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deeafrotailmisstress · 7 years

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The Inevitable - Part 5

((What be this?! Dee is writing again?!! Haha...yeah, I kinda got put off due to recent events and it’s Raz’s fault ‘cause her guild events are too good and the list could go on but! I got inspired again! And I’m now gonna try to jump in the writing train, choochoo!))

Shout out to @flynneware for proof-reading this, she is the bomb and you all should check out her writing pieces too because they too are the bomb. <3

Part 1 Part 2 Jazali’s letter Part 3 Part 4 Malinda’s letter (warning: contains NSFW content)

“Not gonna happen.”

Jazali’s left eye twitched,

“... Come again?”

Today was certainly not a day that Jazali felt she could look forward to. The little troll woke up at sunrise and ate some jerky for breakfast on the porch. She wandered around the shack at first since she couldn’t find the elf, but soon enough she saw her coming from across the path. Malinda didn’t say a word upon her arrival and simply went in, dumped bags of items she bought from the market onto the armchair before going out, and suddenly started to chop firewood. The little troll didn’t look like a person who would analyse a situation thoroughly, but in this case Jazali didn’t have to. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this elf would be the one who would train her, although the little Darkspear wouldn’t look forward to it, and the elf certainly didn’t take comfort with her company either.

But something just didn’t sit right to her. Surely Moki could have simply sent her to a Pandaren monk who would be willing to train her in exchange for work? Granted they both had never been to Pandaria before and it might have been slightly inconvenient on the part of the mentor, but they seemed like gentle folk who were welcoming of outsiders in search of knowledge. So why did Moki choose this elf specifically?

In hopes of answering that question, Jazali walked up to the elf and casually asked when she would start her training her, to which the troll received the earlier response.

Jazali patiently crossed her arms and asked.

“An’ why are ya not gonna help me?” The night elf rolled her eyes, as if the troll asked her a question with the most obvious answer, before smashing her axe hard onto a log and deadpanning.

“I have neither the time, nor the crayons, to explain it to you kid. Now beat it.”

Jazali felt her eye twitch again and her fists clenched instinctively; this elf was really pushing it. However the Darkspear had to remind herself that Moki sent her to this place for a reason and this may be her second and only chance to prove herself, so after closing her eyes with a deep breath and a count to ten in her head, she glanced back up at the elf and growled.

“Dat ain’ a proper answer an’ ya know it.”

“I don’t care.” Malinda’s response was simple as she picked up a pile of wood and headed back into the shack.

“Ju ain’t even given me a chance elfie, an’ ya already tellin’ me no?”

“Look kid-”

“Jazali.”

“Gesundheit.” Malinda rolled her eyes again before slamming down her axe, this time hard enough for it to stick to the stump. She patted down her hands before she turned to address Jazali frankly. “You are in a giantass continent that practically invented the monk concept. So why doncha just run off to the closest Pandaren you can find and ask them for help. Maybe they can tolerate your obnoxious tone and do it work-free.”

With that, the night elf picked up the cut logs and headed to a shed next to one of the stables. Jazali, however, didn’t like the elf’s condescending tone and marched up behind her, not giving up.

“B-but…da lettah!” She waved her arms exasperatedly at Mal, who tried her hardest to ignore her as she opened the shed and nonchalantly threw the wood inside. “Ju got Moki’s lettah, so ju know he sent me here fo’ a reason!”

“I don’t care if that old fool thinks this will settle my debt; I am quite frankly not in the mood to train some loud-mouthed kid that suddenly got dumped on my doorstep.” Malinda replied snarkily with a piercing gaze at the smaller troll, who for a moment gaped in silence before her anger caught up to her.

“Okeh, first off!” Jazali growled, pointing a warning finger at Mal who didn’t look like she gave a Kodo’s ass in that moment “I ain’ a kid! Mah name be Jazali of da Darkspear an’ I wen’ through my rite of adulthood jus’ like erry’buddy else! An’ second, ju ain’ even givin’ me a valid excuse fo’ why u ain’ wantin’ ta train me. It be cuz I’m a troll?!”

Malinda finally had enough of this impudent child not listening to her and slammed the shed door very hard and loudly, enough to even make Jazali jolt and the hinges threaten to break. Finally, the Kal’dorei turned around and glared coldly at the troll, crossing her arms as she began her ‘valid’ explanation. “Quite frankly, yes. But if you want a valid excuse, how about I give you some. First off, your three toes already tell me that you have a lack of balance, which probably makes you fail at your current profession. And I’m not even going to start on that ridiculous tuft of a bush that you call hair, already sending me warning signals of your disorganisation. Secondly, from what I’ve heard from Moki and your attitude, you seem to lack the basic principles of maturity, dignity, propriety, sociability, and responsibility. Which is probably why for the majority of your life, I am going to deduce that people like you probably had to rely on someone, due to lacking a spine for independence.”

