#jimin is mentioned

[userjiminie]

jiminie got his wish, after all ♡ inspo. | interview | AYS cr. ouranxingg

[kimtaegis]

favourite new duo: mimi and bart

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Orbiting: pt.4°

: pt.1° | pt.2° - pt.2,5° | pt.3°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [3.9k smut, angst. There's swearing; bitch-calling (non-sexual); this is purely fiction, please practice safe sex!; tons of dialogues. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, but tbh, I kinda struggled to steer the plot.

Also! Happy Hobi Day! Please give Be My Mistake some love, too! (if u want)

-

"Isn't that your girl, cozying up to Park?"

The first thing Jungkook sees is you—back on the rink, just where you belong. He's never seen someone as graceful as you glide. You always look beautiful like this, he thinks. The apples of your cheeks are rounded and rosy from the cold, and the corners of your eyes wrinkle as you laugh.

You always reverted to the nine-year-old you when you were left free to skate—so carefree and unafraid. There were moments like now when he could watch you move smoothly on the ice and soar in the air forever. Days like today are what he will always be thankful for, and he hopes you get to have forever. No longer does he want to see you put yourself through so much pain and endure it for the sake of being the best in your sport. While Jungkook knows all too well that you need to put in the hard work to get a step forward toward your dream of being professionals in your own field, he also knew when too much was too much. In all those days where you suffered, Jungkook did, too. So, he vowed to never forget that there's a version of you who knew how to revel and not overthink every move she made on the ice. And it is his duty to always remind you of her.

Your squeal broke him out of his trance. And Jungkook would have felt the strain in his muscle when he whipped his head, turning to look through the glass, past the bleachers, if the sight hadn't irked him. Jealousy stirred as he spots Jimin's arms on your waist and the other outstretched to hold yours. He knows it's nothing malicious. You've been practicing that stance with him for years when you were kids, thanks to his mom. But something about seeing Jimin with you and the fact that you've defended the guy when Jungkook blamed him for your sprained leg AND even managed to gush about how graceful he skates left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Plus, not to be bitter and petty, but Jungkook thinks he skates well—better even. And yet you've never complimented him.

"Not my girl," Jungkook murmurs under his breath. "And it's a routine. Not exactly cozying up." He scoffs and takes his stick from Yugyeom a little too aggressively, causing his friend-slash-teammate to chuckle.

"You seem to know a lot about routines," Jackson cuts in. "But then again, why wouldn’t you, Jungkook?" The lilt in the older man's voice as he said Jungkook's name wasn't unnoticed, but Jungkook didn't have enough patience and attention to spare to even humor the guy. He also knew whatever Jackson had to say would be anything but a friendly banter.

Jungkook only acknowledges the man with a side-eye and raised brow as he tapes his hockey stick.

Unfortunately, Jackson refuses to shut his mouth; the man is clearly on a mission to get a reaction from Jungkook.

The rest of the hockey team starts to come out of the locker rooms, clumping to the bleachers. With the gathering crowd, Jackson raises his voice, demanding attention and an audience. "You know, there's this move figure skaters do where they spin and spin and spin, circling around their partner." With his head tilted and standing in front of Jungkook, he gives him a haughty glare.

And still, Jungkook’s attention remains on you. You’re only just occupying your side of the rink—the opposite side where his team is gathered at. Whatever you hear on your end should be incoherent. You don't need to hear the bullshit coming out of his teammate's mouth, he thinks.

"What was it she preferred to call it again?" Jackson pretends to wait for Jungkook to answer. Yugyeom, on the other hand, looked apologetic. What started out as playful teasing turned into a way for Jackson to provoke their team captain, and everyone knew how Jackson loved to rile Jungkook. While everyone thought it was because the older man lost the title to someone younger, that was only partly the reason.

"Ah, right," Jackson walks closer to Jungkook. He claps Jungkook's shoulder before gripping tightly into it. "Orbiting,” Jackson grins. He’s taunting, hooking Jungkook, demanding his full attention. “Y/N does it well, but you clearly do it the best,” he mocks. “It’s comical watching you run in circles around the bitch for years.” His sly smile turns to pointed chuckles as he feels Jungkook tense under his grip.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Closing in on Jungkook's ear, Jackson whispers, "Don't worry, I'm pretty sure she does it intentionally, especially to guys she dances with. I bet Park's gonna be her new boy toy now, huh?"

Jungkook was never a violent man. Even on the ice, in a game, he never started brawls. The one time he got tangled in a fight, he couldn’t stand the disappointed glare you gave him. It hurt more than the 13 stitches on his head and scarier than his mom’s scolding.

And yet, Jungkook throws the first punch straight to Jackson’s jaw.

Jungkook can take a joke and can easily shake off empty trash talk and name-calling from his team. In fact, he lets them make jokes about him about his blatant simping for you because it’s true, and anything untrue, he doesn’t see the point in entertaining it. But he draws the line when the jabs are at the expense of the people he loves.

In a matter of seconds, Jackson returns the punch, and a full brawl breaks out.

On the opposite end, you and Jimin match your stride as a pair—being aware of each other’s movement and syncing your limbs to move as one; oblivious to the growing chaos.

You’re in the middle of a Lutz when the commotion steals your focus. You wobble on your landing and Jimin’s quick to hold you from falling. You turn towards the racket and see a mass of bulky men shouting.

It’s Jungkook’s team.

You skate closer to the chaos, and it’s not until you see a pressed back on the glass, the number 97 jersey bold and taut on their back, that you speed skate. Behind you, Jimin calls your name and follows.

You see Yugyeom restrain Jackson, and the other guys are holding back Jungkook. A flurry of curse words flies out of Jackson’s mouth. Entering the box, your eyes are drawn to Jungkook. You can already see his busted lip and sore knuckles. You call his name, and he looks up, jaws locked and tense. It takes a moment for his clenched knuckles to relax. He stands up and shrugs off the arms holding him.

Yet again, Jackson cuts in, “You guys are quite a pair, huh?” he laughs, humorless.

“Man, shut the fuck up,” Yugyeom struggles but eventually manages to drag Jackson away from the group. Sensing that Jungkook won't follow and lunge at Jackson, the rest of the guys disperse. All that’s left gathered on the bleachers is you and Jungkook.

And Jimin. 

Your new partner’s existence annoys Jungkook. Your doe-eyed friend wonders if Jimin knows he doesn’t have to stand so close beside you. He watches with eagle eyes as Jimin hands out your skate guards. You teeter sideways as you clasp the rubber on your skates, and Jungkook hates the sight in front of him—you’re holding on to Jimin for support, and his arm is on your waist to keep you steady.

Fueled by jealousy and adrenaline, Jungkook walks towards you just in time to catch your arm away from Jimin’s body as you switch to putting on the other rubber guard on your skates.

You feel smushed as you stand sandwiched between two guys. Feeling claustrophobic, you push Jungkook by his chest to look at his injuries. “Your lips are bleeding,” your tone colder than ice, a contrast to your warm hands inspecting the blooming bruises on his face. “It’s nothing,” Jungkook murmurs, his head turning sideways, away from you.

You tsk at his stubbornness and press your thumb on his split lip, earning a pained hiss. “We have to clean this so it doesn’t scar.” Before Jungkook can protest and put on his macho bravado, you turn to Jimin. “Can we take a rain check on lunch?” your voice barely above a whisper. But Jungkook’s not only stubborn, he’s nosey, too—masking how hard he strains to listen to your conversation with an unbothered face.

There's an exchange of whispers, then Jimin looks at him, then back at you. He smiles and nods at you. “I'll see you later, then.” His hands connect with your arm for a comforting squeeze before leaving.

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

-

“Where are we going?” Jungkook follows you as you drag him by his arm along the corridors. “The clinic’s closed on weekends,” he points out, but the only response he gets is a huff.

You’re a bit eerily quiet. Calm, even. He fears what follows, so he thinks of a way to pacify you.

“Well. Lucky for you, Jeon, I have the keys.” You dangle the set of keys on your fingers. “Your mom gave them to me before she left.”

You unlock the clinic and usher Jungkook in the compact space. “I seem to always end up hurt when I practice and it’s not like your mom has her eyes on me all the time, so she lends me the key to the clinic.” You push Jungkook to the foamed table. “Sit.”

Jungkook follows suit, still mum, still thinking. He knows he's on wafer-thin ice with you, but even so, he can't help but love the attention you’re giving him and the fact that you’re away from Jimin.

The image of you and Park on the rink is still vivid in his memory, stirring the tinge of jealousy that resides inside him. So, as you rummage through the cabinets, Jungkook pulls you close to him. “C’mere,” he whispers.

“Hold on, I have to find something for your lip.” Your body extends in the small space. Your arms are outstretched while you rummage through the cabinet for bandages and antiseptic cream, and your lower half is awkwardly bent, thighs wedged between Jungkook’s, and his hands support your hips. 

“Forget the cream. I know a better way to have this healed quickly.” His arms engulf your waist and pull you completely to him. You turn to tell him off, but before words can leave your mouth, Jungkook slots his lips to yours.

Before things could escalate, you begrudgingly pull away. “Nuh-uh. You think you’re so sly, huh?” You pinch his chin. “I still need to interrogate you on what exactly happened with Jackson back there.”

Jungkook deflates. “You know Jackson. He was spouting nonsense, and I guess he just got on my nerves.”

Curiosity peaked, you push Jungkook to tell you more. “What nonsense?” Your willful streak shows in your furrowed eyebrows. On most days, he loves it, but on a day like today, he wishes you knew when to get the hint and just drop it.

Jungkook groans. “I’m just really having one of those days, Y/N.” Arms still wrapped around your waist, he leans forward to rest his head on your chest. Instinctively, you run your fingers through his hair, fingers massaging his scalp. Your best friend moans, and for the first time since you pulled him away from the bleachers, you let out a smile.

“Make me feel better,” he breathes. His face now burrowing into your breasts, and his fluffy hair tickles you.

“Gguk,” you giggle. “We’re in the clinic, and I'm pretty sure there are people nearby.” You softly pull at his hair to remove his head between your tits, but he just moans.

Oh.

“Don’t care, baby. Just focus on me,” he proposes with a kiss on your neck and his hands make soothing work on your back. When the only response he gets from you is a satisfied hum, he sits up further on the table. He lowers his hand, tapping your ass before he pulls you by the backs of your knees so you straddle his thighs on the table.

“Fuck, I love it when you wear skirts.” Jungkook’s hand disappears inside your clothes, palms once again making contact with your ass before he claws at your tights. “This I hate, though. Fuck.” he grumbles at the sheer garment.

“Oh, that's a shame," you pout. "I actually thought you'd love it. It’s crotchless," the last sentence coming out in a whisper. Cue another curse from his mouth. You momentarily pull away to get off the table and shed your safety shorts. “Need those off, Jeon," you command with a shoot of your brow towards his pants. “Wanna feel you. Don’t you want to feel me?”

You're a fucking tease, and Jungkook loves it.

You watch him struggle to unlatch his belt clasp—he’s roughly pulling at his padded pants and while you want to help, you decide to enjoy the sight before you as his thick thighs come into view. You climb back on top of Jungkook, his eyes following your movement until you plop your ass to his growing bulge.

Jungkook flips the front of your skirt and goes breathless at the sight. “You’re a fucking minx, you know that?”

“Only for you.” Hands gripping his shoulders as an anchor, you drag your wet pussy to his bulge, and you both moan. “Wore this for you," you pant. "I knew you were practicing today and thought you'd need a cooldown after." You’re full-on humping him, drawing pleasured gasps from the man below you.

“Well, fuck me,” Jungkook throws his head back, eyes up on the ceiling and he thanks his lucky stars for you. You pull at his tight underwear, and his hard cock springs free—swollen red and leaking. Your mouth waters at the sight, and your pussy clenches at nothing.

“Please, Jungkook,” you plead. You’re beyond turned on. Your arousal mixes with Jungkook’s precum, and you can smell the sex permeating the air. It drives you feral. You spit at his cock before stroking it.

Jungkook revels in your neediness. This is what he wants—for you to need him, want him. And someday, he hopes it goes beyond sex. His arms pull your waist closer as you sink down on his cock in one drop.

“Shit, Y/N, you okay, baby?”

You respond with a breathy yes as you start bouncing on his dick. Your focus is directed on chasing your high and, at the same time, making sure Jungkook feels the same intensity of desire and pleasure you feel. With a roll of your hips, you clench around his shaft. He claws at your arched back as he sucks your tits with playful nips. Each sting heightens your arousal.

You play around with the angle of your hips and attune to Jungkook's reaction. But you struggle and near complete submission with each bite to your breast, every kiss to your lips, and slide to your folds. Once again, you’re rendered pliant and submissive on top of Jungkook.

Feeling you slow down, Jungkook taps your burning thighs. “On your back, baby,” he rasps. You shake your head but move to get on all fours—you raise your hips, shuffling to snuggle his cock in your ass and stretch your back. And to top it off, you clasp your hands on your back, giving him something to hold as he pounds into you.

Behind you, Jungkook is gobsmacked. What are you doing to him?

Presenting yourself for his use, Jungkook doesn't hesitate to hold your behaved hands with one grip, and his other hand guides his dick to smear your slick from your folds to your ass. He preens at the noises you make.

"Please," you drool. "Please what? Tell me what you want, baby," his voice matches the slow and soft movement of his tip on your folds.

With one last teasing push of his tip to your puffy clit, he completely bottoms out and holds.

“How’s that for feeling me, baby?” His lips ghost the shell of your ear, and it tickles you just right. You clench around him and reclaim one of your restrained hands between your now folded bodies to draw circles on your clit. You hear Jungkook chuckle before leaving a quick peck on your cheek. As he straightens up to pull out his dick, he reaches to swat your naughty hand on your clit and replaces it with his.

And it feels better.

His fingers play with your nub and continue to plunge in and out of you. The sound that echoes around the tiny room is pure filth—guttural groans and whiny moans harmonize.

“Baby, cum for me,” Jungkook hastens his rhythmic thrusting, and with a soft flick to your clit, you come undone. His movements quicken and cum-soaked hands travel upwards to your body to fondle your tits like it's his personal stress ball.

“Shit Jungkook. Feels good," you blabber. You love how you can feel his weight on top of you; the pressure makes his pounding harder and deeper and it overrides your oversensitivity. The pleasure is too good, too strong. With a bite to your shoulder to muffle himself, you cum with him.

-

“Don’t forget your shorts. Can’t have you skating with Park wearing just that."

"Right," you giggle and put on your shorts. "Can't be traumatizing my partner this soon."

"Good girl." Jungkook pats your ass.

"Hey," your hands pull Jungkook before he can leave. "What really happened back there?"

"Y/N, I told you it was nothing."

"Nothing? Jungkook, had the fight been longer, you could've been dismissed from the upcoming game."

"Well, we're fine. Plus, Jackson's not going to do anything or tell the coach. It's both our asses on the line."

