jimin thinks y/n can’t commit to him and that’s not the truth at all - !Part 2!
➺ pairing; park jimin x reader
➺ genre; balletteacher!jiminiverse! Hurt/comfort, Hurt/no comfort, Shame, Guilt, Anger, (Jimin and Y/n infuriate me so much omg, just like fuck already guys), [f.] Masturbation, soft moments, cuddles, memories, sad reader, ANGST ANGST ANGST AND OH YEAH, ANGST, hinted sex, cunillingus,
➺ summary; After your final words with Jimin, everything just comes tumbling down. Will fate pull you two back together? Or will the strings of life finally break what was always meant to sever..
A/n: Requested by @chimmy-licious
I DON’T OWN THIS FIC IDEA. This was originally a request to complete a series which had not been updated in three years. I don't claim the idea, nor the first part of this little work. Credit to the original author; @jungshookz
(However, this second part is mine so please do not copy, translate, modify, or repost this anywhere without MY permission to do so.)
Part 1 - (credit to @jungshookz)
You had ended up falling asleep on your sofa, body molded around a certain wine Jimin had been saving for your one year anniversary. Lips cracked, nose running, with about a thousand puffs tissues surrounding your worn-out figure.
You’d been hoping this was some kind of bad dream.
A reality your internalized anxiety had caused.
That you’d wake up from this nightmare to see the man you love, passed out peacefully on your full sized bed. Watching as the sun’s morning rays beam down, cracking through the half-way blinds pulled down, illuminating bits and pieces of his baby-like features. His chest, rising and falling in patterns, that had become your lullaby.
To him throwing an arm sleepily across your figure when you go to kiss his cheek goodbye for the morning, heading out to your early single run session. His mouth parting slightly, strings of protests and soft moans exile, convincing you to not go.
“Mmmm, not yet.” He lets out a soft groan, pulling you by the waist back down, until you’re flushed against his body. The point of his chin resting atop your apex, as soft rises of his chest drag your body back down into a sleep. Your lips curve into a gentle smile, trying to wiggle your way out of his arms. Yet, all of the weekends he’d spent at the gym prior to your relationship had still been paying off.
Now, his weekends only belong to you.
The tears had seemed like an endless river, rushing down to greet the next new paths of its journey. Cheeks puffed and red, as you stand to discard the late night’s binge evidence, and sob session helpers. Everywhere you turned, had been a bitter reminder of the previous night. The small heater that had busted last winter, where you had to curl up in the living room, surrounded by piles of blankets to keep warm, while watching a screened fireplace crackle on your flat screen TV. The digitized embers mocked your broken wallet, and snowed in selves. However, even with the bite of a blizzard’s pearly whites, and a broken heating system, it had become the best few days of Christmas break.
Tucking himself back in between the comfort of your body and the blankets, his arms tug around your figure, pulling you closer to him to keep warm. The two mugs of hot-chocolate he’d carried along with him on the two feet walk from your kitchen to the living room, had almost killed him.
However, it’s like his body was set on fire when your head turned, flashing him a warming smile at the sight of the delicious drinks. The white specs lay in your eyes, symbolizing hope. Hope in this winter day passing..
You suck in a deep breath, taking a look around the clutter of your apartment. Moving boxes stuffed into the corner, while a few furniture pieces had still not yet been unwrapped from their bubble packaged blankets. Your eyes trails across the empty room, memories of the two of you flooding your mind. The first cooking dinner date you had in the kitchen, your first board game night..
His leg kicks the door shut. Arms wrapped around your delicate figure, as he unconsciously guides the two of you to the back of your couch’s arm. Knees buckle under the weight, allowing yourself to fall back into the comfort of your sofa. His body towers you, tips of his fingers trailing up the plains of your torso. A small grin tugs his corner lip.
With a soft nod, he’s quick to discard the piece of thin fabric. What had started off as a calming walk in the park, hands intertwined as you pointed out the various colors among the busy streets..
Had led to a late morning practice confession.
You could still feel the lingering of his touch. The way he used to gently caress the top of your head. When you’re cooking, reading ..
The broad of his shoulders doubles over your own, legs lifting to wrap around his torso. The gentle rock of his hips into yours, the intimate eye contact, had made the moment that much more special. You could feel the warmth of something sliding up to hold onto your hand. Weightful movements, with staggered breaths brought you that much closer to the ending of your beginning.
“Fu-fuck..” He moans, plush lips parting as the sweat of his brow drips down the side of his face. Your hands reach out, carding your fingers through his damp locks, as your head leans up, capturing his lips in a soft exchange.
“Y-Y/n..” Letting out sharp breaths, the roll of his hips against yours lulls you into an erotic, passionate spell. His movements had just as much grace and precision as his routines did. As if he’d been crafted from the gentle sway of a tree’s moves himself. You could feel the tensing of his biceps above you, as his face lowers down to press butterfly-like kisses along the paths of your chest. Lips lingering on the erect bud of your breast, his tongue grazing across the surface of your skin, eyes glancing up to lock onto yours.
You’d never seen someone look at you the way he had..
Your feet unconsciously guide you down the small corridor of your apartment. Fingertips dragging along the chipped and worn out wall’s memories. The tears you’d thought you’d ridden yourself of, coming back to play a taunting and tortuous melody. As if they’d wanted you to be in this much pain.. Your hands reach the small picture frames along the small of your hallway’s little nightstand in the corner. Framed photographs and polaroid pictures sat along the surface’s flat, as you admired the little contents and reminiscences.
Truly, if walls could talk..
“Really Y/n!” His voice echoes down the empty hall, as you take to lean against the wall’s turn corner. He’d been so set on this idea for so long. Your hands gently hold up a small mug of coffee you’d made in the morning.
