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Jm's p.o.v

It's been over a year—a year since our paths diverged, leaving us with nothing but hollow souls and fractured hearts. Yet, the memory of his pained expression, the way his eyes silently pleaded as he unwillingly pulled away, refuses to fade.

Hello, everyone. I'm Park Jimin from Bangtan, though I guess most of you already know me. Today, I want to share a story—one that's etched into my soul, a chapter of my life that began and ended during Chuseok last year. If you've seen our group's Vlive from that occasion, you've seen the surface: the smiles, the laughter. But beneath it, the very fabric of my world was unraveling. That was the day Taehyung and I broke apart.

Even now, I can still feel it—every fiber of my being screaming, begging me to hold on to him. To fight. But I didn't..

I can't even pinpoint when things started unraveling. Was it when he'd pick fights, accusing me of spending too much time with Namjoon-hyung and Jungkook? I would reassure him endlessly, promising he'd always be my one and only. But was it enough?

"Why is it always them, Jimin? You cancel our plans but somehow have all the time in the world for them?" he'd say, his voice laced with frustration as he paced the room.

"Taehyung, please," I'd reply, reaching for his hand. "You know you're the one for me. You always have been."

But my words, no matter how sincere, seemed to fall short.

Or maybe it was when those rumors about Taehyung and a female idol exploded online. Pictures of them flooded social media. Some were laughably fake, but others seemed so convincing and made my stomach churn with doubt. I felt betrayed, my mind spiraling with doubts. The silence from everyone, the lack of clarity, gnawed at me. Taehyung was unreachable—buried in work, preparing for his Vogue cover shoot.

When he finally returned, I made the worst mistake of my life. Instead of welcoming him with love, asking how he was, or even just talking, I accused him of infidelity. His face fell as he denied the rumors, explaining he hadn't even been active on most platforms due to the constant threats. He declared the pictures fake, and I believed him. But the damage was done. My inability to trust him had already cut deep. The look in his eyes—a mix of hurt and disappointment—haunts me to this day. 

"Do you even care how I felt, seeing those pictures?" I accused, my voice trembling with anger.

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked hurt—deeply hurt. "Jimin, you think I'd do that to you? I haven't even been online, except for Instagram. You know that. Those photos aren't real."

I wanted to believe him. I did. But I'd already let the doubt poison me. And he saw it in my hesitation.

"You didn't even ask me," he said quietly. "You just assumed."

The words hit harder than any shout or scream could. He walked away that night, leaving me alone with my guilt.

We patched things up, or so I thought, and tried to rebuild what we had. Slowly, the warmth between us began to return. But the world—our world—was relentless. Threats poured in, targeting not just us but our entire group. The pressure was unbearable.

The night before Chuseok, we were in the dressing room, picking outfits for the live. Taehyung, being himself, was all over me, planting soft kisses on my neck as I hummed. It had become a comforting routine for us, one the others barely noticed anymore. "Choose mine too," he murmured, his voice a soft hum against my skin.

I smiled, holding up a suit. "How about this one? It screams sophistication."
He chuckled, pulling me closer. "Wife material," he teased, making me laugh despite myself.

For a moment, it felt normal. Us. Together. Happy.

But it didn't last.

Our manager called us aside, and the ground beneath us crumbled. He laid out the choices, cold and cruel: Either we break up, or we jeopardize the group's harmony.  His words still echo in my mind. "You have to choose—your relationship, or the group. We can't sustain both. The fans won't let you."

We begged for alternatives, suggested staying distant on camera. But our lives were too public; the idea was futile. "Eighty-five percent of your life is on display," he reminded us coldly. Ultimately, we were left with no real choice.

That night, we were separated—kept apart as if our love was a crime. The next morning, we broke up. No grand argument, no tears shed in front of others. Just a quiet end. I smiled through my tears, while Taehyung, ever the stronger one, nodded silently, swallowing his pain. 

Taehyung looked at me, his eyes glassy yet composed. "We'll be okay," he said, but his voice cracked on the last word. I smiled, though it felt like my heart was being ripped apart. "Yeah," I lied.

