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My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since, well, before any kiss. And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back. The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree.
- Alex Turner
—
Jimin’s pretty sure she’s like, obsessed with Minjeong.
(Of course in a normal way—she didn’t stalk the younger girl or anything crazy like that. She just really liked her.)
Most of her thoughts throughout the day consisted of Minjeong. It was like her world revolved around the girl (not in an unhealthy way, of course. She had respect for herself and for Minjeong!). The girl basically lived in her mind rent free. Always.
When she was alone in her bedroom with the curtains drawn and her legs propped on her walls, her thoughts always went to Minjeong.
“I wonder what Minjeong’s doing right now?”
When she was out running an errand or hanging out with friends that weren’t Minjeong, she’d see something, or someone would say something, her mind would immediately go straight to Minjeong.
“I wish Minjeong was here for this.”
When she was overwhelmed and needed the comfort of another person, the automatic person she’d think of was…
Minjeong!
Minjeong was her rock. Her other half. They wore ‘BFFS FOREVER’ friendship necklaces for a reason. They came as a package deal. Jimin wasn’t herself with Minjeong—and she’d like to think that Minjeong felt the same. Jimin didn’t know much about the multiverse, but she liked to believe they were soulmates in each one. Minjeong was her girl—and Jimin was put on this Earth mainly to worship Kim Minjeong. If she was in a room full of every person she’s ever talked to, Minjeong would be the first person she’d look for.
The girl had Jimin completely smitten, wrapped entirely around her finger.
Minjeong’s different than her other friendships.
With her other friends, there was playful banter and teasing touches. There was laughter and tears. Long deep conversations about life that could go on for hours, nonstop talk about “what ifs” and made up scenarios. With her other friends, it was all fun and silliness.
With Minjeong, it was all of those things, and more. There were inside jokes that only they understood and lingering touches that felt too intimate to be brushed off as just friendly. There were talks about their future; about meeting each other’s future families when they’re older. About being each other's bridesmaids when they marry, and raising their children together on a farm— somewhere far far away where only they would exist. With Minjeong, friendship was so much more than a bond between two people. With Minjeong, she was her lifeline. That soulmate shit.
(She doesn’t tell Minjeong ever that she imagines doing all those things with her. She imagines a wedding, but instead of being with a potential groom, Minjeong’s her bride. She imagines children with both their faces—them settling down as a family into a comfortable home with a wall of books in the living room and a scrapbook full of memories. She imagines being withered down until her skin is nothing but a thin layer over her bones, Minjeong right by her side, just as wrinkled and hunched over as her, taking their last few breaths together as they think back to their story. She imagines being buried together with their hands intertwined— their skulls facing each other—locked and sealed away from the rest of the world together, forever. She imagines another universe where they meet again as a new version of themselves, recreating it all over again. On repeat, in a cycle)
Jimin’s obsessed with Minjeong, and there’s honestly no one else she’d rather be more hopelessly devoted to
—
Sometimes Minjeong’s just too soft. Her voice, her hands, her lips, her eyes—it’s all too soft. Sometimes, when Minjeong stretches out in front of Jimin like a cat, and waits for back scratches in the morning like a puppy, she’s so fucking soft, Jimin just wants to put her in her pockets and never let go.
“Jimin unnie.” She whines, her hands pawing at Jimin to pay attention to her. (Little did she know that Jimin’s almost always paying attention to her, always focused completely on her.) Jimin pretends that she’s typing as she tries to bite back the smile that was itching to form on her face.
They were in the library as Jimin was taking notes for her biology class that she missed from earlier in the morning due to Minjeong’s clinginess. Now she was pretending to be mad at her, ignoring her as she typed the notes that Aeri let her borrow.
She was going to give in at any moment, of course. She just wanted to tease the girl a little while longer.
“I’m sorry, unnie! Now can we please go get something to eat? I’m starving,” Minjeong drags her words, a huge pout on her lips. Jimin bites her bottom lip before she finally decides to break the silent treatment.
“You made me miss my class this morning because you wouldn’t get off me, so now you have to wait,” Jimin curtly says, her voice stern. She notices Minjeong flinch from her tone and her heart subconsciously aches in her chest. She knew she was being too mean—it wasn’t entirely Minjeong’s fault she missed her class. She could’ve always just got up and went to class if she really wanted to. It was just—Minjeong was so cute when she was sulking—Jimin couldn’t help but indulge in teasing her.