"That doesn't mean you can go around throwing punches now. What if—"

Throwing his head back, Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh, cutting you off. As he returns to face you, he sees the focused glare on your eyes—lids sharp and brows knitted. You're annoyed.

But so is he.

“You really wanna know? Fine. Jackson called me out. He said it was fucking comical how I wait around you like a lovesick puppy. It's actually a fucking running joke in our team that when you call, I come running." Words and feelings overflowed out of Jungkook's mouth, but he was not close to being done. "And as much as I hate to admit it, it’s actually true, and someone like him throwing that to my face just struck a nerve. He deserved the punch for running his mouth and calling you a bitch, too. Y/N, if you've heard the names he's called you, comments he made—"

"I don't care about that, Jungkook," you interrupt. One moment, you're in bliss, and now you've been hit with an accusation. "I don't care if he calls me a bitch or paints me however he wants. It's you I care about. I worry that one day, he manages to push you to your breaking point, and you do something that kicks you off the team." You feel like a bubble filled with emotions burst inside you, leaving you conflicted with what you feel. You're angry at Jackson, but also, if you think Jungkook is saying what he is saying, then half of you blooms in hope, but the other wilts at the revelation that he said it like he resents what he's feeling.

“So, do you resent me? For, I don't know, calling you? Wanting to be with you? Being friends with you?" The last question left your lips in a murmur. You've ranked low in competitions before, but you've never looked as defeated as you do now. To make it worse, you stand pathetic in front of Jungkook.

“I’m not saying that," Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose. "I’ve been in love with you, Y/N,” he can’t believe he’s saying it out loud.

Jungkook imagined his confession to be far from this wreckage. This moment was the polar opposite of how he wanted it to go, but the words flurry out of his mouth before he could think of them. “I love you, but you’re always too hung up on every new guy that comes along to even see me…” he swallows the sob rising in his throat. “Sometimes I wonder if you keep me as a placeholder until a new guy comes.”

“A placeholder?” You're horrified. Jungkook's breaking your heart, and the thought that you apparently broke his shatters the pieces further.

“Aren’t I? When Jackson joined our team, all he had to do was wink and throw a cheesy line at you, and you’re all about him. And now Jimin—”

“Jimin?” Now, you're confused.

“Yes, Jimin. All he had to do was skate with you, and suddenly, I’m on the backburner.”

“Jungkook, where is this coming from? You’re making me out as someone who’s never been a friend to you.”

“Oh, you’ve been a friend, alright. But you can’t deny you’ve strung me up all along. Sometimes I wonder if you knew how I feel and you—”

“Stop," you plead. "Oh god, Jungkook, stop talking, please.” The tears you were holding back now freefall to your cheeks. “All this time, this is how you felt. You have been resenting me—"

"That's not what I'm saying! Do you not understand me?" Jungkook grows frustrated.

“No, I understand, Jungkook. Perfectly. I understand I’ve been selfish, teetering between wanting to keep you close to me and keeping you at a distance to protect myself." You don't want to invalidate his feelings, but he also needs to know where you're at. Thousands of thoughts are drowning you, and you're nowhere close to navigating your feelings; you're still conflicted and lost. But most of all, afraid. Will you lose Jungkook now? It frightens you that one wrong decision could crash your friendship beyond fixable. "But Jungkook, I’ve never seen you as someone I can set aside for anyone else because you’ve always been the first person I look for and reach out to. Even when I always thought you were so close yet so far to me, but still I—"

A knock pops the bubble you’re in. Rushing to wipe your cheeks dry, the door swings open to a clueless and shocked Jimin, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Shit, sorry," Jimin fidgets between wanting to close the door and leave but decides he'd rather not get in trouble, so with eyes on the floor, he calls for you.

"Coach is going ballistic looking for you, Y/N. And him, too. I mean, their coach is looking for him. He heard of the fight.”

More worry rushes to you. You try hard to stay afloat and level-headed, but you're sinking and sinking. “Right,” you clear your throat. “We were just cleaning up. We’re done here anyway.”

Once again, you feel claustrophobic. You need to leave. You don't trust yourself to make any decision in the state you're in. The last time you made a decision from what you were feeling, you made a selfish proposal to Jungkook. And look where that's gotten you now. You can't think, so you rush to leave the room, folding your arms before Jungkook can grab your wrist.

“Wait, Y/N—”

You linger briefly at the door, just enough so he can catch the defeated words that you speak, “We’re done, Jungkook.”

-

>> Page 5

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Wow, armys are taking down any account that says anything about Suga. So they know to report? And they can get accounts suspended quickly? Good to know.

It was never about capability, but willingness. Army as the online Fandom in its current state is not a Jimin fan, nor will ever take seriously any threat or slander towards him and his family when people from the fandom itself are the perpetrators. Stop expecting change from them.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

BTS had a new music video. They had their teeth covered in the black stuff dentists use, singing, "Give us the burn, woah-oh-oh." I still remember the melody

[solojihyo]

KARINA ♡ 'SALTY & SWEET' 230513

[aseaofyoongi]

confessions of not so estranged hearts | pjm

park jimin x reader (f)

genre: angst; smut; crush culture

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: you and jimin used to talk your senior year of highschool but after a lengthy falling out the two of you finally get a chance to reignite what was there.

warnings: pretty vanilla; reader is kind of shy; mentions of emotional constipation and miscommunication; set in the spring because warm weather makes me happy; tae is the readers step bro (this is not pseudo incėst); jk/jm are also brothers; teasing; penetrative sex; fingering/clitorial stimulation; praise; nipple play; foul language.

word count: 8,9 thousand words

posted: March 18, 2023

-

-

Vibrant fields of lilac were stretched out in front of you. The little knowledge that you had retained about plants geared you to believe you were prancing around lavender beds. All of them were so narrow and ran numerous miles, seemingly endless. It almost seemed to meet the cool tones of the evening blue skies somewhere at the end of its path deep into the horizon. But you could not tell if it really did.

Instead, you stood snapping mental photographs of the beauty around you. It was a sight you wanted to store in your memories forever. To keep under lock and key in a tiny wooden box within the walls of your heart.

You grew a bit startled when a stranger’s slender fingers became intertwined with yours.

You thought you were alone. . Steadily, you turned around reading up the person standing behind you. They wore khakis; a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow and were outlined by a luminescent sparkle outshining the burning star above.

Jimin? You questioned, thoughts becoming a scribbled nonsense and quite frankly you were unsure how the two of you ended up here. But you did not care nor did you question it.

You just rode the wave of tingles migrating through your body. The way his lips were sculpted into a tender smile; his cheeks adorned by dimples so deep the ocean would be put to shame. And his palm felt so warm against yours. God knows you have wondered how that would feel from the moment you first laid eyes on him.

“Jimin.” he didn’t speak; just nodded, “how are we here? Where are we?”

“Your thoughts brought me here.”

“My thoughts?” you scratched the back of your head, “it’s that simple?”

“It’s that simple,” his voice began to fade and his touch became phantom.

You were being shaken out of your scenic haven, and while you tried to focus on Jimin the chants of your name became too great to ignore. Opening your eyes felt blinding but after rubbing the sleep off of them you realized it had only been a dream.

Figures. Only in the fabrications of your dreams would you ever grow the tits to speak to someone like him again. . breathing in the same vicinity as Jimin was an overstep, looking in his direction was ambitious, another chance at speaking to him was impossible and you were fully aware of that but how do you tell your heart to move on when he possesses everything your dreams are made of.

“Jimin again?” Your step-brother, Taehyung asked.

“Jimin?” you must have been uttering his name in your sleep again—like an idiot, “as in the guy who manages the flower stand?”

He hummed.

“No, not that Jimin.”

“So within the last twenty four hours you developed a stupid crush on another Jimin?”

“Yes. .” that could be believable, right?

“He’s the only Jimin you and I know,” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“He’s the only Jimin you know,” you tried averting as much as a stutter in your words, wanting to sound as convincing as possible, “I know many other Jimins’”

“Do I need to remind you, your best friend is a stuffed animal?” The most annoying thing about Tae was having him as a brother, living with him twenty-four seven; not being able to shield any details about your personal life from him.

“Actually, Yeontan is my best friend as well. How about you just keep your eyes on the fucking road.”

“You just proved my point but whatever,” he mumbled but you ignored him allowing his words to be carried away in the mild wind. Instead you became focused on the perfect attributes of that afternoon. The way the viridescent leaves emitted their melody as they swayed on the branches they would be calling home for the duration of spring and summer.

You raised your legs up on the dashboard after rolling down the window immersed by the sounds of nature, everything so perfectly in tune much like a lullaby nearly sending you off into a deep slumber once more.

Perhaps, that’s what your heart truly called for, urging for even the remaining ten minutes of the ride to fabricate dreams of him like you just had. Snippets of his features flashed in your mind with recollections of his tawny skin sparkling under the sunlight; cherry lips which he usually glossed accentuating their plumpness; and russet eyes he usually hid behind his eyelids when he smiled and laughed.

Jimin was the definition of perfection through and through.

But despite your shy glances and sneaky pleads for him to see you one more time, he never did. Even during the market festival season where he began helping his mom’s stand in front of yours two years ago you were invisible to him yet he was all you ever laid eyes on.

“We’re here loser,” he knocked your legs off the dashboard scrubbing the sleeve of his hoodie on the scuffs that were already there, “Look at all this. I’m gonna make you clean my whole fucking car.”

“Your truck has been shit way before I even set foot in it.”

“The fuck you say about Darla?”

“Darla, is literally the only woman in your life,” you pointed at his truck, “and she's a chunk of metal on wheels. Complete shit.”

He gasped audibly, slamming the car door before following behind you in a trot, “if Darla’s such a piece of shit you can use your little chicken legs to walk home.”

“I was going to do so anyway.”

“Good because I wasn’t providing you with a choice to begin with.”

You rolled your eyes, “fuck you, Taehyung.”

Taehyung and his father steered into the avenue of your life ten years ago on your twelfth birthday. Your mother threw a big party with promises of a grand surprise. Like any other adolescent girl you had hopes of a pleasant gift like a new phone; clothes; or maybe even a puppy. . But no. You couldn’t have been any more wrong. In the blink of an eye you were condemned with a brother you never asked for and a father figure you didn’t need. As she introduced them to you the vibrant walls residing in your mind, the same ones you had grown so accustomed to began closing in—trapping you in the narrowed space. Your whole world had been crushed entirely, metaphorically and literally as you were completely blind sided by betrayal and fueled by rage. For an entire year you gave your mother the cold shoulder, resenting her for not deeming you the sole purpose of her life. For needing to find happiness elsewhere and for not thinking you were enough. Even thinking about it now you realize how selfish it was. How you were tainting their experiences at the expense of your ridiculous outbursts. Thankfully, things were different now and the two of them have settled in your heart forever. Even though you and Taehyung would probably be buried six feet under still bickering in the afterlife.

Saturday mornings were finally alive again, bustling with social bodies strolling through the sidewalk between the red brick wall and the canal, stopping by all of the kiosks and stands featured in the annual market festival. Overhead there were string lights hung between the trees and the canal railing simulating the twinkling stars glimmering even during the brightest bits of the day.

Jung-hee, your step-father and your mother set-up the white tent enclosed with rectangular tables on three sides, all of them covered in white tablecloths and an abundance of upcycled and environmentally friendly jewelry. Of course, it only made so much sense to sell them here at the very place refusing to turn their lights off during the day.

“Did I hear the two of you arguing just now?” your mother shot the two of you a stern stare, her hand remained on her hip.

“Arguing?” you let out a derisive laugh.

“I may be old but my hearing still works.”

“No offense mama, but you might wanna clean your ears out cause there was absolutely no arguing here,” technically speaking you could tell the truth but she always made it her mission to punish the two of you if she caught you bickering in any way. And the last thing you felt like doing was cleaning up the stand after the market festival was over, “right, Tae?”

“Right,” he confirmed, “I’m as passive as the waves,” he flailed his arms mimicking the motion of the ocean, “I don’t even know what arguing is.”

“Not too much, Tae.” you smacked his arms down forcing them down to rest at his side.

“You know what? I don’t have time for this,” she brushed off the two of you and walked off in the direction of the parking lot, likely fetching something they’d previously forgotten.

“The two of you are gonna give your mother an aneurysm,” Jung-hee laughed while taking a seat on the stool by the register, “We all heard your bickering all the way here.”

What did he mean by all of us? You turned around reading the statue in Jimin figure as he leaned along the black railing, his attention entirely diverted to the phone sitting in his palm. As disappointing as it may be this was the extent of your interactions with Jimin, or the lack thereof rather. He was always right there. Right in front of you giving a new meaning to the word breathtaking and you were always willing to devote your undivided attention to him.

“Jimin, you are so fine. Please have my babies,” His voice was laced with mock and you just knew this was his attempt at working your remaining nerve. Surprise surprise, it worked.

“Jun sophomore year of college is going great thanks for asking,” you beamed, “Tae, how are you adapting to your classes?”

Deep; deeeep; deeeeeeeep down you knew it was kind of fucked to put Tae on the spot when you knew crystal clear he had been neglecting his classes for dance club but honestly you couldn’t say you were entirely sorry.

“Fuck you.” Taehyung mouthed quietly in your direction and your automatic response was to stick your tongue out at him.

“Right. Taehyung, how are classes going?”

“Well, they—they’re fine. .” Taehyung mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Why do you not sound convinced?” Jun crossed his arms at his chest. He furrowed his eyebrows in a tight knit and squinted his eyes.

“It’s as convincing as it's gonna get,” he shrugged.

Jun swiped his hands down his features resting them right under his chin. “Taehyung, you need to get your shit together or I will tell your mother. Besides college is expensive and if you’re gonna dick around just save me the money and drop out already,” As a father figure Jun wasn’t much of a scoulder. . But the disappointment in his words was as sharp as a bee’s stylet and his tone felt like the acidic painful venom the insect punctured through the skin.

“When it gets to that point, I’ll phone the neighborhood snitch to let you know.”

In case it wasn’t evident; you were the ‘neighborhood snitch’. When the two of you were smaller you had a habit of babbling redundant shit you swore to the grave. As it seems you weren’t much different as an adult either. It’s what resulted in you scoring the nickname indefinitely.

“Don’t blame me. I simply asked a question.”

“No,” Taehyung slouched back on the chair and pulled his phone out of his pocket, “you asked the wrong fucking question. You always do.”

“You could have just answered differently.”

“You know I crack under his disappointed tone,” Taehyung whined.

“In that case, it is not my fault you’re a weak little bitch.” Actually, it kind of—No, it definitely was.

“You better sleep with one eye open.”

If this was anyone else you would have been trembling with fear but empty threats were Taehyung’s forte. In the third grade you accidently broke his Spider-Man lunch box and after threatening to chop off one of your ponytails yet all had been forgiven by the time school was dismissed and the two of you skipped home happily, hand in hand. Fast forward to middle school the two of you got in trouble after you tripped and broke a vase in your parents room after wanting to sneak an early peek at your Christmas gifts. Again, he threatened to never speak to you again but a few hours the two of you were sipping hot cocoa while binging a holiday movie marathon.