During the Vlive, he was stoic, his mask unbreakable. But I... I mourned in silence. I couldn't help but steal glances at him

There was a moment when our eyes met. He sighed, a soft, defeated sound, before looking away. My chest tightened as I turned my focus elsewhere, the manager's watchful eyes drilling into me. I caught Taehyung looking at me again later, but I couldn't bear to hold his gaze.

When I think of that moment now, it feels like a bad dream. It was real. The realization crashed over me like a storm—we were over. He was no longer mine, and I could no longer be his.

The thought of him in someone else's arms, being held as tightly as I used to hold him, sent a shiver through my soul. My breath hitched, and I hung my head low, squinting my eyes to hold back the tears. Yet, a few escaped, trailing down my cheeks like uninvited guests at a silent mourning.

Looking at Taehyung, I felt my resolve falter. There he was, speaking with Jin-hyung while sipping his drink, dressed in the hanbok I'd picked out for him. He looked ethereal—so good it hurt. My choice, I thought bitterly. The hanbok and the man wearing it—both perfect, both mine once.

"Taehyungie looks so pretty right now," I murmured aloud, interrupting their conversation. The words slipped out before I could stop them, an unfiltered truth too powerful to contain. Taehyung only nodded in acknowledgment, as if the compliment didn't reach the heart I once knew so well.

When the Vlive ended, we each retreated to our rooms. The thin walls that separated us felt like a cruel metaphor for the distance that had grown between our hearts. But that night, I heard it—his muffled cries, mirroring my own. I leaned against the wall, imagining that he was on the other side, mirroring my posture. Were we still connected, even through the barriers that life and choices had placed between us? My tears fell harder at the thought.

Why does the world have to be so cruel? Why can people imagine me with Jungkook or Taehyung with him, but not the two of us together? Some wanted me gone for the sake of Taekook; others demanded Taehyung step aside for Jikook. But none of those ships were real—how could they be when my heart belonged to Taehyung, and his, I believe, belonged to me? Even Vmin shippers, the ones who used to cheer for us, stood silent. I guess we weren't "right" for each other in their eyes anymore.

After that night, we never truly came close again. In October, we had a concert—a stage we were once excited to share. As a co-lead dancer, I used to create choreography that allowed us to shine together, teasing the audience with our chemistry. But this time, performing emotional steps with him felt like reopening a wound. Our manager demanded fan service—a little interaction to keep appearances—but I hated faking anything with Taehyung. Everything we shared had always been real.

Still, we followed orders. On stage, Taehyung's glances lingered, but his words remained clipped and distant, only spoken when absolutely necessary. The rumors about him dating that girl were eventually debunked, proving that he hadn't lied to me. I felt relief, yes, but also guilt—a gnawing regret for doubting him, for letting insecurity poison something so pure.

It's been a year since then. We've moved on—or so we tell ourselves. Now, we're just friends, getting along like we did during our debut days: playful banter, light bickering. But there's no denying that once, we were more. Back then, every stolen glance, every shared laugh, carried a deeper meaning. Now, we're nothing more than friends. Nothing less, nothing more.

Tonight, as the members laughed and read comments from ARMYs, I sat quietly, sipping my wine. I couldn't stop my thoughts from spiraling. ARMYs. I love them, I do—but they're the same people who tore us apart with their selfish obsession over ships. Even so, I can't hate them. They're the reason we've come this far, the foundation of our success.

The chat buzzed with funny suggestions, inappropriate dares, and endless requests for songs. But one comment caught my eye: fans demanding a Vmin Vlive or a new selca. I smiled faintly, bitterly.

Sorry, ARMYs, I thought. We could never.

Third p.o.v :-

All the members were enjoying the Vlive, joking and reading comments, but Taehyung seemed distant—his eyes carrying a weight that no laughter could lift.

Jimin felt the sensation of being watched, a familiar pull that made his stomach churn. Slowly, he turned his head, and there he was—Taehyung, his intense gaze locked onto Jimin like he could see every unsaid word, every suppressed emotion. Jimin gulped, instinctively wanting to look away, but something in Taehyung's expression froze him in place.

