Jiyong lifts your daughter, pulling her up to rest on his hip, her eyes scanning the shelf of candy in front of her.
‘Which ones do you want, princess?’ He asks her, swaying her backwards and forwards.
‘How many can I have?’ She casts her round, almond eyes at him, blinking her butterfly eyelashes.
‘As many as you want.’ He chuckles, his lips dusting her forehead.
‘No, Ji…,’ You warn him sternly, your hand coming to rest gently on his bicep. ‘She will make you buy the whole shelf.’ He shrugs ambivalently at you, a single eyebrow dancing upwards.
‘Yeobo, let me spoil her, huh? I haven’t spent time with her in two weeks…’ You shake your head, knowing that not matter what you said, your daughter would get what she wanted from her father. Her four year old self was the apple of his eye.
‘I want that one.’ Your daughter points to a coffee chocolate bar, and Jiyong reaches for it, slightly taken aback.
‘You picked this one? Do you know what it is, Jaeeun?’ His asks curiously as his hand wraps around it, bringing it closer to her face.
‘Yes. It’s coffee and chocolate together.’ She replies with confidence. Jiyong’s eyes furrow in confusion.
‘But Jaeeun, you don’t eat coffee, huh?’ The bar hovers in front of her.
‘I know. But I thought about Mummy. You didn’t say you would buy her one, and I wanted to get her that one because it is her favourite.’ She blinks at him as if her decision was the most obvious thing in the world. Your husband nods in knowing, a pleased smile spreading on his face, mimicking the pleasant feeling inside your heart.
‘Ahhh, my daughter.’ He sighs contently, pressing his lips against her cheek. ‘You have such a kind heart.’ She squiggles against his kiss.
‘Not you. You forgot Mum.’ If there was one thing your daughter had inherited from your husband, it was his confidence. She was never one to let her voice go unheard.
‘I didn’t forget.,’ Jiyong states calmly. ‘I was helping you pick first.’
‘But Mummy needs help too, and sometimes you don’t help her… like when she asks you to wash the dishes.’
‘Jaeeun, pick some candy, huh? We’re going to be late to see Uncle Youngbae.’ You press her into a decision, and she picks another candy bar, wrapped delicately in a pink wrapper. Jiyong reaches for it, clutching it in his hand.
‘That one is for Uncle Bae. He likes strawberries. And Dad, you can have… the same one as me.’ She pauses, contemplating the choices, before pointing to Jiyong’s favourite - a mint chocolate bar. He adds two of them quickly to his now stretched fist.
‘Good choice, Jaeeun!’ He nods in pleasure, before dropping her slowly down from his hip, handing her two of the candy bars to carry. She toddles straight to the counter, her balance perfect as her hands wave the candy bars excitedly. Jiyong had picked her outfit today - black skinny jeans tucked into her miniature doc marten boots and a blue and white striped t shirt peeking out from under a green army coat. The coat waggled after her, and you noted the content look on your husbands face, satisfied with his wardrobe decision. You both followed her to the counter, Jiyong taking it upon himself to lift her up so she was able to place the chocolate on top of it. He adds his two, smiling at the old woman behind the counter.
‘How many are there?’ He asks her, his English twinged thickly with an accent. Despite his lack of complete fluency, Jiyong made every effort to immerse your daughter in English. It was something you were both trying to do - talk to her in English, so she became bilingual quickly. Her Korean had inexplicably developed far more rapidly than you’d expected, and she was sometimes still mixing her words when she spoke in English. As your parents only spoke English, it was important to you that she became fluent in your native language as well. Her face furrowed in concentration as she counted.
‘One, two, three… sa!’ She giggled in glee, knowing the annoyance the Korean would bring to her father.
‘Yah, Jaeeun… Am I speaking Korean?’ He presses gently, tickling her in a non-aggressive fashion.
‘Dad, I want to give the lady the money…’ She switches back to Korean, holding her hand open, palm flat for Jiyong to place money in. He reached into his back pocket, balancing your daughter carefully on his hip.