“I.. don’t really know what you mean.” Jimin lets out a huff of frustration, turning on his heel to face your figure. Lips turning down into a short pout.
“I just.. We’ve been together for some time now, and all of the pictures we take when we go places..” You lips the small mug to your lips, taking a minor sip of the hot liquid’s content. Tonguing on the idea he’d been advocating so passionately for the last ten minutes.
“Well, we just don’t really go anywhere.. Besides, Why would I display us here-” You motion to the empty nightstand top, “instead of there?” pointing to your bedroom’s entrance. Jimin’s lips don’t open to counter, but the pout still remains. After a few seconds of silence, you let out a sigh, setting the mug down on the counter. Arms coiling around his somber figure, pulling his body closer to your own. Your head buried deep into his chest, as you finally let out.
“You’re right.. I just-” You pull away to glance up at him. “Wouldn’t it look weird to my friends if they saw me posing with our dance instructor?” He’s hesitant to pull away, leaving your embrace for the chilling emptiness of alone’s instead. Back turned, as he goes to pick up the set of keys he’d always lay on the little fruit bowl you’d bought from a consignment shop prior to moving in three years ago.
Clicking on the door evicts the hopeful silence.
You hadn’t seen him again for another three days after that. Miss Im had to cover for his classes at the studio, though she hadn’t explained why. It wasn’t until almost the fifth night that your phone had gone off during a marathon of reality TV that no one really watches anymore. Swiping up, your phone unlocks, displaying the new message.
Yeah.. that’s not murderous at all..
You: I’m not listening to a stranger.
Unknown: Party pooper, Y/n.. 😔
Unknown: Your boyfriend who’s about to bust down your door lug you over my shoulder and kidnap you if you don’t come down 😈
[Typing.. ] Jimin? Why are yo-
Wait.. this might be a trap..
[Typing..] How aggressive.. I still don’t know who this is.
You: How aggressive.. I still don’t know who this is.
It wasn’t long until you heard a banging against your apartment door.
Great. This is where you die.
You always thought you could escape the killer psychopath movies, because you’re obviously smarter than those characters.
Soon, you hear the jiggling of the key in the lock, forcing your door open.
“I told you I’d bust down this door if- why are you holding a lamp?” His head tilts to the side, chuckling softly at your defense position. You’d grabbed the closest thing to you..
Which ended up being the lamp your grandmother had gifted you a year ago.
“I.. uh-” You quickly set the object down, clearing your throat. “Y-You were acting like a serial killer! Why did you text me from a random number anyways?!”
Jimin lets out a chuckle, making a b-line towards your guarded figure, still slightly gripping the couch’s end for support. “Sorry.. I forgot to tell you. I dropped my phone in the toilet when I was brushing my teeth. Had to get a new one.” He pulls the small mobile from his jeans pocket, giving proof to his story. The small, sleeked blackened case had allured the cellphone with a mysterious aura. His eyes trail along the grip you had kept on the sofa, tugging a smile on his lips.
“Damn.. what I wouldn’t give to be a couch..” He chuckles, grabbing your hand to lead you out the doorway before you could protest.
“Shh..” He stops, facing his torso to catch your eyes. You look down, noticing a black, silk dangling in his grasp.
His hand slips into yours, as you’re being blindly led through a maze of foreign objects in which you had no idea what had been. Some felt like bushes and a few trees, others felt like different types of people. You could definitely hear the sounds of the city. Loud honks, blaring music, booming radios and more. Until suddenly, it just-
“Okay, we’re here..” He slowly removes the blindfold, as your eyes adjust to the newly dimmed lighting. Once there’d been no more pain from the sudden exposure, your heart drops at the sight.
You were in the dance studio.
The lights had been dimmed, with a soft, pink glow illuminating in the foreground. Jimin takes a few steps backwards, clicking a small button from the little remote in his hand. Suddenly, a twinkle of sparkling glows lit up the whole studio, making the mirror reflect ten times as much as the small practice room had been. It had looked like an endless fairytale, in which you never wanted to leave.
Soon, you felt his hands slip into yours. His chocolatey irises bare down, taking your gaze as a sign for speech.
“I know I might not be good at the whole ‘love’ thing..”
“Mhm, maybe not.” You tease. His eyes roll, slightly squeezing your hands in his.
“You’re not so good yourself, miss I’m-a-love-expert” You giggle, hitting his arm softly in response. “That was one time, let it go!”
His lips part slightly, chuckling at your retort. “Okay okay.. Letting go. So back to what I was saying-”
“You were saying how talented and awesome I am.” You grin slightly, hoping he’d take the bait.
His eyebrow raises in question, but continues on.
“Well it was along those lines but..” He takes a deep breath. “I know we might not be good at this whole love thing.. and we are both pretty stubborn..”
“Y/n! This is being stubborn!” His voice raises above the little classical music you’d creating a routine for the past few weeks, for the upcoming performance. A smile brushes your lips, as you put your hands up in surrender.
“Alright alright.. I’m sorry. Please, continue.”
“Okay. as I was saying -” He sends you a side eye.
“I know we’re both good at one thing.” His grasp pulls you to the center of the room, as he plugs in his new Iphone from the sidelines. A snazzy, emotional classic comes over the speakers, as he reaches out his hand for an offer.
Your eyebrow raises. “Bickering?”
His eyes roll, shaking his head. “You’re something, I swear..”
You take his offered hand, chuckling at your accomplishment. “Not really.” Your bodies move along slowly to the music, before he’s spinning you around gently, until you’re facing him directly.
“It’s funny, seeing my dance teacher all pouty.”
His arms wrap around your body, tugging you to him until your back is flushed with his chest. Breath-filled whispers trail along the planes of your neck, as his lips brush the shell of your ear lightly.
“Well, I’m not your dance instructor right now..”