Taehyung's gaze was scorching, raking over Jimin's features with a deliberateness that made him squirm. The scrutiny was too much, too raw, awakening desires he had buried for the past year. His palms began to sweat, his breaths uneven, and his heart raced as though it could burst through his chest.

And then, Taehyung licked his lips—slowly, almost teasingly—before a soft, knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He broke eye contact, turning his attention to the others like nothing had happened. Jimin blinked, finally inhaling deeply, his lungs filling with much-needed air.

At 11 p.m., Jimin stood outside the door next to his own, hesitating before knocking. The door was ajar, as if Taehyung had been expecting him.

"May I come in?" Jimin asked quietly, his voice trembling.

"Lock it afterwards," came the low reply.

Jimin nodded, stepping inside. His hands fumbled with the lock, twisting the knob and turning the key with nervous precision. Once done, he moved quickly to the beanbag in the corner of the room, perching on it like it was a lifeline.

"W-what do you w-want, Taehyung?" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You."

Jimin's head shot up, his eyes wide. "W-what?"

"I mean, come here," Taehyung said, his tone soft but firm.

"N-no... How can I?" Jimin's voice cracked, his hesitation palpable.

"Oh, come on, Jimin-ah," Taehyung coaxed, leaning forward slightly. "Maybe this could be the end of our suffering."

Jimin took a shaky breath, his resolve crumbling under the weight of Taehyung's words. Slowly, hesitantly, he stood and approached Taehyung, each step feeling heavier than the last. When he reached him, he straddled Taehyung's lap, his movements tentative and unsure.

Taehyung hummed in quiet satisfaction, his hands finding Jimin's chin and tilting it upward. His fingers brushed against Jimin's skin, soft and deliberate, before he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Jimin gasped softly, his eyes closing as he tried to imprint the sensation in his memory. The simplicity of the peck brought back a flood of memories—how their stolen kisses once felt like the most natural thing in the world. But now, it was overwhelming, making his knees weak and his heart ache.

Taehyung stilled when he tasted salt on Jimin's cheek. Without hesitation, he pressed another kiss to Jimin's closed eyes, lingering there for a moment longer. Jimin couldn't hold back anymore. A loud, guttural sob escaped him, shattering the fragile silence, and soon he broke down completely.

Taehyung wasn't far behind. He pulled Jimin into his arms, holding him tightly as his own tears fell. They cried together, their pain pouring out in waves that neither could stop. It felt like they had been crying for hours, their sorrow flowing freely now that they were finally in each other's embrace.

The walls that had separated them for a year were gone, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, it all felt right—achingly, painfully, beautifully right. It was as if the universe had been waiting for this moment, for their souls, bound across lifetimes, to finally find solace again.

"J-Jimin-ah," Taehyung whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking. "Do you still love me, baby? Because I do. I always have." He pressed kiss after kiss to Jimin's tear-streaked face, desperate to convey what words couldn't.

Jimin harshly wiped his tears with the back of his hand, his eyes burning. He grabbed Taehyung by the collar, his fingers trembling as he pulled him closer. His face twisted with a mix of heartbreak and anger.

"D-do you think I came here because I'm a f-fool?" Jimin choked out. "Tae... love, how could I ever move on? I knew you still loved me. I knew I still loved you. I knew we didn't break up because we wanted to... We were forced to. We sacrificed our love for the group because we weren't selfish enough to risk it." His voice cracked with each word, his chest heaving with sobs.

"If you had cheated on me, I could have hated you. I could have cursed you and found a way to forget. But you didn't. I had no reason to move on, no way to let go. I still love you, Kim Taehyung. How could I not love you when, even after all this time, I still hear you crying my name in the middle of the night?"

Jimin broke down again, his sobs filling the room. Taehyung's arms tightened around him, his own tears flowing freely.

"Jimin-ah," Taehyung whispered, his voice filled with conviction. "Let's get back together."

Jimin's head shot up, his tear-streaked face filled with disbelief.

