’re not fooling around. Jimin and I are just friends. Platonic ones. We don’t like each other romantically. Or sexually.”
“Really?” Avni gives you a look of disbelief, which feels kinda offensive, to be honest.
You squint at her. “Yes.”
“Sure. I don’t get it, but sure.” She shrugs her shoulders and goes back to sipping at her pina colada.
But you’re left gaping at the woman because what is up with her reactions of disbelief? “What does that mean?”
Rolling her eyes, she gives you a little smirk with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, what's the point of having a best friend as sexy as him if you don't even get off to his face? Not sexually attracted to that piece of ass? Yeah, right.”
Woah, what?
Woah… woah. And now there’s a slideshow of HD pictures of Jimin’s lips in your head. Attached to your body. The thought of him kissing your bare shoulder is sending tingles down your back, what the hell?
Are you sexually attracted to him?
Sure, his flirting flusters you sometimes but that's just objective, right? Right? It has to be. You’d never actually want Jimin, even physically, for Jimin. That’s right. You could appreciate particulars because he’s a good looking guy, but he is your best friend and you would never ever want him for that reason.
No matter how many shivers the mental slideshow continues to send down your spine, and oh—he wears rings doesn't he? And his hands must have veins because he gyms like a freak, right? Interesting.
“You’re thinking about him naked, aren't you?"
“No!” you yelp your way out of your thoughts, deeply disturbed by how quickly they escalated. And also kinda spooked by Avni’s spot-on deduction. “I’m – I’m thinking that I don’t like him sexually, Avni.”
"It's okay, hun. It's perfectly normal to fantasize. Whether you act upon it or not is completely up to you, but all that you think about? No one has to know." Avni looks at you with a very knowing smile, pats your shoulder, and steps away from the bar.
Even as she has disappeared from your sight, lost in the crowd of partying people, her words stick with you. It's definitely not okay or perfectly normal to fantasize about a person you call a friend. It's deception and a breach of their trust in you. It's dishonesty.
Isn't it?
Damn, and now you're second guessing yourself? Just who the hell is this Avni woman for her words to affect you so much? A motivational speaker? A witch?
You can’t let her get to your head.
No. This isn't you and this isn't the kind of friendship you have with Jimin. He's not just a friend of yours, he's your best friend. The bond you share isn't dispensable. The friendship you share isn't something you want to experiment upon.
But then again, Avni did say no one has to know what you think about—
Okay, enough! You shake your head to physically knock the inappropriate pictures out of it, and scowl to yourself in disappointment.
You know what you're thinking about even if no one else does, and you know why it is wrong. Jimin trusts you. He is honest, open and vulnerable with you because he knows you’re his well-wisher, first and foremost. And you will always honor that.
Nevermind the fact this reminds you a bit too much of the beginning of middle school when you barely knew Jimin and had this huge crush on him. That was when you thought up scenarios of kissing him and got butterflies in your stomach about it. No sane twenty-seven year old wants to feel like their thirteen year old self. You need to get a fucking grip on this.
Exhaling, you’re contemplating asking for a refill, when you make a scan of the people near you, and – shit, Min Yoongi is headed this way.
All other thoughts are wiped right off your head as the need to disappear mounts up. This is the only guy in the entire world that terrifies you. More than your dad does, more than your ex ever could. And though he looks like he hasn’t seen you yet, he is heading straight towards the bar which means he’s gonna see you, any minute now.
Quickly vacating your stool, you hurriedly walk away, shooting off into a random direction to mix up in the crowd of people and allow their drunken, dancing bodies to guide you to another end of the room.
When you finally exit the sea of human bodies with a sigh of relief, you look around to find yourself at the mouth of a prettily decorated hallway. Is this the one that leads to your favorite bathroom in Jimin’s entire house, the one with the clawfoot tub? Yeah, it is! It looks so different with all the fairy lights. Really majestic, too. You're gonna ask Jimin to keep it this way.
Walking down the few steps to the bathroom's door, you shrug off the last remaining inappropriate thoughts about Jimin from your head and, deciding upon washing your face, push open the door—
"Fuck, baby, just like that…"
—only to walk in on a naked, male ass bent over the gorgeous ceramic of your beloved clawfoot. While some girl, seated in the bathtub for some ungodly reason, is sucking his soul out of his dick. Who the heck is getting head in your precious bathtub?
