#pjm series

[yooboobies]

eeny minie tiny mochi | dedicated for @jkvjimin tiny tan (7/7)

{cr. 0613data, namuspromised}

[writtenwhalien]

a lover's redemption | chapter 1

chapter 1. way down we go

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ 10k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and share xoxoxox i'll confirm the release date of chapter 2 soon—this fic is a lot of work lol so in the meantime pls enjoy this longer chapter <3 and i used korean family names bc its a jimin fic and its hard to try and think of any other way that flows/to not use names, sorry not sorry, just imagine what you want xx

14th September 2003

“That’s it, good girl, Y/N—ow!” 

Your dad clutched his leg after a particularly hard roundhouse kick to his thigh. 

“Haha, well done, Y/N,” your granddad laughed from the side, clapping his hands in praise of you which motivated you to keep going. 

Going in for another front punch, you dodged your dad’s punches – which he pulled to avoid hurting you – and then you came in with a sharp jab to his ribs. 

“Ah, gosh, okay, okay,” he chuckled, taking a step back off the mat. “I think we should finish for the day, I’m gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow.”

“Was I good?” you asked, eager to hear your dad’s compliments as always. 

“You were amazing, dear,” your granddad said, stepping forward and ruffling your hair. “You remember what I told you, yes?”

“Yes,” you nodded, stating the next words like a mantra. “Self defence is a state of mind that begins with the belief you are worth defending.” It’s what your granddad had told you since you started training last year at the age of five.

“Still got it,” your dad smiled, kneeling down to help you pull off your shin guards. “You can show Jae-ho the combination tomorrow, but for now, let’s go get ready for dinner before your mom kills me.”

Beaming, you ripped your gloves off. “Can we go again before class tomorrow?”

“Of course we can,” your dad said, patting your back, and together you raced out of the summer room and back into the house, as your granddad followed leisurely behind you. 

“Mom, I learned a new combination today!” you beamed, climbing up onto the stool at the breakfast counter.

Your mom smiled at you, her apron covered in flour as she puts a tray into the oven. “That’s amazing sweetie, I’ll watch it tomorrow when Jae-ho comes over, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching over and taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

Taking off her apron, your mom walked around the counter towards you. “Ah, your hair is all sweaty, you must have been working really hard.” She took out your hair tie, combing through your hair with her fingers.

“Ow,” you grimaced, still munching on your apple. “It was really hot.”

She laughed. “I’m sure it was.” 

“There she is!” The sound of your grandma’s voice made you turn around. She smiled as she came towards you. “Let’s get you bathed before dinner.”

“Do I have to?” you grumbled.

Your grandma paused, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell?” 

Laughing, you hopped off the stool and ran towards the door. “It’s you, grandma!”

“What?!” She laughed with mock surprise, looking at your mom. “Is it me?”

“Hm…” Your mom paused and played along, sniffing your grandma. “Nu-uh.” She looked at you. “I think it’s coming from our pretty princess over there.” 

“I thought so,” your grandma smiled, before she and your mom proceeded to chase you through the house while you ran down the corridors and laughed gleefully. As you jumped on your parents bed, trying to make a beeline for their bathroom door, your mom caught you, cuddling you and smothering you in kisses before you eventually had to have a bath. Your grandma styled your hair in a ponytail with a pretty headband of your choice. You chose a blue one to match your dress and together you made your way downstairs. 

As you entered the living room, your dad turned around and behind him stood a tall man with dark hair neatly slicked back. 

“Y/N, honey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” your dad said, smiling reassuringly as he took your hand. 

You’d met a lot of your dad’s friends and they all seemed nice. But this man was different. He didn’t look kind at all. As you approached, your attention was stolen by a boy standing close behind the man. He looked around your age, with brown hair and brown eyes. His cheeks were round and rosy which gave him a playful and friendly appearance, except for the unmistakable fact that he looked scared. 

“This is my friend, Jihoon, and his son, Jimin.”

At first you felt nervous, looking between your dad and the big stern looking man beside him. Glancing at your grandma, you eased up when she nudged you and smiled. 

“Why don’t you say hello, Y/N?” she said.

Your dad kneeled down as you looked up at the man. “You can say hello if you want, sweetie.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N,” the man said, his lips curving into what must’ve meant to have been a smile — you thought it made him look scarier. “I’m your uncle Jihoon.” He extended his hand. 

Timidly, you shook it. Then your gaze fell to the boy standing behind him.

“Jimin.” Jihoon’s voice was suddenly sharp as he summoned his son to come forward. 

Looking up at his father in what you could only interpret as fear, he took a few steps forward and stopped in front of you. “Hello, I’m Jimin,” he said quietly, putting his hand forward just like his father did. 

“Hi, Jimin,” you said, reaching for his hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

6 years later 17th July 2009

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, bringing in ample light to the summer room. Arranged messily on the table were pots of paint and brushes with a few complete canvases surrounding you as you worked. The canvas in front of you was a mix of vibrant colours, some careful strokes and others wild splashes you had crafted as you concentrated hard, your hand gripping the brush as you attempted to follow your father’s lead.

He had almost completed his piece, after many days working on it. A black sky tinged with deep hues of blue, and a single spear of lightning emerged through dark, swirling clouds, casting a pale, cold light reflecting off of the tempestuous sea of violent waves.

“Oh no,” you frowned, sitting back to get a better look at your work. “I ruined it.”

Your dad glanced over, smiling softly. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s just different now, which is good.”

“But it doesn’t look how I wanted. It’s messy now.”

Your dad paused, getting up from his position in front of his much more professional easel to come and look at your work. Then, he dipped his brush in one of the colours you created and added a soft swirl, then another. You watched quietly as he added more.

“Things don’t always turn out how we want them to, sweetheart. That happens a lot in life. But you can always choose what to do next, even when things get messy.”

“What do you mean?”

Your dad set the paint brush down and sat on the chair next to you. Lines creased his forehead, his expression becoming sombre. It was something you’d been noticing more over the past few years.  

“Y/N, there will be times when everything around us feels messy or wrong — like people are not being kind, or things not going how we planned. You can’t always change that. But what you can control is how you act, even when everything feels hard. Being a good person means doing the right thing, even when the world around you isn’t.”

You frowned, thinking hard. “But what if people are mean, or if bad things happen? How do I be good when that’s happening?”

Your dad smiled warmly. “It’s like painting. Sometimes, you’ll have dark colors, or you’ll make a mistake. But you get to decide what comes next. You can add light, bring in something beautiful, even if the first stroke didn’t go how you wanted. You don’t have to paint what’s around you—you can paint what’s in here.” Gently, he tapped your chest over your heart.

Looking down, you began to understand. “So… even if everything’s messy, I can still make something pretty?”

“Exactly. You can always choose to do the right thing, to be kind, to help someone, even if others aren’t. It’s not always easy, but that’s what makes it important. Being a good person isn’t about waiting for things to be perfect, it’s about being good, even when things aren’t.”

You nodded, picking up your paintbrush and adding a swirl of your own. “Like this?”

With a grin, your dad nodded. “That’s perfect. You see? No matter how dark or messy things seem, you can always choose to make it better.”

“I want to do that, dad. I want to make things better, like you do.”

Your dad smiled, pulling you into a hug. “You already do, sweetheart.” 

You hugged him back, smiling when you felt him kiss the top of your head. Pulling away, you hopped off the chair. “What about yours? Is it finished?”

“I think so.”

“Lightning…  is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel. 

“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint. 

“What does it mean?”

“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”

You looked up, frowning.

He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.”

“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky. “Who is it for?” you asked.

Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”

You looked at your dad and noticed he looked sad. “Are you not friends anymore?”

He shook his head, a smile returning. “We are. Dad’s just being silly.” He patted your shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s go have dinner. All this painting has made me hungry.”

Dinner passed peacefully that night with your parents and grandparents conversing as they always did, and you spent most of the time poking your mom’s belly to try to get your growing baby brother to respond. 

Then, as soon as your dad finished eating, he got a text. Everyone on the dinner table went quiet and for a moment, you were forgotten.

“It’s Han-jae,” your dad said quietly. “He’s asked to see me.”

Your granddad exhaled slowly and you saw how your mothers hand tensed around her fork. 

“I told you not to get involved,” she murmured, looking at your dad with worry. 

He reached for her hand, caressing it gently. “I had to, love, you know that.”

“Why you?” she implored, almost desperately. “Why couldn’t you ask someone else.”

“I don’t know who to trust right now, Jihoon hasn’t been himself lately.”

“Jihoon is the same as always, he’s a cold man,” your mother answered.

“Sae-yi is right. Jihoon has always been a heartless person.”

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t trust him with this."

“Then don’t." Your mom took your fathers hands in both of hers. “But do you have to go?”

Your dads face gave her the answer and she sighed, grip loosening on his hand.

“Honey,” he whispered, closing his hand around hers firmly again and leaning in. “I’ll have my men with me, we’ll be back within an hour, I promise.” Smiling, he kissed her on the lips. “I’ve known Han-jae almost all my life, nothing’s going to happen.”

Your mother’s worried expression didn’t falter. “He’s the one who’s changed. I don’t trust him, not after what he was going to do to Jiyoung.” 

“I know,” your dad said, moving his hand in to hold your mom's cheek. “And that’s why I can’t let him know anything’s up, Ji-young isn’t safely out of the country yet so I should go.”

Leaning into his touch, your mom sighed. “Your heart's too big for this world, Sehun.”

Your dad smiled, pressing his forehead against hers and placing his hand on her swollen tummy. “It’s just big enough for you and my beautiful family.” He looked across at you sitting beside your mother and took your hand too, kissing it softly. “Look after your mama while I’m away, and we’ll have some dessert when I get back, okay?”

You nodded, confused yet reassured by your father’s smile. Nodding back, your dad kissed your mother once more before saying goodbye to your grandparents too. Your mom and granddad walked him out while your grandma stayed with you and made you finish your dinner.

The first half hour passed as normal. You stayed sitting with your grandma while your mom and granddad spoke privately in the kitchen. That was nothing new to you, you’d grown up with the adults having many private conversations out of earshot, so nothing felt off… until another fifteen minutes later.

Your mom wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth, her phone in her hand. “Neither of them are replying to my texts. He always replies, always.” You could hear the panic in her voice, the slight tremor that shook you deeply inside.

Then your grandma had the maid get you ready for bed, and you couldn’t hear what the grown-ups were whispering anymore. You were used to being sent to bed like this so you did what you always did — you sat by your bedroom window to watch the blacked out cars that usually come and go in the driveway. Except this time there weren’t any cars so instead you clambered on to your bed to read a book while you waited for your dad. 

As you grew bored, you remembered your dad promised to be back within the hour… glancing at the clock in your room, you realised he was late. 26 minutes late. 

A pit of worry grew in your stomach and you wished to be near your mom, so you got out of bed and walked to the door, your favourite book in your hand as you hoped to read to your little brother like you’d done so many times before.

Clutching it tightly, you walked out of your room towards the staircase, and then you heard it —  your mothers heart wrenching scream. 

At that moment, you knew your dad wasn’t going to be coming back home. 

present day

“One cappuccino please, and a croissant too.”

Without looking up from where you’re still folding the tea towels, you respond to the customer. “To eat in or takeaway?”

“Eat in.”

“Coming right up.” You fold the last one, patting it down before turning to face the customer. “That’ll be 9000 won plea– oh.” You pause, looking at the man behind the counter. “Hello again.”

“Hi, Y/N.” He smiles warmly, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his black trenchcoat. 

“Ah, you remember my name.”

“And you don’t remember mine,” he grins, nodding his head when you wince apologetically. “Seojun.”

“Seojun,” you repeat. “I’ll remember that now, I promise.”

He chuckles, placing a 50000 won note on the counter. “Don’t sweat it. And keep the change,” he says, turning around to seat himself at the closest table.

You pick it up, shaking your head. “Again?”

He folds his coat over the empty chair beside him before smoothing down the lapels of his suit jacket. “Yes, and don’t try to give me an extra muffin to make up for it.”

You deposit the bill into the till and put the change in the tip jar. Glancing at him, you see him looking over his shoulder out the window. “Did you at least like it?”

Seojun turns back and smiles. “Nope.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just being honest, I’m not a fan of blueberries,” he shrugs. “If you’re gonna give me anything, I'll take another coffee to go, iced americano this time.”

“Hmph, whatever,” you mumble, getting to work on his cappuccino. “I worked on that muffin recipe for weeks.”

“Try less baking powder maybe?” You shoot him a look when he says this and he puts his hands up defensively. “Or not.”

“Maybe if you weren’t tipping so much, I wouldn’t have to give you a muffin,” you say, steaming the milk for his drink.

“There’s a jar there for a reason,” he points out, nodding to the tip jar on the counter which you’ve kept there for your younger employees on top of the generous wage you pay them.

“Fair.” You finish preparing his cappuccino and plate up the croissant, walking over to his table. “Just don’t diss my muffins.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, doing little to hide the amusement in his voice. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes, smiling as you place his order down. “Here.” 

“Sit with me,” he says, kicking the seat out from in front of him. 

Pausing, you look at the only other occupied table. They seem fine, so you take Seojun’s offer, getting yourself a muffin and slipping into the seat while he looks over his shoulder again.

“Expecting someone?” you ask, breaking off a piece. 

“Hm?” He faces forward again, quickly shaking off the serious expression on his face. “Oh, no.” Smiling, he takes a sip of his coffee.

“How’s your girlfriend?” you ask, remembering the last conversation you had with him in which he told you all about his plans to surprise his girlfriend with a handcrafted bracelet made by himself. Apparently the diamonds from Tiffany’s just don’t feel special to him anymore. 

You smiled when he said that to you – it reminded you of your dad. It was easy enough to walk into a store and order the most expensive jewels, so he preferred to pour his time and effort into surprising your mom with paintings. He was good at it too, something you’ve grown to be envious of since you can’t say he passed the same talent to you.

Seojun smiles. “She’s good. Loved the bracelet.”

This makes you smile. “I’m glad.”

“How’s your grandma?”

“She’s great,” you nod. The last conversation you had with Seojun, was actually also the first. He walked into the cafe last week and immediately started a conversation with you. At first, you were slightly wary, but you’re always cautious so you went along with it. He’s a nice guy, and truthfully, you were glad for a change from all the college gossip you were used to hearing from your younger employees. They have a lot of drama, some of which bores you. 

Speaking with Seojun just seems familiar, like speaking with an old friend. 

“How’s her gallery?”

“Busy. She barely even calls me these days.”

Seojun chuckles. “Maybe you should visit her, I’m sure she’d like it.” 

At this, you pause, smiling. “I should. It’s been a while since I've seen her.” Your fork pokes aimlessly at the muffin. “I’ve just been a bit busy.”

“With the cafe?”

“Huh?” You look at Seojun, only to catch him looking back towards you just in time. That’s the third time he’s looked over his shoulder.

“I asked if you’re busy with the cafe,” he repeats, quickly looking down to take a bite of his croissant.

“Well, yeah,” you lie, also looking down. It’s a simple answer when the truth is more complicated. 

Seojun looks at you, eyes slightly rounded in concern. “It might be a good idea to take a break, no? Get out of Seoul and stay with her for a while.” 

This gives you pause, and you stare at him. “I don’t think I'll be leaving Seoul for a while,” you answer, watching him carefully. 

But before he can respond, you’re interrupted by your phone ringing in your back pocket. Pulling it out, you see your grandma is calling. Glancing up at Seojun, he’s now looking down at his half empty cup while tensely rubbing his thumb against the side of his tight fist.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, getting up and answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N, sweetheart?”

You frown, immediately hearing something off in her tone. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Seojun looking through his suit pockets for something. You face forward again. “Yes, it’s me. Are you okay? You don’t normally call this early.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the phone as you hear your grandma let out a small sigh. “I’m well,” she says. “I just needed to make sure you’re fine.”

“I am, but you already know that,” you remind her. “I called you this morning.”

“I know.” There’s another soft silence.

“Did something happen?” you ask, an uncertain feeling brewing in your chest. Your grandma has never had any reason to call like this before. Maybe if she knew of the midnight runs you frequently went on, she would, but as it happens, she doesn’t. You’ve made sure of that by having Yoongi promise to keep it from her, and his own father, Min Hyun-tae who is the closest confidante of your grandma.

Eventually, she answers. “I heard there’s been some trouble with the Cheong’s and… ah, never mind. I was just worried.”

You frown – Yoongi should’ve told you this too. “Well, what is it?”

“Don’t worry about it, just stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Moni, what is it–”

“Y/N,” she interrupts, her voice suddenly stern. “Whatever it is, it’ll pass over in a few days.”

Holding your tongue, you exhale heavily through your nose. You know your grandma is only this protective of you to keep you safe and she has every reason to worry, which makes it harder that you have to lie to her so often. 

“Okay. Promise me you’ll stay safe too.”

Your grandma chuckles. “I’m living a quiet life here in Namwon, dear. Don’t worry about me.”

She’s safe, you remind yourself. Away from the memories and danger here in Seoul. “Okay, I love you,” you say softly.

“I love you too. Bye now.”

Ending the call, you can’t ignore the feeling that remains in your chest, and when you turn around, you’re surprised to see that Seojun has gone. All that’s left on the table is the dishes and his receipt. Drawing closer, you see he’s scribbled something on the back of it: She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her. 

In the two conversations you’ve had with Seojun, you haven’t once mentioned any other family member, and he never asked, yet he seems to know that it’s just you and her left…

Suddenly, it occurs to you that maybe Seojun knows who you are. 

After your father was killed, your granddad went to great lengths to protect the rest of you, which included keeping your family information strictly secure – even now if you were to go down to a police station, they would have trouble finding much information on you except what you want them to know. Only someone who knows your family could know that it’s just you and her, because your mother’s medical records of her death following her cardiac arrest during early labour are completely unobtainable, as are your granddad’s after his pneumonia.

Looking out of the cafe window, you scan the streets and see no sign of Seojun anywhere. 

You need to call Yoongi. That’s the first thing you need to do and after that, you’ll look into Seojun. Your conversation with him and your grandma is still playing on your mind, even now as you rush down the streets to get to your car. 

As you brush past people, you accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble, looking towards the face of the guy you just bumped into.

He smiles, shaking his head as he pats your arm. “Don’t worry.”

Pursing your lips, you nod and smile before resuming your walk. Another twenty minutes later, you’re pulling up towards the gate of your home. Although it’s a modest sized house (still slightly larger than the average), your grandma insisted on your extra security.  

“Good evening, miss,” your guard, Dani, calls out, smiling and waving as she opens the gate from her station.

“Hey, Dani,” you smile, slowing the car down next to her to talk through the window. “Anything today?”

She jumps up onto the ledge, shaking her head. “Nope. A camera around the back picked up some movement just a little while ago but Siho checked it out, was nothing...”

You’re barely paying attention to her as your mind still wanders on Seojun.

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you look at her, slightly startled.

Dani smiles. “Long day?”

“Something like that.” 

Her expression softens. “Make sure you eat well tonight, hm?”

“I will,” you nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Sure.” She waves you on as you drive further onto your property, parking in the driveway.

Dani and Siho are the guards you employed when your grandma told you to. They both have a past in the military but retired early for whatever reason (they don’t talk about it much and you don’t ask). In truth, you’re very grateful to them – some nights it’s easier to sleep knowing they’re helping to look out for you.

Grabbing your purse from the passenger seat, you get out of your car and walk towards the house. 

Everything seems normal as you unlock the front door, entering the wide hallway downstairs – you have no reason to notice the drops of blood by the kitchen door – so you take your shoes off and hang your coat and bag in the cloakroom as you normally would before heading upstairs to your bedroom. 

But when you get to the top, you halt, noticing something. Far less obvious than droplets of blood, it’s the sight of your bedroom door left slightly open. You always close your bedroom door. It’s just a habit you’ve always had to close the door when you leave…

Immediately, your senses become more alert, your ears perking up for any noise in the house.  It’s odd, you don’t understand how anyone could’ve gotten into the house as long as Dani and Siho have been guarding the house. Unless, thinking back on the day, you know you have good reason to be on alert.

So you tread silently towards your room, kicking it open and—

Nothing. Your room is exactly as you left it this morning. You relax after checking a few possible hiding spots and finding them empty. But still, you know to be more cautious than this, so you take the handgun from the drawer in your nightstand and check all the other rooms. 

The metal feels light in your hand, even though you’ve never actually used this particular gun since Hyun-tae gave it to you on the night of the only break-in at the home in Namwon. You were only sixteen, wide-eyed and terrified when he told you to stay with your grandma and not come out until he came back. 

The gun was a last resort, of course you knew that the many men guarding the house would intercept whoever was threatening what was left of your family, but even then, it made you feel safer, more sure of yourself. Just as it does now while you walk through your house, alert for any movements.

Your body freezes as you spot the droplets of blood on the floor. 

Now that’s not your blood.

Muscle memory takes over as your thumb moves to cock the gun. Your heart beats harder in your chest, every sense on high alert as you silently stand behind the kitchen door. 

Holding your breath, you can make out the quiet sounds of heavy, laboured breathing… you inch slowly towards the edge as far as you can to peer in and see no one from where you are. 

Exhaling slowly, you count down to three before stepping into the kitchen, gun aimed as you quickly scan the kitchen and then you see the intruder, the aim of your gun following your sight.

Collapsed on the floor against your kitchen wall, a tall man holds his hand against his chest where a deep red stain spoils the white shirt of his suit. He looks up at you, face desperate yet determined.

“Don’t shoot, it’s me.”

Flicking on your kitchen light, you stare at him for a second until you recognise him… “Seojun?” A knot of uncertainty and fear tightens in the pit of your stomach.

Immediately you uncock your gun, rushing over to him. “What happened? Why are you here?” You reach for his wound to apply pressure but his bloodied hand closes around yours, stopping you. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

Looking up, you meet his gaze and the fear in his expression sends shivers down your spine despite you being confused. “Let me help you,” you say shakily, hands moving to his wound again.

Seojun weakly shakes his head, trying to reach for your arm again. “No, Y/N, you need to leave,” he says, voice firm despite his severe injury.

“You need an ambulance,” you say, ignoring the slight tremble of your hands. “I’ll call an ambu—”

“No,” he interrupts, pulling on your hand again before crying out quickly from the quick movement. “Your guards,” he breathes, “they’ll keep you safe, Jimin will keep you safe, you need to go.”

The sound of him in pain sends panic rushing through you and yet he still seems adamant about what he’s saying. “W-what are you talking about?” your voice is still shaky as you ignore the firm hold of his hand on your wrist to keep pressure on him.

Seojun cries out quietly again but still fumbles for something in his suit jacket pocket. He pulls out a small black flash drive, thrusting it into your chest. “Give this to Jimin, tell him to use it.”

Eyes wide, you take the flash drive from him and slip it into your back jean pocket.

“You can’t let anyone else get it,” he continues, breathing hard as he winces in pain. “No one except him.”

“Okay,” you nod, squeezing his palm gently to reassure him although your mind is still stuck on trying to process the bleeding man in your kitchen to even take in what he’s saying. “I promise, now let me call you an ambulance—”

“There’s no time, I’m sorry, they’re coming,” he says, desperately now. “I won’t be able to help you.”

“Seojun, what—“

The sound of a window being smashed at the front of your house cuts the words off in your throat and Seojun’s hand tightens around your wrist. 

“Y/N,” he says, voice firmer and louder than before. “Go.” 

You look back at him, heart pounding frantically in your chest as you hear multiple voices coming from somewhere in your house. Seojun starts to stand up, using you to help him. 

He’s leaning against the wall, the fatal wound to his chest forgotten as he pulls his gun out and grasps you tightly around the arm. “Now.”

The voices outside get louder, and there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to listen to Seojun – you need to go. 

Closing your fingers around your own gun again, you nod, pushing down the part of you that wants to stay with Seojun. He’s injured and you know if he doesn’t get help now he’s going to bleed out. However, you also know a fatal wound when you see one, and so does Seojun.

He’s filling the barrel of his gun with bullets as the voices get louder and you know that he’s about to buy you the time you need to get away. Because of that, you do as he asks.

Blinking back tears, you step away from him and towards the back door of the kitchen while cocking your gun again. Before you even get there, the kitchen window is being smashed in and you coil instinctively to avoid the flying shards of glass.

From somewhere behind you, you hear Seojun yell your name but you’re now focused on the man who’s standing ahead of you with a hammer in his hand. Gun raised, you shoot at him but he darts sideways before swinging his arm towards you with the hammer.

He misses you by an inch as you duck and aim your gun at him again. But before you can shoot, he grabs the gun and tugs hard, pulling you into his body. With a loud grunt, he raises the hammer and gets ready to take another swing at you, except the sound of three shots firing pierce the air and his body falls to the floor beside you.

Head turning around wildly, you see Seojun still leaning against the wall with his gun aimed towards you. He just saved your life. Before you can even get the words out to thank him, two more men jump through the kitchen window and the voices from out in the hallway show their  faces.

There’s half a dozen of them in total and you have no way out now. Seojun pulls on your hand to keep you close to him and it dawns on you now that this isn’t like anything you’re used to – these men are trained fighters, not just some lousy guards put out to watch a warehouse or defend a shipment of weapons. You’ve trained since a young age too, so you know you could at least fight them one on one, but this is different. These men are dangerous and you have no doubt that they’re the ones who put the fatal bullet into Seojun.

As you look around at them, you find yourself staring at one of them… he looks familiar and it suddenly returns to you that he’s the man who bumped into you outside your cafe–

“Y/N,” Seojun whispers harshly, “help is coming so run as soon as you get the chance, okay?”

You nod subtly, watching as the men part for one of them, undoubtedly their leader, to step closer. He’s a tall man, butch and quite frankly, frightening. His eyes are focused on Seojun and his upper lip curls as he sneers.

 “...All of that, for nothing.” His voice is emotionless and laced with wickedness, as he seems to delight in seeing life leaving the once healthy body in front of him.

“Oh shut up, Minjun,” Seojun gets out breathlessly, grimacing in pain as he does. 

Minjun laughs hollowly, coming closer still. “I’d love to see Park’s reaction to this, his favourite little pup won’t be crawling back to him tonight.”

Your hand tightens around your pistol but you remain still – even you aren’t stupid enough to think you can shoot this man without receiving multiple bullets in return.

“Just shoot me then,” Seojun mutters, shifting on his feet as he struggles to stay standing.

Minjun scoffs amusedly. “Not just yet. I’ve got questions for you first…” He looks your way and an icy shiver runs down your spine. “Who’s this?”

“I don’t know, this is the first house I found for shelter,” Seojun answers, his voice laced with desperation. “Just take me, she’s innocent.” 

Minjun pauses, his eyes lowering to the gun in your hand. “Innocent?” 

“Yes, she knows nothing.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Minjun says as he walks forward again, closing the distance.

“Minjun,” Seojun says, voice raised. “I’m here, I know everything you want to know, not her–”

As though an invisible fuse has been cut, Minjun loses his temper and throws a heavy punch to Seojun’s jaw, flooring him instantly. 

“Seojun,” you gasp, kneeling beside him as a raspy groan escapes him. Fear travels through your body in waves as you see blood beginning to pool out from beside him.

When you meet his gaze, there’s a distant glassiness to his eyes which stand out against his pale, clammy skin. 

You’ve been in plenty of fist fights before, you’ve been in real danger and have had to fight your way out of it, but this – being someone you care about – this is something entirely new to you and for the first time in a long time, you’re frightened. 

“She knows nothing, hm?” Minjun scoffs. “She clearly knows you.”

Reaching out for Seojun’s hand, you look at the man towering above you, ready to beg. “Please–”

“Y/N!” Siho’s familiar voice fills the air and you freeze.

She appears at the kitchen door, glock raised as she looks around wildly at all the men who are pointing their own right back at her. She clearly wasn’t expecting anything like this and her eyes find you and she looks at you fearfully. “What–”

“Siho, go,” your voice trembles as you call out to her, but it’s too late. Two shots pierce through the air and you watch as your friend drops dead to the floor in front of you. 

A hollowness fills your chest. “No,” you whisper, mindlessly releasing Seojun’s hand to move to her but before you can get anywhere, Minjun is kicking you hard in the chest and you get pushed back to the wall. Only now do you realise how hard you’re breathing, the shaky breaths causing your shoulders to rise as you feel your back sink against the wall. 

“Something you should know,” he says slowly, inspecting the shaft of his gun as he crouches in front of you almost mockingly after he just shot your friend, before he looks right at you. “I don't like being interrupted. Now, tell me who you are, and don’t lie.”

Minjun’s gaze is terrifying and intense; you can’t bring yourself to look at him so you close your eyes and turn your head away from him.

But he doesn’t take well to that so he draws his hand back and it lands on your face with a sharp sting.

Despite being afraid, you manage to turn your head towards him and goosebumps prickle your skin when he stares at you. 

His face is marred with deep lines and red marks, some fresh and some old. Half of one brow looks as though it’s been burnt off and his nose is so deformed it looks as though it has been broken over and over. 

“Answer me,” he growls with a piercing stare.

Before you can even answer, you hear the sound of a gun cocking next to you. Seojun has his gun aimed at Minjun but he’s lost too much blood, his mind disorientated as he tries to press the trigger.

“Ha!” Minjun laughs, effortlessly taking the gun free from his hand. “What an idiot.” He shakes his head, looking down at the gun before shrugging and pulling the trigger. 

“No!” you cry, body jerking backwards as you become paralysed at the sight of Seojun’s body going limp, his eyes becoming lifeless as his head rolls to the side and he moves no more. A choked sob escapes your throat but you don't even have a second to process it.

“Come here, darling.” Minjun places his hand on your shoulder gently. His other hand rests on your face and you shudder when you feel the callused thumb swipe the tears off your cheeks. “Look at me.” He speaks softly but you know better than to fall for that.

His finger hooks under your chin and he lifts your head up to make you look at him. When your eyes meet his, you freeze.

“Just tell me what you know, sweetheart, and we’ll let you go,” he coaxes, nodding his head with a malicious grin on his face. 

“I–I don’t know any-anything. Plea–“

Mjnjun’s fist crashes into your face as your body involuntarily jerks towards the floor. 

Pain sears through you, blinding you and all you can do is gasp from shock, feeling blood trickle down your skin. 

“I told you not to lie,” Minjun growls, dragging you up by your shoulders. You have no strength left to lift yourself or even try to resist, not that you would. 

“Now tell me, what do you know?” 

He shakes you violently as he speaks but you don’t respond, still adjusting to the pain which only worsens as the salty tears silently stream down your face. Now your breaths are uneven and with each draw, you feel more suffocated, unable to even think past the image of Seojun’s lifeless body. 

Your silence serves as an answer for Minjun. He punches you straight in the ribs and watches emotionless as you keel over in pain. A cry escapes you, though you don’t feel it – your mind feels like a completely separate entity from your body. 

So when you hear the sound of feet scuffling and Dani’s voice crying out your name, you can only stay hunched over on the floor.

“Caught her trying to contact someone, boss,” one of the men holding her says gruffly, tossing her phone to Minjun. 

Dani looks across the room, her eyes doubling back to where Siho lies dead in a pool of her own blood. You can see the fear and regret in her eyes as she meets your gaze. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.

You don’t have time to do anything before Minjun gives a curt nod in the direction of the door, and then she’s being dragged away from you by four guards needed to restrain her. Seconds later, a single shot sounds. 

It leaves you feeling numb, unable to do anything as Minjun drags you to your feet by your collar. 

“Two guards and this one…” he kicks Seojun. “You’re clearly someone. What’s your name?” he hisses, his patience clearly having run out long ago – the three dead bodies in your home prove that.

Words don’t leave your mouth and your gaze falls helplessly to Siho’s body. Tears well in your eyes and a harsh sob escapes from your throat.  

“Fucking useless,” Minjun muttters, pushing you against the wall. “Search her,” he commands one of his men beside him.

At this point, you don’t even remember the little device in your pocket. You’re simply numb from everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes and when your eyes land on Seojun’s body and his glassy orbs staring emptily at the floor, you just want to scream.

But you don’t. You physically can’t. 

Hands pat you down, starting along your arms, slipping inside your shirt to feel under your arms, around your back, groping your chest, all around your abdomen, and up and down your legs. You remain entirely helpless as they do so. 

Then they start searching your pockets.

… Your gaze moves to the door, where Dani lies outside.

First your cardigan pockets. Empty.

… Across from you is Siho, the glock she was going to use to save you resting ahead of her.

Then your front jeans pockets. Empty. 

… Your head turns, meeting the vacant gaze of Seojun – you feel your stomach flip and a spark of indignation catches in your throat. Subconsciously, your fists curl.

Then your back jeans pockets. A hand pulls out the small black device and he holds it up in front of him, directly between you and Minjun who raises his brow in mock amusement.

“What a pretty little liar you are?” he snickers, stepping closer to take the flash drive in his hands. 

You don’t respond, but collapse to the floor as the men let go of you. From fear? Exhaustion? Grief? You don’t know. 

Then Minjun comes towards you, pulling a small knife from his back pocket. “You just wasted my time, beautiful…” He grabs you by your throat and pulls you up to your feet. 

The feeling of his strong hand pressing into your larynx returns you to your senses as the real threat of being killed looms over you. 

Minjun trails the sharp edge of the knife along your cheek, down towards your neck. He leans forward and speaks low. “I don‘t take well to that…” The stench of him fills your nostrils, and the knife presses against your skin. One more glance at Seojun, and suddenly, you snap.

Your knee comes up hard and you grab a hold of Minjun’s wrist, yanking it back with all your strength to twist his body in front of you. 

“Sir!” 