He twirls you out, pulling you back in, with your arms catching steady around his neck. His hands pressed into your hips, as your lips barely brush one another’s. His heavy breaths mixed with yours creates a certain type of potion, that seems to have you both under a heavy spell.
You could barely find your voice, as you could hear the classical, emotional melody switch to something much more intense. A deep base, kicking snares, and an R&B melodic voice to drown out the worries of this world, putting all of your focus on the moment. You could barely get out two little words from the intensity of it all.
Once your apartment had looked -somewhat- decent, you checked the new notifications on your phone.
July 2nd, 7:30AM (5 minutes ago)
This is your two-hour reminder email, along with a text message that will be sent to you for the consultation with the Dean set at 9:30AM (July 2nd), today. Please remember to bring your Student ID with you. The closing window for any cancellations has now ended.
HYBE DANCE ACADEMY, Office of Administrations
You close out the email, tossing your phone across the room to let it land on the bed. Deciding to take a quick shower before the meeting, you drop the rest of your clothes to the floor, reaching past the glass door of your shower, turning the faucet on. As the stream fills the room slowly, your head is dragged back to its bitter-sweet reminiscences.
The sound of giggles and laughs could be heard through the echoing walls of your apartment. The bathroom mirror and glass door had become too fogged up due to the humidity.
And.. maybe something else..
“Oh my god” Your head lulls back, thigh twitching is response as Jimin’s tongue flattened against your aching clit, his free hand reaching upwards to cup one of your breasts. Your hand tugs at his dampened locks, fingernails trailing along his scalp in the process. Plush lips wrapped around the soaking flesh between your legs, as the thigh that had been thrown over his shoulder tenses from his motions. After a few seconds, his eyes glance up to make sure everything’s okay.
He secretly pats himself on the back for such a responsive look from you. Your hair messily flipped to the side, as a stream of water flows down the entirety of your body, lips jarring open as he watches the sharp rise and fall of your chest slow its rate. Eyes blown out beyond imagination, as you too had noticed his gaze.
His body rises up to tower over yours once again, a smirk pressing his lips.
“Earth to Y/n~” He teases.
Your eyes lull back, before reluctantly coming back to reality. His hands trail up your skin, leaning his head down to capture your lips in a heated exchange. Before you know it, you’re hoisted up against the fogged glass wall, the squishy tip of his cock pressing at your entrance, begging for permission. In a few movements, he’s easily slipping past your velvety walls, making your mouth cry out a fit of moans.
“Fuck..” Your head falls backwards, hand embarrassingly stuffed between the space of your thighs as your finger rubs figure eights against your aching clit. Your free hand clasps to cover your mouth, muffling the shameful noises that exile with every movement of your chest. You could almost hear the desperation in his voice, the closer you’d become to your climax. His raspy morning voice.. The slight growl he’d developed when he too had been reaching his limit.. The whine he exasperated every time you’d clenched around his throbbing cock.
Just to feel it one last time. To have his dancer-graced, heaven-sent hips slamming into your own.. In a passionate way of course. His hands sporadically trailing all over your body.. lips, as if drinking in all that you had offered, hadn’t been enough to satiate his thirst for you.
Mind replaying every intimate scene you’d ever had with him. The late night, relationship booty-calls because one of you was too fucking horny to wait until the weekend when you’d see one another. Every position he’d ever put you in. All the times at the dinner table he’d just absolutely destroyed your pussy with just two fingers, while catching up with the Kardashians, until you’d become a whiny, fucked out bitch.
“J-Jimin.. Oh f-fuck! Jimin!” Your screams had become nothing more than an unanswered prayer. All of the memories, being forcefully replayed in your mind like how a psychopath would torture their victims with playing the same move over and over until they too, go insane.
Your legs had been on the verge of giving in. The joints in your fingers, which had been helping in letting out all of your frustrations, had begun faltering. Your chest staggered in breaths you didn’t even know you had. Practically mauling your lip for just some sort of relief. Begging for this to never end, but just wanting it to.
Then, your mind really fucked with you.
Images of the kiss Jimin and Nayeon had shared, flooded your mind.
Soon, all of the sweet, intimate moments that had been yours.. Were stolen away with Nayeon’s face. Of her cuddling up with Jimin on the couch.. Of Jimin dancing with her in the dark late at night in the studio, as his apology.
That stupid fucking kiss!
“FUCK!” You yell out, removing your hand in hatred. Quick to finish up your shower, you throw on the clothes you’d laid out along with the leotard and a scrunchie wrapped around your wrist for class later that day.
If you even went to class..
Your leg tapped nervously against the corridor’s marbled flooring. The halls are so large in comparison to your tiny apartment. Your finger toyed with the little string dangled from the hem of your t-shirt, before a lady wearing a pantsuit had stepped into sight.
If the halls had been decorated, the Dean’s office had been absolutely decked out. Framed photos of colleagues and the Dean in his younger days, sprawled all over the walls. Trophies of winning champions and teams of the Academy displayed in what seemed like a thousand glass cases.
The Dean’s voice pulls you from your train of thoughts. “Ah, yes.” His hand motions towards the seat in front of him, as you hesitantly obey.A few clicks of his computer later, and he’s spinning slightly to the side to face you across his desk. “So, what seems to be the issue here?”
He types on the computer, clicking his mouse while pulling up something. “Seems like you’ve been doing an excellent job here at the academy.”
“Well yes, sir. I’ve been-”
“Practicing very hard, I see. So, are you ready for competition this year? They say it’s going to be just as difficult as nationals.” Your eyes widen. You hadn’t even thought of the possibility of getting into the top ranks.
His eyes squint, before tilting his computer to the side for you to check. “Seems like you’ve been placed at the top of the roster. By..”
Please don’t say it, please don’t say it.
