#stream drivers license ig

[letterstojori]

8.18.2

Dear Jori,

There’s this guy on IG named Johnny Huynh that sings covers and they’re all so dramatic and sad songs and I see them and I just think who hurt you cause they’re all so sad. Or I wonder if it’s all part of the online persona for views. Could be either but I like would like to think those are true raw emotions.

He was singing drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo and that was one of the songs the other Jets picked at Karaoke in Shibuya. I didn’t know the song at the time but it sounded familiar.

NGL I knew one Olivia Rodrigo song and then there was the one that you had me play when we were in your car, Deja Vu. You played it once on stream after we stopped talking. Said something about how good the song was.

-bearbear

[sprnklersplashes]

driver’s license

post-canon, angst ahoy

She gets her driver’s licence on Saturday.

On Sunday morning, she takes her first drive alone, and it’s to the last place she should go.

The roads are empty, the rest of Sherwood sensibly asleep in their beds. Last night was another sleepless one, bolting up in her bed with her hands clamped over her mouth and her whole body trembling violently, not stopping until she had paced the length and breadth of her bedroom about fifty times. She was wide awake by that point, too shaken by her nightmares to even try to go back to sleep. She sat against the window, head against the wall, watching her breath fogging up the glass, obscuring the perfect picture on the other side.

He was there, of course. He’s always here in the morning, especially when she wakes up like this. She didn’t turn around, didn’t see him, but felt the weight of his gaze on her anyway. Pleading, lonely, begging her to turn around and come back to him. To slip into his arms and get lost in his words again, to let him strip her away with his touch. And the worst part is that she wanted to. She wanted to do it; there’s some magnetic force that still sits in her and it keeps pulling her towards JD even though she knows he’s gone. It becomes a game two of them play and she loses every single time; if she resists, it hurts, and if she gives in… she doesn’t know, she never has, but it can’t end up good.

Her keys were in her hand before she even knew what she was doing, and she was pulling out of the driveway as the sun rises.

She’s not dressed for a drive; a pair of black pyjama bottoms and an old, old blue sweater. It’s one of the things from before she was a Heather and most importantly-something JD had never seen her in. That’s one of the worst things about this, about him. His fingerprints aren’t just over her body, but all over her clothes too. Invisible to everyone except her. Lines run up and down her blazers where he caressed her, the outline of his hand on her skirt where he ripped it off her body. When she first saw him, she thought ‘now there’s a person I’m never going to forget’. Now she’d give anything for that to be wrong.

She doesn’t think she knows where she’s going, not until she turns right at one junction and feels her blood run cold. It’s funny, she thinks. She hasn’t been here in months and yet it still looks exactly the same. She avoided this place like the plague afterwards. She still could. There’s no-one here and no-one checks the traffic cameras here, not in a street like this. She could turn around and head in the other direction, and she should. But the wheels keep turning, slow but still forwards, and her hands stay locked where they are. The steering wheel barely budges.

She must have been on this street before him. She’s lived in this town her whole life and could draw out a map from memory. It’s not that big after all. She has vague recollections of a birthday party happening somewhere around here, and another of a family barbeque on this street. She trick or treated a few times here as well, first with her parents and then with Martha. But all those are irrelevant now. From here on out this will be known as JD’s street and JD’s street only.

She pulls the car into a sloppy park, thankful for the cautious residents keeping their cars in garages, and leans back in her seat. She doesn’t need to turn that much to see the house beside her.

There’s a new family that lives there now. A mom and dad and two elementary school kids. Both girls. One with dark curly hair in pigtails and the other with a black ponytail, secured with a ribbon. She had watched them the first day they moved in, laughing together, the dad tugging on the girls’ pigtails, the mom organising the move in. What must it be like inside now, with boxes unpacked and furniture sitting proudly. A home, not just a house. A place big enough for all of them. It must have been excited, to have so many of its rooms used.

That’s what struck Veronica when she first went over with him. How big it was, for a family of two. She shakes her head. You could hardly call JD and his father a “family”. Not because of their size, but because of them. They were barely even acquaintances. They merely lived under the same roof and shared the same blood; that was the beginning and end of their relationship. Veronica had wondered why Big Bud Dean had chosen this house, how much it must have cost him, and it was only a week or so ago she had realised; he didn’t care. Why would he, when he’d just leave in the next three months anyway? He picked the first available place, and it just so happened to be a family home.

She had watched him leaving. She swears to herself she isn’t a stalker, but she’s finding that harder and harder to believe. What would you call someone who goes through hoops to find out the day and hour a man is moving out of his house and then skips school just to stand on the street and watch him? What must he think of her, that is, if he even noticed her at all. Too busy wrapped up in himself to notice other people, that’s what JD always said about his father. There’s not a lot she agrees with JD on, but she has to give him that.

She pulls her sweater tighter around herself and blinks, her eyes suddenly stinging and blurry. The last time she went over there, really went over there, rather than hovering on the other side of the street, was the day it happened. She had walked up to that door with ash in her hair and blood on her face, and knocked three times before he had answered. He regarded her with this cool, confused glance, as though he was trying to remember when he had seen her before, and she had bitten her tongue and watched as realisation dawned on his face.

“You’re Jason’s girl, aren’t you?” he had asked. That was the first time she had heard him say his son’s name, she realised. Their little game must end whenever JD wasn’t around. He took a long drink of his beer then and shrugged at her. “Whaddya want?”

Her nails had dug into her palms, leaving burning red marks, and she just about manged to say “your son’s dead” through her tight throat, tears plink-plonking down her face.

He blinked at her, a moment passed, and then another, before he let out an unimpressed-sounding “really?”.

She does wonder what would have happened if Heather Duke hadn’t stumbled upon her at that moment and dragged her away from him, kicking and screaming and swearing all the way down. She pulls her sweater tighter around her. Her throat hurts at the memory. The entire street had come out to see the commotion and what little good standing she still had blew away like dust. Good, straight-A, Harvard bound Veronica had screamed “go fuck yourself” at a seemingly innocent man who just lost his son.

She doesn’t regret it though.

The first hues of blue appear around the edges of the sky now, but according to her clock it’s still far too early for her parents to be up. Her body goes limp in the seat, her head falling to the side, and her eyes flicker up to the window on the second-floor window. On the day they moved in, she saw the light go on in that bedroom and the pink paint going up on the walls. One of the young girls is using it as her room now, and she almost laughs. She plays with her dolls, no idea what two stupid kids did in there, oblivious to how he had pinned her against that wall and she had stripped him down, shivering as he whispered “you’re mine” in her ear.

Or about the soft, stolen kisses they shared on his bed at night, the two of them lying on his bed, their eyes on the ceiling, and talking about the future. Their future, he had said. Where she would go to college and where he would go. Where they should move to, because Veronica was adamant she wasn’t staying in Sherwood forever. And when they’d get their driver’s licences.

“I want mine as soon as I can,” she had told him. “I’ve been dreaming about it since forever. I’ve practiced in my dad’s car.”

“I was wondering how that dent got there,” he had said. She elbowed him in the ribs for that comment. “Suppose I don’t need to. I have my bike.”

“You have a licence for that thing, right?” She turned to him then, studying his profile and feeling a lingering sense of doubt in the back of her mind. That feeling always accompanied them wherever they went, like the hangover to the ecstasy his touch brought. “JD?”

“Course I do, Ronnie,” he had told her, and he pulled her against his chest. “You think I’d take my favourite girl on a bike if I didn’t have a licence for it?”

His favourite girl. He didn’t call her that a lot, maybe once or twice in their entire short-lived relationship, but damn did she love it. He was like that. Good at making her feel special. Like she was made of something precious. Diamonds in her eyes, gold in her veins. To him, she was better than every other girl around and she’s so, so ashamed of the fact that she liked that.

But how much did he really value her in the end?    

She slams her hand on the dashboard, hard, and cries out as the dull pain pulses beneath her skin. Tears run down her face, replacing those from earlier this morning. Those haven’t yet dried. She tucks her knees up against her chest, burying her face in them so that the sound of her cries is muffled. She doesn’t know why; not like anyone is awake at this point to be disturbed by a stupid girl like her crying in her car.

He swore he loved her. Over and over again and you’d think that the words would wear themselves out but they never did. They just kept getting bigger and he kept burning hotter and brighter until he scorched her hands when she tried to touch him. He had whispered it reverently into her hair as she slept and murmured it against her lips and even in that house, with the barrel of a gun pointed directly at her, he said it. That was the moment she realised it wasn’t true. Somewhere amongst the pain and the confusion and the splitting headache she looked at him, and she looked at the gun, and asked herself, how could his lips say he loves her while his hand is ready to kill her? Not that he needed a gun to kill her. Maybe he knew that, and so the gun was just to play with her.

He had promised her. That’s the part that hurts more than anything else. The promise he broke, and how he used those jagged edges to cut her open. He promised her he was going to change, swore to her on the love he claimed was God. JD was nothing if not passionate, and for all she knew he meant that at the time. Or maybe he didn’t, and it was all just a game to him. It’s been so long now and it’s still so hard to tell.

She sobs again, a heavy pain tugging on her torn-apart heart. She’s an idiot, and a fool, and a fucking moron and every other damn thing Heather Chandler has called her these past months. Not that she had much of a backbone before but now she can’t even bring herself to be annoyed at her. Because it’s true. Because what kind of person lives through all that, lives through JD and all manipulation and all his lies, and watches as he points a gun at her with nothing but coldness in his eyes, and is still in love with him after that? How does she spring awake from nightmares in the morning and spend the afternoon missing the feeling of his lips against hers? If she loves JD, despite everything he was, then what kind of person does that make her? What gives her the right to lie awake at night and mourn the future she would never have, when three people are cold in their graves because of him?

Her hand finds its way to the glove compartment and suddenly the little plastic card is in her hand, her eyes staring up at her. No-one has commented on it but surely everyone sees it; the look in her eyes that’s hung around ever since that day. She flinches sometimes, when she sees herself in the mirror. What’s become of her; thin, hollow cheeks and shadows beneath her dull, dead eyes, clothes hanging off her shoulders. JD didn’t just end his life when he took that bomb. She might still be breathing, but most days it feels like that’s all she’s doing.

She slams her hand on the dashboard again, and then it happens again, and again and again until she’s banging against it in a fierce, fast rhythm, her mouth open and a burning, broken scream pouring out of it. It tears out of her throt and fills the car, shaking the glass in the windows and ringing in her ears. This isn’t how it was supposed to have happened. She was supposed to run out of the DMV and into his waiting arms, have her feet swept off the ground as he tells her how proud he is of her. She was supposed to drive through the streets with him in the passenger’s seat, sneaking sideways glances at him as the wind tousled his hair. They were supposed to drive up to the hill together and sit over the town, her head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her, making more stupid plans for the future. She was meant to tease him about getting her licence first and he was meant to roll his eyes and kiss her to shut up her up. He should have been something else, and she should be waking up with butterflies in her stomach rather than lead in her lungs.

She sits back and shakes her head at herself. Her hand is red and pulsing with pain from where she smacked it. She’s ridiculous. Since when does she have the right to decide what was ‘meant’ to happen? JD thought that. He declared it on the other side of her closet door- “I was meant to be yours, we were meant to be one”. As far as he was concerned, the universe is, was, theirs, and they were the masters over what happened in it. And she’s not that person, she’s dragging herself away from being that person every day, even if it means her nails are caked with blood and dirt. She doesn’t get to choose what happens, not or herself or anyone, and she doesn’t get to sit here and claim what that he should have been something different.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.  

Her mom told her she’d love someone again, a few weeks after the pep rally when she was in a particularly bad state of mind. She had sat on the edge of her bed and run her fingers through her hair and told her that he might have been the first, but he wouldn’t be the last. Her heart won’t be broken forever. She had nodded and murmured something in agreement, and waited until her mom smiled and patted her head before she left. What her mom doesn’t know is that JD didn’t break her heart-he put a bomb in it and blew it up. And whatever she felt for him, there’ll be no feeling it for anyone ever again.

She looks back over at the house. There’s a light on in the kitchen and she slides lower in the seat, despite being safe from view already. Who could it be? The dad maybe, or the mom, getting ready for the day ahead, or maybe one of the kids catching the morning cartoons or treating themselves to cookies for breakfast. It doesn’t really matter, what matters is they’re in that house now and neither Jason nor Big Bud Dean are. For better or worse, there’s no trace of him left in Sherwood, Ohio, not except her memories and one page in the yearbook. One day she’ll make peace with that fact.