"We c-can't, Tae," he said brokenly, shaking his head. "We're prohibited. You know that."

His voice was barely a whisper, but the heartbreak in it was deafening.

Jimin took slow, cautious steps toward the door, his heart pounding like a drum, his mind torn between reason and the storm of emotions swirling within. Before he could even reach the handle, Taehyung shot up like lightning, his long strides closing the distance in an instant. He pinned Jimin against the wall, his grip firm, his dark, stormy eyes burning into Jimin's trembling figure.

"I.Won't.Lose.You.Twice," Taehyung growled, his voice like thunder rumbling through a stormy sky. His hands gripped Jimin's wrists tightly, almost desperate, refusing to let go.

"M-my wrist h-hurts," Jimin stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes welling up with tears. But Taehyung didn't relent; instead, his grip tightened further, leaving faint red marks on Jimin's soft, porcelain skin.

"Do you think I care about that right now, Jimin?" Taehyung's voice broke, cracking with raw emotion. "W-we can hide it, baby... no one has to know. We won't tell the members. We made a mistake by breaking up... let's fix it. Let's fix us. We can pretend to be friends and date secretly. Jimin-ah, I want nothing more in this world than to be your man. Park Jimin's man."

He leaned in, pressing a harsh kiss to Jimin's jaw, the desperation in his actions stealing Jimin's breath away.

"B-but agh—nhh... it's t-too hard to h-hide, Tae," Jimin sobbed, his voice quivering as his hands weakly pushed against Taehyung's chest, but the latter didn't budge.

"Nothing is too hard when you're with me, baby," Taehyung whispered, his tone softening, though his hands trembled as they held onto Jimin. "You have no idea how many times I died during this separation... p-please, baby... d-don't leave your Taetae again... please."

By now, Taehyung was on his knees, his head bowed low as he gripped Jimin's leg tightly, his broad shoulders shaking with quiet, choked sobs.

Jimin's heart shattered into a million pieces. How did it come to this? His Taehyung—his strong, confident Taehyung—reduced to this broken state. The sight was a knife to his soul, each sob twisting the blade deeper. Wasn't it his fault too? Wasn't he the one who let go, despite knowing that Taehyung was the only one who ever truly made him feel whole?

With tears streaming down his cheeks, Jimin sank to his knees, pulling Taehyung into a tight embrace that left no room for words. Their bodies collided, and before he could think, Jimin pressed his lips to Taehyung's, a silent answer to his unspoken plea.

Taehyung groaned into the kiss, his hands cupping Jimin's face as if he couldn't bear to let go again. His lips moved hungrily against Jimin's, devouring him with the ferocity of a man who had been starved for too long. And Jimin? Jimin let him. He let the hungry cub devour him whole, his trembling hands tangling in Taehyung's dark, messy locks, softly ruffling his hair in encouragement.

"T-thank you, love," Taehyung whispered hoarsely, his lips brushing against Jimin's in a ghost of a kiss.

"There's no need to thank me, Tae," Jimin replied softly, his voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. "I can't be without you either. Trust me, when you asked me to meet you afterward—just with your eyes—I was so excited. I've been waiting for this, for us to finally talk without pretending. I hate all this fanservice stuff. It was fine with others, but with you... fake doesn't exist. Except for your fake pouts and cries," he added, chuckling through his tears.

"Well, you love them," Taehyung quipped with a cocky smirk, his duality shining through as though he hadn't just spent the past hour crying.

Taehyung pulled Jimin closer, his fingers trailing over the fabric of Jimin's shirt before resting on his chest. Slowly, he began massaging Jimin's clothed nipples, cupping them possessively. Jimin shivered at the touch but didn't complain; instead, he let out a soft sigh, leaning into the intimacy. It had been a year since they'd last been "one," and tonight, they planned to rekindle what they'd lost—mind, body, and soul.

Jimin woke up the next morning, stretching his arms with a soft groan. A chuckle escaped his lips as he found himself almost caged in Taehyung's iron grip, the elder's arm draped protectively over his waist.