‘Okay, Okay. Wait a minute, huh, princess.’
‘Oh, wow. Your Korean is very good!’ The woman behind the counter comments happily as she begins scanning the items, the smile on her face crinkling her eyes. You can see Jiyong’s body tense instinctively, his movement for his wallet pausing in a split second.
‘Of course it is.,’ Your daughter comments confidently. ‘I’m Korean.’ Her statement is one of fact. Jiyong continues to withdraw his wallet, his movement strained slightly.
‘No you aren’t.’ The woman replies, her tone equally as confident. Jiyong’s head, which had been tilted slightly towards your daughter, snaps forward to look at the woman. If there is one thing he was sensitive about, it was the perception other Koreans had about his daughters race.
‘I am… I’m Korean.,’ Your daughters brow furrows slightly, confusion flooding her face. ‘My daddy always says…’
‘Look at your Mum. Look at you… You can’t be Korean.’ Despite her pleasant tone, her voice was becoming more forceful. Your daughters eyes begin to fill with tears, her face turning as they pooled in her wide set eyes.
‘Dad, am I Korean?’ She questions, her voice unsteady.
‘Of course you are, Jaeeun. This woman doesn’t know what she is talking about.’ He cuts in sharply.
‘Ji, let’s just go, huh? Youngbae is going to be waiting for us…’ You knew what was coming. The tension leaching from Jiyong’s body was becoming palpable. Your hands reach for your daughter, and Jiyong passes her to you willingly. Her face burrows into your scarf as you pull her into a hug, her wet tears mixing into the wool.
‘My daughter’s Korean isn’t good - it’s great, because its her first language.,’ His voice has become louder and more blusterous with anger, and your daughter retreats further into you, her tiny arms climbing inside your coat. You cradle her, turning away from Jiyong and the woman. ‘You, though, have an extremely narrow minded view of the world. Of course my daughter is Korean. She has lived here her entire life and has only left the country twice.’
‘But…’ The woman, taken aback by Jiyong’s confrontation, opens her mouth in an attempted rebuttal.
‘No buts. She is Korean. Who the hell are you to say she isn’t and upset her?,’ He opens his wallet, removing a few bills of cash. You catch them out of the corner of your eye, a handful of hundred thousand weon notes. ‘Keep the change. Use it to buy some damn empathy, huh?’ He flicks the notes onto the counter roughly, his fist in an easy swoop, before turning to stalk out of the store. You follow him, your daughter still clinging to you, her face not showing. You coo gently in an attempt to encourage her out.
‘Jaeeun? Are you okay?’ You switch to Korean in an effort to console her, your voice nervously stumbling over the syllables you could usually pronounce without effort. Her head shakes a negative response. Jiyong continues his rapid pace, his long, thin legs carrying him quicker than you could keep step with. He stops abruptly, his body coming to a halt just in front of you. You pause, approaching him. ‘Ji, slow down, huh? I can’t keep up.’ He turns, his head shaking is disbelief, collecting a deep breath.
‘Sorry, I’m just…,’ He huffs, unable to articulate his words correctly. Your head nods down to your daughter, to draw his attention to her distress. His eyes close, his face crinkling to draw inner strength.
‘Jaeeun-ah.,’ He steps forward, his voice low in comfort. ‘Daddy’s not mad at you, huh? You know that right?’ Her small head peaks out from the grooves of your scarf, eyeing Jiyong suspiciously.
‘I don’t know.,’ She replies honestly. ‘I’m confused.’ Jiyong lets out a lengthy sigh, before offering his arms to your daughter. She twists, shifting her weight into him so he was able to swing her onto the ground, allowing her to come to a standing position. She turns to face him, and he bends on his knees to crouch down to her level. His hands clutch her shoulders gently.
‘I’m not angry with you at all. I’m angry at that woman. You did nothing wrong, okay?,’ His hands smooth down her arms, coming to clutch her tiny hands. ‘She was being very rude to you, and when someone is rude to you that makes me angry. No one should be allowed to make you feel bad by being rude to you. Ever. Do you understand that?’ Your daughter blinks her wet lashes at her father, a small nod coming from her head.
