We Got Married ( Park JiMin × Reader )

♡ EPISODE 1 ♡

( A/N : This whole chapter will be based on the viewer's ( my ) POV. Also, early warning, there will be a whole lot of fangirling and maybe even cursing. *Smiles innocently* )

Viewer's POV

"Sis! It's starting soon! Forget your boyfriend and come!" I shouted at my sister earning a loud groan from her. She sighed deeply as she walked towards my room and said "The things I do for my biases. Can't believe I'm ditching my boyfriend just for this. He most probably thinks I'm cheating." She said angrily making me laugh my ass off. "Time for some crazy fangirling session." I giggled as I turned on the TV. The both of us went silent and focused on the show.

A female I assumed was Y/N showed up on screen with a blurred out face. "Ah... Ottokhe? I feel nervous. My palms are sweating." Said the singer as she fiddled with her fingers. Her face was then shown and there stood Y/N in a white and black striped jersey, dark blue skinny jeans, white converse, and a black snapback lying on the top of her braided soft brown hair. "How does a person look so good wearing those clothes? I look like shit in them." I complained. "I know right." My sister grinned.

Another scene appeared on screen showing a guy whom I was sure was Jimin. Only HE had that outstanding figure and well, height. "Is she here yet? I hope I'm earlier than her. I can't lose to a female." He chuckled. "His laugh lights up my world." My sister fell backwards onto my bed. "Guess you're boyfriend's got competition." I smirked as she got up and gave me a glare.

I looked back at the screen to find Jimin in a plain white shirt, black skinny jeans, timberlands, and a grey snapback. "Look at those thighs! And how is he so freaking perfect?! Even my boyfriend doesn't look as good as him in those type of clothes." My sister screamed into my ear. She literally just chose Jimin over her own boyfriend that she had tried to win over for like 5 years. "Sheesh. Keep it down, could you? I only want to listen to their angelic voices and not your broken voice." I covered my ears. "It's not my fault I have a sore throat." She defended and crossed her arms.