When Malinda saw Jazali’s jaw tense further, the troll’s eyes hidden as she tilted her head further down the more Mal ranted, the monk’s condescending sneer deepened.

She drawled. “Oh, not far off the truth am I? So for someone like ‘Jazali of da Darkspear’, after going through her rite of passage and mommy and daddy could no longer look after her, I’m going to guess that you used Moki as a scapegoat, probably why before this you have either been parading around with that old pathetic excuse of a druid your whole life or squandering your meager talents with a group of individuals who probably needed another meat shield… No surprise that you couldn’t stay in the tribe, considering that they all probably knew that you were the runt of the family, judging by your ridiculous height… or lack thereof. That good enough reason for ya?”

The response was more physical than verbal. In the sense that Jazali decided that whacking the hilt of her machete into Malinda’s jaw was an appropriate response. After the echoing sound of her weapon’s handle slamming into Malinda’s face, there was dead silence. Jazali stood there with a furious glare and a trembling mouth, while Malinda’s head tilted back, but her nonchalant expression still remained. If anything, the elf looked like she had just been bitten by a mosquito… and she now intended to squash it.

Through clenched teeth, Jazali hissed.

“I couldna’ give a flyin’ shit if ya wanna be callin’ me what errybody else been callin’ me lots o’ times befo’. But don’chu evah be callin’ mah friend dem names. He be ten times a druid than ju ever was a monk you elfy bitch, an’ I don’ give a shit if he t’inks ju ‘oughta be teachin’ me.”

The troll angrily sheathed her blade and spat at the ground beside Mal with pure disdain. “Screw d’is, I’m leavin’.”

Her hands formed into fists held stiffly by her sides, the little troll started to march away, fully prepared to get as far away from this bitchy-ass elfy as possible. Jazali didn’t really have a plan on what would happen after this, probably just go back to Zari and Bru, they’d always have a job opening for her. Would this piss off Moki? ...Probably, but screw what that old moo thinks! If he finds Malinda to be an appropriate teacher for her then he obviously has shitty tastes in teachers. Zari’yen and Brugran would probably give her a loan to train with somebody else… right?

Jaz would have continued with her huffy marching and train of thought… if she wasn’t stopped by Malinda. The little troll felt something suddenly yank back harshly on her cloak, choking her startled grunt. Jaz suddenly heard Malinda behind her.

“Rule number one while on my turf: don’t call me a bitch.”

Faster than she could say her own name, Jazali felt the whole world spin as Malinda used the cloak to slingshot Jaz and slam her face-down to the ground. The little hunter tried to brace her arms to protect her from most of the force, but found herself nearly knocked out and seeing stars.

As Malinda heard Jaz’s aching groans and watched her try to get up again; she let out a sniff and blew a stray strand of hair away from her face. “You’re determined, I’ll give ya that. But from what I saw, unless you’re willing to take this seriously, I’m not interested.”

“Ju… ain’t seen nothin yet.” Jazali hissed out, already on her two feet while holding her aching side with one arm, glaring scathingly at the elf. “‘Cuz ju now gonna pay fo’ dat.”

Malinda raised a brow at the stubborn troll; how curious. Her regeneration must be working at a faster rate than Mal had anticipated. Nonetheless, the night elf snorted and wagged her finger at Jazali in a ‘come and get it’ way as she smirked.

“I’d like to see you try.”

With a furious growl, Jazali blindly charged at the elf with a roar and a swing of her blade. But as soon as she had swung down, Jazali blinked when it seemed like the elf disappeared from her front view. When in reality, Malinda had simply seen that attack coming a mile away and dodged to Jazali’s right. The elf swiftly raised her leg up and kicked Jazali’s machete high into the air; the troll hurriedly barrel-rolled away and held her kicked hand with a grunt.

Malinda gracefully caught the weapon by the handle before it whirled down to the ground. Jazali hurriedly took out her other blade, her eyes now tinting with rageful red. The little troll snarled aggressively and tried to jab at Malinda’s guts, but the elf simply parried it away with Jazali’s first blade. It was like a circling dance of death; everytime Jazali tried to take a stab at Mal, the elf would simply parry it away again and await her next move.

Just when Malinda thought she’d better cut this boring battle quickly, anticipating Jazali stabbing her again, the little troll instead faked a jab with her blade and followed it with a hard punch to the elf’s face.

The only thing Malinda had time to do was quickly grab Jaz’s fist before she retracted it. The sudden blast of pain to her face was nothing new to Mal, but the force of that punch did make her shake her head a bit to brush off the dizzying pain. Well now. The kid could punch apparently.

No matter how much Jazali tried to pull her fist away, it wouldn’t budge. So instead the little troll roared and swung her sword toward Mal’s stomach, but Malinda simply grabbed that hand too after dropping the blade and twisted it so that the wrist snapped.

Jazali let out a painful cry and in a fit of rage and desperation, leapt up and clamped her teeth down onto Malinda’s neck.