The voices of his men shouting drown out his low groans as he now stands, disarmed and held in a tight lock in front of you. You're holding him by his arm twisted backwards around his back and your other hand grabs the gun at his waist, a SIG Sauer pistol – it feels secure in your hand and you press the barrel to Minjun’s head. Adrenaline starts to surge through you as your mind races, completely forgetting about Minjun’s other hand hanging free at his side.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot him,” you warn his men, backing up towards the window.  

Minjun chuckles a low chuckle. “Will you now?”

“Yes,” you answer through gritted teeth, moving back with him towards the back door. 

“Liar.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you hiss, anger swelling in your chest.

Minjun laughs again, coming to a stop despite your grip on him. “You think you’re smart, don’t you? I know you won’t do it.”

“Oh yeah?” Fingers digging tightly into his skin, you drag his head back and shoot him straight in the calf. “You don’t know shit about me.”

Minjun falls to his knees, a string of swear words leaving his mouth and his weight pulls you down with him. “Your first mistake was fucking lying to me,” he heaves, fingers grabbing your jaw tightly. 

A sharp pain shoots down your wrist. You cry out as Minjun’s blade cuts through your skin, the gun almost dropping from your hand as you grab your bleeding wrist.

He tries to retrieve the gun, struggling to get back to his feet but you step back just in time.

“You’re lucky I can’t kill you right here,” Minjun snarls, facing you as he pushes away the guards who try to help him up. “But once Lee is done with you, I swear I’m going to fucki–“

Bang. 

“FUCK!” Minjun staggers, falling backwards with his hand pressed against his shoulder, very close to his chest where blood spreads staining his white shirt crimson. 

Another shot sounds and one of Minjun’s men goes down. Then another, and another. 

“Park,” Minjun growls, pure rage flashing in his eyes. “I’ll fucking kill you!” Despite the two wounds to his shoulder and leg, he gets up and grabs a gun from the closest man. “What the fuck are you waiting for?!” he yells. “Shoot the bastards!”

Within a second, the air is filled with the sounds of shots firing and you drop to the ground, crawling as fast as you can out of the way. Their shots are returned from outside but the majority of your house is surrounded entirely by trees so you can’t see where they’re coming from. 

As you go, you spot the flash drive on the floor and Seojun’s face comes to mind. He died for whatever is on there. Reaching out, you grab the device without a second's hesitation. When you get behind the kitchen island, you quickly stuff the drive in your pocket. Pain still shoots down your arm and there’s blood dripping from you, staining the tiles. When you look up, you realise there’s blood everywhere.

“Show me your fucking face, Park!” Minjun rages, shooting all over the place, but he’s also bleeding heavily now, the front of his shirt rapidly being dyed red. His men are dying all around him as they shoot aimlessly out the window and you snatch a gun from the closest one, looking up just in time to see the last man fall. There’s only you and Minjun left.

He curses as the last man goes down, head whipping towards you. Drawing a pocket knife out from his waist, he lunges towards you but you slide backwards on the floor, aiming the gun at his head.

“Don’t,” you warn breathlessly.

His upper lip curls. “Fucking bitch.” He holds his gun up to you. “You’re useless to me.”

There’s no question that he’s about to shoot and you’re ready to do the same, but before that can happen, three men dressed in all black suits come barging into your kitchen and another two through the window. 

Minjun shouts in frustration, shooting at you which you narrowly avoid by sliding behind the kitchen island. As you go, you see the tallest of the three men disarm Minjun with ease. 

“You’re too late,” Minjun says, voice low as he turns around.

One of them steps forward, a man whose features look incredibly familiar to you. 

He aims his gun straight at Minjun’s head. The look on his face is fierce and his gaze is steady. “Where is he?”

Minjun laughs weakly, the energy slowly draining from his body. 

The man’s jaw tenses and he kicks Minjun's knee out from beneath him. His movements are sharp, agile — it’s clear to you that he’s done this many times before. 

Minjun falls to his knees, his laugh subsiding into a weak raspy breath. He looks up with no fear and no remorse. “I told you, you’re too late.” He looks in the direction of Seojun’s body, and the man’s gaze follows.

His mouth twitches and you can see the grief that fills his face as he stares at the body, but it only takes a few seconds for it to change into unmistakable anger. In a split second, his arm is raised and he shoots Minjun in his thigh.

At first, Minjun cries out, falling to his side as blood pools from him rapidly. Then he laughs remorselessly like a madman. “Which of your boys will be next, Park?”

Familiarity hits you there and then – Park Jimin. As you watch him step towards Minjun, you realise how different this man looks from the young boy you once played tag with in your home.

Jimin doesn’t miss his mark as he throws a hard punch across Minjun’s face, nor does he wait a second before punching him again… and again… and again. Your stomach turns as Minjun still laughs between each throw, almost taunting Jimin to keep going, even when he’s choking on his own blood. 

Gathering a fistful of hair, Jimin pulls Minjun’s head back and pulls out his gun. He holds it to his head.

Minjun coughs, blood spattering Jimin’s crisp white shirt. “Do it,” he rasps. “An eye for an eye, eh, Park?” Minjun chuckles, the sound getting lost as he coughs weakly again. 

Jimin however, goes incredibly still, gaze piercing into Minjun. 

“Your old man knew more than you ever will–” he coughs again, breaths slowing down– “it’s taking you too long to learn, boy. The Lee’s will come for every fucking person you care about, make you watch as they bleed out in front of ya,” he sneers, licking blood off his lips. “Then they’ll kill you like it’s nothing.”

Of the many emotions showing on Jimin’s face, fear isn’t one of them.

Unnervingly calm, Jimin speaks. “I’m not going to kill you.” Tracing the barrel of his gun down Minjun’s cheek, he pushes it under his throat. “No, that would be too easy.” 

Jimin holds out his gun and with immediate understanding, one of his men, with dark curls steps forward and takes the gun and place a small Gerber knife in his hand instead.

Grip tightening on on his hair, Jimin lifts the man and turns his head in the direction of Seojun, ignoring the grunts of pain from him. Looking away from Seojun, Jimin keeps Minjun’s head facing that way as he speaks.  “You don’t deserve an easy way out.” Slowly, he pushes the knife into Minjun’s shoulder and twists.

Minjun tries to keep down the pain but fails to do so, falling to his knees again.

“See?” Jimin looks down, eyes deadly focused on Minjun. “Just like this.” He twists deeper. “I’m going to cut you apart, and then piece you back together. And I’ll do it over and over.”

“Then what?” Minjun rasps.

Jimin pulls the knife out, throwing it to the floor in front of Minjun. Blood splatters on the tiles and Minjun’s head lowers. 

“You’ll see.”

With another wordless gesture, the two tallest men drag Minjun away somewhere and out of sight.

Once they’ve left, the room is silent aside from Jimin’s slow steady breaths. His gaze travels towards where Seojun’s body lies and you watch him carefully as he walks across the room, dropping his gun to the floor to kneel beside Seojun. 

Jimin’s expression softens and he gently takes Seojun’s hand into his own, and just like that, you’re reminded of the boy you once knew. He brings the back of Seojun’s palm to his mouth and he places a kiss on his skin. As he lowers his hand to rest over his chest, his round eyes water, but he blinks once and it’s gone. 

“Jimin.” One of his men, a tall, slender man with chestnut hair, calls his name. When Jimin looks at him, his gaze immediately lands on you.

You instinctively rise at the same time he does, raising the gun you hold in your hand. 

Yes, you knew Jimin once, but many years have passed and you’d be stupid not to be wary.

“Don’t come near me.” You swallow hard, having to press your back against the wall as you feel incredibly weak, but you can’t let this show.

Jimin says nothing as he takes a small step, eyes locking with yours and for a split second you almost lower your gun when you see something familiar in those brown eyes of his. 

Then one of his other men, a well built man with long dark curls held back in a bun, draws your attention. “Miss,” he says politely. “We just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help, just get out of my house.” Your voice tightens as you look at Siho’s body. You force your gaze away.

Jimin takes another step, watching you carefully. “You…” he murmurs, hesitating as a soft frown appears on his face before he shakes his head once. “Why did Seojun come here?” He asks, voice softer than when he spoke with Minjun, but the question is enough to anger you and you stare at him in bewilderment.

Pushing off the wall, you walk towards him and a loud click echoes in the room as you release the safety with your thumb.

In return, three guns are cocked and aimed at you. 

Jimin, however, doesn’t even blink. 

“Put the gun down, miss.” The same man addresses you calmly with his finger hovering over the trigger, glancing between Jimin and you. 

Now it’s you who doesn’t falter. “I don’t know why Seojun came here,” you say calmly, “and I don’t know who those men were. I’ve only ever spoken to him a few times and he never told me anything about himself. I know nothing.”

Admittedly, that’s a lie, but until you have more answers yourself, you’re not saying anything.

Jimin is quiet but his gaze is steady. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t,” you answer quietly. “But it’s my word or nothing.”

A beat of silence passes and it feels like an eternity. Your gun remains aimed at Jimin and his men hold theirs up to you, but you know they won’t shoot – there’s something sure in Jimin’s gaze as you both stand there in the middle of the room staring at each other, something that tells you you’re safe. 

He doesn’t say anything at all as he looks past the barrel of your gun to hold your gaze, and for a moment you wonder if he recognises you just like you’ve recognised him, but it can’t be. 

In the years since your father died, your grandma has done everything to protect you, including changing your surname and moving towns. Jimin, however, had a foot in the limelight for as long as his father was alive which is why you still manage to recognise the grown man before you. 

Just as you begin to feel a wave of weakness pass over you again, Jimin looks at the man closest to him, a broad man with jet black hair. With the smallest shake of his head, his men stand down.

You let out a slow breath, lowering your own gun as Jimin turns back to you. 

He looks down at your wrist and the smallest wrinkle appears between his brow. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine,” you mutter, hand closing over your throbbing wrist. 

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

You almost huff impatiently. “It’s not all mine.”

Jimin pauses to look down at your thigh. “You need someone to look at that–now.”

Confused, your eyes follow and your stomach coils when you see a gash on your thigh, the blood darkening the denim of your jeans. You don’t even know when that happened.

Clenching your fists, you look back up. “I said I'll be fine.”

Contrary to your words, when you turn away a little too quickly, everything blurs and spins. Just as everything starts to go dark, you stumble backwards and Jimin is moving towards you. 

The last thing you feel is warm hands closing around you, lowering you gently to the ground.

note. thank you so much for reading! please share your thoughts with me and if you have any questions ask awayyy! (especially as it only gets more intense :) the action should take a bit of a break though as we’re introduced to and learn more about the characters 😋 (also writing action is hard 😭)

[kingofbodyrolls]

To Catch a Merman (m) | pjm

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

You don’t really enjoy your work on a trawler, but it pays the rent. When you hear some ruckus out of the deck, you go out to investigate, only to be met by an unreal sight: a blonde merman with a sparkly golden tail caught in the net, struggling to get free.

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: strangers to lovers → Genres: fluff / smut / romance / tiny angst → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 17.7k → Warnings (general) + triggers: multiple povs (I tried to keep them apart, but there’s some sections where they mix), a shitty ex (not Jimin or one of the tannies), blackmail (because of said stupid ex), low female rage (it’s very minor, but let me just say that reader can defend herself if need be 🤭). → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (please be safe), multiple orgasms, cockwarming, fingering, oral (male receiving), biting/marking, merfolk intercourse (it’s like a mating dance, lol), dirty talk. → Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note: I’m baaaaack 🥳 I really love how this one turned out and I hope you love it as much as I do! And now there’s only two more mermaid stories left 🥹 This has truly been special, and i’m so glad I stuck with it and didn’t abandon it like I feared at one moment… Anyway, any kind of feedback will be very much appreciated—it fuels my inspiration, you know? Like just one single comment or reblog can make my heart soar, make me smile and feel like ‘yeah, someone on the internet likes my writing and stories as much as I do’ and it truly helps me to keep going, especially at times where I second guess myself (happens rather often I’m afraid). Please let me know okay? And happy reading ✨ 

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

“Don’t you think we’ve gone too far out?” Jungkook’s voice wavers, uncertainty woven into each syllable. His dark eyes dart toward the fading silhouette of home, but Jimin doesn’t pause, doesn’t even glance back. His golden tail gleams like sunlight trapped in the sea, cutting through the azure depths with an effortless sway.

“Nah, don’t be such a guppy!” Jimin laughs, his voice buoyant with adventure, rippling through the water as he propels himself faster. Each stroke carries him farther into the unknown, where the current whispers secrets only the bold dare to uncover.

Jungkook lingers, his chest tight with unease. “I really don’t think this is a good idea,” he calls, the words almost swallowed by the vastness. “We’re so far from home…”

Jimin suddenly halts mid-stroke, his brown eyes narrowing. Above them, a shadow looms, dark and colossal, breaking the soft shimmer of sunlight on the waves. The water feels heavier now, the salty tang sharper. 

“What is it?” Jungkook asks, dread curling in his gut.

“It’s a big boat,” Jimin murmurs, the words bubbling to the surface as if reluctant to leave his lips. His curiosity pulls him forward, closer to the shadow that stretches like a specter above them.

“Yeah, and we should stay away,” Jungkook snaps, his hand darting out to grab Jimin’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.” 

But Jimin shrugs him off, slipping through his grip like quicksilver. His golden tail fans wide, propelling him onward, closer to the unknown.

“Just a little closer!” Jimin calls, his voice light, but his gaze locked on the shadow overhead.

“Jimin!” Jungkook shouts, the name tumbling from his mouth like a plea. He spins in the water, struggling against the tide—and his rising anger. His voice cuts through the deep with raw emotion. “You’re going to get us killed!”

But Jimin only laughs again, a sound like the tinkling of glass against the endless blue, as the shadow above deepens, and the world below seems to hold its breath.

“It’s okay!” Jimin calls, his voice barely rising above the whispering waves. He hovers just beneath the surface, closer to danger than Jungkook would ever allow if he had his way. But Jimin’s curiosity burns brighter than his caution. The lure of the unknown pulls at him like a tide. Slowly, almost reverently, he lifts his head above the water, the ocean’s surface breaking around him in ripples of light.

His breath catches. The boat looms above him—a hulking beast of wood and iron, its hull painted in hues of brown and white, weathered by years of salt and sun. Massive cranes stretch skyward like skeletal arms, and heavy nets drape across its deck, glinting faintly under the midday sun. It is not beautiful, but it is powerful, a thing of human hands and ambition, utterly foreign to the delicate harmony of the sea.

Jungkook materializes silently at Jimin’s side, his presence a sudden ripple in the water that startles the older merman. Jimin glances at him, guilt flickering briefly in his wide eyes before giving way to fascination again. 

“Jimin,” Jungkook hisses, his voice sharp, his gaze sharper still, like an anchor seeking to tether him. “Turn back.”

But Jimin doesn’t move. His voice trembles, not with fear but with awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” His eyes dart to the figures moving along the deck, their shadows shifting like specters against the glare of sunlight. “There are people up there.”

“Hide!” Jungkook snaps, grabbing Jimin’s arm and pulling him sharply downward. The sea envelops them both again, cool and heavy, muffling the world above. “That’s a trawler,” Jungkook says, his voice low and urgent, every word a warning. “They catch fish, Jimin. You shouldn’t go near it.”

Jimin nods absently, his head bobbing like seaweed caught in the current, but his thoughts are far away, drifting beyond Jungkook’s grasp. The boat has hooked his curiosity like a lure, and no amount of scolding can break its hold.

Jungkook sighs, frustration etching lines into his usually calm expression. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, wrapping his arms around Jimin’s tail and tugging him backward with a determined kick of his fins. Jimin lets out a half-hearted protest but doesn’t fight him, his gaze lingering on the shadow of the boat until it fades into the distance.

As they swim back to Naraeum, Jungkook glances over his shoulder, his unease like a weight dragging him down. The ocean feels too still, too silent, as if even it is holding its breath. Beside him, Jimin smiles faintly, his mind adrift in a sea of wonder. 

Days have passed, yet Jimin cannot shake the image of the trawler from his mind. The boat lingers in his thoughts like a siren’s call—an enigma draped in nets and cranes. He remembers the humans, their shadows etched against the light, and wonders what it would feel like to stand among them, to know the world above the waves. His curiosity churns like the tide, restless and unyielding.

Which is why, against better judgment, his whimsical heart leads him back to where he last saw it. Alone, this time. Jungkook’s warnings echo faintly in his memory, but he brushes them aside like grains of sand. Jungkook doesn’t understand—how could he? To Jimin, the pull of discovery is stronger than fear.

The sun is high, its warmth seeping through the water’s surface as he breaks through the shimmering line between ocean and air. The trawler looms in the distance, its silhouette stark against the azure sky. No voices, no footsteps. The deck looks empty, silent. Safe. 

Jimin swims closer, his golden tail cutting through the waves with an eager flick. He dips beneath the surface again, the water cool against his skin as he circles to the far side of the vessel. His heart flutters with anticipation, the world narrowing to this single moment, this single mystery.

But as he moves to rise once more, something catches. A sudden, taut pressure coils around him—a net, rough and unyielding, tangling his tail and pinning his arms to his sides. Panic flares. He thrashes, but the more he struggles, the tighter the net pulls. The world tips and tilts as he’s dragged upward, the ocean slipping away below him, the sun blinding above.

When he finally breaks the surface, it is not in freedom but captivity. He is hoisted into the air, suspended with a writhing chaos of silver-scaled fish. Their bodies slap and squirm against him, cold and frantic. Jimin grunts, his pride stinging almost as much as his skin. Of course, he thinks bitterly. Of course I’d get caught. He’s the kind of merman who can’t even balance on a rock without sliding off. Clumsy to his core. Jungkook had warned him—warned him with exasperation and those sharp, knowing eyes—but he hadn’t listened.

Now, he lies in a heap on the deck, the net a coarse prison pressing against his skin. The trawler’s wood feels foreign beneath him, its surface warm from the sun. For a moment, there is no movement, no sound but the rhythmic creak of the boat and the faint slap of water against its hull.

No humans. Not yet. He exhales shakily, a flicker of relief warming him. Lucky, for now. But luck is fleeting, and the net is unrelenting. He twists and pulls, his tail flicking in frustration, yet the woven threads refuse to yield. 

As he struggles, the vastness of his predicament begins to sink in. The boat, the net, the world of humans looming just beyond the corner of his vision—all of it feels too big, too foreign. Yet, even in the face of danger, a part of him remains defiant, his curiosity undimmed. I’ll get out of this, he thinks. I have to.

But the trawler sways beneath him, a silent giant, and the horizon stretches wide and uncaring. The sun blazes overhead, and the sea he loves feels suddenly, painfully far away.

You hate this job. The endless hours, the stench of fish, the grinding noise of the trawler’s machinery—it all gnaws at your soul. But the money is good, and good money keeps you coming back. Still, as you stretch awake in the middle of the day, the remnants of last night’s shift clinging to you like a haze, you can’t shake the feeling that you’d rather be anywhere else. 

Weird noises from the deck break through your grogginess, jarring and unfamiliar. You yawn, dragging yourself from the cocoon of your cramped bed, the lazy heat of the cabin making every step feel like a chore. Rubbing your eyes, you shuffle to investigate, the bright daylight spilling through the doorway catching you off guard.

The moment you step outside, the world hits you. The sun blazes mercilessly above, its golden rays turning the sea into a blinding mosaic of light. The air hangs heavy, hot and thick, clinging to your skin like a second layer. And then you see him.  

A man—no, an angel—caught in the center of the deck, tangled in the coarse weave of a fishing net. Blonde hair gleams like spun sunlight, cascading over his shoulders. His chest is sculpted, every curve and ridge kissed by the sun, tapering to a tiny waist. Your gaze falters at sturdy thighs, only for your brain to screech to a halt at his dick. Completely naked. Utterly surreal.

His head jerks up, startled brown eyes locking with yours. A loud, high-pitched shriek escapes him, the sound jarring and almost inhuman. He thrashes in the net, his movements frantic as the silver-scaled fish trapped with him flop and slide against his skin. You freeze, your breath caught in your throat, every nerve firing in chaotic confusion.

What the hell is happening? You want to ask something—anything. Maybe ‘do you need help?’ or ‘who are you?’ or even the more pressing ‘how the hell did you get here?’ But your words die on your lips as he suddenly wriggles free of the net. For a moment, he’s all unsteady limbs, rising awkwardly to his feet. Then, like a fleeting mirage, he dashes for the edge of the boat, his movements fluid and oddly graceful despite his wobbling steps.

He pauses just long enough to clap his hands together in a makeshift diving pose. And then he leaps. Quick, but slow enough that you catch a glimpse of a tattoo of moon phases down his spine. 

Time slows as he arcs through the air, a golden blur against the deep blue horizon. The water accepts him in a shimmering burst, and he’s gone. You gape, your voice finally finding freedom in a startled yell. Heart pounding, you rush to the edge of the boat, gripping the sun-warmed railing as you peer over. The ocean is calm, indifferent, save for a few bubbles breaking its surface.  

You scan the water, searching, your eyes desperate to confirm what you just saw—or to convince yourself it was some kind of sun-soaked fever dream. But there’s nothing. The waves ripple serenely, as if mocking your bewilderment. 

No man. No trace. Just the endless expanse of sea, stretching into oblivion.

You stand there, stunned, the net still lying in a crumpled heap behind you, its captured fish glinting in the sunlight. The deck creaks beneath your feet, but the rest of the world seems to hold its breath. Who—or what—was that? And where did he go?  

The sea offers no answers. Only silence.

The whole day, he lingers in your mind like a shadow you can’t shake. The golden-haired man, tangled in the net, his brown eyes wide with fear and confusion. Questions churn in your head, relentless as the tide. Is he okay? Did he make it? Why was he there in the first place? And the one you don’t want to ask but can’t silence—Did he drown after he leapt into the sea?  

He hadn’t said a word, only that strange startled cry when your eyes met. The sound was raw, unguarded, like something wild caught between fight and flight. You replay it over and over, a haunting echo, as you try to piece him together from fragments: golden hair, sun-bronzed skin, a fleeting presence that disappeared as suddenly as it appeared. And those eyes—terrified, searching. You wonder what they saw in you.

A sudden hand at the small of your back drags you out of your thoughts, the warmth unwelcome and invasive. Riley. You shrug him off sharply, your frown a warning, but he doesn’t take the hint.

“What happened out there?” he asks, curiosity lacing his tone. He must have heard the ruckus earlier, but you’re in no mood to indulge him. “Nothing,” you snap, turning away. “And don’t touch me again. Ever.”

His hand retreats, but his presence lingers like a bad smell. Riley—your ex, your mistake. You curse the naïveté that led you to take this job, blind to the fact he’d be working here too. It felt like fate mocking you, trapping you on this swaying tin can with someone you can’t stand. Every day, you question your sanity for staying. But the paycheck binds you like chains, and so you endure.

Riley’s voice follows you, slick with false concern. “I can protect you, if you’re scared.” The words slither through the air, leaving a sickly taste in your mouth. You stiffen, his tone stirring something sharp and defensive in your chest.

You turn, arms crossing tightly over your body, your voice colder than the ocean below. “I don’t need your protection, Riley. I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself.” Each word is clipped, deliberate, your disdain evident.

He smirks, like your anger is a game he enjoys playing. It makes your stomach churn, and you glare at him before storming away, needing space, needing air.  

Your thoughts drift again as you retreat to the edge of the boat, eyes scanning the endless sea. The sunlight dances on the waves, golden and playful, as if mocking your mood. But no matter how far you look, there’s no sign of him—the man who consumed your every thought today. Just water stretching endlessly, as inscrutable as it is vast.

A few days later, the quiet of dawn is shattered by a strange, rhythmic banging that echoes against the hull of the boat. The sound pulls you from sleep like a siren’s call, and before you can think, you’re on your feet, racing out in nothing but your pajamas, the early chill biting at your skin. The sky is a delicate canvas of pale pink and gold, the sea beneath it still dark and restless.  

The deck is empty, the vast stretch of wood as silent as the horizon. But the sound persists—low, insistent, coming from the side of the boat. Heart thudding, you approach the railing, peering over cautiously. 

And there he is.  

Your breath hitches. For a moment, all you can do is stare, your mouth falling open as if to match the endless gape of the sea below. Caught in the coarse weave of the net, a merman thrashes against his bindings. Half of his shimmering tail—gold and flecked with iridescent yellows—remains submerged in the water, while his torso, lean and sunlit, glistens with droplets that catch the dawn light like scattered jewels. His blonde hair, unruly and windblown, clings to his face in wild streaks. 

Familiar blonde hair. A face you’ve seen before.  

He struggles, his movements frantic and uncoordinated, the net tangling tighter with every thrash. “Help!” he cries, his voice raw and desperate, carried over the waves to no one in particular. His gaze hasn’t found you yet, but his fear is palpable, written in every line of his body.  

“I can help you!” you call out, your voice breaking through the morning stillness like a splash of cold water. 

He freezes, flinching at the sound. Slowly, as if time itself has slowed, he turns his head. His eyes meet yours, and in an instant, the fight drains from his limbs. Shock overtakes him, his expression teetering between recognition and disbelief. 

For a long moment, neither of you move. The sea murmurs below, the net creaks with the sway of the boat, and still, his gaze holds yours, weighing something unseen, something fragile. 

“Can you help me out of this net?” he asks at last, his voice low, wary, the tension in his shoulders betraying his uncertainty.

You nod, steadying yourself against the railing. “I can,” you reply, your words measured, reassuring. “But I’ll need to raise you onto the deck first. The net—it’s too heavy to untangle in the water.”

His lips press into a thin line, his reluctance plain, but he nods, a flicker of trust crossing his features. The moment feels precarious, like balancing on the edge of a wave.  

“All right,” he murmurs. “Just... be quick.”

You grip the railing tighter, your heart pounding as you prepare to pull him aboard. The world feels charged, like the air before a storm, and the sea watches silently, its secrets just beneath the surface.

You hear him sigh, a soft, defeated sound that seems to blend with the whisper of the waves against the hull. Slowly, he relents, letting you take control. With a steady pull, you drag him and the heavy net out of the water, your muscles straining as the glistening form of the merman rises onto the deck.  

There he lays, sprawled and still, water pooling beneath him as it drips from his sleek, otherworldly form. You step closer, and for the first time, you truly see him. He isn’t just beautiful—he’s ethereal, like something conjured from the dreams of gods. His face is serene yet haunting, framed by unruly blonde locks that cling to his skin, while his shimmering tail catches the sun, reflecting colors that defy description.  

Your breath hitches. It’s him. The man who has haunted your thoughts for days, the one you feared might have been claimed by the sea. Relief floods through you, mingled with awe. He didn’t drown. He didn’t vanish. He’s here—and he’s a merman.  

Shaking off your daze, you kneel beside him, your hands working to untangle the net from his glistening body. Each movement feels surreal, your fingers sliding over the slick scales as you free him inch by inch. When the last knot falls away, you can’t help but linger, your gaze tracing the curve of his tail. It’s a masterpiece of nature, wet and scaly, each iridescent hue shimmering like molten gold under the light. Without thinking, your hand reaches out, brushing against it.  

The texture is mesmerizing—cool, smooth, and alien. But then, just as you’re about to marvel aloud, a flicker of light catches your eye. Tiny sparkles dart around him, a strange, magical shimmer that dances like fireflies in the dawn. You blink, and suddenly, his tail isn’t there anymore.  

Your heart stops. What you’re touching now isn’t a tail—it’s skin. Wet, firm, human skin. Your hand rests high on his thigh, alarmingly close to…  

You jerk back as though scalded, a startled shriek escaping your lips. Heat rises to your cheeks as your mind spirals, but he doesn’t seem fazed. Instead, he curls into himself, folding his arms and drawing his knees up, his entire form radiating vulnerability. His golden hair falls over his face like a curtain, shielding him from your gaze, as if the transformation has stolen some vital part of him.  

Snapping yourself out of it, you scramble to your feet, casting about for something to cover him. A roll of tarp catches your eye, and you grab it, moving swiftly to drape it over his body. His wide, questioning eyes follow your hurried movements, but before you can say anything, footsteps echo from behind.  

“Hide,” you hiss under your breath, pulling the tarp snugly around him. He doesn’t protest, just shifts deeper into the shadows, his presence shrinking to near invisibility.

Riley strides onto the deck, his boots thudding against the wood with deliberate weight. His face is unreadable, but his gaze sweeps the space like a predator searching for prey. “What’s going on out here?” he asks, his tone sharp and suspicious.

“Nothing,” you blurt, your voice an octave too high. You shift your body subtly, blocking Riley’s view of the tarp-covered figure behind you. The air between you crackles with tension as you force yourself to meet his eyes, willing him to believe your lie.  

“Hmm… okay,” Riley says, lingering just long enough to set your teeth on edge. “I heard you scream, so if you need me, just let me know.” His gaze sweeps the boat once more, like he’s searching for the ghost of your secrets.  

You scowl, crossing your arms as a shield. “Fuck off,” you snap, the words sharp as broken glass.  

Finally, he shrugs and turns, his heavy footsteps receding into the distance. The tension eases its grip on your chest, and you let out a shaky breath, relief rushing in like a tide. Only when he’s gone do you feel like you can truly breathe again.  

Turning back, you kneel by the tarp, fingers trembling slightly as you lift its edge. Beneath it, the man—if you can call him that—sits curled in on himself, his golden hair a wild halo around his wary eyes. Those eyes fix on you, wide and mistrusting, their depths dark as uncharted waters.  

“It’s okay,” you murmur softly, your voice gentle as the breeze over calm seas. “I won’t hurt you.”

“But you’re human,” he replies, his voice low, tinged with fear and something unnameable. He shifts back instinctively, his posture guarded, keeping a cautious distance as if you might sprout claws at any moment.

You hesitate, not wanting to push him further into his shell. “Are you hungry?” you ask instead, steering the conversation into safer waters. You don’t press him; instead, you keep still, aware of the fragile balance between his fear and your curiosity.

His stomach answers for him, the loud, unmistakable growl breaking the tension. A blush colors his cheeks, and to your surprise, he giggles—a light, melodic sound that’s startlingly human.  

“Do you have tang?” he asks, his eyes brightening for the briefest moment, curiosity peeking through his fear.  

Tang. The word catches you off guard, but you quickly realize what he means. A smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah,” you say, nodding. “I think I have some tangy snacks in my room. Hold on.”  

You pause, glancing at his dripping figure, and add, “And I’ll get you some clothes too.”

His gaze softens, just a little, as if he’s starting to believe you might not be a threat after all.  

Rising quickly, you dart into your small cabin, rifling through drawers until you find a bag of snacks that might fit the bill. Then, with a surge of boldness, you sneak into one of your coworker’s rooms. Borrowing—stealing, really—a pair of pants and a shirt, you mutter an apology under your breath. It’ll have to do.  

When you return, he’s still seated where you left him, his form a quiet figure against the chaos of the sea around you. You hand him the clothes, and he takes them with a hesitant nod. Watching him dress is like watching a bird try to walk—awkward, unnatural, his movements jerky and unsure, as though his body resists this strange, human choreography.  

But eventually, the oversized shirt hangs from his shoulders, the borrowed pants bunched awkwardly around his waist. He adjusts the fabric with a distracted frown before shifting his focus to the snacks you’ve brought. The tangy treats vanish quickly, his hands moving with an efficiency born of hunger, though he pauses occasionally to eye the brightly colored packaging like it’s something from another world.  

You hand him a bottle of water, and he gulps it down, his throat working rhythmically, the sound amplified in the stillness between you. Finally, you settle across from him, your knees tucked close as you take him in—not just his appearance, but his presence, the way he seems both fragile and powerful, like something caught between two worlds.  

“What’s your name?” you ask softly, breaking the silence.  

He pauses, lowering the bottle, then meets your gaze. “Jimin,” he says simply, the name rolling off his tongue like a whispered secret.  

You nod, offering him a small, warm smile, hoping it will ease the wariness in his expression. “Hi, Jimin. I’m Y/N.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the ocean filling the space between your words. But curiosity pushes forward, unbidden. “What are you doing here?”  

Jimin chuckles, the sound soft but tinged with frustration as he pops another snack into his mouth. “I just wanted to see the boat again,” he admits, shaking his head. “And I got caught in that stupid net again…” He rolls his eyes, the gesture so human it catches you off guard, deflating with a sigh that seems to sink into the deck beneath him.  

But then his gaze sharpens, flicking around the empty deck as if he senses unseen eyes. “Why are you hushing and hiding me like I’m some sort of secret?” he asks, his voice tinged with curiosity but not without suspicion.  

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “Do you really want my coworkers to find you? To know that you’re a merman?” you counter, your tone cautious but earnest.  

He considers this for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line before he exhales. “I guess not,” he mutters, the words laced with a resigned wisdom. “Humans aren’t trustworthy.” His tone is matter-of-fact, not cruel, but unyielding, as though he’s learned this lesson too many times before.  

You flinch inwardly at the generalization, but you let it pass. “I’m trustworthy,” you say, your smile growing as you try to project a confidence you’re not sure you feel.  

He tilts his head, his sharp eyes searching yours, and it’s clear he isn’t convinced. The wall of mistrust between you is a thick one, forged not in a moment, but over years, perhaps even centuries, of caution bred into his kind.  

But that’s okay, you think. You didn’t expect trust to come easily.  

“I swear, I mean you no harm,” you add, leaning back slightly, your voice quieter now, as though softer words might slip past his defenses.  

Maybe it’s all the fantasy novels you’ve devoured recently, their tales of impossible creatures and fragile bonds, but a strange determination takes root in your chest: you have to protect him. At least from Riley and the rest of your coworkers. You can already picture the chaos that would erupt if they discovered mermaids were more than just stories. The scandal. The cruelty. No—if nothing else, you owe him safe passage back to his home.  

“Have you ever been out of the ocean before? Or… on land?” you ask, your voice soft, as if you’re afraid to disturb the fragile magic of the moment.  