Minjeong remained silent after that, sitting back in her chair as she pulled out her phone to entertain herself. Jimin started typing again, throwing subtle glances up at Minjeong from across the table every once and a while. The girl looked like a wounded puppy, her lips pouted and her eyes glossy as she watched TikTok on low volume. Jimin felt her heart clench in her chest— she knew she had to drop the act now and apologize.
“Minjeong?” Jimin finally says, shutting her laptop and looking completely at the girl. Jimin notices she slightly perks up like a dog, sitting straighter as her eyes widened. It’s completely endearing.
Minjeong doesn’t say anything, opting to continue scrolling through her phone and pretending like Jimin hadn’t nearly just made her tear up from raising her voice at her.
Jimin sighs, knowing this was only the consequences of her own actions. She stands up, walking over to the other side of the table where Minjeong sat before kneeling down to be eye level with the girl. She notices Minjeong’s phone has turned off and the girl was now just sadly staring at her lap.
“Minjeongie, I’m sorry,” Jimin says softly, a hand coming out to play with the ends of Minjeong’s hair. Minjeong visibly relaxes, her tense shoulders deflating. Still, she wouldn’t look at Jimin.
Jimin knew what she had to do.
“Min, look at me? Pretty please?” Jimin put on her sweetest and gentlest voice, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She noticed Minjeong stopped pouting, but she still was looking down at her lap, lightly sniffling.
Jimin sighs again, shuffling even closer. She closes her eyes, taking a breath, before she’s leaning in. She places a chaste kiss to Minjeong’s cheek, letting her lips linger before she’s pulling away. There’s a small pink lipstick mark from where she pulled away and she smiles from the sight of it.
Minjeong’s head shoots up, eyes immediately flitting to Jimin’s in surprise, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink.
(Jimin licks her lips in hopes of tasting Minjeong’s skin on her tongue. She swears she tastes a sweetness that only Minjeong could possess)
Jimin grins, her hands still playing with Minjeong’s red strands of hair as she waits for the girl to say something.
“What was that for?” Minjeong said in awe, her glossy eyes getting a spark in them. Jimin smooths her hair back a little, shrugging playfully.
“Just felt like it. Let’s go try the new ramen place?” Jimin says, leaning back to stand up. Minjeong tugs on her hand, stopping her. Jimin looks down, tilting her head to the side in question. Minjeong looks like she’s conflicted on saying something before she’s shaking her head, moving to stand up.
She’s still slightly disoriented from being yelled at by Jimin, so when she stands up, she stumbles a bit on her feet, her foot getting stuck in between the leg of the chair. Jimin catches her arm immediately, instincts quick as she shoots the girl a playful smirk.
“Easy there,” Jimin jokes, fully pulling the shorter gilr up before she went back over to her side of the table. Minjeong pouted again as she watched Jimin pack up her things, her arms folded over her chest.
When Jimin’s done packing her bag, she’s walking back over and slinging an arm around Minjeong’s shoulder easily, leading them to the exit of the library. Minjeong’s hand instinctively comes up to hold at Jimin’s hand that was dangling from her shoulder. Wordlessly, the two step into the nightly breeze of outside and begin their walk around to find the new ramen place that just opened near their campus.
When they’re in the restaurant—Minjeong seated in a booth and Jimin sitting in the chair across from her—Jimin watches with fondness as the red-haired girl eats her food, taking small bites and smiling every time after she finishes swallowing.
(All she could think of is how precious this girl truly was to her.)
When Minjeong’s done eating and Jimin pays for their meal, (despite Minjeong’s protest) the two head out of the restaurant to make their way back to Jimin’s apartment.
It wasn’t until they were just outside her apartment complex did Jimin turn to Minjeong, her hands automatically wrapping around the girl as she spoke quietly.
“You know I always got you, right?” Jimin says into the cold, stepping just a little closer just because she could. Minjeong’s cheeks go red as she looks away with a bashful expression on her face.
“I know,” Minjeong says, biting her lip.
Jimin grins and Minjeong wetly laughs—and it feels like some sort of agreement.
—
Minjeong invites her back home as a plus one to attend an aunt’s wedding. Jimin agrees in a heartbeat—the idea of seeing Minjeong in a pretty dress already blindsiding her.
When she greets Minjeong’s mom, she hands her a small bag full of gifts she’s bought from back home and gives her the shyest smile. Her mom smiles so wide, wrapping Jimin up in a warm hug (and all Jimin can think of is the fact that this is the woman that raised her precious Minjeong. She had to thank her for it someday.) She meets Jimin’s dad a little later and gives him the best handshake she could, her grip nice and firm. Her dad compliments her for it— “now that’s a good handshake!”—and Jimin feels like she’s on top of the world for getting along with the people that raised the girl that she’s utterly crazy over.
