JIMIN ONESHOTS IMAGINES

Surprise Visit

— 19 —

When his sister surprisingly visited him and saw you wearing one of his shirts

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I was on my way home from school when the rain came crashing down, soaking me in seconds. There I was, standing in the middle of the street with no umbrella, no cover, and no idea why I hadn't checked the weather forecast. My notes were drenched, my glasses fogged up, and my mood was sinking faster than my soaked shoes.

Just as I was about to give up and keep walking, a car slowed down next to me.

"Y/N?" a familiar voice called out.

Park Jimin. My boyfriend. My savior.

He drove me to his place, which was thankfully only a mile from mine. He handed me a towel and his oversized shirt, the soft fabric practically swallowing me whole. Still, I didn't mind. It smelled like him, warm, comforting, safe.

"Make yourself at home," he said, flashing that smile I fell for. "My notes are ruined," I pouted, holding up the dripping mess. "I'll dry them. Or re-write them with you," he offered.

The shirt slid slightly off my shoulder, revealing more skin than intended. I tugged it awkwardly. "Your shirt is huge."

"You look cute," he grinned. "Like a walking blanket." I rolled my eyes, adjusting my glasses. "Four-eyes Y/N, reporting for duty."

He laughed, pulling me onto his lap without warning. My heart did a full gymnastics routine. I felt like a lightweight paper to him, tossed around so easily. He tucked my hair behind my ear and looked at me seriously.

"Why didn't you call me this week?" he asked. I blinked. "Oh! My phone broke. I forgot to tell you."

"We'll get you a new one tomorrow," he said without hesitation. "Isn't that expensive—?"

"I've been saving. It's not a problem." He leaned in and kissed my nose. "Besides, I miss talking to you every day." I was still processing that when the doorbell rang.

"Stay here, I'll check," Jimin said quickly.

But I didn't stay put.

From the top of the stairs, I heard a cheerful voice. "My lovely brother!"

Wait—what?

As I hurried downstairs, I saw her. Rosé. My friend from school. My jaw dropped. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" she laughed. "I should be asking you that! You're Jimin's... sister?!"

"Surprise," she grinned. "You didn't know? Oh.. you're wearing his shirt. Cute."

Jimin gave her a look. "She got caught in the rain. I let her borrow my shirt."

Rosé smirked and leaned in toward me. "My brother's shirt might be comfy, but be careful. He's a full-grown man, you know. Not everything is small." I blinked. "Wait, what?"

Before I could say anything else, Jimin pulled me back toward the stairs, his ears red. "Okay, Rosé, we're done with the teasing."

"But I was having fun with your girlfriend!" she laughed as we disappeared upstairs.

"She's funny," I giggled. "But... what did she mean when she said you have a 'friend down there'? You've never introduced me to that friend."

Jimin groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You're too innocent for this conversation."

"I'm serious! If it's a close friend of yours, I wanna meet him!"

"Oh, you will," he muttered under his breath. "One day."

A Year Later — Married Life

On our honeymoon, Jimin looked at me with that same mischievous smile I'd gotten to know so well.

"You still want to meet that 'friend' Rosé mentioned a year ago?" I blinked. "Wait—what? That wasn't a metaphor?!"

He just winked. I finally got the joke.

And let's just say... I never looked at the word "friend" the same way again.

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