Wait…
The shirt on the guy’s back is so dark red, it looks almost black. It’s gorgeous, it compliments the guy’s skin, it fits him like a dream. It’s perfect. It’s also the shirt you helped your best friend buy today.
“What the fuck? Jimin!” you shriek, slapping a hand over your eyes and turning on your heels.
A loud yelp and a feminine gasp echo around the space, after which Jimin yells out your name. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“No – no, what the hell are you doing here?” you complain to him in a louder yell.
Some shuffling and whispers later, a girl scrambles past you. Then a hand grips onto your forearm to spin you around. Jimin’s angry face is looming over yours, cheeks tomato red and hair a mess. If you could be objective about his looks without wanting to pummel him to death, right now, you would say he looks really good. But you’re not.
Because how dare he flash his naked ass to you when you were going through your very bizarre crisis with all these indecent thoughts about his hands and lips? What if you start to think about his ass, too?
“Why didn’t you just leave?” he hisses at you, eyes narrowed and body so close to yours, his citrusy fragrance saturates your lungs.
“Because you thrive on being an exhibitionist, you whore.” You scowl at him, leaning away and crossing your arms against your chest to avoid inhaling more of the citrus that is making your head spin. “This huge of a house and you had to get it on in the one bathroom that I love?”
“Hey, this is my house and it’s my birthday. And this area was off-limits for the party people.”
Was it? You have no idea because you’re not party people; ‘co-host’ describes you better. “You’re still a whore.”
“What?”
“Yes! I specifically asked you to ensure I don’t stumble upon your naked ass, didn’t I? Seriously, the disrespect, Min?”
Jimin rolls his eyes and rakes a hand through his hair, which – woah, he wears a ring in each finger, then. Okay, no, your mind needs to chill the fuck down, because this is getting crazily out of hand.
“I didn't know someone would come running in here! I left you peacefully drinking at the bar, how was I to know…hey, speaking of – what the fuck was that with Avni?”
Grimacing, you hold both your hands up in a placating gesture. “One mess at a time, Min.”
“You know what?” He grunts and pushes you against the wall with a hand on your shoulder. “Sometimes you annoy me so much, I wanna physically shut you up…”
What – the holy hell?
His lips are in front of your face, parted and wet, and his gaze is so fucking dark, you cannot tell his pupils apart from his irises. And he has a hand resting next to your face, forearm and ringed fingers lewdly on display. All of that accompanied with the cologne you are inhaling with every ragged breath? A throb begins to build up between your legs.
And yet you manage to whisper, “Fantasize about fucking my throat often, Park?”
He freezes, eyes slightly widened and brows slightly lifted, but his gaze falls straight to your lips. Wait… is he fantasizing about it now?
With that, all the images you'd worked hard to burn off your brain are back with vengeance. Fuck, and now you also know how he moans during a blowjob?
Fuck fuck fuck, you’re about to ruin your friendship with him forever if you don’t reel this in.
Why couldn’t he have just taken the damn girl up to his bedroom?!
“Or slitting it…?” you add in a conspiratorial whisper, doing your best to wiggle your eyebrows and pull up the cheekiest grin you can muster, even if you secretly struggle with regulating your breathing.
Jimin’s rounded eyes snap up to meet yours, and then fill up with humor. He pulls his lips together in a line, eyebrows furrowed in faux anger. “How about the former… followed by the latter?”
And just like that, everything is back to normal and you’re slapping him away from you. “I won’t even put necrophilia past you, you demented horny mess…”
“What? I take offense to that!” He is laughing, though, facing the mirror to adjust his hair. “While we’re on it, let’s not forget about the hidden voyeur in you.”
“Yeah, because voyeurism is the same as necrophilia.” When he raises an alarmed eyebrow at you in the mirror, you roll your eyes. “Not that I intended to watch you! It was an honest mistake. I didn’t know you’d be in here. Or that you’d be naked with the door unlocked.” You give an incredulous laugh. “What in the name of exhibitionism was that about, Min?”
“I was in a hurry, she was unbuttoning me in the hallway!” He scrunches his nose for a moment before narrowing his eyes at you. “But you could have silently left?”
“I saw your butt, my corneas were incinerated. I couldn’t let you orgasm in peace after that, could I?”
A snort escapes him, and you join him in the laughter.
This is good. This is normal. This is what the two of you are about – no matter how tense or uncomfortable things get for you, you both always revert back to being two idiots that care about each other. Because you are friends. The best of friends who have no romantic or sexual attraction between them, but would still die for one another. You’re homies. Bros. For life.