Carefully, Jimin brushed away a few strands of hair from Taehyung's forehead, his fingers lingering as they traced the sharp lines of his face. He couldn't help but admire him, his heart swelling with love.

"How can someone be so handsome?" Jimin whispered to himself, his lips curving into a tender smile.

Taehyung stirred, his deep voice breaking the quiet. "You really love my face, huh?"

Jimin froze, caught red-handed. "What if I do?" he retorted, attempting to shift away.

"Oww... it hurts, you moron," Jimin pouted, rubbing his lower bodyas his boyfriend fondled with his buttcheeks.

Taehyung laughed, his grin wide and teasing. "You think I grew bigger or something? Babe, I'm not some teenager in puberty."

"Well, it feels like it!" Jimin shot back, blushing furiously.

"That's because your ass forgot who its partner was after a whole year of separation," Taehyung said smugly, his words earning him a light slap on the shoulder. "But, judging by the energy it had last night, I'd say it's pretty happy now."

"Yah! Stop talking nonsense," Jimin scolded, his face flushed. "We're not the same Taehyung and Jimin anymore. We can't just sleep in all morning. I need to leave before someone comes looking for me."

Reluctantly, Taehyung nodded, helping Jimin to his feet. He even guided him to the bathroom, offering to assist him with a bath. Later, he handed Jimin a set of his old clothes—ones Jimin had left behind a year ago. Taehyung had preserved them meticulously, as though they were priceless treasures.

As Jimin dressed, he glanced at Taehyung, his heart full yet aching. No matter what challenges lay ahead, he knew one thing for certain—he would never let go of Taehyung again.

"Bye... love you," Jimin murmured, his voice soft, lingering on each word as he gazed at Taehyung's face, tracing the contours of his features as if memorizing them. There was a bittersweet tenderness in his eyes, as though this moment was one he never wanted to end.

"Jimin-ah?" Taehyung's voice, low and uncertain, tugged at his heart.

"Yeah?" Jimin responded, his hand still resting gently on Taehyung's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Taehyung's fingers moved through Jimin's hair, the strands slipping between his fingers like silk. "I'm so happy... I can't even put it into words," Taehyung confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he were afraid the moment might vanish if he spoke too loudly. "You've eased all my pain. Please... let's be selfish. Let's promise that no matter what, no matter who, we'll never leave each other's side. Not for anyone, not even for those we care about the most."

Jimin's lips curled into a small, genuine smile, his heart swelling with warmth. "You know, looking back at everything we've been through... the suffering, the heartache, the emptiness I felt," Jimin began, his voice faltering slightly as the weight of his words sank in. "It feels like my body—my soul—has finally been returned to me. I feel whole again. And all it took was spending these seven or eight hours with you. If being selfish means choosing us, then I'm all in. I'd choose you over everything else, over and over again, Taehyung."

He leaned forward, capturing Taehyung's lips in a soft, sweet kiss. But before he could pull away, Taehyung, his hands now cupping Jimin's face, pulled him back in, deepening the kiss, holding him closer as if the distance between them had become unbearable. Their breaths mingled, their hearts beating in sync, as time itself seemed to stretch, slowing down, becoming nothing but a distant memory.

Minutes passed—fifteen? Twenty? Jimin finally pulled away, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath, eyes dark with affection. He placed a light kiss on Taehyung's cheek, a smile tugging at his lips. But as he did, he gently pulled Taehyung's hand from his waist, the warmth of his touch lingering on his skin.

"I need to go," Jimin whispered with a teasing glint in his eye, turning toward the drawer. He fumbled for the charger, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "They'll get suspicious if I stay here too long. I'll video call you at noon, or maybe you could sneak into my room to grab this back. What do you think?"

Jimin raised an eyebrow, holding up the charger like a trophy, his heart racing with the thrill of the moment. Taehyung, who had been snuggling against Jimin's neck, now raised his head, his expression a mix of affection and mischief.

"I love you, babe," Taehyung murmured, leaning in for another kiss, the words slipping from his lips like a vow. He pressed a gentle peck to Jimin's lips.