“AAARH FUCK!” The night elf shouted out, feeling each sharp tooth like a hot blade into her skin. The elf furiously used Jaz’s hands in her grip to forcefully throw her off her person.

Jazali found herself being thrown again and rolling across the ground, but this time she quickly used her claws to clamp down onto the dirt and lean up on all threes, due to one of her wrists being broken, like a rabid feline. She even snarled like one as she glared up at Malinda from her crouching position, her eyes now a blood red and her hair released from its confines, giving her a wild mane look.

Malinda winced as she felt blood seep from her neck, but simply stretched it as she winced. “Aw hell…” ...Would Moki believe her if she claimed that his pupil berserked on her and hence that would be a good reason to knock her out?

Before Malinda could ponder that thought, Jazali’s rageful form launched at her, claws flailing. Malinda’s feet gathered mist in less than a second and the elf used it to push herself away just by a hair from the sharp nails of the troll.

Jazali’s savage state was relentless however and she let out a wordless bellow as she ran up to try and bite Malinda, but the elf simply used the mists beneath her feet to dodge her out the way. But what she didn’t anticipate was the sudden kick hurled right into her stomach and forcing her to take a step back. This gave Jazali enough pause to hurl herself at Malinda and try to claw her face off like a wild cat.

Both forms came tumbling down, but Malinda came up on top with both of Jazali’s arms behind her back, the little troll writhing and howling beneath her. When it became apparent that Jaz’s rageful form wouldn’t relent, Malinda decided to take the matter into her own hands. Quite literally.

The little troll son found herself seeing stars when the Kaldorei slammed her glowing green fist in a one-two-three jab to her skull, neck and back, hard enough to slam her down into the dirt again.

“You fight well.” The little troll barely registered the words through the dizzy provoked haze of her mind. Jazali tried to get back onto her hands again, the adrenaline and rage still coursing through her veins and chanting to her to get up, get up, get up, GET UP! But Malinda casually placed a glowing hand against Jaz’s skull again and continued. “But I’m afraid I’ve no time to squabble with the likes of you.”

And then, Jaz’s vision was overcome with darkness.

It was her hearing that came to her first. The sound of a crackling fire. A fireplace perhaps? Soft wind grazing against the room’s walls and windows. Reminded her of the indoors...why was she indoors?

Then came her sense of smell: smoke and fire, steam and roasted… something. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious. The final thing that awoke her was the itch on her nose. She tried to wiggle it off, but her eyes blinked open anyways. From the crust she could feel on the inner corners of her eyes, she could tell that she was probably asleep for quite awhile.

The first thing Jazali noticed was the different yet familiar location; from what she last remembered… oh. She lost. Jazali’s nose wrinkled in distaste. Well that was just dandy wasn’t it. She tried to sit up but felt a sharp ache in her… well, everywhere. The little troll let out a hiss and quickly lay back down again on the… where was she again?

Jazali slowly blinked her eyes open and looked around: from what she saw it looked to be the living room of Mal’s house, except the entire place was lit by the fireplace in front of her, setting a warm glow against the dark night sky outside. From her place on the floor, she could spy the scattered pillows that she was laying on against the floor and Mal stirring something delicious on a weird… bowl… pan… thing, on the fire.

Huh. Jaz thought that the elf was going to kill her for sure, not take her back inside and put her to sleep.

“Oh good. You’re finally awake.” Jazali jolted slightly and looked up, catching Malinda’s ever-watchful, glowing blue eyes. The night elf raised a thick brow and grunted. “I haven’t had to use that technique in quite a while. Was getting worried that I did it wrong and you were in a coma.”Jazali looked at the elf confusedly before swallowing whatever cotton was in her throat and croaked.

“H-...how l-long?”

“Oh, about a day or two.” Malinda shrugged, before she turned to putting whatever she was cooking onto a leaf and started to fold it up.

The Darkspear’s eyes bugged out. Two days?! What did that elf do to her?! Mal must have caught Jazali’s shocked expression, because she deadpanned “I knocked you out in self-defense. Excuse me for not knowing the side-effects of a monk’s fist against a berserking troll.” Jazali nervously looked away and pouted.

“...ain’t my fault ya pissed me off.” Malinda ignored the jab and placed the suddenly neat, square leaf package onto a nearby plate as she chuckled.

“Can’t deny you sneaked in some hard punches. I’ll be having a sore bruise on my neck, that’s for sure. And probably explain to Kai why I have one…”

Jazali vaguely listened to Mal as she ever-so-slowly tried to sit up; the persistent aches of her complaining muscles certainly weren’t helping. She had no idea what a ‘Kai’ was, but she hoped Mal wasn’t expecting her to apologise. That elfy bitchy started it.

A moment passed before suddenly...

“Oh, you’re hired by the way.”

The words didn’t register at first, but when Jazali finally got past the light-headedness, and she finally caught the sentence, she whirled her head to Mal.

“...say wha’?”

