Our Girl I TaeJin

4 [Sushi]

I published this story with a 2 chapter buffer... that's gone already ☺️

Note-

(Y/n) has a bit of split-ish personality in this fic (not in a mentally ill way). Around Jin/Tae she is bashful and shy, but around others/Jimin she is witty and sassy.

Her boys make her soft

*This will help the the mood changes in this fic make sense

{unedited}

>>.<<

"... And then I was like, 'Bitch, that ain't gonna fit!' and he was like 'Don't worry, baby, we'll make it fit—' anyway, it took a little work by we finally managed to get it in—"

"Oh my god, Jimin! Stop!"

You cry, cradling your face in your hands, "Why are you telling me about your first BBC while we're at work?!"

He shrugs casually like he didn't just mentally scar you for life.

"'Cause I'm bored!" he whines, "God I can't wait for happy hour."

You scoff, beginning to type again on your laptop. The article about recent protests of mandatory military service in several Asian countries, which you had been attempting to write for the better part of two hours, was barely a paragraph long.

And all thanks to your monumentally distracting deskmate—yes, your deskmate is, the one and only, Park Jimin. (He himself was supposed to be writing his own article about the several male idols who recently finished their service with the military, but he's pretty much just wrote 'G-Daddy is back on the scene!' and gave up working for the day.)

Where the two of you work is admittedly an open and essentially an upbeat office environment. The online news outlet covers all type of topics, from gossip and celebrity rags to political issues to cooking gluten-free biscuits for your dog (...what?). Anyway...

For the most part, individuals who reported on the same general topics sat together. The food writers sat with the food writers, the social justice writers sat with the social justice writers, etc. So, how did you, a cultural/political affairs columnist, end up sharing a desk with Jimin, a pop culture correspondent?

Simple!

Because Park Jimin runs that damn office. Your boss—a closet gay, or at least bi, you aren't quite sure—is completely whipped for your best friend. All the silver haired boy has to do is flash his giant puppy-dog eyes and the drooling man gives him whatever he wants. Hence why the two of you are seated next to one another despite the standard office norms.

Jimin suddenly gasps and leans over his desk as far as he can, "Will you please go out with me after work? Please, please, please, please? We can start off at that hipster dive bar down the block that smells like dank weed and Fritos then hit up some other places nearby."

You sigh, "You really want to go on a bar crawl in broad daylight?"

He nods excitedly, "We'll be so drunk we won't be able to remember our names by 5pm! Maybe pick up some rando-s to take home."

"I thought you told me to stop with the promiscuity," you raise your brow, "Like, two days ago."

"Bitch, not all atonce," he says like it's obvious, "You've gotta wean yourself off the D before settling for monogamy... well, I guess in your case you'd get two dicks for the rest of your life, but still it's the same dicks over and over—"

"Jimin!" you hiss angrily.

Luckily, you'd managed to shut up the foul mouthed boy just as your boss was making his way around the office. Actually, he was really making a beeline through the office to get to Jimin; the handsome older man had a daily habit of checking in and drool over your friend at least four to five times per day.