She turns the key in the ignition and the car rumbles into life again, annoyed after being neglected for so long. She lets out a long, steady breath, the last of her tears running down her face like rain down her windshield. She turns the wheel, peels away from the kerb, and hopes she’ll never come back to this street for as long as she lives. She doesn’t know if her heart can take it again.

#heathers the musical #heathers fanfic #veronica sawyer #jason dean #jdronica #idk what the fuck this is but it's a thing i wrote #stream drivers license ig

[yuzukult]

detours (m) || pjm & reader

title: detours, aka the extended version of drivers license pairing: park jimin x reader genre: idiots to lovers, brother’s best friend!au, college!au, angst, romance, smut word count: 13.8k prompt: in drivers license, you think park jimin is out of reach. in detours, jimin feels like he can’t reach you. warnings: um jm masturbates ig, oc got insecurities, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, 18+ stuff basically a/n: it only took about 3 months. hope i don’t disappoint you guys ♡ also i bolded angst bc it may be kinda sorta sad idk (also i don’t proofread my smut scenes so don’t come @ me)

Park Jimin was your first heartbreak. 

The yellowish tinge street light that shines on his car alone, parked on the side of the road by his home gives the perfect view of him. He still looks handsome under the mustard-like illumination; ugly saturated colors didn’t alter his beauty, leaving him remaining flawless as ever. But the lovely boy isn’t what your eyes are drawn to, no, it’s the Aphrodite that occupies the passenger seat that captures your attention.

Her smile gleams brighter than a sunny day, sparkling like the stars in the darkness of the night with honey blonde hair that cascades over her delicate and dainty shoulders. Her eyes glimmer with adoration for the boy in front of her, heart probably inflating as much as yours do. She’s easily resplendent that the mere sight of her has you stunned with a breath stuck in your throat.

If she was who you were up against for Jimin’s heart, you’ve already lost.

It’s a harsh reality trying to accept that Jimin wasn’t actually yours to begin with. Those dedicated years of manifesting the small actions he’d make had come off as more only dissipates into the air, along with the dreams that one day he’d reciprocate feelings for you.

The start of your engine roars, exhaust stuttering that your chest tightens at the prospect of it failing. You wanted to run, push the gear shift in drive and escape away from it all, including leaving behind the love you had for a guy who had your heart in the palm of his hands and didn’t know it. When the beat up Camry assents, you stomp your foot on the gas, immediately fleeting out of his block with a grip on the wheel, and your free hand wiping the tears that stream down your face.

Jimin was the first person that came to view the second you got your license. It’s a rectangular piece of plastic, full of unattractive colors and a hideous picture, yet it was the rite of passage into your true teenage years. The little card in your hand was ostensibly your way in, hopefully getting him to espy that you weren’t Johnny’s little sister anymore. It’s supposed to be your new beginning, your chance to convince him that you were mature now.

Or maybe you read all the signals wrong. That previous ride he’d given you the day after band practice was blissful, a pure ten minutes that felt like thirty, only confirming your reputed feelings for him. For a brief moment, it wasn’t a favor that he was doing for your brother. Perhaps Jimin doesn’t mean those unspoken comportments that night, maybe he said those things to show how proud he was that his best friend’s little sister, who had become a sibling of his own, developed into a woman.

However, not his woman. 

No, not even close. You were plainly a girl, nothing more. His best friend’s younger sister. The one with the pigtails and peony pink dress with a bow as big as your head tied around your waist. The one who can’t reach the top cabinets above your kitchen sink and needed a helping hand. The one who couldn’t tie her sneakers, so he had to pause in his routes to loop those little bunny ears, making sure you don’t trip. You weren’t ever going to be a woman in his eyes, and that’s the saddest part you’ve come to accept. 

That night, you wept silently in your bedroom. Within the darkness, the lamp posts outside peers through your sheer white curtains, radiating into your room. It’s a reminder of that spotlight upon his car, the one that showcases his enchanting features without ado, as if he’s an angel sent from heaven. You’d envisage being the passenger of his car, windows down and the sun beginning to set in the horizon, beaconing his smile with shades of yellows, oranges, and reds. Then, you’d pull up at a private spot, even if it’s just for a split second of having him to yourself, you’d talk endlessly like that one car ride home.

Drives at night would never be that, you learn brutally. This nonexistent relationship with Jimin is too real, and the fantasy will dwell as a only a fantasy.

He’d stay in your dreams for years consistently after that. You’d see him in passing, exchanging aphoristic greetings that has him speechless, confounded as to why there wasn’t more said. Space is good, you read somewhere in the comment section on an online forum where you post for advice. Space is needed for growth, for change, and an opening for you to become a better version of yourself. He’s unsure what he’s done, and he’s curious as to why you never told him about your accomplishment, how you obtained your driver's license without a word because he still has a keychain attached to his car fob that’s made specially for you.

But he was nervous. Hands perspiring more than they’d normally do, leg shaking unconsciously of the abundance of scenarios if he ever did confront you, and the periodic clenching of his jaw were uncontrollable. Jimin doesn’t know how this semi-friendship went reverse and back into acquaintances. All he knows is that he doesn’t want this. Jimin wants whatever the two of you had before—even if it meant that there wasn’t anything deeper than being your brother’s best friend. 

Jimin hasn’t seen you in a while. And the first time he does, it’s when you’re rushing out the house, nearly tripping over your untied laces, quickly yelling out a “bye!” before disappearing, hopping into an unknown friend’s car on route to who knows where. Jimin doesn’t know your friends, and he awfully wants to, just so he could be introduced as your boyfriend with his hand resting on your waist carefully, spoiling you the ways you deserve to be treated.

“Why do you keep looking at her like that?” Johnny asked, tossing another piece of popcorn in his mouth. He was lounging on the couch comfortably that day, snack bowl resting on his stomach with a remote in his free hand. Peering intently at his friend, it’s evident that Jimin has been acting offbeat lately, jittery even, and it only happens around you, like he’s got some secret he’s hiding. “You keep staring at her every time she’s home.”

“Has she seemed distant to you?” Jimin questions directly. It can’t be just him who sees this, right?

“No,” Johnny scoffs, chewing with his mouth open. It’s your pet peeve, watching your brother eat like such an animal and without you here, the room feels empty, missing your shrill screams to stop him. “She’s always acting like that. Rude especially, pretending that she doesn’t care to be involved in whatever I’m doing—“

“—Yeah, but she was never like that.” There’s an implied meaning when Jimin emphasizes the word in that way, and years of friendship with Johnny denotes without explanation that he understands the underlying message.

“True, then again, you do realize that she’s a teenager now, don’t you? She’s like… got her own issues going on to be following around her big brother and his best friend like some lost puppy. She’s got her own friends now, her own life.”

It’s something that Jimin doesn’t want to come to terms with. Sure, it was inevitable that you’d stop wanting to hang around your big brother—but what about him? Jimin wasn’t your brother. You couldn’t possibly see him in the same light… or did you?

If he could, it would just be the two of you hanging out. He deliberately takes the longer route that night he drives you home, because it’s one of those rare moments where Johnny isn’t around. Losing a date with Rosé didn’t have much of an impact on him as much as Johnny thinks, but losing the precious times with you hit hard.

It’s become a habit, bringing two soda cans from the kitchen whenever he’d come over. Johnny and you fought over a specific spot on the couch—the corner seat with the armrest that you both loved—and it’s a ritual that this happens before watching a movie. Eyes brimming with envy, Johnny always voices how upset he gets when Jimin doesn’t ever bring a drink for him. 

But today, when he brings both cans of Coca Cola, Johnny’s expression perks up. He’s happy that Jimin considers him this time, when really, it’s a reminder that you’re not here.

Jimin didn’t encounter ever being heart broken before. He thinks that it wasn’t an authentic heartbreak when you suddenly were playing a role in his life like you used to. But when you’re standing in your driveway, hair disheveled, stress written over your face with the hood propped open, something washes over him. He misses you. He badly misses you. You’re stunning, even when your white tank top has grease and dirt stains on it while attempting to fix your old car. Maybe you need help—this could be his shot in getting you to be more than acquaintances again. Somehow, your relationship is put on neutral, and it hasn’t moved from that gear since you put it in reverse. Just when Jimin is ready to leave Johnny’s room to lend you a hand, he notices another head pop out from under the hood.

Who the fuck was that?

The kid has a charming smile, Jimin owns up to that fact, with tattoos that start from his bicep and down to his hands, piercings that line his ears, and a body so built that his T-shirt is tight around his arms and pecs. He’s got a dingy rag in his grasp, wiping off his befouled palms while watching you speak with eyes corrupted with hearts. This guy was clearly into you and that didn’t sit well in Jimin’s stomach.

“Who’s that kid in your driveway?” 

Johnny peeks out the window where Jimin observes you from before looking back down into the magazine again. “Oh, that kid?” His friend doesn’t act surprised, which means the kid incontestably showed up before. “His name’s Jungkook. He stayed for dinner one of the days last week. Drives a motorcycle, a year older than her or something and is on the football team. Seems nice. I think he’s got a little crush on her.”

“Why didn’t I know that he stayed for dinner?”

Johnny shoots Jimin a strange stare. “Uh, ‘cause I thought it didn’t matter? What’s up with you?”

Then you laugh. It’s the most saccharine sound he hears, one that he wishes belonged to him solely, but when the tall kid, Jungkook, bashfully grins with his cheeks rosy at something you’ve said, Jimin’s jaw clenches in hatred.

“Sorry I asked you to come at such a weird time, Guk,” Guk?! Jimin’s blood is boiling. Even he hasn’t received a lovable nickname from you, and you’ve known him for years! “You’re the only person I know that has any type of understanding of cars. My brother is more of a bicycle guy than a car guy.”

“Don’t worry about it, pretty.” Jungkook says, the term of endearment bringing heat to your face. What gives Jungkook the right to have you flushing like this? “Thought we talked about this before. If you need anything, call me. I really mean it when I said I would give up this fuck boy life for you.”

You snort, rolling your eyes before pushing him back away from your car. Unlatching the car hood arm, you shut it harshly, confirming that it’s closed completely by pushing it down a couple times with your weight. “Yeah, whatever, Guk. I know how you guys work. We’re better as friends anyways.”

Jimin can’t believe it, but you invite Jungkook over for dinner tonight. He hasn’t had a meal with you in ages, and with your mom whipping up her special dishes, she practically begs for both Jimin and Jungkook to stay over.

“Ah, thanks Mrs. Suh for the lovely meal. And… also for letting me use your shower—I don’t know how much gunk she had in her car but it was all on me by the end of it.” He chuckles fetchingly, swooning your mother in seconds.

Ugh. This eyesore of a guy next to you that wasn’t him was bothersome. You’ll never know, but Jimin loathed Jungkook for being in that seat beside you—and it was then, when he saw you picking up some of the stir-fried veggies with your chopsticks from the shared dishes, placing some in Jungkook’s bowl, with a quiet, “eat up,” he could well-nigh hear the shattering of his heart.

You were Park Jimin’s first heartbreak.

And he blames it all on Jeon Jungkook.

Johnny snorts. He slams his locker with a thud, Chemistry textbook in hand that he’s never opened since the new school year. There’s disbelief spread across his face, uncertainty as to why Jimin is so willing to do a task that he finds such a chore, but if it meant one thing off his plate, he’s okay with it.

“I guess… it’s fine.” Johnny says hesitantly.

“I mean, you said you had that date tonight with the Son Naeun. If you have to grab your sister and drive her home from practice, you’ll end up missing it. Let me do it.”

Johnny sucks in his cheeks in thought. “But then you can’t go on your date.” He brings up, quirking a brow in confusion. “Why did she have to choose now to have her car broken down? Maybe I should just tell her to ask Jungkook—“

“No!” Jimin exclaims in interjection, and realizing how loud his voice had raised, he clears his throat. “I mean, no, I’d rather drive her. Forget the date. I’ll just cancel. Wasn’t feeling it anyways.”

“This is the second time I’m asking you to do it though.” Johnny frowns, a hand slipping into the front pocket of his jeans. It’s bizarre that Jimin didn’t want to go on another date with Rosé, especially with how much interest she had in Jimin, and there’s some eagerness in his tone at this. “I’ll be owing you.”

“No, I offered. Really. Let me do this for you.”

When Jimin approaches you to tell you the change of plans, Jungkook’s body is bolstered against the locker with that stupid, cheesy grin on his face. He’s so joyous to have your attention, cheeks probably burning and sore from how long he’s had this expression, and Jimin despises the guy to the core. That should be him feeling that way, not some jock with tattoos drawn on his arms like a kindergartener. 