Just baseless threats. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Can you two be quiet before your mom comes back?” Jun shook his head, “I should’ve gotten a vasectomy.”

“That only affects me, you ass,” Taehyung exclaimed.

“I would’ve given her up for adoption. Happy now?”

“Very.”

Jun pulled the cellphone from his back pocket reading his lit up screen, “your mother needs help, I’ll be right back. Behave please.”

“You got this right?” Taehyung scrambled up from his chair nearly sprinting away from the tent, not even sparing you a brief second to protest at his lack of assistance, “I need to, uh, go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Although, there was a steep vibrancy of livelihood that trotted through the festival you couldn’t help but be underwhelmed by the lack of tints missing within the blurred lines tracing the eyes, nose and lips of those around you. You convinced yourself that in the darkest of night, a thief had broken into the neighborhood homes with a mission to drain everyone of their glow—the spark that shone brightly, exuding your desire to live.

Everyone was missing it but Jimin wasn’t.

His luminance was everlasting and while all of those around him in the canal were bland; boring; in black and white. . His honeyed skin radiated a blinding radiance. One that snagged your attention and refused to let it go. His eyes were as dark and as bottomless as the deepest depths of the sea. And while you dove in them long ago. You remained floating on the surface hoping one day he would finally notice. The curves of his plump lips were filled in with a shade of rubicund, while a layer of gloss accentuated them. He was blanketed in the synonyms of impeccability.

Anatomy states there are over six hundred muscles in the human body. One hundred of those would be geared to speak to him. To approach him two hundred muscles would be required per step. While you were dazed in love-filled daydreams, your ideal boy began walking up to the jewelry stand. You attempted to use the seventeen muscles needed to smile in his direction but instead you froze in place.

“Hey,” his voice was flourishing like the emerging flower petals in the dawn of spring, “do you have any bead necklaces?”

Copious assumptions ran through your mind. Who did he want? No, who did he need a necklace for? Was he taken? Maybe someone who he deemed a potential interest.

If only he could hear the palpitations of your beating heart. Only if he knew how much you still liked him.

“Necklaces?” you muttered in a stupefied tone.

“Bead necklaces,” he repeated.

“Right. .” In the back of your mind you continuously kicked the incompetence away or at least tried to. Working against your glacialized muscles you pulled out two white trays from behind the table and laid them out in front of you. One was composed of gold and silver pieces while the other were some your mother made with more vibrant colors, “we have these available right now.”

“Which ones do you like?” he hummed, kneeling down in front of the table.

“As the sales attendant of this tent,” you shrugged, “I think I’m forced to say I like all of them.”

He emitted a chuckle so airy and light it felt like a crisp breeze sweeping by even on that scorching spring day, the sweat beads streaming down your temples were congealed, “I suppose that's how things are wired, huh?”

“That is what I’m here for,” you smiled slightly. There was a pinch in your heart as you formed your next words, “I might be able to form better assistance if I knew who this could be for.”

“My youngest brother,” he huffed, “his birthday’s in a couple of days.”

“Jungkook?” you asked.

“Yes. . You know him?”

“Only in passing,” you shrugged, “he’s best friends with my step brother, Taehyung.”

He snickered, “Oh. .Taehyung.”

“That is the only accurate response to the whirlwind individual that is Taehyung,” you shook your head, chuckling in the process.

“Funny, cause I would describe Jungkook the exact same way,” he brushes his dark locs away from his moistened forehead.

“They are soulmates after all.”

“What about you?” he began.

“What about me?”

“Is there anyone who holds such a title in your life?” his eyes turned to gold under the beams of the radiant sun. Spell written with poems about the beauty of the summer season featuring sonnets of love and fondness.

“Like a best friend?”

“I suppose,” there was a stammer in his words, “more like a soulmate bond at all.”

“Uh, I suppose not,” truly narrowing it down the stem of the current relationships in your life came root to sole acquaintances. Friends of friends or friendships you made in passing.

“Well we’re still young right?” Jimin reassured, “we have a lifetime of relationships to build.”

Less than an eternity, all you wanted was a single minute to peel back everything you felt for Park Jimin. Like a love struck idiot unable to form coherent sentences you nodded with your tongue caught in the back of your throat.

You didn’t desire a lifetime, you wanted to shout. All you needed was him.

“For Jungkook,” you cleared your throat, “I noticed he’s quite fond of the color black. Perhaps, something like this might suit him best.” You picked out a black spinel necklace composed of black beads with a silver chain in between each one.

“You have a keen sense for good taste,” the pads of his fingertips fluttered over the piece. His sensible touch traced over your fingers sending a chill racing through all ten of your fingers.

“It's the reason I was appointed employee of the month,” surely the wide grin sitting on your face was unsettling so you tried to tone it down as best you could, “should I pack this up for you?”

“Please,” he followed you over to the register, “thank you so much for all of your help.”

Grabbing the black square jewelry box you placed the necklace in it, before placing it in the small gift bag and handing it off to Jimin after he paid for it.

In your mind, the extent of your interaction was cherished but you couldn’t help the way your head raced through hundreds of scenarios to call him back. To scramble and make something up just to be able to see him again. It was a fervent feeling like a fire being fed more lighter fluid, unable to be extinguished.

But his back was all your eyes could meet and his strides were aimed towards his family’s rose stand on the other side of the sidewalk.

Everything played in slow motion, perhaps that is why you missed how sweet your name tasted being pushed past his lips. Lingers of daydreams trailed behind as you failed to separate fiction from reality.

To be fair, what had taken place for the past fifteen minutes seemed to be fabricated from the sweetest of dreams to visit you in the late hours of the night—then, you heard your name once again.

“Yes?” you finally snapped out of it.

“Will I see you at Jungkook’s birthday party?”

“I don’t know,” you weren’t really sure why you said that when in reality you wanted to go and spend more time with him.

“Come on,” he fidgeted with the silk string on the gift bag, “I promise I’ll keep you company.”

“Yeah, yeah. .” you nodded, “I’ll go.”

“Tomorrow at 6:30 at the beach spot behind our house,” he offered.

“See you there.”

When the market festival ended that day you were drained, entirely washed out by the lack of assistance provided from your family in managing the jewelry stand. Taehyung never showed up again from his trip to the bathroom and Jun and your mother left to look after the store a few blocks away.

The night has emerged and all you wanted was to sink into the comfort of your mattress.

“Are you gonna wait for me to get all of this down?” Jun continued storing away the few pieces you weren’t able to sell.

“Our apartment is just two blocks away. I’m too tired to wait, I’ll just walk it,” the slanting rays of the setting sun painted a warm orange tinge to the sky. It wasn’t too dark for an evening stroll and besides many stans were open and the sidewalks were still being occupied by dozens of people.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you taking the tent down too?”

“Are you and Taehyung still going to Jungkook’s birthday party?”

The thought of missing it couldn’t even cross your mind, “Yes.”

“Then, yes,” he pointed at the phone sitting beside him, “just please text me when you get home so I know you made it there safely.”

“I always do,” you kissed his forehead, “good night Jun.”

“Good night sweetie.”

Walking was its own form of therapy and while you had just worked on your feet all day, there was something about the way the cool wind swept against your body. Seeming as if just a few hours prior it hadn’t been the hottest day the spring season has had to offer thus far.

“As employees of the month I would have guessed your work hours would extend past 6pm,” Jimin pulled up next to you on his bright mint green bicycle.

“I was deserving of it when my lazy baby brother decided to ditch me hours ago,” you slowed down your power walk allowing him to also ride swiftly.

“You know, Jungkook did the same exact thing at the flower stand,” he hummed as if to raise suspicion. . rightfully so.

“Tae and Kookie are two peas in a pod,” you sighed, “God, knows what kind of trouble they’re stirring up.”

“I can only hope to be as far away as possible from the eruption whenever that trouble may explode.”

“Seriously.”

If a color palette could be assigned to each person in the world, Jimin would be composed of pastels. More specifically he would be portrayed in the delicate hues of yellow vivifying calmness, peacefulness, happiness.

“No cars out in the town today?” He pedaled slowly, still following your pace.

“You’re the one with the fancy cars here.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, “they’re barely fancy.”

“You’re such a liar,” you giggled, “but to answer your question I keep my car in the garage a lot of the time. Everything is at a walking distance and besides Taehyung is the one to drive us back from on the weekends.”

“Sounds like the makings of a passenger princess to me.”

“I wear the title proudly,” you smiled.

“In that case, hop on.” Jimin came to a halt in front of you.

“Like on the pegs?”

“You can always hop on the handlebars if you prefer that. .” he offered, patting the metal bar in front of him.

“I’ll take the pegs,” after securing your backpack to prevent it from falling, you placed both of your hands on his shoulders before climbing onto the wheel attachments, “where are we heading?”

“How do you feel about milkshakes?”

“Love them.”

“Then, we’re headed for milkshakes.”

On the back of Jimin’s bike you felt like the world glimmered in stardust, guzzled with the purest beauty you had ever witnessed. There was something about the golden tones of the sunset painted over the land while the wind continued brushing so tenderly against your face. And in that moment, you realized just how divine life truly was.

“I was not aware you had such an affinity for chocolate,” Jimin chuckled lightly, eyeing the chocolate milkshake and nutella waffles laid out in front of you.

“I guess I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

“A bit,” he laughed, “is putting it lightly.”

“Would it be categorized as an obsession in that case?”

“An obsession is the right label,” he took a bite from a single french fry.

Nightfall had finally fallen amongst the small town and while the sky was basking in utter blackness and twinkling of stars, you sat across from Jimin enamored by his mere presence.

The two of you decided on a booth by a large window—overlooking the lively atmosphere of the night life taking its course on college hill.

“Can I ask you something?” you played around with the straw sitting in your milkshake to ease the nervousness.

“Of course,” he sat up, russet eyes sternly casted on you, contributing further to your ecstatic nerves.

You cleared your throat, an attempt at trying to rid yourself of the lump residing in your throat, “Why did we ever stop talking?”

“I guess back then, I got in my own head,” he moved around in his seat continuously. Perhaps, scavenging for the right words, “after we began speaking on Hinge we never talked in school. Didn’t even spare each other a glance. After some time our conversations on the app also became scarce so I assumed you had found someone else.”

You shook your head quickly. Astounded that your lack of words had once pushed Jimin away, “There was never anyone else.”

“There was never anyone for me either,” his smile was tender, illuminating your night like the beams of moonlight, “but we were so much younger then. . and communication was not our strongest suit I suppose.”

“That’s definitely true.”

“The good thing about maturing is learning to communicate and I think we’ve both grown to overcome our limitations,” he offered, “and besides there’s always a chance for a fresh start.”

“Second chances are esteemed to vitality,” you chuckled, “and I think we owe each other at least one.”

“Yeah, I would say we’re due for one,” his lips stretched out into a wide grin, “although, can I apologize for the assumptions I made back then?”

The diner was still buzzing with conversations birthed from patrons who were still out enjoying the hours of the evening much like you and Jimin. With dimmed lights and the red leather covering the seats the set up was slightly romantic and you weren’t sure if he had brought you here on purpose (realistically this was the only milkshake spot near campus but you feed into your own delusions).

“In that case I’d have to apologize as well.”

“You know,” he fidgeted with the rings on his fingers, rotating the silver band against his honeyed skin, “I only walked up to your mothers tent for one reason.”

“What was the reason?”

“I wanted to be sure you still remembered me.”

“I could never forget you, Jimin.”

As time slowed you’d still felt it insufficient for the amount of hours you actually wanted to spend with Jimin. Talking each other’s ears off about anything that could be a topic of conversation. You just wanted to be embraced by his blanket of comforting words—the lusciousness of his voice. That is all you desired.

The real highlight of the night came when the two of you walked side by side under the starry night, though, his bike remained wedged between the two of you; while you were engaged in conversations, your hands met on the metal bars of his bicycle’ handle bars when you offered to help him push it.

Shocks of electrical currents waved through you as your palms met his hand. A feeling so addictive you wanted nothing more than to be consumed by it.

“Hey.” Taehyung leaned against the frame of your doorway, “how did your night end up?”

“Well even after you stranded me at the jewelry stand for the day, I still managed to salvage my night,” you threw one of plush cushions at him—clearly intending no damage but he caught it anyway.

Just like the numerous birds migrate during the autumn season; just as they did as soon as the leaves turned auburn, amber and mahony and you and Taehyung were eighteen year old high school graduates, the two of you left home for the city. Away from the soundtrack composed of the waves crashing against the golden shores; away from the ranch style homes and the peacefulness of the suburb style community. Realistically, an apartment downtown was more convenient for commuting college students than having to drive thirty minutes back and forth every single day.

“I’m sorry,” he laid down next to you on the bed, though his legs were still hanging off for the most part, “but that was my payback for what you pulled earlier. I still have dad blowing up my phone about my grades.”

“I’m sorry about that,” you began working random braids into his messy strands.

“Apology accepted,” he cleared his throat, “but on a more interesting note, Jungkook and I saw you and Jimin riding on his bike earlier tonight.”

“Oh yeah,” you tried to mask the excitement in your tone—keeping a steady monotone, “he came to talk to me while I worked the stand, then invited me out for milkshakes and to Jungkook’s birthday party.”

“Do I smell a crush to lovers trope finally taking its course here?” he sat up a bit still resting back on his elbows.

Your palms grew sweaty at the thought of seeing Jimin again at the end of the week, “I hope so. . I never thought he and I would speak again but here we are.”

“You know he’s never stopped talking about you once,” his boxy smile was synonymous to the warm embrace you wanted to cry out for at that very moment, “Jungkook told me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. That boy is always talking about you,” He got rid of his sweatshirt and laid back down on your bed, invading nearly all of your pillows. So laid back. As if he hadn’t just revealed that Jimin still likes you, “what are we watching tonight?”

You felt your body levitating right off the mattress but somehow your hand still managed to pass him the TV remote, “you pick something tonight.” Reaffirmations of Jimin’s unspoken sentiments tickled your stomach and stole your attention from whichever horror movie Taehyung decided on. Instead you were shaken with anticipation to see Jimin again, it’s all you could think about.

For the first time since moving into the city the drive back home felt different. Your timorous state attributed to your moistened palms, the incessant bouncing of your leg and the fact that you couldn’t maintain a single stature in the passenger seat.

“Hey,” Taehyung placed his hand on your shoulder while maintaining eye contact on the road, “are you doing okay over there?”

You nodded slowly, then remembered he couldn’t actually see you, “I’m fine.”

“You seem. . queasy,” he suggested.

“I’m not queasy,” you argued, “besides aren’t you a bit nervous about all this?”

“About having the house to ourselves and partying tomorrow?” You hummed but he replied: “No, I don’t. I’m actually a normal person.”

“It’s not about being normal, you asshole.”

“No, it’s about Jimin. Right?” The octave in his voice rose, likely to mimic yours. Kissing noises came from his side of the car as he puckered his lips in a taunting manner.