He shakes his head, though his posture eases, his body less coiled now. “I’ve never been to land before,” he says, his voice carrying a wistful undercurrent. “But plenty of my friends have.”  

As he speaks, his gaze drifts far away, as if caught on a tide only he can see. There’s a dreamy quality to his expression, a flicker of longing that glows like sunlight beneath the waves. “I really want to see land,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with wonder. But then it dips, quiet and heavy, as he fidgets with his hands. “But...”  

Before you can think better of it, the words tumble out of your mouth like a pebble skipping across water. “I can show you, if you want to!”  

He blinks, startled, and his head tilts slightly, those deep eyes locking onto yours. “You would?” he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if afraid the offer might vanish if he speaks too loudly.  

“Yeah, sure,” you say with a shrug, trying to sound casual. But your smile is warm, gentle, and you hope it will soothe his lingering doubt. “You seem nice. And curious. I can show you my world.”  

Your heart flutters at the absurdity of it all—you, befriending a merman. A mythical creature. The stuff of bedtime stories and legends. If your coworkers knew, they’d call you crazy. But you’d rather be crazy than let this moment slip through your fingers. Your parents always taught you to be kind, and if kindness means helping a creature from the deep see a dream made real, then so be it.  

His honeyed skin flushes faintly, the blush soft as a sunrise, and he murmurs, “Okay.” But then his smile falters, his hands folding together. “But I have to go back home now. My friends… they’ll worry about me if I’m gone too long.”  

The spell breaks as he rises to his feet, and you follow him to the boat’s edge. The sea stretches below, glittering and endless, waiting to welcome him back.  

He turns to you one last time, his golden hair haloed by the sunlight, and then, without a moment’s hesitation, he dives. The splash sends ripples across the surface, but before you can process his departure, the clothes he was wearing resurface, bobbing lazily in the water.  

A second later, his head pops up, grinning. “Oops,” he says, his voice bright with laughter, and he gathers the floating garments, tossing them up to you with surprising precision.  

He waves, and with a flick of his magnificent tail—shimmering like molten gold in the sunlight—he disappears into the depths. For a moment, you just stand there, staring at the water, the echo of his presence lingering like the last note of a song.  

You sigh, shaking your head. Maybe you have been reading too many fantasy novels. But as you fold his clothes, still damp and salty, you know one thing for sure: you’ll see him again.  

Jimin has never truly met a human before. He’s always kept his distance, heeding the Elders’ grim warnings—dark tales of cruelty and greed. Stories of merfolk snared in nets, dragged from the waves to live as captives behind glass walls, their freedom traded for fleeting human fascination. The thought of such confinement has always chilled him. The ocean, vast and endless, is his sanctuary—a realm where he can stretch his fins and feel the infinite embrace of freedom.  

But then he met you.  

You’re not what he expected, not at all. You’re not cruel or cold, not the predator the stories painted. You’re warm, kind, and impossibly gentle—like a rare current that carries him somewhere new. And though his heart whispers caution, he can’t help but lean closer, drawn to your presence like sunlight breaking through the water’s surface.  

There’s something about you that stirs a curiosity he’s long tried to ignore. He’s always been intrigued by the human world, yes—but not enough to chase it. Not like Jungkook, who used to live on land as a child, or Yoongi, with his endless fascination for women, or Hoseok, with his relentless fascination for breaking rules.  

Jimin has always been curious and daring, but only in measured strokes—never quite brave enough to venture beyond the safety of the waves. Until now.  

Now, he finds himself wondering. About you. About the strange life you lead aboard that towering vessel. Are you like the others, here to strip the sea of its bounty? Or is there something more to your story, something deeper? He wonders what your world is like—on land, where the tides are invisible and the air doesn’t shimmer.  

How different it must be from Naraeum, his underwater home, where coral spires rise like cathedrals and the water sings with life.  

And yet, for all his questions, one thought rises above the rest, startling in its clarity: You don’t seem bad at all.  

In fact, he thinks, you might just be good.  

Jimin knows well—thanks to Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s tales—that fish don’t swim on land, and that humans experience intimacy in ways unlike his kind. It fascinates him, though he would never admit it outright. Not that he’s thinking about you like that. No, it’s just curiosity, an innocent hunger to understand the unknown.  

He’s heard Yoongi’s endless stories of wild escapades on land, tales laced with laughter and mischief. They always stir an uproar—especially from Seokjin, whose words crash like waves against Yoongi’s tide, insisting that not all humans are like the ones his friend indulges in, fleeting and shallow. Jimin has always stayed quiet during those heated debates. He isn’t like Yoongi, reckless and bold, and he isn’t like Seokjin, careful and measured. He’s just… himself.  

Truthfully, Jimin doesn’t know what he wants from life, other than the life he already has. For years, he’s floated along, content to be a merman in the vast embrace of the sea. No mate has caught his eye, no grand ambition has stirred his soul. His parents, thankfully, don’t push—they let him be. But sometimes, late at night, he wonders if that’s enough.  

Lately, his thoughts have been restless, swimming further than his fins ever could. What else is out there? What experiences are waiting to be tasted, untried and undiscovered? Perhaps that’s why he’s drawn to you—not just because you freed him, not just because you’re kind. It’s something deeper, something he can’t quite name.  

And yes, you’re beautiful too. Not in the obvious, dazzling way of a siren’s song, but in a quiet, understated way that feels honest and real. He thinks of your smile, the way it tilted the edges of the moment into something softer, and he wonders if he’ll ever see it again.  

As the sun dips low, sending shards of gold skimming the water’s surface, Jimin darts through the waves, leaving the coral towers of Naraeum behind. The ocean stretches endlessly before him, but his destination is clear—your boat. It’s been days since he last saw you, days since you freed him from the trap of that cursed net.  

And yet, he feels it still—a strange pull in his chest, like a current drawing him toward the unknown. Toward you. He doesn’t know why he feels it, doesn’t know what he’s chasing. He only knows that he wants to see you again, to hear your voice ripple through the air like a melody he’s only just learned to love.  

He lifts his head above the water, careful to keep his distance from the boat, his gaze sweeping its silhouette until it lands on you. You’re leaning over the bow, framed by the soft gold of the setting sun. The light dances on your skin, lending it an ethereal shimmer, as though you belong more to the heavens than the earth. But your face tells another story—it’s etched with sorrow, your gaze heavy as it clings to the horizon.  

Something tugs at Jimin’s heart, an ache he can’t quite place. You don’t look like you belong on this boat, amidst the steel and salt and nets. It doesn’t seem to fit you, this life. He wonders, briefly, if you’re trapped in your own kind of net, caught in something you didn’t choose.  

The sun dips lower, casting a burning amber trail across the water, and you remain there, lost in thought. Unable to bear the weight of your sadness, Jimin swims closer, circling around the front of the boat. He keeps his movements light, the water rippling gently around him as he glides into your view.  

When your eyes finally find him, the change is instant. The sorrow lifts from your face like the breaking of a storm, and the softness of your smile is like the first light of dawn. It stirs something deep within him—a warmth that bubbles to the surface like the sea kissed by sunlight.  

He smiles back, instinctively, his heart fluttering in a way he doesn’t quite understand.  

You make your way to the side of the boat, where the nets hang ominously. He notices and keeps his distance, wary of the tangling web that had once ensnared him.  

“Hi, Jimin,” you call, your voice carrying across the water, warm and soothing like a lullaby. You wave, a gesture so simple yet disarming, your smile soft and genuine.  

“Hi!” he replies, his voice tinged with joy, his hand breaking the surface of the water in a wave. He can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face—it feels so natural now that he knows you mean him no harm.  

“Do you want to come onto land with me tomorrow?” you ask, your voice gentle, yet carrying a spark of excitement. There’s a glimmer in your eyes, a kind of light that makes Jimin’s heart skip in a way that feels both thrilling and terrifying.

He nods shyly, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. “Yeah,” he replies, his voice soft but brimming with eagerness. A giddy kind of warmth rises in his chest, the thrill of the unknown pulling him forward even as fear tugs at his edges. The thought of stepping onto land—foreign and solid and utterly unyielding—is daunting. But he figures, with you by his side, the leap might not feel so far.

“Cool,” you say with a grin that makes him feel a little braver. You glance out toward the endless expanse of ocean, the breeze teasing at your hair. “What have you been up to?” you ask, leaning onto the edge again, mirroring the easy way he found you.

Jimin hesitates for just a moment before diving into his thoughts. “Not much,” he says, though the memories bubble up quickly, bright and alive. “Just hanging out with my friends. Taehyung and I found this lake—it’s tucked away, surrounded by these beautiful willow trees, their branches dipping right into the water. It felt... magical.” He smiles as he speaks, the memory playing vividly in his mind like sunlight glinting through leaves. “And then I went with Namjoon to collect gems. He’s so good at finding the rare ones—ruby reds, deep blues... like pieces of the sky trapped underwater.”

He notices the way your face softens as you listen, the way your focus seems entirely on him, and it fills him with a kind of happiness he didn’t know he was searching for. Maybe, just maybe, you’re as curious about his world as he is about yours.

“That sounds amazing! Maybe you could show me that lake sometime... or even introduce me to your friends?” you ask, your voice carrying a playful lilt, but there’s a softness beneath it—a quiet yearning that Jimin can’t quite place. 

“You want to meet my friends?” he giggles, his laughter as light as the waves that lap against the boat. His tail shimmers beneath the surface, wiggling playfully, sending ripples out into the vast blue.

“Yeah,” you reply, a mock pout gracing your lips, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “If that sort of thing is allowed?” 

The sight of your expression tugs a laugh from him, warm and unguarded. It’s the kind of laugh that bubbles up from the depths of his chest, spilling out like sunlight breaking through water. You’re pouting, and it’s just about the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“Yeah, it’s okay and I’ll ask my friends,” he says, still smiling, though his words carry the weight of quiet rebellion. He doesn’t tell you the whole truth—that the Elders would frown at the idea, their endless warnings about humans ringing in his mind like a distant current. But rules have always felt like suggestions to him and his friends, currents to swim against rather than be swept away by. Besides, you don’t seem like the humans in the stories—how could you be? 

“Thank you,” you say, your smile brightening like the morning sun cresting over the horizon, chasing away shadows. It’s a smile that lingers, and it strikes something in him—a mix of excitement and trepidation, a feeling that maybe showing you his world might not be such a risk after all.

“Do you like working on that boat?” he asks, his voice slipping out before he has a chance to second-guess it. The question has lingered at the back of his mind ever since he first saw you on deck, that distant, wistful look in your eyes that seemed to carry a quiet sadness.

For a moment, your face falters, your gaze slipping away as if the weight of his question pulls something heavy from inside you. A soft sigh escapes your lips, deflated, like the last breath of air from a slowly sinking balloon. “No, not really,” you confess, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He tilts his head, genuinely puzzled, unable to grasp the why. “Then why do it?” he asks, as if the concept of choosing something without passion is entirely foreign to him.

You lower your gaze, shoulders slumping in surrender. A groan slips from your throat, a mixture of frustration and resignation. “I guess I only do it for the money,” you murmur, the words heavy in the quiet space between you. “I know, it sounds super lame... But it pays really well. It pays my rent, keeps me afloat, you know?” You trail off, uncertainty flickering across your features. “I don’t know if you have money and rent down there…”

“We do, so I get it,” he says, his voice soft but steady, an unspoken understanding passing between you. His gaze is warm, like a patch of sunlight breaking through the clouds, reassuring you without judgment. “It still sucks though,” he adds, a quiet sympathy in his tone. “Sounds kinda soulless.”

You let out a long, weary exhale, the weight of the words settling deep inside. “It is,” you agree, the truth hanging in the air like a shadow that refuses to leave.

“I’d love to do something else, but I don’t really know what,” you admit, your voice heavy with frustration. “I’ve always felt a connection to the sea, to everything in it—but catching all these fish, it’s like my soul is slowly being chipped away.” You let out a deep sigh, your eyes distant, haunted by the sight of the ocean’s wounds. “And the plastic... it’s everywhere. It clogs the water, suffocates the life. It’s maddening, you know? People are stupid,” you mutter, the anger in your chest bubbling over.

Jimin’s soft laugh cuts through the tension, and it takes you by surprise. His eyes, full of warmth, reflect the same frustration. “I agree,” he says, voice laced with quiet conviction. “The plastic—it’s everywhere. I’ve had to help so many fish and turtles get out of plastic bottles and containers. It’s heartbreaking.” His lips curl into a gentle scowl. 

Then, a smile breaks across his face, soft but genuine, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “But hey, I can help you brainstorm alternatives to catching fish on that boat,” he offers, the glint of curiosity in his eyes.

You laugh, the tension easing in your chest, your heart fluttering at the simplicity of the moment. “Yeah, we can do that tomorrow. I’d love to hear your ideas,” you say, a sense of ease settling between you. 

Jimin smiles, his heart racing slightly at the thought of tomorrow. As you talk, the conversation flows easily—your questions about his home, Naraeum, the life he leads there. He tells you that there’s no ‘work’ in the way you understand it, that their society values freedom above all else. Merfolk can take on roles if they choose, but many, like him, simply exist, untethered by obligation.

The sun begins to dip, casting its final, golden light over the water. You glance at the sky and realize it’s time to go. “I should head inside to get some dinner,” you say reluctantly, feeling the pull of the boat’s steady rhythm, but also the weight of your own hunger. 

Jimin nods, though a twinge of regret flickers in his eyes. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, his voice soft, filled with something unspoken.

He waves you a quiet goodbye, and with a flick of his tail, he dives into the water, his figure disappearing as he swims toward home—his heart a mix of eager excitement and a flutter of nerves, knowing tomorrow will bring him closer to a world he’s never truly known.  

The next day, Jimin glides through the dawn-touched water, the ocean aglow with soft gold as the rising sun kisses its surface. He reaches your boat just as the world begins to wake, his heart thudding with a mix of trepidation and anticipation. You greet him with a gentle smile, helping him aboard with the net he so despises. It entangles him briefly, like a stubborn remnant of the sea reluctant to let him go, but it’s the easiest way to bring him aboard without a fuss.

“You can hide in my room until we reach shore,” you whisper, your voice low and soothing, like the calm of the ocean before a storm. You hand him clothes—simple, unfamiliar garments—and he places them carefully on the wooden planks. He waits in silence, his shimmering tail already beginning to fade as the magic of transformation takes hold. When his legs return, he moves with an endearing awkwardness, pulling on the human clothes with clumsy hands before following you below deck. 

Your room is small, a haven carved out of the ship’s heart, yet it feels barren, like a place you exist in but do not truly inhabit. The walls are plain wood, the cream linens unremarkable, and the single duffel bag on the floor overflows with your life in disarray. Clothes spill out like secrets, but nothing in the space speaks of who you are. Jimin scans for something personal—a photograph, a trinket, a scrap of you—but finds nothing. It feels like a shell, a husk waiting to be filled, and he wonders if it mirrors how you feel here, adrift and longing.

As he settles into the quiet, he can’t help but wonder about the place you call home. Is it warm, filled with mismatched pieces of you—a kaleidoscope of colors and memories—or is it restrained, earthy and neutral, a sanctuary of simplicity? The thought lingers as he sits alone in your absence, his curiosity pulling him further into your world, one question at a time.

Jimin flinches slightly when you step through the door, the soft creak of the hinges breaking the quiet. You’re holding a plate in your hands, the aroma wafting toward him like a gentle invitation. His wide eyes soften as you pass him the food, and he takes a tentative bite. The flavors bloom on his tongue, unfamiliar yet comforting, like the memory of a warm embrace he didn’t know he’d missed.

“You made this?” he asks, glancing up at you, his eyes bright with curiosity and quiet admiration.

Your cheeks flush, and you glance away, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I did.”

“It’s really good!” he exclaims, his grin unguarded as he dives back into the meal. The crisp, vibrant vegetables catch his attention—they taste fresh and alive, reminding him of the sea’s bounty.

You smile, a mix of relief and pride lighting your expression. “I’m glad you like it. We’re sailing back to land now, but it’ll take a while before we arrive. I need to go prepare for docking. Will you be okay here by yourself?”

He nods, his confidence warm and reassuring. “Oh, I’ll be fine,” he says easily, though his eyes flit around the room, seeking distraction. Then, something catches his attention—a book perched on your nightstand, its pages slightly curled from wear. “Can I read that?” he asks, pointing.

You follow his gaze and nod, a little surprised but pleased. “Sure,” you say, stepping out, leaving him with the quiet hum of the boat and his newfound curiosity.

The book feels delicate in his hands, its cover smooth and inviting. He opens it to find himself drawn into a tale of tangled fates: a woman, lost in the vast embrace of the woods, stumbles upon a brooding stranger whose silence hides his own scars. Jimin reads with rapt attention, imagining the dappled forest light and the quiet intimacy of strangers finding solace in each other. The words seem to pulse with life, vivid as seafoam and just as transient.

He’s just beginning to sense an undercurrent of tension—something deeper stirring between the characters—when the door swings open, and your voice pulls him back to the present. “We’ve docked,” you announce, your excitement barely masked under a layer of calm. 

Jimin sets the book down reluctantly, his mind lingering on the unfinished story. But then he looks at you, and it occurs to him that perhaps he’s stepped into a story of his own.

Jimin closes the book with a quiet snap, trailing after you as you reach for his hand. Your fingers intertwine with his, and he follows you onto the deck, his heart racing—not with fear, but with anticipation. The morning air greets him with familiar scents of salt and brine, mingled with the faintest trace of diesel and earth. Above, seagulls carve arcs against the blue sky, their cries a lilting symphony of the shore. 

The harbor is alive with motion with workers hefting crates, passengers milling about, and the rhythmic creak of moored boats swaying in the gentle tide. Jimin’s wide eyes take it all in as you weave through the crowd, his senses overwhelmed by the vibrant chaos. The sunlight gleams on water-slicked wood, and the reflections from the sea ripple across the hulls of nearby ships—small fishing boats and grand yachts alike. He stumbles once, distracted by the sheer newness of it all, but your hand steadies him, your warmth anchoring him amidst the tide of humanity.

“I want to show you my favorite place,” you muse, your voice lilting with quiet excitement. You glance over your shoulder at him, a teasing glint in your eyes that sparks his curiosity. 

“What’s your favorite place?” he asks, tilting his head to study you. His voice is quiet, though he can’t hide the wonder in it.  

“You’ll see soon,” you reply, your smile playful and soft. The secret wraps itself around the moment, and Jimin can’t help but feel giddy anticipation thrumming in his chest. Your hand fits so naturally in his, and the simple gesture sends a warmth through him, like the sun spilling over the waves.

As the crowd thins, you lead him down a quieter street lined with colorful storefronts and weathered cobblestones. The sounds of the harbor fade into the distance, replaced by the hum of life in this quaint corner of the world. Jimin moves to walk beside you now, his steps falling into rhythm with yours. 

Then, you stop before a tall, gleaming structure—its glass facade catching the morning light and scattering rainbows across the pavement. Above the entrance, bold letters spell out Ocean Wonders. Jimin freezes, a laugh bubbling up from his chest as the irony strikes him.

“This is your favorite place?” he asks, turning to you with amusement glimmering in his eyes.

“It is,” you say, grinning as you squeeze his hand. “You’ll see why.” There’s a spark of pride in your voice, and Jimin doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up as you lead him toward the entrance. The glass doors slide open with a soft whoosh, welcoming you into the heart of your secret place. As you step inside to purchase tickets, Jimin feels the excitement settle in his bones, like the pull of a current. If this place is a reflection of you, he knows it will be something truly extraordinary.

“Don’t you find it ironic, taking a merman to an aquarium?” Jimin chuckles as you hand over the money for your tickets. His tone is light, teasing, but his gaze carries the flicker of genuine amusement. You nudge him with your shoulder, a playful smirk gracing your lips.  

“Maybe, but you’re the best tour guide I could ask for,” you quip, stepping into the cavernous space.  

The air inside feels cool and alive with an undercurrent of the sea’s presence, the walls painted in deep blues and verdant greens. Overhead, glass ceilings allow rays of sunlight to dapple through, casting shifting patterns of light on the floors below. Jimin’s gaze drifts upward to the massive windows that frame the ocean in the distance, the waves visible beyond the aquarium’s curated worlds. 

Your footsteps echo softly as you approach a shallow touch pool filled with flat fish, their mottled skins blending with the sandy bottom. You lean over, rolling up your sleeve as you extend your fingers into the water, but the slippery creatures evade your touch with a practiced finesse. Jimin watches, amusement flickering in his eyes, and when he speaks, it’s not to mock, but to marvel.

“Flatfish have a trick,” he begins, his voice gentle but sure, “when they’re scared, they bury themselves under the sand, leaving only their eyes exposed. But they’re not just hiding; they’re watching, waiting.”  

His words captivate you as much as the fish do, and you glance up at him, intrigued. The informational placard nearby doesn’t say a word about this, but of course, Jimin would know. These creatures are his neighbors, after all. His world brims with secrets science has yet to uncover, and you realize, once again, how little humans know about the depths beneath the waves.

“Keep going,” you urge, your voice laced with wonder. Jimin grins, launching into more facts about the sea life before you, his knowledge as endless as the ocean itself.  

The two of you meander deeper into the exhibit, passing a chilly enclosure where penguins waddle and dive with unbridled joy. The cold air nips at your skin, and you instinctively press closer to Jimin, your arms brushing against his. He stiffens for a moment, surprised, but then relaxes, leaning into your warmth as if drawn by a tide he can’t resist.  

“Warmer now?” he murmurs, a hint of a laugh in his voice.  

“Much,” you reply, tilting your head to smile up at him before continuing toward the heart of the aquarium.  

You find yourselves before the massive central tank—a sprawling, shimmering pool alive with schools of fish, sleek rays, and prowling sharks. From the upper level, you both peer down, watching as a keeper tosses food into the water. The sharks move with a lethargic grace, their power undeniable but softened by the dreamy quality of the water. Jimin stands close, silent, observing not the animals but the awe on your face as you take it all in. 

When you venture below to the tunnel beneath the tank, the world transforms into an underwater cathedral. Light dances through the glass, rippling across your faces as the sharks glide overhead. Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours as you marvel at the creatures, your expression one of pure wonder.  

“It’s funny,” he says softly, his voice breaking the spell of silence. “I see this every day, but through your eyes, it feels…different. More magical.”  

You glance at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. A blush colors your cheeks, but you quickly deflect, pointing toward a particularly vibrant fish darting by.  

Jimin laughs, his chest rumbling lightly as he shares personal anecdotes about the creatures you pass. Stories about turtles he’s untangled from nets, rays he’s raced through coral canyons, and even sharks who’ve stubbornly refused to move from his favorite sunning rock. His tales are sprinkled with humor and affection, each one painting the ocean as not just a habitat, but a home.  

You listen, enraptured, giggling at his antics and marveling at his world. And as you walk together through the aquarium, you realize that this day isn’t just a glimpse into your favorite place—it’s a bridge between your worlds, built with each shared story, each laugh, and each lingering look.  

You guide him to the large pool that stretches before a neat row of seats—a shimmering expanse of water where visitors can slip beneath the surface and swim with the fish. This is your favorite place, a sanctuary of dreams just beyond your reach. “I’ve always wanted to dive with the fish,” you muse softly, your voice carrying a wistful longing as you gesture toward the glass, where iridescent fish dart and glide in hypnotic rhythms.  

Jimin watches you, a gentle smile gracing his face. He doesn’t say anything, but he feels your yearning as if it’s a song only he can hear. Swimming has always been second nature to him, as essential as breathing, and for the first time, he considers what it might mean to long for something so ordinary to him, yet so extraordinary to you.  

As you wander further, voices drift toward you—animated chatter about seals and feeding time. Jimin’s ears perk up, curiosity lighting his features. “I think they’re going to feed the seals,” he says, turning to you with a spark of childlike wonder in his eyes. “Can we go see?”  

“Of course,” you reply, unable to resist his enthusiasm. You take his hand and weave through the crowd, stepping out of the building and into the golden warmth of summer.  

The sun kisses your skin as you approach a stone-encased inlet, a small haven of water bordered by a bridge. Beyond the enclosure, the ocean stretches endlessly, a liquid mirror reflecting the azure sky. On a central platform, three seals lounge in anticipation, their sleek bodies gleaming under the sunlight. Jimin’s eyes widen as employees emerge with buckets of fish, tossing them to the eager creatures.  

The seals move with a playful grace, leaping and spinning for their rewards, drawing delighted gasps and cheers from the gathered crowd. Children press against the rails, their laughter ringing out like wind chimes, while elderly onlookers smile with quiet contentment. Jimin takes it all in—the shared joy, the simplicity of this moment, and the warmth of humanity’s connection to the creatures of his world.  

When the feeding ends, the crowd disperses, leaving only you and him. Hand in hand, you wander to the edge of the bridge, the faint murmur of the sea your only companion. The breeze is soft, carrying the scent of salt and the promise of freedom, and it stirs your hair like a whisper. The horizon glows faintly, the sun beginning its slow descent, painting the world in hues of gold and peach.  

You stand there, side by side, the ocean sprawling endlessly before you. Jimin feels the rhythmic pulse of the waves as if they’re beating in time with his heart. He glances at you, your gaze fixed on the water, your expression peaceful yet contemplative. The salt clings to your skin, the light dances in your eyes, and Jimin thinks there’s something magical about the way you fit into this moment—part of his world, yet entirely your own.  

“I can see why this is your favorite place,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a ripple in the air between you.  

You turn to him, your smile soft, your fingers tightening slightly around his. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”  

Jimin doesn’t reply right away, his thoughts caught between the beauty of the view and the person standing beside him. Finally, he nods, a faint blush warming his cheeks as he looks back to the sea.  

And as the waves lap gently against the stones, and the breeze carries the songs of the ocean to your ears, you stand there together, two worlds colliding in the quiet hush of twilight.

“You know, I’ve always loved the smell of salt in the air. There’s something about it—about the sea—that pulls at me,” you confess softly, your voice carrying a note of wistfulness, as though the waves have always whispered secrets only you can hear.  

Jimin nods, his expression warm with understanding. “I get it,” he replies, his voice as calm as the tide. But before you can say anything more, he begins to shrug off his clothes.  

Your eyes widen in alarm, your voice faltering. “Jimin, what are you doing?”  

He doesn’t answer, only grins mischievously before leaping into the pool with a joyful laugh, his golden tail flashing into existence as he hits the water.  

“Jimin!” you hiss, leaning over the railing, your hands clutching his abandoned clothes. “Someone is going to see you!”  

But Jimin only pops his head above the surface, his wet blonde hair plastered against his forehead, a cheeky glint in his eyes. The seals gather around him, chattering and circling like old friends. They nuzzle him playfully, their sleek bodies weaving through the water as though they’ve found one of their own.  

He laughs—a sound so free and unguarded that it momentarily quiets your worry. He dives beneath the surface, the faint sunlight catching the shimmering scales of his tail as he glides effortlessly from one end of the pool to the other. The seals follow, mirroring his playful energy, leaping, spinning, and splashing around him. It’s as if the world has turned into a living watercolor, the water glittering in shades of gold and sapphire under the afternoon sun.  

You watch, caught between panic and awe. Jimin looks so at home in the water, so alive. The grin on his face is radiant, brighter than you’ve ever seen it, and for a moment, you forget to breathe.  

Finally, when his energy wanes, Jimin pulls himself up onto the platform in the center of the pool. His golden tail glimmers briefly before vanishing, leaving him human again. You rush forward, his clothes clutched tightly in your hands, the edges of your worry returning.  

“Here,” you whisper urgently, holding the bundle out to him. He dresses quickly, the playful grin still lingering on his lips as you hover, scanning the area nervously.  

“Someone could have seen you,” you scold gently, your voice low but firm as you glance around to ensure the coast is clear.  

“But no one did,” he says, his voice brimming with unrepentant glee. “And I’ve never swum with seals before. It was amazing!”  

His smile is infectious—big and bright and full of a joy that feels like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Despite yourself, you let out a breath of laughter, shaking your head.  

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, though the corners of your lips betray you with the faintest hint of a smile.  

Jimin only chuckles, his gaze soft as he looks at you. “You should try it sometime,” he says, his tone playful but sincere. “You’d love it.”  

The seals bob in the water behind him, their curious eyes following his every move, and you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he’s right.  

You huff softly, the sound tinged with reluctant amusement, before grabbing his hand and tugging him back inside. Together, you explore every pool, tank, and glowing monitor, each filled with vibrant tales of the underwater world. Time slips through your fingers like grains of sand as you wander, sharing smiles, laughter, and awe over the secrets of the sea.  

When the day finally gives way to night, the two of you make your way toward the beach, the cool evening air laced with the scent of salt and the soft murmur of waves. The moon, a luminous pearl in the sky, casts its silver light across the water, while the stars sparkle like scattered diamonds above.  

You hold his hand a little tighter, reluctant to let go, your footsteps slow and lingering as you near the shore. The rhythm of the ocean mirrors the quiet thrum of your heart.  

“Today was really fun,” you murmur, your smile soft and genuine, your eyes shimmering under the moonlight.  

Jimin gazes at you, warmth spreading across his chest. “It was. Thank you for sharing it with me,” he replies, his voice gentle, the sincerity in it as deep as the ocean he calls home.  

“And thank you for all the extra details I never would’ve known,” you chuckle, squeezing his hand lightly. “You made it even better.”  

He pauses, hope glimmering in his eyes as he asks, “Can we do it again sometime?” His voice is quiet, like a wish spoken to the wind, but his expression holds the weight of his yearning.  

Your face brightens, a joyful laugh escaping your lips. “Yeah. I’d love that,” you answer, and the simple promise sends a warmth rippling through him.  

For a moment, the world feels infinite—just the two of you beneath the starlit sky, the waves singing softly in the background. Jimin can’t help but think how much lighter he feels in your company, like the pull of the tides no longer weighs him down.  

Boldly, he lifts your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against your skin, his touch reverent, his gaze lingering. You let out a small, melodic giggle, and the sound feels like sunlight breaking through the night.  

With a smile that’s both tender and bittersweet, Jimin takes a step back. “Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice like the whisper of waves upon the shore.  

Then, as if the ocean itself is calling him home, he sheds his clothes and steps into the cool embrace of the water. His golden tail flashes in the moonlight before he dives beneath the surface, becoming one with the deep blue expanse.  

You stand there for a moment longer, the sea breeze tousling your hair, your heart warm despite the night’s chill. Above you, the stars seem to shine a little brighter, as though echoing the promise of another day, another adventure, together.  

“Can I talk to you?” Riley’s voice cuts through the ambient hum of the trawler, low and serious. The weight in his tone drags at your thoughts like an anchor, and a heavy sense of foreboding blooms in your chest. It’s been days since you last had peace, days since the ocean felt like a friend and not a prison.  

“Yeah?” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady, though your stomach twists like a knotted rope.  

“Come to my room in five minutes,” he says curtly, his words sharp and clipped. He turns on his heel before you can respond, leaving you alone with the pounding of your pulse and a growing sense of unease.  

The minutes crawl, each one heavier than the last, and yet curiosity tugs at you as strongly as dread. You follow the path to his room, the confined corridors of the ship feeling tighter with each step. When you enter, you find him waiting—arms crossed, his frame rigid, his expression unreadable but intense.  

“What is this about?” you ask, though your voice wavers, your throat tightening as the walls seem to press closer around you.  

“I saw you,” Riley says, the words sharp and deliberate, laden with something that feels more like a trap than an explanation.  

“Saw me?” you repeat, your confusion laced with a thread of panic.  

“With the merman,” he declares, his lips curling into a wicked smile that makes your blood run cold. The way he says it—like he’s just unearthed treasure or a weapon—sends a shiver down your spine.  

Your breath catches. Ice floods your veins as your eyes go wide. You know, with unshakable certainty, that this is bad—very, very bad.  

“I saw him—your little merman—at the aquarium,” Riley sneers, his voice a venomous whisper that slithers through the room. He pulls out his phone with a flourish, the screen lighting up to show a video. Jimin, bare and vulnerable, diving gracefully into the seal pool, his golden tail shimmering like sunlight dancing on the waves. He’s laughing, carefree, playing with the seals. It’s beautiful—and damning. Your stomach drops like an anchor.  

“I’ve got a neat little video right here,” Riley continues smugly, shoving the screen closer to your face, his words dripping with malice.  

Your heart sinks, the weight of dread pressing down on your chest—until it’s eclipsed by a sudden, white-hot fury.  

“You followed us?” you snap, your voice cutting through the air like a whip. “Are you stalking me?”  

Riley doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t deny it. He just keeps playing the video, his grin as sharp as broken glass. “I’m going to send this to every news outlet,” he says, his tone oozing malice. “Expose your little fish boy for what he is.”  

Rage boils inside you, threatening to erupt. God, you hate him. Hate that you ever let him close enough to your life, close enough to know you. Four years since you’d broken up, and yet he lingers like a storm cloud, his presence heavy, suffocating, and vile.  

Without thinking, your hand darts out, snatching the phone from his grasp. Your fingers move with precision, deleting the video in seconds. You shove the phone back into his chest, glaring daggers.  

“I’ve got backups,” he sneers, his voice sickly sweet, like poison laced with honey.  

Your vision tunnels. Fury burns brighter, hotter, until it takes over, your voice a low, dangerous growl. “If you so much as breathe that video to anyone—hell, even your mother—I swear to God, I’ll cut off your dick with a fishing wire.”  

Your hand clenches into a fist, trembling at your side as you glare at him. His smugness falters for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. You don’t give him a chance to respond.  

You step closer, the gap between you closing in an instant. Your hand drops to his groin, your grip ruthless and unyielding. He yelps, his smirk shattering into something closer to panic. Your voice is a venomous whisper as you lean in, your eyes locked on his.  