As the elf continued to fold squared leaf meals onto the plate, Malinda raised her eyes skyward as she hummed.

“Well..is ‘hired’ the right word? Well, whatever, point is: while you were taking your time in la la land, your friend thought to send me another letter after I told him I refused to teach you.”

The Kaldorei’s eyes hooded as her lips sneered quite… saltily “Turns out, he’s quite the persuasive bastard when he wants to be. Never thought he would resort to blackmail, but let it never be said that I was never wrong before.” Malinda tilted her head up and regarded Jazali curiously. “...And I’m surprised you held out in that fight for that long. Usually when I knock someone down, it’s for good, but it seems like you’re more stubborn than I thought.” As Jazali listened, she unconsciously leaned in and waited on baited breath. When she couldn’t wait, the little troll finally asked impatiently.

“So...ya gonna teach me?” Mal shrugged.

“Looks like it.”

“YAAY!” Jazali hurrayed with glee and threw her arms up into the air, but quickly let out a shout of pain and winced as her bruised arms protested heavily against the sudden movement. Mal rolled her eyes; this troll will probably be testing her patience many more times in the future.

“Hold your horses, you’re not starting any time soon.” Malinda grumbled as she pushed a hand down on Jazali, forcing her to lie back again. The little troll pouted indignantly but leaned back anyways for the sake of relieving her muscles. “I’ll just need to go get more shit and make sure you’re fine, then we’ll start tomorrow morning, so get plenty of rest.” Malinda stood up and stretched her arms up high before walking towards her own bed. She glanced back at Jazali and warned. “And every piece of food I find missing in the pantry is another 10 laps I add to your exercises.”

With that, Malinda closed the door. Jazali blinked… but soon grinned widely as she reached down to the plate of snacks left for her and started munching away excitedly. She couldn’t wait!

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taesthetes · 7 years

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imbroglio [ jimin ]

noun : an extremely confused, complicated, or embarrassing situation.

the first impression is always important. but so is the second.

pairing: park jimin x reader genre: fluff, comedy type: intern / ceo office au word count: 4,457 words warnings: none author’s note: because the reader should be the cool, suave ceo sometimes, instead of the sexy secretary or nervous newbie. and cue jimin as the new, cute, easily flustered intern. thank you elfie @syubits for listening to all my mindless rambles about this #elfmin2k17

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Jimin carefully threads the maroon colored silk tie with the faintest diamond pattern around his neck, hands shaking when he ties the knot. A knot tighter than the one he had just created already resides in his stomach, and he can only nervously tug at the aesthetically appropriate work tie to adjust its place beneath the collar of his crisp, ivory shirt. Inspecting the white material tucked into his neatly ironed black pants as he turns in a three hundred sixty degree fashion in front of his bathroom mirror, he almost suffers a panic attack when he sees the duck tail in the back, the blinding white telltale fabric protruding like a mockery.

Shoving the remaining end of his shirt into his pants, he then fiddles with the brass buckle adorning the plain, ebony belt around his waist. Puffing his rosy cheeks out to look even plumper, Jimin subconsciously purses his lips, already cerise from the numerous times he had chewed on his bottom lip in anxiousness. Parting his lips to let out one shaky breath, he painstakingly checks every button on his shirt to ensure that it is safely held together. Once he finishes, Jimin slides his hands through his hair, the chestnut strands glimmering in the slightest of ways from the rays of morning sunlight that managed to peek through the gauzy curtain covering the bathroom window. His dark, chocolate mocha eyes stare back at him through his mirror reflection: anticipation, anxiety, and a minuscule sliver of excitement pooling in the deepest depths of his darkening pupils.

Inhaling sharply, Jimin gives himself another quick pep talk, reminding himself that it is too late to back out, and if he does, it will definitely leave a lasting, most likely permanent blow to his pride.

After all, he is one of the only three people chosen for the internship at one of the most prestigious startup companies on an international scale.

Granted, he was actually the runner up for the third position. One of the initial recipients had declined the position after being accepted into SM Ent. That being said, Jimin is already at a disadvantage with him being a back-up. What’s more, being absent on the first day is certainly not the first impression he wants to leave.

After taking one last deep breath in front of the mirror, Jimin turns to grab his bag, a leather satchel he had meticulously packed and repacked a week in advance. A back up bag sits next to the door of his apartment. Patting the front pocket of his pants as he walks out of his flat, he is met with the familiar shape and feel of his new employee badge: the very one he had received in the mail three weeks ago and took about seven different selfies wearing it, although he would not readily admit to doing so to anyone.

Shifting the bag on his shoulders, Jimin briskly cuts through the other passerby on the sidewalk, quickly entering a train station. He fumbles for his metro card before getting a firm grasp of it and scanning his way in. As he stands on the platform and waits for the 6:55 AM train to arrive, Jimin rolls back and forth on the balls of his feet, adjusting the pressure and hoping to focus his mind on something other than the nerves that come with the internship. Gnawing on his lip, he hurriedly steps through the doors of the train that just arrived. Jostled by the usual morning crowd packed into the metal tube moving at possibly 60 miles per hour, Jimin stretches out his left arm and tightly grips onto one of the handles overhead. There are only three stops before his destination, and he prepares himself for the upcoming train halt. Unfortunately, that does not mean that everyone else does the same because—

“Oof!”