“It’s not. .” But it was. Your brain felt as it had been liquified and where excitement became puddled its remnants drew dangerously close to doubt. Causing you to overthink Jimin’s intentions behind his invitation. Did he just feel obligated to invite you after you sold him that necklace?

Taehyung pulled into your parents’ driveway taking the key out of the ignition, “come one, spit it out. What are you thinking about?”

“I just-” you sighed, “I just want things to go well this weekend.”

“Listen, it is just a party. OK?” He slouched back in the driver’s seat, “If you need to leave at any point we’ll bounce no questions asked.” You nodded, reaching for the door handle but he called your name drawing your attention back towards him.

“He likes you,” he reassured, likely to ease your nerves—he was your brother after all, and he knew exactly what you were anxious about, “but if tomorrow you happen to find out he is not the one for you, don't let your vibrance diminish. Jimin is amazing but only you can ignite your spark and maintain it alight. Not him.”

“Thank you, Taehyung,” it’s hard to pinpoint the exact day when your younger brother grew to be so wise. If there was one thing you were certain of though, it was that despite all the bickering you were glad Taehyung walked into your life. You didn’t know where you’d be without him, “Love you.”

“Love you, loser.”

The rest of the night came at a steady pace and was composed of pizza and yet another scary movie marathon you were left to finish on your own as Taehyung snored away beside you on the couch. You placed a pillow underneath his head and tucked him in with the blanket he brought down for the two of you. Suddenly, there was a light knock at the door, startling you entirely. Looking out the peephole you noticed Jungkook and Jimin standing on the other side of the door.

“Hey,” you opened and stood, allowing them to come in, “I didn’t know you guys were coming over.”

“I texted Tae,” Jungkook said walking towards the living room entrance disappearing into the room shortly after, “let me guess he’s already sleeping?”

“He’s an early bird. You already know.”

“Two nights ago,” Jimin began following behind you as you walked into the kitchen, “ I forgot to ask you a very important question.”

“There were more questions?” You asked jokingly, setting out two shot glasses and pouring some of the clear alcohol into both of them. You weren’t quite sure why your automatic response to having Jimin in your vicinity was to consume alcohol. Perhaps, it was your pregamed liquid courage in anticipation for the boost of confidence you were likely to need. The back of your throat was set ablaze under an earnest fire as a result of the vodka. Feeling like your body lost its touch with gravity and you were slowly ascending into space. Across from you, and after the second shot the two of you have chugged Jimin’s eyes crinkled up interpreting the delicate nature of his very endearing smile. But it didn’t stop there. Your drunken gaze examined him thoroughly while he succeeded in personifying the meaning of alluring in a just black t-shirt and sweats which he paired with messy dark strands still a bit damp, likely from a recent shower. Surely, a million songs could be written around Jimin easily.

“Yeah, I forgot the most important question actually,” he leaned back against the counter tops.

“What did you forget?”

“Your number. I never asked for it,” he said in a slight stutter. “Stupid I know, but once I made it home I realized I had no way of talking to you.”

“You could have had Jungkook ask Taehyung or something.”

“I thought about that but then I realized it’d be better if I was the one asking as opposed to having my younger brother ask yours,” he shrugged.

“Well,” you hopped on the counter taking a seat right by where he stood. Your shoulders rubbed against each other, “you can always ask now.”

“I don’t know. I feel like being an angsty teenager,” he giggled, “I like the feeling of the butterflies in my stomach when I think of you. And staying up late replaying every second of any instant we happen to cross paths.”

“I wasn’t aware you were such a hopeless romantic,” You kept your eyes glued to his magnetic gaze softened by a deep shade of brown. The same shade of behind by the sun’s kisses, exuding warmth, fondness and compassion drawing you in slowly.

“I’ve always been all about romance darling,” He turned his head towards you closing the little gap which once separated the two of you. Jimin’s aura was intoxicating like the drinks you had downed and you became hazed by the close proximity; growing even more tipsy off his fragrance of lavender with hints of vanilla.

“You’ve yet to sweep me off my feet,” that was a big fat lie. A mere fabrication in your attempt at teasing him just as he was.

“Gimme an hour and I guarantee you will be head over heels for me,” he murmured jokingly with a smile painted delicately on his features.

“Sixty minutes is simply too much,” you placed your palm to the nape of his neck, not really guiding him anywhere but still hoping he’d read it as a signal in your urgency to have him close that little gap that still existed between the two of you, “when it could only take a second for you to finally kiss me.”

Jimin froze as he processed the nature of your words. “Kiss me, Jimin,” you repeated, the bitter taste of the vodka remained tainting your tongue—pulling things out of you which you would never say out loud. Damn liquid courage.

Jimin placed both of his velvet palms to your cheeks leading you towards his lips at an agonizing pace. The closer the two of you became the more your stomach twisted in anticipation—honestly the knot in the pit of your stomach grew a bit painful but you found pleasure in the way his touch felt against your skin. It was even warmer than his gaze, sweeter than his words, you were drunk-dazed and his lips hadn’t even met yours yet.

“I’ve been dreaming about feeling your lips against mine for a long time. You know.” The pads of his thumbs brush against your chin sweetly as his pillowy lips left their phantom touch against yours. Your eyes were shut tightly but you could feel the way he placed soft kisses on the peaks of your mouth.

“Jimin. .” you whined practically begging him to give you what you craved for. “Please.”

“Darling, please say my name like that more often.”

Behind his alluring words there was little intent to supply your requests—he was not going to kiss you. Not because he didn’t want to but simply because he treasured the way you responded to him. He enjoyed the way your skin became covered in goosebumps at the utters of his words and the way your requests became insistancies to have him near. He was evil, a demon reincarnated and while you wanted to continue playing along you knew that the scenario would carry on for too long and your brothers’ still sat waiting for the two of you to join them in the next room.

You placed your hands on top of his before peeling them off your face softly before stumbling off the counter. You moved closer to his right cheek and gave him a tender peck before whispering, “I will. Maybe.”

“Wait!” He called out, mumbling a few curses the farther away you got from him. You chuckled lightly feeling victorious in game of teasing the two of you had initiated.

Taehyung and Jungkook sat side by side on the couch despite it being big enough to sit six comfortably. The two of them stared directly at you while you took a seat on the other end of the couch.

“What are you so smug about?” Taehyung asked, pausing the movie and redirecting their attention to you.

“I’m not.”

“Where’s Jimin?” Jungkook asked.

“Ho-How should I know he’s your brother?” the bit of alcohol in your system loosened up your tongue.

“I’m right here,” Jimin entered the living room hurriedly, taking a seat beside you. The lack of space between the two of you caused the temperature to rise allowing the room to grow unbearably hot, “sorry, I was in the bathroom.”

“Hm,” Taehyung hummed suspiciously.

“Could it really be a coincidence that the two of you came in from your little escape at the same exact time?” Jungkook added.

“Totally,” you nodded repeatedly, “it is absolutely a coincidence.”

“Definitely,” Jimin agreed, “now play the movie before the hours keep on rolling by.”

You were not trying to be difficult but parties were really not your scene. In the past, Taehyung would drag you along to these things as a plus one while he flourished in his extroverted nature. Usually you found yourself glued to the nearest corner, mounted to the wall like an old painting invisible to the wandering eye.

“Hey,” Jimin sat on the white kalicki chair beside you. Above the white sand and just inches away from the crashing of the cerulean waves the two of you became wrapped in each other’s presence. “Here, all I could find was a ginger ale. I hope you don’t mind.”

In the passing of time you realized social settings drained you rather quickly. There was just something so distasteful about having to buzz around initiating casual conversations which often led nowhere with people you’d probably never interact with again. You just hoped Jimin hadn’t gotten the wrong impression when he found you making a break for a clear escape.

“I’m sorry I kind of left you back there,” you swiped your finger around the metal rim of the can, “it just gets overwhelming sometimes.”

“I get it,” he took a sip of his drink, “party’s aren’t usually your thing” He didn’t wait for your response before adding, “I’ve noticed.”

“You’ve noticed?” You turned to your side on the chair now facing him as he nodded, smirking all while averting eye contact.

“I have.” He began, “you’re laid back—quiet. Not like one of those girls who try too hard to be mysterious, you just are. You’re very observant and you drink people’s every move. Oh, and you tend to keep to yourself a lot.”

“You make me sound so bland.”

“From my perspective, it just makes me want to get to know you even more,” he corrected himself, “-even more than the last time,” back then your heart beat so hard for Jimin and today it still thumped at your chest even harder, “I just can’t seem to figure out one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Well parties aren’t your thing right?”

You nodded, “right.”

“And you just accepted my invitation?”

“I almost didn’t,” you confessed, “but. .”

“But. .” he repeated almost in the form of a question. Your stomach began to churn as a result of your nervousness and you could feel the burning sensation of the regurgitation burning the back of your throat. Although, you desperately scavenged for the right words and sentence structure, all of it just launched itself out of your system. Suddenly, you were left in the chair across from Jimin looking nothing short of a jest.

His patience was reassuring but you knew you were being selfish, “because having you stand across from me for the past two springs at the market festival without having the wit to be able to speak to you killed me agonizingly slowly.”

“Jimin. .” you muttered.

“But I lost every once of my sanity this past weekend. I saw you and. .” he paused almost in a halt like he was taking himself back to relive that very day, “You can call it over confidence but my basis for going up to you was that I’d caught you staring at me from the jewelry stand.”

Suddenly, the heat became scorching even for the early-ish spring season. Although the sun wasn’t as punishing as it would be in a couple of months you could feel its rays burning up your skin.

“Please tell me that I didn’t just imagine all of it.”

“I know we were kind of tipsy but I was practically throwing myself at you last night, Jimin. Of course, I like you.”

Jungkook’s party turned to an event of the past the minute Jimin interlaced his fingers with yours. He led you through the Millennia property, Jungkook’s extravagant black and gold decor and up the stairs to his room, realistically you couldn’t even attest to the maneuvering of your own two feet. Feeling entirely stupefied by the sensation of his velvet palms in yours.

The clicking sound of the door shutting was your wake-up call and finally you were aware of the predicament you’d walked into.

You and Jimin were entirely alone in his room unbeknownst to how you managed to travel through the four digit acres making up the estate plus the scattered party goers and the beds of the multi-colored Floribunda Roses that were now in season.

“Go on enlighten me,” he took a seat on the gaming chair across the room while you remained at your awkward stature by the door, “you enjoy looking at my face?”

“I never put it like that.”

He shrugged, slouching down in his seat. His wide spread legs were aimed in your direction, “it’s how I heard it.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you crossed your arms on your chest, “I’ve decided to stop feeding your ego.”

“That’s OK.” He whispered, “I have your confession ingrained into my head. Looping over and over and over again.”

You shook your head still maintaining a safe distance between the two of you, “Don’t.”

“What? Can I not replay your love-tuned words? The shadows of your lips still lurking on mine?”

“Just—”you fidgeted with the silver band on your thumb. Twisting it softly as a distraction from Jimin’s words.

“You do that a lot, you know.”

“What?”

“You always say or do something so endearing and so grand,” Jimin sighed, “And then you—you just hold back. What are you so afraid of?”

“There are many things to fear.”

“I like you and you like me. . There is nothing to be apprehensive about.”

“You like me?” you asked almost stunned although in the back of your mind you were sort of certain of his intentions.

“I have never masked my feelings for you.”

“You have certainly not been entirely transparent,” you huffed, “this is the first time you actually spell it out for me.”

“I like you. .” he stammered, standing up from his seat on the chair and walking towards you, “I like you. I fucking like you so much. Do you want me to actually spell it out?”

His hands found their nook on your waist and he began guiding you backwards until your back met the frigid. Even though your eyes were closed you could sense the desperation in his touch as his caresses moved to explore every inch of your neck and face.

“I-L-I-K-E-Y-O-U,” he spelled out, holding your hand up against his chest. “Come here. Feel how fast my heart beats just having you so near.”

“Jimin,” you breathed out, “Jimin.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. You nodded.

Finally, the long anticipation bubbling in the pit of your stomach ceased and your lips were cushioned in the embrace of his sweet kisses. And in that moment the world ceased to exist, all that paraded around in your head were thoughts of Jimin and Jimin only.

In your perception of time the kiss was short lived but quickly the two of you became engulfed in the gloomy waves of his bed and as you swam around you began drowning in his aroma left behind tainting his sheets.

“Jimin, I want you.” A burning desire trickled on every inch of your skin; the only thing to cease the aching feeling was his soothing touch. “Please.”

“Are you sure? There’s a party just outside—”

“I’m sure,” you interrupted.

Even though you were lulled in the softness of his lips on your neck you could still feel the way his right hand dipped under the neckline of your dress, meeting your breast once and for all. He caressed it softly, slightly pinching your nipple every once in a while.

It remained in that course for a while until you finally grew exasperated by his laggard pace.

“Can I?” you asked, pointing at his hand. After his reassuring nod you began guiding his hand down the valley of your breasts and over the route of your stomach leading him right to the hemline of your panties.

“I just want to. .” he looked between your face and where his hand rested, “want to make sure that this is what you actually want.”

“I led you where I need you, Jimin. I want this, believe me,” you left a soft peck on his rose lips.

“Don’t be afraid to speak up with me. Ok?”

You chanted a string of slurred ok’s before Jimin dipped his hand under the cotton material of your underwear. Immediately, his digits began tracing long strides between your lips, spreading the pool of slickness building up at your entrance, “tell me what you like.”

You hummed, unable to form coherent words, divulged in the feeling of his quickening strokes on your clit, “Tell me.”

“Just. .” you breathed out, “just don’t stop.”

“Is this as far as you wanna go today darling?” he asked, “because I could cum just watching you crumble at the mercy of my fingers.”

“All.” You moaned, “I want—want it all.”

His fingers were laced with spells of pleasure, Jimin was ready to cast them all upon you without as much as a second thought and you loved every second of it. Especially, when you felt him push past your entrance slowly, pumping those blessed fingers of his in and out of you.

Looking down you saw the floral pattern of your dress hiked up above your belly button and his hand moving forward and backward in-between your legs. Though, you couldn’t visually see his fingers disappear inside if you, you could feel the way your walls clenched around his slender fingers.

“Oh my God. . Jimin,” you couldn’t help but shout through the waves of pleasure taking their course all throughout your body.

He quickly hushed you, “I need you to keep it down. Yeah?” You nodded. It was the only response your body could muster up as he continued. Jimin’s uneven breathing and your suppressed moans bounced off the eggshell walls. A medley which serenaded your ears in the best way.

“I’m so close, Jimin.”

“Let go, darling,” he continued, “cum for me.”

His pleads of encouragement had you squirming under his touch. Entirely consumed in the feeling traveling through your body when you finally let go. And just as before there you were standing amongst the endless field of lilac lavenders swaying in the direction of the wind. If this is what dreams were made of, you never wanted to waste another second awake.

“You look so fucking hot like this,” Jimin plopped down beside you.