“I’m not afraid to use force. And you know I’ll do it.” Your grip tightens, his breath hitches, and you feel your anger seeping into every word. “Stop being a pathetic, jealous little fuck who follows me around like a lovesick puppy. We’re not together, Riley. We never will be. Dating you was the dumbest mistake of my life.”  

You release him with a shove, and he stumbles back, the air between you thick with tension. Every nerve in your body is alight with fury, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of showing any more. Instead, you don’t look back as you storm off, your footsteps heavy against the wooden floorboards, your breath shallow and sharp. The sea air greets you outside, but even its salty balm can’t soothe the fiery knot in your chest. You hate him. You hate the fact that you’re trapped on this godforsaken trawler with him for two more endless days, the horizon a prison of water. The thought of jumping ship flickers through your mind—a tempting escape—but the anchor of practicality holds you steady, bitterly tethered to this floating hell.  

When the morning sun rises, painting the waves in gold, Jimin surfaces beside the boat, his arrival like a breath of fresh air. His golden hair gleams in the light, and when he spots you, his eyes soften with concern. You crouch by the edge, confiding in him the storm Riley brewed the night before. You tell him how you’ve been scouring job boards, eager to chart a new course in life, and how you’ve managed to secure an interview when you return to land.  

Jimin listens intently, his tail glimmering beneath the water as he leans closer, the faint scent of the sea clinging to him. “I’m happy for you,” he says, his voice gentle but resolute. “Not about Riley, but about the job. You deserve to find something better.”  

You smile softly. “I’ll handle Riley. I always do.”  

Two nights later, under a canopy of stars and the watchful gaze of the moon, you meet Jimin by the beach. The waves kiss the shore in gentle whispers as you kick off your shoes and settle into the cool sand, the world feeling softer here, freer. Jimin lingers in the water, his tail flicking languidly beneath the surface, the golden scales catching the moonlight like shards of starlight scattered across the ocean.  

“I’ve got good news,” you say, unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face, warm and radiant.  

“Oh?” His eyes brighten with curiosity, his tail swishing with anticipation.  

“I got a new job,” you announce, pride coloring your voice.  

His grin matches yours, wide and full of delight, as his tail flicks with an excited splash. “That’s amazing! What is it?”  

“At the aquarium!” you beam, your excitement spilling out like the tide.  

“That’s perfect for you,” he says, his delight as luminous as the moonlight on the water. His tail wiggles with unrestrained joy, sending ripples across the ocean’s surface.  

You nod, your heart full. “It really is. No more trawlers, no more Riley.” The mention of his name makes your expression harden for a moment, but it passes quickly. “I reported him to the police and got a restraining order.”  

Jimin’s gaze sharpens briefly, but he nods in approval, his protective instincts tempered by the knowledge that you can handle yourself.  

“And now,” you add, your smile returning, “you can come visit me there. We can hang out at the aquarium—or here at the beach. Wherever you like.”  

He chuckles softly, the sound rich and warm like waves lapping against the shore. “I think I’d like that,” he says, his eyes reflecting the stars as he looks at you.  

For a moment, the world feels perfect, the night serene and endless. The future, once shrouded in uncertainty, glimmers with possibilities as vast as the ocean itself.  

The past two months with Jimin have felt like a dream spun from sea foam and starlight. Every date has been a treasure, each moment with him brimming with charm and sweetness that leaves you glowing for hours afterward. He took you to meet his friends, and you remember that day because it was filled with so much laughter your stomach hurt. Or that time he took you snorkeling still lingers vividly in your mind—the feel of his hand warm in yours as you glided through the cool water, the sunlight rippling across the ocean floor, revealing patches of vibrant plants and curious little fish. His laughter, soft and soothing, danced through the water, carrying with it a joy you’ve never known before.

Tonight is another of those magical nights. Jimin insisted on coming to your place alone this time, so you’ve been pacing slightly, anticipation coiling in your chest like the rising tide. When a knock finally echoes through your apartment, your heart leaps.

Opening the door, you’re greeted by the sight of Jimin in a simple gray t-shirt and black sweatpants—nothing flashy, yet somehow, he looks devastatingly perfect. His soft smile lights up the hallway, and your knees weaken beneath its warmth. He’s holding something in his hands, and as he steps forward, he reveals it—a beautiful seashell, its surface polished smooth by the tides and dappled with shades of ivory and blush.

“This is for you,” he says, his voice soft yet earnest, his cheeks dusted with a bashful pink as he extends the shell toward you.

“For me?” you ask, cradling it gently in your palms as though it were the most delicate treasure. You run your fingers over its grooves, marveling at its beauty.

“I found it when I was with my friend Taehyung on one of his treasure hunts,” Jimin explains, glancing down shyly. “It reminded me of you.”

Your heart swells, full to bursting with affection. Without a second thought, you step forward, wrapping your arms around him. His scent—clean, with a faint trace of salt and something uniquely Jimin—wraps around you as you press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you so much, Jimin,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I love it.” You guide him inside, carefully placing the seashell in a special spot on your display cabinet. The cabinet gleams under the soft light, filled with your collection of oceanic treasures, and now this—this piece that feels more precious than all the others combined.

“Come in, sit down,” you say, turning back to him with a bright smile. “I’ve made dinner.”

You gesture toward the sofa, where the table is already set, the aroma of the food filling the room with warmth and comfort. Jimin follows your lead, his eyes softening as he watches you, and you can’t help but think that tonight is just another reminder that sometimes, life’s greatest treasures aren’t found in the depths of the ocean—but in the small, quiet moments shared with someone you love.

He settles onto the sofa, and the two of you begin to eat, the soft glow of the television bathing the room in flickering hues. A documentary on the ocean plays, its serene narration filling the air. But it’s Jimin’s quiet interjections that captivate you most—he leans closer, offering rich, vivid details about the creatures on screen, things the narrator doesn’t know, weaving a story of his own. His voice is soft yet full of life, making you smile between bites.

When the documentary ends, you find yourselves drawing closer, as if by an invisible thread pulling you together. His warmth envelops you, steady and calming, and the rhythmic beat of his heart becomes a lullaby against your senses.

His gaze meets yours, deep and earnest, the kind that seems to hold unspoken worlds within. “I’m really grateful to have met you, you know?” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere, carrying the weight of emotion unhidden.

You hum in response, your fingers brushing over his hand, a small but comforting gesture.

“I used to think humans were… bad,” he admits, his words tinged with vulnerability. “But you’ve only shown me kindness. You’re so nice, so sweet, and I…” His other hand reaches up, tenderly combing through your hair, his fingers a soothing presence.

You’re sitting in his lap now, his arms wrapping around you in a cocoon of comfort. His frame surrounds you, a perfect shield against the world. “All this time we’ve spent together,” he continues, his voice softening like the tide pulling back, “it’s only made me realize how much I like you.”

You feel the curve of his smile against your temple, a quiet and unspoken joy radiating from him.

“Well, I like you too, Jimin,” you say, your voice a gentle melody as you nuzzle deeper into his embrace. His hold on you tightens, protective yet tender, and he leans down to press a delicate kiss to your temple.

“I want to do something for you,” he murmurs, his voice brushing against your skin like a warm breeze. “Repay the favor, or… something.”

You shake your head softly, a smile spreading across your lips. “You’ve done plenty, Jimin. You don’t have to do anything more than simply be here.” Your words are quiet but firm, carrying the truth of how much his presence alone means to you.

He hums in thought, the sound resonant and deep, as though he’s weighing something in his mind. “Can I…” he starts, but hesitates, biting his bottom lip as uncertainty flickers in his expression.

Your gaze tilts up to meet his. “What is it?” you ask, chuckling lightly, your voice teasing and warm. “What’s on your mind?”

His eyes drop for a moment before returning to yours, nervous yet earnest. “I was wondering if I could touch you?” His voice is almost a whisper, laced with vulnerability, his cheeks faintly tinged with pink.

“You are touching me,” you reply, playful but soft, a knowing smile curving your lips. Still, there’s a glimmer in your eyes, a gentle understanding of the deeper meaning behind his words.

“That’s not what I mean,” he murmurs, his voice low and slightly strained, as if he’s holding something back. He exhales, a hint of frustration slipping through as his lips hover near your ear. “I want to have… you,” he finally admits, his tone steady, yet laced with yearning.

You can’t help but chuckle, the sound soft and inviting, as your body instinctively shifts against him. His hardening cock behind you responds immediately, pressing into your back. Turning your head slightly, you meet his gaze with a mischievous smile. “I want you too, Jimin,” you whisper, your voice dripping with warmth. “You can touch me.”

Your words barely leave your lips before you press them to his, drawing him into a kiss that’s tender yet electric. His lips part, and the moment deepens—a dance of warmth and hunger. Your moans, soft and unrestrained, spill into his mouth, and he swallows each sound as if it were a secret meant only for him.

His hand trails downward, slow and deliberate, the pads of his fingers grazing your bare thigh before finding the waistband of your shorts. With a deft motion, his hand slips beneath the fabric, venturing under the delicate lace of your panties. His touch sends a shiver cascading through you, and you exhale sharply, arching your back into him as anticipation coils tight in your belly.

When his fingers find the sensitive bud of your clit, already slick with arousal, your breath hitches. He moves carefully at first, testing, his touch featherlight. His lips graze your cheek as he whispers into your ear, “Like this?” His voice is low, smoky, and devastatingly intimate.

“Yes—” The word escapes you on a shaky breath, your hips shifting to meet his hand as his fingers begin their deliberate, intoxicating rhythm. He circles your clit with just the right pressure, each motion igniting sparks of pleasure that radiate through you.

His lips find your ear, teasing it with gentle nibbles, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. “You’re amazing,” he murmurs, his voice dipping into a groan as he feels you respond to his touch, your body soft and pliant against his.

As his other hand joins in the exploration, it trails lower, fingers slipping between your folds. You’re soaked now, your arousal coating his fingers as they explore your entrance. One finger slides in, slow and deliberate, sending a gasp tumbling from your lips.

“Ahh—” Your breath catches, and your words come out in a broken plea. “You can add another finger.”

He obliges, his movements careful, his second finger pressing in to join the first. He curls them inside you with precision, brushing against that soft, perfect spot that has your back arching and your voice spilling over in desperate cries of his name.

The heat between you intensifies as you grind back into him, feeling the hard length of him against you, evidence of his own growing need. He moans your name into your ear, his voice a heady mix of reverence and desire, the sound sending a rush of heat through your veins.

“You feel so good,” he breathes, his voice shaky, his control slipping as his fingers continue their exquisite work, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Your body trembles as the crest of your climax surges through you, a tidal wave of euphoria unleashed by his touch. When his fingers pinch your clit, it’s the final spark that ignites you, and your voice breaks in a desperate cry of his name. “Ah, Jimin!” you groan, your body thrashing in his arms as pleasure consumes you. Your walls pulse around his fingers, and he doesn’t stop, coaxing you through the high with ease, his voice a soothing hum of reassurance.

When the aftershocks make you hypersensitive, you shift off his lap, your chest heaving as you fight for air. The room feels electric, charged with the heat of your shared intimacy. Your hands tremble slightly as you strip away your shorts and panties, baring yourself fully to him. “I need you,” you murmur, voice breathless but determined. “I want to feel you inside me.”

Jimin’s eyes widen, his pupils blown with lust, dark as the midnight sea. His arousal is evident, straining against the fabric of his black sweatpants. When you tug them down, revealing his dick—he’s bare beneath them, as always—you bite your lip at the sight. It’s a fact that never fails to make your pulse race.

“You’re never wearing underwear,” you whisper, your voice tinged with amusement and heat.

His cheeks flush, but he doesn’t get a chance to respond before your fingers wrap around him. He hisses through his teeth, his hips twitching forward as if drawn to your touch by magnetic force. “Your dick is so pretty,” you murmur, stroking him slowly, savoring the feel of him in your hand.

“T-thanks,” he chokes out, his voice a strained mix of pleasure and restraint. You smile softly, leaning forward to press your lips to his flushed tip, tasting the salt of him. His groan is low and guttural, a sound that vibrates through your core as you take him into your mouth.

You tease him with languid, deliberate movements, your lips sliding over his cock while your tongue flicks against the sensitive underside. His hands tangle in the fabric of the couch, his breath coming in sharp gasps as you explore him. But just as he begins to unravel, you pull away with a soft, wet pop, leaving him trembling beneath you.

“Maybe I’ll give you a proper taste another time,” you tease, your voice thick with desire. “Right now, I need you to fuck me.”

Jimin’s head falls back, and he releases a shaky laugh, his hands flexing at his sides as though grounding himself. “Yeah, sounds good,” he stammers, his voice hoarse with want.

You climb onto his lap, your knees pressing into the soft cushion on either side of his powerful thighs. Your hand wraps around his dick, guiding him to your entrance, and you sink down slowly, inch by inch. The stretch is delicious, a sensation that has you throwing your head back with a moan. “God, Jimin,” you breathe, your fingers clutching his shoulders as you take him fully inside you.

He groans, deep and guttural, his head tipping forward to rest against your collarbone. “So tight,” he pants, his grip firm on your hips, as though anchoring himself in the moment.

You chuckle softly, rolling your hips experimentally, savoring the way he fills you. “It’s good, isn’t it?” you murmur, brushing a hand through his hair.

“Better than good,” he grunts, his voice rough as the sea during a storm. His hands guide you, encouraging your movements as you begin to ride him, your bodies moving together in a rhythm as old as the tides.

A playful smile curls your lips as you lean closer, your voice light with mischief. “Better than merfolk sex?”

His laughter is strained but genuine, a sound that melts into a groan as your pace quickens. “It’s… different,” he manages, his words punctuated by the hitch in his breath.

You lean forward, brushing your lips against his as your movements slow, rolling your hips languidly to draw out every sensation. “Good different?” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the sound of your ragged breathing.

His hands slide up your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. “Perfect,” he murmurs against your lips, and in that moment, you know he means it. It sends shivers down your spine as you pick up the pace. You ride him with a ferocity that leaves no room for restraint, your body taking what it craves as his dick fills you perfectly, over and over again.

Jimin’s head falls back, his golden hair cascading around his face like a halo, shimmering even in the dim light. His beauty is almost otherworldly, but it’s the raw humanity of his reactions—his moans, his gasps, the way his lips part in ecstasy—that makes your heart race even faster.

Your hands grip his shoulders for support, and you lean in to kiss him, pouring every ounce of your desire into the connection. Your lips crash together, tongues tangling, and the sound of your shared groans fills the air like a symphony. When his hips begin to rise and meet yours, thrusting into you with a powerful rhythm, you cry out.

“There!” you scream, your voice trembling with bliss as he strikes that perfect spot deep inside you, sending your mind spiraling into chaos.

He laughs breathlessly against your lips, his tone tinged with mischief and triumph. His fingers grip your hips firmly, his touch possessive as though anchoring you to him. He kisses you again, slower this time, his lips devouring yours with unspoken promises.

“I want to have merfolk sex with you too,” you pant, the words spilling from you unbidden as your eyes lock onto his, searching for… something. Something intangible, something only he can give you.

Jimin’s breath hitches, his smile faint but wicked. “Later,” he murmurs, his voice strained yet teasing. “Right now, I just want to feel this.”

You groan, your chest pressing against his as his hips surge upward, faster and harder, the rhythm pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck,” you gasp, feeling the heat coil tight and hot in your core. “I’m going to come again soon.”

His response is a low, broken moan, his lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?”

Instead of answering, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, your lips finding the tender skin there. You kiss him softly, your teeth grazing just enough to make him gasp, and when he mirrors your actions, nibbling at your neck, goosebumps ripple across your skin.

Your breath catches, your body shuddering as his thrusts grow rougher, deeper, each one stoking the fire inside you until it finally erupts. “Jimin…,” you cry out, his name a prayer on your lips as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. You collapse against him, your head resting on his shoulder as you tremble through the aftershocks, your walls squeezing him tight.

“Shit,” he rasps, his voice cracking as he feels the way you pulse around him. “I didn’t think it could get tighter. Fuck.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound breathy and light, which only makes him groan louder, his hips faltering. His need is palpable, every thrust a desperate chase toward his own release.

“God, it feels so good,” he pants, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

“It does,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his neck. Your fingers thread through his hair as you murmur in his ear, “Now come inside me. Fill me up.”

Your hips move together in a rhythm that feels almost sacred, each motion drawing you closer, tethering you in a shared moment of bliss. Jimin throws his head back, his golden hair glistening with a faint sheen of sweat as he gasps your name, the sound reverberating like music in your ears. His body shudders beneath yours, his release spilling into you as his breaths come in ragged pants.

“Holy—,” he starts, his voice cracking with the remnants of his climax, but you smile, running your fingers through his tousled locks, grounding him.

“It was amazing,” you finish softly, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss is languid, unhurried, your lips brushing his with the tenderness of someone who knows this moment will linger in your memory forever.

You remain still, savoring the aftershocks coursing through both your bodies, the quiet intimacy of him still buried within you. His cock twitches faintly, and you giggle as you feel the first trickles of his release slipping out of you, warm and unhurried, down to his thighs.

“Maybe we should clean up,” you say, a playful lilt in your voice.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, his laughter soft and warm, “it’s definitely sticky.”

“Come take a bath with me,” you suggest, sliding off him with care, your fingers intertwining with his as you pull him to his feet. Together, you make your way to the bathroom, your giggles echoing in the quiet space as you both use tissues to clean up.

The bathwater fills the tub in a cascade of steam and heat, and when it’s ready, you shed the last remnants of your clothing, stepping in with Jimin close behind. The water embraces you like a warm cocoon, and as you settle down, Jimin takes his place behind you, his sturdy thighs cradling you as they had on the couch. His hands move to your hair, working in gentle strokes as he massages your scalp, letting the warm water cascade over your skin.

“This is nice,” you murmur, your head tilting back to rest against his chest.

“It is,” he agrees, though there’s a soft chuckle in his voice. “But I’ll probably shift into my merman form soon.”

You smile, turning your head just enough to press a kiss to his bicep. “I love when you’re a merman.”

He beams at your words, and with a shimmer of light, golden sparkles dance around him like fireflies, transforming his legs into a resplendent golden tail. The fins spill over the edge of the tub, their iridescent sheen catching the bathroom light, making the moment feel dreamlike.

You shift slightly, giving him more space as the water ripples around his transformation. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close again, his tail flexing gently beneath the surface.

“Do you… maybe,” he begins, his voice tentative, but there’s an almost boyish eagerness in his tone that makes you smile.

“Just say it, Jimin,” you tease softly, leaning further into his embrace.

He laughs, his breath warm against your temple as he gathers his courage to speak.

“Do you want to date me? Become my mate?” Jimin’s voice carries a quiet hope, his brown caramel eyes searching yours as if the entire ocean hinges on your answer.

“Like a girlfriend? Like a relationship?” you ask, tilting your head, your gaze diving into the endless warmth of his eyes.

He bites his lip, hesitating for a moment before his words tumble out. “Yeah. It’s a relationship, but being mates is more than that. It’s a promise—a bond for life. At least, that’s what it means for merfolk.” He pauses, his voice softening. “But we can take it slow if you want to.”

A chuckle escapes your lips as you nuzzle your head into his chest, the steady thrum of his heart grounding you. “I want to be your mate,” you whisper, the truth of it blooming in your chest like a sunrise over the waves.

Relief floods his face as he kisses your forehead, his golden tail flicking above the water with a ripple that catches the light. It’s such a simple motion, yet it sends your heart fluttering like the wings of a butterfly.

You sit there for a while, submerged in the warmth of the water and the closeness of him. His lips find yours, soft and sweet, and your hands wander—tracing the smooth scales of his tail and the hard planes of his chest. Time seems to dissolve, lost in the salty scent of him, the ocean a mere echo in the distance.

Then, like a sudden wave crashing on the shore, a thought surfaces in your mind. “Do you maybe want to help me with a work thing?” you ask, your voice tinged with a hopeful excitement.

He chuckles, his lips quirking in that way that makes your stomach flip. “What is it?”

“Well…” you begin, unable to keep the grin off your face. “I’m hosting this merfolk event at the aquarium for kids. I’ve got this mermaid costume and everything, but I thought… maybe you could show up as a merman in the big pool? We could dive and swim together—give the kids a show they’ll never forget. Obviously, I’ll tell them you’re wearing a costume too,” you add quickly, your cheeks warming at the thought of how much you want this—not just for the kids, but for yourself.

Jimin blinks at you for a moment before his face lights up with a smile as dazzling as the sunlight on the waves. “Sure,” he says, his voice warm. “I’d love to.”

He leans in, capturing your lips in another kiss, deeper this time, and it’s then that you realize you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him. Not his salty scent, not his plush, addictive lips, and certainly not the way he makes your heart feel like it’s swimming in its own current of joy.

The day of the merfolk event has finally arrived, and the aquarium is alive with an energy you’ve never felt before. Laughter and whispers of anticipation fill the air as kids clutch their parents’ hands, eyes wide with wonder. The normally tranquil space is transformed into a shimmering underwater dreamscape. Seashells and trailing strands of faux kelp adorn every corner, while cardboard cutouts of merfolk in a spectrum of skin tones stand as guardians of the magic. Soft, ethereal music hums overhead, making the air feel thicker, as if you’ve already slipped beneath the waves.

Backstage, near the pool you adore, you wrestle with the fabric tail of your mermaid costume, trying to coax it into place. It’s always been your favorite spot in the aquarium—the big pool where the water gleams like liquid sapphire, reflecting the ceiling’s soft lights.

You’re muttering to yourself when Jimin appears, his presence as effortless as a tide rolling in. His golden hair is swept back, and his smile—wide and warm—makes your heart skip.

“Oh, hi, babe,” you say, flashing him a quick grin as you tug futilely at the tail.

“Hi, babe,” he mimics with a laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he takes in your predicament.

“You don’t have to put that on,” he says, stepping closer with a glint of mischief. “I have something better for you.”

From behind his back, he reveals a bundle of something strange yet mesmerizing—a ribbon of kelp, but unlike any you’ve seen. Its tendrils shimmer with an otherworldly glow, the orange hue reminiscent of a sunset bleeding into the horizon.

“What is it?” you ask, reaching out to touch it.

“This,” he says, his fingers brushing yours as he places it in your hands, “is Merwhisper Kelp. It lets humans become merfolk for one hour.” His voice is soft, filled with excitement and affection. “I thought you might like to swim with me today as a real mermaid. Make it… special.”

The idea leaves you breathless, your thoughts spinning as you meet his gaze. “Special how?” you tease, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

A slow grin spreads across his face. “We could show them a merfolk mating ritual.”

Your cheeks flush crimson as your jaw drops. “Like… having sex in front of the kids?!”

He bursts out laughing, the sound rich and musical, shaking his head. “No, no, no. It’s not like human sex, I promise,” he explains, his voice steady despite his amusement. “There’s nothing explicit about it—it’s more like a dance. A connection. Trust me, it’ll be beautiful.”

The sincerity in his eyes melts away your embarrassment, replacing it with intrigue. “You’ll guide me?” you ask softly, your fingers tightening around the kelp.

“Always,” he says, his smile gentle as the tide.

Your heart stirs, and with a nod, you release the fabric tail you’d been fighting with. “Okay. That sounds… amazing.”

He leans in then, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that feels like a promise, warm and lingering.

“I’ll head out first and start the show,” you say, your voice lighter now, a mix of nerves and excitement. Grabbing a robe to cover yourself, you glance back at him, your smile mirrored in his golden gaze. “Wait for me, yeah?”

“Always,” he says again, his voice steady and sure, as you step out toward the glowing auditorium.

You stand before the vast, crystalline pool, its surface shimmering under the soft glow of the aquarium lights, and the crowd of children before you vibrates with barely-contained energy. Their laughter bubbles up like champagne, effervescent and infectious, as their wide eyes focus on you with wonder.

“Hi, everyone!” you begin, your voice bright and warm, your hands clasped over your heart. “Are you excited to be here today?”

A chorus of giggles and shouts fills the room, their enthusiasm washing over you like a wave.

“That’s wonderful! Today, I have something very special to share with you,” you continue, leaning in as if confiding a grand secret. “Today, I’m asking you to believe in magic and fantasy—to let your imaginations take you somewhere extraordinary.” Your eyes sparkle as you gesture toward the pool.

“My boyfriend and I are going to show you how merfolk swim and dance underwater,” you announce with a grin, watching their faces light up in awe. “We’re going to wear costumes, of course,” you add with a playful wink, “but I want you to imagine it’s all real. Because, really, anything is possible if you can dream it. Right?”

The children nod eagerly, their cheers like tiny waves crashing onshore.

“Oh, and let me introduce someone special,” you say, gesturing toward your coworker. “This is Simon, and he’s going to narrate everything while I’m underwater!” Simon gives a mock bow, earning a ripple of applause and laughter.

With a final smile and wave, you step backstage, your heart racing, where you find Jimin waiting for you. His soft smile is a beacon of reassurance, grounding you as excitement tingles through your veins.

“You’re really about to make my dreams come true, you know that, right?” you say, your words spilling out in a giddy laugh as you reach for the Merwhisper Kelp in his hands.

“That was the whole point,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a mischievous smile as he leans in to kiss you, soft and lingering.

As the kelp touches your tongue, an electric sensation ripples through your body. Your legs feel strange—like they’re dissolving and reforming all at once. Sparkles erupt in a dazzling cascade around you, and a gasp escapes your lips as you collapse gently to the ground.

You gape in amazement at the transformation. A shimmering silver tail, adorned with translucent scales that catch the light like diamonds, extends where your legs used to be. Your torso is now clad in a delicate seashell bra that feels as though it was crafted from the ocean itself.

“Wow,” you whisper, your voice filled with wonder as you trail your fingers over the scales. The tail feels strange yet beautiful—foreign and familiar all at once.

Jimin kneels beside you, his golden eyes alight with admiration. “You look stunning as a mermaid too,” he says softly, his hand brushing over yours. “Now, go on. Jump into the water—I’ll be right behind you.”

You nod, still breathless with awe, and begin sliding toward the edge of the pool. The smooth tiles give way to the cool embrace of the water as your tail dips in, sending a shiver of delight up your spine. Tentatively, you let yourself slide further, the pool enveloping you.

The moment your body is fully immersed, it’s as if the world has shifted. You float effortlessly, your tail moving with a fluid grace you never imagined. Tiny bubbles rise to the surface, carrying your laughter with them. The water cradles you, weightless and serene, and you can’t help but giggle at the pure magic of it all.

Words fail you—this feeling is beyond description, an ethereal blend of joy and wonder. You glance up, and through the rippling surface, Jimin smiles down at you. In this moment, the world feels limitless, and magic is not just something you believe in—it’s something you live.

You feel the warmth of a hand at the small of your back, where the delicate curve of your skin meets the smoothness of your shimmering scales. Jimin glides up beside you, his smile a radiant beacon in the water. Without hesitation, you swim into him, pressing your lips to his in a quick, electrifying kiss before gliding forward, emerging into view for the children to see.

Your heart swells—so full of love, it almost feels as though it could burst from your chest. You reach for his hand, and the connection between you is a thread of pure joy, binding your hearts together with unspoken promises. Together, you swim effortlessly beside the swaying kelp, darting through rocky formations, surrounded by the shimmering world of the deep, until you come to the massive glass wall that separates you from the fascinated eyes of the children.

As you break through the surface, the children’s gasps of awe and delight fill the air, their faces alight with wonder. You wave, your heart fluttering as Simon spins tales of merfolk—stories gifted to him by Jimin himself.

Turning toward Jimin, your gaze finds him, and the world around you seems to melt away. His eyes, soft and deep, hold your universe within them, a world built on love and unspoken understanding. He reaches for both your hands, lifting them in front of your faces as he gently presses his body against yours. His chest against yours feels like coming home.

With a slow, tender movement, he begins to spin you in the water, guiding you in a dance as old as time. You laugh, the sound bubbling through the water, as your tails entwine in fluid harmony. His kiss comes then—deep, slow, full of longing—as if he’s been waiting for this moment all his life. In the embrace of his lips, you feel like everything has led to this. Like you were born to dance like this, to love like this. It’s as if two worlds—yours and his—are colliding, fusing together in one seamless, breathtaking whole.

This is what merfolk love must be—this swirling connection, this surrender to the current of passion and tenderness. The kiss deepens, the world slipping away into a blissful haze, and for a moment, you can’t hear the laughter of the children. All that matters is this—a love so pure, so magical, it transcends everything. The only thing that exists in this moment is Jimin, the love you share, and the extraordinary gift he’s given you.

The world is perfect here, in the waters where love flows as effortlessly as the ocean itself. And you are exactly where you belong, with him.

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex @rapmonjoon94 @parkitrighthere

→ Series taglist: @allie-in-the-moon @bangtannie7 @suker4angst @women-kisseer @13-manggaetteok

→ Author’s endnote: waaaah 🤧 Personally, I think this one turned out so much better than Tae’s (not that I don’t think that was good!) but I guess it’s just a lot easier for me to write Jimin? Anyway. What do you guys think of this one? Are you still excited for the last two? ✨💜

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[darkelixirr]

You're Mine. - Park Jimin

Just a little jealousy...

♡pairing: jealousy!jimin x fem!reader ♡rating: explicit!mature 18+ ♡genre: SMUT ♡wc: 1.3k

You and Jimin out with friends. Spending time with each other, laughing and enjoying the many conversations. He can't seem to keep his hands to himself. Always groping at your thighs, his hands going to where you need them the most.

"Jimin.. Please.." You whisper low enough for him to hear. A chuckle leaves his lips. You know he heard you, the grip on your thigh told you that. But he continued on his conversation with his friends. Ignoring the neediness in your voice.

You couldn't help but spread your legs, begging him silently to touch you. To ease the ache between your legs. You leaned back in your seat, a deep breath emitting from your lips as you squeezed your thighs together.

"So, how has it been?" You looked up, plastering a smile on your face.

"It's been g-good." Jimin tightened his grip on your thigh.

"We should hang out some time, together alone you know." You hummed, a tight smile on your face. You glanced over at Jimin. His face was stern, his eyes never leaving the boy in front of you. You placed your hand on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He let out a deep breath, straightening his posture.

You felt his hand move up your thigh, your skirt bunching up around his waist. You let out a shaky sigh. His fingers grazed over your exposed pussy, a smirk playing on his face.

"You're mine."

[star-my]

Vixen ~ Two

➼ Pairing: Jimin x OC (Shin Ara)

➼ Length: 8.4k

➼ Rating: M (minors do not interact)

➼ Content: Arranged Marriage AU, CEO AU, Mafia AU | TW: Human Trafficking (not by BTS/SKZ members); Light Violence | Bangtan and SKZ are mafia; think Kitty Gang Jimin; Jimin calls Ara 'Princess'; Smol Ara is a menace to Seokjin | SMUT: Oral (M + F receiving); Fingering; PiV; Loss of Virginity; Aftercare

➼ Thanks to @moonleeai for betaing!

➼ Taglist (Open): @bangtan-famiglia-net @kookthief @otome-wandering @sarcasticbambi

➼ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in no way represents any member of BTS, SKZ, or any other K-pop group mentioned in any way beyond the face and name claims the author made for this work.

➼ Chapter 1 (13/10/23) ➼ Chapter 3 (15/10/23) ➼ Ao3 ➼ Masterlist

Jimin knocked gently on Ara’s door. No answer sounded from within, so he poked his head in. To his surprise, his wife was nowhere to be seen. 

Frowning, he headed downstairs to ask Mrs. Lee and Jungkook if they knew where Ara was, almost walking into her.

“Princess? You’re up early.”

Her white suit was open to show her silver-gray blouse and thin gold chain jewellery that glinted in the light from the foyer chandelier.

“You look nice; where are you going all dressed up?”

“Thank you. I’m heading to the hospital to check on Appa, then to ShinCorp to talk some things over with Jin-oppa and Joon-oppa. I’ll see you at lunch. Bye, yeobo!”

With a swift kiss to his cheek, Ara headed out the door, her ponytail bouncing behind her.

Jimin let her escape with Jungkook, momentarily stalled. “Yeobo?” he mouthed, pressing his hand to his cheek.

He didn’t stop grinning all morning (at least in private).

~~~

Ara sat confidently in the seat her father normally occupied. Namjoon and Seokjin stood in front of her desk, hands clasped in front of them.

“Namjoon-oppa, you’ll take over like Abeoji wanted, and Jin-oppa, you’ll stay where you are. I will be totally uninvolved, except when I’m not, of course,” Ara winked. “Let’s try and make Appa proud so he doesn’t worry, huh? Hwaiting!”

“Hwaiting!” echoed the two men.

Jimin entered the warehouse cautiously. A couple of lanterns in the middle provided just enough light to see who he was meeting: Vixen, head of the Stray Kids mafia that had rapidly grown over the last few years.

In the shadows behind her, he could just make out her two bodyguards, dressed all in black, just like Vixen: black combat boots with steel toes, black cargo pants, a black leather jacket with steel studs and zippers, and a black mask covering the top half of her face. The black hoodie underneath the jacket covered her head, casting shadows over her face that were only broken by her glowing gold eyes.

Jimin had to admit Vixen was a bit unnerving. Her mind games started before you even saw her face-to-face; there was the reputation of the female mafia leader who lived in the shadows, whose face no one had ever fully seen. Her gang had really exploded in the past five or six years, taking over a sizable chunk of the city with minimal bloodshed. Vixen relied heavily on secrets and manipulation, preferring nonviolent threats to force. Her reputation included being a whiz with a blade, proving she wasn’t a one-trick pony.

Vixen took a step forward, the glint of a silver-and-gold dagger strapped to her thigh catching Jimin’s eye.

“Why did you want to meet?” Jimin met her gold eyes steadily.

Vixen took another step forward. “I want to ally with Bangtan. I have a partnership with Gray…we run a bar; you may have heard of it, Blueprint?”

Jimin nodded. The Blue bars run by the Gray Family were some of the most popular in Seoul: Blue Moon, Blue Side, Blue Hour, and Blueprint. “I’m listening.”

Vixen’s signature red lips turned up in a smirk.

Jungok stayed in the hospital for another few days while his private doctor got caught up on his issues and treatment, agreeing a longer stay would be more beneficial to his healing.

Once he was cleared to go home and rest, he was taken back to his house, refusing Ara’s offer to have him move in with her and Jimin.

Taking time out of her gallery-opening schedule, she made sure to visit him twice a week and check up on his care.

Jimin didn’t see Ara very much (though they did make time for their weekly dates), as they were both busy working on their separate projects; Jimin on opening Dionysus, the bar Bangtan and Stray Kids were officially partnering over, and Ara on opening Secret Secret, the name she’d finally settled on for her gallery.