“Hey,” Jimin greets, turning to Jungkook with a head nod and the latter reiterates. He’s doing his best to play it cool. “So, uh, Johnny can’t drive you today. I’ll drive you home instead. Just text me—“

“Oh, thanks, Jimin.” You smile softly, motioning your hand to gesture the male next to you. Jungkook does a little innocent wave, and Jimin feels like Jungkook knows something, teasing him with the action. “It’s alright. Jungkook is going to drive me home. He said he’s going to take another look at my car anyways, so I figured that it would be easier.” 

He’s fuming. Jimin swears if he said anything, his breath would burst into flames and he’s surprised when he responds, it doesn’t. “Oh, uh. Okay. Well, don’t hesitate to call me if you need me.”

When Jimin walks away, he misses the way Jungkook looks at you longingly, a hint of sadness in his gaze. “You should’ve told him that you like him if you’re not going to date me.”

You roll your eyes. “What? You want me to tell my brother’s best friend that I’ve been in love with him since we were seven? Don’t be unreasonable, Guk. He’d never love me back.”

When Jimin’s own high school graduation rolls around, it’s a whiplash to reality. It’s a smack to the face, punch to the gut, and a storm of ponderous concrete into reality. He’s leaving this place called home, starting anew at a university that’s hours away, without his parents or his siblings. Stepping past the threshold into adulthood, it’s a thing that no one is ever prepared for, and pushing aside all the sweet toppings that coat the actuality of things, he had to swallow the truth.  

He was going to be alone. Sure, he had Johnny as a roommate, but he didn’t have his family a room away anymore. 

High school was a challenge in its own. He has expectations he was supposed to reach, a reputation to uphold, and Jimin didn’t want to do any of it. Cheerleaders were to be under his arm with him displaying a signature smile on his face with charming words spilling from his mouth endlessly. Sadly, he didn’t want any of that. What he wanted was a Thursday afternoon at the library, surprising you with a cup of iced coffee, and studying together until your mother called for dinner.

That never happens. 

Instead, he was met with spending time with Rosé, a girl he technically faked having feelings for. Anyone with a set of eyes knew how beautiful she was, and she had a heart of gold to pair it with, but she wasn’t you. Jimin couldn’t commit to her because she just… wasn’t you. He felt guilty when tears spilled from the girl’s eyes when he told her that he can’t return feelings, but she wasn’t you. She couldn’t be you.

Seeing you beside your brother, arms around each other while wearing his graduation cap for a picture, his heart sinks. There’s no excuse to see you anymore, there isn’t any “I’m gonna go see Johnny” and sneaking glimpses of you passing by. 

When he got to college, forgetting you was a task on his to-do list that required a checkmark in the completed box.

So, Jimin has aced by doing it all. He’s lost his V-card, slept with a plethora of girls (safely, of course), and partied all week long. He joined the college’s wrestling team, excelled in his courses, and made new friends with Johnny along the way. 

He remembers in freshman year when Johnny got a call to come back home, he glances over at Jimin after looking down at his phone. “My mom wants me back this weekend. Wanna come with?” Jimin doesn’t hesitate to say ‘yes,’ claiming that it’s because he’s missed home-cooked food when he really has you saturating his mind.

Jimin can replay the memory of the first instance he saw you since going back to college quite vividly. It was hard not to, since you’ve grown into those baby fat cheeks in just a mere couple months.  

Truthfully, Jimin has always had a tiny little crush on you. It’s harmless, so he thinks, because he never harbored anything stronger than ‘she’s adorable, and it’d be cute to hold her hand while pecking her forehead’ kind of feelings.  

“Wow,” He slips, unconsciously dropping his jaw open. “You look… gorgeous.” You’re elegantly comely, still cute but a mature kind of cute. The “best friend’s kid sister” look isn’t you anymore. You’re… you.  

Jimin forgot that this time of year was when dances happened at your high school. He always forgets because he’s never been interested in things like these but seeing you here, dressed so enchantingly, he wishes that could revert back to high school and be the Prince Charming that offers his arm to you.

Then it hits him. Do you have a date?

And if you do, he’s begging it’s those group dates people talk about nowadays instead of a specific guy.

“H-Hey,” You greet awkwardly, rubbing your nape. Hair looped perfectly in a low bun with two strands let loose to frame your face, it’s the cause of his heart lodged in his throat because he’s speechless at the sight. “Thank you.”

He’s met beautiful women before. But none of them have shriveled his confidence into thin air like this. 

“Hey,” He breathes, finally swallowing whatever it was that blocks his airways. “Is… the dance tonight?”

“Yeah,” You respond, nibbling on your bottom lip. The way he’s all flustered because of you has your stomach in knots. Is this what it feels like to be a girl that Jimin gives his undivided attention to? “I uh… I agreed to let Jungkook take me since he’s annoyingly persistent.” 

Jungkook. It’s that stupid name again. Jimin hates the guy, even though he hasn’t done anything to him personally, it’s the thought that Jungkook potentially had a better chance with you that grinds his gears. 

“Are you guys dating?” He blurts, mentally smacking himself across the face for asking so shamelessly.

Laughing, your eyes crinkle in unison so adorably as you wave him off. “Oh, god, no. I think I’d spend day and night wondering if he was out with another girl.” 

So… did you like him? Jimin wasn’t going to straight up ask that, though he knows that eventually living without an answer might eat him up inside. 

When Jungkook arrives, there’s a smile that widens from cheek to cheek on you.  

Jimin senses his chances slimming down to none. It’s like he’s witnessing the first time Jungkook realizes that he might actually love you, from the way his gawk is bursting with adoration.

If Jimin had been entirely honest, trying to date his best friend’s little sister at the age he found out he had a crush on you would’ve been inappropriate. He had listed the pros and cons—and although there were so many pros to dating you, he couldn’t be okay at the notion of being eighteen and you being sixteen. It didn’t sit right with him.

So, he’s always kept his distance respectfully, though there’s a consistent churning in the pit of his stomach at the thought of you with someone else.

Especially when that someone else now has claimed an image in his head.

Jeon Jungkook is shameless, Jimin learns, and he gets to know Jungkook better in the short weekend he stays back home. For one, Jungkook is a “cool-ride” guy, which means he’s got transportation that’s not only convenient, but drives in style. He doesn’t care if it’s a sports car or a motorcycle—if it gets girls attracted to him like magnets, he’s in for it. The strange thing is that he’s fond of you, and how you so confidently reject him without faltering, only luring him in more.

“Jennie thinks you’re cute,” Jimin overheard you say when Jungkook is yet again underneath the hood of your car, apparently changing your oil. “Why don’t you go for her?” 

“Because she’s not you?” Jungkook responds back matter-of-factly, as if you’re supposed to know this. “She’s pretty and all, but she’s not you.”

Jimin can’t stand listening to the conversation anymore so he walks away to distract himself. He can feel his blood boiling, but the moment he steps out, he misses the way you sigh at Jungkook’s answer. “You know I’m not going to date you.”

“And I know that you’re never going to confess to him and he’s never going to do the same. So what are you waiting for? Just date me already. I’ll treat you well. Look! I even fixed your car up for you.”

You laugh at Jungkook, shaking your head in disapproval. “I’m not wasting my time dating guys unless I know I genuinely want to be with them, Guk. You’re sweet and all, but you’re just… too different.” 

It’s his turn to sigh heavily. “Is this what rejection feels like?” 

“Guk, this isn’t the first time I’ve turned you down.”

He whines. “I know, but still!”

Jimin doesn’t stop by often after that.

His chest aches every time he sees you, simply because you’re always more gorgeous than the last time he’s run into you, and he doesn’t understand how something he assumes to be impossible is… well, possible. You’ve grown into your features well, including improving your own basic makeup skills, making even your natural makeup days so effortlessly stunning. He doesn’t keep tabs on you, but he follows you on social media that you’re not active on, and can’t help but wonder who you hang out with lately, if you have a boyfriend, and if that boyfriend so happens to be Jungkook.  

He would know if Jungkook didn’t have his goddamn Instagram on private.

Howbeit, when Johnny announces during their sophomore year that you’ll be graduating high school, Jimin instantly jolts up from his bed at the words. “... so I was wondering if you wanted to come with, since well, the two of you used to be sort of close?”

“Uh, yeah yeah yeah, sure, of course,” Jimin says quickly, mouth full and head flooded with thoughts of seeing you again. 

Jimin grabs flowers. He doesn’t know which kinds you prefer, but he gets the prettiest ones he spots at the florists. The old lady who works there gifts him a warm smile, helping him decide which one was the best for a girl that he’s been fawning over for since his childhood, and he leaves the shop doused in confidence.

He remembers. He’ll never forget. 

In your high school graduation gown, the charming smile sits upon your lips. Your eyes practically disappear with how wide it is, pearly white teeth exposed and shining like the stars in the night sky. Posing for a picture, it’s kept as a memory, but what’s not caught is when you yell and slap Johnny’s arm for capturing such a bad shot. 

Jimin wants to frame this scene. The accomplishments you’ve made here; the plentiful tassels that decorate your shoulders, the amount of friends that come up and congratulate you—you’re the girl that everyone’s friends with. And he’s just another one of those people who stare at you admiringly, wishing that they were playing a more important role in your life.

When people finally disperse, he takes the opportunity in his grasp, striding his way to the girl that he finds so far, yet standing near him. “Hey,” He says, mirroring the expression on your face. “Congrats, kiddo.” You don’t know, and you might never, but he spent hours picking his attire. It’s just a denim jacket with a white tee, yes—but he probably went through eighteen different outfits before leaving the house. 

“Thanks,” you’re mumbling, however he hears you, and he basks in the reaction he gets. “I’m surprised you made it out here.” Heat begins to flood your cheeks, and he’s hoping that it’s not the summer’s weather that’s got you like this because Jimin wants nothing more than to be the reason you get recessive.  

“Of course,” He starts off, already giddy that you’re talking to him so casually. You haven’t in years; spending all your time avoiding him in any instance possible. But you’re here, plumb in front of him, and not running away. “How could I miss your graduation? Finishing high school is a big achievement. I’m proud of you. I’ll always be there for you during the big events…” 

He’d never miss your important events. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t want to transpire as if he’s coming on too strong so he adds, “...and the small ones, if I can make it, that is.” Jimin clears his throat. That should work.

“Well,” You begin, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I hope you can come to the BBQ tonight then.” Your voice will always be gentle, gingerly brushing against his fragile heart that you previously hurt without even trying. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Jimin replies, and he really wouldn’t.  

Your mom does an amazing job of making your backyard look like a professional venue. She has streamers that stretch from one part of the lawn to the other, banners that have ‘congrats, grad,’ written across, matching the writing that’s on the plates and cups scattered around. 

When Johnny gets up to assist your dad at the grill, Jimin takes this as his opening. Basically diving for the seat, he’s praying that nobody would come and interrupt any available moment he has with you. 

“So…” He taps his fingers against the wooden picnic table anxiously. Talking to girls was never difficult for him, yet somehow with you, it becomes a struggle. “How are you enjoying the after high school life?” Jimin almost smacks himself across the face. That’s the best thing he could come up with?

You laugh. It’s bubbly and warm, like the feeling of home, the comfort of being wrapped in a blanket in front of a fireplace. “It’s only been two hours since, Jimin.” Even you know it’s a dumb question, yet you play along anyway. You were good at making people forget about their embarrassment. “But… it feels great. Like all those years of public school ended with something valuable. I grew up, hit puberty, and finally have a better relationship with Johnny. A couple months from now, we’d be going to the same University and a year after, maybe even share an apartment together.”

There’s a lot of development in the positive direction between you and Johnny. You’ve always fought, but now it’s harmless bantering. And truthfully, Jimin doesn’t need to have you as long as you have a good relationship with your brother. 

“Well, how about that.” He says, arms crossing against his chest. “I felt the same way though. I learned a lot through high school and it’s made me who I am today. I hated a lot of those years but without them… I wouldn’t be who I am now.”

The look on your face contorts into shock. This is a revelation, because you don’t notice how Jimin felt throughout his years. 

“I thought you loved high school.” 

“I did.” Jimin nods at his own statement. “Sometimes. Most of the time it was pressuring, having to live up to everyone’s standards of me. I wanted to live freely, do stupid things and stay up late at night watching movies or sitting at the park ‘til the sun came out. At a point, I had a crush on you but everyone told me to go for Rosé because she was just so fitting for me.”

You’re stuttering over your own words. “You.. what?”  

He shrugs. “High school just wasn’t for me.”

“No—“ You rapidly shake your head, completely caught off guard by the information. “Aft-After that. You said you had a crush on me? I… I thought you liked that blonde girl.”

