A story that includes the typical trope of a rich business man named Taehyung. A man forced to marry another by the name of Jungkook. Taehyung might be your typical cold, emotionless, man of merciless business decisions, but Jungkook? Jungkook decid...
I shrugged, preoccupied with scrambling around my bedroom for something else I could wear to match the theme of the party. Jimin wasn't wrong when he said I don't have much variety in my closet.
"Want me to read what I have so far? We can take some of the options off."
"Hit me with it."
"Option number one. Trip into his arms Kdrama style."
I cringed.
"Wouldn't that make me the girl in the relationship?"
Jimin smirked, looking up at me with hooded eyes. I scoffed.
"You don't actually think that I'm-"
"You'll have to prove to me otherwise Mr. Jeon." Jimin said, cutting me off.
"Fine. Then take that one off the list."
Jimin obliged, crossing option one off the list.
"Option two. Openly flirt with him during dinner."
"I can probably pull that off pretty easily."
"Option three. Accuse him of cheating on you in front of everyone."
"Can't do that. That'll just screw us both over."
"Mmkay. Then option four. Boast to everyone about your nonexistent sex life."
I glared.
"Lying to all his coworkers that we had sex will just raise uncomfortable questions I have no interests in answering."
Jimin smirked.
"Like whose top and whose bottom? I can see why you wouldn't want to answer that question, especially because we both know which position you'd be if it actually happened."
"Right, I don't want to crush his ego this early."
"What do you mean by that?" Jimin said, confused.
"Well if I tell everyone he's a bottom then the war will end too early."
Jimin scoffed.
"You know what? Sure. I'll let you live out your dominant fantasies."
"What? Do you not think that I'd-"
"We're gonna be late for dinner. Hurry up and find something to wear." Jimin said, once again cutting me off. All that I had successfully put on was black leather pants and a tight, black turtleneck.
I glanced around my room helplessly looking for something to make my outfit at least somewhat fitting compared to the erratic demeanor everyone else was emitting.
Jimin pointed to a robe hanging in the corner of the room.
"What about that?"
I raised an eyebrow. I've never worn it since it's not very practical for its actual purpose.
"A bathrobe?"
Jimin shrugged.
"Better than most of the bland shit you have in your wardrobe."
He had a point. I plucked the robe off the hanger, slinging it loosely around my shoulders.
"How do I look?"
"Like curtains in the 1960s. It's perfect."
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