~~~

Ara surveyed her closet as she changed from the outfit she’d worn to her date tonight to her comfy pyjamas.

She frowned. “Jimin hasn’t been paying me much attention lately.”

She opened her spacious drawers, holding up outfits and juggling accessories.

“Hmm…”

She pulled up her contacts list on her phone, selected a name, and pressed call..

“Hey, it’s me. Want to help me with something?”

~~~

Jimin leaned against his car in the parking lot outside the mall, frowning when he saw his wife laughing with another man.

Jealousy bubbled up in his chest, and he frowned harder as they briefly hugged before separating.

The man turned–it was her ex-boyfriend, Lee Minho–and winked at her cheekily before heading to his car. Jimin walked up behind Ara and put his arm around her waist firmly.

“Hello, Princess,” he purred in her ear. “What a surprise to see you here.”

Ara tensed but relaxed when she recognised his voice. “Hello, yeobo,” she said cheerily, as if she hadn’t just hugged her (ex?)boyfriend in front of his salad.

He scoffed quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“Shopping, of course! I found something I’m sure you’d love,” she winked at him adorably, an awkward one-two blink. “Oh, and I got you some chocolate. But what are you doing here?”

“I was coming to shop for your birthday present, jagiya. I suppose I can take you home.”

“How sweet of you to offer,” Ara smiled, and Jimin felt his jealousy fading.

While Ara was distracted, gathering her bags before stepping out of his car, Jimin slipped her phone out of her purse and into his pocket. Being the exemplary husband that he was, he dropped Ara off at her suite with her armload of bags before heading to his office.

The bookshelves were rather obvious, so Jimin’s father had constructed his secret lair opposite them. Jimin put his thumb on the light switch, the built-in sensor reading his print and unlocking the Genius Lab.

“Suga, are you busy?” He greeted his tech guy by his hacker name in case he was on a call with someone.

Yoongi grunted, turning in his chair to face him. Jimin tossed him Ara’s phone, Yoongi’s fingers snagging it out of the air. 

“Can you put a tracker on it, in case she’s ever caught up in this?”

“No problem.”

“...and while you’re at it, can you trace her activity for the next few days?”

Yoongi eyed him but said nothing, opting to work in silence. “There’s already a tracker in here. Must be Seokjin’s,” mused Yoongi.

Before the alliance, Jin and Suga were rival hackers-slash-frenemies. The first time the two met in person, Jimin was a little worried until they decided not to deck each other but talk shop instead. 

Yoongi fixed the phone and handed it to Jimin. “That all, Boss?”

“For now, thanks.” Jimin left and knocked on Ara’s door. “Hey, I found this in the car,” he said when she answered.

“Oh, thanks! I was wondering where I’d left it! I guess it slipped out of my purse when I grabbed the bags or something.” She shut the door, and Jimin headed to his office to plan.

After one of Ara’s lovely meals, the couple said goodnight and headed their separate ways. Jimin lay on his divan, planning what to say tomorrow, when his phone got an alert.

Ara was talking to Minho.

Jimin scowled and tapped into the call, mid-chuckle from Minho.

“Yeah, it was pretty obvious.” Ara laughed.

“Anything to help,” said Minho smugly. “So, how does it work?”

“It fits perfectly, you smug cat-boy. Thank you for your advice.”

“I bet he’ll be shocked when he finds out, huh?”

Ara giggled. “Yeah, I can’t wait. That’ll teach him to ignore me.”

“Tell me if it works,” snickered Jimin’s rival.

Jimin ground his teeth.

“I will. He’s been off all afternoon, I should probably tell him sooner rather than later. He probably saw us.”

“Good, maybe he’ll finally realise what he could lose.”

“You’re so cynical, Lee. But yes, I am a catch for anyone.”

“Park is either blind or in denial if he’s not in love with you.”

“Thanks for humouring me today, Minho; it was fun. See you later!”

“Night, Ara.”

Jimin huffed and disconnected.

A second later, a text from his wife popped up on his screen.

SA: Can you come talk for a minute?

PJ: I’ll be right there, Princess.

Jimin yanked his robe’s belt shut, stomped into his slippers, and flounced down the hallway to his wife’s room.

She answered his irritated knock immediately. 

All thoughts fled his mind; in front of him was a blessed sight most certainly not intended for his mortal eyes: Ara in a red lace onesie.

He swallowed and tried to refocus his thoughts. Focus, Park! Did Minho pick this out for her? They discussed her wearing it over the phone?! 

…and Jealous Jimin was back.

“Why did you want to see me?”

“You seemed off all afternoon…I wondered if something was wrong.”

“Yes, something’s wrong!” Jimin exclaimed, his eyes travelling the length of her heatedly. “You went shopping with your ex-boyfriend for that? Is he even your ex?”

Ara grinned widely. “Ah, you saw Minho and me. No, he didn’t choose this for me, I chose it myself. I did ask his opinion on a hypothetical situation or two while we were at the mall, but nothing inappropriate happened, and yes, we are definitely exes. We only had one true date, where we realised we were better off as friends. We pretended to be dating for public appearances and such, a mutually beneficial, platonic relationship to keep gold diggers and well-meaning matchmakers away. Also, I’m married to you, and I’m not a cheater. I apologise if I gave you that impression, but I have in no way, shape, or form acted in a way that would break our vows.”

Jimin sighed, knowing that Ara was right. She wouldn’t hurt him like that; she was loyal to those she cared for.

“I’m sorry. I got jealous.”

“I can see that,” she said wryly, taking his hand. “Don’t worry, yeobo, I only love you.” She looked at him from under her lashes, her eyes sparkling, yet uncertain. Attempting to stay calm and ignore the butterflies in his stomach, he replied. “I was trying to plan the perfect date tomorrow to tell you that,” he said. “I love you too.”

The uncertainty morphed into complete love as Ara tiptoed and waited for him to kiss her. It was perfect.

~~~

Their lips barely brushed, then Jimin pressed more firmly against her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him. Ara returned the favour, prodding his lips with her tongue until he opened up for her. He obliged, gentleman that he was. His warm hand trailed from her neck to her waist, sending sparks through her nerves as he grazed her almost-naked skin. 

He nipped at her lip before pulling back a smidgen, his eyes dark and hazy. “I love you, Princess.”

The words settled in her core, warm and insistent. “I love you, too.”

His plush lips turned up before he leaned forward for another kiss.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down to the loveseat so she could straddle him, running her fingers through his hair and her other hand down his firm chest.

Sensing her goal, Jimin leaned against the back of the seat to untie his robe and push it off impatiently. 

He leaned towards Ara’s tempting cherry lips again but she wasn’t focused on his face anymore.

“And why haven’t I seen you shirtless before?” she demanded, her fingers sliding teasingly across his rib tattoo. “You never told me you had abs!”

Jimin shrugged, focused on sneaking his finger under the strap of her onesie. “Didn’t think to tell you. Would it have made a difference?”

Ara paused, tilted her head consideringly.

“Yah! Want me for my mind, not my body!” He pretended to cover himself with his hands like a scandalized maiden. “I’m more than just a pretty face!”

Laughing, Ara collapsed into his neck, pressing kisses down it as an apology. Her warm, wet mouth continued down his chest, pausing to run her tongue over his nipple. He shivered, and felt her smirk at the information she’d just received.

She straightened again, dropping a last kiss on his mouth. By now he’d slid the straps of her onesie down her shoulders, the loss of support causing the neckline to droop and expose her breasts to him. 

Ara’s hips began moving slowly over his as he began kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin on her neck and chest. A tug, and the red lace pooled even lower at her waist. His hand was arrested from ripping it off completely as Ara clamped her hand over his, surprisingly firmly. 

He glanced up at her, taking in her loose, mussed hair, shiny red lips, and half-lidded eyes; the prettiest sight he’d ever seen. “Princess?”

She glanced down to their hands, biting her lip. “I…uh…you’re my one and only, Jimin.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Oh! I see…uh…do you…Should I slow down?”

“No, it’s fine. I just want it to be slow and special?” She met his eyes.

“Of course, Princess. Thank you for telling me. Is there anything else you want…?” She shook her head. “No, you’re perfect. I just thought I should tell you so you’re not surprised.”

“Right, yeah, good idea…I just thought…y’know…” “Yeah,” she giggled awkwardly, swooping in to sweetly kiss him. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

Jimin smiled widely at her. “No problem at all, jagiya.” He kissed her softly. “How about you tell me what you want me to do, eh? Do you want to keep making out or…”

“Park Jimin, we have been married four months and have kissed only a handful of times. If you stop now, I swear I’ll call Minho back!”

“No need to call your ex when your husband is right here and is more than willing to help you.”

“Good.” Ara wiggled in his lap, pointing at her bed. “What are you waiting for, then? Make me yours.”

A growl escaped his mouth as he swept her up and carried her to her bed in three large steps. He gently tossed her on the bed, crawling up her body to cage her in with his arms and knees.

Breathless, Ara stared up at him. He was so pretty and handsome at the same time. It was unfair, she decided. 

His soft, expert lips covering hers broke her from her admiring musings, a tiny noise escaping the back of her throat as his hand slid up to gently twist her nipple between his fingers. She lifted her hips so he could pull her lingerie off the final stretch, his thigh settling between her thighs. 

Only Jimin’s underwear and sweats remained, and she hooked her fingers under the elastic band of his sweats. 

He got the message, kicking them off to join the rest of their discarded clothing. He crawled up slowly between her legs, running his fingers lightly over her sensitive skin till he reached her inner thighs, diverting them to trace over her stomach and hips teasingly. 

She caught her lip between her teeth as he glanced up to check on her, the vision of her husband between her legs a sight that made her unbelievably wet. 

“This okay?” he murmured, his fingers pausing just above her heat. 

She nodded eagerly, resisting the urge to trap him between her thighs and make sure he never left her. 

The first gentle stroke of his thumb through her wetness had her gasping, nerves lighting up like she’d never felt before. 

“You’re so wet, Princess.” His awed voice was strained, his other thumb holding her open as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. 

“All for you,” she replied, hands moving to tug at her nipples.

“You smell so good. Bet you taste even better.”

She whined impatiently, and who was he to deny his wife’s wishes?

At the first pass of his tongue over her heat, they both groaned, Ara at the sensation and Jimin in ecstasy. He dove in hungrily, a man starved for his wife’s plentiful juices.

Her legs tightened around him, and her hand flew to grip his hair as he swirled his tongue just right.

He brought a finger up, gently circling her entrance, gathering her arousal and his saliva before entering her tight heat.

Her head dropped back onto the pillow, involuntarily clenching around his finger as he worked it in and out.

He groaned, sounding pained. “Can you take another, Princess?”

She gasped out an affirmative, groaning louder as a second finger joined the first.

Jimin moved them around, feeling for something.

Sparks tingled up  her spine and she gasped, “There!”

He resumed sucking at her clit as he stroked her inner walls, the pressure building higher and higher.

“Come on my face, Princess.”

With a cry, she let go, falling over the edge to pure pleasure.

When she opened her eyes, Jimin was staring at her in awe, licking his fingers clean, his pink hair mussed from her grip. “You are gorgeous, Ara.”

She smiled, pulling him in for a steamy kiss, tasting herself on him as she waited for her legs to stop shaking.

With him distracted, she flipped him, straddling his thighs, arms around his neck. “Your turn!”

“Princess, you don’t have-”

“I know, but what if I want to?” She peered up at him, fingers already working his underwear down.

She licked her hand, wrapped it around his length, and gave him a couple tentative strokes. “Tell me what you like.” She licked at the head, looking up at him for guidance.

A pained sound escaped him. “You’re doing great so far, keep doing what you’re doing. A little harder, ye-ah.”

Ara took him further in her mouth, running her tongue over the smooth skin. This would take some getting used to, but lucky for him, she was a perfectionist and willing to practice often.

Careful to keep her top lip over her teeth, she began moving up and down, attempting to take a little more each time. 

Jimin’s head was hanging back, his mouth open. “You’re doing great, Princess. Use your hand...yeah, like that.”

She coughed and pulled off him, the tip hitting the back of her throat. “Yeah, I’m going to need some practice.”

“Anytime,” he groaned, holding the base of his length firmly. “What position do you want to try?”

“Good old missionary?” she asked, settling herself.

Jimin leaned over her, grabbing a pillow and tapping her hips so she’d lift them for him to slide it under her. 

“You’re sure?” he asked her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Yes.” Hooking her arms around his neck, she smacked a quick, reassuring peck on his lips. “I feel like you’re more nervous than me.”

“Well, it’s only the responsibility of making sure I don’t ruin this for you and us forever,” he said dramatically.

She snickered, making him pout. “You’re doing an amazing job so far, jagi. I have faith in you. Besides, even if it’s not great at first, we have a whole lifetime to practice together!”

He carefully pushed in inch by inch till he was fully seated inside her, the previous orgasm and foreplay loosening her up marvelously. There was only a slightly uncomfortable stretch that was quickly fading as he kissed and nipped up her neck.

“You can move,” she said, rocking her hips experimentally. 

He started off slow and gentle, getting into the rhythm. Ara moved her hips up to meet his, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Harder,” she gasped.

He acquiesced, his head dropping to her chest, his lips finding her nipple and tugging. 

A particularly hard thrust had her nails dragging scratches down his back. “There, Jimin! I’m close!”

He moved his free thumb to her clit, rubbing in circles. “I’m close, too. Come, Princess. Let go, Ara.”

She loudly moaned his name, tightening around him and triggering his own orgasm.

“Princess…you are going to be the death of me.” He sank into her arms. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she replied, and kissed him softly. “Ew, we’re all sweaty.”

“Join me in the shower?” He kissed the tip of her nose.

“Of course, my prince.”

Gathering her into his arms, he swept her off to her ensuite, running the water till it was an appropriate warmth. 

Ara stepped in, and he lathered up a loofah with her body wash. They took turns washing each other, trading kisses and teasing touches besides the soap.

Once they had dried off with their fluffy towels, Jimin wrapped his robe around her, tied the belt, and picked her up.

“Where are you taking me?” she squealed as he headed for the door.

“My room. You’re sleeping in my bed tonight, Princess.”

The air whistled in his ear as he dodged Vixen’s roundhouse kick. He attempted to punch her stomach, but she brushed his arm away with her own. She feinted a sweeping kick and followed up with a jab to his solar plexus. 

One bodyguard pointed to Vixen. “Three points.Vixen wins.”

Shaking their sweaty hands, Jimin and Vixen ended their spar. 

His opponent took a bottle of water from a second bodyguard  and handed it to him before drinking her own. “I’m planning on attacking a human trafficking ring on Friday. I could use more manpower; care to join?” “What will you do with the ring?”

“Take care of the leaders, send the rest to the cops, find good homes and resources for the victims. Don’t worry; I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this a time or two.”

Jimin considered. “I’m in. How many men do you need?”

“Six to ten should be good. I’ll have my guy send Suga the time and place.”

~~~

The door shut behind Jimin, automatically locking. Vixen turned on her heel and headed for the back room, her inner circle already gathered there.

Vixen pushed her hood back and took her gold contacts out, grimacing. 

“Okay, there’ll be us nine, plus Jimin, Jungkook, V, Jay, Kai, Taehyun, and Yeonjun. The predicted twelve traffickers will be easily taken if we have all sixteen of us.

“Chan, when you send Suga the message, can you add that I’d like Suga to be on standby online to follow the police scanners? We don’t want them there too early, and Jin will be busy with his division.”

Chan nodded. “You got it, Vix.”

“Thanks. OK, you all take the next two days off, but prepare for Friday. I’ll be on a date at L’Domino Thursday night. I don’t think we should reuse waiters, so Hyunjin, you’re up. 

“Call or text me if anything comes up or there’s a problem. I’ll see you Friday morning for a final debrief.” 

Vixen hung her jacket in her locker and folded her hoodie, placing it neatly on the top shelf beside her mask and contacts case. 

“Boss, why aren’t you hurrying like normal?” asked Felix. “Did you hurt yourself? Need Hyunjin to look at it?”

Vixen waved off his concerns. “I’m fine. Ara just texted Jiminie to pick up ice cream on the way home. He’ll need to text her a picture of the case and ask which type she wants, so I’ll have plenty of time to escape.”

“Smart,” her boys nodded.

With a wink and a nod, she headed into the small bathroom.

Five minutes later, she emerged in old sweats, a college T-shirt, and a fluffy pink jacket; her blood-red smirk had become a pink glossy smile.

“Bye, boys.”

A beep sounded from her phone.

PJ: [1 Image Attached] Vanilla, chocolate swirl, caramel crunch, blueberry, or mint choco?

SA: Caramel crunch please🥰 Get two 😉

PJ: You got it, Princess

Friday night the members of Bangtan and TXT (Bangtan’s subunit of hoobaes) gathered in Stray Kids’ warehouse for the run-through.

Vixen sauntered in her usual outfit, but a kevlar vest bulked up her jacket. The dagger had a twin strapped by her left boot, and a pistol was fastened on her left thigh.

Her normal scarlet smile had received the expensive upgrade of fangs designed with razor-sharp edges. The better to bite you with, my dear, she smirked, remembering the first time she’d tested them out. Ah, that piece of trash had let out a most pleasing yelp when she sank her teeth into hisd forearm. Served him right; he’d attempted to choke her, besides committing many other crimes, of course.

The men introduced themselves as their callsigns, most of them meeting for the first time.

Jimin had brought JK, V, Jay, Kai, Fox, and Kang to meet Vixen and Chan, Lino, Hyune, Han, Felix, Min, Bin, and I.N. 

Chan handed earpieces out like candy, each one connected to his, Suga, and Jin’s lines. The members of Bangtan were directed by Suga and Stray Kids was guided by Chan. Jin was set to watch the police and help Chan if needed. 

The echo of doors slamming in the warehouse signalled the start of the mission as four black SUVs were filled with armoured men (and women). Tires screeched and they peeled out, ready for a hunt.

~~~

A breeze gently played with Jimin’s hair as he and Vixen carefully scouted the area ahead of their men.The soundtrack of city nightlife filled the air until Jimin broke it. 

“Do all your captains work at L’Domino?” He asked quietly.

“No; they were keeping an eye on someone for me, collecting information. It’s my chosen currency, you know.”

“It was my understanding that Min was a part of Gray.”

“He’s my spy in Gray,” Vixen returned in a monotone, peering around a shipping container’s corner.

“Do you have a spy in Bangtan?”

Even with the crescent moon’s feeble light, Jimin could tell Vixen was smirking. “What do you think?”

“Lino?” ventured Jimin.

She scoffed quietly. “You met him as your wife’s ex. No, he’s too obvious to be a spy on you.”

Up ahead, a figure of a trafficker exited from a crosspath. “Focus. Bin, two on your two o’clock.”

“Jay, one on your nine; V, one at twelve.” Suga’s voice cut through Jimin’s line. The dozen traffickers were quickly and quietly taken out by the combined gangs’ ruthless efficiency.

The shipping container’s lock was shot off. Even with the silencer on, the echo hung in the air, the humidity from the coming rainstorm accentuating every noise.

Unearthly groans sounded as the doors creaked open. Letting the people inside acclimate to the night’s dim light before barging in with bright flashlights, Vixen marshalled a few of her helpers to speak softly and convince the victims they were there to help.

The children inside still didn’t trust the men’s words, so Vixen crouched where the metal base met the damp concrete. 

Raising her hands high enough to be shown by the backlight, she spoke slowly and calmly.

“Hey, kids. My name is Vixen; I lead a mafia here in Seoul. I asked a friend of mine to help me get you guys out of here. All the bad guys out here are taken care of. The police are on their way to help you, alright? Do you have a person in charge here I can talk to and try to prove we want to help you?”

A gangly teenage boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, Vixen guessed, raised his hand.

“If you’re mafia, aren’t you the bad guys? Why would the police come here if they’re not in on it?”

Ah, lovely, it was time to have the morals talk.

“Good question! Technically, mafia are the bad guys. In this situation, however, we are what you could call the good guys. Our mafias do not participate in human trafficking–some of our members actually arrived with us because they were trafficked themselves. We may be mafia, but we have rules, and one of ours is no human trafficking. As for answering your question about the police,” Vixen sighed, wondering how to explain dirty cops and their tenuous relationship. “We sent an anonymous tip. They’ll be here in a few minutes to make sure you get support. We’ll make sure they send you home, if you have one, or that you get a good living situation worked out.”

A tween girl nudged the boy and whispered in his ear. He straightened and looked at Vixen. “We’re trusting you,” was all he said.

She nodded solemnly. “Thank you. I will do my best not to break it. While we’re waiting for the police, how about we get your information, so we can make sure you’re taken care of?”

Jin logged the kids’ info as they gave it, creating a file for each one. Suga had taken care of identifying the three head traffickers.

By the time the police arrived, the kids were all in a huddle, wearing warm hoodies a size bigger than they needed and holding a pocketknife that Jungkook had given them once they promised not to use it unless it was an emergency.

The traffickers were left in a heap, thoroughly roughed up, courtesy of Jimin, Felix, and I.N. The three men heading up the operation mysteriously disappeared from the pile containing their underlings.

Once the red and blue lights disappeared from the maze of shipping containers, carrying the kids to the station to be processed, two shadows jumped from their vantage point.

Vixen’s fist met Jimin’s in an unspoken acknowledgement before they split, heading to their respective pieces of the night.

ARA, THIRTEEN (TWELVE YEARS AGO)

Ara ducked into the closet in her dad’s office, laughing to herself. She’d been taking pictures around ShinCorp’s HQ as she explored the newly renovated and furnished office tower.

Jungok was supposed to be in soon, and Ara planned to surprise him and then show him the photos she’d taken that day; she was really improving, thanks to Jungkook and Photography for Dummies.

The sound of his door opening made her peer through the crack, ready to surprise her appa…but there was a strange young man with him.

“You’ll be organising my schedule for both ShinCorp and the Gray Family’s business. You’ll have Jungjoo’s list of legitimate contacts and who I’ll be meeting with on both sides of the business. Jungjoo has agreed to be available to answer your questions if you’re unsure of my contacts’ connections. If I’m around, feel free to ask me as well. The rest of the details are in our contract. Please do your best, Secretary Kim.”

The young man bowed to her father and bent over the desk to sign his employment papers. The new angle let Ara see more of his features.

Ah, it was one of the Kim cousins– Kim Seokjin, she believed. Ara had heard of the Gray mafia of Seoul–they’d just recently opened a new bar downtown, Blue Side. So her father was the head, huh…

“My daughter, Ara, is around today. She does not know and is never to know of Gray’s connections to ShinCorp, do you understand? Generally, I allow her free reign in the building, as she is not a mess maker, but keep an eye on her if she's in the vicinity of a forbidden area or wants to enter my office when I’m in a meeting. Keep her out of sight of any of my visiting rivals and allies, except my immediate family and Jeon Jeonghwa. I want as little attention on her as possible. Her mother’s death was truly an accident, but I don’t want a second accident, planned or not. Ara is all I have left, and I will do anything to ensure she stays safe. My daughter’s safety is of the utmost importance, understand?”

“Understood, sir.” Seokjin bowed. “I will keep Miss Ara safe with my life, sir!”

“Good. You’re dismissed.” Jungok nodded approvingly at Seokjin as the man left.

A few minutes later, he called his car around to head for a meeting.

Ara snuck out of her hiding place and crept to the door. Observing the new secretary leave for a cup of coffee, she waited until he was fully gone before she snuck out of her father’s office.

Her sneaking skills had really improved over the past couple of years. Her appa was much more secretive, and in the months immediately after her mother’s death, she’d caught him breaking off a phone call about her more than once. Wanting to know what had happened to her beloved mother, she memorised all the creaks in the floors, how to wear socks and slippers to dampen her footsteps, and to remember to check where her shadow was falling while she eavesdropped.

This, however, was the first time she’d realised her father was involved in some less-than-legal proceedings.

A shrill yelp pierced Ara’s ears as Jin caught his mug, startled by her sudden movement from under his desk.

Brown coffee splashed dangerously close to the edges of the mug he clutched to his chest. “Are you Miss Ara? Aish, you almost gave me a heart attack, child!”

“I’m thirteen, not a child,” Ara rolled her eyes. “Just call me Ara. Are you the new secretary? I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“Kim Seokjin at your service. Yes, I'm the new secretary. Your father is good friends with mine, Kim Honggil.”

“Ah, you’re one of the Kim cousins. Kim Seokjin, Kim Sihyeon, and Kim Namjoon.”

Seokjin nodded. “What’s in your hand, Miss Ara?”

She glared at him. “Ara. It’s my camera. My best friend Jungkook taught me how to take good pictures. Can I take a picture of you…oppa?”

Seokjin shook his head. “Aish, I’m going to die of a heart attack caused by this girl. Sure, you can take a picture, as long as I get a signed copy.” At her quizzical glance, he explained. “I need to have an autographed copy from when you were young and unknown, before you become some hotshot photographer and forget your first model, whom you used to call Jin-oppa.” He sighed. “Ah, the good old days…I don’t know how she forgot such a handsome face,” he mourned.

Ara giggled. “You’re ridiculous, but I like you so you can have a photo.”

Picture taken, Ara headed for the elevator and waved goodbye. “I’m just keeping you on your toes, oppa! You’ll never get old with me around!” She laughed maniacally as the door slid shut and Seokjin slumped over his desk.

“What have I gotten into?”

ARA, FIFTEEN (TEN YEARS AGO)

“Jungkook, you know how you’re going to be my official bodyguard in a couple years, when you turn 18?”

Jungkook’s head was in Ara’s lap, her fingers combing through the soft black strands. “…yeah?”

“So then I won’t have Lee watching us all the time?”

“Yes? Where are you going with this?”

“Patience, Kookie.” Ara booped his nose, making him crinkle it at her.

“Well, then I’ll be able to sneak out with you more. I won’t have to make you sneak out to get my stuff anymore, and I can really begin my- our plans.”

“But I don’t mind it! I like it!” Jungkook protested. “It keeps you safe and under Lee’s watch, where you’re supposed to be.”

“Yeah, but it’s so boring. I don’t get to practice my black belts on anything…you can join the underground rings but I can’t, yet. Ugh, I wish you were older so I could polish the plan better.”

“Slow and steady wins the race, Ara. You’ve got two years to finish learning all that stuff you want to know, as if Namjoon-hyung and Jin-hyung won’t help.”

“Yeah, but they’ll be busy for appa, and it’s too close; he’d be suspicious, and they’ll be in trouble even if I’m not. It’s good for me to know hacking and strategy, anyway. You’ve been with me for my physical training, but I can’t lead a gang just because I have five black belts in martial arts and a gun.”

“Okay, you have a point, Bug.”

“When do I not?” she smirked saucily at him.

ARA, AGE 17 (8 YEARS AGO)

Ara popped the second contact in and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Two gold eyes stared back at her. Black combat boots laced tightly; black stretchy jeans to allow for more agile movements; black kevlar weave-shirt layered under her black hoodie and leather jacket; scarlet lipstick; special-made mask seated over her face, forehead-to-nose.

Perfect.

The get-up was about as far as she could get from her typical glitter-and-pastel outfits. She slipped the knife Jungkook had given her to celebrate Vixen’s first outing into the holster, her pistol into her ankle holster, and her backup knives up her sleeves.

Vixen stepped out of the bathroom and Jungkook, also masked and all in black, fell in behind her. Their black motorcycles sped quietly through the night to the old warehouse. Underneath the floor was a lively auction in full swing.

Jungkook entered first and began mingling with the patrons, sussing out any members of Gray or a rival family she’d need to be aware of. Seven and a half minutes later, Vixen entered quietly, staying in the shadows at the back as she analysed the room. About half an hour later what she was here for was beginning to be auctioned off.

Making eye contact with Jungkook, she nodded at him to place an opening bid. Once a couple offers were made she also joined the bidding. She and Jungkook upped the price, creating a flurry of a bidding war, until Jungkook acquired one and she the other two. 

This was the highlight of the auction, so once they won the bids, the auction house cleared out slowly. Too many people leaving at once would be far too blatant to any prying eyes.

The auctioneer approached Vixen. “Lady Vixen, your goods await your retrieval.”

She nodded curtly, motioning him to step forward, and she followed him to the room at the back, covered with steel bars and securely locked up.

Jungkook passed her on his return from the vault, nodding subtly, his new purchase behind him.

The auctioneer unlocked the door and the armed guard retrieved Vixen’s purchases: two Korean-Australian teenage boys, handcuffed and blindfolded. “Pleasure doing business, Lady.”

She smirked slightly and inclined her head at the auctioneer. “Indeed …I hope to do further business with you.” She put a hand on each of the boys’ shoulders and turned them to face the exit. “Straight ahead, boys!”

With a jaunty wave at the remaining staff in the warehouse’s secret bunker, she headed for the exit to meet up with Jungkook.

Once they were topside, Vixen put motorcycle helmets on their heads, warning, “No funny business, or we all die.” She put the smaller one in front of her and the bigger one on the seat behind her. Revving her engine, she headed for her warehouse HQ, where Jungkook awaited.

~~~

The two boys Vixen had brought were put in a small, specially prepared room while Vixen surveilled them and Jungkook’s boy, who was in a room twin to the other.

Vixen didn’t put it past the black market guys to slip a plant in, attempting to pull the wool over her eyes since she was small, fairly new to the illegal scene, and a woman.

She flicked her knife open and cut the zipties binding their wrists tightly. Leaving them, she shut the door and joined Jungkook in the surveillance room.

The first boy pulled his blindfold off, blinking at the dim light till he could see a table, two chairs, and two sealed water bottles. Once he perceived no one else was in the room and it was (so far) harmless, he undid the second boy’s blindfold and started rubbing his wrists. 

They began to talk in whispers, but Vixen had bugged the room so she and Jungkook could hear everything plainly. They spoke in English, with an Aussie accent.

“Where are we?” Boy Two asked.

“Another holding cell, it looks like.” “I hope Innie’s okay.”

“Me too. At least we’re together,” Boy One reassured him. “I wonder why the ‘Lady’ bought us…” “She didn’t seem as bad as the others, but you remember Roxie…”

Both boys shuddered.

Boy Two continued, “Do you think the water is for us?”

“It could be a test. We should inspect it.”

Each boy grabbed a bottle, carefully holding it up to the weak lightbulb in the room.

“Let’s just share a bottle in case it’s not for us,” Boy One suggested, twisting open the cap.

“Good idea, Chris-sorry.”

“Chris”--Boy One– tasted a sip thoughtfully, then passed the bottle to the other. “It tastes okay.”

The water quickly disappeared, and the boys sat on the floor facing the door, backs to the wall.

It was the same position “Innie”--Boy Three– was in. He, too, had carefully inspected the water before drinking it, before retreating to his current position.

They had definitely communicated before, Vixen decided. If anyone was a plant, it was likely to be Innie, but he seemed a bit young to be an actor. 

She unlocked the door and Jungkook walked in. “Innie?” he tried.

The boy’s head snapped up. 

“Do you know ‘Chris?’”

Innie pursed his lips, then nodded slowly.

“Please come with me.”

Innie followed Jungkook to the door, retying his blindfold behind his head.

Jungkook frowned, then mimed a punch at Innie’s head, stopping just before he actually hit him.

Not a flinch of a reaction showed on Innie’s face.

Jungkook gently took his elbow and led him to the room next door, opening the door and spinning him in. 

Vixen, watching the cameras, saw the two scramble up to meet Innie, hugging him tightly. 

Jungkook rejoined her and they shamelessly eavesdropped as the three caught up.

“We were so worried about you!”

“You got taken together?”

“Yeah, by a woman. The man took you, right?”

“They must know each other,” nodded Chris.

“Are you okay?” asked Boy Two.

“Yeah, you?”

“We’re fine. What do you think they want?”

“I don’t know. The guy just came in and asked me if I knew you and told me to follow him. I didn’t see the woman, and the man had a mask on.”

“They’re listening to us, then,” said Chris. “Unless they asked the guard at the other place our names, but they just called us all ‘Boy’...”

The trio looked at each other. 

“Why? We don’t know anything; we were handcuffed and blindfolded most of the time,” said unnamed-Boy-Two.

Jungkook left Vixen to knock and enter the boys’ room.

“That’s the guy,” whispered Innie to his companions.

Jungkook kicked the chair from Innie’s cell over to the other two and nodded at them. “Sit, please.”

They sat down, eyeing him, and Jungkook moved to face them all.

“We were eavesdropping because we wanted to make sure none of you were plants to take down our newly-formed operation,” explained Jungkook. “What’s your name?” he asked Boy Two.

“...Yongbok.”

“Chris, Yongbok, and Innie?”

The boys nodded, confirming their names as Jungkook pointed at them.

“Do you remember how you got to that auction?”

Chris and Yongbok told their take on how they’d been kidnapped in Australia and became friends on the way to Korea. 

Innie was taken from his native Incheon streets and met the other two at the cells where most of the trafficked children and teens were kept. They became friends during the three weeks they were captives before they were moved to the auction warehouse the day before this one.

“No one’s looking for you back home?” Jungkook asked the Australians.

“Why?” asked Chris, while Yongbok simply shook his head.

“So you’re technically illegal immigrants,” mused Jungkook out loud, telling Vixen to contact Jin and have him finagle two new Korean IDs and an updated one for Innie.

Once that was done, Vixen joined the group in the room, smiling at the boys.

“Hello, Innie, Yongbok, Chris. I’m Lady Vixen. JK here, and I bought you from the traffickers.” She nodded at Jungkook to continue.

He inhaled deeply.

“I was a trafficked kid, too. I’m from Busan, but one day a bunch of us young street kids were grabbed and shipped up to Seoul. We were rescued by cops who were breaking up the ring, and I was adopted by one of the cops, who is friends with Vixen’s dad. I’m Vixen’s bodyguard, so we spend a lot of time together, and one day Vix hatched this scheme to help trafficked kids like me. If you want to go home or find accommodations elsewhere, that’s cool; we’ll help you as much as we can, or you can stay and help us. No pressure either way,” JK said slowly.

“Right, you spent all that money on us just to let us go home? What do we have to do first?” asked Chris sceptically.

Vixen smiled. “I know; it’s strange. But I know not all the kids get happy endings like JK did, and I don’t want that to happen to more. He’s my brother in all but blood, and I have plenty of money to spend as I please, so why not help little JKs?”

“If we don’t leave, how will we help you?”

“I’d like to analyse you separately and see what you’re best suited for. Tech, medical, espionage…” “You make it sound like a gang,” said Yongbok facetiously.

Vixen didn’t bat an eyelash. “I am starting my own mafia, if you must know.”

“Wait, jjinja?”

“Yep! There’s a difference between a mafia and a gang, you know,” Vixen explained. “Mafia are higher calibre and have more rules. They only bring out the big guns if they need them; they prefer to have boring meetings first to attempt peace or treaties before full-on bloodshed. Ideally, no one knows they’re mafia. They’re the one percent. 

“In comparison, gangs are…the middle class, at best. Gangs are always fighting for their turf, showing off their affiliations. There is a world of difference between a gang and a Family.”

The three fell silent, contemplating.

“What if I join and I want out later?” asked Innie.

“As long as you spill no secrets about us, you’re free to leave whenever. I’ll even help,” promised Vixen.

“I’m in,” they decided at last.

“Glad to have you join us!”

Jungkook left and Vixen stood up, slapping her thighs. “Okay, JK’s off to prepare your assessments for later. I have a room ready, but I’d like it if you’d shower and see my doctor to make sure you’re all in good health before you sleep.”

They agreed to her suggestion, and she led them down the hallway to a plain wooden door.

Rapping on it four times in a row, she waited till a tall, lean man with long dark hair answered.

“Hey, Doc, these are tonight’s recruits: Chris, Innie, and Yongbok. Dr. Hyunjin is my team’s doctor–he’s currently apprenticing under my father’s doctor, Dr. Lee. Are you okay with me leaving to get some breakfast for you?”

Chris nodded, and Vixen left with a smile and a look for Dr. Hyunjin.

JK found Vixen in the small kitchen, frying egg rolls. He snagged one off the plate and she smacked his hand.

“Tonight went well, Bug.” He leaned against the counter, mouth full of egg.

She turned back to the stove, rolling another layer. “Names, JK. Yeah, it did. Thank you for helping me. How were the memories?”

“Better than I’d hoped. I think it helped that I was the one in power that time, going there to help instead of as a weak little kid, y’know.” “Mmmh.” Vixen flipped the roll onto the plate and sliced it neatly. “Hyunjin’s making sure they’re all physically okay, but I’m sure we’ll need to get them a counsellor, too. Should I hire one when we make it big?” she mused.

Jungkook swallowed another slice of egg roll and contemplated as he danced away from Vixen’s spoon. “It probably wouldn’t hurt, but I don’t think you need to worry about that at the present.”

“Right. Thanks, Kook.”