He doesn’t know where it comes from, but he spills. Jimin finally tells you the feelings he’s holding back in all these years, the heartbreak he had to overcome, and his experiences back in high school that made him reluctant to decide on things.  

It’s why he was with Rosé in the first place. 

Before he could finish elaborating his perspective, you interpose by calling his name through your tempting lips. “I… thought you didn’t like me. I wanted to get over this stupid crush I’ve always had on you.” You gulp, and he’s never seen you this nervous before. “I’ve been in love with you since I was seven.” 

Was Jimin wasting all those years of dreaming about you from afar when he could’ve had you in his arms?

Despite your confession, you made it clear that night under the stars. When your family diffuses, making their way home after ending the party with goodbyes and congratulations, Jimin steals you away to lay underneath the night sky at your nearby park. 

“I don’t want to date,” You admit sadly, heart falling apart at the seams from your own words. But this was a big girl decision, one that you’re certain of. 

“Not that I don’t want to date you—I think… you’re amazing, Jimin. I just… don’t want to hold you back.” You concede, and each reason you say after that has him torn to pieces. “I don’t want to be the girl that you end up giving up things for. I don’t want you to suddenly stop attending wrestling practices because you want to spend time with me, and I pray that you don’t ruin your friendship with my brother. I’m not worth it. I’m not worth pausing all the great things happening to you in college because we were the ‘could’ve been’ couple. I don’t want to be someone you resent being with, Jimin.”

And that’s the start of how you and Jimin never came to be. You’re the reason for a relationship that you yearned for, with a guy that were pieces of perfection fitted into a person. Although he doesn’t agree, he thinks more than anything that you’re worth it, Jimin respects your choice. “Maybe... in the right time of our lives, we’ll be together.”

You’ve seen the paths that his eyes had wandered to. Admittingly so, you want to go too. And yet, overcoming the one obstacle that stops you from doing so is just too hard. That obstacle ends up being yourself.

When a milestone hits, Jimin is always here. He never fails to be of attendance, often carrying a bouquet of roses, beaming brightly with a heaven-sent grin plastered on his face, and while still dressed in casual attire that he manages to make it look like he’s wearing something out of this world. And, without a fail, you reciprocate the same things for him. 

Moving into your college dorm, Jimin tags along, lending a hand. He helps you unload the boxes, carry them into your new room, and gives you some pointers and suggestions based on his time of living in one himself. Johnny joins with, hitting on a couple girls in the hallway in passing, but Jimin never reiterates the same action. Jimin always has his eyes on you, exclusively onto you, and you never realize how appetencingly the gaze is.

Jimin doesn’t talk about it, but he hates this distance between you. He craves eminently that he could turn back time, confess to you just earlier than the moment of recognition that you had feelings for him, and convince you enough to stay with him, regardless of what the future holds. You’re the one person that fell out of his grasp, spilling from between his fingers. And Jimin repents watching you walk away.

Sadly, it’s the last time Jimin ever runs into you during college again.

Campus is huge. Incredibly huge. If you were part of a high school sweetheart duo and broke off on bad terms, already committing to this university, you didn’t need to worry about accidentally meeting them outside of your courses. Although you and Jimin weren’t ever a couple, he’s never seen you again after that. 

Johnny and you hang from time to time, but Jimin doesn’t interfere. He notices the shift in the dynamic of the relationship between the siblings—Johnny seems to have eased you into his heart, allowing you to finally have that brother-sister bond that you hadn't had before. Jimin figures that it would be best to admire from the distance, but because of this, he hasn’t seen you since.

When Jimin graduates, he finally gets to see that pretty face yet again.

In his cap and gown, it’s almost like a replication of his high school accomplishment. Except, this one is another four years with a degree that he’s passionate about, one that he can hopefully apply to real life situations and finally get him to start that job he has. Jimin feels lucky. Jimin feels bliss.

But he feels something else when he sees you in that cute floral dress that hugs your curves so well. 

It’s a bit embarrassing, he thinks, how he’s viewing his best friend’s little sister at this very second. The swell of your breasts are tightly shoved into the cups of your dress, and when you turn around, he swears the breath in his lungs were vacuumed out because—when the fuck did you get such a nice ass?

“Jimin!” You say his name gleefully, and he could listen to it on repeat. You’re bouncing on the tip of your toes, tits jiggling in that tiny piece of fabric and he’s about to choke on his own saliva. “Congrats! I can’t believe you’re done college!”

“Y-yeah,” Jimin responds back weakly, and he mentally smacks himself in the face for that. Why’s he sound like a bitch for in front of you? But god, how are you so hot? If Johnny had a sister that looked exactly like him, maybe Jimin wouldn’t feel this way. Then again, during your childhood, the most perennial comment you received was how different your features were from your brother. “Wow, you look… pretty. How’ve you been?”

“Great!” Hands behind your back, he finally notices how dubious you’re being. “I uhm… have something for you.”

“For me?” Jimin queries, pointing at himself. 

You pull out a bouquet of flowers from behind, shoving it into his face with both your hands. It’s an assortment of pinks, reds, and whites, shades that are more fitting for you than himself. “I… arranged them myself. I know your favorite colors are blue and black but… nature doesn’t produce flowers in those colors. I figured that it would be a sweeter gesture if I did it this way.”

Jimin stumbles while trying to grab your brother from the crowd to take a picture of the two of you with your gift, and another one of just the flowers itself for safekeeping. You know, for when the flowers die. He wants a picture to remember for the ages. 

That picture remains as his wallpaper for years to come.

When Jimin goes home that night, he hates himself. He hates that he’s immediately stripped out of his clothes the instant he passes the threshold of his bedroom in the shared apartment, completely bare, clicking the lock shut, and tossing his body onto his made bed.

Dinner had been a combination of both your family and his. There was a lot of chatter between the adults about how much Jimin and Johnny have grown, and how proud they were that the two boys were done with their higher education. Jimin had a job lined up afterwards, and Johnny was planning on working for three months overseas in the States before coming back and continuing his career. 

Johnny had his attention on some girl that was waitressing. 

Jimin, however, had his on you.

You talk his ear off, but he doesn’t care. There’s stories from your current college year, and how many friends you’ve made. You mention all the parties you’ve attended, how much you’ve drank and the amount of times you’ve vomited. 

Gross, yes. But why does Jimin still wish he was there by your side as you’re hunched over the toilet, makeshift ponytail in his hand while soothingly rubbing your back?

Then it got him thinking. What if he had a hand holding that makeshift ponytail while you’re on your knees, pretty pink lips wrapped around his erection? His thoughts are clouded of your head bobbing, tits bouncing with each movement in that tight dress, warm orbs hooded, gazing up at him.

Jimin muffles a moan. His eyes are closed, thumb brushing over the slit of his cock, spreading the beads of precum over his skin. Instead of your mouth, he settles for his own right hand but his head is fogged up with just you. 

He’s kept this image of you inscribed in his thoughts where you’re an innocent, beautiful girl that he’s been in love with. Yet seeing you again, as a woman this time, all he can think about is the plethora of dirty things he could be doing with you.

He feels like a teenager again like this—eager to cup your breasts into the palms of his hands, and he could only envision the soft and supple skin underneath his touch. 

Leaning up, Jimin props himself against the headboard of his bed, dipping forward before spitting into his hand. The grip around his cock tightens, just as he assumes your pussy would do the moment you’d sink down. The spread between his thumb and fingers attempt to mimic the way your slit would, ring of muscle embracing him with your warmth, walls dragging along the ridge of his throbbing dick. “Oh, fuck,” He gasps, head dropping back against the wooden frame, droplets of sweat appearing on his forehead. Hips bucking into his hold, the lewd moist sounds imitates how wet you’d be for him. 

Beginning to pant, his head is dizzy, swarmed by the vision of you crawling over him, breasts exposed directly in his face, hand pressed against his bare chest. God, he’s so weak for the way your lips upturn into a smile, face so pure despite your contradicting actions. His hand quickens its pace at the abstraction of you bouncing on his cock, chest jiggling with every time his dick enters you. What he’d do just to hear your lovely voice moan into his ears, whimpering over his lap, filled with him to the brim. 

He remembers your uncovered neck and collarbones, coveting to bite and suck on the velvety skin. And when you gulp, gasping when he hits that spot, Jimin feels crazy that his imagination could run this wild because he’s cumming in his palm, ropes of white decorating his abdomen.

Life is great. Yet sometimes, it feels like there’s a missing piece to it.

You’ve graduated, and Jimin is present on the day of your achievement. This time, however, he doesn’t stay long. He hands off the flowers like he’s always done, snap a photo with the two of you together, but this time around, he doesn’t wait for dinner. That trademark smile isn’t personal anymore, and the meeting is rushed. “I have to get back to the office,” he says apologetically, and although you respond that it’s all forgiven, it’s not. You don’t believe his words, lamentably, and it afflicts the previous wounds from loving him.

You move on. You even get an offer to your dream job, and in spite of the fact that Jimin crosses your mind when you get the letter, you don’t tell him. You start your new job, and you’ve even begun seeing new people, dating some of them too. He’s absent from your head for a while, but there’s no doubt that Jimin still pops up in your thoughts from time to time, seldom as a memory. You learn that first loves aren’t ones to be thrown in the back burner—they’re your firsts for a reason.

Johnny has a girlfriend now.

She’s great, and there’s honestly no complaints coming from you. The girl is everything you’d wish for your brother to have in a lover; beautiful, smart, and kind. She’s fun to be around, often siding with you during your playful banters with your brother, and in the end when he looks at her with a grouch, she giggles and pulls him into a loving embrace.

Would you ever have that? The guys you’ve met never make you feel the way that Johnny does when he looks at his girlfriend.

You feel like a third wheel when you’re trudging along behind, watching the way Johnny’s face brightens the moment he sees her, amenable to anything she desires, completely smitten. 

“She’s everything and more,” You reminisce him confess. Johnny’s isn’t the type to produce ardent declarations of love, but when it came to her, he’s willing. You want love like that—love that motivates you to be a better version of yourself, and continue to improve so you could grow with that person.

Maybe you’d have to be content with this loneliness.

You’re thrilled when Johnny announces that he’s proposed to his girlfriend. It’s the most certain he’s ever been on a decision, and you’re truly happy for him. Johnny’s progressed from an annoying brother to a respectable one. 

Then it hits you.

You’d see Jimin again. Jimin’s going to be his best man, without a doubt.

In the end, your hypothesis is proven correct. Johnny announces that Jimin is going to be his best man, and his now fiancé, Chorong, essentially has to beg you to be a bridesmaid. 

“Fine,” You mutter under your breath, arms interweaving athwart your chest. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll be your dumb bridesmaid.” Although you roll your eyes and pull your lips into a straight line, you’re feigning annoyance because you’re more than chuffed to be part of the celebration of their love.

There never seems to be a ‘right time.’ Whenever he forecasts the universe is giving him a signal, a hint even, that two of you could actually be together, it doesn’t happen. His prediction results in being disappointingly wrong. A hurdle, barricade, or an obstruction prevents it from going in the direction he wants. There’s always a sign that blocks the road to you, reading “detours” and an arrow in another direction. 

Today is one of those times.

When he stands in front of you, with another pretty girl by his side, it hurts seeing him with someone else; the pain that twinges your chest is somehow tolerable. It’s as if your heart has grown familiar with this ache, adapting to the fact that no matter what happens—you and Jimin aren’t a thing. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t jealous of his new arm candy.

Maybe it’d been a mistake coming back home this weekend. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to run errands for your mom. Maybe spending time at home would’ve been a better option. But you know that none of these things mattered anyways because Johnny’s getting married soon. Whether you liked it or not, your chances of running into Jimin increases drastically, and with the wedding a month away, you may even see him on a daily basis now.

“Hey,” He accosts, in the middle of the bustling crowds at the mall, and he’ll never admit it to his current girlfriend, but when he sees you, it’s like there’s only you. The people around the two of you disappear within thin air and all he can see is that smile drawn on your face, with soft and pillowy lips that he wished he had an invitation to. “It’s been a while.”

“It’s always been awhile.” You reply playfully faintly, but you break away the eye contact. His warm orbs had remained alluring, hypnotizing you with those swirls of chocolate, sweet like the treat. If anything, you want to do your best in keeping your distance. Jimin has a girlfriend now, and obviously enough, she’s not you.

Jimin clears his throat, glancing over at the girl with the glamorous jet black hair. She’s breathtaking, just like the girl Rosé back in high school and it’s expected that Jimin interminably gets the ‘dream girl.’ Jimin gets the cool girls, and part of you hopes that you were eventually confident enough to be that cool girl. “This is... Johnny’s little sister. You’ve heard about her.”