“You still seem to be in need of some extra attention,” you looked down at the perfectly structured pyramid composed of his jeans.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Jimin,” your voice was barely above a whisper, “fuck me.”

Words were scarce in the presence of passion and desire and you’d admit there wasn’t an outcome in the events of the day where your body wasn’t calling out for Jimin desperately.

“Are you sure?”

“Please.”

Though your experience pertaining to sexual endeavors was scarce, you had to admit sex was a beautiful thing although your perception of the act could have certainly been biased towards the man whom you currently laid under.

There was something addicting in the way his toned arms cemented you in the center of his bed, sweat beads adorning his temples, his sculpted figure hovered over you as he worked to mold your insides with his cock.

“Don’t—stop—please,” you puffed in between each word.

His grunts echoed through the room. Jimin’s concern for the party going on just outside the door was no longer a priority. All you managed was jumbled gibberish while he continued sinking deep in your insides and slowly pulling back out.

A perfect addition to all of the combinations which existed in the world. Your pussy and Jimin’s cock.

So fucking perfect.

“Fuck!” you balled a hand of his sheets in your fists.

His mission to find your push to insanity has been accomplished and his head repeated its attack on your g-spot until once again your moans were too loud to suppress and until your voice became hoarse as a result.

“You’ve been so good, darling,” he fell on top of you, visibly exhausted—the two of you were half clothed and obviously too tired to do much of anything. Jimin’s head rested on your chest and while you played with his dark hair, he drew mindless shapes onto your bicep, “can I officially call you my girlfriend after tonight?”

“I’ll be yours if you promise to be mine.”

“Always.”

“Always,” you grinned.

-

-

AN: this is semi-ok ?? i don’t even know but let me know what you think. also don’t you just love the spring time?

reblogs, likes, comments, replies are always appreciated 🫶🏽

[lokisasylum]

I wish people would STOP tagging Jimin in shit post that have nothing to do with him. Its getting tiring having to block every 5 blogs I come across on the #Jimin, when all I want is to see JIMIN POSTS.

[jmdbjk]

Oh, Jimin...

These are my personal impressions, thoughts, interpretations and opinions on Jimin’s solo FACE album. Some of the things I say here are built on things I know from past original content, interviews and what Jimin has shared personally. Some of it is just me reveling in my first experience with Jimin’s long awaited album. 

It is such a serious album. Jimin said this is the story of what he was feeling, chronologically, 2020-2022, during the pandemic era. At the beginning of 2020, BTS was rising higher than any Korean artist ever had before and then all of a sudden the momentum came to a halt, and there was nothing. Having the life you’ve known suddenly jerked away from you is traumatizing. 

Once the king of social media, Jimin almost ceased by the end of 2020 and never went back. “Oh, he just outgrew it.” No, the man was struggling with his issues and not only did he not need to see the extra crap spewed all over social media but he had nothing left to give, nothing left inside. 

I noticed how Jimin looked physically back in 2020. He was downright frail y’all. The man was trying to give us what we wanted at the expense of his mental and physical health. That breakdown he had during the ending ments in Memories 2020 was too much. They were all stressed out, but Jimin... those that said he was being over dramatic... the man was struggling with his mental health.

I wrote this last June, 2022 but never posted it: 

After Memories 2020 dropped, we’ve heard Jimin say he struggled after everything got canceled. Days upon days that turned into months upon months and more than two years passed before they finally returned to in-person performances. He stated that during isolation and lockdowns he wondered what was the purpose of his life, or that he had lost his purpose.

Jimin’s struggles were most likely much more severe than he let on and he 100% kept it to himself because he didn’t want us to worry about him. That sounded like solo delusional projection but think about Jimin and how he’s behaved in the past...always telling us not to worry. Always saying things to reassure us that he’s happy, he eats well, don’t worry.

There was no working, no performing, their lives and his life changed drastically overnight just like all of ours did. Would we ever get back to normal? What will happen in the future? When will all of this end? 

Face-Off

The album opens with a carnival calliope, it was a little jarring and unexpected. The images it conjured in my brain as the notes played were of a worn out circus winding down. It made me think of the big wild circus that WAS his life, and it just wound down and keeled over. 

Knowing the premise of the album, I think the title, Face-Off, implies Jimin is looking at himself. Speaking to himself. The lyrics could also imply he is speaking to someone else, like people he once trusted. But I don’t think so. 

He was having a confrontation with himself. Reasoning and bargaining with himself.

Maybe he once trusted himself but in this time and place in which he finds himself, he questions what is he doing? and second guessing himself. Day in and day out, the days are all the same nothingness. Hiding his feelings, faking it, pretending it was all ok. It’s all cool. It’ll be all right. He has said many times he looks back at that time and thinks he could have done more for the fans. Being hard on himself. His own worst critic. 

And then this enters the picture: using alcohol to self-medicate. Getting drunk. Numbing the pain. Forgetting. Drink all night. Oh, Jimin...

We know he has a very high alcohol tolerance. He once mentioned that he used to drink a lot. When he declined the champagne during the live after the Busan concert, we all made jokes about it and moved on. Oh, Jimin. 

Face-Off feels like it could have been a purging song when he wrote it. A little primal, you know... just scream, get it out. Painful but cathartic. 

This is the lyric that was scary: “tonight is a beautiful night, I think I’m close (or I think I have it all/I think I’ve found myself)” were chilling to me because they did not come across as optimistic, they came across as being at the end of one’s rope after becoming a shell of a person. He follows that line with “tonight I don’t want to be sober.” Oh, Jimin. 

His vocals open very low and moody then transition to a plaintive cry, punctuated with anger. 

Pour it down, pour it out... the anger, the emotions, the words, just pour it out. 

Interlude: Dive

Like the calliope that sadly wound down, Dive opens with the melody slowly winding back up to speed. Another day starting. Someone knocks, voices, the ambience of a normal day, breathing, running footsteps. The crowd cheering and Jimin’s voice during his ending ments at the Busan concert, more sounds of people in his life. We hear Jimin’s footsteps trudging, it sounds like we hear him climbing steps, entering his house, closing the door, and first thing he does when he is alone in the quiet is pour a drink and drinking deeply. I am concerned. 

Maybe it is supposed to represent the closing of Chapter 1, about a day in the past that was once a “normal” day, since it included the last things he said during that concert.

The music track is dreamlike, repetitive. Living in a dream. Every day. Same thing. Go home. Drink. Do it again. Dive means go deep. In deep. He’s in deep. 

There is a very subtle line between drinking in order to make it through another day/night versus drinking to relax and wind down. A slippery slope to walk on every single day.

We’ve transitioned from the world changing overnight to living in a daze trying to pretend everything is ok. Coping.

Like Crazy

(I am going to express my thoughts using the English version of the song.)

Jimin has explained the song is influenced by the movie of the same name. 

I have learned that the dialogue from the movie was NOT original to the movie but hired voice actors specifically for the song: “I think we can last forever.” “I’m afraid that everything will disappear.” “Just trust me.” And at the end: “How long again?” “What’s the point?”

He has said the dialogue that was used fit the message of the song. I have not seen the movie. I don’t think the song is a literal interpretation of the movie. I think the song’s basic concept is the emotional struggle trying to maintain a dream. But maintaining a dream is unrealistic no matter what you do to try to make it last. Jimin had to come to terms with that.

Jimin’s vocals begin very light and airy, very dreamy. 

[God, he’s fine.]

The vibe of the song is sort of retro, very much evokes the artist, The Weeknd. It has a very 80′s synth beat. It is a very danceable song. Like I said, on the surface.... very dreamy.

Vocals transition and it still seems like he’s having a conversation with himself, or with a voice within himself. A voice telling him to “trust me, follow me... I will make it good for you.” Me: gives a side eye to that voice in Jimin’s head because now I know it’s not trustworthy. “I’ll take the pressure off, been reaching for the stars.” Chasing that high. Go easy, Jimin. Please be careful.

Yes, the lyrics are also very sexy... “give me a good ride,” and “Let me have a taste.” Yep, I’m with ya on all that... ahem... 

[Wow]

[side note: I love the make up in the bathroom scene with that stroke of silver under his eye.]

“All my reflections, I can’t even recognize.” ...what he sees of himself is not reality. He doesn’t recognize himself. Don’t try to save me. I want to stay like this. 

To me, the mud on the floor, the mud flowing down the walls, the mud on the hand that grabs his wrist at the beginning of the song, the mud on his hand at the end... could represent his perceived imperfections, flawed, therefore dirty: his struggle to cope, his less than perfect thoughts... substance abuse... the struggle that he needs to be perfect on the outside or the attempt to appear perfect on the outside but there’s all this dirt on the inside that he can’t hide any longer.....the huge pile of mud at his feet is out of place in the otherwise normal room of his life. Becoming overwhelming for him.

Some of the visuals of this song are, to put it bluntly, very, not heterosexual. Again, these are just my impressions and opinions. But a friend pointed out the photo on the front of his pants and I went looking for information about the art photographer, Robert Mapplethorpe. He was heavily involved in New York’s gay BDSM scene. Some of the things written about him: 

“In a rapidly changing society, he fearlessly confronted taboos surrounding gender, sexuality and mortality, seeking to instill beauty and dignity into subjects that lay outside accepted social norms.”

“... a man who consistently brought his audience face to face with the unknown and the unseen.”

The song ends with him reaching toward the camera to smear it with the mud to hide his imperfect self. When Jimin puts his face in front of the camera, he doesn’t want us to see his imperfections. He wants to be as perfect as he can, he says it all the time, he wants to look pretty for us, but I hope he has realized we accept him as a real human being even with his very human imperfections. 

Alone

The alarm clock goes off...yet another day...doesn’t trust the people even if they are nice to him...he’s lost...day in day out... passing out drunk and not remembering...what am I doing? am I the only one feeling like this? Alone, pretending to be ok...every day the same...how much more until I can go back to before? Feeling more and more isolated within his own mind, pretending to be ok but losing himself every day. Mayday. The cry for help. Telling himself it will be all right (we all told ourselves this back then). The small nagging voice that doesn’t believe it. 

Realizing you’ve changed and you are never going back to the way you were before. 

Not gonna lie, that line right there broke my heart. Gives new meaning to Set Me Free Pt. 2′s line: "raise your hands for the past me.” 

He was in so much trouble and no one knew. He reassured us over and over that he was fine. Not to be over-dramatic but I don’t want to think about how close he was... I have seen a few people say this song really resonated with them. It is a very powerful cry for help.

Jimin’s vocals blew me away. The vocals start out very subdued, almost beaten down. His vocal fry squeezes my heart. He ends crying out “what do I have to do to end this darkness?” Bad twilight. Night’s can be hard.

Set Me Free Pt. 2

From my post on March 17, 2023:

Going insane to stay sane. Raise your hands for the past me. Now set me free. This is where I literally cried. Oh, Jimin.

Going crazy trying to fake being ok. 

Now I know this song is about him saving himself, setting himself free from this prison he was in, the depression, breaking the chains of alcohol dependency, of telling the naysayers out there and his own internal naysayer to go fuck themselves, Park Jimin is back. Strong and beautiful and fierce. The light of the moon shining on us. 

We know he still considers soju his joy. He sounds like he’s taken control, not totally abstaining, but in control. I only wish the rest of his days are happiness and stable mental health well-being. 

Letter

So unexpected. I was in shock. My heart floated away. 

People talk about how Jimin’s album has no collabs on it, unlike the previous member’s solo work. My opinion is, when you are sharing deeply intimate feelings and emotions and struggles about yourself you don’t want or need other people/voices on your song. It’s not appropriate. 

The only exception to this was… Jungkook…not exactly a collab, but he’s there. The other songs used background vocalists who are not members of BTS. 

This song was hidden. Yes, there have been other hidden songs. But come on...

Letter has a strong stroke of Promise in the “oh, oh.” And when Jungkook starts singing it is like the world is set right because those two voices blend like nothing else I’ve ever heard. And he comes in in the middle of the song gently supporting Jimin’s vocals. But unmistakably Jungkook. I know it’s up to interpretation, but for me, the lyrics from then on take on something a little extra in meaning with Jungkook there singing with Jimin. 

You held your hand out to me and now I will hold on to you. So simple and beautiful. The sounds of the surf remind me of the song “Okinawa” that Jimin posted once. Which also reminds me of their pics at Santa Monica beach...

Letter seems to be an actual letter. When the members told him to write it down, put it in a song, maybe Jimin’s first impulse was to write it as if it was a letter. The lyrics are simple and very to the point and convey:

“...though I’m not good with words, I want to sincerely say let’s make each other happier. You who showed me I am bigger than my small self. You've been by my side and I will be by yours. I hope we stay together until the cold winter. Though the future is unknown and scary, let’s stay together. Never forget we’re together.”

There are references to past songs: Sea, Spring Day. Both of those songs were from 2017. 

But Jungkook. On a Jimin song. That was hidden. Clever. That we had no idea about...even though Kookie knocked us over the head with it when he played the guitar for us, making sure we knew he’d only had one lesson. Who do you think gave him that first guitar lesson? Jimin... and Kookie blurting out some English in his last live... who do you think he’s been practicing English with? Duh, Jimin. 

It was a hidden song AND the credits were hidden on the page in the book. They were printed in varnish only, which is basically shiny, clear ink.

You know what I think? Jungkook knew about this song since Festa dinner. The teasing about not being offered the chance to listen to the song. That little shit. I KNOW IT WAS THIS SONG!! I JUST KNOW IT!! This was the rumored subunit. Or at least one of them. I guess we’ll eventually see if there are any more between the others.

They sound so beautiful together. I love them. And as I keep saying, they are fine… they’ve been fine.

Last words...

Anyway, that was a lot of words. Maybe I got too deep. Jimin explained himself about how the album originated. 

As I was telling my friend earlier...everything in this album has peeled a layer, or several layers, away from EVERYTHING I've seen and heard from Jimin and the group since 2020. I had written some things in the past, like last June and even before that, about how Jimin seemed not well mentally. Things that I had no business saying in public because who the hell am I to think I can say something like that about someone I have never met? So I never posted those words. I never thought I would be so close to the mark in thinking those things. He’s been through it, wrote songs about it, and moved on. And I am so proud of him and this album. 

[userjiminie]

the bickering old couple from Busan cr. moreloveforhobi

[5and3nevermind]

Looks like people need a timeline refresher. No, things haven’t changed between Yoongi and Jimin. You feel like they’ve changed because you’ve forgotten that the new content we’re getting didn’t happen yesterday.

And you’re forgetting that it happened in the midst of this:

And less than two months after this:

And not long after this:

And about six months after this:

And it happened before this:

Relax. They’re fine.

[xcziel]

has anybody else thought about how jk could easily manage sofia's parts of slow dance or is it just me?