~~~

The boys were in pretty good shape, all things considered, so once they said they were ready for their assessments, Jungkook set them up.

Jin made and dropped off IDs for Bang Chan, Lee Felix, and Yang Jeongin–the names the boys chose for themselves–now that they were confirmed to stay as a part of Stray Kids for the foreseeable future. 

Chan became the Head Strategist and Hacker, Felix the Head of Security (Vixen’s bodyguards and strike team), and Jeongin was appointed one of her bodyguards.

Seo Changbin was her other main bodyguard, and the pair became known as the Double IN team.

Vixen’s close friend Minho was her spy in high society since he could gather intel on the male-only parties that she couldn’t attend. 

Her second spy was a street kid Jungkook had saved in the winter and introduced to Ara. He fell for her hard and rapidly agreed to join Stray Kids as its first member, though officially he was still unaffiliated with any gang or mafia. Jisung (or, as his contacts knew him, Han), was Vixen’s Head of Espionage.

Even the best-trained forces aren’t always perfect, and Ara’s small band often needed medical attention. Namjoon was able to get Hyunjin in with the Gray Gang’s doctor as an apprentice medic; when Hyunjin wasn’t busy patching up sparring wounds, he was acting as an infiltrator for Vixen, utilizing his good looks to their best advantage. He was kept in the wings, so he wouldn’t become easily recognized.

Since Jungkook couldn’t be with Vixen all the time, he began training Felix and Jeongin as her bodyguards and fighters. Felix was promoted to chauffeur once he got his license, and Jeongin, or I.N. –his street name– became the Head of Information.

Changbin became a member of Stray Kids by following Jungkook and Vixen from an underground fight he’d spectated at. Finding them curious, he stalked them back to their HQ, where they agreed to let him join once he proved his skills in the ring. As the son of a wrestler, he was a prime candidate for bodyguarding.

Vixen’s third and final spy, Kim Seungmin, was kept under wraps from all but her inner circle. He was needed on the inside of Gray, to uncover the more mundane information Namjoon and Seokjin were usually too busy to gather for her. These eight became Vixen’s closest friends and joined Jungkook in the ranks of honorary brothers.

A/N: Jungkook's nickname "Bug" for Ara is a shortened form of the nickname "Shutterbug" because she was always taking pictures.

[iamthecatwhotypes]

the letter (bts)

It started with an unsigned letter...

💘Pairing: Fem!OC x Yongbok/Secret Admirer | Sincerely AU 📚Genre: Sincerely... AU (m.list) | Romantic Angst 🔞Rating: 18+ ⌨Word Count: 4.4k ✋🏽Warnings: Unhealthy relationship (edging on neglect; quick to anger) 🗣Summary: Jinju's birthday started out rough... but a curious letter from a secret admirer gives her new hope. The problem is, which of her friends has a crush on her? 💌A/N: Hi! I'm new, but have been lurking for a while. I've had this idea in my head for a while and wanted to give this a try. If you have any constructive criticism or anything you want to say about this, please feel free to reach out. I'd love to hear from you! 😁If you want to read on AO3, you can! 🥰 I know a lot of people prefer to read a whole story when it's done. If you want me to tag you when this series is finished, let me know and I'll tag you when the finale drops.

There was something in the air that Friday night.

It felt… maybe a bit romantic, really. The sky had faded to a soft blue with fluffy clouds bathed in pastel pinks and oranges while the horizon was aglow in dazzling gold. Chasing after the cotton candy clouds from the east was a storm the color of spilled ink. They sprinted along the sky, gobbling up the half moon that hung low and bright.

Rainy nights were my favorite. I was convinced they washed away all the negativity of the day or week and left me with a clean slate.

Maybe it’ll sound a little crazy or overdramatic, but it felt like there was something fated in the crisp breeze that whipped through my hair. It felt like I was on the precipice of something exciting and new starting.

I loved the way it seemed like everyone around me was so happy while being bathed in the soft glow of the street lights that were flipping on one street at a time.

I loved nights like this. They made me think of home when I was young. I'd sit with my mom and brother and watch the lightning until either the storm ended, or I fell asleep. 

In my moment of nostalgia, I looked around for my boyfriend, Yongbok, hoping to wrap my hands around his arm and walk tucked up against him, but saw him already so far ahead of me that he was almost to the restaurant we were going to meet our friends at. 

I paused for a moment, my shoulders slumping against the sudden brunt of disappointment. My jaw went slack as my heart slid down my ribs into my gut and dissolved in its bath of acid.

Why was he so far ahead? He almost always walked with me. I mean, yeah, he was a much faster walker than I was, but he had a bit of height on me and naturally had a longer stride.

I blamed my outfit. I didn’t often wear skirts or heeled sandals. Even though the long champagne colored skirt I wore had a slit up to the middle of my leg, I felt awkward walking in it. It felt almost alien to dress this feminine. The bag I had brought was bulkier than I was used to as well.

I guess I felt a bit like a puppy that had yet to grow into its paws.

Despite all of that, he should have been walking beside me like a proper boyfriend would.

Although… we have been going through sort of a rough patch, I guess. We’d made plans to go out tonight to celebrate my birthday months ago. Maybe he felt like if he didn’t show up tonight, then all our friends would know we were having problems and he didn’t want them to notice. 

I hoped that meant he still wanted to try and work things out with me.

I heaved a sigh and hurried after him, nearly breaking into a sprint in order to meet him at the door. He held it open with his foot and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

A small part of me was worried he'd started to be embarrassed by me. I had gained a bit of weight since I stopped doing my normal dance classes. I didn't think it had been a lot, but I had caught him looking at my tummy a couple of times.

Maybe he was just excited for everything that we had planned to do tonight. 

I felt myself get excited at the idea he'd gotten me something nice.

Maybe he was going to finally propose and was just nervous.

Why would he be nervous though? It wasn't like I would say no!

I smiled up at him sheepishly when I lowered my head and slipped past him and into the restaurant.

I loved this restaurant. The walls were black and the lights that hung overhead were low. It smelled of meat and fish and spices.

It reminded me of how my family's house had smelled when I was a child and my grandmother was cooking.

I looked around, plastering a smile on my face and searching for my friends.

I spotted Namjoon’s freshly dyed purple hair in a far corner and grabbed Yongbok's wrist, pulling him along with me as I navigated towards the group, my smile full and authentic now. 

Yongbok pulled his hand from mine and skirted past me, almost bumping into a waitress with a tray full of sushi, gimbap, and a delightful smelling udon. 

She gasped and steadied the tray with her free hand, her mouth agape as I waved her on, apologizing quietly for his rudeness.

Why was he acting like this? He was being so rude and embarrassing!

I scowled at him and walked over to the table, forcing the smile to grace my face again as almost everyone looked over at me.

I could almost feel the judgement in their eyes as Jimin pulled a chair out for me and pushed it in as I sat while everyone at the table wished me a happy birthday. I smiled shyly at them and bowed my head several times in gratitude while holding my hands together in thanks.

Even though it should have been Yongbok seating me, I thanked Jimin anyway. 

He was always a gentleman.

I looked at Yongbok and sighed again when I saw him already deep in conversation with Jungkook who had just started getting a full sleeve of tattoos and, of course, Yongbok was curious about it. He’d wanted to get tattoos for a while now and Jungkook had been the only one in our friend group brave enough to start.

The tattoos I could see on his knuckles were hard to read in the quick moment I looked at, but they looked crisp enough to look decent.

“Look at you!” My best friend, Chaeyoung leaned close to whisper into my ear as she took my bag and admired it for a moment before hanging it from a hook under the table I didn’t know existed. “I bet Yongbok is just itching to get his hands on you tonight!”

She hid her giggle with her long, slender hand. I did my best to laugh along with her to avoid suspicion. It’d been such a long time since Yongbok had touched me… since he’d hugged me… I thought I would probably erupt with joy as soon as he even so much as held my hand.

“Well, you look stunning.” Chaeyoung continued sincerely before letting her eyes gaze at the candles flickering in the center of the table. She went far away for a moment. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I am a little jealous you have a boyfriend on your birthday. Mine was so lonely.”

I looked her over and scoffed. She was always so elegant with her high cheekbones, small forehead, and full hips that swung like a pendulum when she walked. She was everything I considered to be perfect. I couldn’t understand why she was still single. “You’ll find the right guy soon!”

“I hope so.” Her shoulders slumped enough for her collarbone to peek out from under the sleeveless black cocktail dress she wore.

I nudged her with my arm and leaned close, glancing around the table quickly to see who was watching us. “Have you told… you know… how you feel?”

Her eyes flicked up to the man who sat quietly on the other side of the table, between Jungkook and Namjoon, staring at a glass of water that was sitting in a pool of its own condensation. She shook her head and pulled her waist length black hair behind her ear. “No. If he likes me, he needs to approach me.”

“What if he’s shy?”

She gave a nonchalant shrug and took a sip of her red wine, the glint of the candles catching her long, almond nails painted in a nude shade. She thought carefully for a moment and met my eyes. “I think he likes someone. He’s been acting differently recently.”

I nudged her again as a pair of waitresses came around, setting steaming bowls of clear soup in front of us and taking our entree orders. “It could be you.”

She offered me a smile. “I hope so.”

We giggled together before beginning to eat our soups.

I looked around the table at everyone laughing together and sat back with a smile. 

I hadn't known anyone when I moved to Seoul as a teenager. It was only once I had met Yongbok that anyone at this table came into my life.

My life had become so rich and full with everything everyone brought to share with me.

I couldn't imagine my life without them.

“So… Jinju….” Jimin rubbed his hands on his trousers and looked over at me with a smile. I met his gaze and raised a brow, waiting for him to continue, watching as he ran a hand through his thick blond hair and cleared his throat. He shifted his weight and turned towards me. “What… um… what are we doing afterwards? I think it's been kept a surprise from us when, really, we should have been the ones to surprise you.”

I laughed as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, his eyes roving my face. 

His sudden attention on me was a little confusing for me. Jimin had always been kind, but I had written it off as him being polite to his friend's girlfriend. 

I couldn't lie though, it was nice to have a man talk to me so kindly.

Yongbok looked up at us too. His large eyes narrowed suspiciously while going from Jimin to me and back again.

That was odd. 

Was he jealous or had he just forgotten our plans? I couldn't be sure. 

I came back to myself and put on my friendliest smile while laying my hands on the wood table.

“But I love surprising you all! I hope you don't mind.”

I dipped my head shyly. I hoped I hadn't inadvertently caused offense. I really didn't think anyone would mind. I had never been a fan of birthdays and really just wanted the attention to be off of me.

Jimin chuckled and ran a hand down the black blazer he wore, waving the other to dispel my worry. He softened his hand and offered a gentle smile. “Of course not. 

“I thought that since we were so close to Lotte World, that we could go there after we eat and do a scavenger hunt. I have a little gift for the winner.” I had gifts hidden away in my purse for everyone though, but I wasn’t going to admit that now. 

“It’s raining now though, my dear.” Yongbok interjected, his deep voice tinged with a gravelly undertone, hinting that I was being ridiculous. He used the endearment to try and soften his tone.

“I…,” I didn’t have much time to respond before Taehyung piped up, his eyes still on his glass.

“I drove.” He pushed his white linen napkin along the edge of the glass before looking up at me first then quickly around the table and back to his glass again. He swallowed hard and shrugged a shoulder as the weight of the collective stare went to him. “I can’t fit everyone, but….”

He let his words fall away, thankfully saved by the waitresses and a pair of runners who came up to our table and laid our meals out before us.

I couldn’t help but notice Yongbok glower at him for a moment before whipping open his napkin and laying it over his lap.

What was wrong with him?

I glanced at Chaeyoung to see if maybe I was overreacting, but she was watching me worriedly as she plucked up a piece of beef.

I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but I knew it was hollow. I couldn’t lie to her very well.

We fell into eating a bit quieter than before.

I appreciated Taehyung stepping up to help keep my birthday perfect. At some point in time, without me even realizing, he and Jimin had become my friends too… genuinely.

I didn’t know what I had done to earn that, but I was very grateful. 

The world felt a little smaller and less scary with them in it.

Eventually, we finished our meals and looked outside to see the rain had become so heavy that the street was practically empty save for a few stragglers who were drenched and huddled into their jackets and wincing against the elements.

Jungkook was the first to speak, always quick and eager to help in any way he could. “I think we should take Jinju to the zoo tomorrow. Or… maybe the aquarium.”

Namjoon nodded, pointing at him as he clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. “Namdaemun would be cool too.”

“Oh… the Seosomun Museum is close to there.” Jimin chirped, glancing at me as he crossed his legs and sat back in his chair. “We could make a day of it if we wanted to.”

“Oh!” Chaeyoung cried out and leaned forward, her brow pinched and her eyes narrowed. “We could go to Sky Pizza!” She turned to me and put her hand on my arm. “That’s Bong Joon-Ho’s restaurant in Parasite!”

“We’re taking a tour of Seoul tomorrow.” Yoongi suddenly spoke with a breathy, deep laugh. “We may as well go to the National Park Mountain Museum.”

“Where is that?” Chaeyoung pulled her phone from her purse and tapped the name into her map app then looked up with wide eyes. “Bro! That’s so far away!”

Namjoon smiled until his eyes were half moons and shook Yoongi’s hand. “I see you’re getting out more.”

“That’s almost in Gyeonggi! That’s like an hour away!”

I was about to say that I loved getting out of the city, but Yoongi spoke again, waving his hand, his pinky slightly curved.

“Jinju, what would you like to do tomorrow?”

Everyone’s eyes shifted over to me and it was suddenly hard to breathe. I blinked rapidly and felt my mouth grow dry as my jaw went slack.

I couldn’t choose the museum Yoongi had suggested even though it sounded wonderful. Chaeyoung would be too miserable travelling that far. I made a note to go there later on my own. I sat up straight with a bright smile, watching subconsciously as almost everyone mirrored my movement. “I think we should go to the aquarium, Seosomun Museum, and Sky Pizza. If that’s okay?”

I looked over at Chaeyoung as she wrapped her arms around mine with a giggle. “That’s gonna be so fun!”

“Let’s see if it’s still raining tomorrow.” Yongbok’s voice was drowned out by Taehyung and Jimin offering to drive all of us, which made him roll his eyes.

Part of me felt bad for him to be ignored. I knew he hated it, but maybe the others were ignoring him since he was in such a foul mood.

I tried to compensate for him by being the brighter one.

“I’m really excited. It’ll be nice to do some new things.” I smiled at no one in particular.

My eyes flicked to Yongbok as he clinked his shot glass together with Jungkook’s and threw his drink back. I hadn’t even realized the grapefruit soju on the table. Yongbok locked eyes with me and pointed at me with a grin on his full lips then poured himself another shot. He raised it towards me, waiting for a moment for our bewildered friends to quickly follow suit when they realized there was going to be an impromptu toast. 

“Here’s to our beautiful Jinju on her birthday.” Yongbok smiled and gave a chuckle, the mood brightening for a moment as our friends broke into a smile and parroted him before he continued, interrupting a few of them. “May we all be so accommodating.”

I thought I heard a hint of sourness to his tone that the others seemed to gloss over. 

I smiled and bowed my head in thanks to my friends before a crack of thunder shook the building and made the lights flicker. We jumped and looked to see if the building had been hit.

“I think that's our signal to go.” Namjoon finished off his beer and stood with the rest of the table following suit quickly. We followed him to the counter to pay.

“Thank you all for such a lovely evening.” I bowed to the group at the large double doors that were painted black with an ornate design painted gold in the center of both of them. “It was good to see you all again and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow!”

I gladly accepted a hug from Chaeyoung, Jimin and Taehyung then shook hands with Namjoon and Jimin. Yoongi and Jungkook both gave me a small bow before looking out the windows as a flash of lightning illuminated the sky for a moment.

“I'll drive you home, Namjoon.” Taehyung patted the man on his shoulder as Jungkook fished his keys from the pocket of his black trousers and Yoongi pulled his black blazer over his tight black turtleneck.

“You two walked, right?” Jimin turned to us, raising his brow as Yongbok nodded, a sense of disappointment seeming to wash over him as his shoulders drooped a little. “I'll drive you home.”

I stepped up to him with a smile and held my hands demurely before me. “Thank you for your help, Jimin. Yongbok and I appreciate it very much.”

The tips of his ears grew red as he tipped his head away with a smile and ran his hand through his hair again as Yoongi swung the door open for us, his hand up to shield himself from the rain.

“Thank you!” I put my hand on his shoulder as I brushed past him, my skirt quickly becoming plastered to my thighs as the rain threatened to drench me entirely. He nodded and gave the fastest smile I had ever seen before looking away. 

Yongbok put his hand on my waist, pulling me close and guiding me quickly to Jimin’s car. He pulled away and sat in the front, leaving me to start to slip in the back before remembering I didn't have my purse.

“I forgot my bag!” I stood despite Yongbok's grunt of disgust and shielded my eyes with my hand as a waitress came out with my bag. I took it from her with a bow. “Thank you!”

“Jinju! Get in the car!” Yongbok yelled through the window at me as I opened the door and dropped inside, thankful for the quickly heated interior.

“Sorry.”

“It’s…”

“Next time be more mindful.” Yongbok barked over Jimin, glowering at me from his spot as I sank into the back of my seat with wide eyes. “You're ruining the interior.”

My jaw went slack.

I was so confused.

He’d never berated me in front of other people before, let alone his closest friends. 

I don’t think he’s even ever raised his voice to me before. Why was he being so cruel? And on my birthday too. 

It made my heart drop as I lowered my head while Jimin stared at him, his playful, sweet eyes now dark and hard.

He moved his jaw from side to side before taking a deep breath and holding his hand up, palm down, trying to diffuse the situation. “Let’s not let a little rain ruin tonight. This car’s been through much worse than this.” He laughed, bringing me, at least, a little lightness and I relaxed. “I was getting the car washed one time and forgot to roll my window up until I was being sprayed in my ear.”

“Bro… you did what?” Yongbok stared in confusion at Jimin as he covered his face with his hands and laughed. 

Perhaps it was mean of me, but it was nice to see him be humbled after being rude to me.

“Yeah, I drove home with all the windows down to try and dry it out.” Jimin sighed and looked back at me when I covered my mouth as I giggled. “But anyway, don’t even worry about it. You’re fine, I’m not mad.”

I smiled and looked up at him through my lashes. “Thank you, Jimin.”

Jimin tried to get a conversation going, but with Yongbok’s mood, the short trip to our apartment felt like an eternity.

Jimin pulled up to the curb and put the car into park, twisting in his seat and reaching back to smile at me. “Happy birthday, Jinju. I’m sorry it rained, but hopefully tomorrow will be better.”

“I'm sure it will be. Thank you again for coming out with us and driving us home.”

Yongbok was out of the car and opening my door suddenly, his voice . “Remember your purse this time.”

I tried to smile but my lips refused to pretend.

I grabbed my purse and stepped out of the car, waving to Jimin before hurrying to catch up with Yongbok who was practically at the door of our building already. 

“What's wrong with you?” I glared up at him, watching as he threw his hands up and walked away. He went through the door to the stairs and let it slam behind him. 

I stood staring after him.

What happened? What had I done?

All I wanted to do was cry. 

I felt my chin tremble and remembered that my clothes were still wet. Even if my heart was breaking, I had to go take care of myself.

I went to the elevator and trudged my way to our door and tapped in the code. I slipped inside and stepped out of my shoes, holding my purse to my chest.

It only took a moment for me to hear him playing a video game loud enough that I was sure our neighbors would hear the woman screaming alongside the gunfire.

I felt so completely defeated. This wasn’t how I planned on my birthday going.

I had been so hopeful that today we would play nice and maybe it would start feeling like we were a couple again.

I wiped my eyes and went to the closet, dropping my bag into its place in the corner of my side. I went into the bathroom and began to draw a hot bath with a healthy scoop of lavender epsom salt.

I sank into the hot water carefully and sighed as I laid my head against the pillow, completely encased in the water.

I stared up at the ceiling and sighed. 

What was I supposed to do? Was there anything I could do to save the relationship?

It was just a rough patch. All couples go through rough patches. I did love him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I didn’t want to just throw it away without trying.

The next morning as we were rushing to get out the door to meet with Jimin and the others he had picked up, I remembered at the last moment that I had forgotten my wallet inside my purse. When I grabbed it and yanked it free from my bag, a sloppily folded piece of paper fell to my feet.

What was this?

I crouched down and picked it up, tipping my head as I unfolded it, thinking it was a receipt.

Hello darling,

The words met me in a neat hand.

I drew a deep breath and glanced over my shoulder. It wasn’t Yongbok’s handwriting. Even when he did his best handwriting, this was remarkably different.

I continued to read it, grateful for the brevity of it.

I know I shouldn’t be writing this to you, but I feel that if I don’t do something to give me freedom from you, I’ll go mad. So, here’s the truth: I’ve liked you for a long time and wish you all the happiness and love in your life. You deserve the best life and to be treated like a queen. You inspire me to be a better man and I thank you for that. Although I don’t think you’ll ever know who I am, I am grateful to have you in my life.

My mind raced and my heart thundered.

Someone had… what? A crush? On me?

Who could this be? Why did they choose now to tell me? When had they put this in my bag? Had it been there for long and I just hadn’t noticed it?

No. It had to have been from last night since it was on top of my wallet.

I blinked several times as Yongbok called for me.

Someone from last night had a crush on me. One of my friends felt something for me.

Had they sensed things hadn’t been well between Yongbok and I and was aligning himself up to be my next beau?

Who was it?

I was going to end it there and wish you all the best, but my soul won’t let me sleep without saying the deepest secret I have. I know you’re taken and I am sorry to drop this in your lap now, but please forgive a poor, heartsick man because I do wish you were mine. Will I give this to you? I know I shouldn’t, but the thought that maybe, just maybe, one day it could happen, is to strong to resist. We’ll see what happens, I guess. But, for now, I am happy to have you as a friend. Take care. Eat well. Sleep well. Study well. You are loved.

It ended there without any mark of the sender.

I swallowed hard and felt my eyes prick with warm tears. I trembled as I brushed them away and stuffed the letter into my everyday bag.

I should have thrown it away. I should have been loyal to Yongbok, especially if I wanted to keep our relationship alive.

Why did I keep it?

I brushed past Yongbok, staring at his thin, well-shaped jawline and cool eyes and went out to Jimin’s car that was idling by the curb.

I looked up at the fluffy white clouds in the brilliant blue sky. 

Someone who loved me was looking at those same clouds.

What a strange and wonderful thought.

[yoonbroom]

hi idk if you do this but like i really can't find this fic and I think I need all the help I can get it was really emotionally breaking?!

it's was a jimin ff where they used to date back in college and broke it off because he had to leave for broadway..? And like he comes back and starts working at his old theatre again and fooling around with the oc's friend who also works in theatre ( in design ) and it goes something along those lines ...

Sry if this bothers you 😞

Hi it doesn't bother me at all! is this the fic your looking for?

Love Again by @taestefully-in-luv

[minbon]

🐻🐯 KTH FICS 🐯🐻

My taehyung reads revolve mainly around brother's best friend, best friend and arranged marriage AUs and those with angsty themes.

°°°°°•°

● hush, yeah? - @kithtaehyung [brother’s best friend au, music festival au ; smut]

I'm at the corner, waiting for the next part for this series 🥲

● The Island - @taestefully-in-luv [strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.]

This is one of the first kth fics I've read. I was sooo into finding out if there would be a happy ending that I binged-read all the chapters within a day. This one's a good read ♡

● The Fun Day - I , II - @hoseoksluna [fluff, a bit angsty]

Thought Tae was a ghost here hehe (or was he really? read and find out lol). Also love the pjm in here. (AND, Luna , the one who wrote this, is a fave of mine ☆)

● Baggage - @back2bluesidex [angst, exes AU]

A hand-written letter... and some angst. I cried. 🥺

● Rainy days - @back2bluesidex [angst, exes AU, follow up drabble to Baggage]

I want to tell Tae that expressing his guilt and regret will not be able to make things go back the way they were before. (We gotta keep the angst going lol)

● loving you is all i know - @jiminrings [heavy angst, unrequited love (at first)]

By far my fave fic with a non-human character. The angst in here broke my heart. tears won't stop falling since the mid part up to the ending. 🥺

~ arranged marriage × angst for the next 5 fics* (why do I love this combination??? 🤔🥴*) ~

● One Night Stand - @sodoyouknowbts [angst, romace, arranged marriage

● Love Me or We Both Go Down - @gukyi [fluff, angst, smut, arranged marriage]

● Dichotomy - @kpopfanfictrash [arranged marriage]

● Maybe i do - @chateautae [arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst ]

● All this stigma - @army-author [heavy angst, arranged marriage au, smut]

**

~ a friend / a friend's brother / a brother's friend ~

● Backstreet serenade @jungkxook [band au / brother’s best friend au, smut]

● Crazy for You - @oddinary4bts [best friend’s older brother, a little bit of fake dating trope, idol!au, angst, smut, fluff]

● On the 6AM Train - @bangtan-madi [best friend to lovers, unrequited love/one-sided pining, a realistically happy ending]

● Talk slow - @writtenwhalien [brother’s best friend, exes to lovers AU]

● One of the Boys - @littlemisskookie [childhood friends/bestfriend au, fluff, angst, smut]

•••••°•

Happy Reading (or Re-Reading) ‼ ♡

(c)

[daechwitatamicrecs]

oh i was so hopeful and i should have been way more prepared for you to DASH MY HOPES ONTO THE ROCKY SHORE you VILLAIN.

you two!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TALK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Need to Know (Jimin x OC)

Summary: Red dress, red lips, stolen glances. That's all it takes for Jimin's resolve to break, and for you to propose an arrangement.

Pairing: Jimin x OC

Genre: Exes; smut, angst, mutual pining territory

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4.3 K

Warnings: language, alcohol, dirty thoughts, mind games, fingering, handjob, sex against a wall, drunken phone calls and misunderstandings

A/N: A short drabble about our favourite exes who can't stay away from each other. Set around three months after Familiar Faces. Mostly pwp - minor plot for the series, but can be read standalone.

Tagging: @parkizabelle @cherrysoulth @bbl32 @confessionsofamarshlily @dreaming-with-happiness @ggukkieland @kflixnet @k-radio

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop me a comment/ask :)

Listen to: "need to know" by doja cat

jimin masterlist | main masterlist

“You really know how to drive me crazy, you know that?”

He doesn’t sound like he’s praising her for it. He sounds frustrated, like she’s a puzzle he’s been trying to solve for years, the solution constantly out of his reach.

But his hand, flat on the wall next to her head, the tips of his fingers pressing into the wallpaper as though he’s just holding himself back, his clenched jaw as his gaze stays fixated on her mouth, only flickering up to meet her own eyes… they tell a different story.

Sooah tries again. “Jimin…”

He swallows and bites his lip. The sight of it is enough to make her fall silent, enough to make her aware of how close his body is to hers. The music is low and thumping, the walls practically vibrating with the bass. She can’t help but remember the last time they were at a party like this, meeting once again for the first time in two years. The attraction then had been immediate, almost like they were picking up where they’d left off… until a complication had surfaced.

The moment Jimin had caught wind of the fact that she was there with a date that night, he’d stormed off. His response had been to sulk, lash out and try to one-up her, until she’d revealed in a huff that her date wasn’t really a date, not the way he thought it was. A couple of weeks later, he’d wanted to “hang out”, and they’d fucked in his apartment after ten minutes of small talk - all because her date wasn’t really a date.

Well, tonight, her date is definitely a date. And Jimin knows it.

“Why aren’t you with him right now?” he asks, almost as if he knows what she’s thinking.

Sooah swallows. She’s at eye level with his jaw; with the way he’s standing before her, almost towering over her and backing her into the wall, she’s close enough to touch her lips to his neck. The black button-down he’s wearing is unbuttoned to the third button, a deliberate show of smooth, taut skin. His cologne smells of satin and sex.

“I’m with you,” she breathes, forcing herself to look him in the eye.

Jimin’s hair falls into his eyes as he exhales raggedly, his teeth gritted with what he can only identify through the haze of alcohol as irritation, unpreparedness, jealousy and restraint. Irritation, because he wasn’t supposed to be at this party at all, but a few choice words of emotional manipulation by a some friend had brought him here, a quick stop before a fancier work event.

Unpreparedness, because he didn’t know Sooah would be here but he supposes he should have, for it isn’t a party without Kim Sooah. It hasn’t been, ever, not since high school. Jealousy, surely because, once again, she is here with a date. A genuine date this time, reminding Jimin that it’s been over a month since he last saw her, and that’s on no one but him.

Restraint… The hand on the wall clenches into a fist. How is he supposed to hold onto it, the restraint, when it’s her, when it’s Kim Sooah, looking like that, and gazing up at him like this? Her red lips part, and Jimin takes a step closer automatically, their fronts now brushing.

She wants it, too, surely. That look can’t mean anything else, can it? The fact that she’s here, with him, in a secluded corner of the farmhouse while the rest of the party carries on elsewhere, her floral scent mixed with the faint smoke making his head blur… it has to mean something.

Sooah reaches out to touch the bottom of his jacket, and Jimin feels himself stir in his jeans. She’s here… he can reach out, wrap his free arm around her waist and kiss her, kiss her so deeply that she’d sink right into him, her body molding into his like it always has…

I’m with you. 

The most annoying reminder of the night rears its ugly head, the reason he’s been so taken off guard, the reason they’ve been snarking at each other all night before converging here, alone.

“You shouldn’t be.” With all the self-control that got him through debut, Park Jimin pushes off against the wall and puts some much needed distance between them. “Go back to your boyfriend, Sooah.”

His heart can’t take much more; ignoring the look in her eyes, the one he’s too afraid to decipher, he turns around and leaves the party, just as the rest of the crowd rings in the new year.

That was three weeks ago.

Her disappointment in his lack of action, at his hesitancy to just admit what he wanted had stayed the rest of the night, seeping into every conversation she had and leading her to even avoid Donghyun for the rest of the night. She wasn’t being fair to him, she knew that… somewhere, in the back of her mind.