Nearly thrown off balance from the jostle, without thinking, Jimin immediately catches the person who is thrown into his side. Blushing when he realizes he is essentially hugging a stranger—and a very gorgeous one at that when he further takes notice of you—to his chest, he swiftly retracts his arm.

“I’m so sorry! You would think I’d remember to actually hold onto the railing after taking the train for five years,” you apologize, slipping in a small joke with your last statement. The stray wisps of your hair framing your face fly around as the train starts to move again and you stumble once more. Instant reflexes remake their entrance, and Jimin reaches out to steady you again, a mischievous smirk slipping onto his face.

“Maybe you should remember next time. I can’t have you falling for someone else on the trains.” He winks exaggeratedly, and you laugh, throwing your head back slightly. Jimin marvels at your carefree, effortlessly beautiful expression and simultaneously, he decides that your laugh is quite possibly the most wondrous sound to ever grace his ears. It is interesting how only five seconds of conversation can leave such a lasting impression.

The train screeches to a halt again, and by that time, you had already managed to wrap your arm around the one of the poles to keep yourself from staggering again.

“Ah, this is my stop. They make the best damn coffee you’ll ever have in the shop right outside there, and I literally cannot function one day without it.” You walk the few paces towards the exit before turning back to give him a quick smile. “Thank you for catching me earlier.”

“Thank you for falling for me,” he replies, and the soft tinkling of your laughter as you exit the train rings in his ears for the rest of his ride.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Jimin’s cheeks are quite pink still from the chance encounter, but he walks with a newfound confidence when he leaves the train station and struts to the looming, sky high building, which appears as if it is made entirely out of glass with the amount of floor to ceiling windows on every level. Stopping mid step as anxiety hits him faster than the speed of light once more, Jimin crosses his fingers for the briefest of moments as he wishes for luck in the internship he landed. Then, he pushes his way through the revolving doors. Nodding towards the receptionist as he pulls out his badge from his pants with fingers slick with perspiration and nervousness to flash towards her, Jimin fixes the plastic ID to his shirt pocket and goes to stand in front of the elevator next to a man with shockingly bright, strawberry colored hair who looks no older than himself.

“Hello! I’m Mr. Kim. Are you new here?” The man greets him easily with a friendly, boxy smile and an arm thrown around his shoulder, and Jimin is slightly taken aback. He steps into the elevator with Mr. Kim, unsure of what to think.

“Uh, yes, I’m one of—oh, I’m also floor five—the new interns. I’m Jimin. Park Jimin,” Jimin awkwardly introduces himself. The vibrant man is positively beaming with happiness as he chatters on and on to him. Jimin briefly wonders if someone spiked this man’s coffee with five shots of espresso this morning.

“It’s great to have you working here, son.” Mr. Kim slaps him on the back jovially, and thrown forward from the sudden hit, Jimin is almost positive there will be a bruise forming there in the next hour. “I’m your boss, and I hope we’ll get along fine.”

“O-oh, my boss? I mean, yes, Mr. Kim, I hope you’ll find my work to be satisfactory and up to standards.” Jimin fidgets nervously, and the elevator stops at floor three. A man who rivals the sun with the smile he nearly blinds them with approaches and gets on board, carrying a stack of files.

“Hey, Tae, who’s this?” The man addresses Mr. Kim.

“This is Jimin. He’s the new intern.”

The new man’s eyes widen in recognition. “Oh! It’s nice to meet you! I’m Hoseok, regular employee, and well, you already met Taehyung here—he’s another intern here and he’ll show you around and what to do—”

“Wait, I’m sorry to interrupt, but he’s an intern?” Jimin jabs a finger in Taehyung’s direction in bewilderment.

“Yes, of course, why? Wait—Taehyung, did you pretend to be the boss again?” Hoseok wheels around to fix a steely eye on Taehyung, who simply laughs and shrugs.

“I said I’m Mr. Kim, and Mr. Kim is in charge, so technically, I’m not wrong.”

“Mr. Kim Namjoon is in charge, not you,” Hoseok scolds, shaking a finger at Taehyung. The elevator dings open at floor five, and Hoseok rushes off, calling over his shoulder. “Stop harassing the poor new intern with your tricks and properly show him around.”

Once Hoseok is out of sight, Taehyung childishly sticks his tongue out in his direction before directing his attention back to Jimin. Jimin regards him warily, tugging on the straps of his satchel.

“Okay!” Taehyung claps his hands in glee as he pulls Jimin down a row of cubicles and towards some clustered in the right corner. “Let me show you to your cubicle! You’re right next to mine, an—oh! Hello, sir!”