‘Why did she say that I’m not Korean? You always told me that I am Korean.’ Her brows furrow, confusion threaded over her face. You can’t bare to look at her, so your eyes flick to Jiyong. To his credit, his face remains staunchly calm.
‘Some people think that if your Mum or Dad is from a different country, you can’t be Korean.,’ He responds. ‘But those people are just stupid. When they say that you aren’t Korean, you have to tell them they’re stupid, okay? In your biggest, loudest voice.’ His fingers reach up to nip her cheek in a pinch, and she giggles excitedly.
‘I can call them stupid?’ Both her eyebrows arch in surprise.
‘You can. I’m going to let you say that to them, but only them okay? I don’t want to hear you calling anyone else stupid.’ She nods her head in understanding, her little secret agreement between her father and her bringing a widening grin to her face.
‘I won’t. I promise. But she was stupid!’ She shakes her hands, unable to calm her physical excitement at saying the world. A deep chuckle rumbles from Jiyong’s throat.
‘Who loves you?’ Jiyong asks, kissing his palm and balling his hand, holding his clenched fist out for Jaeeun. She leans forward, and he opens his palm, pressing it into her exposed, plump cheek. His fingers burst into movement, dancing down her neck to tickle her. It was their secret greeting. You’d had no idea where it had originated from, but they both adored it.
‘You do.’ She giggles happily, her shoulders shrugging up to avoid his fingers.
‘I do.,’ He pauses, looking at her, his hand cradling her face. ‘Come give me a hug, my Korean princess.’ She moves quickly into him, slotting easily between his crouched knees as her hands reached up to wrap around his neck. He pulls her close, lifting her feet slightly off the ground with the power of his hug. He holds her, longer than usual, the emotion he was feeling seeping through him. He settles her down again, his arms still holding her, but loosening slightly to allow her to step back.
‘Are you sad, Daddy?’ She questions as she studies his face.
‘A little bit.,’ He answers truthfully. ‘I don’t like it when people make you upset or when you cry.’ Her hands reach up to his face, squishing his cheeks to purse his lips. She leans forward, mushing her lips into his happily, planting a loving kiss on them.
‘I’m not sad anymore, Dad.,’ She says simply. ‘That lady was just stupid.’ She pushes his cheeks once more, before letting him go.
‘Ahh, my smart Jaeeun.’ He replies with a smile. She wiggles out of his arms, taking his hand.
‘Uncle Bae is waiting for us. Let’s hurry.’ She chugs him into motion, her legs thundering on the path as they break into a run. Jiyong stalls, his eyes flicking back to you to ensure you were following, hand reaching out to clasp yours excitedly, and you take it, running after them both.
A heavy sigh leaves his lips as he removes his t shirt, discarding it neatly into the wicker washing basket at the end of the bed. His head folds down, his hands running through his hair, haphazardly spraying the black strands in multiple directions. Despite his resolve in front of Jaeeun, it was obvious his mind was still lingering on the incident earlier in the day. You place your kindle on the beside table, peeking at him over the rim of your reading glasses. Jiyong had put Jaeeun to sleep hours ago. You’d watched him lay her onto the bed, the new stuffed unicorn from Youngbae taking up most of the space. He’d kissed her goodnight and told her she was beautiful, staying to let her hug his arm until she’d fallen asleep. He’d disappeared into the study shortly after and you hadn’t seen him since.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ You press lightly, eyes scanning him. His frame sinks lower, head bobbing further still.
‘No.,’ His answer is short and simple. He stands, deep in contemplation, and you throw back the covers, swinging your feed over the edge of the high bed frame. You pad your way to him, your silk sleep dress swishing against you lightly. You approach Jiyong, your arms wrapping warmly around his sunken body, your head coming to lay on his wide shoulder blades across the top of his back. ‘Do you think I scared her? I mean, she has never really seen me angry before.’
