BTS YoonMin Imagines - Collection 1 [C]

Mirrors

Hello!

Back with another story yaaaaay!!

This one's a little shorter than the others sorry

MAJOR FLUFF WARNING

PLEASE DO NOT BE AFRAID TO SEND A REQUEST IM DYING HERE PEOPLE ;D

TRIGGER WARNING??

*In this story, Jimin will be very sensitive about his weight and how he looks. The dialogue may be a little difficult for some of you and if that is the case I truly, sincerely apologize*

For those sensitive about their weight and how they look, I want to say that YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND DON'T LET ANYONE TELL YOU DIFFERENT!! I have been through what you're going through and you're not alone 💜

YOU NEVER WALK ALONE

Enjoy!

Jimin:

It was three in the morning. The house was quiet. Crickets chirped outside. The beautiful, full moon was high in the sky. I wanted to be asleep like everyone else... but I couldn't.

I stood in the bathroom in front of the mirror, stripped of my shirt and pants. I stared at myself; my abs were starting to fade. My cheeks had started to puff out again. My arms weren't as large as before. My legs weren't as toned as they used to be. I frowned as I touched my stomach, the strong muscles turning into mush. I brought my hand up to run across my collarbone and I poked my cheek, feeling my jaw.

I didn't know I could be so disappointed in myself. I had worked so hard to get where I looked amazing, and I started to get lazy. I forgot to work out the night before and ate much more than I should have. I looked so awful; how could anyone want to look up to someone like me? How could anyone love me when I looked like this?

I let my hand drop to my side, continuing to stand in front of the mirror, taking in all my flaws and letting my insecurities get the best of me. I felt awful. I looked awful. I was awful. I don't think anyone hates me more than I hate myself.

"Jiminnie?" I jumped at the sound of Yoongi's tired voice on the other side of the door. My heart stopped as Yoongi slowly opened the door. He put his hands in his pockets as he leaned up against the doorframe. Now Yoongi... Yoongi was beautiful.

Yoongi's blonde hair was brushed out of his face to expose his glorious forehead. His hooded, brown eyes stared deep into mine making me feel all sorts of warm and fuzzy. His black sweatpants hung low on his hips, showing part of the elastic of his Calvin Klein underwear. His navy t-shirt fit nicely on his toned torso. And his face was warm; sympathetic.

Yoongi knows I am sensitive about how I look. He knows how much I have struggled over the years with refusing to eat and working myself so hard I end up in the hospital. He knows how I see myself and how much I despise my body. He tells me I'm beautiful every day, and he knows when I'm thinking the way I shouldn't.

I could feel myself relax when Yoongi came closer and pressed his chest up against my back. He let his lips gently touch the cartilage of my ear, making goosebumps form on my arms. I leaned backwards to mold my bare back into Yoongi's firm front, the warmth of his body making me forget what I was even thinking about. Yoongi wrapped his arms around my torso and held me close, his hands gently caressing my bare stomach. He leaned his brow bone against the side of my head, keeping eye contact with me in the mirror with no intention of stopping. I could only see half of his face, but I could still tell how serious he was starting to get.