(Minjeong watches everything from the sidelines with a small smile on her face, looking the most comfortable she’s ever been, and Jimin truly thinks there’s nothing more beautiful than her entire existence right now.)
Jimin stays with Minjeong in her childhood home, and she can’t help the warmth that runs through her body from the fact that Minjeong was basically opening her world to Jimin, letting her in on something that was so vulnerable and sacred to her. She grew up behind these walls—she grew into the beautiful soul she was to this day because of these walls—and she was just going to easily let Jimin see it all. It felt like an honor. When they were tucked under the blankets of Minjeong’s old covers that smelled so much like Minjeong, Jimin couldn’t help but be envious of these walls for being able to witness Minjeong even take her first steps.
She traced the lines on Minjeong’s palm, humming a soft tune that helped lure the redhead to bed, when she felt something wet on her neck. She pauses—was Minjeong crying?
Jimin freezes until she hears a soft hiccup, her hands falling to Minjeong’s back, immediately rubbing in circles over her spine.
“Why are you crying?” Jimin quietly asks, her voice hushed.
It’s quiet in Minjeong’s room; all that could be heard was the soft noise from the fan and the crickets chirping outside— as well as Minjeong’s occasional soft hiccups. It smells of baby powder and sea salt and flowers and waking up in the morning with sunshine filtering through the windows.
Minjeong lifts her head from its spot on Jimin’s chest—and Jimin’s pretty sure she’s never seen someone as beautiful as Minjeong looked in that moment; tear soaked cheeks and glistening doe eyes.
“I’m happy to be here with you,” Minjeong whispers wetly, sniffling. Jimin smiles at that—because Minjeong really had no idea—and brought a hand out to caress a pale cheek.
“I’m happy too.” Jimin whispers back—and it feels like their secret.
(When the wedding finally rolls around and Jimin sees Minjeong in a baby blue floral dress, she can’t help but think how pretty the girl would look with all white on. She imagines a wedding—their wedding. Instead of in blue, she’d be in white, with Jimin’s ring wrapped around her finger, and Jimin’s name falling from her lips, sealing their fate with a kiss. Just the thought of it has her a blushing mess.)
—
Jimin and Minjeong aren’t dating.
They’re just really close, and Jimin’s a little obsessed with Minjeong, but they weren’t dating.
Sometimes they’d hug and touch each other in the lateness of the night, saying soft whispers into each other’s ears as the sheets ruffled. Sometimes, when Jimin would walk Minjeong to her dorm, Minjeong would lean in on her tiptoes and press a kiss to the mole beneath Jimin’s lips, lingering before pulling back with amusement to see the girls reaction. Minjeong had a key to her apartment and often came over unannounced—sometimes even coming over when Jimin was still in class. Jimin would come home to that familiar smell of baby powder and sea salt, and she’d be like “oh, Minjeong’s here,” and that would be that. She called Minjeong baby, and Minjeong called her apartment home, and they ate dinner nearly every night together, and Jimin called Minjeong’s parents mom and dad, and Minjeong wears Jimin’s hoodies—but they weren’t dating.
Minjeong’s got a green toothbrush next to Jimin’s blue one, she’s got space in Jimin’s closet for her own clothes, she’s got a matching mug in Jimin’s cupboard, her socks are thrown on Jimin’s couch, she’s got her own profile on Jimin’s Netflix, she’s got a designated spot in Jimin’s bed, she used Jimin’s shampoo, Jimin buys food that she knew Minjeong would like, and she even knew the lady that cleans Jimin’s house every Sunday. Minjeong was draped over Jimin’s everything—she was basically apart of Jimin’s daily routine—but they weren’t dating
(Sometimes, Minjeong leaned close to her on nights when they’re both lonely, and she bites marks into Jimin’s neck, touching over her body softly and gently in ways that Jimin’s never been touched before by just best friends. Sometimes, Jimin does the same, returning the favor as she licks over the bruises she’s left on delicate pale skin.)
They weren’t dating, but Jimin knew they were something close to it.
—
It does get tiring not having a label to describe their relationship.
(They were best friends with feelings was the best way to describe it, Jimin guessed.)
The worst part of it all was the fact that men still thought they could flirt with Minjeong—and Jimin supposed they technically could. It’s not like they were officially together or anything.
It just hurts watching the person you spend most of your day being with, thinking of, breathing in, being flirty with someone else. Jimin’s never had jealousy problems in past relationships—she wasn’t the possessive type—but watching Minjeong flirt with some random by the steps was really starting to get under her skin.