‘You didn’t scare her at all, Ji. She was just a bit confused. You didn’t do anything wrong.’ You murmur the words into his back, a kiss pressing against the bare skin of his tattooed neck, your lips tracing the lines of ink. Another sigh leaves him, and he sinks into your embrace. Throughout your relationship, you’d learned very early that Jiyong was much more sensitive than he let on. It was one of the most endearing traits about him. However, you understood how hard it was for him to grapple with the copious amounts of empathy he felt for others. He’d often wear their struggles longer than they would. ‘You saw her with Youngbae… She was over the moon. I doubt she is even going to remember it tomorrow.’
‘I know she seemed okay… I just got so angry about it I couldn’t control myself. I can’t stop thinking about how easily that woman shot her down. I want her to have confidence and we’ve both worked so hard to surround her with positive influences. It’s upsetting that in one second someone can say something so casually and it can have such a big impact on her. How could she say that to our child?’ You cradle him, rocking gently back and forward, your head resting on him.
‘We can’t protect her forever.’ Your response seems simple, and he chuckles slightly at your words.
‘You mean I can’t lock her in a tower away from the rest of the world?,’ He shifts your arms gently, his palms pressing to open your hands. He turns, coming to face you, his arms connecting around your body. He meets your eyes, carefully considering your face. ‘It’s not that I want to do that. It’s just I know people are going to see her as less of a person because she’s only half Korean. I know what the lady meant when she was saying she wasn’t Korean. She was saying she wasn’t good enough to be Korean. It made me upset… It made me really, really angry that someone could say that to my daughter. If people say things like that to her, she is going to start doubting herself.’ Your hand reaches up to cup his face, drawing it close to you for a sweet, lingering kiss. The amount of love Jiyong had for your daughter was boundless, and it was something you found intensely attractive.
‘I know, Ji. I know it’s hard. I didn’t know what to say when it happened because I was angry too. It’s difficult, and her life will be difficult. I can’t deny that. But we’re teaching Jaeeun to be a strong, thoughtful, caring person. That’s all we can do. Maybe she won’t get angry about this kind of stuff, but simply feel sorry for people who were taught such a narrow minded view.,’ You kiss his lips again, the fluffy cushion pressing against you with more vigour. ‘I know she has an amazing father that is going to fight for her whenever she needs it. I know she is going to be just as sympathetic and have the same amount of empathy as he does. I can already see it in her, Ji. We don’t have to worry about her.’
‘You’re right.,’ He nods, his gaze shifting off you. ‘You’re totally right. I just hate seeing her upset.’ He shakes his head to snap out of his daze.
‘You wouldn’t be a good father if you didn’t, and it’s one of the reasons she loves you and trusts you as much as she does.,’ Your hand reaches to his face, cupping his cheek to stroke your thumb across it. ‘And one of the reasons I love you as much as I do, too.’ He leans forward, enveloping you in a long, drawn out kiss. His lips rub softly against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth. His hands slip low over your hips, coming to cradle the rounded cheeks of your bum. His kiss continues, building in passion.
‘Daddy… Mummy…’ Your daughters voice shatters the moment, calling from behind the closed door. Jiyong breaks apart, his shoulders sagging in disappointment.
‘Damn it… that was going somewhere.,’ He let’s out a low sigh, breaking from your hug. ‘Yes, princess?’ He calls.
‘Daddy?’ She calls again. Jiyong walks quickly to the door, peeling it open.
‘What is it, Jaeeun? You’re meant to be sleeping…’ His voice trails off when he sees her, her own face quivering as their eyes meet, her wet cheeks flooding with more tears.
‘I… I had… I had… a dream… and the… unicorn… died.’ Jiyong sweeps her up in his arms, her wet cheeks burying against his skin.
‘It’s alright, Jaeeun. It’s still there in your bed, huh?’ He coos to comfort her.
‘Daddy… I’m scared.’ She manages to splutter out. Jiyong bumps her gently up and down, shifting to the bed as he attempted to ease her worry.