“Right,” She confirms, her upturned lips showcasing disdain. Despite her beauty, the emotion behind the expression doesn’t demonstrate any genuinity in it. “Chaerin. But everyone calls me Cherry. Jimin’s girlfriend, but you knew that.”

You didn’t. Jimin doesn’t tell you about his girlfriends, he doesn’t tell you much about anything, and rightfully so. You’re the one who told him that there wasn’t an us anyways. “I did.” It’s a lie that slips through your teeth. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Cool.” She turns to her boyfriend, the boy who used to tend to your wounds back then, and pushes her hair away without a care, as if she doesn’t have a clue that the most solicitous guy belongs to her. “I’m going to that store we talked about. You coming?”

“Uh, yeah, after. Let me catch up with—“

Chaerin looks shocked. “You’re coming, now or never.”

Jimin sneaks a glimpse at you then at Chaerin. He desperately wants to pick you; he’d pick you over and over, each time again, but he belongs to Chaerin. “I—” Heaving out a heavy breath, his eyes shut to hold back all his emotions before fluttering them open. “Yeah. Okay.” His gaze is apologetic when it meets with yours, and the ache of heartbreak apparently doesn’t go away. “I’ll see you around.”

Tossing your keys in the front door bowl after entering your childhood home, you’re completely worn by the encounter alone. Why you decided to come back this weekend specifically is beyond you. Is this just how luck works?

Johnny lays on the couch, claiming the spot he usually does, forehead wrinkling in confusion at your reaction. “What’s up with you?”

“Jimin has a girlfriend?” You blurt, slightly agitated. 

Johnny sits up from his position, eying you strangely. “Currently, yeah. He’s always dated on and off though. Why?”

Honestly, you’re not sure what comes over you. It must’ve been this pent up frustration that accumulated throughout the years but you’re over it. You’re over this. No matter how hard you try, dating, meeting new people, and even avoiding Jimin, something in you perceives that he’s the one who got away. If you want something, you should go get it. Why are you hurting yourself when you could be happy? But what if that something is someone and he’s in a relationship? 

But is he happy? Does she make his heart flutter like he does to yours? Does she run through his mind even when he thinks he’s forgotten about her like he does for you?

“Because I wanted to be his girlfriend. I wanted to be the one who holds his hand, to be the one he confides to, to be—agh, I don’t know! I just wanted to be his and I’m not.” You reveal, and the moment you say it, there’s regret. If you could, you would devour back your words because Johnny isn’t supposed to know. What if he hates you after this? What if he resents you and thinks you’re absolutely out of your mind for crushing on his childhood best friend who stays ‘til this day?

Johnny freezes. He doesn’t move and it’s hard to decipher what's going through his mind because he’s silent the entire time. You exaggeratedly count years in your head until he finally speaks, face contorting to an empathetic one. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

You force Johnny to keep it a secret.

Thankfully, confessing to your brother that you’ve been in love with his best friend goes better than anticipated. He’s accepting. If anything, he’s remorseful. Johnny wallows in guilt because he’s the predator probing Jimin to start dating again, assuming that his friend was lonely the whole time when you’ve been waiting in the sidelines patiently.

“Sorry, kiddo.” Johnny repeats for the hundredth time that weekend, ruffling your hair gingerly. He agonizes the loss of his two favorite people ever dating, and the thought of going back in time to fix everything again gets entertained.

First loves are different from others. They’re the people that engrave themselves in your memory, even if you’re unwilling, and no matter how many wounds are made coming out of it, they’ll stay the first. They’re the lessons that help prepare you for the other loves to come, the ones who have you ready when you meet your last.

When you told him, “Maybe... in the right time of our lives, we’ll be together,” on the night of your graduation, there’s a lot of bitterness from the future version of yourself to your past. Why couldn’t you have just accepted his feelings then? Why were you such a coward, running away from something that could’ve been?

Would you and Jimin still be together today? Or would he stay just that—your first love?

But you’ll never know. Based off a stupid decision you made when you were eighteen.

“Why’d I wait so long?” It’s a rhetorical question because you know the answer but Johnny responds to it anyway. “Because you were a smart eighteen year old.”

You flinch, glaring at your older sibling. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, put yourself in your shoes back then. Why did you make that decision in the first place? What made you come to the conclusion that you didn’t want to pursue a relationship with him? Don’t say it was me. I know that it wasn’t.”

Slouching in your seat on the couch of your parents’ living room, you huff. 

In a way, it makes sense. The kid back then who graduated high school still had the biggest crush on her brother’s best friend, the one who never failed to lend a hand whenever she needed, and the moment he professes his love for her, she bails. But she does it with a purpose.

Jimin is a dream.

Jimin is unattainable.

Jimin is your brother’s best friend.

He was put on a pedestal in your perspective during your younger years, incessantly considered as someone who wasn’t even in the same spectrum as you were. Park Jimin was out of your league. You’d view him as this guy who was popular, loved by all the girls (well, everyone), and talented in everything. Jimin checked off the boxes of the list of perfect qualities in a man, and to be fair, you’d been a bit intimidated. Him dating you was a box left unmarked; you would be Jimin’s mistake. You didn’t want to be the downfall of someone who was flawless.

Park Jimin could have any girl in the world. But he wanted you.

It seemed too surreal at the time, as if he was saying it to pull a prank on you. He’s altruistic, generally gracious and looked out for you during the span of your relationship with your brother that had been rocky. But that’s Jimin. Sweet likes the candies in your pumpkin bucket on Halloween, like the first time you try to discover the Starbucks Frappuccino in middle school and it tastes amazing. He has eyes that mimic the way half-moons look at night when he laughs, the sound similar to the thickness of honey. He had collected many superlatives in your head, everything except the position as your boyfriend.

“I didn’t want Jimin to give up all the things he earned in college for a girl who’s just starting university,” You affirm solemnly. “I felt like if we dated, all of those things would disappear.”

“They wouldn’t disappear. Knowing you, you’d probably make sure he didn’t quit because of you.”

“I get that now,” You sigh, head thrown back. “It’s too late now.”

“Because what? Jimin has a girlfriend? Fuck her.” 

“Johnny.” You say your brother’s name sternly. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me that he doesn’t still have feelings for you. He’s been obvious since he met Jungkook for god’s sake. He hasn’t even really dated any girls.”

You tilt your head. “Jungkook?”

Johnny scoffs. “You’re not serious, right? There was probably smoke comin’ out of his ears when he met the kid. Jimin thought he was going to lose you to Jungkook.”

“He... liked me as far as back then?” Startled at the revelation, your eyes widened. “I didn’t know that.”

“He probably thought it was weird.”

“Well, did he tell you?”

Johnny hesitates. “No... not exactly. I kind of figured he had a thing for you when he rejected a date with Rosé just to drive you home. Then he was all grumpy when Jungkook said he’d take you instead.”

Johnny isn’t good with secrets. You should’ve known this, after all, he is your brother. In fact, you’re impressed that he’s kept it in this long.

That’s why when he suddenly asks to meet in public, Jimin isn’t quite sure what his friend’s motives are. Johnny chooses a local coffee shop, one nearby Jimin’s apartment. They decided to find their own places when Johnny met his first serious girlfriend, thinking she’d been his ‘the one.’ But he’d been wrong. She wasn’t, and Jimin was a good friend for staying by his side during it. This time, it’s Johnny’s turn.

“What do you mean she likes me?” Jimin says, exasperated. This has got to be a joke. 

Johnny fiddles around with the straw of his iced coffee, a penitent smile on his lips. He decides somewhere with people nearby, honestly afraid of how Jimin might react. They never fight, and when they did, they’d make up quickly. But something tells Johnny that this isn’t the same as it’s always been. He’s trudging on a fine line here, bringing up a girl Jimin had harbored feelings for, who unexpectedly reciprocated the equivalent ardor presently. 

And this happens after Johnny pressures him into dating Chaerin.

“My sister... she’s always had feelings for you and she still does.” Johnny begins, steering clear of Jimin’s piercing gaze. He wants to mend this, make it better on his friend, help his friend be happy, but he’s the one that dragged him into the current relationship in the first place. “I know you used to have feelings for her and—“

“—You knew.” He lets out a gust of air from his mouth, shaking his head in incredulity. “You knew the whole time that I liked her and you didn’t think to say anything to me? What am I supposed to do now? I’m with Chaerin.”

“I know but—“

“But what?”

“I don’t know.” Johnny divulges. It’s a lot of information to sink in at once, and he can’t possibly imagine how confused his friend must feel. “Do what you will with that. But she saw you with Chaerin the other day, and I’ve actually never seen her seem so...”

“So what?” Jimin snaps back, vertical wrinkles appearing between his brows. He’s furious, unsure what to think or say because it’s everything he wishes and can’t have at the same time. “What’d she seem like?” He speaks through his gritted teeth, and despite the evident anger his friend possesses, Johnny remains calm.

“Like she saw the guy she was in love with suddenly move on.”

In all seriousness, Jimin could never hate Johnny. Even in this scenario, where he’s put his own best friend in a position where he assumes that if he doesn’t make a decision fast enough, he’ll sink into the quicksand. His legs have been engulfed, and he’s not down to his chest and yet he’s suffocating. He doesn’t know what to do.

But what Jimin is assured of is that he doesn’t just have remnants of feelings for you, he still feels for you the same way he has before.

He ends up telling Chaerin that it wasn’t going to workout. Truthfully, she wasn’t his type to begin with—he’d only date her for the purpose that it would make Johnny feel better about the whole situation of getting engaged and Jimin being alone.

Either way, he wasn’t sure what to do now. It’s been years since your last true encounter, and you broke his heart.

Why is it that every time he sees you, the very same feeling of things churning in the pits of his stomach? As if he’s light on his feet, floating in midair, heart swelling and in unison filled with this inexplicable euphoria. Even when you’re across the room that’s overflowing with people, there’s just you. 

It’s a cliché, talking about how much of a delight it is to see that smile again but Jimin isn’t ashamed of it.

There’s nights like these, where the city lights don’t steal the spotlight from the glow of the stars and it’s just the midnight sky that allows those stars to shine. It brings him back to the days in high school, where responsibilities and problems seemed an amplitude larger, and he craves to tell the younger version of Jimin that it’d be one of the simpler times in life. 

He often thinks of that ‘could’ve been’ that you talked about before. However, it wasn’t similar to those dreams that you had for the two of you.

He imagines those late hour drives that ‘could’ve been.’ Relives the memory of himself daydreaming while on dates he spent with a stereotypical gorgeous blonde, mind submerged in you in that passenger seat, holding his hand as you listen attentively to the stories he shares. 

For the rest of the rehearsal dinner, he can barely hold up conversations with your close family members. They ask him a lot about his life, how he’s doing, and what he’s been up to, but he’s unsure if he’s formulating proper sentences with how much you’ve inundated his mind. He hoped to talk to Johnny and Chorong, but they’re so busy chatting up with guests that he figures it’d be best not to intervene.

Jimin needs a breather. The venue is spacious and wide, enough for people to spread out, but he feels the walls caving in and the air stuffy. Loosening his tie, he excuses himself from a discussion with one of your cousins who bats her long lashes at him, pushing the double doors out to the entrance of the place.

The brisk air hits hard but it’s just what he needs. He cools down within seconds, and when he turns, ready to go back in, there you are. Standing right beside him, and he gets a better view of you in that long dress that doesn’t do anything other than compliment your beauty. 

“Oh, uh... hey.” He addresses you apprehensively.

“Can I skip the formalities and ask you something?”

“When did we ever have to do formalities?” Jimin answers back skeptically. “We grew up together. You can be honest. I won’t be offended.” He talks ever so confidently when deep down, he’s nervous out of his mind. How are you so put together?

You chew on your bottom lip. The lipstick smears off the skin and yet you can’t care enough for your appearance when you’re occupied with rallying all your courage to speak out. “When’s the right time?”

Jimin quirks a brow. “I’m sorry? I’m not catching on.” He gets a whiff of your breath, and it’s laced with a bit of alcohol. He’s ready to halt you from saying anything else, in case you spill something you wouldn’t if you were sober, however, you beat him to it.

“When’s the right time for us to ever be together?”

Jimin doesn’t move. He’s rigid, scared if he makes any actions, he’d be waking up from a dream that you’re asking this.

Flabbergasted by your own boldness, you sigh, combing your fingers through your wavy locks that you’ve styled earlier. You’ve dolled yourself up for the night, in hopes of stealing his breath away, and you’re not even sure if it’s a success. “I just… I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s never a right time. And that’s totally fine—I get that there’s a chance that we may not even be a thing. Then it had me thinking… what if there isn’t one? What if… we’re supposed to just do this? Be together and defy what was presumed to be the odds?”