You could feel the tears welling up in your ducts, having to push down any signs of the uncomfortable you felt while hearing his name, instead deciding to replace it with a light chuckle instead.
“Ah, yes. He’s my mentor.”
The Dean smiles, nodding. “One of our best. Well, besides Nayeon.” He leans forwards, flashing a smile. “Let me tell you, Y/n. It takes a lot of dedication and work to get where Naeyon is at. Why, I remember when she first joined the academy-”
“Uhm, I actually wanted to discuss something..”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Ah, I seem to have lost my head. I’m sorry, Y/n. I know you’re not here to hear me gloat about our best female instructor.” You nod, pushing down the urge to frankly;
Punch the shit out of him, and Nayeon.
He types on the computer, before turning the screen back to him. “So, what did you like to discuss?”
Just then, the door cracks, a head peeking inside quietly. “Sorry to interrupt, Mister Broushe but I was wondering when the papers would be sig-”
“Oh.. I’m sorry. I can come back later-”
“No no.” The Dean protests, motioning over his desk. “Come, sit. We were actually just talking about you.” Nayeon’s eyes set across yours, silently asking if it’s okay to sit next to you.
“Really?” She questions, taking a seat hesitantly.
The Dean nods, smiling. “Our star instructor, and student of 2016.”
Nayeon’s cheeks heat up slightly, turning her head in embarrassment. A shy smile tugs her perfectly matte lips. “Ah.. come on.. Jimin was- is such a better dancer than me.”
The Dean claps his hands, laughing. “Ah! Always so humble, Nayeon. That’s why you’re our star!”
Your hands clenched in your lap, tugging at the material of your t-shirt once more.
So why doesn’t she look fucking thrilled.
You suddenly stand up, not being able to take this Nayeon praise day. Your hands go to your sides, abruptly walking away from the whole situation. Nayeon rises as well, trailing after you.
“Y/n, wait!” She’s quick to catch up, as you grudgingly turn to face her with a fake smile plastered across your cheeks.
She smiles, propping herself back up in an attempt to catch her breath. “I’m so sorry for interrupting your session.. I was just coming in to get a few papers for the stuff Jimin and I have to fill out.”
Maybe a fucking restraining order.
Her lips curve upwards into a smile. “They’re for competition.” She leans forwards, lowering her voice. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to be sharing this but.. You got placed at the top.”
Your eyebrow raises. What’s the big deal with this whole roster thing anyways?
“What.. does that mean?” You faint curiosity.
She giggles, rising up to straighten out her posture. “It means that you got the most spotlight for our performances!”
Okay, now you’re confused.
“It’s not.. Making sense.”
Her eyes roll playfully, shoving your side gently. “You’ll be doing most of the choreography to represent the Academy! I’ll be teaching you one or two of my own, but Jimin’s the lead instructor for the competition.” Her eyebrows lower, tilting her head to the side. “Are you.. Not happy?”
Your head shakes. “Huh? Oh, no! I’m so so so excited!” Your lips curve, but your eyes don’t smile along. You fake a few leaps of joy, before thanking her as you two head out of the building, in front of campus.
She turns, bidding you a goodbye, as you’re left in front of the administration office, alone once again.
“One more time, Seulgi! And one, and two.. One and two one-”
The auditorium door slams shut on accident, making your slip in for the class not such a slip in. His eyes fall onto your figure, before turning his head back to Seulgi’s moves.
You gulp, silently settling your stuff down into the audience seats, sliding down into one of them to hide yourself. You’d never heard his tone turn so cold before. Even with regular students, he’d always had some kind of light-hearted wisps in his voice.
Towards you, it almost sounded like he had no heart left.
“Pst!-” A familiar voice slides beside you, making your head turn. Jungkook had sported some light-weight looking gray sweats, along with a loose fitting white t-shirt for flexibility. The brown, puppy-like curly locks had fallen into his vision, making him look that much more adorable.
“Hey.. Why weren’t you in class yesterday? Or.. at all last week?” You face the front, not needing another call-out from Gregory House over there.
“Sorry I uhm.. Came down with something.” You lean to the side, still facing the front to get a better hearing of Jungkook’s response. “What’d I miss?”
His voice lowers, shifting in his seat from your proximity. “Miss Nayeon came in last week, and they kept practicing the uh.. Kissing scene.”
You sit up, twisting your torso. “I thought she said that they’d cut it out..?”
He shrugs, backing away slightly from your sudden tone. “I uhm- don’t know. But Mister park came in last week, super pissed. He was chewing out everyone, on every little thing. He even made Lisa do fourty push ups for not having a high enough Grand Jete..”
Your eyes widen, locking onto Jimin’s straightened figure. His arms crossing over his chest, as he watches intently as Seulgi finishes her routine. You lean back, letting out a sigh.
Just as the music had stopped, Jimin’s- Mister Park’s voice echoed through the auditorium.
“That’s enough. Lisa, you’ve gone. Seulgi, Jungkook, Mina, Jae-young.. Who hasn’t done “la danse du cygne’?”
Just before you’re about to sink further into your seat, Seulgi stands up abruptly. “Y/n has been absent the whole week, Mister Park.”
You could see a smirk hiding behind Jimin’s stone-cold look. He claps once, calling out. “Y/N Y/L/N, come up here.” You hesitantly stand, making your way across the large room as you pass by Seulgi, giving her a death glare. You set your stuff on stage in the back, before the spotlight is shining in your sight.
“Since you’re going to be doing most of our routines, and representing the Academy, you need to be practicing even more. ‘se mettre en position’.”
You’re quick to hurry to center stage, fixing your position as the music begins to play. Before you’re allowed to start moving, Jimin throws up a hand.