“You alright there, Jimin?” Yizhuo playfully asks, sensing the tension. She pushes a drink into the girls hand, wordlessly telling her to ease up. Jimin downs the drink, the liquid dripping from the corner of her mouth.
“Fine,” Jimin replies offhandedly, eyes narrowed as she watched the idiots hands go lower from where they rested below Minjeong’s back, reaching off limits territory. Jimin feels her ears growing red, the alcohol getting to her. Minjeong laughs at something he says, leaning into him a little bit, and Jimin’s fist are clenching.
She’s not your girl, Jimin. Chill.
Jimin takes a deep breath and decides she needs fresh air. She tells Yizhuo just that as she takes in a few deep breaths, completely storming past Minjeong and that guy purposely. She makes a beeline for the balcony, leaving the doors slightly creaked.
She digs in her bag for mint flavored nicotine—and she can’t help but feel like a little girl right now. A stupid little girl.
She hears the door creak open and she doesn’t even have to look to know who it is. She could sense Minjeong from a mile away.
“Why’re you smoking?” Minjeong softly asks, reaching to where Jimin stood leaned against the railing. She had been mindlessly watching the city lights.
Jimin hums, throwing the stick of flavored air back into her bag and shrugging. “I just felt like it,” she whispers. She sneaks a glance sideways and watches how the city lights make Minjeong’s eyes twinkle. She turns to face the city building again, a bitter taste still lingering in her mouth from earlier.
“Are you mad?” Minjeong quietly asks. She notices the girl slightly quivering from the cold outside. She fights back the urge to shrug off her own jacket—she was mad at Minjeong right now, she decided. She wasn’t going to tell her that, though. Just punish her by not giving her her own jacket—her own way at getting back at the girl.
Jimin shakes her head no, letting out a loud sigh afterwards.
“Unnie?” Minjeong quietly says, breaking the silence again. Jimin hums.
“I’m your favorite person, right?” Minjeong whispers, leaning back a little and turning to fully face Jimin. Jimin follows after her, turning to face the smaller girl.
Jimin swallows thickly, eyes narrowing slightly. She noticed Minjeong looked anxious, her eyes surveying her face as her lips were pulled into a small pout.
Her head didn’t even hesitate, automatically answering ‘yes’ in a heartbeat in her own mind. Minjeong had to know that! She’d pick her anywhere at any time. There isn’t a single person in the universe she’d pick over Minjeong. She likes Minjeong more than cats and the ocean and the color blue—fuck, she’s sure she loved Minjeong more than her own parents. The answer was obvious; yes, Minjeong was her favorite person.
The real question was is she Minieong’s?
“Of course you are,” Jimin swallows the bittersweet taste, giving Minjeong her best smile. Minjeong seems to be happy with that, leaning back a little as her shoulders visibly relax.
“You’re mine, too,” she whispers afterwards, like she’s read Jimin’s mind.
Jimin feels all her worries suddenly dissipate.
—
Sometimes, when they’re doing things that normal friends wouldn’t typically do, Jimin likes to pretend that they’re together, living a happy life together.
(Technically, they were together right now, in each other’s presence, and Jimin guesses they were both happy, but she yearned for something more)
They start kissing one day and Jimin’s delusional fantasies really come to play.
“You’re so beautiful, Minjeong,” Jimin whispers as she basically devours her best friends lips, pressing wet kisses everywhere.
Minjeong was always so shy, letting Jimin touch and kiss her anywhere she wanted, making noises like a kitten whenever Jimin did something too rough. (Sometimes, when Jimin would bite between the skin near Minjeong’s pulse point softly and Minjeong would practically melt under her touch, she couldn’t help but want to do it again and again.)
Despite each kiss, she never felt fully satisfied from it. All the the warm kisses and rough touches weren’t enough anymore when Jimin wanted so much more. She wanted a title (she wanted to put a ring on Minjeong’s finger, honestly) and each brush of the lip and each touch to her skin weren’t enough. She was becoming greedy—way too greedy for Minjeong.
(She’s afraid she won’t be fully satiated until she’s crawled completely into Minjeong’s body and sprawled herself out atop of her organs, pressed into her where she’d be the closest to Minjeong, surrounded only by Minjeong. The obsession is getting a little wild… she knows)
When Jimin’s dropping kisses down Minjeong’s body, down to her belly, licking into the dip of her bellybutton, does Minjeong whimper out so softly, Jimin’s barely even heard her.
“Please, unnie.”