[latetaektalk]

update.

hi there!! its me, linh. and i have an update to give.

it probably surprises no one, but i think its time for me to officially announce that its the end of my time here on tumblr. trust me when i say that i say this with a heavy heart. over the past few months i just realised that ive just kinda outgrown (that sounds so weird to say) writing, tumblr and even kpop in a way.

regarding love to hate you, im so deeply sorry that this how the series is coming to an end, or well... its not. but i really havent felt the desire to touch it at all. or anything for that matter. i will hold that series near and dear to my heart and forever cherish it for how much fun i had creating it. im sorry for leaving it on such a note but i hope you guys can understand and still appreciate the chapters i offered to you guys.

i will keep the blog up, so you guys can go back and read their silly little story again and again. (for those who really really need to know if they make it or not, i will put it in the tags)

and for those few who care, ive been doing really good! im really happier than ever but busier than ever too (uni has been kicking my ass). still, these past few months have been so fun for me and i hope the same applies to you all!!

if you guys want to, you can send me messages because i will still log on every now and then to check up on things. because even though tumblr isnt really a part of my daily routine anymore, i did gain a lot of love for it over the past few years. and hell if the writing itch catches me again, maybe i will post something. its a big maaaybe and right now it looks pretty unrealistic given how busy i am, but never say never i guess

so, it looks like this is a goodbye. but its a good one, a really good one. and i hope you guys understand and see it that way too!!

linh.

[sexydreamgirl]

to that 75k girl, to stay in the present moment, the I am state i just script. i'd say "tomorrow im going shopping with the 75k"

literally operate daily how'd you operate with the 75k. dont worry about how and when, because you already have it. would you worry about how if you already have it?

truth: i have the 75k im literally shopping because of it, i literally quit my job because of it i literally married Jimin because of it

lie: i dont have it yet!

.

[minggukieology]

Jungkook live (2/11) titled 힘드러어엉 (tireeeed *with aegyo)

Jungkookie came live today to show us he is starting his boxing lessons again!! He also mentioned he cut his bangs because they were getting too long so we got to see his new cute hairstyle 🥹❤️

Then we got the cutest Jikook screen/comments interactions and Jimin was once again offered to join Jungkook for his live 🥹

At the beginning, Jimin left these comments:

"Jeikei"

"Teacher ~~" (seonsaengnim + implied tone with the characters)

"I miss youu" (written in aegyo, this was addressed to the teacher/trainer because Jimin wrote high formal 보고싶습니다 in a cute way, so it is obvious he knows him well enough to act cutely towards him but with respect ofc 😄)

To which Jungkook responded excitedly with a huge smile:

"Oh Jimin! Jimin hyung came!

Teacher (seonsaengnim)! Jimin hyung came on here! (referring to Weverse comments)

Hyung, Jiminie hyung you should start boxing too!

(the trainer starts speaking to Jimin in between, inviting him over)

Hyung, you were told to come!~ hyung you should do boxing!

I am starting now again too, having rested..."

Jimin responded to that with:

kkkkkkkkk yes kkkkkk don't wait for me kkk

Jungkook then passed on this message to the trainer that they shouldn't wait for Jimin this time 😄 Then finally adding when talking to the trainer:

"Jimin hyung will probably come together with me when there is a chance."

As Jungkook was training hard Jimin left this comment which made my heart melt again 😭

"Right that's good, grow up like this so you (can) protect hyung" (referring to himself)

Closeness, cute and loving nature are pouring out of both Jimin and Kook these days and I love we can see a few glimpses of it 🥹💗

Then towards the end, Jungkookie made this cute ending ment which made me laugh so hard:

"You worked hard" 👍 (referring to the audience)

"Ah no it was me that worked hard"

Loved this short live so much! Jungkook is the most adorable soul 💜

[aseaofyoongi]

we belong together | ch.1

min yoongi x reader (f)

genre: min twins au; angst; smut; arranged marriage themes; fake dating; enemies to lovers; slow burn

rating: mature audiences only (18+)

word count: 8,8 thousand words

summary: before college you and your bestfriend yoongi promised your parents if you were to come back home single you would begin dating to marry as a way to get them to back off your love lives. upon coming back however, although you’re both single, yoongi is in love with someone else and unwilling to let them go. unfortunately, you are left to carry out the hapless promise with yoongi’s twin brother and your sworn enemy min yoojin.

warnings: arranged marriage themes; slowburn; enemies to fake dating to eventual lovers;bickering; wet dreams, post college au; clitorial stimulation; fingering; denial/supression of feelings; sexual tension; brief mention of choi soobin of txt; secrets; chapter one set up like an intro; this is unedited so sorry for mistakes now.

posted: november 27, 2022 at 9:20pm

previous: teaser | next: part 2

-

-

Confined.

That’s the feeling you’ve been consumed by for a sizable amount of your life. As if you were utterly trapped in a massive black hole just floating aimlessly amongst the grand ocean of loneliness and darkness; waiting to be chewed up and spit out with little to greet you on the other side.

Every little detail about your life has been promptly calculated since the moment you were a fetus in your mother’s womb. There was no event spared for you to decide on your own free will as your parents steered you down an avenue of accomplishments worthy of your families last name. While time and time again you wanted to snatch the wheel from their hands and swerve in your own direction there was something that stopped you every single time the thought even emerged in your head. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was or where it derived from but you shucked it up to cowardice and continued to comply in being the exemplary daughter they had molded you to be.

Actually, that was bullshit, ‘comply’ was a loose term. You felt it your obligation to obey their demands one after another because it wasn't your duty as their one and only daughter to not burden them with insignificant nuisances.

Still you’d imagine some management over your own life would be nice once in a while. As much as you craved the idea however it was unattainable. A mere figment of your wildest dreams.

Walking through the rotating doors and before you could get a single word out the boy sitting behind the front desk greeted you with a beaming smile. He was nothing short of adorable and you could practically see the bright splendor of vibrancy radiating right off his ambiance. He shone so bright he served as the luminescence for the entire room, “Jiminie, you are glowing.”

There was a gleam sparkling in his eyes at your emphatic display of affection. Jimin was special to you—he was a genuine friend. One you’d make entirely on your own without the need of your parents’ influence of persuasion.

“What can I say. I’m a different man than I was two days ago.” He dusted off the implied dust of the yoke of his black button up as a way to exhibit a hint of pride. Although you knew the reasoning for his puffed chest and radiant grin you decided on teasing him anyway.

“Hm. . I can’t recall anything happening in the past couple of days.” You rubbed your chin pretending to be hurdling around a million thoughts.

Which technically you were daily.. but not because of this and never because of Jimin.

“Seriously?” He pouted, looking a bit deflated like a balloon running low on helium and you couldn't stand to see the sad puppy dog eyes substituting his usual sparkle.

“Of course not. I could never forget my second favorite day of the year right behind my own birthday.” You pulled out a small white box tied in a navy blue ribbon. His favorite color. “Happy birthday, Jiminie.”

His gasped was louder than you expected and the patrons who loitered around the lobby immediately turned their lurking eyes in your direction but neither of you cared. “You really shouldn’t have.”

“Nonsense. Besides, what are friends for?”

“These look so expensive,” he whispered as the opened gift box sat opened on his petite palms displaying the present you had worked on for months. A small pair of sterling silver hoops with the letters ‘JM’ engraved in the inner top corner of the earring. “You didn’t have to.”

“You deserve way more than this, Jimin-ah Plus the big two-one should be celebrated appropriately. Are you doing anything special this weekend?”

“I was planning on going out with someone this weekend but I don’t know if they’ll have the time anymore,” he shrugged. “Apparently, something super secretive came up.”

“Well if the loser ditches. You know I’m always down to party.” You extended your hands to pinch at his roseate cheeks. They truly resembled the softness and intricate tint of strawberry mochi, “I can’t believe you're getting so old already.”

“Ouch,” he smacked your hand away. “You sound exactly like my mother.”

“Correction! I am like your mother. I’ve practically raised you for the past 3 years.”

“You’re only 4 years older than me.”

“It might as well be a ten year difference.” The younger chuckled at your dramatic antics which resulted in you eventually joining along.

“Today after work I have uni orientation but how about we meet up-”

“Back it up,” You interrupted, holding onto his hand tightly. “‘Uni’ as in University?”

“That’s right,” he beamed, “majoring in dance.”

Jimin’s enthusiasm was evident in the way his voice glossed over your tympanum with its delicate velvet vibration. His pitch was just a bit higher than usual and you’d immediately notice how his cheeks curved into an adoring smile—the way he talked about dance. That was the exact way you felt towards painting. The only difference between the two of you was he had a vacant street and a straightforward road ahead to follow. While you stood at the start line with a business degree you had no desire of obtaining in the first place and dozens of obstacles in your way. Thrown in your path by your very own mother and father.

You were happy for him—but you resented his freedom.

“I’m so happy for you. I hope I’m automatically invited to all of the showcases to come.”

“Without a doubt.”

You painted your softest on your cheeks. “Please let me know if you ever need help with anything for school. Promise me, Jiminie?”

“Promise.”

“Keep me updated on your birthday plans,” you walked towards the elevators pressing the first button before it lit up white but the doors remained closed. “I forgot to ask. Is he in yet?”

“I think so. I punched in about an hour ago but I haven’t seen him leave or anything.” Jimin’s demeanor shifted at the mention of your best friend. There were remnants of nervousness in his motions as he fidgeted around with one of the many silver bands hugging his fingers. A habit you’d notice he’d adopt when in distress but you didn’t question it, “I guess I’ll surprise him.”

He spoke almost in a whisper, “you can invite him if you want.”

“Yoongi?”

He nodded.

“I’ll let him know.”

The younger boy nodded but words failed to follow. He remained as quiet as a mouse. The usual richness of his chocolate eyes was dulled down and he never bothered to meet your eyes once as the elevator doors opened.

“See you later, Jiminie.” You stepped into the mirrored walls of the four by four elevator waving him off as the doors began to shut slowly—he waved back.

“See you later.”

The ride up to the 50th floor was shorter than you remembered but you supposed you were distracted by the dozens of thoughts colliding in your head. The main one sitting at the forefront was Jimin’s hostile — tense even — reaction at the mention of Yoongi’s name. To you it was no secret that between the two of them another world war could ensue as they agreed on very little and argued about a lot more but this time it just felt different and you couldn’t figure out why.

The elevator dinged indicating you’d made it to your destination. The digital numeric pad appeared to the left side of the elevator and you quickly punched in the code before the steel doors opened, granting you access to your bestfriends loft.

“Yoongi?” You called out, walking deeper into his home, past the foyer and down the hallway leading you to the living room area. His apartment was in utter disarray. There were shoes, pillows, blankets, clothes and countless objects scattered all over the floor. While a multitude of takeout containers were spread all over the coffee table still containing food that had to be at least a couple of days old. A simple whiff sent your nostrils into a frenzy as the putrid stench overtook the atmosphere. As a result, you pinched your nose to avoid anymore of the horrid smell invading your senses.

Walking past the leather L-shaped couch you set your things on the kitchen island and immediately the mountain of dishes accumulating in the sink.

This was so unlike him.

If there was one perpetual detail you’d become familiar with in all your years knowing Yoongi, it was his cleanliness. And the lack of organization around you only sent a troubling worry to course through you only imagining the worst of events to have unfolded. Your shaky hands reached into your bag for your phone, immediately pulling up his number from your contact list.

No answer. You dialed again—nothing.

Suddenly, your ears became alarmed by a soulful voice.. humming. The melodic vibrato was coming from the direction of Yoongi’s bedroom and even in the distance set out between you and him you could tell the person knew how to carry a tune. That definitely was not Yoongi.

For a second you feared you might be interrupting one of his rendezvous but Jimin hadn’t alerted you of anyone being over.

“Yoongi. .” You called out again a bit louder but you were not met with a response, just the continued rhythmic hum bouncing off the walls—it was soothing and silky and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. In the back of your mind you know you should feel uneasy but the saccharine voice was hypnotic, recognizable to your ears even and you were enthralled by his sweet song like a snake to a pied piper.

The vexatious ring of the elevator rang behind you followed by the click clacking of shoes against the marble floor.

“Yoongi?” Realistically, you knew you were an idiot for yelling out into the void but in your defense. . Fine, there was nothing to defend. It was downright fatuous on your part. Entirely hypocritical after having made fun of protagonists in horror movies for doing the exact same thing.

“Yes. .” His tone was puzzling and although your impromptu visit was definitely unannounced it wasn’t entirely out of the blue. Your name tasted of lemons against his rose tinted lips, “what are you doing here?”

You rounded the corner into the main foyer and there he was. His skin mimicked the pale tints of ivory. He raked his fingers through his auburn locs displaying the sudden panic in his cafe noir tinted eyes stripping them of their usual shine.

“I texted you last week,” you waved your phone in your hand. “I told you I would be coming to visit after being away for the past few weeks.”

“Right. .” he nodded, “right.”

He forgot.

He never forgets, yet he forgot.

“I just—” there were beads of sweat glistening his temples. “I expected you a little later on in the day is all.”

And now he lied.

Yoongi would never lie to you.

You swallowed the lump sitting in your throat. It was hard to stand before someone you’ve known most of your life and feel so unfamiliar with the version of them you used to know. “Time has never been an issue before. If you prefer I can leave and come back later.”

“No,” He plopped all the bags he’d been carrying down on the floor. Cleaning supplies? Understandable considering your surroundings. “Please stay. I’ve just been dealing with something.”

“Does it involve Jiminie?”

“Jimin?”

You nodded.

“Why? Did he mention anything?”

“Is there anything to account for?” You crossed your arms at your chest. Your attempt at looking a bit more serious. Hoping he’d spill whatever the fuck happened with Jimin which they both seemed to be hiding from you.

“No. .” he stuttered. Not very convincing.

“Are you asking or telling me, Min Yoongi?” your tone was rugged and if you were a rose your thorns would be piercing right through his flesh.

“Telling. .” His words were still sitting on a balance between an inquiry and a statement and Yoongi himself seemed to not be entirely sure which he believed the most, “I’m telling you.”

“Can you listen to yourself Yoongi?” You roared. “Are you really believing the words coming out of your own mouth right now?”

“You’re asking way too many fucking questions,” he scratched the back of his head. “My head cannot tolerate it right now please.”

“Bullshit.”

“No—not bullshit. You are really causing me a throbbing migraine.”

“No.” You hissed, “you did that to yourself.”

“Did you come over just to fight?”

“Not exactly. . but it seems that’s the route you’ve driven us down. So nice to have you back in town.” You walked back to fetch your bag from the kitchen, “by the way your house smells like shit.”

“Well that’s totally my bad.” His voice was bass almost reaching the deepest depths of the undiscovered sea. The sound in the utterance of his words rumbled behind you like an unexpected spark of thunder causing a nimbostratus cloud to near as the azure sky you were used to turned to a dark gray hue. You felt a gaping hole developing in your stomach—slowly swallowing your entire being. So you stood waiting to be sucked in and vanish into thin air.

It couldn’t be.

“Are you just gonna stand there like a fucking statue?” he snickered.

“I’m hoping you would actually disappear.”

“Ah, just as. . peculiar as I remember.”