He wants this. There’s no doubt about it, and Jimin would never hesitate on an opportunity, an opening for there to be an us. But you’re drunk. He doesn’t want it to be this way, especially if there’s a contingent that you’re spitting nonsense. He doesn’t want to take advantage of a situation where you’re vulnerable, unlike your normal self.

“You’re wasted,” He states factually, hands on your arms to get a closer look at your bloodshot eyes. “Let me take you home. We can talk about this another time.”

“No.” You retort acutely. If alcohol is the only way to confess, then so be it. “I may be sort of inebriated, but I mean it. I wanna be your girlfriend, Jimin. And I know that you’re dating that girl, Chae...Cherr… Cherryin—“

“Chaerin,” He corrects.

“Chaerin!” Raising your hand up in accomplishment, you drop it immediately and continue with slur, all while presenting a frown on your face, “I know you’re dating Chaerin, but I really wanna be your girlfriend.”

“Kid, let’s get you back home.”

“Are you even listening to me?” You whine, stomping in your heels. Toes red with blisters on the back of your foot, evidently in pain, Jimin shakes his head at your tantrum, pushing down on your shoulder with a pointer finger so you’d sit on the curb. Angrily abiding by instruction, you settle on the concrete. “Jimin. I asked if you’re listening to me.”

“Of course I am, you know I’m always listening to you.” He counters, pulling the latch off of your shoes. Feet free, you plant them on the cool asphalt, cheeks flushing pink from both the drinks from earlier that night, and his caring gesture. “But I don’t want this to be something you’re blurting because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!”

He laughs lightly. “You are most definitely drunk, kid. You even said so yourself. But that’s okay. You had fun tonight.”

Unbuttoning his suit blazer, he crouches down to meet your height with his bottle of water in hand that he brought out earlier. As he’s twisting the cap, you jut out your bottom lip when he offers you a sip. “Do you care about your girlfriend like this?”

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” Jimin responds calmly, bringing the mouth of the bottle to your lips but your jaw slacks in shock.

“What?!”

Frustratedly, he clicks his tongue with an annoyed sigh of your name. “Why’d you do that? Now you have water all over your legs. Can you drink some of it at least?” He dabs the droplets with his sleeve.

“You… you and her broke up? Why?” It’s the first time your voice lowers and softens since the moment you get him alone that night, and your gentleness warms him. “I’m sorry, Jimin. I didn’t mean to push myself onto you. Are you okay?”

Quite frankly, he’s more than okay.

He didn’t tell Johnny, but after the words, “...she’s always had feelings for you and she still does,” was all he needed to hear to break off his current relationship. Keeping a comfortable distance from you right after was only for the safety of his heart, unprepared to reassemble it once again.

“It’s fine,” Jimin responds with a weak smile. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t see it working out, so I let her go. Anyways, let me take you home, yeah? Before you drink any more, of course.”

Jimin concludes on driving you home. Opening the door for you, you discern that it’s not in the same car he had in high school, but it’s this new, sleek matte black Lexus that he’s earned from his well-paying job. Being in this particular passenger seat feels different, specifically because you catch him casting his worried eyes in your direction occasionally, making sure you’re okay. 

Is this what Rosé felt? 

He believes your judgement is impaired from the alcohol, but you perceive otherwise. It’s merely a hint of the liquid courage in your bloodstream that turns on your boldness, and without it, you would’ve never had the guts to tell him how you really feel.

“You good?”

“Mmm.”

“That’s not an answer, kid.”

“Do you always have to call me a kid?” You scrunch up your nose in discontent. “We’re only two years apart. And we’re not in high school anymore. I don’t want you to see me as a kid anymore.”

He chuckles, voice deep and hearty. Jimin doesn’t waste his breath to say much, hands gripping on his leather steering wheel while keeping his attention focused on the road.

“What’s so funny?” You jut out your bottom lip.

“Because I’ve never really seen you as a kid since you turned eighteen.”

Puffing your cheeks, you’re in no mood to get out of the car. Giving Jimin a hard time wasn’t really helping your case in solidifying that you weren’t a kid anymore, but you genuinely didn’t want to leave your seat. It meant the night would end, starting over once again without Jimin as yours. “No.”

“Come. We need to get you washed up and ready for bed. I’m sure your parents aren’t going to be happy to see their only daughter completely wasted after the wedding rehearsal. They’ll be home later. What happens at the wedding?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “Future me can worry about that.”

“Hey.” He says gravely, narrowing his eyes at you. In return, you roll yours.

“I don’t like when you’re talking to me like that.” 

“Like what?”

“Like a kid being lectured and needs to learn a lesson!” You fire back, vexed with the way he speaks. “I’m older now. I have my own apartment. I hit puberty. Don’t you notice?”

Jimin keeps the door propped open with his body. “Of course I notice. You’re definitely not that seven year old that fell off a scooter. So, let’s take you inside, that way you’re all safe and sound, and you can be an adult as you’d like in the confines of your home.”

Frowning, you comply despite the dispute, pushing yourself out of the seat lazily, nearly toppling over the older male. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on,” his hand is wrapped around your wrist, another on your waist. “Take it easy. You’re drunk, remember?”

“No, I’m just clumsy.” You huff, ankles bending from slipping off the heel. “I got this.”

“Absolutely not.”

It takes some effort, but he finally gets you inside. He throws your shoes to the corner of your room, shuffling to get you into your bed. “I don’t wanna sleep.” You spout, sitting on the edge of your bedsheets. Jimin doesn’t respond, leaving the room and for a brief moment, you think he leaves, waiting to hear the sound of the front door shutting, but he comes back with a bottle of water.

“Drink some more water.” He says, pulling the covers out from under you. 

“Are you staying?” You ask dauntlessly, blinking blankly. Stunned, his mouth gapes open slightly, diffident about how to reply. “I-uh, probably not. Your parents are coming home soon and Johnny’s staying with Chorong. I don’t really have a place to sleep, and your couch isn’t really comfortable—”

“Sleep here.”

Jimin snorts. “What?”

You pat the empty spot beside you, motioning him to come closer. “Sleep here. Sleep with me.”

“Kid, you’re drunk.”

“I’m sober now,” you articulate, and Jimin finds this amusing. “I’m sober enough to know what I’m asking for, and what I’m requesting is for you to stay the night. It’s late, I don’t want you driving, and I don’t want to be alone.”

“I live like two blocks away—”

“Exactly! So you agree, it���s too late and too far.” He raises a brow at your take, but concedes regardless. Your parents wouldn’t be home for another couple hours, and he felt safer knowing that you had someone here. Maybe just a couple hours. He’d stay for a couple hours then drive himself back home. “Okay… fine. But just until your parents get home.”

He can’t sleep.

For one, he tries to pry you off, but you’re so adamant about snuggling up with Jimin. You’ve got your head laid on his chest, arm around his abdomen, and legs tangled with his own. He swears he’s on a tightrope, afraid of falling too quickly for you, but he’s got heart palpitations because of you. Despite wanting to be yours, he had to look out for himself too.

“Are you still awake?” You mumble, stirring. 

He inhales sharply, nodding as if you could see in the dark. “Yeah, I uh… I’m waiting for your parents to come home so I can head out.”

“Why?” Deflating, you want to sink in the feeling of being in Jimin’s embrace, but he won’t even hold you securely. He’s kept a wall built between you, and you’re desperately trying to demo it out. “Why can’t you just… stay?”

“Because you’re saying things while drunk.” Jimin states, “I can’t just… act upon my feelings when you’re intoxicated. You’re not in the right mind to make decisions.”

“But it’s been hours. I drank water, I washed up—Jimin, I know what I’m doing here.”

“Yeah but—” Suddenly, you sit up, hand against his chest. He swallows, the sight of you underneath the street lights that shine through the windows in the night is when he ascertains that you have him completely. “No buts for once, okay? Hear me out?”

Jimin slowly nods, zipping his lips shut.

“Do you think we’re idiots?” The space between his brows wrinkle in bafflement. “I think I was an idiot back then, thinking that I wasn’t good enough for you. That I wasn’t worth the battle, that me and you wouldn’t have worked out simply because I wasn’t… I wasn’t like girls like Rosé. And it’s embarrassing to bring up my insecurities years on, but I feel like an idiot. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so much regret for not dating. But I don't want that anymore. I’m over feeling sorry for myself, and since you said you’re single again… maybe now is the right time.”

Jimin stays silent, the balloon of stillness wadding your childhood bedroom. His eyes bore into yours, and you’re unable to decipher what runs through that mind of his. Did he still have feelings for you? Or was his break-up with Chaerin purely for the fact that he didn’t like her, none of it having to do with you?

“Before you overthink,” it’s like he reads your mind, “... I do still… see you more than just Johnny’s little sister, a kid, whatever you think it is. I haven’t seen you in that light in a long time, it just never seemed like the right time.”

“But now—”

“I know, but now I’m single and you’re ready. And that’s great, really. But what makes this time different from the last? You didn’t want this before, so why now?”

“Because… I’m not an insecure eighteen year old anymore. I realize I can’t keep pitying myself, and that if I want something, I have to get it for myself. That I deserve love, and yes, I still think you’re out of my league, but that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be loved by someone like you.”

With that, Jimin pulls you in, lips pressing against yours.

It’s the first time you’ve ever kissed Park Jimin, a boy that’s been out of reach for so long, one you thought you never could ever deserve. 

Floating on Cloud 9, is the best way you could describe it, like the feeling of freely roaming through a field of flowers, the breeze running through your hair, weaving through the skirt of your dress. His kisses leave you breathless, forget getting drunk off alcohol, you’re drunk off of Jimin. When you drag yourself away, a string of saliva follows suit, and a soft chuckle escapes from his chest. His thumb rubs your cheek reverently, and you can finally say that you understand how Johnny feels when he looks at Chorong.

Hungry for more, you bring him back in with a hand on his jaw, lips slotting against yours. It deepens, his tongue probing for entrance, and you allow him in with ease. This is not a dream, you have to chant in your head, and when your eyes flutter open momentarily, you’re bursting inside knowing that it’s not. The kiss gets hotter, his fingers enlacing through your locks, your own finding home on his shoulders. 

Trying to catch his breath, his licks and sucks trail down to your neck, his previous imaginations coming to life. You taste like honey on his tongue, and somehow, you find yourself straddling his hips, dress lifted up to expose your smooth, bare thighs. 

“Baby,” He gasps against your mouth when you grind yourself down onto him. It’s disparate from the nickname he gives you earlier in the night, being called baby seemingly fitting more. Confidence swells within you when he can’t keep his hands off you, wanting them everywhere and loving every part of you all at the same time. 

“Take it off.” You demand sternly. Jimin slips out of his shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room, pants off in seconds from your demand. Most of the guys you’ve been with were attractive, but Jimin was on a different level, and you know this because you’re despondent to have your mouth on every part of his body. “Can I eat you out?” He requests guilelessly but you need to be on his cock right now, you need him inside you. 

“No,” You reply bluntly, and this startles him. “We have other times for that. I’ve been waiting years for this, imagining this very moment, and if I have to wait any longer to have you in me, I might go insane.”

You… dreamt this too? He wants to query for more but he saves it for another time. 

Grabbing a handful of the fabric of your dress, you raise it, and with Jimin’s help, you’re out of your panties in record time. He reaches underneath, fingers dancing along your slit when he feels your juices coat them. 

“Already this wet?” 

“Shut up,” You mutter, embarrassed. 

Jimin chuckles at your recoil, but you won’t have any of that. Quickly, you line yourself above his cock, shocking him with your abruptness because he hasn’t even prepped you yet. Before he could halt your actions, you’re already descending down his length, emitting a groan from the two of you in unison. He feels better than you ideate; he’s thick, splitting you open to the point that you have to pause to adjust to his size. “Fuck, I was going to stretch you before you did that.”

“I can’t wait,” You whine, hips eagerly rocking against his. You’re so needy, and the fact that you’re just as despairing as he is for this turns him on more. “Please?”

He taps your waist, gesturing you to move, and you comply willingly. Lifting your hips, you drop yourself back onto him immediately, repeating the motion continuously. His hands find purchase on your ass, guiding you at a tantalizing pace, with skin slapping and lewd noises that’s got you clenching around his cock.

The glide of your warm folds around his dick is an out-of-world bliss, and he’d even say that the sensation is better when you’re in love with the person. He can’t believe that he’s been missing on this for years, when you were right in front of him all along. All those other girls he met couldn’t be compared to you, simply because there was only one of you.