Taehyung stops to greet a man—who looks more like a young boy, really, with his fluffy, mussed up black hair and the way his doe eyes widen slightly and his mouth parts slightly to show a pair of bunny teeth—and Jimin can’t help but eye the newcomer with suspicion.

“This is the new intern, Jimin!” Taehyung says loudly. “I’m showing him his cubicle, sir.”

“Ah, I see.” The man’s stiff demeanor relaxes instantaneously as he nods towards Jimin. “I hope you enjoy your time here.”

“Um, thank you…” Taehyung nudges Jimin’s side harshly with his elbow, and Jimin winces, hastily adding on the title to end of his statement. “… sir.”

The man nods somewhat awkwardly once more before breezily walking off. Trailing his gaze on sir’s back until he’s far from hearing distance, Jimin whirls around to face Taehyung, asking skeptically. “Is that really our boss?”

“Do you not trust me that much? Do you really think I’d try to fool you again?” Taehyung huffs out, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout. He skips over to the middle cubicle and plops down into the desk chair that is comically too low, his chin only a few inches above the edge of his desk.

Settling down into the cubicle to the right of Taehyung’s, Jimin relents. “Alright, alright. So what am I supposed to do?”

“Okay, so we get these files and use Microsoft Excel to check up on…”

As Taehyung continues to teach him, Jimin relaxes slightly. Aside from a silly prank, there was nothing to be nervous about, he thought, I can definitely make it through today.

The little trick Taehyung played was simply the obstacle of the day, and he survived it. What else can go wrong now?

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Apparently, everything else.

At ten o’ clock, Jimin decides to take a break, and Taehyung directs him toward the break room where he can prepare some coffee for himself. Stretching his arms as he leans back in his rolling chair, he rotates his shoulders to relax them from hunching over a computer. He is about to stand up and walk to the break room when—

“Hello. How’s your work going?”

Startled, Jimin emits a high pitched squeal as he pushes away from his desk quickly in fright—and rolls his desk chair right over his boss’s foot.

“Ow!”

“Oh! I’m so so sorry, sir! Oh my god, your foot—should I get you some ice, sir? Are you okay, sir!?” Hyperventilating, Jimin babbles on and on, flailing his arms in a panic, as his boss is currently curled in a fetal position on the floor, cradling his foot. Taehyung looks like he is about to bust a gut, and his shoulders silently shake as he tightly covers his mouth with his hands to keep any guffaws from escaping.

“Oh god, I’m going to be fired—Why are you laughing, Taehyung? Help me! Shoot, do you need me to call medical assistance, sir?!”

“What the fuck is going on?”

Jimin looks over to see a disgruntled, black haired man about his height, staring at the mess in front of him in disgust.

“Jungkook, get off the goddamn floor.” The man wrinkles his nose in distaste, and Jimin has never seen someone shoot up from the ground that quickly—well, as fast as possible with an injured foot and a limp—and into the desk chair in the cubicle on the left of Taehyung’s, furiously tapping away at his keyboard.

“You.”

Surprised again, Jimin lets out another squeak when he realizes the man is glaring directly at him. “Me?”

“Why are you calling that brat sir? There’s no need to inflate his already massive pompous ass ego. From the looks of it, you’re an intern just like him.”

“I-I—Taehyung said—” Jimin stutters out, quaking in his shoes, and the man sighs, shaking his head. “Taehyung, of course. Damn interns.”

The man walks off, muttering a string of profanities that Jimin does not dare to repeat. Jimin hastily sits back down into his seat, opting to not take that break he’d been thinking of and instead, continuing to work on the file he had opened on his computer, eyes glued to the screen.

Taehyung slyly rolls over in his desk chair. “So… that was Yoongi. He’s kind of a party pooper. It’s best to avoid him at all costs or make sure you sleep with one eye open.”

“I’m not deaf, Taehyung.”

“Sorry, Yoongi. I actually meant that you are the nicest and most charming person I have ever met.”

“Taehyung, shut the fuck up and go do your work.”

“Aye, aye.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

During his lunch break, Jimin quietly sits at his cubicle, eating the sandwich he packed—turkey and Swiss with avocado on toasted wheat, no crusts—as he listens to Taehyung and Jungkook bicker over some animated show. Once he finishes his lunch, Jimin contemplates whether he should brew himself a cup of coffee or buy a bottle of apple cranberry juice from the vending machine. As the bantering between the other two interns grow louder in volume, Jimin decides that getting coffee would take longer and thus, give him more time away from these two headaches.

He should have chosen the latter.

Somehow, the coffee machine refuses to start up. Fiddling with the buttons, he presses nearly every single one and changes the coffee filter twice. He even added more water. In a spurt of anger, he hits the side of the machine with his fist.

Bad move.