‘That’s okay, princess. You can sleep here with us.’ You couldn’t fault his suggestion. Your daughter was rarely scared, and for the most part slept through the night. For her to be this upset was unusual. With his free hand, he threw back the covers, before gently laying her down between the crisp whiteness of the Egyptian cotton sheets. She let out a groan, holding her arms out to desperately to Jiyong as he let her go.
‘Daddy, no… You have to stay.’
‘I know, Princess. I’m just getting into bed.,’ He climbs next to her, snuggling himself up to her, and she accepts his hug gratefully. ‘Do you want Mummy to join us too?’ He suggested, his fingers sweeping over Jaeeun’s face to wipe the tears off her eyes. Your daughter nods eagerly, sitting up slightly to encourage you into the bed.
‘Come on, Mummy.’ Her voice is still croaky from her tears. You oblige her request, walking to the other side of the bed. You adjust the covers over both your daughter and husband, pulling them up to their necks, before peeling back the corner of your own side of the bed. It was spacious enough, and Jaeeun was small enough, that her presence made no difference to your comfort. However, you found Jiyong shifting closer to you and sandwiching your daughter between you. She rotates slightly, her sleepy head curling into your shoulder while her arm reaches back to touch her father. Her face is full of innocence and you again can’t help but think how a complete stranger could have been so forceful with her today.
‘Good night, Princess.’ You whisper to her. She leans forward, her lips pressing into yours in a goodnight kiss.
Song that plays on the radio: Ed Sheeran, Even My Dad Does Sometimes
Being one of BTS’s makeup artist had its pros and cons as every other job. On one hand, you got to be very close to 7 men you had adored for years, spending some days locked in a small room with heavy lightning and chairs, putting makeup on them all. On another hand; you spend some days locked in a small room alone with 7 beautiful, talented and kind idols.
Your job required you to stand face to face with Bangtan, with only a few centimetres in between you and whoever you were putting makeup on. The boys were quite fond of you. They always asked how your day had been, complementing your outfit and always saying thank you after you were done with their makeup followed by a bow. You had also grown quite close to the members, especially Jimin with the two of you being around the same age. Jimin had been one of the first to get to know you. Even though he was either exhausted or preparing to go on stage he always talked to you. Telling you small jokes to make you giggle or telling you about an amazing restaurant nearby. He once said, it was too bad they only stayed in a certain city for one night; otherwise, he would have taken you to an amusement park he had been in when he was younger. You weren’t sure if you understood it correctly. But it sounded like a date. But, why would a perfect idol want to ask you out? Why would he want a makeup artist that didn’t even make the half that he did?
Your long train of thoughts got interrupted by a small knock on your door. Your manager peeked inside and saw you standing ready. “Oh great Y/N you’re already ready, the guys have just gotten into their clothes. They’ll come any minute now” he informed you. You gave him thumbs up as he closed and disappeared behind the door again. Tonight was the night Bangtan was performing in Anaheim and everything had to be perfect. Namjoon had been training few English phrases to the rest of Bangtan so they could introduce themselves on stage.