You tighten your puffy walls around him, nearly choking him up in the process because it feels too good, and he fears that he’ll cum too fast. Reaching down, he toys with your clit under his fingertips, and the stimulation from the bud has you panting.

“J-Jimin, oh, fuck,” 

Your skin glistens under the moonlight, and he’s never seen anyone as beautiful. Strands of hair are golden from the luminescence of the lights outside, the droplets of sweat streaming down your décolletage and into your cleavage twitches his cock. You’re so intoxicated from him, mind fuzzy and unable to think straight, the straps of your dress fall lazily, breasts spilling out.

“Oh god,” He groans hoarsely. You’re so close to release, and he can tell from the way your pussy tenses up. When Jimin can’t take your tortuous pace anymore, he flushes your body against his before the heels of his feet dig into your mattress before he begins pistoning into your heated core.

The coil in your stomach snaps, unable to hold in your moans. He feels so good, and you could tell without words that he has the same perspective because he’s following after you, cumming onto your spasmed walls, painting them white. 

“Wow,” He heaves, head dropped onto the pillow. Jimin’s barely catching his breath, and the only sounds in your room are the two of you panting. “That was… wow.”

“You’re telling me,” Sprawled on your sheets, endorphins radiate off your skin. When you finally come down from your highs and onto Earth again, your eyes meet his. “Jimin.”

“Hmm?”

“Does this mean you’re… mine now?”

“I mean… it is the right time, isn’t it?” 

“Come on, we’re going to be late!” 

“Ugh,” You groan, struggling to zip up your dress. You’ll never understand the purpose of sewing in a zipper in the back of a dress, when the majority of the time, people cloth themselves. Why don’t seamstresses put it on the side? “Hold on, mom, I’m almost done!”

“Need help?” At your doorway, Jimin stands there, leaning against the frame. He’s handsome like this; black suit and tie that fits him perfectly, and chestnut colored hair styled back for the event. Brown is your favorite shade on him, but you love the colors of the rainbow that he dyes his hair of.

“Please?” You respond, desperate. He chuckles, a smirk pulling on his lips as he walks over like he’s the Hero of the day, dragging the tab up before hooking the top of the back of your dress. When he finishes, you turn around with a twirl. “How do I look?”

Chorong chooses a peony pink as her wedding colors, and although it’s not your preference, you abide by the bride’s instruction. It’s an off-the-shoulder neckline, satin material cascading down your body, paired with heels that will without a doubt cause discomfort later on in the light.

“Beautiful,” Jimin says breathily, unable to take his gaze off you. 

Jimin jots this down as the moment he first realizes he doesn’t just like you anymore, he might be in love.

“Thanks, baby. You’re not so bad yourself.”

“You two! Are you done yet?” Your mother hollers from the front of your house, and you grumble at the sound. “Fuck. Okay, uh… where’s my keys…”

Grabbing them off your desk, Jimin recognizes something familiar. “Oh? You attached it on already?”

Jiggling the keys in hand, his eyes are drawn specifically to the keychain that hangs on the ring. There it is, a razor scooter. When Jimin presents it to you, you question as to why he’s giving you a keychain of a scooter, and why was he gifting you something used?

But he confesses that he waited patiently for you that day you got your driver’s license. That he had been waiting patiently, hoping you’d run to him with open arms but you never do. Since then, he’s kept this hanging on his keys to remember the first girl that’s ever piqued his interest.

“Of course. It’s the gift you gave me.”

Jimin beams brightly at the comment. “Oh, speaking of. Don’t forget your license.”

You snatch your wallet off your dresser, waving it at him for evidence with a smile in reciprocation. “Got it.”

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts smut #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #gyukultfics #park jimin #jimin #bangtan

[allfourthefoxes]

The Foxes as things Awsten Knight has done

because it’s his birthday

most of them are nicky but i have one for every fox other than renee

Say they’re seven feet tall for years on end- Andrew and Aaron

Do a two hour live stream talking about puberty, reproduction, and sex out of curiosity- Matt

Wear a nude colored tube top to look naked in their driver’s license photo- Allison

Say that when they die they wanna be taxidermied and displayed in The Hard Rick Cafe- Kevin but make it an exy store

Live tweet (ig story) their vocal rest then go on to say ‘i was on vocal rest for 16 hours ya i was asleep for some but clap anyway’ and ‘do u know how hard vocal rest is??? i got things to go! people to do! places to say! stuff to see!’- Nicky

Sit in the park for an hour and feed squirrels- Sounds like Renee but the way he did it was very much Nicky or Matt

Play ‘hot cross buns’ and songs like that at a concert at the beginning of the acoustic set- for some reason I wanna say Neil

Ask ‘would you sacrifice your sibling for a guitar pick?’ at a concert- Aaron

Say ‘BREAKING: ABSOLUTE HUNK ESCAPES FROM HOT DUDE FACTORY, LAST SEEN BEING A MAJOR CUTIE. IF SPOTTED PLEASE SAY “WOW!"’ with pictures of themselves attached- drunk Kevin

See a headline that reads ‘The Apprentice star Luisa cries hugging her dead horse after it was preserved by taxidermist’ and say ‘IMMA DO THIS WITH [INSERT FOX] SOMEDAY’- Nicky

Immediately switch to their other account and comment ‘first’ when they post- Neil

Say that it’s a friends birthday when it’s not to embarrass the friend and have the whole restaurant sing happy birthday to them- Aaron

Claim until the day they die that they are in Knives Out 2- Andrew (just to fuck with people)

Say that Ke$ha is their inspiration- Nicky

Put ‘problematic teen parent’ in twitter bio- Nicky

#aftg #all for the game #aaron minyard #kevin day #allison reynolds #andrew minyard #dan wilds #matt boyd #neil josten

[p-redux]

Gloating about being an insider during a time of sadness is DISGUSTING

I'm not gloating, I'm posting INFO and FACTS like I always do...and showing restraint and discretion in not posting it sooner, and not posting the details, which I haven’t and won’t.

But you know what IS disgusting? Here’s a LONG list, and by no means, a comprehensive one, of what Extreme Shippers, Former Extreme Shippers, and Assorted Haters have done that is VERY DISGUSTING. I’ll write it stream of consciousness-like and not in order. Put your feet up and grab a tall drink. Here we go...

Click on Keep Reading

Extreme Shippers found Cait’s condo when she used to live in Los Angeles and sat outside for hours waiting to see if they saw her with Sam. ES blackmailed and coerced a minor, a 14 year old girl who was a super fan of Abbie’s sister, Charlotte Salt, into giving them info regarding Abbie and Sam. The girl was following Abbie’s locked Instagram account and could see the Sam related stuff Abbie was posting. ES won her trust, she gave them info about Abbie and Sam, they then told her if she didn’t screencap and give them the Sam related pics on Abbie’s IG account, they would tell Abbie and Charlotte that she had been giving them info. Sick doesn’t begin to describe it. ES tried to dox and did dox anyone and everyone who got in the way of their SamCait ship. Doxed, as in PUBLICLY posted, the names, addresses, pictures of their houses, professions, husbands’ and children’s names, employer names of ANYONE and EVERYONE who posted something to contradict the ship. They even posted pictures of their children. Again, messing with minors is a big no no, and usually a crime. ES created fake Ashley Madison accounts (that’s the website for married people who want to meet people to cheat on their spouses with) and pretended to be non-shippers’ husbands to try to make it seem like the husband was cheating. It got so bad, that in some cases, non-shippers had to get restraining orders, cease and desist orders, get the police, lawyers, and in TWO cases, the F B I involved. Yes, the F B I has come a knocking on a couple of Extreme Shipper’s doors because of their ILLEGAL actions. ES lured some of Sam’s girlfriends into believing they had their best interest at heart, gained their trust, and they PUBLICLY posted their PRIVATE messages. Luckily, in the case of one Sam’s ex, Abbie Salt, she later did confirm she and Sam dated, which totally negated everything that shipper had said Abbie told her.  ES directly BULLIED and HARASSED fans, Outlander cast, crew, journalists, reporters, family and friends of Sam and Cait. ES contacted people’s employers to try to get them fired...literally messed with people’s livelihoods. They tried to get the Outlander drivers fired because they started posting stuff against shippers AFTER shippers turned on them. ES waited outside Sam and Cait’s residences in whatever location they were in to try to “catch them together.” Taking pics at someone’s private residence is very different than getting pics or video in PUBLIC places. For years, ES have manipulated pictures, gifs, video to sell the SamCait LIE to their gullible shipper friends. They’ve made money off selling these lies. ES have ostracized and banished any shipper friends who acknowledged the ship wasn’t real. They sent their best friend to Tony’s bar in London to try to prove he and Cait weren’t together, and when she unwittingly found out they were, they then bullied her and kicked her out of shipperville. ES created multiple hate sock accounts for the SOLE purpose of CYBERBULLYING Sam’s girlfriends and dates. Any time Sam dates a woman, ES follow the same pattern. They contact the women’s employers, parents, siblings, other family members, friends, ex-boyfriends trying to malign the women. Some examples: They pretended to have gone to high school with Mackenzie Mauzy and spread lies that she had a bad reputation in high school. They spread lies that Gia was a paid escort. ES contacted social media outlets to spread LIES about Sam and Cait and their significant others. Contacted anyone associated with Cait and Tony’s wedding trying to intimidate them into saying there was no wedding. They posted the picture of a waiter at one of the Outlander premieres and tried to pass him off as Tony to prove Tony didn’t go with Cait. ES have continuously posted pics of Cait with her naturally poochy belly trying to prove that she’s been pregnant with Sam’s children for the last 7 years. ES publicly questioned her if she was pregnant. Sam haters and disgruntled ex-shippers have spread rumors that Sam is gay. Nothing wrong with being gay, but what is wrong is spreading LIES. ES have badmouthed Cait’s HUSBAND, Tony McGill saying he was: her assistant, gay, her gay assistant, a loser, broke, boring, ugly, her purse holder, etc. And trust me, what I’ve posted above is the SHORT list.

And that’s not even mentioning what they’ve done to ME. Ever since I committed the unforgivable sin of posting source info CONFIRMING Sam and Cait were never a couple, and Cait was dating Tony, way back in 2014, this is what SamCait Extreme Shippers have done to me. Tagged me endlessly when I had my Twitter account telling me things like “Die, b*tch,” “Die, c*nt,” “You should be gang rap*d,” “Drop a house on her,” “You’re worse than AIDS,” and those are the “nice” comments. They literally BULLIED me every day, all day for YEARS. They also created hate accounts on Twitter and Instagram to mock me, parody me, and post lies about me. They were convinced they’d found my real identity (based on circumstantial evidence, which I’ve countered and can counter with the actual truth), and proceeded to post THAT woman’s FULL NAME, city where she lived, profession, reported her to her licensing board, and created a fake Twitter account pretending to be her. She got a lawyer and was able to get everything taken down, but they basically tried to ruin her life. They’ve spread LIES about me being the one harassing THEM and managed to convince over 60 dopes with disposable incomes to give them money for a GoFundMe campaign where they hired a Private Investigator to try to find me. They started a witchhunt letter writing campaign, hashtagged it on Twitter, #takebackourfandom, or some such bullsh*t, tagged everyone in Outlander cast and crew “telling” on me and even sent letters and e-mails to Starz and Sony executives trying to...I don’t know what. Hahahaha. It’s so ridiculous, my brain is scrambling as I write this. They told their followers not to believe anything I say and that I’m evil personified. ALL of that and more because they couldn’t face the FACT that their SamCait ship NEVER EXISTED and I was the one that confirmed it. When I think about it, I can’t believe I lived through all that. But I stayed because I knew I had the TRUTH on my side and that eventually it would all come out, which of course it did. And because I’m a bad bitch who doesn’t scare easily.  EVERYTHING I’m referring to here is well DOCUMENTED with screencap proof. Or just ask anyone who’s been in the fandom long enough, they’ll attest that what I’m saying did actually happen, and that Extreme Shippers, Former Shippers, and Haters did do all of that.

So, Anon, when you come at me with “disgusting” things in this fandom, please refer to the above before you start pointing fingers at me. 

PS. “Anon,” I’ve got your Los Angeles/Anaheim Samsung Galaxy S10e IP address tagged. So, send me another hate Ask and you’ll get blocked. And don’t bother using a VPN...once the tag is on, it follows the user no matter what IP they use. Now you know. 

