yoonmin lace & leather nsfw

1 🥀

Bright lights blink and flash in the distance, catching my immediate attention. At the entrance to the room, only meters away, dozens of masked figures swarm around him.

The famous model, corporate owner, and hotshot host of this party, Min Yoongi. Here, I stand in the middle of his pristine ballroom under a wide crystal chandelier where his masquerade ball is hosted annually. Gathering in celebration of the success and outstanding growth of his 3 major companies. Those notable 3 out of many, being the largest and most well-known fashion corporations worldwide; one each respectively for shoes and handbags, jewlery, and of course, clothing.

Each and every attendee wearing their most valuable jewelry, finest suites and gowns, mixed with their thousand dollar perfumes is creating a heavy atmosphere of clashed scents and styles. My head spins, distorting my vision and my stomach lurches due to the near-chaotic commotion of flashing cameras, intrusive questioning, and as expected, much swooning from the females and select males in the crowd.

I begin to feel a bit nauseous and look over my left shoulder. Jisoo's worrisome gaze meet my own. With her perfectly curled, silky black hair framing her slender face dusted with minimal makeup, her choice of wardrobe compliments her natural beauty. She's dressed in a skintight, sleeveless, floor length gown. Starting at the turtleneck-like collar, the fine and no doubt expensive material of the dress fades from an electric blue into a shimmery black midway. Elegant and probably equally as expensive heels click on the glossy floor with every step, stopping by my side. Her thigh peeks out of the long slit in the side of her dress, displaying her perfect milky white complexion.

In a mix of stupidity and pure drunkenness, despite how discrete I'd like to believe I was, I began to loudly and not in any way subtle, whisper to her between hiccups,
"Hey, hey, hey. Jisoo, you're like reaaaally pretty. I don't like you, though," I pause and after a few seconds worth of internal bickering, I knit my eyebrows together in contemplation, then continue and state the obvious, "this is a secret, so you can't tell anyone. shh, but did you know I'm gay?" She stifles a chuckle and rolls her eyes at me.
"Yes, Jimin. I've know that since middle school. You came to my house after school, bawling your eyes out because a girl kissed your cheek," she whispered back, biting back laughter.

I feel like I'm going to be sick. Her eyes study my face for a second, "Hey, you aren't looking too hot. Are you feeling alright?" she asks me quietly, concern very apperant in her tone and expression.
"That's mean. I tried to look good tonight," I jut my lower lip out in a pout.
"I meant you aren't looking too great, like ill," Jisoo explains. "Are you feeling sick? Did you drink too much?" Weariness glassing over her eyes from under her delicate and dainty, black lace masquerade mask.

Now, I'm not exactly sure of what I said, but I believe I responded with a nod and series of incoherent, slurred, and nonsensical words. That, making my three too many drinks painfully apperant. I can't hold my alcohol well and I rarely drank to begin with.

In my very poor attempt of weaving my way through the sea of people who stand before me in order to see the host, I lose my footing and stumble over my own feet. The tragic outcome resulting in falling into an unexpecting waiter. Along with he and myself, come crashing down 4 tall glasses of pricy, high quality champagne. The drinks inevitably soaking my through clothes. In three seconds flat, the entire room ceases all chatter and conversation, creating a tense dead silence that could be broken by a falling hairpin.

All eyes, even from furthest corners of the room, are now locked on me.

An embarrassingly intoxicated Park Jimin.