The music dies, and the room is silent. Everyone turns in question of why he’d stopped before you even began your routine. You could hear the light-steps of his footwork making their way to where you were. As angry as he probably was, he’d still been light as a feather.
“What is this.” His finger points to your feet.
“It’s.. my feet.” He scoffs at your response, crossing his arms in annoyance.
“I understand what feet are, Miss Y/n. However, apparently you don’t.”
Your eyes roll mentally, shifting positions to a more comfortable form. “Ji-”
His eyebrow raises, eyes motioning to the crowd of students who’d also been intensely invested in the scene.
He scoffs, lowering himself to the ground to fix your foot’s position.
“Have you really been ignoring all of my teaching? The routine starts with your foot facing three o’clock. Not one, not two fifty-nine.” You whine slightly, feeling his grip tighten on your ankle, before he releases it. “Three.”
He stands, straightening his back. His eyes burned icey cold daggered into your own, as if he’d been releasing all of his frustration and anger towards you.. On you.
“If you can’t understand the simple terms of what you’re working for, then I don’t see a reason for you to even be on the roster, at all.”
A short, hushed crowd of gasps echoes the room. Your eyes glare up to meet his cold ones. Not a reaction in sight. No pain..
He turns his torso to face the crowd, raising his voice. “You see this, students? This is what you get when you sit on your ass all day. Uneducated, slothful, and selfish.” His hand grabs your own, throwing it up in the air for all of your classmates to see. His eyes glance over, seeing the tears starting to threaten to slip from your control.
He releases your hand, watching as it swings slowly at your side.
“Come back when you’ve learned the difference.”
Your body wouldn’t move. You couldn’t see anything, except the bright spotlight in your eyes, and Jimin’s ice cold glare. You tried sucking in a breath, convincing your body to move just a bit to save a little face..
Your turn to the side, seeing no trace of the man you’d onced said the three hardest words to. Instead, anger and repulsion filled his eyes. Anger towards you.
This.. was all your fault.
An arm is quick to tug you off the stage, pulling you down from everybody’s sights. The hand leads you through the auditorium doors, and down the halls until you’re finally catching up with reality. You glance up, seeing the fluffy, puppy-like boy guiding you through a sea of people on campus.
“J-Jungkook?” He turns back, stopping in place to make sure you’re okay.
“It’s okay, Y/n.. He’s been hard on everyone recently. It’s not your fault.” His bright, bunny smile makes you feel ten times worse.
You’re the reason Lisa had to do fourty push ups. You’re the reason he’s so bitter and cold now.
The knock on your front door does no good in motivating you to get up. Ever since Jimin’s outburst in class two days ago, you’d done nothing but lay on your couch and watch The Walking Dead for the fourth time. The comfort and fluffiness of your throw blankets had a tugging sensation weighing on your emotions, begging you to stay with them.
Up until the door started banging, and a voice could be heard over the dying sounds of characters on your screen.
“Y/n? Open up! We’ve got some serious talking to do!”
You slowly rise from the couch, dragging along the spilled empty ice cream container and spoon, sticking to the fuzz of your blanket, as you slowly crack open the door.
Nayeon stood in the doorway, sporting a look that made her even more gorgeous than ever. Gold earrings minimizing the already small face she’d been blessed with. A black, lacy tea-length dress had adorned her perfectly built figure. A small clutch purse in her grasp, as she catches your eyes.
She takes a few steps inside your apartment, not even having the energy to explain why it’s such a mess. She steps over the piles of dirty laundry you’d gone through in just a few days' length, along with the three tubs of napoleon ice cream to go alongside it all.
“Uh.. wow. You’ve been uh.. Busy?” She takes a seat on the couch’s arm, crossing her legs in a feminine way. Your eyes mentally roll at the sight. She looked as if she’d been a mother fucking princess.
Jimin had been her prince.
And you? The ugly toad who never got kissed.
“Yeah. Yeah, busy.. Sure.” You plop down onto the couch, grabbing the remote to pause your binge show. She turns to the side, scooting down to sit next to you.
“Y/n.. I am so sorry for the way that Ji- Mister Park acted. He should have never done anything like that to you.. You’re.. You’re just a kid!” Her eyes pleaded and apologized, while yours sent her daggers.
She chuckles lightly, backing herself up in words. “Ah.. let me rephrase that..”
She takes your hands in hers, holding your eyes for a more realistic appease. “Y/n.. You’re so wonderfully talented and one of the best dancers I’ve ever seen! Well.. besides Jimin..”
You nod, trying to push down the urge to choke the bitch out. You decide to let her speak. Feed your starving ego that Jimin had so kindly destroyed for you.
She continues. “I just.. Well, he had a fall out with his girlfriend about a week ago.. So you must understand where he’s coming from..”
He sucks in a breath. “Still, he had no right in letting his personal affairs affect his abilities in mentoring. So.. I’ll be taking over his classes for the next two weeks, until he’s calmed himself down.”
“Ah, well I don’t really think that’s a good idea- I mean you already have your class and-”
She stands up. “Nonsense! I’ll just combine the two classes, and we can all learn the routines. It’ll help if anyone forgets some steps. It’s perfect!”
You stand up, finally letting it all go. “No, Miss Nayeon, It’s not! Combining all of the students would only cause stress among yourself! Not to mention how dance is Jimin’s only source of stress release! It’s his whole life! And for you to just come in and take it.. How.. HOW SELFISH YOU!”
Your breath staggers. Heart racing the fastest it’s ever beat in these few days. Nayeon just stands there, shocked. His lips fall to try and find an answer, but she has no words to combat it. She reaches down to pull her clutch from the sofa, and steps away lightly.
“It.. seems like I’ve come at a bad time. Uhm- I hope you feel better, Y/n..” She quickly makes her way out the door, before the halls echo back calmly.