Outside the door, you could hear footsteps getting closer and voices talking. The first voice you could recognise was a very deep voice that could only belong to Taehyung, or V, as he was known on stage. And right to your assumptions, his face with his big boxy smile was the first to enter the door. “Y/n!” He smiled as he waved his hands.“Hi” You giggled leading him towards the first makeup chair. He looked into the mirror and began messing with his hair. “No no no, Taehyung how many times must I tell you. Don’t touch your hair” you slapped his fingers away from his hair, smiling. “I know” he sighed and leant back in his chair. Without noticing Namjoon and Hoseok had also entered the room, sitting down in two chairs waiting for their turn. You started applying a moisturiser and a primer to Taehyung face. That’s when you noticed the discolouring under Taehyung’s eyes. And unlike usually, he didn’t close his eyes when you started touching his face. He looked at you, studying your hair and skin. That’s when you also noticed the fact his eyes were slightly redder than usual. This was all very weird. “Taehyung, are you okay?” You asked him slowly as you began dapping on a BB cream. He looked down onto his fingers placed in his lab. “Hm-mm” he nodded not very convincing. “Are you tired?” you asked him once again. You started focusing on his brows filling them in with dark brown to match his hair. “Yeah, I didn’t really sleep as much tonight. Nerves, I guess” He said slowly. Not wanting to interrogate the poor man any further, you dropped the topic and just focused on his eye makeup. He didn’t require much, just a simple dark grey and brown eyeshadow and he was good to go. He looked into the mirror and gave an unsure smile. “Do I look good?” He asked looking up at you. You giggled. “Yes Tae you do, now send in another one of the guys while I begin on Namjoon okay?” you answered him giving his shoulder a quick comforting squeeze as he walked out of the door. Something was defiantly up with him. You turned around and began working on Namjoon. He was on his phone scrolling through twitter. He had already popped in his contact lenses making his eyes light blue as the sky. Judging by Namjoon’s silence, there was also something up with him. “You nervous as well?” You asked breaking the silence. You started with a concealer on Namjoon to make his skin as flawless as possible. “Yeah” He began, thinking over his next words. “I don’t know, it’s the whole Jimin thing you know?”
You knew what he was talking about. Some random girl on twitter had been lashing out on Jimin, giving him death threats. And tonight was the night. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been reading her tweets over and over, again and again. They kept on haunting you, you started dreaming about what would happen. If he did get shot, perhaps fatally, he would never know how you felt about him. How everything you saw reminded you somehow about him. You knew he would never feel the same about you, that’s why you’d been keeping your feelings secret.
“I just feel like as a leader I should be saying something, as his friend I should be saying something. But PD has told us to keep shut. But I just–, aish” He couldn’t finish his sentence. You tinted his lips while nodding slightly. “I know what you mean” You wanted to comfort Namjoon, but you could barely comfort yourself. How were you supposed to comfort another? You finished his makeup quickly. He stood up and looked at you. Seconds passed where you both just stared at each other. “Be careful out there alright?” you said. “Security is tightened I know, but still…” Namjoon gave you a reassuring smile. “We are called bulletproof for a reason y/n, don’t worry you’ll get to take my makeup off tonight and put on new tomorrow” and with that comment, he walked out of the room calling in Yoongi. You switched on working on Hoseok, Yoongi, Jin and Jungkook and before you knew it you only needed to do Jimin’s makeup.
“Jin can you please find Jimin and send him in for me?” you asked Jin. He left you alone in the room as you started cleaning brushes. Your heart was in your throat, should you tell Jimin how you felt? What if something happens? What colour of flowers should you buy? Would you even be invited to the funeral? Your mind was filled with bad thoughts and almost didn’t hear when the door opened and closed behind you. You turned around with your eyes stinging from holding back tears. There he was. Park Jimin. He was wearing tight black jeans with holes in the knees. Black t-shirt with a blue and white striped shirt over. He looked effortlessly beautiful. He stared directly at you and you prayed he wouldn’t notice your reddening eyes. You patted the chair he should sit in, and without saying a word he sat down and looked into the mirror. It felt like time was on double speed. No matter how slow you tried to put on his makeup, there wasn’t enough time. Someone was stealing him away from you, and you could barely hold yourself together. He followed you with his dark brown eyes. Your cheeks were a bit flushed, so was the tip of your nose. You concentrated on applying his face makeup, you didn’t even notice his staring. Did you even know how crazy he was about you? How many times he had tried asking you out, but you haven’t gotten the hint. Not being able to stay in silence with him you turned on the radio. It was a quiet song that started to play. A soft voice was singing, a guitar and piano harmonising. You patted with your fingertips concealer under his eyes. Carefully you lined his waterlines, applied a pinkish lip tint to his bottom lip. He looked so stunning.