When Jimin is done adjusting his hair and you have actually washed your face and touched up some of your makeup, he drapes a hand over your shoulders and walks out. Classic homie behavior, right?
You look up at his grinning face and sigh. “Sorry about the girl, by the way. You think she’ll come back if you call her?”
“Improbable,” Jimin gives a snort, but then he shrugs. “But someone else will. I’m a catch, babe. Don’t worry about me.”
He gives your shoulder a squeeze – and as you feel the metal of his rings press innocently into your skin, you realize it’s not him you’re worried about.
A pair of lips is traveling up your thighs, hot against your cold skin, lighting a fire up that burns in the depths of your stomach.
You've never felt these lips before, but you know them – they are Jimin’s.
The cloud-like softness and plush plumpness could belong to no one but your best friend's God given cupid's bow. You've spent fifteen years looking at them, sometimes to concentrate on his words, sometimes because they had a milkshake mustache above them, sometimes because they looked suspiciously kiss-swollen, and sometimes just…because you wanted to.
Which is why even though you've never felt them before, you know them. You know how they would feel.
This is exactly how you imagined they would feel.
Your best friend is kissing his way up your thighs, and it's the best feeling in the world.
Your eyelids slowly part to peer down at the guy, a hand reaching out towards his head to grip onto his tuft of golden, overgrown hair.
“Jimin?” you whisper.
“Hm?” comes a murmur back, making you shiver.
“Please…”
He wordlessly moves his mouth to the center of your thighs. Parting your legs, with his warm fingers adorned with cold rings, he runs his tongue up and down your opening twice, before latching onto your bundle of nerves. Your hands tug at his hair, back arching off the bed, and a broken whine escapes you.
“You like that?” he speaks into your pussy, dirty promises in his voice.
“Yes,” you whimper, widening your legs and pushing his face further into you. “More…”
“Mm hm,” he murmurs, now pushing two of his fingers into you and fuck, that feels so fucking good, you’re gonna explode. “Are you close, sweetums?”
The pet name stuns you for a moment, but you recover quickly and moan out a yes, unwilling to let the momentum of your build-up drop.
“I’ll let you come if you promise me one teeny, tiny thing…”
Why is he talking like that? You never pegged Jimin for someone that would struggle with dirty talk.
Your peak has been disturbed again, but you indulge him with a, “Anything, baby…”
“Anything?”
“Yeah…”
And then he lifts his head up to flash a wide, toothy grin at you from between your legs. His mouth is coated in your juices, eyes are dark, cheeks are rosy, but that smile? Is kinda creeping you out. You hesitantly swallow.
“Uh, Jimin, what—”
“Go out with Yoongi!”
What? “No!”
“Yes! I literally only agreed to do this with you to convince you to go out with him!” He’s pouting now, sitting between your legs shirtless, with his hands crossed.
What the fuck is going on…?
“What am I gonna tell him now?”
“He knows you’re here?”
“He’s right outside!” Jimin’s eyes sparkle as he looks towards the door to the bedroom, and before you can stop him, he yells out, “Come in here, Yoongs!”
You shake your head vigorously, but can’t formulate any words. Something is lodged in your throat, and you keep mouthing the word no, but it just doesn’t fucking come out, no matter how much you repeat it –
No! No!
NO!
“Nooo~!”
You sit up in bed, ready to cover yourself up with a pillow, but – find yourself to be alone.
Where is Jimin? Are you… clothed? You’re still dripping wet, thought, but—
Hey, you remember going to bed alone. You’d gathered your bag from your car, grabbed some dinner, and slipped into this guest room that you have claimed as yours in Jimin’s house ever since he moved in. The last you saw of the guy was in the living room, sandwiched between two girls and somehow humping them both.
He never visited your room.
Does that mean you were having… a dream?
That was a fucking dream?
Jimin went down on you and then tried to convince you to date Yoongi in the middle of it? He called you sweetums? And used words like ‘teeny-tiny’?
What the fuck is wrong with your brain?
You collapse back onto the soft mattress of Jimin’s spare bedroom – that has basically been turned into your second address over the months – and cover your face with both your hands. You’ve got a presentation to give tomorrow morning and this is what your subconscious mind is thinking about?
The next meeting with your therapist is gonna be wild.