But at the time, she’d been more preoccupied with how Jimin had just left, how after an entire hour of heavy eye contact and jealousy that any sentient being could pick up on from miles away, he’d once again shown her that, sure, he wanted her - he just didn’t want her that bad.

It had lasted till around three am; she remembers, because she’d been sobering up far too quickly for her liking and was on the phone with her friend’s boyfriend, informing him that Eunji was being safely driven home along with three others by Hyeri, the consummate teetotaller and designated driver of their extended group. The phone had blinked brightly at five minutes past three, when her own phone had buzzed in the pocket of her jeans.

Seeing Jimin’s name flash on the screen gave her only a moment’s pause, half-hoping that they could fight it out on the phone if they needed to. She’d answered, guns ready and blazing, only to hear Jimin, drunk out of his mind, talking incoherently on the other end.

She’d had every intention of telling him to sleep it off and hanging up, but something about how ironically sincere he was suddenly being, and how badly she wanted him to just talk instead of playing their usual games had made her hesitate, and she’d leaned tiredly against a pillar as he continued.

He hadn’t made too much sense overall, but one thing he’d said had sent a pang through her heart. Stop bringing dates, he’d demanded, half-whining and half-shouting. She’d winced at the volume but the fact that he’d stopped beating around the bush and finally said something substantial about how he felt… the disappointment in her had turned almost into guilt by now, and she’d found herself wishing that it didn’t take two parties and what seemed like a gallon of liquor for him to be honest with her.

Naturally, neither of them have mentioned that call since. It’s been three weeks and unfortunately, this time, the ball is in Sooah’s court. She knows for a fact that he won’t reach out to her; even if he doesn’t remember the call, she’d been the one with a date and Jimin’s wounded pride is not something that should be taken lightly. If he does remember the call… well, then he’s definitely not reaching out to her first, no matter what.

Sooah doesn’t mind, not really. Even through the drunkenness, there had been a glimpse of the old Park Jimin - or the young Park Jimin, seventeen years old, rosy cheeked and shyly confessing after months of subtle coaxing that he did, indeed, have a crush on her. Now, despite everything, she takes the plunge and invites him to an event.

“What kind of event?” he asks suspiciously.

Sooah rolls her eyes, knowing he’s just stalling. He’s trying to sound nonchalant, too, but she plays along. “Just a work thing,” she says serenely, wrapping her scarf tighter around her neck in the cold wind. She takes a sip of the Americano in her hand, hoping for some hot, liquid courage. “It’s a party our client is hosting for an Australian label. The client is bringing along plenty of guests - lots from the music industry,” she adds, hoping that will sway him. “You’ll have lots of people to talk to.”

“Your client is okay with you inviting whoever you want?”

She takes a deep breath, knowing this is the important part. “I’m part of the event management. I’m allowed to bring a guest. Especially if that guest is you,” she adds, a little teasingly.

“Why me?”

He’s making her work for it. It’s exasperating and arousing in equal measure. “Why not?” She pauses. “Maybe I’ve missed you. We didn’t really get to… talk, during the New Year’s Eve party.”

“No, we didn’t.” Finally, after a few moments, he exhales. “I need to check with my manager. I’ll let you know.”

“Alright. See you around, Chim.”

Sooah’s not wholly startled at his response, and neither is she surprised when he responds later that night with Okay. When she responds with an emoji, he simply replies asking her to text him the address. It’s curt and short, but it’s also Jimin. Be it three weeks or three years, Sooah knows how to handle him.

On the day of the event, Sooah doesn’t text him except once in the morning when she tells him to wear something dark. Jimin arrives at the hotel, taking in the classy decor in the ballroom and making note of all the guests in their finery, unable to see anything that really sticks out to him. 

He pretends not to notice her, at first, choosing instead to accept a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. It’s no matter that he’s seen her, checked her out and already admired her as she bustles around, her heels clacking along the floor as she speaks to technicians, waiters and other people from her event management company. She’s wearing red again; the thin blouse curves teasingly over her breasts, professional yet so sexy, and the black pencil skirt hugs her hips and backside so perfectly that he feels like he could scream.

When they finally lock eyes across the room, he anticipates it a fraction of a second before it happens. She smiles, and he’s blinded. His heart is still stuttering as she makes her way over to him, a Blackberry in one hand, her hair soft in waves down her shoulders. His eyes flicker around the room, wondering if everyone else is noticing her, too, walking across the ballroom, resplendent in red.

Her eyes are on him only, though. “Glad you could make it,” she says, sounding genuine. 

“Of course. How could I not?” He makes a show of looking her up and down. “You look good.”

“So do you.”

Jimin knows - or he knew - but it makes his chest swell, irrespective. “You don’t have a drink?”

“I’m working,” she points out. “Technically.” She gives him a small smile, as though sharing a secret. He bites his lip and innocently offers her his own champagne glass, watching in mild amusement as she accepts it and downs it, not breaking eye contact for even a moment.

“This isn’t your usual kind of party,” he comments, looking around with his hands in his pockets. “Too…”

“Classy?” She laughs, nodding. “You’re right. There’s no keg and hooking up in a powder room just feels… cheap.”

“As opposed to the bathroom at Hard Rock Cafe?”

Sooah chuckles again, and he notices her gaze flicker to his mouth. “For a first time tryst, some five years ago,” she says softly, leaning up slightly, “it was pretty epic.”

Jimin can hardly disagree, but he says nothing, hoping the suppressed smile will speak for itself. She leaves after that, citing some issue with the guest list. He watches her walk away and immediately looks for another drink, knowing he should start socialising soon or this night is sure to become all about Kim Sooah again.

He tries, in earnest; he’s been getting better at working a room, and as Sooah had predicted, his presence does cause somewhat of a stir at the event. If anything, he’s in his element tonight: dressed head to toe in designer wear, having a good hair day, meeting other young artists and producers, all of whom seem to know him.

An hour in, he’s feeling far more confident than he has any right to. Aside from one aspiring producer who only referred to herself as Chanel, he’s almost completely sure that every other female artist his age he’s met so far has flirted with him, even if it is just for fun. Part of his attention is on Sooah, naturally, for he is her date, but she’s working, looking pretty and capable and everything he just knew Kim Sooah was always was.

Still, the fact that they’re here, together, isn’t lost on either of them. Every time he catches her looking at him, gaze fixated on his lower half, he’s thankful all over again that he decided to wear leather pants tonight. They brush past each other, find a few minutes between work and guests where they share a drink and exchange a few flirty words, find each other’s eyes from across the room until Jimin is certain, finally, that Sooah extending this invite wasn’t just out of the goodness of her heart.

His theory is proven right when, less than thirty minutes later, they’re in one of the spare hotel rooms booked by the company for storage, undressing each other with a chaotic desperation. They don’t even really make it inside the room; the hallway right next to the closed door is enough, the only light emanating from underneath the bathroom door.

“They’ll wonder where I am,” murmurs Sooah breathlessly, as she pulls the jacket off his shoulders with force, simultaneously trying to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“They’ll survive without you,” he mutters, pushing her back against the wall and swallowing her gasp with a kiss. He tugs her tight skirt up her thighs, running his fingers along her smooth skin and grabbing the flesh until they break apart for breath. “I won’t.”

Sooah nods, her eyes fluttering shut as he kisses her neck, lips moving open-mouthed against her skin while his hands feel for her underwear, slipping his hand under the hem on her arse and groaning when he squeezes it. Her fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt, feeling his toned torso with such familiarity, such authority, that Jimin feels his erection strain painfully against his trousers.

He kisses her again, hard and deep, pulling her hips to his and pressing his fingers at her wetness through her underwear. She moans helplessly against his mouth, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer when he gives up and moves the underwear aside, feeling her soaked pussy. His other hand comes up to her chest, squeezing her breast through the thin, red blouse he’s been admiring all night.

Sooah reaches behind her with one hand and struggles with something; Jimin immediately searches for her hand, his fingers finding a zipper that he tugs on harshly, feeling the blouse loosen around her shoulders and bringing her full, fleshy breasts into view. 

“Oh, fuck, Jimin, right there,” she murmurs against his mouth, pulling the sleeves of her blouse down her arms as he rubs her clit, the other hand squeezing her breast between them, her nipple hard against his fingers. “You know what, just - just take it off,” she says, barely pulling away before she begins undoing the buttons of his pants. “I want you now.”

Jimin obliges, tugging her underwear down her legs as she squeezes his arse over his pants once before pulling the zipper down and palming his full erection through his briefs. He kisses her again, running his fingers over her uncovered pussy and feeling a desperate sort of urge to enter her right then. His lips move to her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, her hair getting messier and his shirt getting crumpled with each second.

“Chim,” she whispers, “the condom’s in your pocket.” Her hands feel for his back pocket, the slight indent of the square packet against his toned backside. 

“Yeah,” he grunts, taking the hint and bringing it out, just as she snatches it from his hand. Kneeling before him, she lowers his pants and underwear, revealing his hard, pink cock, already wet at the tip. 

“Fuck, Jimin,” she murmurs, wrapping her fingers around him and momentarily stroking him, looking up at him as she licks her lips. Jimin’s gasps, falling forward and bringing his hand up against the wall. Her touch feels like silk and as she gently peels the condom over his cock, he feels himself just wanting to be inside her.

The moment she stands up, he wraps his arm around her waist and hitches her up, his heart leaping at her gasp. Her hands automatically clutch his shoulders, his shirt half-unbuttoned and falling open on one side. With her skirt bunched up around her hips, he feels for her pussy, wet and ready just for him and aligns himself at her entrance.

“Sure you can keep me up, Chim?” Kim Sooah asks softly, running a hand almost tenderly through his hair when he looks up at her.

Fuck, yes. “As long as you want,” he answers, kissing her once more before entering her, groaning as he feels her warm, wet walls squeeze him.

“Oh, you feel so good, baby…” Sooah’s voice, soft and breathy, spurs him on. He pushes into her, hoping he isn’t hurting before he increases his speed, hearing her moans sync with his thrusts as he fucks her into the wall. Every thrust is one step closer to making her cum, her eyes closed and her mouth open as she holds him close, her breasts threatening to spill out of her bra, and Jimin reaching his limit.

They finish at almost the same time, their whines and whimpers echoing in the fancy hotel room they never even made it more than a few steps into. Gasping for air, their hearts racing, they kiss messily before Sooah hops down and winces when he pulls out. 

Jimin leaves first; his crumpled shirt is mostly covered by his jacket, and his hair doesn’t take more than his fingers running through them a couple of times to look like perfection again, falling dark blond onto his forehead. Sooah smiles awkwardly as he kisses her on the cheek before leaving, her legs still somewhat shaky as she straightens her clothes. Her skirt definitely looks crushed, but being black, she hopes no one will notice much. Her top is okay, but her hair looks like a bird’s nest, disheveled to the point where anyone who sees her will be sure to suspect what she’s been up to.

Sooah re-enters the ballroom a few minutes later, nervously fingering the end of her high ponytail, her eventual solution to the messy hair. The event is fortunately in full swing now, which means she has to get back to work and can’t spare too much thought to what just transpired. She looks around briefly for Jimin, though; after a few minutes, she spots him with a group of three other people, all of them looking just as shiny and fancy as him, chatting and laughing over glasses of champagne.

Her heart skips a beat at his sparkling smile, gorgeous and open. He’s always been great with people, so it doesn’t surprise her when she sees him similarly all night, talking to various people, casually graceful. It’s good; it’s part of why she invited him, but it doesn’t explain the small, hollow feeling in her chest that flickers uncomfortably when  she discusses cab availability with the hotel manager and Jimin mingles with rich, beautiful, famous guests at the party.

“Are you okay?”

Sooah nods belatedly, falling into step beside him as they walk into her building. The moment they’re inside, away from the cold, she breathes a silent sigh of relief and sees Jimin do the same, his shoulders relaxing. The walk in relative silence up the stairs to her apartment, stopping in front of her door.

Jimin leans sideways against the wall, smiling down at her. His hands are in his pocket, and she can spot the slight influence of alcohol swimming in his eyes. “It was a really nice event,” he says. “Very classy.”

“Thanks,” she says genuinely, a small smile playing at her lips that fades quickly. She looks down at her feet, wondering all of a sudden why she feels so tired, why her chest feels so heavy.

“You should plan the next farmhouse party, too,” he suggests, his tone teasing. “I could do with some champagne over the cheap vodka.”

Despite everything, Sooah returns his playful smile. “I’ve never seen you reject the cheap vodka before.”

“I can make do with the vodka. I just prefer the champagne.”

The harmless statement, said so casually and with such ease, makes her heart lurch. She hates everything about the event, even though Jimin just complimented it, even though her own boss texted her on her way back home, congratulating her on its success. Everything about it, its class, its finery, its shiny, golden aura - all of it makes her want to throw up.

She looks up at him, about to respond, when she sees it again. Without thinking, she reaches forward to move the collar of shirt away from his neck, the red spot now a purple hickey, raw and unmistakable. Jimin turns to look at it before facing her again, smirking silently.

It’s not like her to not make a joke about it, possibly a flirty one, one he’d return with just the right amount of teasing and sincerity. But all she can think about is the first time she spotted the hickey an hour ago, when she was standing by the bar and he’d been talking to a female guest by the french doors. 

It had been just a red spot then, barely visible from the distance but she could recognise her own handiwork, even from here. His tinkling laugh could be heard all the way at the bar while his companion, her back to Sooah, stood long-legged and elegant, a glass of champagne in her hand. Her gold minidress had suddenly made Sooah feel thoroughly inadequate in her red blouse and black skirt. Like cheap vodka.

“Are you okay?”

It’s the second time he’s asked, and this time he looks a bit concerned. Sooah nods. “Just tired.”

“You should get some sleep.”

She nods again, slower this time. The sight of the hickey sends a defiant kind of pride in her, one she knows she shouldn’t be feeling. She’d felt it earlier tonight, too, when she’d watched him blend into the crowd like it was nothing. He belonged tonight, a celebrity among celebrities.

We aren’t in the same circles anymore.

The words send an old, long-buried pang through her, and she speaks without thinking.

“Do you want to do this?”

It’s only after she says it that she realises Jimin was about to say something. He raises his eyebrows.

“Do what?”

Sooah takes a deep breath, knowing somewhere in the jumble of her mind that this is the way to go, the path of least consequences. “Do you want to… do what we’ve been doing the last couple of months? But without the awkwardness?” she adds, forcing herself to roll her eyes.

Jimin pauses. “Tiptoeing around each other?” he asks lightly.

“Hooking up. Having sex.” She’s being blunt, she knows, but this isn’t the time to be coy. She needs to cement this before she changes her mind.

“Oh.” He looks slightly taken off guard, but recovers quickly. “So… like, we call each other when we want to… have sex?” He doesn’t look too convinced.

“Yeah. Or we text.” She shrugs. “We do what we’ve been doing, basically. This is just so we’re clear, about - about everything.”

Jimin nods slowly, the understanding visible on his face. “What are we clear about?”

“That it’s just sex,” she says, swallowing. “That we call - or text - when we feel like it, and if we’re free… we get together.”

“Just for sex,” he clarifies. “No drinks, even.”

“With discretion,” she allows. “No dinner.”

“No lunch.”

“No cute flirting.”

“Only sexy flirting.”

Sooah bites her lip, wondering how on earth he can still make her heart skip a beat. “That’s right. No staying over.”

“No cuddling.” Jimin nods, clapping his hands. “It’s set.”

There’s something different in his expression; Sooah can’t put her finger on it. She can’t tell if it’s relief or something else. It probably is relief; he’s got a steady source of action whenever he’s not on tour, and she’s at least one step towards not getting her heart broken again. It’s a win-win.

“Thanks for walking me home,” she says softly. “You didn’t have to.”

Jimin’s eyes flicker. “My dad taught me to always walk a lady to her door.”

This time, Sooah does smile, for it’s her favourite memory of their first date. Resisting the urge to step closer to him or to take his hand - to do something - she places her hand on the doorknob, her keys ready in her other hand. “Goodnight, Park Jimin.”

“Goodnight, Kim Sooah.” He makes a motion and hesitates before leaning over and pressing a light kiss to her cheek, almost defiantly. “Sleep well.”

Sooah nods silently, turning around to watch him walk away. Despite herself, her gaze falls momentarily to his hips, snug in the leather pants, before she shakes her head, wondering if she’s done the right thing.

~

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[41nyl]

— KTH FIC RECS (m.)

tw; dubcon/noncon, stalking, horror, explicit content.

notes; i really wish there were more yandere! kth fics on here bc he's just so literature old money van gogh art obsession dead poets society ldr ultraviolence album romanticism era coded and a perfect muse, but here are my top favs;

@pheresphone this is for you!

—𐙚

poison apple @jooniyah

— series; moneylender au.

socialite families. mc's marriage with myg spirals downward when the latter is indebted to kth. a myriad of dark turns force mc into a marriage with her husband's killer.

beastly gods @lemonjoonah

— series; hydrid au.

for three generations, people religiously stop themselves from venturing outside their village. curious about the life beyond, mc befriends the wrong company who she thinks will help her cross the border. naivety costs her hopes of freedom, earns the village's beastly deities their most prized possession: her.

cut @deepdarkdelights

— oneshot; moviestar au.

noob actress mc is excited to get casted with a phenomenal moviestar for her first big film project. things take a turn when she realises the script is eerily similar to her experiences. overnight success is a scam, or comes with a price.

the good boy @jkeuphoriadreamland

— series; netflix series 'you' au.

mc falls for the cute librarian faster than she picks books to borrow. what she doesn't realise: looks can be deceptive.

covet @bang-tan-bitches

— oneshot; yandere!idol!kth (ft. pjm)

coworker takes mc to a meal with her boyfriend and his bestfriend. things take an eerie turn when they set their sights on her.

polar night @amoc94

— series; mafia x ballerina au.

ballerina mc struggles with the image of perfection. she aches to be loved by the boy who stole her innocence, blissfully unaware that she's the object of desire for a deranged, powerful man.

feel free to recommend ur fav yandere!kth fics in notes/asks/DMs! 𐙚

[writtenwhalien]

a lover's redemption (pjm) | masterlist

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ in progress

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, all sorts of crime (including: drug and arms trade, embezzlement, mentions of kidnapping and attempted kidnapping), frequent use of guns and knives, gore (non-descriptive), mild injuries to multiple characters including reader, death (descriptive).

teaser

i. prologue

chapter 1. way down we go

chapter 2. before the storm

chapter 3. the new normal

chapter 4. through the cracks

future chapters to be updated here

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart’s Home (m) | pjm | masterlist

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

You’d never thought you’d step foot back at the ranch– a place you used to call home a long time ago. When you are forced to go back, reconcile with your sister and a certain childhood friend that you had long forgotten, will sparks reunite?

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (main) and jungkook x reader (one time). There’s other pairings throughout the story, but those aren’t with the reader, but between the other characters— there’s one mxm relationship but it’s very minor. → Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. → AUs: ranch!au, slice of life!au, cowboy!au, soulmate!au → Genres: smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst (yes, it’s got everything lol!) → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact! → Total word count: 237.6k (I’m so fucking sorry 😭) → Warnings/tags: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain sexual themes, smut and a lot of sexual tension. → Status: completed → Author’s note: this series is heavily inspired by the TV show McLeod’s Daughters. Some plot points will feel familiar, while others won’t (because I don’t follow that story structure to a tee). But If you love that show that I do, I’m 100% sure you’ll love this story too! Also, I don’t expect people to really be interested in this… this is more of a story about coming home, finding home, finding love and such… and I don’t know if you want to read that sort of thing? But I fucking love it! ✨ → Read on AO3? [link]

→ Chapter 1: Inheritance → Chapter 2: It’s a long road  → Chapter 3: Sometimes  → Chapter 4: It comes to this  → Chapter 5: Our home, our place  → Chapter 6: Wild horses  → Chapter 7: We got it wrong  → Chapter 8: Love you, hate you  → Chapter 9: Take the rain away  → Chapter 10: The first touch  → Chapter 11: This perfect day  → Chapter 12: Broken dreams  → Chapter 13: Love Letter  → Chapter 14: I wish the past was different  → Chapter 15: Did I tell you? → Chapter 16: The stranger  → Chapter 17: Love of Your Life  → Chapter 18: By my side  → Chapter 19: Home  → Chapter 20: My Heart’s Home (Epilogue)

→ Requested series taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @fancypeacepersona, @ktownshizzle, @pjmxxjm, @ajoonniice, @kookiewithluv, @mikrokookiex, @rapmonjoon94, @parkitrighthere

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[moonchild1]

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅹ)

yup i've hit you with another list and once again i had so much fun putting it together... i was away for a bit but that spark came back and i'm back in action... this list holds so many amazing fics i've read it's alot of different types of storylines and some new genres i wanted to try out and i am so excited to go down that road with these new genres i haven't explored yet, but please do enjoy this list there's so many great fics here you will get lost in it i know it did, my next list should be out by next month i want to take time to read as many as i can and get back all that excitement so the next one might take a while... since these fics are so outstanding we can't forget to give all the love and support to the incredible authors who have taken the time to plan and write these fics without them we wouldn't get to read such beautiful and entertaining fics so please so them all the love and support in the world cause they truly deserve it leave them a nice comment, like and reblog the posts so others can discover them too and give them a follow and check out their masterlists i'm telling you, you will most definitely fall in love with their work and find lots of great pieces in there. most of the fics i recommend contain smut so no minors allowed and don't interact you as well as ageless blgs will be blocked and if you would like to share a fic with me you are more than welcome too i love hearing from you i hope you all enjoy this list and till next time ~ kiki ♡

f- fluff s- smut a-angst

series

between takes by @jeonstudios f s a

as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard.

i want you to stay by @ahundredtimesover f s a

Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

you're losing me by @sparklingchim s a

in the midst of marital challenges, jungkook and you grapple with the complexities of your relationship. yet, the lingering question whispers: how do you truly determine if the journey is worthwhile?

kiss the girl by @guked f s a

after saving a human prince from being drowned by the sea witch, you’re cursed by that infamous witch to live out the rest of your days as a human—unless you can manage to get true love’s kiss from that very same prince. which would be a simple task, had he not hated you the moment you met.

flux by @yoonia s a ft. myg

One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. poly au

in motion by @/yoonia s

The rule is simple; you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times since you’ve encountered the voyeurism club, but it was only when a certain boy arrives on one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside.

what the fire gave us by @gimmethatagustd f s a

↬ You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

friend in me by @ktheist f s a

“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.”

knife's edge by @readyplayerhobi f s a ft. pjm

The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

take a chance by @crystaljins a

You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

chess of ice by @jimlingss f a

Jeon Jungkook is a rising star, aka. hockey captain of a team heading for the Olympics. The last thing he expects is to begin a whole ‘nother sport, holding a broomstick in his hand, sweeping the ice and throwing dumb stones towards a target. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his love life is about to turn into a game of chess as well....and you’re his opponent.

diamond in the rough by @kimvtae f s a

When a business heir from Busan, Jeon Jungkook, meets you, a poor girl from Daegu, he doesn’t expect to fall as quickly as he does. He’s been told for his entire life to avoid Daegu, a town riddled with gangs and a history of a brutal murder in Busan, but he can’t stay away from you, even when he’s warned that you’re not good enough for him.

try hard by @hobibliophile f s

Yoongi asks you to help him photograph the university rugby team, and you’re reluctant until you see Jeon Jungkook in uniform. Damn.

cruel intentions by @jeonqukie f s a

All is well in your overtly simplistic life. You managed to maintain decent grades in university all the while progressing through your relationship with your long-time boyfriend and accompanying your best friend in her exhausting personal life. But as the saying goes when there are ups, there will surely be downs. While you’ve maintained this upward pattern, you are defeated when one afternoon inevitably brings you to a downward spiral. All good things must come to an end. Who knew you would be sharing the same sentiment with someone you barely know.

sillage by @deerguk s

Soulmate!AU where soulmates are drawn to one another by the infliction of physical touch, whether it be pain or pleasure. But it is only initiated once the two people somewhat interact.

remote learning by @hansolmates s

working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two.

when it rains by @choiwrites s a

Being an exotic dancer was never easy. Every day was the same for you, until you reached that one breaking point you’ve been avoiding since your miserable life started. On a rainy night, Jungkook and his yellow umbrella were your last call of hope.

hate at first weeb by artaemis, freckleyoon (ao3)

You just want to weeb in peace but your annoying downstairs neighbour just won't let you breathe

wanted by @jincherie s a

You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.  

everything in you by @jjungkookislife f s a

You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help. f2l, roommates au, pregnant!reader

home for the holidays by @/jjungkookislife f s a

Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad. You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.

every breath you take by @junqkook s a

everything was going great when you first met jeon jungkook. he was a new light in your life with soft smiles and tinkling laughs; but then you noticed a lurking presence that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

navy by @jjkfire f a

He’s your best friend, practically your other half and the two of you have always promised to be there for each other no matter what. The both of you have dreams of professionally making music together one day and to you it’s almost like reality, a given really, and with each day, the dream starts to feel like it’s within reach. But, one day, with one sentence, Jungkook destroys it all.

wicked by @adonis-koo s a

In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

paper doll by @winetae s a

When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed — it was you.

one shot

the devil's change up by @jungblue f s

Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better. 

this is how we break up by @/ahundredtimesover s a

There are things you prepared for coming back home and that includes seeing your ex-boyfriend, but helping him design his apartment isn’t one of them. From meetings over coffee and lunches with your friends, you both learn more about the time in-between, and what you find out leave you heartbroken, wondering if there’s enough of you left to try to get back what you’d lost. “You know what they say about past lovers remaining friends? It’s either they never loved each other to begin with, or they still do. And we all know how much they loved each other, don’t we?”

a piece of the moonlight by @/jimlingss f a

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

the quest to bedding the lead singer of frontman by @kpopfanfictrash s

Frontman is your favorite band in the world and honestly, the only reason you waited this long in line is to stand at the front for a shot with the lead singer. Enter sexy sound boy, who just won’t leave you alone. (punk!Jungkook)

heartbreak trials by @dreamyjoons s a

it all started with a bet: the one with the highest body count would get the most illustrious prize - Namjoon’s bedroom. For you and Jungkook, the race was on.

perhaps love by @mangowillow f a

for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

what? now by @theharrowing f s

For as long as you and Jungkook have been friends, your feelings for him have been unrequited. Or have they?

lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks f a

the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

tell me no lies by @jeongi f s a

You chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him.

mcd*ckin by @jinned s

"So, if I'm so predictable," you tease, running your finger along his clothed chest, "what am I going to do next?"

things you said while you were driving by @cupofteaguk f

post breakup au

(y)our name by @jjkpls f s a ft ot 6

It’s always been the two of you since you were little. People came and went in your lives and Jungkook didn’t mind until you turn into grown-ups and he starts to mind a bit too much.

(un)welcomed addition by @shuadotcom f a

After a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind...unless your feelings get in the way of course.

Just Like the Movies by @/shuadotcom f s a

When you need a fake date for your cousin’s wedding and all of your other friends have plans, that only leaves your best friend Jungkook - who you also happen to be completely in love with. It’ll be easy getting through a week of fake dating him, right?

watermelon sugar by @/shuadotcom f s a

When your friends outvote you for your annual summer trip, you end up stuck at a beachside town. To make it worse, there’s an irritating local surfer boy that won’t leave you alone… that is until you see him shirtless and in the water - then you don’t want him to leave you alone and your unexpected summer romance begins.

take my whole life by @/ktheist f s a

chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.

never let you go by @yeojaa f s

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t. (or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

speaking in bodies by @/yeojaa f s a

The holidays have never meant much to you - less a promise of Christmas morning joy and more a reminder of all the things you’ve lost.  Some would call you a grinch; others, just a plain old asshole.  Jeon Jungkook would call you both.  The more time you spend together, though, the more you thaw, melting beneath the sun that seems to sit right in the centre of his chest.

howling for you by @fortunexkookie f s

The way your Little Red Riding Hood costume lured over a fuckboy in a half-assed werewolf costume was a little cliche, but god damn was he beautiful. He promised he had plenty of big things to show you, and you took him up on the offer, not realizing that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew

cold nights & blurred lines by @awrkive f s a

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

christmas is waiting for you by @/lamourche f s ft myg (ao3)

Being home for the holidays surrounded by your well-meaning family isn’t that bad. All you have to do is (1) survive the Andersons’ annual Christmas Eve party, (2) avoid all questions about your job, and (3) avoid your high school nemesis (not a crush!), Jeon Jungkook.

lost stars by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Falling in love with Jeon Jungkook was everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but maybe it was exactly that: a dream so blissful and comforting that it was too good to be true, something that could all disappear when the night changes to day, and your eyes open again. Or, making a marriage pact with your best friend was supposed to instill a sense of hope for you, so why does this hurt you more than it should?

a beautiful epiphany by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Derailed by heartbreak and the loss of inspiration, Jeon Jungkook tries to rediscover his love for art again. As his best friend, you’re willing to do anything to help him reignite his lost passion. Little do you know that the struggling artist’s new muse is closer than you think.

the philosophy of goodluck by @kidguk f s

“you told me i looked good and that you needed to get a tattoo of my face” is not the explanation you wanted to hear from the tattoo artist that permanently etched the dumbest drunken request of your life onto your skin.

mountebank by @/kidguk f s ft. pjm

Soulmate AU featuring Jimin, in which you’ve been waking up next to your soul-enemy and running from your soul-mate. Figure that mess out, will you? 

holidays of breads and wood by @cutaepatootie f a

Every December now smells like freshly baked bread and wood to you. Its cold wind brings you memories of him every morning as you are kneading your mixture of water, flour and a pinch of nutmeg – the secret ingredient that makes your bread taste so special. It seeps through the open window of your small kitchen and shakes your entire body. It seeps under your flour-stained apron, getting through your clothes and reminding you of his soft touch. It sounds like forest and shines like snow under the sunlight. It fills your nostrils with familiar scents. Every December now feels like distant memories of a man you once knew, who loved to carve his dreams in wood.

a fallen bookmark on a thursday afternoon by @/cutaepatootie f s a

He came to you like the air comes into the train station after the fast arriving of the machine. It comes fast and unexpected, making you hoist your head to look at the long vehicle and the people inside. It is so fast you can’t even distinguish the different wagons. As the train comes to a stop, the wind that it creates plays with your hair, leaving you breathless. That’s how Jeon Jungkook came into your life.

every kind of way by @gukslut s

Three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK

heavy lifting by @snackhobi f

you work the night shift in a supermarket. and now your crush, aka the cutest boy in the world, aka the guy you’ve been thirsting after for months, aka jeon jungkook, works the night shift too.

blue orchid by @inkedtae f a

hanahaki & soulmate au

up to snow good by @aredheadedmess f a

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

cherry bomb by @milfgyuu f s

You’re a cocktail waitress in a high end nightclub and you’ve been mutually crushing on one of the bartenders. Tonight, one of your customers oversteps boundaries and when Jungkook gets involved, you’re ready to toss your ‘no dating co-workers’ policy out the window. 

work it out by @/choiwrites s

You never would have thought that you’d be working with the college dropout who was coincidentally your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Saying his name already burns your tongue, you wonder how long you can hold your professionalism around him.

all in by @iamjungkooked s a

Jeon Jungkook is everything you have ever desired in a partner. He’s kind, passionate, funny, honest, warm and every positive adjective in the dictionary. He totally gets you and you get him. He seems like the perfect guy for you, except he is dating your best friend. What could possibly go wrong?  OR  The four times you get the wind knocked out of you by Jeon Jeongguk

until my last breath by @/iamjungkooked s a

Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect. (Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

está dañada by @aquagustd f s a

life through the eyes of someone who watches you fall apart and helps gather the shards of your heart, only for you to make the same mistake time and time again, but he refuses to accept the truth because to him, you’re infallible.

coin toss by @yoondoze a

you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

wonder by @bubmyg f a

romance novels lie about finding some deep epiphany in the ocean because you find your inspiration in some chlorine tainted red locks or where jeongguk isn’t smooth with a pool net. 

starboy by @sugaxjpg s

Jeon Jungkook was, above anything else, the type you should not get involved with. He was the guy who slept around; the guy who was gone before you woke up; who left a path of broken hearts and missed calls wherever he went. He was right in just about every wrong way. That being said, maybe the bet you made with your friend could be the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and even enough to break the chain of misfortune that circled your party nights — after all, it was all just a simple, four-part plan to make Jungkook beg for you. What could possibly go wrong?

symmetry by @adriftmoonchild s a

with both of you being from rival houses, the smirk that jungkook seemed to throw in your direction every shared class did nothing for your disdain towards him. as far as you were concerned he was arrogant and childish; you just wished he wasn’t so damn good in bed.

little surfer girl by @ppersonna f s a

every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer.  every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

[star-my]

Vixen ~ Three (Final)

➼ Pairing: Jimin x OC (Shin Ara)

➼ Length: 6k

➼ Rating: pg-15

➼ Content: Arranged Marriage AU, CEO AU, Mafia AU | TW: Vague Threats of Violence; Kidnapping; Non-Graphic Violence (Fight Scene); Minor Discussion of Human Trafficking (not by BTS/SKZ members)| Ara and JK are so sibling-coded; Jimin ships Vixen and JK

➼ Thanks to @moonleeai for betaing! I had this posted at noon and closed tumblr but when I came back now somehow it disappeared into the cloud?? I'm so annoyed ;-;

➼ Taglist: @bangtan-famiglia-net@kookthief@otome-wandering@sarcasticbambi

➼ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in no way represents any member of BTS, SKZ, or any other K-pop group mentioned in any way beyond the face and name claims the author made for this work.