However, your obvious outburst with your new instructor had done nothing but put a brick wall between the two of you. A sort of tension that would only happen if one felt absolutely terrified of the other. Nayeon only spoke to you to say hello or goodbye. All of the mistakes you’d made in your routines, she’d only waved it off and started the music again.
Once she claps three times, class has been dismissed. As you're packing up the rest of your things to shove into your gym bag, you could overhear the voices of Seulgi and her little kiss-face minions gossiping in the corner.
“I don’t know.. I mean maybe he got fired..”
“Nayeon told us that he was just on vacation though..”
“Ugh, wake up and smell the drama, Mina! He obviously got fired.”
“No way.. But- Mister Park was the nicest teacher we’ve ever had!”
“Not to mention the hottest.”
“Yeah, I just think he was having a rough week.”
“Or maybe he fucked a student..”
The plastic water bottle slipped from your hand, spilling all over the wooden sleek floors. You curse under your breath, quick to use the dry of your t-shirt as an absorbing pad, as you try and tune your ears back into the gossip section of class.
“No way! No way! Mister Park isn’t a pedo!”
“Well it’s either that or-”
Suddenly the microphone echoes across the speakers, drowning out the rest of Seulgi’s sentence.
“Alright class, thank you for coming today and, girls-” Nayeon turns her head to face the group of women huddled in the corner, acting as if they’d been sharing drugs instead of drama.
“Let’s keep the gossip for the tabloids, okay? Great work everyone!”
Two days before the competition, everyone had been a mess. Nayeon was quick in helping you learn the rest of your last routine before D-Day.
Although, your apartment didn't have the most spacious room for your practice.
After about the fifth toe-stub of the night, you’d decided to sneak into the campus’s studio for some extra work to be done.
Hand scaling the wall for a touch of a light switch which you knew was there, a sudden noise echoes through the large room. There stood a man entering from the front of the building, opposite to where you’d entered. A set of keys jiggle in his grip, as you bow slightly, quick to move out of the way.
“I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t know that it was-”
The light’s empty beam gave no aid to the situation. Only, he hadn’t been able to see the hurt plain as day on your face, so you guess that’s a plus.
He takes a step forwards, dropping his duffle bag next to the dance pads tucked away in the corner. Walking over to the stereo, he plugs in his phone, setting the small device down as a low melody starts to play.
“I- I’m sorry I’ll just-”
“Wait–” His voice stops your hurried feet, halting you at the exit. His familiar, light footsteps could be heard, even over the echoes and booms of the studio. It wasn’t until you could feel his presence about a foot away, when you felt the sting of tears threatening to present themselves so proudly.
His voice is low and meek, not one you’d expect him to display after all that you two had been through. What you put him through.
“I.. uh- I wanted to apologize. Even though we’re not.. Uhm.. together anymore, doesn’t mean that I should let my personal affairs affect the way of my teachings.”
A somber chuckle exits your lips before you’re able to stop it. “You sound just like her..”
His eyebrow raises, head tilting to the side. Feet inches a little closer. “Sounds like who?”
You finally have the courage to spin around, now having your turn for a hot moment. “Nayeon. Your girlfriend.”
His eyes widened, head shaking immediately. “W-What? N-No i’m not- Y/n I didn’t- Nayeon and I we’re just-”
“You don’t have to explain your relationship status to me, Mister Park.”
Turning back on your heel, you make your way towards the exit. Before you could leave, a hand harshly grips onto your wrist, pulling you backwards further into the studio. Not having one second to oppose, he’s holding you right in front of him, keeping you in place.
“Y/n, I don’t know how many times I have to say this. The kiss Nayeon and I did for the performance was unscripted! I told her to cut it out of the play, but she didn’t listen! It was just a kiss, in which I didn’t return.”
You could feel the tears streaming down your reddened cheeks. Fuck. You didn’t want to cry in front of your ex like this. You’re not some weak, stupid girl who doesn’t know how to control her emotions.
“But you did! You did kiss her back! And it’s because you still LOVE HER!”
His voice over powers yours one last time, having even the music halt itself in his presence. “I was ACTING. I DON’T LOVE, NAYEON, I LOVE YOU, Y/N!”
You stop struggling in his arms, and let out one sentence that shatters his heart into a million pieces.
“And how d-do I know.. That you weren't acting.. with me..?”
D-Day. Competition. The one.
Whatever it’s called, it’s finally come. The day where everyone gets ready in their little tutus and tiaras, pretending to have emotions they don’t feel. Pretending to be someone they’re not.
“We’ve got Seulgi, Mina, Chris, Jungkook, Yum-ni, Y/n, and Lisa.” The stage instructor tells everyone where and when they’ll go on to perform after each team and individual performance. Your eyes linger on the black curtain concealing over five-thousand people behind it. All who are waiting patiently, who paid a good sum of money to see beautiful swans and princes dance.
With all of the makeup, hairspray, and fancy garments on, you’d felt like a princess.
In reality, you felt like a piece of shit.
The night before, you’d left Jimin standing in the studio, with his own thoughts, Regrets, and maybe a few mumbled sorries your way. With anything you left him with, you’d been gone with the wind. By the time you’d gotten back home to your apartment, you crashed. The sofa is doing too well of a job pulling you into a much needed slumber.
The next day.. Well, today, you’d gotten up even earlier to start preparing. Practicing your footwork on the way to the academy, slowly and carefully going over each step in the five of your routines you’d been assigned. You glance down at your pointed toes, letting out a big breath of air at the memory of Jimin’s harsh words.
You shake away the hindrances, stepping out onto the sidewalk. Even with as many steps and dance moves you performed while on your way to morning practice, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling you had in your gut. His words toying with your emotions.. Not to mention your own intrusive thoughts aiding in the tug back of the own confidence you barely had.