You swallowed and took a step back looking at him. “I think I’m done” He looked into the mirror and chuckled. “You’ve done it again y/n, thank you so much” he stood up from the chair and gave you a bow. “It’s my job…” you sighed. You turned away from him and found yourself cleaning brushes again, not being able to look him in the eyes. His beautiful dark brown eyes. Jimin appeared behind you and you gasped as you made eye contact in the mirror. He stood silently behind you, looking at your every move. He followed your eyes when they landed on him. “Wait, aish I’m sorry y/n I forgot to put my contacts in!” He exclaimed suddenly making you jump. “Arh Jimin! They’re so hard getting in without messing up the makeup. Be careful, do you have the lenses with you?” You asked turning around facing him. He stood quite close to you, so close you could feel his breath tickling your face. Jimin took up a small box from the back of his pants. You moved out of the way so he was closer to the mirror. He started slowly pulling his under eye down, making you bite your lip. There wasn’t enough time to re-do his eye makeup before the stage opened. Jimin held his breath as he brought the lens closer and closer to his eye. For a moment you thought he was going to get it in, but his reflexes got the better of him and he blinked last minute making the lens falling out and smudging the lower waterline. He tried again. His finger got closer and closer to his eye, but once again last minute he blinked.
He sighed hopelessly and looked down, positioning the lens again on the tip of his finger. “I’m usually better at this… I just can’t make myself relax” he mumbled quietly. “Here,” You said pushing his chest down so he would sit in the makeup chair. “Let me try” you suggested as you placed the lens on top of your own finger. Jimin nodded and felt electricity run through him when your fingers touched. His heart beating a bit faster and looked at you with big eyes. You held your breath as you pulled down his eye to make room for the contact lens. You felt Jimin doing the same. Getting your finger closer and closer to his eye you thought for a moment you were gonna make it, but last minute the lens jumped off your finger and landed on his cheeks. You both giggled as you swept the lens away. “I just have to get the right angle” you smiled. “Try standing on my other side” Jimin suggested. Standing on his right side was even harder and this time the lens didn’t even come close to his eye. Jimin had to get his green contacts in, he had to. “Oh well, third time is luck’s time,” Jimin said encouraging as you stood in front of him. You bend slightly down on your knees trying to get at eye level with him. This time the lens touched his eye but as soon as he blinked it came out again.
“This is going to sound awkward but what if you sat on me? I mean, only for a short time, and just so you could get the lens in. I didn’t mean anything by it just–”
“No let’s try it, you have to wear them” You interrupted his awkward rambling chuckling at his cuteness. He looked surprised for a moment, having his eyebrows raising. But nonetheless, he spread his thighs making room for you to sit on. Hesitating, you put a hand on his shoulder and placed yourself on his lap. Jimin’s hands moved up to your thighs slowly to make sure you kept your balance. You had never been this close to him before. Not while you were alone together. He looked into your eyes for a moment. Neither of you did anything but looking deeply into each other eyes. Your heart was beating faster. Still having a hand on his shoulder you moved it to open his eye. Then you brought the green lens closer, and closer until it touched his eyes and it sank into his iris changing his eye colour an instant. You both smiled relieved. “Finally” Jimin laughed looking at you. “One to go” You smiled back. You gripped the container on the desk behind you and took out the other lens. You took a deep breath and placed it on your finger. You leant closer to him. His hands that had been placed on the top of your thighs, moved up to your waist. You stopped breathing. Was he aware of where he was keeping his hands? or was it a coincidence? Keeping your focus, you moved the lens closer to his eye and like the last one, it fitted into his iris perfectly.
You leant back slightly looking into his green eyes. Beautifull. Jimin kept his hands at your waist, not wanting to let you go. He wanted nothing more than to have you on his lap with his arms around you for the rest of his days. You didn’t try move away either, just enjoying the movement. “Jimin?” “Yeah?”