#extremeshippers #haters #samheughan #caitrionabalfe #disgusting #trolls #bullies #cybercrimes #abbiesalt #mackenziemauzy #missgiamarie #witchhunt #tonymcgill #charlottesalt

[mydelusionsarereal]

Manifesting

- My family, nuclear and extended family are healthy and happy and free from pain/disease/cancer/etc. they look and feel great and are thriving 

- Symmetrical Eyes (movement: day by day)

- 4 Fitbits (1/4 on 5/23/22, 2/4 on 6/11/2022)

- LOTS of MONEY: multiple streams of income, $10K+ months, coins/dolla bills on the streets, gift cards, ticket resales, $ out of thin air 

- Law School & off the waitlist & financial aid offers

- Specific Person (movement: a Hinge match who is my ideal)

- Operation $exy: desired face, slim legs, slim waist, tinyy frame, sexyy, i am thinspo, 

- 2 Beats Studio3 Wireless in Shadow Gray headphones, Beats Studio Buds – True Wireless Noise Cancelling Earphones – Sunset Pink

- Cute Dates: Walks outside, Museum, Amusement Park (Kiss on Ferris Wheel, won toys for me)

- Amazing at Korean

- Amazing at Dancing

- Amazing at Singing

- Amazing at Cooking

- Amazing at Golf: solid drive/fairway/iron/pitching swings, hole-in-one putts

-Amazing at Driving, Passed Road Test, Got Driver’s License

- Amazing at Pole-dancing/Dancing Classes

- Tidy Room

- Koya Plush Doll

- BTS Merch (from LV concerts, merch from cousin

- New Close, Friends (movement .. met a new friend in May 2022 who I have a lot in common with)

- NYC Penthouse

- Workout Girlfriend & Boyfriend

- Matching Athletic Set: pink, black

- Matching Lounge Set: Calvin Klein in pink, black, and grey

- Sexy Lingerie

- Perfume

- 1000 Followers on IG, 1000 Followers on Twitter

- Ride & Own a Tesla

- Shoes: athletic sneakers for running, every day walking sneakers, black boots, professional work shoes, Converse Chuck Taylor All Star Hi Lugged Sneaker - Mouse, UGGs Fluff Yeah Slide Sandals 

- BTS - Proof (CD) (Standard Edition)

-  Negative COVID test result 4/30/22,5/3/22, 5/13/22

Out of Thin Air:

- $ out of thin air from family in May 2022

- $5 Bill on sidewalk lawn on 5/22/22

- an old nintendo game my brother thought he sold 5/22/22

- law school books 6/12/2022

#my manifesting worked

[j9only]

Today with J9

Joong had finals. But he tweeted that the teacher was 40 minutes late to a 10 minute exams. No offence but as a fellow teacher there better be one hell of a good reason why you are late for a home teaching exam. Afterwards he went back to sleep. Which fair, he tweeted this at 10AM an that was after the exam. And Nine was still liking things at 1:30 in the morning, so he didn’t go to sleep very early. Joong then uploaded a picture of 2 of nine’s dogs. So fandom speculation that Joong might have been at Motive got laid to rest. 

Nine uploaded the same picture to IG, Twitter and to his Weibo account. And more pictures were released from the first promo tour of OxQ. Nine came online to say he would do a live if the fandom reached 150K today and where I thought that would be easy peacy this morning, it turned out the fandom got tired of streaming. Which is understandable after going hard for two days.  It didn’t help that Youtube kept freezing the views. But the fandom managed to do it, sadly however the number was reached somewhere between 00:10 and 00:14. But we’ll just blame Youtube for freezing and not counting views because they were seen as bots.  Joong went live on his own around 21PM Thai time, he was listening to Me nonstop and was drawning on the floor. He was drawing Binsu. It took him most of the live to finish. He told fans to stream in Thai, English and Turkish and sang along most of the time. Such a talented boy!  He sings, dances, is multi-lingo and he draws.  What a man!  He also talked about what He did today, first he had an exam and then he and Nine drove to Motive to pick up his notepad because he left it there. Just for one notepad and Motive isn’t nearby, it’s a good 1.5-2 hour drive. So that would have taken up all afternoon. But the real question is; Is Joong allowed to drive Nine’s car? He has a driver license, so clearly he can drive. But Nine still drove him all the way there and back again. Unless Nine really enjoy drivings. Either way, Chauffeur!Nine hasn’t retired just yet.   Afterwards he saved the live to IGTV, so you can watch it back. And he came online to tell us he was going to continue streaming it ^^. Pavel and Ben said they’d join him. Nine said that he was reading all the tweets encouraging people to watch it. Listen Ben and Pavel admitted to stalking this fandom, all of it, and we know Joong does it too. So it’s not surprising Nine is out there reading everything too. 

#twj9

[kurou3gi-blog]

Everything got weird in 2019 for Ks and exo. First baek said on a show that Ks was strong and Jm didn't like him saying that. Then baek says that everything will be back to normal with the return of Ks. Why did he say that? What power Ks has to bring normality to a group practically undone by s * m. And we know that Ks is one of the members most badly treated by s * m.

**Warning full on nonsense and wrong grammar talkative**

Tbh I think all of ekso except jd are so audacious boys than most of us think they can be even esm... XD

They loved to throw the troll thing that esm say “Don’t do that!!” to us when all of them on limit break mode and extreme need to send some hints to us when eksol or some of eksol on crisis mode about ekso case XD

I still remembered how jm shouted the bitchy words out loud to blame krys once during live speech on music show when they are facing a tsunami after wave after krys left ekso a few weeks...

And how he streamed ig live and tried hard to say something to us after soo entered the military....<<But at last I think both of them changed mind on mid way...

Especially... How he say about that capitalism.... With that face mode and action XD

And think of how bh can’t keep the secret about new album songs or choreography when he on extreme hype and haul mode... Especially how he leaked about kd more than ones at free time on stage that made jd tried to do quick time event to stop his mouth XD.... 

+Don’t forget how bh tried to tease cy’s foots with his foots during ekso showtime filming... 

+How he told us about how lsm reacted to his plan...

Then....

Think of how lay try to present that he still ekso all of time... We are far, but still are one...

I think how they try to catch time to say to us like that is the one of how to show that they are deeply care in eksol like what they say all of time....

If they don’t know what most of eksol think about them in details... It’s hard to see them choose to insert some words in to those sentences...

I think they want to comfort, console and solace us to calm down... Or spoiling  for more excite by chance.... If esm still do nothing with those cases... Like if you don't do it, I will do it... With our ways that... A bit harm...

Then about “what power Ks has to bring normality to a group practically undone by s * m.”

I think soo has deep impact with ekso and eksol than most of us think he has....

Turn back to wolf pre-comeback period....

When soo got first crisis injure....

We knew he admitted hospital... 

And on that time I thought that we may probably not see him again until he leaving the hospital and we can do only waiting for esm updating... Same as what esm do most of times.

But like we see...

esm had set the hospital bed visit scene to show us about soo’s symptom condition at that time... Like they wanted to make us sure that he fine and stop us to complain them about his injure condition...

Then think of his second injure at jp concert stage...

Some jp twit acc on that time had spread the photoshop pics and claimed that those pics were secretly taking when he was receiving treatment at the hospital. And one of those acc had posted about his condition and claim that she is the nurse at that hospital....

Then... Think of ztao and ji’s injure case... 

+ His leaving rumors on early of 2019...

I knew we knew that we often hear the rumor about someone in esmtown need to go... And most of those kind of rumors just ended with esm ignored them or short announce that they just recontacted...<<Even some of them not re... Or announced with themselves that they already resigned...

But only soo leaving rumor on 2019 that made esm sent jd to solve it with extreme clear by + the explanation of soo’s contact statement to make us more sure that esm have time at least 3 years after that to put soo in quarantine with them...

Think of how many of eksol explosion that can press esm to do like these...

And about soo in other ekso members’s mind...<<I used “other members” words because I not include ji... And I think you knew why XD

I think if you knew more about soo&ekso since their pre-debut period...

You should not asked me like that...

Before that crack issue on 2016... We can see a lot of how soo take care of ekso on stages and variety shows even on bts clips and fan cam clips... 

Even china line especially lay had talked about how soo takes care of their illness and healthy...

And I don’t think those words are script if we think of how lay tried to aboard day by day for seeing soo enter the military only.... Even he too busy on that time...

Then... The one of most epic moments in my eyes...

Turn back to when lulu left ekso a few weeks and most of us worried about hunnie’s mental after none of his update....

Until we see him went out side to take dessert time with cy and soo...

Tbh I no wonder much if we see he went with only cy or 3p with kai or ztao or jm... Like we knew that cy take care of him since trainee period and how esm tried to show us how maknae line close to each other on ekso showtime...

But on that tragic time he chose to went with soo...

And it seems like a start time point to see hunnie take a break time or relax time with soo...

+How jm sent his black card to soo on ekso showtime...

+How soo omma took babies nini and hunnie to get driver's license...

I think soo knew how to crowd control with back up style...

If jm is the tank of ekso...

I think soo may carry and support of ekso...

ppl think that the top influencer just on front row...

But sometime at the back of those influencers....

The invisible influencers are leading them like an unseen mind console leader...

Hope you understand my poor eng - -”

[marcosllorente]

How is that post ableist?!? I truly don’t see it. You’re reading into something that isn’t there and calling her out for something non-existent. Call her out for being dumb and anti-vaxx but don’t call her out for this.

okay ig “i don’t see it” sounds like a good argument 😁 stream drivers license by olivia rodrigo

#ask #plenty people thought the same but i’m reading into something that isn’t there 🤧 omg heartbreaking

[moonbeaminquarantine]

coincidence?

so today was my first time going to church since the pandemic started

I went to GRII, a church that Sam introduced me into. So, basically this became the church we attended when we're worshiping together.

few days back I asked him if the church is save, because he's been going to church for few months since. and that time I was craving the real worshipping. all those time I've been worshipping at home with family and my mom didn't like live streaming so we just kinda following the church agenda and no sermon, just reading verses that's given by the church that was intended to be the topic of the sermon. anyway, he said it was safe. it was crowded, but still safe for social distancing standard. and so I decided to go to church.

I thought and hoped - just a little - that he's also attending the church this morning so I could met him. I asked him via chat and he said he planned take the noon schedule. so I said okay. cause I really don't mind being at church alone. I love to be alone.

after church, I was planning to do an outfit video. so while I was searching for cute spot, a red car passed me. Sam's car is red and it was Renault which not a common car to be found in this city. and I saw at a glance the license plate, the alphabet was JHT. and I swear if I'm not mistaken it's his plate. so the situation was me and that car facing each other, going towards each other. and it was a super narrow path so I thought there's no way the driver didn't look at me this way. then I immediately facing other way. idk whyyyy maybe because it was really him, I want him to spot me first or because if he was actually lying, I kinda didn't want him to be embarassed for lying, because he said he wasn't in the church. and the car didn't stop. and now I'm thinking back, when the car had passed me and didn't stopped me, why did I not look back and made sure at the license plate???

anw after recording my outfit, I went to Sinar Utama which was across the road from the church, but it was booked by someone for that day, means they didn't accepting public guest. so I was planning to go to Tabona but I remembered it must be very crowded cause it's sunday. then I went to Sun plaza but omg it was crowded. I could already see from the cars going in and the road are quite jammed. Then I went to Tien sin.

I've already kinda want to visit Tien sin for a while now since they also sold big cut noodles and I thought this is the perfect time I guess.

went there, I picked my table. A bit further inside I saw a guy alone that looked like Sam from the shirt - yes, I know his shirt. he only had 4-5 shirt - and I guess from the hair. he just had a hair cut but he gave me the picture of him with the new hair cut. but he was facing the other way. so I thought "nah, his body is not that broad" and Tien sin was no more our favorite place since so long. we always went to Sinar Utama if we wanted noodles.

So I picked my table a bit outside, ordered my food. I took a video and a picture of it to send to Sam. wanted to let him know that there's big cut noodle there too.

in the middle of me trying to send those to him, suddenly a man standing beside me eye to eye with me. I was surprised! Looked at the man and it. was. him :)

how. on. earth?

he was that man behind me.

that moment was so absurd that we were speechless. didn't even want to talk about it.

he said he was watching my outfit video in ig and saw me from the back when he was walking to the cashier. saw someone that looked excatly like me with the same ootd and he had no doubt it was me.

so I asked him where he was before since he said he planned to go for the noon schedule church. he said he was from HKBP with his family. and I asked where's his car. cause when I parked my car I didn't see a red car. he said he parked quite far cause he couldn't get a parking lot.

now, I'm really curious if that red car in the church that I saw was really him. cause I swear I wasn't halucinating.

I guess imma make it clear now. I'm gonna call him