"Love you too, tiger," Jimin replied, his voice filled with equal tenderness as he returned the kiss. Their lips lingered for a heartbeat longer before they pulled away, the moment feeling impossibly short.

Summoning all the confidence he could muster, Jimin opened the door and stepped into the hallway, his heartbeat thundering in his chest, though he made sure to keep his expression calm, unaffected, as though nothing had happened.

"Hey, Jimin?" Hoseok's voice cut through the quiet, making Jimin freeze mid-step. He turned around, offering a practiced smile, his eyes warning Taehyung, who was still lingering just inside the room, to step back into the shadows.

"Umm, yeah, Hobi?" Jimin asked, keeping his tone casual, his fingers clutching the charger tightly as though it were his lifeline.

Hoseok, standing at the end of the hallway, gave Jimin a long, searching look, his eyes narrowing. "What were you doing in Taehyung's room?" he asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

Jimin blinked, his heart racing for a split second before he smoothly raised the charger in his hand. "Oh, that?" he began with a shrug, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I just went to borrow his charger. Mine's been missing for a while, buried under a mountain of stuff in my room. Guess I should've listened to you about keeping it organized." He chuckled lightly, hoping his nonchalant demeanor would distract Hoseok. "I'll deal with it later."

Hoseok watched him, his gaze lingering for a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "Uh huh..." he murmured, his expression softening. "I thought they were getting back together, but it seems like they're still figuring things out." Hoseok sighed dramatically, his voice tinged with disappointment. "I really hoped they would, though. But I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Jimin gave him a quick, reassuring smile before continuing down the hall, his heart still pounding in his chest. He barely registered the sound of Hoseok entering his room as he quickly slipped into his own.

Meanwhile, Hoseok walked into his own room, where he found Namjoon lounging amidst a chaotic mess of clothes and scattered items. "Kim Namjoon!" Hoseok exclaimed, his hands planted firmly on his hips, his tone stern. "What in the world is all this? You're worse than Jimin! Even he just lost his charger, but look at this disaster!"

Namjoon gulped nervously, his expression sheepish as he straightened up. "Well, Hobi... sunshine... my dear..." he stammered, offering a nervous grin.

"Cut it out, Joon," Hoseok snapped, rolling his eyes, unimpressed by the nervousness.

Namjoon cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. "I... um, I think I might have accidentally misplaced your iPad somewhere in this—uh—'organized chaos,'" he said, his voice trailing off as he awkwardly gestured to the mess around him.

"What?!" Hoseok's voice rose a notch, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I swear, if you don't find it and clean this mess up..." He gestured furiously at the scattered clothes and items, his gaze sharpening into a glare. "I'll make you regret it."

Namjoon, looking genuinely terrified, immediately jumped to action, muttering under his breath, "Thanks to Jimin, at least he's taking the heat off me for once..."

"Right, whatever. Just get to work," Hoseok replied, his tone softening just slightly. He sighed, shaking his head. "I guess Jimin must be exhausted after searching for his charger. I'll make shakes for everyone. How does that sound, Joonie?"

Namjoon's face lit up, a childlike excitement crossing his features. "You're the best, Hobi! My dear sunshine!" he exclaimed, his dimples flashing with his grin.

Hoseok rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "Yeah, yeah, just stop smiling like that in front of the others. They won't be able to handle it. Only I can tolerate it." He poked Namjoon's cheek playfully, then turned to head out, muttering under his breath, "Jimin's got some explaining to do later."

As Hoseok left, Namjoon sighed in relief, turning back to the mess. "Maybe I should ask Taehyung if he has a spare iPad..." he muttered to himself with a small chuckle, feeling a little lighter as he resumed his cleaning.

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Any one wants 2'nd part??

And yeah requests are always open!!

Jimin was lost in his thoughts while everyone else was talking. Suddenly, he blurted out, "Taehyungie looks so pretty right now." It was completely out of place, not matching the conversation between Tae and Jin at all.

❥︎❥︎

Date- 11'th september
words count- 4.56k+