Yoongi’s eyes inflated to the size of golf balls as he entered the kitchen. He either didn’t know his idiot brother was in town OR he didn’t expect you to find out his idiot brother was in town.

Either way, paired with the secrecy in whatever the fuck was going with Jimin; this was yet another thing he kept from you.

“Were you ever going to tell me that he was back in town?” you were fuming with rage and any more unfounded words would have you reaching a venomous pique you hadn’t reached with Yoongi in a long long time.

“I was going to,” he took a deep breath. “Perhaps, initially I thought I wouldn’t have to.”

“Which one is it?” you tapped at the marble floor with the toe box of your red bottoms. Your back still turned towards the unwanted intruder standing behind you.

“Actually. .” he began, “this is why I was expecting you a bit later in the day.”

“Go on.”

“I needed to propose something to you,” Another thunder blared but this time it was nearer. So close you felt its vibration through your body. “To the both of you.”

“Well. .” Yoojin whispered in your ear, closing the distance between the two of you. His words were lento in their pace and so mellow. You despised the way his euphonious voice was fucking sweet like honey and most of all you hated the way the continued to effect you after so many years, “I already know but we still have to fill you in.”

You turned around to push him away but instead your eyes gravitated towards his towel that was disposed of on the floor near the frame of the kitchen door. His bare physique was completely exposed to your eyes. He was as captivating as you remember and though Yoojin wasn’t chiseled by any means, he was much more captivating than any Greek god who had been marbled into a statue. Not to mention, those pieces of so called art didn’t have a third fucking leg for a dick. He brushed his long black locs back exposing the rich tone of his skin's golden hue. “Yoojin, you wanna stop eye fucking her and put your towel back on?” Yoongi hissed.

You shook your head forcing yourself back to reality. Calling on sane thoughts and drifting your thoughts away from Yoojin and the reminder of his beautiful and massive cock.

“But I like having it all out,” he snickered. “Especially if there’s an audience.”

Yoongi walked past the two of you and grabbed the towel before throwing it in Yoojin’s direction. Your eyes remained on his slender fingers as he wrapped the rectangular fabric low on his waist.

You hated yourself for feeling as if you were still in the palm of his hands even after he did what he did and even after being away for such a long time.

You hate him. He means nothing to you.

“So about that proposition. .”

“Right.” You pointed towards Yoojin, “how come the evil twin already knows but I don’t?”

“He’s been here for the past three days.”

“Three days?” you muttered through clenched teeth.

“Now before you get mad at me again,” Yoongi cleared his throat and Yoojin pranced around the room semi-naked reaching for the handle of the refrigerator. The towel hung low on his body and you despised admitting you were enchanted by him once again there was a part of you hoping it would accidentally slip off. Besides, your last good memory of Yoojin featured him being nude anyway. “I wasn’t here when he invaded my house. I was away.”

“But aren’t you glad I found my way back home?” he raved. His hands flailed in the air signaling his brother to proceed. But that wasn’t cause for your perturbation, it was the cynical smile plastered on Yoojin’s face.

“Go on.”

You raised an eyebrow in your bestfriends direction as he took a seat on the stool beside you. Seemingly consumed by his own thoughts and although his mouth opened more than once there were no actual words being spoken. And while you understood he might need a minute to communicate whatever it was he needed to say. You were slowly dissolving into a puddle of apprehension. Although, you didn't know the precise reason for being here in this position, you couldn’t shake off the anxiousness coursing through your body. Despite what you felt you opted to accompany him in silence deducing perhaps all he needed was a moment of peace. Perhaps, all he needed was you to be there even if it was just like this.

“Yoongi?” You snaked your hand under his intertwining your fingers together, “what is the proposition.”

Though you weren’t looking at him you could feel his eyes burning a hole on you from across the room.

“It’s less of a proposition.. more of a favor.”

“I’m all ears.”

“You promise not to fight with me?” he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I promise.” You held your breath as you levitated above the cerulean sea. It was calm, for now.

Seven words were all it took to leave you sitting speechless with no thoughts baring consciousness to even compose a single sentence. The ocean beneath you no longer lapped its miniscule waves whispering their timid tune, the surf was ravenous and his fucking words had you decending deeper and deeper into the roaring waters.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi. What exactly do you need me to do?”

“A decoy.”

“A decoy?” you inquired.

“A decoy.” Yoojin confirmed, “you do know what that is right?.”

You ignored him. Directing your attention to your best friend, “And you want me to. .”

“I want you to date Yoojin who will be pretending to be me.”

“Why?”

“While you were gone. .” his clammy hands held onto yours a bit tighter, “my parents in agreement with yours provided me with an ultimatum and it was birthed from that ridiculous promise you and I made to them like four years ago.”

“The promise?” your eyebrows scrunched up together shooting him a puzzled look.

He nodded. “The dating to marry promise.”

“That fucking promise?” You scoffed. “We made that to get him off our backs before college. They were setting us up with people we didn’t even know.”

“I’m so fucking glad I left.” Yoojin whispered.

Although, you wanted to be upset at his irreverent comment—he was right. He was always adamant in wanting to opt out of this manufactured lifestyle and actually had the courage to simply walk away but unlike him you and Yoongi were the cowards who you stuck around. Enduring every fucking obstacle your parents chucked your way with a graceful smile still plastered on your faces to satisfy their perfect child syndrome. The two of you were fucking masochistic.

“We didn’t actually mean it though,” you stammered. . your mind was in a haze, struggling to find your way to the surface as you continued to sink deeper under the blue blankets of the sea, “. .but that is not what you want, Yoongi. It is not what I want.”

“When have they spared us our feelings? Our privacy? I met someone you know.” He sounded so fragile as if his heart would break at any moment. Perhaps it already has.

One thing was certain, your heart was already shattered into dozens of tiny irreparable pieces. You had nothing to lose just the condemning perpetuation of a love-less marriage to an affluent tycoon. There wouldn’t be happiness but it’d be something you could endure. Yoongi on the other hand.

He couldn’t.

“And I’m guessing this is where the proposition comes in?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Upon coming back from my vacation Yoojin decided to sporadically visit. He was already at my house. And during that same time our parents phoned me telling me about their plans for us. For our future.. but I’ve met someone who doesn’t know about the wicked ways of our family and I cannot let him go.”

“And I really have to fake date this idiot?”

“I think you mean this handsome idiot,” He stood behind you on the stool placing his chin up on your other shoulder. The proximity between the two of you became miniscule the closer he pressed his chest against your back. You wanted to push him off you but your body betrayed you and it selfishly craved the heat radiating from his semi naked figure like an itch finally being scratched.

“No, that’s not at all what I meant,” you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t worry it won’t be for long.” Yoongi reassured you, “I won’t take forever. I promise.”

“Forever’s a long time.” A nippy shiver ran down your spine when his minty breath crashed against the nape of your neck as he chanted his tempestuous locution. The pool of arousal between your thighs seeped on to your panties. All you could think about was his carnal utter vocalizing his filthy desires to you as he fucks you agaisnt the island or maybe the counters or against every single piece of furniture in this apartment.

“This will never be synonymous to forever,” you scoffed hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your legs were pressed just so tightly onto one another.

“Do you thrive on being annoying?” Yoongi interrupted your sinful thoughts.

“No. But I know you enjoy cockblocking.” Yoojin winked at you.

“There is no cock to block.”

His thunderous laugh rumbled through the walls of the apartment as he exited the kitchen.

Your eyes followed after him, “can I just get back to you later? I need to think about this.”

Yoongi hummed, “I’ll be a text or call away.”

Arriving back at your apartment was a breath of fresh air—though, it was quiet and lonely on most nights. Having a space away from your parents house and their controlling nature was peaceful. Not to say they didn’t just barge in here sometimes but you’d figure dealing with them sometimes was better than dealing with them all the time.

You kicked your shoes off by the door and placed your purse and keys on the entryway table stationed near the front door.

Yoojin was back. You were boggled by the realization as it hit you once again. No matter how many times you repeated it in your head it sounded false—like your mind was playing a trick on you.

Except it wasn’t.

He was back.

And now you have to date him. . This felt like a wicked curse bestowed upon you by your worst enemy and you couldn’t imagine coming out of the whole ordeal sane and in one piece.

But you have to.

Except, the terms of this whole charade replayed in your head as Yoongi uttered them off to you.

‘You will be a couple. You have to kiss, hold hands, be affectionate and actually look like you mean it. Our parents will be watching the two of you two carefully and while you are you, Yoojin will be me.’

You knew Yoongi wasn’t doing it out of wickedness.. he was completely oblivious to what had happened between the two of you but it still felt so cruel.

So fucking cruel.

You plopped on the bed following an exasperated sigh staring up at the eggshell ceiling. A flood of memories coursed through your head—all of them having one common denominator: Min Yoojin.

If you were going to get into specifics your story with the Min twins began the first day of sixth grade when they began middle school as the new kids in town. Yoongi was placed in your class and the two of you shared nearly every class together. You’d remember the first day the teacher introduced him to the class. All of your classmates were indifferent to the boy standing in the front of the class; they were all distracted by their own doings. Some on their phones while others simply ignored the situation entirely as only a few pairs of eyes lifted up to catch a glance at him but your attention remained on him from the moment he walked in.

“Yoongi.” you repeated to yourself.

The soft curves of his timid smile were dulcet—painted in the pastel undertones of comfort and familiarity. You didn’t know him, not yet. . but it sure felt as if you did. In no time that feeling became a reality, as you got to know him real well, real quickly when the both of you connected instantly.

What you didn’t bargain for however was Yoongi’s mischievous twin brother—older by a whopping 2 minutes he’d often argued.

Min Yoojin.

The moment you laid eyes on him your world shifted. Though, he shared the same face as your best friend. He was just . . so goddamn different. While Yoongi kept his hair in a bowl cut his fringe covering nearly half of his face Yoojin kept his short with a middle part framing his petite face, golden skin and dark brown eyes. He used to dress in black while Yoongi’s wardrobe was colorful and bright. They were complete opposites. Yoojin was also an introvert, reserved and kept to himself all of time. Adding to the mysterious aura everyone wanted to crack. Yourself included but unlike the other you kept your distance.

You weren’t really sure why you did. You just knew you didn’t want anything to come between your friendship with Yoongi.

For a long amount of years you kept at the promise you made to yourself but the more time you spent around him (and between sneaky glances and scarce verbal encounters which you often re-lived bashfully under the safety of your bed sheets) the deeper your crush developed.

Your first mistake was developing feelings and the second was that moment of weakness you had succumbed to which led everything to crash and burn to ashes.

Your continuous mistake however was the way your heart continued to palpitate increasingly at the mention of his name—it was obvious in the way your body reacted to him, desiring his touch and attention even now.

There was a slight knock at the door. You weren’t exactly expecting anyone but figured it was Yoongi being anxious as usual to remind you once again of the details of the agreement made between the two of you. . And the other Min.

“Who’s there?” you really needed to stop that.

There was no response.

Looking through the peephole you eye was met with a head full of black locs that hovered right above his shoulders. He stood with his hands in his pants front pockets, swaying his body back and forth as he waited for you to answer.

“What do you want?” You yelled, door still closed.

“Just—” he sighed and you saw as he leaned against the doorframe, “please open.”

“I am not going to open until you tell me why you’re here.” Some might say you were being childish and perhaps you were but Yoojin was the last person you expected to come knocking at your door at 1 in the morning.

Yoojin landed a harder knock, “just open up already.”

“Aggression will get you nowhere.”

“Aggression?” He scoffed, it was your persistent hobby to push his buttons. After everything he had put you through, this could be your coping mechanism.

This time he repeatedly pounced on the door.

“You’re going to wake up my fucking neighbors.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” you opened the door slightly, revealing an agitated Yoojin. Immediately, a cunning smile across your face. “Hi.”

“Save it.” He pushed past you, his shoes were placed by yours at the entrance and he walked further into your apartment as if he was familiar with the place.

“If you haven’t noticed,” You shouted after him, “You haven’t been here after disappearing so you cannot just walk into my fucking house like you own the place.”

You found him sprawled out on your couch, seeing him this comfortable in your house really pinched at your nerves for some odd reason, you just wanted to throw something at him just to induce a bit more of irritation his way.

“First of all,” you pushed his feet of the couch, taking a seat on the opposite couch, as far away as possible, “these are new so get your fucking feet off.”

“They are the same fucking couches you had in your room back at your parents house.”

“Well, did you come over to analyze my fucking furniture, or did your little impromptu trip have a actual point?”

“I came over because…” he scratched the back of his neck, why was he nervous? “I missed you.”

You burst out in laughter, but his expression remained stern, “I’m sorry,” you continued, “It’s just you literally had years after years to miss me. Yet. . Now?” you snickered.

“You’re so fucking immature,” he hissed.

“And you’re a fucking loser knocking at my door begging to get some pussy.”

“I never asked for pussy and for the record I wouldn’t have to beg.”

“But you do agree that you’re a fucking loser right?”

He shrugged, “if I say yes will it get me some pussy points?”

“Fuck you, Yoojin.”

You stood ignoring his question and existence, walking in the direction of the kitchen as he followed behind.

Why did you even answer the door? There was a versatility in the feelings you possessed for Min Yoojin that drove you to an intersection. The same one you stood at this precise moment, stuck between two roads. One side was composed of all of the core memories you held onto like a photobook in the back of your mind. This avenue was the reason why your heart beat at the mention of his name. The other other option was a road of sorrow, heartbreak and melancholiness. And every single memory with Yoojin there, you wanted burned to ashes.. It was the reason why you wanted to rid yourself of such a nuisance promise once and for all.

He called you by your name, something you hadn’t heard since that day. It sounded so foreign to your ears but your body felt the complete opposite, there was a bolt of electricity coursing through you causing the hair follicles on your arms to stand straight.

Years later, still the same effect.

You were pathetic.

“Tell me you don’t miss me.” He whispered.

“Wow, that was really fucking cringy.”

Yoojin chuckled as he shook his head, “glad to see not much has changed.”

“I could say the same.”

He stood on the other side of the kitchen island while you leaned on the counter near the sink. It was summertime, the heat was off and your air conditioner was set on high, yet you could feel the beads of sweat forming at the palms of your hands.

“Was your prime objective to make a fucking fool out of yourself,” you crossed your arms at your chest, “did you achieve your goal for the day?”

“Actually, no,” Yoojin rounded the island and walked towards you, closing the distance you had been so desperate to maintain between the two of you, “I just wanted to make sure we were good after our meeting back at Yoongi’s place.”

“I told Yoongi I needed some time.”

“Is it because of me?”

It is. “No.”

“Then why wouldn’t you just agree?”

“Because unlike you I can’t just hide behind this fake relationship. I’m me.” Your tone is a bit more hurtful than you intended, “and I have to continuously lie to my parents for the long foreseeable future.”

He nodded, seemingly understanding where your frustrations stemmed from. Even though that wasn’t your frustration at all. Your parents controlled your life for as long as you could remember and dating fake ‘Yoongi’ who’s actually Yoojin was going to be the best form of secret rebellion you could come up with.