He had not locked down the top of the machine properly, and coffee grinds are currently scattered across the linoleum tiled floor. And bizarrely, the coffee marker let out an alarming noise before sporadically spitting out brown, grimy water, and his shirt becomes a victim, a large stain now decorating its front. Panicking, Jimin ripped the machine’s plug out from the electric socket, and the coffee maker becomes silent.

Grabbing the roll of paper towels to clean up the mess, Jimin stares down sadly at his now dirtied shirt with a sigh and catches a glimpse of his watch.

12:27 pm.

Fuck.

Taehyung mentioned something about Yoongi getting his coffee at 12:30 on the dot every day. No one has ever seen Yoongi without his coffee and lived to tell the tale.

12:28 pm.

Jimin ditches the paper towels on the counter and bolts out of the break room and towards the bathroom on the other side of the entire floor.

12:29 pm.

“WHO THE FUCK BROKE MY LIFE SUSTENENCE?”

Flinching, Jimin hastily pulls his tie down further in a vain attempt to cover the telltale brown splotch on his shirt and increases his speed by tenfold until he is safely in the bathroom.

This stall might become his temporary residence for the time being.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

After multiple bathroom visits from Taehyung updating him on Yoongi’s current mood, Jimin realizes he should probably get back to work before he is fired and before everyone starts to suspect Taehyung has a severe bladder problem. Although, it would serve him right for the two pranks the scarlet haired man pulled on Jimin.

Peeking out from the bathroom, Jimin sees that Yoongi’s cubicle is vacant and makes a run for it, dashing to his own cubicle. After that, every time he sees Yoongi, he hunches down even further in his chair and types as quietly as possible, monitoring the man’s every move from the corner of his eye.

One time, Yoongi walks towards the direction of his cubicle, and Jimin takes a swan dive under his desk, shaking.

“Why is the newbie hiding?” Jimin hears the gruff voice and cowers, curling further into the space beneath his desk.

“Oh, he dropped his Pepto Bismol pill. Apparently, he needs to take one every day.”

Fucking Taehyung. If he wasn’t so scared for his life because of Yoongi, Jimin might go out and strangle his red haired coworker.

When Yoongi finally leaves, Jimin crawls out and slinks back into his desk chair like a dog with his tail between his legs. He resumes his typing, carefully writing up reports and immersing himself in the work. Hoseok comes over at two o'clock, and Jimin almost jumps out of his own skin when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Woah, sorry about that. I was just wondering if you can make some copies of these files for me and then give them to Yoongi?” Hoseok inquires, holding out a stack of papers towards him, and Jimin takes them shakily. “Of course.”

Give them to Yoongi?

Might as well be sacrificing himself.

But he can’t just say no.

“Thanks!” Hoseok brightly grins, and Jimin returns his smile with a hesitant one before standing up and walking over to the copy machine.

Oh god.

Jimin stares at the copier in horror with its numerous buttons and complex parts. War flashbacks to the coffee machine go through his mind at once, and he wants to bang his head against the wall in frustration.

Okay, this cannot be too hard.

The green button is probably the ON button.

Jimin takes a deep breath.

He can do this.

He presses the green button.

A whirring sound starts up. Paper starts to go through the machine. Some printed images and words are starting to show up on the papers.

Oh.

This is easy.

Wait.

If he is still holding the files that need to be copied… Then what exactly is being printed out right now?

Fuck.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

After five minutes of randomly jabbing buttons and another five minutes of having a mental breakdown, Jimin drags Jungkook over to the machine for help in desperation. By then, there is a nice, thick stack of printed paper weighing down the tray of the copier. But before Jimin can begin to hyperventilate, Jungkook presses a few buttons, and the machine stops.

“Wha—how did you do that?” Jimin stares at Jungkook in astonishment, and the boy simply gives him a cocky grin. “Magic. You might want to put all that paper you printed in the recycling bin over there. I’ll copy the files for you.”

“Oh. Right. Thanks.” Relieved, Jimin grabs the massive pile of printed rejects and lugs it towards the blue bin, dumping the papers. When he returns, Jungkook is already finished, and he hands a neat stack of copies to Jimin.

“Have fun delivering them to Yoongi.” Jungkook smirks before sauntering off towards his cubicle.

Jimin suffers yet another mental breakdown, running through multiple methods to approach Yoongi.

In the end, he settles for a simple one.

He sprints over to Yoongi, barely stopping as he drops the files onto the surprised man’s desk, before scampering back to his own cubicle. “These are from Hoseok. Okay, bye!”

Jimin admits, that is probably not one of the proudest moments in his life.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

At four o’clock, a small shriek is heard throughout the floor, and everyone goes quiet. Then, a scarily calm voice that makes Jimin’s blood run cold cuts through the silence.

“Who used up all the ink and paper from the copy machine?”

Jimin freezes in his seat, unable to lift his head up. He continues to type nervously, making countless blunders, and it is no surprise that he hit the backspace button more often than any other key that day. Soon, the chattering resumes throughout the office, and Jimin glances up to see a new person on the floor.