After the kind of evening and night you have had, the morning feels anticlimactic when your alarm shrills in your ear at six am. You barely got four hours of sleep and that too was riddled with dreams that you’d rather not try to recall.
You enter the kitchen, still in your pajamas, to find Jimin dressed in a formal shirt and pants, reading something on his tablet with a cup of coffee in his other hand. This feels so shockingly normal. Mundane, even.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Jimin laughs at your state, holding a fist out for you. “You look minutes away from death. Sleepless night?"
To say the least. “Morning,” you mumble in response, rubbing at an eye, and lazily drag your feet up to the guy to bump your fist against his.
"I left some coffee in the pot for you," he tells you with a smile.
He’s literally the best best friend in the world. You flash a dopey smile back at him, nodding in gratitude as you begin to move your feet again – but then your gaze really catches your best friend’s appearance. And decides to stay there for a while.
The white shirt Jimin has on is folded up to his elbows, and damn, his forearms have veins too? You never noticed before. His hair is styled away from his forehead, giving him a clean look that you can’t stop staring at. Has he always looked this good with his forehead on display? Has he always worn these hoops in his ears? You’re pretty sure he has. To both of those.
And yet you cannot stop looking at him in maniacal fascination, because scenes from that dumb fucking dream you had last night keep popping up in your head, uninvited. Ugh.
Jimin eventually notices your unhinged staring, glancing down at himself and then back up at you with a wary gaze. “Um, what?”
“What?”
“What’s with that look?” He puts his tablet aside. “You okay? Did I do something?”
You rest your chin on a palm and frown at him. “Kinda. I had a wet dream about you last night.”
Jimin spits coffee out his mouth and nostrils, sending the liquid spraying across the table. “What the—what?"
"I dreamt about you. It was sexual and—"
"You ever think – you ever think we need some filters between us?" His voice comes out high pitched. "What the hell, dude?"
“Unconditional friendships come with unfiltered confessions, shut the fuck up,” you murmur and finally move to pour yourself some coffee.
When you return to your seat across the breakfast table from him, Jimin is still staring at you, almost unblinkingly. You look at your mug and take a sip of the delicious brew, humming in satisfaction when the liquid immediately starts to supply the tired veins of your brain with some much needed energy. Which also makes you recall that Jimin’s hair was blonde in your dream. Damn. You haven’t seen him with that hair in so long.
This is when the said guy clears his throat. You look up to find him squinting at you, and narrow your eyes back at him. “What?”
“Did we have sex?”
Your face scrunches up in a scowl. “Why do you wanna know?”
“It’s my body, I wanna know what you imagined!” he states with his eyes widened and brows curved.
You groan at his words, shutting your eyes to shake your head. “Firstly, I didn’t imagine you naked, it was a dream. And secondly, I don’t even have to imagine because I already know what you look like, dude. You’ve given me a full-frontal numerous times in the past.”
Jimin gapes at your words. “Hey, the last time that happened was at least five years ago, when we all went skinny dipping. And everyone was high as a kite, I’m sure you remember nothing about my body!”
Drawing another sip from the warm drink, you blink at him. “What is your point?”
“Well, I–I’ve built way better thigh muscles and more pronounced abs, recently.” He frowns at his leg, knocking at the muscle near his knee. Then he looks up and grins at you. “Oh, and I also have an Adonis belt now!”
He looks so proud of himself for that, it’s as endearing as it is funny. You nod with a hum. “You’ve always had the Adonis belt, though.”
“Yeah, well, it’s more defined now.”
Your mug pauses near your mouth. Why the hell is he trying to endorse his muscles to you? As tempting as the mental imagery is, you put a firm lock on it and instead tilt your head at your best friend. “Jimin. Do you want me to see you naked?”
Removing his hands from his abdomen, he stares at you, wide-eyed, looking horrified. “What? No! What—”
“Then what the hell is this conversation? Why’re you bragging about your body to me when I just told you I had a wet dream about you?”
“I…” He trails off with a frown, looking into space. Then he nods at you with a grimace, one hand raised up in surrender. “I see your point.”
You shake your head with a snort, draining the rest of the mug. The clock on Jimin’s fridge tells you it’s twelve past seven. You step off the chair with a sigh. “Hey, I gotta get ready soon. You’ll drop me off?”
Jimin breaks out of his thoughts and looks at the clock above his shoulder. “If we leave in the next eighteen minutes.”
Nodding, you rush out of the kitchen. “I only need fifteen!”