Jimin pauses her ministrations, letting her tongue linger on Minjeong’s skin, tasting the sweet saltiness as she stares up at the girl with wide eyes. Minjeong stares back down at her with an unreadable expression on her face, her swollen lips bitten raw and her chest heaving. Slowly, she gently nudges Jimin’s head down, inviting her.
“Please,” she begs again so sweetly. Jimin licks her lips, nodding.
She shows Minjeong just how hopelessly devoted she was for her, absolute mush for brains as she licks ‘I love you’ into her skin.
—
They kiss and touch each other whenever they can. They have sex—and then Jimin runs Minjeong a bath afterwards and runs her hands through her hair the way she likes when she’s done. Jimin gets jealous of guys that flirt with Minjeong, and Minjeong gets sulky when Jimin gives her the silent treatment. They kiss and touch—and now sometimes fuck—and they don’t fight ever. (Jimin dreams of Minjeong wearing white every night, their lips locking under an altar, holding a white veil up after they promised their vows.)
They still aren’t dating, but Jimin’s obsessed—absolutely head over heels for her best friend—and she’s not really sure how much longer they can go on with not having a title; how much longer she can go on without claiming Minjeong as her’s.
It’s morning, and Jimin’s in the kitchen cooking Minjeong her eggs just how liked them—scrambled with only salt—and Minjeong’s behind her, a warm body pressed into her as she easily moved around the kitchen. (It’s too domestic—and Jimin doesn’t think she can take it any longer—this feeling in her chest that she wants to swallow Minjeong whole.)
“Unnie, you’re not seeing anyone new recently, right?” Minjeong asks at the dining room table when Jimin sets the food down, taking her seat on the other side of Jimin.
You know that I’m not. Jimin wants to say. Who else would I want to have when you exist? She bites her tongue.
Jimin just shakes her head, her eyes not meeting Minjeong’s across the table. It’s silent after that; just the sound of them chewing and the birds singing outside.
Only when Jimin’s gathering their dishes together to put in the sink, does Minjeong’s hand stop her, tugging lightly. Jimin puts the dishes back down and quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head in question.
“I’m not either,” Minjeong breathes out, leaning back in her chair and letting her hands rest on Jimin’s arm.
Jimin realizes she’s staring and blinks, letting out a slight cough as she awkwardly nods. Minjeong gives her an amused grin before she’s letting go and walking off to sit on the couch. Jimin nearly drops their plates as she shakily grabs them again.
As she’s cleaning the dishes, she ignores the heat running through her body from the redhead. Minjeong’s in her apartment, wearing her clothes, eating her food, watching her TV, with her marks on her neck. She’s practically Jimin’s at this point.
Her words from a little while ago basically meant, ‘I’m yours.’
—
Jimin’s pretty sure they’re like 99% dating now.
They do all the things that they’ve been doing before—just with a lot more feelings. Minjeong doesn’t flirt with guys at the bar anymore and Jimin doesn’t suck on flavored air when she’s upset about something.
Minjeong whispers ‘I love you’ into Jimin’s ear before they sleep—and she’s starting to leave her smell on her side of Jimin’s bed. She calls Jimin endearing names that Jimin would’ve never let anyone else she’s dated before even utter jokingly to her. She sucks marks directly in the middle of Jimin’s neck for everyone to see, her fingers tracing them when she’s done. She comes home to Jimin every night.
“We’re dating, right?” Minjeong asks one night when they’re in bed and Minjeong’s halfway on top of her. Jimin pauses from that, like that’s not the question she’s been asking since she’s known Minjeong.
“You want to be my girlfriend?” Jimin stupidly asks. Minjeong lifts her head off of Jimin’s chest and narrows her eyes cutely at her, her expression screaming duh!
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me,” Minjeong says, laying back down.
Jimin’s eyebrows furrow at that—blinking at her own stupidity—because of course Minjeong felt the same.
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Jimin quietly asks. She hears Minjeong giggle and feels her own smile forming. Maybe she should ask if Minjeong wanted to be her wife next-
“I would love to be your girlfriend, unnie,” Minjeong responds. Jimin hums, her grip around Minjeong tightening in response. They snuggle into each other, drifting to sleep from the sound of each other’s heartbeats.
Jimin thinks of how she could of had this earlier if she wasn’t so in her own head. Minjeong could’ve been hers so long ago—she couldn’t believe it was this easy. She almost hates herself for not asking sooner, but she doesn’t, because Minjeong’s hers now, and that’s all that mattered.
Kim Minjeong was really her girlfriend now...
And if Jimin hadn’t been so caught up in being so obsessed with Minjeong herself, she would’ve seen that Minjeong was just as equally infatuated with Jimin, just the same amount.