“Alright, Seulgi, it's your time. Center stage, and you’ll be performing-”
“Papillons, I know I know.” Her voice visibly annoyed the man.
“No. They mixed up the schedule. You’ll be performing ‘Stars In The Eyes’.” Speaking of eyes, hers roll up and to the side, groaning in frustration. “Ugh, why’d they cut mine short??”
“I’ll explain later. Go!”
The dancers backstage were allowed to admire the performer’s dances through the flat screen complimented in each dressing room. Your leg props up against the counter, bending over to slide on your white tights up.
Glancing up towards the clocking ticking on the wall, with each passing second you could feel your nervous crawling up the back of your throat. Or… maybe that was just the absence of morning’s breakfast.
Quickly walking over, you tap the instructor’s shoulder. He turns, fixing the headset crew members were required to wear. “Yeah, yeah what is it?”
“Uhm.. How many minutes do I have?”
He looks down, flipping a page over quickly before showing your name on the list.
“You’ve got thirty minutes.” You nod. “Thanks.” You make haste in tugging your gym bag over your shoulder before making your way through the emergency exit doors. Since competition had been in your hometown, you had no reason in the academy booking any hotels or airbnbs for the dancers to stay in. On the plus as well, you had also known the auditorium like the back of your hand. Knowing all of the ins and out-
“Shit!” You catch yourself on the asphalt, your plastic water bottle spilling for the second time this week. Stringing mumbled curses under your breath, you pick up your things quickly, heading back on your path to the break you’d been wanting.
Opening the door quietly to a pitch-black room, you set your stuff down in the corner, opening your music app to start rehearsing once again. One foot in front of the other, as you glide across the flat carpet of the meeting room, having no care in the world of where you were, or how silly you looked.
It had just been you, your frustration, Jimin, and the music.
Your eyes peek open, stopping the routine midway to see who’d been standing in the doorway. A shy smile curls his lips, as he sets down his matching gym bag next to yours.
“Your foot..” He starts, pulling up a chair to settle down in front of you. “Three, remember?”
You scoff, facing your torso a different way. Having no extra energy in dealing with his shit again.
“Crystal.” You retort, crossing your arms over your chest, stopping your little practice session. His head tilts to the side, eyebrow quirking in question. “Why’d you stop?”
“Oh, well I don’t really like the idea of my ex watching me dance. Privately.” You watch as a little sign of a smirk crosses his expression, as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet.
“I mean, if you want money I can-”
He chuckles, slipping the leather case back into place. “I thought it was ‘Mister Park’ to you?”
“It’s ‘get out of my face so I can practice’.”
He leans his head back from your tone, sucking in a breath. “Ouch..”
“Ouch!? That wasn’t even CLOSE to what YOU said TO ME.”
He rises from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. “I know, Y/n.. and I was out of line with that.. it ‘s just- you hurt me, because you were acting like you couldn’t trust me!”
You scoff, turning away from his view. “Yeah? Go cry about it to your girlfriend.”
His voice raises. “See!? That’s exactly what I’m talking about! You just won’t let it go, will you?!”
Spinning back around, you had a new goal set. “Let go of the fact that my boyfriend was still in love with his ex!? Yeah, kind of a hard fact to just let go of, Jimin.”
“For the last fucking time, Y/n! I’m in love with YOU!”
“Y..You’re.. What?” The new voice echoes through the silenced, blackened room. The two of you turn towards the doorway, seeing the new unannounced guest in the midst of your argument.
“N..Nayeon..” Your voice drowns. You could see the pain clearly written across her face, but she hides it with a fake, professional tone in her voice.
“Uhm- Miss Y/n, it’s your time..”
This had to be one of the most awkward conversations you’ve ever had to have. Even worse than the one time your mom tried to explain how babies were made.
Nayeon’s manicured nails tap lightly against the glass table, as she glances over between you and Jimin. Both sitting opposites of one another, a few feet away for good measure. It wasn’t until she had to break the silence, that you talk.
“So, .. what’s the story here?”
Your arms cross, twisting your body to face anywhere but him. He does the same. You end up facing the same direction.
“Ah, well I don’t think that two people who just screamed that they loved one another, have no story, wouldn’t you agree?”
Your eyes trail along Nayeon’s postured figure. Even down to her toes, she was all feminine and beautiful. She was the epitome of beauty. The curls in her naturally blackened locks frame her features perfectly. The rounds of her silver glasses sat effortlessly on the bridge of her nose, making her look that much more Goddess-like.
As in the words of Olivia Rodrigo; Jealousy, Jealousy.
She turns to face Jimin, flashing a quick, nurturing smile. The love she still blatantly had for him in her eyes, made your teeth grind with anger. Your fist clench together at the sight, watching as she places her palm onto the back of his hand.
“Jimin-ah? Tell me what happened.”
His eyes meet hers, as your own send daggers towards the both of them. Your heart ached silently at the sight. The gaze they both held, looked as if they’d been crafted for only each other.
They looked like the perfect couple.
You couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Well, this has been a blast, Nayeon. But I’ve got to go home now.” Rising abruptly with your hand slamming onto the table, you catch both of their attention. For the last time.
You turn around, being completely done with her ‘Miss Nicey pants’ act.
“No, you know what? I’m done listening to you, and you!” Your finger points towards Jimin. “Because you two obviously seem like the most perfect fucking couple to exist, and so just have at it! He’s all fucking, yours, Nayeon.”
Now it’s Jimin’s turn to protest in anger. He’s quick to meet your stance, challenging you. “No, YOU know what, Y/n?? I’m so fucking sick of you thinking that you know what’s best for OTHER people! Acting like you have the final say in who I want to love! In the end, you know NOTHING. So stop acting all high and mighty, because pride, my dear, doesn’t suit you.”