And he is almost blown away by how ridiculously good looking the new guy is. With windswept chocolate hair, fluttering brown eyes, and pretty, plump, pink lips, Jimin would wholeheartedly believe it if Taehyung told him this man is a model. The Office Adonis is talking to Yoongi in hushed tones, writing something down, and Jimin wonders if he’s the boss or another employee or—

“Smitten with Jin? He’s the boss’s secretary,” Taehyung speaks up, twirling a pen between his fingers. “He’s also the one who asked about the copier.”

Just then, Jin looks up from his conversation with Yoongi and directly makes eye contact with Jimin.

Oh, shit.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Yoongi probably told on him about the coffee machine and the copier. This is it. He is going to be fired on the first day of work.

A few minutes later, Jimin peeks up a second time and nearly falls out of his chair, gasping. Jin stands next to his cubicle, smiling angelically.

“Hello, you must be Jimin, the newest intern. I’m supposed to give a day’s report on you, but the boss actually wants to meet you immediately. So if you could come with me…”

“O-of course,” Jimin manages to stammer out, still in awe of Jin, and follows behind him clumsily. Jungkook and Taehyung stare at them before whispering amongst each other, and the guilt and anxiety start to eat Jimin alive when he sees the two of them wave good bye to him in a somber manner.

He and Jin step into the elevator and ride up to the seventh floor. Once they reach their destination and the doors slide open, Jimin stares at the place in awe. The mahogany wall panels are tastefully decorated with vibrant realistic paintings, and small side tables with fresh roses adorn either side of the hall between every office door. Jin gracefully strides down the hallway, passing by several offices before reaching the last door at the end. Turning the doorknob, he opens the door and motions for Jimin to enter first. Facing the door, a tall, blond man dressed impeccably in a sharp suit stands next to the desk, quietly speaking to a woman with her back towards the two new arrivals.

“Oh, hey there, Namjoon. Here’s the report for you.” Jin walks towards the pair to hand over the stack of papers.

Wait, a good impression needs to be made before he reads about what a terrible klutz of an intern I am, Jimin panics, before rushing forward.

“Hello, sir! I’m your new intern, Park Jimin. It is a pleasure to meet you, the incredibly talented and inspiring CEO of this company.” Jimin bows slightly at Namjoon before realizing what he just did and quickly straightens up, cheeks flushed.

Namjoon lets out a low chuckle, amusement flitting in his eyes. “Actually, she’s the CEO of the company. I overlook the floors and report to her.”

When you turn around, his heart drops faster than the speed of light. You wink at him, and Jimin hates the way that small action makes his heart skip a beat and his stomach fill with butterflies. This is not the time to start have feelings for someone. “It’s nice to see you again. I’m _______ _______. It’s good to finally have a name to match with the charming stranger who saved me from face planting this morning.”

Oh, god.

His mouth slightly agape, the blush on his face becomes more prominent than ever when he is hit with the raw truth and realizes who you are. Thousands and thousands of thoughts swirl through his mind until he almost grows dizzy. Mortified, there is one looming thought dominating over the rest.

He had hit on his boss, no, the fucking CEO of one of the most successful companies in the world.

Fuck.

Still struggling to escape from his thoughts and embarrassment, he only catches bits and ends of your observations as you scan through the report Jin gave you (“—takes one Pepto Bismol daily?” you read out loud in confusion, and Jimin shrivels in his place, the tips of his ears going red). Namjoon and Jin talk quietly amongst themselves, throwing an interested glance towards him here and there. God, there was nothing he wanted more than to be swallowed by the ground at that very moment.

“Well,” You look up from the report, locking eyes with Jimin, as your lips quirk up in the corners, forming a mischievous grin. “I guess you’re smoother in a train than in an office.”

His face feels like it is on fire now, and his heart is going to fly out of his chest. From embarrassment or from the way you’re cutely smiling at him, he doesn’t know yet.

All he knows is that he really wants to die right then and there.

“I hope you will enjoy working here, Mr. Park.”

Wait, what?

“You’re not going to fire me?” Jimin is, to put it lightly, in disbelief, wide eyed and jaw slacked.

You giggle quietly, and once again, he is reminded of how beautiful your laugh is. Fuck, these types of thoughts really need to stop. He definitely cannot be developing a crush on his boss.

“No, I’m not firing you. Unless that’s what you want?”

“No, of course not!” Jimin quickly answers, “Thank you so much! I’ll show you that I’m a hard worker! I will do well! Thank you! I will get back to work now!”

In his haste to get out of the door, he bumps into your desk, scattering several papers onto the floor, and a potted plant teeters dangerously on the edge. Horrified, Jimin lets out a small, strangled squeak before grabbing the pot and putting it in a safer position. Then, he hastily gathers the papers on the floor, blurting out various apologies.

You stifle a laugh.

Cute.

Perhaps work may be a lot more interesting now.

Especially if you have a certain gorgeous and easily flustered intern named Park Jimin around.

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