➼ Chapter 1 (13/10/23) ➼ Chapter 2 (14/10/23) ➼ Ao3 ➼ Masterlist

ARA, AGE 25, (PRESENT DAY)

A hand flopped around on the wooden table, finally locating the device making that infernal racket far too early in the morning.

“It’s too early for this,” Ara groaned, sliding the call button on her phone. “Yeoboseyo?”

“Princess? It’s Jimin. Sorry if I woke you…” Ara heard a sharp inhale as her husband realised the time. Still, he pressed on. “Um…you know how Park Wonshik adopted me after I was kidnapped?”

“Ye-ah,” she replied slowly, trying to figure out what was going on. Why was he sounding so awake after helping her break up the trafficking ring early this morning? He probably hadn’t slept yet, she realized. Hence, his too-early call.

“So, the police broke up this ring last night and saved a bunch of kids. They called me and asked if I’d mind talking to them, tell them that things are gonna be okay, y’know?”

Ara made some sort of agreeing noise, heading to the bathroom to gargle some mouthwash and maybe comb her hair and hope that putting her hair in order would simultaneously put her brain cells in order.

“So…one of my dad’s old friends was there and suggested maybe…we could foster one or two of the kids who are in need of a home until they get all the paperwork sorted out. A couple of the kids agreed to testify, so they’ll also need to stay close until the trials are over. What do you think? We have really good security, so they won’t need to worry about a repeat kidnapping, and I know we’ve got space and love. You mentioned wanting to help trafficking victims when I was telling you about my childhood…but…”

The longer her silence stretched out, the more Jimin rambled. He was so cute.

“Yeah, that sounds like a great, practical way to help,” Ara agreed after spitting her mouthwash out. “Just let me know how many you kids you drag back so I know how many rooms to get ready.”

“Thank you, jagiya.” Muffled conversation crackled through the line as Jimin paused to speak with an officer. “Sorry, I have to go. I’ll call later, alright?”

“Okay. Love you!”

“Love you!”

Ara put her phone down on the counter and stared at her reflection in the mirror. 

~~~

At 2:33 PM, Jimin arrived home with an eleven-year-old girl in tow. The police officer and Child & Family Services officer quickly checked the premises and living situation, then left, leaving Jimin, Ara, and the girl.

Ara smiled, crouching down to her height. “Hi, I’m Shin Ara. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello, Mrs. Shin. My name is Kim Nabi,” Nabi bowed politely. “It is nice to meet you as well. Thank you for letting me live with you.”

Her shiny hair teased the tops of her shoulders as she moved. 

“I’ll show you to your room, then,” said Ara, motioning at the stairs. “I know you saw it already during the tour, but you can get settled now. My room is right across the hall, so my bodyguard will be close by if you feel unsafe. Have you met Jungkook yet?”

Nabi shook her head, then gave a small smile full of delight as she really took in her room.

Ara and Jimin’s gazes met as they exchanged smiles at her satisfaction.

The walls were a pale periwinkle reflected in the pale blue duvet, the trim white to contrast the wood furniture.

“I hope you like it,” joked Ara. “There are a couple of outfits in the closet, but I thought maybe you’d like to go shopping for some things your own style while you’re here. Jungkook and I will take you whenever you’re ready.”

Ara pulled the stuffed rabbit from the top shelf of the closet and held it out to Nabi. “I thought you might like a friend to talk to while you decide if you want to talk to me or someone else about what happened. I’ve told quite a few secrets to Cookie here, and he’s kept them all remarkably well. He also gives a pretty nice hug,” she smiled conspiratorially.

“Thank you very much, Mrs Shin, Mr Park,” Nabi bowed again.

“You’re welcome, Nabi. I know things have been tough, but you’re a very brave girl,” said Jimin. “We want you to feel safe and at home here. I remember how I felt after I was brought here by my adoptive father. If you want to scream, cry, maybe hit a couple of things, go for a run– whatever you’re feeling, we’re here for you.”

“Thank you,” Nabi said again.

Jimin kissed Ara’s cheek goodbye and left to finish his assistance at the police station.

Ara looked at Nabi, laid a soft hand on her shoulder, and said, “I think you’d like to be alone right now to settle in, but if you want company, my room is across the hall, and the door’s open. If you need anything, just walk in or give me a shout, ‘kay?”

Nabi nodded, and Ara crossed the hall to call Jungkook and explain the situation.

~~~

Ara softly knocked on Nabi’s door for the third time. When there was still no response, she twisted the knob and peered in.

Nabi was sound asleep in her bed, hugging Cookie tightly to her chest.

“Nabi, it’s ten to seven. Jimin-ssi will be home any minute, and supper will be ready. I’m sure you’re pretty hungry by now. Jungkook wants to meet you, too, so can you wake up and get up by seven?” As Ara talked soothingly, Nabi stirred and gradually opened her eyes. Ara opened the door a little wider to let the hallway light shine in, as Nabi had drawn her blackout drapes.

“Hello, Ara-unnie. I’m up now.” Nabi yawned and stretched, then slid off the bed.

“Did you have a good nap? I hope you’ll sleep tonight!” Ara stepped just outside the doorway so she wouldn’t stifle Nabi, who yawned again.

“Yes, I slept well, thank you.”

The two headed to the top of the stairs, where Jungkook awaited. 

“Nabi, this is my bodyguard and best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook, this young lady is Kim Nabi.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Nabi,” Jungkook’s bunny smile shone through as he grinned at the girl.

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you as well, Jungkook-oppa.”

Jungkook grinned even wider at Ara. “I’m her oppa already!”

Ara punched his shoulder gently. “Don’t let it go to your head; I told her she could call us that.”

The foyer door opened, signalling Jimin’s return home. He headed to the powder room to wash up, then joined the little group in the living room, brushing a kiss to Ara’s cheek on his way in.

Jungkook pretended to gag, wincing as Ara pinched his arm.

Nabi was quiet during dinner, her gaze bouncing between the three adults talking and laughing around her but not volunteering much. They drew her in when they could, but weren’t surprised that she didn’t immediately become a chatterbox. She’d been through a lot and was probably still deciding how much she could trust them. 

Ara did manage to get her to commit to going clothes shopping the next day, but that was it.

A large yawn cracked Nabi’s face as Jimin asked Jungkook to see him in his office after supper, so Ara said goodnight to the men and followed Nabi upstairs, just in case she forgot where something was or needed help.

Two nights later, Jimin was back at Vixen’s HQ, meeting with the woman herself. He’d showed up unexpectedly, interrupting her spar with Hyunjin, so she wasn’t in full Vixen gear like all the previous times he’d met her.

She’d donned the mask, but her hair was free, a neat brown-black braid falling down her back, a few wisps curled to her sweaty face and neck. 

“If you tell anyone you’ve seen more of me than my lieutenants, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to break our agreement,” she waved a finger at him.

“I won’t,” promised Jimin. More of her meant arms and feet, since she was only in a black tank top and workout leggings, her jacket having been tossed aside as she heated up.

Jimin noted interestedly that the gold eyes and red mouth was an indispensable part of Vixen’s persona, as they were still visible.

(As two of her most notable character marks, Ara made sure the lipstick and contacts were first in and last out when she switched between Ara and Vixen. He’d just proved her point—though he didn’t know it—that you should always be prepared for the unexpected; you never know when someone would drop in, either ally or foe.)

“So, you took care of the three men?” she asked.

Jimin nodded. “JK and I made sure they won’t be trafficking in the future…or committing any other crimes.”

She nodded approvingly. “Good.”

The tones of Vixen’s cell phone rang and she bent over, fishing the phone out of her pocket. Answering it, she turned around but didn’t move away; Jimin eavesdropped as best he could. “Vixen.”

There was a pause as her contact spoke.

“What? Stall him! Flag him down and tell him I have a visitor! Engage blade if necessary.” With an aggravated sigh, Vixen ended the call and pinched her nose, muttering something about stupid training, then turned with a smile that was clearly false.

“I’m going to need a minute, would you mind waiting in another room?”

Jimin complied, following her to a small room that reminded him of a cabin. She pointed to the twin bed and shut the door behind her. Jimin didn’t feel like a captive since there was a window large enough for him to crawl through, and there didn’t appear to be any bars or lasers to stop him from doing so if he wished. But he didn’t wish to; he was here for a reason, afterall.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway as someone came jogging up to Vixen. The tread was heavy, likely male, and the visitor greeted her in a male’s voice.

“Hey Vix, I found out where he keeps the goods- why are you frown- ouch! VIX-mmph!”

That male voice sounded awfully familiar. Jimin frowned.

“Shh! I’m gagging you because he’s. next. door!” hissed Vixen harshly. “If you’d checked outside before you snuck in, you'd have seen his car!”

Jimin strained his ears as the whispers softened and moved down the hallway. However, he’d managed to drop a bug on Vixen’s back as he followed her, so he pulled out his receiver and shamelessly eavesdropped.

“I came over the roofs tonight so I didn’t see. I’m sorry, VIx, that was careless; I should’ve known better. I’ll check 360 degrees next time, yakseokhae.”

That was definitely JK.

“Good. Yeesh, oppa, you almost gave everything away! I had Han ready to rush you with his knife to slow you down!”

Oppa?! Why was Vixen so close to JK?

“Sorry, Vixen. But I found out where he keeps the goods, and I’m getting mine tomorrow, so I need to make sure the others won’t be visible when it’s done.”

…the blacklight tattoos each member got when they were inducted into Bangtan? He’d thought JK was a reliable asset to Bangtan, so he’d invited him to get it. JK was obviously Vixen’s spy in Bangtan, but why?…most of JK’s time was spent on his bodyguarding duties with Ara.

Unless…Vixen was going to take out Ara to hit Bangtan and Grey? But both of them were allied with her, that didn’t make sense. And he knew JK would never hurt or let anyone or anything hurt Ara.

Clearly, more investigation was required.

“When are you going to tell him, anyways, Vix? Hasn’t it been long enough for you to trust him?”

Vixen sighed. “It’s a big secret–half my life. It takes time to open up.”

“I understand. I’ll be there when you’re ready. I’ll leave now…”

Jimin heard JK discover the bug when he hugged Vixen goodbye. 

There was a pause, crackling as the bug was moved, then a dramatic inhale.

“Vix, what’s this?”

“That’s not one of ours…that’s Jimin’s. I thought I felt his fingers on my back, but I didn’t have time to check.” Vixen cursed, and then all that Jimin heard was static as JK crushed the bug under his boot.

The door swung open, JK standing protectively beside Vixen, who crossed her arms and stared at Jimin.

“Fine. You discovered it. Jungkook is my spy in Bangtan. He helped me start Stray Kids, and he’s an honorary member, since he’s technically affiliated with Gray. I’m not plotting anything against you. Happy?” “Why do you care about Bangtan’s tattoos?” Jimin stared back at her.

“Because Stray Kids have blacklight tattoos too, and I didn’t want to out JK’s and my relationship because you picked a spot close to his previous tattoo to add yours. It’s moot now, I guess.”

“Relationship?” He glanced between the two.

“We’re just friends,” they said in unison, then looked at each other. “What he/she said.”

Jimin sighed. Sure. Just friends. Whatever you say.

“Okay, prove it. Do you have a blacklight around?”

Hyunjin entered with the light and JK unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off one shoulder. The Stray Kids symbol glowed blue at the joining of his neck and shoulder. Along his left arm were eight small bands of moon phases, as well.

Vixen held the blacklight to her shoulder, and the vivid blue symbol appeared on the front of her left shoulder, slightly larger and thicker than JK’s. “Happy?”

“Alright, I believe you.” Jimin took the light from her and waved it over his left collarbone, showing Bangtan’s symbol in glowing purple-blue. “You can choose where you put it, but somewhere that allows for easy access is a good choice for easy ID,” he told JK before turning to Vixen. “Bangtan’s tattoos are secret for a reason.”

She nodded companionably. “Same with Stray Kids, hence, blacklight. JK and I won’t say anything.”

JK nodded as Jimin looked at him. “ I won’t say a word, boss.”

“You’re affiliated with three families, JK. Which one are you most loyal to?”

JK swallowed, his big eyes a bit rounder than normal at Jimin’s subtly threatening tone. 

“Yeah, JK, tell me who you’re loyal to,” Vixen buffed her nails against her shirt as she leaned against the doorway, the very picture of nonchalance.

“...I am equally loyal to them. My primary loyalty is to your wife.”

After several tense seconds, Jimin smiled approvingly and patted his shoulder. “Good.”

Vixen nodded at him for his diplomatic answer, then left to continue her spar with Hyunjin.

Jimin and Jungkook rejoined, watching the spar just as VIxen put Hyunjin in an armlock. He tapped out and Jungkook danced into the ring. “Still mad at me for my slip up, Vix?”

“No, we’re good. Foxtrot spar?” She added one of her many code words with him, requesting the use of martial arts plus blades.

Jungkook nodded, and the spar began.

Jimin leaned forward, closely following the pair’s movements. Their sheer grace and long practice of martial arts gave them the facade of a deadly dance, clearly used to practicing together.

Silver flashes gleamed as their knives slashed and parried, tucked away the next second for strikes and kicks.

Finally, JK saw an opening as Vixen slowed from fatigue, her previous spar with Hyunjin lowering her endurance. Caught in a chokehold, Vixen tapped out.

Bowing, the pair ended the spar. Jimin clapped, impressed. “You both fight very well.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison, leaning down to grab a water bottle, opening it, and chugging at the same time.

Jimin rolled his eyes. Totally “just friends”.

Two weeks later, two days before the beginning of the trials, Ara took Nabi to the mall to take her mind off the upcoming event. Nabi now had a varied wardrobe, but Ara was looking for formal dresses for them for a future party..

Nabi had settled in surprisingly quickly, becoming more talkative and outgoing as the days passed, though she was still a quiet child.

She had only been on the street a week since her mom died when she was kidnapped. No one knew who or where her dad was.

Ara had contacted a counsellor for Nabi to see when she was ready to talk about it, and she and Jimin had agreed they’d love to foster with intent to adopt. When Nabi was ready, they’d talk about it. So far, she seemed to love the house, and she often followed Jungkook around like a duckling when he wasn’t with Ara.

Jungkook casually browsed through the men’s section of the formalwear store while he kept an eye on other customers. Ara took Nabi to the womens’ changerooms to try on a couple dresses each. Stepping into the room beside Nabi’s, she froze at the reflection of the man in the mirror with the gun painted at her.

“Follow me quietly and you and the kid won’t get hurt,” he growled.

Tentatively, Ara turned around, hoping Nabi would stay in her changeroom.

Alas, that was not to be, as Nabi stepped out. “Unnie, my zipp-” she stared at the man and Ara calmly, though her eyes were wide with shock. Slowly, she crept behind Ara, keeping an eye on the man.

“Come quietly and you’ll both be fine,” threatened the man. They headed out the back way to the van idling by the door. 

Getting in, Ara felt the dull throb of a needle prick as everything faded to black.

~~~

Jungkook headed to the fitting rooms anxiously. Twelve minutes had passed with no sign of either Nabi or Ara. Normally, Ara asked for his opinion on formal fits; while he supposed she may have decided to ask Jimin’s opinion instead, he was still a little worried.

As soon as he saw the silver and jade hairpin Ara had worn that day on the ground, the needle pointing to the back exit, he knew something was up. Pulling out his phone, he began making calls.

~~~

Slowly blinking her heavy lids, Ara tried to focus her thoughts and make sense of everything. As she gradually became more clear-headed, her memories returned.

Pretending to still be unconscious, she strained her senses to check her surroundings.

So far, she could tell that she was likely in a warehouse (how original) in the industrial area by the Han River, with the smell of water and the faint industrial noises surrounding her.

Nabi was in the chair behind her, back-to-back, either still out or merely pretending, like herself.

Ara couldn’t sense any hostile presence around–evidently, they were still supposed to be under the drug’s influence for a while longer.

Carefully, she pressed her watch button in and twisted it, sending an emergency GPS ping to both Chan and Jin.

Clearly, the kidnappers didn’t expect much of a chaebol heiress; since she was untouched, her eight knives, two GPSs, and five impromptu weapons were still on her. Well, at least they were respectful. This meant she was likely not going to be harmed, at least at first, and they didn’t know she was Vixen. 

She could work with that.

“Nabi-ah, are you awake?” If she was, Ara would have to wait for her prince(s) in shining armour (unless the kidnappers tried something before then), but if Nabi was still out, Ara could fight her way out and then claim a rescue…

She felt Nabi’s hands brush hers, then– “I know you’re Vixen. Can you get us out of here before oppa comes?”

 How- how did this child– Jimin still didn’t know!

“I’ll try.” She wiggled a knife free and passed it through their bonds to Nabi. “Go for blood if you’re in trouble. Now is not the time for guilt or gentleness. Use your teeth and elbows if you have to. Aim for fleshy parts like eyes, groin, or disabling their arms and hands.”

“Got it,” Nabi whispered back. “You’re so cool, unnie.”

Ara smiled inwardly, then began tugging the knot of the rope around her hands loose.

Once she had undone the ropes, she slyly slid one of her knives from her thigh free, using it to cut Nabi loose. “Sit tight unless you’re attacked, okay? On three, I’m going to get our captors’ attention. I already sent a distress signal, so Jimin and Jungkook will be here soon,” she added to reassure her foster daughter.

On three, she ripped the blindfold off and stood up, sliding the knives tucked into her heels out and kicking them off, choosing to fight barefoot.

A quick slash up the side seam of her skirt, and she was ready to fight.

The kidnappers had noticed that she was awake, and five men dressed in black ran into the room. 

Good, no guns, yet. The illegal weapons left traces very difficult to clean up and explain away.

Silently she charged the row of three, using the first’s momentum to tumble the second and third like dominoes.

While they were still reeling, Ara began slicing at the fourth and fifth, incapacitating them by aiming for their thighs and shoulders.

One, Two, and Three regained their balance, and Ara hurled one of her blades into Two’s shoulder as she danced around Three, hitting pressure points to take him out.

On her way to One, she yanked the knife out of Two’s shoulder, jabbing it at his waist and thigh.

One appeared to be better trained than the others as he aimed for a pressure point on Ara’s neck. Unluckily for him, she grabbed his wrist, forced him to his knees, and kicked him in the groin.

Spinning back to Two, she hit his neck to temporarily paralyse him, watching him slump before repeating the motion on One.

Sighing, she brushed her hair out of her face, wishing she hadn’t dropped her hairpin at the store as a clue for Jungkook. He’d have found her soon enough through the CCTVs, and she could see better without her hair flying around if she’d kept it.

A second batch of five emerged from the hallway she assumed led to the boss’s control room, but this time the group was armed and better prepared.

Ara supposed the first group were the disposable, bottom-tier underlings who underestimated her.

Dropping into a crouch, she grinned ferally. Worked every time.

Two and Three charged her at the same time, so she simply crouched there, then uncoiled at the last second. Using Two’s knee as a springboard, she wrapped her legs around Three’s neck, sending Two sprawling and choking Three out.

On her way to meet One, Four, and Five, she gifted Two a knife to the thigh, dangerously close to the femoral artery. Oops.

Just before she hit One and Four, she dropped to her knees and slid by, taking their legs out. Rather badass a move of her, if she thought so herself.

Five grabbed her by the hair–rude, but smart— thankfully, it was long enough she could twist to face him and swipe at his knees, then grab his wrist and twist him around.

He released her hair, and she swiftly knocked him out, then headed back to the still-conscious Two, Four, and One.

A quick insurance stab to their dominant arms, and all ten opponents were incapacitated, if not unconscious.

Ara spun to the door, dropping into a defensive stance and re-gripping her blades tightly, only to relax in relief when IN and Felix showed up. 

“Oh, good, you’re the first ones here. Nabi knows– I’ll figure out how later– but as of right now, Jimin doesn’t know, so you two took out those assailants, okay? I watched you rescue me when I woke up halfway through the fight,” Ara quickly aligned their cover stories.

Clearly, she should tell Jimin about her…nightly business ventures, but now would not be the time.

“Yes, ma’am,” Vixen’s bodyguards saluted, then began dragging the kidnappers into a row and tying them up.

Ara reclaimed her knife from Nabi and sat back in her chair, holding hands with the girl.

“Jimin-ssi should be here very soon and we can go home, okay? You were so brave; I’m proud of you. It’s okay now, so I understand if you’re a little scared or overwhelmed. Do you want to talk about it?”

Nabi shook her head. “I wasn’t scared; I knew you’d keep us safe, and Jimin-oppa and Jungkook-oppa would come for us.”

‘’How did you know I’m Vixen, Nabi-ah? And I gather you figured Jimin and Jungkook out too.”

Nabi grinned, turning in her chair to face Ara. “Jimin-oppa doesn’t wear a mask. I recognized him from the night when you all rescued us. That pink hair is kind of distinctive. I thought Jungkook-oppa worked for Vixen, but then I saw him with Jimin at the police station. I didn’t know till you woke me up for supper the first night; the way you talked to me and approached me was just like Vixen. And then I saw you with Jungkook-oppa and you were close to him like Vixen was.”

“Is that why you were watching us all so closely?” Ara had a revelation. “I just thought you didn’t trust us yet.”

Nabi nodded proudly. “I was trying to figure out who knew what about who.”

Ara smiled at Nabi and smoothed her hair down. “You are a very clever girl– you’re the first person to figure out that Shin Ara and Vixen are the same person. Everyone else who knows, I told. Have you figured out what everybody knows by now?”

“I think so…you and Jungkook-oppa know each other and Jimin-ssi, and he knows Jungkook-oppa but not you?”

Ara nodded, “Good job, Nabi-ah. Jimin’s family and mine are allies, and Jungkook works for both of them, Gray and Bangtan. He also works for my –Vixen’s– family, Stray Kids. Jimin-ssi and my appa both do not know about me being Vixen, but I think I should tell them now, don’t you?”

Nabi nodded. “Secrets should be kept few and far between.”

“Wise wor-”

Their talk was interrupted by a group of armed men bursting in, guns in hand.

Ara and Nabi blinked back at Jimin’s wide gaze. “You’re safe!”

He holstered his gun and anxiously looked them over. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, pulling Ara into a hug, then Nabi. “What happened?”

“We’re fine, Jimin. Nabi is probably a bit more anxious than she lets on, but we’re fine,” Ara ran her hand down his chest soothingly, feeling the rapid thumping of his heartbeat.

Jimin pulled back to examine Ara's face. “Why is there blood on you?”

“Oh, it's not mine, it’s…theirs…” Ara waved at the neat row of captives guarded by Felix and IN. “They took those guys out and rescued Nabi and me. Jungkook called them, saying we were in trouble.”

Ara had to have some last fun as Vixen, before she unmasked. Unable to resist, she asked in a loud whisper, “Why are there so many of you and why did you have a gun?!”

Jungkook coughed loudly to cover his laughter at Ara’s acting. Felix and IN exchanged grins, turning their backs to ‘guard the prisoners’.

The rest of Jimin’s squad of six looked awkwardly around, invested in the drama and wondering how their boss was going to get out of this jam.

Panic flashed through Jimin’s eyes. “Uh…why don’t we get you home and have a doctor look at you, jagiya. You must have been so scared, Nabi-ah. Let’s go home, hm? I think Mrs Lee was stress-baking up a storm.”

Jungkook slipped out to start the car and told Jimin quietly, but loud enough for Ara to get the message, “I called Dr. Hyunjin– he’ll understand. I have Lady’s men ready to help; I called her guys after you and Jin-hyung.”

“Thanks, JK.” Jimin escorted his girls to the car, leaving Jungkook to drive home while he fussed over them in the backseat.

Ara waited till Nabi showered and Hyunjin okayed her to do anything, much to her husband’s chagrin.

Nabi went straight to bed, and Hyunjin told Ara and Jimin that she was healthy, with no side effects from the drug used to knock them out, and was only stressed, though less so than he’d expected.

Ara was touched by Nabi’s faith in her and her guys. 

Hyunjin said good night and all the attention was on Ara. She willingly took a shower, conceding to that after adamantly refusing Hyunjin’s checkup.

Finally, so Jimin would stop worrying, she agreed to give him five minutes to reassure himself that she was indeed feeling 100%.

Ara perched on the counter in her ensuite, her towel wrapped around her neatly and another on her head to keep her hair from dripping in her face.

Cupping Jimin’s face in her hands, she looked him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, yeobo.”

“It’s not your fault, jagi,” Jimin protested immediately.

“Not the kidnapping, no, but the worrying, yes. There’s something I need to tell you. Please don’t freak out, okay?”

Jimin nodded warily, his eyes full of questions.

Ara grimaced, then said. “I know you’re Park Jimin, Head of the Bangtan mafia.”

His face jerked out of her hands. “What? No, I’m not– where did you–”

“Sh, I know, Jimin.” She cupped his face again. “I know Appa is Shin Jungok, head of the Gray mafia. I know my oppas work for you and him as mafiosos. I know your friends aren’t just your friends, they’re also mafia. I know my friend Minho is mafia. The reason I know all this is because…I’m mafia. I’m Lady Vixen.”

Jimin pulled his face away again to stare at her, his jaw slack and his eyes wide.

“I know I was never supposed to know who you all are, but I have since I was twelve. I started planning Vixen then; Kookie helped me. When I was seventeen and Kook was my full-time bodyguard and we could sneak around, I became Vixen.”

“I…don’t believe you.”

Ara hopped off the counter and exited the bathroom, heading for her closet. She changed into jeans and a blouse, then slid her shoes on. “Follow me if you dare.”

Jimin took her hand, confused and curious, as Ara led him to Jungkook’s bike in the garage.

They hopped on, Ara revved, and they sped off, Ara making evasive manoeuvres and pulling over randomly to ensure no one would follow them.

Ara casually strolled up to Vixen’s HQ, D9, and entered her fingerprint, eight-digit code, and eye scan after a moment’s pause.

She headed straight to the back, to Vixen’s room, waving briskly at the sparring members of her mafia gathered in the main room, and pressed on a panel in the wall.

The panel popped out and Ara reached in, removed a small package, and slipped her contacts and fangs in. A small tube of lipstick sat on a shelf, and Ara carefully applied a coat. The mask went on, the jacket was zipped up, and her boots laced up.

Dumbfounded, Jimin watched as his wife did a slow twirl in front of him, a smug smirk on her face. The entire transformation took five minutes.

“You’re really Vixen.”

“Yup.”

Hyunjin popped in with the blacklight again and Ara confirmed her SKZ tattoo on her shoulder. “Thanks, Jinnie. Can you ask the others to come see me in a minute, please?”

In the minute they were left alone, Ara sat behind her desk and kicked out a chair for Jimin to sink into. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner–for worrying you without reason. I was actually the one who knocked out the guys; Innie and Lix got there after. That’s why I was bloody.”

Hyunjin reentered with IN and Felix, handing Jimin a bundle.

He unwrapped it to discover six knives and two stilettos, which caused him to turn to Ara in confusion.

She smirked. “I never go out unarmed. I also have a GPS in each watch and a few of my larger jewellery pieces. I could also have utilized the belt on my skirt and my necklace as weapons, if I so wish. Unfortunately, I had to leave my hairpin behind, but I often wear my hair up in pins because they double as an excellent weapon in a pinch…especially if they’re modified. All this is to say, I’m sorry for worrying you earlier, and I can take care of myself, so please don’t worry if something like this happens again.”

Jimin stared at her, taking in this whole other side of his wife he’d overlooked before. “Wow, you really are a vixen.”

She tossed him a wink, a proper one, as Seungmin, Minho, Chan, Changbin, and Jisung entered. 

“Sup, Vix? Oh…”

“Yep, I told him. Thought he might like to know some of my most trusted men, so he can reassure himself about everything.”

Once her men gave a succinct explanation of their path to Stray Kids and left, the couple were left alone, silence blanketing Vixen’s office.

Jimin leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. “You’re really something, jagiya.”

The faint sound of people sparring elsewhere in the building filtered through the air while he collected his thoughts.

“I want to be angry that you hid all this from me, but I can’t really without being a hypocrite. Thank you for telling me now.”

Ara sighed in relief. “Thank you for accepting this part of me. Shall we agree to keep no more secrets?”

The two shook hands solemnly. “No more secrets.”

“Oh, by the way…Nabi figured you out the first night she stayed with us because you don’t wear a mask, and also because of your pink hair. She found me out because Vixen and Ara approached her the same way.”

Jimin sputtered and Ara giggled.

“We have a future menace to society and the underworld on our hands.”

Park Jimin and Shin Ara exited the courthouse, their bodyguards shielding them and their new daughter from the paparazzi.

Once the trial was over and the traffickers harshly sentenced, Nabi relaxed more and was able to enjoy life.

She’d readily agreed to Jimin and Ara’s proposal and was delighted to become a Park.

Secretly, she was dying to know which Family she’d join when she grew up, but wisely didn’t say anything about it.

Now, the papers were signed, sealed, and filed, and Kim Nabi was officially Park Nabi.

In honour of the occasion, Bangtan and Stray Kids had collaborated again to open Black Swan, a restaurant that would be Nabi’s future, if she so desired.

Bangtan and Gray had also collaborated to open Blue and Grey, the last bar in the Blue string owned by Jungok.

He’d been thoroughly shocked to find out his little girl had known for a long time about his secondary business, and how she had twisted his most trusted men around her little pinky (Jin and Namjoon had been glared at for weeks after Ara spilled the beans), but he was proud of her ambition and success, even though he wished she had stayed on the legal side of things.

~~~

Jimin crawled into bed beside Ara and flipped off the light, turning to pull her to him.

“How is everything going? You’ve been pretty busy lately,” she murmured, cuddling into his body heat.

“It’s calming down now, thankfully. The worst part is seeing you less.”

“Flatterer,” she said, but Jimin heard the smile in her voice. “I miss you too, when you’re busy like this.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, enjoying her angelic appearance as the moonlight fell across her face. They lay there, cuddling in silence for a while, until a thought struck Jimin. He’d been getting used to talking to Ara about his mafia issues, knowing that she’d understand him better now.

“Yoongi is looking for a wife.”

“Oh?” Sheets rustled as Ara pulled away a bit, turning to look at him.

“Yeah, for some reason he wants a wife who’s not in a gang. You know anyone?”

Ara made a noise of surprise. “Really? Hm…I might! You know how I’m allying with that gang, Seventeen, temporarily? I might find a way. I’ll look into it.”

TO BE CONTINUED…in Godmother: Tigress

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading my story! I hope you have a beautiful life<3

Some fun notes about the universe, if you're interested:

-> 22924514 = Vixen in Alpha-numeric code. It's Vixen's code for D9. D9 is a STAY easter egg.

-> Jimin and Jungkook were both part of the same trafficking/rescue situation. They weren’t together, though, and their memories are fuzzy and black out from that time. Eventually, they realise they have a connection and bond over it.

[elmushterri]

I was writing snippets for a guntech au short story and realized i was essentially writing fanfiction of a fanfiction. Nothing more just thought it was funny. I also love the idea of nori coming out as nonbinary mid series and the pjms just roll with it.

AHH?? YOU ARE?? OMG I WOULD LOVE TO READ IT (No pressure if you’re not posting it ofc)! 🧡🧡🧡

And yeah!! Nori could never be contained by gender 🔥. They’re literally “The Night” 😎😎.

(Not canon to my au but here’s-)

“

Gekko: As for Nori, that guy’s a real problem these days-

Nori, from behind them on a building or something: Not a guy, actually, just a problem.

Gekko: Oh, hi Nori, congrats!

Catboy: There are several warrants out for your arrest.

Nori: Transphobia.. 😔💔

Catboy: But I’m als—

Nori: And in Pride Month too.. 😔💔💔

Owlette: It’s not Pride M—

—

Or like 😭

Connor: I need to disrespect you, what are your pronouns?

Nori: He/They

[back2bluesidex]

Everything's Fair - PJM [Masterlist]

Patreon Membership Exclusive Drabble Series

Part of Bangtan Chaebol Universe

Pairing: Chaebol!Jimin X Fem!Reader

Theme: pining, tiny angst, smut, Jimin is whipped, eventual fluff, strangers to lovers au. Drabble series.

Summary: Jimin has dated a shit ton of people. He has slept with even more of them, but never once he managed to fall in love. That was until you came into his life and managed to make him go head over heels with just one sight. Umm.. so what if you are his fuck-buddy's new roommate? Everything is fair in love and war.  And Jimin only knows how to win.

Warnings: smut, Jimin is evil, he is a fuckboy too, more will be added as the story progresses. NSFW!!

A/N: I will be updating once a week. The length of each chapter will be 1k to 1.5K since it's a drabble series. this is a refined version of a seokjin series I started but couldn't continue.

Chapter Index:-

Part one: Love at first sight

Part two: She is single

Part three: At the vending machine

Part four: Drive you home?

Part five: Is it unfair?

Part six: Finally the confession

Part seven: A minor inconvenience

Part eight: It's raining cats and dogs

Part nine: Late night ramen

Part ten: Park Jimin is dating!? [Finale]

Sneak Peek

Jimin’s knuckles drum on the wooden door as he waits for Minji or her faceless new roommate to open the door for him. 

He hears shuffling on the other side of the door but the door doesn’t open just yet. 

“Who is this?” a voice asks. Since it’s not Minji - it must be the roommate, Jimin thinks. 

“Ah.. I am Jimin, Minji’s friend.” he replies. He decides to introduce himself as her friend, of course, he can’t say: hey hi, I am here to fuck Minji in your shared home. 

“Oh. okay.'' The voice seems to be convinced as the person on the other side finally opens the door wide enough for him to enter. 

If Jimin stops breathing for a moment then he doesn’t dwell upon it. 

Minji’s new roommate, you, are absolutely the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. 

Your hair cascades down your shoulders, you have a small face with a set of big doe eyes, a pair of nice pink lips and a not-so-well-shaped nose. 

By no means do you look like a model or a beauty pageant winner. But you very much look like a person completely capable of captivating Park Jimin with a single glance.