Silence filled the room again, as you looked down on your hands nervously. “Y/n?” “Yeah?” you looked at him again. His body was warm against yours. He smelled cleaned, of new laundry and his perfume. His light pink hair fitted him so perfect, his outfit was perfect and his voice was warming something deeply inside of you. That’s when you felt it. Something cold running slowly down your cheek. A tear. No. Many tears. “Y/n, y/n hey - what’s wrong why are you crying? hey - come here” Jimin said worryingly as he pulled you into his chest. You sobbed into his chest uncontrollably. He held one hand around your waist, the other on at you shoulder holding you close. “Jimin, why aren’t you nervous? How can you go on stage tonight?” You cried into him, shaking.
“Y/n, nothing is going to happen. You know this deeply inside. People write a lot on the internet - okay? Why do you worry about me?” He asked as he pulled you away slightly so he could look into your eyes. He wasn’t worth crying over, it could defiantly not be him you were crying over. “Because, I, I like you Jimin. And - I’m so scared something is going to happen to you” You sniffled trying to pull yourself together, failing miserably. Jimin couldn’t believe his own ears. Were you confessing to him? “You like me?” “YES! Jimin! I love you, and I know you will never love me. I would never forgive myself if I never confessed to you and you died”
Jimin placed quickly his hands on either side of your face and pulled your lips against his own. He kissed you with so much passion you stopped crying immediately. You kissed him back.
“I. love. you. too.” Jimin said in between kissing you. “I love you so much, you have no idea how much I love you,” He said resting his forehead against yours. He ran his hands up and down your thighs. “Y/n, I promise you nothing is going to happen. I promise” He whispered. You nodded slightly. “I have to go, they’re starting up. I love you. Let me prove how much after the concert. Okay?” He said giving you a kiss. Once again you nodded as you stood up from his lap. He walked towards the door and opened it. But before he stepped out he kissed you on the lips, longer than the kiss before. And then he stepped out of the door, closing it behind him.
This concert was gonna be 2 hours of living hell for you.
Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed please leave a like, reblog and follow me. Have a good day <3
A/N:So this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written/posted. I’ve always said that if I were to ever write, I would never write about real people, and yet I couldn’t get this out of my head and just needed to write it down and put it out there. Because of this, Tom may not always actually act like Tom, and Harrison may not always actually act like Harrison–I mean, it’s not like I know them in real life! (Part of me thinks that at some point I’ll edit this and change the names, but for now it is our favorite web-slinging actor and his loyal buddy.) This is set up as a multi-part story, and I have an idea of where it would go, but I honestly have no idea whether I’ll actually continue it. Also, I’ve never actually been to Vegas, so I’m sure quite a bit of this is inaccurate. But yeah, enjoy, I guess!
[Y/N] = Your Name (duh)
[Y/B/F/N] = Your Best Friend’s Name
You’d never thought much about how you’d get married.
You knew it would happen–or at least, you wanted it to happen–but you’d never been preoccupied with the details. In school, while the other girls planned and acted out their pretend playground weddings, you were swinging on the monkey bars and catching grasshoppers in water bottles. While your friends now, one-by-one, began to get engaged and get married themselves, you buried yourself in your classes or your work or whatever else was going on in your life at the time. It would happen when it would happen, and you would know (or at least force yourself to decide) what to do then. You didn’t know how many bridesmaids you wanted, or if you even wanted any bridesmaids at all. You didn’t know if it would be a big church wedding, or just a small ceremony at City Hall. DJ or band, traditional vows or self-written ones, you had no clue.
What you did know, however, was that it was not supposed to be like this.
Summary: Everyday, every night, you always feel like you’re not good enough. Over years of comparing yourself to others and bringing yourself down it had all gone to your head, wrapping yourself in insecurities. You always dealt with it alone since you didn’t want to feel like a burden, but one day, someone made sure that you didn’t have to deal with it on your own. He wanted to make you see that it was possible to Love Yourself. Even if that meant loving you himself.
Word Count: 2076
“Hey honey, how was your day?” Your mum asked you as you walked in through your front door. You took your shoes off and hung up your rain coat. It hadn’t been much of a summer this year, it was mostly raining so you couldn’t go out and do much, not that you could in the first place since you had been working basically every week day.