Your parents aren't fond of Yoojin. As his own parents aren’t fond of him. And that slight detail made things so much better.

“You’re right. I guess I never considered the route your life and Yoongi’s life took,” he stepped closer, “the fact that Yoongi even has to go through such lengths is. .” he sighed.

“It’s fucked,” you finished for him, “but that’s how life has been here, at home, for him and I.”

“Tell me. .” his eyes were just as star-filled as you remembered, so alluring, dark, “who were they planning to marry you off to?”

“Choi Soobin.”

“Ah,” the proximity between the two of you was slim and any sudden moves would have the two of you pressed against each other. An exciting thought, though you would never admit it out loud, not with Yoojin around. “He’s richer than the Min’s will ever be. How did you manage to slip away from that?”

“I almost didn’t,” you began, “Soobin is sweet, the sweetest person I’ve ever met actually. We went on so many dates and although we clicked instantly, it was more platonic than romantic. There was love but not like our parents were hoping for so we made plans to walk away from the whole thing.”

“And both parents agreed?”

You shook your head, “Of course not, but in trying to get out of that, Yoongi and I ended up in this. . Well you and I now.”

Once again a deep silence fell in the room.”

“Was that all you wanted to know about?” He nodded, “this could’ve been a text, Yoojin.”

“You never gave me your new number.”

“I know you well enough to assume you probably swiped it off Yoongi’s phone when he wasn’t looking.”

“Did.” He smiled brightly, his golden cheeks rose up like a loaf of bread right out of the oven.

That damned smile. It was so delicate, so bright, mesmerizing, so hard to forget. You knew because that same smile played in your dreams night after night. It was your artistic inspiration and the reason why you always secretly hoped to see Yoojin once more.

However, now that he was here, it was more complicated. You found yourself in a staggering debate ever since you laid eyes on him again. Your mind told you to send him off already, that you’ve entertained him long enough. While, the ocean between your thighs, begged for you to take him back to your room.

You must’ve been enthralled in your own thoughts because you hadn’t noticed when Yoojin closed that tiny gap between you, placing his hands on your waist.

“Yoojin,” you murmured.

“My name has always sounded so much better on your lips,” his hand abandoned the indent of your body and came up to your face, tracing your silk lips.

“Yoojin, please,” your voice was so weak, your eyes were shut so tight you could actually see stars.

“Yoojin please stop or Yoojin please don’t stop.” His hand retracted itself from your lips as he waited for you to answer.

“Yoojin please touch me already before I end up going crazy,” you blurred out.

“See, I knew you it,” his hands wasted no time finding themselves at the hem of your panties. If his intent was to tease, he was definitely working you up real nice and slow because even after what felt like five minutes of having him head south, you still waited for some sort of stimulation.

“When I said touch me, I meant now.”

“Patience.” He said in a hushed tone.

“I’m not a patient person and you know that.”

Yoojin smirked, finally dipping his hand into your underwear. His fingertips found themselves tracing shapes against your clit slowly as his lips landed on the nape of your neck. His mellifluous kisses felt sultry against your skin.

Still, he maintained a timid pace.

“More,” you breathed into his ear, you began moving your hips faster against his fingers.

“You really know what you want huh?”

You nodded, not a single stutter in the way you continued swaying at your own pace. Forward and backwards you moved—chasing your own high.

“Hm, you look so hot like this you know,” he hummed, “just as I remembered but. .” he removed his fingers from your body just as you were nearing your peak, “I want to make you cum on my own accord.”

Your labored breathing hindered a response to escape your lips but you were determined to have things your way.

You felt as two fingers sat at your entrance, pressing against you teasingly, the squelching sound chimed as a result of how drenched you were. He massaged your slickness lento, the recurrent circular motion he added to the bubbling anticipation rushing through you, as his digits began sinking further into your cunt.

“You’re so warm, doll.” He groaned.

Being a whimpering filled mess at the mercy of Yoojin’s fingers was not how you expected your night to roll out when you opened the door earlier that night. But an hour into his visit, here you were bearing his attack against your walls as his digits moved in and out of you slowly.

“Yoojin,” you whimpered, holding on to the edge of the kitchen counter—feeling the knot at the pit of your stomach tighten already .

“That’s it, doll,” His earthy tone was raw and tickled your inner ear, sending a frigid chill down your spine. “Cum for me.”

His pace hastened grazing the spot that drove you over the edge.

You could feel it.

Fuck.

You woke up in cold sweat, heavy breathing. Looking beside you on the bed, you expected a naked Yoojin to be lying next to you, instead you were alone.

It was a dream.

You sighed, slightly relieved that you had not fallen into his abysmal trap so easily.

It was only just a dream.

Thursday came around quicker than expected and being incognito for the last couple of days really served as a form of needed therapy. Providing you all the time needed to think things through—to make a decision on Yoongi’s proposition.

Though, your heart threw spears at Yoojin’s name, you knew Yoongi wouldn’t be asking for a favor if this magnitude unless he was desperate—plus you figured if you were in the same situation, and you found your better half, Yoongi would be one hundred percent willing to do the same for you.

‘How do you know he is the one?’

You asked Yoongi.

‘..Because I cannot picture my life without him.’

So your decision, although hard, came to you rather quickly.

‘I’ll do it. . . For you.’

‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.’

‘Will I meet him soon?’

‘Soon.’

You haven’t spoken with him for two days since that conversation took place over the phone with the passing of midnight clouds bearing as the only witness to the assertion of the deal concealed between the both of you.. and Yoojin.

Since then, you were in solitude for a couple more days to prepare yourself for life after the decision you’ve made—to link arms and walk side by side with the treacherous Min until Yoongi was ready to get things (not so) straight with his parents.

Tonight, however, your last spec of sanity disintegrated as your weekend isolation was cut short by your favorite front desk boy as he invited you to celebrate his birthday at club Fuego. Initially, Jimin had decided the two of you were desperate for a much needed night out without the presence of anyone else and you agreed but to your demise and slight surprise, Jimin knew of Yoongi and Yoojin. He knew about Yoojin being here on a secret mission with you and somehow at the expense of that the twins ended up on the invite list to the birthday celebrations as well.

You didn’t mind but a part of you wanted just one more day away from it all, from Yoojin mainly.

The journey in finding the perfect outfit was more exhausting than you would have liked to admit but an essential to having a good night out included looking your best. First, you tried on a knitted royal blue long sleeve dress, though the color was perfect the more you looked in the mirror the more you hated the way it looked for an odd reason; not really flattering at all. Next, came an all black ensemble consisting of a black crop top and black faux leather plants but it looked bland and not ‘night club worthy’ at all. You discarded that outfit in the ever growing mountain of clothes taking residence on top of your bed. Exhaustion washed over you as a result of your continuous outfit changes, and even then you still had no fucking clue on what to wear.

You needed to be out of the house in approximately, you looked at the digital clock on your nightstand, 30 minutes.

You needed something to make you feel confident; sexy; and unstoppable, something that would have Yoo—the city eating out the palm of your hands.

Suddenly the perfect outfit came to mind.

[9:30pm - You] Is this like a hip hop night club or an actual get dressed night club?

[9:31pm - JM] Please tell me you’re already dressed.

[9:32pm - You] I’m basically almost done.

You stared at your lace black undergarments in the mirror.

[9:32pm - You] How far are you though?

[9:33pm - JM] Not far at all. Hurry up!

He attached a picture of the entrance to your building.

Oh shit, you hurried to finished getting dressed.

“You look great ma’am. Have a great night,” The door man nodded in your direction holding the glass door open for you—you shot him a soft smile thanking him and wishing him a good night.

Yoongi’s car sat by the curb as your best friends and an unwanted demon waited for your arrival. Jimin rolled the passenger window down, “I was going to talk shit for making us wait here for like 20 minutes but you look way too fucking good bitch.”

“Thank you, thank you. Your compliments only feed my ego. I hope you’re aware,” You began posing on the sidewalk as Jimin began flashing pictures if you.

“That’s my best friend. She’s a real bad bitch,” he screamed out, calling on the attention of everyone around you. There was a tinge of bashfulness taking over you as the eyes of those settling on the sidewalk were set on you.

“Can you get in the fucking car already?” Yoongi said from behind the wheel.

“Fine.”

Not fine. Of course, you were stalling but only because you knew who would occupy the seat beside you for the 15 minute car ride ahead. And 15 minutes next to Yoojin would be like an eternity in hell. . But you could only stand outside your best friend's vehicle for so long without raising eyebrows or questions being formed about your hesitation to sit next to him.

While Yoongi knew of your mostly hate relationship with his brother. He didn’t know what caused it and you intended to keep that a secret for as long as you could. Before you could reach for the handle, the door was being opened for you from the inside and suddenly there you were, face to face with the man you’ve convinced yourself to be your least favorite Min. His eyes ogled you as you got in the car as strategically as you could without flashing anyone, of course, you settled for the black off the shoulder long sleeve corset dress with crystal trim or the shortest dress in your closet. His intense gaze remained on your figure as you took a seat beside him after slamming the door shut, but his eyes were so fucking hard to read, so dark they mimicked the expansive late night sky. Those were the eyes you thought you knew once upon a time but now they were estranged and knowing Yoojin presently; you figured he was probably mocking you and likely thinking of about a dozen snarky comments he’d make to make you feel like a fool and ruin your night but you wouldn’t let him win this time, or ever.

You had to be nice to him while your parents were around any other time was free territory.

The car ride remained silent aside from the low music being emitted from the radio, of course, they played the same generic crap that looped on continuously all day long so not even that could stop your thoughts from drifting to the man who sat just a couple feet away from you.

You wanted to say so much but instead you bottled it all up and stored it all away under lock and key in the deepest depths of your heart. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he occupied your thoughts on a daily basis.

Jimin cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable by the silence that has taken reign in the last 5 minutes of all of you being in the car together, “have any of you been to this club before?”

Yoongi shook his head, “I’ve been in New York for the last few years.”

New York. . Nice.

The three of them looked at you but you were stuck in your own thoughts as you swirled around the whirlwind gusts of the tornado wrecking havoc in your mind.

“What?”

“Have you gone to Fuego before?”

“No,” you answered. “This is my first time.”

Once again silence fell amongst the four and there was a wave of awkwardness washing over you as you remained hyper focused on looking out the window—enjoying the vibrancy of the city under the grace of the stars.

“Yoojin,” Jimin spoke once again, silence was not in his nature as he flourished in his true social flower nature, “How was New York?”

“Loud.” He was notorious for his one word fucking answer—another thing you despised about him.

“So I guess the city truly never sleeps.”.

“Unfortunately, but I have good memories as well so it wasn’t all negative.”

“Was there a lucky lady?”

“Ah—” you could feel his stare on you. Perhaps, he was trying to figure out what your body language displayed, but you ignored him and slaughtered those butterflies flapping their wings at the lining of your stomach. Your gaze was set intensely on whoever or whatever you could spot through the car window. You knew Yoojin was simply trying to structure the right words to cause a reaction out of you.

“There were a couple.”

A couple? You felt a jab land at your stomach vacuuming the air right out of your lungs in the process. You were hurt, and you were beaten but most of all you hated how much you felt for someone who wasn’t even yours. Someone who doesn’t deserve you.

The gates of Fuego were seemingly the pearly white gates to your safe haven; the only offset was the man still sitting right beside you. But it was within your full intentions to stay as far away from Yoojin as you could and by far, you meant far. . far. . far away.

Yoongi turned off the engine as he pulled into the parking spot—you were ready to jump out of the vehicle, ready to lose yourself in your last night of “singleness.”

The soft utterance of his vibrato voice rang through the tight space of the car, “We’ll catch up in a minute.” Yoojin was demanding, authoritative, and quite invasive. As much as you wanted to rebel against him your body was non compliant and you became enchanted by the spell he cast upon you.

Yoongi looked in your direction and you nodded, signaling that it was OK, “we’ll go ahead and make the entrance line. Don’t take too long.” He opened the door, “And no fighting or I’ll just call the cops on you two.”

You were both now alone in the car.

The air became stuffy, restricting your airway and you weren’t quite sure if it was due to all of the car doors and windows being shut tight or if it was due to the fact that you were alone with Yoojin for the first time in years.

“I know my arrival was unexpected. Especially, to you,” he spoke, scratching the back of his neck, “but I was hoping we could talk”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” you hissed.

“There’s plenty to discuss,”

“There was plenty to discuss before you left Yoojin,” you shrugged, “but that expired long ago.”

He shook his head, “I wasn’t aware things like this had an expiration date.”

“Everything has an expiration date.”

“If only I would’ve been made aware.”

You had not gotten the chance to see how truly captivating Yoojin looked tonight. The buiguilding charm he exuded was venomous and simply looking in his direction had you under his fangs.

“I don’t think knowing would have mattered much to you,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “being in New York with all those girls and all.”

“Are you jealous?” he snickered.

It was so fucking hot, your body felt overheated. You were sweating from every single inch of you body. w

“Don’t flatter yourself,” there was a scornful derivative in your intonation, “you were the last thing I thought about.”

“Face it, you missed me.”

Those words took you back to the wretched dream you had the other night, remembering the way he spoke softly into your ear, the way his lips serenaded your neck, the way his fingertips felt as soft as the fluffiest of clouds against your skin.

“I-I did not,” you stuttered.

“Admit it.”

“No, you know what I have to admit though,” you began deflecting, just mention something you hate about him, “I hate this fucking act you adopt. You’re a fucking asshole, stomping over me without much thought when others are around, but as soon as we’re alone you pretend to care.”

You recalled how he used to be, the Yoojin from before the storm. The Yoojin who understood you, showered you with care and love, the Yoojin who was communicative and expressive. The Yoojin your heart longed for in the loneliest of nights for the past five years.

“Listen,” his eyes were finally expressive, they were kinder, the dark tone in his pupils was comforting. There was solace behind them, they felt like a warm blanket but was the opposite of what you needed as the temperature continued to rise in the enclosed car, “I’m here now. I’m back.”

You wanted to believe him, but you knew it was bullshit.

“I don’t care Min. Tonight we’re celebrating Jimin. Tomorrow we begin our little charade which I hope you know I only agreed to for Yoongi.”

“For Yoongi?”

“For Yoongi.” You confirmed.

“So you don’t miss. . .” His words drifted off leaving his implications for you to interpret and you knew exactly what he meant.

You did, but there was no admitting it to Yoojin—a deep silence fell through and the only noise your ears picked up came from the quickened thumping of your heart clashing on the walls of your chest, it terrified you that he could possibly hear.

“There was nothing to miss.”

He huffed, “Alright.”

“I’m glad we got this conversation out of the way. See you inside,” you excited the car, slamming the door behind you.

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author’s note: it took me longer than expected to write this (I deleted 3 different drafts 🙂) so hopefully this first chapter isn’t too bad, also this is unedited so hopefully everything makes sense.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think <3