Nayeon’s eyes were blown as wide as a cartoon character. Her head whips back and forth between the two of you, until she doubles over in laughter.
Her strange behavior catches both of yours and Jimin’s attention, glancing over to where she’d been dying uncontrollably. “What’s so funny?”
“Y-You two! Ah- it-it’s like you’re! Ahaha- You’re a couple!”
Jimin’s eyes widened. “We.. were..”
Nayeon straightens her posture, finishing a few little bubbles of laughter before composing herself. “Ah, you guys are something else!”
“Okay, what the actual hell is going on here.” You butt in, wondering why she wasn’t angry that you basically stole her man.
“Y-Y/n, the only reason I wanted to ask Jimin back out on a date a while back, was to finally get the closure we needed. It wasn’t really even a date, really.”
Your head turns to the side, glancing at Jimin, who’s had his arms crossed and a ‘told you so’ look on his face for the past few minutes.
“But you said you wanted something to spark back up.. You wanted to try and get back together..”
She chuckles, shaking her head. “At first.. I mean, who can resist him, honestly? He’s an amazing dancer, teacher, and an awesome friend. Who wouldn’t fall for him?”
“Yeah, my point exactly.” You retort, not sure on where his unplanned ego boost is going.
“But,” She continued. “I realized that.. I wasn’t ready to settle back down quite yet. I mean, I guess I’m just not that type of woman.. and- when I found out how awful Jimin had been treating you in class-” She sends him a death glare quickly. His eyes roll, landing back onto you.
“I knew that something had been going on. And.. while the Academy might not condone it.. For reputation ideals.. I don’t really see a problem with you two being together. I mean, you’re both consenting adults and all that.” Jimin nods, concluding her speech.
“Apparently someone else had to drill it in far enough to get past her ego.” Jimin chuckles, making you nudge his side, a little more than just a playful gesture.
Nayeon chuckles, pointing towards the two of you. “See? I swear, now that I know the truth, you guys totally look like an old couple!”
You pull away from Jimin, shaking your head. “Okay, if you’re saying you don’t want him, then what about the kiss?”
“I told you. At first.. Yes, I did want him back. So I asked him out.”
Jimin chimes in. “And I declined, Y/n.”
“Very proudly, in fact. Well I mean..” Her eyes meet Jimin’s as he sends her a ‘don’t do it’ look.
“He showed me pictures of you.”
Your torso twists, eyes blowing wide at the information dump. “Are you crazy!? What if the Dean found out!? The other students!? How could you be so irresponsib-”
“Y/n, Y/n! Calm down, please! I didn’t tell anyone, and I would never do that to you or Jimin! When I saw how happy you two looked in the picture.. It just- well it reminded me of how he used to look at me. And, it was never as much as that.. To him, he was probably just going to be a friend.”
“Always will.” Jimin notes, commenting to make that sentence 100% stone.
“And nothing more, Y/n. I promise. So, I really do apologize for the kiss.. Even if we had dated previously, it was out of line for me. I’m sorry too, Jimin. I’m sorry for all of the trouble it has caused in your relationship.” Your lips part, letting out a gentle sigh.
“But you two.. You looked so happy together. Even now, you looked like the perfect couple..” Your eyebrows knit together, a somber look brushing your features. Jimin’s eyes roll back, bringing you closer to his side.
Nayeon lets out a chuckle, leaning against the street light post. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how many fights we had in just a three week period?”
Jimin nods, laughing along. “Like a million.”
Nayeon, strides closer, placing her perfectly manicured nails on your shoulder. “We were never meant to work out, Y/n. He never looked at me the way I saw him look at you..” Your head lifts, tilting up to catch Jimin’s soft gaze.
She shakes her head. “Didn’t, won’t, and will never.”
After you had to bid Nayeon a farewell, you had ended up sitting on the curb, outside of the auditorium after everyone had already emptied the seats. No car had been in sight. No noise was to be heard, other than the slight hum of mother nature and your heartbeat.
Jimin’s lips fall a short sigh, sliding closer to your side in hopes of catching your attention, instead of you being super-focused on a very interesting rock that had just been laying out in the grass patch.
News alert; it wasn’t interesting at all.
“You’re a real dummy, you know that?” His comment makes your head whip to the side, catching his eyes. “Yeah? Well, you need to make yourself more clear next time.” He chuckles, raising his voice in a playful manner.
“I tried! You were just too upset to stay and listen.”
You scoff. “Yeah, it’s really hard to stay and listen to the person who embarrassed the absolutely FUCK out of, infront of all the students!”
He sicks down in his spot, shamefully hanging his head low from embarrassment.
“I..was such a dick for that, Y/n..”
“The biggest.. Bigger than my own, ..and that’s hard to come by.” His comment earns himself a slight chuckle from your soft lips. He loved that sound.
“J-just because I laughed doesn’t mean you’re in the clear yet.”
He rises up, acting as if he was a kid on Christmas. “Yet? That means I still have a chance?”
You sigh, shrugging. “ Hmm.. depends on how well you make it up to me.”
In the split of a second, he’s hoisting you over his shoulder, lightly giving a small slap to your ass in the process.
“I’ve got a few ideas~” You let out a soft chuckle, gently hitting his ass every time he takes a step fainting protests and quiet screams, with no meaning behind them.
“Oh nooo.. Save meee, somebody”
His eyes roll, before he’s setting you down into the comfort of his Porsche.
“I swear, Jimin. People are going to think you’re rich or something.”
His lips come to press against your temple, smiling onto your forehead. “Rich in love, my dear.”
“How cheesy.”
»»————- ☁️ ————-««
Only took me a day to write and guys… 0__0 I wanna make one where they have babies and stuff but like I’m trying to restrain myself and it’s harddddd
